Colourcodedbinders
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When the bell rings at exactly 8:15 am, just as it does every single day, just as it has every single one for the past three years David’s spent at this job, he can’t help but wonder how, of all the places in the world, he ended up teaching at Schitt’s Creek high school. It’s not that this is the worst job he could’ve had — quite honestly, all things considered, it’s a pretty good gig.The school is at a humble ten minute drive from his apartment, the staff is small enough that he can usually comfortably pick his courses, and David will admit, if absolutely hardpressed about it, that maybe, maybe he finds a modicum of self-satisfaction in being a tenured resident of the Schitt’s Creek High English Department.
But still — 8-fucking-15 am.
OR
David Rose is a high school teacher. A new substitute shows up one day, and it absolutely doesn't ruffle any of his feathers at all. Not even a little. Because he's a seasoned professional.
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The last time she’d seen her was in Beijing, heartbroken, stomping down the tunnel to her locker room at Wukesong Arena, like Alexis had personally stolen the gold medal from her. Like the weeks of sexy, flirty rivalry was as good as dust because she’d lost the last game. By the time Alexis had thought to go talk to her, just a few days later, she’d apparently already made some excuse to fly back out to Canada.
And Alexis, um, gets it? She’d be pretty pissed too, she thinks, if some hot girl took the gold medal from right under her.
It doesn’t mean that Alexis hadn’t been bothered by it. It doesn’t mean she hadn’t gone back home irrationally expecting a call from Toronto. It doesn’t mean she hasn't thought of Stevie Budd an almost pathetic amount of times since.
OR
Alexis and Stevie reconnect at the Olympics after 4 years. David and Patrick meet for the first time.
They all come out of it with something worth its weight in gold.
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“Hey,” Patrick says as he toes off his shoes by her side, leaning down to get them rather than kicking them off like she’d always known him to do, “make yourself at home. Really.”
She nods and watches him disappear down the hall, glancing back only to wave her in as he turns the corner. Once alone, she allows herself a second to take it all in: the fact that she’s in her ex-fiance’s house, the fact that he has a husband, the fact that somehow, against the odds, this is the most he’s ever acted like the version of him she’d fallen in love with, back when she’d first learned how to fall in love at all.
OR
Rachel visits a certain best friend at his new house. She has a lot of feelings about it.
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The pleated piece looks wrong on Patrick in all the ways it drives him crazy on David, who’s tall and lean and astoundingly beautiful in his unwavering confidence. On Patrick, it looks… wrong, like he’s forcefully shoved himself into a costume that was custom made for someone else entirely in the vague hope that it would tell him something about himself. It doesn’t. It doesn’t even come close. Frankly, he hates it.
But.
But there’s the one, flickering thing that crosses his mind as he watches himself, the same sliver of a thought that had been running across his mind for god knows how long and had pushed him to try the damn thing on in the first place.
He looks terrible. But he looks queer.
OR
Patrick has a little bit of self-realization to do. Luckily, he's got a wonderful husband to help him out.
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In standalone parts, the story of seven hugs, and their purposes.
OR
You don't ever really need a reason to hold someone you love in your arms, but here are seven of them anyway.
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Summary
David is quitting.
He’s had enough of working for a photography company with an off-the-books philosophy of "sleaze and cheese", he's had enough of getting forced into assignments at the last minute when the company president decides he's flitting off to party with D-list celebrities instead. He’s quitting. This is, in fact, his last job.
At least it's an easy shoot - a puff piece on some up-and-coming Canadian singer-songwriter on the indie circuit who's just been catapaulted to widespread fame. No complications, no controversy. He'll be in his apartment and wallowing in his bamboo-silk sheets before he knows it.
A PhotographerDavid fic inspired by THAT photo shoot by Vanessa Heins.
Bookmarked by Colourcodedbinders
30 May 2024
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The painting is arresting. A small-scale Helen Frankenthaler meets mixed media. Watery, bright colors bleed over textured fibers. Sand, maybe clay—he can’t tell from this distance—is mixed into some of the paints, lifting them off the canvas. His heart beats a familiar, forgotten thump.
A tale of David and art.
Bookmarked by Colourcodedbinders
26 Sep 2023
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It's the first big snowfall since David moved into his new place, and his new neighbor, Marcy, offers to send her son over to shovel the walk. David is prepared for a school-aged kid. What he gets instead, is Patrick.
Bookmarked by Colourcodedbinders
31 Aug 2023
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Meet David Rose and Patrick Brewer, the two men who were found living on a deserted island for over forty-five days after the Blayze Music Festival went up in smoke.
Documentary filmmaker (town council member, real estate agent, closet organizer, and photographer) Ray Butani has assembled an in-depth, first-person account of one of the more positive outcomes of the fraudulent festival: the romance that blossomed amongst the chaos.
Binge read all eight episodes to learn how getting lost led David and Patrick to find both themselves and each other.
Bookmarked by Colourcodedbinders
04 May 2023
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It’s Friday, for fuck’s sake. David did not have ‘death’ on the agenda for today.
But here he is, on a bus, attempting to steer this twin-axle six-wheeler despite lacking a valid regular license, let alone a commercial one, because to add insult to severe injury, the driver’s been fucking shot and if the speedometer drops below 80 kilometers per hour, said bus will explode.
Because some idiot decided to go ahead and put a bomb on it.
Or, the Speed AU that at least one of you asked for.
- Language:
- English
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- 31,142
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- 1/1
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- 1
- Comments:
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Bookmarked by Colourcodedbinders
01 Mar 2023