#u. AU. ( IF YOU REPEAT IDEAS ENOUGH THAT DOESN’T MAKE THEM TRUE. )

[beomiracles]

OMGOSHH hiii Serene my goddess

i would like to build a dreammmmm (hello you are so adorable)

so i have an idea

its a historical (or modern if youd prefer) fantasy au (w any member u deem suitable)

where reader is a fox spirit who fell in love w member who rescued her while she got injured and trapped in her animal form

member and reader spend some domestic time tgt and eventually reader recovers and reveals her true form and is worried member would be afraid of her

initially he is but things happen and he ends up falling for her too?? and they get tgt !!

(i like things steamy)

thank you for taking the time to read this :))

500 BASH SPECIAL

#serene adds ✎... omg ily like ;( when I first read this I IMMEDIATELY thought, yeonjun. (maybe it has to do with the reader being a fox idk. but it feels right to have this fic about him) I'm also super into this whole idea but I've never written for a supernatural reader before so idk how good it is on that front heh..! hope you'll still enjoy :3

wc -> 1.8k

pairings yeonjun x fox spirit!reader (afab) warnings very slight dom/sub dynamics, sub!yeonjun, soft!dom reader, handjob/blowjob, hints at further sexual themes.

It had been, three? Maybe four weeks? You could hardly keep track of time as the room you had been staying in lacked any sort of time teller, and it wasn’t exactly like your rescuer was about to sit down and inform a fox of the time. You couldn’t blame him, he had already done so much for you, from taking you in and providing both shelter and food — it was more than you could have ever asked for. 

You had grown accustomed to the company of the human man, strangely enough. Foxes were known to be distrustful of said species yet you found yourself feeling warm and fuzzy inside whenever he was around, which was almost all the time as he returned to check up on you multiple times throughout the day. 

But by now, your body had recovered enough for you to finally be able to comfortably shift back into a more presentable form. Your only worry was the human’s reaction, you scolded yourself for taking his feelings into such great consideration, it wasn’t what was supposed to happen. Yet you worried that he might be scared — dreaded that he might not like you at all in your human form. 

The cool air causes goosebumps to rise across your now naked skin, having adapted to the feel of fur after spending so long in your other form that the now mildly cold degree outside felt freezing. You stretch your fingers out in front of you, studying them as if it were your first time seeing them. A small sigh of relief escapes your lips, finally you felt more like yourself again. 

The sound of the door squeaking open causes your head to snap in its direction as the human stumbles inside. His hands are full of cut up fruits and a few pieces of raw meat, but as soon as his gaze falls on you the plate crashes against the floor and you flinch at the sound. 

Yeonjun’s mouth hangs open as he studies you with a slightly horrified expression. You could smell the fear dripping from him as his eyes darted across the room in search of your fox form, but all he found was you. Slowly rising from your crouched position, you offer the man a small smile. 

“Hi.” 

You internally cringe at how strained your voice sounded, but after not being used for almost a month it wasn’t so surprising. Yeonjun doesn’t reply as he stares at you dumbfoundedly. “...Who are you?” He finally splutters as he takes a defensive step back, your heart churns at the small action. 

“It’s me…Red”, you try as you use the nickname he had given you a few weeks prior. Yeonjun’s eyes might as well just pop out of his eye sockets as he stares at you in disbelief. “Red?” He repeats, though his stance remains wary. Eagerly you nod as you take a step forward.

“But…it doesn’t make sense I…” He stammers as his hands come up to block you from his view. “And you’re…you’re naked!” His statement causes you to stop as you frown whilst glancing down to your bare body. So? Why did that matter? It was natural when shifting forms — besides, did he really not have greater things to worry about than your naked frame? 

You surge forward once more only to be stopped by a pair of large hands against your shoulders as Yeonjun prevents you from coming any closer. “Why don’t you sit down over here”, he redirects you toward the bed in the center of the room as he hastily pulls the duvet cover over your exposed body. 

Huffing out a breath of air, you glance up at your savior as he fusses over you, much like he always did. And as your eyes roam his body; you wanted nothing more than to repay the kind favor. 

Hesitantly, Yeonjun takes a seat beside you on the very edge of the bed, much to your delight. He runs a hand through his dark hair as he studies you with a slight frown. “I don’t understand…you…you’re..” — “A human?” You interrupt as the corner of your lips curl into a small grin. “Yeah.” He breathes out a small sigh. 

In your human form, he seemed even more delectable and your gaze followed the way his teeth closed around his bottom lip as he bit it anxiously. “I’m a fox spirit.” You state as you watch his reaction. His frown deepens as he looks at you, noticing the swirling pools of orange in your eyes and your sharp canines as you grin. He supposed he should feel afraid, but he didn’t, for he could still recognize the wounded animal he had taken in all those nights ago. 

You tilt your head to the side as you listen to the now, steady, beating of his heart as the human came to terms with the creature before him. “But why didn’t you reveal yourself earlier..?” He wonders and you let out a small sigh. “Well it was impossible to, given the state my body was in”, you shrug before glancing toward him with a small smirk, “but thanks to your helpful hands and kind words I am now completely recovered.” 

Yeonjun’s eyes widen as color rushes to his face. “Kind words…you mean you..” — “Even in my fox form I understand the human language.” You say as you watch the increasingly flustered state of the human who averted his gaze, suddenly recalling the multiple comments about the fox he had made. 

“Do you really think I’m cute?” You ask as you lean forward on the bed. Yeonjun swallows as his eyes return to you, “I uh…” he begins but trails off as you close the small distance between you, trapping him against the bedpost. The duvet falls from your shoulders and his eyes dart between your exposed skin and your face. 

“I think you’re cute.” You purr as your nose graces along his cheek. The rapid beating of his heart felt like music to your ears. Under you, Yeonjun squirms as he tries to free himself from your grip, you let him go as you watch him with a slight pout. He scrambles across the bed to lean against the headboard, slightly panting as he looks at you. 

“Are you scared of me?” you ask with a small frown, a sense of hurt lingering in your words. He shakes his head, “n-no…I just..I don’t know if it’s such a good idea to…” He sharply inhales as you suddenly appear mere inches from his face, gently straddling his lap as your fingers brush along his flushed cheek. “But you’re not scared of me?” Your question comes off as more of a statement but Yeonjun gives you a small shake of his head. You smile, “good.” 

Your lips find his as your hands gently cup his cheeks. Half expecting him to pull away, you’re surprised when his arms wrap around your naked waist to pull you closer. “I’ll make you feel good, yeah?” you whisper against his lips as your hands grip onto the fabric off his shirt. Yeonjun gazes up at you with a clouded expression, uttering a small “uh-huh”.

Your sharp nails dig into the soft cotton as you rip it apart, exposing his lean torso for your hungry eyes to ravage. If he’s surprised by your quick actions, he doesn’t let onto it as his eyes rake over your naked body. The hands on your waist slowly move across your stomach before gently cupping your breasts, his thumbs grazing over your nipples. You let out a small moan as shivers course through your body. 

The roll of your hips against his makes his breath hitch and you lean down to press open mouthed kisses along his neck and collarbone. “You saved me”, you murmur against his skin, feeling the way blood rushed beneath the surface. Sharp teeth drag across the sensitive flesh of his neck as you inhale his sweet scent. 

“Not many people would take in a fox like myself.” The tantalizingly slow movements of your hips causes him to buck up against your wet cunt, drawing a small hiss from you as you grind down on him even harder. Your lips hover over his own once more as you gaze at him in a loving manner. Yeonjun looks at you with a hazy expression as his lips part so deliciously and invitingly, soft pants emitting from him. 

“I am forever grateful.” You whisper before leaning back to rip the seam of his pants apart. Your mouth almost waters at the sight of his throbbing cock, hard and ready for you. Yeonjun lets out a small gasp as you wrap your fingers around him, marveling at how heavy he felt in your hand. “So pretty and good for me”, you coo as you take your time to get a full feel of him, drawing a soft groan from the human. 

You experiment with the pace of your hand, the flick of your wrist, closely watching his reactions as Yeonjun fell apart under your touch. His fingers digging into the soft sheets of the bed, knuckles turning white at the sheer pressure. Unable to resist you lean down to get a small taste of him, relishing in the throaty moan you manage to coax from him. 

Tongue pressed flat against his cock, you slowly work your way down before licking a stripe all the way up to the red tip again. “Ah, fuck.” He groans as you suck all of him in your mouth, swirling your tongue against his slit. His hips snap up against you, his cock hitting the back of your throat and you almost gag. Your hands brush along his thighs as you moan softly around him, silently praising him before pulling off with a small pop. 

“What do you need from me, pretty?” You whisper as your hand returns to gently stroke him. Sweat sticks to his forehead as he lays panting, he swallows, “a-anything, fuck…just need you!” His words make you clench around nothing as your lips eagerly return to his cock, feeling it twitch against your lips. 

The soft whines falling from his plump lips were enough to have you take him as deep as you possibly could, pressing your tongue against him with so much pressure that it almost hurt. “Fuck, I’m c-close” he groans and one of your hands join your mouth on his cock as you encourage his orgasm. 

With one final twitch, he releases himself inside of your open mouth. The feeling of hot cum spurting on your tongue had you moaning against his slowly softening cock as you pulled away to wipe your lips. Above you, Yeonjun brings a hand to his forehead as his ragged breathing slowly returns to normal, but the beating of his heart remained rapid as you study his flushed expression. 

His eyes snap toward you as he feels you move on top of him. Teasingly pushing two fingers inside your dripping cunt for him to see. “Think you can do one more, pretty?”

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[bma-2020]

&& @seriouslyaliens​ ;; SC

       Winter’s focus when glass shifts evident with the frost covering glass. Organisation is key, or so the Monstrous Crow would claim. Voice near hesitant, doesn’t want to cause trouble. “ How’d you know where I was? “ 

[dreamsclock]

I love the name when pigs fly it’s genius—

THANK U ^_^ have a fun little snippet from it !!!

when pigs fly au — ch1

It’s day twenty four in the prison when Techno slips through time.

Okay, granted, he actually has no clue what day it is, twenty-something is more of a guess, because he’s fallen asleep, like, twenty four times, and Dream looks minutely comforted when Techno says “twenty four days” to him in a strong assertive voice, but if he’s being really honest, he has no idea how long he’s been stuck in prison.

He’d like to say the twenty fourth day was discernable from the twenty three others that had passed before (again, time is relative), but he’d be lying. Time in prison is hazy and dull; each day blends into the one before it and the one after it, leaving him feeling disappointingly dissatisfied before bed every night. Dream doesn’t seem to find this too hard to bear, finding something new to do every day, though admittedly, Techno thinks he’d rather be driven mad than go to the lengths Dream is going to. Or maybe being mad is why Dream goes to such lengths — he loses track of how much times Dream has thrown himself in lava, loses track of how many times he’s yanked his (friend?) (rival?) (cellmate?) (telly-tubby?) from the flames before they consumed him entirely.

“Dude,” he complains, shoving a burning Dream towards the water pot in the corner, “you’ve gotta find better coping mechanisms, man, this is really pitiful at this point. I don’t even have any witty comments any more. I’m just concerned.”

Dream, for the most part, looks chill. “You could’ve let me burn.”

“And then watch you respawn in the corner and giggle to yourself and mumble to yourself and wonder if you’ve been driven mad this time?” Techno arches an eyebrow, fans out a flame on Dream’s shoulder. “Nah, I’m good. That would be kind of a lame, bad-friend move.”

Behind the mask, he can see the harsh, gaunt edges of Dream’s face soften. “Friend,” he repeats, “huh.”

Techno makes a mental note to make sure Dream gets better friends when they’re both out of here.

…When. More and more, it’s beginning to feel like an impossible dream, no pun intended. Chat are faint in his head on good days, completely gone on the bad days (and there are a lot of bad days), and Techno is worried, with each hour that ticks by, that their chances of getting out of here alive are dwindling.

He and Dream both have one life. The people keeping them here have two and three.

The odds, he admits, aren’t exactly in their favour.

He lets go of Dream, slouching back into the same spot as before, and watches Dream pick up a book from the chest with slightly charred burned fingers.

“Hey,” Dream breaks the silence after a bit, clearing his throat, “what— okay, so, if there was— What would you do if there was a genie who could grant you any wish?”

Techno blinks. “Heh?”

“I mean, like—” The younger shrugs offhandedly, shoulders hunched as he stares down at his book. “If you could tell — I dunno, genie, magic guy, wizard, whatever — If you could say one wish, and it would come true, what would you wish for?”

It’s a good question. Definitely one of the better ones Dream has asked. Over the course of their weeks in the cell, the other has been getting creative: his first questions started off lame, like what’s your favourite colour? and what’s your favourite weapon to train with? and if you were being tortured daily by someone with little to no hope of escaping, all over a book that you can’t ever reveal the contents of, and you were terrified of one day revealing its secrets because you’ve grown weak enough to want to die over wanting to live, what would you do?

(“…Uh, hope for Technoblade to drop by,” Techno had answered at the time, after registering the question, “wait for a Technoblade to cheer me up with his witty commentary. That sure would make the torture bearable.”)

(Dream had laughed for the first time then: an unpleasant, hoarse, bark, but a laugh nonetheless. “Wait for a Technoblade?” He repeats.)

(Techno had shrugged. “I’m no Theseus, but you’re not exactly Pandora,” he’d told him, “no rule about having to stay in here yourself, right?”)

So yeah, he definitely prefers the genie question. Furrowing his brow and tilting his head back so it touched the rough obsidian wall, Techno considers his answer.

“Ask for a bell,” he deadpans, and smirks at Dream’s snort, “nah, but seriously? I’d probably ask to get out of—”

Another answer strikes him, one more fantastical, a daydream, childish, more than anything else.

He pauses.

“…Probably go back in time.”

Dream’s attention swivels to him, slowly. “What?”

“Dunno. Would be pretty neat.” Keeping his voice neutral, Techno offers Dream a wry grin. “I mean, ignoring the whole butterfly-effect thing, but I think I could be careful enough. I dunno, I think… maybe I could stop certain things from happenin’. Stop certain people from… becomin’ who they are now.”

Sam. Quackity. Wilbur. Tommy. Techno meets his new friend’s eyes behind the mask. Dream. He could change so much with the knowledge he has now — of course, he doesn’t think he’d ever actually want to go back in time, but hey, he thinks he could change a couple of crucial things.

Just as he thinks that, the whole universe tilts on its side. For a moment, Techno thinks god has struck him down for his insolence.

And then he hears it: a laugh, echoing in a thousand voices.

Time travel, huh? The protector of the End portal muses, and Techno imagines millions of rows of tiny sharp teeth baring in a smile at him. Never heard that one before. He laughs like he knows something Techno doesn’t. Alright. I’ll grant your wish, just this once. So sue me: I’m curious.

“Oh, wait,” Techno says into the darkness, “I was kidding.”

Too late. The world explodes into shards of different colours. He feels like he’s falling through static, every particle of his being glitching and sliding and spilling over timelines, months, events. So much whizzes by him — Doomsday, the Butcher Army, the Sixteenth, joining Pogtopia—

He goes instinctively to draw back. He remembers that all too well.

And because the universe hates him, Techno finds himself falling forwards, not back, and resurfaces — literally — in a puddle in Pogtopia, coughing and blinking water out of his eyes.

“Bruh,” he manages to cough out, absolutely horrified, “you can’t be serious right now. You cannot be serious right now.”

Oh, absolutely I’m serious, a smug voice in his head seems to say, have fun.

And before Techno can even begin to process the fact there’s a god with a petty vendetta against him (he’s supposed to be an atheist), the voice disappears, and leaves him stranded in the frozen ravine of Pogtopia…

…Six months in the past.

Because that’s just his luck. He’s stuck, confused, stressed, and pretty unpleasantly cold, in Pogtopia, which smells exactly like he remembers and is startlingly innocent: before wars, before betrayal, before the sixteenth and everything going wrong. If he has anybody looking out for him up above (which he highly doubts), he might be able to fix things.

…Or not. Because he’s Technoblade, and he’s on the Dream SMP, and things never ever work out the way he wants.

The sound of a screeching child trampling towards him does absolutely nothing to assuage his new fears.

[cafedanslanuit]

aot boys and the piercings they have ft. eren, armin, jean, reiner and porco

♡   —   tags: +18, female reader, college au, oral (m and f receiving), handjobs, tbh just lots of sex

♡   —   a/n: i’m a sucker for piercings in case u can’t tell

♡   —   masterlist

eren has a tongue piercing. he flicks his tongue so it clinks against his teeth, teasing grin when he looks back at you. you roll your eyes at your boyfriend in a vain attempt to hide how sexy it looks on him. it’s not until he’s on his knees, your leg over his shoulder, face flushed against your cunt and tongue darting over your clit that you appreciate exactly how useful his piercing can be. you come undone on his mouth so hard he has to grab your legs so you don’t fall over and you refuse to look down at him, knowing how satisfied with himself he must look.

armin has a couple of pretty dermal piercings on his collarbone. just two of them and you wouldn’t know they’re there until things get heated up between you two and he removes his shirt, his cheeks reddening when he notices you are staring. he doesn’t seem to be the type to get them, you think, and at the same time it’s exactly the type of piercings that fit a pretty boy like him. curious, you flick the tip of your tongue over them and hear the sweetest gasp escaping his lips. soon enough, you’re riding him on his college dorm, hands tugging on his blonde locks and tongue teasing his piercings until he’s whining for release.

jean has a dick piercing and just like his friend, you wouldn’t know it’s there until an intimate moment came. you’re on your knees in front of him and the feeling of the cold material of the piercing sliding against your tongue makes you groan, the vibration on your throat only riling jean even further as your eyes filled with pleasure look up at him. you tell yourself over and over it can’t be true, but you swear you can feel it every time he thrusts his cock inside of you. the sole idea of the shiny jewel deep inside your cunt makes you cream around his pretty, pierced cock faster than ever before, squeezing him so good it’s not long until he’s coming inside you as well.

reiner has nipple piercings. the first time you noticed them was on a hot summer day, where he took off his jacket and the tight, white tank top he was wearing outlined his piercings delicously. you couldn’t tear your eyes away, your mind wondering how would it feel to have them inside your mouth. after a couple of weeks of your hand gently squeezing his bicep, flirty smiles and teasing jokes, you are straddling reiner’s big figure, tongue teasing his nipples while your hand slowly strokes his cock. the groans that leave reiner’s mouth quickly turn into your new favourite song and you take it as a win when he comes in thick spurts over his chest and over your hand.

porco has a lip piercing. of course that asshole does. you’re just friends, you repeat yourself, friends with benefits but only that, friends. you reply with a thumbs up emoji when he sends you a photo of him as he left the tattoo parlor, as if you couldn’t feel the wetness forming between your legs. once it healed properly, all your attempts to ignore it go to waste. you can’t help but gently tug it with your teeth while you were making out on the hood of his car, late at night at your campus parking lot. you still remember the way he moaned and his pupils dilated before he ushed you inside his car and started taking his clothes off.

[renaerys]

PPG One-Shot: Spelling Bee (Brick/Blossom)

Happy birthday to @genovah​! She is always inspiring me to come up with more PPG content, a true hero. I’m back with another entry in the ongoing Shooketh, Not Stirred high school AU Reds series for your entertainment. As always, this can be read alone, but it happens in the same universe as part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, and part 5. This is also posted on my AO3.

Summary: Brick and Blossom hunker down in the library to study for the upcoming regional spelling bee.

***Reblogs are extremely appreciated, since this probably won’t show up in the tags due to cursing. Thank you! <3

xxx

In fairness, Brick had come to the library during his free period with the pure intention to learn. And he was certainly learning something. But somewhere between sliding into his seat opposite Blossom and watching her lips move around insouciant as if it were a strawberry slathered in ganache, his purity was torn from his weak, teenage boy fingers and there was absolutely no going back. 

“Brick, are you listening to me?” She touched his hand across the table. 

“Yup.”

“Did you need me to repeat the word?”

“Yup.”

“In-SOO-see-uhnt.” She sounded it out slowly, and hand to god, that dominating SOO went straight to his cock.

This, of course, was fine. 

“Origin?” he asked. 

She twirled her hair around her finger and puckered her lips. “French.”

Fuck.

“I…”

Blossom mistook his increasingly horny stupor for plain old stupor and sighed. “Are you even trying? Because if I didn’t know better, I’d say you were completely fine with Darla Dimpleton going to regionals instead of one of us.”

“I am not fine with that.”

Darla Dimpleton was an unassuming, unthreatening nobody with the personality of plain oatmeal. Brick would never have even bothered to learn her name had she not committed the cardinal sin of scoring so much extra credit while everyone else was busy having lives that she stole the number one GPA right from under him. Which meant she stole it from under Blossom too. Which meant Brick was no longer a respectable silver medal to Blossom’s gold, but currently ranked third and therefor merely happy to be on the podium at all (and for the record, no one has ever been happy merely to be on the podium, just like no one has ever been happy winning Most Improved: you sucked, and now you suck a little less. Except this time, you actually suck more because Darla fucking Dimpleton decided to Quaker Oats her way to the top of this rat race that doesn’t actually matter, but it’s the principle of the thing, i.e., the only thing that matters.). 

All of this to say, Darla Dimpleton was the Worst™ and she was one hundred percent going down. 

“Are you sure? Because you’re being awfully cavalier about this. Some might even call you insouciant.”

It was a testament to Brick’s powerful fondness for winning and being seen doing it that he spelled insouciant in one Darla Dimpleton-shaped cock blocking breath.

Blossom smiled like she knew something. “Much better.”  

Yeah, she knows a lot of things.

The problem with dating, Brick was convinced, was that suddenly the mundane became extraordinary. Everyday experiences that he had previously taken for granted—flying around Townsville, enjoying a cup of coffee, thwarting his sometimes murderous demonic overlord from distributing incriminating polaroids, that sort of thing—were suddenly exciting, thrilling even. Because now he got to do those things with Blossom, and Blossom was cool in a smarmy, elitist sort of way that both softened his heart and hardened his dick all at the same time, and that was kind of A Lot to deal with at 9 a.m. on a Tuesday.

“All right, do me,” Blossom said, and Brick coughed so badly his aforementioned weak, teenage boy fingers shook to stifle himself. 

Mercy, he thought, probably. But all his blood was rushing south and it was going to take a supernatural willpower to get through these words so that one of them could beat the upstart porridge peasant to this year’s regional spelling bee. 

“You’re the boss,” he said, because it was true, and also because he liked the way she looked at him when he said it. Like he was now the ganache-coated strawberry in this overextended metaphor that he was too laden with Homeric concupiscence being in her general proximity to unpack. 

Concupiscence, there’s a ten dollar word for you, you horny genius. 

He made a mental note to brag to Blossom about this later. 

“Okay, let’s see…” Brick made a show of organizing the flashcards so that she wouldn’t see him discreetly re-situate his pants under the table. “Your word is cymotrichous.”

Blossom tapped her lips, and Brick found himself sympathizing with the Puritans in their absolute befuddlement over the libidinous effect of women having lips. Witchcraft, surely. “Could you use it in a sentence for me?”

Compelled entirely by black magic and therefor not responsible for his imminently questionable choices, Brick obliged her with: “Thinking about how I’d rather run my fingers through your cymotrichous hair for the rest of free period instead of sit here spelling words no one’s ever heard of.”

Blossom, who he was dead certain was extremely thirsty for him and had been for years long before they ever reconciled their rivalry, leaned over the desk separating them. Her hair, long and loose and indeed quite wavy today, was tempting. “Brick, are you flirting with me?”

It was a well-known fact of being a Weak-Fingered, Teenage Boy that one must never reveal such weakness, especially not in front of one’s girlfriend. On the other hand, co-opting said weakness and rebranding it as the suave truth was galaxy brain levels of flirting. And Brick, as has already been established, was a horny genius. “Yup.” He leaned in to meet her, and he twirled her hair between his fingers because they were weak for her, indeed. “How am I doing?”

Blossom, too determined to let her thirst deter her from her goal of sweet, academic retribution and bragging rights, tapped a finger to his lips. “Great. But we have so many words to spell, and only thirty minutes left to do them all. So get shuffling, stud.”

Well, he could work with that. One thing that made his relationship with Blossom work very well was their insatiable competitiveness. Whether they were whaling on each other over an empty parking lot, debating the efficacy of post-its as a note-taking device, or combining their powers to Captain Planet a cornmeal know-it-all back down the leaderboard where she belonged, they were relentless glory chasers. And the greater the challenge, the more they enjoyed the experience and each other. 

Blossom spelled her word perfectly, by the way. She stretched out the o-u-s at the end in a bewitching little whisper as she pulled away and her hair slipped through his fingers. That moment when the light changes and the temperature shifts and you’re weightless in a state of existential anticipation of something monumental about to happen, but not quite? That happened. Thirty minutes to explore the shape of that anticipation was enough time to taste it but not enough to savor it. Which, Brick supposed, was about to make this the best thirty minutes he was likely going to get all week. 

“Are you ready?” Blossom watched him from behind the card she’d drawn. She had a glint in her eyes that told him she was smiling behind that card. 

“Anytime.”

“Your word is eudaemonic.”

That fucking gorgeous ooh again.

“Define it.”

Blossom flushed as though he had just ordered her to bend over. She bit her lip (it must have been a ten Hail Mary’s kind of day when the Witch-Finder General caught a flesh and blood woman doing that with her improbably sorcerous lips) and grinned. “It means producing happiness. Based on the idea of happiness as the proper end of conduct.”

Producing happiness, which is proper, much like how Blossom came off as proper and even prim around adults, when really she was the most fun, most confident, most person he’d ever met, especially when she was spelling in that chiffon top (son of a bitch, that was a great top on her), and the only conduct he was interested in was of the happiest kind.

“Oh.” His throat clenched, and then his stomach twisted, and then his pants grew little too tight again in a full-body chain reaction that began and ended with a fierce determination not to give in first even though it would mean release because release would be meaningless without this etymological tête-à-tête. 

Don’t think about tête-à-têtes. 

Seventeenth century, noun, borrowed from the French meaning literally “head to head” (please, please stop hurting yourself like this).

“Brick?”

Brick cleared his throat. “Yup. Got it. E-u-d…”

Crisis averted, Brick picked the next card and promptly choked on his own tongue. Blossom made a show like she was concerned and are you all right? and please drink some water. Brick drank her water, which of course she had had her anatomically heretical lips on earlier, which was just fantastic for him. Tuesday fucking morning. 

Milieu was her word. 

“Milieu, hmm.” Blossom’s smile was spellbinding, which was a pun because he punned when he panicked. “Origin?”

You bitch, he thought, and be cool, and also, witchcraft.

Brick leaned back in his chair, slipped his trembling hands in his pockets, and squeezed every ounce of anything you can do I can do better into a winsome grin. “French.”

Blossom’s adult-facing façade cracked like an egg, and he got a glimpse of the raw delight she felt for this game, for the words, and for him for making it happen. For cultivating the electric milieu, if you will, currently driving them both into a state of impassioned, competitive euphoria at 9:42 a.m. in the library. 

“Right, um…” She stumbled over her words, and Brick had to restrain himself from crowing for joy and risk the rheumy-eyed librarian coming to scold them. 

By the time they got through another set of words, they were each visibly frustrated and doubly turned on by the other’s masochistic resolve not to throw in the towel. 

“Okay, ready for another round?” 

She wasn’t even trying to hide her intentions now, and that was just fine with Brick. “Of course.”

One more.

If it was another French word, he was fucking done. 

“Really?” Blossom truly had ice in her veins for the way she was able to school her face then. He couldn’t read her, and that was very bad. 

If it’s another fucking French word…

He could be over the desk and on her faster than you could say concupiscence. 

“Okay.” Blossom set down the flashcard she’d drawn and folded her hands on the table. She looked him dead in the eye licked her lips. “Succedaneum.”

The bookshelf shook but Brick’s fingers didn’t as they pinned Blossom’s over a Dewey Decimal-stamped spine and he kissed her with all the horny passion of a teenage genius who would make a note to thank the devil for giving women lips. One of his better ideas. 

xxx

“Hey, has anyone seen Blossom? I’ve sent her, like, four texts!” Bubbles shoved her phone, open to the ignored texts in question, in her sister’s face. “She was supposed to help me with Chem homework.”

Buttercup ducked. “No, and watch where you’re swinging that thing.”

“I saw her earlier,” Boomer said. “She was with Brick coming out of first period.”

“Oh, yeah.” Mike slung his arm around Boomer’s shoulders. “Don’t they both have a free period right now?”

Buttercup rolled her eyes. “What a scam. Whoever decided to give the A-students free periods while the rest of us mere mortals gotta slave away is a straight-up Supervillain.”

Boomer snapped his fingers. “Hey, I just remembered! They both decided to compete for the spot at the regional spelling bee this year. I bet that’s what they’re doing.”

“God, that’s the saddest thing I have ever heard in my life. That’s a new low even for Blossom.”

“I heard there’s a cash prize for the regional winner,” Bubbles said. “It’s like twenty thousand bucks! Remember, everyone in school signed up and we had to have that assembly to narrow it down?”

“Twenty thou— How the tits did I miss that?!”

“I mean, it was all over the school,” Mike said. “We signed up too.”

“What? And no one thought to tell me I could’ve won the lottery?”

Boomer chuckled. “Dude, come on. You wouldn’t have stood a chance in hell against Darla Dimpleton.”

“Who?”

Bubbles cast Boomer a not worth it look, and he just sighed. “So, if they’re studying for the spelling bee, do you think they’re in the library?”

At that moment, Butch came bursting down the hall a little too fast to be human. Open lockers rattled on their hinges as he passed, and a Sophomore girl’s binder went flying, scattering looseleaf papers everywhere. Buttercup looked ready to punch him in the dick for breaking the no powers in school rule. “Guys, you’re gonna shit!” 

“Calm down before you blow a load, Jesus Christ.” Buttercup yanked him back down to the floor so he wouldn’t spontaneously float. 

Sensibly, Boomer asked, “Why?”

“‘Cause Brick and Blossom are making out in the library right now!”

Mike cringed. “Oh, come on.”

“The hell they are,” Buttercup said. 

Bubbles smiled. “Good for them.”

“I’m serious! There were books everywhere, and the noise—”

“Oh look, there goes my dignity. Better catch it before it gets away. C’mon, moron.” Buttercup dragged Butch down the hall over his protests. “What were you even doing in the library? I didn’t think you knew where it was…”

“Like that could ever happen,” Mike said. “Those two wouldn’t waste a minute of study time if it means beating out the competition.”

Boomer did not look so convinced. “I don’t know. I mean, they’re officially, for real dating now,”—“Finally!” Mike interjected—“so it’s not that unbelievable.”

The bell for the next period rang. Bubbles groaned thinking of stewing for an hour of Chem. At least she shared that class with Boomer and would not have to suffer alone. They parted from Mike and walked together through the throng of students rushing to get to their next period.

“Hey, do you think…” 

“I mean…” Boomer shrugged. 

They rounded the corner and nearly ran into Blossom dashing to her next class with a rushed “Got your texts talk later bye!” before she disappeared into the crowd. 

Bubbles whirled on Boomer. “Did you see her buttons—”

“Completely uneven—”

The late bell rang and made them jump. Among the last stragglers, they both dashed a bit too fast to get to class and made it to their seats just as Mr. Micelli finished writing a problem on the board. 

Boomer winked when she caught his eye a couple desks away from hers, and it took everything she had not to laugh.

“Good for her,” Bubbles said to herself. 

“You are late,” Mr. Micelli said. 

Everyone turned to watch Brick sink into his seat, his short hair totally askew and looking healthily flushed for a Tuesday morning. 

Boomer burst out laughing and needed a whole minute to calm down. 

He’d tell her later that the detention was worth it.

xxx

Witchcraft! 👁️👄👁️✨

[confused-stars]

I saw your tags for the Sign AU, and I can't stop thinking about the possible interrogation. Shigaraki is preparing himself for hours of grueling questions about locations, members, quirks, and plans. But then his favorite hero shows up and asks how he knows his sign name? It's been two hours and Shigaraki still doesn't understand why they are asking about this. He is confused. Aizawa is confused. And AFO has no idea about all the chaos a sign name has caused.

*clears throat* may i-

It must have been hours at this point. Tomura is sure, from how drained he feels and how tight his stomach is with hunger. They’ve offered him a sandwich, sure, but he wasn’t about to accept it. Especially since the handcuffs around his wrists were clearly created with him - or touch-based quirk users - specifically in mind: rather than hold his hands behind his back, or loosely in front, they force his palms together, fingers pressed against each other as if he’s praying, secured together with five sets of dual rings that wrap around his joints. It’s not uncomfortable, but it also leaves him just a little more helpless. If he wants to eat, someone will have to feed him, and he absolutely refuses to even entertain the notion.

Kurogiri is still out there. The League is still out there. They’ll come for him if only he waits long enough. They’ll find out where he is. He’s not being moved to Tartarus, he knows that much, because Sensei is there and they don’t want them close. 

He almost wishes they would move him. That they'd just give it up already. He hasn't said a word since they brought him in.

Well... that's not entirely true.

When All Might was here earlier, tired and skinny looking and... and pathetic, with no right to keep his head held high like that, and he called Tomura by a name that's not his (it's not, it's not, it's not), Tomura did snap at him to shut up. To 'fucking stop it'. He hated the kicked puppy look. the gentle words that felt like poison to Tomura's ears, because who does All Might think he is? Tomura Shigaraki is still a villain. Tenko Shimura is dead. When he spat that out, All Might's resolve hardened, and he began a more traditional interrogation. At that point, Tomura couldn't have answered even if he'd wanted to. He still can't speak, now. They obviously don't know that. It’s a weakness he’s not just going to admit to.

Tomura’s head jerks up when a set of steps actually stops outside the door. He shakes a loose strand of hair out of his face, hating that he can’t even brush them aside himself. Who is it this time? The detective with the lie detector quirk again? Or someone who can actually force Tomura to speak? How far are these heroes willing to go?

But the door opens, and it’s the one person Tomura can’t help but be shocked to see. Eraserhead.

Tired-looking as always, the scar underneath his eye a new addition from when Tomura last saw him in person. What’s he doing here? Tomura wishes he could ask. Instead, he just settles for a somewhat confused glare.

Eraserhead looks him up and down, expression unreadable. All underground heroes must have good poker faces, Tomura thinks. He wishes he had that ability. Tomura is not a good liar. He never needed to be.

“When’s the last time you had something to drink?” Eraserhead asks, hands moving to sign along, and, okay, is he here to play good cop? Playing off the begrudging respect Tomura has for him?

Tomura doesn’t move. He keeps glaring. Eraserhead sighs and approaches the table, dropping down in the chair opposite Tomura. He fumbles with a pouch on his belt for a moment, and eventually pulls out a juice box. It’s almost enough to make Tomura laugh at the absurdity - it’s the same brand Kurogiri buys. Eraserhead stabs the straw through the little hole on top and pushes it over on the table. Tomura looks down at the juice box, then up at him. He is thirsty. His throat is dry enough that swallowing hurts a little, and the sugar in the juice will definitely be helpful, and when the League comes to break him out, he’ll need to be in the best shape he can hope for. 

He sinks down in his seat the best he can, and stretches his head forward until he can catch the straw between his lips. It’s still humiliating, though better than someone holding it for him, and he looks anywhere but Eraserhead as he empties the juice box within seconds.

“Well, that’s a start.” Eraserhead slumps in his seat and sighs, sounding very world-weary. Tomura knows the man is only in his early thirties, but he seems to have been aging rapidly lately. That’s probably due to Tomura’s own actions. He wonders what Eraserhead sees when he looks at him. A victim to be saved, like All Might apparently thinks? Just a too skinny kid who is in over his head? Or is he actually smart enough to understand that Tomura doesn’t want, doesn’t need saving? That Tomura is the monster they should all be afraid of and he lives for it?

Maybe Eraserhead sees a little bit of both. Those eyes of his are very sharp. Tomura should have had the noumu take them, back at the USJ. Then his quirk wouldn’t have been a problem anymore either.

“I’d love to know what you’re thinking,” Eraserhead tells him, voice dry as Compress’ favored liquor.

Tomura raises a brow at him. Shrugs. Looks away.

Eraserhead is silent for a little while. The seconds tick by, though Tomura can’t be sure that his count is correct. There’s no clock in here. No window, either, of course. He has no way of telling how long he’s really been here. If he ends up falling asleep eventually, he’ll be completely lost. Hopefully his rescue comes before that.

“... Shigaraki,” Eraserhead says finally, slowly, “If you wanted to talk to me right now, would you be able to?”

Oh. Oh, no. Tomura knows they're being watched, but he doesn’t know how the detective’s quirk works, if he can detect a lie when it’s just communicated through a gesture... but even if he can’t... Tomura nodding right now would kind of prove Eraserhead’s point, wouldn’t it? So he sighs and gives a jerky shake of his head.

Eraserhead nods, clearly Tomura just confirmed what he suspected. Because unlike most heroes, Eraserhead actually has the brains to back up his quirk and fighting skills. "Detective, I'm going to need the key to those cuffs."

There's a crackle from the speaker in the corner of the room. "That doesn't seem like a wise idea."

Ah, arguing right in front of him. Tomura smiles lazily, even though he hates having his face exposed like this. They took Father and the others, of course. He's going to have to find them before they leave.

"I'll erase his quirk if he tries anything. You want him to communicate, don't you?" Eraserhead asks, a tad snappy.

There's a long pause, then the door opens and the detective steps through. He doesn't take his eyes off of Tomura, even as he hands Eraserhead a single, tiny key. Tomura returns his gaze with an outward calm that he's not feeling at all. He can't make them go back on this decision, he wants so desperately to have his hands free so he can scratch that incessant itch that's been growing worse and worse with each passing minute.

"You're going to let me take these off you without trying anything, right?" Eraserhead asks. They have no replacement cuffs, but those would be a farce anyway, wouldn't they? And if they want Tomura to sign, he'll need greater range than a standard set of them would allow him. He rolls his eyes and nods, presenting his folded hands to the hero. The detective watches for another moment or two, then steps back out, undoubtedly to continue observing.

It takes a little fumbling on Eraserhead's part to get the cuffs off, with all their little moving pieces, and he's either being very careful so he won't hurt himself on accident, or, less likely, so he won't hurt Tomura. Tomura's own eyes drift to his elbow and he wonders about the massive scar that must be hidden underneath that sleeve.

Finally, his hands are free, and gently glowing red eyes turn to his face.

Tomura ignores him for the time being in order to scratch at his neck, deep and thorough until he tears skin.

Eraserhead makes an aborted movement, as if to stop him, but then seems to change his mind, fist clenched atop the table. Good. If he wants Tomura coherent, he'll need to let him fight off the onset of another episode that's been looming for a while.

"Did All for One teach you sign language because of your nonverbal phases?" Eraserhead asks. It makes Tomura very aware of the fact that he doesn't usually do interrogations. This is none of the usual bullshit, talking around the point for ages. This is blunt and straight to the point.

Tomura gives a headshake.

Eraserhead waits, expectant.

Tomura thinks the hero is lucky he's bored and his is an innocent line of questioning and he actually respects Eraserhead. That's why he pulls his hand away from his neck and signs 'Sensei doesn't speak sign.'

"Who taught you, then?" Immediate, no hesitation. Why does he want to know this, of all things? Literally anything else would be more important. He may as well be asking how Tomura got so proficient at darts.

He sighs, and spells it out. 'K-U-R-O-G-I-R-I'

Eraserhead's brows draw together. "He taught you things? How long has he been around?"

Tomura presses his lips together and glares. Like hell is he giving them anything on the rest of the League. Especially Kurogiri.

The hero sighs. "Look, kid." Tomura scoffs.

"... Shigaraki. Back at the USJ, you used a name for me that's different from my official hero name. It's a name very few people know."

Now it's Tomura's turn to frown. He knows what the separate signs of Eraserhead's name mean, of course, and he's often thought they were odd, but seeing as his own sign name is also anything but villainous he didn't think he had room to judge.

'Your sign name?' he asks, 'Eraserhead?'

"No." The hero shakes his head and makes a series of signs. "Eraserhead." He then repeats the signs Tomura just used. "Shouta."

Oh. Well, that's awkward. Tomura gets the entirely absurd urge to apologize.

Having his sign name used by an enemy who very nearly killed him must be pretty uncomfortable for Eraser. Tomura would never want his enemies to know his own. It's private, and it was a gift that Kurogiri gave him. Even the rest of the League doesn't know it, they only know the one Tomura made up for himself, reusing the name of his quirk for it.

'Not many people know?' Tomura questions.

Eraserhead huffs. "Do I look like the kind of person who goes around sharing information like that?" Probably not, no.

Tomura nods. 'That's why you're here?'

"There's a lot that's odd about you, ki- Shigaraki. A lot that doesn't add up. This, in particular, is something that's been causing me some problems."

Oh.

Oh. Tomura can't help the laugh that breaks out of him, his voice returning only for the giggles that shake his shoulders. Eraserhead thought one of his trusted few had betrayed him. Had given the information to Tomura. That's too good. He almost wants to make him keep believing it. Or even tell him a lie, but, again, the detective is on the other side of the two-way mirror.

"I'm glad this is funny to you," Eraserhead says dryly, "Care to let me in on the joke?"

Tomura is still giggling when he signs, and maybe that's why he makes the mistake.

'Kurogiri taught me,' he says, 'But good to know I created some mistrust among you.'

Eraserhead is frozen in his seat. Even his quirk is inactive now, as Tomura suddenly realizes. He's held out pretty long. His eyes have got to hurt. Maybe Tomura can make him overextend himself. But there's too many guns nearby. Tranquilizers, no doubt. He wouldn't get very far, even if a kill or two would be satisfying.

'Can I have another juice box?' he asks, just to be difficult.

Eraserhead jerks out of his stupor. "Who... who did you say taught you?"

Did Tomura use Kurogiri's sign name on accident? Huh.

'K-U-R-O-G-I-R-I. Sign name: Kurogiri.' His hands form 'fluffy' and 'cloud' like they have a hundred thousand times. It's a cutesy name for someone who is not cutesy at all. But so is 'Dust Bunny' and so is 'Sleepy Cat'.

Eraserhead takes a shaky breath. His fingers are trembling when he signs 'Fluffy Cloud' himself. "Oboro," he says, "That's... what that... who that name belongs to. Shirakumo Oboro." He looks like he's very far away, but at the same time couldn't be more in the moment. He's pale, but his eyes are focused and dark. "Shigaraki. Tell me about Kurogiri."

It's in that moment that the door gets blown into pieces by a blast of blue flames.

And the shouting and running and destruction that follow don't really give them much more room for idle chit-chat.

[georgescatcafe]

heaven can wait (we’re only watching the skies)

rating: t warning/s: slight internalized homophobia pairing/s: dreamnap genres/tags: high school au, friends to lovers word count: 6,639 summary: Dream was initially going to go to prom with him. Not, like, as a date, but… as a friend. Just two guys hanging out together. They’d go together and hang out and make fun of the people there, maybe, and they’d eat food that neither of them trusted to be good and they’d see if the punch was spiked and they’d have fun. Together.

And then Sapnap had checked the school website to find the rules changed. Only students from their school allowed, no exceptions. And Dream was homeschooled in a program completely separate to the school.

It sucked.

And now here Sapnap is, emptily drinking soda and watching a basketball game featuring teams he honestly doesn’t even care about. And thinking about Dream.

+ao3

;;

“Dude,” Sapnap says into the phone, staring blankly at the school’s website, “I have, like, zero interest in prom now that you can’t come. That rule is so stupid.”

“It is, but you’re not sneaking me in and getting suspended,” Dream replies.

“That’s only if I get caught,” Sapnap argues, “which I won’t.”

“Don’t even risk it.” Dream sighs, and Sapnap lets out one of his own in agreement. “Just go, and think about what we can do the next day—ice cream, maybe a drive to the beach, hey! Monday is Skip Day, right? Let’s stay the night at the beach. That’s awesome, right? Prom and then all that?”

“Prom without you, though?” Sapnap isn’t convinced.

He can see Dream’s frown crystal clear in his mind. “Don’t throw away unforgettable experiences just because of me. Besides, aren’t some of your friends going?”

“Our friends,” Sapnap corrects, even though that’s not entirely true. In freshman year, before, they were always more Sapnap’s friends than Dream’s, and even then, there weren’t that many in their group—just Sapnap, Dream, a guy from chess club, and two guys from the egamer group that met once every too many months.

Dream lets out a breath. “Our friends,” he agrees, nonetheless. “So isn’t that enough?”

“It’s just not right,” Sapnap says. “You belong in my unforgettable experiences, Dream.”

“Don’t go waxing poetic on me, Pandas,” Dream scolds, though it’s hard to take him seriously with both the nickname and the fondness creeping into his voice. 

“I’ll do it,” Sapnap repeats, “sneak you in. I’ll do it and I’ll get away with it and it’ll be fun. For both of us.”

“Sapnap,” Dream tries one last time, and he sounds so tired, so utterly exhausted, that Sapnap cuts him off.

“Fine,” he says, “you win. You’re not going, and I’m going without,” Sapnap swallows, “without you.”

;;

Come the final day to buy tickets, however, and Sapnap is still without one for himself, and without a suit, and without a date, and without a plan on getting to prom. He eyes the ticket booth warily, knowing if he chooses not to buy one today, it’s over for him.

Janson, one of the guys from the egamer group, takes a seat at the lunch table next to him. “Are you going?”

Sapnap stares at the booth for another second before shrugging. “Not really my scene.”

“Your scene?”

“Loud,” Sapnap replies, poking halfheartedly at his soggy rice, switching to the fruit drowning in juice. “Lots of people. I don’t really care.”

“Is it ‘cause you don’t have a date?” Janson asks. “Because yeah, that sucks, but no one actually cares, dude.”

Sapnap glances over at him for a second before shrugging once more and finally taking a bite of his weird blueberry mush. “I know. It’s not ‘cause of that. I just don’t really want to go.”

Janson studies him before nodding and stirring his own blueberry mush around with a spoon. “Suit yourself. We’ll miss you, though.”

At that, Sapnap laughs. “You don’t have to lie for me. But thanks, man.”

Janson gives him an easy smile. “Any time.”

;;

The hardest part is telling Dream.

But Sapnap wasn’t lying when he told Janson prom isn’t his scene. It is a lot—lots of people, lots of noise, lots going on in general. He doesn’t care about nor want that. He’d rather take a quiet night at home watching basketball with his dad on the couch over getting knocked between sweaty girls and guys while bass shakes the floor beneath him. Maybe, if he doesn’t make him too angry, Sapnap can even convince Dream to come over before their scheduled meeting the next day.

He can only hope Dream understands as he types this all out in a late night Discord message explaining what happened. And then he tries to throw himself into a game of CSGO, and when that doesn’t work, a game of League. When that doesn’t work either, he just rises out of his chair and flops pathetically onto his bed, closing his eyes and praying for sleep to come fast.

When he wakes up, it’s to six new messages from Dream—a rare sight—and two missed calls. Sapnap stares at the notifications until his eyes sting.

Dream: i mean, it’s ur choice, but i rly don’t want u to regret this sap

He won’t. 

Dream: and as it turns out, my older sister has something going on this weekend, so we can’t meet up either :( sorry :(

That’s… okay. It’s fine. Sapnap gets it. Just a weekend for himself, then.

Dream: are u sure u don’t want to go? r u sure u’re sure?

Dream: i sound naggy ik i just don’t want u missing out on these things

Dream: ok?

Dream: sap?

Sapnap types his response—he won’t regret it, sucks about this weekend but it’s fine, Dream’s not being naggy, really, and sorry, he was asleep—then hits send and tries not to feel too bad about everything.

Unsurprisingly, “everything” doesn’t include the prom itself. Sapnap really couldn’t care less about the actual prom.

;;

The rest of the week passes by quickly, and before Sapnap knows it, it’s prom night, and he’s sitting on the couch next to his dad, basketball game on the TV and soda can in his hand. And then it’s time for prom to start, and the ball is tossed into the air. Briefly, Sapnap wonders if Janson scored a date—though he consoled Sapnap over his lack of one, he never talked about his own. 

Sapnap wonders what Dream is doing, why they didn’t decide to simply meet up tonight. Maybe he was sleeping? Playing Minecraft? Maybe he was thinking about Sapnap?

Maybe he was thinking about Sapnap.

Sapnap blinks, and the score changes from 12-8 to 12-11. From the other side of the couch, his dad leans closer to the TV. Sapnap sends a glance back to the kitchen, wondering if they still have those chips he likes. His dad crunches on cheddar Ruffles. 

Dream was initially going to go to prom with him. Not, like, as a date—not like that. That’s weird, but… as a friend. Just two guys hanging out together. Maybe they’d match, probably not, but they’d go together and hang out and make fun of the people there, maybe, and they’d eat food that neither of them trusted to be good and they’d see if the punch was spiked and they’d have fun. Together. 

And then Sapnap had checked the school website to find the rules changed. Only students from their school allowed, no exceptions. And Dream was homeschooled in a program completely separate to the school.

It sucked.

And now here Sapnap is, emptily drinking soda and watching a basketball game featuring teams he honestly doesn’t even care about. And thinking about Dream. 

Sapnap downs the rest of his soda. “I think I’m going to go play some League.” He stands and crushes his can in his hand.

His dad doesn’t look away from the TV. “Don’t stay up too late.”

“I won’t,” Sapnap says, but he doesn’t even know if his dad’s heard, since he’s already back in his room, door slammed shut behind him, can tossed into the trash and chair creaking as he falls into it.

Despite his dad’s words, Sapnap games late into the night, and when he wakes, his head hurts from the way he’s had it pressed to the desk, asleep for however many hours. He shakes his computer mouse till the monitor comes on and he stares at it blearily as he realizes he managed to close out of his games before falling asleep. His Discord is empty, no new messages, no missed calls, and he sighs before sending a message to Dream.

Long day?

He closes out of the app before spinning around and heading out of his room to scrounge for breakfast. His dad isn’t in the living room, though the bag of Ruffles he’d been eating from sits there on the coffee table, empty, and the remote still rests on the arm of the couch. Sapnap can only assume he headed to bed after the game ended.

Once in the kitchen, he searches through the fridge before deciding to just eat a bowl or two of cereal. Part of him is still into the fanfare of prom, and he’s filled with a quiet shock at how mundane Sunday morning feels, in comparison to what was likely a crazy night for a bunch of seventeen- and eighteen-year-olds. Sapnap bites back a derisive snort. Last night was so crazy for him. Totally.

But it was his choice, and he doesn’t regret it. 

Now if he had gone, he’d regret that he’d gone without doing everything he could to get Dream there. And that’s a regret he just couldn’t live with. 

Sapnap sets his now empty bowl in the sink.

Skipping prom? Yeah, he doesn’t regret it.

;;

Come two weeks later, and Dream is sitting next to him on a park bench telling him about a different prom, one they can go to together, one without rules, without limitations.

Sapnap doesn’t even need to hear the rest of it before he’s agreeing, throwing an arm around Dream’s shoulders and talking quickly about how great the night will be. 

“It’s actually themed,” Dream finally interrupts him, holding a hand up and stopping Sapnap mid-daydream.

“Oh?”

Dream nods. “Decades. Got any ideas?”

He doesn’t. When he tells Dream as much, Dream sighs, staring out at the empty swingswet, the swings swaying slightly in the summer breeze. Sapnap sighs too, though he watches his friend, not the playground. “We could do, like, Dad Rock. Seventies, y’know?”

At that, Dream laughs, full and loud, and Sapnap smiles by reflex. Dream rests his chin in his palms, elbows digging into the tops of his thighs. “Remember when we read The Outsiders in eighth grade? What were they called? We could be those.”

“Oh,” Sapnap bites back a snort, “uh, greasies? No,” he and Dream speak at the same time, “greasers!” The laugh he’d been keeping down finally breaks free, spilling past his lips as Dream grins. “We could be those. We’re hot.”

“So hot,” Dream agrees, though he’s still giggling slightly, turning away from Sapnap so the other can’t see his smile, but his shaking shoulders give away his amusement.

Sapnap grins, bright, happy. “When is it again?” he asks.

Dream leans back, head tilting back so he can stare up at the clear blue sky. “A month from now. June 7th. Think you can go?”

“Uh, yeah,” Sapnap says, like it’s obvious. (Because it is obvious. Even if he couldn’t, he’d find a way to go. He’s just that loyal. To Dream, specifically, but that’s not important.) He clears his throat at his own thoughts. “I definitely can go.”

Dream looks to him, then, small smile on his face. “Awesome.”

Sapnap smiles back. Awesome.

;;

May trudges on like its stuck in the mud, Sapnap counting down the days until this rule-less prom. Dream was pretty sparing with the details, only saying it’s date and theme, and Sapnap can’t help but itch with the need to know everything. When he questions Dream for more info, however, the other shrugs him off, turning the tables and asking him if he’s settled on a decade yet.

“I thought we were choosing together,” Sapnap tells him over a Discord call one night, prom finally only a week away.

“So nothing?” Dream asks. “Let’s meet up tomorrow; we’ll figure it out then.”

It’s a plan, and come eleven in the morning, he and Dream are meeting outside of the city’s mall. “This feels kind of stupid,” Sapnap admits when they go through the sliding doors leading to Macy’s mens’ department. “Like, wow, we’re really putting effort into it.”

“Says you when there’s only a week left,” Dream replies. “Putting effort into it means having had our costumes in our closets since the day I told you about it.”

“True,” Sapnap replies, picking up a paisley tie from the clearance table. “What is this?”

Dream takes it from him, setting it back down. “Something we definitely don’t want.”

“Yeah,” Sapnap keeps his eyes on it as they walk away, “no shit.”

They don’t buy anything from Macy’s mens’ department. For an hour they wander aimlessly up and down the mall, more time spent talking rather than looking. It’s only until Sapnap’s stomach rumbles that the two of them realize they’ve gotten nothing done. Their feet finally take them to the food court.

“Shopping for a prom outfit is hard,” Sapnap says into his fries, while Dream nods in agreement shoving a chicken nugget into his mouth and staring down at a greasy spot on the table. “I mean, my feet hurt, and we haven’t even bought a t-shirt or something.”

“We haven’t even gone inside a store,” Dream replies.

Sapnap groans, shoving a fry in his mouth. “This is so stupid.”

They walk the mall again, this time going into various stores, pointing out ridiculous gag gifts and Sapnap picking up more hideous ties. Finally, Dream grabs a leather jacket off the Dillard’s clearance rack and tugs it on over his shoulders. It’s military-style, almost, the shoulders strong, and when Dream turns, it stretches broad across his back before tapering off at his waist. Sapnap swallows. It fits Dream well.

When Dream turns back around, Sapnap’s eyes shoot back up to his face, and he hopes his face isn’t as red as it is hot. He grabs the jacket next to it, also a large luckily, and puts it on. Dream gives him a thumbs up when he turns around to show it off.

“Looks good,” Dream says, and his cheeks aren’t red, and Sapnap isn’t disappointed about that.

They buy the jackets, think about what shoes they own, then buy some cheapy black shades.

“I don’t know if I can do my hair like they did,” Sapnap tells Dream when they go back through Macy’s and pass some grooming kits, jars of pomade on the shelf next to them.

“I might be able to,” Dream says, studying his reflection in the mirror on the post next to the grooming kits. He’s always kept his hair cropped pretty close, but Sapnap knows it’s been awhile since he’s gotten it cut, bangs starting to grow in the front, actually almost reaching his brows. Sapnap thinks it suits Dream, but he sees the way Dream always tries to push his hair back, though it always flops back into place.

“Maybe,” Sapnap agrees. “I think the glasses and jacket should be enough if you can’t though, right?”

Dream glances at the jars of pomade before nodding. “Right.”

;;

Dream and him got their licenses at sixteen, but Dream says he can pick Sapnap up Saturday, “don’t worry about gas money.”

“Are you sure?” Sapnap asks Saturday morning, both about the picking-up and the gas money.

“I’m sure,” Dream replies. “Just be out in front of your house before six, okay?”

“Sounds good,” Sapnap says. “You don’t think our parents want any pictures, would they?”

“Of course not,” Dream answers. “Your dad taking pictures of the two of us?”

“My stepmom maybe,” Sapnap laughs, but she left the house that morning, heading to the city to do her own business. She’s not going to get any pictures of them.

Dream laughs too before he finally says, “See you later then,” and Sapnap is left rushing to get dressed.

He feels giddy, almost, heart racing and stomach turning over itself. His hair has grown out much like Dream’s has over the school year, him never bothering to get it cut or trimmed, and he gives up on the pompadour when it comes out a wet looking lump on the top of his head, strings of hair falling in his face. He sighs and rinses out the product in the sink, leaving it to air dry and drip droplets onto his white t-shirt. By 5:45pm, he’s sweating, face flushed and chest tight, stomach still doing flips, and he ties his mostly dry hair back into a low ponytail, hoping it’s not too off-brand. Finally, he pulls on his jacket, though it feels restrictive and hot with the summer air and his nerves, and he has to stare at himself in the mirror for the next ten minutes repeating to himself that it’s just Dream and that it’s not romantic and that he’s acting like a freak, stupid and quite possibly into his best friend. (But he’s not.)

Then he marches himself out to his curb and sits.

Dream pulls up a couple minutes after six, his hair actually done Greaser-style, and damn it, he looks good.

(Sapnap can think that. He’s not blind. Anyone could see that his best friend is attractive. It’s just a general thing. Not a thing.)

When he gets into the passenger seat, Dream grins at him from behind matching dark sunglasses. “Looking good.”

“We look hot, man,” Sapnap says, a lot more casual than he feels.

The grin doesn’t leave Dream’s face as he puts the car in drive and takes off down the road.

Sapnap honestly doesn’t know where his nerves have come from—how is this prom any different from the school one, like, actually? How is Dream and him going to this one any different from them going to the high school’s? They won’t know anyone at this one, he’s pretty sure, but who cares? Isn’t that better for them? He glances over at Dream, who’s got his wrists crossed over the steering wheel as they speed down the highway to their destination.

It’s just Dream. Sapnap is just excited. It’s normal. It’s Dream.

He lets himself relax.

;;

“What the fuck?” Sapnap whispers to Dream when two girls pass by them looking straight out of some period piece. “I thought you said this was decades themed?”

Dream looks just as perturbed, brows furrowed as a girl and a guy dressed like pirates enter after the Victorian girls. “Guess they meant all decades,” he replies.

Sapnap stares at him before they reach the check-in counter where a woman with her face painted like a member of KISS checks their ages and directs them to the room where the prom’s held.

Madonna plays loud over the speakers, and Sapnap eyes a kid who spins his hands around his face while a small group of onlookers watch in awe. He glances over at Dream, who continues to face forward, leading him over to an empty table, undisturbed. When they sit down, Sapnap turns to the dance floor, where the Victorian girls are, twirling and laughing, and where a boy looking straight out of the 80s sways with another who wears a hat like Jamie from Mythbusters and suspenders attached to plaid, fitted pants. Sapnap watches them for another second before turning stiffly to Dream.

“Where are we?” he asks carefully.

“Sapnap,” Dream starts, but a look from Sapnap has his mouth shutting fast. He stares right back before sighing, leaning back in his chair. “I’m sorry. I didn’t—I mean, I knew, but I didn’t think it’d—look, we can leave. It’s fine.”

“Well,” Sapnap huffs, dropping his gaze to his lap, where his fingers grip the denim of his jeans tightly, knuckles turning white, “it’s not fine, but—I don’t really want to leave. I like—I wanted to go to prom with you.”

A laugh, and Sapnap looks over quickly to see the 80s boy tugging the Mythbusters hat’s jacket over his shoulders. Sapnap thinks he might be sick.

“Not like that,” he adds.

“Right,” Dream says.

The booming of the bass rattles Sapnap to his core, along with the table. Even the hand Dream has placed on it doesn’t stop it from shaking. Sapnap wonders what would happen if he were to take Dream’s hand. Dream pulls it back and drops it into his lap. Sapnap tightens his hold on his jeans.

“I am sorry,” Dream tells him. “But I didn’t really think you’d mind. We’re friends, Sapnap. Why does where we are have to change that?”

“It doesn’t,” Sapnap replies, but people can misunderstand. People will misunderstand. He tells Dream as much.

Dream frowns, leans forward. Sapnap doesn’t meet his gaze. “Sapnap,” Dream says, “why would they misunderstand?”

Because they match. Because, under the table, their feet knock against each other. Because when Sapnap looks at Dream, the rest of the world disappears, and he’s certain the rest of the world knows it.

“Doesn’t matter,” Sapnap mutters. “They just would.”

Dream says something. It’s lost to the sound of Rihanna, declaring that a bitch better have her money. Sapnap’s foot taps quickly against the floor, and this time, when it brushes up against Dream’s, he readjusts, feet no longer under the table. Dream sighs, resting his chin on his palm. 

Finally, he looks to Sapnap again. “Does it bother you that much?”

“Does what bother me?”

Dream stares at him for a second before looking out at the dance floor. “Them misunderstanding?”

“Doesn’t it bother you?” Sapnap asks.

Dream is silent for so long after that Sapnap almost forgets he’s waiting for a response. “No,” Dream says at last. “It doesn’t.”

Sapnap doesn’t know how to reply to that.

They just sit there after that, watching the crowd wax and wane, change based on the song playing. Dream pushes himself up out of his chair when a familiar number starts. He holds out a hand. “Come on.”

Sapnap stares at the hand. “Dude, he says, “what.”

“Dance,” Dream replies. “Come on. Let’s go.”

“What the fuck?” Sapnap lets out a laugh, glancing over at Mythbusters hat and 80s boy. They’re laughing over something on 80s boy’s phone, foreheads resting close together, cheeks flushed pink in the dim light that hangs over their table. He looks back at Dream. “No way.”

“It’s ‘Come on Eileen,’” Dream says, but Sapnap is resolute, crossing his arms and leaning back in his seat. They hold a short staring contest before Dream sighs, looking away. Sapnap doesn’t even have the chance to puff up at his W before Dream is reaching forward and taking him by the arm, pulling him out of his seat and to the dance floor.

“Dream!” Sapnap argues, trying to pull away, but Dream’s hold on him is lethal and Sapnap is unwillingly pulled into the circle that’s formed, one arm tugged behind Dream’s back by Dream’s free hand, and the other tossed over a girl’s shoulder. She gives him a bright smile before the circle begins to move, slowly, ever so slowly, then quicker.

It’s like a treadmill, Sapnap thinks, watching his feet and making sure not to step on the girl’s sparkly slippers. Her laugh is loud even with the music blasting and Sapnap starts to gain some of her enthusiasm as the chorus hits. And then a laugh comes from behind him, and he can’t help but look over his shoulder. 

Dream is already grinning at him. Sapnap couldn’t stop himself from grinning back even if he tried. The circle speeds up, and soon Dream is a constant cackle in his ear, Sapnap joining in as the group turns this way and that, before they all jump to a stop and kick a foot in the center.

Sapnap is awkward, slightly off-balance the way he holds on to Dream’s back and leans towards the girl, her shorter than him. He’s running out of breath quick too, kicking quicker and quicker before they’re spinning again and again, all smiling, all laughing, some singing, some panting, and Dream brings their heads closer together as they share one more laugh before the song is fading out, and then it’s just them alone, the others retreating back to their seats or to their own friend groups, just Dream and Sapnap breathing in each other’s exhales.

“That was fun,” Sapnap admits, and Dream nods, arm still around Sapnap’s shoulders, his other one eventually coming up to join it. Sapnap still has an arm around Dream, though it’s slipped so his hand rests at the small of Dream’s back. He swallows.

Dream notices his discomfort, and the smile falls from his face. “Sapnap,” he says.

Sapnap shakes his head. “It’s fine.” His fingers curl into the soft leather of Dream’s jacket. “They can misunderstand.”

I want them to misunderstand.

Sapnap looks up at the same time Dream lets go. “What?” he asks. Dream starts to take a step back, but Sapnap doesn’t let go. “No, you don’t get to—Dream, what did you say?”

“I—,” Dream’s eyes are wide, startled, scared, and Sapnap can’t help but think this isn’t fair. He stares Dream down, and eventually, Dream stares back. When he speaks, he can barely be heard over the music, even with the minimal distance between them. “I want them to misunderstand.”

It’s like he took the words straight from Sapnap’s brain, putting them out there for everyone to hear. Sapnap feels sick, and the feeling only grows when his head falls forward to rest on Dream’s chest. “What the fuck,” he says.

“Sorry,” Dream apologizes above him.

“What—no,” Sapnap’s face screws up, even though Dream can’t see, “you don’t get to apologize, dude. What the hell.” Sapnap feels a weight then on his back, hesitant then heavier. Dream’s hands. He closes his eyes. “What the hell,” he repeats.

“Let’s go back to our table,” Dream says. Sapnap nods, standing up straight, but Dream just pulls him into his side then, and Sapnap thinks about resisting, thinks about getting mad, maybe even leaving (but without a car, without Dream, where would he go?), but in the end, he just lets himself fall more into Dream, the other bearing his weight easily, leading them over to the table they had left.

When they sit, Dream stares down at his hands. Sapnap stares at him. “How long have you known?” he asks.

“About what?” Dream replies.

Sapnap shrugs.

Dream studies him for a second before looking back at his hands. “About myself, since maybe always. About you…?” He smiles then, bitter. “Maybe just as long.”

Sapnap sucks in a breath.

Dream looks over. “What about you?”

“I don’t know,” he answers. “I think—I think I didn’t want to know.”

Dream snorts derisively. “With your dad, I wouldn’t want to know either.”

That gets a laugh out of Sapnap, but it’s dry, empty. “Hey,” he defends his dad halfheartedly, “my dad isn’t that bad.”

The bitter smile on Dream’s lips twists into downright acidic.

Sapnap sighs. “I’m glad it’s you.”

Dream looks at him. Sapnap stares back.

“You’re my best friend,” he tells him. “I can tell you anything.”

“Me too,” Dream replies. “I’m glad it’s you too.” And then he frowns, looking out over the crowd. “But I’m sorry you had to find out this way.”

Sapnap is too, but he doesn’t tell the other that. Instead, he shrugs. “Could be worse,” he says. “I could hate you right now. But I don’t. I think I feel about you how you feel about me.” The last sentence is hard to get out, like bile in his throat. He hopes Dream doesn’t realize that.

When Dream smiles at him, then, he guesses he doesn’t. “I,” Dream looks back down at his hands, “like you, Sapnap.”

And that’s the truth, isn’t it? Dream likes Sapnap, and Sapnap likes Dream. Now Sapnap just needs to figure out what to do with that.

“I like you too,” he says, and Dream turns to him, eyes wide, as if they hadn’t established this already—maybe, for Dream, they hadn’t, “but I don’t know—I don’t know if this is good for us, Dream.”

“We’re best friends,” Dream starts to respond, but Sapnap cuts him off.

“Exactly.” He pulls his jacket tighter. “I don’t want to lose that.”

“We don’t have to,” Dream replies. “Why can’t we be both?”

“Why isn’t what we are already enough?” Sapnap argues. “I can’t afford to lose you, Dream. You’re my favorite person.”

“You wouldn’t lose me,” Dream denies. “You’re the one that was willing to cut me from your life for losing.”

“We were ten,” Sapnap scowls. “That’s not the same.”

Dream doesn’t reply. He knows it’s not.

The upbeat ABBA song playing does not match the mood that’s settled over their table. Sapnap drags his shoe along the floor. Dream drums his fingers against the table.

“Should we have not said anything then?” Dream asks. “Do we act like this never happened? Because I don’t know if I can do that.”

Sapnap doesn’t think he can either. Nonetheless, he shrugs.

Dream huffs. “Look,” he says, “you’re my best friend. I like you. If we stay friends, I’ll still like you. If we become more,” he swallows, squaring his shoulders, “and that doesn’t work, we’ll still be friends in the end. Okay?”

Sapnap doesn’t entirely believe him, but when he meets Dream’s gaze, Dream looks so determined, so resolute, that Sapnap finds himself echoing an okay. Then the clouds part, and Dream smiles. Sapnap tries to smile back.

The ABBA song ends and a much more recent pop song begins to play, but neither of them move, choosing instead to sit in a still silence that leaves Sapnap wondering what Dream is thinking.

Sapnap squeezes his eyes shut, shoving his curiosity aside to instead gaze out at the dance floor. The girl that was next to him in the circle bounces around three other teenagers, light-colored hair a kaleidoscope of colors in the everchanging club lights. When she spots Sapnap staring, she smiles, throwing up a peace sign. Sapnap gives her a small wave. Their eyes stay locked for another second before she makes a little motion towards Dream and Sapnap looks at him, only to find Dream already looking back. Sapnap sighs before rising from his chair.

“Your turn,” he says, hand already extended out towards the other.

Dream doesn’t hesitate in grabbing his hand and letting Sapnap pull him up.

Sapnap leads them to the dance floor, fully prepared to halfheartedly bop his head to the song playing, but then—and of course it’s just his luck—the minute he steps onto the wooden panels, the song changes to something mellow… and slow.

So very slow.

He turns to Dream, eyes wide in alarm, but all Dream does is smile.

“Don’t back out now,” he says.

Sapnap glares at him. “You wish.”

Dream laughs before putting a hand on Sapnap’s waist and an arm around his neck. Sapnap lets out a harsh breath but doesn’t pull away, just follows Dream’s lead, pulling him close. The emcee is saying something probably absolutely humiliating, but Sapnap ignores the queen (oh God, the emcee is a drag queen, how did he not realize that upon walking in?) in favor of focusing on Dream, on not stepping on his toes, on not bumping into other dancers, on not getting lost in the other’s eyes, however stereotypical it may be.

Dream lowers his head until their foreheads almost touch, and Sapnap is painfully reminded of 80s boy and Mythbusters hat. He looks down to the floor.

“Pandas,” Dream whispers, and Sapnap curses his heart for jumping.

“What?” he replies, still looking down.

“Look at me,” Dream urges.

Sapnap shakes his head, but then the arm around Sapnap’s neck becomes just a hand, and then that hand is traveling up, up over his neck, to his ear, fingers curling around his jaw, forcing Sapnap’s gaze from the floor.

“I’m sorry,” Dream says.

Sapnap finds himself stuck staring into Dream’s eyes. “Why?”

“You didn’t go to prom because I wouldn’t be there, and now we’re at a prom together, and you’re not having fun because I’m here.” His thumb strokes across Sapnap’s cheek—Sapnap hopes he can’t feel the heat under his skin. “So I’m sorry.”

“I’m having fun,” Sapnap replies, automatic.

“Because having me confess me to you and forcing you to dance with me and taking you to a fucking,” he breaks their gaze only to look around demonstratively, “gay prom is fun for you.”

But even with his reply being automatic, Sapnap finds it true. It’s not conventional, and he’s felt vaguely nauseous this entire time, but the dance circle was fun, and just standing here with Dream, swaying back and forth, it’s fun too. And there’s something nice about having everything out in the open. He and Dream like each other.

Wait.

He and Dream like each other. He and Dream like each other. Dream likes him.

“You like me,” Sapnap whispers.

Dream still hears him. “Yeah,” he replies, easy, “I like you a lot.”

“I think I missed that,” Sapnap says, louder. “You like me.”

Dream stares at him. “Yes,” he replies. “I like you.”

Sapnap stares back before he removes his hand from Dream’s waist to put it on his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of Dream’s t-shirt as Sapnap tugs him down into a kiss. Dream’s lips are surprisingly soft for the amount of times Sapnap has caught Dream biting at them, and Dream himself is surprisingly gentle when he brings his other hand up from Sapnap’s waist to cradle his jaw. Sapnap lets out a quiet exhale when they pull apart.

Dream is looking at him, but his gaze is distant, his mind somewhere far away.

Sapnap lets go of his shirt to shove him slightly. “Dream?” he asks, wondering if he might’ve just ruined everything, despite Dream’s insistence that a change in their relationship wouldn’t affect their friendship.

“I think people might misunderstand us now,” Dream says.

Sapnap can’t help it—he laughs. “You think?” And then Dream is laughing too, pulling him in for another kiss even as the song changes and the floor becomes crowded with everyone else coming to dance.

The tension now broken, neither of them suggest leaving the dance floor.

;;

By the time the prom is ending, Sapnap’s feet hurt, and he’s sure his lips are red from the amount of times Dream has kissed him. They’re both giddy with teenage excitement, and Dream is singing a pathetic rendition of “Bohemian Rhapsody,” words slurring together and pitch way off.

Sapnap laughs as Dream knocks their heads together, pushing him away with one hand while the other wraps around his waist to pull him closer. “You sound so bad.”

“You love it,” Dream murmurs into his ear, and Sapnap grins even as his cheeks flare red.

“You wish,” he replies.

“I most definitely wish,” Dream says, head now tilted to rest atop Sapnap’s own.

“Did you drink?” Sapnap asks, suspicious, though he’s pretty sure he and Dream only got water. “Are you drunk?”

“You know I’d never drink,” Dream replies before the most shit-eating grin takes over his face. “Actually, I’m just drunk on love.”

Sapnap rolls his eyes. “Now you’re just acting stupid.”

“But I mean it.”

Sapnap looks at him. Dream looks back. Sapnap shakes his head as they reach Dream’s car. “Don’t be dumb.”

“Okay, so maybe not like… love love, but I love you, Sapnap.” Dream leans against the door. “And it could turn into love love one day. If you let it.”

Sapnap stares at him. Dream stares back.

“It’s just a possibility,” he says, hand coming up to pat Sapnap’s cheek. Sapnap continues to stare until Dream leans forward to bump their noses together. “I won’t bring it up again.”

“Next month,” Sapnap finally replies. “Bring it up next month.” He pushes himself away from Dream to go to the passenger side. “Now unlock the car. It’s hot as fuck out here.”

;;

The car ride is spent in an easy silence, though Dream keeps glancing over at Sapnap every once in a while, always looking on the verge of saying something.

Finally, Sapnap snaps. “What is it?”

Dream has clearly been waiting to be asked. “You said next month.”

Sapnap frowns. “Uh, yeah? Why wouldn’t I?”

“So we’ll still be together next month?”

Sapnap’s eyes narrow. “Are you assuming we’re together now?”

“Yes.”

Fuck. He’s right to assume that. So much for Dream being the one to forget their friendship in order to pursue a relationship. Dream knows him too well. (It’s perfect.)

“I love you too,” Sapnap says. “As a friend.” He looks out the window. “But it could be love love one day too.”

He doesn’t need to look over to know Dream is grinning, and when a finger brushes his own over the glovebox, not asking for permission but not not asking for permission, Sapnap can’t stop a grin of his own from spreading across his face and lets Dream lock their hands together.

;;

A knock on the door startles Sapnap in the middle of his studying. He looks up from his notes to see Dream leaning in the open doorway.

Sapnap raises a brow. “Since when have you knocked?”

“Since British exchange students started chewing me out whenever I’d come in without knocking.” Dream smiles at him before looking into the room, green eyes searching.

“George isn’t going to jump out at you from behind the door,” Sapnap says, stretching out in his chair before rising to properly greet his boyfriend. “Besides, he likes you; he’s just a bitch.”

“Of course a bitch like you would say that,” George interrupts, his small frame almost invisible behind Dream, who turns around with a guilty look on his face. “Hi, Dream,” George says, shoving past him to toss his bag in his desk chair and collapse onto his bed. “I don’t like you, by the way.” He lifts his head slightly to look between Dream and Sapnap. “Either of you. I hate you guys.”

“We hate you too,” Sapnap replies cheerily before grinning at Dream and pulling him down into a kiss that Dream eagerly returns.

“Can you not?” George asks, even though they all know he doesn’t really care. “I already feel single enough, thanks.”

“Like you could ever feel single,” Dream teases. “You know nearly everyone here is into you.”

George pushes himself up onto his elbows to stick out his tongue. Dream sticks his own out too.

Sapnap laughs before picking his keys up from off his desk and checking that his wallet is in his pocket. “We’re heading out,” he tells George, who hums and nods, flopping back onto the bed. “Let me know if you want us to pick you up dinner.”

“That’s so sweet of you, Sapnap,” George says, “to go out of your way just to get dinner for me. I didn’t realize I mean that much to you.”

“You mean the world to me, George,” Sapnap replies, even as his hand links with Dream’s and George flips him off. “But seriously, we’ll get you something if you want.”

“It’s fine.” George waves a hand. “Go be in love or whatever. Better somewhere else than where I can see it.”

“True, true,” Sapnap says, even though his favorite hobby nowadays is antagonize George, which sits right under spend time with Dream. 

They leave the Brit alone to head out to Dream’s car, and it’s there that Sapnap finds them imitating the pose they had the night of prom. He hides his smile in Dream’s neck as Dream wraps his arms around his shoulders.

“Hey, Sap,” Dream says.

“Yeah?”

“Remember how you said ‘next month’?”

Sapnap lifts his head slightly to look through the car window. “Yeah.”

“Well, it’s been next month, and then it was the month after that, and the one after that, and then there was—”

Sapnap barely stops himself from rolling his eyes. “I love you, Dream. Now let go of me; I really am hungry right now.”

“Right, of course. Of course,” Dream releases him, “but for the record, I love you too. Like, love love.”

Sapnap shoves him even as a smile begins to show at the corners of his lips. “Yeah, I love love you too.”

[mego42]

Shamelessly stealing @foxmagpie​’s monthly rec thing without the ability to get my life together to do these on a monthly basis so, seasonal recs! So excited to see if I manage to do this again with anything remotely resembling consistency but i’ve been keeping the notes for approximately 43 years (or since ~september, whatever that means) so by god i’m gonna use them. 

found my thrill - s_t_c_s / @sothischickshe​

Turner POV!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

guys turner is SO OBSESSED with Beth and Rio

both canonically and in this fic

it’s gr9

also features a weirdly soothing and relatable cord untangling moment as a metaphor

truly disturbingly relatable turner pov tbh

relentless boomer disdain, always a plus

led to the creation of this monstrosity, not sure what kind of a monster would do that

War In My Mind - mintletters16

Backread!!!!

post-213, gorgeous character study 

guaranteed to make you feEl stUfF

I really love the like, cyclical, fractured pattern of Beth’s internal monologue, it gives the whole thing a really affecting at times dreamy, at times haunted vibe

the end twist is *chef’s kiss*

mourning bells - Ejunkiet / @ejunkiet​

Backread!!!!

Later s2 era, Rio’s at a funeral, gets drunk and calls Beth

V short, kind of…..mmm, not sweet, but almost? Idk

It’s got a wistful sort of almost/i can be quiet with you vibe that i go extremely bonkers for

delinquents - foxmagpie / @foxmagpie​

Lol are any of you actually not reading this yet?

g o d ch 8 where do i start

First off how ABSOLUTELY VERY DARE for the tragic angst that is delinquents!beth boland. This poor baby, this precious bean. MUST PROTEC

SHE’S TRYING HER BEST AND I LOVE HER

zero percent deserves dean’s clammy hands, no i have not forgotten, tattooed on my brain, will never forgive

I also love love love love LOVE the ruby/stan subplot happening

(and ruby’s mom!!!!!) (seriously though you write the best moms)

oh god and baby beth starting to have confusing feelings about rio?????? *chef’s kiss*

p sure i was just like, straight screaming the entire end of the chapter

the dugout is like, pure serotonin

I can’t even talk about the closet

tHe teNsiOn

thank you i will take eleventy billion

don't give it a hand, offer it a soul - medievalraven / @medievalraven

am a desperate heaux for any fic that features rio and mick friendship

you are all incredibly shocked i know

still would not be mad if this swerved into rio x mick fake dating but beth x rio is cool too i guess

Speaking of things i am a desperate heaux for: DIANE!!!!!!!!

and DATING ANNIE???????????? Blessed

honestly this fic is worth it purely for the assertion that mick watches queer eye

Why don't we go to Venus? - watermelonriddles / @bensonstablers​

another grief study! 

apparently i was working through some stuff in september, idk, that was like 4 years ago

considering it’s the premise of the fic, i don’t think it’s a spoiler to say this fic is canon divergent and working with the premise that rio killed beth in 302

he is uh, not coping well

extremely haunted you might say

lots of marcus and rhea which is a delight!

rhea is to good for him tbh

i said what i said

truly top notch dream (nightmare?) sequences

the conversation at the end is extremely uncalled for

drop the game - Ejunkiet / @ejunkiet​

Backread!!!!

Am going to die mad Beth and Rio didn’t hook up in 211 but luckily this fic scratched the itch 

(temporarily, it’s a fairly permanent itch)

Bonus rec: missing scene series i wanna do bad things to you featuring 2x02 and 2x04

Viva Voce - zetuslapetus / @querenaxx​

Whoops we woke up married Vegas shenanigans!! 

So cute!!!!! So sexy!!!!! 

What more do you want?

am desperately obsessed with how beth can’t help stalking rio

feels right, feels organic

this makes me feel a lot of stuff about how they could be without their canon garbage between them

🎶 we could’ve had it aaaaaaaaaaall 🎶

you showed me colors (i can't see them with anyone else) - gild_fire / @gild-and-fire​

really into the use of color to illustrate beth’s emotional state, i feel like there’s a word for that but idk what it is

UNIMPORTANT

really nice job capturing beth’s inner vulnerability balanced by her outer stubbornness

am DESPERATELY into Mick playing matchmaker

more please???????

Both Sides of the Law - JoeyLee / @joeyjoeylee​

LAW SCHOOL AU! I suuuuuuper love Beth and Rio here (alt pov!! a gift!!!!) I love how initially prickly they are, I love how it’s evolving into a grudging respect, I love how INCREDIBLY AND HILARIOUSLY OBSESSED WITH EACH OTHER THEY ARE and neither one of them seems to see it

listen I know we’re all already foaming at the mouth over this one but as it’s gonna go down as one of my all time favorites it bears repeating/rereccing

cannot stress enough how masterful the use of POV is here, both voices feel completely true and distinct and I love how the alternating chapters revisit, reveal and emphasize pieces of each other

i can’t talk about this fic without hyperventilating

I LOVE IT SO MUCH YOU GUYS

the slow burn is going to ACTUALLY KILL ME

rip, no regrats

Earned It - wakeupflawless / @wakeupflawless​

spanking

that’s it that’s the pitch

H O T

living for beth’s exit in the first chapter, rio and i are both incredibly into it

second chapter also features violently possessive Rio who cannot deal with anyone messing with his girl so if that’s your thing boy howdy get on it

shake, baby, shake - openhearts

backread!!!!!

according to my bookmarks this was a reread but ???????

must’ve read it in the fugue state that followed reading for a moment we were strangers which is gr9 and I believe I have recced it before. If not, horrible oversight, reccing it now

beth and Rio POV lead up to the bathroom break, beautifully done, low-key feel bad reccing it bc the end point of both chapters makes me want to throw things but it’s super worth it for the tEnsiOn. ENJOY

What the Sea Wants, the Sea Will Have - flashindie / @pynkhues​

I’m assuming all of y’all are already reading this

If not OH MY GOD FIX YOUR LIVES

P I R A T E  A U

I’m sorry maybe you didn’t hear me piRaTE aU

meticulously researched, brain-meltingly vibrant, already painfully sexy slow-burning PIRATE AU

god where to start okay so first off, the world-building here straight up breaks my brain, sophie’s put in the work and it SHOWS

second, the atmosphere. i’m generally a pretty like, vague mental picture sort of reader but the sensory detail here grabs you by the throat and like, forcibly hauls you in whether your brain’s wired that way or no

and hey speaking of throats if you, like me, go a little funny about the knees at the idea of beth holding a knife to rio’s throat (he’s fine, calm down), there’s a v excellent beth-in-a-barrel moment for you

oh christ and the sexy tension

it’s gonna be a race to see which slow burn takes me out first, this or law school

Stunner - foxmagpie / @foxmagpie​

Another high school AU, this time with baby Rio absolutely head over heels for his older sister’s bff

stunner!Rio has an emotional earnestness about him that I feel like delinquents!Rio has already outgrown and it’s so SWEET I can’t get enough

Desperately cute!!!!!!

alL he waNts iS foR beTh tO bE hiS girL

also unreasonably angsty???????

ANN ARBOR IS NOT THAT FAR MEGAN

A Heart's A Heavy Burden - tooshyforthis / @bathroombreaks​

Howl’s Moving Castle AU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I love Howl’s!!!!!!!!!!!

perfect opp to roast Rio for being a Dramatique Heaux 

and it’s gonna be 9 chapters?????? H Y P E

author’s note boldly presumes I did not know I needed this AU when the reality is I did in fact know I needed this AU, I just wasn’t expecting anyone to deliver

so blessed

author also claims to not be team nose stud and yet it features prominently in all its magnificent glory

what is the truth dot gif

A Bit of a Stretch - septiembre / @septiembur​

SO????? CUTE?????????

would be on this list for Rio calling Beth E alone tbh

really really really really really love this Rio POV of being settled into a relationship with Beth

It manages to be sweetly domestic af while still holding the edge that makes brio brio which is a neat trick

@septiembur may be a witch

beth’s approach to getting rio to do yoga with her is hilarious and exactly right, canon-typical amounts of subtlety 

1000000/10

Post Break-Up Sex - femalegothic / @bethsuglywigs​

stg this was called Hit Shuffle

no matter

h O T

with a side of damn i’ve made some questionable choices in my life haven’t i introspection

(no regrats tho)

(esp not with this fic)

not the point of the fic by a long shot but i’m also extremely obsessed with Weed Eddie, so real

She drains my soul... she drains it not - niham87 / @niham87​

ABSOLUTELY OBSESSED WITH THIS CONCEPT

am a complete sucker for paranormal world building that satirizes bureaucracy 

Is that a trope? If so that’s my favorite

I did it. I’m picking a single favorite. You know what that is growth dot gif

ANYWAY i love the concept, i love the humor, i love beth instantly clicking with annie

I love her and mick’s sort of grudging professional courtesy

Love beth as a champion of environmental responsibility and all of the underworld being like …...okay??

cannot wait to see where this goes

Nine-Tenths - riosnecktattoo / @riosnecktattoo​

*INCOHERENT PTERODACTYL SCREECHING*

sometimes i think about rio putting beth’s hair in a ponytail and have to go lie down

science please explain why this rUinS mE

wait hold on i skipped ahead

HEY KIDS DO YOU LIKE UNBEARABLY CUTE DOMESTIC TENDERNESS

opens with rio sleepily holding beth’s hand to his heart so that’s the kind of thing you’ll be dealing with

uGH theY’RE sO CUTe

idk why precisely but rio adding hair ties to his bracelet collection is my undoing every time

Missed Call - foxmagpie / @foxmagpie​

Rio doesn’t come home from a job when he’s supposed to. Beth (and I!!!!!!!) slowly loses her mind

Truly a masterpiece of rising tension

Will literally never forgive her for calling this light angst

I was SO STRESSED OUT

The first person to point out there was an author’s note at the beginning I obvs didn’t read is getting blocked

crush - foxmagpie / @foxmagpie​

Listen even though this is centered around two OCs, they are OCs FROM a (n iconic) brio fic AND Beth, Ruby and Rio all make cameos (I mean, Rio’s pretty present since he lives in Mar’s mind rent free bc they are THE SWEETEST MOST ADORABLE BEST OF FRIENDS so idk if i’d call it a cameo but whatever)

and even if it didn’t feature any official GG characters I’d still rec is bc that’s mY SON AND this fic is TOO CUTE

I have so many feelings over mar and rio growing up and not knowing how to cope with girls becoming a Thing in their life and how it affects their friendship and mar feeling left behind but (SPOILERS) at the end of the story rio starts feeling that too and it’s so poignant knowing how that’s going to continue in delinquents

while mar may be my son, i also claim elena’s #1 stan status

before you’re like meg you’re only reccing it bc it’s a bday present ask yourselves do i really strike you as the kind of person that wouldn’t be equally obnoxious about this either way?

truly cannot fathom how hard i have fallen for these OCs i don’t normally do that

@foxmagpie is definitely a witch

The Ottoman - Niham87 / @niham87​

look i will be the first to admit that i don’t go near as bonkers over the ottoman line in 308 as y’all do

(don’t get me wrong, i love it!!! I love that he laughs and i love that she’s pleased it just doesn’t hit my lose my whole mind button like idk, the dubby or the 306 convo, idk why)

BUT i v v v much love the context this delightful Rio POV pwp gives it

am also absolutely feral for 209 missing scene fic

and anything that captures the complexity of Rio’s s3 feelings for Beth and how twisted they’ve become

so this scratches a bunch of itches, is what i’m trying to say

Bet On It - zetuslapetus / @querenaxx​

*INCOHERENT PTERODACTYL SCREECHING*

That’s what my brain does when I think about Beth and Rio meeting in ch 1

am DESPERATELY OBSESSED WITH the tension between the two of them in this fic

I love how it plays with the ways they have to rely on but don’t trust each other

plus FAKE DATING and BED SHARING (fair warning hasn’t happened yet but the set up is there)

originally supposed to be 2 chapters, already up to 4, prayer circle it goes on forever

do you like drugs (tonight) - s_t_c_s / @sothischickshe​

v important focus on hydration, other fic should take note

extremely about the use of cut to and then flashback to enhance the ‘we were on drugs’ vibe

speaking of, beth and rio absolutely would take ecstasy to prove they are fun bc they are the exact kind of idiots that would peer pressure themselves

so glad beth kept her purse, got a bit stressed there for a second, clutches in that kind of circumstance are A Risk

not that i would know

FLAWLESS USE OF VOICEMAIL TBH

really love the ongoing denial that they are remotely into each other while proceeding to demonstrate how they are in fact, extremely into each other, great vibe

rio dances

I know my brain broke too

mmmm bacon

Navigate A Broken Path - flashindie / @pynkhues​

*INCOHERENT PTERODACTYL SCREECHING*

I have a long standing tradition of getting unreasonably obsessed with side characters so i’m not like, entirely surprised by how obsessed i am with both Mick and Mary Pat but i never in a million years considered them as a ship

AND Y E T

they fit????? so perfectly?????? It’s amazing how she developes them individually enough that i look at them together and think ah yes this makes perfect sense for both characters

and they’re such an amazing foil to Beth and Rio? 

can ships have foils? do i know what a foil is? 

unimportant

GUYS you dON’T uNDERStAN d 

hell i don’t understand

how absolutely very dare you make me care about YET ANOTHER set of gg ‘verse children

do not read this fic if you have no interest in feelings you zero percent asked for

wHA t hAPPeNED iN aLASkA?????????

A Moment’s Silence - femalegothic / @bethsuglywigs​

*makes sign of the cross*

y’all are gonna make me rediscover religion

extremely appreciate the author’s note approach to backstory top notch prioritization

listen it’s basically 3k of beth deep throating rio idk what more you need me to say about it

it is…..good stuff

bless the kinkmeme or fest whatever we’re calling it

praise - civillove / @blainesebastian​

I mean you had me at “three times rio calls beth a good girl and one time he really means it”

ephemeral rio

I left that note for myself in here in the middle of the night and haven’t the foggiest what i was thinking but i stand by it none the less

okay okay i think i know what i meant, this fic (as do all of my fav civillove brio fics) has this sort of like, liminal, in the quiet moments feel to them that makes the moments and feelings somehow feel like i’m catching a glimpse of something secret and precious???

idk i just really like it okay

Heart and Soul - riosnecktattoo / @riosnecktattoo​

oh look more unbearably sweet domestic tenderness, this time to music

thank you ma’am for my life

rio remembers beth used to play piano and gets her one and revoltingly cute shenanigans result

also hilarity

and sexiness

this fic has it all, truly

shout out to mick who sees no reason to keep rio’s feelings to himself

good girls tumblr fic - prettylittlementirosa / @hypermania​​

cheating and reccing a whole series

It’s my list and i can do what i wanna

stop crying about it, it’s four fics and they’re all AMAZING absolutely impossible to pick a fav

truly flawless characterization, next level ability to capture evocative mood, cannot get enough

three’s a crowd: who knew ballroom dancing while dean watches and grinds his teeth could be so sexy 

(trick question everything about that premise sounds A++++ and boy howdy does it live up)

feel it on the way home: rio tries to break up with beth, it goes about as well as you’d expect

(thE angSty tenSioN)

i want to play the game: [from the floor] i’m still not ready to talk about it

(rio/turner, missing scene, 10000000% a taste of what went down in that hotel room)

june after dark: pitch perfect annie pov, really really love the take that Annie is the baby whisperer, can’t fully explain why but it feels incredibly right

(ANNIE X NANCY COULD WORK SO WELL YOU GUYS)

[maxbegone]

IT’S FINALLY HERE!

In an effort to spread some love to the fanfic authors in the Schitt’s Creek community, this post is a compiling of some of our favorite fics! Thank you to every single person who decided to participate in this dedication of love! And to the fanfic authors out there - thank you for being so wonderful and sharing your stories with us! Here’s to many more countless hours of reading - day or night! 

There are repeats! I understand that may seem a little redundant, but I wanted everyone who participated to share their favorite fics regardless of repetition, author, pairing, AU, size, etcetera. 

A very special thanks to everyone who participated! 

@bestwisheswarmestregards // @brighter-than-sunshine  // @danieljradcliffe @darnitdraco  // @imargaery  // @justwaiting23  // @leopxld-fitz // @lickrustdavid // @loveburnsbrighter // @oceanavinfinity @poorguysheadcanon​ // @ratchet // @roguebabyinyourstore @stuck-on-your-heart // @thisbuildinghasfeelings​ // @vulcantastic​ @wlwbaudelaire​

I’m going to go ahead and put everything under the cut, because this should be quite a long post! 

**If there are authors on tumblr whose handles were not properly added, please send me a message!

@bestwisheswarmestregards​

Fic 1: Ace Of Hearts by loveisallyouneed21

Why I like it: It is just really sweet and made me really happy. Plus I like seeing Patrick as an asexual being one myself. I don’t see a lot of ace characters in the media so seeing someone portray Patrick, a character I love, as one makes me really happy. 

Fic 2: An Unexpected Arrival by @justwaiting23​ 

Why I like it: It was one of the first fics I read in this fandom and I fell in love with it. Plus the Brewers are in it and I love anything with the Brewers. 

Fic 3: Hammock by @maxbegone​ 

Why I like it: This fic makes me so fluffy inside. Early morning and snuggles are one of the best combinations. 

@brighter-than-sunshine​

Fic 1: Your Wings Prepare To Fly by @icmezzo 

Why I like it: I’m not the biggest fans of AUs/ Fantasy takes on fics, but the characterization of David and Patrick is so good here. It’s such a beautifully written fic, and I just couldn’t get enough of it when I first read it! A definite reread.

Fic 2: Today and All the Days that Follow by @unfolded73​

Why I like it: This one is one of my all-time favorites, because it explores so many of the relationships between all the characters… I especially love the bits including Stevie and Alexis. 

Fic 3: Little Reminders of our Love by @justwaiting23​

Why I like it: The whole idea of David and Patrick leaving each other notes was too adorable not to recommend this fic!

@danieljradcliffe​

Fic 1: Watching Through Windows by @helvetica-upstart​

Why I like it: Some fandoms have those fics that just inevitably change the game and define what fanfiction can be and for me, this is that fic for Schitt's Creek. It is a staple that everyone's read and continues to talk about and recommend a year after it was published; I'm sure we will continue to talk about it for years to come and to recommend it as new folks come into the fandom.

Fic 2: Until Now Gives Way to Then by swat117 

Why I like it: I just read this one-shot recently thanks to your (feel free to edit this how you need for your post) recommendation of their other fic, 'Exposed Brick.' This is a fic that (for me) completely captures why David and Patrick fit and work so well together and how their pasts have made it possible for them to be who they are as a couple in SC. I haven't read another fic that resonated with my own interpretation and appreciation of their relationship as much as this one. This author truly and completely sees them for all that they are.

Fic 3:  Red White and Blue Jays by @grapehyasynth​  

Why I like it: I saw this fic published earlier this year and wanted to read it so badly but figured I should read the source material (Red, White, & Royal Blue) first so I did and absolutely fell in love with that book (who wouldn't?). I attribute this fic for inspiring me to read Casey McQuiston's book and so when I went to finally read it, I had extremely high expectations and even still, this fic exceeded them. The author does an amazing job of incorporating aspects of the original book (RWRB) while keeping the story true to the characters and relationships we know and love in Schitt's Creek. I read the entire fic in one sitting and then instantly, read it again. It is laugh out loud funny while being romantic as hell and keeps David and Patrick incredibly in-character throughout.

@darnitdraco​

Fic 1: Red White And Blue Jays by @grapehyasynth​

Why I like it: this fic is the reason I bought Red White and Royal Blue. Going into the fic, I didn’t know what the book was about so it was all new to me but it was great nevertheless. Now that im almost finished with the book, I love this fic even more. I know its an AU but I think the characters are written well and I pretty much love any fic when Rachel isn’t made out to be the bad guy. Its 13 chapters and I will 100% be rereading it after I finish the book. 

Fic 2: Nothing Burns Like The Cold by @wildxwired​

Why I like it: This is a one shot and definitely Patrick Centric. I thrive on Angst and Hurt/Comfort. I personally feel like it is Patrick coming to terms with a things he didn’t have control over and him getting closure on things of the past. I don’t want to give away too much of the plot but please read this guys!! 

Fic 3: sometimes good things fall apart by @blueink3 

Why I like it: I have reread this multiple times and it gets better each time. Its only 4 chapters but it isn’t rushed. As I said above, I THRIVE on angst and hurt/comfort. This has both, AND protective Patrick. It is a spin on what could’ve happened after the barbecue and it has a happy ending so don’t worry.

@imargaery​

Fic 1: Dodgeball is f*cking stupid by alldaydream

Why I like it: This is a one-chapter piece that comes in just under 6k and yet the author manages to build a super rich AU experience and tell a complete story that is at once heart-wrenching, sweet, sexy, and thematic. If you want angst that doesn’t last too long, that leaves you feeling warm and fuzzy, this is the one-shot for you. I go back to it as much as I go back to some of my favorite D&P scenes from the show.

Fic 2: if not for you by goingmywaydoll

Why I like it: When it comes to fanfiction about our boys, there’s almost nothing I love more than a high school AU. This is that. But it’s also a ROAD TRIP. What better scenario is there for a slow burn, mutual pining, dialogue heavy love story with plenty of bed sharing and nobody bothering them?

Fic 3: Beneath the Winter Snow by Distractivate

Why I like it: Can you tell I love a good AU? This one’s about the Olympics and it imagines a world in which Patrick and David have already fallen in love, had a relationship, and have broken up. This is a story about them finding their way back to each other--which isn’t hard because they have to be around each other all the time and work through their issues. It’s written with grace and thoughtfulness, and walking with Patrick and David as they learn to communicate with one another and work on healing makes the reunion that much more satisfying.

@justwaiting23​

Fic 1: hit me with your best shot by @ignisgayentia​

Why I like it: This is a bit of a random one but it has stuck with me ever since I read it. It’s a short little AU about David and Patrick meeting at a baseball game where Patrick is one of the players. It’s really sweet and does such a great job of keeping the voices in character, especially with the flirty teasing and awkwardness and is one of those fics I go back to over and over again.

Fic 2: Spills & Thrills by storieswelove

Why I like it: This is one in a series of ‘Meet-Uglies’ that the author has written which I adore but it’s my favourite one out of them. It has the perfect mix of awkward interactions which make you cringe and also really sweet and fond moments between the two of them.

Fic 3: You Can Plan on Me by odofidi

Why I like it: This is a sweet little piece of marital fluff about the first Christmas after the wedding. It fits exactly with my idea about what married life would be like for them and is really sweet, plus I always love it when the Brewers are able to see Patrick so genuinely in love with someone like that so it’s definitely one of my very favourites.

@leopxld-fitz​

Fic 1: best wishes, warmest regards (sent with confetti effect) by reymonova (costiellie)

Why I like it: This fic is just pure fun. The character voices are always perfect, and it’s such a nice addition to the series. This story is full of incredible one-liners and I think about “th*nk y*u” at least once a week. A must-read for anyone who loves a good Stevie-David friendship moment. 

Fic 2: Going Down by @concannonfodder​

Why I like it: This is a perfect AU. Rich David? Check. New York? Check. Patrick’s gay awakening? Check, check, check. This fic feels as real and in-character as any canon events of the show, and the author does an incredible job at lining up a love story for the ages all over again under completely different pretenses. Plus, who doesn’t love a “stuck in an elevator” trope? I would watch 10 movies based off of this.

Fic 3: I’ve Never Liked A Smile As Much As I Like Yours by hagface

Why you like it: I live for college AU’s, and this one doesn’t disappoint. I love how the author repositioned characters and events for a new setting, and David as a picky art major is all I ever could have hoped for. Character interactions are pitch perfect and there’s a true “paint me like one of your french girls” pining moment that was truly glorious. A great read!!

@lickrustdavid​

Fic 1: Tonight I’ll Drift in A Dream With You by torakowalski 

Why I like it: It’s rare to find such a well-written fic with a great family dynamic that makes you feel like you’re almost just reading a script for the actual show instead of an idea. There’s something soft and comforting about reading cohabitation with Alexis and David and Patrick doing there own things on separate sides of the motel room. 

Fic 2: A Week with the Brewers by @justwaiting23​ 

Why I like it: The dynamic with David and the Brewer’s is genuinely authentic and it’s made me flash back to some of my own experiences with partners parents. The fact that Patrick’s totally willing to have sex while his parents are there while David is mortified at the idea is also great and realistic. I feel like this fic also shows how partners grow and learn to communicate with one another and trust them. 

Fic 3: Welcome to Cabaret by @vivianblakesunrisebay​

Why you like it: The concept of David being more included in the whole Cabaret experience was something I definitely appreciated, since during the show I was kind of bummed with the lack of him. Stevie is wonderfully written in my opinion, and I really liked Patrick going on dates with the choreographer and watching David figure out how to cope. 

@loveburnsbrighter​

Fic 1: Small Projects by GCLane

Why I like it: My ultimate comfort fic.  Soft relationship feels and loving, passionate discussion of fiber arts, plus nuanced discussion of coming out and fitting in and what it means to be queer.  Also David trying new things and doing his best, which is also fun (he learns to knit!)

Fic 2: You and Me and This Temptation by @leupagus​

Why I like it: Another comfort fic!  Musician Patrick/manager David.  It's funny asf and super sweet at the same time.  Plus it does justice by Rachel, and made me totally love her.  Also, I was never sold on AUs of any kind and this is the fic that converted me.  I re-read it when I need cheering up and it never fails.

Fic 3: The Moment I Touched Down by rockinhamburger

Why you like it: Patrick learning about David's past and being the sweetest most sympathetic bean :(. This one is full of tragic backstory and good emotional hurt/comfort.  Super cathartic to read, and it makes me want to wrap David and Patrick both in big hugs and protect them from the world.

@maxbegone​

Fic 1: my heart was broke, my head was sore by @blueink3

Why I like it: This was the first fic I read since coming into the fandom. It’s canon-divergent, which, as it turns out, I kind of love. It’s so beautifully-written; a story about David meeting the Brewers much sooner than he anticipated, under unforeseen circumstances that take Patrick back to his hometown - and David is right along with him. And just like in every universe, Marcy Brewer is an angel.

Fic 2: Cleanser by @cypress-tree​

Why I like it: Hello and welcome to my comfort fic! This is just the most soothing story. It’s my wind-down fic, and every single time I read it, it makes me want to do my own in-depth skincare routine (that I already do morning and night). But it’s not just about that - it’s about Patrick taking a look at his identity as well. It’s all so tender and sweet, and so intimate in its own lovely way. David pampers Patrick a little bit and shows him that “femininity” and “masculinity” do not have rigid divides. And the first time I read this, I was wearing a mask from LUSH.

Fic 3: keep my spirit strong, you do by fishypots

Why you like it: Content warning; eating disorders, food issues. This hit me square in the chest. It resonated with me in a way I knew it would but struck so much more within me. By the end of it, I was smiling because of how represented I felt. I know this is a difficult topic for some, but I needed to share this fic. As someone with dysmorphia and struggles with disordered eating, it was such a comfort to read about David, who is a character so vulnerable and his partner who doesn’t pester him with questions. Instead he listens, he does a little research (it’s Patrick, of course he does), and remains by him. It’s all written so realistically and tenderly, and without any jabs or awkward nods toward body image. This will forever be at the top of my list.

@oceanavinfinity​

Fic 1: I Carry These Heart-Shapes Only to You by ladyflowdi, ships_to_sail

Why I like it: It is a work-in-progress au set in Paris during WWII. Patrick is a soldier on leave, and David is a gallerist who sailed to France to help Alexis (as usual). The characters are so, so true to canon, and the world building of Paris in that era will whisk you away from your current place. I love it.

@poorguysheadcanon​

Fic 1: bright lights by falconeggs (series)

Why I like it: my favorite schitts creek fic is definitely the series “bright lights” on ao3!

@ratchet​

Fic 1: In the Temple of Artemis by MoreHuman 

Why I like it: This story has Stevie exploring (with some help) the identifier of Aromantic after navigating what she thought were her romantic feelings for David. Really sensitively written, with a scene that almost perfectly puts into words my feelings about David & Stevie’s soulmate-esque relationship.

Fic 2: David Rose, Your Husband Is At Guest Services by @patricksdavid​ 

Why I like it: Husbands! At Costco! Giant muffins and comically large bags of doritos! 2071 words of pure domestic fluff! What more could you ask for?!

Fic 3: Fifteen Hundred Miles by MoreHuman 

Why I like it: Okay so. This is very new as part of the Reel Fic Fest, but I needed to include it. I love Wild, both the book & movie, and I am very much a “deal with my problems by hiking/biking in the forest” so this spoke to me immediately. Patrick and David meet as strangers hiking 1500 miles of the Pacific Crest Trail. There’s nature, pining in nature, tent shenanigans, tent emergencies! Stevie being an excellent friend from afar, a cribbage board, journaling, secret trail register entries, David in flannel, and an ever-present toque. It’s just a really satisfying and calming 30k words with literally 2 characters. I read it twice in 12 hours.

@roguebabyinyourstore​

Fic 1: Fifteen Hundred Miles by MoreHuman 

Why I like it:​ I like a good AU as much as the next person, but this one is just STUNNING. The descriptions of the pain and struggle endured by both men, both physical and emotional, was vibrantly visceral. David and Patrick’s relationship bloomed organically and you are hooked on their journey through the wilderness as they grow closer and eventually fall in love. Plus it’s Patrick’s POV. What’s not to love?

Fic 2: Getting Over Getting Older All The Time by Distractivate  

Why I like it:​ You’ve heard of slow burn? Well meet glacial burn. This masterpiece takes us through 10 years of friendship, of missed opportunities, of pining and heartbreak. But most importantly it shows what we all knew - David and Patrick will find their way to each other regardless of time and distance. Also Patrick’s POV, I sort of love Patrick Brewer.

Fic 3: You Could Be The One by bigficenergy 

Why I like it: ​I have a soft spot for early relationship David and Patrick. But almost no fic does it quite like this. This fic highlights points from our boys’ developing relationship scored by the incomparable Carly Rae Jepsen. This fic is so true to the characters, their voices and their story, that it’s all one giant headcanon for me. This fic is part 1 of a larger series and I highly recommend all of them.

@stuck-on-your-heart​

Fic 1: a kiss from a rose by mihaly ( @davidroseshusband​ )

Why I like it: This was the first multi-chapter fic I read when I joined the sc fandom, and I hadn’t read fic of any kind in over a year. It’s a brilliant story where Alexis stars in a reality-dating show. All the characters are portrayed so perfectly in this fic, and you can hear their voices in every piece of dialogue. It’s sweet, it’s hot, it’s everything you could want in an AU. This story helped me fall in love with fic again so it has a very special place in my heart. 

Fic 2: Rose’s Eleven by leupagus

Why I love it: This story honestly feels like a movie. I know the concept is based on a film franchise, but the writing in this fic is truly exquisite. It’s so complex and gripping, and there’s a heist which is always a good time. Despite the very different world these characters are in, they are still true to themselves, so it’s very exciting to see how they interact with one another in this universe. This is such a fun read from start to finish and just thinking about it makes me want to go back and read it again.

Fic 3: Simply the Vest by orphan_account

Why I love it: If you couldn’t tell, I’m obsessed with AUs. This fic is such a satisfying AU because it incorporates several tropes that we all know and love. In this story, Patrick is an FBI agent, and he has to go undercover as David’s boyfriend. So right off the bat there’s fake dating! And then it has pining because our boys are dumb! AND THEN it has a little smut if that’s your cup of tea. And while all this is happening, Patrick is being capable and looks very dashing in his FBI vest.

@thisbuildinghasfeelings​

Fic 1: Happy to help by @vivianblakesunrisebay​

Why I like it: This was the first Schitt’s Creek fic I fell in love with when I started exploring what was out there after bingeing the show for the first time. It’s basically a deep dive into Patrick’s POV from Motel Review through Grad Night. It really helped me appreciate Patrick as a character when I was fairly new to the show. I think I formed a lot of head canon regarding Patrick’s life and backstory based on the things I enjoyed in this fic. And it’s just incredibly well written.

Fic 2: turn down the lights, turn down the bed by @hudders-and-hiddles​ ( @wild-aloof-rebel​ )

Why I like it: I love this take on David and Patrick remaining just business partners until Rock On. I can be a bit of a canon purist, so I’m really picky when it comes to AU fic. However, there are actually quite a few I enjoy in this fandom. My favorite thing about this one is that it has the exact right amount of angst, to the point where it’s almost physically painful, but in the best possible way. Especially because you know how it’s going to end. This is angst with a happy ending executed perfectly. And it’s so good that it holds up to multiple rereads.

Fic 3: my heart was broke, my head was sore by blueink3

Why I like it: Another canon divergent AU that I love. This one diverges from canon after Grad Night, at which point Patrick has to go home for a family emergency and David goes with him. What I really love about it is how it puts Patrick in a position to be truly vulnerable and gives David the opportunity to kind of be the strong one and really take care of Patrick. This is something we don’t get to see to this extent in canon until maybe Meet the Parents, so it’s nice seeing it here so early in their relationship. Also, it’s just so beautifully written.

@vulcantastic​

Fic 1: no other version of me i would rather be tonight by wardo_wedidit

Why I like it: I’ve always enjoyed the concept of love languages, and it was so sweet watching David do so much for Patrick to show he loves him. Of course, it stems from fear and anxiety that David isn’t doing enough for Patrick (especially with Alexis egging him on), which reads very realistically to me. I think we as the audience tend to forget that David  has never had anything like this before, has never experienced the love of someone like Patrick. He’s still learning how to accept that love and return it, in his own unique ways. This fic does a great job of examining that.

Fic 2: Exposed Brick by swat117

Why I like it: To me this is the perfect “Patrick and David visit New York” fic. Patrick is characterized so beautifully here; we not only see how he aims to please throughout his relationship with David but in his interactions with Rachel and his family as well. I imagine there was a lot left unsaid on the show regarding Patrick’s uneasiness about moving to New York and David’s ultimate decision to stay with him in Schitt’s Creek--this is explored wonderfully here. Plus, as a new New Yorker, it was really nice to read about all the iconic places in and around Manhattan.

Fic 3: we’ll take the world together by sonlali

Why I like it: I am a sucker for stories that examine David and Alexis’ relationship before the start of the show. This fic in particular is heart-wrenching, touching on the trauma both siblings likely experienced before we as viewers knew them. I love the idea of David as protector of his younger sister, and to see that sentiment returned by Alexis now that they have grown (physically and emotionally) while living in Schitt’s Creek is beautiful to read.

@wlwbaudelaire​

Fic 1: you’re my peace and my quiet by chocobos

Why I like it: This fic is just so soft and sweet and always puts me in a good mood whenever I reread it. It’s wonderfully written and I can truly see this as an actual scene in the show. 

Fic 2: Terrified But The Truth is This by ryry_peaches ( @loveburnsbrighter​ )

Why I like it: As someone who’s had a headcanon that David is autistic since I started watching the show, this was the first fic I saw pertaining to it. I was happy to see how well it was portrayed, especially giving how poorly I’ve seen fics portray autism in other fandoms, and it even made me see the episode “Girls' Night” in a completely different light. 

Fic 3: Putting Down Roots by @this-is-not-nothing​

Why I like it: Absolute domestic fluff is my jam and this fic delivers it and then some. It gives me everything I could want in a post-canon fic where David and Patrick are happily married and living in their cottage.

Again, thank you to everyone who made this post possible! I am so happy we were able to spread some love and cheer to the fic writers of this community! Sending so much love to each and every one of you, and I’m hoping this provides some new material for the community to discover as well! 

[lovelylunarwriting]

Haechan Soulmate!AU

The first words your soulmate says to you are the words tattooed on your wrist.

Ever since you transferred from your old high school to this new one, all you've tried to do is not draw too much attention to yourself. 

The first couple days after you transferred in the middle of the year, you made a few friends and called it quits as far as climbing any social ladders goes. It's just not something that interested you. 

There is, however, someone who is interested in you. And his name is Jaemin. 

By some stroke of luck (to him), Jaemin managed to have almost every class with you. The only class he doesn’t have with you is fourth period history, the final class period of the day. 

You don't really know Jaemin, but it seems that trouble follows him everywhere. 

Trouble being his entourage of friends who are probably some of the most chaotic people you've ever encountered. 

Your last school was a lot more boring than this, so at least these boys keep you entertained. And generally speaking they keep the entire class entertained. 

They're all just so loud and not very low-key about their antics. 

Which is funny most of the time but can get annoying if done too often. 

Back to Jaemin though.

Jaemin has been obsessed with you ever since you transferred but is too nervous to talk to you- let alone ask you out. 

Some of his friends however, are astonishingly bold. One of these friends being Haechan.

And Haechan (along with most of Jaemin’s friends) is absolutely tired of him moping around all the time wondering if you’re his soulmate or not.

Renjun: “Dude just talk to them. Then you’ll know”

Jaemin: “Respectfully- no thanks”

Jisung: “Fine but if you don’t do anything you’re not allowed to whine about it”

Haechan: “I second that”

Jaemin: “Ugh but it’s bothering me! They could be my soulmate and I can’t know unless I talk to them but I can’t taLK to them?? Ya know??”

Renjun: “No we don’t know, just do it. Even if you’re nervous”

Jaemin: “But what if they’re not my soulmate?”

Jisung: “True, what if they’re MY soulmate?”

Chenle: “Oooo plot twist…”

Jaemin: “They’re not your soulmate, Jisung. You don’t suit them at all”

Jisung:”Oh and YOU do?”

Jaemin: “I could!!”

Jeno: “This isn’t helping! If Jaemin wants to talk to them then he will”

Jaemin: “Thank you, Jeno”

Jeno: “...but also could you talk about something (other) than them sometimes? It's getting old”

The next day Jaemin runs into the school building early, and up to the third floor staircase, where the boys usually hang out before the bell rings. 

He goes on this entire rant about how life’s too short and he’s gonna finally talk to you and confess his feelings.

The boys nod along and try to encourage him but… deep down they all know he’s not gonna do it.

Jaemin explains his plan to the eager listeners:

He’s gonna pass you a note during third period, since that’s the last class of the day he has with you.

Because then he doesn’t actually have to talk and risk saying something dumb. His logic is, that if you are his soulmate and he says something stupid, you might be pissed at him because that’s tattooed on you forever.

In his words, “I gotta make it count!”

Everyone agrees that this is an okay plan (Renjun claimed to have a better one but was quickly hushed), and that Jaemin should meet up with them after fourth period (the last class of the day), and tell them how it goes.

Jaemin agrees, the bell rings, and everyone goes their separate ways.

Jaemin spends the next five hours regretting his life decisions and desperately trying to refrain from nervous-puking up his breakfast (and later lunch).

Finally, third period arrives and as Jaemin walks in, you meet his gaze.

You think literally nothing of it, because you are more focused on cramming for the history quiz you’re gonna have to take next class period.

Why must you know every president and their political party? Because fuck you, that’s why.

Or at least that’s the thought that runs through your head almost the entire class because they’re going over Shakespeare and some other boring poetry stuff.

Jaemin though…. Jaemin is s w e a t i n g. Clammy palms, moist back, the whole package.

He asks the teacher if he can go to the bathroom (as an excuse but also because he feels like he might throw up his lunch after all), and slides the note onto your desk while you’re turned talking to your friend about how next period is gonna s u c k.

Jaemin leaves the room, and you lean back against your desk, unknowingly knocking the note onto the floor.

When he comes back inside (after like fifteen minutes of pacing in the bathroom and trying to not be anxious), Jaemin walks back to his seat but slows down when he passes you, giving you a chance to respond.

You though, have no idea of this boy and his well-meant schemes, so you just ask “You good, Jaemin?” as he hovers around your desk.

Jaemin blinks a few times, looks at his wrist, and sadly sighs. 

“Yeah… I’m fine”, he says, and plops down in his seat.

He traces the words “Wait- if it’s not butter, then what is it?” on his wrist with his finger, feeling stupid that he thought you might say that to him.

The context wasn’t right at all, but wishful thinking got the best of him.

He thought about texting the group chat and letting them know that you weren’t the one, but decided it was too embarrassing of an event to have to write out over text.

You on the other hand, still blissfully unaware of the shenanigans going on around you, head to your last class.

Dreading the quiz to come, you glue your nose to your textbook until the very last second.

The bell rings, the teacher hands out the quiz, and you write down everything you just spent the past hour cramming so you don’t forget it.

You finish early enough, and walk up to the teacher’s desk to turn in your paper.

The whole way there, you feel like someone’s watching you. And when you turn around to make your way back to your seat, you lock eyes with one of Jaemin’s friends, Haechan.

Sitting down, you space out and think about if maybe that Jaemin is the Jaemin your tattoo is referring to.

Your soulmate tattoo mentions the name Jaemin, but you never bothered talking to the boy because it wouldn’t make sense for him to talk about himself in the third person.

Plus, Jaemin is a pretty common name. If you jumped up every time you heard the name, you’d never sit down.

Something snaps you out of your thoughts. It’s that feeling again, like you’re being stared at.

You glance over and see Haechan looking at you again. He mouths something to you, but you can’t make out what he’s saying.

The only word you think you see is “soulmate”.

Maybe he saw your wrist and thinks Jaemin is your soulmate?? But you’ve already talked to Jaemin before, just last period. And it wasn’t him.

When the final bell rings, before you can get out of your seat, Haechan glides over to the front of your desk, slamming his palms on top of it.

Haechan: “You know Jaemin has a big ol’ crush on you, right? It’s so obvious”

You: “I guess I do now, since you just told me, but I don’t see it going anywhere if I’m being honest”

Haechan: “Is he not your-”, he starts but stops abruptly.

Haechan stares at you, wide-eyed, and then power walks out of the room.

You sit there with your mouth agape, looking back and forth from your wrist to the door he stormed out of.

“You know Jaemin has a big ol’ crush on you, right?”

It- you didn’t think it would be about this Jaemin. He was always so quiet around you and you literally hadn’t spoken to him until today.

As a kid you used to get your hopes up every time you met someone named Jaemin, thinking someone they knew was your soulmate, but after the fifth or sixth Jaemin it became too exhausting.

You’d honestly low-key forgotten about it by now… because the stress of school kind of gets in the way of life.

BUT NOW WE’VE GOT A LOT TO UNPACK BECAUSE JAEMIN HAS A CRUSH ON YOU BUT HAECHAN IS YOUR SOULMATE.

Loud, boisterous, diva, Haechan.

Speaking of Haechan though, he’s trying to figure out what the hell to do now.

Does he tell Jaemin? Or should he just not say anything?

Luckily, by the time Haechan meets up with the boys outside the school, Jaemin hasn’t shown up yet.

Haechan: “Okay I have bad news and good news and I don’t know which to say first”

Jeno: “Then just say both at once”

Haechan: “Okay well uh Y/N isn’t Jaemin’s soulmate”

Chenle: “Yeah I didn’t think so because of the butter thing, but how do you know?”

Haechan: “Because I talked to them and they’re my soulmate”

Jaemin: “They’re what?”

Jaemin had just gotten close enough to hear the conversation, but he heard every word.

Dead silence fell upon the group, Haechan not daring to make eye contact with Jaemin.

Jaemin: “Honestly Haechan… congrats”

Haechan: “What?”

Jaemin: “They’re not my soulmate and I’ve known that since third period. That’s what I came to tell you guys, but I guess you beat me to it. I’m not mad at you, it’s not like you could help it”

A collective sigh of relief and some quick banter, then the boys head their separate ways home.

Jaemin’s relieved to finally know one way or the other, and Haechan is now the one who gets to be a nervous wreck.

He’s not nearly as bad as Jaemin was though. He’s overthinking for about half an hour, and then just mildly jittery until he sees you tomorrow in fourth period.

Before you can say anything, Haechan repeats his routine of walking right up to you and planting his hands on your desk.

Haechan: “Hi so apparently we’re soulmates but I don’t know you very well but I want to and I don’t know if you’re busy or like boba but on Fridays we go get boba and play board games and it’s Friday so I thought you might-”

You: “I love boba. And board games. What time?”

Haechan: “O- oh. I thought I was going to have to convince you. Right after school we head across the street to that new boba place. It’s usually just me, Jisung, Chenle, and Jeno”

You: “Okay, then I’ll just walk with you after this class, right?”

Haechan: “...right. Shouldn’t you be more careful? I’m inviting you to go hang out with a bunch of guys you don’t know”

You: “You’re my soulmate. And I don’t know you very well, but you seem like a really sweet person”

This sends Haechan into a blushing frenzy, and it's all he can do to not sneak glances at you for the rest of fourth period.

He collects himself a bit, and when the bell rings he escorts you to the courtyard where you see three mildly familiar boys.

You think one of them is in your grade, but the other two look younger.

After Haechan introduces you and each boy briefly introduces themselves, the awkward politeness fades away and what replaces it can only be described as anarchy.

“Did you know Haechan fell asleep during our choir concert while some girl was doing a solo and he snored so loud she shushed him?”

“Yeah and Haechan can be dramatic at times so if he’s being too extra just let us know and we’ll keep him in check”

“Oh remember that time when we were long-boarding and the path flooded but Haechan tried to cross it anyway? Legend says the board is still floating down the creek to this day….”

It became a shit show of “who can embarrass Haechan the most”, but after a lot of complaining from Haechan and threats to do this to them when they found their soulmate, the boys managed to stop themselves.

Everyone orders their boba, and you all play uno, jenga, and other games until it becomes dark out.

Jisung: “Shit guys, it’s getting late. I don’t wanna miss the train”

You: “Yeah and I hate walking alone in the dark. I should probably go soon”

Haechan: “It’s fine, I’ll walk you home”

You: “Really? I was right, you are sweet~”

Chenle: “What but Haechan you usually walk with me! Now I’m gonna have to walk alone!”

Haechan: “Go spend the night at Jeno’s then! Walk home with him!”

Jeno: “Yeah let’s have a sleepover~”

Chenle: “Fine but we’re playing mario kart”

The boys disperse, and you lead Haechan down the street towards your house, chit chatting the whole way.

Even though it’s been a short amount of time, you and Haechan kind of just…  click together.

But that’s the whole point of soulmates, so you’re not that surprised.

He drops you off, but not before you ask for his number.

Haechan: “Wh- why?”

You: “So you can text me when you get home. I want to make sure you get there safe”

Haechan: “o- oh…”

You: “And so I can text you in general, of course”

Haechan seems to lighten up at this.

You head inside and immediately go to sleep, dreaming of the future you would have with that boy from your history class.

Oh and also Haechan failed the history quiz from the day before

34%. Rest in rip.

[s3ungyoun]

❝my eyes want you more than a melody❞ [single dad!seungwoo x reader]

genre: smut, fluff (?)

warnings: explicit language + content, age gap, unprotected sex, it’s kinda soft ngl 

word count: 4.4k

a/n (please read 😭): sorry for being so inactive!! exams + personal issues have been killing me lately. i’ve been sitting on this au idea for a couple months and i finally finished it so i wanted to post!! comments and feedback are greatly appreciated. i feel like this has a lot of unnecessary build-up until the smut which i usually don’t do, so pls let me know if u like it this way or not <3 ty pls enjoy

Seungwoo was untouchable.

Disregarding the fact that he was sinfully attractive and unbearably kind (aka, way out of your league) — he also just happened to be the dad of the child you babysat most weeknights. Harboring a crush on an actual father was not exactly ideal, yet you somehow managed it anyways. 

It was the little things, really, such as the way he would ask you to stay for dinner in his honey-like voice, or how his long, slender fingers looked as he ran them through his hair, rousing it in the process. Or maybe even the way he would always give his son a goodnight kiss, melting your heart as you wished he would give you one too.

“What are your plans for tonight?” your friend Yohan asked, snapping you out of your reverie. 

“Hmm? Oh, I’m watching Dongpyo.”

At that Yohan let out a slight chuckle, leaning back in his chair and mockingly raising his brow at you. Your crush on Seungwoo was painstakingly obvious to everyone except for him and Dongpyo (which you constantly thanked god for, seeing as the child couldn’t go a day without running his mouth). Seungwoo and Yohan were close family friends, and Yohan had actually assisted you in getting the job — unable to watch Dongpyo himself due to his busy schedule. Being a broke college student, the job was practically magical; the pay good and hours more flexible than other jobs available to those your age. Which was exactly why Seungwoo was so untouchable. You needed this job, and the thought of ruining it over a simple crush haunted you through every interaction. 

“The fact that Seungwoo-hyung hasn’t noticed obsession with him yet still amazes me.”

“Shut up,” you groan, glaring at him. “I’m not that obvious.”

“You look at him like you want to get railed.”

“And? I do.”

Yohan scrunches his nose up in disgust. “I’m gonna pretend you didn’t say that.” 

-- 

Picking up Dongpyo from school was something you enjoyed immensely. The walk home was spent with the 7-year-old ranting about his day, whether good or bad, and you nodding your head as if you totally agreed that his classmate, Minhee, was selfish for stealing his crackers during snack time — or whatever petty drama elementary students dealt with. 

Today, Dongpyo had gotten in trouble for talking back to his teacher, and you couldn’t help but coo at his pouty expression, reaching out to pat his head in sympathy. 

“Just follow her orders next time. Then you won’t get put in time out.”

“You don’t understand!” he whined, shaking his little fists. “She was wrong, I just wanted to correct her! She’s so mean to me.”

Chuckling, you turn to grab the child’s hand as you both cross the street, soon arriving to his and Seungwoo’s apartment building. Dongpyo switched the subject as you rode up the elevator, now telling you about Hyeongjun’s epic birthday party. This was the best part of your day — bonding with Dongpyo. While Yohan and Hangyul assumed you only liked the job for the perk of talking to Seungwoo, you did genuinely enjoy his son’s company. Not only was he adorable, but funny and warm-hearted as well, all traits you assumed he inherited from his father. 

The apartment itself was clean and sleek. While you had initially been surprised at the size of it, you quickly learned that Seungwoo’s job, whatever it was, paid quite well. 

Despite the apartment’s organization, Dongpyo’s toys still occasionally littered the floor, and you were careful not to accidentally step on a lego or break one of his precious toy cars. On days he felt especially active he would ask you to play with him, but for the most part he studied and stared at his iPad.

You were grateful for his low maintenance. Even though Seungwoo was gracious enough to work with your class schedule, you still arrived home late, leaving you barely any time to complete your assignments. Sometimes you wished the job was a little more demanding, Seungwoo a little harsher — because maybe then you wouldn’t feel the way you do.

--

Seungwoo arrived home a couple minutes earlier than usual that day, and you perked your head up at the sound of keys jingling in the lock, Dongpyo excitedly jumping up from his place on the couch to run towards the door. 

“Daddy!” he yelled, bouncing up and down while waving his arms as a signal for Seungwoo to pick him up. The father complied, his previously weary eyes sparkling in delight as Dongpyo nuzzled his face into his chest. 

“Was he good today?” Seungwoo asked.

“Well...” you began, glancing at Dongpyo. Noticing the pleading look on his face, you quickly changed your expression. “He was great! As always.”

Even if Dongpyo had decided to act up, you never quite felt like telling Seungwoo — seeing the smile come off his face as he solemnly disciplined his child broke your heart more than you wanted to admit. That, mixed with Dongpyo’s unresistable pout, usually kept him out of trouble. 

Seungwoo smiled. “Of course he was, I’m sure you keep him in check anyways. You don’t want to bother our precious babysitter, do you Dongpyo?”

Your face flushed, color lighting up your cheeks as Dongpyo giggled in agreement. “Y/N is the best!”

“Mm, she is, isn’t she?”

Letting out a slight chuckle, you pick up your things, simultaneously wanting to go yet dreading having to leave. Seungwoo puts Dongpyo down and turns towards you.

“Do you want to stay for dinner?” he asks, and you feel your heart leap a little. Dinners with Seungwoo weren’t extremely common, yet he did invite you to stay every once in a while It was rare that you took up on his offer, however, too worried you might embarrass yourself in some way that would haunt you for the remainder of your life. Besides, you were busy as well. 

“Ah,” you looked down. “I actually have a lot to do. Thank you, though!”

A flicker of disappointment flashed upon Seungwoo’s face, but he was quick to mask his dismay, nodding and wishing you farewell as you walked out the door. 

There were few sensations in the world that made you feel breathless, as if you were peacefully falling; a moment of tranquility yet exhilaration. Seungwoo smiling was one of them.

--

“Why don’t you just talk to him?” Hangyul suggested, thumb scrolling through his twitter feed as he laid haphazardly across your couch.

“Yeah, Seungwoo-hyung is nice. He’s not going to fire you for having a crush on him.” Yohan agreed.

Whining, you scowled at them. “How do I even approach that? ‘Hey, father of the child I’m currently making sure doesn’t die, I think you’re hot.’ No, that’s stupid. I don’t want to make him uncomfortable.”

“That’s kinda good actually. Brief, but gets the message across. Maybe don’t reiterate the fact that you babysit his kid, though.”

“Wait,” Hangyul interjects. “I have an even better idea.”

“Which is?” you prompt.

“I’ll make a shirt that says ‘Please Fuck Me.” You can wear it next time you go over.”

“Ooh,” Yohan exclaims. “Subtle. I like it.”

You throw a pillow at them. 

--

It was Monday, and Dongpyo seemed to be even more talkative than usual on the walk home. You zoned out slightly, occasionally nodding and mumbling one-word responses as Dongpyo continuously blabbered. In a way, you felt bad, but you had too much on your mind to listen to the seven-year-old complain about his teacher — no matter how adorable he was.

Dongpyo, however, sensed your wavering attention, tugging on your jeans while pouting slightly.

“Y/N,” he whined.

“Yes?” you asked, finally looking at him.

“Do you have a boyfriend?”

Eyes widening comically, you laughed while crouching down to his level. “No, I don’t. But why would you ask that?”

His pout turned into a smirk. To be frank, you were quite scared of Dongpyo at times — despite his innocent face, he always seemed to be planning something. “Well, Daddy said you were pretty, and Uncle Wooseok told me that when you think someone’s pretty, it’s because you like them.”

“I don’t think your dad said that, Dongpyo.”

“It’s true!” He yelled defensively. “Daddy thinks you’re pretty!”

Standing up, you reach to press the elevator button, ready for the conversation to be over as you head up to Seungwoo’s place. “Whatever you say.”

The walk into Seungwoo’s apartment is met with cries of indignation from Dongpyo, the younger still upset by the fact that you don’t believe him. Rolling your eyes, you shush him, hands coming up to rub at your temples. Your head had started to hurt due to the loudness of Dongpyo’s yells, each hour passing by slowly as you attempted to finish a paper due the next day despite Dongpyo’s words still ringing in your mind. Lying was not something he partook in. While the child did have a big mouth, everything he said was true to a certain extent.

Soon enough, Seungwoo is unlocking the door, Dongpyo jumping up and repeating the same scene that had occurred only days ago. It was heartwarming, really, how much the two loved each other. Basking in the affection in front of you, you completely forgot about Dongpyo’s words from earlier — until he decided to blurt it out.

“Daddy, you said Y/N was pretty, right?” 

“I—,” Seungwoo blinked, startled. “Where is this coming from?”

Blushing again, you were quick to stammer out a response, internally thinking of ways to escape the situation. “I’m sorry, you don’t have to answer him, he was just saying nonsense earlier—”

“She doesn’t believe me! I told her you said it, and she doesn’t believe me! Tell her I’m not lying, please.”

“Dongpyo,” Seungwoo sighed. “Why don’t you go to your room and play with the new toy I bought you, hmm?”

“But daddy—”

“Go.” He said sternly, watching as Dongpyo stomped down the hallway, lightly slamming his door in protest. 

Stuttering, you motion towards the door, slowly getting up. “Um, I think— I think I should go now, see you tomorrow?”

He focused his gaze on you, smiling faintly when he noticed the blush on your face. “I’m sorry about Dongpyo, he really has no filter sometimes.”

“Oh,” you said. “Don’t worry about it. Kids just have a good imagination.” 

“He wasn’t lying.”

This — this was where the lines truly blurred. Sure, Seungwoo had always been overwhelmingly kind, and at times a bit touchy, but he had never been so blatant before. There were moments of uncertainty, moments in which you wondered whether or not he felt the same way. Of course, you still weren’t sure, but you were at least aware of the fact that he thought you were pretty. And that simple statement was enough to keep locked in both your heart and mind for days or weeks on end, only opening the vault when you felt like further exploring your supposedly delusional fantasies.

You’re quick to leave after that, using the excuse of your paper as you practically run out the door. Once in the elevator, you let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding.

--

Maybe, just maybe you were a bit more delusional after what had happened. But when Seungwoo invited you to stay over for dinner that Friday, you didn’t deny him. 

The dinner itself was good, and Dongpyo talked throughout the whole ordeal, excitedly chattering about the field trip his school had taken that day. You couldn’t exactly pay attention to the food or Dongpyo, however, too flustered by Seungwoo’s constant stare. At first, you were worried that you had accidentally gotten something on your face, but after a quick trip to the bathroom, you determined that he was simply staring for no reason — staring at you.

As the night calmed down and Dongpyo went to bed, you were almost scared of what Seungwoo was going to do. Clearly, he had something to say — or he wouldn’t have stared at you like that. But what exactly was it? Had he found out about your crush? Were you going to be fired? Your stomach churned anxiously at the last question, fingers toying with the rips in your jeans as you sat on the couch, waiting for Seungwoo to return from Dongpyo’s bedroom. 

“Sorry about the wait,” he said as he sat down next to you. “Dongpyo wanted me to read him a bedtime story.”

You internally cooed, your mind immediately picturing the scene: a tired Dongpyo, desperately clinging onto his father as Seungwoo’s eyes filled with adoration, laying him down and—

Snap out of it, you reminded yourself, instead attempting to focus on what new jobs you could apply for when you got home. Maybe a barista?

“So,” Seungwoo started. “I wanted to talk about Monday, but I haven’t gotten the chance without you running out the door.” At that sentence he chuckled nervously, seeming almost as apprehensive as you. 

You gulped.

“I’m sorry if my comment made you uncomfortable. It wasn’t my intention, and I’m fully aware that it’s not my place to say things of that nature to someone who—well, someone who watches my kid.”

“It didn’t,” you stammered, “It didn’t make me feel uncomfortable or anything. I was just, surprised? I guess. I don’t really expect someone like you to think someone like me is pretty.”

He glanced into your eyes, fingers reaching out to brush a strand of hair out of your face. They finally settle on your cheek, and as his thumb strokes your chin, it feels like the air is being sucked out of your lungs, your chest constricting with each movement. “Y/N, you’re very pretty. You’re beautiful. If you weren’t so young and Dongpyo’s babysitter, I would—,” he stops. “Well, that’s not important.”

“You would what?” you implore, subconsciously scooting closer.

His eyes lazily drop down to your lips, and you’re certain that he can hear how fast your heart’s beating. Uncertainty lingers slightly in the air, clouding the mood and making you briefly wonder if this was a good idea — if this was going to ruin everything. You have hardly any time to be nervous, however, as Seungwoo is quick to close the gap between the two of you, molding your lips together. 

It wasn’t rushed nor heated, quick nor sloppy. It seemed to be a perfect meld of everything that is Seungwoo. From the way his fingertips gently combed through your hair, the way his other hand had settled protectively at your hip, or the faint aroma you caught of his cologne — everything somehow pieced itself together to portray his want, to portray the ache he had felt after pining for you all these months. 

You’re the first to pull away, breathing slightly laboured as you both stare at one another, each waiting for someone to speak. You’re not sure why, but every doubt you’ve ever had, every single moment of regret you’ve faced, has somehow been released into your mind. As if a dam had burst, you’re quick to jump up from your spot on the couch, refusing to look Seungwoo in the eye as you hastily took your leave.

You had fucked up.

--

“So, just to make sure,” Yohan said. “He said you were pretty, kissed you, and then you left?”

“Yeah, sounds about right.” 

“Are you fucking stupid?”

You let out an indistinguishable groan, words muffled by your pillow. “Clearly.” 

“I don’t understand your thought process. The man you haven’t shut up about for the past year basically tells you he likes you back, so your first thought is to ghost him?” 

“It’s not that simple!” You yell defensively, strangely resembling Dongpyo in the way you whine.

Yohan sighs in annoyance. “Explain then! What’s not simple about it?”

“First of all, he has a whole child. He’s also a lot older. 

“He’s not even 30.”

“Still! I’m probably too immature for him.”

“Doesn’t he get to make that decision though?” Yohan asks. “If he thought you were too immature for him, he probably wouldn’t like you in the first place.”

Grumbling, you turn to face him, face adorned with a scowl. “Can you stop being annoyingly right for one second? God, it’s suffocating.”

Yohan shakes his head. “If him being a single father bothers you, don’t do anything. But I know you. You love Dongpyo, and you obviously like Seungwoo-hyung too. If the only thing holding you back from pursuing this is the fear that he won’t like you, then, well, you’re even dumber than I thought.”

“I know,” you sigh. “But I kinda already messed everything up, don’t you think?”

“Seungwoo-hyung’s more forgiving than you think. He’s probably just as confused and anxious as you, wondering what he did wrong.”

The gears are slowly turning in your head as you calculate when you can talk to Seungwoo next. It was a long weekend, meaning Dongpyo had gone off to see his mother, and you were off work until Tuesday. While you weren’t quite sure of Seungwoo’s work schedule on the weekend, you still mustered up the courage to go and visit his apartment anyways, Yohan’s words lingering in the back of your mind. 

Tension radiates off your body as the elevator slowly climbs to Seungwoo’s floor. A small voice in the back of your head tells you that this is a bad idea, that it will only result in heartbreak and tears and having to find a new job. But there’s a bigger part of you, a part that is simultaneously fueled by your heart and whatever words of encouragement Yohan managed to give you — and that part leads you to Seungwoo’s door, it leads you to raise your fist and knock on it, and it leads you to step inside. There’s no turning back now, no excuses or hasty exits. Instead, it is you and Seungwoo, finally alone.

He’s the first to break the silence, offering you a drink as you tells you to sit down. You politely decline, making yourself comfortable on his couch, mind reeling back to the events that took place on it a mere two days ago. 

“I shouldn’t have kissed you, it was wrong of me to do so. If you no longer want to work here I understand, and I’m sorry for overstepping any boundaries. I just— I guess I just read the moment wrong, and I’m sorry for that.”

“Seungwoo,” you said softly. “You don’t have to apologize, I kissed you back. I guess I was just a bit overwhelmed with...everything. I like you, I really do. And I’m sorry if you don’t feel that way, if you just felt like kissing me for no reason and you don’t want me to work for you anymore. But—”

He cuts you off. “Y/N, I do want you to stop working for me.”

“Oh.”

“B-but not because I’m mad or uncomfortable or anything,” he laughs nervously, scratching at the back of his head. “I like you too. But that’s kinda hard when you’re, well, my employee.” 

“Are you firing me?” you ask teasingly.

“Do you want to be fired?”

“I want you to keep liking me.”

“Well then, yes, you’re fired.”

Giggling, you bat your eyelashes at him, “Can I at least get a goodbye kiss, then?” 

The kiss is heated this time, Seungwoo’s lips fervently pressing against yours as both of his hands trace your hip bones, moving slightly up and down your lower body. Yours are quick to mold themselves into his hair, gripping softly while his tongue coaxes your mouth open. Urgency is replaced by passion, and any hesitation is swallowed with every movement Seungwoo makes. Slowly, he lays you back against the couch, hovering over your flushed body as he continues his ministrations.

You’re the first to push things further, legs spreading out in order for Seungwoo to situate himself between them, the older man practically enveloping your entirety. As if they have a mind of their own, your hips bucked up to meet Seungwoo’s, a strained moan leaving his mouth at the contact. He’s quick to reciprocate, grinding down into you like a touch-starved highschooler. It’s almost sweet, the notion that you can turn Seungwoo into a groaning mess. But you suppose he has the same effect on you. 

Pulling back, he begins to leave soft kisses on your neck, biting softly when you let out a sigh of encouragement. There’s no doubt you’ll have marks the next morning, but at that moment, you can’t find it in yourself to care. 

Soft kisses and nips soon trail further down until he reaches your chest, Seungwoo immediately looking up at you for consent to continue. You nod, but he seems dissatisfied by this, shaking his head while letting out a hum of disapproval.

“Use your words, princess,” he orders.

“Please, Seungwoo. I want you to touch me.”

“Where do you want me to touch you, sweetheart?”

“Anywhere,” you whine. “Just please.”

He smirks at this, fingers tugging at the edge of your shirt as he lifts it off, unbuckling your bra as well. You’re a bit embarrassed — being so exposed — but the anxiety is quickly washed away by his awestruck gaze, Seungwoo leaning back up to resume kissing you as his hand gropes your breast, relishing in your gasps of pleasure when he lightly pinches your perked nipple. His other hand focuses on undoing your pants, making quick work of the buttons and zipper. 

The two of you briefly break apart in order for Seungwoo to take off your jeans as you almost rip away his shirt. If you were to look in on the both of you, it would seem as if you were starved — two lovers reunited after a painstaking absence. Instead, you were simply hollow, desperately clawing at the other for a sense of love and passion.

And indeed, you both found what you were looking for.

Both of you were stripped down to your underwear, yet no hasty movements were made. It was that moment again — that moment of tranquility yet exhilaration. The moment that was only ignited by Seungwoo’s smile, by Seungwoo’s voice, by Seungwoo. And right now, it was being ignited by the feeling of his fingers delicately tracing your core, your panties practically soaked with each circular motion. Slowly, he pulls your underwear down, tossing them across the room somewhere. Digits circling your hole, Seungwoo pushes one finger in, taking delight in the wanton moan that escapes your lips. 

“More,” you beg, hips moving to meet the thrust of his hand.

Seungwoo complies, pushing in another finger and attempting to scissor your open. The movement of your hips becomes more desperate when he adds a third, and you’re quick to warn him of your impending orgasm.

“S-stop,” you tell him shakily.

He pulls his fingers out, worriedly glancing up at you to make sure you’re not in pain. “Are you okay?” he asks. “Did I hurt you?”

Shaking your head, you point to his hard length pressed against your thigh, practically throbbing with need. “No, just wanna come with you inside me.”

At your statement he smirks, thumbs hooking around the waistband of his underwear and pulling them off. Your eyes widen slightly at his size, which doesn’t go unnoticed by Seungwoo, who leans down and kisses you ardently again, hands taking hold of your thighs in order to spread your legs apart and position himself between them.

Gripping the base of his cock, Seungwoo rubs the head against your folds, collecting your wetness while effectively teasing you. 

“Oh my god,” you whine. “Just fuck me already.” 

With that, he thrusted into you. The stretch was slightly painful at first, but Seungwoo had accommodated for it accordingly, giving you a second to adjust before he pulled almost all the way out, plunging his hips into yours again. Your breasts bounced with each snap of his hips, hands reaching out in hopes of finding something to grab onto you. Seungwoo notices this, intertwining his hands with yours with a look of both adoration and lust. 

“You feel so good wrapped around me, princess.”

You could only moan in acknowledgment, your brain foggy and disoriented from the pleasure. Releasing one of your hands, Seungwoo reached down to rub your clit, causing you to clench around him.

“Shit,” he mumbled. “You’re so tight.”

“Seungwoo, faster,” you whimpered, close to reaching your high.

His hips seemed to move at double the speed, drilling into you while you babbled incoherently, letting out small praises and loud gasps. Everything was overwhelming in a good way, each one of your senses being overcome by Seungwoo’s movements. His brow furrowed in concentration, and you could tell that he was close too, leading you to purposely clench around him. 

“Don’t, ‘m gonna come.”

“Me too,” you said, clenching again. His thrusts became sloppy, fingers lazily circling your clit as you both rode out your highs. The sound of labored breathing and racing pulses filled the room as the two of you basked in the afterglow, only breaking apart once Seungwoo pulled out and a light squeal of sensitivity was heard from you. He stood up, leaving to grab a warm washcloth and returning with fresh clothes. 

Sighing, he looks down, “We probably shouldn’t have done this on the couch.”

You let out a giggle, smiling warmly at him as he cleaned you up and dressed you, ensuring that you were fully comfortable before laying down again, positioning you to lay on top of his chest.

“You don’t regret anything, right?” he implores, anxiously gnawing at his bottom lip.

“No,” you affirm. “I told you I liked you, didn’t I?”

“Mmm, you’re right. It’s settled then, right?”

You look up at him curiously. “What exactly is being settled?” 

“That we like each other. That you no longer work for me. That— that I want you to be mine.”

“Yeah,” you smiled at him. “It’s settled.”

Letting out a sigh of content, he visibly relaxes. “Good.”

“But, who’s going to babysit Dongpyo now?”

“Hmm,” he mumbled, kissing the top of your head. “You should do it for free as my girlfriend, don’t you think?”

You could probably get used to that.

[heroprose]

the regular;

a/n. well what do u know.... turns out i WILL be writing for jojo on this blog...... @jojosmilktea, that is!! hi jojo i was ur bnha spring event anon! and i’m SOOO sorry this is late RIP!!!

ship. shoto todoroki x reader

summary. bubble tea shop au. it’s true that he knows your order by heart, but he wishes he knew a little more.

//

to be quite honest, you didn’t know this bubble tea shop even existed in this part of the city. 

it certainly didn’t look the part, all pristine with white stone walls and flower boxes hooked onto the closed glass windows. no, in fact it looked a little too bougie for this gray high rise district and you suspect that if it were not for the current downpour, wherein great big rivulets of water are endlessly streaming down the streets, hipsters would populate this cafe’s space in no time.

you cannot blame them, of course. it’s certainly a nice building and totally instagram-worthy. but what attracts you to it is not the vintage stone walls nor the massive poster plastered on the inside of the glass window, with vibrant letters that spell out NEW SEASONAL FLAVORS! but instead, it’s the generous pink awning in front that’s saving you from the insidious downpour. 

you were supposed to do a little grocery shopping before heading home, damn it. technically, though, you could brave the rain for a while and shop for bread and eggs while sopping wet, but it’s a deeply unappealing idea. it doesn’t help that your go-to grocer with the terrific deals is three train stops away either and that your phone is dead, drained from too many rounds of crossy road on your commute long before the rain even began.

restless, you squint through the window of the shop inconspicuously and gape in horror as you realize it is just as cute inside as it is outside. from what you can tell, it’s set up like a little garden party, with metal outdoor chairs and circular tables and the tiles even have flower smiley face stickers on them. oh no. 

it is something of a relief you’ve only discovered this bubble tea shop now because any earlier would have you blowing your bank account on extra boba and grass jelly. and in this economy? not ideal.

still, your eyes waver to the poster again. rose milk tea? peach iced tea? the prices aren’t listed anywhere so you presume they must be absolutely monstrous. completely insane, probably, and jacked up immensely to compensate for the expenses gone in the decor alone and--

“we’re open, you know. you can come in.”

you pull away from the window hastily, letting your back bump into the metal back of chair. biting back a cry of pain, you eye the speaker head-to-toe before letting your shoulders slack. the black apron tied at his waist screams barista. actually, everything about this dude screams barista, from the rolled up sleeves to the vaguely disheveled collar. even the watch on his wrist-- woah. is that a limited edition tag heuer watch? you blanch a little.

he grips the broom with both hands and gestures with the jerk of his chin to the door. “you can come in,” he repeats. his bangs flutter about his forehead thanks to the gusts of wind and it’s a bit mesmerizing to see the red and white flutter like that. 

“oh,” you say, desperate to recompose yourself as you pretend you weren’t wringing out droplets of water from your clothing just minutes before. “it’s okay, thank you. i’m just waiting for the rain to pass.”

the barista opens his mouth but before he can speak, a loud clap of thunder zips through you and goosebumps erupt across the expanse of your skin. with ears ringing, you wince and the tag heuer-wearing fellow only watches. you purse your lips, glancing from him. to the onslaught of rain, to finally the door. 

well. so much for staying outside. wordlessly, he pulls the door open for you and you oblige quietly, mumbling a small word of thanks as you pass him.

unsurprisingly, the shop is wholly vacant, save for him, the boy who follows you in, and another barista behind the counter, who leans against the table behind him with arms crossed. the radio is on but it’s turned down so low that it might as well be off.

it would be painful to loiter in this shop for an hour or so without buying anything, so begrudgingly, you pull out your wallet and pray to whatever higher deity up there that you won’t get hooked on their drinks and subsequently, their freakish prices. you’ve got a budget, for goodness sake. 

when you step to the counter, the barista that met you outside sets his broom aside to meet you on the other side. “what would you like?” he asks automatically, with the tilt of his head. you glance over the menu above his head despite knowing your answer deep inside your heart.

“taro milk tea, please,” you say, bringing your gaze back to him. a trickle of rainwater slides down the curve of his cheek and you have to tear your gaze away. “medium, with boba. and extra sugar too.”

“will that be it?”

“yes,” you reply with your eyes downcast, carefully deciding on whether to use cash or credit. maybe you can use some of your spare coins this time.

his gold name tag says “shoto,” and it gleams even in your peripheral vision as he nods and turns to the other barista with the spiky hair who stands a few ways’ away and glowers a bit. 

“katsuki,” says shoto. “one medium taro milk tea with--”

“yeah, yeah,” says the other barista snappishly. “i heard. i’m literally right here.” he pulls away from the table and exits to the back forcefully and you two watch him in relative silence. a guitar-heavy shawn mendes song plays in the background; played too softly for you to determine which one though.

shoto’s gaze swivels back to you, undisturbed by the attitude his coworker just presented and so you do your best to remain indifferent as well. it is similarly pure irony to have such a gentle cafe hosted by such personalities. 

“name?” he simply asks and you tell him, not bothering to question why that was still necessary if you were the only customer in the entire shop. 

and it is equally strange that after katsuki returns with your drink, about to hand it to you, shoto acts to intercepts with an extended hand to take the cup away.

“what are you doing?” says katsuki incredulously, drawing back.

shoto presents the sticker with the order printed on it in the air. “i need to put this on.”

“seriously? it’s not like you could hand it to the wrong person,” he mutters, but lets shoto tease it out of his hand before promptly returning to the kitchen again, letting the doors swing behind him. you refrain from smiling too wide as shoto carefully presses the sticker onto the cup behind the counter with an unexpectedly concentrated expression on his face.

when he utters your name to catch your attention, shoto slides your drink over to you, not letting go until your fingers accidentally brush over his. “here you go.”

“thank you,” you say brightly, shaking it for good measure. the ice clinks distract you momentarily from the noise of rain hitting concrete. the cream and purple taro swirl together brilliantly.

he nods, turning away to take a cleaning rag into his hands. shoto wipes at the counter meticulously, every once in a while swiping a smudge with his fingertips to evaluate his work. the quiet is only periodically punctured by the clap of thunder and when shawn mendes starts belting out the background adlibs via the radio.

“when do you think the rain will let up?” you muse absentmindedly, fingers drumming the raised counter as you push along your bubble tea and dig around the container for a straw of your favorite color. “not for long, i hope.”

shoto blinks, glancing up. “i heard it’ll last all through the night.”

steely dread pools at the bottom of your stomach. “no!” you gasp, confronting shoto. “really? i don’t have an umbrella or anything.” you didn’t hear anything of the sort, but then again, you haven’t checked the forecast since this morning. maybe you can wave down a cab or something. you let out a brief laugh of disbelief that rapidly devolves into a groan. “man. that stinks.”

he looks at you sympathetically, watching you deftly pierce the plastic seal top of your milk tea with more force than necessary. 

you bring the straw to your mouth, sipping quietly as you think of your next line of action. the richness is disturbingly good and you’re saddened to know that you’ll be returning in the future, rain or no rain. 

taking a seat in a metal chair, you finally give the shop a thorough glance over. with all the bright lights and pale wallpaper plastered with colorful stickers. above you, the ceiling vents buzz quietly. the whole shop is just--

“dazzling,” you murmur after several minutes, submitting to its glamour. “everything’s so pretty here.” the interior designer really went ham here and it shows. you fish your phone out of your slightly damp pocket and wipe at the screen with a sigh. you’d even take a photo if you could.

unbeknownst to you, shoto had left the counter upfront and is wiping down a table nearby as you speak. “thank you,” he says and you jolt, head snapping towards his direction. “we do our best to be presentable and comfortable.”

“full marks on both then,” you say breezily and a ghost of a smile teases at his lips before he walks away to the backroom. 

he’s amused. did he think you were funny? your ears start to warm up a little and you drain your milk tea faster. in any case, it’s best that you brave the storm sooner than later. 

there’s little doubt that the rain won’t be stopping any time soon and it would really be the icing on the cake if you not only got stuck in a thunderstorm but fell ill as well. you’ve realized, from all your years of life, that people don’t appreciate their functional nostrils until they get stuffed. 

and you don’t know how much time passes in that cafe with the absence of clocks and your phone, but after catching yourself glancing over at shoto for the fifth time, wondering if you can make him smile like that again, you finally think that enough is enough. your chewing speeds up. 

then you stand up, careful to not let the metal feet scrape the tiles. should you just book it, through the rain? or should you stand under the awning a little longer, hoping the rare cab will notice your helpless self and save you? as you mull these thoughts over, you toss the cup into the bin and wipe your hands with a spare napkin, getting rid of the condensation.

“wait.” 

shoto’s calm voice makes you whirl around yet again.

as he walks closer, you notice that he’s gripping something in his hand and you can only bring yourself to stare as he presents it to you.

“take it,” he says. “this is my umbrella.”

your heart stutters for a second. “huh? no, i couldn’t,” you say hastily, dismissing him with a wave. “that’s really kind of you though, thank you.”

“but you said you didn’t have one.”

you give him a quizzical look. “but if i take yours, then you don’t have one.”

“katsuki-- um, the other person who works here-- lives near me. we commute together sometimes. so please,” he says, gesturing the closed umbrella.  you wrap your fingers around the clear plastic gingerly to his coaxing. “take it.” 

tears nearly prick your eyes as you lean over to pat him on the arm graciously. he’s more alarmed than anything else as you do, silently wide-eyed, and is it only then that you notice his eyes are different colors. “thanks, shoto. i’ll be back tomorrow to return it then. i promise!”

he gives you a quick nod. “i don’t work tomorrow. i’ll be here all weekend though.” 

“alright, shoto. i’ll see you on the weekend.”

“stay safe.”

you’re already turning away and pushing open the door before you see the flicker of a smile pass over his visage again.

/

“you gave away your umbrella?” says katsuki after the cafe closes later that evening. his eyes narrow down at his fellow coworker sharply. “to a damn customer?”

“it’ll get returned,” assures shoto. his upper arm is warm where you had touched him, and his hand hovers over it for a second before he shrugs on his jacket.

“that’s not the point,” his coworker seethes, angrily hanging up his apron. “my car is two blocks over and i was relying on you to do your part in bringing the umbrella. idiot!”

ah.

/

you come back that sunny weekend, with shoto’s trusty transparent umbrella in hand... as well as the weekend after. and the weekend after that. sans the excuse of the umbrella, of course.

when it is katsuki that greets you at the counter, he does little to hide his disapproval of your order; grunting when you greet him with a cheerful “hi katsuki!” and grimacing each time when you smile and add, “with extra sugar!” to your order.

“you’re aware of how much sugar is already in this stuff, right?” he tells you. 

“i’m here for a good time, not a long time,” you reply. “and are you really supposed to be asking me that? as someone who works here?”

katsuki scoffs and wordlessly punches your order in anyway. his brew, however, is immaculate without fail so you don’t question his tactics.

but when it is shoto... he greets you warmly, stretching the conversation by asking about how you are and about your day.

“the regular?” he eventually asks after several weeks of you making the same order as the last. 

you smile. “the regular.”

sometimes, you loiter near the counter when it’s not busy. you learn, with some semblance of glee, that shoto is a student like yourself and he only works part-time-- the rainy afternoon you met him on had been a shift he was covering for someone else. other times all you can do is take your drink and wave him goodbye.

even on the extremely busy days where you cannot even find a vacant seat, there are brief seconds where you think of leaning against the wall and enjoying the atmosphere. it is a startling realization, how desperate you want to linger in his presence. 

your affection is making you ill. ugh, and being bloated is not a good look on you either.

drinking taro milk tea at competitor bubble tea shops don’t even sate you. it’s always too watery, too thin; the flavors rounding off as bitter, over brewed tea. but you drink them to wean yourself off. you should probably stop drinking them altogether though.

some time passes before you can find it in yourself to return. the storefront is as pretty as it always is whenever you pass it by on your commute.

“hey, how are you? have you been alright?” asks shoto right off the bat, dropping his washrag haphazardly beside the sink when you find yourself at the counter again after the weeks of hearty self-restraint.

his concern is so vivid it unnerves you. it’s a funny and ill-placed nervous look on his face, eyebrows pulled tense. “i’m fine,” you say, “how have you been?”

“i’m well,” shoto says. “and... that’s good. it’s been a while. i thought you might have started getting your milk tea fix from somewhere else.” he pauses. “have you?”

his sincerity makes you throw your head back and laugh, but your stomach gurgles at the recollection of drinking so many subpar taro milk teas. “never,” you tell him finally. “i like this place too much. and the people here too.”

“i see.” shoto’s smile is bright this time, eyes so soft even as he speaks. “the regular then?”

you let out an exaggerated sigh, your own gaze crinkling up. “you know me so well, shoto.”

/

“quit freakin’ flirting at the counter,” snaps katsuki, mopping the floor vigorously. “do that shit when you’re not at work, icy-hot. it’s disgusting that i have to stand here and listen to you two.”

shoto frowns. “it’s not flirting. we have to be kind to customers.” he calls from the kitchen.

“kindness is you giving extra napkins, not asking if they’ve been going to other bubble tea shops. as if.”

“we’re... just friends then.”

“just friends, my ass. what, you think that extra sugar ass sweet tooth loser came in every week alone just to get tea? you know what...” katsuki’s peeved grumbles trail off until they’re no longer comprehensible.

shoto just ponders on this as he drains the sink.

/

“here,” says katsuki one saturday afternoon. “take it. and go.” he pushes the purple drink into your hand and wipes his own hand on his apron. “extra sugar. don’t blame me when your teeth fall out.”

“damn,” you say, although you are hardly taken aback by his crudeness anymore. “but i will. i’ve got a lot to do today, so i can’t stay and chat. bye guys!”

“take care,” says shoto just as katsuki says, “don’t care, didn’t ask.”

(when you wave goodbye, however, you are pleased to see that they both reciprocate kindly.)

by the time you eventually take a sip, you’re already on your way to the rail to get to your favorite grocery store. today, it’s buy one get one free bags of potatoes so you know you’ll be stocking up this time.

mindlessly, you pierce the top with your straw, careful to aim for the center. you give it a stir before taking a sip, the familiar creaminess filling your mouth. 

although it’s... different, somehow. 

sweeter, you think. did katsuki actually overload it with sugar this time? seemed like a weird prank to pull. perhaps he was teaching you a lesson but considering that he hasn’t been fired yet indicates that this was an infrequent occurrence. hopefully. 

chewing the boba thoughtfully, you pull the cup away in order to squint at the dark text printed on the sticker. it’s the same as you always say it: a medium, iced, taro milk tea, with boba and 25% extra--

the word “sugar” is scrawled over with black ink, although not deliberately it seems. it’s just covered up with a slew of numbers and letters written unbelievably neat in spite of being on a cylindrical cup and you nearly hack up a black clump of sugary boba onto the concrete sidewalk. 

but nevertheless, you force it down to look at the order again, more closely this time.

they’re numbers, and your heart stutters in your chest at the realization there’s just enough to be a phone number; followed by a name that you only ever saw emblazoned on a gold name tag.

you want to commit the numbers to memory, but it’s undeniably hard to concentrate. not when shoto’s gentle smile is on the forefront of your brain and  when big, fat droplets of water are hitting your forehead with incredible force. 

you glance up at the swirling, ashen clouds above you, bloated and expecting. an uncomfortable feeling crawls up your spine at the realization that you’ve forgotten your umbrella at home today too. 

oh god. not again.

/

“i can’t believe you actually wrote your number on my cup today... very smooth, shoto.”

there’s a beat before shoto replies, his voice tinny and distant over the phone. “actually, i did that the first day you came in-- when it was raining. i figured you didn’t notice or you were rejecting me.”

“oh. so, wait-- you did it twice then? that day and today?”

“no,” says shoto. “just that day.”

“then who--” you stop yourself.

outside your window, a clap of thunder shakes the sky. and the epiphany that follows renders you both silent.

[bma-2020]

&& @famebounded​ ;; SC

     Eyes wander with voices heard, distractions heavy at this time of day. The seats were filling up, songs fluttering from those intoxicated too far to care how awful they sound. Often the Underground opted for live music, but twice a month they instilled this event to encourage more patrons. Such a waste. Though, newcomers still needed a place to be. Oysters seemed confused more often than not.  “ If you want a table seat, find an empty station. Otherwise the bar’s still mostly free. “ 

[tirednotflirting]

okay okay okay let's do it. 4, 24, 25, 26, 35, and 39 bc you deserve to be nice to yourself. yes i read the entire list of questions. give me your answers at your leisure love you the most xoxo bella

lol thnk you my love u are Right i just forget that sometimes <3

okie dokie here we go:

4. Link your three favorite fics right now.

heck yeah okay RIGHT NOW? okay.

i have been LOVING ! off the wall by @ilovegolden from the very beginning. warped tour au is a god tier au, alright? i love how the whole thing is so romanticized by everyone who was ever involved in it, especially as someone who never got to go it brings me a lot of joy. the characters in this are all so vibrant and bright and i wanna be their best friend and also just give them a hug (and probably a nap and shower lol). the detail in this is so special and carefully crafted like i feel the love in it. i read so little harry fic nowadays like keeping up with this has made me so nostalgic too. really looking forward to where this guy goes :)))

(i stg i’m not kissing ass here) i fucking love daydream jalex (aka right now could last forever (just as long as i'm with you) like quite literally babe it’s my emotional support fic i almost have a ritual of reading this probably once a week. the story telling in this is unreal like you’re sucked into their little world from the first line where they’re throwing fucking cheese at each other. there’s so much history woven into every line like it’s wild i don’t know how you do it. there’s so much love and joy between all the characters and it’s just FUN. this fic really highlights all of the best things about your writing like i could go on for days. <3

lastly, bc i was beginning to reread it the other day, i think i’m going with the one and only britpop malum (orrrr i took a walk with my fame down memory lane (i never did find my way back) by @calumcest) (god helen your url never fails to make me giggle at least a little bit). one of my favorite things about helen’s writing is how fly on the wall i immediately feel in every scene. she shows and tells it all and i can see the lights from the show and heat liam bitching about the band and football and it’s such a good time living inside of her writing for a little while. i’m always going to hold this fic close to my heart i think after spending the entire summer sitting in the doc. (side note - it still kills me that every once in a while after reading this fic i forget the gallaghers are real people ANYWAY.) excited to get caught up on this thing i miss this little world <3

(sorry idk how to provide short answers on Anything :    )

24. What’s a trope that you’d like to never hear about as long as you live, let alone write?

see this is hard for me because i know for a fact that there are LOADS of tropes i would never want to write but i’ve read a ridiculous number of them and i’m not necessarily opposed to much (something for everybody, ya know?). i guess like a True enemies to lovers is a little bit lame and hard to do well, imo (i say true bc i almost feel like something like sugar on the asphalt - fucking fantastic and a Classic from @justanchorandhope i must say - could fall into that category except not really though bc grace probably doesn’t have the word enemy in her vocabulary, bless her heart). so okay we’ll go with that bc you probably couldn’t pay me enough to write it and i’m bored of trying to read it (said w love)

25. Do you listen to music as you write? If possible, link your writing playlist.

only if i’m writing songfic tbh! otherwise it confuses my brain. so all too well is still in my on repeat and currently it’s cornelia street (lol i rlly need THAT to go somewhere sdkfsfdjkl). i do have this playlist from when i tried writing this ashton fic last spring that went literally Nowhere but ya know good tunes. (god i came up with the coolest OCs last spring, miss them)

26. What’s your biggest distraction when writing?

oh god basically everything sldkfjsdlk i guess like i kinda just said, i cannot listen to music 95% of the time when trying to write. i wish i could but it would making 3248290x more of a headache and it also usually just gives me other ideas and then i can’t focus on the doc in front of me lol.

35. How much has writing fic changed your life?

like more than i could ever even begin to describe, dude. so i’m a stem girl, right? but when i was younger, my creativity was a lot more present and living inside my head and reading and writing little stories was so much fun. there was some kinda switch as i got older and i think those around me started preaching practicality a lot more and like, i was good in science and it was an easy route to a career and heeeeere we are. but it also meant i didn’t get any practice at being creative and i think at some point the jokes about not being good at or being allowed to be creative really got to me? so i just gave up the idea of the ideas i had ever really becoming anything. idk exactly what it was (something mixed into my conversations w helen last spring, probably) that got me to open up a doc one day and give it a shot but jesus christ, i’m so happy i did. writing fic is quite literally the biggest thing that brought me joy and community and some of the kindest souls (like yourself, miss bella) during a year that was set to be potentially pretty shitty. i wasn’t sure how i would be able to make friends in ‘adulthood’ but a creative outlet like this appears to be the answer. it’s also provided me a confidence in myself and my ability to create things that i never knew possible. like you said, i can be pretty mean to myself but like. i’m good at this. and that’s fucking cool. happy to be here.

39. What’s something about your writing that you pride yourself on?

ya know that luke/lashton thing i wrote with a single line of dialogue? that. i pride myself on that. fkjsdlkf but really i think i’m pretty damn good at descriptive writing and i kinda dig how it’s become ~my thing~. i like showing rather than telling in my writing i think, it feels like a challenge. lemme talk about a sunset for dayyyyyys i swear i would. 

*

[yume-fanfare]

hi i am that anon from like 29th Dec (last dang year) who said i read ur tsuki no hime and loved it and that u understand Aizou. i have read more of ur stuff since then and now i NEED to ask you for writing advice, on both characterization and general writing tips since I didnt mention it before. Sorry about that! i just forgot i sent an ask and i do not get notifs at all (or does anon asks not get notifs?) Also, ART STUDENT! That's why the nice art and art leaning!! I feel smart for sensing it

oh yup, tumblr doesn't send notifs for anon asks! but i'm glad you did see the answer anyway

this post is hideously long, so answer under the cut!

so, on characterization: it is mostly a matter of what would they say, rather than what you want them to say. the joke about "the characters do what they want to" instead of what the writer wants is pretty much true if you want them to be in character lol (that's why sometimes a little bit of OoC isn't too bad)

checking the source material is the most important thing: look at prior similar interactions the characters have had and how they reacted

this is kind of hard with LIPxLIP, as there aren't that many translated texts about them but with honeyworks the most canon and reliable thing to use as reference are the mvs. the mvs are drawn in a way that can pretty much be understood even if you don't have the lyrics, and sometimes it's even better if you can't read them, to properly focus on the images better

look at their expressions closely: while aizou is always explosive in his anger, yuujirou often has a more indifferent expression. so, when they fight, aizou is probably the one to blow up first while yuujirou maintains his composure better. it's kind of the classic "this was only a brief passing panel but i am going to expand on it" www

but the thing about fanfiction is that it's always a bit of a character analysis in itself. you don't start writing having already a color-coded folder of possible situations and reactions a character would have for each setting. you just throw the characters in a scenario and then think from there onwards, and eventually you'll be able to have the folder of situations and what you think their reactions would be like. (though, this links back to the prior point, if the characters have gone through a similar situation in canon, use that as guide! plus, finding little references to canon when reading is always fun)

for general writing, i'm going to mostly talk about my own experiences and process! i'm in no way a professional though

the basic is reading a lot. not just books but also fanfic. in fact, since you're writing fanfic, i Encourage you to read fanfic. even if your story ends up novel length, the way of treating the story is different from that of an actual novel. for example, because you're working under the premise that everyone knows the characters already. the general style of fics is different as well.

in fact, the style is the main reason i'm saying this slfkslfkslkf

read a lot of stuff and find a style you like. think of it as sewing together pieces from here and there to make a frankenstein amalgamation: this person's metaphors, the comparisons from here, the descriptions from there

personally, i adore the "long one-shot with a long title formatted (like this)" fics that are mostly feelings and descriptions and as little dialogue as possible, and some that occasionally play with the "show don't tell" rule, and some months ago i read a book whose descriptions amazed me because you could feel what the character was focusing on the most, rather than being general descriptions of the situation (i actually have a lot of thoughts about descriptions but that's a post for another day). but also i really like dialogue and plot-driven stories, descriptions can get boring and before trying to break rules, you have to be really good at following them

but, let's go step by step: developing an idea

for this i'm going to mostly reference the multichap i finished a while ago as an example

i started with just a few vague concepts in mind: non-idol au with aizou who does some sport and likes music but is insecure about his singing and yuujirou who does some music related thing and encourages him to sing in a way that's somehow related to the hozier song to noisemaking (sing), because it's what inspired me to write in the first place

then, from then onwards i wrote down what would happen in the first chapter of the story bullet-point-list-style, including things like the roommates part or the clubs the boys were in (at first yuujirou was in the choir club lol the change was a last second decision that idk why i took) and then bits of dialogue here and there that would be The Turning Points. those first dialogues were for the fight at the end of ch 1, the apology-date in ch 3 and then some vaguely unused ones for the "yuujirou encourages aizou" part, as those were the first key moments i thought of

because, since it's enemies to friends to lovers, an important aspect was character development

not all fics have character development bc not all of them are long enough (if you're aiming for short and sweet then there's no need). but if they do, i recommend you write down how the character was at the beginning of the story and then how they were at the end and then fill in the middle later, think of what those key turning points that made the character change were (the more little things you add, the more gradual it'll be)

samishigariya illustrates this very nicely: the song starts and finishes with the same lines, but the ending ones feel more light-hearted. the beginning has pre-arisa ken and pre-getting-along-with-yuujirou aizou, when they were the lonely people the title mentioned, and the ending, when they're not lonely anymore. the in between can be seen in depth during the other songs: ken before arisa was a playboy who didn't take love seriously, but after meeting her he realized that games were not all there was to love; and aizou used to be quite cranky and high-key a loner, but then he "meets precious things and knows of love". i will not elaborate on that because this isn't an aiyuu post but Oh You Know

for the fic, aizou would go through that same process, more or less: someone who doesn't really form meaningful connections with people but who, in the end, would end up having quite a bunch of people who care about him as his relationship with yuujirou advances too

since the relationship was the main focus, i wrote a very simple outline for how it would develop throughout 5 hypothetical chapters that was just: 1. civil w each other but mostly bad > 2. bad > 3. half friends > 4. pining > 5. date

and then with that in mind and the bullet point list, the final basic outline ended up like this:

there were scraped ideas and ideas that made it in later, but i believe having a simple outline, a bare skeleton to add things to, is important. stories need continuity, development requires a prior buildup

it's especially important in multichapter fics where you post as you write, you need to have a more or less clear idea of what's going to happen because you can't ignore scenes you've already posted

shorter stories don't need it as much, you can think as you go, but it's still helpful to know where you're going with things to avoid getting stuck

and, on getting stuck: don't be afraid of deleting things. if you can't figure out how to continue things, then delete the situation and start again. it might feel like you'd be wasting time but in the end, it is so much better than being stuck on the same scene for weeks

in fact, you don't have to write in order. jump to the next scene and you'll figure it out later. you Can write the scene you want to write and then build everything else around it

it's normal to write a scene and then realize it would make more sense later in the story, or that it would be better if you added another scene earlier, or sometimes you just find it easier to jump from one part of the story to another. rely on your outline to keep track of what you've written, what you have left to write and what's the best way to arrange your story. make your story understandable

which bring us to editing

there's a lot of much better posts on editing stories, but yeah ctrl+f is your best friend: don't repeat yourself too much. and be sure to vary sentence and paragraph length, as well as sentence structure, to give dynamism to the writing

now, i've mentioned before the show, don't tell rule, but i'm going to talk a bit more about it because it's quite important

once again there's a lot of posts that explain more in depth what it is, so i'm not going to expand too much on that, but, very basically, try to avoid things like "then some time passed and they became friends". explain it: what happened exactly? how did they become friends? if it's important, show it to us, instead of summarizing

since things like these make the story longer, it also gives room for more development and proper explanation for things that happen

for example, the fic was originally going to start with them already in the room, and the whole situation would have been explained in a single paragraph somewhere, but by actually adding the scene where they first arrive to the dorms and argue with the lady at the main desk, the story flows better and it let me actually describe their first meeting

and uuuhhh i think that's all? this took super long to write i hope i didn't forget any super basic stuff lol

i want to add that for enemies to lovers i greatly recommend this post bc it's super good but yeah i think that's basically it, if you have any more specific questions just shoot me an ask

[enduringsea]

( rules: you can usually tell a lot about a person by the kind of music they listen to! put your music on shuffle and list the first 10 songs, then tag 10 people! no skipping! ) / tagged by @yellowcrumpet​ ╭( ･ㅂ･)و )))

Thanks for the tag! I LOVE these things-- I don’t rlly have a playlist either though, just a mess of music files on a device I haven’t updated so I’ll be checking my YouTube history too lol. There’s a uhhh.... pattern to be found, mainly relating to Code Vein or other OCs.... which isn’t surprising ._. ;; I made it a separate post bc I knew this was going to get long and rambly with lyric snippets and crying about fictional characters, sorry :D

1. Repeat Until Death - Novo Amor don’t go / you’re half of me now / but i’m hardly stood proud / i said it, almost oh i’ve been low / but damn it i bet it don’t show / it was heaven a moment ago oh i can’t seem to let myself leave you / but i can’t breathe anymore This one gives me Loubeth vibes ok, partially bad end route ;-; While Elizabeth is a very strong person, her friends are the most prominent reason she tries to do anything at all & isn’t living day-to-day in a monotonous grind to survive without a solid purpose other than ‘help random ppl bc it’s the right thing to do’. If she loses them, it’d ruin her & hammers into her head how everything she’s ever done has been a failure. She suffered a major betrayal by her boss before the Collapse, she was unable to fully participate in proj. queen despite her incredible test results, she failed to defeat Cruz and take her blood during Operation Queenslayer, and if she fails to protect the people she’s finally found meaning with? She’d break down completely & destroy herself to save them. She’s always had some level of abandonment issues, and without her family around it’s so much worse, even if it isn’t the most obvious because she’s generally seen as very well put together-- I really can’t express how much it would hurt her to lose Louis, Yakumo, and the others. She’s just not one to show just how bad it can truly get for her mentally and emotionally-- she’s resilient as hell, she’s been through hell repeatedly and survived it all, so it’s easy for others to assume she’s fine all things considered. It makes her feel weak and ashamed of herself if she shows any level of vulnerability, so she doesn’t; she swallows it down and is afraid of disappointing those who look up to her as a fighter and friend-- of course, no one at Home Base would blame her for being vulnerable, they all have their moments, Bethy just sets herself to such a high standard it’s difficult for her to talk about her own suffering in spite of how well-versed she is in getting her thoughts and feelings across otherwise. Louis is the one most keen to how deeply she’s hurting, but he doesn’t understand just how deeply until she finally does fall apart. The final swell of the song and its desperate lyrics really relays the pain they both feel-- Louis too would not fare well if something happened to Elizabeth, because he blames himself she was even involved in Operation Queenslayer for a long time, I honestly did so bad in explaining coherently, this song just has so much emotion and hurt behind it adklfjdfdff </3

2. Looking Out For You - Joy Again this is a love song for a girl who will never know it’s about her she's beaming that smile / all the while i’m all tripped up on my own throat i guess there is no hope This song reminds me of Elizabeth & my friend’s character Takashi Fujioka, who gets-- vERY...FRIENDZONED, for lack of a better word, by Elizabeth in his story, it’s really summed up best as tragic (;﹏;) Before the Collapse they were hitting it off, then the Collapse happened, they were separated, he lost his sisters, Mido happened, he was experimented on + became a revenant, etc, etc; years have passed since then & she’s gotten her life together as much as one can in a world like Vein, but for Takashi it’s like no time has passed at all. Elizabeth is subtly older in appearance, she’s been working w Lou & Co. for a long time; Loubeth blatantly have a connection, & rather than bringing up his feelings + making it awkward bc he values their friendships, he just kinda. chokes on them & does his best to help out the team. It doesn’t help he can’t even be jealous bc Louis is a really solid friend to him too, IT’S JUST A MESS OF A SITUATION & the death of what could have been if things were different.

3. Closer - Teagan And Sara ( no lengthy explanation for this one thank goodness, I’ve just been watching BoJack Horseman again and I really like some of the songs they add in, I like listening to this one on loop when mindlessly coloring something )

4. Brutal - Olivia Rodrigo  all I did was try my best / this the kind of thanks I get? they say these are the golden years / but I wish I could disappear ego crush is so severe / god, it's brutal out here I have it on a playlist for Elizabeth somewhere, not all of it applies to her but it reflects some of her struggles she has both before & after the collapse. She’s-- always kind of been a mess while under immense pressure + has serious self image issues, this song hits that side of her well. She’s been held to humanly impossible standards by both herself and her family bc frankly? She can reach them, she’s NOT exactly human. She was born into her position as a hunter & intends to keep it for as long as she lives (like revenants, her kind is very much ‘either gets killed or lives 5ever), even if some days she really feels how heavy the burden can be. She didn’t have a normal childhood and she’s fine with it for the most part, but it alienates her from most of her peers-- she never got to date anyone, never had a close group of friends, never went to parties that weren’t formals, etc., while she feels a little childish about it, she does envy ‘normal’ and understands the pressure she’s lived under her entire life has caused damage-- she has been exploited for her abilities, there’s just not much she can do about it but to keep going, rlly.

5. Freaks - Surf Curse  don't kill me / just help me run away from everyone  i need a place to stay / where i can cover up my face don't cry / i am just a freak / i am just a freak UhhhHHH this song really makes me think of Oliver Collins :D;; thank TikTok for showing it to me. It makes me think of how scared he was, of both the world and the revenants who captured him. The song’s use of the word ‘parasites’ really makes me think of Revenants and the BOR parasites XD I’m hoping when I poke my video editor again, I can record some Oliver footage to make a short video to this song. Oliver deserves so much better, I wish you could save him, but that’s what AUs are for, hahah.... The second half of the lyrics make me think of the AU I have where he lives and has to grapple with the guilt of surviving and the things he did to other revenants to get by too.

6. All Eyes On Me - Bo Burnham you say the ocean’s rising / like i give a shit you say the whole world’s ending / honey it already did you’re not gonna slow it / heaven knows you tried got it? good / now get inside I haven’t seen the Netflix special yet but I’ve had this song on repeat since my move started. The lyrics hit too hard & resonate with my existential dread, covid exhaustion, and extreme burnout in my 20s, but bc I have Damage I can also relate it to CV ._. ‘you’re not gonna slow it, heaven knows you tried. got it? good now get inside’ makes me think of--;; the bad end route again, and Elizabeth’s desperation to keep her found family together. It’s not like her to completely stop caring about an issue, but in the moment she realizes what’s being taken from her? She doesn’t want to save all of revenant-kind if it means she’s going to wind up alone all over again, her world is effectively over if she’s forced to be alone again. The MC frenzying means the only immediately identifiable hope she had of saving everyone else is gone, so why not just go home? If they’re all doomed, she wants to at least be together for a little while longer, it’s fine if they use her blood to survive & everyone else in the mist is out of luck, it’s soul-crushing bc I’ve never had her in a situation where she’s been this reckless, despondent/hopeless, and thinking irrationally where it’d impact more than herself-- especially when she’s normally goal-oriented, organized, meticulous, so on so forth: she’s not one to act without thinking something through first, but that last breath of light just got sucker-punched out of her. All she wants is home, comfort, and family, and ultimately in the bad end route she does manage to preserve their lives, maintain the mist, and supply blood beads, but her own condition leaves her on the throne-- it’s a mix of the bad, neutral, and true ending rlly ldkfjdf BUT YEAH enough rambling on that :D;; This song’s really good and touches a lot of different thoughts and ideas both in real life and my ocs, kind of embarrassing--;; thank u bo burnham for ruining me with this beautiful song

7. Yellow - Coldplay look at the stars / look how they shine for you / and everything you do your skin / oh yeah, your skin and bones / turn in to something beautiful do you know / for you I'd bleed myself dry Does this song make me think about JackEva? Yes. Yes it does. Star / night sky symbolism? Bam. Sappy lyrics about love and finding the person you’re with absolutely mesmerizing and worth dying for? BAM. If JackEva were capable of using their own blood to save each other, I can see it-- hJNGn they just care about each other so much, Jack cries for her even though they both knew that eventually one of them would succumb to their duty, and if the roles were reversed I can see Eva doing the same, I adore them beyond human language. On my CV RP blog, my Jack’s not shippable bc-- Eva, my friend even have them looking after his nephew (an oc--) at one point. I should seriously drop some headcanons down eventually....

8. Louder Than Thunder - The Devil Wears Prada  are we meant to be empty-handed? / i know i could, i could be better i don't think i deserve it / selflessness, find your way into my heart all stars could be brighter / all hearts could be warmer 

LMFAO throwback to my middle school playlist, I’m old-- I’ve applied this song to a lot of things back in the day, but I really connect it to Loubeth now, especially Louis. Lou & Bethy are both functional idiots who are too hard on themselves & have trouble recognizing their worth beyond what they can do for others. They’re trying to be better-- to make up for what they perceived wrongs they’ve done, but it’s hard, they don’t believe they’re worthy of the love and support the other gives, but they still yearn for that sense of security. After Louis’ memories are returned, he finally understands the guilt he’s felt since he became a revenant and it really skews his self-perception; he blames himself for so many things & Elizabeth, who has always been able to kill when necessary, sets it straight-- “It’s not your fault”, and it takes Louis some time to properly absorb that message. He thinks she’s just trying to comfort him, which she is tbh, but she’s not wrong: “It’s not your fault you couldn’t kill someone. It was never your job to kill anyone.” It’s up to people like her to do those sort of things-- Elizabeth may not have been present when Cruz frenzied, but if she had been? It would have been over before it started, that’s something she has regrets over, even if nothing could have been done since she was already on the field. Actually, she’s actually really quite angry that security failed to monitor Cruz properly and has a few select words for the ones there who could have actually done something before it got out of hand-- civilians and doctors are exempt from her shtlist bc they’re not meant to be killers (so don’t worry Artorias, she’s not ready to bite your head off!), but they had to have some kinda security detail rite o-q??? They’re probably hiding from her wrath-- BUT ANYWAY, she insists she’ll never blame Louis for not being able to do something as serious as killing another person. He was a normal human being who cared about his friend, not a failure, and he couldn’t have been expected to do something that shouldn’t have fallen on his shoulders in the first place. As many times as it takes, she’ll reaffirm that it wasn’t his fault, she’s not angry, he’s always done his best and her opinion of him hasn’t changed. He’s a good person and she loves him through all the hurt, though she doesn’t drop the word ‘love’ for a long time. It just-- takes Louis a while to accept she views him as someone worthy of the love and respect she has for him. It’s kind of ironic she’s so adamant on Louis not blaming himself considering she’s the one privately blaming herself for-- wow there’s too much to unpack, she feels guilty she was even born?? im so broken over these two. I love them and yet they SUFFER... 

9. What I’ve Done - Linkin Park i'll face myself / to cross out what i’ve become erase myself / and let go of what i’ve done today this ends / i'm forgiving what i’ve done

I have Louis Amamiya brainrot and I’m so glad I’m not the only one who thinks that this song fits him super well & it needs to become an AMV dsjfkldsfd. I’m a near life-long Linkin Park fan and this fits with Lou so well thematically. As much as I’ve gone on about Louis’ guilt, he does steel himself to keep going forward in spite of it and make things right, for everyone. Maybe it wasn’t really his fault, but at the end of the day his inability to kill Cruz in that moment left a disaster in its wake that got a countless number of people killed-- the MC included with Karen and Aurora. He doesn’t want to run away from the truth, doesn’t want to make excuses, he wants to take responsibility for it and he’ll work himself to death if it means things will be better-- it’s both admirable he’s got a strong resolve and VERY concerning with how willing he is to die for the cause, please don’t overdo it, Lou, you’ll break mine and Bethy’s hearts ._.;; It won’t always be easy, there are moments the grief gnaws at him, but in the end he does overcome it (and uh. as in the bad ending, we know he can actually do it this time). I know we can’t see everything, but I would have loved deeper character interactions, especially with Louis with an emphasis on grieving + forgiving himself properly-- but this song really is nice with the whole ‘I’m going to face my mistakes head on, forgive myself, and keep moving forward’. It’s what Louis deserves: self forgiveness and a damn break ‧º·(˚ ˃̣̣̥⌓˂̣̣̥ )‧º·˚

10. Call of Silence - Hiroyuki Sawano you will know you're reborn tonight / must be rough but i’ll stay by your side even if my body's bleached to the bones / i don't want go through that ever again so cry no more / oh my beloved ngl idk if those are the correct lyrics, buuuuuuut....... im a weenie and am internally weeping abt loubeth after midnight, what else is new lmfao- i’ll at least try to be brief :D I also used to really like Attack on Titan when I was in high school, I dropped the anime years ago because I was waiting for s2 and never got back to it once it started airing again, I thought I’d finish it once the anime was complete since I eventually caught up with the manga, such a good series BUT ANYWAY-- I think it’s a really pretty song and Loubeth fit with the tender lyrics. IT’S LATE, idk what to say about them other than what I’ve said already dsklfjdslf im sorry I really ramble a LOT and I’ve been so busy lately I haven’t had the chance to >w>;;