#snowbazprom

[wearesungreenmylove]

Snowbaz Prom 2k18

Thank you to @its-okay-that-ur-not and @alliaskofyou for letting me ask you questions about prom! also I quote cj in there so look forward to that ;) (the line was pure gold, how could I not use it)

Word Count: 944

Normal AU

The water is gone within an hour.

And there’s this giant crowd of horny teenagers surrounding the speakers, all grinding on each other like their fucking lives depend on it and trying their best to dance.

I turn away in disgust, nose turned up, and head towards the snack table. Everyone’s been avoiding it, besides Snow that is. Honestly, I’m surprised he and Agatha aren’t in the weird dancing circle.

But there he is, standing awkwardly by the snack table, stuffing his face full of cream puffs. You know, the kind they have for dessert at a barbecue(I’ve only ever been to one, with Dev’s family in 4th year, but I got enough of a sense of what they're like to know that they're really not all they're hyped up to be).

He, Snow that is, is currently wearing a dark blue suit with black lapels with a white undershirt and a purple tie, and it looks like he actually tried to tame his hair tonight (or maybe that was Penny)(honestly I think it was Penny), because it looks somewhat contained, but in a really messy way that's just so Snow it's hard to explain.

I wander over. If nothing more than to tease Snow about his wolfing down all the food on the table. At least, that's what I try and tell myself. There's no one else for me to talk to here besides Dev and Niall, but they're both..um, a little..preoccupied at the moment.

Not together, no, they're like the straightest people I know. Almost immediately after we arrived Dev and Niall joined their girlfriends, Sara and Emily, out on the dance floor, and haven't come back since. Too busy grinding on their girlfriends to bother talking to their best friend I suppose.

  I wander over to Snow.

  "Snow," I say.

  He turns around, cream puff halfway between his mouth and plate. He's got some cream and crumbs on the left side of his face, and I wonder if I could just lick it off and go. Maybe kiss him somewhere in between there. Yes, I'd lick it off the corner of his mouth, the area bordering on cheek, then I'd kiss the living daylights out of him, and then I'd go. I'd just go. And maybe never come back. Aleister Crowley, Snow'd have a field day with that.

  He smiles.

  He fucking smiles at me.

  Did someone spike the punch? Something must be wrong, Simon bloody Snow just fucking smiled at me.

   I look down at the table still stock-piled with snacks, and then my eyes drift to the empty plate where the cream puffs were, and now only a few crumbs are left. Oh no..

 I look back up and he’s still smiling this ginormous goofy grin that’s honestly so sweet I melt a little.

 “Simon..” I say hesitantly, “How many cream puffs did you have?”

 “Oh, not that many, just a fe-” he stops when he sees the empty plate. “Um,” he brings his hand up to rub the back of his neck sheepishly, “All of them.” He looks up at me. Crowley his eyes are so ordinary. Maybe that’s why I love them so much; they’re the one thing about him that seem real, everything else is just a fantasy I’ve dreamt up.

 “Okay, so we’re gonna go get you cleaned up, okay?” I whisper. Best to keep it out of everyone’s attention that I’m trying to help him. I mean, Snow probably won’t remember this after tonight, so  why not indulge myself for a moment by actually being nice to him for a change.

 “What? Why?!” He says somewhat loudly, enough for a couple people to look over at us suspiciously. Crowley. Snow’s always been one for making a scene.

 I turn his shoulder towards me, so he’s not facing the rest of the world. I don’t think this would be a good thing for the chaperones to know about, considering it was probably one of the seniors who did it, and I don’t wanna be that one kid who ruined prom for everyone. “Simon, those all had weed in them.”

 “Nobody told me,” he grumbles.

 “Bloody hell, Snow, that’s kind-of the point, so that the adults don’t find out.” I start to drag him out towards the hall leading to the guy’s bathroom.

 “You called me Simon before.”

 “No I didn’t,” I turn back to face him and he’s fucking smirking at me. “Shut up,” I mumble, and go back to leading him out of the cafeteria.

 Ms. Rowell’s been standing guard at the door for the last hour, something about how they don’t want any babies being made on school grounds or whatever. Haha, no need to worry about me ma'am, I’m fucking gay as hell. But she let’s us through after I mumble something about “bathroom” and “emergency”.

 Once we get into the bathroom I let go of Simon’s wrist and google ‘how to take care of someone who just had weed’ while wetting a paper towel. The top three sites are all telling me what to do if someone’s addicted, which is not helpful in this case.

 I turn around and he’s right there. “M’sleepy,” he says before letting his head fall on my shoulder.

 “Oh,” is all I manage to say, even though it’s more of the ghost of a word, a breath, if that. Then Simon is pushing his forehead against my neck, and holy fuck his nose is moving across my collarbones in the most amazing way, and his arms are draped around me. I just want to melt into him and let the world disappear. And so I do.

Okay, so yes Ms. Rowell from Rainbow(not an actual depiction of her, I just needed a name) but apparently at my school we have a Ms. Rowell, and that makes me happy(I wish it was Rainbow, but sorry, I’m not moving to Omaha(I think my mom would actually disown me))

[zadass]

I didn’t manage anything bigger but the idea of the snowbazprom was so cute, I wanted to at least post these small doodles

[snowkatze]

Cloud Nine

Genre: fluff (so much fluff) Word Count: 2100 Summary: Whilst Simon can deny his crush on Baz, he can’t deny the thoughts he keeps having about them - going to prom together. That leaves him with no other choice but to ask him out.

I've never been good at dancing. Every year at prom, I make a fool of myself. Every year it's the same – an evening of Agatha's eye rolls, her pained expression when I step on her feet and my desperate search for excuses to get back to the buffet. But I don't know what it's going to be like this year. Because Agatha is not my girlfriend any more, and I'm not sure if she's still my friend. But I have to go, obviously, because it's my last year at Watford and I can't miss out on that. On anything. And I can't say that I haven't imagined it. With him. I know that he looks absolutely stunning in a suit. And he's a graceful dancer.

I really shouldn't ask him. I'm a mess. We both know I'm a mess. He would only laugh at me. And it's not like he wants to. But the idea of it has caused a really painful longing in my chest – the longing for his hands on my arm, his soft whispers, his easy smile and his eyes, grey eyes burning into my soul. It's all I can think about.

So I guess it's settled – I'm making a fool of myself again. At least one thing I'm quite good at.

I'm thinking about the right time to pop the question. When he's getting ready for sleep, when he's lying in the bed across the room, when we sit together in the dining room. My enemy. No, not my enemy. We're on a truce. My almost-friend. But whenever I try to speak up, the words get stuck in my throat.

I'm sitting in class, and it's all I can think of. Music. Dancing. Crowley, I'm a horrible dancer. And I'm horrible, and I have horrible dreams, but I can't stop myself. Smirks and that mischievous glint in his eyes. And all the what-ifs – too many what-ifs, too many questions of what it'd be like, not to consider it. Would he give me a rose? Would he take my hand? Would he want to dance to the slow songs? Would he be a charmer, a gentlemen? Or would he still tease me?

I have to at least ask. I want to tap his shoulder, but he seems to actually concentrate on the class. I should too, but I can't get the thoughts out of my head. That's why I have to ask. Once he's rejected me and made it clear that there's not the slightest chance of any dancing happening, that's when I can stop thinking about it. (When I have to stop thinking about it.) It's not like I like him. Like that. Obviously. It's just that I want to know what the soft fabric of his suit would feel like underneath my fingers. What he would smell like from up-close, so close that my nose is almost touching his temple. It's not like I want to kiss him, or go on dates with him, or tell him I'm desperately in love with him. (Except maybe once, only to know what it would be like. But not in a way that he would ever remember – I would do it if it were a video game and I could just go back to the way it was before. No lasting damages.)

But it's just a dance. It's not a confession. I can ask him (and it won't be too horrible, I suppose). Except I can't get the words out. Physically. I'm bright red, and I can't say it. I rip a piece off the paper in front of me and scribble it onto it. “Will you go to prom with me?”

Perfect. Now I only have to slide it over to him. Except I can't do it, and my hands are frozen around the piece of paper. Not a love confession, for Crowley's sake. It's not a big deal. It's not even a grand gesture. Just sliding it over. But it seems like a mountain to overcome. I side-eye him and watch the line of his nose, his brow furrowing slightly, because he's thinking, and I manage to relax my hands, and not crush the paper too hard. It's the only way to get the thoughts out of my head. I put the paper in front of him, and he frowns, about to ask me a question, but then he picks it up and reads the line. I hold my breath and wait. He's going to rip the paper apart, no doubt. But he just keeps staring at it.

“Baz,” I whisper, and I want to take everything back. It's like he doesn't even notice me. The bell rings and the room starts getting noisy, but he doesn't move. Everyone leaves the room, except for him and me, and I keep waiting. “Baz,” I repeat, because I don't know what else to say to fix this. I reach for the paper. “Just – just forget about it -” I say. If there's one thing I know it's how to properly embarrass myself. Crowely, I'm an idiot. But just before I can take the paper, he swats my hand away.

“Yes,” he says courtly and leaves the room before I have the chance to answer.

“Why are you grinning like that?” Penny asks at dinner. “I'm not grinning,” I say.

“Yes, you are,” she frowns. “You have been all day.” I move my lips and realize that, yes, I have been grinning. Huh. I bite it back.

“I don't – It's not like it's a date. It's not like that.” “You have a date? With whom?” “Not a date. With Baz.” “What? You have a non-date with Baz? How did that happen?” “It didn't happen. Nothing happened. Except... he said yes.” I can feel the grin again. Dammit.

“Simon, you're going to have to be a little more clear. I'm not a mind-reader. Yet.”

“Oh, sorry.”

I wonder if Baz is going to wear a new suit. And what colour it's going to be. I think gray suits him best. It would match his eyes.

“Simon?” He has worn a gray suit in fifth year. A blue one last year. Obviously, he can make anything work. He's infuriatingly perfect. Must be a vampire thing.

“Simon.”

“What?” “You were telling me how you and Baz are going to get married.” “W-what?! No. I didn't – Why would you say that? It's not like – No. It's not a date. Friends can go to prom together, right?”

I'm blushing again.

“Sure,” Penny muses. “But the don't usually make this much of a fuzz about it. What's going on, Simon?” I sigh.

“I might have... noticed some... urges. Now that we're friends with Baz.” “Urges?” “Not – not like that. I just... he's just... he's really, really pretty, you know what I mean?” “Aha,” she says and looks at me like she knows something I don't, and it infuriates me.

“I just want to hold his hand. That's all.” “I get it. I... I guess this makes sense.”

“So... We're going to prom together. I asked him. He said yes. It was awesome.”

“I'm sorry, Simon, but this sounds a lot like you -” “No. Don't say it. Please.” “I think you've got it bad for him.” “No! No. I don't have anything.” Just a little crush, at most.

She looks at me sceptically. “Sure. Whatever you say.” I look at her, distraught, and I must look somewhat lost, because she takes pity on me.

“So, there's this new spell that I've discovered...” And I can breathe again.

Baz wears a suit that matches his eyes. He looks great.

“You look great,” I tell him, because I've got no filter.

“You're not so bad yourself,” he skims my outfit, “Snow.”

I smile, hopefully not too nervously, and look towards the dance floor. I don't know how to ask. There are a few couples swaying, but not really dancing. The song is slow. Probably not the best one to dance to with a friend. I should wait.

“So, may I have this dance?” Baz asks, and smirks cheekily, and my knees go weak. “I've never been good at dancing,” I say, which startles him. “Oh. I mean – You don't have to. Forget I asked,” he says dismissively, but he looks away and I'm afraid he misunderstood. “No, no, I want to dance. I'm just no good at it.” “Ah, that we can fix. As it happens, I am an excellent teacher.” “Are you now?” “You're not thinking about that one time I helped you studying last month, are you?” “I have no doubt that you are good at explaining, but -” “Yeah, yeah, I promise to be patient this time, alright?” “Alright.” He takes my hand. It's cold. But I can feel something tingling in my chest – a weirdly giddy feeling.

“Just put your hand on my arm,” he whispers then. “Don't worry about it. I'll lead.” His voice is so close to my ear. My heart beat speeds up. He puts a hand on my back. “You're gonna have to come a little closer,” he mutters, his gaze low. What is he looking at? Is he looking at me lips? I stumble forward and almost crash into his chest.

“And now?” “Now you just – step to the side. Like this.” He guides me. And he's weirdly calm and nice. I'm afraid he can hear how my heart is about to leap in my throat – especially considering how close we are, and how he's a vampire.

“Crowley, Snow, did Wellbelove never even teach you how to waltz?” “You're the only weirdo who would waltz at a party. The dances we did are a lot less... posh. We would, like, dance Cha Cha and stuff like that.” “So, you know how to dance Cha Cha?” “Uh... no...” “Thought so.” He's smirking again. Another song came on and it had a faster beat.

“What now?” “Now, you take my other hand.” I'm holding both of his hands. Crowley. “Then, you do take step forward, like this... and then...” Suddenly, Baz whirls me around and I let out a yelp. I hold onto his hands and we spin quickly. A few other students have to make room for us, but Baz just laughs, and I join him.

“Wow, Snow,” he says, “look what a great dancer you can be.” “So what do you call this dance?” My head is getting dizzy, but I don't want to stop. I just want to keep spinning and let the world fall out of it's angles.

“I call it 'Killer tornado',” he smirks. “That's horrib- aaah,” I yell, when he suddenly spins me the other way round and knocks a guy in tux out of the way. We both break out laughing and I let go off his hand, stumble away from him. Panting, we lean side to side against the wall.

“Do you -” I gasp for breath, “- invite all your dates to high school homicide missions?”

His eyes go wide. “This is a date?” “What? No. Of course not. We're friends.” He looks at me doubtful, but then he looks resigned.

“I thought so...” “What, I mean, did you – did you want it to be a date?” He remains silent. “Baz?” He gulps. “Baz, did you want it to be a date?” “I... Yes.”

“Oh.” “It doesn't matter. I was just... being stupid.” “Stupid?” I almost laugh. “You're being stupid right now.”

“What do you mean?” “I mean that I'm painfully obvious. Do you see this grin? Tried all day to get it out of my face, but I just can't.” “Why not?” “You said yes,” I say in a small voice.

“Oh,” he says, and he looks like he understands. “Really?” He moves closer again, and he puts a hand on my cheek.

“I wonder what you're going to do if I kiss you, then.” He lowers his head and I glance at his lips.

“I might leap for joy...” I whisper, “or start walking on air.” He leans down and whispers just against my lips: “I can't wait to find out.”

When he kisses me, I don't leap for joy or start walking on air. I'm too busy burying my fingers in his hair, holding his hand - and kissing him back.

[ravenclawbaz]

snowbaz prom

My contribution to @bookerella‘s snowbaz prom thingy! Sorry if this is kinda rough I whipped it out at like 10 last night and stayed up till 11:30 editing (thank u @mychemicalfrank for helping w/ that i love u) but here’s the finished thing?? whatever it is? I’m not so sure word count: 2075 | warnings: blood & fighting but it doesn’t end sad don’t worry 

Baz

As I walk across the lawn to the dining hall, I think about how much I hate the Mage. It’s a shame that he became the headmaster. My mother would be so disappointed in what Watford has come to.

A few weeks ago, the Mage had gathered all the 6th, 7th, and 8th year students in the Courtyard to inform us about a new dance that would be taking place at the end of April. Now that time has come, and I am being forced to go to prom.

It’s a thing in America, I know that, but the fact that the Mage has decided to spread this bullshit to Watford is utterly annoying. He said something about adopting other countries’ customs to broaden our knowledge of the world. Absolute bullshit. Like going to a dance is going to help us become better at magic.

But I’m going anyway. I wasn’t actually forced to go, it’s optional. How could I pass up a chance to annoy Simon and Agatha though? They’re going together, of course, and this will be the perfect chance for me to bother them.

I push open the double doors and am instantly ambushed by the loud music playing from several speakers and the chatter of students.

I seek out Dev and Niall and spot them standing on the other side of the room, seemingly waiting for me to get there before they move onto the dance floor. Good men. They nod when they see me coming toward them and I nod back.

I’m keeping an eye out for Snow, making sure that I don’t miss him. He left a while before me and I must admit, that boy looks beautiful in a suit. I wasn’t expecting him to wear one, but he came out of the bathroom wearing a nicely fitting grey one. My body wasn’t ready. I actually had to leave the room and recover. Making me share a room with Simon bloody Snow must be the universe’s way of punishing me for being a vampire.

And maybe for having a crush on Snow, who would never feel the same way toward me. Either works.

I finally see them. Snow, Wellbelove, and Bunce are standing near the punch bowl. Agatha is wearing a knee length light pink dress. The top of it looks to be lace and I think that maybe if I were straight, I might not mind being with her. She really is stunning.

Bunce leans into Simon, laughing and holding his shoulder for support. Her dress is purple -- a lovely contrast to her dark skin -- and there’s a pattern on it, though I can’t make it out from where I’m standing across the room.

It doesn’t take Snow long to notice me. I’m not entirely convinced that he doesn’t have a built-in radar that dings every time I’m near. He looks up sharply and locks eyes with me. He glares at me for a few seconds, before whispering to Bunce, taking Wellbelove by the hand, and walking with her into the crowd of dancing students.

I wait a few minutes, then say my goodbyes to Dev and Niall, and follow Simon into the mess of bodies. He’s dancing with Agatha near the edge of the group and he looks like an absolute fool. It’s obvious that he’s never danced in his life.

There’s a girl standing next to me, looking at me. I recognize her from a few months ago, her name is Lily and I think she may be a 6th year. She gave me a Valentine back in February, and although I ignored her, I could use this to my advantage. When I make eye contact with her, she dances over to where I am and continues to dance in front of me. I hate this, but if I want to get on Snow’s nerves, acting straight is what must be done.

The pop song that’s been playing ends, and a slow song comes on. Great. Lily wastes no time in flinging her arms over my shoulders, linking her hands behind my neck. I place my hands on her waist and slowly start to move us closer to where Snow and Wellbelove are dancing.

Snow scowls at me, holding Agatha tighter like he thinks I’m going to just take her. He isn’t that far off from my ultimate goal.

We keep dancing like that; Simon glaring at me from over Agatha’s shoulder, and me returning his look with a smug one, raising my eyebrow like I know he hates.

This has all been fun and games so far, but I think I may go too far when Agatha turns over her shoulder to see what Simon is staring at, and she sees me. I give her one of my most charming smiles and she blushes and tries to hide the smile on her lips. This must be the snapping point for Snow, who sees the whole interaction, because the smell of smoke that erupts is almost unbearable.

The students around us either move away quickly, afraid that he is going to go off, or draw closer to him, attracted to the scent of the magic. Normally, making Snow go off would be an accomplishment of mine. But not when we’re in a room full of people, and I think he may actually go off.

Mostly everyone has stopped dancing, and I see Agatha throw Simon a dirty glare. She grabs his arm and pulls him out of the dining hall into the corridor.

Being the nosy fuck I am, I follow Snow and Wellbelove to the corridor. I cast a spell so I can stay hidden, but still hear what they’re saying.

“Why do you have to get so worked up over everything Baz does?” She says. Her voice is hushed and she’s talking fast, like she’s afraid someone will overhear them.

“Do you not see what he does! He’s trying to steal you from me!” Well that’s never a good thing to say.

“You don’t own me, Simon!” Her voice is getting louder. I can’t see them, but I can imagine that Agatha is all up in Simon’s face, probably pointing an accusing finger at his chest.

“You know that’s not what I meant, Aggy. It’s just, I know he’s doing it to annoy me.” Snow hesitates for a second, then continues, “You know how hard I try to not let it get to me! Don’t you understand that?”

“I’m not sure I do understand it. Sometimes I think you pay more attention to him than you do me.” I know it’s terrible, but I smile a bit at that. “Simon, I’m sorry. I don’t think I can do this anymore.”

Their voices are quieter, and when Simon speaks, my heart feels like it’s shattering into a million pieces. “Aggy, wait. No.” He sounds so… broken. I never want to hear him sound like that again.

I take a chance and peer around the corner. Simon is standing right outside an alcove, gripping Agatha’s arm like his life depends on it. She looks like she’s turned to walk away, but can’t now that he’s holding her.

I watch as she yanks her arm out of his grip and shakes her head. “I’m sorry, Si. ”With that, she’s walking toward me, back to the dance, and I quickly hide behind the pillar outside the door.

Once she’s inside, I walk back out into the hallway. My body is screaming at me to stop. To just turn around and leave. But I see Simon slump against the wall, running his hands through his curls and pulling hard, and I can’t just leave him there. Though I’m not sure how much my presence is going to help him right now.

I hesitantly walk over to wear he’s leaning against the window and stand across from him. My hands are in my pockets and I know that he sees me, but I just stand there awkwardly until he addresses me.

“What the fuck do you want.” I’m not sure that I’ve ever heard him this angry. The air is still filled with smoke, thicker than before, and his voice is full of venom.

I don’t really know what to say, but I do know that I need to apologize. It’s very un-Baz like of me. “I’m sorry, Snow. I really didn’t intend for that to happen.”

“Like hell you didn’t!” He takes his hands out of his hair and throws them above his head wildly. I should’ve expected him to react like this. Maybe I should’ve waited until he cooled down to confront him.

I make to walk away, back into the dining hall and away from angry Simon, but he grabs my shoulder roughly and spins me back around. My hands are still stuffed in my pockets when he shoves me up against the wall behind me, and my head bangs against the stone with nothing to brace myself with.

He’s basically fuming with rage, and I’m terrified. There’s no doubt that he could kill me without hesitation right now. I’ve always thought I was ready to die at Snow’s hands, but I’m not so sure that’s true.

I carefully draw my hands out of my pockets and bring them up, palms out, in front of my chest.

“Snow, please just calm down. Let me go.” I try to keep my voice calm.

He just furrows his eyebrows and pushes me harder against the wall, his fists balled up in the front of my shirt. “No, Baz! You’ve gone too far this time.” His face is so close to mine and he’s yelling right in my face.

I try to leave, to pull myself out of his grip. That doesn’t work. Before I have time to react, he’s let go of my shirt with his right hand, holding tighter with his left to keep me in place. He pulls his right arm back and swings it at my face full-force. I hear a crack and I think I may have cried out, but my ears are ringing and my vision is starting to blur too much for me to care.

I crouch down, steadying myself against the wall with the hand that’s not holding my nose. There’s blood dripping down my chin, falling onto the floor and getting all over my clothes.

The initial shock of the hit is starting to go away, and I can see Simon kneeling on the ground in front of me. He looks worried and he’s pulling the pocket square out of his suit jacket, grabbing the back of my head and holding the piece of cloth over my nose with the other.

It stings when he touches it, and it just makes me mad. I can’t exactly hit him back in this state, so I do the next best thing I can. I grab his tie and pull him in, hard, ignoring the pain that ignites in my nose when it hits his cheek.

It’s not exactly how I imagined kissing Simon Snow would go. There’s blood everywhere and I’m pushing into him. It makes me even angrier that he isn’t being rough back, he’s just holding the  back of my head in his hand and pushing me away gently, not even kissing back.

He succeeds in pushing me off of him, and I let my head fall back against the wall, not caring how hard I hit it.

I think he’s just going to leave me here, bleeding out onto the floor and probably crying. Instead, he places his hands under my armpits and lifts me up, turning to stand beside me so he can wrap his arm tightly around my waist. My arm is draped over his shoulder, hanging by his armpit, and he’s holding it to keep me upright.

“Come on Baz, let’s get you cleaned up.” He whispers, and starts walking us in the direction of the nurse’s office. My vision is still a little blurry and fuck, that hurt. If he broke my nose again I’m going to be immensely pissed off. It’s already crooked from the last time.

“I kissed you.” I say dumbly.

“I know you did, and we’ll talk about that later. But right now we gotta get your nose fixed.” We walk the rest of the way to the nurse’s office in silence.

Simon

I’m not so sure that I’m straight.