THE VOTES ARE IN! You guys got to decide what the prompts will be for every day of Smosh Writing Week and here they are!
Day 1, Mon. 7/22 - Soulmate
Is everyone marked with their soulmate’s first words? Do soulmates have matching tattoos that glow when they meet? Can your soulmate see the injuries you sustain on their body?
Day 2, Tue. 7/23 - High School AU
Are they the group of misfits who all sit together at lunch? Are the squad and SG crew in completely separate social groups and are brought together by Ian? Is Shayne the jock and Damien the nerd who has to tutor him?
Day 3, Wed. 7/24 - Angel/Demon AU
Is everyone in the office an angel, working together to fight the demons plaguing humanity? Or is Mari a demon and Wes an angel, both trying to outwit one another while hiding their true identities from their coworkers? How does Joven react when he realizes his longtime friend Lasercorn has been a demon all this time?
Day 4, Thu. 7/25 - Mutual Pining
Is Ian getting sick of Noah and Keith making googly eyes at each other? Does Damien wax poetry about Shayne’s eyes to Boze not realizing that Shayne is doing the exact same thing to Courtney about him? How do Lasercorn and Wes react when they realize they both have liked each other for years?
Day 5, Fri. 7/26 - Greek Mythology AU
Are the Smosh members campers at Camp Half Blood? Is Boze taking the place of the brave Theseus, risking her life to defeat the minotaur in the labyrinth? Maybe Shayne is the son of Zeus, and must become a hero to earn his place in Olympus once more.
Day 6, Sat. 7/27 - College AU
Are Courtney and Shayne partners in chem lab? Maybe Sohinki makes a study group for Spanish 101 just to talk to Mari. Does Joven meet his roommate Wes on the first day and is immediately smitten? Oh my god they were roommates.
Day 7, Sun. 7/28 - Poly!Smosh
This day can be any number of people in any number of relationships. Is it romantic? Is it platonic? You decide!
✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️
Please remember the rules to stick to! I’ve changed a few from the original post so PLEASE REFER TO THESE UPDATED RULES!!!
1. Post on Tumbr and/or AO3, under the tag “SmoshWritingWeek2019”
2. Nothing above an M rating! We want this to be as inclusive as possible!
3. Can involve whatever/as many ships as you, the writer, chooses! That being said, remember every should respect each other’s ships!
4. Each day tag it as “SmoshWritingWeek2019 - Day 1” or “SmoshWritingWeek2019 - Day 2” etc. Just so it’s easy to find!
5. Avoid sensitive topics and possible triggers; again, we want to make this as inclusive as possible.
6. You can skip days, of course, but it is more fun to do everyday!
7. Take literally AS MANY creative liberties as you want! Please do keep in mind these are real life people and while we separate them as real people and as characters for fanon, it is important to make that distinction!
✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️✏️
If anyone has any questions, my inbox is always open! I am also open for more prompt suggestions and constructive criticisms for possible future smosh weeks!
Olivia has been waiting all month to win her crush- and suspected soulmate- over at the annual box social. But after she meets a certain blonde-haired girl at the hall, things don’t go exactly as planned...
Is this technically late? Maybe. Is it not though because I haven’t slept yet and I Say So? Yes. Shut up. (Also, this is mixed soulmate au and 1950′s au because dammit, I really wanted to write 1950′s au.)
It was just about perfect.
Delicate fingertips pressed gently onto the strip of gold wrapping paper, making sure none of the paste underneath it spilled over onto the sections beside it. Smoothing up and down and double-checking for wrinkles, Olivia looked over her work with satisfaction.
She had spent all day on it- painting, cutting and pasting, finding all the odds and ends to tack on after. It was a competition, after all. At least a dozen girls, along with herself, would be at the box social tomorrow. Each one would come with their own projects, which would be lined up along a table in the biggest room in the community center. An arrangement of meticulously decorated shoeboxes; painted, decorated, wrapped, and filled with a hand-made lunch. Looking at her own box, Olivia knew it would be the prettiest there.
The box itself was covered in a smooth coat of deep indigo paint, and speckled with tiny, translucent rhinestones she thought resembled stars. Olivia had cut diagonal strips of glittered golden wrapping paper she remembered leftover from Christmas, and glued two on each side, crossing. She’d painted the lid as well, and used gold metallic paint to produce swirls, spots, and other filigree designs the thought would look elegant, fancy, whatever. She intended to tie it closed with a silver ribbon.
All of the men would be bidding on it tomorrow, she thought with pride. But it wouldn’t matter if they didn’t. She didn’t need them to. She only needed one man to notice it.
Just the thought of Thomas Bailey made her chest feel tight. He’d first approached Olivia at the soda fountain a month ago, all dark chocolate eyes and slicked-back hair and strong, wandering hands. The memory of tinny Motown drifting from the old jukebox and carrying their banter through the whole evening still felt fresh in her mind. She hadn’t been able to forget about him after that. Especially not with the way he looked at her and teased her whenever they’d seen each other since. Her mom called him bad news and her friends called him a frat, but she dismissed them whenever they offered their unwelcome opinions. She just knew he must be interested. And even though the boxes would be anonymous, he’d know which one was hers when the bidding began- She’d told him the other day about her ideas for her box. That was technically against the rules, but she wanted to make sure he would know to pick her.
Absentmindedly, the girl glanced down at her right leg, eyeing the long red mark along her calf. It started above the knob of her ankle, reaching up in a jagged line, stopping just short of where her tube socks stopped covering. She found herself checking it constantly, in the quiet moments at home, as if it might disappear if she left it alone for too long.
It was something everyone learned young when the first strange spots or marks appeared on their skin. If your soulmate had a mark on their skin, it appeared on your own as well. Olivia remembered once as a child when she’d scraped her knee, and ran inside in excitement right after. She’d scanned all the boys in her class. They were all in shorts for summer, and yet not one of them had a blemish on their knee. She’d ran home crying that day, while her mother attempted to console her.
She was less outwardly concerned with finding her soulmate these days, but as the years crept on, she was growing as restless as any other young woman. She paid close attention to every change on her skin, clues to a mystery that held her heart on the edge of its seat, hanging in suspense by a single thread, ready to fall whenever that final sign pointed her in the right direction.
Olivia had woken up a few days ago with this angry red line on her leg. She hadn’t fallen or hurt it herself, and it caused her no pain when she poked and prodded it. Somewhere, she knew, her soulmate was walking about with a matching streak along his leg. She imagined it on Thomas’s lean calf, occasionally even when she saw him in person. She wondered, if she saw his bare leg, if it might be hiding there, evidence of their destined love. Unfortunately for her, it was fall now. All of the boys would be wearing slacks for months yet. That meant that she had no way of knowing for certain if he was her soulmate, at least from this particular mark.
She turned her gaze from her leg, back to the ornate lunchbox on her kitchen table. The gold and silver stared back at her, as if in response to her silent questions. Decidedly, she pushed out her chair and stood, leaving the box to dry overnight, glittered surface twinkling with the midnight moonbeams that filtered through the window panes.
The social was in full swing.
The large event room in the community center was not particularly fancy, but it cleaned up well enough for a social like this. Colorful banners were strung up along the walls in blues and yellows and whites and reds. The old tables were covered in patterned tablecloths, and the metal chairs all had a ribbon or bow affixed to its back in an attempt to distract from its well-used tarnish and wear. A stereo was set up, playing cassettes of teeny-bop, jazz, and songs Olivia had heard many times from the jukebox or radio in the diner or mall.
Some people sat at the table, playing cards or talking casually. Most people were out in the center of the room, mingling or dancing to the music. Olivia skirted the edge of the crowd. Her kitten heels tapped on the polished wood. She scanned the faces, looking for anyone she knew- particularly, a pair of chocolate brown eyes and head of slick, jet-black hair. Every so often, her eyes went back to the auction table.
Her box sat undisturbed, on the long table with a sign that identified it as the “LUNCHBOX AUCTION!”. She had brought it in this morning, wrapped in plain white paper so that nobody would know which one is hers. She had carried it into the community center with a fluttering feeling in her stomach, dressed in her nicest collared dress. The pleated skirt draped down to her knees, and she had a yellow bandana tied under the collar to contrast the green fabric. Her white tube socks were pulled up, concealing the mark on her leg.
“Hey!”
Olivia jumped and turned quickly when someone spoke up right next to her. For a split second, before processing the voice, she thought it might be Thomas. She was admittedly, a tad disappointed to see it was someone else. Instead, it was another girl. She was taller than Olivia, by a couple inches, probably. Her straw-blonde hair reached down to the base of her neck and swept itself in waves. Her blue eyes blinked at Olivia expectantly.
The girl laughed, bright and lilting. Olivia noticed her outfit, then. She wore a nice white blouse with a pink handkerchief tied around the neck, and hemmed slacks that matched the pink of the accent, along with white heels. It wasn’t quite common for girls to wear slacks in their town, but Olivia couldn’t say that the girl didn’t pull it off well.
“It’s fine, it’s fine,” The girl assured her, “I just noticed that you were alone too, so…”
“Right! Um, I’m Olivia Sui,” Olivia stuck out her hand.
The girl took it with a smile, “Courtney Miller.”
Her hands were soft, her grip firm but gentle, adding to the aura of friendliness that the girl- Courtney- seemed to radiate like warmth from a flame.
“Did you make a box?” Olivia asked. She looked back to the table, taking in the line of boxes, wondering which one of them could belong to the girl beside her.
“Oh, no,” Courtney told her, “I’m here because my sister entered. I’m just... hangin’ around, I guess. Did you make one?”
“Yeah! It’s the blue one with the gold on it,” Olivia nodded to the table again.
“Ain’t you supposed to keep it a secret?” Courtney crossed her arms.
“Only around people that are gonna bid,” Olivia corrected her. She didn’t see the harm in telling another girl- it would only be boys bidding, right?
Olivia almost caught something change in Courtney’s expression, then. A sudden twitch of her features. Something unsure, almost pained. But in half a moment, it was gone, and Olivia thought she may have imagined it.
“Right,” Courtney breathed another laugh, but this one was a bit less musical than the last. Olivia felt as if she was missing it. Something about Courtney had her hooked. In what way, Olivia wasn’t sure, but it was something new.
Before their conversation could continue and she could further investigate, Olivia was momentarily distracted. Further into the crowd, her eyes locked onto a familiar face. Thomas Bailey himself was just a few people away from her, talking and laughing. Olivia lit up. The fantasies of the night before blew through her mind in a flurry of excitement.
But in another second, the warmth in her chest was swallowed by a cold, sinking feeling.
She watched the too-harsh yellow light from the ceiling light play across Thomas’s sharp features as he grinned, laughed- and placed a hand on Linsey Ghallager’s waist.
Her face must have betrayed her shock. Courtney looked at her in confusion, then turned to follow her gaze. When she saw Thomas, she looked between the two a couple times, before seeming to realize what was happening.
“Oh my gosh,” She said, “Is that…”
Olivia didn’t know what she would have said, but it didn’t matter. They were interrupted by a voice over the stereo system.
“Alright folks, it’s about time for the auction to begin!”
The auction was a blur.
The whole time, Olivia felt like she was on autopilot. It was like all of her mental processes were dedicated entirely to trying to make sense of what she had just seen.
Thomas had spent the past month teasing, flirting, leading her on. She could still feel his hands on her hips, his breath in her ear, the time they almost kissed. Now, part of her felt glad they never had. At least that, she had saved.
It wasn’t until the very end, that Olivia realized her box was the only one left. It was at the end of the line, and the last one to auction. That fact made her disconnected moping cut clear through to panic, as she noticed as well that Thomas was one of the few who hadn’t bid on a box yet. Even if he didn’t remember her description, he would know for a fact that the last box must be hers. He was going to bid.
Olivia felt her chest seized with anxiety. The mental image of spending the next hour sharing her lunch with him had brought her such joy just a few minutes ago. Now, it made her want to be sick. He smiled at her, and she averted her gaze.
“We’ll start the bidding for this lunch at one dollar- do I hear one dollar?”
“One dollar,” Thomas raised his hand. Olivia curled her fingers around the struts of her chair. Her nails dug into a bit of rust, but she didn’t notice.
“One dollar going once,” The auctioneer called, “One dollar going twice-”
“Two dollars!”
Another voice rang out- and it wasn’t one Olivia had expected. Not a man’s voice at all. It was newly familiar, brighter, and sweeter than anyone who had bid so far.
Sure enough, Courtney had stood from her seat near the mid-back of the hall. Everyone turned to look at her. Their expressions ranged from amused, shocked, and disapproving, but Courtney didn’t seem to notice them. She had one hand raised like Thomas’s was, holding two dollar bills between her fingers.
“Two dollars twenty-five,” Thomas glowered at Courtney. He didn’t know what she was doing, but he wasn’t going to be outdone.
“Two dollars fifty,” Courtney locked eyes with the boy. Her soft, stormy-ocean eyes were much different than Olivia had seen her just minutes before. Her gentle demeanor had been put away, and she was instead dressed now in stock-still defiance, shoulders squared, gaze like icy blades. Even her posture felt like a challenge.
Thomas, comparatively, was beginning to look unsure. She’d cracked the armor.
Regardless, he pushed- “Two dollars seventy-five.”
Courtney hardly reacted.
“Three dollars.”
When Thomas didn’t react immediately, the auctioneer began again to count.
“Three dollars going once…. Three dollars going twice…”
Olivia saw a range of emotions pass over Thomas, which settled finally into resigned shame. He lowered his hand and stuffed it into his pocket.
“Three times- Sold! To… the lady in pink?”
Even the auctioneer seemed off-put by the suddenly intense mood. Thomas sat back down, refusing to look at Olivia or acknowledge Courtney. Olivia felt stunned herself. She looked at Courtney- the girl who she’d only met twenty minutes ago, who she barely knew, and who had just spent almost an entire paycheck’s worth of money to save her from an awkward date. She saw that Courtney’s hostile facade had dropped. She smiled sheepishly at Olivia with a shrug. At a loss for words, Olivia stood and picked up her box. Courtney met her at the auction table. The two looked at each other.
“...Want to have some lunch?”
Courtney laughed, and this time it was full and melodious.
“Oh, wow…”
Olivia opened up her box, and Courtney looked inside with surprise.
In an attempt to impress… him… Olivia had cooked some special things from her mother’s cookbook. She’d hoped that it would be exciting. But now, she was afraid that it was maybe too foreign. It wasn’t typical Chinese-restaurant food, after all. She’d packaged dishes of cold noodles and had packed mason jars with smaller things like edamame, tofu, and pork.
“I’m- I’m sorry,” Olivia began to apologize, “This may be kind of different- you don’t have to eat it if you don’t want to, I don’t mind-”
“No, no, It’s fine!” Courtney shook her head, but Olivia just felt so overwhelmed. She leaned over and put her head in her hands.
“I’m sorry,” She sighed shakily, unable to come up with anything more. Courtney frowned at her. The blonde was at a loss of what to do. Then she looked back in the box.
“Hey, Olivia!”
Olivia turned her head back up. What she saw was Courtney, who had taken a pair of chopsticks from the inside of the box, and held them under her top lip so that they stuck down over her chin.
“I’h thi’h how yuh u’h theshe?” She struggled around the chopsticks. She held out her hands like a magician that had just finished a trick and was prompting for a reaction.
Olivia stared at Courtney. Then she broke out laughing.
Courtney laughed, too, and clumsily caught the chopsticks as they fell out of her mouth. The frustration and sadness from earlier still hung in Olivia’s chest, but it was lost at least for a moment in their fit of giggles.
After they had both stopped laughing and Olivia had actually set out the food, the reality of the situation had finally settled comfortably as it could for her.
“I still can’t believe you did that,” She shook her head. Courtney waved her off.
“I couldn’t let you end up having to have lunch with that guy, after what he did.”
“But three dollars,” Olivia insisted, “That’s way too much!”
“It’s fine,” Courtney shrugged, “I’ll make it back.”
“I at least owe you a favor.”
“Okay, okay,” Courtney put her hands up in surrender.
Olivia picked up her chopsticks, satisfied with her victory, and popped a slice of pork into her mouth. Courtney watched her, then looked back down at her own plate.
“...Alright,” She said after a moment, “Really, though- you’re gonna have to show me how to use these things.”
Olivia snorted.
The next hour was spent talking, laughing, forgetting about Thomas, and teaching Courtney how to use chopsticks.
By the time they finished their lunch, much of the rest of the crowd had left, and Olivia was feeling much more lighthearted than before.
Thomas was nowhere to be seen, and she found herself happy with that fact. And, in a way, she was glad that she’d seen what she had, if only because it had lead to her having lunch with Courtney instead of him. She’d found Thomas attractive, sure. But the longer she looked at Courtney, the more she found slight differences.
Thomas had caught her attention for his arms, his hands, his eyes. But Courtney caught her in other ways. Her body was beautiful, for sure- but so was her voice, her laugh, the way she moved. And while Thomas kept her interested like a good song, Courtney kept her interested like a good book. Every time she moved further, she found something new that drew her deeper in. It was more captivating, more exciting, and a part of Olivia objected to the fact that these feelings were directed towards a girl, but a louder part reveled so freely in them that the other was lost in waves of rosy cheeks and stormy-blue eyes.
“I’m sorry you had to deal with that,” Courtney said as the two of them left the building. Olivia pulled her coat back on as the autumn breeze surrounded them. She looked up at Courtney, seeing how the bright pink of her clothes and pale blonde of her hair contrasted the warm colors of the leaves and yellowing grass around them.
“It’s fine,” Olivia sighed, “I mean, at least it ended well, right?”
Courtney flashed her blinding smile once again.
“Right. I was thinking, actually-”
Courtney was interrupted when her heel suddenly caught a break in the sidewalk. She yelped as she fell, and hit the concrete on her hands and knees.
“Oh my gosh!” Olivia gasped.
“I’m okay, I’m okay!” Courtney said, but she hissed a bit through her teeth. She sat back, pulling up her knee and looking at it. The fabric had torn, and crimson peaked through the hole.
“No, you’re bleeding!”
“It’s just a scrape,” Courtney persisted, “It’ll be fine.”
Olivia watched her pull up the leg of her pants. At first, she looked closely at the fresh blood. But then her attention was pulled down- to Courtney’s right calf.
Starting just above the knob of Courtney’s ankle, a bright red mark, reaching up in a diagonal line. Her breath caught in her throat. Courtney quirked an eyebrow at her.
“It’s really not that bad-”
“No,” Olivia pointed, “That…”
Courtney followed her hand.
“That? I got that a couple days ago, scraped my leg on a car door.”
Wordlessly, Olivia reached down and pulled down her sock. And as she revealed the matching line on her leg, the rosy mark of a scrape began to form on her knee as well.
Courtney now shared Olivia’s breathless expression.
Every fantasy Olivia had pictured with Thomas was rewritten in an instant. Her heart fluttered in her chest.
She had found her soulmate.
She had always wondered what she would do or say when it finally happened. Now that the moment was here, she had no idea what to do or say at all.
Courtney let her pant leg fall back down, and climbed to her feet. Then, she broke into a wide smile, toothy and ecstatic.
“Wow…” She said softly, but not disappointed or upset- she sounded elated.
“Wow,” Olivia agreed.
Courtney thought for a moment.
“Y’know how you said you owed me a favor?” She brought up suddenly. Olivia nodded.
“How about you give me a second date?” Courtney offered, “Tomorrow, maybe?”
Olivia blinked. Even the word ‘date’ made her shiver. Then, with Thomas, and Lindsey Gallagher, and the indigo box with the golden wrapping paper and the translucent rhinestones that looked like stars sitting forgotten on a table in the dance hall, Olivia grinned.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Smosh
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Characters: Kimmy Jimenez, Damien Haas, Keith Leak Jr, Noah Grossman, Ian Hecox, Courtney Miller, Mari Takahashi, Jovenshire, Olivia Sui, Lasercorn, Wesley Johnson
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - High School, High School, SmoshWritingWeek2019- Day 2, SmoshWritingWeek2019
Summary:
Smosh, the local high school drama club, receives new direction and new students for the upcoming school year.
Happy Day 2 of SmoshWritingWeek2019! Tried my hand at writing High School AU hope y’all enjoy. And yes, this is posted on ao3! I’ll post on here if needed as well. :)
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
realized i should've posted this earlier when i actually put it up on ao3, but.... have this damicorn soulmate au!!! where you see how dangerous your soulmate is based on a mark you get on your wrist
The amount of extremely positive feedback on everybody’s fics!
The fact that SO MANY PEOPLE participated on Day 1
The idea that someone who didn’t know this was happening probably searched up the smosh tag on ao3 and was super confused by the amount of soulmate au fics today
