#Baz will be fine I'll take care of him

[carnage-cathedral]

alright. system question. Baz is sick in the innerworld but the body is fine. in here, he's feverish and woozy and sniffly. but the body is fine. he also says that apparently, back when Dean was really taking a beating from his ex, he'd appear extremely injured in the innerworld. Poison is quoted as saying, in reference to Dean: "you look like you just went ten rounds with a mountain lion." is this a thing? does it have a name? I'm genuinely curious.

[elvisabutler]

pregnancy angst with priscilla reader?

oh anon. you know not what you asked for. but sure why not let's balance out my fluffy vampire pregnancy thing with this. but also i can write multiple variations of this. pregnancy angst, secretly the source of all my power. BUT. tw: babies, pregnancy talk, breastfeeding talk, jealousy, the normal bs that comes from anyone saying priscilla and reader in an ask to me (so character bleed, age difference, daddy kink). brief mention of the consideration of abortion. you blink and you'll miss it.

suddenly we're writing out the same old lie

so consider our options. we have four by the way. one is that you know, you're never pregnant, think you are but you aren't and that's tragic in it's own way. we've already talked about that before. and then we have the one where you hide it until you really can't and your mom is just shaking her head and telling you that you've really got to tell him. and you do and it's- it ends alright.

then there's options three and four. three is you are and you never tell him until he finds out himself, four is that you end up getting pregnant by someone else while on the break.

consider! in option three, we shift the timeline a little because maybe you and austin stay in australia a little longer just in case baz needs to do reshoots and honestly you're not feeling like dealing with the bullshit that comes with trying to get back into the country and covid tests and just- it's better to stay a little longer. so you stay until you leave austin. and you're pregnant but you don't find this out until you're home and this is not happening. you- you don't want to get rid of it because you're selfish and priscilla has lisa marie to remember elvis by, maybe you want a baby to remember austin by. with his blond hair and your eyes and- you keep it but you can't go on the tour. you cannot under any circumstances go on the press tour in person. maybe for an oscar consideration run but a press tour? no. you'll- he'll see your bump and he'll try and get back together with you.

"i wanted kids but nessa and i- we were waiting. i had to get my career going and she wanted to wait until she was 30 to be married. it made sense." "what if we're not together." "my mom and dad divorced, but we made it work. i'll always be there for you and them. but you're never gonna have to worry about that, dove. never leaving remember?"

so you have to get out of your contract and baz helps- he hates it- but he helps because you're a great girl and you're still going to do some press, just via zoom. it's fine. and yes, yes he'll lie for you to austin. everyone will. but you don't go on the press tour, you end up doing interviews via zoom, everything is above the waist and people ask what's wrong and it's always, "had some personal business to take care of. sickness, you know how it is. warner bros were really understanding."

austin has an idea that something is up, your breasts look fuller on camera and so does your face. honestly he thinks of ashley pregnant with jupiter when he sees you glowing. he doesn't call though. he wants to, but he'll let you talk if you want. because he's so aware of how messed up your relationship was to certain degrees.

you text him when you see him at the met dressed in all black with your daughter using your bladder as a trampoline. you shoot him a text. "i know you still have the red ascot, you should wear it next time you wear that." he calls you twice and sends a text. you call him back.

"why aren't you here?" you almost tell him then as your daughter does a somersault and kicks your ribs, causing you to let out a curse and an hissed ow. and then a picture of him and kaia at the met flashes on the screen. "you know how you got sick, daddy? how elvis wore you down? it happened to me too. i got sick. i had to go." it's a lie and yet it's not. you should have called him by his name but- if she never gets to know him. never gets to shriek daddy while launching herself into his arms well at least he'll have been called it once.

consider it's oscar night. consider it's been two months since you've had her, not quite to the day. you don't want to leave her but you've been doing the press for austin and the film- your nomination was a lost cause, baz says and he sounds honestly quite sad about it. for at least a month in outfits that catherine sends and alters for you. and he wins. you all win actually through a stroke of luck and he's still shaking from his own win "couldn't have done this without my little dove." so you grab his hand and squeeze. he stops shaking and can actually speak again.

you find him in the corner of the oscar party- whichever one you go to and everyone's getting a little drunk and he notices you're not but doesn't ask because he's the corner nursing a whiskey and he sees you and looks nearly as rough as you feel because your boobs are rock hard and you know you've probably leaked through another pad and you talk. "you okay, daddy?" not austin. not satnin. not butler. just daddy.

"no, what did i do, little dove? hm? was it the ring? the onesie? you never talked to me. you promised you'd tell me if it got bad, i told you i wouldn't leave you." he meant it. he doesn't leave his people. even with bits of elvis still sticking in his soul the part of him that's austin and always will be values his people so much he'll keep them close forever.

"no. it wasn't that. either of them. it took me a bit to get the onesie but i got it, it was the scare and it was cute. the ring was- something else though, aus, i- were you really going to give me that?" you're massaging at your chest praying it doesn't give you a wet spot and that he doesn't notice. "no, it was probably when my daddy called me cilla twice before realizing it was me when i called him in the hospital. i never have stopped wanting to be your little dove. i just didn't want to be your little birdie too."

and then the argument that isn't really an argument and is just you two almost talking in circles, trying to untangle the web you've weaved.

"why didn't you tell me, i didn't remember saying it." he's huffing because you've been holding that against him and he's missed you so much for what. for a misunderstanding while he was drugged out of his mind? "what happened that made you miss the tour? they wouldn't- you were sick, you said you were sick i thought i did that to you. or that you lied and it was because of me, that you were scared to be around me."

"austin- no. that. i mean it was kind of because of you but it's not that-" and your phone is ringing because your sitter is texting you and austin can see your lock screen and it's a picture of the two of you on a couch on set, legs intertwined and your nose nuzzling his. but your home screen is a baby. a little blond baby girl no more than two months old.

"is that- y/n, are you goddamn kidding me?" he's livid and in that moment he swears every fiber of his being has him turning into elvis throwing a temper tantrum because because his focus narrows to you and the phone. "is she- is my name on the birth certificate?"

"she's not-" "don't even finish that sentence. when did you start lying to me, little dove?" the last bit is a sneer and it's the last time he calls you little dove for a long while.

"about the time i realized that you didn't love me, you loved an idea, butler." it's said in the same sneer because how dare he judge you. your in your early twenties and you never claimed to be perfect. you head out to leave and wave off baz and priscilla and everyone as austin follows you. the cameras are flashing and normally you care so much but right now you just want to get home to lori. he follows you, grabbing at your wrist once you're outside.

"a baby. you hid our baby from me. did you lose my number? i know you didn't- why didn't you call me? you knew-" "did i though? you had lily rose and olivia and kaia and i'm supposed to think, yeah, austin butler who i think is more in love with my priscilla presley wants our baby. yeah. i'm not- fuck- austin i'm almost a decade younger than you. whatever you think i know, i don't. and you know that." "so you were never going-" "i panicked, austin."

the car comes and he follows you in like it's normal and like you're not going to have to do damage control tomorrow. you should kick him out, but you don't. his jaw is tense and he's leaning against the window. "can i see her?"

"you're already in my car, butler. sure."

and he just takes that as the opprotunity to launch into twenty questions. "when did you have her? what did you say to yourself to justify not telling me about her? what's her name? did you-"

you're trying not to cry because your emotions have mostly settled but hearing him spit out questions so angrily reminds you of why you thought it was a good idea to hide this from him in the first place. you remember your labor and how you begged to not have a c-section and you managed to do it but they took her away for a minute because she wasn't crying quite right. "on elvis' birthday. i'm still very angry about that. it none of your business what i said to myself and- loretta. but i honestly call her lori."

the noise that comes from austin sounds like a sob but really just a pained groan. "my- y/n, you- how dare-"

"she's not- she's more priscilla's kid than mine, it didn't matter what i named her. and cilla once thought of naming lisa something with lynn in it but i hate lynn and only think of loretta lynn. but loretta sounded pretty" you whisper trying to head off him getting even angrier.

austin doesn't speak for the next 10 minutes until he grabs your hand. "i'm her father. if nothing else, i'm her father."

"that's the only thing i've ever been sure of." you say back with a squeeze as you both leave the car to go see her. the babysitter looks at you both with wide eyes before just shaking her head. this is none of her business, maybe you will tell her later.

she's crying and it's not because she's hungry or anything else, but when austin takes her from the bassinet attached to her pack and play she instantly calms. and that's what makes you ask him to just- see how you two can make this work before you get any lawyers involved. that you messed up but so did he and- just one shot, butler, please.

he calms down eventually, probably about a few months on when lori is in his arms after burping directly in his face after feeding from your chest. he laughs and holds her close while pointing at you. "learned that from your mommy didn't you, little lori. learned that from the prettiest little dove. rudest, but prettiest."

it makes you stop what you're doing and just stare before you sniffle. "don't call me that if you don't mean it, daddy." daddy because if he means it you'll go right back there right now.

"come here little dove. wouldn't say it again if i didn't."

he meant it. and maybe you cry while lori just plays with your hair happy to be in her father's arms and happy that maybe mommy will be happier too. you find a couple's therapist to go with your own that you finally got after you had an extra set of hands in the form of austin on a very long filming break. maybe you move to cannes. maybe you don't. but you fix things slowly but surely.

[aristocratic-otter]

I've got an evening event tomorrow and I know I'll be too tired to do this when I get home, so look at me, I'm gonna try my hand at scheduling! If you tag me before my post shows up, thank you! And thank you to @ivelovedhimthroughworse, @takitalks, @confused-bi-queer, @artsyunderstudy, @facewithoutheart, @urban-sith, @fatalfangirl, @palimpsessed, @ileadacharmedlife, @cutestkilla, and @bookish-bogwitch for the Sunday tags

Since I've got abundant time tonight, I'll give you a glimpse at each of my five WIPs. Under the cut for length.

First, from Westward Son, my 2021 COTTA (I know, I know. It takes a lot of research to do a historical right!):

Shepard POV: Something happened to Simon back there, but I don’t understand what. He never came down with the Cholera. It just seems like one day he was fine, normal, and the next he was just…absent. He rides with us, and takes his turn on the wagon bench, but it’s with a continual air of abstraction, like he’s with us physically, but his mind is miles away. 

Second, from Raising Dragons:

Simon POV: My mind turns to wondering what other characteristics might pop out to surprise me. Baz thinks I’m probably done changing. He points out that most of my DNA is human, so it wouldn’t make sense for me to have more dragon traits than human ones. And at least the changes have nearly all been physical only. I still feel like me inside. I haven’t noticed any new behavioural quirks (though Baz says I’ve always been a bit feral).

Next, from one of my CORB's, Playing with Fire, Treading Thin Ice:

Simon POV: That sort of thing happens all of the time. I see people (using the term loosely) with all sorts of odd, inhuman traits. Things like wings and snouts and tails. I see doors in buildings that don’t seem to exist for other people. I see animals that look like normal animals but can do bizarre things. Once I saw what looked like a badger, but it could grow to four times its size and produce claws like scythes when threatened. That was an interesting school field trip, to say the least. But all the other kids seemed to see just a normal badger. 

When I was little, I got in trouble for describing what I saw. The nuns told me I was lying and lying was sinful. 

So I stopped being honest. 

And then from A Tale of Two Tails (A little angst intruded into my crack fic 😱):

Baz POV: I lean forward and rest my cheek on the mattress beside him. Now I’m looking at him head on, and I wince at the dozens of burn marks scattered over his face. I guess now would be a good time to address that. “I’m sorry, Simon,” I whisper. “It was supposed to be a prank. It was supposed to annoy you. You were never supposed to get hurt. You don’t deserve to be lying here. I do.” Wetness is starting to pool in my eyes, but I don’t swipe at them. Somehow it feels right to give him my tears. Like an offering.

Finally, from my COBB, Careful What You Wish For:

Simon POV: I raise a hand to the top button of his shirt and look up at him, waiting.

He looks down at his own chest and bites his lip. Then he nods, just slightly. I force myself to go slow, unbuttoning each button with care before attempting the next. I know myself. I know if I let myself rush, let myself go too fast, I’ll fumble and paw at him. Baz deserves better than that. 

Once every button is undone, his shirt gapes open, revealing his smooth, strong chest and a pair of dusky nipples. His tie hangs forgotten between his pecs and I just stare for a moment. Baz lets me. But then, to my surprise, he starts giggling.

“My eyes are up here, Snow,” he snorts

Tagging (beat y'all to it for once!): all of you lovely people who tagged me on Sunday, plus @angelsfalling16, @annabellelux, @bazzybelle, @carryonsimoncarryonbaz, @dragoneggo, @excalisbury, @fight-surrender, @foolofabookwyrm-activated, @giishu, @kherub, @mrskrementz, @moodandmist, @mostlymaudlin, @nightimedreamersghost, @otherworldsivelivedin, @prettylightsbigcity, @whatevertheweather, and @you-remind-me-of-the-babe

[imatechbummerliketomholland]

I wish this trip never ends (sstbthw part 2) - h.h

Word count: 3768

Warning: angst, swear, mention of smoking

Pairing : harry holland

Request: no.

N/A: okay, i took me almost a whole month to write this but i'm kinda need to work on school too. Remember, english is not my first language, so be kind if you spot mistakes, i really tried my best. I asked you who the reader was supposed to end up with ... I'll let you figure it out but ... don't hate me for the end ... because after all ... it might not be the end. Don’t hesitate to tell me what you think of the fic! Love you all! xx

taglist : @angeliquekalampoka , @harryhollandsgirlfriend (the one and only harry holland's girlfriend to me)

ღღღ

previously - and you can find part 3

Restoring a relationship of trust and regaining the bond that you both had was particularly difficult. You had to learn to find your place in Harrison's life, but also in his relationship with Grace. You were roommates and friends, but it was complicated to plan meetings with Harrison's busy schedule. Between his job search after the cancellation of his Netflix series, his photo shoots, his dates with Grace, those with his family. It was getting harder and harder to find a moment to reunite with the two of you. It was without counting your schedule.

You were supposed to meet at noon for lunch at that restaurant Harrison told you about where he took his mother earlier this year, for Mother's Day. You felt uncomfortable going to such a place. It was very fancy; you had taken a look at the menu and you knew in advance that you would not be able to afford to split the bill. That was sometimes one of the downsides of being friends with Tom and Harrison. They sometimes forgot that their salary was significantly higher than yours. After all, they were still simple, good-natured guys, never saying no to a quick takeout meal or ordering pizza, drinking a beer at the local pub. And sometimes, they offered to go to prestigious places, not paying attention to money, wanting to please their friends or family.

Currently you were in your room. You were throwing countless of clothes across the room, trying to choose what you could wear to this lunch. Harry stopped dead when one of your dresses flew out of your room, right in front of his nose, blocking his way. You had left your door open and your spontaneity got the better of your best friend.

“Easy, Tiger. I had no idea your clothes had the capacity of Dr. Strange's cape.” He joked before coming into your bedroom.

You turned to find Harry leaning against your doorframe, a smirk encrusted on his face. You gave him an unamused frown and his smile widened. This wasn’t funny at all; you were stressed as hell. It’s not like you still had feelings for Harrison and try to impress him – to be honest, you still had feeling for your friend, but not as intense as before, you had drawn a definitive line on the possibility of a romantic relationship with him, which had helped you a lot. – But you didn’t want to be dressed down and looked like a clown.

“Come on Munchkin, it’s just a lunch. At worst, Harrison can still make it looks like he invited you out for charity, sort of “Make a Wish” event” Harry joked, in his significant humor.

“Go to hell, Robert. Don’t you have a pack bag to make, mister “I’m going to Spain to help my superstar brother to hold his tea while he’s filming”?”

“Rude… I’m a film director, now”

Not for that, you thought to yourself, but don't have the balls to tell your best friend. You didn't want to take this joke too far. You smiled at his cute pretending offended face. You pouted mockingly before biting your lip. You loved the dynamics of your relationship so much. Your humor, sarcasm, your outspokenness, that's what brought you together. Harry pulled you lightly from your closet with a comforting wink. He chose Yves Saint Laurent poppy red wool jersey flared pants that Tom gave you on your birthday. You smiled at his choice. You liked these pair of pants because they were sparkling with vitality, the color was flamboyant. Harry then gave you a satin pearl-colored shirt from Zara and you laughed at the drastic brand difference.

“Oh I see. A classy look but no more than £ 1000 that's pretty smart,” you joked.

The choice of your outfit once again proved the reality of hanging out with wealthy people. You were not poor; you could even be grateful for the life you had had. But it would never occur to you to give your friends clothes that were going over the miles and cents. To be honest, you wanted it. You wanted to live up to the gifts your friends sometimes gave you. But the truth seemed quite different: you had cried over the price of a used Rolex you wanted to give Tom for his birthday. Even having saved for 6 months, you could not afford such a gift.

“Shut up, don’t be so dramatic. Wear that necklace Harrison gave you for Christmas. I’m sure you’ll look fine”

“Thank you,Baz…I guess. ”

You kissed his cheek and then invited him out of your room so you could get ready. It didn't take you more than thirty minutes, time to put on the outfit your best friend had chosen and to put on light makeup. When you were finally ready, you walked to Tom's room. He had offered to take you to the restaurant where you were to join Harrison. But when you got to his ajar door, you could hear the soft sound of a slight snoring. You let out a chuckle before ordering an Uber. You knew he had spent almost a full month in Los Angeles and hadn't returned until early last week. You wanted to leave him as much as possible alone so that he could rest before his trip to Spain for the reshoots of his film Uncharted. Tom was a boy who loved being in touch with those close to him, but you also felt his need to recharge his batteries. That's why you preferred to let him sleep.

You went down to the kitchen to pour yourself a glass of water before leaving. When your Uber arrived, you left a note on the refrigerator to let the boys know you were safely gone. It was little everyday things that made you look normal that you enjoy. A post-it on the fridge, a table organizing household chores had been drawn up. Note to yourself; It was Harrison's turn to take care of the laundry.

☙♡❧

You had really hoped this was just a grotesque nightmare. That it wasn't real. He was going to arrive; he was just stuck into the traffic. Isn't it?

But you were there, waiting for over an hour and a half, without any news from your friend. Some people watched you with pity eyes, the others didn't give you any attention. You internally thank Harry for choosing your outfit. You didn't look like a lost kitten in this prestigious setting. It didn't prevent you from being ashamed right now. The waiter had urged you to order several times but you had told him that you were expecting someone, that he would arrive any minute. The last time, you didn't know if you were trying to convince him or yourself.

But it never happened. Harrison never came to your dinner. You were alone, sitting at a table, pathetically waiting for your friend to show up. It didn't look like him. He had never stand you up before. And not to improve this embarrassing moment, the waiter came to you again. This time, with a man in a suit. He was elegant, carried himself proud but diplomatic. They stopped at your table, a tight smile on their faces. No doubt the man in the suit was to be the manager.

"Miss, my employee told me that you seemed to have occupied this table for a while now. I am sorry to tell you that if you do not order a few things, you will have to leave the establishment"

You looked at him with misty eyes. You have never been so ashamed in your life. You just nod your head, not trusting your voice just yet. After taking a deep breath, you finally apologize to them before telling them that you are going to leave. The manager of the restaurant, out of politeness awkwardly apologizing for this uncomfortable situation.

You've finished the Dry Martini that you allowed yourself to, paying for it with whatever pride you have left. You pulled your cellphone out of your purse and decided to call one of the boys. After three rings, he picked up.

"Hey ... can you please pick me up?"

Your voice was shaky, you were so ashamed but it was less distressing than having to walk the Walk of Shame to your house or cry in an uber. You hung up and shared your location. You left the lobby, leaving the restaurant, standing in front of the entrance to the establishment. The air refreshed your cheeks burning with shame. Luckily it wasn't raining today. Which was pretty nice compared to that early summer you had had.

When you saw Harry's car pulled up in front of you, you slid into the passenger seat without a word. The curly redhead gave you a heartwarming smile but you definitely could see a spark of annoyance in his eyes. You sigh, resigned while shrugging your shoulders. It was obvious that your friendship with Harrison was still shaky.

"I'm sorry, love. He's a jerk about it."

Coincidentally, like a mitigating circumstance, your phone vibrated, receiving a notification from Harrison. You were chewing your lip with a sort of anguish and irritation, watching the message the blond had sent you.

"I'm sorry. So sorry. My agent called me for a pretty urgent casting briefing. She's detained me until now. Are you still okay for this dinner?"

You were angry. You were mature enough and had known the boys long enough to understand their obligations. The fact that Harrison had a lastminute meeting with his agent and missed your dinner wasn't a problem. The problem was, he made you wait for over an hour and a half before notifying you. You wanted him to call you to let you know, or a simple text just after he knew for the meeting. You typed a short answer, shorter than this was impossible. "No". You rested your head against the headrest, turning your gaze to your best friend.

"Hey, he's a Netflix star now" you replied to his last words.

Your voice cracked on the last syllables and your eyes filled with tears. You weren't usually that emotional but the anguish and shame really took over you. Harry noticed, unsure of how to instantly respond to your distress. He would have liked to stop on an emergency lane to take you in his arms but he already had 2 penalties to pay, respectively for speeding and prohibited parking ... a third fine would not be really welcome. He simply placed his hand on your thigh, drawing circles on your pants to comfort you. He simply moved his hand to shift gears and instantly rested it on your leg whenever he had the chance. This gesture soothed you, enjoying the touch, grateful to have someone as your best friend to mop up your pain.

☙♡❧

Arriving at the apartment, no sign of Harrison. When you walked in the kitchen, you saw Tom sitting at the counter, scrolling his phone. He looked up at you, not directly noticing your annoyed expression.

"Wow..you're ... gorgeous. I love these pants on you"

You smiled, a little amused by the compliment. Of course he loved the pants, it was a gift from him. But your smile didn’t reach your eyes. With a look on your expression then on the clock, the actor understood that something went wrong. Harry was right behind and still no trace of Harrison. It was suspicious. Tom gave you a worried look.

"Do I have to ask…Never mind, I’m still going to ask. How was lunch with Harrison?"

"I don't know, why don't you ask him? Oh wait... right, he didn't show up" you said sarcastically although you could hear the hurt in your voice.

Tom frowned, biting the inside of his lower lip in annoyance. Harrison was his best mate since forever and he knew him so well. It seemed strange from Harrison to not show up. The blond has told him he was happy to see you again and walking through this whole awkward “feeling situation” because he didn’t want to lose you. In a quick movement, he rose from his stool to walk around the counter. The next second, he took you in his comforting arms and you finally let yourself go under the sight of the two Holland brothers.

“It seems like you need a break of all this shit” Tom said while he ran his fingers through your hair.

You let a little laugh escape through your tears. He wasn't wrong. You really needed to get away from this whole situation for a moment. But how? Harry watched the scene unsure of what to do. You were his best friend and it seemed like the solace you found was never in his arms. He had tried in the car, however, as best he could. He walked over to the counter to make you both a cup of tea. It seems that as cliché as it sounds, tea comforts you, as the English person you used to be. As the redhead waited patiently for the water to boil, a flash of genius - according to him - crossed the glare of his eyes.

“Why doen't she come with us to Spain?”

His brother's words seemed to suit Tom, who released his hold on you. You opened your eyes wide, not sure of what you had just heard. Go to Spain, with them? Once again, you knew you were going to argue on this proposition. The idea was not bad, Spain seemed a rather pleasant country. But you had just graduated and had a student job to save as much as possible. However, you could not afford to leave for several days in Spain, at the last minute. Plus, what were you going to do while Tom was filming and Harry was assisting him? He was sure the film's production crew wasn't going to give you a pass because Tom had decided.

“Yeah! That’s it, you’re coming with us”

“Tom, I have a student job. I can’t just…decide to go to Spain.”

“You never take a leave, come on. It’s not negotiable”

You were looking at Harry for help but he just shrugged. After all, he was the one who had initiated the idea of ​​including you on the trip. You were trying to find a valid excuse to stay home. You really didn't want to impose yourself.

“I can’t afford that” you said, trying your best to convince him to quit the idea.

“I don’t care, it’s not even a problem. You coming to Spain with us.”

"Omg, does Z dominate you in bed to make you so bossy in life?"

Harry almost spitted his tea and laughed out loud while Tom gave you shocked eyes with pinky cheeks. You had always been sassy but hanging out with the boys had made you even more sassy than ever. How many times haven't you heard Tuwaine or Harry make fun of Harrison or Tom on the sex subject? Being a girl seemed to make you an untouchable character. The boys had never teased you about your relationships or your sexual partners. And while you've always had feelings for Harrison, you've had your own experiences. Anyway, you had just gone with the flow and Tom's brand-new romantic relationship with his co-star gave you the perfect opportunity.

“That's not the point.” stammered the actor.

Your smile widened, proud of your joke and the way Tom reacted. You heard Harry clear his throat. He had his phone in his hand and his own smile didn't bode well for you.

"The production is okay but it's at Tom's expense."

“You got to be kidding me…”

☙♡❧

You ended up in Spain with two of your best friends. You knew you had limited time before Tom had to fly back to Los Angeles for some Spider-man: No Way Home reshoots. So, you enjoyed as much as possible: accompanying the boys to the golf course - even though you weren't very involved in the sport -, spending time to visit touristic places when they were on set, talking with Rachael and other people from the set. You really enjoyed your trip.

On Wednesday evening you went out to a restaurant with Tom, Harry and two other friends/tom’s colleagues. You couldn't deny that it was fun. You had the opportunity to sunbathe a little while walking through the streets of Madrid. Spain was doing you good and not once did you think about your wobbly friendship with Harrison. You've just left the restaurant when a few fans politely show up to take pictures with Tom. You couldn't help but smile at the thought of how kind Tom had always taken in a few snaps when his fans approached him respectfully - and there weren't too many of them -. You sighed with pleasure before stepping away from the group. You leaned against a wall and took out the packet of cigarettes that Tom had asked you to keep in your clutch bag. Being an occasional smoker, he wouldn't blame you if you took one from him. You tilted your head back to admire the dark starry night when you felt a presence by your side. You narrowed your eyes in mischief as you looked sideways: Harry was there, his nose wrinkled from your cigarette. He didn't like it too much Silence filled your bubble despite the hubbub outside. You were in public and it was not surprising to meet travelers and Madrid residents mingling with the crowd to enjoy this pleasant evening.

"I wish this trip never ends." You finally said, breaking the silence.

Harry didn't know what to say to that. Instead, he was just looking at you. You were a little tanned, the Madrid sun had done wonders on you; your loose hair framed your face and the summer dress you had chosen for the restaurant looked great on you: It was a short red floral summer dress with a shingle collar. Light enough to keep you from suffocating but decent to wear on any casual occasion. You were beautiful, stunning. His heart exploded at the sight of you, so much that it hurt a few times.

"I wish I had been there for you more." he finally confessed

You finally turned your head towards him and shrug your shoulders, smiling shyly but sincerely.

“You were working, Baz”

“I meant…not only here in Spain. I’m sorry to have let you down recently”

You give him a confused look. He hadn't been a bad friend but he kept implying it. You just shook your head negatively to brush his words away. Harry had always been important to you. He had been the first to step towards you. It was him who introduced you to the rest of the gang. He had always been concerned about you.

The night you met, you immediately clicked up with him. And to be honest, for a moment, you thought he liked you that night. But he never took that step towards you and you never did either. You dreaded that if you kissed him, he would think you were interested in his notoriety by proxy. So you just acted like any reasonable person would - accept the status he gave you. And the second time he asked you to join him with his brother and his friends, you met Harrison and your heart exploded.

"I'm glad you brought me here"

“I'm happy you accepted to come.”

“I didn't really have the choice, Baz” you joked.

He laughed slightly. You weren't wrong, he and Tom had practically dragged you onto the plane, leaving you no choice to be by their side. But you could only thank them, especially Harry who had the idea. You took another hit on your cigarette before leaning back to check out where Tom was with his fans. He seemed to be talking with the girls and didn't seem overwhelmed. So, you didn't want to interrupt him and were just going to wait for him to finish. Harry played with his hands nervously, looking straight ahead and then at you. He seemed to be repeating this game for several seconds before finally asking the question that was in his mind.

“Have you heard from Harrison?” Harry asked quite casually

“He sent me several texts to apologize and wished me to have a good time in Madrid.”

“Do you still have feelings for him?”

You swallow hard before looking at him. There was an indecipherable glint in his eyes and you weren't sure what to make of it. You drew another puff from your cigarette, maybe that would save you from entering this conversation. But Harry's presence was all around you and you couldn't really escape. So you've decided to be honest.

“It’s complicated. I suppose so...”

“Mhmm”

“But my friendship with Haz is important, I don't want to lose him because of it.”

“Yeah, you can't imagine how well I understand you” he sighed

“What do you mean? Who’s the lucky girl..or guy ?”

Harry turned to you frankly and you did the same, stubbing out the half-smoked cigarette. You are well aware that the conversation was taking a more serious turn. He moistened his lips and walked over to you. Harry was full of things: he was full-loving, sarcastic, talented, daring, impertinent. But Harry was mostly awkward when it came to love. Not just an attraction, no, love with real feeling. Delicately, hesitantly, he reached out to your cheek, stroking it with the back of his fingers, cautiously. You were frozen, your eyes fixed on him admiring his audacity.

"She's the most beautiful girl I ever seen." he said with a small smile.

Harry walked over to you and your heart was pounding at breakneck speed. Harry had ... feelings for you? You were really confused. Since when had he developed his feelings? Why didn't he tell you about it? Why hadn't he tried anything so far? So, were you right from the start? Was there a tension between you since the beginning of your friendship, since your met? But above all, did you want him to take that step? Instinctively, your body responded. You parted your lips and closed your eyes. You enjoyed the warmth of his hand on your cheek and were waiting for the touch of his lips. But it never happened.

"Hey baz, y/n..we're going back to the hotel" Tom said, taking his eyes off his phone. "I…Mhmm sorry, did I interrupt something?"

[johnwgrey]

@carryon-countdown - Day 2: Wings (2021)

Hi guys! Here's a ficlet for today's prompt. I hope you'll enjoy it!

Rated: T

Words: 1K

Summary: You heard of werewolves now get ready for weredragons!

A ficlet in which Simon transforms and Baz gets to watch

Read under the cut

SIMON

"Baz" I whisper as I try to free myself from his embrace. "Baz, come on. It's going to be dark soon. I have to go."

All I get as an answer is more kisses. I usually wouldn't mind at all. I usually would be the one doing the kissing. But not tonight.

“Baz please,” I start to laugh. “You know I want this as much as you do but I really must go. I won't put you or anyone around in danger.”

Finally, that gets his attention. “I know, Snow.” he sighs, kissing me on the cheek one last time before letting me go.

He watches me as I put on my shoes. “Let me go with you.” he blurts out.

“What? No, Baz. We've talked about this.”

“How have we talked about this? I asked you to let me come ONCE and you said no and walked out the door.”

I groan. “Baz, come on. I told you, I won't put you in danger. I can't have you near me tonight.”

“Do I have to remind you that I'm a vampire? Super speed, super strength and all that? I can take care of myself. I promise you won't hurt me. I just want to see.”

“You're also super flammable. No, Baz. I told you what happens already. Why would you want to see this?”

“I don't know, Simon. Why would you want to watch me drink rats?”

“It's nothing like drinking rats, Baz!”

“But it's very humiliating to me, and you knew that, and yet, you insisted on coming.”

I groan even louder at that. “Fine! You can come.” I say while putting my coat on. “But you have to stay far away and as soon as it's here, you go home. Deal?”

“Deal” he nods, a broad smile on his beautiful face.

When we step outside, he takes my hand on our way to the car. I'm grateful for it. I hate that he's coming but it does make me feel a bit better to have him with me right now. We start driving to the countryside as the sun sets. It's so beautiful and peaceful. I look at Baz. He looks serene. I turn my head to watch the road stretch in front of me. I wish I could feel the same way.

BAZ

We drive for an hour or so. When we get there, Simon tells me one last time to be careful. “Stay there” he says “and leave as soon as you can.” he kisses me briefly but ardently before getting out of the car, leaving behind him the sweet smell of brown butter and the feeling of his lips on mine.

Of course, he doesn't need to tell me to be careful. I just want to be there for him. I want to see it happen for myself. I want to be able to help him if he needs it.

We wait, me sitting in the car, him pacing in the clearing. It's killing me to just stay there when I could be with him and distract him. I mean, nothing is happ- oh, okay. It's happening now. I see him double over, and my first instinct is to get out of the car and run to him. But I don't. Because he asked me not to and I don't want to break his trust. I love him enough to put his needs before mine.

I watch him walk as far away from me as possible. He stops in the middle of the clearing.

We drove as far away from civilization as possible. We're surrounded by a forest. And I'm sure that despite all that, he worries it's still not enough. Nothing bad has ever happened, but I know he worries every month. He would never admit it, but he doesn't have to. I can see it in the way he furrows his brow when he doesn't know I'm looking and in the way he smiles a little too bright when he knows I am.

So I just sit there, watching him as every bone in his body breaks. Watching him in the worst kind of pain I've ever seen him in. Tomorrow, I'm going to kiss him so hard he won't feel his lips for a week. Circe, I'll do more than that. I'm going to fuck him so sweetly, so slowly and for so long, his lips won't be the only thing he won't feel.

It's done now. I know Simon asked me to leave as soon as it was here, but I'm mesmerized. There's a dragon less than a couple of miles away from me. And this dragon is my boyfriend. And it's so fucking beautiful!

I watch him roar and breathe fire in the night sky. I really should be leaving. Simon's right. I'm more flammable than most things and we're surrounded by trees. It would be the sensible thing to do. But I'm not exactly sensible when it comes to Simon Snow - human or dragon - am I?

I wonder why it doesn't fly away. Knowing Simon, he's probably using what little control he has to make sure no one gets hurt while he has to go through this.

A few minutes pass like this, me still sitting there, in absolute awe of what I'm seeing (I saw dragons before but none that ever had their lips and hands all over me) when I notice that the dragon is looking straight at me. I get out my wand, a spell ready on my lips, just in case.

As it happens, I don't need it. The dragon doesn't move. It just looks at me... and I'm bewitched.

All of a sudden, it roars again and the spell is broken. I take it as a sign that it's time to go. Reluctantly, I start the car and turn it around. I allow myself one last glance in the rearview mirror.

The dragon is breathing fire again, wings spread wide. And that's the last thing I see before I leave. Glorious, majestic, red wings shining in the silvery light of the full moon.

[waywardfangirl]

For the fantastic @fight-surrender: You are a wonderful person with a brilliant mind and a kind heart, and I am so happy to know you! I really enjoyed the prompts you suggested for the Secret Snowflake exchange this year, so to give you something fluffy and happy for your birthday I combined a few of them into one sweet and silly fic - I hope that you like it! 🖤

A big thank you goes out to @carryonvisinata for her wonderful beta work and for making this fic even better for such an incredible friend 🖤 Purr-fect Strangers

Rated: General Audiences Word Count: 3208 Chapters: 1/1 Simon

"Die Hard? Really?"

I'm struggling to make the Redbox give me my DVD. Video vending machines sounded like a good idea when I couldn't find anywhere to stream my favorite movie, but the obstinate thing in front of me and the condescending voice behind me are now making me reconsider my choices.

"What's wrong with Die Hard?" I demand, momentarily giving up on retrieving my video to take some of my frustration out on the prick watching me.

Unfortunately, when I turn around to scowl at him, I make eye contact with one of the most attractive people I've ever seen. He's tall, with dark hair escaping the bun on top of his head and falling around his face, and a perfectly tailored suit hugging every inch of his body right on down to his shiny Chelsea boots. My brain shorts out, and he sneers at me.

"There’s nothing wrong with it, per se. But you have a near unlimited assortment of cinema to choose from, and you've selected Die Hard?"

(Read the rest on ao3, or keep reading here)

I scoff.

"Look, mate, some of us don't feel the need to watch pretentious films just to feel better than other people. I like Die Hard. I'm going to watch it while eating pizza and relaxing in joggers, and I refuse to feel bad about enjoying that."

He looks a bit startled, and his cheeks take on a slightly pink tinge, but he just arches an eyebrow at me. (And manages to make that look unfairly hot too, the prat.)

"What movie are you renting?" I say it like a challenge, and he pushes past me.

He deftly removes my DVD from the stubborn machine and thrusts it at me, before turning back around to get his own. I loiter behind him, just like he did to me, ready to see what movie he thinks is better than Die Hard.

"Two Weeks Notice?" I exclaim, when I see the poster pop up on the screen. "You're ridiculing Die Hard, but getting a rom-com for yourself? Unbelievable."

He pushes past me and turns up his nose. My blood boils for so many different reasons, and it's work to hold myself still.

"This has Hugh Grant in it. My tastes are superior."

Then he swans off, and I'm left standing on the kerb.

Baz

A year into my time at university, I started treating myself to a monthly visit to Sephora. It was easily excusable then, with parties every weekend to justify each new purchase, but I've kept up the tradition since graduating. (Retail therapy and good skin care never hurt anyone. And a little eyeliner does wonders for one's self esteem.)

This month, I'm browsing for something sparkly. My eyes are grey, but with a dark, glittery liner I think they might stand out a little more. I'm just testing one of the pencils on the back of my hand when I see him.

Blond hair, plain blue eyes, and a constellation of freckles and moles across his skin. The most lovely man I have ever seen, with the worst taste in movies, and (I'm sure) a well-deserved hatred for me.

For all that I try to appear cool and confident, my facade sometimes fails me. When I get flustered, I become cruel. The man renting Die Hard was so pretty that all I could do was insult him and then curse myself for it the entire way home. I couldn't even properly enjoy Hugh Grant, as mired as I was in self-loathing. And now, whatever second chance to impress him I've been granted with has surely been ruined by my actions last time.

I keep my head down and steal glances at him through my eyelashes.

He is entirely out of his element, that much is obvious right away. I watch him ask one of the shop assistants for help, and she points him in the direction of a display. His brow furrows as he picks up different containers, and he’s ridiculously precious and hopeless as he holds a lipstick tube next to a garish eyeshadow palette and closes one eye to look at them. (What is he even doing?)

Finally, his confusion seems to win out, and he turns to look around for help, when he suddenly spots me. I've been caught out; I can't pretend now like I haven't been staring, and he scowls a little as we make eye contact. I arch an eyebrow, watch as his face grows pink in anger, and decide I hate myself enough to try talking to him again.

"That's really not your shade."

"What?" It's a simple word, horribly enunciated, and does nothing to quell the wrinkle between his eyes.

"The purple. I don't think it would flatter you. Furthermore, that lipstick clashes horribly with every color in that palette."

He turns a bright red and starts to splutter. I am hopelessly endeared.

"That's not- I, I don't- it isn't-"

"Oh, calm down, there's nothing wrong with wearing makeup," I say, flashing him the back of my hand with the eyeliner tests on it. "You just need to pick a better shade." I pluck a different palette (for blue eyes) and a lipstick in a true red from the display and hand them over. "Something like this."

He stares at them dumbly for a moment, his mouth hanging open. (Mouth breather.)

"You think I should wear this?"

"I think it would flatter you if you chose to wear makeup. That purple will do you no favors." I sneer at the garish eyeshadow still in his hand.

"It's for my friend!" he finally bursts out.

"Are you mad at her?" It's a reasonable question, that eyeshadow is truly appalling.

"No? It's her birthday next week, and she said that she wanted to have some makeup for date nights and things."

"Are you in love with her?"

"No!" No hesitation at all. "No, no way. Penny is like my sister. She's my best friend. We're not…" he trails off, and I'm strangely reassured. He still probably hates me, but at least there is one woman in the world that he’s not dating, so my odds have improved marginally.

"Don't get your pants in a twist. I just thought you might be, since that eyeshadow would certainly drive away her current boyfriend."

He sticks out his chin and seems to decide something.

"Fine. What should I get for her, then?" The “if you know so much” is left unsaid.

I'm not really an expert, despite my monthly purchases, but I'll take any excuse I can get to linger around this starburst of a boy for a few moments more.

"Does she wear makeup normally?" He shakes his head no. "Then perhaps start with something more subtle for her." I take the offending palette away and hand him a more subdued one, with a faint shimmer. "Do you think this would look nice on her?"

He thinks hard for a moment, then pulls out his phone, swiping at the lock screen and turning it to face me.

"This is her."

His home screen background is a picture of the two of them, cheeks pressed together and grinning like crazy under the summer sun. His curls are being tossed by the wind, and he looks like a bronze Adonis. I think my heart actually skips a beat at the sight.

"That palette will be fine then. This lipstick, too," I add, handing him a plum shade. "Do you need anything else?" I ask, and then cringe when I sound like I'm working instead of flirting.

He shakes his head.

"No, this is brilliant, thanks."

He still looks a bit confused, and he bites his lip as he looks down at the makeup in his hand - the makeup for his friend, and the things I picked out for him.

I don't want to go, but I can't figure out any way to prolong our conversation.

"You should get that one," he says, pointing to one of the lines on my hand. I raise an eyebrow in question. He's right, but what does this mean? Is he flirting? Does he want me to wear eyeliner? Is he just trying to repay me for helping him? "Yeah. Definitely that one."

He raps his knuckles on the counter beside us twice, and then wanders towards the check out.

It's not until I'm trying to fall asleep that I realize - he bought the makeup for himself too.

Simon

One of my foster fathers had a workshop, and I spent a happy summer watching him build a table and matching chairs for the dining room. I didn't get to stay to see it completed, because one of his biological children kept stealing money out of his mom's purse and blaming me, but I still enjoyed the time I had spent watching woodworking. I liked it so much that when Penny and I graduated and got a flat together, I saved up to buy a few tools. I don't make anything major, but I've built small shelves and a side table and a pan organizer for the flat, and I really like it.

Recently, Penny has been complaining about not being able to reach everything in the kitchen, so while she's still at work I stop by the B&Q to pick up some wood for a step stool. I'm heading to the check out when I see him - the mean makeup guy. (Although he was actually quite nice when we were talking about makeup. He was just rude when we were getting our movies.)

He's dressed casually today, in tight dark jeans and a warm grey sweater, with his hair falling in loose waves around his face. He's glaring down at two wrenches, and I hate that he still looks so good when he's glowering.

Before I even register what's happening, my feet have carried me over to him.

"D'ya need help?"

He startles, and turns lovely grey eyes up to look at me. It's work not to gasp. He’s wearing eyeliner. I'm not entirely sure, but I think it may even be the eyeliner I told him to buy.

"The sink in my kitchen is leaking. I watched a tutorial on YouTube, and it should be easy enough to fix, but I don't have the proper tools."

He goes back to glaring at the wrenches, and I lean over to take a look.

“You want that one.”

“Why? How do you know?”

“Well, it’s adjustable. You can change it within reason, so as long as your plumbing isn’t something incredibly out of the ordinary it should fit just fine.”

He looks surprised (and maybe a bit like he wants to attack me, although I try to ignore that).

“How do you know that?”

I laugh.

“Basic home maintenance, mate, I’ve had to fix a leaky sink before too, believe it or not.”

I grin at him until one corner of his mouth tips upward in response.

“Thanks,” he says, his cheeks flushing a little. “I’ll get this one then. Yes. Thank you. Have a nice evening.”

He strides off, once again leaving me feeling a bit dazed.

He looks really good in eyeliner.

Baz

When Fiona discovered I hadn’t left the apartment in a week, she called in the cavalry. Daphne showed up at my door with a casserole and some flowers, and within minutes she had the kitchen feeling like a place that was less utility space and more home.

“Basil, Fiona is worried about you.” I rolled my eyes, despite knowing it wouldn’t get me anywhere. “I’m worried about you, too. You spend so much time by yourself, and you hardly ever go out to see your friends or enjoy the city.”

“I’m fine. Thank you for your concern.”

“Basil,” she had said, and that time it was a warning. “It’s not healthy for anyone to spend this much time alone.”

“What, do you expect me to get a cat?”

Daphne smiled, and I knew that I had said the wrong thing.

“Yes, actually. And,” she said, before I could object, “Fiona thought you should too. In fact, she made it a condition of your continued occupancy of this flat. We both think it might be nice for you to have someone else around to talk to.”

I arched an eyebrow.

“And you want me to talk to a cat?”

Daphne just gave me a Mona Lisa smile, handed me a plate filled with food, and told me when she left later that evening that I had forty-eight hours to send her a picture of a cat. (I asked what I should do if I didn’t like any of the cats I saw. Or if they didn’t like me. She said I had to at least prove that I tried.)

So, this morning, I made my way to the nearest RSPCA and talked to strangers for the first time in over a week. I told them that I was looking to adopt a cat, and they immediately led me to a room filled with individual cages and an assortment of felines. They said I could play with any of the cats that I wanted, and now I’m staring into the eyes of a fluffy orange tabby.

The tabby meows at me, and I swear that she’s telling me to get lost. I guess cats can tell when you’re out of your depth.

I stroll down the aisle and read the names given to each cat. It’s been years since I last had a pet and even then, the husky my family had wasn’t my sole responsibility. I was in charge of feeding him, but there was always someone else making sure that I did. And really, we only adopted him when my pediatrician suggested that an animal might help me after my mother died. Daphne is probably trying to do the same thing again now. (Is this how one becomes a crazy cat lady? Depression, anxiety, OCD, and an unwillingness to tolerate therapy?)

I keep walking slowly until I feel a tug on my sleeve. I look down, and a little orange paw ending in one very sharp claw has latched on to me. I unhook it before my sweater can snag, and then look into the kennel. There are two kittens, each only about ten weeks old according to their cards, and the orange one is peering up at me with big blue eyes. Its littermate is asleep in the corner, curled into a fluffy black puffball, but the tabby is ready to play. His tail twitches, and he pounces immediately when I wiggle a finger between the bars. He catches my fingertip in a far more gentle grasp than I would have imagined, then looks at me with what can only be described as pure adoration.

“Excuse me,” I say, moving my finger some more and feeling small claws dig in. Then again, louder, to get the attention of the woman, “Excuse me. Can I see this one?”

The woman comes over and flips the latch, then reaches in and comes out with a handful of fur and knives. The kitten opens its mouth in a fierce imitation of a vampire, then stretches it further as it lapses into a yawn. We spend the better part of an hour in a bright, cheerful room, just the kitten and I. At first it chases a string that I drag along the ground and runs after balls with bells in them, but then it calms down and curls up in my lap to sleep.

I’m petting it and cooing softly to it, trying to ignore the fact that Daphne and Fiona were both right about this whole thing, when the door to the room opens again.

“Oh. It’s you,” says the most beautiful man I have ever seen. My face flushes when I remember our last encounter and I pray he doesn’t remember my ignorance. (Of course he does. I didn’t know how to select a wrench. I am incapable of basic home repair and he knows it.)

“Do you two know each other?” The woman from before is back, this time holding the other kitten from the same cage, and looking between the two of us. “These kittens aren’t technically a bonded pair, but they are siblings, the only two remaining from their litter, and it would be lovely if they could still see each other.”

“Err…” the man says, shifting his weight.

“We’ve met in passing a few times now,” I say, trying to avoid encouraging this line of questioning.

“Great!” she says, clapping her hands brightly after handing the kitten off. “I’ll leave all of you to get better acquainted then!”

For a moment, there’s just awkward silence. Neither of us are looking at each other, both focusing on our respective kittens. Then, his kitten turns into the feline equivalent of a slinky, oozes out of his grasp, and runs over to tap my leg once before running away again. It hides behind his legs, and all I can see is a black tail winding around his ankles.

We both laugh, and the ice is broken.

“I’m Simon,” he says, and smiles at me. It’s the same radiant smile I remember from his lockscreen. It feels like looking into the sun, and I bask in it.

“Basil. Although my friends call me Baz.”

“Are you going to…” he trails off, but gestures to my cat.

“Yes,” I look down and give it a scratch under the chin. “I’m going to adopt it.”

“Same here,” Simon says, and then he blushes. “I mean, unless it rips my face off in the next few minutes, but I think this is the one.”

“Do you know which one you have?” Their names and genders were on the cage, but it didn’t specify who was who.

“No idea. I’m going to rename mine anyway though, I didn’t like either of those names.”

“I was planning on doing the same thing. If I’m going to have a pet, it needs to have a proper name befitting its personality. Not something mundane like Fluffy.” I scowl, and he laughs.

As his kitten comes over to touch its nose to my kitten, Simon clears his throat.

“So, um, like she said, they’d probably be happy to have playdates or whatever. I mean, since we’re getting them. And since we keep running into each other. It might make sense to, you know, exchange numbers?”

“Yes!” I say, far too eagerly. “I mean, that seems reasonable. It would be more convenient than waiting to happen upon you in the Waitrose choosing inferior crisps to set up a future meeting.”

He smiles. “Well, yeah, there’s that. And this way, it’ll be easier for me to ask you out, ”

Then the absolute nightmare sits down beside me and hands me his phone. He texts me immediately once I enter my contact info.

Unknown Number (11:27 AM) This is Simon Snow

Unknown Number (11:27 AM) Your cat is cute.

Unknown Number (11:27 AM) So are you

Unknown Number (11:28 AM) Wanna get dinner sometime? ;)

I blush, and send him a reply.

Baz (11:29 AM) I thought you’d never ask.

[ben-10-setting-omnicrom]

Hey there, you made a post recently bashing one of mine. Totally fine to disagree but bashing other people's posts aren't the way to go about it. Both posts you were bashing were speculation and if you really had a problem with it, you could've left a comment to open up a real discussion about it on my post or the other person's.

I think you misread some of the tones in the posts. We were exploring political themes in a fictional universe. These sorts of things aren't for everyone and there's a wide variety of perspectives on the subjects. The other person's was, as I interpreted it, a "hey what if this happened" sort of post. Mine was a theory about the dynamics between species based on what we see in canon. I don't think either warranted the reaction it got from you, especially considering the fact we're talking about a cartoon. Perhaps they are darker interpretations but not impossible. No bold, declarative statements were made. No one was pushing their thoughts on others. Both were just people sharing their thoughts on possibilities we could not see in canon.

Again, it's okay to disagree. You, however, took it a step further. I deal with discourse on subjects more serious than a cartoon so I really don't care if you think there's something wrong with this but I'm getting the sense you are trying to start drama in the fandom which really isn't appreciated. This is generally a positive space and it's not hard to match the tone, even when you don't agree.

If you keep this up, I'll just block you so we don't see each others posts. Can't speak for the other person, of course, but they're a respected member of the fandom so I'm sure people would also appreciate it if you didn't go after them.

But I will ask two things of you. If you continue making posts like this, consider using a more respectful tone. I have no idea how other people you have bashed reacted but you are saying these things about real people, many of them likely minors. It's not hard to be courteous.

The other thing is to not use the delusional tag or call people insane. Maybe some people have some hot takes or discuss theories in a sphere a bit extreme for a cartoon but that does not mean it's okay for you to directly attack them. And, some of the words you used are ableist language. I am not disabled so I am not necessarily affected by it but a bar must be set and I'm setting it pretty low. You can continue what you're doing but do not disrespect people or use ableist language. Even if you don't care what I think, note that chances are people will not take you seriously if you sound like a child throwing a tantrum or speak like you're trying to hurt someone.

Even though I disagree with your tone, I will admit you weren't completely off target. You had some good points. And if you had brought them up in a respectful manner, I would have been happy to have a discussion about it. But, you didn't and here we are.

Where the hell do I even start with this?

Ok, first of all NO I'm not trying to start drama. I'm expressing my distaste on a trend I've seen in posts in the Ben 10 tag where this echo chamber perpetually spews out ridiculous baseless shit.

"A generally peaceful space" lmao, you mean like the time several users INSISTED Cracker isn't a slur and you can't be racist to white people, after a user called another one it while shamelessly and without irony claim they wouldn't stoop to bullying like @xcatxgirlx was wrongly accused of? Or the fact several users adamantly and insistently warp and twist her words to fit their delusional narrative where she's apparently the next spawn of Satan or whateverthefuck? Or the fact if you disagree with said echo chamber they'll call you bootlicker and say you have brainrot.

Also can you quit with the victim complex? I'm not going after anyone, I'm refuting claims and headcanons by pointing out no such thing is even remotely hinted at in canon.

Gods at this point I'm going to have to pin dictionary.com with how often I've had to quote people the definitions of words.

having false or unrealistic beliefs or opinions:

In other words ideas not based in reality or that can be gleaned from pertinent information. Reality in this case being the canon of the series.

Saying Ben wanted to kill Kevin because he was jealous of him saving the day in the Forge of Creation episode is FLAT OUT DELUSIONAL. Full stop.

Saying the Plumbers would practice brutality and gay bashing at the drop of a hat DURING PRIDE MONTH is utterly baseless and ridiculous, not to mention actively insensitive to irl acts of such. Their WHOLE THING is keeping the peace and anyone practicing police brutality would get jailed JUST LIKE THE NUMEROUS TIMES IN CANON THEY'VE DEALT WITH EVIL PLUMBERS.

Saying the Galvans are totally discriminating against a entire species is absolutely baseless especially when shit all is preventing said species from basically doing whatever the fuck they want. Baz-El is literally a damn archeologist after all.

You want to know what all those things have in common?

They take the flimsiest of "evidence", ignore context, and actively distort facts to shine things in the worst light possible, like a corrupted fun house mirrors from hell.

Also why would I ask for permission to document for posterity posts I reference? I'm literally only doing that shit so they can't say said posts didn't say what it did or if said posts are erased. It's no different from using the Way Back Machine to check on old posts.

Also also, like for future reference PLEASE add spaces to your posts. Your ask was honestly kind of hard to read.

[sweetuality]

EPILOGUE (pt. 2)

SIMON

Lady Ruth has practically dragged us inside and into our room, "Simon! Baz! Get comfortable and settle in. I'll be downstairs making you boys some snacks."

She patted my arm, "We can all watch Mr. Bean later. Oh! Jamie loves it. He'll be back from work in an hour."

If she could, she would have hopped her way out, but I think her age can't keep up with her energized personality.

She has been like this ever since she believes that her family got reunited. Happy-go-lucky aura seeps out of her like my magic used to from my body. Like sparks from the skin pores.

I think it's something in our family after all.

I always feel like an outsider inside this house. The walls, the furniture, the rug on the floor are too expensive for me to feel a part of it. But Baz seems like he was born here.

He's wearing a three pieces suit (again) today. A shade of grey that gleams silver in the light and a black button-down with the collar buttons open. His shirt color matches his hair and he looks like he's one of the antiques decorated in this room.

He made sure I don't feel left out in his fashion ramp-walk show and dressed me up in his light blue jumper and white trousers with white lace-up shoes. He cast "Like a glove!" on the jumper and now my red wings stand out quite a contract to the rest of my (his) clothes.

"Do you think Lady Salisbury knows who I am actually?" Baz walks over to me and wraps his arms around my waist.

I place my own hands on his shoulder. "You mean vampire? No. I don't think so." I don't think Lady Ruth would care though. All she cares about is how much of a gentleman Baz is.

"I meant your boyfriend." He narrows his eyes as if it's my fault he has so many secrets and I should be knowing which of them he is referring to.

I lean in to rub my nose on his cheeks. Smells of cold water. "Maybe? Maybe not?"

"Snow, will you tell her if she ever asks?" He has my tail in his hand, rubbing it between his fingers.

Will I? Probably.

Baz is kind of an award for me. A medal. A treasure. Being with him is good for my status. If I could I would have flaunted him to the entire world.

"I will, babe." I kiss him because I'm a fool and I can't resist him.

SIMON

Baz and Lady Ruth- she wants me to call her "Gran" but I'm still hesitant (maybe one day I will. I just need some time to get used to all this. To believe all this is true.) are still at the living room watching Mr. Bean and I'm at kitchen trying to find a can of cider. Jamie hasn't yet come back home from work, we saved him some egg and cress.

My phone rang in the back of my pocket. (Jamie has gifted me this new phone on my birthday. I'm so not used to this. I miss my old phone, it was fine for me. Just needed to replace the battery.)

"Penny?" I answered the phone.

"Simon Snow Salisbury! Do you even have time for me?" Her voice was half sarcasm and full anger.

Ever since she started dating Shepard, Penny and I have had less time for each other. Is this what people do? Outgrow their friendships?

She went to America with him without telling anybody. I was so mad at her. But then she got mad at me for not telling her about my family. And then we kind of nullified each other's anger.

Shepherd moved in with Penny and now he's a part-time journalist. I think he got enrolled in Penny's uni too but I'm not sure. Professor Bunce loves him and Headmistress Bunce hates him as much. And between all chaos Penny, herself hardly has any time left to catch up with me. I wanted to tell her that, but I don't want to get shouted at.

"I have all the time for you Penny. What's up?" I grab the cider can and walk out of the kitchen. I see Baz looking at me when I walk into the living room and I point him I'll be at our room.

"I was hoping we all could meet. I called Agatha too. She's busy with Niamh and doesn't wanna leave the goats alone. I guess she'll spend her Christmas with her girlfriend. But you two! I'll murder you two if you don't come."

Agatha and Niamh are the talks of the mages now. They both are taking care of the goats and a lot of people think that's what restored the peace at Watford.

Baz can't stop laughing at the irony of how Agatha and I had different preferences.

I took the stairs and walked inside our room, closing the doors behind. The room was dark, with only outside street light coming through the window to illuminate the room faintly.

"Just tell us when and where and we'll come."

I sat on the bed, taking a sip of the cider.

"Tomorrow, at my house. Shep is also going. Dad says he wants to chit-chat with him. Mum is at school so it isn't a worry. Did you know the veil lifted and my aunt visited her again to tell her not to look for her books? I think my mum will look for the books just to provoke her. Circe, I've got so much to tell you. Let's all meet! I've also got something important to announce."

"Don't tell me you're pregnant Penny!" I say, only half-joking. Penny's parents already had her when they were her age. So who knows?

"No, Merlin!" She screams so loud I had to pull away the phone to save my ears. I could hear the distant giggling of Shepard. "Just come tomorrow by the evening okay? You'll find out."

"Sure, Penny." She ends the call and I laugh. I'm happy for her. She found someone who looks at her like she's made of magic. Which is true either way.

I place the cider on the bedside table and plops on the bed. The room makes me feel like an outsider. But it also feels like it's welcoming me. A part of me feels like it missed being here all this time. Sometimes it actually feels like I belong here. Maybe I do.

I close my eyes, feeling sleepy.

Suddenly it's so cold. I shiver, bringing my wings around me to stay warm but it feels like the cold breeze is inside me. Like my blood is freezing up. My wings envelopes me tightly as a response but it feels more claustrophobic than comforting. Turning around in bed I feel my tail whipping around too. It gets so much cold so suddenly that I feel like I'm having all my nerves in my body breakdown. It's hard to open my eyes too. My lips quiver. I can't speak. I'm freezing. I'm solidifying.

"My rosebud boy." The voice echoes within me.

Rosebud boy? Natasha Grimm Pitch?

"My rosebud boy," The voice is crying, "I'm happy you're finally home."

I can't breathe. I can't open my eyes. I'm crying.

"I'm happy you're safe." I can feel the voice. It resonates within me. I had heard it before. "Simon..."

I open my eyes, tears involuntarily rolling down my cheeks. My whole body is frozen solid. And then I see her.

Golden hair and a face I recognize. Lucy. Mom?

Her hands are stretched out to touch my face but I really can't see her hand. It's like she's a streak of light. And within the light, I could hardly see the features of her face that looks so much like mine.

"We were so happy to have you, Simon. You make me so proud." She's not speaking, but I can hear her voice inside my head. My head thumps with each word. "I'm sorry I couldn't protect you. I'm sorry I left you."

She's vanishing. The light is fading. I want to call out. Mom!

"I love you so much," She's leaving. No! "my rosebud boy..."

"Mom!" I found my voice hoarse and scratching down my throat harshly. I think I saw her smiling sadly before the room is back in its darkness. The coldness fades away as abruptly as it came.

But I can't stop shaking. My wings are flapping violently behind me and I'm sure I'll knock something over with my tail. I sit up, curling my knees to my chest to calm down. Mom... Lucy... She had visited me before. She came back...

[angelsfalling16]

I posted 1,649 times in 2021

183 posts created (11%)

1466 posts reblogged (89%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 8.0 posts.

I added 662 tags in 2021

#lol - 108 posts

#ollie rambles - 101 posts

#snowbaz - 89 posts

#and i was crashing into queue - 83 posts

#coc 2020 - 73 posts

#my writing - 54 posts

#rainbow rowell - 44 posts

#ouran high school host club - 41 posts

#ohshc - 36 posts

#the simon snow trilogy - 33 posts

Longest Tag: 122 characters

#and that was one of those moments when i questioned why i was still sticking around in a place where i no longer felt safe

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

From the prompt list: Fluff number 17, “quick, kiss me!”

Thanks for the prompt! 😊

Simon

I yank Baz into an empty hallway and shove him up against the wall.

"What are you--?" He starts to protest but I shake my head to silence him.

"Quick, kiss me!"

He quirks a brow at me, but the corners of his mouth twitch like he's trying not to smile.

For a moment, I think he won't do it, but then he hooks his foot around my ankle and drags me closer before placing his hands on my face and pulling me into a kiss that's soft yet hurried. Too soon, he pulls away, and I try not to pout.

I get it. Someone could turn this way at any moment and see us. At least when I just have him pinned against the wall, we could be perceived as fighting.

"Not that I'm really complaining, but why the urgent need for me to kiss you?"

"I missed you," I admit, tugging on the front of his blazer then running my hand down it to straighten it back out.

"We were just in class together."

"I know but I couldn't talk to you. Or kiss you. Which is all I want to do when you're being an irritating know it all."

He smiles softly at me. "Why don't we eat lunch together?"

"Really?" I ask, perking up.

"Yeah. Meet me on the great lawn. We can have a picnic."

"Won't people see us? I thought you didn't want people to know about us."

"I was just worried about how they would react. But if you really don't care, then I don’t mind if everyone knows."

"I really like you, Baz, and I would scream that from the ramparts if you let me. Just make sure you're certain about this."

"I am."

Grinning widely, I lean in and kiss him.

Someone clears their throat, and I jump back from Baz spinning around and blushing furiously as I prepare to face whatever teacher has just caught us.

It's Penny, standing with her hands on her hips.

"I see so this is what - or rather who - you've been doing."

"Yes. I mean no. Well, kind of?"

"Just be quiet snow," Baz says moving behind me and leaning in to hiss in my ear. "We should get going or we'll be late to class," he says louder.

Penny stares him down, and if I were the one under gaze, I would be trying to move out of her line out of sight, but Baz just stares back.

"Fine. But Simon, we'll be having a talk later. About keeping yourself safe."

"Oh god," I groan, wanting to cover my face with my hands.

She smirks then turns on heel, leading us towards class.

Baz's hand hovers at the small of my back as we walk, and I can’t help but smile. I think I'll enjoy being out with Baz.

103 notes • Posted 2021-08-14 21:48:24 GMT

#4

HI. I DONT KNOW IF YOURE STILL DOING FIC IDEAS BUT I SAW A MUG THAT SAYS “i like my men with fangs” AND J THOUGHT ITD BE REALLY GOOD IF SIMON JUST CASUALLY WHIPPED IT OUT ONE MORNING OVER BREAKFAST. THANK YOU. GOODBYE.

Yes, I am still taking prompts, and this one is fantastic! That mug is great, and now I desperately need it (lol) This is kind of short, but I hope you like it, Nonnie! :)

**

Simon

I'm standing in the kitchen, sipping at my second cup of coffee for the day when Baz walks in, bleary eyed and still half asleep. I've already had three cherry scones, and I feel energy and caffeine pumping through my body, wanting to be directed at something and put to good use.

Baz has never been much of a morning person, though, and barely glances at me when he comes in. Back at Watford, I always thought that it was due to the fact that he's a vampire and might be nocturnal, but now I realize he just really doesn’t like getting up early.

I watch him grab a mug and wonder if I should have put on more clothes before I left my room. I'm wearing boxers in a t-shirt that have two holes slit in it for my wings, looking like I just rolled out of bed. Even though Baz is the one who actually just rolled out of bed, he doesn’t show it, even in the dark green, silk pajamas he’s wearing. (I wouldn’t be surprised if they had his initials embroidered on them. Anyone else would look like a right prat in them, but Baz looks... Well, he looks gorgeous. Hot. Bloody amazing.

"Morning, darling," I murmur into my mug.

"Good morning," he says through a yawn as he reaches for the coffee pot. He dumps in too much sugar, and he’s about to pour cream into it when he finally looks at me.

His mouth drops open in a very un-Baz like fashion and the cream nearly slips from his fingers when he sees the mug I’m holding. It arrived yesterday, and I couldn’t wait to use it in front of him.

"Something wrong?" I ask innocently.

"What is that?" He asks as if I'm holding a piece of rotting garbage.

I glance down at the mug then back up at him with a grin. It has the words “I like my men with fangs” printed on it, and there are two puncture wounds with blood dripping from them underneath.

"It’s my new mug. I thought you'd like it."

"Where did you even get that?"

"Online. You know, you can get all sorts of vamp-related items online. Normals are really into the whole vampire thing. But," I say, setting down the mug and stepping towards Baz, "not as much as I'm into you."

My hands grasp his hips at the same time my tail flicks out to wrap around his calf.

"Being into someone with fangs is a dangerous thing you know," Baz replies, quirking a brow as he sets down his own coffee and the cream. "You never know what they might do with them."

He smirks but it's closer to a grin. His arms come up to wrap around my waist, and he pulls me closer to him.

Just before our lips meet, I say, "I'm willing to take the risk."

118 notes • Posted 2021-06-22 02:03:34 GMT

#3

I underestimated just how long this would take me to finish, but I had so much fun designing and stitching this!! 💙💙💙

And here is a look at all of my @rainbowrowell inspired cross stitches:

141 notes • Posted 2021-07-17 21:49:59 GMT

#2

I saw this in the book store, and it looks like something Simon would buy for Baz

324 notes • Posted 2021-07-04 00:53:49 GMT

#1

Signs that you're in love with the prince of England:

[This has been sitting in the notes app on my phone for over a year bc I kept forgetting to format and post it]

Reminiscent of the Signs that you’re in love your roommate post that I made a few years ago

On Page 7: the first time you talk about him, you mention him jerking off (okay, I will admit this one is a bit of a stretch, but I'm just getting started)

On Page 10: you imagine "twirling around a ballroom while [he] drones sweet nothings" in your ear (and blush about it!)

On Page 11: you liken him to Prince Charming (another stretch)

On Page 14: you spend half the page describing him in quite complimentary terms (”infuriatingly symmetrical"? Really, Alex?)

On Page 14: you get upset thinking that his dancing with your sister has something to do with you

On Page 15: you clearly remember the first time you really saw him

On Page 16: you used to sneak into your sister's room to touch his hair in a picture

On Page 16: you imagined taking said picture and keeping it in your room

On Page 16: you say he's beautiful

On Page 18: you get defensive and upset when he insinuates that you may be obsessed with him

On Page 19: you delight in the glimpse of his personality

On Page 19: in all the wreckage, you manage to see a small cut on his cheek out of the corner of your eye

On Page 30: you already know everything about him from "hate reading" his Wikipedia page

On Page 36: you describe him poetically. Or really, the way you describe him in that entire page. His hands, his eyes...

On Page 43: you say he's fresh and handsome and his hair looks soft

On Page 43: you say he is annoyingly attractive (and are so distracted you almost don't hear a question you're being asked (on television!!)

On Page 48: you enjoyed that slightly erotic fight you just had with him

On Page 50: you remember the first time you met him "down to the Union Jack on [his] anorak"

On Page 53: one of the first things you say after giving him your number is "no booty calls"

On Page 59: Luna doesn't believe that you're not into the prince

On Page 59: you stared at a photo of him for an hour

On Page 71: you have a stupid smile every time you look at your phone while texting him

On Page 73: you know he's frowning at his phone

On Page 77: you text him every day

On Page 80: you imagine him killing you sensually (yeah, I'm reaching again but this page is great)

On Page 82: you get a big smile at something he says

On Page 83: You're still smiling

On Page 91-92: You tell him about all your family drama/baggage

On Page 95: your sister compares your relationship with him to fake dating turned falling in love trope

On Page 96: you feel warm and nervous when your sister says you like him

On Page 98: you think he has a beautiful face

On Page 99: you really like him

On Page 101: you find him endearing

On Page 102: you feel a strange spark in your gut at the way he's watching you

On Page 103: you feel giddy when he gets jealous of you dancing with someone else

On Page 106: You're thinking about absorbing some of the "much" for him to help him

On Page 108: you don't mind kissing him

On Page 108: kissing him is nothing like kissing anyone you've ever kissed before

On Page 109: you can't stop thinking about the kiss

On Page 113: you think about him and something twists in your chest

On Page 113: You're so caught caught up in thinking about his body that you trip and skin your knee

On Page 114: you've wanted to kiss him this entire time

On Page 115: You're always thinking about him, no matter how hard you try to distract yourself

On Page 120: You're Draco Malfoy level obsessed with him and have been for years

On Page 120: you long-distance flirt with him every day

On Page 120: basically everything that Nora is saying on this page about you...

On Page 124: you get pissed when you see him kissing someone else, before you calm down enough to think it through logically

On Page 129: You're into his British accent

On Page 132: you feel lit up with a feeling that has probably always been there

On Page 135: you have to remind yourself that you don't have feelings for him

On Page 145: you have to remind yourself not to care too much

On Page 158: You're kind of obsessed with him

On Page 159-160: after seeing a picture of him, your heart does a weird thing (that definitely isn't a whole thing)

On Page 160: You're just as attracted to his dark moods as the rest of them

On Page 172: you open up to him about things you don't say to anyone else

On Page 183: your migraine "demands soothing images of Henry looking cozy and picturesque”

On Page 198: you've never met a challenge you didn't live, and he is a challenge

On Page 199: you know all his ticks

On Page 200: you wish you could wake up with him and watch him get ready for the day every morning

On Page 219-220: he plays "Your Song" and you have to tell yourself that you aren't there to fall in love with him

On Page 227: he's the one you want to call when you're going through a rough time

On Page 234: it wouldn't make a difference if you were told not to see him again

On Page 243: even after everything that has happened, you still feel like you want to know more of him

On Page 257: You're "so in love [you] could die"

At this point he's finally admitted it, and I could have stopped but decided to keep going:

On Page 257: you've been falling in love with him for years

On Page 263: you try to tell him you love him

On Page 266-267: for a full week, you go crazy after he ghosts you

On Page 267-270: you fly to a whole other country to confront him and won't leave until he lets you in

On Page 271: you tell him you love him. Twice.

On Page 277: you feel something about him knowing how you like your coffee

On Page 283: you've been thinking about how a relationship with him would work since that first time he kissed you

On Page 291: you refer to him as one of your homes

On Page 302-303: you make a list of things you love about him

On Page 312: you're willing to risk ruining your life for him

On Page 312: you're never gonna love anyone else like you love him

On Page 328: you feel forever about him. and you've known it all along

On Page 344: you love him on purpose

568 notes • Posted 2021-08-15 15:51:06 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

[carnage-cathedral]

everything is fine. Baz has his birthday cupcakes and beer and everything is calmed down. I'll take care of him for the night, but don't be surprised if he's not around for a bit

[thehoneyedhufflepuff]

Only With You: a Between the Lines fic

Rating: Explicit

Words: 6700

Summary: Dev & Niall ring in the new year together as always, with a little something extra. (Takes place after chapter 18 of Between the Lines)

A/N: Hey y'all!

Uhhh, I'm back with another DeNiall fic. (Here's the first, in case you missed it.) Because they wouldn't leave me alone. Also it's Star Wars Day today, so it felt right to honor Dev in this way. I really, really wanted to have next chapter of BTL out today—today's its first birthday!!!—but alas. So here's a little something set in that 'verse instead.

Honestly, the support I've gotten for DeNiall in this 'verse has been unreal, & I don't know how to properly thank y'all for that. So...porn.

Hope y'all enjoy!

Thanks as always to @warriorbeeofthesea & @f-ing-ruthless-baz for the support & beta help. Thank you as well to @pipsqueakparker for betaing & & for the fervent DeNiall support 💜🙏🏼💜

DEV

"Wonder how B's faring," Niall says. 

He's stood there, the moon casting shadows from the trees on his skin as he blows smoke from his petrol station cigar. (This is what we do on New Year's: go out to the woods to get trolleyed and smoke. Used to be I'd nick some of my dad's cigars and alcohol—top-shelf sort of thing—but we're old enough to buy our own shit now.) (Pretty sure Dad knew, anyway.) (I thought about nicking stuff tonight, for old time’s sake. Then I decided I’ve fucked with him enough for one visit.) (Really, I vacillated between thinking it’d be a shit idea and a good one. Like maybe it'd—I don’t know—instill a sense of normalcy or something.)

I take a sip of cider, then swirl what’s left around inside the can. (I honestly didn’t think I’d be up for drinking tonight. Not after I spent the start of this trip legless and chundering into Daphne’s rose bushes. My appetite’s back, though, and so’s my taste for alcohol, apparently. Also it’s tradition. Or I guess we’re making it tradition. Three years, now.) "Getting some, hopefully," I say.

Niall taps my boot with his. "You're worried about him."

I cut my eyes to him. Fuck, but he’s a vision. I know I get on Baz for his smoking all the time, but there’s something about seeing Niall do it. Just once a year. I feel like that bloke from that vine. Wow. "Darling, it'll be a cold day in hell if I ever stop worrying about Baz bloody Pitch."

I’m not worried about Baz, not exactly. Salisbury’s a good bloke; he’ll take care of him. I’m more worried Baz won’t take care of Baz, but that’s always. And I’m more focused on Niall than I am Baz at the moment, anyway.

We’ve only kissed since the other night at mine. Also we’ve had some questionable—and titillating—phone conversations. Some even more questionable—and titillating—texts, probably, which mostly just had him worried I’d accidentally sext the group chat. (His fears weren’t unfounded, and Baz nearly blew his stack, I think.) 

Anyway, we’ve only kissed since. Since. Which is fine. I’ve just spent the last few nights longing for my dorm and whacking it to my beautiful memories. 

I’ve got hope for tonight. Immeasurable hope. We’re alone. In the woods. A little tipsy. Also my arse looks smashing in these jeans, if I do say so myself. 

I tap his boot with mine as I finish off my cider and crumple the can. Toss it to the ground (I'll pick it up later). "Don't want to talk about Baz, anyway."

I'd much rather talk about the possibility of getting off with you just now…

I wonder if he can see the way I’m staring at his mouth. The way his lips keep curling around the cigar…

It’s doing things to me. 

“Do you want to talk at all?” Niall says, flicking ash. 

I raise an eyebrow at him and glance down at his mouth again. He huffs through his nose, little swirls of steam rising on the air.

Then he sets the cigar against his lips, and pulls, and then pulls me to him by the back of my neck. Our mouths’re just barely touching as he gives me the smoke, as I take it, as it fills me, and I let it go…

There’s not much of a drug in a petrol station cigar, but it’s still absolutely fucking intoxicating. Like I finally know what’s meant by that saying, going weak in the knees . Leave it to Niall fucking Sheridan to have me bloody swooning, Jesus.

Keep reading on AO3

[cowboypossume]

sdfghj I'm so sorry for coming back to this so late I am living in Tumblr bliss without checking my inbox but a) babe is totally fine I love that!! and my names aru (no a, you were close though!!)

yeah I'm like...halfway ash through the book? Simon snow needs a break but I WOULD LOVE TO HEAR YOUR OPINIONS EVEN IF THEY WEREN'T GOOD

AND SORRY FOR NOT RESPONDING TO YOUR DMs I'm really bad at messaging I'll try to get better!!!

hey hey don’t sweat about the dm thing ! the inbox is something i can learn to do :D !!! but ok you and spoilers throughout literally the entire and this is gonna be a lot and unedited (mostly) because BEHZYZTGZYSHSYHZUENEUSBS IM SO U P S E T

undeather the - - - - - - is when the spoilers stop

ok, ok, getting striaght to the point. it’s so horny. it’s so horny. and for W H A T ? WHAT THE FUCK WAS THE REASON FOR IT TOBE T H A T HORNY? AND EVEN THEN ALL OF THE SEX STUFF WAS SO V A U G E ? LIKE EVERY TIME SIMON AND BAZ WERE TOGETHER IT TYRNED INTO SEX AND YES OK AS AN ACE I G E T HOW MUCH SEX CAN COME UP, BUT LIKE, ENDYXHZYGSHSYZGE WHAT WAS THAT?? IT WASNT EVEN WELL WRITTEN! IT WAS JUST SIMON BEING LIKE “i want more but it’s not enough” AND LIKE NOT REALLY ELABORATING ?? AND THEN THEYD BE SHARING A CUTE MOMENT THEN *bam* HORNY AGAIN? OK ALSO AS FAR I KNOW RAINBOW ROWELLE IS A CIS HET STRAIGHT WOMEN .. BABE WE DONT NEED THAT MUCH SEX BETWEEN THE MLM RELATIONSHIP??? AND THEN WJEN THEY ACTUALLY KIND OF EVEN HAVE SEX ITS SO V A U G E (AGAIN!) ITS NOT UNTIL SEVERAL PAGES LATER I REALIZED THAT THAT TIME WAS ACTUALLY SEX VS ALL THE TIMES IT WASNT? I DIDNT LIKE IT !!

ok now that i’m done being upset about how fucking vague it was, i also didn’t like how it was used as a metaphor for simon wanting to actually try in a relationship? yes it’s important to try in relationships and compromise and try when you don’t want to, that’s important, obviously, but like ,, you’re allowed to have your own believes about sex. that doesn’t have to be the soul focus of your relationship. baz himself even admits that they “have bigger things to worry about”. there are ways to show growth in a relationship without sex, and even if you do, IT DOESNT NEED TO BE THAT VAUGE?? AND OFTEN? simon felt overwhelmed in those positions and then was like “ok lol i’m done with anxiety and just gonna try now and no more anxiety :)” it felt like to me? and then bam bow horny. ALSO. ITS NOW CANNONICAL SIMON HAS A BLOOD KINK ????

ALSO! THAT SCENE IN THE SEWER WAS BAZ BEING LIKE

“please fucking stop about asking me to drain you. i’m makes me so uncomfortable and scared and stop.”

and simon was like “but it’s hotttttt”. WHAT ?? BABE WE DONT HAVE TIME TO UNPACK ALL OF THAT.

WHICH BRINGS ME TO NEXT POINT: WHY? WHY THE FUCK DID SIMON GROWL??? W H A T?? WHAT THE FUCK?? WHAT THE FUCK WAS HIM G R OW L I N G WHEN HE SPOKE??

and ok something i didn’t fit in before was all the weird ways the kissing scenes were described? i’m from america so maybe it’s like a dialect thing i don’t understand, but constantly hearing “i shove my nose into his face” while they were kissing was so weird?? like shove, similar words i frankly don’t want to remember, we’re used all the time? and for what? hmmm??? what was that?????? i cant express to you how of a fever dream this book was?? but ohohoho i have more to unpack.

penny to me always felt like the token diversity friend when it wasn’t in her point of view (and even then pushing it) and so i didn’t love her character. but!! her and simon’s friendship was realistic. i could get behind that. HOWEVER. THIS BOOK TAKES THAT AWAY. SIMON once is like “give me space” and then she’s just like “ok” and i feel like their friendship never got repaired at the end? i stopped really paying attention because fucking shit i was so tired of the constant sex between baz and simon that i zoned out most of it so maybe it did but ,, i don’t think it did. i’m pretty sure she got with shepard and then he got with baz and then that was the end of the friendship because ✨ooooo we’re dating people✨ thing. which ,, isn’t how it happens??

and while we’re here: i didn’t like the penny and shepard ship but whatever it felt like it was inevitable like female x male loki so i was like “huh disappointed but not surprised” feeling when they kissed. if you like it, cool great (/gen), i didnt and that’s swaggy but, ok, the plot of shepard being engaged to a female demon who i think wants to fuck him in hell only to be resolved in like 2 pages of a monologue so penny and shepard can get together was ?? so WEIRD ??? like what was that ?? how did that develop their relationship? idk it was so weird.

but ok back to simon and penny, i kept reading and reading and reading on so i could maybe get to at least talk again and then,, they didn’t? they just didn’t. they never made up their friendship and i get that you lose friends along your life. believe me i’m the last person you have to drive that point home to. but,,,,, god i hated that their friendship ended. for WHAT REASON DID IT END?? simon said he needed space, penny respected that, got a boyfriend and simon did too, so no longer theyre friends? something i liked about this series was the group dynamic all of the books had. no matter who’s pov it was in you could tell who each character was because it was unqiue. you still could in this book so i’ll give credit where credit’s due. however THIS BOOK WAS LIKE 3 ENTIRELY DIFFERENT STORIES WITH NO CONECTJON REWLLY ?? WHICH IS FINE I JUST ,, didn’t get that in the first two books so ,,,, why is it here ?

and ok something else while i’m criticizing is: i don’t love her writing style. i didn’t like how in book one i got “here’s an introduction to my magical word told through past tense and memories and so hopefully you’re all caught up now” which i was willing to overlook because just because i don’t like the style means it bad. at least this book didn’t do that but idk didn’t love that aspect.

ok back to the three stories: i love agatha being a bisexual goat care taker. that’s it literally she should have been the main character. like deadass i loved her story so much. that’s it that’s all /pos.

ok but! simon finding his family was cool. i liked that he got that. the pacing of the scene where he finds out was a little rushed for me but, then again, based on my writing i can’t really critique on that so … liked it, enough. idk how to elaborate. wasn’t the worst part of this book but doesn’t really sit well with me.

and i’m so confused about simon’s wings. he does want them and constantly brings up his surgery and then all of a sudden ,, doesn’t? i think? the last chapter is so vague and simon mentions being on the fence about it and i understand that we as the reader don’t need to know everything about what the future holds for these characters but also ?? beudhyzhsgsbeysyzb babe he brought it up like all the time and can i please get a solid answer ??

aLSO. WHY DID SIMON AND BAZ BREAKUP ONLY FOR THEM TO GET TOGETHER 5 CHAPTERS LATER?? WHAYDYXYZGWH WHAT WAS THE POINT OF WAYWAYRD SON IF SHE JUST DID THAT???? LIKE WHXGXYVZYZHE YOU MADE THEM STAY TOGETHER WHEN SIMON WAS BEING AN ACTUAL DICK FOR AN ENTIRE BOOK (which i will defend until the day i die those scenes weren’t an OUNCE of how horny this book is), THEY BREAKUP, AND THEN GET TOGETHER AGAIN?? NOT EVEN 100 PAGES AFTER THEY BREAKUP??? SHZGZGZYSGSU W H A T? WHAT? I DONT GET IT? i don’t get it.

i kept waiting for the scene where everything came together and it never came. then the epilogue didn’t clarify anything either.

i don’t know. there’s more probably i just didn’t enjoy this book. i would have given it a 5/10 the first time i read it but the more i think about it the lower that number goes so ,, yea not a good time.

- - - - - -

so! that’s a lot! completely get it if you disagree :D. you’re allowed to like a book even though i don’t. and also i have no energy to edit this so enjoy me screaming about it !

[chaoslifeforme]

"I'm gonna take a selfie with the statue"

"Simon. I get that it's famous, and you haven't had many opportunities to take pictures with tourist attractions... but this is just a random statue someone made up a story about in an attempt to attract tourists. We'll see better attractions once we reach New York."

"You're just upset the beautiful statue didn't come to life when you held his hand for your selfie"

"I was too young for him at that age anyway. I was just intrigued by the idea of someone being turned to stone by a spell. It would have to be a powerful one, some really popular nursery rime..."

"Well if I hold his hand and wake him up.. then you could ask him exactly what spell statue-statueified him"

"I'll wait for you to take your selfie, but then we really have to rush to reach New York by sun down."

Simon bounds up the stairs towards the statue, leaving the purple haired girl waiting at the bottom of the stairs. The statue stands tall with it's hand facing up as if waiting for an offering. Many people have placed their hands in his hoping theirs may be the hand the pretty man is waiting for. Even without colour his eyes look piercing, his slicked back hair smooth, and cheekbones sharp enough to cut rock. (Ironic considering he seems to be made of rock).

Simon places his hand in the statues and drops his phone as the man falls into his arms.

"Baz"

"What!?"

"That's my name, you dolt. Thanks for the help, but you can let me go now."

"Simon! You did it! I can't believe you did it!"

"But I just.. I just saved you." Penelope bounds up the stairs as Simon stutters out that response.

"You did. And now I'm free from everything but these shockingly strong arms of yours."

"Shock-shockingly!?"

"Well it's not like I've met you before, and the requirement to break the curse certainly wasn't strength."

"What was it then?" Penelope asks before Simon can respond.

"And who are you?"

"Penelope Bunce, and the strong, handsome, man kind enough to hold you upright is Simon Snow. I suggest you come with us before other people start trying to claim they revived you."

"Normally I'd disagree on principle, but I've been a statue long enough to know that people are crazy."

"You still haven't answered my question. You can do so as we make our way to the car."

The three of them fight their way past the grabby hands of other tourists, and some journalists who arrive at the scene ridiculously quick. Once safely in the car Penelope tries again to get an answer.

"Okay, the crowd was bigger than expected. Now that we can breathe, what quality of Simons broke your curse?" A pause, "I know it wasn’t his freckles, or adorable dimples because other people who have those have taken pictures with you before now."

"I don't have to tell you anything."

"You're being an ungrateful tosser! Penny and I saved you, the least you could do is answer our questions."

"I was perfectly fine as a statue."

"We could put you back...", suggests Penelope.

"Not as I am now, as I was before!"

"So what changed?"

"The person who is supposedly perfect for me gave me their hand."

"That person was Simon."

"Me-Me!?"

"Who else? It's not like it was Bunce who caught me in her arms. You did. The last person I loved turned me into a statue until such time as someone who could bring me to love again gave me their hand. It promises that I will once again be burned by love."

"Wait a minute. Did whoever cursed you really say that Simon would burn you?"

"Love does not need to be cursed to do that. When you care about someone you share in their pains, but that doesn't mean they share in yours."

"So you're afraid Simon won't love you."

"He has no reason to."

"He is--I am--I have reasons to like you."

"And what might those be?"

"You have nice eyes-"

"Nice?!"

"Sharp? Eyes?, they are attractive"

"You would love me for my eyes?!"

"I'm not done. Stop interrupting me. You tosser!"

"You've used that word already, you should have used bastard, or git."

"See!? You're also smart, and smug. Smirking. Smirking git, but I like your smirk, and I can be a git too, you'll see that later, if you stick around, not that you have to, you're just handsome and smart and annoyingly graceful when walking through crowds and I think we could have fun together-"

"Simon. Breathe."

"....... That's the first time you've said my name."

"Perhaps you should say mine before we get up to anything... fun.."

"...Baz.."

"This got awkward really fast. Save the flirting for your hotel room...Which will be separate from mine."

"You wanted a separate room anyways so you could Skype Micah."

"I suppose it worked out."

There is a beautiful statue of a person in the middle of a large city, and the rumor surrounding the statue is that when they touch hands with their soulmate, they will become human. Naturally, it becomes a perfect photo and video opportunity to pose while holding its hand.

One cute selfie attempt results in an empty statue podium and you just barely catching a very confused person in your arms.