A YouTuber AU SnowBaz fanfic for the Carry On Countdown
Simon Snow’s first YouTube video is one of my
favourites. It’s as painfully awkward as
any other YouTuber’s first video. He
sits up too straight in his chair, he smiles and laughs too mechanically, and
the film quality itself is poor, with half of his words lost to shoddy editing.
Yet despite all this, it’s adorable.
of course, it’s the origin of the biggest OTP on YouTube, SnowBaz.
guys,” Simon waves at the camera, his hand going all pixelated at the
movement. “Welcome to the first video on
my channel!” He’s inserted a sound
effect of people cheering. I have to
laugh. It’s so damn cringe-worthy.
goes on for a few moments, trying to make jokes and jump-cuts that work, when finally,
it’s everyone’s favourite part.
are you doing, Snow?” comes a voice from off-camera. My heart turns to mush.
new flatmate, or at least he was new at this point.
my first YouTube video,” Simon grins up at someone behind the camera. “Come say hi!”
the censor sounds old, like it was stolen from the year 2007.
looks a bit panicked, like he’s realizing that he’ll have to edit out the swear
word. A door slams somewhere out of the
my new flatmate,” he tells us. “His name
is Baz. He’s kind of a prat.”
you wait,” I whisper at my computer screen.
“Just you wait.”
and Baz do not get along. At all.
much is clear from the first video, but it become increasingly obvious as Simon
posts more frequently. He often films in
the living room, which drives Baz insane.
don’t you film in your own room?” he says, audibly annoyed.
lighting in there is terrible,” Simon protests.
I’d like to be able to walk around my own flat, if you don’t mind.”
ahead, no one’s stopping you,” Simon shrugs.
“Besides, the viewers keep saying they want to see you.”
old Baz. Sarcastic and full of
himself. They don’t appear to realize
it, but the two of them balance each other out perfectly.
by little, Baz begins to make his mark on Simon’s channel. At first we only hear him from off-screen,
offering his two bits about nearly everything Simon has to say. Many of his comments are admittedly quite
mean and uncalled for, but Simon never edits them out. Baz is the invisible heckler. Viewers begin to latch onto this weird relationship
of apparent hatred and, as YouTube viewers are wont to do, turn it into a new
ship. “SnowBaz” they call it, and before
long the comment sections on all of Simon’s videos are full of things like “I
ship it” and “OTP”.
not to fall victim to this shipping trend myself. It feels insensitive to me, shipping real
live people that I’ve never even met like they’re objects of sorts. But even I can’t deny that the two of them
would be cute together. Provided they
stop hating each other.
Baz appears onscreen for the first time.
on the couch in the background, facing away from the camera. All we can see is long black hair. He only moves when he’s shouting ridicule at
Simon’s words. Once he turns his head
further to make himself heard, and we catch a glimpse of the light brown skin
of his face. This time the comments are
all “is that Baz?” and “OMG BAZ”.
that he starts to appear more often.
Sometimes he’s facing the screen, looking down at his phone or a
book. He’s tall, and his hair reaches
his shoulders. The expression on his
face goes between concentration and a sneer, that latter of which he reserves
for his heckling. It doesn’t take long
for people to start commenting on how attractive he is. Still Simon leaves all the footage of Baz in
his videos, not hiding a single rude comment from his viewers.
Simon tries to get Baz to join him for a “meet my flatmate” video. Baz responds simply by flipping Simon off in
the background, which Simon has to pixel out.
He’s gotten better at editing at this point.
Simon posts daily vlogs on days when he does things that he considers
exciting. The things that Simon finds
exciting are too cute for words. They
tend to be little events like going to a coffee shop, things that are almost
mundane but for some reason they excite him.
He does this thing where he dances when he’s excited. He’ll bob his head cheerfully as he walks,
glad to just be out. He’s gone to the
grocery store with Baz a few times in his vlogs. Those videos are some of the best ones. They bicker about everything from which kind
of milk to get to who gets to carry the baskets. Sometimes we can see Baz’s mouth quirk like
he’s trying not to laugh, like all this bickering is just a game for him. Of course, this sends the SnowBaz shippers
into a frenzy, the idea that maybe, just maybe, Baz doesn’t hate Simon as much
as he lets on.
there’s one video on Simon’s channel that is the absolute bread of life for
anyone who ships the two of them. Simon
is doing a Q&A, and as usual Baz is sitting and reading in the background.
question is from Twitter,” Simon says, reading off of his phone. “They ask ‘Are you in love with anyone right
if you look closely, you can see Baz go rigid.
Simon leans in close to the camera, “I have been messaging with someone quite a
lot. I don’t know who the person is, but
we’ve gotten really close and I’m starting to think -”
you keep it down, Snow,” Baz pipes up, his voice tight. “I’m trying to read over here.”
doesn’t speak of it any further, but Baz sneaks glances at the back of Simon’s
head more than once before the video is over.
I don’t know how Simon could have not noticed it. Certainly every single one of his viewers
did, which is to say over a million people.
Perhaps love is completely daft.
I arrive home from work on a particularly rainy day in October, I am delighted
to open my computer and find that Simon is in the middle of a livestream. Comments flow constantly from the sidebar and
I settle in to join the party. He’s in a
different room this time, one with a neatly made bed on which he sits, and I
gather that it’s his room. It looks so
clean, but I wonder if there’s a disaster hiding behind the camera.
leans towards us like he’s trying to read all of the comments and questions as
they flood in. He gets a lot of I love you’s and he grins in response,
trying to return as many of them as possible.
got to go soon,” he tells us and I sigh in disappointment, “but I’ll answer a
few more questions first.” He’s quiet
for a minute as all the viewers catch up with the stream. “Here’s one: ‘Did you find out who was
messaging you so much?’” He pauses
before answering. “Funny you should ask,
because yes, I did, and that’s a perfect segway into what I wanted to talk
about.” He shifts on his bed. “I have a bit of an announcement -”
door opens behind him, and Baz in all his glory appears in it.
start flying in of “BAZ” and “OMG”
are you doing?” Baz asks without a hint of a sneer in his voice.
filming a live show,” Simon tells him.
He seems… nervous?
live show, eh?” Baz strolls over and –
wonder of wonders – sits down on the bed next to Simon. We’ve never seen him this close to the
camera, and his eyes are this lovely mix of gray and green.
also never seen him this close to Simon before.
heart kicks up a notch. I’ve fallen down
the slippery slope and now there’s no denying that I ship it completely. I grab a pillow to hold to my chest and go
into fangirl-mode, overanalysing every inch of their proximity. With a click I maximize the screen, blocking
the other comments from my view. I want
to see every pixel of this.
was just going to make that little announcement,” Simon says, staring at his
hands in his lap.
Baz nods, apparently understanding. “Go
on, then. Carry on, Simon.”
Did he just call him Simon?
He never calls him Simon!
“I can’t do it if
you’re here!” Simon protests.
gives a shrug. “Then I’ll tell them.”
takes Simon by the collar and kisses him.
scream into my pillow.
and Baz are kissing, right now, in front of millions of people.
practically hear the collective aneurism that the fangirls are currently
still kissing, and Simon is grinning against Baz’s mouth. It’s the most genuine smile he’s ever graced
the internet with, and it’s not even for us.
tearing up, I’m so happy for them.
lets Simon go and turns to smirk at the camera.
“That one’s for all you SnowBaz shippers out there. Don’t think we don’t know.” He winks.
He fucking winks.
then he leaves.
turns back to the camera, his cheeks red and his lips puffy. He grins sheepishly.
yeah,” he stammers, “that’s what I was gonna tell you about.”
When a new student from Brooklyn joins the reader’s school, she doesn’t know what is in store for her. He is the epitome of trouble and she finds herself caught in his headlights. The more she resists, the harder it gets. Limits are tested and so is patience. Will she fall for the greaser boy with the bad reputation?
Word count: 1.9k
A/N: I actually really like this part. It was cute and I had fun writing it. I’m trying to type these faster because the good parts are just about to get here. Also I think a lot of you are expecting angst and there will be a few. Again I am not sure how long this will be. If you want to be tagged, just ask
You finished the final touches on your hair. Nike insisted on you wearing a pair of skinny jeans, a white shirt, peppered with holes and a black bomber jacket. You had honestly forgotten you even owned the jacket. It was stuffed in the back of your closet with the price tags still attached.
The clock read 6:55 PM.
You went into the bathroom and freshened up. After a quick glance at the mirror, you grabbed your phone and were on your way downstairs. At exactly 7:00 Bucky texted you.
Bucky: Here, doll
“Mom, Dad I’m going to a party!” You called.
The sound of clattering dishes, made you jump in surprise. Your Mother exited the kitchen. A small rag on her shoulder and a look of astonishment written all over her features.
“Honey!” She shouted. Your Father followed shortly after. “Y/N is going to a party.”
“Well, I’ll be damned!” He exclaimed.
“I’ll be back in an hour or so,” You added.
“Oh! No, stay out as long as you want! Have fun!” Your mother squealed with excitement. “But just remember to be back by no later than 12, okay?”
“Yes and don’t smoke cigarettes,” Your Father intervened.
You were eager to leave the house and end the small lecture you were being given. Once outside, you spotted Bucky. He was leaning against his car, the engine was roaring. You smiled and walked towards him. It wasn’t long before his own smirk crept onto his face.
“You look,” He paused as if searching for words. You blushed. “Beautiful.” You turned an even darker shade of red.
Bucky opened the car door for you, like a true gentleman. As if possible, you felt your face get hotter. Whatdoesthisboydotome? You thought. He slid into the driver’s seat and left the curb.
“Do you have any music?” You asked.
“Glove compartment. They’re CDs, I’m old fashioned,” He said.
You pulled out a handful of CDs and began searching for the one you liked or recognized. “Never mind,” You read aloud.
“Do you not like any of them?” He asked.
“Oh! No, I was just reading this Nirvana CD,” You quickly replied. The familiar cover of a CD made your heart nearly stop. You pulled out the disc and saw that it too had the sound wave design. Without hesitation, you placed it into the slit and familiar song began to play.
“I didn’t know you liked Arctic Monkeys,” He said over the music.
“I love them!” You smiled.
A hint of sadness settled over you when you realized that you had arrived at the destination. Nevertheless, the sadness turned to excitement quickly. Bucky parked a block away. He got out and opened the door for you. After thanking him, you and Bucky began to walk towards the house.
The deep bass was heard before you even entered the house. Plastic cups littered the front lawn. Bushes were ruined and flowers that were once perfectly planted were now plastered against the dirt. HowthehellareThorandLoki’sparentsokaywiththis? You asked yourself.
“Sounds like they’re having fun,” Bucky noted. You noticed that he switched up from his usual leather jacket to a blue denim jacket. He ran his hand through his hair.
Your attention was drawn to your school’s mascot who was standing on the roof of the house. The student was waving an American flag and pumping his fist violently.
“What the hell?” Bucky laughed. He grabbed your hand and pulled you into the open door. The music was even louder now that you were inside. People were dancing everywhere and anywhere. Others simply mingled around and spoke to one another and they watched the pandemonium unfold.
A plastic red cup was shoved into your hand. Bucky immediately chugged down the alcohol. You, however, took small sips. It was strong and burned your throat, but it was sweet at the same time. You made a sour face and Bucky laughed at your reaction.
“Here, let me help you with that,” He took the cup from your hand and finished it off for you.
The two of you plunged deeper into the house. Students were in the kitchen, on the sofa or sitting on the stairs. Some were in a heated make-out session while others were playing beer-pong. Sam and Thor were one of the players.
“Aha!” Thor bellowed loudly. “Take a drink, Samuel!”
Tony Stark was holding a conversation with a girl. She blushed deeply every time he smiled at her. You didn’t spot any of the others which surprised you since Thor was on their friends. Then again, Steve and Peggy didn’t seem the party type. Neither did Bruce, Natasha, Clint or the Maximoff twins.
Bucky’s hand never let go of yours. You understood why. This place was crowded and he could lose you instantly. A new song played. One you recognized and some people shouted in approval and began dancing once again.
Bucky led you to a secluded corner. You sat down, grateful to be away from all the commotion. You came to a conclusion: parties aren’t that great. Maybe it was because you weren’t feeling it.
“I shouldn’t have come,” you mumbled.
“Why is that?” Bucky asked.
“It’s clear that you want to have fun, maybe dance, meet a girl or two,” You replied.
“Y/N,” he tilted your chin up with his index finger. “Don’t say that. It’s just a party. One you didn’t want to come to in the first place. I shouldn’t have made that proposition with you.” He paused. “Besides, I only came here because I wanted to spend some more time with you, doll.”
He smiled at your shocked expression and stood up before stretching his hand out. “Let’s get out of here.”
He pulled you up and led you out and away from the noise. Once outside you realized.
“Hey, you’re not driving,” You said. “You just drank two cups of whatever they were serving.”
Bucky turned to you with an amused look on his face, “Do you really think I would drink and drive?” He shook his head. “We’re taking a walk. I could get to know you better. Sound good?”
You nodded and caught up with him. He stuffed his hands in the pockets of his denim jacket as you walked side by side with him. You occasionally looked over at him and couldn’t help but admire his good looks. Bucky was very handsome. You fancied him a bit. He was kind and that surprised you.
“So what else have you heard about me?” He asked suddenly.
You sighed, “Lots of things actually. Rumors.”
“Tell me some of them,” He continued.
“Two kids in my class said that you were arrested twice. I heard that you would go through girls as if they were shoes. You’re a heart breaker and only use girls for sex. Some say that you beat up a guy outside of school because he was getting on your nerves,” You paused. “Should I keep going?” He nodded. “I also heard that you used to get into street races and that you robbed a liquor store once.”
“Do you believe that?” He asked. “That they’re true, I mean.”
He got in front of you and made you look at him in the eye. His blues eyes seemed to search your face for some kind of answer. You thought to yourself for a second, then finally answered his question.
“No, I don’t believe them. I don’t believe them and I won’t listen to them. No matter how many people tell me that you’re dangerous and that you’re a bad person. From what I’ve seen, you’re kind and I may be incorrect, but until you prove me wrong, I have a firm idea about you.”
Bucky’s warm hands made contact with your face. You sucked in a breath as he cradled your face gently. He seemed to get closer to you. His smell was intriguing and you felt spellbound. In a daze, as you looked into his ocean blues.
“Y/N, can I-can I kiss you?” He asked quietly, so quietly that it wouldn’t be heard if you weren’t this close to him. A knot formed in your stomach and swallowed before nodding. Bucky leaned in. You closed your eyes and waited for his lips to meet yours.
A prolonged honk from a car made you quickly pull away before you could even savor what was about to happen. A group of students was driving down the street, blasting music from the car speakers and unnecessarily blaring the car horn. They were shouting patriotically. Annoyance bubbled inside you.
You knew you weren’t able to remake that intimate moment. It just wouldn’t be the same. Once it’s ruined, it’s ruined. Bucky seemed to notice this and he sighed heavily and grumbled something under his breath.
“You’re right, they’re not all true,” He said. "I never got arrested, only chased, but I managed to get away. I’ve only had about three girlfriends in the past. I didn’t beat up some guy because he was annoying, although it does sound like something I would do. I never robbed a liquor store and I actually did do street racing. For a while. My Ma, she struggled to put food on the table. Money was tight and I was tired of not being able to help.“
"Did she ever find out?” You asked.
He chuckled and nodded, “She did. She was pissed, but that didn’t stop me. I was able to pull us out of our own Great Depression. Brought in a grand a day, I did pretty well. Then we left Brooklyn and now I’m here.”
You had a long conversation with Bucky for about an hour. After you were sure that he was sober enough to drive, he led you back to his car. You had wandered pretty far off and you found yourself in what seemed to be the woods.
“You cold, doll?” Bucky asked.
You shook your head, “Surprisingly, no.”
He opened the car door for you and thanked him as you got in. It was a short drive back to your house. Silence surrounded the both of you. The only noise was Arctic Monkey’s AM album playing from the car speakers.
It had only been about two hours since you left your house. Bucky was a fun person to be around. He could uphold an easy conversation and was a good listener. You found yourself wanting to spill your thoughts and secrets to him and that scared you. It scared you that you trusted him so much in such a short span of time. You were a closed off person, then suddenly here comes Bucky. You had only met him for two days and you already had faith in him.
“So I’ll see you, Monday?” He asked.
“I’m pretty sure, yeah,” You smiled as you walked up to your house door, Bucky following close behind. You turned around and were taken aback at how close he was. He pressed a soft kiss against your temple. It was cool out, but you felt yourself get hot.
“Goodnight, doll,” He smiled sweetly and began making his way back to his car. “Sweet dreams.”
In a daze, you walked into your house and closed the door behind you. With your back pressed against the mahogany door, you slid down and ran your fingers down your cheeks. Where his hand touched your skin earlier that night. Oh, my god. Bucky Barnes was something else.
A/N: featuring selectively mute!Simon and soft!Baz
- - Simon - -
I don’t think I’ve ever been in the library before, but I have no idea where Penny is and this is my last reasonable idea (the next one being that she’s gone for a swim in the lake, but seeing as it’s about 10 degrees out, this is my last hope).
I walk in and start to call for her before being angrily shushed by a grouchy looking lady behind the desk. “Oops,” I whisper – well, try to whisper, which Penny says is basically a normal talking voice for anyone else when I’m in ‘loud mode’ as she calls it– “sorry, but have you seen my friend Penny?” The lady just glares at me and puts her finger against her lip, so I shrug and decide to just wander the shelves and try and find her myself. Too loud, I mentally rebuke myself. I’m always either too loud or too quiet. The only time I’m okay is when I’m with Penny. She’s good at letting me know. ‘Too loud, Simon,’ she’ll say, or ‘I can’t hear you, love, a little louder?’ I’m also not as anxious around her, so my tongue doesn’t freeze up and feel like lead, not anymore at least. I don’t choke over my words with her. I shove my fingers into my jean pockets, desperately trying to regain feeling in them and wander deeper into the library. It smells old, but not bad. Like maybe a bunch of posh ancient vampires lived here. The shelves tower overhead and I could probably get lost if I’m not careful. I’d need a trail of breadcrumbs or something to ever find my way back to the grouchy lady and the front door, but Penny will help me once I find her.
I keep wandering and weaving, peering around shelves and quietly whisper-screaming Penny’s name. I am hushed countless times by people sprawled on overstuffed chairs with thick books and annoyed frowns. After about thirty minutes I’ve given up; even if Penny is somewhere in this maze I’ll never find her. Plus, all the books are distracting (I’ve never been much of a reader, but the pictures on the covers are fun to look at).
Then another thing – well, person – catches my eye. He could be a posh library vampire if he were paler. He has long, dark hair pulled up in a messy bun like it was done up in a rush. Large hipster glasses are sliding off of his narrow nose- which is currently buried in a book. The shadows from the soft yellow lights in the ceiling fall against his face, accenting his sharp cheekbones and firm jawline. I stare open-mouthed at this boy, blinking a few times to make sure he isn’t just a figment of my imagination.
The boy sighs and shifts and I quickly push myself back behind the shelves, knocking over a couple of books as I move. Shit, shit, shit, he probably heard that. I wait for a little while, listening for movement, but don’t hear anything. Maybe he didn’t hear it. I slowly move forward again, peering around the shelf. He’s still there, still reading. I drink in the sight of this absolutely beautiful boy. He coughs, startling me and I start to move back again- tripping over my shoelaces as I go. I fall to the floor with a loud bang, and land on my back. I turn my head and stare through the books, but the chairs on the other side are empty. The boy is gone. I sigh and turn my head back up to stare at the ceiling. Only-there’s a person in my way. Startling grey eyes meet mine and I swallow back a gulp. Wisps of his hair fall against his cheeks. He’s even more beautiful up close.
“Mind telling me why you were watching me?” His voice is deep, deeper than mine. And smooth. A light lilt following his words. I open my mouth to reply, and then shut it again and close my eyes. My verbal communication skills are shitty at best, and in front of a beautiful boy they’re bound to be horrible. I don’t want to ruin the moment (if this even is a moment).
A light thud to my left causes me to open them again and look over. His nose brushes mine from where he’s lying on the ground next to me and he smirks. “You’re staring again,” he whispers. I feel his breath against my face and smile a bit at him, blushing. He grins back and turns his head towards the ceiling. I stare a while longer before looking up as well. The ceiling is quite beautiful, with arches made of dark wood forming large frames for beautiful murals and paintings. We’re lying under a night sky, painted white stars shining down on us. He tilts his head towards me and points a long elegant finger up. “See those brighter stars? In the top corner?” he whispers, tracing them with his finger in the air. I nod. “That constellation is called Cassiopeia, named after a boastful Ethiopian queen in Greek mythology.”
I slowly turn my head away from the stars on the ceiling and back to him. To his bright eyes and small smile as he passionately explains the stories in the stars. He points out a couple of others before meeting my eyes again and pausing.
“Simon.” I whisper.
I watch him mouth my name, curving his lips around each letter as if treasuring and memorizing each one. Simon. “Well, Simon.” His voice is breathy and light, “what do you see in the stars?”
I look back up, glancing over at him continuously. He nods encouragingly. Hesitantly opening my mouth I wish to everything that words could tumble out but they catch in my throat. I press my lips together and close my eyes, trying to control my shaking hands. I almost wish that I had continued therapy, that it had worked so I could fucking talk to this beautiful boy. That my continuous panic attacks during behaviour therapy hadn’t finally made me give up. Deciding to instead learn sign language with Penny alongside me for rough situations anxiety-wise, where my words choked me and my mouth betrayed me.
“Hey, hey” he whispers, noticing my obvious distress. He reaches out and grabs my hand. “You’re okay, Simon” oh how he says my name. It rolls off his tongue easy and light. “You’re okay,” he repeats, “Do you wanna know what I see in the stars?” I clench my eyes together and nod trying to focus on my breathing. The last thing I want right now is a panic attack. Why couldn’t I have this? Just this. This beautiful boy with his smile and his whispers about the stars.
“Okay,” he continues and points again with his left hand, his other hand staying over mine. “Well if you connect those stars it looks kind of like a dog. I mean not really, but it’s called the Canis Major. Which basically means big dog. I suppose if you use your imagination you can see it. That’s what I love about constellations. You have to use your imagination, otherwise they’re just weird connect-the-dots that don’t look like anything at all.” He looks back at me and I squeeze his hand and smile at him, blinking slowly, trying to savor this wonderful moment. How did I end up on the floor staring at a painted sky with a beautiful boy who doesn’t care that I could barely get my name out. A beautiful boy who lights up when he’s talking about stars and who doesn’t seem to want to let go of my hand.
“Simon,” His breath caresses my face, pulling me out of my thoughts. “Would you like to go get coffee with me?”
“Yes,” I whisper back, my voice cracking slightly from unuse.
“Okay,” he says, “but first you have to answer one question.”
I nod eagerly.
He leans in, nose brushing mine. “Why were you watching me?”
I stare at his lips, not ready to look into his sharp grey eyes. “I- “ I pause, lick my lips, raise my eyes to his.
“You’re beautiful,” I breathe out.
He leans in closer, and his lips brush mine as he whispers back.
A/N: I was watching Stranger Things when I wrote this… oops
Word Count: 2,109
- Written by Kat -
Ever since you were a kid, you felt like you were supposed to be doing something more. Like there was more that needed to be said, but you never got the chance. As time went on, you pressed the feeling deep within yourself, becoming someone else entirely. In this day and age, women were expected to look and act a certain way. The feeling in your gut was always pulling you away from those ideas, prompting you to be more. But you never gave them a chance, too scared of what people would think. So you swallowed your heart, you wore the dresses and skirts and makeup. You went to the dances, and parties, you smiled and laughed and flirted. And when the captain of the football team asked you out, the only thing to do was say yes. Even though you played the part, the feeling never left, it sat in you gut - an idle threat.