#but I think they make Baz melt

[prettygoododds]

Thanks @rimeswithpurple and @imagineacoolusername for the tags. And for all those that tagged me Sunday as well. I was unfortunately busy watching my kiddo WIN A STATE SOCCER CHAMPIONSHIP.

Anywhoozle, that’s not what you all came for. Here’s your hockey fic fix:

“Don’t give yourself so much credit, babe.”

He keeps talking. Rambling on about a Gareth and just how bad a practice can be, but mind hasn’t moved passed the word babe.

Babe?

I never took Simon for the pet-name type. I didn’t even take me for the pet-name type! But that one word pooled something in my belly, something warm and inviting.

Fun fact, I myself loathe pet names. The glare I would level my darling husband with if he ever called me one would be deadly.

On to the next WIP. Here’s a bit from the next section of the playlist prompt:

We were up all night, talking trash and wasting time.

At a certain point, I’m drunk enough to tell Agatha she’s beautiful and give her a sloppy wink.

“I’m immune to your lines, Simon,” she tells me.

“S’not a line,” I hiccup. “I really mean it.”

“You wouldn't tomorrow, at least not how you want to mean it. You’re a mess.”

She’s not wrong.

I am a mess.

That’s all she wrote… literally.. I gotta get on it.

Tags: @ic3-que3n @dohrnaira @thewholelemon @facewithoutheart @artsyunderstudy @shemakesmeforget @ivelovedhimthroughworse @ionlydrinkhotwater @wellbelesbian @aristocratic-otter @cutestkilla @blackberrysummerblog @nausikaaa @supercutedinosaurs @nightimedreamersworld

[skeedelvee]

Ayy! I'm finally trying one of these! Thank you everyone that's tagged me in theirs in the past, I always like getting the notifications so I can check out all of your wonderful WIPs! <3

Doing a few WIPs since I've got a bunch going and I've gotten interest in a few.

First up is Second Moon! This is a sequel to my fic First Moon in which Simon is experiencing his first time transforming into a were-dragon. These fics are inspired by @frjsti 's amazing artwork! The sequel is about his 2nd time transforming and how Simon and Baz handle it differently now they know what they're in for and they've had time to prep for and crave certain fantasies for the next full moon. Here's a snippet of them discussing Baz wanting to bottom this time around:

He’s got his academic face on, as if we were talking about the merits of some new magical theory and not him taking my foot long dragon cock up his arse. “Still, there's a lot of risk involved in this. Even if I don’t destroy your arse, there’s still my claws and my fire breath to worry about. It’s a bit dangerous, innit?” “I thought you were the one to always face danger head on.” “I am, but this really isn’t about me.” “Isn’t it? Listen. If you really don’t want to do this, I won’t press for it, but it’s what I want and I’m not afraid of what might happen. I trust you.” I mull it over for a moment before he adds: “And if you do manage to kill me, please make sure my headstone reads ‘Here lies Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch. He died doing what he loved: getting railed by Simon Snow’s monster cock.” I snort. “Your father would have my head if I even suggested that.” “Then I’ll have to have it written up in an official will,” he says with a smile. “What will it be then, Snow? Do you want this?” There’s no point lying about it. “Yes. I want it. I want you. You have to promise me though, that you won’t let me hurt you. Don’t muscle through it for my sake. Say your safe word as soon as things turn bad.” “I promise, Simon.”

@stitchy-queerista wanted to hear more about A Good High, so I'll do that one as well!

A Good High is a one shot non-magic college roommate AU where Shepard leaves a pot brownie for Simon on what he thinks is his desk, but is actually Baz's desk. Baz thinks it's a normal brownie from Simon, eats it and gets really high by accident. Simon gets back to the dorm, finds Baz in his current state and has to turn Baz's bad high into a good one. Here's a snippet:

“Have you seen Ratatouille?” I ask as I set up my laptop at the foot of the bed. Baz is hugging his knees to his chest, but he’s lost that panicked look in his eyes. They look sleepy instead, droopy and dark like they are first thing in the morning (it’s very distracting). “I have four younger siblings, of course I’ve seen Ratatouille.” “Right, of course. Well, it always helps me relax, so it might help you,” I say as I make a fluffy pile of pillows to collapse against. “Just try to focus on the movie for a bit and let it melt your anxieties away.” The movie plays and I sit back, kick my feet up, I get immersed in Remi’s story as a start to feel the gummy kick in. I’m so relaxed that I almost forget about how Baz was feeling, but as soon as I do remember, I can’t seem to think of anything else. I watch him out of the corner of my eye. He’s watching the film and his breathing seems relaxed, but there’s something about his face that still looks raw, something about his posture that still seems on edge. I wish I could magically make this better for him. If he were anyone else I’d probably know what to do to cheer him up, but we’ve only just (kind of, sort of) started to get along. I don’t know if I’ve ever truly seen him relaxed before now that I think of it, he even looks tense while he sleeps. Maybe I should just ask him about what would help. “Psst, Baz, can I get you anything? Tea? Or a snack?” “No, I’m fine.” “A blanket?” “No.” He curls in on himself more and I mentally start kicking myself. Fuck, I’m making it worse. I wrack my brains for an idea to make this better, ignoring the little voice in my head telling me to leave well enough alone. Maybe if I got him to laugh that might get him out of this funk. “How about a cuddle then?” It was supposed to be a joke, but I can’t manage to laugh at it. My heart is beating out of my chest as the words leave my mouth. It’s a silly notion, the two of us cuddling, and I know it's something he’d never go for. And part of me is still hoping he’ll think it’s funny and he’ll break into a smile as he laughs it off, but the other part of me is desperate for him to say yes.

And @roomwithanopenfire wanted to hear about my untitled Gareth/Rhys fic, so I'll do that one too

This one is fairly new actually. It's kind of inspired by an outfit of mine actually. A lot of people who have met me IRL will probably have seen me in this, but I like to call it my Gareth as a slutty queer woman cosplay; a black crop top, black short shorts, and a brown belt with a white jaguar enamel belt buckle. I was wearing it recently and thinking about Gareth and thinking about a fem Gareth (I call her Gi in this) wielding the magic thrusting belt buckle, and then I started to write this. It's a getting together story about Gareth and Rhys with mutual pining. It starts with the two of them in their room, unpacking and settling into the space for their 8th year. Gi has her skirt tucked into her underpants and it's a whole thing for Rhys. Here's a snippet:

I can feel myself blush down to my toes. Thankfully, Gi discovers the state of her skirt and is distracted from seeing the full state of my complexion. “Has it been tucked in this whole time?” “Pretty much,” I wince. She snorts and then giggles as she unbuttons the thing and kicks it underneath her bed. I try to keep my eyes above her waist. “I hope my grandma saw. It’s what she deserves for insisting I ‘dress like a lady’ in her presence.” She’s stepping into her school trousers now, she has to do a little wiggle jump to get them over her thick thighs (it’s poetry in the making). “She has seen how you cast spells, right? Surely trousers should be the least of her worries.” “I wear the buckle as a bracelet when the old bat’s visiting. Mum says she has ‘a poor constitution’ and I’ll ‘send her to an early grave’ if I try thrusting spells around her.” Gi does a poor imitation of her mother’s voice, playing up the theatrics for my entertainment. I watch her as she lovingly threads her belt through each of the loops on her trousers, it’s like watching a superhero put on their suit for the very first time. She does a turn in front of the mirror, smiles at her reflection, and then shoots finger guns at herself. I can’t help but smile too. I’m so in love with her, it hurts.

And here’s my belt buckle that inspired this:

I think most of you have already posted yours for the day, but I'll tag: @bookish-bogwitch @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @aristocratic-otter @roomwithanopenfire @stitchy-queerista @artsyunderstudy @noblecorgi @monbons @rimeswithpurple @ileadacharmedlife @facewithoutheart

[azsazz]

To My Heart

Knox x Reader

Summary: Anon Request: Oh my gosh Knox is so adorable he has my heart and the head canon that he writes letters to his mate makes my heart melt

Warnings: None

Word Count: 759

Notes: You guys he’s just so cute 😭

_________________________________________

Knox sighs, head propped on curled fists as he watches the night sky. He’s leaned across the deep stone of his balcony, and as much as seeing the smattering of stars and the bright moon hanging high above him calms the male, he’s buzzing with nerves.

He’s tired, beyond so but he can’t sleep, and won’t until she writes him back.

His mate. The word still makes his heart rush in his chest, and he curls his fingers around the pen he’d been playing with to expel his nervous energy. His book sits open and abandoned on the lounger behind him, sketchbook tossed to the side in frustration because he couldn’t get the curve of her lips just right. Loose papers ruffle in the wind from where they’re pinned under the weight of his supplies, a gentle flutter that reflects the pounding of his heart.

Gods, he must be crazy, he thinks, pushing himself away from the overhang. Knox paces the short distance, stretching his wings as if that might stave off some of the nervous energy zipping through his body. She could be asleep, and for a fleeting moment he thinks he might just run and jump off the balcony to find out for himself. He doesn’t want to scare her away when she hardly knows the truth.

But he’d felt her amusement ringing down the bond as he read his letter. Or he assumed she was reading his letter. She could be doing several things instead; baking those treats she seems to like or maybe she’s also reading, lost in the adventures of her novel, not noticing the letter delivered on a bed of darkness.

His hands have a tremor to them, and he stuffs them into his pockets instead, rolling his eyes when his twin’s voice rings through his mind.

What are you doing? Go to sleep.

I can’t, he sends back, trying not to sound defeated. He doesn’t have an excuse, can’t think of one because he truly is bone tired after the day he’s had, training with his father and uncles this morning until noon before he’d been dragged out with Baz for drinks by the Sidra. That, had turned into his older brother stark naked in the cold waters, flirting with a wraith whose red, hot cheeks could’ve boiled the river dry.

Well, all that thinking is bothering me, she responds, and Knox knows his sister is scowling. It makes his lips twitch into a smile, her banter helping to distract him. And some of us need our beauty sleep.

He snorts. I didn’t know my twin was replaced with Zuz. Tell me sister, no midnight rendezvous? He knows she’s been sneaking out just as much as he has lately, and even though his shadows are shared with his sister and he can talk into her mind, even he doesn’t know where she slinks off to in the late hours of the night.

Not tonight, Malos yawns lazily and he cringes because he hates when she does that in his mind. Now fuck off and go to bed.

Love you too, Mal, Knox says, rolling his eyes once more as he feels the strong, steel shield of her mind slides back into place.

And then Knox is pacing again. Maybe he should go for a fly, the open air always makes him feel better. But if she does write him back then he might miss it and that’s the last thing he wants.

His attention is drawn to a whisper of darkness drifting across the night sky like its own cloud of black. It shrouds the moon as it passes and his heart jumps once, twice. Knox all but snatches the neatly folded paper from the grasp of night. He takes a deep breath and can smell her on it. It makes him shiver, like she’s right there with him, the scent of stardust and sugar invading his senses.

The flourish of her writing makes his heart ache. How delicate the curves of her letters are, how light, so the ink doesn’t seep through the paper, the thought she’d gone through to make it look so perfect for him. He traces the letters of his name idly, a small smile pulling at the corners of his lips as he stares, heart calm in his chest as he fingers over the shape of the heart, hastily drawn and still wet, as if she drew it and sent it off before she could change her mind.

Knox takes a deep breath and opens the letter.

[philaet0s]

Celebrity/Social Media AU - Part 26

Previous Part: Part 25

Next Part: Part 27

back to tweets in the next part!

Simon

A cottage in the middle of the woods. If you’d asked me where I thought Baz was taking me, this would have never been my guess. After spending his entire childhood in a huge, isolated manor, without ever seeing people unless his dad took him to the nearest town, a twenty-minute drive away, let’s say he’s not a fan of secluded places. He likes people and the business of cities.

And he likes luxury hotels. It’s very strange for him to have booked something like this. I ask him about it.

“I’ve been spending my life between the jet and busy cities for the past few months. Reconnecting with nature couldn’t hurt. And you like it, don’t you? I can perfectly picture you frolicing in the garden,” he comments, in a teasing tone, as he looks out the large bay windows that open on ‘the garden’.

That word does not do justice to the large outdoor space this place has. I can’t even see the limits of it from here.

“I am excited to go around the garden,” I answer with a smile.

“I knew it.”

…

Baz has decided that we should have a picnic for lunch. My argument that it’s November, therefore absolutely not the right time of year for a picnic, doesn’t stop him. Neither does my argument that we don’t have any food, and that I was thinking we would rely on delivery services for our trip, as always when we’re away from home. (Right, we do rely on delivery a lot when we’re at home too, but that’s beside the point.)

So there we are. On our way to the nearest grocery store, to get food for our picnic.

Groceries are always a fun experience with Baz. His parents have tons of people working for them, including a cook who is the one doing most of the grocery shopping as he is also the one making most of the meals, and though he has lived alone in the past, a majority of his meals were takeaway or delivery so he never had to worry about groceries then either. Then he had a boyfriend who, as far as he told me, was in charge of food. Now… He has me for that. I’d never trust him with my shopping list.

But, on occasion, I do take him to the shop with me, and I get to watch him walk the aisles like a child in the zoo, marvelling at everything around himself. And putting a shit ton of crap in our cart.

Every word out of my mouth is full of skepticism as I watch the items he grabs. “Do we need four different bars of chocolate?” “It’s November. Why would we buy ice cream? It’s going to melt before we’re back at the cottage anyway.” “You know we can’t survive on sweets only, right?” “We also can’t survive on cheese only.” “You do know that strawberries are not in season, right? Put that back. Here, let’s have some pears if you want fruit.” “Is the hummus really necessary?” “So we’re buying a family-size box of cereal for… 2 days?”

I do put back some of the things he’s added to our cart, but most of it stays. He doesn’t do this often, and it makes him happy. I don’t have the heart to stop him. Besides, it’s not like it’ll go to waste. We’ll bring anything we haven’t eaten here back home.

I’m a little concerned that most of our groceries are not things his dietician would recommend while he’s on tour, but I keep those concerns to myself. I can see him turning my question into a comment about his weight from a mile away. It’s a sensitive spot for him… Which is absurd. He’s put on a few pounds since the beginning of his tour and he’s still slimmer than I’ve been in years. Yet, he never seemed to have issues with my weight. Quite the opposite.

He can have junk food for two days. It’s not like I’m going to tell on him.

As we’re emptying our cart on the belt at checkout, a hesitant voice speaks his name.

I was wondering if that was going to happen.

Surprisingly enough, Baz doesn’t get recognised that often when he’s out and about. Of course, it happens, but far less than what I expected when I met him. He told me it happens more when he’s in the US. Maybe it’s just that a majority of his fans don’t live in the UK.

We both turn to look at the voice. It belongs to a girl, who’s probably only a couple of years younger than us, with her hair bleached so much that it looks white and tons of piercings on her face. Her hair is shaved above her ears and she has tattoos there, that make her look like an elf in a fantasy movie. She’s very pretty.

“Hello, I’m sorry to come onto you like this, I hope I’m not bothering you, I totally understand if this is annoying, but if you don’t mind, could I have a picture with you?”

At least she’s polite. (A bit too polite, the poor girl sounds anxious). Some people don’t even say ‘hello’ before they ask for a picture.

Baz smiles at her kindly. “Sure. What’s your name?”

“Alice.”

“Okay.” He turns to me. “Can I let you handle the groceries? It’s almost our turn.”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Thank you. Alice, do you want to go outside for that picture? It might look nicer than with those aisles in the background.

“Oh. Uh. Yeah. I mean, I need to… uh…” She holds up the groceries in her hand. “Pay.”

“Well, then, let’s all pay for our groceries, and then you can have your picture.”

She nods. “Y-Yeah.”

Poor girl. She looks like she might faint.

The lady at checkout looks mildly annoyed with us. With all that chatting, we haven’t finished putting our groceries down and she’s already checked everything else out. We hurry with the rest of our things, then Baz pays. I don’t even argue about it. There was a time when I would have. I don’t like when people pay things for me, but after a while I understood that that was one of the ways in which Baz showed love –I guess that’s what happened when you grow up in a family where you received many gifts but no affection. When I seemed annoyed that he was paying for me again, he would take it very personally. Like it was him I was rejecting and not his offer to spend his money on me.

Besides, he’s rich as hell. He can pay for things.

My contribution is paying for our bills. It makes the most sense since I’m the one who’s at home most of the time, anyway.

We head out of the shop, soon followed by the girl, Alice. She looks incredibly flustered. It’s kind of cute. She clumsily searches for her phone in her tote bag. It’s the sort of behaviour I’m more used to seeing in Baz’s teenage fans.

I offer to take the picture for them, both because it generally looks better than selfies and because that poor girl is so emotional she might not be able to get a good picture. She accepts with a grateful smile, handing me her phone. They pause, I click. Picture taken. Alice thanks me when she takes back her phone, which she quickly drops inside her bag.

“Thank you so much,” she tells Baz, waving her hands in front of her face and blinking fast, like she might cry. “I’m… Sorry, it’s just… I really love your music. It got me through very hard times and I… It’s really a big deal for me. Seeing you. I… If I may take one more minute of your time. I have a tattoo. Inspired by one of your songs. I wanted to show you, if that’s okay.”

“I’d love to see it,” Baz answers.

I wonder how that feels like for him. Someone loving his lyrics so much that they get them tattooed on their body. It’s not a rare occurrence, I see people post their Baz Pitch tattoos on Twitter regularly, but I don’t know if he’s ever seen one in real life. He doesn’t get much interaction with his fans.

Alice pulls up the sleeve of her coat and top to show Baz the inside of her forearm. There, she has a broken violin tattooed, and from what I can see, lyrics from his song Precipice. It’s from the album of Baz’s I listen to the least –Portrait of the Artist as a Madman– because it was written when he was at a very low point in his life and the feelings he expresses in it always make me tear up after a song or two.

“That is not my most cheerful song,” Baz comments, almost teasingly.

“I love your sadder songs more. You have a way of describing feelings and experiences in just a few words that is so… raw and real, but lyrical at the same time. Some of your songs could be poems, it’s… brilliant.”

“Some of my songs were written as poems.”

“I know! I study English at university and the first time I heard In Fairness I lost my mind, I had to listen to it a second time immediately to make sure I wasn’t going crazy and that you had written a song in iambic pentameter! It’s a prowess, really, that you were capable of taking that poetic form and putting it to song, and it’s such a lovely homage to the tradition of poetry and singing being intertwined. And it was such a risk! That’s an unusual way of putting stress in a sentence, it gives an odd rhythm to the song, but… it works so well. And… I talked too much. I’m so, sorry. I’ll leave you now. Thank you so much for your time, it was absolutely brilliant getting to chat with you.”

“Hey, slow down. You just gave me all these compliments and you’re going to walk away without giving me a chance to thank you?”

She flushes.

“I’m very touched to see how much you seem to appreciate my art, and I’m glad you were so impressed by my… bold songwriting decision on In Fairness. The general opinion on that song is that it’s terrible, so it’s quite pleasant hearing someone say something positive about it.”

Oh, to hear Baz talk about his music. I must have the same adoring look on my face as Alice…

Simon and Baz going grocery shopping is actually so special to me, I’ve written so many scenes of then at the grocery shop lol (it’s because I’m obsessed with grocery shops)

[rosecoloreddesire]

The Hold You Have Upon Me

Summary: Your best friend Olivia gets you in on her big role in a new movie and you gladly accept the offer. Little did you know the job had a lot more to offer than it lead on.

Note: I’m so sorry for being so inactive! Please forgive me y’all! Should this be my first Austin series??? But the new pics from behind the scenes??? LORD HAVE MERCY!

Part 2

Warning: FLUFF! Also I only read through this twice so I’m sorry for any errors!!

“Y/N, c’mon! You’re doing great! I’m so proud of you for being here for me.” Olivia wraps her arms around you in a warm embrace.

“You know I wouldn’t have denied being an extra in an Elvis movie,” Olivia rolls her eyes as her makeup finishes,” and wouldn’t have denied seeing my best friend have the role of her life!” She smiles as the finishing touches are applied and twirls around.

“Time to line up, girly!” She takes your hand and leads you to set. The booming echo of the band thumps within your body as you watch Baz record them up close. Olivia tugs on your arm and points at the corner of the set. There he was.

“Holy shit, Liv. He’s Adonis…” you hadn’t had the time to see Austin as Elvis yet. The sight of his tanned skin adorned in black leather pulling the air from your lungs. She laughs and pats your back as a set manager pulls her away from you. You can’t keep your eyes off of him as workers surround him to make sure he looks perfect. That shouldn’t be too hard you think. His cobalt eyes are stoic as he finally catches you staring. His smirk eliciting a squeak from your lips as you go to find the same set manager that stole Olivia away from you.

“Got enough of gawking Mr. Butler in for one day?” Mia asks as you walk up next her. You sigh and rub your hands on your face.

“He saw me and probably thinks I’m a freak.” She cackles as she’s reads the list in front of her. She pulls you along with her.

“Well, this freak is front of stage. Have fun, love.” You whip your head to glare at Mia.

“‘Mia?! Are you kidding me? This is insane! Please, put me closer to the back or something.” Mia shrugged her shoulders and looked through the papers on her clipboard. You try to look over her to no avail.

“They dressed you up just like the girl in the original ‘68 comeback that sits right there! Soooo, no can do, love!” She waves at you as you sit down. He’s going to be dancing right in front of you. You place a hand on the stage and drag your fingers on it softly. This is insane.

“Good luck, Y/N. You got this!” Olivia looks beautiful as she shakes your shoulders.

“Knock ‘em dead, Priscilla.” She smiles and gives you a quick kiss on the cheek. You smooth your skirt down as other extras begin to fill in next to you. Your heart begins to beat out of your chest as Baz calls for action.

“And here he is, Mister Elvis Presley!” The applause sign lights up as you begin to clap. Ignoring the total arousal that seeps through you as you see him begin to bend to grasp his guitar. He sits down and begins to sing and your heart all but melts. You could see he put everything into becoming Elvis and he looked just like him. You could feel tears well in your eyes as you remembered watching Elvis with your grandma when you were younger. Never understanding why she’d get so emotional. Now here you were seeing double. You smile as the song comes to an end and wipe your eyes. Baz calling cut so that he could move things around for a better shot. He smiles at you as he makes his way to Austin. You nod and turn to where Olivia is sitting. She shapes a heart with her hands and you return it as you take a deep breath.

“Quick touch up break!” Makeup artists swarm in as cast members make their ways to chairs. Some stay seated and some grab something to snack on. You watch as Austin sits down panting as staff use towels to lightly dab onto his face. He smiles and his lips curl as he listens to Baz and his flailing hands.

“Hey, why don’t you just try talking to him?” Mia startled you, your hand shooting to your chest. She grabs onto your shoulder as you grasp your surroundings again.

“M-Mia, I’m one of how many extras trying to get to know him? Give me a break! Not gonna happen-“ you choke on your last words as you make eye contact with the aforementioned man. His gaze could pierce stone as you squirm in your seat. He nods to the artist powdering his face and he rises from his chair.

“Welp, I gotta go! Have fun, darling!”

“Hey, you’re Olivia’s friend right,” you nod as your throat dries,” I’ve seen you on her Insta page. You’re uh, you look gorgeous.” Your eyes widen as does his.

“Thank y-“

“ I’m sorry if that was weird, darlin’.” His voice lowering as he rubs the back of his neck. You laugh, shaking your head.

“No,” your voice squeaking, you clear your throat,” no! Um, I think you’re gorgeous too.”

“It’s just the get up, I feel.”

“I mean the get up is a plus-“

“A plus? You really like it that much, doll?” He stepped a little closer to you. You move back a little scared he’ll hear the pounding of your heart. You place a hand on your chest as your cheeks flush.

“Austin,” his hand slips around your waist as his other hand rests tenderly against your cheek. His fingers softly move against the soft skin,” I-I do.” You splutter out meekly.

“Good. ‘Cause I’m really liking the get up you got goin’ on to.” Before you can say your weak attempt at a joke his soft lips are upon yours. His grip slowly tightens as you sigh into the kiss. You rest your hands on his chest as you feel your legs begin to weaken. His entire being yearns to be as close to as possible. He pulls away and uses the hand still on your cheek to move your face to the side. His lips finding solace betwixt your jaw and neck. You begin to giggle as he hums against your skin.

“A-Aus, what are you doing? You’re gonna have to go on soon.” He continues to hum into your skin. Not leaving any marks but leaving a slight tingle in his tracks.

“They can wait, darlin’. I just can’t get enough of you.” His phone buzzes in his pocket as he finishes his rasping speech.

“I don’t think they want to.” You wink as he pulls away from you with a pout. You stand to your tippy toes and lay a chaste kiss to his nose. His skin flushing pink within seconds.

“I’ll find you after, Y/N.” He holds your hand until ultimately he has to let it go. You sigh heavily and lean against the wall as you collect your thoughts.

“That was….adorable!!!” Olivia squeals and wraps her arms around your shoulders. You yelp and she covers your mouth.

“How could you?! Did you see all of that?!” You take her hand off your mouth.

“Hey! I was tasked to come find Elvis and found Elvis I did!” She wiggles her eyebrows as you groan. You both make your way back to set. Your seat open in the front of the stage as he winks at you from it. You take Olivia’s arm.

“I’m not sitting back up there. I just kissed him and I gotta act like that didn’t happen?” You groan once more as Olivia shrugs.

“Hey, at least it’ll help with the fan girl in love look.” She smiles as she leads you back to your seat.

“Liv, I feel like I’m gonna hurl.”

[orange-peony]

For the trope mash-up: I used a random number generator and got

8: Hospital AU

And

63: Everybody Knows/Mistaken for Couple

And I think those would make a great lil snowbaz AU!!

Thank you sooo much for your ask and sorry it took absolute ages!

“Baz, you’re needed in room three,” Niall says, looking like he hasn’t slept in two days (he probably hasn’t). “Your boyfriend managed to get another injury for the sole purpose of coming to snog you.”

“Snow is not my boyfriend!” I reply for the umpteenth time, but my legs are already moving faster than I thought my tiredness would allow.

What the fuck has he done this time?

“Baz, Simon has come to see you! What a lovely surprise,” Ebb proclaims with a smile as I walk past her. She also probably hasn’t slept (or showered) in ages, but she somehow never loses her lovely manners and sweetness. “You know, he always says he was a terrible boyfriend to Agatha, but it’s so nice to see how much he’s changed.”

“Oh, I can confirm he was a shit boyfriend,” Agatha comments drily while she makes a poor man wail in pain as she changes his dressing. 

“Still not my boyfriend,” I declare, deciding to ignore them.

Room three is just at the end of the corridor. I calm down when I hear him chatting cheerfully with the nurse on duty—it’d better not be Smith-Richards, that fucking flirt. 

“Oh, hello Baz!” Snow greets me with a grin, his cheek smudged with something that I hope is just dirt. My eyes go automatically for his arm, which is carefully being tended by Pippa (thank god it’s her). 

The cut looks pretty deep, but nothing life-threatening. I sigh in relief and tell Pippa she can go. 

“When are you going to stop being such a reckless idiot?” I ask as a greeting, and he produces his usual apologetic smile, not even batting an eyelid when I start cleaning the wound, trying to be as delicate as I can.

“Baz! Your boyfriend’s come to visit you!” Dev exclaims after popping his head in with a shit-eating grin. “Don’t forget—no hanky-panky at work.”

“I’m not a horny incubus like you and Niall,” I reply, my eyes fixed on Snow’s wound. I don’t want him to have a scar. Not another one. Those butchers who treated him before I met him made such a shit job at patching him up. But I’m going to make sure that no one else gets their hands on him. “And we’re not together.”

“No need to lie,” Dev says dismissively before he leaves us alone.  

“I was hoping you were going to be in,” he murmurs before I warn him that the anaesthetic is going to sting. He grimaces but makes no sound, a loud intake of breath is all I get for an injection in a spot that would make even the burliest men swear out loud. 

“How did it happen this time?” I ask, my tone probably harsher than I meant for it to come out. My eyes leave his wound to meet his gaze, and he smiles at me, licking his lips.

“It was actually Gareth’s fault,” he comments easily. “But I’ve got to admit I was a bit distracted. Someone was telling me about this concert. It’s the symphonic orchestra, and they’re doing this thing at Watford theatre on Saturday evening. I was thinking…would—shall I take you to see them? Hear them? I’ve never been to a concert before…”

My hands still, our eyes locking as I stare at him with my mouth open like a fish out of water.

This sounds like a date.

Is this meant to be a date?

“Baz, I’m going to lunch,” Niall calls from the corridor. “How long are you going to be with your boyfriend?”

“Very long!” I reply, and Snow’s uncertain expression slowly melts into a grin.

Is he actually my boyfriend?

“I mean, when we went to IKEA together,” he starts tentatively, “you said you play the violin. That you like classical music.”

“I did,” I confirm, still unsure if he’s asking me out.

“And the last time we went to the cinema, I picked the film,” he adds, “so it’s only fair that this time we do something you like. I mean, t-t-that is if you want to come—”

“Of course, I want,” I reply, so fast that I almost give myself whiplash. “Pick me up at seven. We can go to dinner first, if you want…”

His smile makes my heart melt like an icicle in the sun.

“It’s a date,” he says.   

Fuck, Snow is my boyfriend.

[martsonmars]

Happy Wednesday friends! And thanks @hushed-chorus and @imagineacoolusername for the tags!

Fic writing is still going steadily, I hope I'll be able to start posting this by the end of the week. Have a snippet:

“Why wouldn't you name the fucking horse at some point? What's the bloody point?”

I sink my teeth into my bottom lip not to laugh. If I'd known he'd get so worked up about this song I would've blasted my emotional support playlist in the office long ago.

“Dunno,” I say. “I guess there's something about anonymity and not having anything to tie you to a place, or a person, or a horse. Naming the horse is like giving it a piece of yourself, isn't it?” Uh. I didn't even know I had thoughts about this. “Like you're admitting it's important enough to deserve something that makes it special and worth remembering.”

And another:

“Christ,” I say. I bump my feet against his under the table, slide it until we're ankle to ankle. “You can't tell me things like this when I'm trying so hard not to—not to fuck it all up.”

Baz's unreadable mask crumbles a bit, a frown slipping through the cracks. “Simon…”

“I know, I know.” My hand flies to the back of my neck. I need a haircut. “I know we can't do this, and we can't even think about this, but I can't—do you—how am I supposed to—”

Baz lines his pinkie with mine on the table, not touching it. “Simon, I don't—”

“You feel it too, right?”

His frown melts into a smile. Small, uncertain, but a smile. Then his phone starts ringing.

No bonus email today :( but tags under the cut <3

@wellbelesbian @sillyunicorn @facewithoutheart @palimpsessed @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @forabeatofadrum @johnwgrey @fatalfangirl @confused-bi-queer @bookish-bogwitch @letraspal @cutestkilla @ileadacharmedlife @bazzybelle @aroace-genderfluid-sheep @ivelovedhimthroughworse @artsyunderstudy @orange-peony @ic3-que3n @whogaveyoupermission @larkral @shrekgogurt @raenestee @onepintobean @stitchyqueer @technetiumai @brilla-brilla-estrellita @thewholelemon @theimpossibledemon @j-nipper-95 @sosoapi @blackberrysummerblog @yellobb @theearlgreymage @rimeswithpurple @messofthejess @whatevertheweather @nightimedreamersworld @moodandmist @dragoneggos @takitalks @gekkoinapeartree @captain-aralias @ionlydrinkhotwater @erzbethluna @chen-chen-chen-again-chen @jbrrring @shemakesmeforget

[curlsinthewind]

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

________________

It’s quiet.

And then. 

Crash.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And it’s cold.

And then.

It’s not.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Good night, Baz.”

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

“Good night, Simon.”

[blackberrysummerblog]

WIP Wednesday

I dream of someday having the energy to make a banner😂. I should probably worry more about finishing my WIPs though! Thank you for tagging me this morning @hushed-chorus!

I wrote a little more following the bit of my crucible marriage au posted on Sunday, which I would link to but I’m on my phone just before work. Anyway, this is the next morning, Simon POV. It needs some cleaning up as I wrote it without doing any editing, but I’m still having fun so I hope you enjoy! Excerpt and tags under the cut :)

Merlin, I feel rested. I’ve felt rested every morning since coming here. I’ve got to remember to ask Baz about this bed. There must be some charm on it because I’ve never been an easy sleeper.

I should be sore, too, after the beating I took from the river trolls. I know there must have been a bruise on my face when I came home last night. (Home, ha.) I remember feeling my jaw throb as I thumped my way upstairs. There’s nothing there now.

I’m kneeling up on the bed and touching my face in confusion when Baz steps out of the en suite and ruins my life by being dressed only in a towel. “Oh,” he says, freezing in place under my slack-jawed stare. “I thought you’d still be asleep.”

Fuck. It’s weird to think how often I’ve felt his body—pressed up against me in the hallway or the bed, or under me in the grass, over me on the couch—he’s so familiar that my hands actually feel warm from the memory when I look at him, and yet it’s new to see him half-naked.

Oh no. Suddenly I remember. “Did I...flop on top of you when I got home last night?”

Baz still looks stunned, like a deer in the headlights, but he nods silently just the same. Christ. “I’m sorry,” I mumble, tugging at my hair. It’s still so strange that nothing hurts. I always hurt after a mission. “Wait. Did you heal me?”

Baz shrugs, lifting the shoulder of the hand that’s affixed to the edge of the towel around his waist. A drop of water is sliding down his neck so slowly that it’s actually wrecking me. “You weren’t too bad,” he says finally, his voice dry, as though I’m doing something to him, too. I can’t be, though, it’s just me. And I’m fully dressed anyway, unlike some people I could mention. “Mostly you were just filthy, but I spelled you clean as well.”

“Oh.” I don’t know what to say to that, not really. I wish he’d get dressed. No, I wish he’d just lose the towel and get back in bed. I wish he’d throw himself on top of me like I did to him last night. Maybe without the immediately falling asleep part, though. “Thanks. And...I’m sorry.”

Just like that, whatever unfamiliar discomfort seems to have held him to the floor melts away, and Baz visibly relaxes. “What for?” he asks, making for the closet.

“For collapsing on top of you like a bag of bones,” I say, turning to follow him with my gaze. The closet is beside the bed, so I can’t see him once he goes inside. I almost get up to follow him in, but manage to restrain myself. “For...not taking a shower, at least. For not lying on my own side of the bed.”

Baz pokes his head out of the door, one eyebrow raised. “You never do, Snow. Nothing new there.”

“Hey! I’ve woken up with you all over me a couple of times as well, you know!”

A grin flashes across his face, gone so quick I’m not sure if I’ve imagined it, but then he winks and disappears inside the closet again. “Be a little less warm and comfortable,” he suggests.

He’s flirting with me. I don’t know why it seems bizarre. Baz must like me in that way, at least a little bit, if all the snogging is anything to go by. I sit on the side of the bed, hands gripping the edge of the mattress between my knees. “So does that mean I’m forgiven?” I ask when he emerges in slim dark trousers and yet another silk shirt—today it’s a pale pink with grayish green leaves. I try not to smile as he heads straight for me, stopping just shy of nudging up between my legs.

“There’s nothing to forgive.” I can’t get over how gently Baz is looking at me, his eyes caressing my cheek moments before his hand follows suit. “I don’t like thinking of you hurt, Snow.”

“‘M used to it.” It’s true enough; I never come back from any of the Mage’s missions without at least a few bumps and bruises—or worse, dislocations or breaks. One time, a nearly detached thumb.

Baz frowns, the furrow between his brows so distracting that I almost miss him saying, “I don’t like that you’re used to it.”

“It’s what I’m for,” I object, leaning back and shaking his hand away from my face.

“I fucking think not.” Baz’s jaw clenches, his eyes dark as storm clouds now in his pale, angular face. “You don’t belong to the Mage, Simon.”

It’s him calling me Simon that does it; any time he brings up the Mage I’m ready to fight, but that takes the wind completely out of my sails. My tail had begun twitching back and forth furiously while we spoke, but now it curls around Baz’s knee—I’m afraid that since I shook his hand away, he’ll leave. I know my voice is barely audible as I look up at him. “Who do I belong to then, Baz?”

“Me!” He grimaces and shakes his head. “I didn’t mean that. Yourself, obviously. You don’t belong to me; I don’t know why I said that, Snow.”

“Because you’re my husband? Don’t we belong to each other now, Baz? At least in some way.”

Baz scowls, but he doesn’t try to walk away. Instead, he puts his hands on his hips. “For a certainty I don’t need some fool in green tights treating my husband like a disposable rag. You were in a state when you finally dragged yourself in last night, Snow.”

I sit up, giving him a half smile. “You said I wasn’t that bad,” I remind him, sliding my hands up his waist in a way that I hope is at least a little soothing. “I know I wasn’t good for much when I came in.”

Baz throws his hands in the air and makes an exasperated noise. “I don’t need you to be good for anything! I need you to be unharmed! I need you to be safe, Simon. Would you like it if our positions were reversed?”

Have a great day everyone! Tagging @palimpsessed @cutestkilla @onepintobean @valeffelees @artsyunderstudy @ionlydrinkhotwater @ebbpettier @confused-bi-queer @aceumbrellaheroes @aroace-genderfluid-sheep @letraspal @aristocratic-otter @bazzybelle @sailorblossoms @whogaveyoupermission @ivelovedhimthroughworse @bookish-bogwitch @ileadacharmedlife @thehoneyedhufflepuff @martsonmars @fatalfangirl @facewithoutheart @larkral @theearlgreymage @fucking-gay-frogs and anyone else who’d like to share!

[aristocratic-otter]

Hello friends. Is it me, posting before midnight on a Sunday?

It is! The benefits of being on break for the last week. But it's back to the grind tomorrow, sigh.

Thank you to @blackberrysummerblog, @you-remind-me-of-the-babe, @captain-aralias, @facewithoutheart, @artsyunderstudy, @thehoneyedhufflepuff, @j-nipper-95 @larkral and @hushed-chorus for the tags.

It's not yet midnight for me, but it's late for nearly everyone else. I'll send tags at least to other west coast peeps and hellos to a few other friends!

Tagging @palimpsessed, @fatalfangirl, @carryonsimoncarryonbaz, @yellobb-old, @frjsti, @bazzybelle, @bookish-bogwitch, @erzbethluna, @ic3-que3n, @ivelovedhimthroughworse, @moments-au-crayon22, @raenestee, @tea-brigade, @theearlgreymage, @twinkle-twinkle-up-above, @upuntil6am

Excerpts under the cut!

From: Saving Simon Snow (hopefully will start posting this week!)

“I just mean…well, we’re two eighteen year old blokes. It’s not like we’re going to be having a family to fill all that space. Doesn’t your family own anything…smaller?”

I chuckle. “I’m afraid not, Snow. Just the manor in Hampshire, the Hunting Lodge here, and a vacation home in the South of France. The Pitch family trust owns Fiona’s flat if you want to move into her spare bedroom,” I add, mischievously. 

He pales slightly and says, “Pass, thanks. I’d like to keep my bollocks where they are.” 

From my COBB for this year:

Baz is sitting at his desk, his back to me as I enter. He doesn’t even flinch when I slam the door shut behind me, just continues moving his pen across the page. Revising, as is his usual in the evenings. I swear Baz has no life outside of plotting against me. 

“Ha!” I shout. “Deny it now, fucker!”

Baz turns slowly, lifting his eyebrow at me. He doesn’t speak, but his expression says plenty. 

“Deny that you’ve gone ‘round the bend, Snow? You’re right, I truly can’t deny that.”

From: Westward Son

Physically, he’s tough as nails. But mentally, he’s like a wounded bird. And yeah, I know that’s an ironic description, given the wings and all. But when I look into his eyes lately, he reminds me of a wing-shot falcon I found in the fields once. Some hunter had brought the proud creature down for no fucking reason; it’s not like falcons are good eating. I’ll never forget the look on the bird's face. Fierce and feral, terrified and trapped. 

Simon’s eyes have looked like that lately.  

From: Raising Dragons

I think my theory about hormones and being overwrought has been borne out, because eventually, he’s cried out and lying limp against my chest, half dozing. I gently lower us to the bed, not ceasing my words or caresses, but the moment his head touches the pillow, his eyes pop open again. 

“How do you know?” he whispers to me. 

“How do I know what?”

“How do you know I’ll be a good father? How can you know that?”

I push him away from me enough that I can look into his eyes when I speak. “I know, Simon, because I know you.”

From: To Heal a Broken Mind:

“That—that really sucks, you know?” he mumbles into the fabric of my shirt. 

I smile a little, and say, “I assume you mean the seizure and not the snogging.”

Simon snorts a laugh and than smiles into my eyes. “The snogging was brilliant. I’d rather like to do it again.”

I can feel my chest swelling with happiness at that. “When we get home, we can discuss it,” I smirk at him, trying to hide the way I’m melting at his words.. 

“I’ll hold you to that,” he grins. “But maybe without the discussion part.”

From an extremely secret project (I can't believe I found a bit that was spoiler free enough to share!):

“Hello,” says a voice in what I’d call sultry tones, if I were fully human. Then the owner of the voice dissolves in giggles for a moment. A few seconds later, apparently recovering themselves, they continue. “We’re having a little bit of trouble. And a whole lot of fun. Won’t you come and…level up with us?” The smokiness of her tone over the words ‘level up’ make it a euphemism, I’m fairly sure. I’m not sure for what. For sexual congress perhaps? 

And, yes, once again I have six WIPs. But Dragons is nearly done and Saving Simon Snow is more than 2/3s done, so maybe I'll be down to five again soon? I still need to start my COTTA for this year!

[silkchiffon]

some of my simmosa headcanons:

amy does the aster flores thing where she has a look for whenever she wants to be kissed.

jonah has letterboxd. he also runs an account for amy (named “my girlfriend amy” which appropriately gets changed to “my wife amy” once they get married) that blows up because she has funny things to say about films but no patience to document them. meanwhile his account has the patron tier, over a thousand films logged, and cleverly articulated reviews with meticulous ratings but only 9 followers.

amy wore the ring that jonah stole to get her measurements a lot while she was in california. mostly as a reminder of the mistake she’ll inevitably understand that she made but also because it’s strangely comfortable to have on.

jonah started a podcast right after the breakup. he stopped recording episodes after accidentally letting marcus move in with him and i’ve got no idea what it would be about but i think he would set up the stupidly costly mic that he bought online in front of amy’s plants and pretend they were his audience.

amy gets super into video games again over the pandemic. in between binge watching shows and attending corporate meetings, she becomes a real acnh woman, much to the dismay of emma. when she and jonah get back together, she forces him to play lovers in a dangerous spacetime. they kill it at that game in spite of whatever argument might ensue.

a list of some shows i think jonah has watched: succession, severance, the west wing, the wire, lost, black mirror, charmed.

the recall room stayed even after they converted cloud 9 into a fulfillment center since no one else knew about it, so amy and jonah still sneak in there sometimes for the fun of it. when they visit dina and the others for the first time, they disappear after ten minutes and everybody thinks they either got lost or crushed by some packages. (let’s be honest, they’re having another town hall moment.)

couples costumes they would do: elizabeth and philip jennings, climate change (she’s a polar bear and he’s a melting ice cap), romeo and juliet (specifically from the baz luhrmann movie obviously, though this is based off an original script of the pilot that has a nod to the fish tank scene, even though it was actually between jonah and dina but that is not important.)

so they’ve both always absolutely been bi to me. it’s an unspoken thing at work for jonah, so amy is the first person he actually tells, voices aloud that this is who he is a person, and that’s what she’s signing up for when they finally start dating. and it gets gears turning in her head. this is a lot of projection on my end but i think amy looks back at the women she filed away as formative role models in her head and wonders whether there was something more there. remembers how she always thought someone like missy jones looked so gorgeous but thought that had more to do with being blinded by her talent. jonah helps amy figure out her feelings for women once he finds out she thought staring at them all the time was a normal thing to do.

they have the same taste in people. i have a whole episode made up in my mind about them figuring this out and the discovery spiraling to the point that they have everybody in the break room naming truly anyone to see if they both have a crush on the person or not. they have multiple whiteboards with the most complicated system ranking countless celebrities and the whole thing ends when jonah asks amy if she actually finds him attractive but she successfully avoids giving him an answer by making out with him. she does btw but she would never tell him because it would go to his head immediately and he would never let her live it down.

amy wearing name tags with different names every single day is her way of playing around with gender but nobody is ready for that conversation yet.

[lindszeppelin]

What i find funny is lowkey austin had wayyy more chemisty with

1) olivia dejonge like have you seen those two on the press tour? hm.

2) the little fling, or possible PR or whatever the fuck him and lily rose depp were bc those photos- im sleeping on the fucking highway.

I find it interesting that Baz stated Olivia and Austin had zero chemistry initially and he was worried that they wouldn't get passed it in order to film. They seem really cool with each other, i'm glad they eventually got the chemistry in the end lol

And yes! Those photos of him full on making out and groping the ass of Lily Rose after a dinner date with friends, and how he looked deep into her eyes as his hands held onto her face...my god. He was smitten. They were smokin hot in those pics. I'm surprised the pap camera lenses didn't melt.

That in particular gives me a lot of hope that when Austin finds his forever girl that he'll be expressing that deep level of PDA with her. He deserves it and I think he will.

[ivelovedhimthroughworse]

Rather A Lot of Sentences on this Sunday

Thanks for the tags today: @artsyunderstudy @aroace-genderfluid-sheep @takitalks! Great to see your projects!

icymi: I've posted the epilogue of Fallen From the Sky with Grace! Link

When will I have another Sunday post? Not this year. So I figured, may as well do way more than six sentences. Baz's POV:

Dev’s mooning over a girl that he swears is the one: the woman of his dreams. Every other sentence is about this paragon of beauty. Finally, he thinks to ask me if I felt this way about my ‘freckled wretch’. “Not this way. I was never this tediously repetitive when talking about Simon.” Niall has a chip mid-way to his mouth, but at my words he misses and shuts his teeth on empty air. Dev looks at me, nonplussed, then starts roaring with laughter. Niall joins in and throws his chip at me. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” “You? YOU?” “How many years did we have to hear about his bathroom habits?” “Oh Crowley, remember when you were so affronted that Simon had those boring, unremarkable blue eyes! If he’d been born with pretty green eyes like Sara, you’d’ve written sonnets!” “I wasn’t that bad!” (This is the third time he’s mentioned her eyes. It’s so disgustingly sweet that I’ll need to floss when I leave.) Fortunately at that point, my mobile pings. lemme know when ur on ur way :) I look at Dev and Niall. They look amused. “Time for you to go?” “Of course it is. You always make this face when it's Simon. I bet you're melting over an aubergine emoji right now.”

Since I won't be posting again, Happy Holidays friends! All the best to you for the new year! (And to anyone not tagged here too! I hit my limit of 50!)

@aristocratic-otter @basiltonbutliketheherb @bazzybelle @bloodiedpixie @bookish-bogwitch @bucketfishy @captain-aralias @confused-bi-queer @cutestkilla @dragoneggos @diningpagentry @excalisbury @facewithoutheart @fatalfangirl @fight-surrender @forabeatofadrum @foolofabookwyrm-activated @gekkoinapeartree @hushed-chorus @ileadacharmedlife @ionlydrinkhotwater @ic3-que3n @jbrrring @johnwgrey @krisrix @letraspal @martsonmars @moodandmist @nightimedreamersworld @onepintobean @otherworldsivelivedin @palimpsessed @prettylightsbigcity @raenestee @scone-lover @shemakesmeforget @sillyunicorn @starwarned @stardustasincocaine @tea-brigade @technetiumai @urban-sith @wellbelesbian @whogaveyoupermission @whatevertheweather @you-remind-me-of-the-babe

[sleepdeprivedphilosopher]

snow for christmas was lovely! I swear every time simon calls baz babe I just melt. 💕 he does it so casually too! like you can tell he isn’t thinking about it. it’s just that’s his babe! ya know? what else is he going to call him lol

(spoilers under here)

ahhhhh they were so cute. but much as I enjoyed snow for christmas (and honestly all the other short stories were v cute too. I have a bias but I can admire cute relationships when I see em) it does disappoint me because now I just want more content lol

like give me more of baz showing his family who he is and no longer hiding behind a cold imitation of his father. like when simon was comparing how baz was last time he spent christmas with them and how baz is now you can really see how much baz has grown into himself and how proud simon is of him. gosh he loves him so much. they love each other so much. ahhh I miss them 

also also I want more of simon getting his own family. and I love how he doesn’t have to deal with any judgement from his uncle and his grandmother like they just accept him and love him so so much. simon deserves that especially since all throughout his childhood he has been fighting so hard to find a place of his own where people accept him! seriously there’s no hesitation when simon invites baz to spend christmas with them he is completely secure in lady ruth’s acceptance of him and their relationship. there’s no doubt there at all! 

speaking of acceptance that conversation that baz and simon have about baz’s mother and how baz is so certain she never would have accepted him. either of his identities. just “hey you don’t know how she’d react” and “I can imagine” and the fact that simon just says "imagine that she would have kept growing....her mind would have changed about all sorts of things” like there is so much hope there and such a strong belief in the ability for people to change! this is a completely different simon from the one we saw before when he was convinced that he would never be able to truly change or get better. simon believes in change now. he has hope for the future. (like baz: we could be married with kids. simon: could we? ahhh)

gosh this whole story was really about people changing wasn’t it? like malcom and daphne inviting simon for christmas. letting what happened in the past go and trying to focus on making their son feel accepted for who is he, even if it is going to be a slow process they are trying! and the whole scene with baz eating in front of his family and finally showing them how much he has changed from the scared cold boy he was before. like he’s showing who he is! that he has control of his demons and they are just so fucking happy for him. so fucking happy to just share a meal with him! gahh my heart man. and just seeing how supportive of each other baz and simon are now. they seem to be settled finally. like they always kiss goodbye and have regular conversations about their feelings? that is so fucking cute. wayward son could never. 

anywayyy gosh I did not mean for this post to be this long. considering how short the story was I did not realize I had this much to say. but in conclusion I loved it v much and I am v happy to see that simon and baz seem to be content now even if life isn’t always perfect. it’s a good ending but I do hope to see more of them in the future (hey a girl’s allowed to dream right?)

[that-disabled-princess]

Top Ten vs Personal Ten

Thanks for the tag @stitchyqueer! I've seen this going around and wanted in, so I'm glad you tagged me!

Top ten

silver tongue [E, 5.5k]

tiddy donation [E, 2.2k]

Kiss It Better [T, 2.1k] - written for @you-remind-me-of-the-babe

Sexualities and Crises [T, 1.5k]

Drink Your Fucking Tea [T, 700]

All I Want for Christmas Is You [T, 2.6k]

Love of All My Lives [G, 800]

Something to suck on [E, 1.2k]

Melt, let yourself be Loved [M, 600]

Sober Enough to Kiss [T, 2.4k]

My top two fics being E-rated has been a topic of discussion between a friend and I for over a year now haha. Also--all of these fics have over 1000 hits? What?? That's insane. You guys are amazing.

Personal ten (with commentary)

I didn't go "HELL YES" to these bottom five, but I still love and adore them for different reasons!

10. En garde, Monsieur Migraine! [G, 700]

I love writing hurt/comfort, and this is one of those fics I come back to reread when I need some comfort myself.

And plus--Addams family reference! Who doesn't love the Addams family?

9. Come back like star(fish)s [M, 400] - written for @bookish-bogwitch

Hellloooo lambden! This was the first lambden fic I posted, back when Em sent me the wildest prompt I could dream of getting in my askbox. Pioneering this ship was so much fun. Thanks for indulging me, Em <3

8. silver tongue [E, 5.5k]

Okay, this one had to be on here. It contains one of my favorite scenes I have ever written, and if @confused-bi-queer says I write really good smut? I must write REALLY DAMN GOOD SMUT. I aspire to write smut like you, Lee.

7. make the yuletide gay (and horny) [E, 300]

I had to put a <500 word smut fic on here because GODDAMN? I am good at packing a lot into so few words.

6. True depths of love [T, 400]

Mind the tags if you read this.

This gets put higher than number seven because I think of this fic a lot more. I think of this fic a lot, of what could've happened that night in the forest if Simon was even a second too late. (I think most people underestimate the value of a second.)

These top five fics are the ones I went "HELL YES" to when I was going through my AO3. Let's get into them!

5. 101 ways to snag yourself a vampire: Romance edition [G, 1.2k] - written for @yeonjunenby

To me, this fic is the epitome of all things good in fanfic and headcanon. (I still cannot believe I actually got one hundred and one of these motherfuckers.) I compiled things from canon, my personal headcanons, and fics other people have written (credit given in the end notes). And out came this beautiful, funny, and heartfelt list!

4. Something to suck on [E, 1.2k]

This fic is just *chef's kiss* It's a masterpiece. A work of art. It's one of my favorite things I've written.

It's got Spadey love; it's got Simon love... what more could you want?

3. Anything, Everything [M, 200]

Poetry. Ah, poetry, my old friend. If you've ever heard me talk about this fic, you knew this one was coming.

This by far is not my most popular fic, but I truly appreciate the people who have read it and left comments. This fic has a piece of my heart.

2. Who we're supposed to be [T, 2k]

It was close between third and second! But this one squeaked ahead because...

I wrote this fic just a couple weeks ago, but it's already one of my favorite fics I've ever written. Aro characters speak to my soul, and I love writing and reading about them. And Baz has chronic pain in this!

1. Mark of the Beast [E, 1.5k]

"But, Jas, why isn't your top favorite fic snowbaz?" If you're asking this--are you serious. Were you there when I created this beautiful, cursed ship. Were you there when I wrote the first fic. Were you there when @otherpeoplesheartachept-2 and Em and @ic3-que3n joined the chaos (I will forever love you guys for this).

Mark of the Beast is the fic that began Lambden. (And this is honestly one of my proudest fandom moments xD) This fic, that writing, those details--I truly think this is one of the best things I've ever written.

I tag everyone I tagged above and @bazzybelle @artsyunderstudy @dragoneggos @martsonmars @tea-brigade @palimpsessed @carryonsimoncarryonbaz @fatalfangirl @johnwgrey @technetiumai if you want in 💖💖

[ionlydrinkhotwater]

Here's my Halloween feelings x Carry On Character Study

For me the reading I got from the SS trilogy is that while the WOM tried to make Baz a scary monster he and his family gave off more like fun spooky soft Addams family vibes.

But Simon the golden boy chosen one? His past is filled with voids and violations against nature, Dark rituals, trauma and damage. For me Simon's forgotten past is filled with dark, strange individuals who all helped shape this odd magic melting, nature breaking creature and contributed to his damage.

Like Baz has been through bad stuff but he was born to people who loved him and was continually surrounded by love, who grew up to be a well dressed soft nerd.

But Simon's origins is a horror story, a fanatic impregnated his follower during a dark ritual and then left this offspring to dark elements to be formed into whatever was capable of destroying an entire building cause he was hungry. No one died (cause Simon's still a good guy) but the fact is that if we're gonna think about a dark creature to me Simon fits the bill more.

Losing his magic in some way allowed him to stop being the magic breaking lovecraftian entity his father and the people in his past had tormented into existence. He can now deal with his issues without the magic messing with him and everyone else. He can become the soft himbo he was always meant to be.