#but then you try to filter out the ones that are actually just snowbaz with delia present

[tyrannuspitch]

i know co is a romance novel so it's not THAT weird but it is still kind of weird to me that as far as i can tell, my silly little story about baz and mordelia is one of only ~3 (depending how generous we're being with categorisation) genuine gen fics about baz and his siblings on ao3. like..... three. THREE??? in SEVEN YEARS???

[wellbelesbian]

ao3 tag game

@sharing-a-room-with-an-open-fire thought i tagged them in this, but i actually haven’t done it yet. i will take this as an invitation to…

how many works do you have on ao3?

13, but some are really old marvel fics and a lot of them are unfinished.

what’s your total ao3 word count?

41303

how many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

technically it’s filtered as 5, but i’d say 3 because some fandom tags mean the same thing. Carry On Series/Simon Snow & Related Fandoms, Marvel Cinematic Universe, and Ancient Greek Religion & Lore/The Iliad.

what are your top five fics by kudos?

nothing is sacred enough to escape gen z humour- this is one of my oldest and dumbest fics, hence why it’s the top one. it’s an mcu fic about Peter and Shuri beginning a vine reference war that gets way out of hand. i guess it is pretty funny.

Hugs Are The Best Type Of Team Building- another mcu fic. this one was mostly written by my co-writer and i just supplied some ideas and beta-ed it, but i was put down as co-writer and, as another old fic, it’s built up a lot of kudos over the years.

Happier Memories- now we’re onto the recent stuff! this was my fic for the Carry On Anon Fest, where Baz proposes to Simon and it goes horribly wrong, but still ends up happy in the end.

Lend Me Your Comb- this is a short little drabble i wrote about Baz cutting Simon’s hair during lockdown. this is a fairly recent fic so i’m surprised it’s so high!

long is the road that leads me home- this is my snowbaz highwayman fic for the Carry On Through The Ages event. i’m surprised this fic is so high when i’ve still only posted the prologue. i promise i will write the rest eventually!

do you respond to comments? why or why not?

i try to, because it’s so nice to receive the comments so they deserve a response. but sometimes i just don’t know what to say! if there’s anything in a comment i can latch onto i will, if not i’ll just try to leave a thank you.

what’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

i’ve barely started it, but the only one of my fics with an angsty ending will be long is the road. kind of. basically it’s going to have 2 endings, one happy, one very sad. it’s weird because i LOVE writing angst, but i haven’t really written any since my wattpad days. i need to pick it up again…

have you ever received hate on a fic?

no, thankfully! maybe some back when i wrote on wattpad, because i got a LOT of comments on those and i doubt they were all positive. but i don’t remember anything worse than some people joking about typos, so it can’t have been that bad.

do you write smut? if so, what kind?

nope. i sometimes like to read it, but it just feels incredibly stilted and formal when i write it. maybe it’s because i’m ace, or maybe it’s something else. at the end of the day it doesn’t really bother me, i can just do fade-to-black if the situation ever calls for it.

have you ever had a fic stolen?

sort of. okay, so i’m talking about my long-ago wattpad days more than i expected here, but back in like, 2016, one of my friends found that a lot of their fics had been posted to some random fanfic website, and when we checked a lot of mine and another friend’s were there too. i don’t know if the website just had some code that copied fics from wattpad or if this was a person posting them there as their own, but either way there was no way to report it and they weren’t getting much traffic anyway, so we just had to leave it.

have you ever had a fic translated?

a few people messaged me on wattpad to ask to translate some of my fics, and i always gave permission, but i don’t know how many were actually translated. none of my ao3 fics have ever been stolen or translated! am i somehow a worse writer now than i was back then??

what’s your all-time favourite ship?

that’s a big thing to commit to because i change my preferences all the time! if we’re going by fics it would be snowbaz, if by tumblr posts i would be jonmartin (the magnus archives), if we’re going by the longest it would be solangelo (percy jackson). i guess snowbaz or Charlie and Nick from Heasrtstopper in equal measures, for now. but that could change at any time.

have you ever co-written a fic before?

a have 2 fics on ao3 that i co-wrote with somebody who i no longer talk to. they were generally a pretty manipulative and shitty person and sometimes i want to delete those fics, but i also don’t want the memory of them to ruin things i like, so i haven’t. on a lighter note, another friend of mine and i have repeatedly tried to write together, but despite how much fun it is to argue in a google doc, after half a dozen chapters we always get distracted and it fizzles out. we’re still good friends, we just need someone with more focus to mediate and force us to commit more.

what’s a wip you want to finish, but don’t think you ever will?

not even a wip, because once i start those i don’t ever really stop, but the story i have planned for my OCs is probably never going to make it out of my head and onto a page. writing original fiction is so daunting, and i have a terrible habit of simply not doing things if i suspect they’ll fail.

what are your writing strengths?

dialogue and characters. also foreshadowing. it’s why i love d&d! i can create a bunch of interesting characters and interactions, and be super ominous about the big bad.

what are your writing weaknesses?

describing places and blocking scenes. my friend who i tried to co-write with is a master at beautiful, descriptive prose, which is why we tried to write together. also fight scenes, though i thankfully don’t write many of those.

what are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in fics?

i’m only fluent in english and i don’t trust google translate, so i would need to consult someone who knows the language, or just put it in english in italics.

what was the first fandom you wrote for?

Percy Jackson and the Heroes Of Olympus.

what’s your favourite fic you’ve written?

basically all the ones that haven’t done as well as i expected are my under-appreciated faves. i can’t pick just one!

it’s so stupid, but Rats is one of them. it’s just a dumb little fic i wrote in one night and holds up surprisingly well. also, Simon referenced Baz farming rats in AWTWB, but i got to it first!

also All That She Wants, which was a very personal fic i wrote because i wanted Agatha to have female friends and balance her being gay and ace.

and finally we are slaves to the gods, whatever gods are, because i love ancient greece and trauma and that’s what this fic is a fusion of!

phew, some of this got personal 😂 i tag @otherpeoplesheartachept-2 @martsonmars @mostlymaudlin @bazzybelle @knitbelove and @nonbaznary if you haven’t done this already!

[amphipodgirl]

#1 and #9 and 10 for Mi Chamocha!

Thank you for asking! <333

1. I kind of have a few favorites, but my heart belongs first and most of all to Parent-Teacher Association. I was really in love with slow-burn, non-magical Snowbaz AUs, especially Between the Lines and Can’t Find My Way Home, and I was like -- wait a minute! I could try to write one of those myself! And the burn didn’t come out as slow as it might have, but I’m happy with what I wrote. I really love Crohn’s!Baz and Good Dad Simon.

9. When I started thinking about doing an Exodus AU, I immediately knew that Baz would be Egyptian, because he has Egyptian ancestry in canon. For enemies to lovers, that meant making Simon a Hebrew (plus Simon is actually a Hebrew name, more or less). Then as I think you know I struggled with how to not end up with a really gross situation wrt consent. Part of the solution to that was making Baz a scribe rather than an overseer (which had been my first thought) so that he’s slightly off to the side rather than being directly over Simon all the time.

10. There’s an ancient Jewish tradition called midrash, which is basically fan fiction of the Bible, especially missing scenes and headcanons. So I regard Mi Chamocha as part of that tradition -- so it’s a Snowbaz fanfic and also an Exodus midrash. There were some specific traditional midrashim that I drew on for writing the story. There was one in particular that influenced my treatment of the crossing of the Sea of Reeds (I won’t go into detail about that right now because it would be a spoiler).

When I was describing the plagues, I was starting from these quite brief descriptions in the Bible and figuring out okay, what would that really be like, how would people respond? I invented a bunch of things that just seemed logical, like people wrapping up in cloth to avoid the flies and the lice, and the ways that the different plagues made the slaves’ lives harder. (I loved writing the kids playing with the frogs while trying to keep them out of the bricks.) A couple of details are already there in the Bible -- in particular, the stinking heaps of dead frogs and digging holes next to the Nile to get earth-filtered water during the plague of blood.

I’ve written a quite long author’s note that has a lot of info about the midrashic tradition and other background information. I’m planning to publish it as the second work in the series after Mi Chamocha is fully published (it has spoilers).

[fell-in-love-didnt-you]

Royals: SnowBaz Fanfiction;Part One

Loved the royal engagement/wedding/relationship between Prince Harry and Duchess Meghan. It obviously inspired me for this AU.

Simon knew it was going to be difficult with Baz.

Baz Pitch wasn’t exactly the most eloquent when he told Simon about his…situation. Oldest child in the most respected family in pretty much all of western Europe, and he’d just conveniently forgot to mention that within the first two months. They’d been to secluded, expensive restaurants that Simon could’ve only hoped for when he was a kid. The most expensive meal he’d ever had before meeting Baz was an eight dollar basket of chicken tenders he’d had courtesy of his estranged father.

But Baz…Baz had bought him nearly one hundred dollars of just wine…in one night. Simon had gone wide-eyed when he’d seen the bill, feeling his heart race as Baz moved his hand to grab the check. But Baz had smiled when he saw Simon’s crazy-eyes, laughing at him slightly.

“I’ve got it covered,” he mumbled in a tone of voice that Simon was embarrassed to say was sexy. He’d blushed a bit, trying to refuse and knowing full-well he’d never be able to cover his half, but Baz smiled again. He covered Simon’s freckled hand with his own darker one. Simon felt himself smile just a tiny bit. “Really, I’ve got it covered, Snow.”

So two fucking months later, when Simon told Baz that he wanted to put this on lock, Baz looked like he’d been shot. Simon had backed up then, but Baz just smiled and pulled him down on Simon’s shitty couch that had various stains from various takeout places. And then he’d said it. Simon thought it was honestly a joke. Baz? His boyfriend (hopefully) Baz? A royal?

He’d laughed. He’d laughed right in Baz’s face, turning red. It was absurd. Totally. Completely. The royal family’s son wasn’t named Baz. He was named something weird like Tyranny or Tyrannosaurus. The prince lived in seclusion and hadn’t really been out in public since years ago. Simon had remembered the day the prince had been sent to a prestigious boarding school for privileged kids. Simon remembered wanting that so much.

Baz hadn’t laughed back. He just kinda sat there until Simon had calmed down. Then he’d pulled out a tiny photo from his wallet, showing an image of him and the actual fucking queen. And there were even more photos on his phone, showing him with the entire royal family in different settings, different clothes, and different times of day. Some were from other countries. Nearly everyone Simon had idolized since he’d been a child was there.

“So all the fancy dinners…?” Simon began to ask, not really knowing where the question was going. Baz nodded. “And all the private restaurants…?” Baz nodded again.

And that was really just the beginning of it. He’d been dating a royal for two months and not known it. How the hell could he be so oblivious? Baz’s name wasn’t Baz. It was Tyrannus Basilton. The nickname had come from his middle name. The resemblance of older Baz to ten-year-old Baz was undeniable. Simon should’ve seen it earlier. The only reason he didn’t was because Baz had actively stayed out of the press so much.

This had brought so many speedbumps into the relationship. Simon was a commoner. He came from literally nothing. He was born out of wedlock, given up immediately after birth, adopted back by his father, and then basically dumped out with nothing once again. He wasn’t royalty. He didn’t have a dollar to his name. And Baz…Baz went to prestigious boarding schools, could have everything he wanted at the snap of a finger, and could have literally anyone he wanted. And he chose Simon. 

...

Simon tightened his grip on Baz’s warm hands, the morning light filtering through the flat they share. The bed sheets are wrapped around their legs, a little cold but still offering enough warmth for comfort. The morning haze in his mind cleared in a few moments, and he felt that Baz was breathing normally, and even a little quickly, against the nape of his neck. Simon smiled, gripping Baz’s fingers and slowly turning over, curling up against the toned chest he had grown so accustomed to.  

“Good morning,” Baz drawled in a low, gravelly voice.

“Morning,” Simon hummed back, lazily pressing his lips against Baz’s. He felt Baz cringe a little, and Simon laughed. “Is it the morning breath or the scruff this time?”

Baz took a moment to reply, mocking a thinking face and eventually saying, “Both, I think.” He laughed as Simon pressed his cold hands against his face, turning away from the bed and walking towards the bathroom. The cold draft of the flat hit Simon as he closed the bathroom door. The tile stuck to his warm feet, and he turned the nozzle of the shower, feeling the warm spray under his hand before he got in.

The bathroom was quite nice; Baz had asked Simon to move into a place together, and they’d decided (against Simon’s better judgement) on a more expensive two-story flat closer to Buckingham than either of their previous places. It was so much more high-end than anything Simon had ever stepped in. He was still enamored by the multiple showerheads in the shower and changing lights that Baz had installed, all based on an app on their phones.

Seriously, how had Simon come into this?

The bathtub was more akin to a Jacuzzi, the lighting was that of a Kim Kardashian photoshoot, and that was only the bathroom! As Simon scrubbed his hair with his favorite soap that one-fourth of the price of Baz’s, had stared at the photo of them on the bathroom counter. Photos of him and Baz were littered around the flat. Baz was the one that usually printed them; Simon wasn’t really sure why Baz loved printing photos and framing them and putting them everywhere, but he loved it. He loved being reminded that Baz loved him enough to put photos of them everywhere. Perhaps it was a little vain, but Simon didn’t care.

Simon stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist. He had to get to work soon. Penelope would chastise him for being late to her flower shop again, but running a shop with your best friend had setbacks and privileges. Being able to show up a few minutes late was definitely a privilege.

He walked out into the room and saw Baz still lounging in the bed, glasses a bit askew on his face and sheets wrapped up to his waist. If Simon didn’t have to go back to work, he’d climb back in bed and stay the night with Baz, but that’s just not how Simon wanted to be. He always needed to have something to do: work, school, or recreational. He logically knew that Baz’s money could keep both of them out of work for years to come, but Simon didn’t want that. He wanted to be as normal as possible.

“I had an idea the other day,” Baz said, yawning in the middle and stretching his arms above his head. Simon’s throat ran dry, and he turned back to the massive closet. Most of the clothing in here was Baz’s; he had many more social clothes than Simon did. Being a prince came with many duties, and Simon understood that.

“What kind of idea?” Simon asked, beginning to pat his hair dry as he flipped through a few options for work. “The kind of idea that’s good, or the kind that will end up with you in the news for a scandal?” Simon turned for dramatic effect and fanned his face in faux shock.

Baz laughed and tried to throw a square decorative pillow at him, but Simon caught it and returned a much better hit aimed right at Baz’s face. Baz’ laughter died down, and Simon leaned against the frame of the closet door.

“The kind that could go either way,” Baz finally answered, twisting the sheets in between his fingertips. Simon nodded, a small but nervous smile still on his lips. He waited for Baz to say whatever it was he was thinking about. “I was wondering if you’d join the Church of England?”

Simon’s mouth involuntarily opened slightly, and he cast his eyes down to the floor. The Church of England? He bit at his lips before responding. “I-um-I thought that was only for people like you.”

Baz rolled his eyes and said, “You are people like me. Why else would I ask?” Simon shrugged and turned back to the closet, pulling out his worn baseball tee and a pair of light wash jeans. He put everything on and jumped a little when he felt Baz’s arms wrap around his middle.

“Give it a few days,” Baz whispered into his ear, his open lips warming the shell of his ear. “If it’s a no, then it’s a no. You don’t have to say yes.”

Simon sighed and turned into Baz’s embrace, hugging his bare back and breathing into the nape of Baz’s neck. He closed his eyes and breathed in Baz’s morning scent: bergamot, sleep, and a bit of his own musk. It was comforting. It was home to Simon. He fell asleep and woke up to this. It was uniquely Baz.

“It’s definitely not a no,” Simon replied, pulling back from the hug and moving to sit at the small desk by the high windows of the room. The plain white curtains that hung to the floor covered the bedroom from the outside world. Here, it was just Simon and Baz. As he tugged on his old Chuck Taylor’s that had been so worn that some parts were completely falling apart (like the sole), he looked up at where Baz was now searching through the closet for days clothes. “I just thought that people princes dated didn’t really join the Church of England until…you know.”

Baz stopped his rummaging and clung onto a dark blue shirt, sighing. “Si,” he breathed out, looking over at the desk, “I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t in this for the long run.” Simon blushed at that, immediately ducking his head so Baz didn’t see. The long run. Simon had known since practically the first date that he wanted this to last as long as it could. He himself was definitely in it for the long run, so hearing Baz say it…his heart did a little spin, jump, and crash in his chest.

“I’m in it for the long run, too,” he mumbled, as he took his car keys from the desk and walked to where Baz stood, smiling up at his boyfriend. He pressed a long but light kiss to Baz’s lips and stepped back. “We’ll talk about the messy details when I get home,” he added, stepping to where the door to the bedroom was. “We’ll figure it out.”

Baz sighed with a dopey grin and said, “You know my mum and dad have to approve you and this, right?” Simon swallowed thickly and nodded, turning the knob on the door. “Okay,” Baz added. “Have a great day at work. Tell Bunce I said hi.”

“I will,” Simon said, smiling as he walked out of the bedroom. He stepped down the modern white stairs of the flat to the base floor and walked past the kitchen, grabbing a granola bar and opening the front door.

…

“You’re fucking kidding me!” Penny yelled, slapping Simon’s shoulder with a shocked expression on her face. Simon nodded, a bright smile still on his face. “The fucking Church of England! You know what that means, right?”

The shop was empty because the morning rush was over and they were waiting for the middle of the day. That was the second busiest time of the day; the evening was worse. After a week, they usually ran out of roses, daisies, and tulips. That’s how successful Penny’s marketing was. She was fucking brilliant, and Simon knew it. In retrospect, Simon knew she was smarter and wiser now than he’d ever be, but it didn’t other him. He loved Penny so much. She’d gotten him out of so many stupid situations before.

Baz also loved her, too. Sometimes Simon would just sit back and watch the friendly debates they got in. It was nice to see that Penny and Baz got along well with each other. Simon doesn’t know what he would have done if they hated each other. He didn’t want to give either of them up, and living in that type of animosity would kill him.

“I honestly think he just wants me to meet his parents,” Simon mumbled, cutting the ends of some chrysanthemums and placing them in the vase on the counter. “He’s talked about it more often now, and we have been together for a few years.”

Penny sighed and said, “I met Micah’s parents after a few months. How have you survived this long with the fucking prince?”

“If you say fuck one more time, you won’t meet them either,” Simon laughed. He leaned back against the counter and looked at Penny, who was busying herself with a wreath adorned with multicolored flowers of all shapes and sizes. She turned, a tired but loving expression on her face.

“So you don’t want to meet his parents?” Penny asked sincerely, walking over across Simon and leaning against the wall.

Simon shook his head, swept a shaking hand through his hair, and replied, “It’s not that. I just…I’m a commoner. I come from nothing. Like, quite literally nothing. The second Baz and I go public, the media is going to be a battlefield for who can dig up the most tarnished part of my past. Even I don’t know what it is.”

Penny nodded and remained silent for a minute, picking at her chipped nails. She then said, “What if Baz proposes?” The question hung heavy in the air, and after a few beats, Penny stammered, “You wouldn’t say yes?”

Simon huffed out and said, “Of course I’d say yes, Penn. There’s just so much that comes with being together. I’d never have a private life after that. I’d never be able to just walk out of the flat and come to work with you. On the brighter side, we’d have even more business.”

“Unless you fucked up,” Penny cut in, an evil smirk on her face. Simon laughed and nodded.

“Yeah, unless I fucked up,” he conceded. “Then we’d probably have to close shop altogether.”

Penny sighed, a small laugh still coming out between her lips. “You’re way in over your head, Salisbury,” she mumbled, beginning to walk to the front where a customer had just entered. Salisbury, Simon thought to himself. Just another part of himself he’d given up for Baz. Another part he’d have to give up.

…

The dinner the night of Simon’s official acceptance into the Church of England was too fancy for him.

There were too many spoons and forks to count. Every time Simon picked up the wrong one, Baz would politely point out the right one, which was always one over. Simon felt like he was at a fucking cotillion class. It wasn’t that he was frustrated or mad at Baz; he just needed to get this down now before he met Baz’s parents.

Baz’s parents…Jesus Christ of Nazareth, Simon thought.

The low lighting and candles settled around their private booth made Simon calmer. He wasn’t embarrassed to do something stupid in front of Baz; this was their norm. Simon was the one that didn’t know left foot from right foot, but Baz could point them out in the dark, blind, and deaf. The dynamic was comforting.

They held hands across the table. Simon’s right in Baz’s left. Close, but not suffocated. The dinner was gone. There was just fancy glasses of too-expensive champagne and a finished plate of chocolate cake they’d shared. Simon was stuffed to the brim. He would explode if someone even touched his stomach. The silence was comforting. Baz was sitting there, gazing at Simon with a smile. Simon loved that smile. It was reserved for him and only him. That was the smile Baz had shared on with him on their first date.

“Simon,” Baz drawled, his voice only a whisper. Simon hummed in response, running his thumb over Baz’s hand., but Baz just chuckled to himself. It made Simon laugh, too. He was wearing a dopey grin afterwards. These were the nights he cherished the most. There was no pressure to be perfect. No one was staring at them and making snide comments under their breath. This was just them.

Simon lifted his head to the ceiling and closed his eyes, letting out a breath from his mouth and relaxing his shoulders. Baz’s hand left his, and Simon nearly clenched on open air. The feelings of Baz’s fingers were still on his, and Simon opened his eyes and looked back down to see where Baz had gone.

His breathing stopped when he looked to the end of the table where Baz was knelt, a tiny blue velvet box in his hand. His suit jacket was a little uneven on his shoulders, and Simon felt himself involuntarily move his hand to even it out. It stopped midair, where Baz slowly encompassed it in his own.

“I forgot what I was going to say,” Baz whispered, his voice stuck a little in his throat. Simon choked out a laugh. “But the gist was,” Baz continued, “that I love you, and I’ll do anything for you.” He opened the tiny box, and Simon nearly had a heart attack.

It looked older, the gold on the edges more bronze than polished. A single diamond lay at the top, little lines curved near it. It was so fucking simple, but it was like Baz just knew. He always just knew. Simon drew his eyebrows together in a halfhearted way to try and stop the tears he felt were coming.

“So, um…” Simon could tell the words were caught again, and he quickly took Baz’s cheeks in his hand, moving down and placing a hard kiss on his lips.

“Yes,” Simon whispered, face only centimeters apart from Baz’s. He could see that Baz had cried, too. “A thousand times yes.”  

...

this is the ring 

[otherpeoplesheartachept-2]

On A Trip

(Carry On CountDown Day 20)

(SnowBaz) (Normals AU)

Length: 1103

Genre: I honestly could not tell you 

Trigger Warnings: None

-

Baz has to ruin everything. I was so looking forward to this field trip but now I’m counting the agonizing seconds until it’s over. We’re on a hike to collect samples of plants... or something. I honestly don’t understand what we’re doing. I asked Penny, but she went into a lecture about how the trip was a waste of time and plant life. I didn’t really care why we were going, I just enjoy being outside instead of being stuck in a stuffy classroom.

That was until I found out we had partners and Baz was mine. He’s such a prick all the time and I don’t know why. Ok sure, when we were like eight, I called him Vampy. But I was a kid!!! And to be fair he looked like a vampire! He has dark long hair, widows peaks, his teeth are even extra sharp, I swear, and one day he spilled cranberry juice so it looked like blood all over him. The only thing he was missing was the pale skin. He’s Egyptian actually, his skin’s a glorious dark red/gold.

Anyways, we’re in high school now and he still hates me.

Right now he’s staring at some leaves, ignoring me. He’s tied his hair up in a bun, I’d call it ridiculous but honestly he can pull it off. Prick. I would ask for help but Baz’ll scoff and tell me I’m an idiot. He’s always good at everything, unlike me.

I look around hoping Penny will save me some how. She’s busy actually working with Trixie (that’s surprising).

Baz stretches after putting a leaf in a bag. “Are you planning on standing there brain dead all day or are you capable of actually doing some work in this, partnership.” He says the last word like it’s poison on his lips.

“Yeah uh...” I scratch the back of my neck. He’s going to be so pissed. “I do- well see I don’t re-really… uh.”

“Spit it out Snow.” He acts as if it’s exhausting to be in my presence, “I haven’t got all day!”

“I don’t really know what exactly it is that we’re doing???” I stare at my shoes.

“I’m not surprised, yet somehow still disappointed, Snow.” Is all he says before turning his back on me, continuing to work.

Awkward is the nicest way I can think to describe the silence that follows. After what seems like a millennia, our professor spots me just standing around and tell me to get to work. Reluctantly I kneel by Baz.

“Hey,”

He doesn’t even try to hide his contempt. “What.”

“Do you think, maybe you could help me out? I wouldn’t even be asking but- well except I, I just got yelled at for not doing anything, so…”

“Fine, Snow. What do you remember about botany class and what lessons did you space out for?”

“Uh...”

“You actually don’t know anything do you?”

I blush. “No.”

He closes his eyes and inhales deeply. “Okay then. This-” he picks at a leaf “-is the invasive species-” blah blah blah, he went on forever about plants and science but who cares. When he finished, I tried processing all the information, I didn’t get most of it thought.

“Ok, sure, seems… simple.”

“You’re completely lost.” He states matter-of-factly.

“Well sorry we can’t all be Mr. A+ over here!” I throw my hands up.  

“No, S-Snow, calm down, it’s fine, I just want to make sure you understand before I try telling you more.”

“Fine, can you go back to the sunlight part?”

“Sure.”

I have no idea how long he spent basically catching me up on an entire semester of botany. Eventually, I got it. Then I started asking him about all the different plants on the forest floor. For some reason Baz has a vast knowledge of plant life, then again what doesn’t Baz have a vast knowledge of.

Gradually we trail further and further away from the rest of the class, neither of us noticed for a while though. I was too busy actually not hating spending time with Basilton Pitch. Who’d ‘ve thought, eh?

“What’s the scientific name for a daisy?” I ask as I see a patch of them.

“Bellis Perennis.”

“Bell-is Pear-en-is. Cool.” I smile at him. Casually I pick a few and stick one behind his ear. I think Baz blushes but he moves away too quickly.

“Well Snow,” He clears his throat, “I think we’ve got enough- Shit.”

“What?” I turn.

“We’ve lost everyone. Great, now I’m stuck in a bloody forest with Simon bloody Snow, just how I wanted to die.” He seems to be thinking out loud. I’m fully aware of the fact that he hates me and I didn’t think one day on truce would change that; but I’m still hurt by his words.

“Right, ‘cause I’m the absolute worst.” I let out before thinking. Baz’s furls his brows, his lips turn down.

Another silence passes until Baz speaks up. Quietly, unsurely he says, “That, that’s not what I meant I mean-” He’s adamantly starring at the leaf covered ground “-It’s not, shit I’m bad at this, uh sorry…? I- You’re not a bad person to spend time with.” His dark cheeks have undertones of pink now.

“Is that the great Basilton Pitch, apologizing, to me?”

“Shut up,” He bashfully smiles. It’s glorious. “Or I’ll take it back.”

“But you stuttered! Were you nervous?” I poke fun at him.

“Stop. I’m serious.” His blush intensifies.

“Sorry, apology accepted.” I stick out my hand. He stares confused for a second before shaking it.

“Okay, now let’s figure out how to get out of here.” I nod.

We trace our steps back on the fallen leaves. Sun filters through the trees. Basilton voice speaks to me about nature, his skin glows wonderful warm colors. At some point we start holding hands, I’m afraid that pointing it out will cause it to stop. I don’t want to stop holding Baz’s hand.

We make it back to the flock of kids with no damage (besides a 15 minute lecture about wondering off and getting lost and forest safety from our teacher). The trip is basically over after that.

On the bus ride back I sit with Baz. We don’t talk, but he offers me an earbud so we listen to some indie music, watch the sun through the window, and lean on each other. I don’t really know what this means but I know it’s different. A good different. So I don’t think about it. I just enjoy the sounds I hear and the warmth I feel.

-

(Can you tell I’ve never taken a botany class and bullshitted my way thought this??)

I’ve been “gone” for almost a week because the writing juices just weren’t flowing. But I’m back! Who knew some obscure indie music at a friends birthday party would get me to write about Snowbaz? Anyway, I’m gonna post the fics that I wrote (even though they’re all super late) So I hope you don’t mind reading my stuff days behind everyone else!

[sunlightschadow]

Pastel sweaters and leather jackets

I love pastel/punk au’s, so I wanted to write one with Snowbaz.^^

Reblogs and comments are super appreciated!

Words: 5224

Simon Snow was all soft pastel colors and oversized sweaters. He was light jeans and converse that matched his nail polish in color. He was occasional flower crowns and the bright tones he sometimes dyed his hair in. He was sunshine laughter and freckles and moles all over his body.

He was the boy Tyrannus Basiliton Grimm Pitch had fallen in love with.

Baz on the other hand was basically his polar opposite. Where Simon would wear bright happy colors Baz would wear dark tones. Baz was combat boots and worn looking leather jackets that probably had cost more then your soul. He was bruised knuckles and the smoke of cigarettes. He was sneers and scowls and snide remarks.

He was the boy Simon Snow used to call his worst enemy.

These two on first glance entirely different people had managed to be paired up as roommates since their first year at Watford private school. Simon was the headmasters adopted son and Baz was the son of one of the families that constantly complained about the school and on top of it he himself was what people would call a troublemaker. Shortly they weren’t meant to be friends, probably not even meant to get along even the tiniest bit.

Baz was Simon’s worst enemy and Simon was Baz’s. That was how it had always been, that was how it was supposed to stay.

But still over the time they had reached some kind of peace between them. They weren’t quite friends, but they where on some kind of truce and  you could say they where even on the way to friendship. That didn’t mean they had completely stopped insulting each other or anything, but they had some kind of unspoken agreement that they at least weren’t at each others throats all the time anymore.

If that made Baz feel better or even more miserable, he wasn’t sure.

Right now he felt himself unable to tear his eyes away from Snow, who sat on the other side of the classroom and was from what it looked like just staring into space instead of paying attention to the teachers words. The light that filtered through the window behind him made his curls glow almost golden and his sweater matched the color of his eyes so that the way they shown stood out even more then usual. Would he have been more of an creative person, he would have written entire books full of poems alone about the beauty of Simon Snow, would have drawn entire maps just of the moles and freckles adorning his body and would have composed music based on the sound of his voice.

Baz cringed at himself and tore his gaze away. He hated how cheesy he got whenever he thought about the golden boy but he really couldn’t help himself.

When class was over and Simon was walking to his locker some boy shoved him into the lockers next to him with his shoulder and said something Baz couldn’t hear just to walk of laughing with his friends. Simon didn’t say anything and just picked up the book he had let fall to the floor and continued to walk as if nothing had happened. Baz clenched his fists.

Simon had been bullied ever since even before he had started wearing the style he wore now. He got called multiple things Baz didn’t even want to remember and occasionally returned to their room bruised and beaten up. These where the times when Baz desperately wanted to step in, to protect Simon from everyone that could ever hurt him, or to at least comfort him when he couldn’t be there. But he couldn’t, if he would betray his role as Snow’s enemy it would give away his feelings.

The worst of it all was that Snow wasn’t always the one the attacks where aimed at. Baz had witnessed multiple times how Snow had stepped in when other kids where being bullied and had taken the hit for it. Simon had a heart of gold but sometimes Baz wanted to yell at him for it.

Right now he had enough of it. Enough of people shoving Snow into lockers and walls and calling him names. With the knowledge that he would probably regret this later he made the decision that he would later take care of the boy that had just shoved Snow into the locker and his friends.

When he returned to their shared room afterwards it was already night and Snow was luckily enough already asleep.

The next day on his way to the school building Simon was suddenly stopped by the guy that had shoved him into the locker yesterday and his two friends. They looked as if someone had beaten them up. Simon just hoped they weren’t here to take their anger about that out on him.

To his surprise though they looked at him with pleading eyes and apologized for making fun of him. Simon blinked at them.

“What?”

“We said we’re sorry, we’re not gonna get on your nerves anymore, just tell your boyfriend that-” suddenly their eyes widened and they started backing of.

“Bye Simon!” was all they called before they simply run of.

To say Simon was confused was an understatement. A presence next to him drew his attention away from the boys though.

Baz.

“What was that about?” he asked, bringing a cigarette to his mouth and lightening it. His knuckles looked bruised.

“I have no idea to be honest.” he said looking back to the boys that just reached the entrance doors of the school building.

Simon shrugged. “Whatever, they apologized for yesterday so that’s good. Even though I have no idea which boyfriend they where talking about?”

At that Baz almost choked on the smoke of his cigarette but managed not to. “Probably a misunderstanding. Come, get a move on Snow or we’re gonna be late for class.”

Simon just made an agreeing noise and followed Baz to the big school doors.

“Shit, shit, shit.” Baz cursed under his breath, holding his bruised ribs.

The guys he had beaten up a few days prior, the ones that had bullied Simon, had ganged up on him when he was outside to smoke and they had brought friends. Needless to say they had gotten to Baz quite badly.

Wiping away the blood from his nose and pulling out his keys he prayed to every god he knew that Snow would already be asleep.

Apparently he was out of luck.

When he entered the room Snow sat on his bed, book in hand and his eyes widened in horror when he laid them on Baz. He was next to him in a second.

“Baz! Holy shit what happened?! Who did this?!”

Baz rolled his eyes despite the situation. He had to try to stay cool, he could badly tell Simon something like ‘Oh yeah the guys that always bully you beat me up 'cause I had beaten them up because they-well-bully you’.

“God Snow, it was just some guys trying to pick a fight. I’m fine.”

He tried to shove his way past the worried looking boy into the bathroom but how it seemed like Snow was having none of that.

“You’re not fine!” Snow exclaimed and carefully yet somewhat forcefully led Baz into the bath by his elbow and made him sit down on the closed toilet.

“Come on Snow, I’m not a baby, I can take care of myself.”  

All Snow did in response to that statement was glare at him for a second and leave the room. Baz almost sighed in relief but then Snow returned with the first aid kit he kept around and used for his own injuries usually.

“You may not be a baby, but still, let me take care of you.” Simon said angrily.

Baz was so taken aback by that statement that he didn’t complain when Snow kneeled on the floor in front of him, opened up the first aid kit and began to clean his wounds.

Baz tried very hard not to blush because Simon was touching him so carefully as if he thought he might break otherwise and not to wince when Simon disinfected the gash on his cheek.

They stayed silent, apart from Baz occasional hiss and Simons sounds of disapproval when he cleaned a particularly bad wound but suddenly Snow spoke up.

“I don’t want to be fighting anymore.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t want us to be fighting anymore.”

“Oh. Where is that coming from?”

Baz was confused, but then again Simon had always been jumpy.

Simon shrugged. “I’m not so sure either-”

“What a surprise-”

“-hey! But I-I just dislike seeing you like this. I dunno, I just realized that I don’t hate you as much as I used to, so uh, wanna be friends?”

Simon stopped in his cleaning and finally looked Baz in the eyes. He couldn’t quite read the others expression, but eventually Baz just sighed and stuck out his hand.

“Fine, then it’s settled, we’re friends now.”

Simon’s face lit up like a Christmas tree and Baz was sure that that was bad for his heart.

“Yep we are!” Simon eagerly grabbed Baz hand and shook it almost violently.

“Okay, but now that that’s settled get your shirt of, I need to check your bruises.”

“What?!”Baz was positive he was blushing and that didn’t happen often.

“Geez Baz it’s not that big of a deal, I just really need to check that your ribs are okay.”Despite saying that Simon was also starting to blush.

“Okay.” Baz managed not to stutter, even though his voice came out a bit breathy. He wasn’t sure how much more of Snow’s gentle touches he could handle before he would simply combust.

After tugging his shirt of, Baz mostly concentrated on not letting his breath hitch when Simon touched him, which proved to be difficult. He was so fucking gentle and careful, Baz could barely handle it. He had to rip his mind out of different scenarios in that Simons hands traveled his body with a very different intend.

“Gosh Baz your heart is beating very fast.”

Shit.

“I don’t have a heart, I’m a vampire Snow, remember?.”

“Will you ever let me life down that weird two week obsession in fifth year when I actually thought you where a vampire?”

“Nope, never.” Baz smirked.

“Didn’t expect you to.” Simon smirked as well and just continued with his check-up, seemingly having forgotten about Baz speed-up heartbeat much to Baz relief.

The rest of the entire Simon-touching-him-thing Baz managed to stay calm, apart from when Simons finger accidentally brushed his nipple and he almost choked on air.

It had been around two months since the whole becoming-friends-with-Snow-thing and Baz honestly couldn’t complain.

He even started to actually hang out with Snow and his best friend Penelope Bunce. That girl was his biggest threat when it came to being on top of the class, because even though he had a troublemaker status he was still aiming to get the best grades in the whole year. He was a Pitch, he didn’t aim for anything less then the best.

They either hung out in Snow’s and Baz’s room (how Bunce managed to sneak into the boys rooms was still a misery to him), or they went to the mall, or the cinema, stuff like that.

Being this close to Snow still proved to be difficult though.

Before Baz had perfectly managed to hide his affection for the boy behind a mask of hatred, but now that was hard, they weren’t enemies anymore and it was easy to have slip-ups here and there.

Like right now for example.

They where in the cinema watching some horror-movie and Snow was a shivering mess.

Bunce had originally wanted to tag along but shortly before the agreed meeting time she had texted Snow that she forgot to do some homework and couldn’t make it to the cinema (this all had sounded pretty planned beforehand on Bunce’s side. She was clever, Baz had to be careful, maybe she already had a clue on his feelings for Snow)

So only the two of them had gone into the cinema. The movie they where watching was some horror-thriller about some serial killer that was onto some teenagers that had broken into his house.

Snow seemed terrified, which Baz honestly hadn’t expected, but how it seemed he just really couldn’t handle jumpscares and the movie was full of them.

After another scene where the killer appeared behind some door the protagonist just had closed Snow practically jumped in his seat and suddenly grabbed Baz hand, strongly.

“Sorry.” he muttered but he didn’t loosen his iron grip on Baz hand one bit, eyes still glued to the movie on the screen.

Baz thanked every god in existence that cinemas where dark, since he was positive he was blushing (that boy was making him blush too often and a blush was horribly out of character for him at least in his opinion).

An especially brutal murder was shown on the screen and Snow gripped his hand even harder. Baz couldn’t help himself and started rubbing his thump over the back of Snow’s hand in an attempt to calm him down.

Snow relaxed a bit, but when the next murder was shown on screen he grabbed Baz hand harder again.

“Snow you’re gonna break my fingers like this. Everything’s okay, it’s just a movie.”

Baz voice that was suddenly right next to his ear and it jerked Simon out of his fear-induced trance.

He stared at Baz hand, which he was apparently gripping tightly (he hadn’t really noticed grabbing it).

“Ah-uh-s-sorry I’m just gonnna-uhm”Simon began to withdraw his hand but suddenly Baz grabbed his fingers.

“It’s alright Snow, I just wanted to ask you to not grip as tightly.”

“Oh okay, alright, sorry and uhm thank you I suppose.”

“Don’t mention it.”

Baz tried to concentrate on the rest of the movie, he really did, but it was hard with Snow’s warm fingers gripping his and with Snow leaning so close to him he could smell him and his fucking apple shampoo.

When the movie was over and they walked out of the cinema Snow smiled at him and said “Thank you for the whole holding-my-hand-through-a-horror-movie-thing, not even Penny holds my hand to calm me down during these, she says it’s to distracting when I crush her fingers.”

“Don’t mention it Snow.” Baz said again and thanked that the wind blew his hair into his face in that moment and thus successfully covered his blush.

Baz wore lipstick today and that made Simon stare even more at his lips then usual (he didn’t know why he liked staring at his lips so much, they where usually twisted into a sneer (he wanted to see them differently, smiling or open and panting) but he didn’t gave it to much thought, maybe he would talk to Penny about this)

It was a dark lowly-saturated red and drew the attention right to the lower half of his face.

Simon thought the color was beautiful and so he told Baz exactly that once classes where over and they where back in their shared room.  

Baz stared at him for a second before he grabbed his bag that was lying onto the ground next to his bed, rummaged through it for a second and pulled out the lipstick, pointing it into Simon’s direction.

“Want to try it on?”

“Yep. Uhm-c-can you put it on me? I always mess up lipstick and you seem like you would know what you’re doing.”

Baz expression was unreadable and Simon almost feared he had overstepped some sort of boundary before Baz huffed out a breath and made his way over to Simon’s bed.

He sat down on it next to Snow , uncapped the lipstick and gently put his hand under Simon’s chin to hold him in place.

“Okay, part your lips a little.”

Simon obliged and Baz applied the color carefully, filling Simon’s lips out with it. He hoped Simon didn’t notice that his hands got sweaty and that they shook ever so slightly. Baz thought to himself how badly he wanted  to trace Simon’s lips with his own instead of with his lipstick.

He finished up and leaned back a little to get a better look at Snow’s face.

“Mh, actually suits you, even though it looks a bit unnatural with your entire pastel thing you have going on.”

“I’m gonna go and take a look at it in the mirror.” Simon said and got up from the bed.

“It really looks good, even though it really looks a little odd together with my style!”Baz heard Snow shout from the bath, followed by an “Oh, I have an idea!”

Snow returned grinning and with his pastel pink nail polish in one hand.

Baz eyes widened slightly.

“You don’t wanna put that on me Snow, do you? It would ruin my entire aesthetic.”

“Oh come on, your lipstick also doesn’t fit my aesthetic so quit whining!”

Simon sat down next to Baz on the bed and gently took his hand in his. Baz couldn’t help the way his breath hitched. It was way to easy to pretend this was some kind of romantic scenario even though he knew Snow had no big problems with touching his friends and this wasn’t special to him in any way.

Carefully Snow started to apply the nail polish on Baz nails, while balancing the open nail polish bottle on his thighs.

Baz couldn’t stop staring from Snow’s hand holding his to Snow’s concentrated face and back to his hand all over again. Snow’s touch felt so nice, even if his hands where really, really warm.

He wanted to lean in. He wanted to lean in and kiss Simon on the lips that where wearing his lipstick. He really wanted to. He might.

Baz leaned forward slightly and-

In that exact moment Simon jerked his head up with a “Tadaa! Finished~” and almost hit Baz in the face with his head in the process.

Baz jerked back a bit, pulled out of his trance. He just had been about to kiss Snow, shit, he needed to get a grip on himself.

He raised his hand that Snow had let go of and examined his nails. Baz had to admit that the other boy actually seemed to be really good at this.

“Looks pretty good, even though it’s really not my color.”he said.

Simon beamed at him. “Well I can also do your other hand, but like- with your black nail polish.”

“I would like that.” Baz said silently as he continued to stare at his hand while trying to shake his feelings of so he wouldn’t make any more stupid mistakes.

Simon was so cold he was shaking like a leaf. Baz on the other hand seemed unfazed by the weather, the bastard.

Why did Simon have to forget to bring his jacket today! They had visited the city and now they where standing at the bus stop, waiting for the bus and it was fucking cold.

Baz turned his head towards him and arched up an eyebrow. “You okay Snow?”

“N-no, I’m f-fucking freezing.” He said through his gritted teeth, attempting to somehow sling his arms even tighter around his body.

A few moments passed but suddenly Simon heard something rustle before he was engulfed in warmth.

He looked to the side and Baz was standing there, staring away from him still looking unfazed, just that he wasn’t wearing his big leather jacket anymore.

In that moment Simon realized that that was the chase because he had it laying around his shoulders. Baz had just giving him his jacket.

Simon felt warmth rise to his cheeks that had nothing to do with the fact that he was slowly starting to warm up a little.

“Thank you.”he mumbled and Baz just hummed in response, acting like it wasn’t a big deal.

It was a big deal though, for both of them, they just didn’t know that the other felt the same.

Baz was staring ahead with all his willpower because he was pretty certain he would just kiss Snow if he got another look at him in his jacket. It was slightly too big for him since it was already big on Baz and Baz was taller and Snow looked way to adorable in it for his own good.

Simon slowly slipped the jacket on so it wasn’t just hanging around his shoulders anymore and hid his hands deep in his pockets. He was pretty positive what he felt in the right pocket was a mint aero chocolate bar. The jacket smelled like Baz, like cedar and bergamot and he tried to subtly breath in deeper to really catch the smell.

It had token him now about four months of friendship with him and several talks with Penny to figure something out that he had if he was honest with himself already known a long time ago.

He was in love with Baz.

The realization had shocked him at first, he had thought he was straight and all that, but still once he had figured out a lot of things made sense to him.

Why he was so nervous around the other boy, but also really enjoyed his company. Why he always wanted to know where he was and what he was doing and feared if he had gotten into trouble again. Why he loved his freaking smell so much and why he somehow found himself constantly staring at Baz lips.

He was more then sure that Baz didn’t feel the same way about him though. Sure, Baz had begun to actually be nice around him and all that but Simon was sure that was just because they where friends now and for no other reason. Thinking about that made his heart sink a little and he buried his nose even more into the collar of the jacket. At least he could have this, at least he could have some of Baz kindness, at least he could be close to him by being his friend.

Little did he know that Baz felt the same way about him.

He just wanted to be close to Simon. Simon, the golden boy he had loved pretty much since he had meet him back in first year. Simon, the boy whose smile could light up the entire room and warm even his heart. Simon the boy that was so fucking brave and stood up for everyone that needed help. Simon, the boy that always thought about everyone else, before he thought about himself.

Just Simon Snow, the boy he was hopelessly in love with.

Baz wasn’t sure he could hold himself back any longer.

Any touch from Snow, every smile directed towards him, any friendly word made him feel like he was on fire. Like everything Snow did took the things he didn’t want to tell him and ignited them piece by piece, making them burn their way up Baz’s throat and almost spill over his lips like the smoke of his cigarettes usually did.

It was even more horrible then when he had been Snow’s enemy. Then it had been easier to stay his distance away. Easier to pretend he hated him. Easier to not let Snow get even closer to his heart then he already was. Easier not to show him that he loved him.

But now Snow was everywhere, he couldn’t avoid him any longer. They weren’t just roommates anymore, or just classmates, they where friends, pretty close friends even. They where practically always together and it tore Baz apart.  

He came back from his cigarette break into their shared room and Snow looked as beautiful as ever.

He was sitting on his bed, scrolling through his phone. The lamp on his bedside table was the only thing lightning the room and it’s light made Snow’s curls look almost golden and light up his eyes.

Baz sat down on his own bed and pulled out his own phone, mindlessly scrolling through instagram. A snort from the other side of the room made him look up.

Snow was giggling at something on his phone screen and suddenly he got up, made his way over to Baz bed with an “Omg Baz, look at this!” and plopped down right next to him, holding his phone in front of his face.

Baz could hardly pay attention to the vine compilation that Snow apparently found hilarious because he was he was a little busy with internally freaking out. Simon Snow sat on his bed  and he sat really fucking close to him, close enough that he was basically leaning into Baz side. That coupled with Baz’s already overwhelming desire to kiss Snow made it a little bit hard for Baz to get his heartbeat under control.

Snow didn’t seem to notice any of his discomfort, continuing to giggle at the dog currently chasing it’s own tail to some funny music on the screen.  

Baz thought Snow would go back to his own bed after the vine compilation that he had somehow managed to at least chuckle at was over, but how it seemed he was wrong.

Snow just stayed in his spot right next to Baz, their sides pressing together and distractedly kept scrolling through what seemed to be tumblr. Baz attempted to also draw his own attention back to his phone screen and not let it rest on the boy next to him.

They sat like that, in frankly comfortable silence (even though Baz heart was still beating like cray) until Snow spoke up.

“I like this.”

“What Snow?”

“I like this.” he answered, gesturing to them both. “I like this, how we are now. I like this a lot better then our constant fighting from a few months ago. We wasted a lot of time by not getting along.”

Baz hummed in agreement. “It’s indeed better. Even though I sometimes miss playing pranks on you. Remember that time I drew a mustache on you while you where asleep during school break back in second year?”

Snow hit him into the side with his elbow but he laughed anyways.

“Or that time you tripped me while I was carrying my food in the cafeteria and it spilled all over Agatha who was walking with me? She was so mad. I still feel bad for laughing about how she looked with the spaghetti stuck in her hair.”

Now Baz had to laugh as well. Wellbelove had indeed been furious, at both of them, but he had walked away really quickly so Snow had had to face all of her wrath.

“Or that time you weren’t paying attention in class and when the teacher called on you I whispered the wrong answer to you and you blurted it out and the whole class started laughing.”

“That was really mean.”

“Yeah, but I found it very funny back then.”

“Not anymore?”Snow asked.

“No, not really. I now dislike this whole being your nemesis thing greatly.”

'I would much rather be your boyfriend.’ Of course Baz didn’t add that, he didn’t want to destroy what he had with Snow now.

Snow laughed lightly. “That’s nice.”

Just now Baz realized that they had started to lean even closer together. Snow was basically cuddling up to his side. Was he this touchy with all of his friends?

Before he could progress the thought even further Snow suddenly turned his face towards him, which made Baz do the same. His breath caught in his throat. They where so close, their noses where only inches apart.

Snow stared him into the eyes, pure blue meeting shimmering grey. Baz could feel his heart stutter.

“Hey Baz c-can I say something that could r-ruin this?” Snow suddenly sounded very unsure of himself and a blush started to paint itself across his cheeks, making his moles and freckles stand out even more then usual. Baz wanted to kiss each of them.

“Go ahead, Snow.” he whispered.

Snow took a deep breath. “I-I-ugh-actually I-You-uhm”

“Use your words Snow.”

“I actually like you and not just as a friend, but more like a crush and I know this ruins everything and that you’re not even into boys and I’m so sorry really, I just really can’t keep pretending that I  want to be just your friend anymore and I think you’re really attractive and really cool and all that and I will shut up now because I’m blabbering and oh my god I’m so sorry Baz, ugh-”

Baz stared at him, mouth agape and his eyebrows up so high Simon thought not much was missing until the would simply merge together with his hairline.

“You like me?”

Snow didn’t look Baz in the eyes but he still nodded.

“And you like me in a romantic way, as in you would like to be my boyfriend?”

Snow nodded again and turned even more red if that was even possible.

“And you think I don’t like you? Fuck, Simon, I’ve been in love with you since first year!”

At that Simon’s head snapped up and he stared at Baz. Now it was his turn to stare at him with his mouth hanging open.

“You-you what?”

At that Baz had to laugh a little.

“Don’t look so unbelieving, it’s true! And I’m really really gay, just for your information.”

Baz couldn’t hold back the smile that was etching itself onto his face. Simon Snow liked him! Simon Snow wanted to go out with him!

Simon smiled back at him and leaned so close again that their noses where bumping into each other and Baz could feel Simon’s breath ghost over his lips.

“Can I say another thing, or rather ask?”Simon said.

“Go ahead.”

“Can I kiss you?”

Baz felt his breath catch in his throat.

“Yes.”

And with that Simon leaned forward and kissed Baz, careful at first and then with more and more force until Baz fell back on his bed with Simon mostly atop of him.

Simon giggled and pressed kisses from his collarbone, over his neck, to his jaw and back to his lips. Baz could swear he saw stars.

Slowly he reached a hand up and tangled it into Simon’s bronze curls. They where even softer then he had expected. The sense of accomplishment he felt at finally touching his hair was embarrassing.

Simon also wove the fingers of one hand through Baz hair and marveled at how silky it was. No wonder with all the ridiculous hair products he was using.

They kept kissing for a bit and Baz decided that Simon smiling into a kiss was a feeling he wanted imprinted onto his own lips forever.

When they stopped Simon just laid his head on Baz chest, listening to his crazy quick heartbeat, while Baz played with his curls.

“So, we’re boyfriends now?”he asked.

“Yes, we’re boyfriends now.” Baz answered. Simon could practically hear his smile in his voice.

“That’s nice.” Simon hummed.

Later that night they both fell asleep in Baz bed, cuddled together, limbs intertwined and with happy smiles playing along their lips.

[fell-in-love-didnt-you]

Paint the Skies with Me: SnowBaz Drabble

Simon paints but not on canvases or walls or paper. He paints on people.

So for an Artist!AU, I think Simon would be a new artist in a studio, and he brings in random people. They’re not off the street (most of the time), but he gets to know them before he paints their story on them. They usually wear tank tops and shorts, and Simon just goes at it. He paints their hometown on their feet and legs because that’s where they started. He paints their love story right across their stomach and chests. The rather deep and personal stuff goes onto their faces.

Baz is another artist in the studio. He doesn’t do the whole ‘bright colors and happy endings’ type of art. He paints dark pictures, usually using mostly blue or black, and they depict scenes of heartbreak and sadness. When he shows his work, people come to see it because it’s not pretty. His art doesn’t leave you feeling like the only person in the eyes of someone who loves you. It leaves you feeling like you’ve lost the only thing keeping you grounded or like you are the only true person on this planet.

Simon wants to do a piece with Baz, and Baz agrees because there’s a really cute artist who always has paint in his hair and on his clothes asking him to hang out and get to know each other and paint together. Simon goes over to his house, and while getting to know him, they become really close. When it finally comes to start deciding what will go where when he paints Baz, Simon realizes he knows literally NOTHING about Baz’s love life. He tries to ask Baz, but he gets shut out each and every time.

Finally, Simon does actually paint him. Halfway up Baz’s legs, the paint turns to dark blues and blacks, telling everyone who sees Baz like this what has happened. Over his forehead and face, Simon paints the way Baz keeps to himself but knows. Baz watches, and he listens, and he gets it. He doesn’t try to pry because he knows what it’s like to be pried at, and he hated it. Simon paints small, tiny stars over his mouth, symbolizing the way Baz holds the world just behind his mouth with his words. Simon puts Baz’s hair up and paints the North Star on either of his temples because, when developing the “friendship” with Baz, Simon realized he was home with him. Over his chest is where Simon’s paint starts out dark but turns lovely shades of pink and light blues, symbolizing the way Baz’s cold exterior changed for those close to him.

When Simon’s done, he takes his pictures and plans to print them the next day. He helps Baz wash the paint off, and it takes a long time before Baz comes out from the bathroom from changing his clothes to paint something with Simon as a muse. Simon sits on a little stool in Baz’s back porch area, though it’s not really outside. There are glass windows and overgrown ferns in pots and paints on the floor, and Simon realizes that this personal studio is what Baz really is. It’s dark, and the moonlight filters in, and when it catches in Simon’s hair, Baz realizes what he’ll paint.

It’s the one time he uses a light color in his paintings. The painting is an outline of Simon face, outlining his eyes, lips, chin, everything. His eyes are open, and they show the stars and moon and galaxies in them. For Baz, Simon has the whole world just beyond his blue eyes. The way he looks around and shows himself through his eyes and smiles and moles is everything. Simon’s lips have the word ‘LIAR’ painted across them. When Simon sees this, he asks why, and Baz says he knows that Simon lies about his happiness for the wellbeing of everyone around him. What Baz doesn’t tell him is that it breaks his heart when Simon lies. He sees the lines of pain hidden beneath the beautiful smile that Simon adorns for him. He noticed when Simon painted him that the crease in between his eyebrows formed for two things: when Simon was upset, or concentrating. Nothing else.

When Baz is done with the main paints, he dips the bristles of his brush lightly in bright paints of blues, pinks, yellows, and oranges, and he flicks it at the canvas. The colors fly and dot themselves along Simon’s skin. Those are what his moles are to Baz. They’re the little parts of Simon that Baz will always notice before anything else. He sees them, and they’re a beacon of something to him, whether that be hope or happiness or love.

After they show the pieces inspired by the other, the owner of the studio suggests that they start doing more together. That’s how Baz and Simon always end up closing together, painting next to one another, and sharing a place to live with the other. That’s also how they end up literally together, because Baz realizes that Simon saw past the surface in his painting, and Simon knows that Baz can read him like an open children’s book any time of day and in any state. They said they loved each other through their work long before they realized it for themselves.