#baz is the pining idiot

[cosmicalart]

I'm scheduling this as I work all day and have no other way of posting this on Wednesday otherwise.

Currently, I'm working on my "Young Simon pulls Older Baz into the past, time-traveling and angsty chaos ensue" fic. No working title, nor am I very far into it, mostly just have an outline that needs some tweaking right now but I am gonna give a snippet of something I wrote that may or may not make the final cut. If it does this scene may end up in chapter two.

Baz Pov

Could he be watching me, as I watch Simon? I'm refusing to look over to find out, at least by ignoring my younger presence I can pretend that I'm watching my Simon. Pretend that there's nothing stopping me from reaching out. That he'd wake at my cool touch and roll over to accept me with open arms.

Tags under the cut

As this is scheduled Idk who has posted yet or not so take these generous no-pressure tags

@artsyunderstudy @aristocratic-otter @cultofsappho @krisrix @vkelleyart @ionlydrinkhotwater @fatalfangirl @cutestkilla @hushed-chorus @valeffelees and whoever else would like to join

[j-trow-95]

2024 in review

Thanks for the tags @artsyunderstudy and @nausikaaa

Wow. 2024 has been ... a year.

I've spent this last year flip-flopping between periods of intense creativity and intense burnout. I've barely posted anything on here, and even less over on AO3, but I have been writing, and the plot gremlins have been working overtime when it comes to planning out where the WIPs are going.

Object permanence and keeping timelines straight in my head are things I struggle with, so I can't remember exactly when I actually achieved any of these things, but I did, and that's all that matters.

Huge thanks as always to Ashton for the incredible artwork in this fic, and for the beta help along with my editor Zoë, @cutestkilla and @iamamythologicalcreature

I posted one chapter of The Trails We Blaze, my 2023 @carryonthroughtheages fic, which is a SnowBaz/The Road to El Dorado au.

Simon and Baz have been through a lot together. Growing up as criminals on London's streets; surviving the Great War; dealing with a lot of repressed feelings. But after their latest con goes wrong, they're left with nothing but an ancient map, a signet ring of unknown provenance or value, and promises of a city that doesn't even exist.

Thrust into a world of adventure with danger at every turn, they're forced to decide how far they're willing to go for a myth, a fortune, and a chance at love.

This fic is going to be a real labour of love and I have big plans for it going forward. If you haven't started it yet, here's what to expect:

adventure across post WW1 England, France, and Spain

exciting action

political machinations

idiots in love pining for each other

epic romance (when they eventually get their shit together)

I know roughly how this is going to end, and I have a first draft up to the 'It's Tough to be a God' sequence (if you know the original film), but I'm currently trying to rewrite a large section of that draft. Discovery writing has been a massive learning curve for me, but I'm excited to get back to this fic and the characters.

Again, massive thanks to Ashton for the stunning artwork of Lauren. I never stop geeking out over the fact I get to call this incredible woman my friend, and that I get to actually look at my chaos gremlin MC anytime I want!

Most of my time writing this year has been spent on approximately the billionth rewrite of my original novel, A Survivor's Revenge.

I am desperate to get this story into the hands of readers, whether that's though trad or indie publishing, and so far I've had good feedback from my editor and alpha reader on the previous draft. But me being me, I couldn't leave it at that.

So now I'm rewriting the book and completely changing the way it's written. The shift from 3rd person/past tense to 1st person/present tense has finally got things moving in terms of developmental edits; the plot flows more smoothly, character interactions and growth are coming more naturally, and for once the villain motivations and plans are becoming clear! Praise the chaos gods.

Lauren Atkins is many things. Student. Daughter. Friend. But at her core, she’s a survivor. And she has one thing on her mind … revenge.

For the lovers of genre spanning sci-fi, morally grey main characters, full spectrum queer identities, and found family, A Survivor’s Revenge will have you asking, how far are you willing to go to protect the ones you love?

I went back and looked at some super old drafts of ASR a couple of months ago; after a conversation with my alpha reader decided to reinstate an old plot line that I'd shelved, and I am super excited to get back to this one. Lauren has become even more morally grey since I last handled this plot line, so things are going to get very bloody very quickly.

So the last two months have been spend sporadically rewriting this behemoth, and I'll be continuing that into January. Originally I was doing this as part of the PaWriCo writing challenge, but I don't think I'll manage to finish the full draft by the end of January. Currently it's sitting at 27.3k words, and if I wanted to hit par I should've been at 65.2k. So, likelihood of hitting 100k by 31st January is minimal.

This little floof is largely the reason for me falling behind.

Benjamin has been back in the vets consistently since the end of November for scans and surgeries, and now for an ongoing infection following the most recent surgery. It's safe to say my nerves and wallet are strained to the maximum, but he's 100% worth it.

So yeah. 2024 may not have been the most productive year for writing, but things have been happening behind the scenes, and I'm hopeful that I'll be able to share more in the new year.

I've missed interacting with people on here, I'm tired of just lurking. This chaos gremlin is back, baby!

Tagging (sorry if you've already done something like this):  @aristocratic-otter @blackberrysummerblog @bookish-bogwitch @cutestkilla @emeryhall

@hushed-chorus @iamamythologicalcreature @ic3-que3n @ileadacharmedlife @letraspal @orange-peony

@shrekgogurt @skeedelvee @theearlgreymage @you-remind-me-of-the-babe 

[you-remind-me-of-the-babe]

12345 Tag Game

Rules: Give us the links to your fic with the most hits, second most kudos, third most comments, fourth most bookmarks, fifth most words, and fic with the least words (feel free to interpret however you would like; if not on AO3, can be on Tumblr or FFNET, etc)!

Thanks for the tags @run-for-chamo-miles @ileadacharmedlife

Most hits: Depth of Reason (Snowbaz, M, 71k)

Simon Snow is a social worker in the Department of Magical Creature Management. His caseload consists of goblins, werewolves, and other dark creatures whom the Coven monitors for the safety and well being of the World of Mages. Simon’s world is upended one day when his old Watford roommate, Baz Pitch, walks into his office. After being outed as a vampire at the age of 27, Baz is now subjected to a year of bi-monthly check-ins with his former nemesis before he can live under more “limited” surveillance by the Coven.

Now, seeing Baz again, having him under his “care,” forces Simon to confront his view of Baz, and makes him wonder whether the Coven’s policies towards dark creatures are justified. Is it too late for Simon to make amends with Baz? And will the two of them be able to stand up against the Coven’s draconian policies for the greater good of all magical kind?

Second most kudos: Plus One written with @fatalfangirl (Snowbaz, T, 10k)

Simon is doing his best to handle his massive crush on his best friend Baz while they room together for their last year of University. Baz is doing just fine pining after Simon while also studying for his final exams and fulfilling Man of Honor duties for his Aunt Fiona’s looming wedding. When Simon hears Baz hasn’t found a date to be his plus one for the big day, he volunteers. What are friends for, right? Plus, maybe this wedding will be the perfect setting to shove these two idiots together.

Third most comments: Beastly (Snowbaz, T, 50k)

Simon Snow was conscripted to join the Mage's army at the age of 11 to fight the dark creatures that had suddenly appeared throughout the realm. Now at the age of 18, he is referred to as the Golden Knight, and is expected to fulfill various prophecies that foretell he will bring an end to this war.

Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch left the army a year and a half ago when his father died, allowing him to take over his father's title as a duke. But unbeknownst to the outside world, Baz and the inhabitants of his castle have been trapped under a curse since his arrival at the castle. So far, they've tried in vain to break the curse, or slow its spread.

When Simon discovers one day that no one at the Mage's fortress seems to remember his old roommate Baz, he sets out to find out what happened to him. Will Simon be able to find Baz and help break the curse?

Fourth most bookmarks: How to Avoid a Scandal (Snowbaz, T, 43k)

Simon Salisbury and Baz Pitch are co-stars on the sleeper hit television show The World of Mages. When Baz receives an email from TMZ asking for comment on a questionable photo of him with California state senator Smith Smith-Richards, Baz and Simon decide to fake a relationship to avoid scandalous rumors surfacing about Smith and Baz having an affair. How do you put out a public relations fire? With more fire.

Fifth most word count: Back and Back and Back (Snowbaz, T, WIP currently at 21k)

The thing about being in love with someone from the future is…well, it’s crap, isn’t it?

When Baz was young, he initially thought the Dragon Man visiting the woods behind his house was a figment of his imagination. As he grew, he realised his friend was very real, if still somewhat mysterious. When the Crucible finally casts Baz and Simon Snow as roommates, the truth of who he is begins to unravel.

A time travel AU.

Least words: [Podfic] Petrichor written by @martsonmars and read by me (Snowbaz, T, 0 words, 34 min listen)

Author’s Summary: Summer is ending, and with it Simon and Baz's gap year. The time before Simon leaves for college in the States is dwindling, and Baz already feels his best friend slipping through his fingers.

But maybe they just need a rainy day and a bit of carefree fun to reconnect and figure out what they really want.

Features: biking under the rain, childhood memories, and long-awaited confessions. And a nap.

This was interesting! Yes, I’ve looked at my stats page before and compared things but the order here with looking into the third, fourth, fifth, etc ended up surprising me. Beastly was my first fic and wasn’t as widely read as many of my later fics so I wasn’t expecting it to come in 3rd for comments. I looked back and saw that a good chunk of the comments came from people who found it later, which might explain how it crept up there. (It’s so lovely when someone reads something of yours and then goes back and reads your older stuff, too.) 0 words is so deceptive. That Podfic took me so long to record and edit lol. 😂 Endless props to Podficcers! I have more thoughts but this post is long enough so I’ll refrain.

Tagging some peeps if you’d like to play @bookish-bogwitch @fatalfangirl @whatevertheweather @cutestkilla @artsyunderstudy @thewholelemon @emeryhall @martsonmars

[cutestkilla]

Thanks for the tags today @wellbelesbian @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @bookish-bogwitch and @monbons! I love your WIPs/fics tremendously. And thanks to all my other lovelies who keep tagging me every wipsday even though I only seem to share every 6 weeks or so 😂. Contrary to how it may appear, I am consistently working away on Chapter 5 of Hiding Out in the Open and I'm SO CLOSE to being done.

Anyway, let's catch up with way more than six sentences of Baz in one of my favourite places: mid-spiral.

What would Snow think it meant that I sent this to him? “Every time I said this reminds me of you, what I really meant was: this reminds me of me,” I’d told him once. Why did I ever say that? Why did I tell him anything reminded me of him, ever? Why didn’t I stop for a single solitary second to consider the dangerous precedent it would set, or how ridiculously transparent I was being with my secret garden and my cute snacks and my desperate incentives to let me close? Fuck me, what if he thought this was the reveal I’d idiotically teased to lure him out on a Friday night? "Surprise, Snow! I fell for you the moment we met, spent half the ensuing years mistaking the intense pain of knowing I could never have you for hatred, and the remainder pining after you in miserable silence and planning to die by your sword. Let’s discuss the psychological implications in painstaking detail! I brought popcorn!"

Tags and hellos under the cut friends!

@artsyunderstudy @shrekgogurt @ivelovedhimthroughworse @hushed-chorus @thewholelemon

@emeryhall @creepyspice @iamamythologicalcreature @whatevertheweather @facewithoutheart

@aristocratic-otter @j-nipper-95 @fatalfangirl @mooncello @forabeatofadrum @raenestee

@onepintobean @martsonmars @prettygoododds @run-for-chamo-miles @blackberrysummerblog

@that-disabled-princess @best--dress @stitchyqueer @brilla-brilla-estrellita @valeffelees

@cosmicalart @urban-sith @captain-aralias @rimeswithpurple @ileadacharmedlife

@nightimedreamersworld @orange-peony @larkral @ic3-que3n @technetiumai

@theearlgreymage @palimpsessed @angelsfalling16 @whogaveyoupermission @youarenevertooold

[shemakesmeforget]

so I'm 7.5k words into the baz has a diary fic and I have more observations to make:

- pining or horniness? why not both??

- some unresolved sexual tension might just got resolved

- the unresolved romantic tension... no

- slow burn but they fuck sort of kind of

- might be chaptered might be 10k+ words of oneshot

- will def share some of this soon (today probs) so watch this space for some idiots in horny love

[kraken-llamas]

Baz’s internal monologue

[delyn-doodles]

Me @ Me: could you draw in the same style as all your other works, so that maybe just maybe people will identify that it’s you?

Me: ......... :) no

[thehoneyedhufflepuff]

chapter 16 is just over 4k thus far so technically we're just getting started, but here are some of my favorite Simon bits (so far) because I need to motivate myself to make more words today:

the thing about the shower wank...

#let baz be loved:

normal tea-time thoughts:

[forabeatofadrum]

*peeks around the corner*

I don’t see a tag so lemme kick it off, partially because I am excited to talk about my CO text fic! Yes, it is done, so this maybe isn’t really a “WIP” Wednesday, since the fic left the hospital, but I’ve seen other people use these posts like this.

Have a little snippet of make a fire out of this flame, my now-published CO text fic!

This fic has shenanigans, Dev and Niall being idiots, mutual pining, scheming, giant inflatable fishes and the power of Magic Mike Live. I have some musings about this fic, but I’ll put that under the cut. Beware of spoilers!

But first, the weather: @quizasvivamos @blurglesmurfklaine @coffeegleek @esperantoauthor @otherworldsivelivedin @caramelcoffeeaddict @sillyunicorn @bazzybelle @dragoneggos @raenestee @tectonicduck @nightimedreamersworld @urban-sith @thnxforknowingme @captain-aralias @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @takitalks @justgleekout @cerriddwenluna @tea-brigade @ivelovedhimthroughworse @moodandmist @whogaveyoupermission @bookish-bogwitch @confused-bi-queer @aroace-genderfluid-sheep @ionlydrinkhotwater @1908jmd @special-bc-ur-part-of-it @larkral @chen-chen-chen-again-chen​ @cutestkilla​​ @nausikaaa​/@wellbelesbian​ @artsyunderstudy​ @martsonmars​ @facewithoutheart​​ @boyinjeans

Okay, I admit I just tweaked some small things in the fic. There were still some minor formatting issues and some mistakes that the format cannot explain. As in, the best part of writing a textfic was that I could keep in the typos and small mistakes, because when you quickly send a text, it is so easy to write the wrong thing. Heck, even when tweaking I found some typos I didn’t see before, like this one:

Obviously, Niall meant to write “i dont” or something. I didn’t catch the idk, but I think that from the context it is clear that Niall means “I don’t” and again, this is a believable mistake in the world of textfics. But yeah, there were one or 2 mistakes that made me go 🤔🤔🤔.

The biggest thing was that yesterday I found out that after the party I completely fucked up the dates. When Baz texts Niall after midnight on Monday 5th, it is a continuation of what happened on Sunday 4th, so I accidentally wrote “Sunday 5th” and this wrong dating thing continued throughout the entire story up until the “epilogue” (aka the prize ceremony on the 23rd). Damn. So I fixed all the days only to realise that I wrote certain events around the day. As in, Baz has classes on Tuesday, so he texts Simon from university when they just got together. I had to add a quick line somewhere that says Baz has classes on Tuesday AND Wednesday. Oh, and now Dev and Niall left on Monday, not Sunday, so it was longer than a weekend trip 😅. I am certain that if you just read the fic, you didn’t notice this error, but I did and it annoyed me oop.

This used to be “My friends will be here for the weekend”, which is still true, but now it was longer than the weekend, Bazzy.

Speaking of dates, it’s interesting that I have been writing this since September, I think. I used November and December 2022 as a setting and when I started out, that was still in the near future. Now I’ve published it in February 2023, so the events happened in the near past.

Anyway I am happy that people like it. I read all the comments on AO3 and here in the tags. I’m glad I made people laugh (especially since I laughed a lot while writing it) (Niamh dipping out was peak characterisation if I may say so!)

[meenawrites]

Happy Birthday to Baz Pitch, the bestest gay vampire that I know and love!

I would like to say I'm thankful to have Baz and his pining POV in my life, and well, BAZ OKAY!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THIS SELF-DEPRECATING IDIOT WHO HAS SO MUCH LOVE TO GIVE I JUST WANT TO SQUISH HIM IN A HUG AND BLANKET FOREVER!

[carry-on-big-bang]

Deep blue, but you painted me golden.

Author: @castawaypitch

Artist: @mae-berry

Warnings: Author Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings.

Rate: Explicit.

Tags: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Celebrity, Photographer Simon Snow, Musician Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch, Falling In Love, Mutual Pining, Flirtingt, hey're both idiots, Secret Relationship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, but barely mentioned, Writing songs as a love language, Simon becomes Baz's muse, and there are lots of taylor swift references, Inspired by Taylor Swift, Light Sexual Content, Light Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Idiots in Love, Love Confessions, Love Symbolisms.

Summary:

"I'm a mess, but I'm the mess that you wanted.

'Cause it's gravity

Keeping you with me."

When Simon bumps into a stranger in a fest he's working at, there's no way he'd know he's just soaked the clothes of Baz Pitch, a very popular musician that is already running late for his show. And, of course, he wouldn't believe that that little encounter is about to change his fate.

When Baz realizes that the same guy that caused part of his delay at stage by ruining his clothes is also a photographer for an important magazine, he knows he can get a sweet, little revenge over the incident, while also giving this luck push for his career. What he doesn't know, though, is that those blue eyes are about to become an inspiration for his music.

Word Count: 3.8k posted, 50k estimated

Art: To be shown throughout the fic!

[goddesspharo]

I think @earnmysong tagged me eons ago for this and it was just sitting in my drafts waiting to be completed because I am the worst!

the more you know

favorite color | Blue

currently reading | My piano boys got together to play a Something Corporate concert for Andrew McMahon's 40th birthday (I feel old, you feel old, we all feel old about everything in that sentence, but I am still sad that I missed it) and the nostalgia of all that was too much so I'm about to start Andrew McMahon's memoir Three Pianos.

last song | Twin Shadows' Saturdays featuring HAIM. Impeccable 80s movie set in suburbia vibes. Plus, the line "maybe we're a fault line, maybe we're a phone line ready to break" is A+.

last series | I watched all of Abbott Elementary over the weekend and it was most excellent! Last night I caught up on House of the Dragon where everyone has the same conversations about succession in every episode so legit the best thing to happen has been the show going all in on the extremely wrong incestuous relationship between Rhaenyra and Daemon (coincidentally the only two characters with any personality)??? Rhaenyra using the attempt to call her virtue into question to oust the dude gatekeeping the throne, bone down her bodyguard like she was in medieval Chasing Liberty after Daemon left her hanging, and then gaslight her stepmother into believing that she didn't want to bang anyone is, simply put, queen shit. (Daemon rolling around on the ground while drunk and lovelorn like the most try-hard junior in a high school production of Billy Shakes' R+J as interpreted by Baz Luhrmann through a community theater lens was icing on the cake.)

last movie | I contain multitudes which is to say that I got bored watching Young Guns so I gave up and saw Emily The Criminal instead. A superior choice because Aubrey Plaza is consistently the best part of any movie she is in and her chemistry with Theo Rossi in this was fabulous.

spicy/sweet/savory | You can never have too much savory, but you can go overboard with the other two.

currently working on | Working through my sadness that Roswell, New Mexico decided in its final season to remember it's a CW show and therefore embarrassing on multiple levels. The writers said let's drop EVERY BALL to focus on three new characters that no one cares about instead of spending time on the ones whose happiness everyone has been invested in for the last three seasons. (Could've just had them alternate between hanging out with Shiri Appleby and making out while the entire Counting Crows discography played in the background for the final season and it would've been a success.) Anyway, I haven't actually written anything, but if I did, it would be a S4 AU of what would happen if the show leaned into having Kyle and Isobel date-while-not-calling-it-dating (because they're idiots!) after hooking up in Mexico except Kyle doesn't throw out any love declarations and instead continues to pine like a forest while Isobel tries to work through her complicated relationship with romance. (You cannot mention Noah that many times at the start of the season and then never get into it!)

[you-remind-me-of-the-babe]

Trope Grading Game

Thank you for the tags @aristocratic-otter and @artsyunderstudy! I really love hearing what y’all are into and why.

Rules: How much do these tropes affect your decision to click on a fic?

-10 -> very dissuaded

0 -> don’t care either way

+10 -> very enticed

nope -> if it’s a hard no and you’d never click on a fic with that tag or or you even have the tag blocked or you’d insta click out of the fic if it wasn’t tagged

Bonus points for explaining the rating and whether it’s conditional.

So the short answer is 0 for everything because I don’t read tags anymore because they never affected my choice to read a story the way a summary, snippet, rec or author gushing about their work would. But! even choosing with these methods the tropes bleed through so here are my rankings

Age gap: -1

I’m not opposed to it per se, I just don’t see the appeal. I just finished a book with side characters in a relationship with a big age gap and I tried to be open minded but it creeped me out a bit. Although I did write Baz as a 200 year old vampire so I guess there’s that! 😅

Codependency: +5

Yeah, give me two people leaning on each other. I think we suffer in silence too much. I think we need human connection. Gimme two people who aren’t afraid to ask for what they want. Yeah sure, it can be problematic but mostly I think it’s nice.

Obsession/possessiveness, jealousy: +5

I fucking love possessive Simon. Sometimes this trope isn’t done well in other stories but with Snowbaz I eat that shit up.

Opposites (grumpy/sunshine etc): +8

I looooove it. Working past your stereotypes? Becoming more open minded? Seeing someone on a deeper level? Grabby hands

Enemies to lovers, Enemies with benefits: +8

This is the majority of Snowbaz so obviously, yes. Sometimes I’m not a fan outside the fandom, but here it’s so good. And enemies with benefits??? Please. Cue me foaming at the mouth reading Restoration Ecology by @captain-aralias or it’s fabulous remix by @royalasstronaut.

Friends with benefits: +8

Yes please. As long as there’s some deep feelings involved, even if they come later, I’m there. And often with friendship you’ve got the platonic love there that sometimes builds to more so yes. More Than Friends by @fatalfangirl is an EXCELLENT example of this where they are just pining idiots from day 1 and I’m obsessed.

Sex to feelings: +10

FUCK YES. I will take it every time. I love sex, I love a good slow burn, I love sex with feelings. Make them earn it? PLEASE. Someone Wicked does this so well. @artsyunderstudy is the queen of sex with feelings.

Fake dating/relationship: +8

Yup, this is a goodie. even just fake friendship a la RWRB. Lovely. But yeah when their dating and they gotta kiss to sell it? And the other thinks they are faking but really that’s how they feel? Mmm hmm. Yummy.

Friends to lovers: +10

Y’all know this is my thing. I’ve written it several times. They love each other SO MUCH but they are too afraid to ruin their friendship so they feel they can’t make a move. The angst is right there and I love it.

Found family: +1

This can be great, but if that’s the whole premise I might pass. Fluff can be fun but if that’s all there is, I usually pass. But! If this is a theme in a longer fic with more complex plot? Then it can be really good.

Hurt/comfort: +1

Idk why but I associate this tag with shorter fics that just doesn’t actually hit that hard. Like, the hurt is little and immediately followed by the comfort. Give me the BIG angst. Hurt me good before you make it better. I looooove angst with a happy ending. So if that’s what we are doing then give it to me good.

Love triangle: -3

Meh. I always feel bad for the odd one out. I don’t like seeing the pining and angst without the pay out. And usually this is how it goes. If the third person is an asshole you just have to nudge out of the way, then maybe.

Poly, open relationship: -3

I’m actually quite curious about this and I bet it can be done right, but I usually go for a single OTP. Give me your recs though, I’d love to be convinced otherwise.

Mistaken/hidden identity: +10

Hell yes. They didn’t know it was that person all along? And they fell for them anyways? Fantastic. Even better is when they fall for the same person twice. Both hidden and not. And then! All is revealed and it’s the same person! Think love letters from a secret admirer, masquerade, etc. I mean there’s a reason network connectivity problems is the highest kudosed fic in the fandom.

Monsterfucking: +10

And bless this fandom for introducing me to it and going whole hog with our boys and their monster parts.

Pregnancy: -3

Been there, done that, don’t find it sexy. There’s some good mpreg fics in this fandom though so there are exceptions! Orange Juice by @orange-peony is a GREAT one that I really adored. This fandom just really delivers in any area.

Second chance: +9

Yes please! Unless own person is truly awful and doesn’t deserve it, but typically I love someone getting a chance to try and learn from their mistakes and try again. Don’t we all wish we could have a second chance at something?

Slow burn: +10

ITS SO SATISFYING! The payoff is so good after they’ve worked for it. My favorite.

Soulmates: +1

I love when characters can choose each other despite their destiny. I need conflict. I don’t know if I’ve read any Snowbaz ones. I think because I like them at odds and assume they won’t be. @artsyunderstudy is giving me recs to help me see the light LOL.

Who hasn’t done this? Tagging those above who haven’t done it plus a few more, if you’re up for it @whogaveyoupermission @iamamythologicalcreature @facewithoutheart @bookish-bogwitch @cutestkilla @thewholelemon @ivelovedhimthroughworse @ileadacharmedlife @raenestee @valeffelees

[yaboizucchini]

Snowbaz, Drarry, Wolfstar, Zukka, FirstPrince

Connections of (some of) my OTPs.

While I'm sure you already know the ships, I already wrote descriptions so I'm sure as hell gonna put them in here.

Drarry:

Drarry is a non-canon ship, although a lot in the book alludes to it existing, between Harry James Potter and Draco Lucius Malfoy. A lot of evidence for their relationship happens in book 6 of Harry Potter, Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince. Malfoy is a wizard and Harry is as well, Harry is also the chosen one.

Wolfstar:

Wolfstar is a non-canon ship between Sirius Black and Remus John Lupin. They are part of the Harry Potter world. Both are wizards. Remus is a werewolf and Sirius is an animagus.

Snowbaz:

Cannon ship between Simon Snow and Tyrannus Bastilion “Baz” Grim Pitch. Written in first book, Carry On by Rainbow Rowell, later continued in Wayward Son and hopefully things go well and it continues into Anyway the Wind Blows.(Thank fuck it does) Baz is a vampire and a mage with great fashion. Simon is the chosen one and a mage until the end of book one.

FirstPrince:

FirstPrince is a canon ship between Alexander "Alex" Gabriel Claremont-Diaz and His Royal Highness Prince Henry George Edward James Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor of Wales that takes place within Red White and Royal Blue by Casey Mcquiston. Neither of them possess any sort of magical powers, unlike the other ships.

Zukka:

Zukka is also a non-canon ship between Zuko and Sokka within the fictional world of Avatar the Last Airbender. Zuko is a prince and later Firelord, as well as a firebender. Sokka is a non-bender.

Drarry & Wolfastar

Both Harry Potter universe

Sirius and Draco both have constellation names (to be fair they are in the same family)

Sirius and Draco are THE MOST dramatic and extra.

Scars - both Remus and Harry have scarring on their face

Harry and Sirius both were raised in abusive households

Draco and Sirius can speak French (I believe and maybe Baz too)

Drarry, Wolfstar, Snowbaz

Ability to use magic (at least in the beginning)

Gay af

(Baz, Sirius, and Draco) come from prestigious families with old money

Go to school together

Sirius, Harry, and Simon have families that “adopted” them. Sirius had the Potters, Harry has the Weasleys, and Simon had Agatha and Penny's Family.

None of these raging homosexuals can properly deal with their feelings.

Emotionally heart-wrenching

Drarry, Wolfstar, Snowbaz, FirstPrince

Contrasting hair of light and dark

At least one played a sport. (Like legit played not playing a few games of airball or whatever {I'm looking at Sokka here})

Drarry, Wolfstar, Snowbaz, Zukka

Someone really likes dragons (Baz, Charlie, Zuko)

Drarry, Wolfstar, Snowbaz, FirstPrince, Zukka

~Pining~

Idiots to Lovers

Come from old money. (Sirius, Draco, Harry, Zuko, Baz, Henry)

Adorable

Drarry, Wolfstar, Snowbaz, Zukka

Way to much danger for them being literal children

DRAGONS

Set in a universe with a “chosen one”

���Chosen one” in world has a lean to a specific move. Airbending, Expelliarmus, Sword thingy

All somehow related to the chosen one. (Godfather, Brother-in-law, boyfriend)

✨WAR✨

Drarry & Snowbaz

Enemies to lovers

Snow and Harry believing that Draco and Baz are the sole reason behind all misfortune (they think they’re scheming all the time.)

Harry and Simon both being weirdly aware of Baz and Draco at all times, excuse of “think they're up to something”

Baz and Draco calling Harry and Simon by their last name. Then Harry and Simon get somewhat emotional when called by their first names and not Potter and Snow.

Baz and Draco calling everyone by last name

Draco and Baz actually having a sense of fashion

Simon and Harry are both the “chosen one”

Simon and Harry orphaned

Simon and Harry are both inexplicable alive (to everyone’s surprise)

Baz and Draco going out of their way to torment Simon and Harry and that’s their way of affection because they can’t exactly deal with their raging gay in front of their crush- sorry “enemy”

The ships are canon (no, I don’t take criticism, Draco lives rent free in Harry’s head-it’s canon)

Have a really smart friend who is totally dependable Penny and Hermione, but also Draco and Baz are both quite smart and top of their class and then there’s their gay himbos who are lucky to be alive.

Baz and Draco both getting top marks and being smart where as Simon and Harry know almost nothing and get by being the chosen one and have a specific go to move (expelliarmus and Simons sword)

Baz and Draco both (usually) have an established sexuality (gay), whereas Simon and Harry usually don’t and have dated girls and of course their gay lovers

Are a fucking geniric as ship and I keep saving wrong fanart for them. (YOI is my downfall. Viktuuri looks ridiculously similar to Drarry.)

Drarry, Snowbaz, FirstPrince

Reference a food and the fandom will freak (cake, apple, scone {cherry that is})

Drarry, Snowbaz, FirstPrince, Zukka

Enemies to lovers

Drarry, Snowbaz, Zukka

Children.

Drarry & FirstPrince

Could realistically be called Harry

Drarry, FirstPrince, Zukka

Strongly affiliated with a different thing (Idk how to word this, Gryffindor/Slytherin, England/ Off-Brand England, fire nation/water tribe)

Drarry & Zukka

Draco and Zuko both had a villainous part in their lives.

Harry and Sokka give off Hawaiian shirt, dad joke vibes. (and croc vibes, though I hate to admit it)

Iconic scars given to them by a villain.

Shorties

Impaired vision

I have too much fanart of them

Past girlfriend that could kick your ass (Ginny, Suki, Mai, wow Zukka really has a thing for people who could kill them easily)

Red and blue/green ship. They have different colors specific to them (Harry and Zuko red)

I’ve had an unhealthy obsession with this ship.

Utter fucking shit at names, Harry and Sokka. (Foo foo cuddly poops and whatever Harry named his kids)

Wolfstar & Snowbaz

Grimm is in Baz’s name which is Sirius’s animagus (black dog or grim)

Aesthetic. Simon and Remus have a soft aesthetic with fluffy/curly orangey brown hair. Like teddy bears

Sirius and Baz have a pale complexion with (fabulous) black hair and a sharper aesthetic, like a vampire (Baz really is)

Baz and Remus both are considered “monsters” in society, but both have decent control over it and make sure no one gets hurt because of them.

Simon and Sirius low-key don't care that about their “condition”

Roommates- oh my god and they were roommates.

One plays on the school sports team (Sirius and Baz) (Quidditch and Football)

When I search Wolfstar at pride, they both show up

Baz and Remus are both 6’2

Wolfstar, Snowbaz, Zukka

Luxurious hair (you know who) also long hair

Wolfstar & Firstprince

From an outside view, both are friends to lovers. (In reality FirstPrince was enemies to lovers but they had to pretend to be friends so I’m counting it)

Shipname isn’t a combination of their names

Wolfstar, FirstPrince, Zukka

I can’t pinpoint the braincell

Wolfstar & Zukka

Zuko and Remus both have big scars on their faces given to them by people they care/cared about.

Zuko and Sirius both came from bad households.

Said households are wealthy but they’re disowned.

Poor

Not the main characters in their respective fandom

Long hair (Zuko and Sirius)

Special connection to the moon, Sokka and Remus. (girlfriends/bane of existence)

Sokka and Sirius are both flirts and they have their shy little boyfriends

Snowbaz & FirstPrince

I’ve read the book more than once

I’ll be disappointed if you can’t quote it

An unholy amount of cake

Snowbaz, FirstPrince, Zukka

At least part of the ship doesn’t have powers (magical kind)

SnowBaz & Zukka

No powers, Sokka and Simon

FIRE. Zuko and Baz.

Needs badly to have the approval of shitty father (Zuko and Simon)

There’s more coming into the respective universe. (I wrote this before AWTWB was released)

Both have cannon gays and not just some bullshit thrown out later *cough*JK Rowling*cough*

Sword, kachow, surprisingly powerful for not having magic.

Likes dragons (Baz, Zuko)

Close with grandparent before realizing that it is their grandparent.

FirstPrince & Zukka

Add later rather than being part of the initial three (I’m continually shocked that I hadn’t placed FirstPrince in here yet)

Legit royalty (Or a royal-pain-in-the-ass if you asked Sokka or Alex)

Different nations

Feel free to add on! :)

[palimpsessed]

Thirsty Thursday

Doing this because I’ve actually read fics this week! Shocking!

You and I will not be shaken by @nightimedreamersworld (M)

Icy spectres invade Watford and in order to stay safe, roommates have to stick together at all times. Things don’t go as planned for Simon and Baz, leaving them in a tight spot. Cool world building, perfect atmospheric suspense, and delicious romantic tension.

Rinse and Repeat by @stillmadaboutpetra (T)

A powerful exploration of Baz’s mental state post-kidnapping. This fic hit me harder than anything I’ve read in a while. It’s so damn good.

Neighbours-verse by @im-gettingby (T)

Part one and two are the same story, told from different POVs, that together give us the hilarious and charming context of two pining idiots who lack the whole picture, but who are wholly lost for each other. Bonus points for a great Agatha!

Alone Again Or by RooBadley (T)

A heart(breaking/warming) and perfect meditation on Baz’s return to Watford after the Christmas Day fallout. It feels like a love letter from Baz to Simon.

I Meant It, You’ll See by @otherworldsivelivedin (T)

Simon has to catch Baz before he leaves town and confess his feelings...if only he knew what to say. Not that Baz is any help. Featuring texting and absolutely top notch banter! (One more chapter to go.)

Tagging everyone mentioned above and anyone else who has recs to share!

[lallemcnt]

i've got nothing to lose (with you)  🌊 (4.7k)

let's see: eliott and le gang on a mini get-away outside of france, inspired (superficially) by the scottish highlands; this is very much a piece centred on eliott's thoughts and feelings, everything else is secondary.

or, a pining, friends to lovers au

A house on the river with a white chipped window overlooking green valleys of soft-petaled ivory rose caninas fighting for land with the stone brambles and butter-yellow honeysuckle. Within minutes of their arrival, Eliott moved a rusty looking bottle-green desk directly in front of this window, as though compelled from an outside force. The valley demands his undivided attention at a time where the sky is in a perpetual state of change, transitioning from colour to colour as though indiscriminately picking shades on a colour wheel; specks of fuchsia accidentally blending and bleeding into a rust-orange and a startling red, colours which never turn out quite so captivating on a phone camera. Dusk recalls the beauty of the day, unwinding time and caressing the flowers that dare to grow at higher altitudes. Eliott sits there on what once was a rather plush seat, but now torn down the middle so he can feel the wooden foundations beneath him. Admiring the landscape as he cracks open the spine of a new notebook he uncaps a black pen. It hovers there with possibility for a few minutes until Eliott sighs and recaps it resting his face in his hand staring out the white chipped window.

Footsteps echo above him, muffled voices and slamming doors. He tries to find some inspiration within these movements and sounds but all ideas elude him. It’s been like this for the past two months so when Basile mentioned his parents had a little place a channel away he thought it fateful, fortuitous; a change in scenery from the humid city, away from the lungfuls of pollution to the countryside, a different country; a different language and culture — the endless opportunities for observation. He thought nature would spark something, get the ideas storming, the pen flowing, but he’s an empty machine. No feelings he can scratch out on paper or phone despite being told by everyone he’s ever loved that he feels so much. That he is an endless vacuum of emotions. He even bought a stupid notebook when he’s used to writing down ideas on the notes app on his phone. Maybe an alternative medium would strike an unknown area of his brain filled to bursting with worlds unlike his own. But, he’s being hard on himself, they have only been here a day. He has time.

A knock at the door has him looking over his shoulder before glancing once more out the window.

“Hey.” is all he says.

The door creaks at the hinges as footsteps pad towards him. The tips of fingers against his back almost makes him sigh out loud. It’s not a purposeful touch, it’s the simple act of fingers curling round the frame of his chair accidentally grazing his t-shirt, eliciting painful butterflies in his stomach. Eliott has imagined that touch filled with intention and it’s all he can do not to slip his hand over Lucas’, brush his thumb over the skin and tilt his head back to gaze into those eyes. Eliott wraps his arms around his stomach instead, biting down on his bottom lip.

“Nice view.” Lucas comments.

Now this is someone Eliott could have written many a poetry collection about. Forty poems in verse regaling their childhood mischief. Lucas the leader in all their make-believe games from the moment they ate their last spoonful of cereal until the moon was in full bloom, their parents having to threaten their separation for the rest of the holidays if they didn’t climb down from Lucas’ treehouse. He could lament over Lucas’ hair darkening from a dirty blond to a chestnut brown during which first kisses were had, Eliott broke his elbow falling off a skateboard and Lucas was there, leading him aside and letting him cry — insisting that he didn’t think any less of Eliott whose cheeks were flushed and stained with tears, hands clenched into fists from embarrassment. He had cried numerous times in front of Lucas, but this time had an undercurrent to it, a vulnerability marked by the changing of tides and secrets of the night; seeing Lucas began to evoke new sensations he hadn’t felt since his first kiss — a nervousness that had his hands shaking and his stomach turning. Eliott Demaury could craft twenty-one sonnets about this boy’s hands and the journey of emotions he has encountered over the years since his realisation. Though something about it doesn’t feel right, using pen and paper to express these feelings. The sentiments morph, become corrupted and lose their potency. They become the words at the end of a sentence squished in, overlapping each other, and cut off at the end, no room for them. No place for them in his heart. He believes those words are for Lucas. Someday. And only spoken among them are they meant to touch the world.

Lucas’ fingers poke Eliott’s back as he speaks. “I think everyone’s about to eat; Yann’s cooked some spaghetti.”

Dropping his head back to rest on the chair he finally meets that gaze; dark blue eyes inquiring, strands of brown hair brushing a strong nose, and Eliott responds: “Mmm, sounds good.”

Lucas shakes his head in a well, are you coming? gesture and Eliott only nods.

They continue to look at each other, searching for what Eliott knows not, only that they could both do this for years. Oh, it’s not romantic, though the scene has all the players and the setting to forge a wondrous story of fate and destiny, no such eventuality could Eliott lay claim to when it comes to Lucas. Their staring contests are the makings of legends, they could stare for France at the Olympics. That was Lucas' idea when they were twelve, to enter the Guinness Book of World Records. If only Eliott could telepathically communicate his love through his stare, he would be saved from the mortifying ordeal of laying his soul bear for Lucas to potentially stamp on, to do with what he will. The odds were not in his favour.

The next moment Lucas is grabbing him by the wrists tugging him to his feet. “What were you doing?”

A loud sigh. “Trying to write.”

“Ah.” A voice filled with understanding and sympathy.

“Yes.”

“I have no words of encouragement. Knowing you you’ve watched a hundred videos on how to get inspiration so, for now, let’s just have some fun this weekend,” He mines the breaststroke. “If you manage to write something, if only a three word sentence then great. If you don’t well then I’ll have to reset your brain or something.”

“I guess.” He’s feeling a bit dispirited is all.

“It’s the only plan I’ve got so you can either take it or leave it.”

“I’ll take anything you give me.” It’s out before he can stop it and he has no time to freak the hell out or try and amend this faux pas because that’s when they are summoned.

“FOOD IS READY!” bellows a voice from deeper inside the house. Basile.

“Just in time.” Lucas smiles, dragging Eliott along behind him, like he doesn’t trust him to not sit at that desk, staring out the window for the foreseeable evening to come. Eliott is a dreamer after all, it can’t be helped.

All the knowing brings a small smile to Eliott’s lips, Lucas catches it and a laugh bubbles out of his throat his grip tightening on Eliott’s wrist. He wonders if that’s what love is. Knowing. For some people the learning process is what keeps them in love, and for the others who have already mapped out the insides of each other, know them as intimately as they do their own body. What about them? Is it in the relearning? Rediscovering the constellations of their mind, the breadth of their movement and the deepest, most darkest secrets at their core where the imaginary apple tree blooms from all the seeds they dared to swallow as kids.

“Idiot,” Lucas whispers.

“Yeah, you are.” Eliott quips right back.

Lucas shrugs his shoulders, grinning. “Eat your spaghetti, dumbass.”

Eliott acquiesces and brushes his fingers over Lucas’ skin, where they do nothing but slightly graze, just once.

-

The evening brings them around a crowded table covered in an ugly mauve table cloth, five empty glasses holding it in place, and Eliott feels like it’s all a bit biblical. A cornucopia of sorts with the big spaghetti dish in the centre, napkins laid under cutlery, and — yes, lit candle sticks holding court at either end, illuminating the richness of the tomato sauce and the plates precariously positioned near the edges of the table.

“ELIOTT!” Basile yells the instant Lucas and Eliott enter the kitchen slash dining space.

“He made fucking placement cards.” Arthur chortles, shoving one in Lucas’ face, who grabs at it laughing.

Basile looks indignant, his ears flushing pink. He begins shepherding Yann to begin serving their food, refusing to look at the other boys, and Eliott’s heart pangs in his chest even when he knows that Arthur is only taking the piss, he means nothing by it. He can’t but help feel empathy in any given situation, because he was cursed to feel every fucking emotion in the world. He wishes there was an off switch as quick and easy as turning of the light but for your emotions.

And right on cue, “Baz, I’m joking!” Arthur grabs the place card back from Lucas and when Basile doesn’t respond, he looks around at Yann and Lucas for support, like did I misstep that badly?

“I was joking, Baz. Basile. Baz! I’ll do your stupid laundry for the rest of this trip if you open your mouth.”

Baz glares at Arthur while opening his mouth into an o shape.

“What the fuck.” he falls to his knees at Baz’s feet and throws his hands over his heart in mock anguish.

“That’s only two days.”

Relief spreads over Arthur’s face. “You prick. And for the next five days when we’re back home.”

Baz smiles. “Okay.” Just before Arthur wraps his arm around Baz's neck, roughing up his head and causing Basile to shout his head off like an idiot.

Yann and Lucas exchange an amused look as they take their assigned seats at the table. Eliott slides into his seat, taking the proffered orange juice from Baz and sighing quietly as the cool liquid hits the back of his throat.

Beers are passed around, spaghetti is ladled into ceramic bowls and bellies are satiated. It only takes five minutes before the toasts begin — it’s a slight downgrade from Shakespeare, but Eliott isn’t the biggest fan of his works anyway. These monologues do not bore him to tears, they manage the feat of the opposite; a well of innocence and love and disaster (in the best way) — and Eliott can feel his stomach cramping from the laughter to come. Baz’s excitement is an energy source of its own, powering up each boy in turn and only encouraged more by the alcohol in their veins. He thanks them for coming, his curls bouncing as he hugs each of them and kisses their temples in turn, giving a special wink to Eliott. This prompts Lucas to raise his eyebrows and air kiss Eliott in jest; Yann clutches his heart and narrows his eyes at Lucas in betrayal. But the real jester is Eliott’s heart, making a mockery of him.

-

There is something about the sun glistening on the water, the sparkles of light suggesting an underworld, and the heat and the tender breeze which fosters an exuberant vitality among these boys. Jumping into the rushing water like the rocks within aren’t sharp as nails, as fierce and demanding as deities demanding human blood. Embracing the camaraderie that comes from being complete idiots and living to tell the tale. Defying the ancient gods. Eliott has noticed his regard for his own life has drastically lowered since his acquaintance with Lucas’ school friends; they are wild and high-spirited that when their energies are fused together you have never seen a more brazen display of the human idiocy. Eliott came to the conclusion upon their second meeting that they share a single brain cell between them, no more no less. Their presence demands he shed his insecurities and feelings of inadequacy, that he be instead audacious so sometimes he finds himself retreating and requiring a few moments by himself just so he can keep up, reset and recharge.

Watching the other four attempt to kayak down the river, watching Lucas rub a hand across his throat where a collection of moles stand out against his tan skin has Eliott feeling some type of way. A nostalgia clings to him, the echoes of childhood innocence — running around with paint-stained hands intertwined, breaking the last cookie in half because they couldn't bear the thought of not experiencing every delicious moment of life together with the one person who they could just be with. The one who made them want to be bold. A time before feelings were made complicated and repressive by adult sensibilities and expectations. It’s a nostalgia breeding a melancholy Eliott feels too young to be unraveled by, because he is so very lucky to even be known quite this intimately by a person; it gives rise to a loneliness he feels no right to. He has to look away from Lucas before he gasps out loud because it will be obvious then. And he doesn’t know what he’d do if he was found out, because that’s the scary thing. He already made a mistake yesterday. He cannot give up now. He’s been good so far. Acted the performance of his life. He’s an artist. A master of repression.

But now he is in danger, at the precipice of possibility, because the way Lucas has been looking at him when he thinks Eliott isn’t looking; the tilt of his head, the softening of his brow and that gentle smile without any mischief behind it is simultaneously tearing at Eliott’s heart but also the last image he would want to see before closing his eyes forever. He doesn’t know when exactly it happened but he lost control somewhere along the way; in between the little moments when he lets himself dream, giving the reins of control over to his hapless thoughts filled with impossibilities and infatuation. Beneath the sheets of his bed where he can exist as he is. A multitude of muscles and tissue, blood and bones sinking into the safety of the mattress as his mind is whisked away by a boy sprinkling him in fairy dust and offering him the chance to fly.

It’s catching up to him now, he can feel it rising. A tidal wave promising to consume him, reveal him. His skin is sticky from the sun, it feels too tight. His throat is aching, a sob threatens to betray him. He wants to scratch at his throat to relieve the pressure; he needs to scream until he can no longer produce sound. Until he is an empty vessel incapable of such visceral emotion. He wants to tear out his hair. This loneliness so rapidly evolving into a creature of frustration, of anger. How haven’t they noticed? How can’t they see this volatile species among them? Can’t they feel the very toxicity in the air?

Eliott hits the surface of the lake hard. The initial pain of impact, welcome — a moment of distraction as he is plunged deep into the open arms of the biting cold and opens his jaw to let loose this beast of rage. Furious with himself for being so completely selfish, for having allowed this self-pity to threaten a friendship he would sell his soul to save, to keep forever close to his chest. To that organ known to most animals and at the centre of some of the most tragic and romantic sonnets found in between must-smelling pages and on the rough skin of ageing humans. Though not all the words are without detrimental consequences, Eliott feels like a letter on the verge of changing the entire meaning of a sentence. The power in his hands to rewrite the narrative so he can finally have what he has been waiting for for years. But nothing is without consequences.

Sometimes Eliott thinks about how life is made up of doing things you don’t want to do with small moments of reprieve in and amongst the mess, the stress, finding the will to carry on. The reality is that he doesn’t want to tell Lucas. He really doesn’t. He has contented himself with admiring from afar. Until it gets to be too much. He would rather know him in this way, as a friend, till his last breath than compromise a relationship that has given him more than he deserves, more than he has ever been able to give back. A bond that sets his blood racing, his heart soaring and his body an ardent vivacity of courage and pure, uncorrupted joy. Like a river discovered on a blisteringly hot day, where your fingers have swollen up in the clutch of the silver rings you wear and you want to strip off every piece of clothing clinging to your sweaty skin and it’s that instant relief, that feeling that you could live in the water forever. Your hair soaked and plastered to your neck and the sun that was only seconds ago unforgivably hot is now a blissful pleasure against wet skin. Lucas is solace in a world that too often demands him to not be himself. To just be okay at its call.

Here’s a not quite secret: Lucas knows.

Floating to the surface, his back to the sun, Eliott folds his limbs inwards as the pressure for oxygen begins to sing in his veins. Calling him back to the present to face the world he has made. The first breath is purely human instinctual relief at the intake of a luscious breath of air. The second slows his heart down a fraction. The third is coincides with a minor skip of a heart beat as Elliott shoves wet hair from his watery eyes and sees lean muscled shoulders. Get the fuck together, Eliott. He pushes himself out of the water and it’s as though he wasn’t listening before, as though his thoughts blocked the functionality of his ears, because as soon as he leaves the water laughter pierces the air, cut short when Eliott flops down beside Yann.

Yann immediately reveals that Lucas has an idea, and Eliott’s groan is an automatic response, he throws an arm over his eyes, closing them against the sun.

“So Lucas was thinking—”

“—I was thinking we should race down that hill—”

“—You mean mountain.”

Lucas scoffs. “It’s hardly a mountain.”

“No thanks, I’m cool. You guys can though. I’ll chill here.”

Eliott’s bent knee collapses to the floor as Lucas kicks at his leg. “What?” he asks, annoyed.

“I’ll do it if you do it.”

“Ha, yeah right.”

“I promise. Eliott, I swear I’ll do it.”

“And where has trusting your word ever got me, Lallemant?”

Lucas rolls his eyes. “Pinky promise?”

Eliott laughs.

“Spit shake.”

That’s basically kissing is Eliott’s first thought. “No thanks.”

“You’re acting like you don’t trust me.”

“I literally do not trust you.”

At Lucas’ hurt expression Eliott feels more defensive than guilty like he normally would. He’s tired of this day. He wants to sleep for twelve hours straight.

“It’s a fucking mountain. I don’t want to die.” he gestures emphatically to the mountain. Arguably, the distance is not far but Eliott’s not the biggest fan of running at such a steep, vertical angle. Knowing him, he would twist his ankle and break an arm versus the rather athletic Lucas and Yann, co-captains of a baseball team. “I have a headache.” he adds, not looking at either boys’ face.

Closing his eyes once more and longing for the privacy of the river; the secrets beneath the rolling surface of the azure water, conversation becomes muffled as Eliott finds his stasis. Lolled by the constant rush of water, Eliott is ignorant to his environment, though not frightened when his vision turns from a burning blood-red to a muted orange. He blinks an eye open and Lucas is there, a slight furrow in his brow, his lips a firm line.

He whispers, “You okay? We’re gonna be over there.”

Eliott nods.

“Okay.” Lucas brushes one hand through the hair framing Eliott’s hair, his long, callused fingers moving carefully. He finishes with a pinch of Eliott’s chin and sprints away, Eliott assumes, after Yann.

What if he let it all go? What if he let himself look at Lucas and touch his hand? Could he do it without having to justify it to himself and the world?

-

Lucas’ bedroom sits two doors down from Eliott’s at the end of the hall. It has a white door with blue accents like every other door in this house and it’s slightly open. It’s a sign Eliott decides because he needs one to do this. He needs every last ounce of courage available to him because everything is about to change. Whether it is small or life-shaking, and he doesn’t have to do this. But he does.

One step. He watches his foot take the next and next and three more until he is two steps away from being seen. That is if Lucas is on his bed, but if he’s only the other side of the room, then Eliott has more time to second guess this endeavour. He doesn’t know which to wish for. He is one step away and no Lucas. A breath out, his stomach clenches. Okay.

Walking into the room with all the confidence he doesn’t possess, Eliott bounces onto Lucas’ bed  and leans up against the wall, and there the other boy is reading a book for school in a wooden rocking chair by a dusty looking mirror, half concealed by a brown throw. Meanwhile Eliott is being sucked in by the loveliest mattress his butt has ever had the pleasure to rest on. The duvet smells like Lucas.

“Fuck, this bed is so much bigger than mine.” he announces, shuffling down onto his back.

Lucas wiggles his eyebrows. “Lots of star fishing has happened there.”

“I bet.”

He has made it this far. Maybe with Lucas engrossed in his book it will be easier. The first part anyway, because he has no doubt Lucas will either try to avoid eye contact all together or shut the conversation down within seconds because he doesn’t like Eliott in that way.

“I like you.” Eliott clarifies. His throat tightening. He can’t believe he said it, he’s not known for being the most loquacious about his feelings. Despite being sensitive and greatly empathic, this does not extend to how he treats himself. Vocalising his turmoil is new and uncomfortable; he doesn’t feel like he can breath better, there’s not relief in it. He counts to ten and tilts his head up to examine Lucas who is staring intently at his book, his face a mirror of shock and fear. But Eliott’s not exactly sure if it is shock at his love or the act of the revelation itself.

Lucas clears his throat. “I don’t want things to change,” closing his book around his finger to hold his page, he licks his lips as his shoulders curl in slightly. Eliott is a hurricane, wrecking devastation and warning signs are blaring in his head to get out, get out, get out! “I do know that I like you.” And then all is quiet in his mind as he lowers his head back to the mattress. He doesn’t know what to do with his hands; folding them behind his head then across his stomach, the puzzle pieces not fitting. His stomach is clenched in preparation for a fall, for someone to jump out with a camera and say he’s been punked, for Lucas to bust out laughing and divulge his prank to the boys. He was expecting rejection so this is new and he can’t quite believe it. This isn’t going according to plan. Lucas isn’t supposed to say I like you. What the hell is happening.

Sitting up, Eliott can feel his face tightening and he’s confused as he gets to his feet, drifting towards Lucas’ bedroom door like a lone breeze. The light catches Lucas’ hair, lightening the tips to a golden brown and Eliott’s heart is in his throat, his jaw clenching he needs out of this space. He’s almost out the door but Lucas has somehow slipped in front of him, framed in the doorway and he fills the frustration building up.

“Hey.” Lucas’ voice is soft as he searches Eliott’s face, taking in his fists at his sides and the pronounced jaw line. He reaches up and rubs gentle circles just beneath Eliott’s ear; taking one of his fists in his own hands, he runs a callused finger over knuckles and under to where fingers are curled inwards. Lucas is not met with resistance because Eliott’s fingers unfurl and Lucas is slotting his own in between and Eliott is losing his breath, it’s been stolen, he can’t get it back and his eyes are near to welling up.

They drift towards the bed, Eliott floating, not registering any physical movements beyond their intertwined fingers, the soft pressure of Lucas grip on his own hand is a masterpiece. He is sitting down, in the middle of the bed and Lucas is sitting on his knees on top of the blankets, their hands hang in the space between them.

“How about this,” Lucas says, decisively, his gaze drifting from their hands. He shifts forward moving closer to Eliott, “We try. We don’t force anything. If it doesn’t feel right we stop, because I don’t want to lose you as a friend, Eliott. Fuck, that’s what terrifies me most. But I think we would both regret it if we didn’t try and I really fucking want to. Eliott?”

Right, he needs to speak. Say something. He shifts closer to Lucas, not quite believing what he’s hearing. Unlacing their hands he brushes his free hand through Lucas’ hair before pulling him in for a hug. Breathing in his scent which is tangy from the citrusy soap they’ve all been using, but the underlying cedar-wood, jasmine and toothpaste is there and it feels like safety. “You like me, too?” his voice is low.

Lucas’ laughter vibrates against his chest bringing a smile to Eliott’s lips, he pulls back and pecks Lucas’ forehead before returning his face to his neck and Lucas tightens his hold. And he swears he hears him say so much. Eliott knows he is in love, but this is enough for now. He would broach that later on. This he would trade for anything. The feel of Lucas in his arms, their chests pressed against each other, the feeling of Lucas’ plush lips against his neck and the warm feeling in his stomach. He is in elated shock and nothing can touch them, they have fallen into their pocket of space and time, they are safe.

“How are you this warm?” Eliott wonders aloud, pulling back from the hug, his eyes darting to Lucas’ lips. “Can I kiss you, Lallemant?”

Lucas reclaims the space between them, securing his ankles behind Eliott’s back, he quirks an eyebrow and presses his lips together. Eliott is bewitched by those lips. What secrets and answers do they hold? Are they as soft as they appear?

“Okay.”

And Lucas is leaning forward, his eyes flickering from Eliott’s eyes to his lips and back again, he brushes his nose up the side of Eliott’s and back down again. His eyes lock on Eliott’s blue fading into a lighter blue-grey. Eliott can’t help but brush the tips of their noses, then he slants his mouth upwards, tipping his chin and this is new, because whenever he imagined them kissing, him kissing Lucas, he was always leaning downwards because of their heights, but here Lucas is sitting in his lap with this lips hovering just millimetres above his own and it’s everything he has ever wanted. The second brush of their lips is lost completely to the thunderous sensations of the first and it’s vertigo from here on out.