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It's... Monday! I didn't post yesterday cause I, uh, was finishing up Persona 5 Strikers. Thanks @you-remind-me-of-the-babe and @kurtsascot for the tags.

As usual, I have some MCD for you. Matt might not care for Simon, but Ryan does.

Ryan gives me another rose, although he tells me that if he plucks more of them, he might lose his job. “Blame Simon Snow!” I say. “Being run over by Simon Snow is a fucking dream to me, mate,” Ryan says back before wishing me good luck and walking away. Right. At least my crush on Agatha Wellbelove has subdued since the last year. Ryan is still gagging after the great Chosen One.

(Johnson: Also, heya, Johnson here LOL! Thanks for the concern about my job with the Woods but no worries, brah, I got this. As in, I don't exist outside the main story beats and Matty Chris D. is literally almost never in the Woods, so in that sense, do I even have a job??? Does everything just happen off-page???? Does Matty never question it and just infer the rest of my existence??? lmao.)

And now, the weather: @quizasvivamos @coffeegleek @caramelcoffeeaddict @raenestee @tectonicduck @nightimedreamersworld @urban-sith @bookish-bogwitch @confused-bi-queer @that-disabled-princess @special-bc-ur-part-of-it @larkral @cutestkilla ​ @wellbelesbian ​ @artsyunderstudy ​ @facewithoutheart ​ @shrekgogurt @rockitmans @bitbybitwrites @whatevertheweather @theotherhufflepuff @shame-is-a-wasted-emotion @esilher @blackberrysummer @nightimedreamersghost @ivelovedhimthroughworse @thnxforknowingme

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could you imagine being someone at watford during carry on?

in half your classes simon is smoking so much it’s making you sick, you can barely focus. baz is no where to be seen but the two of them have always been a packaged deal before…it’s strange without the spit wads and punches always been exchanged…

then baz is back! not that you care, you were just getting used to the relative silence (despite the humdrum’s attacks). you’re studying for midterms in the library and you are suddenly magically pulled to see simon outside fighting a dragon . with baz. as soon as the spell wears off, you go back inside. you’re sick of their drama and you have tests.

the fighting that had been a near constant for all of your watford years seems to be missing, you notice, being nostalgic about your last year. some crazy stuff seems to have happened, and simon and that girl he always hangs out with—penelope?—never came back. baz delivers a speech without once being interrupted by simon yelling about vampires. you’re idly wondering where exactly the chosen one could have gone after his prophecy had been fufilled, when you seeing baz-bloody-pitch DANCING with simon snow!! and then they KISS, in front of EVERYONE. you’re dumbfounded. their rivalry practically was the graduating year’s defining trait!

“what the actual fuck” you think to yourself

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quinniiieeeee

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WIP Friday (Actually Thursday and Wednesday but I can't move my ass segment)

Thank you so much @fallevs and @forabeatofadrum for tagging me. Ily❤️

I don't have much to share. I am fucking exhausted although I have n number of ideas for big and small fics. I am trying to work on kiss prompts for now. But that is not working out too. I really want to complete the already existing Wip and write a big one. But alas!

@fallevs I am actually working on your kliss prompt. Its a funny set up I picked from Instagram(I suppose it was from a series)

Maybe I can share a little nugget of it. Warning: I'm am writing like a medschool essay. So average wordings and no feelings

Blaine had been waiting for a day off for a long time from his work to come here. Disneyland was one of his favourite places on the planet. It would have been better if he could have brought someone with him but his colleagues had their “plans”. His nephew loved Disneyland just like him but Cooper had gone on a vacation to Italy with his family.

Although Blaine could feel the high and euphoria of visiting Disneyland, going to all the rides out there, he had to make a stop at a point. And so he decided to stand in the never ending queue of his favourite bakery in the place to get his favourite Café Mocha and Matterhorn Macaroon.

Interested Aurora? I'll try delivering it as soon as possible.

Okay now for the crowd: @kurtsascot @bitbybitwrites @kirakiwiwrites @rockitmans @cryscendo @england-would-fall @spaceorphan18 @sparklepocalypse @special-bc-ur-part-of-it

And for some strokes: @justgleekout @mynonah @esilher @porcelainvino

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WIP Wednesday

Thank you to those who've been tagging me these past few weeks despite me never participating @wellbelesbian/@nausikaaa @forabeatofadrum @best--dress @stitchyqueer

@noblecorgi @run-for-chamo-miles @hushed-chorus @cutestkilla @you-remind-me-of-the-babe

@youarenevertooold @alexalexinii @artsyunderstudy @cosmicalart 💖💖

I've been quietly working on some WIPs I'm not ready to share for personal/mental health reasons, but I read back through an old (really old, from 2021 old) WIP this morning, and wow I am a great writer. And the WIP is almost 6k words?!?! Things were really different back then, huh?

The premise of the fic is that the final showdown happens, but instead of killing Baz, Simon runs away with him and they get a flat together while they let the adults fight their war.

Lengthy snippet under the cut.

Baz:

“Why are you here, Fiona?” I reiterate.

“Let’s see.” She starts ticking things off on her fingers. “You didn’t come home for Christmas. Your parents were worried about you. The last time no one could find you, you were trapped in a coffin for six weeks. I wanted to know if you had taken down the Chosen One yet. And I wanted to know what you were doing in a shitty flat. And while we’re at it...” Fiona grins wickedly. Simon and my aunt would make a terrifying duo. “Who’s your flatmate?”

“What makes you think I have a flatmate?”

“Why are there two bedrooms in this flat, then?”

“There are loads of reasons I could have two rooms, Fiona.”

“Then explain the takeout,” Fiona says, pointing to the kitchen. “And your face. Who are you hiding, Basil?”

Sighing, I drag a hand through my hair and down my face.

“Snow,” I call. “Come out and meet my aunt.”

Simon:

I’m dead terrified as I walk out into the living room.

“You’re fucking the Chosen One?” Fiona Pitch exclaims when she sees me, jumping up from where she was previously seated on the couch.

“Not fucking,” Baz corrects. “Snogging.”

I blush.

“You’re snogging the Chosen One?” she shrieks.

Past me was really great at this, wasn't she? Also I apparently used to swear a lot more when writing, too xD I've deleted a lot of "fuck"s haha.

Tagging back everyone above for Sunday plus @bazzybelle @hoothalcyon @valeffelees @iamamythologicalcreature @confused-bi-queer <22

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Hello, hello! I'm tagging @that-disabled-princess back! It's another Thursday, which means I have updated Just Some Guy!

He just lives here. He has no time for the Chosen One shenanigans:

“Simon Snow is always up and running,” Scott nods as well. Just when Scott says that, I hear a small explosion coming from the Wavering Woods and on a cue, Simon Snow and Penelope Bunce run towards it. Agatha Wellbelove watches them leave. So do we. This is a normal occurrence. Even the smoke coming from the Woods doesn’t faze me anymore. I do feel back for John, who now also manages the Woods for his side job. Can Simon Snow please let anything outside of Watford explode for once?

In Simon's defense, he HAS destructed more than Watford, but good ole MCD doesn't know.

And now, the weather: @quizasvivamos @coffeegleek @caramelcoffeeaddict @raenestee @tectonicduck @nightimedreamersworld @urban-sith @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @bookish-bogwitch @confused-bi-queer @special-bc-ur-part-of-it @larkral @cutestkilla ​ @wellbelesbian ​ @artsyunderstudy ​ @facewithoutheart ​ @shrekgogurt @rockitmans @bitbybitwrites @whatevertheweather @theotherhufflepuff @shame-is-a-wasted-emotion @esilher @kurtsascot @blackberrysummerblog @nightimedreamers @ivelovedhimthroughworse @thnxforknowingme

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Just Some Guy (5/9)

Notes: Buckle up, folks. It's a big year for Matt!

AO3

–

Year 5

MATT

All my belief in love has been crushed.

I’ve only been back at Watford for my fifth year for a month or so, and then I hear that Agatha Wellbelove is officially dating Simon Snow. The majority of students of our year (and of other years) are all in mourning.

Leslie tells me and the other guys, apart from Ryan, obviously, to get over ourselves.

“Agatha Wellbelove isn’t some kind of property or prize at the end of the road!” she exclaims, “She’s her own person who can make her own choices and she chose Simon Snow!”

Leslie is right, of course. It’s all up to Agatha, and why would she have ever picked anyone else, me specifically? We’ve been in the same class for 5 years and whereas I do think she knows my name (a thought that flatters me immensely), I don’t think she really knows me. We had that Elocution project two years ago, but aside from that, we barely talked.

Still, I sulk and I am disappointed.

Well, I suppose Leslie is also right with her idea that I need to get over her. My year in America didn’t push away the feelings, but back then I still had unreasonable hope. That’s gone, now. That does mean my only (small) interest in Simon Snow’s whereabouts have vanished as snow before the sun.

Hooray?

--

Feelings don’t magickally disappear, especially when those feelings have been with you for 5 years.

The Humdrum attacked Watford again. It’s big news, since it’s a repeated attack. The Humdrum doesn’t do repeats, but I guess he (it?) must have a sweet spot for Paindeer. A big herd of Paindeer interrupted a lacrosse thing. A match? A competition? A friendly game somewhere? I don’t care. It was a lacrosse thing and that’s all that matters to me, because Agatha Wellbelove is on the team.

I don’t know if Agatha herself was there during the attack. I heard the Paindeer trapped some players against a fence, which caused a lot of fear and panic, and then Simon Snow saved the day. Even so, all lacrosse players are ruffled.

“Stop looking,” Leslie hisses.

But I can’t.

Because Agatha Wellbelove is right there on the Great Lawn. She’s being held by Simon Snow. They’re on the floor, she’s in his lap, he’s whispering things in her ear and rubbing her arm in a soothing manner. He’s probably comforting her.

Gosh, I almost wish I was the one saving the day, just so I could comfort her like that. I wish I could make Agatha feel safe.

But I am no Chosen One. I am just some guy. And maybe I shouldn’t want to trade with Simon Snow.

Leslie lets out a sigh.

Then the Mage walks up to Simon and Agatha. He barks some orders at Simon. Simon looks puzzled and says something back, tightening the grip around Agatha’s waist. But the Mage isn’t having any of it. Simon Snow, the Chosen One, is needed.

Simon kisses Agatha, gets up, and follows the Mage.

Agatha is left behind on her own. She stares after Simon for a while.

Maybe now’s my chance.

But then she walks away.

--

I’ve been keeping up with my birdwatch hobby. Who would’ve thought? Back when the Cordero family first asked me to join them on their birdwatch hikes, I was really dreading it, but here I am. The World of Mages has some magickal birds that I would love to see.

One of them only shows up at night, though. John told me about it and he insisted that I should look for it today. I didn’t know John was interested in birds as well, but he just said he loves chirping in any way.

John even helped me sneak out of our room. He’s staying behind to cover for me, just in case. This is kind of exhilarating. I am not a rule breaker, overall. It is definitely not encouraged to go into the forest at night, but it is kind of exciting.

After a few minutes, I finally see the bird that I have been looking for. It is a magickal cuckoo. These birds love to manipulate you, but if you can see through their attempts to fool or distract you, you will be rewarded with the option to ask them to tell you your fortune.

I want to know if I ever get a girlfriend.

It doesn’t even have to be Agatha Wellbelove at this point, but Crowley, please, let me get a girlfriend!

It’s very important information.

(Don’t judge me. I’m fifteen and heartbroken and desperate!)

I take out my magickal binoculars. They’re spelled for wonderful night vision and it makes it more easy to zoom in. Mr. Cordero clearly put a lot of effort into it. It pays off, because I am a bit out of sight. I don’t want to get too close, because I don’t want to scare the bird off.

These binoculars also help seeing through the manipulation of the bird. The bird watches me and slowly starts to shimmer.

I did it!

The magickal cuckoo lets out a cry and I know it is my time to wish.

“Dear cuckoo, will I get a nice girlfriend?” I ask.

The cuckoo shimmers a bit more, which means it’s reading my fortune.

I am so entranced by the sight of this bird that I barely notice the bickering in the distance. I mean, it’s annoying, for sure, but the bird is fine with it.

I do definitely notice the fucking explosion, though. I feel the heat of the Chosen One’s magic before it actually hits me, so in panic I throw myself on the floor in the hopes of this magickal wave going over me.

It works. Sort of.

I wait for the magic to be gone. I can hear the Chosen One and that annoying Pitch Heir yell at each other about a Chimera, or something, so I see that as a sign that whatever they fought is gone. I slowly sit up and reach for the binoculars.

This evening did not go the way I planned, but the Chosen One’s bullshit won’t stop me from enjoying my bird.

But once I look through my binoculars, all I see are the charred remains of the bird I’ve adored so much.

The magickal cuckoo didn’t even give me an answer about the future!

At moments like this, I wish the Humdrum could just kill me.

--

I completely miss the drama till dinner.

John and I were building a model train set in our room, so we completely missed the upheaval. I see that Sam has tried to call us some times, but we both had turned off our phones. But when John and I set foot into the dining hall, our friends are basically ready to jump on us with the latest news.

Phillipa Stainton lost her voice.

I try not to care too much about all the shit that happens at Watford, otherwise I’d go mad, but this has rattled the entire student body to the bone. No one’s ever heard of a mage magickally losing their voice.

“What happened?” I ask my friends.

“No one knows,” Leslie answers.

“She went to see Simon, and suddenly her voice started squeaking and it just disappeared,” Scott says. He was there when it happened. He was walking around the Great Lawn with Ryan, who wanted to peek at Simon Snow.

(And people tell us to get over Agatha Wellbelove, now that she’s taken. Ryan should get over Simon Snow, since he’s taken too!)

“So, it was Simon Snow?” Luis asks, baffled.

Ryan shakes his head.

“I don’t think so, and I’m not just saying this because I fancy him.”

He adds the last part hurriedly.

“I’ve heard that Simon Snow blames Baz Pitch,” Arnold says.

“Of course he does,” Sam says and we all sigh, apart from John.

Of course he does. No offense to Simon, but he blames the Pitch Heir for everything. It’s kind of hard to take him seriously.

Leslie frowns.

“The world is changing right before our eyes,” she says.

It’s weird. I don’t want things to change. I am just some guy. I want to live my life in peace. Man, I really, really wish I were living in uninteresting times.

--

I fucking hate Political Science. I just don’t care a lot about politics. That’s probably why I don’t really give a shit about whatever Simon Snow and Baz Pitch have got going on.

Luis tells me that I’m privileged enough to not care about politics, and I suppose he’s right. I am the most basic person ever. But come on, can’t I have this?

And besides, there are people more privileged than I am! Baz Pitch is rich, and he’s the one currently calling for revolt.

We had to write an assignment about how the Mage got to power and of course Baz Pitch sees that as a perfect opportunity to spread the Old Families’ agenda.

Simon and Baz are having a full-blown discussion right in front of us. The teacher isn’t even intervening, because this is probably the most interesting thing that’s ever happened in this class, but come on. This is just so fucking annoying.

And yes, I know these guys probably have some points and what not. I sometimes still remember that time John and I saw Simon coming home from a mission during our second year. Something like that isn’t easy to forget, so yes, I try to listen and be sympathetic, but at this rate everyone’s tired of whatever rivalry is happening.

Let me write my essay in peace!

--

John and I walk up to our tower. We’re busy discussing our next chess moves when John promptly pushes me against the wall of the stairwell. He’s right on time, because the moment the two of us are safe against the wall, Simon fucking Snow tumbles down the stairs.

We watch him tumble down in silence. We’re a bit shocked, I think. We don’t go after him to help, since we’re frozen. I mean, to be fair to us, we didn’t expect the potential Saviour of the World of Mages to just fall down the stairs. We hear him land at the bottom of the staircase with a thud.

That snaps us out of it. John and I exchange a worried look. Then John looks up to something behind me. I also turn around and I see Baz Pitch of all people at the top of the stairs. His eyes are wide and his mouth is agape. I think he’s shocked as well. When he sees us staring, he looks away.

Then he rushes off.

John is the first to react. I’m still standing there like an absolute idiot, but John’s already gone down.

“Hey, you alright?” I hear him, so I also descent the staircase.

Simon Snow’s sitting on the ground and he looks dumbfounded, as if he’s trying to comprehend what just happened? Did that Pitch Heir push him down the stairs? John’s trying to help him up.

“Do we need to take you to Miss Christy?” I ask.

“’m fine,” Simon mumbles and he pushes John away. I realise that this is the first time John and I have ever spoken to him.

“You’re not fine,” John says.

“I said I am fine,” Simon bites out, loudly. Both John and I are shocked by this change of tone.

John and I don’t know what to do. We take a step back and watch how Simon gets up. He doesn’t struggle, but I don’t know if he’s trying to look tough for us, which is ridiculous. He doesn’t need to impress us.

“Penny is near the Wavering Woods,” John suddenly says.

Simon narrows his eyes for a second, but John doesn’t add more. He also doesn’t explain why he knows this, and Simon doesn’t know that John just… knows things.

“Alright, thanks,” he eventually says and walks away without a word.

What an ass, I think, before I remind myself that this guy just fell down the fucking stairs.

I watch him walk away and I am suddenly reminded of that moment in our second year.

“Come on,” John says after a beat of silence, “We need to get our chess board.”

--

The rumour mill at Watford is up and running, because Baz Pitch has proudly proclaimed that he’s pushed his nemesis down the stairs. A lot of kids from the Old Families look up to him with admiration.

During dinner, Leslie complains about how the Old Families glorify unnecessary violence. Sam and Arnold also think Baz Pitch is a piece of shit for this. Even Luis, who admires Baz for his football talent, isn’t happy. Ryan, who still has a little crush on Simon, keeps craning his neck, trying to catch a glimpse of Simon, to see how he’s doing. Scott tells him to not be so obvious.

I do too. I see Simon. There’s a bruise on his temple and Agatha Wellbelove is holding an ice pack against it. He has an arm around her waist. She’s speaking to him and Simon nods every now and then, but he cannot stop staring at Baz.

The sight Simon and Agatha together like that would usually pain me, but now, I am just worried.

I also watch Baz from our table. He really does look full of himself and he jeers about how fragile the Chosen One is.

“Can you believe the Mage thinks this guy of all people can save us?” he says, full of unabashed glee, and his minions cackle.

But I remember the look of absolute shock on his face. I remember how he rushed away from us.

John doesn’t say anything during dinner.

--

We’re having an end of year picnic. Not an official Watford one, but an unofficial Watford Chess Club one. Man, this year is almost over and I honestly cannot wait for it to end. So much has happened.

“John, is it me, or was this year busier than usual?” I bemoan.

“Well, this definitely is the longest chapter,” he says back. “I did warn you at the end of the last one.”

“What?” Leslie says.

“The following chapters are also longer than the first four, but this one does take the cake,” John adds and we all collectively let it slide.

“For real, though,” Sam lies down, “Especially with all that Simon and Baz crap.”

Ryan lets out a sigh.

“Like, we always knew that they were off doing their own thing, you know?” he says, “But it’s almost as if this year, it’s been more obvious. I heard that Simon follows Baz non-stop these days, even in the evenings and nights.”

Of course Ryan knows about Simon Snow’s whereabouts.

“Merlin, is Simon Snow a stalker?” Arnold says, aghast.

“At least he still saves the school on a regular basis. Really, a lot of stuff happened,” Scott says.

I frown at that. I did get caught up in the weird shit with the Chimera at the beginning of the year. And yes, John and I witnessed Baz pushing Simon down the stairs. And of course, Simon and Baz disrupt class a lot with their bickering. But I can’t say I was caught up in any more stuff. Maybe my friends witnessed stuff I am unaware of? I regularly hear stories about Simon Snow saving the day. That’s an usual occurrence.

“Should we be worried?” Arnold asks.

“What for?” I ask.

“Civil war, Matt,” he answers, as if it’s obvious.

“There’s been unrest ever since the Watford Tragedy,” I say, “No way now’s the time it’s all going to escalate.”

I hope I am right. I just want to live my life in peace and quiet. Let me do my own uninteresting thing. We have the Simon Snows to fight our battles for us.

--

End notes: Also a huge thank to Jess @you-remind-me-of-the-babe for coming up with the magickal cuckoo, and thanks Dre @cutestkilla for giving me the idea of Simon, uh, killing the bird in the Chimera blast.

[forabeatofadrum]

The thing about writing is that until you publish it there is 0 cost to fucking it up. You're not using up materials. You're not doing anything that can't be undone. You can fuck around endlessly to figure out what you want and it's free.

Like, yes, ok, you might waste your time

but would you rather waste your time writing or being too scared to write?

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writing be like

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Sorry for being such a slow writer, it's because I [remembers that self-deprecating jokes are harmful to my mental health and make everyone else uncomfortable] was attacked by dark spirits and washed up on the shore of a mysterious island with no recollection of who I was

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Six Sentence Sunday

Hey friends! Long time no post. I feel like time is absolutely slipping away from me recently, but I finally finished a big project I've been working on since last year and I'm both so excited to share it with you soon and also SO glad to just be done so I can focus a bit more on other projects.

Like this one! My fic Apres which I really can't share much about until it's posted. But here's some relatively spoiler free Niamh and Agatha.

I grab some pants from the floor and get them halfway up my legs before realizing they’re Niamh’s. When I turn to face her she’s giving me a quizzical look, and I just keep tugging them up. She raises an eyebrow. “You can have mine. If you like.” “You’re strange,” she says, and it sounds (and feels) more like, “You’re deeply attractive.” Which, well, I know. But she never lets me know it, so I’ll bask in it, thanks very much. I find my own lacy knickers and toss them into her lap. She doesn’t comment as she pulls them on. “Do you wear these all the time? [redacted]? They can’t be comfortable long term,” she grouses, snapping the waistband. “You’d be surprised.”

And here is a teeny preview from my Big Secret Project (that a handful of people have sussed me out over already ahahaha)

Tags under the cut!

@shemakesmeforget @stitchyqueer @rimeswithpurple @imagineacoolusername  @martsonmars  @valeffelees  @ileadacharmedlife  @aristocratic-otter  @urban-sith  @letraspal  @palimpsessed  @whatevertheweather  @nightimedreamersworld  @carryonsimoncarryonbaz  @raenestee  @moodandmist  @shrekgogurt  @whogaveyoupermission  @onepintobean  @ebbpettier @captain-aralias @fatalfangirl  @prettygoododds @ivelovedhimthroughworse @mysterioussheep @c0nsumemy5oul @facewithoutheart @j-nipper-95 @alexalexinii @iamamythologicalcreature @supercutedinosaurs @best--dress @messofthejess @mooncello @orange-peony @chen-chen-chen-again-chen @bookish-bogwitch @confused-bi-queer @youarenevertooold @that-disabled-princess @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @theearlgreymage @blackberrysummerblog @nausikaaa @thewholelemon @cutestkilla @emeryhall @hushed-chorus @forabeatofadrum

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far more than six sentences sunday (but! it’s six paragraphs!)

Hi y’all. I’m facing terrible writer’s block. These damn chapters just keep getting longer. I’m going to try to force myself to write a messier draft than usual. Perhaps that will help. What doesn’t help is that these flashbacks alone are shaping up to be 3k combined 🫠 but also they’re absolutely my favorite flashbacks I’ve written. You may find a snippet below!

Simon POV, past, age sixteen:

My jaw drops, stunning me into lengthy pauses between simple words.

“What…is… happening…”

“Shut up.” Baz orders, lifting his violin to his chin. “I’m proving something.”

A smirk spreads across my face.

“Yeah, something from four years ag—”

And then he starts playing. It’s the most effective way he’s ever shut me down. Better than outsmarting me. Or outmatching me. Because I don’t really feel like I’m losing. Because Baz is good at the violin. Not groundbreakingly so. He doesn’t have time for orchestra just like I wouldn’t have time for choir even if I wanted to. But I know he’s been taking private lessons with the music teacher. I followed him to one of them last year when I thought he was making a drug deal. (Turns out the drugs—in this instance—were fucking like Mozart or something.) (Swot.)

thank you for the tags these past few weeks! @cutestkilla @emeryhall @monbons @hushed-chorus @wellbelesbian @mooncello @prettygoododds @roomwithanopenfire @iamamythologicalcreature @artsyunderstudy @thewholelemon @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @forabeatofadrum

now adding to the tags @brilla-brilla-estrellita @excalisbury @ineffable-grimm-pitch @ileadacharmedlife @j-nipper-95 @letraspal @messofthejess @nightimedreamersworld @onepintobean @palimpsessed @rimeswithpurple @raenestee @theearlgreymage @theimpossibledemon @valeffelees @youarenevertooold @yellobb

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Thanks for the tags today @wellbelesbian @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @bookish-bogwitch and @monbons! I love your WIPs/fics tremendously. And thanks to all my other lovelies who keep tagging me every wipsday even though I only seem to share every 6 weeks or so 😂. Contrary to how it may appear, I am consistently working away on Chapter 5 of Hiding Out in the Open and I'm SO CLOSE to being done.

Anyway, let's catch up with way more than six sentences of Baz in one of my favourite places: mid-spiral.

What would Snow think it meant that I sent this to him? “Every time I said this reminds me of you, what I really meant was: this reminds me of me,” I’d told him once. Why did I ever say that? Why did I tell him anything reminded me of him, ever? Why didn’t I stop for a single solitary second to consider the dangerous precedent it would set, or how ridiculously transparent I was being with my secret garden and my cute snacks and my desperate incentives to let me close? Fuck me, what if he thought this was the reveal I’d idiotically teased to lure him out on a Friday night? "Surprise, Snow! I fell for you the moment we met, spent half the ensuing years mistaking the intense pain of knowing I could never have you for hatred, and the remainder pining after you in miserable silence and planning to die by your sword. Let’s discuss the psychological implications in painstaking detail! I brought popcorn!"

Tags and hellos under the cut friends!

@artsyunderstudy @shrekgogurt @ivelovedhimthroughworse @hushed-chorus @thewholelemon

@emeryhall @creepyspice @iamamythologicalcreature @whatevertheweather @facewithoutheart

@aristocratic-otter @j-nipper-95 @fatalfangirl @mooncello @forabeatofadrum @raenestee

@onepintobean @martsonmars @prettygoododds @run-for-chamo-miles @blackberrysummerblog

@that-disabled-princess @best--dress @stitchyqueer @brilla-brilla-estrellita @valeffelees

@cosmicalart @urban-sith @captain-aralias @rimeswithpurple @ileadacharmedlife

@nightimedreamersworld @orange-peony @larkral @ic3-que3n @technetiumai

@theearlgreymage @palimpsessed @angelsfalling16 @whogaveyoupermission @youarenevertooold

[forabeatofadrum]

Some Sentences Sunday

thanks for the tags this week @prettygoododds and @forabeatofadrum!

i couldn't find a way to whittle this down to six sentences, so you get however many this is instead.

this is from one of my upcoming @carry-on-sapphic-week fics, it's fem!Snowbaz. you might remember i shared a different snippet of it a few weeks ago.

under the cut for slight nsfw-ness.

“So, can we see what you drew?” Nellie asks eagerly.

“I lost the drawing.”

“Yeah, right.” Devi smirks. “It’s probably taped to your ceiling.”

“Believe it or not, I’m not actually so egotistical as to masturbate to my own art.” I retort as Nellie giggles. Besides, I think to myself, Snow has an instagram.

I’m not proud of myself for that one.

and here's something for @carryon-disability-week for good measure!

We’ve gotten halfway round the reservoir, and I think I understand how Simon felt when he was about to go off. I’m absolutely fuming, seething, because the blasted cane is actually helping, and I can’t stop smiling despite myself.

My leg barely hurts at all. We’ve walked so much farther than I thought we would manage, and Simon is extremely pleased with himself. With his dreadful coat and its godforsaken inside pockets.

He’s trying to be humble about it, but he keeps giving me these glances. I catch him at it again and knock my shoulder into his.

“Smug bastard.”

tags and hellos: @forabeatofadrum @j-nipper-95 @artsyunderstudy @that-disabled-princess @prettygoododds @confused-bi-queer @imagineacoolusername @ic3-que3n @aristocratic-otter @larkral @hushed-chorus @ivelovedhimthroughworse @shemakesmeforget @fatalfangirl @ebbpettier @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @cutestkilla @youarenevertooold @alexalexinii @shrekgogurt @bookish-bogwitch @thewholelemon @supercutedinosaurs @shutup-andletme-go @theearlgreymage @ileadacharmedlife @alleycat0306 @carryonsimoncarryonbaz @comesitintheclover @blackberrysummerblog and @orange-peony

[forabeatofadrum]

Thanks for the tags, @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @monbons and @wellbelesbian. I'm excited to check out your WIPs.

Instead of something in progress, here are a dozen or so sentences from Chapter 7 of Basil Pitch's Diary, which posted yesterday. It's summer holiday, and our young hero is trying out Grindr.

“Hi, I’m Mick.”   Ding-dong. Mick had a thick blond moustache and sat astride a chestnut mare. He’d used some filter for a nostalgic eighties effect. Cliché—but those thighs. He could snap me in half. He could snap the horse in half. He—  Wait. I knew that horse. Clara had been my mother’s, and was already a nag by the time I was born. Those thighs belonged to Michael, our groom, and that photo was at least thirty years old.  Swiped left.

Will Baz find summer love? Will Michael find an age-appropriate date? And what's going on with Simon? Find conclusive answers to none of these questions in the latest chapter update!

Tags below the cut.

Hello! Whatcha doin', you reading this and also @facewithoutheart @thewholelemon @comesitintheclover @mooncello @ivelovedhimthroughworse

@artsyunderstudy @raenestee @ileadacharmedlife @skeedelvee @moodandmist

@emeryhall @ic3-que3n @theearlgreymage @thehoneyedhufflepuff @ninemagicks

@cutestkilla @rimeswithpurple @nightimedreamersworld @scone-lover @stardustasincocaine

@fatalfangirl @hushed-chorus @martsonmars @onepintobean @iamamythologicalcreature

@blackberrysummerblog @excalisbury @nausikaaa @youarenevertooold @forabeatofadrum

@carryonsimoncarryonbaz @aristocratic-otter @larkral @alleycat0306 @carryonvisinata

[forabeatofadrum]

Happy Sunday everyone! I’m quite shocked we’re 3/4 of the way through April. Where did this month go? On the other hand, it’s getting warmer and summer is around the corner, so bring it on!

I’ve got a snippet from Back and Back and Back, my time travel AU fic. Chapters 1 and 2 are written and half of 3 and 4 as well. It might be a while before I post, though, because I kind of want to have it all or mostly written first. It’s been a long time since I’ve written something not connected to a fest or event, so its nice having the luxury of time for this one. Here’s a bit of six year old Baz with his Dragon Man friend from Chapter 1 again:

“Jammie Dodgers? How’d you know those were my favorites?”

I smile proudly, even though I didn’t know that, but his bright smile and playful tone relaxes me.

“Would you like some?” I ask, stepping forward and holding the biscuits up to him.

“Thanks, Baz,” he says, reaching to take one and then wandering over to a fallen log to sit.

“It’s Basil,” I correct, following him over and sitting next to him on the log. He kicks his long legs out, crossing them at the ankle. I try to copy him and frown at how short my legs look compared to his. “Nobody calls me Baz.”

“Right, sorry,” he says, shaking his head with a smirk on his lips. “Keep forgetting.”

Tags/thank yous/hellos @whatevertheweather @bookish-bogwitch @cutestkilla @artsyunderstudy @emeryhall @aristocratic-otter @whogaveyoupermission @ileadacharmedlife @ivelovedhimthroughworse @monbons @noblecorgi @mooncello @wellbelesbian @prettygoododds @best--dress @roomwithanopenfire @facewithoutheart @run-for-chamo-miles @that-disabled-princess @forabeatofadrum @rimeswithpurple @thewholelemon @blackberrysummerblog @hushed-chorus @iamamythologicalcreature @valeffelees @orange-peony @youarenevertooold @shrekgogurt @ic3-que3n @angelsfalling16 @raenestee @brilla-brilla-estrellita @alexalexinii @arthurkko @supercutedinosaurs @beastmonstertitan