#and because he has no other way to show baz he loves him- words fail him and simon has always been too much

[luxken]

blah blah blah for simon love and safety are intrinsically tied to food blah blah blah simon gorges himself because he never knows when his last meal is going to be blah blah blah simon wants baz to feed on him because he wants to provide for baz and show that he loves him in a way he can’t with words blah blah blah “i'll give him everything he wants”

[eleanorbloom]

When You’re Ready Ch. 14

Pairing: Bryce Lahela x f! MC (Eleanor Bloom) x Ethan Ramsey.

Word Count: 4.8k

Warnings: Angst and maybe a few cussing words.

A/N: Hello! I warn all of you. This is a complete Ethan chapter. When I started writing this fic back in June I never intended to do a big development of characters (well, of Bryce’s, yes, but not Ethan’s), but here I am. I feel like all the things I could’ve written about Ethan when I was in love with him somehow made its way here. This was necessary to understand his behavior towards Eleanor and in general, why it took him so long to accept his feelings both in this AU and in canon OH, and it made me a little sad. He’ll always have a piece of my heart.

I hope you enjoy this new chapter!

Hugs to all of you, thank you for your support!

Taglist @utterlyinevitable @binny1985 @shanzay44 @choicesficwriterscreations @laiba-the-person @starrystarrytrouble @lahellacute @lucy-268  @cinnamonspongecake @romewritingshop @bratzlahela @hermosaofraleighcarrera   @mercury84choices​

_____

Chapter 14: This is me trying.

I just wanted you to know That this is me trying

Maybe not. Maybe not. Maybe it wasn’t too late.

But he knew it didn’t mean anything. It wasn’t a confirmation or a proposition. He knew this time wouldn’t be like the months previous to his travel to the Amazon when she would show up in his office asking him why he was ignoring her, why they couldn’t be together.

This time, she wouldn’t show up at his apartment to tell him it was all over with Bryce because she wanted to be with him only. No.

This time it was up to him. It would be his choice, his decision. He was the one who had ended things, he had closed the door to them, and he was the only responsible to open it up again.

But it wasn’t an easy decision. It had been several days since the last conversation with Eleanor and he still wasn’t sure if he should take a chance. The only thing he was sure of is that he had to make up for the lost time in those two months.

He had to be her boss, her colleague. And one of the first things he did in his trying to make up things with her, was to recognize, in front of Baz and June, that what Eleanor did by contacting Gwyneth Monroe was the only available alternative to save the Team, and by doing so, she spared him the necessity to do it himself. Baz and June agreed with him and thanked him for the big gesture, even if it took him weeks to accept his mistake.

The next thing in his scale of priorities was to fill her with all the support and knowledge he failed to transmit in the past months.

Eleanor received the change with open hands, so she started spending more time in the Diagnostic Office, reading journals, discussing theories, and simply to receive advice from Ethan.

However, he could sense Eleanor was still hurt. Things were friendly, but certainly not the way they were before, just as she warned. Even if the tension of being alone with him had dissipated, she didn’t spend more time than necessary in the office and talking to him. It was all work-related.

Those deep conversations, those coffees that led him to get to know her and have feelings for her, all that seemed to be in the past. Or it would be like that until he decides to make a move to change things between them, even in a friendly way. He wanted her back no matter how things might result in the end. As a friend or as a lover, he didn’t want to lose her.

He wanted to be for her just as she had been for him when he needed the most. He wanted her back in his life.

“Something on your mind, Eleanor?”

June and Baz had left several minutes ago and she stayed at the office to analyze a case she had been stuck for hours, but it was evident to him that she wasn’t even paying attention to the medical chart,  as her eyes had been fixed on the same spot for the last five minutes.  

Eleanor looked at him, standing by her side and then taking a seat next to her. She didn’t respond, but it seemed like she was just looking for the right words.

“Is something personal or work-related?”

The response was barely a whisper.

“Work-related.��

“Involving the team?”

“Yes.”

“What is it?”

“I’m not sure if I should tell you this. I’d hate to be a squealer.”

“Eleanor. I can tell that whatever this is, has been bothering you since before the meeting, so I don’t think you should keep it just by yourself.”

Ethan has sensed Eleanor was feeling uncomfortable the moment he put a foot in the Diagnostics Office. She was too transparent when something bothered her.

She peeked at him for a moment, hesitant to look at him in the eyes.

“It has something to do with June?”

“How do you know?”—She finally held the gaze on him, her eyes widened for a brief moment.

“You were looking awkwardly at her when we started the meeting.”

Her cheeks blushed, maybe too surprised of how well he could read her or maybe that she was too obvious with her emotions.

“Yes, I was. The thing is… I found my file on her bag.”

“You found what?”

“My personal file, with my resume, recommendations, my personal data, all of it. She said she reads the file of everyone she works with, and besides all that, she has been adapting her behavior to get me on her side.”

"Typical of her."—That was his first and honest reaction, but still didn't justify why Eleanor was this worried. It was inappropriate, yes,  but her file didn't have anything that June could use against her.—"I know it's illegal and you have every right to be mad that she's meddling with your private data, but it shouldn't have major consequences."

“I know. What annoys me is how manipulative she can be, that she has been acting like that just to… to get me on her side because she thinks I’m always gonna take a side on you.”—Before she could continue, Eleanor sighed, embarrassed.—“She knows we have history.”

She broke contact with him and fixated her eyes on the wall in front of her, her hands fidgeting over the chart.

Ethan always wondered if she suspected anything. June was too clever and nosy to overlook such information and to not notice their interaction in the last months. Even if June didn’t know Eleanor well, she knew him, and his behavior towards Eleanor had been unprecedented and emotional, so she would obviously suspect that his anger was not completely about the team, but about something personal. Something related to their history.

“Mmmh. I don’t doubt she does.”—He said, looking at her profile, internally begging that she could look at him again, but the conversation was embarrassing and uncomfortable for both of them, especially since they had agreed to not talk about their ‘relationship’ never again—“She has always liked to find what makes people tick. What did she say?”

Her cheek blushed again, this time more intensely.

“That she hoped our history didn’t get in the middle of our work again, and that she was glad you and I had worked up things because we looked like a pathetic divorced couple.”

Now Ethan couldn’t help the blush in his cheeks. Not even the beard could dissimulate it. One thing was Eleanor noticing his behavior towards her, but June, a colleague, a professional like her, a person who was always looking for something to use against him? It was rather than mortifying.

“I see.”

“Do you think this could bring us any troubles?—She turned to him again, her eyes tinted with worry.—"I mean, she had nothing to use against me, right?”

Her voice betrayed her with a slight note of fear, but Ethan could tell she was trying really hard not to expose her true feelings. Fear, embarrassment, maybe anger, at the fact that everything Ethan had been trying to protect her from, was finally manifesting.

“No, she has nothing concrete against you, Eleanor. Naveen was the one who chose you as Junior Fellow Member based purely on your merits: you were the intern with more weeks in the first spot and you were the one who solved Naveen's case. If all, there's a lot of evidence that you deserved to be in this team more than any other intern, and it has nothing to do with me or our history.”

“I think so. I want to believe that.”

Her fingers still were twitching over the table, maybe even more than before. He couldn’t help but place a hand over hers.

“Don’t let her make you doubt about your merits, Eleanor.”—He said softly, and Eleanor turned to him, daring to expose a bit of her vulnerability and not avoiding his touch.— “You were the best intern. And Naveen chose you. If she wants to question someone, is Naveen, but I doubt she wants to play that game.”

She nodded and then she moved her hands to her lap, smiling shyly.

Ethan thanked internally that his move hadn’t been too much for her. For that reason, he dared to stretch his spare of luck even more.” 

“Why don’t we go out of here so you can get this off your head for a while?”

“What do you mean?”

"Let's grab a coffee, like old times."

Eleanor stared at him, pensive. Those seconds felt like hours to him, wondering if that wasn’t too much, if he was being too bold or too pushy. Maybe all he was gonna get, was scaring her away. He didn't deserve such generosity.

“Okay, lead the way.”

He sighed in relief and smiled.

A short walk later, they entered Derry Roasters. She took a seat while Ethan stood in front of the counter, waiting for their order.

“So, the last time we were both here was the time I helped your father finding you.”—Eleanor said after they had already taken the time to appreciate the good coffee they had come to get.—“How’s that going? I think it involved your mother?”

He couldn't help but look at her with panic in his eyes. He never expected that the first thing they would talk, would be about his mother, even if he had been wanting to open his heart to her about what he was feeling since his father talked to him weeks ago. It was too deep and difficult. But he had to do the effort if he wanted her back, even if it was just as a friend.

“Yeah, he… he told me she wants to see me.”

“How long has been since you last saw her?”

“25 five years. She left when I was 11 years old.”

“Oh”—That information seemed to work like a revelation to her, but soon she concealed her expression with concern and empathy.—“I’m so sorry, Ethan”

“It’s fine.”

The truth was, it wasn’t fine, but the fact that he could share it with her was making it a lot more bearable than it could ever be.

“And what does she want?”

“I don’t know, and I couldn’t care less, honestly. My dad keeps trying to convince me that I should speak to her. In fact, he told me he was in Boston a few days ago, but I don’t care. I… I can’t see her.”

“Why not?”

“She left us, and she has to live with her decision, just as I had to live with it.”

“But she must have to have an important reason for wanting to see you after so long.”

“Maybe, but I don’t care.”

His phone buzzed over the table. Before he could cancel the call, Eleanor looked at the screen.

“How much time have you been ignoring your dad?”

“Days… Maybe weeks.”

“Ethan. It’s your father.”

“He’s just trying to make me go see her.”

“Why don’t you give it just a try?”

“It’s not that easy, Eleanor.”

“Would it be easier if I go with you?” 

And the answer would always be yes. Everything would be easier and better if she’s around. It took him so long to realize and accept that. Because even the deception that came after this attempt of ‘giving it a try’ was bearable just because she was there for him. Because she heard what was inside him, the conflict that has been tormenting his whole life, and why he couldn’t face his father after he had accepted his mother back in his life, even after all those years and what she had done.

After that day, Ethan invited her for a coffee as much as he could, and on one occasion she agreed to have lunch with him in a restaurant near Edenbrook, in his intention to ease the frustration and pain she was feeling for having lost a patient recently. It had been two days, he had seen Bryce consoling her a couple of times, but she was still low. It had affected her more than she wanted, and he realized he needed to do something for her at that moment. Be there for her just as she had been for him on countless occasions.

That necessity to be for her put a lot of things into perspective that he could never understand before.  The need for retribution, and somehow, the feeling of… unconditionality.

First of all, the fear and denial about his mother existed because the sentiment of abandonment she left on him, grew up with him until it made him believe he wasn’t enough and would never be enough. It made him fear that, at some point, everyone around him would leave him. If he never were enough to stop his own mother from abandoning him, why would he expect that another person, only based on love, would never leave him?

It was absurd. That’s why it was easier and more sensical to avoid putting himself in that situation. With no hopes, no commitment the is no pain and deception. No abandonment.

That’s why he couldn’t let himself be with Eleanor the way she wanted, and the way somehow he wanted it too.

Second, he had never been able to understand the concept of unconditional love. It was far beyond his comprehension that his father, after all these years and what his mother had done, could still love her, and even more, forgive her.

But now he had understood that he had nothing to accept and comprehend regarding his father. Because it was his feelings. His pain. His choice.

Ethan was sure he could never understand why his father could love her unconditionally, but it was certainly easier to accept it now that he understood that every person deals with their emotions in different ways. Everyone has their reasons, and no one can judge each other for that.

And he was finally able to accept it because Ethan, in the middle of the Rainforest, after countless nights trying no to think about her, realized he would love her his whole life. With or without her, he would still love her.

So even if he couldn’t understand and explain how unconditional love works, there he was, realizing that his love for Eleanor would accompany him his whole life. He wasn't sure if it would be as painful as the sentiment of abandonment, but he wanted to believe that this new companion had a lot more meaning than the former.

Either way, that also made him realize that the least she deserved was him trying. Fight for her. Show her how much she meant to him, no matter how things turn out in the end. She had tried so many times for him, even if the ninety nines before he had rejected her.  She kept trying. He would try too.

*

That night was chill, proof enough that autumn was around the corner. Edenbrook had won over Mass Kenmore after an agitated softball match.

He hadn’t planned it would be this day, but something inside him obliged him to take the chance that night, and walk cautiously towards Eleanor, who was grabbing her stuff from the bench and sharing jokes with Elijah.

“Got any plans tonight, Eleanor?”—His voice was so low and soft that only she was able to hear him.  

Eleanor turned to him, startled by his sudden appearance.  

“Um, just celebrating at Donahue’s with my friends.”

“Why don’t you join me for dinner tonight? There’s a new recipe I’ve been wanting to try for weeks.”

He gave her a shy smile, knowing perfectly well that she could interpret his behavior as awkward and suspicious.

"Have dinner, with… with you?"—She asked incredulously.

“Yes.”

She raised an eyebrow, maybe waiting for a better explanation for this unexpected invitation.

“We need to talk.”

“Do we?”

“I need to talk to you. If you want to hear me, of course.”

Her eyes fixed on him, thoughtfully, just like the previous invitations he had done to her. Then she glanced behind him, where Bryce was chatting gleefully with Keiki.

“Couldn’t be any other day?”

“It could. But it’s your choice, Eleanor. I don’t pretend to force you to anything.”

The odds would always say she would decline. She didn't have the obligation to be dining with him, much less alone  in his apartment. But she was curious. Too curious to resist the promise of a conversation after all his subtle moves those past weeks.

“Okay. I’ll go.”

His face lit up with a smile

“I’ll be waiting for you in the car.”

She nodded before shouldering her bag and approaching Bryce with a somewhat guilty grimace.

Five minutes later, she slipped on the passenger side. It was evident she wasn't one hundred percent comfortable with the situation, as if she had agreed was because of a reason beyond her choice or liking, even beyond just her curiosity. To prove something, maybe.

“Satisfied with wiping the arrogant smirk out of Tobias’ face?”—She asked a few minutes later, in an intent to diffuse the tension from her guts.

“I think so. I couldn’t care less about the game, but at least I had my share of satisfaction, indeed. What happened with Dr. Emery, by the way?”

Her smiled fainted at the mention of Aurora.

“Oh, Tobias told me Aurora had given him the information about Stephanie Hill, so I confronted her about it, but I think I overreacted. The topic is still sensitive to me and maybe I expressed myself wrong, but in no way I blame Aurora. She just gave him the idea of going after research grants for their patients, but Tobias decided to steal our patient instead.”

“I have the feeling that Tobias is using her. I don't wanna be that narcissistic moron that would say ‘he's doing it to get to me’, but even if what Dr. Emery shared was innocent, Tobias' intentions are never innocent.”

“Yeah, she’s just a spawn…—Eleanor covered her face with both hands and stroked her head, embarrassed. –“I feel terrible, Ethan. I shouldn’t have treated her like that. I’ll apologize to her when I have the chance to see her, but in the meantime, I’ll feel so guilty.”

“Troublemaker Tobias always causing problems between friends. Some things never change.”

An hour later, both Ethan and Eleanor curled up on the couch after putting in the oven the famous Georgian Stuffed Chicken Ethan Ramsey had wanted so much to try for days.

“Have you talked with your father about what happened the other day?”

He sighed as he offered her a glass of Chardonnay before sitting beside her.

“I did, a couple of days ago, actually.”

“Really? And?”

“Well, let’s say that I told him I needed some space and time to accept what he’s trying to do, but he understood that it’s not easy for me that he still loves my mother after what she put us through.”

She nodded looking at the spectacular view of Boston, that for the briefest moment, it reflexed on her brown locks. Then, she turned to him and raised an eyebrow, inquiringly.

“And?”

“And after that conversation, I think I got to understand him even more.”

“How so?”

“I’ve never been able to comprehend that kind of unconditional love he feels for my mother, because to me everything is conditional. But after a while, I realized that maybe… some things are unconditional.”

She grunted nervously and then took a sip of her wine without looking at him.

“No matter how hard my dad tried, he couldn’t stop loving my mother. She left us and 25 years later, he still loves her. And in my case… no matter how hard I tried, that I went to South America, even if I had gone to the antipodes in Australia, I know I wouldn’t stop feeling what I feel about you, Eleanor.”

The tension made its appearance instantly. Body stiffened, panicked eyes, lips pressed in a nervous mock.  All signs that could’ve made him stop what he was about to say, but not tonight. He had been a coward too many times.

“Even if you stop loving me, and you are with Bryce or with whoever person you love, even if you get marry and have kids… I know I’d still feel the same and wouldn’t be able to let you go. And I think that… that’s the unconditionally everyone talks so much about. Even if I can’t comprehend it, I know that… that this love will be unconditional.”

It was the first time he mentioned the word love in front of her, and she perfectly knew that, as her eyes widened at the sound of that sole word in his mouth.

“No matter how things turn out in the end, I’d be a fool if I don’t try to have you back. The least you deserve is me trying, Eleanor. Just as you fought for me, for us, I have to do it. I will do it.”

Eleanor leaned forward to set the empty glass of wine on the coffee table and then turned to him.

“Is not that simple, Ethan.”

“I know, I know it will take time. That it will demand a lot of things, that I will have to give you things I’ve never feel ready to give, but for you… I have to try.”

“Trying is not enough. Not at this point. A promise of you trying to give me something is a risk too big that I’m not willing to take. I already told you, the only reason I’d considered leaving Bryce, would be if you get all your shit together. No regrets, no fears. No second thoughts. No half measures. Everything, Ethan. I know it's a lot to ask, but I have all of it with Bryce, and I won't fall back."

“I know. I’m more than aware that the only way you could accept me back is by offering you the same Bryce has given you.”

“Even so, I’m still hurt, Ethan. All has been great these past weeks, as friends, but I can’t even let myself thinking about being with you, and I know it’ll be like this for a long time.”

He gave her a sad smile and after a few seconds considering his words, he spoke:

“I understand. But I feel like I cannot live with myself if I don’t try, Eleanor, if I don’t…”

But he couldn’t go on.

He was trying to delay this moment, but it had to be done. No matter how things would turn out in the end, she had to know. She deserved to know.

Eleanor never hesitated to let him know she loved him. She never was selfish of her feelings and her love. It was the least he could do.

“There were so many times I should have said it, just right after you said it, or even in the moments you would less expect, but I couldn’t. I was afraid because I’ve never said it before. But you have to know, Eleanor. I can’t hold it anymore.”

“Ethan…”

“I love you.”

The earth stopped spinning at that moment. The moment froze. Her expression. Her breath. Maybe even her heart skipped a beat because his certainly did.

“The only thing that I got going to the Amazon, was realizing that I love you and that I’ll never stop loving you no matter how hard I try.”

Her eyes were shiny and wet with the tears at bay, and then her breath became agitated.

“I…”

Words failed her.

“You don’t have to say anything.”

After several seconds, she finally managed to say something:

“Sorry, this… this is a lot to process.”

Ethan didn’t miss a single moment of her reactions, scrutinizing her face, her emotions, maybe to evade what he was feeling inside after saying something he had been terrified to say all his life.

“Somehow I waited so much to hearing you say that, that now that you said it…It feels weird, surreal.”

“It feels that way to me too, if I’m being honest.”

“I never could be sure that you felt it, you know? Even if you tried to convince me implicitly… Somehow I always craved the words.”

“I know, and I was selfish. I’ve always been selfish when it comes to you. And you, instead, were always sincere and generous with your feelings, and I have to thank you for that, for always being braver than me.”

He leaned a few inches to caress her cheek. She closed her eyes instantly at the feeling of his touch, like body memory. Like even if she wanted to resist, her body was stronger. As if her skin still belonged to him.

“Take all the time you need, and if in the end there’s no returning point… I’ll accept it. You tried so hard on us and I failed. I failed.”

Finally, the tears streamed down her face, a sob escaping from her throat. 

“You have no idea how many nights I waited for you to say all this. That you love me, that you wanna be with me... Ethan…”

“I’m not planning to stop from this moment.”

Eleanor looked directly into his eyes. He managed to convey his purest feelings. Love, admiration, tenderness. All that he could’ve given her, but he had been too cowards and too afraid to give.

But her eyes weren't like before. It was like they weren't looking at him like before, like she wasn't there at that moment.  There were tenderness and vulnerability but also something unrecognizable. A tint of sadness, maybe melancholy.

He slid the tip of his thumb over her lower lip.

“I’m tired of pretending, Eleanor.  I love you, I finally learned my le... ”

And then her lips over his stopped him.

He didn’t expect that.

A soft brush on his lips that he returned with eagerness the moment she opened her mouth to let him in.

But when she felt his large hands tenderly cupping her cheeks, she stopped abruptly. It seemed like his new touch reversed the body memory and made her reject him instead.

“No”

Eleanor parted from him and stood up instantly.

“I can’t.”—She cried.—“I can’t do this.”

She walked rapidly toward the sofa and grabbed her bag and jacket.

“I’m sorry, this is my fault.” —Ethan admitted, standing up from the couch.

“No, it’s mine.  I shouldn’t have let this happen. I shouldn't have come in the first place.”

He followed her to the door, trying to stop her before she could leave, but he knew her too well.

 “Eleanor, I’m sorry, can we talk about this? It wasn’t my intention to push you t-”

“No, I have to go. I’m sorry.”

Without looking at him, she opened the door and left.

The echo of the closing door resonated in his mind for a few seconds, until the ting of the oven's timer forced him to come back to reality.

After removing the damn chicken from the oven he sauntered to the bar to grab a glass of scotch and then went back to his spot.

He was surprised by her reaction. In no way he had expected a positive response or acceptance, but he never imagined his words could cause her pain, sadness, and confusion. Confusion to the point of making her kiss him and then ran away from his apartment frightened and guilty.

He had taken the step even knowing that it wouldn't be enough, but it wasn’t in his plans that maybe revealing his feelings could be a mistake. That it could do her more harm than good.

And besides all that, he had pushed his luck by trespassing the boundaries they had been implicitly respecting the past weeks. She was the one who kissed him, but he made the first move when he shouldn't have.

A knock on the door woke him up, confused. When he opened his eyes, he found himself over the couch, with the lamps on and a soft concerto playing in the sound system.

For a moment he forgot the reason of his awakening, he was utterly lost. But then the doorbell rang and he felt compelled to stand up and walk toward the door. Before he could open it, he gave a quick glance to his watch. It was 2.27 am.

On the other side of the door, she found Eleanor, pale, with puffy eyes and a slight trace of redness in her corneas.

Silently, he invited her in.

The moment he closed the door and turned to her, his heart skipped a beat.

“It’s over, Ethan.”

________

[viktorrotkiv]

Trust Me

This fic was written for the @snowbaz-sweethearts-exchange as a gift for @seducing-a-vampire , and beta-read by @stevenuniversestolemyheart ​ (<3).

Read on AO3

*

Simon was being weird again. Avoiding him. Being evasive and distant.

Baz has been through this once before, and he really doesn’t want to do it again. This game of avoiding one another, almost-talking about feelings, trying to keep hold of a sinking ship. They survived the last time, but just barely. Baz thinks maybe he didn’t do enough then, because it feels like they survived on pure chance. Luck of the draw. Fate had tested their relationship, pushed it almost to the breaking point, then got bored and gave up, and they bounced back. Slightly broken, and a little less idealistic, but realer, and stronger. Different.

Baz couldn’t stand change. He had had enough ‘different’ for a lifetime. This time, the ship won’t even start to sink, because he’s going to stop it.

He’s going to prove to Simon Snow that he’s the best boyfriend around.

*

At first, Simon was worried about Baz’s birthday. He wanted to make sure it was perfect and special. After everything they’d been through, Baz deserved some happiness and peace. But the moment he thought of his brilliant idea, he relaxed completely. He sunk fully into planning and organizing, devoting hours and days to it, but he wasn’t worried anymore. He was confident.

The grand plan was this; on the morning of February 24th, Simon would show up at Baz’s parents’ house, where Baz was staying for a few weeks. They would have breakfast with Baz’s family, after which, everyone, including Simon, would give Baz his gifts. Simon’s gift will be a pair of jeans, reminiscent of Simon’s first visit to Baz’s house, and a hand-made gift card, entitling Baz to “give Simon Snow a makeover of your choice, including, but not limited to, hair, clothes, and manners.” Baz will laugh and immediately change into the jeans (this was, of course, a crucial part of the plan). They’ll spend the morning with Baz’s family (and maybe some of it in Baz’s room, decidedly away from his family), and then Simon will noncommittally suggest lunch with a few friends. Baz could either accept or decline; this was important in order to make it seem like the day wasn’t orchestrated. In the afternoon they had tickets to see an exhibition at a Normal museum that Baz was buzzed about; this part he was aware of. On the way back from the museum, Simon would suggest walking through a park, where, lo and behold, all of Baz’s friends and family would be waiting with balloons and home-cooked food and cake.

The only problem was that Simon was terrible at keeping secrets, and worse at lying. There was only one solution: he would have to try and avoid Baz for the next few weeks.

February 1st

Mordelia was going to be the death of him. Last night there had been one acceptable clean pair of trousers in his closet. He was sure of it, because he had checked specifically, because he knew that most of his clothes were in the laundry. And now, as he was getting dressed to meet Simon, it was gone. The only things he could find were old trousers that didn’t really fit anymore, and a few pairs of pyjamas.

“Mordelia!” Baz slammed the closet door shut and stormed out of his room. “What did you do with my clothes?! Good morning, Daphne. Mordelia, I’m going to hex you!”

“What?” His little sister peaked innocently out of her room, seemingly trying to shut the door on herself.

“You know what you did. Where are my trousers?”

“Oh, these?” Mordelia bent down and picked something up from the floor behind her.

“Yes, these!” Baz snatched them away angrily. “What on earth did you need them for?”

“Nothing.” She shied away from his inquisitive gaze. “I was, er – I was playing dress up.”

Baz huffed and sighed, but walked away. He didn’t have time for this. The ‘perfect boyfriend’ that he was trying to be was never late. But seriously, who on earth thought that moving back home while he looked for a flat near Simon and Penny was a good idea? Oh, right. All of his friends. His parents too. His siblings were happy to have him. And he wasn’t paying rent.

*

Simon’s secret phone beeped with a message. Yes, he had gotten burner phones for the Top Secret Baz’s Birthday Surprise operation. Growing up in a Normal orphanage had left its marks, and a love for trashy spy movies was one of them.

The message was from Mordelia, one of his many accomplices, and it contained Baz’s trouser size.

Also, he’s mad at me now. Can you tell him it wasn’t my fault that I had to take his trousers?

You’re brilliant, Simon wrote back. And no! You mustn't tell him either, remember?

Will you buy me sweets?

Only if it makes you shut up and promise not to tell Baz

Alright :)

Fine. Simon saw Baz through the window of the coffee shop and quickly put the phone away. As Baz entered the shop, holding a bouquet of flowers, Simon stood up to wave him over. When he reached the table, Baz gave Simon a quick kiss on the cheek, and held out the bouquet.

Simon accepted the flowers and brought them to his nose to cover his embarrassingly big grin. They didn’t usually kiss in public; Baz was as shy about kissing as he was about eating, and they never knew what seemingly-charming old lady would shoot them a disapproving glare. This was a nice change of pace.

The flowers smelled good, and like they had been kept fresh with magic. Simon wondered what they were called.

“They’re Gerbera daisies,” said Baz, seemingly reading his mind. “Now, what disgustingly sweet monstrosity do you want to drink today?”

Simon couldn’t help but grin again. Avoiding Baz was going to be very, very difficult.

February 5th

Simon picked up a pair of jeans, only to be horrified at the amount of tears and holes it had. There was virtually more empty space than cloth. He quickly put it back down, trying and failing to fold it into the right shape, and moved on to the next display. He was feeling kind of lost. Now that Mordelia had acquired Baz’s trouser size for him, he could actually buy Baz’s present, but this wasn’t his speed at all. Big shopping centres. The actual shopping. Lots of Normals around. Fashion. God, he felt completely lost.

“Need any help?”

Simon turned to find that a chipper employee had appeared behind him. They popped up like mushrooms after the rain. “No, thanks, I think I’ll be fine.” Simon did his best to smile as he spoke, but he guessed that the vibes he was giving off were actually ‘terrified’ and ‘lost’ and perhaps ‘sad puppy’.

The employee seemed doubtful but didn’t push it. She was short, with short hair, and her store-mandated vest was covered with optimistic pins. Her ears reminded him of a pixie.

She had started walking away when Simon changed his mind. “Actually! If you don’t mind, I think I do need help.” Her kind smile encouraged him to continue. “I’m looking for jeans for my… my, er, boyfriend. I’m looking for something without many tears, and not too tight.”

“Do you want me to bring you a few options?”

Simon sighed in relief. “That would be great, thanks.” He told her the size he needed, and she walked purposely towards a rack on the other side of the store. As he watched her pull out different pairs and pile them in her arms, fascinated by her decisiveness, Simon’s phone rang. The regular one, not the burner phone. The phone he had forced Baz to buy with him, so they could talk. Baz, who was the one calling him right now.

Shit, shit, shit. He took a deep breath, finger hesitating above the screen, and let the phone ring almost five full rings before picking up.

“Hey, babe.” Simon closed his eyes and mentally kicked himself. He had been going for ‘casual’, but there was nothing casual about pet names with them.

“Babe?” Baz’s incredulous tone was almost enough to make Simon hang up.

“Erm. Yeah. No. Ignore that. What’s going on?”

“Nothing. I just wanted to talk to you.”

“Oh.” Simon looked nervously around the store. The employee was halfway back to him, still stopping at displays and racks.

“Remember how I told you that Mordelia stole my clothes? Now she’s decided to teach the baby how to play the piano. The sound is deafening. I’ve started taking walks around the garden just to avoid her.”

“Oh, that sounds awful.”

“It is! It really is. Erm, so, I tried to find a reason to get out of the house, and I’m in the coffee shop we like, and they have a sale on chocolates, and I was just wondering if you like marzipan.”

“Erm, yeah, sure. It’s sweet, right? Then sure, I guess I like it.” The employee had almost completed a full round. He’d have to hang up soon.

“What about hazelnut? Or – or, get this, hazelnut coffee.”

“Er…” Simon smiled apologetically at the employee, who was back in front of him, carrying a pile of clothes almost as tall as her. “Yes to hazelnut chocolate, no to the coffee. I, er, I kind of have to go, can we talk later?”

“Sure, I – I guess.” Baz let Simon hang up.

Simon thanked the employee profusely and started going through the pile of jeans.

Baz pulled the phone away from his ear and stared at the blank screen, disappointed. Mordelia really was trying to teach the baby to play the piano, that much was true, but it wasn’t the reason he was looking at chocolates. He was trying to do something nice for Simon, and his boyfriend was still acting weird and pulling away. That had to have been the shortest phone conversation they’d had since Simon had forced him to buy the damn thing. What could he have possibly done wrong?

Baz paid for the chocolate in a stupor and left the store deflated.

February 10th

Dearest Basilton,

No. Simon crossed out the words. Who was he, Baz’s grandmother? Wait. Did Baz have a grandmother? Obviously, genetically, he had to have grandmothers. But were they alive? How could Simon not know this? He’d have to ask him.

Simon shook his head and stared at the paper.

Baz, he started again. Simple and personal. You already know how much I love you.

Simon chewed on his pen. No: I hope you already know how much I love you.

But birthdays are a time to state the obvious again. So, I love you, I love you, I love you. You’re the best person I know. The bravest, the strongest, the most resolute person I know. The smartest. Wait, nevermind. Second smartest. Stop glaring at me and read the rest of the card.

I love how good you are with your siblings. How patient and gentle you are with me when I need it most. I love how dramatic you are, and how dramatic our story is. I love that you’re looking for a flat near me and Penny. Maybe eventually we’ll be looking for a flat near Penny. I hope so. I hope we get there.

I wish you the best birthday ever. The best fucking birthday anyone on this planet has ever had, Baz. And an incredible year. And an amazing life after that. You deserve it. I’ll be there to share that year and that life with you, for as long as I can.

Well. If all goes according to plan, you’ll be reading this in front of your family, and I don’t want you to sob like a baby in front of them, so I’ll stop now. But I just need you to know that you matter, so much.

Love,

Me.

There. Perfect. Simon started copying the words from the draft paper to the card.

*

Baz glanced at the recipe again to make sure. Three quarters cup of butter wasn’t going to be enough for his boyfriend. He turned back to the counter and filled the cup to the brim with melted butter.

As he poured the butter from the cup to the bowl, he heard Mordelia’s small, barefoot steps entering the kitchen, and then he was attacked from behind with a waist-height hug.

“Hey!” He turned around, pretending to be mad. “Never put your sticky little hands on my clothes again. As your punishment, you now have to help me bake.” He lifted her onto the counter and she giggled. “Here, take this and mix the batter.”

Mordelia turned to the bowl beside her and started mixing with great concentration as Baz added the rest of the ingredients. Mordelia helped him shape the batter into scones, and when they came out of the oven, round and fresh and smelling like the feeling of home and lazy mornings and butter, he let her have one.

The rest of the scones went with Baz to Simon and Penny’s flat. Baz hardly bothered to knock these days. He had a key to the flat, but since Simon was the world’s biggest airhead, the door was usually left unlocked. It was the first in a long list of things that both Baz and Penny chided him on.

He called out as he entered, but spotted Simon almost immediately, sitting at the kitchen table with a look of intense concentration. When he noticed his boyfriend, Simon quickly shoved the piece of paper he was working on under the napkin holder.

“What’s that?” Baz gestured to the table.

Simon waved his hand, trying to blow away the question, but he looked a bit worried. “It’s nothing.” He enveloped Baz in a hug and a kiss. “Are these scones for me?”

Baz nodded. “Home baked.”

Simon’s thrilled yell startled Penny out of her room. The three of them spent a cozy afternoon together, eating scones and watching movies, but Baz couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that Simon was hiding something from him.

February 14th

Valentine’s day wasn’t nearly as big a deal for mages as it was for Normals, but Simon had told Baz all about what it was like for Normals a few months ago. Apparently, they went completely out of their way to show their partners that they loved them. To Baz, it seemed kind of obvious that people liked who they’re dating. But apparently Normals bought ridiculous gifts, like huge teddy bears that were completely impractical, or much too much chocolate for one person.

Actually, in Simon’s case, there was no such thing as too much chocolate. Baz supposed the whole ordeal was kind of sweet. At least, it was sweet how excited Simon got over the holiday. So he decided to surprise him with a date.

He was currently at a Normal shopping centre, making preparations. Baz looked at the bags he was holding, wondering if anything was missing. He had bought a teddy bear (medium sized, so it could fit on Simon’s bed); a box of chocolates (not heart shaped, God forbid); a bouquet of red and white roses (these, Baz could appreciate the value of); and a box of pastries (chock-full of butter, of course). It seemed like enough, until a colorful stall caught Baz’s eye. In a clear plastic case sat a pile of colorful heart shaped candies, engraved with cheesy-sweet sentiments. Kiss me. First love. Be mine. Baz thought that some grubby little child had probably put their dirty hands all over the candy. Simon, on the other hand, would love them. Baz added a bag of the candies to his shopping pile.

Next was picking up Simon’s favorite dishes at an Italian restaurant they liked, and finally, picking Simon up and taking him on a surprise picnic in the park.

*

Simon didn’t usually bake, but since he wanted everything to be special on his boyfriend’s perfect birthday, he had announced to Penny and Agatha that he was going to make the cake himself. They had promptly laughed in his face, and then offered to teach him how to bake.

At the time, Simon had protested that there was always a recipe, and you didn’t need to learn how to bake. Now he couldn’t be happier that the girls had convinced him to make a practice cake, especially after Baz’s scones had set the bar pretty high. Apparently, there was a certain cup size you had to use for measurements, and there were different types of flour for different types of doughs, and some people (Simon included) needed to break a few eggs wrong before they could break an egg right.

So the brisk knock at the door, followed by Baz’s voice floating in, couldn’t have come at a worse time. Simon was wearing Penny’s ridiculous apron, which had the names of classical composers printed haphazardly all over it in strange angles, and he was covered in flour and a milk stain.

“Shit. What do I do?”

Agatha pulled the apron off Simon’s neck and patted most of the flour off his shirt. “Make up some excuse, if you can.”

Simon walked around the corner to the front of the house tentatively. “Hey!”

Baz flourished yet another bouquet of flowers. What had gotten into him lately? “Hello. I’ve come to steal you for a few hours.”

“Oh, it’s… it’s not the best time. Er, Agatha is here, and, erm, she and Penny really want me to bake this cake with them…. Can we please reschedule for tomorrow?”

“Actually, we can’t. You can bake a cake any other time. Oh, it smells good…” Baz started to walk towards the kitchen, but Simon quickly got in his way. “Snow, what are you doing? I would like to say hello to Penny and Agatha.”

“Snow?” Simon seemed dumbfounded. “You haven’t called me that in a while.”

Baz sighed. “I’m sorry. It just feels like you’ve been pulling away from me lately. Which makes me feel like we’re in school again. Which is one of the reasons you need to come with me right now, because I planned a lovely date for us, and the food is getting cold.”

Simon ran a hand through his hair, mussing up the curls. “Give me three minutes, and then we can leave, okay? This is really sweet. Thank you.”

“Alright. I’ll say hello to the girls and then wait in the car. I’m not sure that it isn’t going to get towed away.”

“Erm, no. I – I need three minutes first, and then you can say hello.” Simon hurried into the kitchen and shut the door firmly behind him, feeling very guilty. “Ladies. We need to wrap this up. I told him we were baking a cake, but he probably expects something much… smaller than this.”

Penny looked back and forth between the multi-layered cake and the door, behind which stood Baz. “We’re just about done. It needs to go into the refrigerator for a few hours.”

Agatha shook her head. “He might want to see it if it’s in the refrigerator.” She picked the cake up carefully and slid it gracefully into the oven.

Penny, ever the rule stickler, looked shocked. “You – you can’t. It’s a chilled cake.”

“Just trust me, okay?” She shut the oven door just as Baz opened the door.

“Simon, this is ridiculous. Hello, Wellbelove, Bunce. Please tell my idiot boyfriend that he can bake with you any other time, and that today is Valentine’s Day, which he was excited about, and he has to come with me before our food gets cold.”

“That sounds like kidnapping.”

Agatha, ever the peacemaker, shot Penny a glare. “I personally couldn’t agree more. We actually just put the cake in the oven, so it’s the perfect time for Simon to leave.”

“The oven… isn’t on.”

“We’re using magic. That’s why it doesn’t look turned on. Penelope wanted to practice her heating magic. Right, Penny?” Agatha sickly-sweet smile still held a remnant of the murderous glare.

“Erm… yes. Exactly. Simon, go and have fun. It is Valentine’s Day, after all. We’ve got this.”

February 24th

The last week and a half before Baz’s birthday passed uneventfully. He and Simon toured a few apartments and had some nights out, but neither one had any more steps to their plan. Simon was done with his. Baz was just exhausted and out of ideas.

*

In Simon’s opinion, Baz’s birthday passed without a hitch. He showed up at the Pitch manor at the appointed time. Breakfast, presents, and a lazy morning all went according to plan. Baz even teared up a little when reading his card.

“You’re such a sap, Sn– Simon. I– I love you too.” Baz embraced him, but Simon was practically buzzing with giddiness and pushed him off.

“Open the rest of it!”

“This gift card entitles you to–” Baz burst out laughing. “That’s incredible. I am definitely using it in the next week. And this is… jeans. These are jeans. You probably want me to change into them right now, don’t you?” Baz walked into the guest bathroom accompanied by excited cheers from both Simon and his siblings, and emerged wearing a snug pair of jeans to excited claps and whoops from his parents.

*

Later, in Baz’s room, Simon decided it was time for a little digging. “Do you… this is a bit random.” He picked at Baz’s duvet absentmindedly. “Do you still have grandmothers?”

“Daphne’s parents live an hour away. We see them once a month or so.”

“And your biological grandparents…?”

Baz shook his head minutely.

“Oh! It’s one already! I told Penny I would let her know– your dead relatives are fascinating and everything, but do you want to have lunch with the girls? Maybe Dev and Niall?”

“My dead relatives are fascinating, don’t disrespect them like that.” Baz broke out in a smile. Maybe Simon’s cold patch was over. “Sure. Let’s have lunch.”

*

Later, much later, they were walking on a lamp lit street, arms hooked together and frosty breaths mingling in the air, and Simon leaned his head on Baz’s shoulder. “I have to admit, that exhibition was actually interesting.”

“I know. Robert was a genius. But I’m still having a bit of a hard time believing that you enjoyed an art exhibition so much.” Baz could feel Simon shaking with laughter beside him, his warm body pressed to his shoulder to hip. He didn’t want to ruin the moment. He really didn’t. But… “Simon. We should talk.”

Simon picked his head up and Baz immediately missed the comforting weight on his shoulder. “Huh?”

“You’ve been distant lately. As if you don’t really want to spend time with me.”

“Don’t be silly. I love you. Here, let’s walk through this park.” Simon was barely listening, pulling on Baz’s sleeve to steer him towards a lit patch of grass.

Baz took a deep breath. “You’re avoiding my questions again. It feels… It feels like you’re hiding something from me.”

Simon stopped walking and looked back at him with sudden realization. “Something like… your birthday surprise?”

Baz squinted at the park ahead of them. Were those...?

“Don’t be silly. I would never hide anything from you. Not again.” Simon reached up and kissed Baz sweetly. “Now come on. Everybody is waiting for us. I’m in charge of bringing the birthday boy, and it’s too simple a job to mess up.”

Baz let Simon lead the way. He didn’t want him to see the ridiculous grin that he couldn’t seem to wipe off his face.

[mageicalwishes]

Read on AO3: Here

Rating: General Audiences

Summary: Oovoo Javer? Oovoo Javer. AKA: Baz is Simon's slightly dickhead-ish Uber driver. "I kept trying to talk to him - Asking about his night, and whether he always listens to Classical music, or if it was just for show - but he ignored me. Staring unamusedly at me in the mirror, eyebrow raised and lips tilted downwards. He got 2 stars for that trip." Carry On Countdown, Day 16 - Meme/Crack @carryon-countdown​

Key Info: Inspired by this prompt from @cyberbullyingz​

Tags: Meet-Cute, Fluff, AU - Normal Life, Oovoo Javer Vine, Uber Driver Baz, Overworked PA Simon, First Kiss, Meme/Crack, Short & Sweet, Carry On Countdown 2020 Day 16

Words: 1,287

Simon

The day I met him, everything was awkward. Basilton. My driver.

His profile came highly rated, and his picture was … nice. But, he turned out to be a bit of a dick.

I kept trying to talk to him - Asking about his night, and whether he always listens to Classical music, or if it was just for show - but he ignored me. Staring unamusedly at me in the mirror, eyebrow raised and lips tilted downwards.

He got 2 stars for that trip.

The next day, he answered my request again. Parking his unreasonably sleek, black car in front of my flat, just as it turned 2AM. Eyes fixed forward, and frown firmly in place (He wasn’t much of a charmer, at first).

He got 3 stars for that trip.

And, after that, it became routine. Every time Davy called me out for one of his absurd late-night favours (That he insists all PA’s do unpaid. Which I know is bullshit), Basilton was there. My own stoic chauffeur.

The first day he talked, beyond his normal cursory ‘Hello’, was a revelation.

“Don’t you ever sleep?” He’d asked. And fuck, I nearly died. He sounded so posh - So lavish - his voice all Champagne and Velvet.

“I have to work. And … you’re awake too. So, you’re really no better than me.”

He’d hummed at that, dismissively. So, I just kept rambling on, hoping to spark some kind of lasting conversation. We’d been seeing each other most days for, like, 3 weeks at this point. So, I didn’t think it was weird to want to get to know him a little. But … apparently he did.

“Are you always this chatty?” He’d asked. The indignant bastard.

“I don’t know. Are you always this freakishly quiet? It’s a bit creepy, to be honest.”

He flicked his eyes over to me in the rear-view mirror. Cool, unbothered grey, assessing my reflection. “I respect people’s boundaries. Give them space to breathe. Perhaps you should try it?”

“Knob,” I chuffed (Failing to consider that, he could probably report me to Uber for being rude, and get me perma-banned, or something. Which would be completely shit, ‘cause then I’d have to go back to using Taxis, which would probably leave me bankrupt). “I just wanna’ talk to you a bit. Come on, Basilton. Aren’t you bored of sitting in silence?”

“Don't call me that, Snow.”

I smiled at the back of his seat. Pleased to have finally drawn a reaction from him. “Why not? That’s your name, isn’t it?”

“Technically.”

“Technically? How can it ‘technically’ be your name?”

He turned his head around (Which he really shouldn’t have, considering that the light wasn’t even red. Which was definitely worth dashing a star, me thinks) and scowls.

“It is my name. But, I prefer to be called Baz.”

“Oh. Well. Call me Simon, and I’ll call you Baz.”

“This isn’t a negotiation, Snow. If you insist on talking to me, you could at least have the decency to refer to me correctly. Alright?”

“Fine,” I huffed. “But I’m gonna make you call me Simon, somehow. Whether you like it, or not!”

He got 4 stars for that trip.

As it turns out, getting him to call me Simon was easy enough. All I had to do was cry (Although, that wasn’t what I had planned. I was just gonna annoy him into saying it, to be honest).

About 2 months after he relented to my nattering (In which we’d had many long, not-really-meaningful conversations about our jobs and families. Our friends and shared television interests), I ended up breaking down in the back seat of his car.

I probably should’ve just walked home - Since I knew that I wasn’t going to make it without blubbing. But, I didn’t really want to risk getting shanked, just so I could preserve my dignity. And … more than that, I just didn’t want to be alone. And Baz … Well, he was the closest thing I had to a friend (What with Penny and Agatha both thriving in America.)

He was happy to see me, as he always was at that stage. But, I’d never seen a smile drop as fast as when he turned around and saw the state of my face - All reddened and wet.

“Simon,” he’d breathed. “What’s wrong?”

I looked up at him - At his forehead creased with worry, and that long-lost frown plastered across his face, once again. And, I knew that it was a mistake to have sent out a driver request.

“I - I don’t. Davy. Penny. Everything.”  

That’s all I managed to get out before I was properly sobbing.

Without hesitation, he’d unbuckled his seat belt, and got out of the car. Pulling open the passenger door and squatting down besides me, hovering his hand above my thigh. So close.

“Shove over, Snow. We can sit here for a little while, alright?”

I did as I was told, and he slipped in besides me.

“Do you … want to talk about it?”

I shook my head, and he didn’t push it further (Thank, God). Simply, sitting besides me, while I waited for the storm to pass. And letting me lie my heavy head against his shoulder, until the noise died down.

“Hey, Snow,” He’d whispered, breath tickling the shell of my ear. “Want to go and get some scones? Ebb’s café is open for at least another half an hour, so we can make it if we leave now.”

“How do you even know I like them?” I’d asked, scrubbing at cheeks, in a failed attempt to remove the evidence of my embarrassment.

“Because,” he drawled, leaning his face in towards me - My heart jumping up into my throat, foolishly, at his proximity. “I’m the one who has to hoover scone crumbs out of my backseats everyday, you menace.”

I’d returned home, well fed and happy, that night. Happier than I’d been in a long time.

So, he got 5 stars for that trip.

------------------

After that things just … happened. First, he’d given me his number - ‘Only that way, Uber won’t take a cut, and you’ll get me directly,’ he’d said. The sly fox. He only managed to keep up the the false ‘strictly professional’ pretence for a week, before he cracked and asked me about my opinions on Jane Austen (Of which, I had none). And then … he invited me out with him.  

I could tell he was nervous about it. Since he kept on assuring me that he only meant it in a friendly way - That he wasn’t pushing me into anything. But, he ended up taking me to the most expensive Italian restaurant in town, so I made my own assumptions.

Then, a few days later, I kissed him. We were walking home from town (After a trip to the cinema to watch the new Marvel film), when he lobbed a snowball at the back of my head. And then, before I even knew what was happening, we’d broken out into a full on war. Cheeks red, and chests heaving with the exertion. The hot mist of his laughter visible against the chilled winter air. He was beaming over me - Eyes bright and crinkled - and I just … did it. Finally.  

And now we’re here, in our own little flat, being proper boyfriends. Pushing his grabby hands away from me, and squabbling over contact names (Because apparently, having him saved as ‘Oovoo javer’ is insulting, given the fact that I’m entered as ‘love’ on his phone).

I threaten him with a 1 star boyfriend-rating for being stroppy. But, he manages to snog his way back up to at least a 4 by the end of the evening.

He’s definitely the hottest Uber driver I’ve ever had.

[mytinyislandofcalm]

Day 7 - Saturday July 25th - Free choice. Be creative!  Fan art, videos, edits, fics - anything you like to celebrate Keenler!

Last but not least - A Keenler FanFic! Enjoy :) @keenlerweek @aussieokie @alyblacklist

2 Days. It's been 2 days since he took her from him.

He didn't know where she was 

And he blamed himself for it. 

"Uncle Donnie, I can't sleep...!" Agnes pulled him out of his thoughts.

"Come on sweetheart I'll tuck you in." He picked her up and carried her into the bed.

"Uncle Donnie... Where is Mommy?" His heart stopped for a second. What should he tell her? Hey Agnes your mom was kidnapped because of me?

"I actually don't know Munchkin" he said "But we are trying everything to find her, I promise you she'll be back soon"

"When is she coming back.. I miss her!" 

He knew he had to change the subject

" Aha little Miss, So you don't like me, hm? I get it know!" he started tingling her

"Nooo Nooo" she started giggling "You are my favourite Uncle!"

"I most certainly hope so!" he said while looking at her

She looked just like Liz, she had her eyes, her hair and her laugh. Almost everything reminded him of her and how badly he wanted her back.

He was up all night trying to find another way to save her, bring her back to Agnes. Bring her back to him but he couldn't think clearly. He would never forgive himself if something happened to her.

Next Morning he dropped Agnes of at school and went to the Post Office.

When he arrived he saw Reddington arguing with Cooper.

"I have to tell him" he thought. He said No Cops but Reddington was not a cop and he was the only chance to save Liz.

"If you hear something from Elizabeth, anything- I want you to call me, I will get her out myself" Reddington said while putting his  fedora hat on.

He walked towards Ressler and noticed he had something to say.

before Ressler could say anything, Reddington pulled him in the elevator: "Not here, Donald"

"Talk "he said while approaching his Car.

Ressler took a deep breath: " There was guy a partner I worked with.

We were really good friends until I discovered that he was corrupt. He took the Money from the Myers Syndicate who we were investigating at that point of time. I reported it and we breached his apartment. He had his friends from the Kartell over and then a shooting started." 

As He looked over to Reddington, he was calm ,waiting for him to continue. 

" In that shooting his wife was killed and he blames me for it... His name is Ma-"

"Marcus Hale" Reddington sighed.

Ressler was confused,"How do you kn-"

" He is a Blacklister. Did he reach out to you?"

"Yes, he wants the List of the agents who were with me that day. I am supposed to text him on this number" He showed Reddington the number. " But I don't have access to that file."

"Thank you Donald, That’s all I need to know" he pointed at the door" You may leave now"

" You know where she is don't you?" 

" I may have a slightest idea." 

"No, No" Ressler laughed sarcastically." I'm not going anywhere. You know where she is and I am going with you, there is no Way I am leaving now, She is my partner"

"Are you sure that’s the only reason you want to come Donald?"

Ressler never wanted to admit it. Deep down he always knew, that what he felt for her was more than just friendship. Now that she is missing he is starting to see things clearly. He is in love with her, he always was and now she is kidnapped because of him.

"Donald? Donald! Are you even listening?"

"Yeah, Sorry You were saying? 

"I said text him that you have the file"

"But I don't have it"

" Oh Donald always so stiff. Have you ever heard of the Word lying? That's something you do whe-"

"Don't push it Reddington." Ressler took his phone and started typing. "What if it’s too late? „he thought. "What if they've  killed her already? „ That thought sent a shiver down his spine.

The message was sent.

"What now" Ressler asked with a shaky Voice. He hated that he was so weak.

 He hated that she made him weak. Ressler needed to be strong. for her. 

"Now ? Now we wait!" Reddington said.

Not even five minutes later his phone rang.

Ressler looked at Reddington.

"Pick up and put it on speaker"

"Ressler? He answered the phone.

" Oh Don, I knew you would make the right decision. She is quite important to you isn't she?

"Where is Elizabeth Keen?" He asked. He knew he couldn't show too much emotion.

" Bring me the file and you will get her back"

" I need to know if she is alive. Let me talk to her"

" Fine Donnie"

A few seconds later they heard a heavy breathing from the phone : " Ressler?"

Her Voice.  Hearing her voice knowing that she was alive took a little Pressure of his chest. But hearing the pain in her Voice made him want to scream.

Red and Dembe were also relieved.

" Thank God Liz!  Jesus are you alright ?! Did he hurt you?!"

" Ressler" she said. Her voice broke. " Don't give him the file. He will kill me any-"

" Uh Oh I am afraid Times up Donnie" You want to see her? BRING ME THE GODDAMN FILE" 

" But where the hell are we going to meet Marcus?"

"You will find out soon enough!" Marcus said and hung up.

"Damn it ! Damn it! DAMN ITT!" Ressler shouted.

" Calm Down Agent Ressler!" Dembe said

" Calm Down? CALM DOWN!? Did you hear her? She is going to die because of me!"

Liz had been kidnapped often before but this Time. This Time he promised he would protect her. He was her island of calm and he let her down. Reddington remained silent. He was extremely mad and afraid of losing Elizabeth, because he knew. He knew what revenge could make a person do. And Marcus Hale needed that Revenge. Badly. 

" He texted!" Ressler interrupted his thought.

" What does the Text say?" 

"It’s an address: 5483 Pickford Road. D.C at 6 pm, What are we going to do now?"

" You Donald, are going home. There is still plenty of time left." 

" And you ? What are you going to do?"

" Me? I am going to get that file. Goodbye Donald! 

At home Ressler couldn't sit tight. He picked up Agnes from school. He had to bring her someplace safe before their meeting with Hale.

"Aram Mojtabai?"

"Hey Aram ? I need a favour."

"Agent Ressler? Sure What is it?"

"Could you watch Agnes for tonight? I have an important meeting"

"Sure! I will pick her up, Uhm Agent Ressler? Is it about Agent Keen? Is she safe? did you find her? 

"Not yet. But I hope she will be soon..."

Shortly After Aram picked up Agnes.

Ressler got a phone call from Nick's Pizza.

"Donald, Its Time. I am in front of your apartment. Get there." after that he hung up.

Ressler immediately made his way to Reds car.

" Reddington, Did you get the file" 

" Of Course I did well it’s not exactly a file its an USB Stick, Dembe ? Did you call Baz, Chuck and Morgan for backup?"

"Yes Raymond I did. There are all in position." 

Ressler was a nervous wreck inside. He must have looked that way because Reddington said:   " We are going to get her out safely."

Ressler remembered the first time that he thought she was dead. His whole world broke apart back then. He didn't want to no; he couldn't lose her again.

Dembe suddenly stopped the car.

“Agent Ressler, you have to go alone from here”

“ Donald there is a listening and tracking device in the Stick, so we will be knowing what is happening and where you are going. Good Luck”

Ressler took a deep breath and went to the meeting point. After a few minutes a guy with sunglasses came towards him. “Agent Donald Ressler? Come with me.”

They went into a Warehouse. Ressler looked around and then he saw her. She was wearing a dress. A dress which looked familiar to him. There where 5 to 10 men surrounding them but he only had eyes for her.

“Liz..” he whispered again. But this Time he finally had her in his arms. He gently stroked her back. She started crying and Ressler felt so helpless but  he finally had her back. He kissed her eyes, her cheek and her forehead. A little embarrassed by his outward affection he pulled away and his eyes dropped to her dress. He couldn´t stop thinking about the dress which looked so awfully familiar.

“Donnie! My dear friend ! Long Time No see huh? “. Ressler protectively put himself in front of Liz.

“ Do you have the File? “

“ Listen Marcus. This is how its gonna go. I will hand  you the file and you will let me and Elizabeth go. You hear me?”

“Fine, and now give it to me.”

“I don´t like this. He agreed too fast . Dembe call the others we have to move.”

Marcus looked at the file. Then he nodded. Two guards came from behind and grabbed Ressler.

“ I’m sorry Don. Change of plans” he took Liz by her Arm. She would fight, but she had no power.

“GET YOUR FRICKING HANDS OF HER OR I SWEAR TO GOD I WILL-“

“You will what? Kill me? I think this will be a little hard in your.. Position” Marcus laughed.

“Donnie, what I have been meaning to ask you… Does this dress look familiar ?

“Take. Your Hands. Off.  Her”

“Yeah No. I am not gonna do that. But remember this dress? This is the dress, my wife wore when YOU KILLED HER! And I am going to the same thing to her what you did to my wife. What you did TO ME!

It was those words that made ressler pause. Hanging in the hair were the words that defined how he really felt for Liz. The same value of Marcus's wife.

Ressler’s Heart stopped. They were going to kill her. Another friend of his was going to take the Life of the woman he loved.

“ No. Please! Marcus! You can´t do this ! Please! Take me! She has nothing to do with this please!”

“No; No killing you will not give me the satisfaction . I want to see you suffer.”

Ressler made attempts to wriggle out of the guards’ grip. But he failed. He screamed, he shouted, he begged. But nothing helped.  Tears came out of his eyes. I realized, that this was the moment he could lose her. She couldn’t go without knowing.

“I LOVE YOU, LIZ” he said under tears. “I love you. I love you: I LOVE YOU” he repeated like his mantra.

In between her tears and struggles Liz stopped at his words. Her eyes caught Ressler's and her eyebrows furrowed. She'd never seen him like this.

Liz wanted to say something but suddenly there was a shot. One of the guards that was holding him fell to the ground. Soon after the other one went down.

Ressler reacted fast. He took the gun and shot two other guards.  As he looked back he didn’t just see Reds Team. Harold and Park were standing there backing them up. Only Marcus was left. But he held a gun on to Liz’s head.

“Well If I am going to be arrested anyway, I can still do the thing I was planning to do. Any last words; Agent Keen?”

Liz cried. Ressler had never seen her this vulnerable.

“ Ressler, I lo-“ A shot.

 Marcus fell on the ground. Dead. Liz fell on to her knees sobbing and crying. Ressler told her that he loved her. She couldn´t even say how long she wanted to hear him say that. He came over to her and hugged her. “Shhh, Its gonna be fine. I am right here.”

“ I -love..” she tried to say. “ I lo…”

“I know. I know. It’s okay.

“ Donald. There is an ambulance outside. Get her checked and drive her to your apartment. She can’t be alone tonight.”

After getting checked. Ressler drove her to his apartment.

“Where is Agnes?” Liz asked while taking her coat off.

“She is with Aram” They looked at each other. Not saying anything.

“Look what I said earlier I-“ He was interrupted by her lips. She stopped thinking in that momemt. His lips were warm and soft. She felt safe. A feeling she didn’t have for a while. Ressler was still in shock. 

Realizing what was happening, Ressler responded the kiss. His was hand was cupping her neck while his arm was pulling her as close as possible. She pulled back just to look at him again. His eyes were vulnerable, but relieved, you could see how badly he wanted her.

Ressler broke the kiss again but before Liz could start protesting, she felt his lips kissing her jawline down to her neck. Her Hands moved into his hair when she pulled him up to kiss him again.

“You have no idea how long I wanted to do this” Ressler said between the kisses.

But just as he said those words he realised what a long day it must have been for Liz and resisted kissing her more.

“As much I would like to continue this Liz, you have to go and rest. You can use the shower, or the bathtub.”

“Thank you."

Her face was flushed and she pulled back a lock of her hair from her face. Before she walked away she added, "Oh and Don? I love you too”

[floralelu]

Le Fleuriste Episode III:

WARNING: MENTIONS/USE OF ALCOHOL AND SMOKING

Word Count: 4,402

Summary: Lucas is confronted with the man of his dreams, as of one day of course. How will it go? Will Lucas fall deeper into love, or convince himself that Eliott isn’t the boy for him.

———————————————————————

Lucas spent the first few minutes after Eliott had sent the message standing on the sidewalk and staring at his screen. He exited the app and reopened it to make sure the message wasn’t a figment of his imagination and his mind wasn’t playing, what would be, a very mean trick on him. It wasn’t until his brain kicked into gear that he started to freak out.

“Oh my god, he really just-” Lucas didn’t know what to do. Here was the boy that he liked if he could even call it that seeing as it had only been one day since they met, saying that Lucas was beautiful and now all of a sudden Lucas didn’t know how to act. Maybe Yann would know? Lucas opened his messages and tapped on the conversation with Yann.

13:23 pm Lucas: YANN

13:25 pm Lucas: YANN JSNDJE

13:26 pm Lucas: LOIK AT RHIS

13:26 pm Lucas: [1 image attatchment]

13:27 pm Lucas: WHAT DO I DO?

13:31 pm Lucas: STOP FLIRTING WITH EMMA AND HELP ME

13:37 pm Lucas: you suck, i’m coming to the store

The walk back to King’s Grove felt like it took forever. Now that it was later in the day more people were outside. Some were running errands, some were just out walking, but all of them were in Lucas’ way. He lost count of how many shoulders he bumped into. It wasn’t until Lucas was pulling open the door to Frizzies that he let out the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. Emma looked up from her place at the register as the bell above the door rang.

She smiled at him, “Lucas! You’re back.”

“Hi Em, do you know where Yann is?”

“We were just talking a minute ago,” Lucas mentally rolled his eyes, “he might be in the back? You’re welcome to go look.”

Lucas thanked Emma and headed towards the back room. He found Yann sitting at a table, eating a sandwich from the cafe. Lucas walked up behind him and lightly slapped his shoulder.

Yann whipped his head around, “Ow! What the hell?”

Lucas glared at him, “That’s for not answering my messages. I’m in the middle of a crisis, Yann!” Lucas sat down into a chair across from his friend. Yann rolled his eyes and shook his head.

“What are you talking about?”

Lucas opened up his phone to his messages with Eliott and slid it across the table, “This!”

Yann read the messages and looked back up at Lucas after a minute. The two stared at each other, but Lucas was the first to speak.

“What?”

Yann sighed, “Lucas… you know he can see that you read this right? And it’s been what? Almost two hours since he sent it?”

Lucas twisted his head around to find the clock attached to the wall, his eyes growing wide while reading 14:35, “Oh shit, oh my god. He probably thinks he creeped me out or something. I just didn’t know how to respond. Yann, I have to fix this.”

“Woah, breathe Luc. It’s gonna be okay. Just message him back and say thank you.” Yann reached over the table and laid a comforting hand onto Lucas’s shoulder.

“I know it seems like I’m overreacting, and maybe I am, but no one like Eliott has ever made me feel like this, Yann. It’s been less than 24 hours since I met the guy but I can’t get him out of my head. There’s something here that I don’t want to lose, I just don’t know what that thing is yet.”

Yann looked across the table at Lucas, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. Lucas may not know what it is, but Yann sure had a guess. Lucas had never talked about someone like this. After Lucas came out, the gang had promised to always have Lucas’s back, and they’d be his wingmen when needed. While most of the time, the boys failed to find someone up to his “standards” (though Yann would disagree with that statement, simply calling Lucas picky), Lucas was glad to have friends like them. Seeing Lucas so upset at the current situation, Yann knew that he truly didn’t want this to ruin his chances with Eliott.

“Well, we know he finds you attractive, so that’s a good sign, right?” Yann asked.

“I mean, yeah I guess,” Lucas shrugged, “but that won’t mean anything if he decides he doesn’t want to talk to me because I left him on seen.” Lucas put his head in his hands, “I’m usually able to talk to guys, why is this so hard?”

Yann chuckled, “Luc, I think you actually like this guy, that’s the difference.”

“That’s the thing though, I don’t even know anything about him. I know his name, his Instagram and where he works, but that’s it.”

“So? Find something to talk about, learn more about him. What do you think dates are for?” Yann raised an eyebrow, “I bet if you asked him to go out right now he’d say yes.”

Lucas raised his head, “Haha, very funny. Not happening. I don’t need to embarrass myself anymore just because you think he’d say yes.”

Yann raised his hands in mock surrender, “Hey, I’m just saying. When have I ever been wrong?”

“Well,” Lucas tilted his head to the side, “how about the time we went to that party and I said maybe we shouldn’t get completely wasted because we had a test the next day and you said, “Luc, we’ll be fine!” but we ended up missing that test because we were nursing our hangovers? Or there was the time you told Baz that the girl at the pretzel stand was hitting on him, so he went up there only to get a smoothie thrown in his face? And let’s not forget the time when the only milk left in the fridge was expired but you said it would be okay to drink and all four of us-”

“Okay!” Yann cut Lucas off, “There have been times where I was wrong, I get it. But I know I’m right about this.”

Lucas hummed in response, looking back at the open messages on his phone when Yann spoke up again, “What if you went to see him?”

Lucas’s head shot up at the suggestion, “You mean like right now?”

“Well, yeah. His store is just across the street, it’s not like you have to go far.” Yann was looking at Lucas, waiting for his reply.

“I don’t know, Yann.” Lucas sighed, “Wouldn’t be weird for me to show up to his store after not replying to his message. By accident.”

“Right. Well, as I said earlier, maybe just respond with a thank you and see where it goes? At least let him know you didn’t mind the compliment. With leaving him on seen he might think you aren’t interested.”

“I hate this. I’m gonna head over the cafe to get some lunch. Thanks, Yann.”

Yann smiled at him, “No problem, dude. We’ll figure this out.”

Lucas made his way out of the backroom and towards the front of the store. Emma was still at the register. Lucas said goodbye as he left the music store and headed across the street to the cafe. Lucas pulled the door open and stepped inside. All at once, he was hit with the smell of fresh-baked bread and lemon. He glanced around the cafe, spotting Manon behind the counter ringing a customer up and Alexia plating some pastries behind the glass display case. Lucas was here to eat lunch, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to update the girls on the Eliott situation. He made his way over to the line behind the register and looked up at the menu. He settled on a sandwich and, of course, one of their danishes.

“Hey!” Manon was looking at him with a smile on her face, “you’re back again! What can I get you?”

Lucas told her his order and Manon rang him out. It wasn’t until she was handing him his change that he added, “When you and Alex get a second, could I talk to you guys?”

Manon looked at him questioningly, “Is everything alright?”

“Yes! I think. I just have to tell you guys about the Eliott thing.”

A smile broke out on Manon’s face, “Oh! The Eliott thing, is that what we’re calling this? Once Alexia and I can catch a break we’ll come to find you.”

“Thanks, Manon.”

She nodded her head and Lucas went to go sit down. He picked a booth in the back corner, away from the late lunchtime rush. Lucas peered out the window and watched the people outside. There was an older man laughing at something the woman next to him said. There was also a little boy holding on to his mother’s hand as they walked down the cobblestone street. They reminded Lucas of himself and his mother when he was younger and everything was a little less complicated. Lucas didn’t hear the incoming footsteps, but the voice startled him out of his daze.

“Hi there.” It was Eliott.

“Uh, h-hi.” Lucas gulped, was Eliott angry with him? For not replying to his message?

“Is everything alright?” Eliott asked. “You look like you might faint.”

Oh god, Lucas would never be able to face Eliott again if he fainted. He needed to chill the fuck out. He could be suave right? He had been with the ladies once upon a time.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine, dude. Nothing to worry about here,” Lucas chuckled. “Just haven’t eaten in a while, you know?”

Eliott slid into the booth across from him. His knees brushed Lucas’ and Lucas couldn’t help but blush at the slightest bit of contact.

“Yeah, I haven’t eaten since breakfast this morning, business is always busy at Barney’s, especially during this time of year.” Eliott smiled at him.

God, that smile. All Lucas wanted was to be able to make Eliott smile, and kiss the apples of his cheeks when he did.

“I’ll be right back, I’ve been craving one of their danishes lately,” Eliott stood up and then turned back at Lucas. “By the way, you’re cute when you blush.”

Once Eliott had reached the counter and began ordering, Lucas finally felt his lungs give out from the breath he had been holding. This boy was so flirtatious, and Lucas had no experience in flirting, at least with men anyway.

Eliott returned to his seat across from Lucas, only to be greeted with Alexia carrying plates of food in her arms.

“Ham and cheese sandwich accompanied by a sweet cheese danish for Lucas,” Alexia retrieved Lucas’ plate and set it across from him. “And a cherry jam danish for the dashing gentleman.” Alexia smiled at Eliott and offered her hand. “I’m Alexia, you must be Eliott, the boy Lucas won’t stop talking about.”

Eliott glanced at Alexia’s hand before shaking it. “So he’s been talking about me?” Eliott grinned at Alexia before he cocked an eyebrow at Lucas, which only made Lucas blush harder.

“He sprinted in here this morning bright and early just for us to tell him all about you. However, he only ran into a dead end since we didn’t know much about you. The love in his eyes would make any woman melt or man in this case.”

Lucas slapped Alexia’s arm.

“Ow! What was that for?”

Lucas widened his eyes and nodded towards Eliott.

“Right! I’ll leave you guys alone. Have fun you two!” Alexia smiled and waved back at them as she was heading towards the counter to return to her duties.

“So, you’ve been talking about me?”

“Yeah,” Lucas felt cornered. Was he really going to confess his one-day-old crush to Eliott already? No, no way. “She’s just joking, you know how best friends are.” Lucas poked and prodded at his danish, embarrassed.

“Yeah, Idriss wouldn’t stop talking about how clumsy I was to Mrs. Lawerence one day when I broke two vases. The first time wasn’t even my fault! Ginger was the one who knocked the vase over!” Eliott shook his head and took a bite of his danish.

“Okay, wait, who’s Mrs. Lawerence and Ginger?” Lucas asked.

“Mrs. Lawerence was a good friend of my grandfather’s and Ginger is the cat that always hangs out in the garden behind the shop and sometimes hangs out inside during the summers, she gets herself into trouble.”

“I see,” Lucas chuckled, both at the story and the fact that he was starting to relax. “Hey, I’m sorry for not replying to your message earlier.”

“Oh! It’s okay, I figured you got busy or something,” Eliott took another bite of his sandwich. “I hope I didn’t freak you out or anything by what I said. I have a tendency-”

Lucas cut him off.

“You didn’t freak me out.”

“Good,” Eliott sighed in relief. “Would you like to hang out after this? If you’re not busy of course, we could go to the garden behind the shop. Maybe you can meet Ginger?”

Was Eliott asking him out on...a date? No, he couldn’t be. They’re just going to “hang out”, as friends do, not as boyfriends do.

“Yeah, sure,” Lucas took a bite of his sandwich. “I’d love to.”

———————————————————————

It was dusk now, the birds were singing peaceful lullabies and most of the shops were closing for the day, including Barney’s. Lucas followed Eliott into the alleyway.

“This looks like a great place for me to get murdered, great choice, Eliott,” Lucas chuckled at his own joke unless...was Eliott a serial killer?

“And then, Lucas was never to be seen again,” Eliott said and then laughed wickedly. “Seriously, I’m not a serial killer though.” Eliott finally unlocked the wooden gate leading to the oasis among the shops. “Welcome to my evil lair!” Eliott laughed maniacally again.

“You’re starting to creep me out,” Lucas chuckled and followed Eliott through the gate.

Lucas gaped at the garden before him. A gravel path trailed down the center of the garden. It was divided by another, less intimidating wooden fence than before, guarded by another gate. Behind the gate was a greenhouse that held fruit trees of many kinds as well as tropical flowers. A variety of trees and shrubbery surrounded the greenhouse. To the right of the greenhouse were wooden boxes, displaying newly sprouted plants from the soil, each marked by a popsicle stick that labeled the names of each row of sprouts. On the other side of the divided garden was what looked like to be a place for hosting and maybe being a place to get away from the busy shop life. Lucas knew he could spend hours here, especially with Eliott.

“Beautiful isn’t it?” Eliott asked, looking down and meeting Lucas’ eyes. “I used to come out here all the time when I was a kid, to paint and to read, I still do.”

Lucas jumped at the sudden contract at his feet with an orange cat, brushing between his ankles and it’s tail wrapping around his leg.

“This is Ginger, I’m assuming?”

“The very one,” Eliott squatted down to pet her and Lucas matched his stance. “She likes to be petted on her neck.”

“Here?” Lucas asked and touched Ginger’s neck to which she hissed and pawed at Lucas, catching him off guard. Lucas leaned back, missing Ginger’s claws.

“No,” Eliott laughed and reached for Lucas’ hand. He placed it on the side of Ginger’s neck. “See? Feel her purring?”

Lucas could feel it, but it wasn’t the only thing purring. Lucas’ heart raced and butterflies fluttered in his stomach. Eliott didn’t remove his hand. It was warm and comforting. He kept it there and felt Ginger’s purring with him. Lucas prayed it was too dark to tell that Lucas was blushing even though Eliott already called it cute.

Lucas felt the need to change the subject in order to keep his cool.

“So, you paint?” Lucas asked, glancing between Eliott and the cat.

“Yeah! I actually used to host art shows in this garden, but I mostly paint for myself now,” Ginger became fed up with Lucas’ atrocious petting technique and moved into Eliott’s lap, Eliott petted her tenderly. “It’s funny,” Eliott giggled. “I have this obsession with sunflowers.”

Lucas remembered the sunflower being held up in front of Eliott’s face on his Instagram profile.

“I assume that’s your favorite flower then?” Lucas asked, picking at the grass beneath him.

“It’s only the best choice as far as favorite flowers go,” Eliott explained, rolling the sleeves up of his grey sweater, revealing a tattoo of a flower with an eye in the middle along with another tattoo in a cursive script that Lucas couldn’t read in the dim light. “I mean, who wouldn’t choose that as their favorite flower? It’s bright and beautiful, it reminds me of summer no matter what time of year I look at it.”

Lucas smiled at the easy conversation. That’s how everything has felt so far with Eliott. Easy. He couldn’t even think as to why he was so nervous this morning, all he had to do was talk to him.

“Lucas, you look like you’re thinking hard about something,” Eliott stared at him and tilted his head like a confused puppy. “What is it?”

“I’m thinking…” Lucas trailed off. He couldn’t reveal how much this conversation meant to him. He couldn’t tell Eliott that his eyes had a certain sparkle no star could ever match when he talked about something that he was passionate about. Shit, for all Lucas knows, Eliott is straight. “about how much I want to see these paintings of yours.”

“Well, what are you waiting for? Let’s go!” Eliott jumped up and offered his hand to Lucas.

“Wait, now? Where are we going?”

“To my apartment!” Eliott exclaimed. Lucas saw Eliott’s frown in reaction to Lucas’ panicked look. “Lucas, you don’t have to go,” Eliott started giggling. “I promise I’m not a murderer.”

Lucas couldn’t let this get to him. This boy is straight, Lucas told himself. Nothing to worry about.

It wasn’t that Lucas was afraid of Eliott being a serial killer or anything of the sort, he was afraid that he would have his first kiss tonight, or his first time. A series of new experiences could happen tonight, one after another, but was Lucas ready for it?

“Says you! I bet your last victim is buried beneath me right now!” Lucas joked. Eliott’s expression remained unchanged. “I’m kidding.” Lucas took Eliott’s hand and stood up. He blushed at contact that sent shivers through his spine and butterflies soaring in his stomach.

“So, you’ll come with me?” Eliott smiled, still holding Lucas’ hand. Lucas nodded and felt Eliott’s thumb stroke his knuckles.

———————————————————————

At the end of King’s Grove were some apartment complexes, mostly for the shop keepers, but some hipsters and retired folks lived among them too. The buildings matched the rest of Annecy with a bright color palette. The apartment complex was only a short walk from the flower shop.

The two trailed up the stairs and were greeted by a white door with a wreath made up of delicate flowers including some Baby’s Breath from what Lucas could recognize.

“Cute wreath.” Lucas chuckled.

“I know, I know, it was a housewarming gift from Mrs. Lawrence,” Eliott unlocked the door. “Anyways, welcome to casa de Eliott.”

Lucas was greeted with a massive amount of greenery scattered about the apartment. There were flowers tucked in various vases and bottles, and pots of ferns and vines rested upon shelves. All of the plants were kept neatly trimmed and didn’t appear to be unruly. Along the walls were paintings of sunflowers in many styles, some realistic and others more cartoonish. The kitchen and the living room were joined together and felt spacious despite how small the apartment actually was. Lucas walked around in the living room as Eliott was looking for something to drink in the fridge. Lucas could spot what seemed to be a garden on the balcony.

“Don’t trip on Francine!” Eliott warned Lucas. Lucas looked down at the small pot of succulents at his feet. “She’s very fragile,” Eliott walked over, handing Lucas one of the beers he found in the fridge and moved “Francine” to the coffee table behind Lucas. “My apologies for all the plants, whatever we don’t have room for in the shop, I take home.”

“But you name your plants?” Lucas asked, twisting off the metal lid off the bottle.

“Of course! What do you think I am? Crazy?” Eliott grabbed his beer and twisted off the cap as well. “Cheers.” The two clinked bottles and took a drink.

“Well, I don’t own any plants to name, plus I’d kill them anyway,” Lucas approached the wall, studying one of the sunflower paintings. It was just a sunflower on a white canvas, but it was painted thick globs of paint that appeared still wet as if Lucas could mess it up with a single touch. “I like this one,” Lucas said as Eliott stood beside him.

“Me too,” Eliott smiled, admiring the painting before them, taking another drink from the bottle in his hand. “I feel like a sunflower is somehow the representation of me.”

“What do you mean?” Lucas asked, giving Eliott a puzzled look.

“Sometimes, I appear happy and people don’t see the darkness that goes on within me, you know?” Eliott’s bright smile left his face.

“Wow, that was pretty deep,” Lucas chuckled at his comment, trying to lighten the mood. “What flower do you think represents me?”

Eliott turned to face Lucas now, they were so close to each other. Lucas could feel Eliott’s breath on his face.

“I don’t know, I’ll have to think about it.”

It felt like Eliott was staring into his soul. Lucas could kiss him, right here, right now. He could push every fear aside and just kiss him. He could make their forever start today, he could-.

“Do you smoke?” Eliott asked, pulling a joint from his pocket.

“Oh, I used to,” Lucas stared at the joint. Getting drunk and high with Eliott? What could go wrong! “I still do sometimes, with my friends.”

Eliott nodded and lit the join between his lips, once he lit it he took a long drag and removed it from his lips. Lucas stared at the puff of smoke that escaped from Eliott’s lips. Fuck, he’s so hot.

Eliott offered Lucas the joint and he took it, taking a long drag from it and exhaling. He was starting to relax more and more as the alcohol and weed took effect. He felt himself beginning to unwind.

“God, I can’t believe someone like you names their plants,” Lucas said as he leaned back on the couch. “You’re, like, ridiculously handsome too, I bet women find it sweet as hell that a hot guy like you names his plants.” Lucas laughed and shook his head. Fuck, what was he even saying right now?

“They do,” Eliott laughed along with him. “My ex-girlfriend found it hilarious.”

So that was it, Eliott was straight. Lucas was just starting to think that he got lucky, being in the apartment and sitting across from the most beautiful man he had ever seen. That was it, the end of their forever, all over in the span of one day. Lucas felt a sob in the back of his throat, he could never change how Eliott saw him. He could never kiss those lips or play with his gorgeous golden hair. Back to the fucking drawing board.

Ping! Finally, something to pull Lucas out of his thoughts and get him out of here. He could breakdown at any moment.

22:17 p.m. Yann: Hey, Lu. I just got home. Where are you?

“Everything alright?” Eliott asked.

22:18 p.m. Lucas: yeah, sorry, i had a drink with eliott and lost track of time.

22:19 p.m. Yann: Oooooo. I hope I’m not interrupting! Are you still a virgin?

“Um, yeah, I should go. My friends are wondering where I am,” Lucas glanced up at Eliott, hardly able to look at him. Hard to think that Lucas possibly had a chance with a boy like Eliott.

22:19 p.m. Lucas: no you’re fine. i actually was just leaving. and yes, i am very much a virgin.

22:20 p.m. Yann: Lucas, I don’t want you to walk home by yourself. I‘m sending an uber for you. Send me your location.

22:20 p.m. Lucas: [Lucas shared his location with you]

Lucas stood up and placed his phone in his pocket. He headed for the door and Eliott followed.

“Lucas, are you sure you’re okay?” Eliott asked as Lucas stepped into the hall.

“Yeah, yeah fine. It’s just been a while since I was high,” Lucas lied. Well, not a total lie, but that wasn’t what was causing his sudden urge to bolt. “Been a while, you know?” Eliott nodded.

“I hope you feel better,” Eliott said, placing his hand on Lucas’ shoulder.

As much as Lucas didn’t want to feel the sparks and the butterflies, he did. Lucas smiled and waved before heading down the stairs.

Lucas reached the bottom of the stairs and waited for Uber to arrive. He hugged himself to keep himself warm from the cold breeze that was blowing. How could he be so stupid? Falling for a boy who is out of his league and is straight. He felt like a fool.

The Uber pulled up, rolling down her windows and greeting Lucas. Lucas was about to enter the car when he heard running footsteps and a voice.

“Wait!”

It was Eliott. What could he possibly want out of me? Lucas thought.

“Lucas, wait,” Lucas turned to meet Eliott jogging up to him. “Let me take you out tomorrow.”

“Out? Why?” Lucas asked, gazing up at Eliott. God, that face, he would never get tired of looking at it.

“I want to get to know you,” Eliott explained. Lucas was silent, thinking if he should really continue to break his heart more. “Please, for me, for us.”

Lucas couldn’t pass this up. He might not get his forever with Eliott as lovers, but he couldn’t pass up a forever with him as friends.

“I’d love to, Eliott.”

[captain-aralias]

Creators: give a “behind the scenes” look at one of your works. This could be things that got removed or changed, the origins of ideas/details, whatever you like!

oh hey - it’s trivia tuesday already (i guess it’s been a long two days back at work this week). i know everyone is still working their way through the remixes that are finished and posted - and i say, do this! some cracking stuff. i’m over half way through now, and i want to write up some thoughts about how these 26 stories approached remix - because it’s super inventive. i think people benefited from not being familiar with the format.

but i also wanted to share my thinking around why i picked the fic to remix that i did - and what else i was considering from @bazzybelle‘s ficlist, because i think the thought process around remix is interesting. AND i wanted to show you the 500 words i wrote almost immediately of a completely different remix that i definitely won’t finish. it would have been... a publishing AU, fake relationship with too-early-in-the-relationship sex. all good things in a fic, right?

so - read on for deleted scenes, and discussion of thought process. and don’t read on, if that’s not your jam. 

(in general remember - i’m keen to leave stuff in the original that’s good, rather than just thieve everything. so that’s my thought process here.) 

first idea: 

I Just Want Your Extra Time And Your .....

(texting, sex chat). i already really liked this fic, and i have IRL experience of working in publishing (which you’ll see to some extent in the fic - i worked very near people who worked on celebrity cookbooks, which is what baz works on in the fic) (the launch party is not revealed to be at the groucho club in the bit i wrote, but would have been - and i’ve been there/i know soho, so ... that was all appealing)

my idea was: the original is a text fic, mine isn’t, although they still only know each other through the sex chat set-up. so instead of simon and baz having text-sex (as in the fic), baz asks simon [who he's never met] to come and be his fake date at a publishing launch party where he sees lamb, his former boyfriend. 

the trigger for simon and baz progressing with their relationship/having sex (Because they were going to have sex but IRL) would be the same - baz seeing lamb and freaking out. and some of the texts would be literally copied and pasted in my fic as backstory. 

here were my original notes:

in the original fic there's a bit where baz sees lamb, his ex boyfriend, and then is like - hey, simon distract me and they have phone sex

my fic will essentially start there - baz is at a launch party for one of his books, lamb is there - dating the author. it is awful. baz wants to leave, but can't. also, it's time for the text slot with simon - he goes and hides in a cloakroom

and is texting simon, it's terrible - i am so drunk and it's still terrible. and i think simon offers (rather than baz asks) to come and pretend to be his boyfriend

for some sort of plausible denial reason like baz will text him a lot over hte next few days so he'll get a lot of extra money or some shit, but also because simon thinks lamb is a dick even through teh messages

simon shows up - they both drink a lot. they like each other, simon punches lamb (probably). baz asks if he can take simon to a restaurant, they talk more - they kiss. they go back to a hotel together. they discuss whether or not this means that simon is a prostitute (no). they have sex IRL

baz wakes up - and leaves immediately, obviously.

they text again the next day - it's awkward. simon thinks about how he could track baz down if he wanted to - but he feels like baz doesn't want him to, so he doesn't

simon gets out of his horrible job - baz probably tries to get in touch with him, but can't because he's gone. simon gets a message from baz ....... this is still to be determined

anyway - i will probably steal the meet cute in the elevator, it's nice.

why i stopped writing it: 

i knew it was going to take ages to write - i didn’t have the time or brainspace to write 20k of fic. i’d assumed going in that i could lean on the original fic to provide the meetcute, but realised that since it was an AU, i still needed to sell the relationship - particularly given that they were meeting in real life for the first time in my fic. 

also, it would have been my first mundane AU for the fandom, and my first thing where they weren’t enemies first. (so i was trying to think about how i could get them not to like each other a bit WHILE STILL doing fake dating - and it was throwing me off). it was all just too much.

everything i’ve written is pasted for you at the bottom.

other ideas: 

a month passed. i didn’t write any more on my original remix, but went back to greener grass instead. i sent out the month warning email to remixees and thought - i am not going to finish this fic. 

so, i went back to the list of bazzybelle’s fic and thought what can i write that i can definitely write in a month? 

1. You're F***in' Perfect to Me - daphne POV

i thought, i could write this from malcolm's POV.  in the fic daphne talks a lot about how she and malcolm are just friends, rather than true love, and it's baz she has real (motherly) feelings for, not malcolm. so i thought i could write 'the courtship of mrs grimm' where malcolm gets a wake-up call from this argument, and thinks, i actually do love daphne but she likes my son more than me. he's been hiding behind not wanting to sully natasha's memory, etc, etc. fiona would probably be in it. 

2. bat baz

i also had a bit of a naff idea where instead of baz turning into a bat, in bat baz, he would turn into bat man... 

(interestingly one of the remixes was about baz turning into a cat) 

3. If I Fell In Love With You - which i eventually chose

i took the dancing and the music, the set up, and the theme of communication - also some dialogue. pushed some of the focus onto baz’s relationship with niall, pushed the action back in time towards wayward son, added a truth spell (based on a spell in the original) to force communication.

i think this is one of the most interesting remixes i’ve ever done, btw. i’m really pleased with my take on it. 

i chose this to remix because i thought - it’s only a few scenes, rather than a whole get-together arc, and it felt achievable in the timespan. i also had a strong idea about what i could do that was different - the relationship with niall and the spell, and what i would leave for people to discover in the original (simon’s POV - including the warmth he feels when baz cooks for him, the two of the resolving the initial fight when simon comes home in a bad mood). 

the title is a combination of - another line from ‘if i fell’ but one that is about not talking to each other/not putting yourself out there... and ‘where words fail’ - which is the spell i used, and also picks up on what baz says to niall - that telling simon wasn’t enough. even if he’d had the right words, they wouldn’t have been believable. but - through the music/magic, they were able to communicate. 

i also considered using a line from ‘into my arms’ instead (I believe in some kind of path), since that was the song that the magic is cast on - but it didn’t work as well thematically. 

here’s the fic i wrote: Don’t Run and Hide (The ‘Where Words Fail’ Remix’)

and here’s the remix i didn’t write. i think i almost wanted to finish it just for the elvis gag. alas, alas.

I Just Want your Extra Time: remix, not written

BAZ

I don’t smoke as much as my father thinks I do. And I don’t drink – not usually. This evening, though, I’ve already had several glasses of champagne and I’m on my fourth cigarette, the second this smoke break. Because it’s that or go back inside. And I definitely don’t want to go back inside.

I should have known he’d be here.

Not that he was invited. Not that he’s on the guest list. Not that there’s any reason at all, in fact, for him to be here, except that my life is an absolute disaster. Today definitely not an exception.

If anything, it’s worse than usual. I thought I’d already hit bottom when Dev told me I had to ring our printers – in China – and get them to promise to ship one of our new titles three weeks early, as some idiot had sent the press release out with the wrong date. That was excruciating, but things seemed to be improving.

It’s a launch party night. I’m not sure why, but I always look forward to them, even though I hate crowds. (Niall would probably say, other people in general. And he wouldn’t be far wrong.)

But I get to wear a suit. (Tonight’s is Spencer Hart. Dark grey. Green tie.) And I know Snow is going to text after the first hour. And even though no one ever remembers to thank the editor – not unprompted, anyway – I do enjoy the satisfaction of knowing that I’m responsible for turning whatever dross we’ve been told to sell into something that could loosely be called a book.

This one is a cookbook by an actor (not a chef, in other words. I had to hire someone else to write the recipes and then we just photographed him next to the result.) It should be a triumph. It is – we’ve already sold several thousand copies. I should be enjoying myself. But then I heard a voice next to my ear.

“Baz.” And someone put a hand on my waist. “Don’t you look rosy?”

Not someone. Lambert. (I never called him Francois, even when we were intimate.) As irritatingly handsome as ever. And just as confident I’ll do whatever he wants.

I haven’t seen him for months. Not since he left me Las Vegas to go off with one of the better-looking Elvis impersonators. (And if that isn’t the most humiliating break-up story you’ve ever heard, then I really don’t want to know what is. Dumped. And for Elvis.) (Not even the real Elvis - not that it makes a difference.)

“I hoped I’d see you here,” he – Lambert – told me. “It’s been far too long.”

“Since you left me.”

He gave me a hurt look. “Baz. We said Auf Wiedersehen, not goodbye.”

“Who are you really here with?”

The author, of course. I watched their eyes meet across the room and Lambert smiling, before he told me it wasn’t serious. And that he’d be interested in taking me to dinner.

“Unless you’re seeing someone?”

I raised an eyebrow – even though I know Lambert knows I only do that when I can’t think of anything to say. Which means he probably knows the truth, which is that there isn’t anyone else. Not anyone else real, anyway.  

Which reminds me …

I check my watch – it’s later than I thought.

[snow-pitch-grimm]

Neat

Summary:   "And then I said 'neat'! Neat! Nobody says neat anymore!"

                                                                                                   - Baz to Dev

I don’t think this counts as a vine meme reference per se but this scenario wouldn’t leave my head so you guys get to read it.

XXX

BAZ

This is the fifth time Simon had sighed out loud, and it's getting a bit on my nerves. I think he's trying to study for something, but it doesn't seem like he's getting anywhere.

When he had first sat down, I had been glad for the opportunity to stare at him without him noticing.

(Is it creepy? Yes. Do I care? No)

So I had picked up a book, placed myself on my bed, so I had the perfect view of Simon's freckle filled face. The sun was shining a little through the window, causing him to look like an angel bathed in light. His blue eyes looked bluer than usual, and his bronze curls kept falling in his hair.

God, I wanted to run my hand through his curls.

However, the reverie had broken when he had tilted his head back and sighed loudly. And then he had done it again. And again. And again.

When he sighs for the sixth time, I get up from my bed and sit up on my desk, leaning in close to him.

"What wrong with you, Snow?"

He glares up at me.

"What do you want, Baz?"

"Just wondering what's gotten you knickers in a twist. All this huffing of yours is distracting me from my reading,"

He snorts, "Well, sorry your Majesty,"

I raise my eyebrows at him.

He sighs again but answers my question, "The maths test tomorrow. I'm going to fail it. I don't understand anything,"

I frown, "Isn't that the one thing you're usually good at?"

"Well, yeah," he says sighing again, "But apparently not this time,"

I take a long look at him, his drooping shoulders, sad eyes and pouty lips and come to a decision.

"I can't believe I'm even considering this," I say, "But if you want, I can help you study,"

He looks like me as if I've gone insane. Maybe I have. Must be those blue eyes.

"Seriously? You don't even like me,"

Oh, Snow. If you only knew.

"As I said, your sighing is bothering me. Do you want my help or not?"

Simon tilts his head, and it's a testament to how much I'm obsessed with him that I know exactly what he's thinking.

He's considering the costs and benefits of taking my help. At one hand, I might hold this over him (I won't, but he thinks I would). On the other hand, he's here on scholarship and can't risk even a minor slip up. The consideration takes about twenty seconds, and he decides...

"Fine. You can help. But only because I really need it. I still think you're a posh asshole,"

A part of me is thrilled. Another part of me stings. I ignore both and tell Simon to show me what's wrong.

It takes a couple of hours and some extensive groaning from Snow, but in the end, he seems to understand most of the concepts, and if the practice-test I gave him is anything to go by, he'll get a pretty good grade too.

When I show him the practice-test grade, he instantly lights up and grins at me. (Be still my heart)

"Oh my god! Thank you so much, Baz. God, I'm so happy I could kiss you!"

I'm so shocked that I can only laugh and squeak out, "Neat,"

Then I grab my shoes, make an excuse and book it out of there.

xxx

"And then I said 'neat'! Neat! Nobody says neat anymore!"

My cousin looked up from his notes and grinned at me, "Aw come on, Baz, don't beat yourself up. Remember what I said when Niall told me he fancied me?

I think back to a year ago and grin, "Didn't you thank him?"

Dev sighs dramatically and looks at the ceiling, "I thanked him,"

"We're disasters aren't we, Dev?"

Dev looks at me, and we stare at each other for a few moments before bursting into giggles.

"Do you think he'll bring it up?" I ask him once we've calmed down a little.

"Dunno, Baz," says Dev, grin still on his face, "You're the one who's obsessed with him,"

I lightly smack his shoulder, "Speaking of, Where's your other half?"

"Oh, Niall? His dad's in town for something and took him after class. He would have told you, but his dad surprised him,"

"Good for him, he seemed to be getting a little more homesick,"

The rest of us got homesick too sometimes, but Dev and I had each other and could talk about past holidays and annoying aunts whenever we felt a little off. Poor Niall didn't have that and was also a lot more sensitive.

"Also, knowing Snow, he probably didn't even notice,"

"Well, he's an idiot, but he definitely noticed me running out like the hounds of hell were after me, so what do I do? He's going to think it's his fault. I either tell him I'm obsessed with him or he thinks I'm the sort of bloke with fragile masculinity that can't take a joke about kissing,"

Dev snorts, "Baz, the way you dress, no one thinks that you have fragile masculinity,"

Hmm, I did wear a lot of pink flower patterns.

"Also, just tell him you were surprised and then insult him a few times to distract him. It should work,"

"You think so?"

Dev puts his arm around my shoulders and smiles at me, "Would I lie to you, cousin dearest,"

I sigh and put my head on Dev's shoulder, "What would I do without you?"

It's a dramatic rhetorical question, so Dev doesn't answer.

Instead, he had a suggestion of his own, "Stay here tonight,"

I grin at him, "Like we did in first year?"

Dev nods and smiles, "It'll probably be a tight fit, but we can make it work,"

My cousin gives me some of his clothes to wear, and once Niall comes back, we stay up until late, talking and laughing. I almost forget about the whole Simon Snow thing.

When we finally decide to get some sleep, Dev, who's laying behind me, pokes me in the back.

"What?" I whisper

"You could tell him, you know,"

I don't answer, and he doesn't push, but it still lingers in the back of my head.

xxx

One great thing about being obsessed with your roommate is that you know his schedule pretty well. Simon has rugby practice in the morning. I get to the room after he leaves, and any class we have together, I calculate the time correctly, so I arrive after him and leave before he even has a chance to talk to me.

However, my luck runs out at the end of the day. The plan was to come earlier than Snow and pretend to be asleep. Snow, it seems, for once used his brain, and figured out my plan.

Right now, he's sitting on my bed with my book with a big smile on his face. His blue eyes are on me, and I feel like a deer caught in a headlight.

"Oh, hey, Baz," said Snow, standing up, "Lovely to see you,"

I close the door behind me and try to get everything back on track, "Why are you on my bed Snow. I thought even you were smart enough not mix up our sides,"

The remark is weak. I know it, Simon knows it, but it's all I got.

"Baz," says, Simon and he's very close now. When did he get this close?

"You've avoiding me,"

"No, I haven't," I said, "We'd have to hang out for me to avoid you,"

Snow shakes his head, "Uh uh. You've been avoiding me. Why?"

I'm about to refute again, but Simon shushes me.

"Wait, let me guess?" he says, "You ran out of here after I made the kissing joke. So at first, I thought maybe I'd offended you. But then I remembered you were gay,"

Wait. What? How did he know that?

"You came here drunk with your friends once," he says, probably answering my surprised expression

Ah. That does make sense.

"Anyway, as I was saying. You're gay. So then I thought maybe you just didn't like that I was the one making that joke. But if that were the case, you wouldn't have run away. You would have stayed and insulted me a few times,"

And here I thought I was the only one who knew my roommate well.

"So I figured maybe I was just making a big deal out of nothing. That went out the window when you started avoiding me and don't even deny it. You were avoiding me,"

I click my mouth shut. There's no point, really.

"Do you want to kiss me, Baz?" he says, and there's still a smile on his face, and I feel like crying.

I didn't know he could be so cruel.

"Yes! Yes, okay! I want to kiss you. You don't have to- you-"

Then Simon cups my face, and I nearly choke on my own words. What is going on here?

"Baz," he whispers, "Can I kiss you?"

This is a dream. This has to be a dream. There is absolutely no way this is real life. I pinch myself

Except that Simon is still cupping my face and waiting for me to answer with a patient look on my face.

So I nod my head. What do I have to lose?

Snow leans forward, his lips gently meeting mine. It's everything I imagined- no better then I had imagined.

It starts gently at first, but then his lips become a little more insistent. I don't really know what I'm doing but it feels so bloody good that I just follow his lead. His hand slips from my face to the back of my neck, and I pull hs closed by the waist. His other hand is rubbing my stomach, and I feel like I've died and gone to heaven.

Simon pulls away a little, and I whine at the loss, clamming a hand over my mouth out of embarrassment.

He laughs though and pries my hand away, giving me another short and sweet kiss.

"That was fun," he says

"Yeah,"

"Wanna do it again?"

"Definitely, Simon,"

xxx

"You called me Simon,"

"No, I didn't,"

"Did too!"

"Did not!"

xxx

"Hey, Baz,"

"Yes, Snow,"

"Will you m my boyfriend?

"God, yes!"

[angelsfalling16]

The Thin Line Between Pretending and Actually Loving You

Read on ao3

Summary: Baz needs a fake date so that Dev and Niall will stop setting him up, and who better to be that date the guy he hasn't seen since they graduated college several years ago?

Simon and Baz struggle to fool Dev and Niall, but it seems like they're great at fooling themselves. Will they be able to work through whatever this is between them before their planned "break up"? Or are they destined to be separated again?

Word Count: 1230

A/N: Once again, I have decided to write a last minute Christmas fake dating fic. At least it isn't three days before Christmas this year. The plan is for there to be 7 or 8 chapters and to post a new one every day. I'm hoping not to have to post on Christmas day this year, but at this point, I'm not sure I will actually finish by Christmas. Also, the title is not great, and I might end up changing it, but I needed something so that I could start posting.

I think a new fake dating fic every Christmas could be fun, and I really hope you all like this one!

***

Baz

I meet with Dev and Niall every Friday afternoon for coffee. It isn’t my favorite coffee shop. That one is closer to my house, and I prefer to go there alone anyway. It’s a great place to visit when I just need some time to think.

This one is closer to the center of town and it’s not as quiet and writer-filled as the other. This one is geared more towards half-asleep college students.

Glancing around, I remember when I was one of them, just a few years ago. At once, it seems like a lifetime ago and just yesterday when I was pulling an all-nighter to cram for a test or write an essay that I had failed to complete on time because I was worrying about a hundred other things. Mainly my roommate at the time.

Before my thoughts can spiral down that path, I shake myself and tune back into whatever Dev is talking about.

“We’re engaged now.”

“I know,” I say, frowning. I mean, I practically planned their entire engagement party on my own, which is in just a couple of weeks. If I had forgotten, I wouldn’t be a very good best man.

“No, I meant that we’re going to be doing a lot of married people things now, and we don’t want you to feel left out.” He’s using his carefully sincere voice, the one that means he is being careful not to say the wrong thing.

I hate when people do that. I wish that he would just say what he means. I value honesty over spared feelings.

“What the hell are ‘married people things’? Just because you have this big celebration, it doesn’t mean that you’re suddenly going to become different people and do different things.”

“We just don’t want you to feel weird since you’re still, uh, single.” Niall speaks this time, his tone even more carefully crafted than Dev’s. I have to fight not to roll my eyes at the pair of them.

“You two have been dating for years, and I’ve never felt weird around you.” Well, except that one night. But we don’t talk about that. “That isn’t going to change just because you sign a piece of paper.”

“Yes, but don’t you think you’d be happier if you had someone else in your life?”

“I don’t need a man to make me happy.”

“Yes, we know. We just think—.”

“And therein lies your problem. You two were thinking. It’s never a good sign, especially when it comes to my dating life.”

I’m kidding of course. Not about them meddling in my dating life, but about them thinking. They’re both quite intelligent. They would have to be for me to want to spend any kind of time in their presence. I have a hard time sitting for long with people who aren’t intelligent.

Dev sighs. “Why are you being so difficult?”

“Why are you pushing this so hard?”

“Well…” Niall says quietly, no longer able to meet my eyes. That is never a good sign.

“Niall, what did you do?”

“We got you a date for our engagement party.”

“You what?” I just barely manage not to shout, but still, a few heads turn in our direction.

I glare at them until they look away before turning my attention back to Niall.

“He’s a friend of mine,” he says. “He’s a really nice guy, smart. And I think you’ll like him.”

I glare at the two of them. They know that I hate when they set me up. Every blind date that they have ever set me up on has always gone horribly, horribly wrong. One nearly ended in someone’s death and the burning down of one my least favorite restaurants.

Some may say I’m picky about guys, but I prefer to say that I have a very specific type. And that type boils down to one person. One person who Dev and Niall know almost nothing about.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” I tell them, my tone only a little threatening.

“We know you didn’t want us to do this again, but we think he’d be a great fit for you.”

“No. I mean, you shouldn’t have gotten that guy’s hopes up. Because I’m already seeing someone.”

“You’re kidding, right? For how long?” Of course, Dev doesn’t believe me.

“Almost a month. And no, I’m not kidding. I’ve known this guy for a while, and it feels pretty serious. Like we should have started dating a long time ago. I’m just glad we finally found our way to each other.”

I’m laying it on a little thick, but it is best to ensure that Dev and Niall know that I am being serious.

“I suppose I’ll have to call my friend back,” Niall says.

“Yes, you will. I’m quite happy with the person I’m dating.”

“Tell us more about him, won’t you?” Dev asks, resting his elbow on the table and setting his chin in his hand. He is obviously feigning interest, looking for a way to figure out whether I am lying. “Why have you been keeping him a secret? Is it someone we know?”

“It is not someone you know. Not well, anyway. And we wanted to keep our relationship a secret until we figured out whether it was serious.”

“And is it? Serious?”

“I’m not really sure yet. It’s still new.”

“Fine. Bring him to the engagement party, and we’ll tell Niall’s friend that you’re taken.”

“Alright. I’ll see if he can make it.”

It might be too soon to invite a new boyfriend to an engagement party that isn’t until after the new year, so maybe I will manage to find a way out of this. I would much rather go alone to the party.

At that, I stand up, drinking the last of my coffee, which has grown cold now. I bid them a good afternoon before turning away, hoping to avoid any more questions about the mysterious boy.

On my way to the door, I hear Dev say, “I wouldn’t call him back quite yet. I want to make sure this boyfriend of his is real.”

Later that day, I’m not surprised when I receive a text from Dev:

Niall and I want to meet your new beau. Can’t have a complete stranger at our engagement party. Dinner on Friday? 5 o’clock?

He states it as a question, but I know that I don’t really have a choice. They aren’t going to leave this alone until they meet my new boyfriend. I quickly type out a reply.

Sounds good, I reply.

But it is not good at all. I am not really seeing anyone. I had to make that up to get out of another blind date.

But now, I have to come up with a boyfriend fast before I am forced to go on a date with some total stranger.

Sighing, I set my phone beside me on my couch, trying to think of someone who would be willing to pretend to be my boyfriend. It would have to be someone who Dev and Niall don’t know. Otherwise, they would know instantly that it is not real.

One person keeps coming to mind. One person who I absolutely cannot call.

Of course, that is the only person I would want to show up as my boyfriend, fake or not.

[pynkhues]

I love Brio as I’m sure many people do what do you think about people saying they’re are a toxic pairing. Do you think their attraction to eachother seems further than sexual attraction? Would you say Dean and Beth are just as toxic? Do you think Brio can work out in season 3?

I mean, yeah, anon, they’re totally toxic. 

They’re also fictional.

It’s interesting, y’know, because I graduated from a bachelor in literature studies about eight years ago now, which isn’t that long ago (although probably is for some of you guys, haha), but the main canon we studied were classic texts like Wuthering Heights, Jane Eyre, Madame Bovary, Anna Karenina, Gone with the Wind, (and some Australian texts everyone should read, namely Prelude to Christopher and, of course, My Brilliant Career), where toxic relationships are kind of the name of the game. 

I think we’re in a really interesting cultural moment where we’re being forced to interrogate that, which is exciting and healthy and good, but I also think that in the frenzy of that right now, sometimes people assume that representing a certain type of relationship in fiction is an endorsement of that relationship, which is usually not the case. Look at Romeo and Juliet, right? Complete disaster babies! Would any of us recommend those kids get together in real life? No! Does that make the play or Baz Luhrmann’s excellent adaptation any less compelling? Also no! We love to watch this stuff!

In terms of Beth and Rio, they are destructive, and unnecessarily cruel to one another, and completely fail to communicate on every level. Their attraction is sexual too, absolutely, but it goes way beyond sexual too. The show has devoted too much energy to showing us the ways that they are more similar than they aren’t to pretend it’s just sexual, and look, I hate to beat a dead horse, but I think S2 did two big things that proved that their connection ran deeper than sex, and 1) was the introduction of Marcus, and 2) was the dubby. Narratively, Marcus is an immovable point now. He is, I think, simultaneously a tether to the Rio she loves the most, and a stone in her shoe when it comes to the Rio she likes the least (that stone inevitably now reminding her of the former). We saw the first in the scenes of them at the park, and the latter in 2.08 when she reminded him of Marcus when he was pulling on his violent gangleader hat.

As for the dubby, I feel like I’ve talked about it enough, haha, but you can always check my 2.07 tag if you want more.

These two are fucked up, and damaged, and playing a game they both simultaneously want to win and don’t want to play at all, and if I knew any real people in a relationship like that, I’d be telling them to clear out. But for fictional characters? Man, do I love it. 

In a lot of ways, I almost think Beth and Dean are a worse sort of toxic purely because they’re more normalised, and it’s a toxicity that is so much more  - - and honestly, I struggle with the phrasing here a bit, but I guess what I mean is socially acceptible toxcity? Dean’s a gaslighter, and I know there was a bit of controversy over certain people using this term in earlier fandom days, but frankly Dean’s cancer lie and his ongoing manipulation of Beth is emotional abuse. He’s constantly finding ways to dig the knife in to get her to be the woman he wants her to be, and it makes for really rough viewing, because I think we all know people (namely women, but not only) in relationships like that. 

And I guess that’s where the difference comes in for me. Putting Manny and Christina’s frankly obscene chemistry aside for a hot second, I think a big part of the attraction of Beth and Rio as a parirng is the fact that for all the toxic elements of them as a couple, Rio has never actually treated her as inconsequential, or - and this is a big word to use in this context, but after re-watching the show, honestly I stand by it - subhuman in the way that Dean has treated her. Rio and Beth respect each other, and they see each other, y’know? And while they are toxic - especially now - there’s a sort of consensual, respectful toxicity there that feels pretty unique, honestly. 

And I know it’s a controversial opinion these days, but I actually do think they can work it out. Her shooting him is definitely something that will need to be addressed, and as an isolated incident it’s devastating, but in the context of the show? He has threatened her, almost killed her, shot and almost killed her husband, almost framed her for a lot of crimes, tried to get her to kill an FBI agent, and of course she isn’t innocent herself by any stretch of the imagination - she’s robbed him, gotten him arrested, lied to him repeatedly, dumped him pretty brutally, and then shot him. I can’t really see anything being a final nail in the coffin for them at this point.

So yeah, anon, they’re toxic, but man if I don’t love them, haha.

[salmonthestoryteller]

Anything For You

Animal Kingdom Fanfic (Post s04e07)

Adrian took a deep breath as he let himself into Smurf's house.  Deran hadn't been happy about this part of the plan, not that he was, but in the end they needed to cover up their actions somehow. Pope knew he'd gone to his sister's and Deran had tried to claim he had an affair. No way any of that seemed normal.

"Adrian? Is that you?" He hadn't made it far when an unexpected voice called out.

Adrian stared at the woman who'd come out of the house in confusion. "Angela?"

"Well, look at you all grown up." Angela smiled, coming forward to embrace him.

Adrian knew his return hug was stiff, but he was still reeling from the sight of Julia's old friend. Deran and him clearly still needed to communicate better. "This is a surprise. What are you doing at Smurf's place?"

"Pope's letting me stay here for a bit."

"That's nice of him."

"What about you? Craig and Deran don't live here anymore and I didn't hear about a party."

"I actually wanted to talk to Pope about something. Do you know where he is?"

"Probably his room or the workshop. What gives? Everything okay?" She latched onto his arm as he moved toward the house.

"It's kind of personal."

"And your choice of who to tell your troubles to is Pope? I would think Deran-"

"It's about Deran."

"What about him?"

"Nothing I want to tell you." Adrian gave up on being polite as they made it inside.

"No need to be rude. I was just trying to be a friendly ear."

"Yeah, I remember how that went with you.  How the wrong person always seemed to find out the stuff you were a friendly ear for."

"Jesus, is this still about that summer?" Angela crossed her arms. "I would think holding onto teenage grudges was Deran's thing not yours."

Adrian ignored the comment. "Do I need your permission to see Pope or something?"

"No. Of course not."

"Great." He moved further into the house. The conversation with Angela hadn't helped make him less nervous.  The door was open and he could see Pope sitting on his bed inside, still as a rock.  He knocked anyway.

"What?" He didn't even glance his way.

"Is this a bad time?" Adrian asked.

Pope turned then, confused. "Adrian? Why are you here? Did something happen to Deran?"

He rose to his feet, coming around the bed and Adrian fought down the instinct to step back. "No, I just…" He glanced back, feeling very aware of Angela's presence in the rooms behind them. "Well, actually, I don't know."

"What do you mean you don't know? You still staying at your sister's?"

"No, no. Deran came and we worked things out.  Kind of." When Pope said nothing, only looked at him expectantly, Adrian forced himself to keep going. He moved farther into the room as he began to talk. "Look, that night - the night before I went to my sister's - Deran didn't get home until really late and..."

Pope held up a hand, and Adrian instantly trailed off. When he stepped around him to shut the door, he felt himself break into a sweat. "What about that night?" There was something dark in his tone.

"Deran seemed upset like… I don't even know." That was the truth. He still wasn't sure what had upset Deran that night. All Deran had said was tying everything into that night would make this easier.

Pope glanced away, his body tensed before he looked back at him. "What are you asking?"

"I tried to get him to tell me what was wrong, but he wouldn't budge. Then he spat out this bullshit about an affair."

Pope relaxed. "An affair? That dumbass. Wait, did you actually believe him?"

"No. Yes. I don't know." He turned away to run his hand through his hair, before turning back.  "He left after that and he wouldn't pick up my calls and suddenly I remembered this thing Craig had said-"

"Craig? You're taking relationship advice from Craig? Jesus, you've had a front row seat to his track record." Pope no longer seemed tense, though he was looking at him like he was an idiot. Technically that was the plan, but Adrian found himself crossing his arms over his chest defensively anyhow.

"I just talked myself into going to Jess. That maybe we both needed space. Deran showed up, though, and he said he'd just been mad at my pushing. Said he'd lied about having an affair. He was lying about that, right?"

"Of course he lied about having an affair. You two are living together now - he's not going to screw that up."

Adrian forced his shoulders to lower, and dropped his arms back to his side. As if he'd really been concerned about it. "So why-"

"Look, Adrian, you've been around our family your whole life. Rented from Smurf. And you've been with Deran for a while. You're not stupid." Pope's hand came to rest where his shoulder met his neck and Adrian tried and failed to not tense up. "You should know better than to push Deran for answers he doesn't want to give you." He squeezed slightly, and Adrian couldn't help but swallow nervously.

"I've never seen him like I saw him that night." Those words weren't part of the plan, but they slipped out anyhow. They weren't a lie, either. Deran had been so quiet. There had been such pain in his eyes, even as he told him he loved him...

Pope glanced away, a shadow falling over his face. "Yeah, I know." He turned back to him. "Look, he's going through some shit right now.  The last thing he needs is any added stress. So don't fight with him, okay?"

Adrian felt himself nodding, even as the words piled onto the guilt he felt. He was definitely adding to the stress Deran was under. "Okay."

Pope gave his shoulder and neck a squeeze again, before backing away to open the door. Adrian took the hint and headed out of the room, only to be drawn up short by Pope's voice. "Hey, Adrian - has Colby been coming around lately? Bothering Deran?"

"Colby?" Adrian frowned, confused but not worried. If he'd asked about Jack or Ox he would have thought he knew something. But Colby wasn't involved with the drug bust, nor was it him who had been found dead in Mexico and that Pearce was trying to connect to Deran. "I know he dropped by the house a few weeks ago. He and Deran were talking outside, but he didn't stick around."

"Did it look like they were arguing?"

"Things seemed kinda tense, now that you mention it. I offered Colby to come in but Deran kinda shut it down."

Pope nodded as if that was the answer he expected. "Thanks."

"Sure." Confused, but not pushing his luck, Adrian headed for the front gate. Angela was nowhere to be seen, apparently having made herself scarce. At least he didn't have to deal with her twice. He'd thought he would feel relieved this part was over, and seemed to have gone well. He didn't, though. Reassuring Pope nothing was going on was just the start of things. So much could still go wrong.

As if to underline the thought, the front gate opened just as he got there and Smurf entered. The universe hated him, he decided. There was no other explanation.

"Adrian. My son here?"

"Deran isn't here, no. I just… had something to talk to Pope about."

"Really." Smurf studied him. "With Pope?"

Fuck. This wasn't in the plan, but he had to stick to the story. "Deran and I had a fight and I just… I thought Pope might be able to give me some insight."

"You asked Pope for relationship advice?" Smurf sounded doubtful.

"Better than Craig, right?" Adrian offered her.  Smurf returned his words with a smile that sat somewhere between annoyed and amused. "It was less relationship advice and more… Cody advice."

"Well, you always could have come to me. Nobody knows my boys better than I do."

"Maybe I'll do that next time." He offered her, and promptly promised himself to never take her up on that particular offer.

"You know, I never would have expected Deran of being the one to settle down first." Smurf mentioned.

"Settle down?" He repeated.

"Well, that's what it looks like.  His own business, his own house. You two living together. I saw your laundry basket. You even do laundry together."

"I guess I really didn't think about it in quite those terms." He'd been too busy feeling an unevenness in their relationship. Even before he'd messed things up by letting Jack turn his head with his talk of simple runs and easy money. His own money, not Deran's.

"You know, the only other one of my boys to ever settle down was Baz." Smurf latched onto his arm, and he wondered why everyone was in such a damn touchy mood today. Was it something in the water? "Cath was always so moody though. Never really seemed to want to be part of the family. Only ever came to the parties if Baz demanded it."

"Well, I've always loved your parties." Adrian felt uncomfortable with this sudden turn of conversation.

"That's right, you did. Used to always come hang out with Deran and Craig. Even when Deran dropped out of school, and then the tour. You never stopped hanging out. Aways so inseparable. Maybe I should have suspected it, really. I mean, Cath was always following Pope and Baz around. Just like you were following Craig and Deran. Looks like in the end, though, you turned out to be far more dedicated."

"I'm not sure I'm really following you."

"You and I should hang out sometime, when the boys are working. Just the two of us."

"Yeah, sure." Deran was going to freak out about that particular promise, but Adrian was pretty sure he wasn't escaping this conversation without giving it.

"You really do love my son, don't you?" Smurf asked next.

Adrian found himself unable to reply. Just like he had when Pearce had thrown it out there, as well.  He hadn't even found the courage to say the words to Deran yet. He'd really appreciate it if other people stopped saying it to him like the words were tattooed on his forehead.

Smurf ignored his lack of reply, and leaned closer. "Would you do anything for my son, Adrian?"

"Of course I would." He replied instantly. Despite it being the complete truth, or maybe because it was, the smile Smurf gave him chilled him to the bone.

She rested a hand on his cheek, and leaned in. "That was the right answer." She told him.  Then she let him go, and sauntered off to the house.

Even later, as he pulled into Deran and his house, he wasn't certain whether her reply had been an approval or a warning.

FIni

Because I live for random character interactions.

I totally believe Angela is the snitch, especially after last episode. Plus, nobody seems to actually like her (except Pope).  So I’m thinking that says a lot about her.  And, technically, Smurf hasn’t been wrong about who is dangerous to have around.  Yes, there’s usually a grudge involved that is at least 50% her fault, but she’s still usually right.

I actually like Pope a lot, and his plot this season makes me sad.  I mean, that’s pretty much par for the course with his plotlines, but still.

[chuffyfan87]

Hiding. Part 1a.

AU Chuffy fic set around series 13/14. Co-written with @disastrousintention

-x-

Duffy entered Charlie's office, he was bent over by his desk with his back towards the door. "What on earth have you got there?"

Charlie looked up and attempted to hide what was in his hands. “Nothing, and anyway, haven’t you heard of knocking?”

"Its practically my office too!" She shrugged with a giggle.

“Only when it’s convenient for you.”

"Its not like you to be so territorial. What you trying to hide?"

“Nothing, I’m not trying to hide anything.” He smiled.

"Did anyone ever tell you you're a bad liar Mr Fairhead?" She smirked.

“Once or twice.”

"So come on, spill!"

“You’re so nosey!”

"I prefer inquisitive." She teased.

He rolled his eyes playfully. “If you /really/ want to know what I’m hiding, you might have to come over here and get it...” He smirked.

"Oh you want to play it like that do you? Well maybe I'm not that interested." She commented dismissively.

“You’re not as nosey as I thought you were.”

She pouted and folded her arms across her chest.

He watched her. That pout had the ability to make him hot under the collar. However, it wasn’t the pout he was distracted by but her breasts...

Noticing the direction Charlie's gaze had taken Duffy rolled her eyes. He was so predictable! She tilted her head downwards to level a glare at him.

“What?” He shrugged, “I’m just admiring the view.”

"I might let you take a closer look if you show me what you were hiding when I walked in." She suggested with a wink.

“Like I said, if you want to know. You’ll have to come over here.” He repeated.

Duffy scowled, realising she probably wasn't going to win this round. She slowly walked over and sat on the desk, her skirt hitching up her thighs as she crossed her legs.

He quickly got distracted again, this time by the way her skirt rose up her thighs. He always had a one track mind where Duffy was concerned.

Duffy grinned triumphantly, watching Charlie's face as she slowly, casually, recrossed her legs.

“You’re naughty.” He whispered as he snapped out of his trance and looked at Duffy.

"I'm not the one hiding things." She countered.

“Fine, help yourself.” He gestured towards the top drawer.

Her eyebrow rose in surprise. That was too easy... She lent over and reached out towards the handle.

He was too busy watching the view to stop her.

She slowly slid the drawer open. At first she saw nothing of note but then she caught sight of something peaking out from under the numerous files and other paperwork.

“Found anything?” He asked.

Moving the files Duffy uncovered a box. It was about six inches long by a little over an inch wide. She began to feel a little uncomfortable, it had all been a bit of fun but now she was unsure.

He watched her again, trying to read her body language. His eyes roamed over her figure again. She was gorgeous!

She bit her lip, unsure whether to remove the box from the drawer. He was a married man afterall, what if the gift she'd stumbled upon was for his wife?

“You didn’t answer my question.” He asked as he placed his hand on her thigh.

"What question?" She asked, distracted by the way his fingers were lightly grazing against the skin of her inner thigh.

He continued to stroke her thigh. “About you finding anything?”

"Well, there's this." She picked up the box. "But..."

“But?” He echoed.

"Am I the one that's supposed to be looking at the this?" She whispered.

“Who else do you think it’s for?” He asked, his hand moving further up her thigh.

"Its not usually the done thing to buy such elaborate looking gifts for a friend."

“We both know you’re more than a friend.” He whispered back and removed his hand from her thigh.

"What exactly is the occasion anyway?" She asked, attempting to change the direction of the conversation as the room had begun to get very warm.

“Does there need to be one?” He asked.

"Usually yes."

Charlie shrugged, “Maybe I just wanted to buy you a present.” He admitted shyly.

She ran her fingers over the box. This was dangerous territory, they both knew that, but she couldn't help the thrill that ran through her.

He placed his hand back on her thigh, “I wanted to see you... tonight?” He asked.

"Do I have to wait til then to open the present?"

“No. You can open now if you like.”

She slowly opened the box and gasped. "I... I can't..." She stammered.

It was a beautiful silver necklace. “Yes you can.” He encouraged.

"What if someone asks where I got it from?" Though she didn't mention a name, they both knew who she meant.

“Would he even notice?” He asked.

She sighed sadly. Despite everything, that comment stung deep.

Charlie sighed, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that...” He had but at the same time, he hadn’t meant to hurt her.

"I know you didn't. It just makes me think about how much of a mess everything is."

“It’s complicated.” He admitted.

"When exactly did our lives get so complicated? I swear they weren't always this way." She sighed.

“No they weren’t.” He paused, “I guess when feelings developed?” He shrugged.

"That long ago?"

“No. I mean,” He sighed, “I fell in love with you, not that long ago.”

"Is that what this is about?" She asked as she continued to absentmindedly play with the necklace between her fingers.

He watched her and moved his hand to his lap. He rubbed the back of his neck. This was becoming a bit too deep.

"Is that why you want me to have this? To mark me out as secretly yours?" She winced as the words left her lips. She hadn't meant them to sound so accusing.

He shrugged, “Maybe I’m tired of everything being a secret.”

"We both know why it has to be a secret."

He shrugged again.

"The damage it would cause..." She remarked darkly.

“Secrets don’t stay secrets forever.” He answered back.

"No they don't." She agreed, her fingers twitching again.

“I love you. I can’t help that. Believe me, I’ve tried Duffy.”

"We've both tried and failed." She agreed. "Every time I convince myself never again but you always seem to lure me back in."

He smiled, “And you seem to do the same to me, too.” He placed his hand over the top of hers and ran his thumb over the back of her hand, “Can I see you for dinner tonight?”

She toyed with saying no but knew that was futile. "OK. But you know this is bound to end in tears sooner or later."

“You’re right.” He conceded sadly.

"Maybe sooner than you think." She mumbled.

He moved his hand to her cheek. “Sometimes I wish I could just walk away from you.” He admitted.

"You probably should but please promise me you won't." A look of panic briefly passed through her eyes.

“Never.” He met her eye, “I’ll never walk away from you.”

"I'm glad coz I don't think I can do this alone again."

“Do what alone?” He frowned, confused at what she was saying.

"Deal with the consequences of the fact that neither of us was able to walk away."

“I wouldn’t leave you to face the consequences alone.”

"That's novel." Bitterness coursed through her words.

He smiled sadly before he lent forward and kissed her cheek.

"I'm not sure I can face booking the appointment."

“Booking what appointment?” What was she going on about? “I thought you said, you weren’t hiding anything?”

"I lied." She admitted "But that's what you want me to do right?"

He frowned, “Duffy I have no clue what you’re on about?”

"That's what Baz did. I thought you'd want me to do the same."

It took a couple of minutes for it to register in Charlie’s mind but as soon as it did, it knocked him for six. “Shit. You’re pregnant?”

"I thought you'd figured it out somehow and that's why you'd bought me this." She replied, gesturing to the necklace that still lay in her hands.

“No. I had no idea.” He replied. “How... how far gone are you?”

"A couple of months I think. I'm not sure for certain."

He was silent for a few minutes. “You’ve not had a scan yet?”

"No. That would make it all too real."

He nodded. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

"Because if I did then we'd have to deal with it."

“Of course we would but we’d find a way of dealing with it.”

"Is this where you suggest we can just all play happy families together?" She questioned sarcastically.

He shrugged. “I’d figure something out, for us.”

"And what about the boys?"

“What about them?” He paused, “Your boys are part of this too.”

"I'm sure their father will be thrilled to hear that!"

Charlie rubbed the back of his neck but stayed silent. This was a really big mess.

"And let's not even start on how your son's mother will react when she finds out."

“Then what do you suggest we do?” He pressed.

"Pretend it's not happening?" She shrugged.

“I don’t think I can do that.”

"Maybe I shouldn't have told you."

“So you would’ve hid it from me?” He was shocked at the thought.

"I considered trying to but, well, I figured you would have noticed sooner or later."

“I need to ask you. Do you want to keep it?”

She looked down, she couldn't meet his gaze. She nodded silently.

He placed his fingers under her chin and lifted her head to meet her gaze. “Then you have my support.”

"I'm gunna need it when my husband throws me out."

“You’re not going to be on your own.”

"No I'll have my two sons with me too."

“And if he decides to throw you out, I’ll find you somewhere to live.”

"You honestly think he won't? How would you feel if it was Baz?"

“I’d go bloody ballistic.” He admitted.

"Exactly. He'll be phoning his lawyer before I've even finished packing my bags."

“He wouldn’t think it’s his, would he?” He had to ask, had to be sure.

[numptypitch]

Princess diaries 2 AU

So I watched princess diaries 2 and I thought of what a snowbaz fanfic with a similar plot to this would be like and I really like the idea of it. But again, idk how to flesh it out into a multi chapter several thousand word fanfic, so I’m posting my idea in hopes of someone with better writing skills and time to write it for me.

———————————————————————————————————

So the basic plot of this movie (if you don’t know it) is princess Mia is next in line to the throne, but parliament says she can not take the thrown without a husband because of some ancient law they have.

So this stuck up guy (is secretly plotting for his nephew to take over the throne) convinces parliament to stick to the rules and law because it creates loopholes for other things and eventually lead to chaos.

So parliament agrees on needing princess Mia to marry someone within a month or two (I don’t remember) or else the next in line will take over(aka the nephew)

So princess Mia goes through several profiles of eligible bachelors she could marry. Some are too young, some are too old,and then she finds a seemingly perfect guy.

She contacts him and the get along pretty well. But they don’t have that spark of love and both want to marry for love, but push that to the side because they have a duty to their country blah blah blah diplomacy blah blah blah

All while this is happening, the nephew is told by his uncle to romance princess Mia in order to sabotage her chances of finding a partner and marrying them. So they do. And they’re all suave about it. They dance at her homecoming ball, he (lowkey) stalks her. Gets really close to her as they talk. They get locked in a closet together (a maid finds them and rumors spread). When she’s learning archery(she’s terrible at it) he comes along and helps her. You know the typical hand over shoulder, get really close and whisper in their ear type of thing.

During her engagement party with the prince, the nephew comes along with a pretty girl and both (Mia and the nephew) try to get the other jealous. The nephew gets Mia alone and kisses her, and Mia really likes it but no, she has her duty to think of, slaps him and runs away. And Mia begins to really fall for the guy, to the point that she sneaks out on a date with him (even tho she had already agreed on marrying the prince guy).

The paparazzi finds them and the wedding is almost called off. The nephew realizes he really does have feelings for Mia. But Mia thinks this was all an elaborate plot to get her to fail and give him the throne.

It’s the wedding day and Mia can’t marry the prince. She tells him so during the actual ceremony and calls out parliament on their sexist views. Cuz a man doesn’t need a wife if he’s to take over the throne. The uncle says rules are rules. And of course the nephew barges in all dramatic and says he will not accept the throne. Princess Mia should be the queen, because she’s pure hearted, thinks of others well being and is beautiful.

Parliament agrees, the wedding is called off, and the next week Mia ascends the throne.

The nephew comes in the day before her coronation and professes his love for her. Mia runs into his arms, they kiss and live happily ever after.

*******

SO NOW THE SNOWBAZ

So this obviously would be a non-magical AU cuz I don’t see how magic fits into this but hey, if you find a way, you do you. I like variation.

Anyways

I always imagined Simon as princess Mia. And Baz as the nephew because obviously the whole movie the nephew was actually plotting against Mia. It makes sense.

BUT

So does Simon being the nephew for the simple reason that the mage could be the evil uncle. It makes sense, the only problem I have with this is that being evil and plotting is out of character for Simon. That’s why I prefer Baz as the nephew and Simon as Mia.

That being said, the seemingly perfect prince would be Agatha. Both Simon and Agatha like Mia and the prince seem perfect together but they just don’t work together in the romantic sense despite their best efforts to make their relationship work.

Baz will realize after a certain point that he really does have feelings for Simon and not want to hurt Simon anymore. But at the same time, Baz still doesnt want Simon to marry someone else because duh, Baz wants Simon to be his now.

All the closeness of it all would make Simon confused because why does his heart start to race whenever he sees Baz. Why does he like it when Baz stands so close to him that it he took just a step forward their lips would meet. Why does he want to kiss Baz? Does he want to kiss Baz? Is he even gay? Is gay allowed in a monarchy?

And if someone does decide to write this PLEASE INCLUDE THE SCENE WHERE MIA SNEAKS OFF WITH THE NEPHEW AND THEY HAVE THAT PICNIC IN THE WOODS AND THEY SLEEP IN EACH OTHERS ARMS AND THEYRE CAUGHT AND SIMON THINKS THIS WAS ALL A PLOT AND STORMS AWAY HURT WITH TEARS IN HIS EYES LEAVING BAZ CONFUSED AND DESPERATE BECAUSE HE WAS PLOTTING BUT NOT THIS, THIS WAS JUST THEM AND THE WEDDING IS THE NEXT DAY AND HOW DOES HE SHOW SIMON THAT HE CARES FOR HIM AND NOT THE THRONE

!!!!,!,!!,!!!,!!!,!!,!,!!,!,!,!!!!!!

And PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE TAG ME, WRITE ME, IF YOU ARE WRITING THIS. I COULD EVEN HELP WITH SOME IDEAS ON HOW TO WRITE IT. OR EVEN CHECK THE GRAMMAR AND MAKE SURE THE CHARACTERS ARENT (TOO) OUT OF CHARACTER

[folkpages]

Review: Carry On

Rowell, R (2006). Carry On. Pan Macmillan. 

4/5 stars

“Well, how am I supposed to know? There isn’t a book is there? All the Magickal Things that are Actually True and All the Ones that Are Bollocks, Just Like You Thought.”

Simon Snow just wants to relax and savour his last year at the Watford School of Magicks, but no one will let him. His girlfriend broke up with him, his best friend is a pest and his mentor keeps trying to hide him away in the mountains where maybe he'll be safe. Simon can't even enjoy the fact that his room-mate and longtime nemesis is missing, because he can't stop worrying about the evil git. Plus there are ghosts. And vampires. And actual evil things trying to shut Simon down. When you're the most powerful magician the world has ever known, you never get to relax and savour anything.Based on the characters Simon and Baz who featured in Rainbow Rowell's bestselling novel Fangirl, Carry On is a ghost story, a love story, a mystery and a melodrama. It has just as much kissing and talking as you'd expect from a Rainbow Rowell story - but far, far more monsters. (x)

I’ve heard of Rainbow Rowell before, but under the assumption that she only wrote contemporaries. I’d seen a lot of snowbaz on Tumblr and finally decided to track down just where this ship came from and was surprised to see it was a Rainbow Rowell fantasy novel, which I just had to read. I went into this knowing absolutely nothing, not even who the main character Simon was going to end up with. All I knew was that it was a parody of the chosen one trope written like fan fiction.

Pro: Characters. All the characters are well rounded and likable, even the villain to a certain extent. We see all of their motivations and fears through their points of view, and all of them are distinct from each other.

Con: Use of English Idioms. Some of the idioms in this book aren’t quite used correctly, which I believe is done on purpose as the book is a parody. However as an English person myself, this is extremely annoying.

Pro: Romance. The romance was well written and believable. We see it from both characters’ points of view which is really well done and gives me the warm fuzzies.

Pro: The Magic System. The magic system was honestly lovely and rather easy to follow. The use of common phrases and sayings as both useful and disastrous spells is incredibly entertaining to read, particularly Simon’s failings with them and Baz and Penny’s eloquence with them.

Simon Snow: A clear parody of the Harry Potter type chosen one trope, Simon is a loveable idiot that you want to hug and shake him while screaming “it’s a crush not a murder plot” at the same time. An enjoyable character to read, Simon is funny, relatable and so uninterested in being the chosen one when he has an evil vampire boyfriend roommate to find and harass. Truly a breath of fresh air, he’s a chosen one who is both terrible and great at being the chosen one; he is ridiculously powerful and yet is terrible at casting spells, owns and can use a magical sword, that is mostly unnecessary for the events of the book, so on and so forth. I personally adore him.

Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch AKA Baz: The rival of Simon Snow and a surprising love interest, Baz is Simon’s presumed evil vampire roommate who lives solely to make Simon’s life a misery. When he doesn’t show up for his last year at school Simon is concerned he’s in trouble off plotting to end the world and kill him. Baz is essentially a funny character with a sarcastic sense of humor and a remarkable amount of self-loathing and self-awareness the other characters just don’t seem to possess. He’s also just as dumb as every other teenage boy and shows his feelings through bullying. Hence the ‘evil vampire roommate.’ 

Penelope Bunce AKA Penny: Penny is Simon’s best friend and the Hermione Granger type influence within the story, if slightly crazier. Penny is an all-around awesome character, brave to the point of stupidity and more curious than a cat. Penny gets some of the best oneliners in the novel and is the driving force of sheer competence that gets things actually done after Simon and Baz kick things off. 

Agatha Wellbelove: Agatha starts out as your generic love interest for the chosen one and absolutely resents it. While she considers Simon a dear friend, is far more interested his evil roommate much to his dismay. Agatha gets some of the best development in my opinion, and is, for me personally, the most relatable character. She’s also my favorite. 

The Mage AKA Davy: Simon’s mentor ad the Headmaster at Watford, he makes questionable choices and everyone but Simon hates him apparently. I originally liked him well enough, but slowly grew to hate him but in the way that you love to hate a good villain. I’m happy with how his story ended, but I would still love to read more of his origins!

Worldbuilding: I briefly touched on this earlier, but I do adore the culture and magic system Rainbow Rowell has built here. The magic system works off the fact that the world is covered in natural magic, that magic-users draw upon to cast spells which are popular phrases and words. “On love’s light wings” gives a user truly in love the ability to fly and “Out! Out damned spot!” cleans up. The possibilities for this are endless for all it is a relatively simple system, and I can’t wait to see what more becomes of it in the sequel. The culture of magicians shown throughout the book is also well done if a little vague. We see the split between the “evil” traditionalists like the Pitches and Grimms and the more revolutionary figures like The Mage. We also see a little of their laws and day to day work through the eyes of Simon while he visits his friend’s houses and meets their parents. 

Plot: Carry On is your basic chosen one trope reversed into a parody. The overarching plot of Simon vs the Humdrum was rather predictable, but the subplots were done marvelously. While it is pretty easy to figure out who the mysterious Lucy is, we still appreciate her chapters and want to read more of her story. The same goes for Baz’ minor vampires subplot, which was both hilarious and heartbreaking to follow. 

Writing Style: Carry On is written in a fanfiction style format and the writing is beautiful and nuanced with Rowell subtly shifting styles to reflect the characters, For instance, Simon, who speaks with a stutter and fumbles his spell pronunciation has long, complex sentences in his POV whereas Baz, who is vocally eloquent and quick-witted but an utter emotional mess on the inside has short, choppy often ungrammatical sentences in his thoughts to reflect this. It’s masterfully done. 

Conclusion: I loved this book and it’s easily become a favorite! It would have easily been a 5/5 for me had it not been for the irritating idioms and predictability (if you’re not English and annoyed feel free to consider this 5/5!). I would honestly recommend Carry On to everyone, even if you don’t like contemporary (I haven’t read any of Rowell’s contemporary works), I would suggest giving this a try! 

The sequel, Wayward Son comes out 2019. 

[bazypitchandsimonsnow]

The Black Swan

Chapter 13

Rating: T

Genre: Fluff/Angst

Word count: 5868

Chapter: 13/17 (All chapters)

Summary: Simon seeks the truth

Read on AO3

AN: Heyyyy this chapter is weird, be warned. Just remember is that we may know what's going on but no one else does. Hope you like this :D

———————————————

“I’ve started working on wind control,” Baz said. “I think I’m getting better. You were right, elemental magic is good general practice.” He flicked his wrist and created a mini tornado, tiny green leaves dancing through the sky.

“Cool,” Simon replied, voice distant and unfocused, just like his mind. Fuck, his mind was so far away it could be considered in a foreign traveller in a neighbouring kingdom. He was still reeling from what he saw last night.

The portrait was currently in the deepest, darkest corner of his closet after Simon spent hours studying it. And many hours and days later, it was still so clear. That boy looked exactly like Baz. Which would make Baz a prince. The prince. Prince Tyrannus Grimm-Pitch, late Heir of Watford, who supposedly died in a fire. Just like the one Baz was taken from as a child. Like the one that killed his mother. Like the one that killed Queen Natasha.

On the surface, it made perfect sense. All the pieces fell together to paint a perfect picture. But it was so fucking insane. How could it be true? Baz, his wonderful and strange cursed boy, actually the dead prince. More noble than Simon ever was. His brain still couldn’t process it.

“Snow? Simon, are you there?”

Simon’s head snapped up. Baz was standing over him. When had he gotten so close? Had Simon been that lost to the world? “Huh?”

“You alright, love? You seem a bit out of it tonight.”

“Uh, yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Just...thinking.”

“Well, that’s a first.”

Simon rolled his eyes and tapped his ankle in lieu of an actual kick. “Shut up, arsehole.”

Baz chuckled and put a hand on his hip. A few strands of black hair fell in his grinning face. He looked beautiful. He was perfect. He should know that.

“You’re really amazing,” he blurted out.

Baz’s face did a strange thing. His head pulled back and his lips slightly parted. Simon was never good at reading people, but that seemed like shock and awe. Was Baz awestruck by such a simple statement? He had to know that. He had to know Simon thought he was the most infuriatingly perfect man in the world.

His smirk returned, awe washed from his face. “Why thank you, Snow, I appreciate you stating the obvious.”

He was playing it off like a joke, but it wasn’t. Simon needed him to know how important he was. Long lost prince or cursed boy, he was so fucking incredible. Simon grabbed Baz’s wrist and yanked him down to the ground. Baz wobbled but found his balance on his knees, looking down at Simon with confusion. Simon took him by the back of the neck and kissed him firmly. Well, it was more just him shoving his mouth on Baz’s, no finesse or moving his lips the way he’d learned to over the past weeks. He didn’t want finesse. He wanted to somehow push his feelings into Baz, make him understand how much he cared just through their mouths touching. And when Baz pushed back, Simon wondered if Baz wanted Simon to know the same from him.

They separated with a small breath. Simon held his face tightly, thumbs dragging over his sharp cheekbones. The same cheekbones Natasha Grimm-Pitch apparently had. Simon was so conflicted. He of all people knew how terrible it was to be a prince. But...

“You really want to find your family,” he whispered, “right?”

Baz blinked at him. He sat back on his legs, wand placed carefully on the ground.He had that annoyingly attractive smirk again. “Well, it would be nice to know if I just manifested out of the aether or not.”

“Baz,” Simon half groaned, half sighed. “Please, just...actually answer.”

Baz squeezed his lips together. Simon tried to smooth out the worry lines on his forehead, but it was to no avail. Nothing short of a professional healer could probably soothe out that tension. But Simon tried anyway. He wanted Baz to feel better.

“I do,” Baz said, his voice a choked, small whisper. “I...I think I want to know if there’s someone out there that misses me.”

“I miss you,” Simon blurted out, almost defensive in a way. “I always miss you.”

Baz let out a breathy chuckle, hot air caressing Simon’s face. “I know, love. Thank you. I do appreciate it. It’s just, it’s not exactly the same. If I had a family, I must’ve disappeared on them. And I...I think, I want my absence to have been noticed. I want to know if someone...wants me to come home.” His voice broke slightly as he said it, and Simon’s heart crumbled at the sound. He was so vulnerable and open. Simon just wanted to hold him and protect him forever.

“And I need somewhere to go too, I suppose,” he laughed. “That’s just being practical.”

Simon wrapped both his arms around Baz, pushing Baz’s forehead into the crook of his neck. Baz hugged him back, bunching Simon’s shirt in his grip. He stroked Baz’s hair slowly. He wasn’t sure if he needed the intense comfort, but Simon would give it to him anyway.

Eventually, Baz pulled back, a half smile pulling at his mouth. He looked calmer. And that made Simon feel infinitely better.

“Let’s stop being all deep and sad, please,” Baz said with teasing lilt. “I want us to just be happy for once.”

Simon grinned and tucked a piece of hair behind his pointy ear. “Sure. I’m always happy around you though.”

Baz kissed a mole on his cheek. Simon noticed he liked to kiss that mole. It never failed to make his face flush. “I’m happy around you too.” He pulled back, wand pointed up. “And I want to show you this.”

He quickly jumped to his feet and held the wand to the sky. “A cold winter’s night.”

There was a small crack of thunder, then Simon felt something chilly and wet tickle his nose. His face scrunched up. He looked up, and felt more cold touch his skin. Simon’s eyes went wide. He held out his hand, and little flecks of white fell down, decorating his palm. He laughed breathlessly.

“It doesn’t snow here,” he said under his breath. “It never snows here.”

“Never say never, Snow,” Baz teased. “You must know by now nothing is impossible for us.”

Their eyes met between the falling powder. Yes, Simon thought, you’re right, nothing is impossible for you. Because you’re incredible and so strong. And you deserve to know that people miss you, even if it means having to possibly give you a burden like mine.

Simon stood up but immediately fell against Baz, head resting on his shoulder. One of Baz’s strong arms wrapped around his waist. They held each other in the soft snow. Baz was so solid and comforting. Simon stood in the cold shower and hoped that once Baz knew, this wouldn’t end in flames.

———————————————

Simon banged on the door as nicely as he could. He was impatient, but he wanted to stay on Penny’s good side. He especially needed to right now. And soon enough, the door swung open, with Penelope Bunce on the other side.

“This is becoming repetitive, Si,” she said, but she was still smiling.

“What, you don’t want to see me?” he asked

She rolled her eyes. “Shut up, arsehole, you know I do.” She waved him inside and closed the door behind them. “But recently, every time you come to my door, you drop some sort of weird question or astounding revelation on me.”

Simon chewed on his lip. Well, he knew this was going to be weird. Now it was just going to be weirder. “Yeah, about that...”

Penny let out a loud sigh and threw herself on the couch. “What is it now, Si? Is Agatha turning into a dragon? Have Baz’s eyes gotten prettier?”

“Uh, no,” he chuckled awkwardly. “Actually...it’s a bit more serious than that. And a bit more real.” He plopped him on the couch next to Penny, rucksack in his lap. “I found something, and I need your help proving I’m not crazy.”

Her brows pulled together. “Okay...”

Simon took a deep calming breath, then opened his rucksack. “I was in the library late at night, researching stuff, trying to find Baz’s family, so he has somewhere to go after the curse is broken. But I didn’t find anything, so I decided to try going further back. And something...weird happened. I found this secret room with lots of expensive stuff in it. I also found this.”

Simon pulled the portrait out of his bag and shoved it at Penny. She jolted back, blinking rapidly. She took it cautiously and adjusted her glasses, examining every detail. “Okay,” she said slowly, “this is definitely noteworthy. I didn’t think that any of portraits of the Queen survived, let alone one of the Prince.”

“Yeah, I know, so did I. But also, the thing is...it took me a second to figure it out, but...” He reached over and tapped Tyrannus’ small, pudgy face. “That kid, looks exactly like Baz.”

Penny’s eyes went incredibly wide. “Wait, you mean...”

“I think Baz is Prince Tyrannus,” he blurted out.

Penny looked at him with a gaping mouth. “You think, that your cursed lover boy, is the dead son of Queen Natasha Grimm-Pitch?”

Simon nodded slowly, fiddling with shaking hands quite a bit. “Y-Yeah, I think he is”

“But, Simon, the prince is dead! He died in the fire!”

“Yeah, yeah I know, Pen, but just hear me out.” He turned to Penny and looked her right in the eye. “Baz was kidnapped from a burning building when he was five. Someone took him and killed his mother, probably the same guy who cursed him. Maybe Prince Tyrannus was taken from the burning palace and everyone just thought he was dead. And that’s Baz.”

“But Prince Tyrannus isn’t missing,” Penny grumbled. “He died along with Queen Natasha in the fire. And how do you know all this about Baz and a fire? Does Baz really remember all these details from when he was five?”

Simon rubbed at the back of his neck, shrugging up to his ear. “Uh, Baz doesn’t remember that well. I actually...dreamed about all of it. Psychic visions and all that...”

Penny gave him a very particular look over her glasses. Simon recognised it from school when they were studying and he said something dumb or impulsive. “Simon, dreams aren’t reliab-”

“I know,” he groaned. “But I’ve been having them over and over for months. And they’re super consistent. And in it, a woman calls the boy I see ‘little puff’. That’s what Baz’s old caregiver called him. It’s too unusual to be a coincidence. And Penny, just look,” he pointed insistently at the picture again, “Baz looks exactly like the prince. Same hair, eyes, skin tone. They’re bloody identical!”

“I guess so...”

“You’ve seen Baz, Pen. Can’t you tell?”

“I’ve only seen him once, Si! From behind a mask and a headscarf! I mean, I’ll take your word for it, I trust your judgement.” He ran her thumb over the fancy frame, twisting her lip. “But, from what you’ve said about him, I don’t think this and your dreams will be enough to convince Baz he’s a bloody lost prince.”

“Yeah, I know. Which is why I was hoping I could look through your library. Your parents have stuff from before the castle burned down, right?”

Penelope sighed, then pushed herself to her feet. “Yes, most definitely. For once it’s probably good my parents are literary pack rats.”

She offered her hand, and Simon gladly took it, letting her pull him up. “Thank the Gods for book hoarding teachers.”

They both chuckled as they walked up the stairs together. The Bunce family library sat right next to Mitali and Martin’s bedroom. It wasn’t that big, and certainly wasn’t big enough to hold all their books. There were so many ceiling high shelves that you couldn’t see the walls. Simon had to tiptoe around precarious stacks of volumes and loose papers. Penny was already standing at a shelf, eyes scanning over the books.

“So what should we look for, Si?” Penny asked. Simon shrugged, and his friend glared. “We can’t sort through everything, Simon. We need somewhere to start.”

Simon scratched the top of his head. He asked himself, where would Baz start? “Um, how about stuff about the fire? I never learned any specifics about it.”

“None of us did, Si. King David took it out the history curriculum. He doesn’t want us to remember there was a royal family before you and him.”

Simon made a “humph” noise. King David and his bloody crown, always fucking everything up for him. “So there are no history books on the fire?”

Penelope shook her head. “Probably not.”

He twisted his mouth, rattling off possibilities in his head. So nothing made after the fire would have information it. But, what about something from when it first happened? Before David was in power. “Was there an announcement? Right after the fire happened?”

There was a pause. Simon wondered for a moment if he’d said something wrong. But then he heard a rustling, and when he turned around, Penny was on her knees, looking through a stack of scrolls. Simon stepped over book stacks to stand next to her.

“What are you doing?” he asked, genuinely confused.

“Well for one, thanking the Gods that my parents insist on keeping every town wide proclamation in case the royals try to contradict themselves,” she said. “Also, you’re a genius, Simon Snow, bloody genius.”

Simon blushed and shrugged. “Thanks, Pen.”

She kept sorting through the pile. Simon leaned down and helped her. Most of the scrolls had a green wax seal with a sword imprinted on it, the crest of House Owens. He tossed those away immediately. But once they made it through the top layer, the seal was a red flame, the symbol of House Pitch. Simon opened them and scanned the words as fast as he could. Most of them were boring. Tax increase this, district redraw that, blah blah blah. But then he found the words “tragic passing”. He hit Penny rapidly on the shoulder.

“Pen, Pen,” he said, “I think I found it.”

Penny scooted closer to him. Simon slowly unrolled the old paper. Luckily, the ink was still solid enough to read.

ANNOUNCEMENT FOR THE KINGDOM OF WATFORD: TRAGIC PASSING OF THE QUEEN AND CROWN PRINCE

August 2nd, 1102

It is with heavy hearts that the Royal Court of Watford must announce the tragic deaths of Her Majesty, Queen Natasha Grimm-Pitch, and His Royal Highness, Crown Prince Tyrannus Grimm-Pitch. Both sadly perished in the disastrous fire that destroyed Watford Castle. The Queen and Prince are survived by His Royal Highness, Prince Consort Malcolm Grimm, and Lady Fiona of House Pitch. The castle shall be rebuilt in due time. The Court shall handle all royal duties until a new ruler is crowned. A vigil shall be held in Watford Town Square in two days time to honour the late Queen and Prince. May they both rest in peace.

“Pretty standard stuff,” Penny grumbled. “Poor Lord Grimm and Lady Pitch, though. They’re stuck up pricks, but they didn’t deserve to lose their whole family.”

Simon’s brow furrowed, contemplative frown pulling at his mouth. “1002,” he said slowly. “We would’ve been five then, right?”

“Uh, yeah, I guess so.”

“Baz is the same age as us. He would’ve been five when Watford Castle burned down, the same age he was brought to the lake.”

Penelope’s face scrunched up. Not on confusion though, more in thought. “You know his birthday?”

“Yeah. February 24th, 997.”

An toothy grin spread across her face. It was how she looked whenever she solved a problem. “Si, if there was a royal proclamation of the Prince’s death, there has to be one of his birth.”

Simon grinned as well. He grabbed her face and put a big wet kiss on her forehead. “You’re a genius too, Penelope Bunce.”

“Thank you, thank you. Now let’s look.”

They sorted through the scrolls again. It was harder now that they were in the Grimm-Pitch ones. Simon had to look over each one before tossing it away. It made everything take twice as long. What a weird thing to complain about.

“Got it!” Penny shouted. “I got it.”

Simon leaned over her shoulder as they read the words.

ANNOUNCEMENT FOR THE KINGDOM OF WATFORD: BIRTH OF CROWN PRINCE

February 25th, 997

It is with great pride that Her Majesty, Queen Natasha Grimm-Pitch and His Royal Highness, Prince Consort Malcolm Grimm announce the birth of their son, His Royal Highness, Prince Tyrannus Grimm-Pitch. He was born late last night at a healthy weight with no complications. Her Majesty is perfectly well after the birth. Prince Tyrannus shall be officially declared Heir to the Throne of Watford in one week’s time. Long may he thrive.

“Wait what’s this?” Simon asked, furiously tapping at the bottom of the page. Unlike the other announcement, there were two large symbols stamped on the bottom of the page. One was clearly the flames of House Pitch. But the other was familiar in a different way; it was of three wheat stalks on a field.

“Um.” Penny brought the parchment closer, squinting her eyes. “I think that’s the crest of House Grimm. They’re descended from farmers, it makes sense.”

Simon tapped it even more insistently. “That symbol, Baz, he-he has it, he has it!”

Penny looked at Simon like he was a few tarts short of a banquet. “What the fuck does that mean?”

“I-It means, Baz he, he has this necklace, he’s had it his whole life. It’s got his birthday on one side, and on the other is this symbol. And you say it’s the crest of House Grimm. So that means...”

“He might have some connection to House Grimm,” Penny said, voice quiet, completely disbelieving.

“Like it being the house of his father!’ Simon bounced to his feet, nearly knocking over some book stacks with his waving arms. “This is it! It’s the same birthday, his necklace symbol. It’s proof that Baz is the prince!”

Simon felt like he was buzzing with delight. And he wanted Penelope to be jumping for joy like him. But she looked unconvinced. In fact, she looked almost sad. Simon immediately deflated.

“You don’t think so,” he said, voice bordering on a whine.

Penelope sighed and looked at Simon with sympathetic eyes. “I want to, Si, I really do. But, I just can’t get past one thing.”

“What?”

“The prince is dead.” She held up the first scroll towards him. “Look at the proclamation, Si. Tyrannus was uncategorically called deceased, after a horrible fire! Why would he be declared dead if he was just missing? Wouldn’t Lord Grimm, Lady Pitch, and everyone else in the bloody kingdom want to have hope that the son of Queen Natasha and heir to the throne was alive?”

Simon opened his mouth to argue, but unfortunately, Penny had a point. They wouldn’t declare a crown prince dead if there was a chance he was alive. “Maybe they made a mistake?” Simon said nervously.

“About the heir to throne?”

He shrugged. “Well, it’s possible, right?”

Penny fiddled glasses, mouth shifting back and forth. “I guess. The person who examined the bodies might’ve mistaken someone else for the prince.”

“Who examined the people after the fire?”

“The court physician, I guess.” Penny’s eyes went wide. She lifted her eyes to meet Simon’s. “Who’s still Lord Wellbelove.”

Simon grinned once more. His heart was beating so fast he could hear the blood in his ears. Everything felt electrified. Even his skin somehow tingled. Hope was such a strange, wonderful sensation. “We have to go see Agatha.”

———————————————

“Remind me again why we need to get into my father’s office?” Agatha said as she fiddled with the keys. Simon and Penny stood behind her. They were all very lucky Lord Wellbelove was with Lady Wellbelove, both of them stuck in another meeting with King David. They had to hammer out final terms before the winter ball tomorrow. It sounded like hell. Simon hoped to save all of them from that hell very soon.

“It’s a very long story,” Simon said. “And I promise to explain it all to you later when everything calms down.”

She gave him a look over her shoulder, one eyebrow raised. Simon gave her his brightest, kindest smile. And thankfully, Agatha just sighed and shook her head. “Alright. I trust you, and I'll hold you to that full story later.”

Simon pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Thank you, Aggie, you’re the best.”

Agatha made a “yuck” noise and wiped her face. “Yes yes, I know.” The key finally turned, a loud click resonating down the stone hallway. “And I’m the keymaster too.”

She pushed the door open. The hinges squealed like a rat’s who’s tail had been stepped on. Penny used her ring to light the torches along the wall. Lord Wellbelove kept a very organised office, thank the Gods. His oak desk was immaculate, with notepaper, a quill, and ink. Shelves were filled with identical versions of brown leather journals. The cabinets were labelled with initial ranges of what Simon had to assume referred to patient names.

“Your father is a neat freak, I see,” Penelope said, taking a torch to scan over the perfectly alphabetized files.

“Yeah,” Agatha sighed. “Something about ‘tidy room, tidy mind’, I think. Don’t ask me, my room looks like a tornado hit it.”

“C’mon, c’mon, we have to look!” Simon said. He threw open the filing cabinet drawer, flipping through the papers as fast as he could without messing it up.

Agatha stood over him with one hand on her hip. “And what the hell are we looking for, Si?”

“Uh, anything about the big palace fire. The one that killed Queen Natasha and Prince Tyrannus.”

“Oh, alright. You can check those files, but I doubt you’ll find anything about that in there.”

Simon spun around, looking up with her with utter confusion and desperation. “Why not?”

“Because,” she sighed, “he wouldn’t be able to keep a record that sensitive, the Court would take it. But even you wouldn’t be able to get into the Court records. They’re under heavy magical lock and key. Father is always complaining about it when he wants to learn from old cases.”

Simon’s whole body and soul deflated. “Oh. That sucks.”

“But,” Agatha walked towards the shelf of leather bound books, “I bet my father made notes in his journals. He’s obsessive about those things.”

“Yes, yes!” Simon suddenly felt alive again. He scrambled to his feet and followed her. “I remember, he was even writing in it during our graduation ceremony.”

Agatha sighed as she ran a finger over the journal’s spines, each branded with a date range. “Exactly. Mother and I were ready to kill him that day. What date are you looking for?”

“Uh, August 1002.” And like it was sent from the heavens, Simon saw that exact month and year stamped on the journal right in front of him. “Like this one says!”

He plucked it off the shelf and rushed over to the desk. Agatha stood behind him while Penny sat on the desk. Simon furiously flipped through the pages. It was a bit hard to read Lord Wellbelove’s chicken scratch writing (like Simon was one to talk). But soon he saw the word “fire”, and stopped dead.

August 10th, 1002, Final Conclusions from Palace Fire

After a thorough examination of the debris, I can conclude that Queen Natasha and Prince Tyrannus were the only deaths from the fire. Everyone else suffered mild to severe injuries, but are recovering well. Final conclusions:

H.S Queen Natasha O. Grimm-Pitch: Death by asphyxiation, most likely from smoke inhalation, body burnt but recognizable

H.R.H Prince Tyrannus B. Grimm-Pitch: Assumed deceased, body most likely too buried beneath too much debris

Despite the Prince’s body being unfound, Lord Grimm has said there is no hope his son is alive. He is too grief stricken and morose to continue. Agreed with King Presumptive David to cease debris search. Tyrannus will be declared officially deceased. My findings will be put in Court records. Hopefully the prince’s body will be found one day so I can examine it properly.

Simon’s jaw was firmly on the ground. And the ground felt like it had fallen out from underneath him so he hit the centre of the world. He read the words over and over, but it stayed the same. The proof before felt like poor, dirty scraps compared to this.

“Holy shit,” Penny whispered, “his body was never found.”

“Yeah,” Simon said, voice shaky.

“Why is that important?” Agatha asked as she leaned on Simon’s shoulder.

“It’s, uh, part of that long story, Ags.” Simon twisted his head to her. “Think your dad would notice if this journal went missing for a couple days?”

Agatha shook her head. “Definitely not. He’s too busy right now, he hasn’t been in this office in days. And I really do expect a long explanation later, Si.”

“Of course, of course.” He squeezed her hand with a big smile on his face. “Thank you, Agatha.” He looked back at the journal, and something caught his attention. He tapped Penny’s knee. “Pen, look, the Prince’s middle initial.”

He held up the journal to her, tapping his name. She took it and squinted, then chuckled under her breath. “Wow, that’s...quite the coincidence. It’s just an initial though. Agatha, do you know what the Prince’s full middle name is?”

“No, no clue. My father would know, I guess, but he’s still in the meeting with King David”

“Dammit,” Simon grumbled, picking at his nails. He wanted to see Baz tonight, before the Winter Ball. Before this damn engagement was announced before every member of the court.

Simon’s head bolted up. “Aren’t Lady Pitch and Lord Grimm here today? For the ball tomorrow night?”

“Um, they should be,” Agatha said. “No clue where they are though.”

Simon snapped the journal shut, the sharp sound reverberating in the quiet room. “I might know. And I have to talk to one of them.”

“Well, I have to get to work,” Penny said, jumping off the desk. She put a comforting hand on Simon’s arm. “Good luck with all this, Si.”

Simon squeezed her wrist. “Thanks, Pen.” He stood up and immediately pulled Agatha into a tight hug. She hugged him back, though with a bit of hesitation, which Simon understood. She had no idea what was going on, but she was willing to help him anyway. And he really loved her for it. He would tell her absolutely everything later. “Thank you, Aggie. You’ve really helped.”

“Welcome, Si,” she said. “Whatever this is, I hope you solve it.”

He chuckled as he pulled back. “Me too. I gotta run. I’ll see you later, alright?”

She nodded and delicately patted his shoulder. “You certainly will.”

Simon nodded back, then dashed out through the door. He had a vague idea where he wanted to go. And weirdly enough, his vague ideas were usually helpful. Hopefully this one was too.

———————————————

Simon was damn tired. He’d been wandering the guest wing for almost half an hour now and still no sign of Lord Grimm or Lady Pitch. Lord Grimm was probably holed up somewhere. He was notoriously anti-social at these sort of events, only coming out of obligation, and Lady Pitch wasn’t much better. Simon barely knew what Lady Pitch looked like, anyway. She made a point of coming to the castle as little as possible, and was probably only here after begging from Lord Grimm to be there for support during the Winter Ball. Simon guessed she looked like Queen Natasha and Baz. But even if that was true, this castle was so huge.

He turned a corner and slumped against the wall. This felt hopeless. It seemed only fair that after so many victories he’d get one defeat. It was just sad that he had come to a screeching halt this close to the end. This close to what he hoped was the final confirmation, the last clue that Baz was Prince Tyrannus, that he had a family. All he needed was to talk to one of the Grimm-Pitches. If only they weren’t so dark and mysterious and hard to find. Cook Pritchard was a Pitch cousin or something right? Maybe that would be easier. Maybe his feet would hurt less.

“This place is disgusting,” a woman’s voice grumbled. “Malcolm owes me big time.”

The voice’s owner turned the corner Simon was hiding in. She was a bit shorter than Simon, with reddish-gold skin and black hair, save for a single stark blonde streak. Simon caught a glimpse of her deep sea grey eye.

“Lady Pitch!” he shouted, rushing towards her.

Lady Pitch jumped and spun around, eyes wide and hands in a defensive position. Her mouth morphed into a scowl she fully took in who Simon was. She put a hand on the hip of her black trousers. (She was also known for openly flouting social conventions, especially when it came to clothes.)

“Well,” she growled, “if it isn’t Davy’s little exploding orphan princeling.”

Simon instinctively pulled in on himself. “Y-Yeah, it’s me. It’s an honour to meet you Lady Pitch, we’ve...never met me before, I think.”

“No. Because I didn’t want to.” Simon flinched slightly. She took a step forward, looming over him even with her lesser height. “Why are you bothering me, princeling? Don’t you have another family’s dignity to steal?”

“Um, I, uh, I, have a question actually, that I think you could answer, maybe.”

“Oh? I thought the Pitches had nothing to offer except taxes and a ready made kingdom for your father to snatch.”

Simon rubbed his burning neck. “Uh, he’s not technically my father...”

“Whatever,” she spat. “Your adopted father. Doesn’t change that you’re his heir and lackey.”

“Y-Yeah, I guess...”

She took another menacing step forward, both hands on her hips now. “So, what in the gods’ names would you want from me? Or do you get off on wasting my damn time?”

Simon gulped. And he thought Baz could be intimidating. He clutched the journal to his chest, the closest thing he had to a security blanket right now. “I wanted to ask you something about your nephew. Prince Tyrannus, I mean.”

“I only hav- had one nephew, princeling,” Fiona growled, arms crossing over her chest as she shoved her face forward. “Why the Hell do want to know about him? Your King has made it his mission to erase my sister and nephew from history. Looking for some way to resurrect their memory so you can desecrate it?”

Simon violently shook his head. “No! No, of course not, I-”

“Then what? Think my dead family is a fun little curiosity for you to play with?!”

“No! Just...” He took a deep breath. He was this close to blurting out the truth, but that would probably make Lady Pitch even more angry. She would accuse Simon of lying, and that was obviously incredibly counter productive. He took another breath and kept his eyes shut, focusing on his words. “I’m...I’m not like King David. I don’t want to forget the past. I-I want to learn about it. And from what I know about Queen Natasha, she’s someone I could learn from. I could learn from her ideas. And Prince Tyrannus was only five when he...died. He doesn’t deserve to be forgotten, I-I think.”

Simon looked at the ground as the silence stretched between them. It filled the space with an invisible weight the crushed Simon’s lungs and dried out his throat. Eventually, with a lot of built up courage, Simon lifted his head. Surprisingly, Lady Pitch didn’t look angry. Her eyes were narrowed, mouth a thin line. It was critical, but not in a malicious way. Just a curious way, trying to figure Simon out. Simon was familiar with that look. From Penny, from Baz, from lots of people trying to understand him. Few people did. He hoped Lady Pitch would be one of them.

“What do you want to know?” She asked, voice biting. But she still asked.

Simon let out a small sigh of relief. His grip on the journal loosened. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me before you ask, I may not have the answer. Now ask me your question before I change my mind.”

Simon nodded vigorously. “Right, right, sorry.” He rubbed at his neck, gulping before mustering up the words. “Uh, I was looking at old stuff about Prince Tyrannus, and I noticed that he was sometimes called ‘Tyrannus B. Grimm-Pitch’. So I was wondering what the B stood for...?”

The silence resumed. Lady Pitch didn’t look critical though. Instead, she looked very, very confused. “That’s what you want to know about? What my dead nephew’s middle name was? Really?”

Simon’s cheeks heated up. He went back to clutching the book. “Y-Yeah, I was just...curious. I can’t find his full name. He...he seemed like a nice kid. I was wondering what his full middle name was...” Lady Pitch was still looking at him like he was insane. Simon’s entire face was flushed. “N-Nevermind, I’ll just go now. Thank you for your time, Lady Pitch.”

Simon spun on his feels and started speed walking away. This was a dumb idea. He had enough proof anyway. This was just some sort of stupid desperate act for one more confirmation, he supposed. He didn’t need to know. He-

“Basilton.”

Simon stopped in his tracks and slowly turned around. Lady Pitch was still standing there with arms over her chest. But she didn’t look angry, or sad, or anything really. Just neutral. Which was honestly better than the other options.

“What?” Simon said stupidly. He was still processing.

“Prince Tyrannus’ middle name,” she said with a hint of bite. “It was Basilton, or Basil for short. That’s what we in the castle usually called him. Does that answer your question?”

Simon stayed frozen for a moment, but once his brain came back to life, he nodded rapidly. “Yes, yes, thank you, very much.”

She didn’t say you’re welcome. Simon didn’t expect her to. But she did nod once, and that was the closest Simon knew he’d get to those actual words. “Hope you end up being better than Davy, princeling.”

“Uh, I’ll try.”

“Good.” She turned on her heels and walked away. And that was that.

Simon let out a long breath, resisting the urge to collapse to the floor. He was both filled with relief and buzzing with excitement. That was it. That had to be it. There was absolutely no denying it; Prince Tyrannus was not dead. He was very much breathing, cursed but otherwise well. And he damn well wouldn’t be cursed for much longer.

———————————————

AN: Fiona would've probably fought Simon right there if she could lol. Hope you liked that! I know this is a weird chapter. I'm nervous about publishing it. It was originally linked with chapter 14 but then it would've been like 27 pages long so I had to split them. I might publish chapter 14 a bit early, depending on how much of my essay I get done. Either way, see you guys next time :)

[justowrite]

Birthday letters

words: 1610(ish)

genre: angst, hurt, comfort.

triggers: mention of death.

note: it's been so long since i uploded a fic, but here you go. it's short and not my beat work but i wrote it on my phone and on a bus so here it is. it was supposed to be for Simon's birthday but i failed to finished it until now.

anyway, thanks for reading and i hope you enjoy it! <3

AO3

***

Simon Snow.

It sounds like a book character.

"Salisbury." He hears Baz say, "It doesn't have the same ring to it."

It doesn't.

But it's Lucy's last name. His mother's.

His name had been an object of confused looks or simply stupid questions. Most kids back at the homes thought he made it up himself, which was fair. It sounded made up. Which might have been true for all he knows. It's not like it was written on somewhere other than his arm.

Then it just didn't matter anymore. In the World of Mages he was the Chosen One, the Mage's Heir as Baz loved to remind him. His name was rather an empty tittle.

Now, 21 years after, he was given a name. A dead family. A long forgotten past. And a diary.

Lucy's diary.

It confirmed everyone's suspicions about the Mage being Simon's father(not like he would ever take his name)(not that he kew it either). It gave an explanation, or context at least to Simon's birth, to their lives before him.

 ***

Simon sat in the end of his bed, staring at the blue matching eye's to his own on the photo Penny's mom had given him of her mother during her Watford days. She had plastered a big smile, pink lips, squinting because of the sun, her hair blonder than his, almost cheer under the light, messy against the wind. She looked happy and free.

Like most of her first entries on her diary. It was from the year after she left Watford. She was engaged to Davy by then. And she was happy with him. She was young and in love, he could tell. Simon wondered what happened, he hadn't read the end just yet.

"She looks so much like you..." He felt Baz's weight as the bed gave in. Her hair was light and her skin fair, but... "Her eyes betray her"

Simon stroke with his fingers her picture, as if he could touch her.

"She was younger than us, when she..." died, Baz opened his mouth to finish for Simon but he kept going, "...when she got married to him."

"They moved in together, she got a pair a chickens..." Simon looked for the page to show Baz, smiling, "One day she forgot she had left the bag of food in her pocket and only realized she was leaving a trace when she noticed the chickens were following her everywhere after a whole day." He chuckled, looking at the messy letter down in the book.

Baz rest his arm on Simon's shoulder and lean into the book with a growing soft smile. "She...she sounds lovely." Just like you, he wanted to say.

"She does, doesn't it?" Simon turned quiet all of a sudden, "I wish I could've met her..."

Baz's heart skipped a beat, as it shrink in pain. "Love..."

Simon turned back to him, "It's fine, it's just that..." Simon breath sharply.

Baz didn't know what was worse, losing something you never knew you had or losing something you knew and lost grasp of.

Baz moved his hand to cup Simon's face, Simon simply lean into the touch. "I know, love, I know..." He put their forehead together before leaving a gentle kiss on it.

He reached for his phone on the nightstand.

"12:13 am" Baz stated for Simon to hear, and looked up to stare back to Simon's confused eyes. "Happy birthday, idiot." Baz mocked.

Simon's freckles were left under the red going up on his face. "...Right..."

"Happy birthday, love."

****

"Happy birthday!" Penny laid a couple of scones in front of him as he sat down in the breakfast table, with a cup of coffee next to it.

He awkwardly smiled. "Thanks Pen."

It was weird, he had never celebrated his birthday. He didn't know the date before, and making one up made him feel...stupid.

But Penny had looked on his mother's diary and somehow found his birthday and was determined to make up for 22 years of no birthdays.

"Baz already left?" She asked, while reaching for the butter.

"Yeah...he wasn't here by the time I woke up." He frowned, Baz regardless how responsable and organized he was, he wasn't a morning person.

Usually it was Simon who woke him up. He tried everything in his power to not leave the bed before 9am. It was only 7 when Simon woke up. Instead, on the nightstand Simon found a rose, and a happy birthday in his beautiful cursive letter.

Penny left the butter next to his scones and sat down next to him, without commenting anything further.

"So you really don't have anything plan for your birthday?" She asked, instead.

"Penny," Simon stared, putting down his coffee, "You would be the first to know if I did."

She smiled, taking a sip from her cup, "You are right."

***

Simon really didn't have anything planned. And it felt wrong after all those years following any of Penny's plans. It was too late to plan for a party and Simon didn't really felt like he wanted to go to dinner or anything special.

Instead he did chores, he send memes to Baz, he baked cupcakes, read some stuff for his classes, send more texts that Baz ignored, until he had nothing else to do. Until he was staring at his mother's diary. He sat up again and opened it.

He sigh and started reading. It was going from bad to worse.

Even when Lucy sounded so happy, it was clear that Davy(knowing his name now, made Simon realized he didn't know the Mage's name before) wasn't good enough for her. He wasn't good enough to her even, clearly.

By then she had started writing to the baby, for him.

She chose his name, she wanted him to sound like a hero if he was going to be one. She had so many expectation that everything was going to be better once the baby was born. The magic world was going to be safe and she was going to have a family. Davy finally would be right and would have time for them, she would have a baby to take care of and everything would've been fine.

Well, it would've been.

Simon knew something bad waited as he reached the end, if it hadn't he wouldn't be hearing for her 22 years after. He would've grown up with people telling him that he looked more like his mother than his father, and her mother laughing kindly.

But instead he found a letter and empty pages.

June 21.

My rosedbud boy(she called him, after all those years he finally recognized her).

It's the day! I'll get to hold you, to kiss you. Finally I'll get to met you my boy.

Even your father it's excited, he has waited for you for so long...he's made so many preparations for us, he looks so happy!

I feel it's been too long of a path but for you, I'm sure you are worth every pebble in the way, I already know it. I just feel it. That you have a bright future in the way. And I want to be there to see you there after you save the world.

But I don't think you should worry about that right now, in the mean time, we will protect you. I will Simon.

I'll give everything for your life, my rosebud boy.

Love, your mother.

Then empty pages, now wet on tears and crumble by Simon's fingers. Who sat in the dark, fill with anger and sadness that before would've had blown the room up.

"Si! Baz is-" Simon squinted at the light coming from the door, tears still falling, "You finished?" Penny sat next to him on the edge of the bed, talking in the voice she reserved for him.

"She died today Penny," He stood up, frustration in his voice, "She died-!" The book flew away from his hands and fell open into the bed, on the crumble letter from his mother, "She died because of me." He looked down at Penny.

"You didn't-"

"Of course I didn't!" Finally Baz came through the door, "But she-! She...she died giving me a life..." His voice cracked, falling on to his knees.

Penny help his face after a minute. "And it wasn't your fault Simon, if it was up to you she would be still be here, wouldn't she?"

"Of course but..."

"It wasn't." She said as a last word.

It didn't make the heaviness in his chest go away, but in the moment the tears stopped and he didn't have any other argument. Penny always won those anyway.

Outsite of the room, the room was full of balloons and food and a table with two lonely gifts.

"Guys...I..." Simon started, squishing Baz's hand.

"Yeah, maybe we should hold the celebration for another day." Penny said already texting the guests, Simon assumed.

"I'm sorry, I know you wanted to give me a good birthday." Simon tried to smile, as he sat down next to Penny, sadly texting.

"You just discovered how you mother died Simon, no one it's gonna blame you for not being in the mood to party." Baz walked up to him, and cupped his face "It's okay, whatever you are feeling right now, it's okay." The words eco in Simon's mind, too many years ago when Baz's discovered how his own mother died.

Simom leaned into the touch, and too a sharp breath. 

"Thank you." He said, meaning it, "It's not what I imagined but I never really imagined anything. I thought I was going to die before I got to anything." 

Baz and Penny knew very well. Baz better than anyone knew it better than anyone, having felt the same. He didn't thought he made it out alive, much less in a future where he would get to be Simon's comfort rather than his demise. 

"Everything it's going to be okay, love." Simon put his hand over Baz's. 

"It already is." As okay as it going to get, Simon thought. "As long you are here."