#back and back and back

[you-remind-me-of-the-babe]

Hi friends! I don’t know how long it’s been since I’ve posted anything. A long ass while. I’m not writing much these days so haven’t had much to share. Something something tired, overworked, too much scrolling because I can’t be bothered to do much else. The weather’s getting warmer though. Summer is just around the corner, so maybe I’ll have more time to dust off some WIPs. And participate more in fandom again. Wouldn’t that be nice?

Here’s far more than six sentences of my sadly neglected time travel AU Back and Back and Back:

29 October 2013

Baz is 16 and Simon is 17

BAZ

“What’s that one there?” Simon asks, pointing at the night sky through a break in the trees. We’re spread out on the ground in the glen, a blanket laid out beneath us for comfort. Simon is lying on his back, using my legs for a pillow.

“Which one?” I ask.

“The one with the trapezoid shape,” he points again, then looks up and catches my eye. “What? Do you not know that one?”

Shit. I’m too busy gazing down at his beautiful form lounging in my lap instead of looking at what he’s talking about. It’s hard to care about the twinkling stars above when the constellations on his face are far more captivating. Reluctantly, I turn my gaze skyward.

“That’s the head of Draco. The dragon.”

“Yeah?” He shifts a little and smiles.

“Mmm. Some call him a snake, as his body twists and coils up to the left.”

Simon frowns. “No wings?”

“He used to have wings. That way,” I say, pointing. Snow tracks my movement. “But then those stars got relegated to Ursa Minor and he lost them.”

“Well that’s bollocks,” Simon says and I snort a laugh. “We’ve already got a bear.” He points vaguely in the direction of Ursa Major, which we located earlier in the evening. His breath puffs out and curls before dissipating. It’s only October but it’s getting frightfully cold in the evenings and the sun has been down for a while. Simon tucks his fingers under his arms as if he’s just noticed the cold, too.

I look down at his pink cheeks. If I were brave enough, I’d plot him a dragon of his own, there, under his left eye. I’d trace its outline with my finger, ending with the tail curled round his chin. And if he’d let me, I’d tilt his chin up, until I met his lips with my own.

But since I’m a coward I look skyward again instead. I point out heroes of old and weave stories while cataloging the feeling of his head in my lap. If this is as close as I’ll ever get to Simon Snow, then I’ll damned well make sure I remember it for the rest of my life.

Have I written star gazing before? Yes, yes I have. But it’s romantic as hell so sue me for using it twice. I also don’t think I opened my Sky Guide app since the last time i needed to research constellations for fic. 😂

Maybe one day when time, energy and inspiration come into alignment like celestial bodies in the sky, I’ll be able to write more on this fic.

Thank yous/howdy/tags etc @whatevertheweather @cutestkilla @artsyunderstudy @bookish-bogwitch @thewholelemon

@harrie-leithillustration @rimeswithpurple @run-for-chamo-miles @ileadacharmedlife @blackberrysummerblog

@best--dress @facewithoutheart @roomwithanopenfire @prettygoododds @iamamythologicalcreature

@youarenevertooold @monbons @mooncello @fiend-for-culture @the-beard-of-edward-teach

@crankybeetle @drowninginships @larkral @emeryhall

Pay no attention to the blank poll below. I pressed a button and it appeared and I do not know how to un-do it and I am too lazy to start this post over…

OMFG Tumblr won’t let me press post unless i write in the poll HELP.

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

now that trump has tiktok, twitter, facebook and insta in his pocket, get ready for a massive wave of internet censorship. one of trump's greatest weapons has always been misinformation; it's going to become harder and harder to spread facts and criticism going forward. posts that aren't made invisible will be magically ignored by the algorithm. dissidents will have their accounts deleted and voices erased.

this is a suppression tactic. this is another stage of fascism.

[ryderdire]

Really interesting thing I glimpsed on rednote today

I think We- we’re developing international class consciousness 

[hauntingrabbits]

comic

[toastbutteregg]

[astronnova]

that one scrapped episode

[wishfulsketching]

Girl dad Silco is a source of endless entertainment for me

Extra doodles:

Someone save Sevika, she is in hell

[skipppppy]

So there’s a trend going round where you draw Miku inspired by your own culture and normally I just sit those out bc i’m from England but then the image of her covered in fake tan with the full chav makeup and sloppily bleached blue pigtails popped into my head and i almost threw up laughing. So here’s bri’ish Miku. She smells like impulse body spray and spent the last 30 minutes arguing with the teacher who told her to take her coat off. It’s chewsday innit

edit: i fucked up with the cigarette i know it’s the wrong way round blease stop making fun of me 😔💔

[jue-jack]

Kirby is a star!!!

[pierog]

i'm so glad goncharov happened when it did, right before prolific public use of AI. that was pure honest gaslighting straight from the heart. real human whimsicality and trickery thru blood sweat and tears. we were a family. and we all gonched, together. you cant replicate that with any machine.

[you-remind-me-of-the-babe]

From the WIP Graveyward

Hello friends! I’m trying to get back in the swing of writing my time travel WIP, Back and Back and Back. I left a lot of half starts for the chapter I was last working on when I put the whole thing on the back burner. Going back now to figure out what I can keep and what won’t make it. This bit probably won’t because I’m thinking of changing the POV entirely, but I thought it was sweet, so I thought I’d release it into the wild here.

Here’s a little Baz POV, 7th year, Watford:

I wait, but he doesn’t come in.

“This is ridiculous,” I mutter as I head to the door, then wrench it open.

Snow is there, slumped against the wall and holding a limp arm. He’s sweaty and pale and blood stains his shirt near his shoulder.

“Fuck, Snow. We have a hospital wing,” I say, my voice pitching concerningly high.

He groans weakly and mumbles something that sounds like just and home.

And look! Six sentences!

Hellos/tags/thank yous/high fives

@cutestkilla @emeryhall @thewholelemon @bookish-bogwitch @whatevertheweather

@artsyunderstudy @j-nipper-95 @nausikaaa @roomwithanopenfire @monbons

@orange-peony @blackberrysummerblog @rimeswithpurple @prettygoododds @leithillustration

@drowninginships @aristocratic-otter @run-for-chamo-miles @youarenevertooold @mooncello

@bookishbroadwayandblind @valeffelees @iamamythologicalcreature @martsonmars @technetiumai

@ileadacharmedlife @shrekgogurt @skeedelvee

[beholdthemem]

My fellow bitches under 5'5. Whatever the money, do not take a job working at a middle school. A fellow adult tried to put me in detention last month and would NOT give up until I showed her my badge proving Yes, The School Hired Me To Work Here. It's not meant for people our height.

[cronchy-baguette]

caitlyn's garden of violets

[thattripleabattery]

[scarecrowbutch]

in times like these at least i have the character