#writing romcoms

[emilyzipps]

how do you build up the tension between two characters without dragging it out or jumping the gun by rushing it?

This is a great question! I mostly write romance/romcoms so I'm going to answer this about building romantic tension, but I'm guessing it works for other kinds as well.

As always, please feel free to reblog or comment with your thoughts, suggestions, disagreements!

The first thing that comes to mind for me is to think about all of the ways they're going to show their progression into the romance--their relationship milestones--and make sure they're spread out in a way that feels balanced and good.

In a romance, the things you're aiming for as relationship milestones will vary depending on what type of book you're writing. If it's a steamy enemies to lovers story, the sex will start pretty early into the book, so the will-they-or-won't-they isn't about sex, it's about feelings. The big milestones in that case might be things like

admitting attraction

hooking up

sex

first feelings of romance (you shove them under a rug)

first feelings of romance (you admit to yourself you have them)

first time testing out if they like you as more than an sex partner

first time admitting you liiiiike them

first time them admitting they liiiiike you

love confession/happily ever after

On the flip side, a slow burn friends to lovers (no steam), it may be things like

noticing she's pretty

touching hands by accident on the bus

touching hands ON PURPOSE on the bus

lingering stares

staying up all night talking

picking her up from a date with someone else and being so sad

trying to date someone else

spending the night together AS FRIENDS

erotic hair braiding

happily ever after

Once you think through what some of those milestones will be for your story and your characters, then you can figure out how you want to spread those out throughout your story. Tension comes in the spaces between those milestones and in yearning for the next one, so you need to give space for each milestone to (a) be exciting! (b) be celebrated (or feared or repressed or whatever) and (c) get old enough that we're pining for the next one. That's why you go from touching hands by accident to being brave and terrified and anxious when you decide to do it on purpose.

With the right build up--the pining for the feel of her smooth skin against yours, the noticing how her hands look, day dreaming about her fingers, picturing yourself touching her hand a million times, barely breathing--finally touching her hand on the bus can be as emotionally resonant as sex or a love confession.

consider each milestone as a small emotional climax (sex jokes are welcome and frankly appropriate), and treat it in the way you'd treat the big story climax.

The other thing I'm thinking about is the disconnect between what they say/show and what they think. In my debut novel, the first time Alice sees Van, her inner monologue is immediately like OMG GIRL HOT!!!! THIS BUTCH IS STUNNING AND SMELLS SO GOOD I WANT HER TO TOUCH MEEEEEEEEE. What she actually says out loud is more along the lines of "hi, nice to meet you, i'm your brother's formerly secret girlfriend."

That creates tension because the reader then (hopefully!) thinks, oh wow, how long can Alice keep it together when she's such a bisexual disaster? How long can she go without revealing how badly she wants Van to jump her?

Here's a little map of our milestones and interior/exterior:

first meeting. Alice thinks: GIRL HOT. Alice says: hi i am dating your brother??

first flirt. Alice thinks: if she touches me i'm going to fucking lose it (complementary). Alice says: thanks for the ride home, your dog is cute.

first admit you like each other. Alice thinks: i want to never leave her house or her presence. Alice says: you should be really proud of the life you've built here.

first cuddle. Alice thinks: i'm going to die. i'm actually, physically going to die under this snuggie. this girl is so hot and kind and i'm obsessed with her oh my GOD. Alice says: your mom seems nice.

Those are kind of silly examples, but I hope it helps to be able to see that we're waiting for her inner monologue to match her actions, and the stakes for both get higher and higher as they move through the milestones until the moment when she (a) says what she's thinking, and (b) gets what she wants. Aka, HAPPILY EVER AFTER, BABY.

thoughts, feedback, other suggestions, questions? bring them!

[lotus-pear]

saw the labru trend and IMMEDIATELY thought of them

[mischievous-thunder]

Wade's saucy encounters with different Logan variants:

Then comes Wade's first meeting with his soulmate:

And that's the one Wade fell in love with

[teddybeartoji]

when co-worker!toji finds a cupcake, a note and a small paper flower on his table when he comes back from his break, he’s more than confused. he hasn’t told anybody about his birthday because he doesn’t even care about it in the first place and he doesn’t really care for the people at the office other than you either, so— 

you. 

his green eyes scan the room but he notices that you’re missing from behind your desk, he slowly slumps down onto his chair. he gnaws on his scarred lip as if he’s a little nervous – he’s used to just spend the new year’s eve with shiu and his family, and while they always gift him something nice, a little too nice even, to toji, his birthday has lost its meaning almost completely. 

he thinks this is too nice, too. 

sure, you’ve been working with each other for a good couple of months now and he gets along with you the best out of everybody here, he really can’t imagine why you’d go out of your way to get him something. hell, he doesn’t even know how you know it’s his birthday in the first place.

he eyes the cupcake and the little note beside it. and the flower. 

did you– did you make that for him? 

no way. 

…right? 

gently, he takes the small thing and places it right under the monitor, right where he can see it at all times. he doesn’t know how to describe the feeling inside him, right behind his ribcage, as he looks at the gift with his furrowed brows but it sure is something new. something he hasn’t felt in a very long time. 

next, he takes the note into his hand and glances around the office to make sure that nobody has noticed what he’s doing. they haven’t, and toji finds himself in a new type of a bubble – one that you’ve crafted just for him. 

it’s definitely your handwriting, he has seen it before. it’s a very simple ‘happy birthday toji’ with a very small heart next to his name and oh, how stupid he feels. what do you mean a doodle is making him feel giddy? 

this is ridiculous; he is a grown man, he doesn’t get giddy, he doesn’t— 

“i hope the flower wasn’t too weird.”

toji isn’t easily scared, it’s almost impossible to catch him off-guard like that, and yet, right now, his eyes are wider than ever. your voice is barely a whisper, most likely just so you wouldn’t attract any unwanted attention, but toji hears you loud and clear. 

he swallows the lump in his throat before pushing himself off the chair but since he didn’t realize you were so close behind him and you didn’t realize he’d stand up for you, he ends up grabbing onto your arms, so you wouldn’t fall over. 

“sorry…” you bite your lip and bat your eyelashes at him. he thinks he’s going to die. 

 “how’d you know?” 

he drops his hands to his side but he doesn’t move away and neither do you. 

“what, that today is the big day?”

he squints his eyes at you and you laugh. “okay, the small day.”

a ray of sun peeking in through the blinds. a warm light kissing his cheeks. you make the stupidest jokes. and he will always listen. 

“it’s a secret.” 

toji clicks his tongue.

“why?”

“why is it a secret?” 

“why’d you buy me stuff?” 

to a stranger, it’d probably sound like he’s interrogating you. but you know it’s just because you managed to surprise him. you, too, feel a little giddy now. 

“i didn’t buy you anything.”

his brows furrow again while your smile grows bigger.

“i made them, silly. and ‘why’ you ask?”

you don’t miss the slight flush that now adorns the apples of his cheeks. 

“because i wanted to. simple as that.”

[starkenobi]

Stupidly in Love | Bucky Barnes x reader

masterlist — warnings: mcu; avenger!reader; misunderstanding; idiots to lovers; romcom; fluff.

Summary: Y/N agrees to help Bucky win Natasha's heart. No problem, right? Except for the fact that Natasha is her best friend and Bucky is her crush. Where the hell had she gotten herself into?

Y/N didn’t know how she ended up in that situation. Okay, frankly, deep inside she knew. She had dug her own grave. Just didn’t imagine it would be so damn deep. Who’d have imagined that approaching her crush would automatically result in that kind of misfortune? It sounded way too much like those awful teenage movies. But here she was, agreeing to help her crush to go out with her best friend.

Look, in her defense, she panicked. She should have confessed right there, but she chickened out. C'mon, it's Bucky Barnes she's talking about. The famous Winter Soldier, Captain America's best friend and one of the greatest Avenger's spy. Of course, she could hold her ground just fine too, even getting the nickname of Avenger's golden wildcard. But was it enough? Sometimes she didn't think so.

She was doomed.

It all happened so fast. She was in the library studying for her next mission when Bucky appeared in all his glory, approaching with determined steps. And then there was her, with doe eyes, trying to assimilate the whirlwind of words that escaped from Bucky’s lips. She was caught off guard, with her crush before her speaking so passionately... What should she do, say no? Probably, unfortunately, her brain crashed, and fifteen minutes later, she was running toward the shooting range, where she knew her best friend was. But when Y/N came on the range and saw Natasha practicing with some shield agents, she felt completely lost. Y/N could imagine what Natasha's reaction would be, but the broken brain and the heart hammering in her chest made her believe that she should keep to herself.

Of course, the secret didn’t last long. She couldn’t hide anything from Natasha, in fact, she’d never be able to hide what was happening even if she could. Bucky was even closer. He started to dedicate his spare time to her. Y/N thought it was strange, but Bucky never asked about Natasha's preferences and tastes. In fact, they spent their time together talking about her and Natasha's early friendship before the Avengers. Sometimes it was even possible to forget the reason the two became closer. But after a week, Natasha confronted Y/N. Slamming her hands on the table and pushing Y/N's book aside, Natasha stared at her with narrowed eyes.

“What the hell is happening? Are you two together? What are you hiding from me?”

Y/N swallowed hard, feeling her heart drop as she stared into her best friend's eyes. But as soon as she understood Natasha's questions, she frowned in utter confusion.

“What? What are you talking about?”

“C’mon, it’s me! You don’t have to lie to me.”

“But- Wait, is this about me and Bucky? We’re just friend-”

Natasha groaned, cutting her off. “Everyone is commenting on the fact that you two are glued to their hips!”

“What?”

“Don't “what” me. Am I your best friend or not, dude?”

Y/N nipped her lip, averting her eyes from her best friend's intense expression. This is it. Now was the moment that she’d have to confess the real reason Bucky had officialized their friendship, that her long crush was actually into her best friend. That she was utterly fucked up. Natasha raised an eyebrow at Y/N, folding her arms and waiting impatiently for an answer. The tension between them was palpable and Y/N, hanging her head low, whispered.

“Bucky asked for my help so he could ask you out.”

After a minute of silence, Y/N looked up confused by the lack of reaction. Only to watch Natasha burst into a fit of hysterical laughter.

“Fuck, that was a good one. For a moment I thought-”

Y/N's voice boomed. “I’m serious!”

Casting an accusatory glance toward Natasha, Y/N got up and disappeared into the hallways before Natasha could follow her. Over the next few weeks, Y/N did what she thought was best: avoid both Natasha and Bucky. But speaking the truth, after her fight with Natasha, her best friend made no effort to look for her either, staying by Clint's side. During the first days after the discussion, Bucky tried in all ways to approach Y/N, but after receiving several cold shoulders, he stopped trying and decided to just watch from afar. She felt like a fool, but at the same time, was completely confused and afraid to have a broken heart. Y/N realized that it wasn’t just a simple crush. She cursed herself, how could she fall in love when the situation was clear enough? Right in front of her fucking salad.

The compound was big, and over the years it became even bigger. But that didn’t stop the story from spreading faster than fire. Everyone was talking about the turmoil between the three greatest spies.

“Wait.” Y/N frowned, interrupting Tony's gossip. “What do you mean by three greatest spies?”

Tony looked at her as if she had grown a second head. “You really don’t know what's happening, do you?”

“What should I know?”

Tony gaped at her. “Dammit, wildcat! What have you been doing in the last two weeks and a half?”

“Honestly? I have no idea.”

As an excellent observer, Tony chuckled “You’ve been trying to avoid those two so hard that you closed yourself to the rest of the world.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, but deep down she knew her friend was right. Slumping her shoulders, she sighed. “I'm an idiot, Tones.”

The thing is, Y/N was so determined to avoid everything, that she didn’t know of the fight during the last mission. More precisely, the fight between Clint and Bucky. And unlike the rumors, yes, Bucky didn’t accept very well all the gossip, but people who were there claim that Clint punched Bucky while howling something about him being a player.

“And if your little head is thinking that Clint was defending Natasha's honor. You're wrong.” Tony said smugly, a huge smile on his lips as he watched Y/N’s reaction closely.

“Oh?”

“It was because of you.”

Y/N narrowed her eyes. “What? But we're not even close!”

“So Natasha didn't tell you?”

And once again, after long weeks, Y/N was running toward the shooting range. With red ears and an annoyed look, she marched across the place until she was in the seating area. Clint was the first to notice her presence but not fast enough to stop Y/N from knocking Natasha down. No one knew how to react, watching in silence as Natasha pushed Y/N off, but only to throw a punch against her. They didn’t know why they were fighting, but with all the energy and lack of communication, the others had to step in.

“Enough!”

Clint's order fell into the void, Y/N struggled trying to get away from the other agents.

“You're a hypocrite, Romanoff!” Y/N roared with an accusatory glare.

“So that makes you a chicken!”

Natasha hissed back, but before things got worse, Clint's voice boomed. “I said enough!”

Ten minutes later, Y/N and Natasha were sitting on the avengers’ louge. Clint stared at them with his hands at his waist, a slightly annoyed expression on his face. He didn’t like to see the two best friends fighting over nothing.

“So?” realizing that neither of them would speak, Clint sighed exhausted “Look, Y/N, we’re not close friends but I like you. You're a good person. And that’s why I did what I did.”

“Thanks, but I know there's more than that.”

Natasha grunted displeased, running her hand through her hair before facing Y/N. “We’re together, I mean, Clint and I.”

Y/N scoffed. “Tell me something I haven’t found out through someone else.”

“I didn’t say anything before ‘cause we were just secretly fuck buddies.”

After a few minutes in silence, Y/N broke the tension with a burst of laughter, making Natasha and Clint exchange confused looks. But at the same speed as she began to laugh, in a heartbeat she was serious again and got up from the sofa.

“I can’t believe you said all that shit, when you were the one doing something behind my back!” Y/N hissed, pointing an accusatory finger towards Natasha.

“Well, what did yoy want? You were spending all your free time with him!” Natasha hissed right back, getting up as well but being stopped by Clint's hand on her shoulder.

Hearing the Natasha's words, Y/N’s angry expression quickly softened. “Wait, you're jealous?”

With a pinkish hue to her cheeks, Natasha scoffed. “No? No!”

“Yes, she’s totally jealous.”

Natasha glared at the archer. “Clint!”

“What? I’m tired of this fight.”

So, the power duo was back again. And Y/N started to explain in detail the day Bucky sought her out for help, the free time they spent together talking about everything and at the same time nothing. Clint and Natasha exchanged glances, everything making more sense. In the end, Y/N was completely oblivious and Bucky, and Winter Soldier was a damn coward.

Natasha and Clint decided that they wouldn’t say anything, for the time being, preferring to let Y/N vent and then get some dinner together. But after a few days, Natasha noticed that although things had returned to normal with Y/N, the idiot she calls best friend continued to ward off Bucky like a plague. A little uncertain, Natasha decided to talk with Steve for advice - the Captain was away for a long three months mission. But it didn’t take long to get a response from him, unfortunately, the message contained only two words: ask Sam.

Natasha sighed in defeat as Clint took the phone of her hands to read. Of course, Steve would push the problem (Bucky being stupid) to Sam, he was the best to solve this kind of bullshit (even if he didn’t like to admit it out loud).

Clint returned her phone, stole one of Natasha's toast and took a big bite before teasing his girlfriend. “You're o cute when you're worried.”

“Now isn’t the time to flirt and that’s my toast!”

Clint waved his hand dismissing Natasha. “Whatever, I'm already two steps ahead of you.”

Natasha scoffed. “How so?”

“I talked to Sam yesterday during our recon mission, we already have a plan.” the archer smiled smugly, stealing a sip of Natasha's coffee. “We locked Bucky and Y/N in the old lab on the east wing.”

“You WHAT?”

Y/N didn’t know how she ended up there. Sam invited her to see an old lab he had found that it could become hers, or so she thought. And to say that Sam Wilson could be 100% trustworthy. Now she's stuck in a room... With Bucky. A fucking cliché. And, maybe, a terrible nightmare. The two remained silent, avoiding eye contact and trying to dissociate from the awkwardness. They were embarrassed, but for completely different reasons. The words Sam said before leaving echoed in Y/N's head: If you wanna get out, better start talking. And it seemed that the more she thought about it the harder it seemed to be. Y/N nibbled at her bottom lip, sitting by the window, she could see Bucky's reflection sitting in one of the tables behind her. She wanted to tell everything to Bucky, but she didn’t have the guts. It had been 30 minutes, and Y/N could only imagine the worst scenarios.

She didn’t want to have her heart broken, no matter how much it hurt her to deal with what she felt for Bucky. Natasha was right, she was a chicken. But it wasn’t fair that her friends joined forces to put her in that situation.

“Y/N I need you to stop overthinking for a bit.”

Bucky's voice sounded so smooth, almost a whisper if it weren’t for the quiet room. Y/N looked up and turned slightly to glance at the tables, but instead, she found the super soldier standing closer, a shy smile on his lips.

Having the attention he wanted, Bucky sighed. “Hello.”

“H-hey, I'm sorry for-”

Y/N started nervously, wincing slightly for stammering, but Bucky quickly interrupted her. His voice softer, if that were possible. “That’s fine. Actually, huh, Tony warned me.”

She stared at him with big eyes, feeling her ears warm, she scoffed in disbelief. Sam and Tony were so dead. But none of that made sense. Why would her own friends do something like this? And warn Bucky about it but lie to her?

“You're overthinking again.”

“Why?” Bucky frowned, but Y/N didn’t wait for answers and pressed on. “Why did you agree to their plan?”

Bucky didn’t say anything immediately, deciding to kneel so he could look her better in the eyes. “Isn’t that obvious?”

She replied in a small voice. “No?”

He breathed out "cute" before moving closer and resting one hand on her knee. They were both so nervous, but now they couldn’t back down. Bucky could no longer ignore what he felt, not after knowing Y/N felt the same.

“I fell in love with you.”

She gasped at those words, her lips parted like she wanted to respond and finally gush everything she felt for Bucky. Y/N shook her head trying to form a coherent sentence, but she got distracted by Bucky's huge smile, eyes shining with adoration.

“I know.” Bucky whispered softly, taking Y/N’s face in his hands as if it was the most delicate flower. Then he inclined his head slightly so their lips were close enough that Y/N's warm breath mixed with his. “You can say it later, but I really want to kiss you now.”

Y/N felt as if her heart was going to explode, she nodded her head but quickly pressed her mouth to Bucky’s soft lips. It was better than she had dreamed. And she had dreamed way too many times about kissing Bucky.

The spell was suddenly broken when the door opened abruptly, slamming against the wall. She jumped slightly trying to pull away, but Bucky thought otherwise, deciding to wrap his arms around her waist in a half hug. And when they looked at the intruder, it was none other than Sam.

“That’s enough PDA for today, kids.”

Bucky groaned. “Fuck off.”

”No can do, the others are waiting.” Sam chidded, making no effort to hide his own smile. “Don't wanna be skinned alive by Romanoff, y'know.”

Sam headed toward the door, allowing Bucky to get up off the floor and bring Y/N with him. The two smiled secretly, she took initiative and held Bucky’s hand, wrapping their fingers together as if they've done it for years. Both smiling from ear to ear. Maybe they wanted to do it for so long that it just seemed natural. Bucky kisses her forehead tenderly, walking side by side as if there were no one else in the world. Y/N squeezed Bucky’s hand before finally saying the words with her heart on her sleeve.

“I love you too, in fact, I have for a long while.”

Bucky couldn’t stop smiling. “Yeah, I think I noticed.”

“Oh.”

“And sorry for coming with that terrible excuse. I kind of panicked.”

“What do you mean?”

Bucky stopped walking, turning on his heel so he could face her. “You're really oblivious, huh? I was going to ask yoy out that day.”

She frowned for a moment, but soon wrapped her arms around Bucky's neck, squeezing him. “I hope you take me on several dates and kiss me a lot.”

Bucky laughed at her teasing, noting her flushed face. “Everything you want, but with one condition.”

Y/N pulled away a little so she could look into Bucky's eyes. “Yeah?”

Bucky gave a peck on her lips before whispering. “Be my girlfriend.”

“Hey, lovebirds, can you leave it for later?”

The couple groaned, yet Sam remained unbothered. Maybe he was right and that was enough hot stuff for the curious eyes. But in the end, they didn't care. So, hand in hand, they entered the lounge. All smiles. Why? Well, they were stupidly in love.

comments, likes and reblogs are welcome and appreciated! thank you for reading and supporting my writing 💜

note: english isn’t my first language, and i don't mind if you call me inbox or dm to point out errors or typos. but please be kind!

[rowenaluvr]

✶ . ၄၃ . FLUFFY ROMCOM CLICHES

1 ⧽. getting caught in the rain together

2 ⧽. falling asleep in their shoulder, making them blush and watch the other lovingly

3 ⧽. there’s no more seats in the living room, so one of them has to sit in the lap of the other for movie night with friends

4 ⧽. kissing in the middle of an argument

5 ⧽. feeding the other soup when they get even just mildly sick

6 ⧽. it’s freezing cold and they can’t figure out how to turn on the heat; they’ll just have to share the bed to stay warm then

7 ⧽. needing to kiss the other when they share clothes for the first time

8 ⧽. giving them unabashed heart eyes when they do something cute and getting caught

9 ⧽. tripping, but being caught in the arms of the other

10 ⧽. getting them their favorite food or treat as reconciliation after accidentally hurting their feelings

11 ⧽. sharing a bed without cuddling, but not being able to actually fall asleep until they’re holding each other

12 ⧽. gently placing their jacket over the other’s shoulders when they get cold

13 ⧽. rescuing their crush/partner from unwanted advances

14 ⧽. secretly holding hands under the table for a moment, just because they can’t resist each other

15 ⧽. having nicknames/pet names for each other than no one else is allowed to use

16 ⧽. their crush/partner being the only one who can bring out their playful and sweet side

17 ⧽. carefully bandaging the other’s wounds, even if it’s just a tiny cut

18 ⧽. back hugs in the morning

19 ⧽. finding the other crying at the beach after searching for them for hours, cheering them up, then playing in the sand and shallow water

20 ⧽. finally confessing their love, only to realize the other has fallen asleep right next to them

[nextstopwonderland]

Super important update from Fightful:

“Every night we walk out there and tell them goodnight. He is so in love.”

[pattydia]

k it’s november someone cast kyle gallner in a hallmark movie as the small town mechanic with a heart of gold and a tragic past who teaches the high powered overachieving main character (ayo edebiri) the true meaning of christmas

[royaldollybox]

The heart killers text post part 7 ft. Ep 7

Devine bouts of madness took over me making these

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 8, 9, 10

[loucifersbitch]

When they finally make it to the bedroom, Buck shoves Tommy so that the backs of his knees hit the bed, and he falls back, bouncing a little as he lands. Tommy stares up at him, that smirk on his face, as Buck yanks his shirt over his head, discarding it carelessly to the side.

"See something you like?"

Tommy thinks for a moment, pulling Buck down to straddle his lap. "Hmm, no."

When Buck pulls back, confused, Tommy says, "I see something I love."

[emilyzipps]

okay today was GREAT, i made my calendar, adjusted the timeline of the novel to make more sense, AND wrote 7,000 new words, putting me over the 15k mark.

Finally feeling like I'm in the groove of this new novel, and it feels excelllllllllent.

the vibe of these 7k is:

me: i'm so excited to finally have a whole day for writing!

also me: this is a great time to make a color-coded calendar in microsoft excel and annotate an entire 12 months for this WIP

[romanbridgers]

if tim is writing bucktommy as a love story/romcom we are currently at the all is lost moment - the moment where a seemingly permanent obstacle arises to halt the lovers' journey to a happy ending. it usually involves someone from one of the characters' pasts (often another woman) and misunderstanding.

[eddieblrs]

oh, wait, i've had another thought, hear me out:

AU where tommy never left the 118 and buck never joined the LAFD but maddie still joined dispatch and met chimney during a call, and started hanging out with him like back in S2.

fast forward to maddie bringing buck to a 118 family barbecue and buck instantly clicking with everyone and making friends left and right. he's drinking beers and talking with eddie and tommy when he notices maddie and chim doing their little flirting but not flirting dance and tommy's like "they're always doing that. howie will not stop talking about her but he won't ask her out" and buck starts sharing stories about them dancing around each other and their buffridays and karaoke duets and because they're both hopeless romantics living vicariously through madney they come up with a plan to get them together

cue tommy and buck coming up with ways to set up chim and maddie on date like activities with them as wingmen. they go to the movies and dinner, have an entire day at the santa monica pier, hangout during trivia night at tommy's favourite bar, buck books all four of them a tour and farm-to-table lunch at a vineyard and winery, tommy even flies them all out to vegas for a weekend. and obviously through it all tommy and buck start to know each other more and more and start liking hanging out with each other

they keep coming up with these romantic ideas to finally get chimney and maddie to realise they've been dating this whole time and don't realise (or pretend they don't) that it's looking more and more like double dates and that they're the ones using madney as wingmen because they're too nervous to actually admit they're doing it more for them than for maddie and chim at this point

until one day maddie and chimney go on an actual date of their own without meddling little brothers and best friends and start dating for real and now buck and tommy realise that oh, actually they started catching feelings for each other and don't know what they're supposed to do now that they don't have an excuse to go on elaborate double dates and now it's maddie and chim's turn to get them to accept they had been dating the whole time and they have feelings for each other

[sharpace]

I'm sure everything will be fine.

Super duper loving The Magnus Protocol. My little horror heart is so full.

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[mamawasatesttube]

another addition to the list of fics i would love to see but dont really want to write: timkon "one of them has a crush on the other's secret civilian id without knowing it's them" but it's tim hopelessly pining for conner kent. he has no idea the supers have secret identities at all, let alone who they might be. conner kent is just a normal farmboy (who he happened to meet via convenient circumstances). just a normal kid who lives on a farm with his sweet old country (grand)parents and his rambunctious dog. just a normal guy! ...right?

[thetomorrowshow]

love is such a drag

Chapter one: Scar's first encounter with the angel (and Grian gets to eat ice cream)

welcome to my scariana griande drag college au. this will be quite the ride from start to finish.

~

Scar spots her from across the bar.

It would be hard not to notice her, honestly. Despite the dim, almost cloudy lighting of the room, she glows, as if a heavenly spotlight is set right on her to make it clear that she just descended from heaven.

Scar sneaks glances at her over the fun green umbrella in his drink. She's sitting by herself—an absolute crime, if you ask Scar—, swishing around the little black straw in her drink. Her dark blond hair falls in gorgeous ringlets down around her shoulders, outlining her face the way a pure golden frame would surround only the most beautiful of paintings.

Her nose is small, turned up just a little bit in a peak, the bridge delicate and sparkling with a small amount of angel dust that must be left over from the aforementioned descent. Her eyes are almost comically doe-like, large and accentuated with soft pink eye shadow and long eyelashes. Scar can't quite tell what color her eyes are from this distance (brown, maybe? Black?), but he knows that whatever color they are, they are absolutely perfect.

Her lips are pink to match her eye shadow, glittery, small and pursed, as if her drink isn't near good enough to pass those delicately soft lips.

Scar hasn't even met the woman, but he wants to kiss those lips. He wants some of that angel dust to find its way onto his own lips.

Her cheeks are rosy and full, and her round chin rests on her palm as she casts a bored look around the bar.

Scar downs the last bit of his drink for courage.

He sticks the umbrella in his shirt pocket for good luck.

Then he picks up his cane and saunters over, frantically sorting through every pick-up line in his repertoire—though none of them seem to match the beauty of God's creation before him.

She looks up at him as he approaches, peering at him from under those long lashes, and now he can tell—

Her eyes are grey, but not grey like clouds, or the sea, or the bartop that her arm rests on. Her eyes are grey like the comforter on his mom's bed, like the bricks around the fireplace back in his grandpa's old house, like the silver colored pencil he'd taken all his notes in for a semester to try and prove to Cub that it worked just as well as a normal pencil (it hadn't).

Her eyes are grey like the backdrop of Scar's dreams, the firmament that rests between consciousness and all else.

And then, of course, he's right there.

And she's waiting.

There isn't a single smooth pick-up line in his brain, which is offensive if Scar does say so himself, because he always has words. He could wax poetic about a frying pan for an hour just to annoy someone, but now that his skills are put to the test he can't hold on to his wits long enough to use them.

Goodness gracious, but she's beautiful.

She's wearing something pink and small, a cut-off that reveals a slender torso and adorable bellybutton, the sleeves long and flowy but off the shoulders. Her skirt is a lighter shade of pink, cutting off just above her knees, and it looks like just the kind of skirt that she could spin in and it would twirl along perfectly with her, the kind that sort of looks like a cupcake wrapper.

Scar's always wanted to wear that kind of skirt.

How long has he been staring at her?

"Hi," he manages, readjusting his sweaty grip on his cane. "Um. Come here often?"

She rolls her eyes.

It's breathtaking.

"Sorry, worst line in the book and all that," Scar excuses himself. "Can I order you another drink, then?"

She glances at the half-full drink she's been slowly working her way through. "I'm good, thanks," she says, and Scar nearly swoons.

The angel talked to him!

And her voice! Fluttery, but something deeper underneath! Textured like a symphonic piece of music, as soft as the faux fur carpets in the back of department stores!

She's perfect.

"I'll just cut straight to the point," Scar says, trying valiantly to not feel light-headed. "You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. May I take you out on a date?"

She blinks.

"You don't even know me," she says, leaning back down to take a dainty little sip out of the straw.

"No, but I want to," Scar reasons. "Can I get you anything? Some chips? A little umbrella?"

"The umbrellas come with the cocktails," she scoffs. She flicks her hair over her shoulder and Scar definitely doesn't almost fall over. "I'm not in the mood for a cocktail."

Scar leans forward. "You can ask for an umbrella with any drink," he whispers, winking conspiratorially. "I always do."

"What is it you really want?" she says, sounding almost tired, and Scar puts his hand to his heart.

"I just want to take you out on a date, I swear, nothing else," he says. "Scout's honor."

"Scout's honor?"

"Troupe 2906," Scar says, lying through his teeth. He was never a scout. Well, he did Cub Scouts, but he never made it to Boy Scouts. And he definitely didn't have a troupe. "Once a scout, always a scout."

Almost reluctantly, she giggles (a sound like windchimes softly jangling), then pulls her phone out of the tiny white purse at her side. "All right, fine. What's your name?"

"Scar," he tells her, pulling out his own phone. He unlocks it with a quick swipe, then pulls up a new contact card and trades his phone for the angel's.

"Your phone looks like it got ran over," she observes, picking at the tape on the side.

"If you pull that tape off, it goes dead."

She stops picking at it.

Scar types in his number slowly with one finger, leaning against the bar as casually as he can manage. He's been standing for a minute too long, but he doesn't want to make her uncomfortable by sitting down.

When he's finished, he passes the phone back to her, receiving his own in return.

"I'll text you," he promises.

She laughs again, nods. "Okay."

The way she dismisses him—

The conversation is clearly over, based on the way she turns back to her drink, her lips once again pursed but this time turned up at the corners.

Scar hurries out as fast as his body will allow him, which isn't very fast even on the best days.

Once he's outside, out of view of her, he checks his phone.

The contact is there, ten exquisite digits.

And her name.

Ariana.

-

"Cub, do you mind if I have someone over? I need to opine."

Cub looks up from his laptop, then flinches away when Scar turns on the lights.

"Scar, do you know what time it is?" he gripes, putting a pillow over his face.

"It's not even midnight, mister, so don't pretend like this is late. You're always up at all hours of the morning, anyway."

"Why can't you opine to me?" Cub sighs.

"You don't opine back! I need someone who will wallow on the floor with me."

Scar can practically hear Cub raise an eyebrow. "Ren?"

Scar grins. "Ren. He basically isn't even a guest, since he lives right above us. And it would only be for an hour at most!"

"Fine, fine," grumbles Cub, sitting up and setting his pillow to the side. "Call him. But I have a quiz tomorrow, so this better be quick."

Ren's over within five minutes, a two-liter of diet pepsi in one hand and a bag of candy in the other.

"Leftover Christmas candy, my dude," Ren says, tossing it on the floor. "You said you need to opine?"

Scar carefully lowers himself to sit on the floor, then flops down onto his back, his arms splayed out dramatically.

"Why are we doing this in my room?" groans Cub.

"I've seen an angel," Scar declares, and his heart flutters just the slightest bit.

"Ugh."

"Ooh!" Ren says, sitting cross-legged on the floor. "Tell me more."

"I was at the bar in Aquetown, right?" Scar starts, adjusting his arms to look more dramatic, one thrown over his forehead. "The good one. The quiet one."

"Right," nods Ren. "I know it well."

"And there she was," Scar says reverently. "The angel."

"What was her name? What happened? What did she—"

"Her name is Ariana," Scar breathes, the name as sweet on his lips as he knows her kiss would be. "She's perfect."

"Did you get her number?" Cub asks boredly.

Scar scoffs. "Of course I got her number! We're going on a date."

"Oooo!" Ren teases, slapping his shoulder. "My man has a date with a pretty girl!"

"She isn't just a girl," Scar says dreamily. "She's an angel. You should've seen her, Ren! If God himself turned up and told me that there had been a mistake, that she was supposed to be in heaven, I wouldn't have even blinked! She—"

"Yeah, she's a beautiful angel, we get it," interrupts Cub. "Can you do this in the living room?"

"What color are her eyes?" Ren asks.

"Grey . . . I've never met anyone with grey eyes. Not like those."

"What did she say? Is she into you?" Ren shakes his head. "What am I saying? Of course she's into you! Who wouldn't be?"

Scar. . . .

Scar hadn't even thought about that.

He'd just been so preoccupied with getting a date with such a perfect woman, he hadn't even thought about whether or not she might want one with him.

What if she secretly hates him?

What if she just told him yes to get him to go away?

"No, it's okay," Ren says quickly, patting his arm. "Don't cry! She's totally into you, dude! Don't even worry about it!"

"What if she isn't?" Scar asks, the hand thrown over his head moving to tug at his hair. "What if I was bothering her? What if she gave me a fake number?"

"No, dude, it's not—"

"Scar," Cub says, kneeling down on the floor beside him, "look at me."

There are already tears welling up in Scar's eyes when he looks up, straight into Cub's dark, unyielding eyes.

"Any woman would be lucky to have you," he says seriously. "If she was lying, that's her loss. Got it?"

Reluctantly, Scar nods, wiping away a tear with the heel of his palm.

Cub claps him on the shoulder. "Now get out of my room."

-

"Mumbo! Mumbo, you're never gonna guess—"

"In here!" Mumbo calls from their shared bedroom.

Grian shuts the front door and locks the deadbolt, then dashes down the short hall—past Pearl's empty bedroom—until he arrives at his own room. He shuts and locks that door behind himself as well, then leans against it, hands splayed on the old poorly-painted wood.

"Mumbo," he breathes. "Mumbo, it happened."

Mumbo is lying on his stomach on the floor, sleep shirt riding just a bit up his back from clear readjustments of position. He pushes his laptop a bit away, shuts whatever textbook he'd been studying, and rubs his eyes.

"You look cute," Mumbo says when he's done rubbing his eyes, blinking blearily at Grian. "Is that a new skirt?"

Grian stands up straight for a moment, twirls it back and forth. "Yeah, it's one of my new favorites, I think. Do you like it?"

"Looks great," says Mumbo. "Good show tonight?"

"It was fine, but that doesn't matter!" Grian falls back against the door again, letting himself slide all the way to the floor. "Mumbo, it finally happened. A man asked me out."

"No way!" Mumbo cheers, sitting up. "Like, legitimately? He thought—"

"He thought I was a girl and he asked me out!" Grian says. "This is the best day of my life. Nothing can top this."

"After—wait, after the performance? Or before? Because you think he'd know, after the performance, that it was drag, but maybe—"

"Oh, no, no, no," Grian waves him off. "This was at a different bar. I stopped by that one in Aquetown—you know, the dead one?—just on my way back, to try and get a decent drink before heading home. And he just came over to me—Mumbo, he called me the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen."

"Dude!" Mumbo waves his arms around like Kermit the Frog. "I think—I think we need to celebrate! Break out the ice cream, dude, because it's time to throw a party!"

Grian just breathes slowly, chest lifting and falling dramatically. He feels just like a girl in the movies after kissing her date goodbye, only better. More giddy, if that’s possible.

It's getting late, though. He should probably slip out of his heels, take out his hair extensions, wipe off his make-up, take off his boobs, change into pajamas. . . .

Or he could go eat ice cream in their tiny kitchen with Mumbo and animatedly recount every moment of the night.

Which is how Grian finds himself eating ice cream in their tiny kitchen with Mumbo, animatedly recounting every moment of the night.

"He has a cane," Grian remembers suddenly, halfway through telling Mumbo exactly what he'd said for the third time. "It was one of those old-fashioned ones. With the golden handle?"

"Okay, so he's, like, the rich heir of a mansion," Mumbo nods. "You could do a lot worse. Unless he was old—was he old?"

Grian shrugs. "I don't think so. He looked pretty young—he had a scar across his cheek, actually, kind of like—like this—"

He traces along his own cheek, starting from his jawbone, curving up a bit almost to his nose.

Mumbo frowns. "A scar? I think—"

The front door of the apartment opens, and in trudges Pearl, kicking off her muddy boots.

"Pearl!" Grian says excitedly, holding out his scraped-up plastic bowl, a couple of bites of melting ice cream still left. "We're having ice cream to celebrate!"

Pearl drops her blue backpack on the floor of the living room (right beside the front door, the dead carpet there dividing it from the tiled entrance space that leads into the kitchen). She looks first to Grian, then Mumbo, then the carton of vanilla ice cream on the kitchen counter.

"Sounds like a party!" she says, sticking her hands in her hoodie pockets. "You both look nice!"

"Oh! Um, thanks!" Mumbo says, while Grian does a little spin, his skirt lifting in the air (not that Pearl can see, standing on the other side of the counter as she is).

"A man asked me out," Grian tells her. "While he thought I was a woman!"

"Well, of course he did! You make a very pretty girl, Grian."

"Yeah, but you have to say that. You're my sister. He called me the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen."

"Awww," Pearl coos. She comes around the counter, pulls a chipped bowl out of the dishwasher (used to dry dishes, not wash them) along with a spoon, which she uses to load some ice cream into the bowl before sticking a spoonful in her mouth.

"What was his name?" she asks around the ice cream, words muffled.

Grian frowns. "I don't remember. He didn't write it in the contact. That isn't important, though—he asked me out!"

"Are you going to go?"

Grian freezes.

Is he going to. . . ?

"Oh no," he says, dread pooling in the pit of his stomach. "I—I didn't even think about that."

"Think about what?" Mumbo asks, scraping his spoon along the side of his bowl.

"I don't want to go on a date," Grian says. Oh, this is dreadful! "I just liked the attention! What do I do, Mumbo? I gave him my number and everything!"

Pearl scoffs. "You gave him your number? You're basically required to go on a date with him. If you give a man your real number, it means you're interested."

"Did you tell him you'd go on a date with him?"

Grian cringes. ". . . Maybe?"

"Grian!"

"I can't help it!" Grian defends. "I love flirting, you know that!"

Mumbo covers his face, bowl abandoned on the counter.

"Grian," Pearl bemoans.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. . . ."

"Well, we'd better hope he's a creep!" Mumbo says loudly, face still buried in his hands. "Because then you don't have to feel bad about ditching the date!"

"Was he nice?" asks Pearl.

Grian shrugs helplessly. "I guess? He tried to give me a drink umbrella."

"Oh. So, very drunk."

"No, I think he just wanted me to have one."

"Goodness, Grian. You've got yourself in a bit of a situation," Mumbo says, finally emerging from his hands. He looks into his bowl, frowns at the lack of ice cream.

"Maybe he'll forget about it?" Grian suggests, but his heart isn't really in it.

He doesn't have much hope. Not with the way the man had talked to him. No, he's probably just set himself up for a month of progressively creepier and more disgusting texts until he blocks the man and files a 'do not contact' directive with the school.

Assuming this man is a student.

What if he's, like, an old man? 

Like, thirty?

Okay. This is too much.

Hopefully, he just doesn't text. Then Grian won't have to worry about it. Which won't happen, but he can dream.

"We can talk more about it tomorrow, all right?" Mumbo says, tossing his bowl in the sink. "It's getting late. And G, you should probably put your, er, appendages away."

"My bosom?" Grian says, raising an eyebrow.

"His tittie-tatties?" Pearl suggests.

"My breastily breasting boobs?"

"His badonka donk—"

"Please just get them off the counter."