#please imagine Simon sitting in a chair like an absolute disaster thanks

[chibishortdeath]

Simon derangement page number um I lost count!!! Time to explain things and transcribe my handwriting lol >:3

I put a photo of the whole page here because some things were hard to single out into separate images :)

A pose study! I was trying to work on foreshortening with that arm position. Just imagine that he’s talking to someone off screen and sweating cause he’s been working out or something d(^^ )

Two of these are based on some reaction image doodles I ran into on Pinterest that I’m pretty certain originated on tumblr lol. The bottom left one says “*realization*” and the top right one says “deranged —>” with the arrow pointing to our Mr. Deranged in question, Simon. The Simon and Richter one is kinda poking fun at the general Smash Bros fandom depiction of them and is also based on a doodle I saw on Pinterest.

Bottom left says “he has 97 mental illnesses and is banned from most public spaces” lol. Dw! He is your friend! I just forgot to write that part :). I hope the tbh creature doodle is appreciated, I’ve drawn him like that more times than I’d like to admit—

This one is based on a photo of this guy (gotta be a Snapchat one idk I’ve never had Snapchat) with a monster energy and caption “KILL”. I think it fits the vibe.

Bottom left says “monsert!”, a silly bastardizarion of “monster”, again the energy drink. I feel like Simon would be the kind of guy to have caffeine at like 6PM and then wonder why he can’t sleep later lmao. Or worse have caffeine to avoid sleeping 💀. The other two doodles I drew because I woke up one morning and immediately imagined Simon with raccoon stripe hair for no reason.

This one is based on a tumblr post, it says “(Simon) the psychiatrist diagnosed me with divine madness” “(Christopher) any other diagnosises you’d like to share?” “(Simon) Autism”. That ending panel of Simon saying autism ended up a sticker in a discord server I’m in lmaooooo. Also I need to have more Simon and Christopher interactions cause I think they’d be friends aaaaa

The top doodle is based on a Simon MMD model I found of him as a Vocaloid and I thought that was hilarious and banger, we need more people making fun crossover stuff like that in the world lol. The bottom one is just him vibin(?). Idk he seems pretty distressed, but that’s his usual state so uh—

Another little pose doodle. I think his preferred sitting position is like criss cross applesauce on the floor. I don’t think he’d sit normally in chairs at all. I am now picturing him leaning a chair back too far help 💀.

This one is based on this meme that’s kinda poking fun at the art styles commonly found in yaoi with the last one being left blank for putting whatever you like there and implying in a comedic way that it’s ‘straight man yaoi’, I’ve seen ones with things like football players or idk Breaking Bad put there lol. Basically I saw the meme and realized that all the different styles kinda lined up too well with some Simon designs and well yeah this happened 💀💀💀. So we got Ayami Kojima’s design as “straight woman yaoi”, the NES cover art/X68000 as “gay man yaoi”, Simon’s Quest as “lesbian yaoi”, and Captain N thrown into “straight man yaoi” lmaooo.

Okie that’s all for this one, I will make more inevitably lol

[puckinghell]

Fall | Carter Hart

Summary: While Carter Hart tries to teach your 2nd grade class how to skate, you try not to fall... flat on your face, or, for him. Words: 2826 of 7433 Note: The request was for 1 imagine but I accidentally came up with a 3 part series... This is part 1. Also I was today years old when I realized Carter Hart and Shawn Mendes have the exact same energy

When you told your roommate goodbye this morning, you hadn’t done so with the expectation that it was going to be a nice, peaceful day. After all, any day spent with about 25 seven year olds was destined to be filled with chaos, and that was how you spent all of your days lately.

But you could’ve never had guessed what the universe had in store for you.

If Nancy, the head mistress and the woman monitoring your progress during your internship, had told you there was currently a pink elephant flying through your classroom, you would’ve looked at her with the same expression you’re currently wearing.

“What do you mean Babs is sick?”

Nancy shoots you an understanding look, filled with empathy and maybe pity, when she shrugs. “Just that. She has the flu. There’s no way she can make it today, and we simply don’t have the means to get a substitute teacher in. You know how excited the kids are about this day, and you’re basically a teacher yourself.”

You’re not; you’re only halfway through your education to hopefully one day become a teacher, and this internship was meant to give you a first taste of the job. You loved it, so far; the kids were amazing, if sometimes a little rowdy, your days were never boring, and Babs, whose class you’d been observing, had been nothing but a role model to you. She was exactly the kind of teacher you hoped to one day be; fun, loving, caring, and stern when need be, but always fair.

She’d taught you a lot, but definitely not enough for you to be send out on your own.

“I don’t think I can do it, Nancy.” You hate the way your voice quivers, but you can’t help it. You know if today gets canceled, you’ll be letting down the kids. They’d been looking forward to it for weeks.

“They’re so excited, Y/N,” Nancy says softly, playing on your feelings of guilt even more. “And I don’t think we could reschedule. The Flyers’ season is almost over, and it was so generous of them to even invite us in the first place…”

With a few very fervent hockey fans in her class, Babs had told the kids to write a letter to Carter Hart, the new Flyers goalie. You’re not a big hockey fan, put in absolutely no effort whatsoever to keep up with the Flyers, in fact, but even you know that he’d been brought in in a highly criticized, time’s up-desperate move by management, and he’s still young; around your age. However, he’s so far surpassing all expectations and the kids had been talking about him with so much excitement, Babs had thought it would be a nice gesture to write him a little thank you letter.

Undoubtedly, she’d been thinking that it would be good for them to learn to show some gratitude. Undoubtedly, she’d not expected to get a response back from the Flyers, inviting the whole class to the arena to participate in a special Flyers practice, where they would be hosted by Carter Hart himself.

And of all days possible, she has to get the flu today.

“How would I even get there?” you wonder out loud, and a smile appears on Nancy’s face. Your resolve is falling, and she knows it too.

“We have a bus ready. Just get them in the bus, get them out the bus. Someone from the Flyers will meet you there. Try to keep them from accidentally murdering the Flyers hot new goalie. The bus will still be there at the end of the day, bring them back. That’s all.”

You sigh, nod. “Okay.” There’s no way you can let down the kids. It all sounds so simple.

Of course with a bunch of 2nd graders, nothing would ever be simple.

“Rachel, please keep on your shoes. We’re still in the bus. Simon, don’t pull Darya’s hair! Patrick, close that window!”

“It’s gonna be a long day, huh?” Paul, the bus driver you had seen on many field trips, sends you a sorrowful look, and you sink back into the uncomfortable chair you’ve been sitting on for the past hour.

Of course, on the one day you really need to get these kids somewhere, there’s traffic.

“It’s gonna be a disaster,” you mumble. “I don’t know anything about the Flyers, Paul. Their biggest superstar could walk straight past me, and I wouldn’t recognize him.”

“Superstars probably prefer it that way, you know,” Paul tells you wisely, and you sink deeper into your chair, focusing on the road.

Finally, you get there, and somehow you manage to get all the kids out of the bus and into the arena without any casualties.

Well, Thomas falls and busts his knee, but you tell him that would cause the hockey players to mistake him for one of their own, and he stops crying after that.

“Miss Whackerman’s class?” An older woman stands in the hallway, a smile on her face and a clipboard in her hands. “I’m Janine, I’m with the communicaties and PR department and I’ll be with you today.”

“Oh!” You quickly shake her hand. “Y/N. Miss Whackerman is actually at home with the flu, I’m taking over the class today.”

Janine’s eyes travel down your body and you try to ignore the judgement in them. You’re not even sure what she doesn’t like; that you look too young to be a teacher (you are), or that you don’t look put together enough (when you picked this particular hoodie this morning, you didn’t know you would be going anywhere).

“Very well,” she says finally, and to her credit, she’s still smiling. “Follow me, then.”

You try to shush your students as they follow Janine through the hallways of the arena, but it’s clear the excitement is getting to them. Fast whispers and little pushes ensue, but luckily, you get to the locker room safely.

“Here we are,” says Janine. “You can go inside and start putting on their gear. I’ll go get Carter.” At the sound of their favorite goalie’s name, the kids all fall quiet, their eyes widening with realization.

You barely register the sound of Janine’s heels walking away, when you, too, realize what she’d said.

Gear?

You open the door to the locker room and are met with a room much bigger and lighter than you’d expected. In every single stall hangs a jersey, with a kid’s last name on it.

Squeals of excitement explode around you and suddenly little bodies are running past you, their little hands grabbing the jerseys and pulling them down. There are skates, and pads, and helmets, and you have no idea what to do with any of them, but some of the kids seem to be familiar with them and start dressing themselves.

“Miss, I don’t know how to tie my skates.”

You look down to find Yasmin standing there. She’s a shy little girl, and it has taken her a few weeks to even look you in the eyes, but when she started talking to you it had felt like your greatest accomplishment ever. Now, you’re staring at the skates in her hands with horror in your eyes.

“Uhm.”

“Need help with those?”

The voice that interrupts your moment of panic is deep and unfamiliar, and yet, at the sound of it, almost all of your students turn around in lightning speed. When you also turn, you understand why.

Opposite you stands Carter Hart. You don’t know much about him but you’ve Googled him on the bus ride here, wanting to make sure you wouldn’t make a fool out of yourself by not recognizing him. On Google, he’d seemed cute, but in real life, he’s gorgeous. With toned arms, which he has crossed over his muscular chest, and a lot taller than you’d somehow expected, he looks like he’s walked straight out of a gym membership commercial, and you know what? 

If guys that went to the gym looked like that, you might actually go.

You’re torn out of your oggling moment by Yasmin’s little hands clinging around your leg. She’s staring up at Carter with big eyes and you can’t help but giggle at the starstruck, but terrified, look on her face.

“We really, really do,” you tell Carter honestly. “I can’t say I’ve ever tied a skate in my life.” Carter laughs at that, and points to the bench in Yasmin’s stall. “Take a seat, honey.” There’s something soft and friendly to his voice, and it doesn’t surprise you that Yasmin obliges immediately.

“It took me a while to learn how to tie them, too,” Carter speaks softly, while he sits down next to Yasmin and extends his hand. “Can you give me your leg?”

You watch in awe as Yasmin does as she’s told, then, looks up at him and quietly says: “Thank you.”

Unbelievable. It took you three weeks to get her to talk to you. You understand Carter is a lot more attractive to talk to than you, but still. Three weeks!

Carter ties the skates, then stands up and looks around the room. “Anyone else need help?”

Everyone raises their hands, even the ones that clearly don’t need help at all, and you laugh. “No, no lying! If you’ve got your gear on, sit down and wait for the rest. Who actually needs help?” Only a few hands remain, and Carter goes by them one by one, dutifully tying skates and tucking jerseys and strapping on pads.

“Is anyone here a goalie?” he asks, but the room stayed quiet. You know a bunch of the kids have played hockey before, but so far you’ve not heard of any aspiring goalies. When no answer comes, Carter shrugs. “I guess you all just have to shoot on me then.”

This causes a loud, communal cheer to erupt, and everyone follows him to the ice.

You sit on the bench on the side of the rink as you watch the kids. Some of them are actually decent skaters, others are clinging to a chair for dear life.

If you were on the ice, that’d be you, so you stay where you are, burying your hands in the pockets of your hoodie.

Who knew an ice rink would be so cold.

Apart from Carter, you’ve been joined by Janine again, a bunch of ice girls, and of course, Gritty. In Gritty, Carter has some competition for favorite, as your class has crowded around the giant orange mascot and is currently trying to bring him down.

“He’s popular with the kids, huh?” Carter skates over to the boards, leaning over them to peek into the bench. “Are you not coming out?”

“It’s kinda weird, cause he’s terrifying,” you admit with a smile. “And no, I’ve never skated in my life.”

“Ah, come on, time to change that!” With seemingly no effort, Carter hops over the boards and plops himself down on the bench next to you, asking Janine to go get you some skates before you manage to protest. While he speaks to her about what your size is, you allow yourself to look at him for a few seconds.

God, he’s handsome. It’s so ridiculously unfair, that most of the time when you see him on TV, his face is hidden by that giant hockey mask.

He’s not wearing that, today. In fact, he’s not wearing any gear, just some skates and sweatpants with a hoodie.

“Do you know how to put them on?” Carter turns towards you as he talks and if he catches you staring, he’s polite enough not to call you out on it, although the hint of a smile dancing on his face leads you to believe he definitely noticed.

Feeling your cheeks heat up, you frown. “Uhm, I mean, it can’t be hard.” You wiggle your feet into your skates.

“Let me tie them for you,” Carter hurries to say, when he sees you struggling, and drops to his knees to grab your foot. And, well, you don’t want your skin to burn at his touch, but you can’t really help that. “They need to be tight, or you’re gonna break an ankle.”

That’s when you remember most kids have tied their own skates, and a wave of worry washes over you.

It’s quickly pushed away with worry over your own health and wellbeing, when Carter stands up and extends his hand. “Ready?”

You snort out a laugh. “Absolutely not.” Yet, there’s no way you could say no to those blue eyes of his, and you grab his hand and let him pull you up.

The ice, unsurprisingly, is slippery, and you cling to the boards for dear life. Carter’s laughter rings through the air.

“Do you want me to bring one of those chairs?” he teases, then reaches out and grabs your elbow, attempting to steady you. You glare at him, but your pride takes over and you try to let go of the boards.

Just when you think you’ve found your footing, Rachel comes skating over. It’s clear that it’s not her first time on skates, and your pride takes another blow as you realize the 7 year skates better then you probably ever will.

“Miss Y/N, you’re skating!” Rachel might be better at skating, but she isn’t that good at stopping, and before you grasp what’s happening, she bumps into your leg and your legs slip out from under you.

For a split second, you’re convinced this is it for you; you feel yourself plummeting towards the ice, and surely you will hit your head and split it open and Carter’s worried face will be the last thing you ever see.

Not that that’s the worst thing you could see, but you’re not ready to die.

But instead of the cold hard ice, you’re met with something hard and warm, strong hands gripping your arms as you bang your head against his chest, the soft fabric of his hoodie against your cheek.

“Wow, careful.” His voice is soft, his breath warm against your hair as he speaks. You have to push against his chest to get yourself back upright, and damn your face for flushing as red as it does at just the mere contact. His hands remain on you, but slowly go down from your arms to your hands, grabbing them. “About that chair…” he drawls, and you would’ve hit him if you weren’t using your hands to hold onto him for dear life.

“Sorry, miss Y/N!” Rachel says. She fell too, but is already standing back upright. “Isn’t it lucky that Carter was there to save your life?”

“Save your life, huh?” Carter chuckles, and there is a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

“So lucky,” you tell Rachel, who beams up at you before skating away again, and then you look up at Carter. “Saving my life might be a bit dramatic, but you did save me from going face first into the floor, so thank you.”

“My pleasure,” he hums, and that’s when you realize your hands are still in his.

Just when you’re starting to think you couldn’t possibly blush any more than you already were.

Then, a voice calls from the tunnel.

“Hartsy, time for practice, dude!” You assume it’s one of Carter’s teammates, although you have no clue who it could be.

“Coming!” Carter calls back, then shoots you an apologetic look. “Time to wrap this up, I guess.”

You swallow. “Could you, uhm, perhaps, bring me back to the bench?”

Ah, you definitely can blush more.

He laughs, and slowly starts guiding you towards the bench, one of your hands in his and his other hand on the small of your back, softly pushing you. You gratefully grab the boards and manage to climb back onto the normal floor yourself.

Thank God.

“Kids, time to say goodbye to Carter!”

Immediately, the kids come skating over to him, giving him hugs and high fives and saying thank you. Only Yasmin stays behind – her skating has been, possibly, even worse than yours – and Carter goes to get her, lifting her in the air and carrying her back to the safety of the ground.

“Thank you, mister Hart,” Yasmin says, her voice soft but clear, and he smiles at her.

“You’re so welcome, Yasmin.”

Finally, he comes over to you. “Thanks for bringing them, this was fun,” he says, and are you imagining it, or does he look genuinely sorry for having to leave?

“Thanks for saving my life,” you joke, and he laughs.

He waves again, and then he skates away. But before he reaches the tunnel, he calls over his shoulder: “See you around!”

And when you find out later from Nancy that he’s going to come back to your school to do a PE class for the kids, well, it’s in a completely professional way that you feel excited like a kid on Christmas morning.

[perfectlittleking]

Chapter 4 of the Carry On Round Robin is posted!! If you haven’t read any of the Round Robin, I highly suggest it! It’s a brilliant chaos going on! I’m so happy to be a part of this! So without further ado, chapter 4!  

Fire is a Bad Master

Penelope

It’s been a few days since the last time Simon had broached about Basil. I could state that I have been enjoying meals about the block, but it’s worrying me. One day about discussing him is fine, but three days? It’s completely out of the ordinary for Simon. At least he’s focusing more on his studies, so there’s a benefit of this.

I’ve noticed that he no longer has any dark circles under his eyes anymore. Must mean he’s been getting sleep lately and not spending every night stalking his roommate. He’s been spending more time with Agatha and I, which could explain why he’s more fixated on his classes.

This morning, Simon seemed to be running late to breakfast. I had grabbed himself a plate full of scrambled eggs, bangers, and two scones with a side of butter. Though, I was thinking he would be here on time. I sat across from Agatha,  who was more focused on a Magic Words assignment, than her breakfast. I couldn't help but notice that she was working on tomorrow's homework.

I decided to speak up since the silence felt awkward.

“You’ve noticed anything weird with Simon, Agatha?” I asked before taking a bite of toast with jam.

She barely looked up towards me when she answered. “Less stalking on Basil?”

I gave a nod.  “So I’m not the only one…” I didn't mean for it to slip out. Though, I’m glad I’m not the only one noticing Simon’s changed behaviour.

“I see no problem with it actually.” She seemed to smile, but it faltered for a moment.

I hadn’t realised why until I saw Simon take the seat right next to Agatha. A smile was growing on him as he noticed his breakfast, hopefully it hadn’t gone cold.

“Morning Pen, Agatha.” Simon didn’t even take a second to breath between his words and shoveling his eggs into his mouth.

“Morning, Simon.” I was glad he was still eating, but I reckon he could still catch the plague and still have an appetite.

It was mostly silent when Simon ate his breakfast. A smear of butter getting on the corner of his mouth, but was soon cleaned off by Agatha, who wiped it away. How could Agatha smile doing that? She seemed like a mother to a child wiping the butter from Simon’s lips. I know I don’t have a say much in their relationship, but I feel like they don’t fit well in their puzzling life. The more I spend time with them, the more it sickens me.

By the time Simon finished, we had about ten minutes until our first class of the day. We all have different classes, so we had to go our separate ways. I’m still worried about Simon.

Baz

I’m quite glad neither of us, Snow or I, has spoken of our icy night alone in our room. It’s still exceedingly embarrassing. Warmth grows in my cheeks every time I think of how we bundled up in my bed so close together. Even our legs were a tangled mess. It’s something I would dream of, hell I have, but for it to actually happen feels impossible.

Luckily, I have been fortunate that my studies and football practice has filled me with time away from Snow. The only time we see each other now is classes and when we are both in the room. Neither of us has spoken a word of that night or any of the days. If we do speak, it’s an inflamed remark at each other, which I regret sometimes. Slowly, we are getting back into our routine.

As of now, my focus has been on the current class, Magic Words. Miss Possibelf was projecting a model of the classroom on the blackboard.

“Now, for this assignment,” she started to say. “You will need to get into a group of three.”

She waved her wand over the model as she said, “Reveal the hidden.” Which had caused names appear the model of the classroom. New seating arrangement. “Now these seats are only for this project. Now get into your assigned groups.”

I grabbed my bag and glanced up towards the diagram. Scanning every desk, I looked for my name. The desk in the back corner of the classroom had my name written down. I took another glance to check who I was working with. Niall. That was fine with me. I knew one of my group mates. This was going well. The other was…

No.

I was stuck with Snow? If only I could ask Miss Possibelf for a change, but she was never one to bend the rules, especially her own. Wonderful. I made my way to my new assigned seat.

Niall was already sitting there, since that was his original assigned desk. The issue was, he didn’t have a chair next to him, so I was stuck to sitting next to Snow during this lesson. I placed my bag between the table and my chair before sitting down. Once Snow had sat down to the right of me, I shot him a glare. Dark, slightly deadly. Usually those kept him quiet, so I hope it works today.

“Now, we will be working on chapter two section seven. Page 173. The objective is to light the candle in the middle of your desk. Your group mates are there for support. Take turns trying to cast it. If you get it to light, please use ‘Make a wish’ to extinguish the flame.” Professor Possibelf said. “You may begin.”

Fear soon blanketed me. It wasn’t the topic, I was virtuoso magician when it came to fire, that got me unease. What concerned me was Snow. I could deal with being paired up with Snow with an assignment. The idea of Snow casting a fire spell next to me is a recipe for disaster. Not only was Snow the worst magician ever, but I’m actually flammable. I grabbed a glimpse of Snow, who was on edge. The nerve of him being nervous of this, that bloody git. I tried to keep my posture.

I ran my hand through my hair to clear my head. Niall was the first to cast one of the spells from the book that we had opened between us three. He stretched his wand out and pointed it to the yellow tinted candle that sat on the table. His eyes jumped from the book to the candle every so often as he tried to remember the spell.

“Fire starts with sparks.” He exclaimed confidently as sparks shot from the end of his wand to the candle's wick. A few of them had jumped into his notes, only singeing the paper on it's edges.

Simon seemed to let out a soft chuckle seeing the sparks jump. I only shot him a glower. How dare he laugh at Niall. Though, I must say, his spell work was a bit sloppy. Better than Snow’s, I can foretell.

Niall extinguished the flame on the candle and patted down his notes. Smoke rose from the wick of the candle, but the flame was suppressed. A soft sigh came from him.

“It was an adequate attempt, Niall.” I spoke with a slight of appraisal. Not like me, but it was only to get Snow rivaled up.

This time it was my turn. I ran my free hand through my hair once more to get the loose bangs out of my eyes. My right hand stretched out and my wand pointed to the candle. There was no glancing at the book or second guessing. I had read this chapter before, so I knew which ones were listed or not.

“Where there is smoke, there is fire.” I delivered the incantation perfectly. The smoke that came from the previous flame had blossomed into a new flame. The flame was flickering strong on the candle thanks to my magic. The spell only works if there is smoke from a previous flame.

Niall and Snow seemed a bit surprised, more Snow than Niall. Niall had given a nod of praise towards me.  I guess seeing my performance left Simon stupefied with his mouth agape. I had to give an eye roll from seeing that.

“You’ll catch flies like that.” I smirked before eliminating the flame on the candle.

Simon

It shocked me to see Baz being able to pull off that sort of spell. I glanced down to the textbook to notice that was one of the more difficult ones. Then again, he did tell me that’s how he does magic; by imagining lighting a match inside him.

Now it was my turn. I swallowed back my panic. Magic has never been my strong suit, so holding my wand felt unbalanced. What made it worse was Baz and Niall were looking at me like I was about to burn the school down. I was looking at a few of the different spells. I didn’t want to be the one to do a toddler level one, but also I wasn’t brave enough to attempt at one of the mastery ones.

“We don’t have all day, Snow. Pick a spell.” Baz’s words were laced with more hatred than usual.

These couple of weeks has caused our relationship (can I even call it that?) to be more unclear than ever. Before I was able to somewhat understand what Baz’s gestures meant, but now it’s all a murky puddle. Nothing is making sense. Now he’s being crueler than ever. Guess that’s what I get for cuddling him the other night and questioning his gestures from the other.

I stumble back to reality and reply to Baz. “Okay.. okay..” It was all I could mumble out before picking out one of the middle difficulty spells.

With my wand pointed to the candle, I spoke the spell as best as I could. “Fire is a good servant, but a bad master.”

I didn’t see any flames or sparks burst from my wand, but immediately  felt heat burning on my chest after I said the spell. I hissed out from pain and dropped my wand. I had looked down and noticed my blazer and shirt doused in dancing orange flames.

“Make a wish!” I heard coming from my left. Baz. His tone was angered. “You absolute twat! How can you even save the world if you can’t even whole your wand right?” His eyes weren’t towards mine as he spoke. No, they were staring at my chest.

I wondered why Baz was looking at my chest, so I let my eyes follow to there. My clothes were scorched and practically showing more skin than I wished. The whole right side of my blazer was ash. I hadn’t worn my jumper today, which I’m thankful, but my shirt was blackened and partly missing in places.

Niall, who apparently left the table when I rang the spell out, was coming over with Professor Possibelf. A disappointed look rested on her features.

“Mr. Pitch, since you have your jumper on, may you loan it to Mr. Snow for the rest of the class?” She suggested.

Those grey eyes of his seemed to jump open. He parted his lips like he wanted to protest, but the look on Miss Possibelf wouldn’t let it happen. Soon, Baz was taking off his blazer and placing it, slightly folded, on the table. Half of the class was watching him tug that ruby red jumper off. The white button up shirt seemed to be pulled up as well a bit. A bit of his stomach was shown. (I swore I heard a whistle.)

“Here.” He practically threw the jumper at me with all his strength.

My eyes stared at him. Once he had turned back to put his blazer back on, I glanced down at his jumper.  It was strong of the smell of Baz. I intoxicated by the bold cedar and bergamot and I didn't have to put it on.

Baz

He completely ruined his uniform and before he could put on my jumper he had to take off his tattered one. First he tossed the blackened blazer that on his bag, then unbuttoned the white collar shirt. This was the closest I ever gotten to watch Snow undress. I had to pull my eyes away from the sight.

I tried to distract myself with the textbook, but I kept finding my glaze slipping back to Snow. He wasn’t the fittest bloke, but he still had some definition. It wasn’t muscle. I shook away everything and started to write my notes from this section.

Once Snow finished undressing, he sat down with my jumper on. It seemed a bit tight around his shoulders, but long on the sleeves. Guess I have longer arms than him.

“Uh… thanks…” He mumbled softly.

Why thank me? Forced by the professor to give him my sweater. I ignored his voice and decided to act like he was invisible, but it was difficult. He was wearing my jumper. I wasn’t too fond of him wearing my clothes. He’s going to stretch the damn thing out. I would have rather worn his, but I don’t need anymore fuel for my dreams. This month has already been giving me enough.

The rest of the class was quiet. Snow didn’t seem to talk for once, thank Crowley. Miss Possibelf had changed topics and made us work on taking notes on the book. Guess she didn’t wish for another student to go up in flames.

Once bell rang to dismiss class, Miss Possibelf tried to remind everyone of the homework. I doubt anyone heard her. I grabbed my bag and was about to walk to Latin with Niall, but I heard a voice call out my name.

“Baz! Baz, wait!” It was Snow. Of course. What else did he want to do to me? I was already getting chilly without the jumper. I don’t need another example of how cold I can get.

“What is it Snow?” I asked, glaring towards him. I need to be getting to class right now. “Say it quick.” I added.

“Uh.. did you… I’m just…” He was a stuttering mess. This was a disaster.

“Snow, spit it out or I will take it from you.”

“I just wanted to ask… did you want me to uh… I can just place your jumper on your bed during lunch.” He seemed to be meddling with the hem.

“Whatever. Just don’t burn this one.” I turned on my heels and headed after Niall towards our class.

Part of me would want to burn the jumper, but I knew when he takes it off it’s going to smell like him. It’s going to smell of his magic, his smoke. It’s going to smell like a campfire, and I wanted it to. Maybe that’s why I want to borrow his clothes. I want to smell his smoky, sticky, magic.