#Simon and Baz are having a stupid fight

[blackberrysummerblog]

Happy Easter to all of you who celebrate! After a rotten Friday at the animal shelter where I work, I got a very pleasant surprise yesterday when a pregnant stray who came in gave birth to five live and healthy kittens! I might share some pics later on :) In the meantime, thank you @forabeatofadrum and @you-remind-me-of-the-babe for the tags this morning, as well as everyone else who’s continued to tag me on other days. I’ve been pretty slow writing lately, but I do have some shares this week!

First, a bit of kid!Baz POV from my COBB:

In the afternoons, I do my homework as soon as we get home and sometimes call my father. He never has much to say. I’ll offer to help Dev with his work and then water the herbs in the conservatory, reminding myself of the names and uses of each one. Dogtooth violet to stop gossip, bay leaves for wish making and prophetic dreams. Tarragon for confidence, St. John’s Wort to stave off colds and fevers. Basil can drive off dark spirits. I rub the leaves between my fingers, remembering Ebb’s lessons as the fresh summer scent breaks across my skin. “Basil can dispel confusion, boys. It turns back fear and weakness, and is used in exorcisms. Carry it with you to protect yourselves from danger, or spread it on the ground to keep away evil. It’s also sometimes used to bring lovers together.” Dev had elbowed me and sniggered, because of course we both associate the herb with my name. I don’t see how any of it relates to me, but it doesn’t really matter. It’s just what I’m called.

And the next is from a sequel I suddenly started writing to Field Trip of Dreams (god I still hate that that’s the title I gave it). I wouldn’t say it’s necessary to read the first fic, although it gives context for the fact that Baz and Simon are dating in eighth year, and everyone but the Mage knows it. It’s a longish share, but I’m enjoying writing so have it:

“Isolation Cabin?” Basilton is repeating in disbelief. His eyes narrow. “But Sir, whatever will we do if we get to talking and discover we were separated at birth?”

Simon understandably pales, but Davy merely snorts and waves a dismissive hand. “Unlikely, Mr. Pitch. Now, both of you grab your rucksacks while I conjure a bird to lead you to the cabin. It’s…out of the way.”

The rest of the students are in fits, but of course Davy doesn’t notice. He pays attention to nothing and nobody when he thinks he’s in the right. Simon has shouldered his own pack and is staring into the middle distance, refusing to look at anyone. Of course, Natasha Pitch’s son has to get in one last dig: “What’s next, a get-along shirt?”

Basilton’s unimpressed expression is fooling no one—I know blessed well that he’d only love that. “Davy,” I try one last time. “This weekend is supposed to be providing these students with a chance to learn how to get along as a community of mages. Splitting two of them off will deprive them of the chance—”

“Miss Possibelf.” I suppose it’s amusing that after all these years Davy doesn’t dare use my first name. “I know what I’m doing. Boys this age need a firm hand—” How does he not hear the sniggering going on behind him? “—and I’ve had just about enough.” After seven years. Seven years, and he’s had enough? Davy finally acknowledges me enough to turn and lower his voice. “Quite frankly, one of them has nothing to learn about survival, while the other doesn’t need to.” This last part is said in a hushed whisper, even though from the way Basilton’s eyebrow lifts, I’m certain he heard it.

I share his disdain for the sentiment, however, I’m not particularly concerned about his chances—here, or anywhere else. “Fine,” I snap, throwing my hands up. It’s not as though this trip isn’t always an annual excuse for all kinds of unsanctioned…exploration. Simon and Basilton aren’t likely to get up to anything they haven’t already, and I have bigger fish to fry given the amount of alcohol students traditionally smuggle on this fool’s exercise. David Cadwallader can be as blind as he likes, but some of us are left nursing the hangovers.

No pressure holiday tags: @rimeswithpurple, @artsyunderstudy, @cutestkilla, @c0nsumemy5oul, @tender-ministrations, @nausikaaa, @thewholelemon, @orange-peony, @youarenevertooold, @carryonsimoncarryonbaz, @ivelovedhimthroughworse, @letraspal, @bookish-bogwitch, @nightimedreamersghost, @aristocratic-otter, @brilla-brilla-estrellita, @hushed-chorus, @prettygoododds, @supercutedinosaurs, @shutup-andletme-go, @aceumbrellaheroes, @asocialpessimist, @wellbelesbian, @ic3-que3n, @raenestee , @larkral, @facewithoutheart, @papierhaikuphoto, @cows4247, @stitchy-queerista, @carry-on-big-bang, @imagineacoolusername, @ileadacharmedlife, @confused-bi-queer, @j-nipper-95, @jasonfunderberkerthefrogexists, @iamamythologicalcreature, @bazzybelle, @valeffelees

#cobb 2024 #carry on big bang #snowbaz #WIP #six sentence sunday #the simon snow series #simon snow #tyrannus basilton grimm pitch #Baz pitch #small!baz does his chores and homework #small!dev…does not #watford eighth year #Simon and Baz are having a stupid fight #or is it stupid? #😇 #in any event the mage’s solution is definitely stupid

[artsyunderstudy]

WIP Wednesday

Hello! Happy Wednesday. I am fighting to stay productive. It's only sorta working. Having fun with this one-shot, even though I barely have a plan which is very very new for me. Same as I teased on Sunday, Baz and Simon hook up at parties, or more specifically, while drinking. Also they're roommates. Also, Simon's going through it.

Here's a bit. This is the second time recently that I've had Baz call Simon 'Dear' in a sort of playfully mocking way and I have to say I'm a fan.

“I didn’t do it for him,” I answer quietly. “You weren’t yourself.” You’re still not. “’Course not. I’m pissed, innit?” That’s reductive, and I’m sure he knows it. “I’ve lived with you for three years now and I’ve never seen you nearly go off on a friend for a stupid joke.” “Not stupid,” he mumbles into my collar petulantly. Then he takes a big sniff. “You smell so good. Fuckin’ posh soaps, fuckin’ berga-wot. Christ ‘m tired.” “We’ll get you home, Snow.” His hand is still touching my cheek, and he feels his way clumsily to the bridge of my nose, to the bend where he broke it in our first year of uni. I can’t even remember what over anymore. We fought about everything that year.  “M’sorry about your face,” he says. “Didn’t get me this time, dear. I dodged.” He snorts inelegantly. “No, last time. The first time.” He runs his fingers over the tip. “But also sorry for tonight, too. M’sorry.” I close my eyes. I repeat, “You weren’t yourself.”

I swear Baz was trying to be a bitch but drunk Simon is too precious. Tags under the cut!

@imagineacoolusername  @aroace-genderfluid-sheep  @martsonmars  @valeffelees  @cutestkilla @bazzybelle  @ileadacharmedlife  @aristocratic-otter  @urban-sith  @basiltonbutliketheherb  @letraspal  @palimpsessed  @whatevertheweather  @nightimedreamersworld  @carryonsimoncarryonbaz  @raenestee  @erzbethluna  @confused-bi-queer  @moodandmist  @yeonjunenby  @shrekgogurt  @thewholelemon  @whogaveyoupermission   @creepyspice  @onepintobean  @ebbpettier  @orange-peony  @theearlgreymage  @ic3-que3n  @captain-aralias

@fatalfangirl  @prettygoododds  @stitchyqueer  @you-remind-me-of-the-babe  @forabeatofadrum  @ivelovedhimthroughworse @mysterioussheep @rimeswithpurple @c0nsumemy5oul @facewithoutheart @hushed-chorus @blackberrysummerblog @larkral @j-nipper-95 @alexalexinii @iamamythologicalcreature @supercutedinosaurs @wellbelesbian @bookish-bogwitch

#snowbaz fic #wip wednesday #cw alcohol #artsyfic

[mooncello]

hello friends. I've got some writing to share today! way more than six sentences, but it's 18°F outside right now, and I'm layered under blankets and drinking cup after cup of tea. **Baz vibes**

so here's a couple sections from lost boys. thank you to @shrekgogurt @you-remind-me-of-the-babe and @iamamythologicalcreature for the tags the past couple weeks.

Simon is next to me, devouring a thick slice of bread. He’s still wearing the scarlet jacket, brass buttons glinting in the firelight, and his silver sword stands tall in the sand beside him. The crown sits at a lazy angle upon his head, gold against bronze. He knocks his foot against mine. “This happened ‘cuz of you.” An undignified snort escapes through my nose. “You’re the one who cut through a cavernous labyrinth from memory.” “Yeah, but, I would've jumped into that lake without thinking twice.” “You really would have,” I agree, which startles a laugh out of him. “Idiot.” “Oi.” He throws a chunk of bread at me, and it smacks the center of my forehead. “No, wait.” He reaches over to retrieve the bread from where it’s fallen on my pajama top and pops it into his mouth. “Can’t let perfectly good food go to waste.” I’m staring at him again. Mostly captivated, a little bemused. Without meaning to, I say out loud, “I’ve never met anyone like you.” “Who doesn’t like a walnut loaf?” he asks around the wad of mashed-up bread. I want to arch an eyebrow at him, but my mouth is betraying me again. I feel it curl upward. “That’s not what I meant.” He grins. Impishly. “I know.”

One more passage (feat. Captain Hook), tags & hellos under the cut!

“You want the treasure, Hook?” Simon twirls the sword in a small circle. A hungry gleam has entered his eyes. “You have to fight me for it.” A pleased smile takes over Hook’s face. “Wouldn’t have it any other way, Pan.” “It’s Snow,” he says. It’s both a warning and a taunt. “No, don’t,” I say. My brain is struggling to keep up. The scenes shift so fast in these dreams. I want to return to firelight and banter. The pirates had to go and ruin that. Stupid bloody pirates. I glance over at Simon, and a bolt of panic crackles down my center. I don’t like the look in his eyes. Like he’s itching to fight. Like he’s found an excuse to brawl and break open skin. And what’s more, he needs to.

@thewholelemon @supercutedinosaurs @hushed-chorus @rimeswithpurple @facewithoutheart @iamamythologicalcreature @shrekgogurt @larkral @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @bookish-bogwitch @fatalfangirl @raenestee @best--dress @nightimedreamersworld @artsyunderstudy @cutestkilla

#simon snow is not peter pan #he wants to be very clear about that #neverland au #kinda #it is but it isn't #simon snow #baz pitch #carry on #my writing

[curlsinthewind]

a little something because i miss them and because i miss writing

________________

It’s quiet.

And then. 

Crash.

I jerk from the bed, my back going rigid in an instant, disorientedly looking around to spot the cause. But the room is empty. And then it’s quiet again.

“Fuck.” I hear from a distance, my body and my senses too exhausted to detect where it’s coming from, sleep clings to my eyes and I try my best to stay awake.

It’s dark. It’s still the middle of the night and I’m cold. That’s when I turn in the bed to look at the other side, finding it empty. Simon’s gone. I look around but it’s so dark and I’m too tired to use my vampire senses. I’m too tired to even stay upright.

And then it’s not. (Dark, I mean). The light in the living room turns on and I have to squint my eyes against its force.

“Simon?” I call out, rubbing the sleep from my eyes, trying to stay awake for him, trying to find out what’s wrong.

His head pops in the bedroom door, his curls ruffled across his forehead, skin all flushed and warm. I shudder at the reminder that I’m alone in the bed, and that I’m freezing.

And then I scowl because he seems perfectly fine and he left me in the bed. (Our bed.) Alone. He let me here freezing and now he woke me up.

He grins at me, all apologetic and strategic (he knows I’m weak for his seemingly innocent face, he knows I can’t be mad at him for long when he looks at me like that). “Sorry, babe,” he says and tugs at his messy curls. “I was hungry and went to get some milk and it spilled all over the kitchen,” he whispers and smiles sheepishly.

“Snow. You numpty,” I growl and fight the urge to crawl back under the covers in order to lecture him about drinking milk in the middle of the night.

“I’ll clean it up and come right back, yeah? Go back to sleep,” he promises and blows me a kiss, thinking it will fix anything (it will, it already did, he didn’t need to fix anything in the first place).

“Hurry up,” I say and hide back under the covers. “I’m cold,” I mumble but hope he didn’t hear it. He doesn’t need to know how needy I feel right now (that’s what happens when you wake me up from my beauty sleep).

For a while, I hear shuffling and a little bit more cursing before the light goes off and then Simon comes back to the bedroom. His tail slides up along my leg and curls around my hip before all of the rest of Simon joins me in the bed.

I pretend I’m sleeping, hoping this stupid urge of turning around and squeezing the shit out of him will pass as soon as possible. And then his wing covers me and his hand wriggles its way under my arm until it settles under my armpit, grasping and pulling. Simon groans loudly as if my closeness was something he missed terribly. (I did. I missed him terribly. I always do when he’s not with me.)

His second arm squeezes its way between my torso and the mattress, settling tightly over my heart, pulling me closer, grasping the fabric of my sleeping shirt.

And it’s cold.

And then.

It’s not.

Simon’s hot breath lands on the back of my neck. His legs tangle with mine and it’s hard distinguishing which limb is who’s. Finally, his tail circles around my thigh and pushes me flush to Simon’s scorching body.

I breathe out. Probably for the first time since he entered the room. My heart is hammering and the long lost sleep completely disappears from my mind. He’s holding me with all he has. He’s groaning in my ear as if my absence physically hurt him. Slowly, as to not destroy the hold he has on me, I turn around.

Facing his naked chest, I press my face under his chin and circle my hands around his waist, squeezing, pulling, grasping.

“I was worried something happened,” I let out, sticking my cold feet to his warm calves. “I was worried you were hurt.”

His fingers find their way to the nape of my neck and start toying with my hair. I close my eyes and try not to make any embarrassing noises.

“I’m fine, Baz. Everything’s okay,” he whispers and presses a kiss to the top of my head.

I almost melt. And then: “Our kitchen’s covered in milk.” (Our kitchen.)

He chuckles and I hear it through my body. It vibrates through my chest and makes me even closer to him. (I thought it wasn’t possible. Simon always could go beyond the impossible.) “I cleaned it up. It’s fine. Go back to sleep.”

I don’t like the commanding voice he gives me and pinch his hip. He yelps, and his wing closes tighter around me. “You woke me up,” I state as if it weren’t obvious. I don’t even know why I’m telling him this. I think I just want to talk to him. I just want to feel close to him. Breathing in the same air and having entangled limbs is apparently not enough for me. (I’ll never have enough of him.)

“I already apologised for that,” he whispers into my skull and moves his palm along my spine, holding me as if I’m a treasure, as if I’m something that could break.

I squeeze his tail where it’s connected to his spine, harsh, tough, just the way he likes it. “You left me here alone,” I complain into his chest and nuzzle under his chin even more now.

There’s hot breath on my cheek now, and then it’s wet with the kiss he gives me, rubbing my soft spots, pulling me, squeezing me, loving me. “I’m sorry, Baz,” he mumbles again and puts all his strength into pulling me on him, my head on his shoulder, both of his wings covering the both of us. “Next time I get hungry in the middle of the night, I’ll take you with me to the kitchen,” he says, brushing my hair from my face tenderly. His fingers are warm and smell a little faintly of milk and cookies. All of him smells like milk and cookies. I love him.

“Okay,” I whisper, squeezing his sides, trying to get him closer, closer, closer.

“Good night, Baz.”

Finally, my brain starts fading into the bliss of dreams. Finally content. Finally full. Finally where I’m supposed to be. I press a kiss to his chest.

“Good night, Simon.”

#simon snow #baz pitch #snowbaz #snowbaz fanfic #my fanfic #killy's having a big brain time again

[shrekgogurt]

Okay, still on my Watford School of Magicks presents Les Misérables AU bullshit. Please recall how I said — “At The End Of The Day” (hah puns!) — this fic is just Simon Snow’s gay crisis the musical. Recalling? Great.

If you have talked to me at all since Saturday, you have been forced to hear me infodump especially about the “Red/Black” scene. Now, I’ve been scouring YouTube looking at so many versions of all these songs (especially from live productions) for inspiration. However, no one quite does this particular one like the film version. The way Eddie Redmayne sings these lines like he is both surprised and confused by what he has said is so Simon Snow coded. Therefore, I want to share the clip alongside the fic version of the scene. (Just please ignore the discord notification in the middle of it from @onepintobean, it’s part of my process.)

THE GOOD STUFF IS BELOW THE CUT

I leap from my chair; it clatters behind me as I envision Agatha, or rather Cosette, “had you seen her today you might know how it feels.”

My hand flies in the air, commanding attention, “to be struck to the bone in a moment of breathless delight.” It’s love at first sight. Untouchable? Exalted? A hook in my stomach. My intestines threatening to burst. Huh?

“Had you been there today you might also have known,” I stride further across the stage and take a few steps up the stairs. Knowing, knowing... I’m leaping again, holding the railing to anchor me.

“How your world may be changed in just one burst of light,” my brain floods with images of exploding brightness, like going off, like—the Humdrum stealing Penny and I away, Agatha's hands in Baz's, “and what was right seems wrong,” Baz flinging open the Great Hall doors three weeks ago, his top lip curled, “and what was wrong seems right.”

“Red!” Dev sings. 

I think about lighting a match, “I feel my soul on fire!” It’s always fire with Baz...

“Black!”

I think about searching the catacombs, “My world if h-she’s not there!” I’m all mixed up…

Niall looks at me like I’ve lost the plot as the company joins to sing the next, “Red!”

“It’s the color of desire!” And shoving him against a wall mid-fight…

“Black!”

“It’s the color of despair!” And also his stupid fucking hair that’s probably very soft…

woop woop I scheduled this post so I get to tag people first! @agni-ashes @artsyunderstudy @aristocratic-otter @bazzybelle @brilla-brilla-estrellita @cutestkilla @dragoneggos @ebbpettier @excalisbury @facewithoutheart @fatalfangirl @hushed-chorus @ivelovedhimthroughworse @larkral @martsonmars @mysterioussheep @palimpsessed @raenestee @theearlgreymage @thewholelemon @whogaveyoupermission @yellobb

#the boy is on the precipice of realization #he’s so close!!!!! #wipsday #can y’all tell I wanna be a hs theatre director

[carryonprompts]

baz is plotting something, simon is sure, because he's constantly scribbling on that notebook of his and looking through different spell books. one night, while baz is in the catacombs, simon finds the notebook and opens it up, expecting to find evil plans on how to kill him, but instead is faced with a list of sentences. he assumes baz must be working on his eight year spell, even though they're still in sixth year, and lets it be.

turns out that baz was indeed working on a spell, a time travel spell that would allow him to go to the past. he wants to find natasha and prevent her from getting with malcolm, thus saving her future life and eliminating his. he manages to get the spell working and uses it, sending himself back in time.

simon, who has been very suspicious of baz lately (he stopped antagonising him and even was civil with simon these past weeks), follows him to the wavering wood, where he sees baz cast the spell, and decides to follow him immediately after.

when baz sees that simon has followed him back in time, he decides to tell him the reason he's there to convince simon to go back: he can't leave the world knowing that simon might get lost forever. so he tells simon that he's looking for his mum to stop her from marrying his dad, to avoid her dying in watford's nursery years from now. simon connects the dots and sees red. he can't allow baz to leave. now simon tries to convince baz that this plan is stupid, that he simply can't do that, etc, they have a whole ass fight about it.

anyway, they find natasha, tell her what's going on, and she believes them. baz does look like her, after all. she then manages to convince baz to go back to his time with simon. she tells him that she's glad she got to meet her son and his boyfriend (they both get very flustered at that), and that the fact that baz was willing to sacrifice his life for hers is so touching, and that she's proud of him. there's a very emotional goodbye hug, and then they go back to their time. right before simon casts the spell, though, natasha kisses his forehead twice: the first is for him, and the second she asks simon to pass it on to baz

New Carry On Prompt!

#carry on #simon snow series #snowbaz #type: au #ship: snowbaz #prompt

[sailorblossoms]

Was Baz actually a bully during the Watford years? Or was he just a posh jerk?

Listen, i've been reading old meta about these series these past days and I can't believe the amount of people that actually believe he was an actual bully like, based on what??

I mean, he absolutely comes from an elitist and conservative family, and that absolutely influenced his worldview during his childhood and early adolescence (quite predictably, hard to see what's outside of your bubble when you're not allowed to at that age). (Adding the actual safety that elitism provides him, as in he wouldn't be as shielded from being outed as a vampire if he wasn't a Pitch, and that it was impossible for kid-Baz to go against whatever the great Natasha Pitch believed in. Even when the conservatism of it all hurts him! Even when he thought his dead mom would want him dead, he still believed she was in the right!! But anyway, it's only after he breaks free from that bubble that he starts to grow as his own person, as a better person, cuz no way you can throw someone as soft hearted and who cares about others into the real world and have him remain a conservative elitist prick)

Being a bully and being a jerk are not the same thing, even if you're a real fucking jerk. Most of these characters are jerks in one way or another, to be quite honest (except Shephard, bless his heart) but the reason there's this perception of Baz, I assume, it's 1) because of the stereotype that he was supposedly casted in and 2) because Simon says he's a bully. The series it's all about calling bullshit to stereotypes so I'm not touching 1. And 2, Simon calling him a bully honestly doesn't mean shit.

A bully, at the very least, has actual victims. At the very least, they create an atmosphere of anxiety and fear. And who the fuck it's actually afraid of Baz in Watford, other than rats and whatever animals they have in the forest? (Actual question, I'm going by memory here). Nothing could more clearly point out how unbothered the student body is about Baz that Simon trying to tell others that he's a vampire and... being laughed off. If someone was being victimized by the dude and they were told "listen, he's actually a dangerous dark creature of the night, we could get the bitch kicked out, free ourselves" the general reaction would not be "Simon what the fuck are you smoking my guy". Agatha "I'm sick and tired of being a Damsel and in danger" wanted to go after Baz. And yeah, I know this was her trying out a rebellion phase by going by the Dark and Misterious Bad Boy(tm), see if that helped her figure out herself, but I honestly don't think she would have been fucking around in the dark waiting for him or wtv she was doing in CO if she seriously thought he would actually hurt or victimize her, as a bully would do. Baz might have had The Vibe, but there was likely the safety of deep down knowing it's just superficial, y'know (ik she later goes he's an Evil vampire!!! when trying to get Simon out of Baz's house for no real reason, which honestly rude, and my point still stands)

And it needs to be extremely clear that Simon and Baz were equals. Even when they were being dumb boys having stupid little fights they took awfully seriously (collateral of an actual war going on) they were still equals. Hell, Baz went out of his way to make sure they were equals, given that he has super-strength, enough to snap a human body like a toothpick, and Simon still tells us that he never even pushed him harder that he could push back. Yes, Baz could be mean and ruthless with his words, and he definitely hurt Simon, but Simon was never his victim. Simon was never afraid of Baz. And Simon definitely hurted Baz as well. Maybe he wasn't as cutting as Baz could be with words (likely the entire reason Simon even called him a bully, the whole "having advantage at being good with words, even to be a little bitch") but he was always good with his fists. He broke his damn nose ffs! (being the whole reason it's permanently crooked iirc)

Even the incident with Phillipa doesn't count (which I think was handled very well in the third book, so I won't get into it) cuz she was never a target, she was unfortunate collateral damage, and an unfortunate victim of Fiona, who was the adult who fully understood what she was doing, and I sustain was the actual responsible here (even if Baz was still wrong for fucking with dangerous things he didn't fully understand) (can't find the quote, but Penny said it best when she talked to Baz about this, they were really just boys being used as pawns by adults in dangerous situations they didn't even fully comprehend, not until actual damage was done here) (pretty fucked up of Fiona to even think of hurting Simon, a kid, that way, and to ask her nephew, another kid, to do it for her. Honestly believe she didn't really give a fuck about the kid who actually got hurt too, and only came around cuz she does love Baz and doesn't want to lose him)

So anyway, I'm not trying to be an apologist or whatever (these characters being flawed and having moments of being jerks or even dickheads it's compelling, honestly). All I'm saying is that Baz might have been a posh prick, and a jerk, and an asshole, and whatever synonyms we can think off, and he definitely had to unlearn quite a few questionable things but... was he actually ever a bully? I honestly don't think so. In fact, if we look at the picture of Baz being wealthy, attractive, smart, part of the football team, among the top of the class... it's actually likely that the general view other students had of him was more positive than negative, especially since he didn't have a reason to lash out at random people like he did with Simon and his friends (and he's not someone who actually wants to hurt others! He's always holding back even in actual fights!). And let's face it, hot rich ppl can get away with more shit in the general perception, so this would probably still apply even if he was generally an ass.

#baz pitch #this is long as fuck and barely comprehensiveble #but its my blog and i do what i want to etc #simon snow #carry on

[aristocratic-otter]

Ok, it's technically Monday, but there's so much I'm itching to share, that I'm gonna post anyways. First, thank you all for continuing to post brilliant stuff and tag me on it. Tag backs for Wednesday, @palimpsessed, @whogaveyoupermission, @artsyunderstudy, @ivelovedhimthroughworse, @basiltonbutliketheherb, @ionlydrinkhotwater, @larkral, @cutestkilla, @facewithoutheart, @bookish-bogwitch, @confused-bi-queer, @nightimedreamersghost, @erzbethluna, @fatalfangirl, @ileadacharmedlife, @dragoneggos, @johnwgrey, @hushed-chorus. Additional tags to @carryonsimoncarryonbaz, @frjsti, @bazzybelle, @fight-surrender and @yellobb-old

Snips under the cut for length (yeah, it's six sentences, but it's a lot of six sentences 😂)

From: Raising Dragons:

Today was the children’s classroom Valentine’s party. Violet was ebullient this morning, skipping off to school with her pink cardboard mailbox under one arm. Ebb and Nat were also excited, but Violet’s been able to talk of nothing but Valentine’s day for weeks. 

My daughter is a born romantic. Simon thinks she gets it from me, but he doesn’t give himself enough credit. He’s distinguished himself in the romance department on many occasions. 

From: Playing With Fire, Treading Thin Ice

He stops short of telling me exactly how his discovery came about, but he admits that Simon pushed magic into him, and he doesn’t know what it means. I sense the embarrassment behind the things he isn’t saying, so I’m guessing that this discovery happened in the course of…well, intercourse, given the time of day and Baz’s reticence. 

I don’t particularly want to think about my best friend having sex. As far as I’m concerned, Basil has nothing under his clothes but skin. Basically, he’s a ken doll. And I don’t want to hear anything to the contrary.

From: Unnamed Xanadu AU, next year's COTTA

As I gather up the fallen music sheets and album cover, I notice Simon’s eyes on the image of himself. I laugh, self-consciously. “This is the second place I saw you,” I say, proffering the cover to him. 

He takes it and examines it, before setting it back down on the table it had fallen from. “It’s a good photo,” he says carelessly. 

“The first time I saw you, you kissed me. Why?”

From: New AU, Tentatively Titled Saving Simon Snow

It’s quiet.

Sometimes, when I’m lucid, I drag my hands across the stone floor. Tiny fragments of granite scratch my palms. I knock bits of stone away and they clatter. 

It’s almost too much noise for me to handle, I’ve become so used to silence. 

It reminds me that I’m not dead yet. 

From Westward Son

It happens in slow motion. 

I scream Simon’s name. His head swings toward me slowly. So slowly. And the winged form, half mist, half solid, collapses over him as his chin is completing its arc in my direction. 

He disappears under a blue glow and I’m screaming but I can’t hear anything.

Aaaand, a new project, a prize fic for Macey (@yellobb-old), my first medical drama AU:

It’s demeaning that I should have to work a monthly shift on the ER floor. That’s what residents are for. Or those fools who actually choose to specialize in emergency medicine. 

I should be in my office, investigating the odd outbreak of adenovirus in the hospital nursery. 

Instead, I drag myself unwillingly down to the critical care section of the ER to spend an evening, if past stints down here are any indication, up to my eyebrows in runny noses and screaming children. 

At least a motorcycle crash is mildly interesting. Stupid. But interesting. 

#cotta 2021 #cotta 2023? #baby dragons #raising dragons #house au #xanadu au #oregon trail au #Carry on reverse bang #canon divergence from white chapel scene

[c0nsumemy5oul]

Snowbaz angst :]

I wrote this while at Uni as a congratulations for finishing a question correctly. Anyways have fun reading, this made my horrible day better.

tw: suicidal ideation

“It’s like you have a fucking hero complex or something!” 

“I don’t– what are you even talking about?” Snow threw his arms up in bewilderment. 

“Oh look at me! I’m the Chosen One and I have to save everyone or FUCKING KILL MYSELF!” Baz said in a very good impression of Simon.  “Isn’t that what goes through your head?!” 

“Why would you care if I died?! You hate me!” 

“You are SO fucking blind!” Baz sneered, rolling his eyes away.  

Simon didn’t know why that annoyed him so much but he went on. “Also, you haven’t lived with the guilt of almost losing someone because you weren’t quick enough or smart enough–” 

“Oh you would be surprised!” Baz laughed bitterly. 

“Really?” Simon raised his brows. “The Great Grimm-Pitch can feel guilt? I am surprised.” 

Baz scoffed. He should probably leave now. Snow’s been winded up for a while. The room smells like a forest fire. But Baz feels the anger in him rising. How could one boy be so idiotic. And how on earth could Baz fall for him? 

“So?” Simon asked, “Who is it you’re trying to save? Your beau? Are you even capable of love?” 

“You! You idiot!” He didn’t mean to say it but it comes out nonetheless. And he felt too angry to stop or regret his decisions. 

“...what?” Simon looked dumbfounded. 

The words rushed out of Baz. Years of hopeless pining and yearning broke his voice as he confessed everything he’d desperately hidden from everyone in his life ever. 

And he doesn’t stop. 

“You go around trying to save people like you have a fucking death wish! And I’m sitting here pretending that I’d love it if you went and got yourself killed. But deep down I know that if you crossed to the other side, I’d follow you in a heartbeat. Because my stupid undead heart chose to fall in love with you!” 

Simon was too stunned to speak. Like he was spelt immobile. He just gawked at Baz. 

The gravity of what Baz had done set in his bones, replacing all the fight left in him. 

He’d just confessed to the love of his life. Not just his feelings but his deepest darkest secrets that he kept close to his heart no matter what. 

And he’d just come undone at another threat of losing Simon. 

The final straw on the camel’s back, and now it’s on the floor and can’t get up. 

“Just…” Baz said to Simon who was still standing there, staring. “Just go.” 

The feeling returned to Simon’s legs and he rushed to the door, swung it open and ran out, disappearing. 

Baz doesn’t know how long he was standing there in their room, but eventually he finds himself crouching on the floor near his bed and crying his eyes and heart out. 

do lmk what you thought! no this will not be continued but you're welcome to write a continuation yourself if you have any idea what would happen next :)

Thanks for reading! <33

#snowbaz #snowbaz angst #simon snow #baz pitch #tyrannus basilton grimm pitch #simon snow tirology #the simon snow triology #my wip #my work #my writing #carry on #carry on fanfic #carry on fanfiction #simon snow fanfic #simon snow fanfiction #simon snow salisbury #angst #snowbaz fanfic #snowbaz fanfiction #tw suicidal ideation #tw suicide #DO NOT REPOST #:>

[otherpeoplesheartachept-2]

Day 8: Lyrics

It's Simon and Baz's last winter break before they graduate, and subsequently never see each other again. They should be glad to be rid of each other, right? But then why are they clinging to what little time they have left? Why is it so hard to say how you really feel? 

(or, a fic inspired by the song Head Over Heals)

Length: 2532

Warnings: none

Read on AO3 or below the cut

SIMON

“Looks like it might rain,” I say, leaning my forearms on the porch railing. The night sky is filled with cold gray clouds—the moon barely visible.

Baz makes a non-committal sound and takes another drag from his cigarette.

I don’t know why I followed him out here. It’s dark and cold and I’m breathing in second-hand smoke. I should have stayed inside with Shep and Penny. I should have left the party as soon as I saw Baz.

I never learned how to leave Basilton Pitch alone, though. The only thing worse than being around Baz is not being around him.

And a small, very stupid, part of me is convinced Baz invited me out here. I was laughing at a joke Shepard made, Baz was leaning against the living room wall, acting cool and better than everyone else at this crowded party. I looked up, across the people playing beer pong, and we locked eyes. He looked bored. I probably looked buzzed. Then Baz tipped his head towards the hallway and slipped away, through the house and out the sliding glass door.

He was probably just flicking some of his obnoxiously pretty hair out of his face, not gesturing for me to follow him out back. But I did. And now I’m out here, bothering him during winter break when we’re supposed to be enjoying the time we have away from each other and the tiny dorm room we share.

Freshman year Penny said I followed Baz around like a lost puppy. I argued with her about that at the time, but I’m starting to see her point.

I feel stupid, stood out here with nothing to say. No reason to be near Baz. I don’t know why he hasn’t told me to fuck off yet.  

“Did you see the sunset last night? It was gorgeous,” I try talking to him again.

Baz finally turns to look at me. The wood railing he leans against presses into his hip. Gray eyes peer down his long, crooked nose at me. I turn my neck to look up at him from my hunched over position.

If this is what gets his attention, I’ll keep talking. “It was mostly orange but like the underside of some of the clouds in the west, wer-were this crazy-pretty purple.”

Baz doesn’t say anything, so I keep going—I put my half empty cider can on the porch railing, and reach into my back pocket for my phone, ready to show him the grainy pictures I took of the sky yesterday. I move closer to him; one of my hands brushes his cool fingers griping the wood railing.

He flicks the ash of his fag and then pushes my hand away from him with a small sneer.

Anger bubbles up in me. He’s always doing shit like that: keeping me at a distance with a calculated system of touches. We only make contact when he’s pushing me away. It’s infuriating. It makes me want to shove my hands onto him, to bury myself in his chest and tear him apart, so he can’t get rid of me.

“Did you want me alone to talk about the weather?” Baz asks annoyed, raising an eyebrow.

“No,” I huff. I don’t mention I think he wanted me out here. He’d think I’ve gone mad. (Maybe I have).

Baz scoffs.

“So uh, how’s break been for you? Are you looking forward to finally being rid of me?” I ask, with a teasing smile. It’s easy to fall back on our familiar scripts of insults and fighting.

“I am counting down the days, Snow, had an advent calendar customized for the occasion,” he says grinning. He takes another drag, then hesitates before continuing, “I’ll admit, I am a little nervous about finishing this school year.”

“Well if the great Basilton Pitch is worried about his marks then the rest of us are well and truly fucked,” I joke.

He doesn’t smile, or even roll his eyes at me. Baz just looks at the ground.

“It’s not grades. It’s-I’m not sure what I want to do with myself after school. I don’t know if child education is even right for me anymore.” He slumps a little—his lips forming into a small frown.

Okay Baz must be a little drunk. There’s no way he’d be talking to me about his anxieties if he were sober.

I want to reassure him. I hate to admit it, but he’s brilliant—and charming when he wants to be—I’m sure he could be successful in any field he wanted.

“Do you not like it? Or are you worried you’ll be rubbish? Because I’ve seen you a few times with your siblings, you’ll be fantastic as a teacher.”

Baz’s cheeks flush just slightly, and for a moment a small smile crosses his face, but he quickly schools his features into the allure, uncaring mask I’m so familiar with. There are cracks in it this time though. It’s subtle: his cheeks are still red, and the corners of his mouth are ever so slightly pulled up. I doubt he even realizes this, but nothing about Baz escapes my attention.

My chest warms with the knowledge that I made him smile. Or no—it’s probably just the few ciders I drank. Yeah, that is what’s making me all warm and fuzzy inside.

“You don’t know anything, Snow,” he mumbles, before taking another drag. His eyes are glued to the wood we’re standing on. “My father’s always on me about not working hard enough for this, he thinks I’m wasting money. He wanted me to be a lawyer, or a doctor.”

“That’s bullshit,” I exclaim. Baz works harder at his education than anyone I know, besides Penelope.

“It’s just how he is,” Baz says like he’s trying not to care.

“It’s bullshit,” I say again, trying to get through to him. “Does he not know how dedicated you are? Does he not know you’re at the top of all your classes?” I ask, angry at the idea that anyone would try to discredit the passion and work Baz puts into his schooling.

“Enough, enough,” Baz waves me off. He tucks a stray lock of black hair behind his ear, his gray eyes shifting to the left. My eyes follow the movement of his long fingers. He looks at me again, long eyelashes fluttering. His mouth still smiling so small it’d be hard for anyone else to pick up on. And-

Oh. Oh fuck.

BAZ

Inviting Snow out here was a terrible idea. His plain blue eyes shine in the faint moonlight, and he’s pointing that blazing sunshine smile of his at me. I can’t handle being this close to Simon Snow; it’s like standing in the middle of a burning forest. I was set on fire the moment we met.

I used to hate him. Those first few months my crush on Simon was insufferable, and I was terrified of my presumably straight roommate finding out I was gay. It frustrated me endlessly, so I took it out on him. I didn’t realize what I felt for him had turned into love until I’d established myself as the villain in Snow’s life. And then it was too late for me to do anything but watch myself burn.

And now he’s talking to me like he cares about what I have to say. And I’m (idiotically) opening up to him, which for some unfathomable reason he’s being nice about. It’s the most we’ve said to each other without getting antagonistic. It’s doing wonderful (cruel, painful) things to my heart. I can’t help but think about his future, and mine, and the imaginary one in my head that we spend together.

I should leave—go back inside, or take the tube home, but I’m weak. And Snow’s standing so close to me I can almost feel the heat radiating off of him.

We go back to uni for our last semester together in a few days, and then whatever I have with Snow will be over, permanently. I’ve always known he wouldn’t be in my life forever, but lately I’ve really been living in the past, trying to pretend this (as if there is a this. As if I’ll ever be anything to Simon Snow) will last longer. I’ll drag tonight out as long as I can.

“What are your grand plans after graduation?” I ask, desperate to keep him here with me. I puff out smoke from my cigarette. Snow puffs out a warm breath into the cool night air.

He looks like his brain’s overheating.

SIMON

I’m in love with him.

I drop my head into my empty palm. Everything hits me so fast I feel dizzy with it. I’m in love with Basilton Pitch. Holy shit. Of course I don’t realize until I’m already head over heels and truly fucked. My heart’s racing so fast I think it’s going to burst out of my chest. I can’t breathe.

Fuck, okay, I need to calm down. It’s not that big of a deal, yeah?

I try to focus on what Baz asked me. He says something about graduation, and plans after.

“I-” my brain is scrambling to come up with words that make sense “-I don’t know. I went into mathematics because I like it, but I’ve no clue what jobs I could even get with my degree.” I shrug. The academic advisor’s been on me about figuring out my future, but I’m not good at thinking about that shite. It’s too overwhelming, so I just don’t think.

Baz stares at me in disbelief. “How do you not know your career options?”

I shrug. “It’s scary,” I admit to him. “I never thought I’d make it to uni. In the care home I never thought I’d graduate secondary school.”

I try not to say things like that to people. They either look at me with pity or try to be encouraging by saying I would have found a way to finish school even as an orphan. I hate both reactions.

Baz doesn’t do either, he just nods.

This is okay, I can handle this. I can fancy Baz for a few months and then graduate and move on like it’s nothing. Easy-peasy.

I’m staring at his lips. I can’t stop staring.

They look so soft, and kissable. I want to know if his mouth is as cold as his hands always are.

Baz raises an eyebrow at me.

I flick my eyes up to his. He’s giving me that look—the one that usually means he wants to throttle me for being a prat. It sends an electric thrill down my spine and settles in my core.

“Sorry I sh-” I feel my face burning up “-I shouldn’t have said that, about secondary school.”

I force my gaze away from Baz’s mesmerizing face.

“What do you want to do? With your life, without thinking about education or money or other bullshit,” Baz asks.

“I don’t know,” I tell him. “I don’t think about it.”

He looks puzzled. I expect a jab at my intelligence, but it never comes.

“I think blacksmiths are cool, but like, is that even a career anymore?”

Baz lets out a loud laugh.

“Shut up,” I groan. For one fleeting moment I thought we could be pleasant towards each other.

“Sorry, sorry,” Baz composes himself. “I think that’s hot-cool. It’s cool.”

I can’t help the giant smile that takes over my face.

“Hot?”

“Shut up,” Baz rolls his eyes.

“I’m just surprised, you’ve never told me how sexy you find me before.”

“Oh god,” he groans. I laugh at his pained expression. “Please make it stop,” he dramatically begs.

“It’s okay, we all know I could never measure up to the standards of the great Basilton Grimm-Pitch.”

BAZ

I should go along with Simon’s self-deprecating joke, but I can’t let him go on thinking he isn’t the most attractive man in existence, and the ticking time bomb on our relationship has me feeling desperate.

“You want to know something embarrassing?”  I ask.

He nods.

“I was so mean to you when we first met because I had a raging crush on you and was too closeted to admit it.”

Simon’s eyes widen. I can see the cogs turning in his brain. He doesn’t say anything for a while, just looks like he’s choosing his next works carefully. Something I can’t imagine Snow has ever done before. It worries me. Maybe I’ve truly fucked things up this time.

“You know what else is embarrassing?” he asks. “I just realized tonight that I’ve had a crush on you since freshman year.”

“That’s not funny.” God, this was a terrible idea.

“It wasn’t a joke,” Simon says seriously.

But it must be, there’s no way I have a chance with Simon Snow.

I want to leave, but my eyes catch the can Simon left on the railing. Its logo is a four-leaf clover. I’ve never believed in good luck charms, but maybe tonight the universe will be on my side.

SIMON

I look into Baz’s eyes. His gaze flicks down to my lips. I take a step towards him. Baz drops his fag and snuffs it out while keeping his eyes on me.

This close I can feel his breath on my face. It smells like stale nicotine but I don’t care.

I pull him down to me by the back of the neck, and attack him. I don’t hesitate—I can’t—I’ll burst out of my skin if I don’t kiss him right now. Baz melts into the kiss.

Baz kisses me back just as passionately. Like he’s a drowning man and I’m his only source of air. It makes my knees weak.

I tangle a hand into his long dark hair. It’s so smooth. Exactly how I imagined. Baz moans when I tug.

One of his hands cups my jaw, the other moves towards my arse, pulling my closer.

I press him against the wood railing, and then I keep pressing. My hands are reaching for every little bit of Baz I can touch. I can’t get close enough. I need to be closer, I need to meld us together into one. I need to make up for all the time we wasted fighting with each other. Maybe then Baz would know how much I love him. He’d understand what he means to me.

He rubs a thumb across my cheek, then pushes me away, for air.

I pout; I still haven’t gotten my fill of Basilton Pitch.

“Simon,” he breathes.

“Baz,” I say, kissing his bottom lip, it’s swollen from all the kissing. The thought makes my insides fuzzy. I move down to kiss his chin.

“Simon,” Baz says again.

“Baz,” I hum, my lips just under his ear.

He starts to shiver at the sensation, but stops himself.

“Simon,” he says seriously.

I pull away to look at him. “What?”

“Please…”

“What?”

“Tomorrow, when you’re sober-” he swallows. My eyes follow the bob of his Adam’s apple. “-don’t break my heart.”

“Never. Never Baz.” And I let myself hope he won’t break mine either.

#carry on countdown #coc 2022 #carry on #carry on fanfic #snowbaz #simon snow #baz pitch #the simon snow series #I actually started writing this for last years coc but never finished it #corascrap

[ihavea-natural-curiosity]

W.I.P Wednesday

i’m writing a lil fic, a modern watford au where simon is raised by Lucy and Ebb, while Baz is raised by Fiona, on the funds of his father.

Baz

He really is beautiful. I would never admit it aloud, not even to Fiona(though i had, once, on accident) (i was having a panic attack, you can’t blame me), but he is, especially in the morning. Golden light dancing on his cheeks, of which one is squished against his pillow, fighting with his bones for space on his face. his arm is thrown over the edge of his bed, his hand within reach of mine. I fight the urge to just grab it

We’d gotten over whatever ridiculous 11 year old spat we’d been in years ago, i wouldn’t call us friends, but i wouldn’t call us acquaintances either. I’m not sure what we are if i’m being honest.

and then i’m writing a watford era one-shot with goth!baz !!with a cane!!

Baz

Simon Snow just asked me if i was gay.

I mean, of course i am. You would be too if you could see his stupid, boring blue eyes. I’m honestly lucky i hadn’t drank enough to blush. I’ve been pretending to write for at least half an hour, just running the conversation back through my head. I mean, the guy i’ve been in love with since i was 12 just asked me about my sexuality, i hate to admit it but i’m a bit flustered.

this has no editing whatsoever so enjoy my raw idiocy on paper

#current wip #wip tag #wip wednesday #carry on rainbow rowell #basilton grimm pitch #simon snow #snowbaz trash #snowbaz fic

[angelsfalling16]

Kiss and Make Up

Summary: After an encounter in the Wavering Woods, most of Simon's clothes have been burnt off, but he refuses to get dressed until Baz admits that the fight was his fault.

A/N: I am very late with this fic, but this is what I wrote for this year's @carryon-reverse-bang​. I want to say a huge thank you to my artist in this event, @cutestkilla​, who was completely understanding and patient when I needed an extension to finish this fic and too stressed by work to be able to focus on this fic. I could not have asked for a better or kinder partner, and I have loved working with her. Also, her art is amazing, and I’ve included it at the beginning of the fic!! It was so fun to write a fic based on her work!

Word Count: 4689

Read the fic on ao3 or down below

Simon

There is a distinct scent of campfire in our room. You know, that smell when the fire is beginning to die out and it's more smoke than anything. Plus, there's actually smoke in our room. I'm not sure if it's from my clothes - what remains of it anyway - or the feeling of being about to go off that still hasn't dissipated.

I've been trying to calm down, but it isn’t working, which is only frustrating me even more. I've been taking deep breaths and trying to focus on something other than the anger that I feel coursing through my veins like something’s alive that’s just waiting to take over.

I hate feeling like this, like I have no control over my feelings or my reactions to them. I can’t even get mad without nearly blowing everything up, the way I did tonight.

Baz is in the bathroom, and I focus on the sound of the water running from the sink. It’s a normal, soothing sound, and it actually works in helping me to get my breathing under control, and after a few minutes, I no longer feel like a ticking bomb, waiting for the moment when the time runs out and I go off, destroying everything in my path.

Baz exits the bathroom, and the sneer he gives me is almost enough to break through the sense of calm that I was just beginning to feel.

“Aren’t you going to get dressed?”

I shrug. “I don’t have anything else to wear.” Everything else I own is disgustingly dirty, and my uniform has practically disintegrated, an unfortunate side effect to going off so close to the flames that Baz was hurling my way.

I don’t even know what we were fighting about. Probably something stupid. We hurling insults and shoving each other and I dont know. I guess I got so worked up that I couldn’t control my magic, and I just went off.

I was relieved that Baz wasn’t actually hurt, but he still yelled at me the whole way up to our room, acting like the whole thing was entirely my fault and he had nothing to with it, which isn’t really fair because he was the one who brought magic into the fight to begin with, summoning a flame with an irritating effortlessness.

And now he’s looking at me like he’s disgusted by me and my actions, and I won’t let him win that easily.

“I will get dressed as you as you apologize.”

He glares at me. “I have nothing to apologize for. You are the one who nearly killed us.”

I roll my eyes. “You’re perfectly fine. The only thing that happened was our clothes got badly singed, and that was from your fire.”

I shake my head because that just isn’t true. I was minding my own business, walking through the Wavering Woods when he confronted me. And yeah, maybe I got a little more defensive than was strictly necessary, but Baz drives me crazy. He gets under my skin so easily, and once that starts to happen, I’m hopeless to control my emotions, which seems to be intricately connected with my volatile magic.

I don’t want to argue with him anymore, so I pick up a book that I discarded on my desk earlier today and pretend to read it.

I can feel the force of Baz’s glare, but he doesn’t say anything else. He stomps over to his desk and opens up his laptop.

It seems he won’t be apologizing anytime soon. And that’s fine with me. I still feel too warm from our fight to be comfortable in clothes, so the cool air on my skin feels nice.

 Baz

I have my laptop open in an attempt to work on the essay I need to complete for our Greek class, but I just can't focus on it. I get two, very mediocre, introductory sentences written before I glance off to the side, catching a glimpse of Simon's bare chest out of the corner of my eye.

I immediately snap my eyes back to my computer, but I know I won't be getting this assignment done tonight, not with Simon’s golden skin exposed like that, so close to me. 

I pull up a new tab and switch over to one of my favorite sites, hoping for a distraction. I start scrolling, but I don't really take any of it in.

My eyes glaze over yet another gif of the angels falling, something that the Supernatural fandom doesn't seem likely to get over anytime soon. I keep scrolling passing similar gifs, some accompanied with the characters' reactions to the angels falling. I scroll past a long post, probably something informational, which I would usually be interested in but can't focus on right now, so I keep scrolling, words and images passing quickly by as my attention is drawn elsewhere.

My eyes keep drifting away from the screen and over to a mostly naked Simon. "Would you please put some clothes on?" I ask for probably the hundredth time. I'm practically begging at this point.

"I will," he says, and I sigh, some of the tension leaving my body, but then he continues speaking and it comes right back. "Once you admit that this is your fault."

I grind my teeth. Yelling at him hasn't worked thus far, so maybe a kinder approach will work.

"I can see why you might think that it was my fault, but I think we were both equally to blame. I will admit that we both played a part in the events that led to your being...underdressed. But I will not accept the full blame."

He seems to take my words into consideration for a moment, but then he shakes his head. "That's not good enough."

I take a deep breath, still trying not to yell. "You could at least use a blanket to cover up."

"Why does it bother you so much?"

"How would you like it if I was just sitting here in my pants?"

"Go for it! I wouldn't mind." A pause as his cheeks turn a dark shade of pink. "I-I mean. I w-wouldn’t care." He shrugs like that's explanation enough.

I don't think either of us knows how to respond, but I definitely will not be taking my clothes off.

We stare at each other for another long moment, then I turn my attention back to my computer, my eyes glazing over the images as I continue to scroll. All I can see is Simon stretched out on his bed, practically naked, that damned cross between his teeth, which I’m not sure he even realizes he’s doing.

I could probably come up with a spell that would clothe him, but he'd probably remove them just to spite me, and watching him strip is the last thing that I can handle right now. It's bad enough, his body is on display. It's driving me mad.

 Simon

Baz turns back to his computer, but my cheeks are still burning with the embarrassment of what I said. I almost want to put my clothes on so that I can leave our room and the awkwardness of that moment. But I can't let Baz win.

I turn my attention back to the book that I'm supposed to be reading for a class, flipping to a random page, but I don’t even look at it. I can't stop thinking about what I said. Not because it was embarrassing. (I'm always saying embarrassing things in front of Baz. Nothing ever seems to come out right.) But because it came out so quickly, like it was the truth.

Would I mind if Baz took his clothes off? No. Not really. I mean, he's not ugly. He's muscular from all the running he does in football, and I'm sure he wouldn't be bad to look at.

But I didn't mean it like that. Like I want him to take his clothes off. Obviously, I don't go around wishing that I could see more of Baz's body. I don't care. I know he looks good. But I don't have any secret desire to see his naked body.

But now I'm sure that's what Baz thinks.

I need to come up with a way to let him know that I don't want him to take his clothes off without it coming off as weird.

 Baz

Simon seems to be spiraling. He's thinking so loud that it's distracting. His leg is jiggling so hard the bed is vibrating, and his teeth are grinding, making a sound that has me clenching my own teeth. It's distracting, but it’s also nice to know that he isn’t taking any pleasure from this whole situation.

One of us is going to have to stop being stubborn so that we can put an end to this whole thing, but it can’t be. This was not my fault, no matter how much he wants to believe it is. He is the one who went off, destroying his clothes in the process.

Bringing fire into our fight was admittedly a bit of an overstep, but I was just so mad. I’m not even sure that I was at mad at Simon, though. I think I was mostly mad at myself for the way that my heart wouldn’t stop racing just from running into him in the Woods.

I hate how deeply I feel for Simon, and I hate how unrequited those feelings are even more. It isn’t right for me to take my frustrations out on Simon all the time, but I don’t know what else to do. I wish that just once, he would look at me without the usual hatred and suspicion in his eyes.

 Simon

Baz is focused back on his computer and seeing that he’s not going to admit to his fault anytime soon, I focus my attention more intently on the book in my hand, which I only now realize is upside down. Turning it the right way round, I decide that it can’t hurt to at least attempt to do some reading.

A half hour passes, and I’ve only managed to get through a handful of pages. It’s always been a struggle for me to read quickly, but I’ve got the added distraction of being barely clothed and freezing because the crisp fall air coming in is not a comfort to me anymore. Not that I would ever admit that to Baz by closing the window. I also can’t pull a blanket over me because that would be almost like getting dressed and letting Baz win. Instead, I turn back to the book, which is when I realize that I’m not even on the chapter for this week’s assignment.

Sighing, I close the book with unintended force and toss it aside. The sound draws Baz’s attention, and his gaze flickers from my face to the discarded book, then back to my face, then lower towards—.

He turns back around abruptly, not saying a word.

Hmm. That’s interesting.

Perhaps there’s more to his desire for me to get dressed than he let on. I may be oblivious at times, which Penny never fails to point out, but I’m not an idiot. I can tell that Baz is uncomfortable. And maybe I’m the one who’s being an arse here by refusing to get dressed.

“I’m sorry.” I’m not sure who’s more surprised by the words. It’s what I meant to say, but they came from Baz. “I’m sorry, okay?” He repeats, standing but still not looking at me. Then, “Will you get dressed now?” he asks before storming out of our room, slamming the door behind him and leaving an eerie silence in his wake.

I’m too stunned to move for a moment. That was really strange. I didn’t actually expect Baz to apologize. I thought that we would sit in a tense silence for the rest of the night, and in the morning, when I would be forced to find clothes in order to go to breakfast, I would ask for a new uniform. Baz’s reaction was completely unexpected and leaves me with a whole slew of questions. I can’t just let it go, so I stand and quickly spur into action.

 Baz

I couldn’t stand being in our room for a moment longer. I had to get out of there, and this was the only place I could think of to go. The dark, rat-infested Catacombs, which creates the perfect ambiance for me to sit in self-pity and try not to hate myself for the feelings I’ve been struggling to keep ahold of all night.

Simon was driving me crazy, stretched out on his bead with his gorgeous golden skin and freckles out on display. It was taking everything I had in me not to openly stare at him, which proved extremely difficult when all I wanted to do was reach out and touch.

I was so close to giving in to my deepest desires, which is why I had to leave so abruptly. I wasn’t sure how much longer I could hold onto my self-control. I just need a moment to breathe before I go back, and hopefully, since I apologized, Simon will be fully dressed when I return.

 Simon

I honestly don’t have any clothes of my own that are currently wearable, and I will have to wait until morning to request new ones. (It won’t be anything people aren’t used to. I’m always ruining my clothes in one way or another, especially when I’m going on missions for the Mage.) That only leaves me with two options, and I’m certain that Baz would hate for me to chase after him in nothing but my pants even more than he would if I were to borrow some of his clothes.

I only hesitate briefly before making my way across the room to his wardrobe. I pull out the first things I see, which happen to be a pair of grey joggers that are softer than anything I’ve ever felt and one of his old football jerseys, which is a little worn and faded, but almost as soft as the joggers. I change into them quickly and slip into some shoes before racing after Baz.

I always forget just how fast he can move but am quickly reminded when I step out of [name of the building] and he’s nowhere to be seen. It doesn’t take me long to figure out where he went, though, since I’m almost certain that he wouldn’t head back to the woods after the events that transpired there earlier this evening.

That only leaves one place. The Catacombs.

I spent a lot of time during our 5th year following him around down here, but I haven’t been back here since I confronted him, hoping he would admit to being a vampire but finding him drunk and depressed instead. I felt a little bit bad about intruding on that moment and decided to just leave him be whenever he needed time to disappear down here – I could always prove he was a vampire some other way – but after his reaction in our room, I had to follow him down here to see what was up.

Why would he suddenly give in and apologize? Why would me being so scantily dressed make him so uncomfortable? Whatever the reasons, I still owe him an apology of my own. I pushed him too far, and I never wanted to make him uncomfortable. Irritated? Yes. Annoyed? Absolutely. But uncomfortable? That was never my intention.

It doesn’t take me long to find him, slumped against the wall, head down, and looking exhausted. Our fight earlier must have taken a lot more out of him that he was showing before.

I know he had to have heard him walking towards him, but he doesn’t look up or acknowledge my presence in any way besides the tension now apparent in his jaw.

“Baz,” I begin, but I’m not sure how to finish. I don’t think I’ve ever really apologized to Baz despite the number of times I probably should have. It’s new territory for me, and words have never been my strong suit.

“Why won’t you just leave me alone?” He sneers in typical Baz fashion.

 Baz

I don’t know why I’m so surprised that he followed me down here. He never has been able to let things go.

I can’t quite bring myself to open my eyes, worried that he’ll still be wearing basically nothing and that the sense of calm I was finally beginning to feel will dissipate immediately. I do it immediately because apparently, I am on some sort of masochistic streak.

 Simon

Baz finally opens his eyes, but it seems to take a moment for him to actually notice what I’m wearing. I can see it in his expression the moment he recognizes my clothes as his own because his eyebrows rise almost comically just before he schools his expression back into a sneer.

“Glad to see you finally decided to get dressed,” he murmurs coolly.

I open my mouth to retort but take a deep breath so that my voice is calm when I say, “I don’t want to fight anymore.”

Baz’s sneer shifts slightly into a frown. “Then why did you follow me down here?”

That’s a good question; the answer to which I’m not completely sure of myself when I could have just waited for him to return to the room. For some reason, I felt a sense of urgency in regard to figuring out why he was so upset. I should have expected him to see this as a fight.

“To apologize,” I say because it’s the best answer that I can seem to come up with.

 Baz

I’m not sure that I actually believe that Simon came all the way down here just to apologize, but I decide to hear him out because he sounds like he really means it. And because I would let him do practically anything while he’s wearing my old jersey. (How have I never imagined what he would like in it? And how does he manage to look so bloody attractive despite it not really fitting him?)

Simon is quiet for a while, and I start to wonder if he thinks that simply declaring that he needs to apologize is apology enough. Which it isn’t. And frankly, it's pretty irritating that he would think so. Before I can tell him this, though, he starts to speak.

“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable by refusing to put clothes on. It was stupid of me and honestly such a ridiculous stance to take.” Simon is being strangely honest. I don’t think he’s ever admitted to doing something stupid even though a lot of the stuff he does is frankly very stupid. So, why is he doing this? Why does he care that he was making me uncomfortable when he was so obviously trying to irritate me? What’s the difference and why does it matter to him?

“Thank you.” I’m not sure what else to say. He doesn’t want to argue, so I won’t. And I’m not sure why I’m doing that either. Maybe it’s the look on his face: open and honest. Or maybe it’s because I’m not sure what was worse: him not being dressed or him being dressed in my clothes. Either way, it’s probably best to say whatever I need to get him to leave me alone so that I don’t do something stupid myself.

 Simon

I’m not sure what to do or say now that I have apologized. I should probably just leave, but something is keeping me here. Something that is obviously being unsaid. Something that has likely gone unsaid for a long time. Something that I know I’ll regret saying if I can even possibly find the words. Something I’ve not wanted to admit to myself for so long that I’m only just realizing it now.

“Baz,” I say, again unsure how to complete that sentence but making an attempt anyway, “I hate fighting with you.

 Baz

I find it shocking how much those words seem to hurt me, like each one is a small puncture wound to my barely beating heart. I know it sounds ridiculous – because it absolutely is – but if Simon and I aren’t fighting, what does that leave us as? Just two guys who share a room? That would be even worse than all the fighting. To me anyway, because at least when we’re fighting, he sees me; he interacts with me.

If we’re just acquaintances, will he even notice me? Or will I fall to the background of the hero story he seems to be playing out at the Mage’s insistence?

I want to tell him no, or even just to ask him why he has had the sudden change of heart, but since he just said he didn’t want to fight anymore, it is probably best that I don’t immediately start an argument.

“Okay,” I say even though it’s an added punch to my already wounded heart. “So what does that make us?” I ask because I can’t help it and because I have to know. “Acquaintances? Friends?” I nearly laugh at how implausible the second one sounds. Simon and I could never be friends. We can’t even have an argument without nearly blowing up the school.

“Maybe,” he says with a shrug. “Or…”

 Simon

“Or…” I drift off for a moment, wondering if I’m actually going to do this. Am I really going to risk all of this for the slightest possibility that the way that Baz looked at me earlier actually meant something? What if I’m wrong? What if I change my mind? What if I’m wrong about this feeling in my chest?

I won’t delude myself. I know that there is a slim chance that Baz would ever want to be anything other than enemies with me, but even if there is the most miniscule chance, don’t I owe it to myself – and maybe even to him – to at least try?

If he’s felt this way – the way I’ve felt but am only just now beginning to understand – for any amount of time, wouldn’t it be better to risk it all for something good than to coast through the next two years hating each other or even just ignoring each other’s existence.

It’s a huge leap, and I know I’m setting myself up for something painful, but it’s too late to go back now. I have to push through this. Get it over with and hope for the best.

“Or maybe—,” deep breath “—we could be more than friends.”

The words are out, and there is no taking them back now. I don’t think I would even if I could. It feels good to say them, to put that out there, even though it’s terrifying to wait for his response while he stares at me in a stunned silence.

And then he continues to just silently stare at me, his expression completely unreadable, and I start to wonder if maybe there is a way I can take it all back. Perhaps I could claim some sort of brain injury from our early fight. Or I could say it was all a joke to try to irritate him further. Although that seems senselessly cruel.

And anyway, I don't want to take it back. I put myself out there, and yes, it's terrifying, but I never would have thought I could do something like that. Admit to liking a boy — especially who I have pretended to hate for so long it seems like it might be impossible to get back from that. But I want to try, if he'll let me.

Right now, I just need him to say something. Anything. So that I'm not standing here like a fool.

Finally, his expression shifts, but it's still unreadable, even as he says, "Are you joking?"

I can't tell if he means it in an Are you an idiot? sort of way or a Do you really want that? way.

Hoping it's the latter, I say, "No, I really mean that. I want to be more than friends with you. If you want," I add with slightly less confidence, and I swear if he keeps staring at me without a word, I might go off again. Which would be rather unfortunate because I'd hate to ruin these impossibly soft clothes.

 Baz

I honestly cannot tell whether Simon is joking. He said he wasn't, bit am I really supposed to just take him at his word?

I mean, I guess I could, but it's difficult to leap and hope that he will catch me. I want him to and he's looking at me like he will but….

I have to stop being so negative. If there is any chance that this will go anywhere, then I have to take a chance on Simon. On us.

 Simon

Baz takes a step towards me, and I freeze, not totally sure that he isn't about to throttle me.

He takes another step, and my hand goes instinctively to where the Sword of Mages sits invisible at my hip.

One more step, and there's barely a foot of space between us.

One last step, and his hands are on my face, pulling me closer and stealing my breath away.

 Baz

Simon doesn't make a move to stop me as I move closer to him, slowly as if approaching a deer I hope not to startle before I can catch it. Except, I want to do a very different thing with my mouth once I get my hands on Simon than I would do with the deer.

He doesn't flinch when I bring my hands up to his face, and that's when I start to fully believe that this is real. That he was being genuine about what he wanted.

I take a moment to stare into his ordinary blue eyes for a moment, making sure that there's no uncertainty in them before closing the distance between us.

 Simon

The kiss starts out soft and gentle as our lips hesitantly press together, then once we get the feel for each other, we both start to lean into it and deepen the kiss.

Eventually, one of my hands finds its way into his hair, tangling there, while the other settles on his hips, gently pinning him to the wall. One of his hands slides down to the back of my neck, holding me there against him like he never wants to let go, while the other travels slowly down to the edge of my shirt — or rather, his shirt — before dipping under where the chill of his touch sends shivers throughout my entire body.

I never thought that being with Baz like this would feel so good.

 Baz

I'm not entirely sure how long Simon and I spend down in the Catacombs, exploring each other's mouths and pushing and pulling at each other ever so slightly, almost like we're so used to fighting that we still do it even when we're kissing. All I know is that when we finally emerge into the late night, Simon's hand is in mine, and I can't seem to stop smiling.

Our earlier fight has been all but forgotten, and I'm trying to figure out a way that I can get him to wear my clothes more often. He's gorgeous in them, and I can't seem to keep my hands off of him when his arse looks like that in my joggers. Something about it just gets to me.

It's safe to say that we do more kissing than sleeping that night, but the sleep deprivation is worth it because when Simon asks if this makes us boyfriends somewhere around 3 in the morning, I don't hesitate to say yes.

I'm not completely sure how we went from nearly burning down the woods to dating, but I will say that this has truly been the happiest day of my life so far.

#snowbaz #snowbaz fic #the simon snow series #co/ws/awtwb #rainbow rowell #my writing #corb 2022 #carry on reverse bang #kiss and make up #20 first kisses

[confused-bi-queer]

Good morning and thank you for tagging me @johnwgrey !!!

Wednesday, huh? I’ve been bit slow about writing since I’m dealing with a class that sucks my energy out, which makes me feel a bit guilty that I’m taking so long in updating my fics, so I’m going to share bits of the chapters I’ve been stuck in writing. Prepare for a fooking whiplash!

First off, my COBB, the ballet AU, since chapter 4 will be up this friday (or maybe the weekend):

I go after Baz.

He sees me approaching and raises his hand, stopping me from steeping too close.

“Not today, Snow,” he warns, rubbing his temples.

He must be faking it; he can’t possibly have gotten a headache the moment I got close to him.

“Why were you so close to Agatha?” I ask, but my tone is mostly accusingly.

“Snow, please.”

“What are you—”

He doesn’t let me finish; he grabs the front of my shirt and shoves me against the barre.

“I said not today, Snow!” he yells at me.

I grab his hands softly when I see how red his eyes are. He’s been crying.

“Baz—”

“Don’t you dare to fucking touch me.”

When he blinks, a tear escapes him.

“I’m so sorry, Baz, I didn’t know you—”

You know how these two like fighting so much.

Now, for my CORB, the regency AU, have some Agatha telling Baz about Niamh. ((You people are really not prepared for this chapter. When I get into really writing this fic, it’s over.))

“My wish was to stay single for as long as I could, but my heart couldn’t stop itself from bursting when I watched her taking care of a baby goat as I watched her do her job. And she didn’t wish to bring me down to poverty when you and I could get married to do whatever we want, but I don’t want her to be considered an affair.”

AND, NOW, my so abandoned (I’m sorry Marta haha) but still in my mind WIP fest, meaning: ⚠️⚠️⚠️SPICY UNDER THE CUT ⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️ 

Porn, Baz with a tail, and dom/sub shit! My usual like for writing smut. (This is Baz’s pov!!)

“That’s not what I asked you to repeat.”

He withdraws his fingers slightly, leaving only the tips inside me for a moment before starting stretching me with three fingers instead. I moan.

“I requested something.”

“I don’t remember,” I cry as he slams his palm against my arse. “Fuck...”

“Are you stupid or what?” he asks. “You’re a stupid whore who wants my cock.”

“I’m a stupid whore who wants your cock,” I say quickly.

He chuckles; this is the first time I really feel like I’m giving into whatever he asks me to do. I’ll do whatever he wants if it gets me fucked.

You know, I love the domSimon/subBaz dynamics, my ao3 fics confirms that, and I wasn’t really a fan of bottomSimon, like I never pictured him like that. However ✨domBaz✨ and since this fic is Baz with a tail and Simon into being choked (a little joke since he never shuts up about it), I’ll rewrite a few things before publishing the following chapter.

Also, Time hasn’t been on my side, but for these fics (thanks to wipsday for reminding me i love writing), i’ll stop giving a fuck bout not having it. Fuck time.

Now tagging: @aroace-genderfluid-sheep @wellbelesbian @artsyunderstudy @cutestkilla @moodandmist @castawaypitch @letraspal @dragoneggo @captain-aralias @martsonmars @fatalfangirl @facewithoutheart @bookish-bogwitch @takitalks @erzbethluna @urban-sith @ic3-que3n @ionlydrinkhotwater @ileadacharmedlife @ivelovedhimthroughworse @angelsfalling16 @foolofabookwyrm-activated @bazzybelle @palimpsessed @aristocratic-otter @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @forabeatofadrum @tea-brigade @sillyunicorn @whatevertheweather @basiltonbutliketheherb

#spicy under the cut #wip wednesday #WIPsday #CORB teaser #COBB teaser #wip Fest #snowbaz

[facewithoutheart]

"Firefly On" and your poor COTTA!

Firefly On is my snowbaz Firefly AU where the Mage serves as the Operative and Simon is determined to bring magic to everyone versus the Alliance which wants to keep it only for the wealthy. Instead of a straight up Simon as Mal and Baz as Inara, I envision Baz as the Doctor and Mordelia as River, with a fun straight-bait of Agatha as Inara instead. No snippets because I only outlined this fic and no plans to write it anytime soon but I do love the concept. (Penny is obv Zoe and Shepard is Wash. Curse my sudden and inevitable casting.)

As for my COTTA, I had to drop it because my stupid life overwhelmed me and I didn’t want the emotional stress of another fest. But I do want to write this as an original novel someday about Eagle Squadron, the American volunteer wing of the RAF before the US officially joined WWII. Simon as the Texan (duh) volunteer pilot and Baz as the stuffy British commander. Baz obviously falls for Simon who’s got a sweetheart (Agatha) at home. I have this super clear image of Baz confessing and kissing Simon before the US forces absorb the Eagle Squadron pilots and Simon having to fight the war while having a sexuality crisis. Maybe there’s a brief MIA scene? I dunno. I felt like only a longfic would do this justice and I am Maxed Out.

#ask game #wip folder #this is my wipsday lol

[sailorblossoms]

We gotta talk about Baz vampire strength and speed like the boy could rip off and throw away a fucking tree and could snap a gun (can't be bothered to remember what kind) in half and then he could run and catch up with a moving truck in the highway to rip off a monster from it!!

I know his struggles with his own "monsterhood" makes him repress his vampire powers, especially in battle, where he refuses to fight as anything other than a mage. Only Simon getting hurt makes him "go berserk" in a way. His friends being in danger has made him rely on his vampire powers too, but he still holds back then (hence Penny being like "you really forget how scary Baz can be" when he runs alongside the truck and Simon "Mr I will kill a bitch first and ask questions later" being like "Baz never learned how to fight with his fists" and when they were cornered by the monsters in the desert "Baz is the stronger person here so why the fuck isn't he snapping these fuckers in half").

Baz could snap a bitch in half, but he doesn't want to. I wouldn't be surprised if he didn't want to learn how to "properly fight" with his fists in the first place (even though he finds Simon, who knows how to fight, beautiful in battle, but that's because it's Simon) because he most likely spend his entire life repressing his super strength, scared as hell of what could happen and how monstrous he could be if he didn't hold back and bad shit happened. I keep thinking about dumb teenage Simon and Baz getting into physical fights, and it would have been so easy for Baz "I can rip off trees" to lose control and accidentally kill Simon with a punch, meaning that even when he "hated" Simon, even when Simon broke his fucking nose, he was under unbelievable repression and self-control, especially for his age. Which farther proves how Baz was never really evil: he could've caused serious damage, but instead was getting into stupid shoving contests with a human boy while clearly using just normal human strength (otherwise we would have learned of Simon fucking flying into another room and getting srly hurt whenever Baz pushed him!)

Anyway, I wish this could've been explored more, and that Baz got comfortable enough to unleash his vampire powers in a fight too because honestly they're cool as fuck! (especially given that the person who has them genuinely cares about not hurting others, so when he does use it, you know it's cuz a bitch has it coming)

#snowbaz #baz pitch #simon snow #carry on #wayward son #awtwb #baz grimm pitch #baz x simon #just some superpower rambles

[keypilation]

snowbaz fic rec list

My long ass fic rec list just because snowbaz is everything. The ones marked with a ♥ are my personal favorites.

Long ones:

rebel rebel by BasicBathsheba  ♥ Baz Pitch loves, in no particular order: David Bowie, punk music, the feel of old vinyl, the smell of coffe (but not the taste), classic books, magic, David Byrne, the fact that he was raised by his aunt Fiona, and maybe, sometimes, Simon Snow. (183k)

Take on Me by BasicBathsheba Baz Pitch is an overworked uni student who -- between his heavy course load and his shifts at his aunt's bookstore -- is stressed all the time. But when Simon Snow, a lit student with a short temper who's trying to distance himself from his bad history, starts working at the bookstore, Baz's life gets infinitely more stressful. (49k)

So This is Christmas by KrisRix ♥ Simon Snow hasn't got a clue as to why he doesn't want to fight his vampire nemesis to the death. All he's got is a stupid plan to pretend that he and Baz are dating so that The Mage won't make them fight. Baz Pitch has got an envelope bursting with money and a burning desire to enjoy whatever time he can with the boy he loves. (57k)

Local Hero by BasicBathsheba and breadofgod There is nothing Simon Snow loves more in life than football. And there's really nothing in Baz Pitch's life other than football. (56k)

The Truth Will Set You Free by sorbriquette Simon casts a truth spell on Baz that only works if the target has something they want to tell you but won't. They can't stop telling the truth until they confess what they want to. (45k)

Love Is Always in Style by rainbowbaz When Simon gets offered a job at the glamorous, high-fashion Natasha Magazine, he can hardly believe his luck. But being assistant to the complicated, rude, and quite frankly beautiful Editor-in-Chief Basilton Pitch makes his job a lot more difficult than he expected. (39k)

This Must Be The Place by BasicBathsheba  ♥ Simon is stuck in juvenile care over the summer. He's lonely, disillusioned, and desperate to talk to Penny. But when he makes a Snapchat to try to contact her, he ends up talking to the most unlikely person. (36k)

network connectivity problems by BasicBathsheba  ♥ [UNKNOWN NUMBER]: (10:45): i mean like, how should i fix this BAZ PITCH: (10:46): Why would I know? [UNKNOWN NUMBER]: (10:46): you're tech support? BAZ PITCH: (10:47): I most definetely am not. (35k)

Madly On by saltfromthesea It's been six years since Baz and Simon broke up, six years since Baz went off the map. For all intents and purposes, they're out of each other's lives. But when chance--and maybe a little bit of fate and Penelope Bunce--throws them back together, they have to face the things that made them split up in the first place...and decide once on for all if they really are meant to be apart. (27k)

Keep Calm by aralias ♥ The kidnapping attempt fails, but it’s not the Mage’s only scheme. Eighth year begins. Tyrannus Basilton Pitch returns for the start of term – and finds his roommate missing. (68k)

Classroom Politics by aralias At twenty-five, Simon Snow’s life is finally on the up. He’s got his magic back, people listen to him, and he can draw the Sword of Mages. A lot of people think he should lead the Coven. But not everyone. The Old Families still see Simon as their enemy and they’re quite willing to quote obscure magickal law to stop him ascending to Mage. (40k)

Happy People Shine Brighter by EllisyaSyron After Simon goes off on Baz by accident, he begins to question why they are fighting at all. As the two start to learn to trust each other, a new threat looms: where are all these were beasts coming from? (57k)

Jesus Was a Cross Maker by EllisyaSyron [Sequel of Happy People Shine Brighter] Everyone is reeling from the confrontation with Dr Lang, and Penny, Baz, and Simon are forced to spend the summer alone with their thoughts. When they get back to school in the fall, everything is different. (61k)

Give ‘em hell, kid by fox_pitch  ♥ TOUR ANNOUNCEMENT: The famously theatrical pop-punk quintet BAZ PITCH AND THE DARK CREATURES have announced a five date UK tour fresh off the release of their debut album CATACOMBS (4* review, page 17).Simon Snow, folk punk newcomer, to support. (34k)

Dream with Eyes Open by KrisRix All Simon wants is to plague Baz with thoughts of him, give Baz a taste of his own medicine. All Simon wants is to be on Baz's mind so much, he can’t focus. Can’t work on coming up with a spell to end Simon. (32k)

Holding Out For A Hero by sconelover Simon Snow is just like everyone else. He has a job managing a bakery and dirty mugs piling up in his room. Except for just one thing: he moonlights as a superhero, The Golden Blade, official protector of Watford City. And a new nemesis has arisen, wreaking havoc and mayhem upon the citizens: the sinister, mysterious Vampire. (93k)

Hang the Moon by aralias  ♥ Fighting one war is bad enough; three is almost impossible. That’s why, when the Old Families offer the Mage a deal that will put an end to their conflict, he accepts. Simon hates everything about the deal. (And his life. And he definitely hates Baz.) (29k)

All this souldmate shit by half_witch Simon has learned to despise his ‘evil anti-friendmate’ Baz despite being connected to him through magic their entire lives. From sharing luck at ten years old, to mind reading at twelve, to teleportation at seventeen, and the Red String of Fate at twenty—Simon and Baz know only three rules. (31k)

Game / Set / Match by NineMagicks It's the beginning of the end for former up-and-coming tennis sensation, Simon Snow. He used to care about his career, and thought he might actually make something of himself - but as always, he was left eternally chasing Baz Pitch's shadow. Months since Simon last made an effort, and years after either of them won anything of note, these two once-bright stars are on a collision course to meet at the tennis calendar's most prestigious event, the Watford Open. (121k)

Once more, with feeling by fox_pitch Simon's moving out and moving on. Baz still can't work out where it all went so hideously wrong. Penny's in denial, Agatha's reluctant to put down roots, and Shepard - well, Shepard is probably doing just fine, I haven't actually asked him. It's Monday the 23rd of March 2020 and the UK is just about to be plunged into lockdown.But this lot don't know that yet. (26k)

A Light From Miles Away by stillmadaboutpetra On June 3rd, at the end of their seventh year, the Humdrum pulls Simon and Penelope to Lancashire. There, Simon destroys it at the cost of his own life. On June 6th, Simon Snow appears out of a portal on the bedroom of a home in Lake Charles, Louisiana. The World of Mages think he's dead. Except for Penelope. And Baz. (67k)

No Tomorrow by Spockzilla  ♥ “Why didn’t you wake me?” I growl groggily into my pillow. “It’s not my job to wake you up. Get an alarm clock, you fucking numpty,” he snaps. I wonder if super hearing is a vampire thing. “You threw my alarm clock into the moat first year!” I shout over the music. “Not my problem,” he says, as he slams the door shut behind him. (42k)

Twelve Days of Christmas by Spockzilla Baz finally gets to spend the holidays with the person he loves the most. That is, after Simon has no choice but to go spend Christmas with Baz at Pitch Manor. Baz is trying to get Simon into the holiday spirit while Simon is trying to get out of Baz’s house. Then a mysterious gift arrives. (100k)

Every Living Thing by MeredithKSparrow Simon has acres of grass to mow, rampant ivy to battle, and a grave to dig. Baz has a list to write. A very long one. Neither of them has time for distracting crushes, parental-expectations, the end of the world, or cemetery stakeouts at midnight with irritatingly fit guys. Oh, and there are wings. (68k)

It's a Wonderful Watford Life by MeredithKSparrow It’s a Snow/Baz version of the Christmas movie It’s a Wonderful Life, in which Baz gets to see what the world of mages would have been like if he’d never been born. (39k)

Short ones (less than 25k- yes that’s short for me):

Everything's Coming Up Roses by annabellelux During a fight over Agatha, Simon accidentally curses Baz with a dangerous love disease. Baz now has three options: find a way to get the object of his affections to return his romantic feelings, undergo a surgery that will take his magic away, or die. (11k)

A Room Just for Two by KrisRix Eight weeks into their final year at Watford, Baz finally returns--and he's riddled with nightmares. Simon, for more reasons than he'd like to think about, has been sleeping poorly too. Their room atop the tower becomes a place where they can talk and ache and profess and yearn, slowly, slowly. (23k)

Sweet Dreams by annabellelux Simon comes back to eighth year with persistent nightmares, and Baz just wants to help by spelling him with Sweet Dreams. But when Simon's nightmares about the Humdrum start becoming romantic dreams about his nemesis... he gets suspicious. (23k)

Night After Night by sorbriquette It's not something I ever thought I'd be doing, crawling into bed with Baz in the wake of my nightmares. They're not just nightmares anymore though, are they? Because the Humdrum can summon me. It could summon me at any moment. That’s why this makes sense. Baz is a brilliant magician and just brilliant in general. (21k)

Kiss It Better by KrisRix It's a snow day at Watford! Simon is thrilled and wants to play and explore. Baz is cold and hungry and needs to hunt. When their paths cross in the Wavering Wood, the enchanting winter wonderland sets the perfect atmosphere for flirting—until a goblin attack slices through their moment. (16k)

Mind Games by BasicBathsheba Seventh year Watford students are required to take part in the eighth year Psychology of Magick lab studies. Simon loves it. Baz hates it. But when they get paired together for a school project that requires deep, personal conversation, little do they know, there’s more to the project than just getting to know each other. (12k)

An Academic Offensive by SHARKMARTINI ♥ In which Simon and Baz share a room at the top of a tower, hate each other's guts, and reluctantly form a truce. (19k)

Afterhours by annabellelux ♥ Simon Snow and Baz Pitch are notoriously the worst uni roommates that have ever roomed together. Luckily, they've nearly survived the year, if only they can get through one last night… which would be easy enough, if they didn't happen to be hanging out at the same club. (14k)

I Believe This Is Yours by BasicBathsheba “Cinderella soul mate — when you lose things it ends up with your soul mate.” Simon's soul mate loses a book a day. Baz's soul mate never loses anything. (12k)

You Found Me by messofthejess "If you'd have been there, Snow, all the numpties would have been dead." "Maybe." Simon sticks his chin out. "But it wouldn't have taken six weeks." In which it still takes six weeks to find Baz, but Simon's the one doing the searching. (18k)

THE WEKEEND by BasicBathsheba  The Magical Adaptability Weekend is miserable. It’s freezing, there’s no food, and not enough beds. Simon’s unhappy enough about being stuck in the middle of nowhere with his homicidal roommate, but to make things worse, his classmates are being dicks, there may be a banshee on the prowl, and Baz is trying to summon a demon. (14k)

VOODOO by SHARKMARTINI When Penny learns something private about Baz, it brings them closer together. Or it would, if Simon wasn’t always so insistent on getting between them. (10k)

Do you want to know a secret? by bazzzzz Baz has a diary where he neatly writes all of his most deeply hidden thoughts and feelings. He thinks Simon will never find out where it is, but… Well, he does. And yep, he’s going to read it. After all, he has to know if Baz is plotting something, right? (10k)

Looking Glass by KrisRix This time, Baz really is up to something—he's sneaking around the Weeping Tower and opening a mysterious door that definitely wasn't there before. But the only thing Simon can focus on is the strange magickal mirror that keeps glinting at him knowingly.... (11k)

Rain Will Make The Flowers by fel24601 “Maybe you’re getting sick,” I say. “I don’t get sick,” Baz says. “Because you’re a vampire?” “No.” 8th year AU inspired by the Hanahaki Disease trope. (15k)

Much Ado About Snowbaz by GallaPlacidia When Agatha and Dev finally start dating, they decide to trick Simon and Baz into falling in love with each other. All they have to do is convince both of them that the other is in love with them. What could go wrong? It's just a gay Watford Shakespeare fanfic you guys. (19k)

Four Funereal Weddings and an American Stag Do by aralias AWTWB AU - Simon walks out in chapter 10 and doesn't come back. Nine months later, Baz sees him at a wedding. (21k)

Snowbaz at Oxford by GallaPlacidia Simon hates his posh Oxford suite mate. Baz can't help it that he has resting-bitch face and a voice so rich that it makes people want to start a Communist uprising. Basically, it's Carry On at Oxford without magic or plot. (9k)

drop the act by basl “Do you really not care that you have to be part of the drama club?” “Theatre is perfectly dignified, Snow,” Baz says, not even turning back to look at me. or Simon and Baz are forced to join the drama club to get extra credits. (16k)

To be continued...

#snowbaz