#snowverylost

[caitybug]

"You see the good in everthing, thats why I like it when you look at me." prompt. 😪💖

Eek! Thanks so much for this prompt, my dear! I hope this is alright.

(Normal/High school AU. Don’t think about it too much, it probably won’t make much sense if you do LOL.)

You can read it here on ao3

Simon Snow is a mess.

A nightmare.

A complete travesty. 

And I can’t figure out why he keeps staring at me. 

(Not that I want it to stop- but it’s odd. He knows I’m here. We drove together.)

Is he checking on me?

��Mate, you all right?” 

I turn, almost tripping myself, to the voice speaking to me. 

Fucking leg.

“I’m fine, Niall,” I reply coolly, turning back around. 

When I look forward I can see the players clearly. I can also see a straight shot of Simon in my periphery, talking to Bunce and consistently looking my way. 

“How’s the ankle?” Niall asks.

I sigh.

“Still sprained, but doing better.”

The doctor said it would have been better if I had completely broken it. That it would have been easier to heal. 

(My aunt didn’t find it funny when I jokingly said I could break it myself if need be.)

I see Dev miss a pass and I grumble under my breath.

He’s too busy trying to show off. 

(It’ll cost us a lot more than a missed pass if he keeps it up.)

I feel Simon move next to me, and I try to fix my posture. 

He keeps looking at me.

(But I don’t want him to ever look away.)

When he looks at me I feel weightless. 

It used to make me want to throttle him. But now…

Now I never want him to look away.

Someone shouts for Niall and he leaves us be, not even saying goodbye. 

“They’re shit without you,” Simon says.

I groan.

“It’s pitiful. A team shouldn’t rely on one player so much.”

I turn around to look at Simon. He’s watching the field, brows furrowed.

“What is Gareth doing?” He asks.

I look.

Gareth is running towards our goal with the ball. His face is lit up with excitement. People are shouting.

I look away.

“Tell me when it’s over,” I mutter, squeezing my eyes shut. 

No amount of bracing myself could have prepared me for the loud groan from the audience around us. 

Simon lets out a low whistle. 

“We should go.”

He looks up at me, confused. “Why?”

“I can’t do this. It’s not like I can help them.” I gesture to the current brace on my leg. “We can get food- I’m sure you’re hungry.”

He gives a shrug and starts for the car.

His eyes still don’t leave me.

It makes me feel warm, the way he looks at me. 

It’s not a normal glance, I don’t think. It’s purposeful.

Meaningful.

I hear cheers from behind us and pray that they are for our team.

We get into the car and he glances over to me as he turns the key in the ignition. 

“Do I have something on my face, Snow?” I ask. 

He looks confused.

“No?” He responds.

“You keep looking at me.”

“You look really nice tonight, is all,” he says, buckling his seatbelt. 

My mouth opens, but nothing comes out.

(What the fuck am I supposed to say to that?)

“I’ll stop,” he says, shifting gears and reversing

A pause. 

“Staring, that is. I don’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable.”

“You’re not.”

I stare forward, realizing my mistake.

“I’m not?” He asks. 

He makes a right turn onto the road, and I’m trying to guess where he is going. 

Maccies would have been a left, so it’s not that. 

I clear my throat.

“No.”

He makes another turn as if he is driving home. He gives me a sideways glance, smiling at me. 

I feel heat rising to my cheeks.

“Do you like it when I look at you?”

I manage to glance at him, seeing the bright smile on his face that always manages to warm my heart.

“Yes.”

His smile grows, and I turn to take it in full. To let it wash over me.

He’s still watching the road, but the smile is still plastered wide on his face. 

We hit a light and he turns to look at me. 

The way he looks at me makes me feel unbreakable.

Untouchable by anything.

Simon Snow paints a clear view of his emotions on his face. And when he looks at me, I think I can find all the answers I’m looking for.

(If I let myself, at least.)

“Why?” He asks.

He places his hand on mine.

(It’s so warm.)

“When you look at me, it’s as if-” god am I really going to say it? “-I’m good too.”

His head cocks to the side.

“You see the good in everything,” I say, my hands flying in the air. “I don’t know how you do it. Even when things were-” 

Fuck, don’t go there.

“I just mean,” I say, softer this time. “You see the good in everything. So when you look at me I feel good too. It makes me feel like I could be one of those good things in your life.”

Simon stares at me a moment longer, leaning in slightly.

I wonder, for a moment, if he’s about to do what I think is crossing his mind.

A car honks behind us, and we both jump.

Simon shifts gears again and we pull through the intersection.

“You are good,” he says, continuing the conversation. “Better than most.”

I look down at my lap, smiling to myself, letting his words absorb into me. 

“And I like to look at you.”

I look back up, he makes another turn.

Is he taking me home?

We sit in silence for a couple minutes (an eternity, perhaps.) He misses the street where I live, and I still can’t figure out where he is taking us for food. 

“Where are we going, Snow?”

He shrugs.

“I was waiting for you to tell me,” he responds.

I roll my eyes.

“Pull over.”

He does. There’s a park next to us that’s empty. 

(It’s a bit creepy if I’m being honest. But it works.)

“Baz,” he says at the same time I say “Simon.”

We both freeze, waiting for the other.

I sigh.

“You first, Snow.”

He smiles, looking at me in that way again.

The way that makes my insides twist.

“I like you, Baz.”

My mouth goes dry.

Am I hallucinating?

“I like you a lot and-” he clears his throat. “I’d like to take you out if you’d let me.”

I remind myself to keep breathing.

(Imagine passing out in a dark car park outside of a playground after being asked out on a date. Pitiful.)

“You-” a breath. “Want to take me out? Like, on a date?”

He laughs softly.

“Yeah, something like that.”

I blink once, twice, trying to get my brain to compute.

I turn to face the dashboard, composing my features.

“Well then,” I say,” Get on with it.”

“Huh?” He asks.

“The date.” I fix my hair in the side mirror. “We’ve got a few hours before either of us needs to be home.” I turn to face him again. “Woo me, Simon Snow. Show me what it’s like to date you.”

He smiles again, realizing what I’m agreeing to.

“Alright, I can do that,” he responds. 

He turns the car back on, putting both hands on the steering wheel.

We sit for a moment.

“Snow-”

“I have no clue where we are.” He interrupts.

I laugh.

“If you make a right we’ll hit a street filled with restaurants.”

“Thanks,” he says, sighing with relief. 

He turns down the road, and we find a place to eat. 

A date with Simon Snow.

Dinner, talking, a kiss before he drops me off. 

I walk to the door, cursing my bad ankle, but smiling nonetheless. 

My cheeks hurt from it, but my soul feels full. 

I get a notification on my phone. A text from Simon. 

Could we do this again tomorrow?

A second date with him.

I close the door behind me and watch his lights go down the road. 

I send him a text. One word, but an answer.

Yes.

[annabellelux]

MY TEARS RICOCHET BOOK!!!

This fic has been my favorite project of mine, and @amywaterwings is intimately familiar with the blood, sweat, & tears I put into this project. And she, being an angel, decided to bind the book for me 😭 & with @snowverylost’s absolutely stunning art at that!!! Thank you my love 💛💖💛

(Read my tears ricochet here)

[heeytwelve]

Punktober 2020# Day 1# Ash

This is literally my first digital drawing ever. I have no skills, no style, so I just experimenting and trying to be chill about it (not happening). Also I’m sad. So here’s young Fi with ashes in Watford nursery. Why, Twelve, why. I want to say thank you to @cynopoe​, @vkelleyart​, @snowverylost​, @sharing-a-room-with-an-open-fire​ @miinkun​ and @krisrix​ - without their tips, advices and support, this would never happen.

p.s. added tw tags.

[carry-on-big-bang]

my tears ricochet 

Author: @annabellelux​

Artist: @snowverylost

Warnings: graphic depictions of violence, major character death (but not really)

Tags: Canon Divergence, final battle fic, The Veil, Necromancy, Dark Magic, Grief, Slow Burn, Humor used to mitigate the pain, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, You hear that? HAPPY ENDING I swear, throwing my boys into the darkest timeline, but even in the darkest timeline they are endgame, Fiona murdering fashion, truly unhinged levels of pining, grab a box of tissues, sources say this is like a car crash you can’t look away from

Summary:

The final battle has come to Watford, and it’s down to Simon and Baz. Simon thinks this war is his destiny—his only choice.

But when a heart-breaking decision throws his entire world off-kilter, Simon has to rethink everything.

And he has to do whatever it takes to fix his mistake.

Word count: 44K

Art: LINK HERE

[palimpsessed]

I still viscerally dislike this header. Rip.

Thank you for the tags @xivz @letraspal @dreamingkc and @bloodiedpixie loved what you all shared!!! 🥰🥰🥰

I don’t have much new content to show for myself. I have big plotty plans for when I’m recovering from surgery so I’m hoping I get at least one thing done, because I know me and my track record with the best laid plans...

I have already shared this a bunch on discord, but it’s all consuming rn, so it’s all I have to show.

Illustration for chapter 1 of A Man of Letters, lined but not erased yet:

I want to do art for every chapter, but at this rate, it will take forever and idk how I feel about that.

If I ever think of putting 12 people in one piece again, you have my permission to slap me upside the head.

Tagging anyone with WIPs to share and these lovely people: @adamarks @amywaterwings @angelsfalling16 @anika-222 @aristocratic-otter @arca9 @bahumdrum @banjjakbanjjak @bonappetart @caitybuglove23 @carryonsimoncarryonbaz @cynopoe @edenalix @effing-numpties @fight-surrender @findingniamho @flammable-grimm-pitch @foolofabookwyrm @gampyre @hufflepunky @im-gettingby @krisrix @ksan-art @laeve-leve @mageicalwishes @mar-mellata @twokisses @motherscarf @nick-eyre @nightimedreamersworld @otherworldsivelivedin @peachpit-gabe @phoxphyre @pipsqueakparker @scone-lover @seducing-a-vampire @snowverylost @snowybank @stardustasincocaine @stillmadaboutpetra @subparselkie @super-duper-twelve @theflyingpeach @thehoneyedhufflepuff @trenchcoat-moth @unseelieseelie @vkelleyart @waywardfangirl @wetheformidables @wunder-kin

[thehoneyedhufflepuff]

top 5 of 2020

thank you @super-duper-twelve for the tag!

rules: choose (and optionally comment) your favorite arts of 2020 by you.

it’s been a crap year BUT i think i’ve grown a lot in terms of my art! i’ve definitely drawn a whole heck of a lot. the following are all fairly recent...like inktober & on. (i think inktober is a lot of the reason i’ve grown tbh, which is cool since that’s what i wanted to happen by participating! anyway...)

1. Howl!Baz

i just finished this one last week & i’m in love with my own coloring & his bone structure & just the way the entire thing turned out. (i’ve been trying to figure out a good coloring style for my digital stuff all year, & i think i’ve finally got it!) anyway, he might just be my favorite.

2. illustration for chapter 1 of A Wicked Thing

this one just went out into the world on christmas! i’m proud of it because i usually avoid backgrounds like the plague. this one took me a good amount of hours & staring at my own front door, but i think it turned out pretty well! many thanks to @krisrix for help with the technicalities of clip studio as i screamed incoherently. 💜

3. BTL Snowbaz aka Dinomon

i’m just really obsessed with baz’s legs in this one LOL. anatomy is still a struggle a lot of the time, or at least drawing it in a consistent way? these particular legs are probs too long to be realistic but i like to think that suits him. also...idk. this one is just really Soft to me. i’m soft for btl them. we are shocked to hear it.

4. BTL first kiss

y’all ever posed for your own reference photo because i have 🤣 picture me in these positions on my living room floor.

anyway. this is one of my favorites from inktober. a few months out, i can see some wonky things...but overall i am still a fan. also drawing a BTL kiss was on my art bucket list & what better way to cross it off than by drawing the first?

5. BTL cover art (WIP)

will i finish this before the year is out? no idea. but the sketch is done, & i’m really happy with it. drawing faces from the front is something i struggle with a LOT (read: i avoid it & panic if i have to do it) & i’m really happy with how these turned out. i might need to make a few adjustments re: everyone’s relative size (baz looks little to me?) but other than that...almost ready to color!!!

bonus:

do i need to explain?

thanks again @super-duper-twelve for bringing this to tumblr! i will tag @krisrix @vkelleyart @snowverylost @f-ing-ruthless-baz @cynopoe @bonappetart @subparselkie @ebbilayart @parijpg @henreyettah @doublebraided @milliehilliearts @palimpsessed @nick-eyre @toonysart @letraspal @banjjakbanjjak & literally anyone who wants to play!!!

[banjjakbanjjak]

Thank you @super-duper-twelve for the tag!

These are the 5 favourite (ish) pieces of art I created in 2020. I’ve obviously drawn before, but in terms “proper” fanart for the Internet...Carry On is my first fandom. And that was in July...? If anyone cares to read a bit more about the above, go below the cut!

Tagging: @laeve-leve @krisrix @xivz @subparselkie @cynopoe @ninemagicks @nick-eyre @hufflepunky @peachpit-gabe @snowverylost @palimpsessed @dreamingkc 

And to widen the circle - writers. Share 5 favourite lines you have written in 2020! @otherworldsivelivedin @foolofabookwyrm @amywaterwings @amphipodgirl @nightimedreamersworld @carryonsimoncarryonbaz @caitybuglove23 @scone-lover

1. Carry On, Inquisitor Cover Art

This was my first piece of fanart for the fandom, a cover for my first fic as well. I loved writing that fic and doing art for it. I only had pen, paper and a scanner. How far we’ve come. But I love it because it marks the first and that even without tablets, programs etc. I can still make art, just a different style.

2. Carry On Countdown 2020 - Fluff

I hold this piece near and dear to my heart because the reference for this piece is my own wedding photos. This was very much a vanity piece and I can admit that. In this case, real life reasons made this piece one of my favourites. Also the artwork that did the best in terms of Internet Points so win-win really.

For anyone interested the venue (featuring the staircase) is the St. Pancras Renaissance Hotel.

3. Caught In The Act

A piece I did after reading @laeve-leve‘s fic about SnowBaz being walked in on. I had just joined Discord and found everyone so lovely, and being on furlough meant a lot of free time on my hands. I also just got Clip Studio so this was as much an experiment as it was an expression of a job well done to a friend.

4. Wayward Prince Cover (sans title)

My favourite fic cover of mine I’ve done. Designing the Faberge Egg was a chore, but it worked out as the perfect centre-piece. I was really proud with how this turned out, and I can see improvements in my own skills and creativity. 

5. Carry On Countdown 2020 - Technology aka Cyberpunk 2077 AU

This is my current flavour of the month so this was going to make it. It’s also the piece I decided to step away from my usual watercolour and markers brushes and go for a softer/flatter colouring style? Debating on result but I am damn proud of getting that car traced well and giving Simon and Baz the right “look”. That jacket was a nightmare. 

And also the only time drawing gave rise to an idea to a whole damn fic, rather than thinking of what art I could make for a fic.

[caitybug]

(Also sorry you are working on sads and feel blegh) maybe Rain is too "mundain" as far as prompts. 5? 7? 8? Any of those sound fun? 😂

5. Typed kisses.

7. Kisses after decades apart.

8. Kisses after dark.

Birdy, bc I love you, I’m going to try to do all of these haha.

(Shoutout to @adamarks​ for looking this over to make sure I wasn’t going insane.)

(1:35): Good morning! 

(1:35): Snow, it’s 1 in the morning. 

(1:36): Why are you messaging me?

(1:36): It’s 7:30 here.

(1:36): It’s still morning, though. So my original text stands. 

(1:37): Good morning, Snow. 

(1:37):😘 😘 

(1:38): XO. 

Day 2:

(10:03): Let me know how your appointment goes. 

(10:03): XO.

(10:04): My what?

(10:04): Your check-up.

(11:05): You forgot about it, didn’t you?

(11:10): I’m here, I don’t know what you’re talking about, Baz. 

(11:12): You’re an idiot, Snow.

(11:12): 😘 😘 love you.

(11:13): I love you too, XO. 

Day 3:

(15:03): Do you think the milk is still good?

(15:04): When did it go bad?

(15:05): It says it went bad a few days ago.

(15:06): But the date says best by…

(15:06): So it just means it isn’t at its BEST right?

(15:07): How does it smell?

(15:07): Not good.

(15:08): Then don’t drink it.

(15:09): What if I just don’t know how milk is supposed to smell? How often do I really smell milk?

(15:10): Snow, just get more milk. I think we can spare the money it costs.

(15:10): But I’ve already started cooking. 

(15:12): I’m just going to try anyway. 

(15:12): It’ll be cooked anyway, right?

(15:13): I want it known I believe this to be a bad idea. 

(15:14): You also said that subscribing to three different butter services was “unnecessary and excessive”

(15:15): I stand by that, Snow. 

(15:15): How can one person eat that much butter each month?

(15:16): I can’t believe you would doubt my abilities like this. 

(15:16): I thought we were in a loving and supportive relationship. 

(15:17): I love you and support your health.

(15:17): Which means cutting back on butter sometimes, darling.

(15:20): I’m going to use the milk. 

(15:22): I wish you the best.

(15:22): 😘 😘

(15:23): XO. 

Day 5:

(7:40): How is your stomach?

(7:45): Better.

(7:45): I told you to buy new milk. 

(7:47): I think there is a stomach bug going around.

(7:47): Probably that.

(7:49): Sure, Snow.

(7:49): That’s why you spent yesterday regurgitating the entire contents of your stomach.

(7:50): Yes, it is.

(7:52): Have a good day.

(7:52): I miss you.

(7:52): 😘 😘

(7:55): I miss you too.

(7:55): XO.

Day 8:

(20:46): The people above us are pounding it out again.

(20:47): Earplugs are in my bedside drawer.

(20:47): If you were here I’d just try to compete.

(20:48): You certainly would not.

(20:50): I bet we could beat them.

(20:52): Come on, Baz, I know you’ve got a competitive streak. Don’t let Richard and Shelly show us up.

(20:53): You’ve got two hands, Snow. I’m sure you could manage something.

(20:54): Oh? Good idea.

(20:54): Talk later.

(20:55): 😘 😘

(20:57): I regret so much about this conversation.

(20:57): XO.

Day 13:

(14:05): YOU COME BACK TOMORROW!

(14:07): Please stop yelling at me.

(14:07): But yes, I do. 

(14:08): 😊 😊 😊

(14:09): I love you.

(14:14): I love you too.

(14:15): Can we facetime?

(14:15): In a couple of hours, Snow.

(14:15): I’ve got one more meeting.

(14:16): 😔

(14:16): Alright.

(14:17): XO.

(14:18): 😘 😘

Day 14

I get through security. It’s always a painful even, especially in America. Have to practically strip just to stand in a machine that tells everyone what I’ve already known. 

No gun here the machine says with a green light and a beep.

As if I’d need one. 

It’s been delayed several hours for a reason I’ve yet to figure out. The weather looks clear, planes are moving in and out. People on other flights are still departing on time. 

The only reasonable explanation I’ve come up with is the airline is incompetent. 

“Snow,” I say, putting a finger in my right ear, trying to ignore the man screaming at the poor help desk person. “I may not be back until tomorrow.”

I look at the clock. Even if we left now I wouldn’t get home until midnight.

“What? Why?” He asks. His voice sounds frantic.

I hate worrying him.

“This airline work flew me through is set upon ruining my life,” I growl under my breath. 

The service representatives have been berated enough, they don’t need me coming after them as well. (Even if I want to.)

(Crowley do I want to.)

“Right now it doesn’t have us leaving for another two hours, so at earliest I won’t be home until 3 in the morning. With the trend of how this has been going, I won’t be surprised if it gets canceled altogether.”

He huffs.

“I miss you.”

It comes out as a whisper, any quieter, and I would have missed it.

It’s not that he’s ashamed of saying it. We’ve said it a lot over the past two weeks.

He’s sad. I am too. I was supposed to be home by dinner. We were going to order takeaway and watch a movie, kiss and makeup for lost time.

Ignore all responsibilities of the world around us for the evening. 

“I miss you too.” I face the large windows, looking at planes that aren’t mine leaving the runway. 

The blasted airport is under construction too. Everyone said to fly in and out of La Guardia because it is easier, but I’m wondering if I should have taken JFK. 

“I’ll be home as soon as I can.”

“You better. Preferably before I drink more spoiled milk.”

“Stay away from all dairy products until I return,” I chuckle into the phone. 

An announcement comes over the intercom.

“They’re announcing another delay, I’m sure,” I groan. “I’ll send you a text.”

“I love you,” he says from the other side.

“I love you too,” I respond, ending the call and slipping it into my pocket. 

(14:36): I hope you get home soon.

(14:36): Threaten to suck their blood, or something.

(14:36): I’m sure that would work.

(14:36): 😘 😘.

(14:37): You’re an idiot, Snow.

(14:37): XO.

Day 15, 4:16

I turn my key in the door, trying to quietly walk into the flat. My suitcase softly rolls against the wood behind me as I pull it in, letting it sit next to the door.

Unpacking can happen after I get at least fourteen hours of sleep. 

I place a brown paper sack of scones on the kitchen table.

I couldn’t resist. The shop next to us had just opened, and I knew it would make him smile. 

I continue down the hallway, stopping only to take a piss.

In our room, still blanketed in darkness apart from the street lights coming from the road beside us, Simon softly snores. 

He still sleeps on his side of the bed while I’m away. It makes my heart feel softer than I’d like to admit. 

One hand rests next to his head, his wings spread out across the bed.

I change clothes, relieving myself of all the feelings of travel before softly lifting a wing to get under the blanket and allow him to cover me again.

I don’t have long to process the fact that I’m with him again before I feel something wrap around my calf. 

I pause for a moment before I remember.

The tail.

He is, for all I can tell, still asleep. Meaning it’s recognized I’m here and is saying hello in its own way.

I rub it softly with my other foot.

It dislikes not getting attention, you see.

Simon’s mouth is open as he breathes deeply. I think his pillow is a little wet.

I’d call it disgusting (it is, truly), but I missed him so much that I can’t help but smile.

I risk moving closer and kiss his cheek softly, trying not to wake him up.

I know he hasn’t slept well without me.

(I haven’t either, without him.)

Side effect of sleeping for so many years in that tower. We both got dreadfully used to hearing the other breathe, the way we each navigated and slept.

At this point, I think even his snoring lulls me to sleep.

(I still complain about it, however.)

An arm wraps behind my back and pulls me close.

He takes a deep breath, and when I pull back I see one eye open.

“Hey there,” he says, voice hoarse with sleep. 

“Your breath smells.” I lean in, kissing his forehead. 

“Well your hair is greasy,” he replies, pulling me into a kiss, his hand moving to my hair. 

“You don’t seem to mind it.”

He hums in response.

I pull him tighter. I need to feel this. Everything. 

His lips.

His hands.

His chest against mine.

“And you don’t seem to mind the morning breath,” he states, smiling at me as we break for a moment.

I open my mouth to retort but he puts a finger to my lips, shushing me.

“No talking, only kissing,” he whispers. “I’ve not kissed my fiancé in decades.”

He leans in but I pull back for a moment.

“It’s been two weeks, Snow.”

“Decades,” he states matter of factly. “Each day was like five years passed. It’s been 70 years. I’ve gone grey and wrinkly, waiting for you to return.”

I laugh, being shut up briefly by another round of kisses.

I should sleep.

But this is so much better than sleeping. 

I feel something wet hit my cheek.

Backing up, worried there is a leak from the ceiling, I realize why. 

It’s Simon.

“Love,” I say.

What’s wrong?

“It’s fine; it’s fine,” he says, wiping a stray tear from his cheek. “I’m just tired, and I missed you.”

Another tear drops from one of his eyes, and I brush it away with my thumb.

I open my mouth to say a response, to comfort, but I feel a stinging in my own eyes.

(My eyes have been open for too long, you see. Couldn’t sleep on the plane. I’ve been up far too long to be able to control any tears that fall.)

I lean in to kiss him again.

We kiss, and kiss, and keep kissing. Hands roam, trying to remind our brains of what it feels like to have each other again. 

It was dark when we started, but soon an orange haze comes over the room as the sun rises.

The tears start, stop, start again.

Laughter rings out a few times.

“You did WHAT to our oven??” I shout at one point. 

He lays now with his head on my chest. My eyes are closed, fingers scratching his head lightly.

His hand is softly rubbing my stomach.

“Wait,” Simon says, jumping up and looking at me.

I blink a few times, trying to fight off the sleep that was about to overcome me.

“Did you get?” He asks, question incomplete.

I search his eyes for a moment, frowning, trying to comprehend before I realize what he is saying.

“Yes, they are on the table,” I laugh softly.

He jumps up and starts to go to the door. 

He pauses, looking back at me, clearly wracking his brain with a question. 

“We can eat them in bed,” I say, knowing where his mind is trying to go. 

He smiles and continues his run to the kitchen.

I look out the window and see the sun hit the windows of nearby buildings.

It’s good to be home.

[amphipodgirl]

Thank you to @angelsfalling16 for tagging me! I’m still working on my Docile fic, but getting close to done -- I broke 30k words yesterday, and there are two more chapters to write, plus editing. 

I want to get some lube and I have no idea what kind to get or even where to get it so I call Onyx and ask for advice. He says, “You know, Alex is used to the good stuff and it’s insanely pricey. Why don’t you stop by and I’ll give you a bottle of what Dutch and I use?”

“What? I mean sure, yes, thanks, but since when do you give a damn about Alex Bishop’s sexual satisfaction? You think he’s a rich asshole.”

He answers, “Since I realized that he actually does care about you,” and I have nothing to say.

I tag @anika-222 @amywaterwings @belalugosiisdead @captain-aralias @waywardfangirl @super-duper-twelve @sharkmartini @snowverylost @xivz @moonlightalchemy @prettylightsbigcity @scone-lover and @ladymac111-draws​ @omgcmere​ and anyone with something in progress they’d like to give us a peek of. No project? No problem.

If you haven’t read Docile, I highly recommend it (if it’s something you’ll be able to enjoy -- it has serious non-con and some other content warnings). Here’s my review of it from Goodreads: 

This book blew my mind. It's a complex, layered examination of capitalism, compulsion, conditioning, consent, and connection. It depicts a near-future world in which debt becomes heritable and people burdened with familial debt, including student loans from previous generations, need to choose between debtor's prison and indentured servitude. If they elect servitude -- which often includes sexual service, especially if the servant, called a Docile, is young and attractive -- they have the option of taking Dociline, a drug which makes them happily compliant and causes them to forget their servitude. We follow a particular young Docile, who rejects Dociline, and the trillionaire who buys his contract. The connection changes them both in ways neither could foresee. I found this powerful and thought-provoking (and, yeah, occasionally sexy). It's definitely going to stay with me and I'm going to be thinking about it a lot and surely rereading it. I recommend it *if* you can read it with appreciation and personal safety. Take the content warnings seriously and take care of yourself. Consider whether reading the book will be painful for you and also whether you will be able to encounter its powerful ideas without being put off by the (content warnings under the cut)

rape, abuse, and suicide attempt and suicidal ideation.

[heeytwelve]

I like this flashmob on insta, so I post it here too :)

Rules: choose (and optionally comment) your fav arts of 2020 by you.

You don’t have to, but I tag: @theflyingpeach @doublebraided @parijpg @satise @laeve-leve @cynopoe @ninemagicks @wunder-kin @krisrix @tea-stained-soul @thehoneyedhufflepuff @miinkun @weremagnus @dancingwdinosaurs @vkelleyart @snowverylost @banjjakbanjjak @blvnk-art @awanqi @mara-miranda @peachpit-gabe @gibbarts

I’ve started to draw in October 2020, so I don’t have many or something really impressive. But nevertheless I love them all and want to have this post for history :)

[annabellelux]

WIP Wednesday

Thanks for the tag: @nick-eyre @ninemagicks @thehoneyedhufflepuff @xivz @caitybuglove23 @fight-surrender

Tomorrow, I will have my last final, and then I just have one more paper, and then I am free to spend a month writing fanfic!!! I am so excited. Here’s a snippet from my tears ricochet (which somehow is 5.5K despite my promise to myself not to start until winter break. oh, well.)

Simon

My orders couldn't have been any clearer. The Mage has given me permission to be jury, judge, and executioner. And Fiona Pitch is guilty of treason.

Do it, I tell myself. Think of it like slaying a dark creature.

Nausea creeps into my throat, threatening to spill sickness past my lips.

Do it, and don't think at all.

I'm about to force myself to plunge the sword downward through Fiona Pitch's chest. I'm about to make the Mage proud.

Tagging: @scone-lover @amywaterwings @bazzybelle @flammable-pitch @palimpsessed @snowverylost @krisrix @otherworldsivelivedin @arca9 @sharkmartini @cynopoe & anyone who feels like ending their Wednesday by sending me WIPs 

[palimpsessed]

Going to kick things off early (for me) today!

I have been putting in about 1k a day this week on COBB because I have a goal to hit by the end of April 😂 but hey, it’s motivating. Also thanks to the discord britpickers for entertaining my pressing questions about cracker shapes 🙏

I also have *gasp* art to share! I feel like it’s been an age. Still on tracing paper in the layout stage but lots of perspective detail that’s been an adventure. Should be ready for faces and hair and good paper soon!

Here’s a tease from COBB, just Baz being Baz:

Snow's standing with his back to us, just slightly turned toward the side, so that I can admire the way the perfect afternoon sun hits on his toffee hair and tawny skin and makes him look like he's glowing from the inside. (I think he may actually be glowing. It would be just like Snow; he's radiant.)

And a peek at my art for Chapter 2 of A Man of Letters featuring frowny face Baz who is not much pleased with his popped seams and ruined collar. Who could have been responsible for that? 🧐

Going to tag a bunch and then tumblr will revolt. Also if anyone doesn’t want me to tag them on wips and things, lemme know. 😉 These are completely no pressure!! ❤️@adamarks @amphipodgirl @amywaterwings @anika-222 @annabellelux @aristocratic-otter @arca9 @bahumdrum @banjjakbanjjak @bazzybelle @bloodiedpixie @bonappetart @caitybuglove23 @captain-aralias @carryonsimoncarryonbaz @cynopoe @dreamingkc @edenalix @effing-numpties @fight-surrender @findingniamho @flammable-grimm-pitch @foolofabookwyrm @gampyre @hufflepunky @im-gettingby @krisrix @ksan-art @laeve-leve @letraspal @mae-berry @mageicalwishes @twokisses @motherscarf @nick-eyre @ninemagicks @nightimedreamersworld @otherworldsivelivedin @peachpit-gabe @phoxphyre @pipsqueakparker @scone-lover @seducing-a-vampire @shemakesmeforget @snowverylost @snowybank @stillmadaboutpetra @stardustasincocaine @subparselkie @super-duper-twelve @theflyingpeach @thehoneyedhufflepuff @trenchcoat-moth @unseelieseelie @vampire-named-gampire @vkelleyart @waywardfangirl @wetheformidables @wunder-kin @xivz

[excalisbury]

SIX SENTENCE SUNDAY

I don’t usually do six sentence Sunday because I don’t usually write, but a strange urge to write a sports fic overtook me this weekend. (Also... for unknown reasons, it came out in play format...)

Thank you for tagging me, @xivz, despite the fact that I don’t think I’ve ever been able to respond to one of your sss tags before 🧡 and thank you to everyone who always tags me in these even when I rarely respond.

Dev and Niall run a FPL League and Baz comes over to watch the Saturday EPL games. If I finish fast enough, it’ll be based on this weekend’s actual EPL games.

I will tag @foolofabookwyrm @bazzybelle @waywardfangirl @caitybuglove23 @amywaterwings @tea-stained-soul @simonsnowsfreckles @peachpit-gabe @theflyingpeach @motherscarf @palimpsessed @snowverylost @banjjakbanjjak (also ty and tagging to @krisrix and @ninemagicks for encouraging me with this specific idea🧡) also tho I love seeing wips so pls tag me if you see this and post one!!!!

[thehoneyedhufflepuff]

thanks for the tag @xivz !!!

here are my last two WIPs for the year (one fic & one art) 🥰

here’s something for chapter 2 of a wicked thing (nsfw):

BAZ

& my last art WIP:

writing is slow going but hoping to crank some out over the long weekend 👀 & who knows when i’ll finish this art lol

tagging @amywaterwings 👀 @krisrix @anika-222 @ninemagicks @scone-lover @pipsqueakparker @caitybuglove23 @twokisses @annabellelux @otherworldsivelivedin @subparselkie @snowverylost @sharkmartini @foolofabookwyrm @amphipodgirl @carryonsimoncarryonbaz @vkelleyart @fight-surrender @theflyingpeach @captain-aralias @cynopoe & anyone who sees this & wants to play! say i tagged you! 💜

[wetheformidables]

top 5 WIPs from 2020

Thank you so much for tagging me @phoxphyre, @caitybuglove23 and @foolofabookwyrm! 

So...I have ✨ yet ✨to make my fic debut in the fandom, but I have been working feverishly in the last weeks to change that!  Being part of such a kind, loving and supportive community has been all the inspiration and encouragement I could ask for 🥰

Couldn’t resist posting because 1) I’m a little tease and 2) I need you all to bully me into finishing these p l e a s e , so here are lines just kidding these are more than lines from five of the WIPs I’m most excited about, among countless others, god, truly a disgusting number of ideas languishing together in a google doc. Writing these odd bits and ends and shaping them into proper drafts has made me feel diabolical all this month and so here’s to seeing them properly out in the world in 2021! 😇

the how-the-turns-have-tabled-Simon-is-plotting fic

“Bunce,” he says, and as much as I hate to indulge Simon in anything regarding Basilton Pitch, I must admit he does have that classic vampire look.  Only, now it’s less Dracula and more Nosferatu with those bags under his eyes and a pinched sort of look that reminds me of the shriveled rat Simon once showed me. (He put it in a sandwich bag and waved it about shouting, “Evidence!”)(We were banned from the library for a week.)  

I feel a sudden stab of pity for Basil.  

“I don’t know what Snow is about,” he says, “but you need to help me put an end to his plotting.” I would laugh at the way he stage whispers plotting if I didn’t know what Simon has planned. 

the soft oh-my-god-there-was-no-truce-and-we-meet-again-after-watford fic

It’s a startling realization to find that for all my not-thinking, I have thought of his skin against mine, that this want was somewhere tender and sleeping, because my whole body is awake with it now, thrumming and prickling, the closest thing I’ve felt to magic since losing mine. I can almost smell it, and I wonder how long I have imagined that magic smells like cedar and bergamot.

the mordelia-is-a-menace-and-says-entirely-too-much fic 

The twins are too young to reveal any of Baz’s embarrassing secrets, and the baby only stares sluggishly at me, which is probably why when Mordelia asks if the Chosen One can sit by her at dinner, I look hopefully at Mrs. Grimm and try not to meet Baz’s eyes.

the final-battle-enemies-with-benefits fic 😈

He has never been this eloquent in his life. Aleister Crowley, this is how it ends. With Snow speaking words without magic, that carry an incantation that will set me alight all the same. I want to blame the unsteadiness I feel on the excursion of the fight, yet another fight. There is always another fight. The last night we spent in Mummers House was something like fighting too, but closer perhaps to what we have been spoiling for since we were fifteen.  

I have dreamt of that darkness, that heat, that room these five years, have dreamt of his hands on me, have dreamt of everything he is daring to put into words here and now. When he speaks again, I think I might have been wrong about there being no magic in the words, because I’m rooted to the spot. 

the little-wraith-that-wasn’t fic 

or the real wraiths were the friendships we made along the way

The whole village calls me Stew, because my mum always used to say I was thicker than stew. Which explains how I have gotten myself into this caper, creeping along the back gardens of the Pitch estate—which everybody knows is haunted—and climbing a trellis. I don’t know why I still hang out with the lads who dared me to do it. They know I’m afraid of heights. 

“Don’t look down,” I tell myself, finding a foothold in the wooden lattice.  

God, we’re down to the wire and I imagine everyone has beat me to tagging you for your Top 5s, so consider this not so much a summons if they have, but rather a thank you for making me feel so welcome in the server and this little corner of tumblr 💕 but also because I think you are rad, here’s to another year of chaos! @snowverylost, @otherworldsivelivedin, @snowybank, @unseelieseelie, @banjjakbanjjak, @amphipodgirl, @annabellelux, @nick-eyre (hi 🥺) and honestly everybody damn, you are all so cool, thank you for being you 🥰

[caitybug]

KiSseS iN tHe RAin😭🥺💖💖💖

Kisses in the Rain!!

(Tagging @ninemagicks too bc she asked for this. Beanz, I’m still doing your prompt but I have a twist I think I’m gonna do pls let me know if that’s alright.)

Baz, Penny, and I are sitting in the living room watching a movie.  

It has to do something with Cinderella. She said it is called A Cinderella Story, but I’ve yet to hear anything about princesses. Just a girl who works at a diner trying to get into Princeton. 

Baz and I are on the sofa, watching as the main character (Sam) is at her high school football game. 

“Do you think this is what American high school is like?” I whisper up to Baz. 

It’s been fairly dramatic. There was a big scene just moments previous where Sam had walked to the quarterback (love interest) and told him off.

“Waiting for you is like waiting for rain in this drought; useless and disappointing,” she told him.

I couldn’t imagine walking into a dressing room like that. Let alone to tell someone off.

(Although, I’m sure I would have followed Baz into his if I felt it necessary. Almost did once fifth year. Penny grabbed me by my collar and pulled me back.)

Penny turns and shushes us.

Baz frowns at her and then leans down to whisper in my ear.

“I wouldn’t know, I was too busy defending dragons from the local atomic bomb.”

He laughs, but I pinch his thigh. 

After a moment of teasing, Penny tells us to pay attention. 

The quarterback (why do Americans call this football? I’ve watched. It’s mainly played with your hands.) passes his helmet off to another player, seemingly giving up the whole match. It’s the final play (whatever that is) before the game is over, so everyone is up in arms. He doesn’t seem to be, however. The quarterback (I know they’ve said his name, I truly cannot remember what it is though.) looks more sure than I have seen him the entire movie. He pushes past various people and up to the girl (Sam.) 

A rumble of thunder distracts me for a moment.

But when I turn back I see them kissing. 

A drop of rain hits his cheek. 

“Look, the drought has ended!” Penny says, turning to us. 

We both hold a thumbs up in response. 

Kissing in the rain seems to be a common theme in these movies. 

There’s a swell of music, a declaration, a kiss. 

I look at the window, the way rain is hitting it, and think of an idea.

Baz and I haven’t kissed in the rain before.

And I think…

I think I have a declaration I could make. 

I go through the list in my head, seeing if this is something we’ve done before.

Surrounded by flames. There were bits of ash and smoke, but no rain. 

In this flat. (Many times, more than I could count. The closest I could say we came was the time when he kissed me while I was doing the dishes. I splashed a bit in his face and he dumped a handful on mine.)

In America. It was fairly dry then, however (surprisingly.) (I wonder if it rains much in America. It seemed like we only had sun and desert.) 

There are more, of course. But, none in the rain. 

The movie fades into credits and Penny yawns, declaring it to be bedtime. 

I look up to Baz.

“I have an idea,” I say, jumping off the couch. 

My wing almost clips Penny in the face.

“Sorry, Pen,” I say, making sure she is alright.

“It’s alright, just don’t do anything stupid.”

She looks straight at me knowingly before walking off. 

“Spell my wings hidden,” I demand when she turns the corner.

“What? Why?” Baz asks, standing up.

“Well, my plan involves us going out those doors, so either you spell them or you’ll be the one explaining to people how a half-dragon, half-boy seems to exist.”

He crosses his arms across his chest, before deciding to give in. 

“Fine, but please make it quick, I’ve got plans of my own,” he states, quickly after muttering a Nothing to See Here. 

I blush for a moment, but then the groan escapes without my meaning it to.

“Baz, you know I hate that spell.”

I grab my trainers, not bothering to put on socks. 

This won’t take long.

(I hope.)

When we have shoes on I grab Baz’s arm and pull him through the door and down the stairs. 

“Are you going to tell me exactly why we are doing this, Snow?”

“You’ll see,” I say, pulling him closer.

We reach the bottom steps and I open the door. 

“Snow, I haven’t got an umbrella,” he says, looking at the rain outside. 

“That’s okay, we don’t need one,” I tell him, taking a step out the door. 

I expect him to follow, but I see him still loitering in the doorway, looking hesitantly at the rain pouring outside. 

“Are you daft? Simon, it’s pouring.” 

It is. I can’t deny it. But that makes it better, right?

My hair is already sicking to my face from getting drenched.

But I don’t care.

Come on Baz.

Do this with me.

“I know but, that’s what always happens in the romantic movies, right?” 

I could swim in the amount of water currently occupying my shoes. 

He frowns again, so I take a step closer to the door and reach out my hand.

“I promise we can take a shower after,” I say quietly. 

“Snow, it’s cold,” he says in reply.

His features are softening. I’m close.

“I’m warm though, I’ll make sure you don’t freeze.”

A moment passes.

My shirt is sticking to my chest.

He sighs and puts his hand in mine, wincing as I guide him outside.

“Only one kiss, Snow,” he says begrudgingly. “Then it’s a steamy shower and a hot cup of tea.”

I nod, pulling him closer, pushing my feet up slightly from the ground.

(Baz tells me not to do this, that it ruins my shoes. Says he can lean down to kiss me instead, but I don’t mind. It’s quite nice.)

I lean in and kiss him softly at first. Water falls from his forehead to my nose.

His lips are cold, but they always are. 

I can warm you back up, Baz. 

He pulls my hips closer, deepening the kiss. My hands move into his hair.

It’s wet but still soft. 

I think about the time we kissed in the forest. Flames surrounding us. I could feel the heat on my cheeks as it inches closer. I felt fearful. Not for me, but for Baz. 

This is different though.

It’s a silly idea on a rainy Wednesday night. We’ve both got work in the morning. But we are young, in love (I pause for a moment to remind him. He smiles and replies back, kissing the tip of my nose before going back to my lips.), and we are happy.

It has to be several minutes that pass as we kiss. The only light nearby comes through the window of the front door to the building.

I hear a car drive slowly by, its tires kicking up a little water as it moves. 

Music softly pours in from an open window from the building across the road.

(I know I’ve no room to talk, but who leaves a window open when it’s raining like this?)

Then I remember.

A declaration.

A question, in this case. 

It’s the sound of thunder that knocks us both apart again.

I look at Baz. He has swollen lips, pink-tinged cheeks, and a lovestruck smile.

I knew this would be a great idea.

“Now come on with you,” he says, taking a step near the door, “we need to get back inside before you get sick.”

“Wait, one more thing,” I say, stopping him. 

He looks like he’d rather not spend another waking second out in the rain, but he does. 

For me.

“Move in with me,” I say.

Better to just get on with it, right?

He freezes, looking me up and down.

“Please.” I finish. As if he were waiting for me to use my manners.

What’s the magic word, Snow? He’d ask with a cheeky grin on his face. 

He steps forward and kisses me.

We stay like that for a moment before I begrudgingly pull away.

“Is that a yes?” I ask, hopefully. 

“Yes,” he responds. “Maybe we could get our own. I'm sure Penny would prefer not to have the two of us living with her.”

I smile, nodding in agreement.

Somehow he took my idea and made it better.

(He always does.)

He takes a step towards the door again, guiding me inside. 

I follow him willingly.

(I always will.)

“Wait, Baz, you’re a mage,” I state as we go up the stairs, dripping water on the wood steps.

“Good of you to notice,” he replies back, turning the doorknob to get into the flat. “What will you say next? That I am incredibly handsome?”

He’s smirking as he holds the door open for us. 

“You could just spell us dry,” I point out, trying to take off my wet shoes. 

“And deprive you of suffering through a plan of mine?”

I look up, confused.

“When you figure out your laces, I’ll see you in the shower, Snow,” he says, placing his shoes near the door, walking to the bathroom.

I pause, open-mouthed, watching as he walks away.

He’s completely soaked and…

Well, I’m not mad about what that’s done to his trousers. 

The door closes behind him and I get to work, quickly taking my shoes off, running (stumbling if we are being truthful) to follow.