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4 stories
Flowers From 1970 - DreamNotFound by ellabailliee
ellabailliee
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~Flowers From 1970~ REUPLOADED
Flowers From 1970 by Flowerss1970
Flowerss1970
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"a dnf (dream not found) fanfic about two boys in different times that will definitely leave you sobbing" Originally written by astronomika
Dear Dream, by nessquickyo
nessquickyo
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"I promise you. I promise I'll come back." He promises, George thinks wistfully. He promises such a thing- to offer George with his word on something, to uphold it. It's as if he's saying that he'll give the world to him, just for him. But somewhere is the lingering thought in George's mind is that he won't come back. That the cruel war that had riddled their land will take him too, and he will be left wonted and worry worn. George shivers at the thought. "You promise?" That you'll come home to me? And as if he heard those unspoken words. Dream beams at him. "I promise. You won't even notice that I was gone, my love." George releases a wet and broken laugh at the cheesy pet name. Dream does too before pulling him back into his embrace. They stay there for a bit. The war can wait. "I promise I'll be waiting." (or, the war au with letters and oscar wilde quotes.) ORIGINAL STORY ON AO3 (@Qekyo)
Heat Waves by tbhyourelame. by deimalol4
deimalol4
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PLEASE do not report this. the original creator is tbhyourelame. This is a copy from a03. If you want to read more and dont want to wait for me to publish more chapters, please register an a03 account :) credits to the author: tbhyourelame. I WILL DELETE THIS‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️ Summary Dream has always held a gentle admiration for George, but when their nuanced friendship trickles into his sleeping mind, he awakens to a new world of conflicting emotions and longing. Lost in the midst of a heat wave, he continuously listens to a song that works itself in to the very core of his heartache. Floridian nights, unsent messages, spiraling infatuation, and terrible, terrible weather. A breath of frustration escapes George's lips. "I don't do that." "You do. It's okay," Dream says. He feels pinpricks of warmth building in his chest. The words rise up faster than he can temper, laced with soft honey, "you're so cute." The call falls silent. They heard it. The affection in the tone of his voice, different than usual, no trace of humor. The way it came from the hearth below his heart, glowing with secrecy and shame-for George, and George only. They had to have heard it. -inspired by the song "heat waves" by glass animals