i am looking at you rainbow rowell


“We both look around us. I don’t think we’re in space; I can breathe just fine. And I don’t feel like floating away—though I am teetering on the edge of hysterical. So much power. So many stars. My mouth tastes like smoke. “Are you holding back at all?” I ask him.

“Not consciously,” Snow says. “Is it too much?”

“No. It’s like you completed the circuit,” I say, gripping his other hand. “I feel kind of drunk, though.”

“Drunk on power?” he asks. ― Rainbow Rowell, Carry On

3 am

Summary: A Snowbaz ficlet for Leavers Ball! Enjoy!


“Snow? What time is it?”

“Baz, come here.”

“I’m trying to sleep. Piss off.”

“Baz.” His voice breaks on my name and I instantly feel guilty. I sit up in bed.

“What is it, Snow?” I hate myself. I hate the way I treat him. He doesn’t deserve any of this. He doesn’t deserve the backlash of my frustration just because I can’t stand my own feelings.  

“Come here,” he whispers again. His voice wavers. I think he’s holding back tears.

I let myself stand up, walking the two steps to his bed and sitting down.

“What’s wrong?” I ask. He sits up and looks at me with big, glossy blue eyes.

He doesn’t respond, he just looks at me funny, with sadness in his eyes and his lips parted. Just looking at me.

“What is it?” I ask again. He still doesn’t say anything. I don’t know who he is right now.

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”

He shakes his head and looks at me.

“Why are you looking at me?”

“You have a whole universe on your face. I’m trying to map it out.”

I’m glad he isn’t crying. I don’t know what I would do if he was.

“Are you okay?”

“No. But it’s okay that I’m not okay.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“I don’t know. Do you want to do anything?”

“Yes. Let’s go somewhere. Maybe air will make you okay again.”

“Maybe.” He slides out of bed. His eyes don’t leave mine. He is a new kind of person. He is an alien to me. It’s fascinating.

I get up. He’s wearing an oversized shirt and briefs. I’m wearing sweats and a t-shirt. We look ready to map out the universe.

“Where are we going?”

“Let’s take over the world.”


We walk out of mummers house. His hair shines silky in the moon, his eyes an opaque blue. He’s beautiful.

“How exactly do we take over the world?” he asks, looking at me. The stars reflect in his eyes.

“Come with me. We can start by breaking the rules.”

I don’t know what he’s thinking, but I think he might know what I’m thinking. Because at 3 am it’s hard to hide the fact that I want to kiss him more than I want to take over the world.

We keep walking and we catch each other staring but don’t say a word. It’s a silent conversation.

“The gate?” he asks, eyes flashing wonder.

“The gate.” I take his hand and he doesn’t pull away. 3 am is a magickal time.

On love’s light wings!” I cast, my wand pointing to the sky. We float together, up and over the fence. I hope he doesn’t know what that spell means to me.

“Why are we out here?” He asks. His hand is still in mine. I squeeze it. He squeezes back.

“Come on,” I say. We keep holding hands. My arm is on fire.

We rush through a thicket of trees. I come out here to hunt when the Wavering Wood seems too crowded. I know the perfect place to go.

“How are you feeling, Snow?”


I grin. The branches scratch against us as we rush through the trees but we don’t seem to care. We start to run, pulling each other along through the dark forest, holding hands with a melody of laughter in the breeze.

“Okay,” I say, almost out of breath, “Here we are.”

He lets go of my hand. The fire goes out. But that’s okay, because his face holds a new kind of fire. He looks at the meadow. It’s full of wildflowers of all different colours. He doesn’t move an inch.

When I take his hand again I’m more timid and careful, my fingers slipping between his. He doesn’t seem to notice. Or he doesn’t care.

“Do you feel better?”

He nods and looks at me, then takes my other hand. I keep my eyes on his.

“Do you like the stars?” he asks, his eyes falling down onto our hands, where his thumbs brush over my knuckles.


“Do you like me?”



He pulls me with him, walking backward into the opening. The stars are above us but they all seem stuck in his eyes.


“Yes, Simon.”

“Do you want to dance?”

“Do you have music?”

“Do we need it?”

He pulls me to him and holds our hands up between us. “Do you know how to dance?” I ask.

“No. Do you?”

“Yes. But it doesn’t matter. Come here.”

He does. He steps closer and lets go of my hands. I bring his to my shoulders. I rest mine on his hips.



It’s like we’re tasting each other’s names in our mouths. His tastes like something I want to taste again and again and again.

“Are you better now?”

“Yes. Thank you.”

We aren’t really dancing. We just hold each other and walk in a circle. He rests his forehead on my shoulder.

“I like this.”


“Being like this with you. I like not fighting.”

“Me too.”

We don’t say anything else. I rest my head on his and close my eyes.

“Can we sit now? My legs are kind of tired. So are my eyes.” He says, pulling away.

“Do you want to go back?” I ask.

He shakes his head and falls to the ground in a swift and soft motion. I sit in front of him. His head tilts back and he watches the stars. I watch him.

“Do you know why you were sad earlier?” I ask, picking a flower from the ground and twirling it between my fingers.

“Yes. But I don’t want to talk about it.” He says.

“Okay.” I say.

He moves so his head is in my lap. His eyes look up at me and I push my fingers into his hair. “You know, Simon. You are a very beautiful boy. The most beautiful I have ever seen.”

He shakes his head and smiles up at me. “I don’t believe it. Out of all the boys you’ve seen, I am the most beautiful? How impossible.”

I shake my head. “Not impossible. Ever since I met you I thought you were beautiful. I’ve lived with you for eight years and I still haven’t gotten over it. I don’t think I ever will.”

He stares up at me with wide eyes and parted lips. “Why are you being so nice to me tonight?”

“Why are you letting me?”

He takes a pause. This night is full of perfect pauses. I’m in love with his pauses. His eyes search mine and his lips always parted. A pause means he’s thinking. When he thinks you can see into his soul.

“Because I need you.” He says finally. I don’t dare move. I don’t dare breathe. I only look at him. “I need you like this. I need us not fighting. I need soft touches and gentle words. I need nights filled with careless adventure and I need your perfect smile. Okay? I need you.” He sits up and sits cross-legged in front of me. Our knees touch.

“Okay.” I don’t know what to say. I want to show him the world. I want to tell him every thought that’s ever run through my head but I stay silent. I reach out and take his hand.

“I was sad because I need you but I wasn’t sure that you needed me.” He says. He sounds sad again. I don’t want him to cry.

“I need you,” I say, my fingers rubbing his. I tilt his chin to look at me. “I need you. I’ve needed you for so long, Simon.”

He brings his hand up to my cheek. It’s another pause. Another lovely and fascinating pause. His fingers travel to my hairline and he slides them down to my neck and pulls me forward.

Our lips meet in the middle, his fingers pressing gently into the back of my head and mine pressing into the palm of his hand. He doesn’t taste like what he smells like. Simon smells like smoke. He tastes like apples.

He pulls on my neck and moves to kneel on his knees. Our lips don’t break contact. He moves onto my lap and slides his other hand in my hair. I rest mine on his hips. He deepens the kiss. It makes me dizzy. I squeeze my eyes shut and try to concentrate on the way he feels on my skin. Soft and smooth and sweet.

He pulls away but only barely. Just enough to get some air. His forehead is against mine.

“I don’t want things to go back tomorrow when we wake up,” he says. He’s sad again. I want to tell him to never be sad again.

“How could it?” I ask, my thumb brushing the exposed skin of his hip.

“Okay.” is all he says. Another pause. Another brief look into his star capturing soul.

He presses his hand against my chest and I fall back into the flowers with him resting on top of me.

“I think that I love you, Baz.”

3 am is a magickal time.

Snowed In

Baz thought it was bad enough that he and Simon were partnered up (he couldn’t even talk to him without turning into a blushing mess), but it was a bloody nightmare when the teacher announced it was to be done at home. That meant Simon Snow would be at his house in his bedroom.

Baz was sitting on his bed, watching Simon glue a map onto their poster, when Mordelia burst into the room. Her eyes flickered from Simon to Baz and she smiled venomously. “Mum said Simon had to spend the night.”

“Why?” Baz suddenly felt sick to his stomach. He had convinced himself that the whole ordeal couldn’t possibly get any worse, but this was the icing on the cake of terrible situations.

His sister snorted. “Have you looked outside?”

Simon was already scrambling to his feet to throw the curtains open. Snow swirled violently passed the window, obscuring the view of the lawn. “Huh, it’s really coming down.”

Baz didn’t hear him, he was too busy going into ‘existential crisis mode’.

“Looks like we’ll get more time to work on the project,” Simon continued. He pulled away from the window and the curtains slid shut neatly behind him.

Baz figured the universe must really hate him.

“Is everything okay, Baz?”

“He’s just freaking out because his crush is spending the night,” Mordelia sang before slamming the door shut behind her.

Why is she so damn observant?

“Crowley, she’s annoying.” Baz dragged a hand down his face and shot a sideways glance at Simon, who had already returned to working on the poster like the prior conversation hadn’t taken place. “Since you’re staying the night we’ll have plenty of time to finish it, Snow.”

“I know,” Simon replied simply. “But I was hoping we could hurry and finish now it so we could use the rest of our time to just hang out.”

Never thought I’d see the day when Simon Snow is in my room, wanting to hang out. With me.

Baz couldn’t believe the plethora of information Simon was just telling him casually. Like how his childhood had consisted of bouncing from one foster family to another, or how he had an unnatural obsession with sour cherry scones. He was so much more than the adorable dork Baz had originally pegged him as.

Baz also found himself telling Simon things he had never told another soul.

He was falling deeper than he intended.



They were both sprawled on their backs, Simon on the couch and Baz in bed.

Baz’s heart raced. “Um,” he cleared his throat. “Please don’t think I’m weird, but the bed is big enough for both of us and it’s probably a lot more comfortable than that old couch.”

Silence, then shuffling and the sound of bare feet padding over wood. The mattress shifted slightly under Baz as Simon slid into bed.

Baz was eternally grateful the room was pitch black, his face was no doubt redder than a tomato.


“What?” Baz was sure he was about to catch fire.

“I like it better when you call me Simon.”

Baz woke up groggy and warm. He buried his face into Simon’s curls and was about to fall back asleep when he made a startling realization that Simon was snuggled up to his chest. In his arms.

He was about to pull away but Simon turned on his side and slid his arms around Baz’s waist.

“Simon,” Baz whispered.

Simon let out a long groan and burrowed closer to Baz. “What?”

“Are you okay with this?”

It took nearly a minute for Simon to reply, Baz thought he’d fallen asleep again. “Of course I am,” he mumbled sleepily. “Now shut the hell up and let me sleep.”

Let Me Look After You [A Simon Snow x Baz Pitch One Shot].

A/N: Hello my lovelies! So, because I loved Carry On so much by Rainbow Rowell, I am now writing fanfiction, for a book that started as fanfiction, in a fictional world, where a girl writes about said fanfiction, which may or may not be based around Harry Potter and other fandoms. 

And that made no sense. But you get the drift. 

So this is based off an anon that asked @carryon-simonsnow, this post and this! Thank you so much for letting me write this, I hope you all enjoy! 

Pairing: Simon x Baz. 

Warnings: Some swearing, sexual scenes (kissing and stuff, implied sex). NSFW, just in case. I’m paranoid. 

Disclaimer: I don’t own anyone. 

P.S: This has been edited, but you all know the drill, if there are any mistakes, sorry about that! 

Baz could be quite protective over Simon, but not overly and not to the extent that it’s worrying or annoying. He just likes to look after his boyfriend, that’s all. After years of pining (and hiding his love behind false hatred), it’s understandable. They’d been together for about a year now, the both of them at university and it’s been amazing – hard, sometimes they argue and fight, but they always find their way back to each other.

And right now, he had Simon pinned to the sofa beneath him, his lips pressed against the bronze haired male’s. Simon hadn’t exactly had the best day and came back to their apartment (really it was Penny’s and Simon’s, but Baz practically lived there anyway), upset and looking down. It was about his magic and though Simon was getting better at coping with the loss of his powers, he still felt that dull ache – he wasn’t anything special.

Keep reading

Sleepless Nights

For Carry On Countdown -Fifth Year

Written from Baz’s pov, basically just pining oops

This is getting ridiculous. It’s 3am. In the past four nights I’ve had less than twenty hours sleep combined. I close my eyes for the millionth time, knowing full well that they’ll have opened again within the the next minute.

It’s not like I’m trying not to sleep -quite the opposite. I just can’t stop thinking. My brain won’t shut up. I’ve been having trouble sleeping for the past few months, but it’s never got this bad before. I’ve tried everything. I’ve tried going for walks once Simon’s fallen asleep, but that only makes me think more and I end up wandering across the whole site, aimlessly, for hours on end and come back no less weary but a hell of a lot colder. I’ve tried listening to classical music through earbuds. I’ve even managed to blag some chamomile tea from the kitchen, but it didn’t help. It just tastes faintly like piss.

Simon rolls over in his sleep and I let out a sigh. How can he sleep so easily? How can he do everything so easily? His whole life is just one big long walk in the park. He doesn’t agonise over homework, he’s in a happy relationship, he hardly even does a thing between getting out of bed and going down to breakfast -just brushes a hand through his hair and he’s good to go.

I’d brush my hand through his hair.

Wait. What. No. It’s 3am. I’m knackered. I don’t know where that came from. I roll over, blushing despite the fact that no one could know I’d thought that. I’m now facing the window. It’s open, of course, and I realise suddenly that I’m absolutely freezing. Bloody Snow and his stupid.. stupid… argh. I don’t even know what I’m trying to think. I get up to close it, a little too quickly, and stumble slightly on my way across. It takes two attempts for it to actually shut, the rotten wood swollen bigger than its frame. I am forceful the second time round, and it slams loudly, the metal catch rattling against the glass. Snow stirs and I worry that I have woken him, before I realise that I don’t actually care. Why shouldn’t he wake up? He left it open to begin with. Stupid. And that stupid hair.

I lay on my back for a while and think about nothing. Well, I probably was thinking about something, but it wasn’t significant. I trace patterns on the sheet instead, my finger joining up creases like those dot-to-dot things I remember doing as a child. Like little constellations, I think. Like Simon’s freckles. The ones on his back are spread out enough to do an actual dot-to-dot. Spread out enough to be actual constellations.

What the fuck? I’m thinking about Simon’s moles. That’s like, the third time I’ve thought about him tonight. Then I try and remember, and I decide it’s probably actually more than three times… Does this count? Does thinking about thinking about Simon count as thinking about Simon? I laugh suddenly and unexpectedly, a sort of choke, and bury my face in my duvet so as not to wake Simon. There we go again, I think. Of course Snow doesn’t wake. He never does. Never has. All these five years of me banging around doing whatever I’ve been doing and he just snuffles through it, only turning occasionally, or flickering his eyelids.

I almost wish he would wake up. Dev tells me about how when he stays with his cousins they don’t really talk much, but they all share a room at night. He says once it passes about 2am, different rules apply. They talk about everything, he says, stuff you would never dream of telling anyone when you’re fully awake. I’ve never had a sleepover that wasn’t with him or Niall, and we did have deep conversations but I don’t think that really counts because we’re already close. I don’t need to be half asleep to talk to him. But then I start thinking. Do I? Do I tell him stuff? Real stuff? I complain about how fucked up my family is and what Snow’s up to, and, sure, when we have sleepovers we talk about stuff. Girls. We’ve talked about girls. Is that what he means? Girls? Because that’s where my problem lies. I’ve spoken to Dev about girls. Girls. Not about boys.

Would I talk to Simon about boys? If we were both tired and we reached the magical 2am and forgot our feuds, would I talk to him? It’s hard to imagine. The forgetting feuds part. I look at him. His head is laying in a pool of moonlight on his pillow and he looks like a hand tailored mannequin. Nobody is this flawless naturally: his skin looks like pearl, his hair like silk, and his features ethereal. ‘Snow.’ It’s suits him, as a name. Fun and childish and exciting, but also.. stunningly beautiful.

What the fuck, Baz. Shut up. Simon Snow isn’t fucking beautiful.

But he is. You can say that. It’s fine to be able to appreciate beauty. Dev is quite good looking.

Now you’re being stupid. Dev is not good looking.

No, Dev is good looking. He’s just not Simon Snow.

My knuckles whiten as my grip on the duvet tightens. I loosen them. It’s just Snow. He’s still sleeping. Fucker.

There is silence again. I imagine shaking him awake. How is it fair that he is so asleep and I am so not? I need it more than him; he doesn’t have to worry about how well he does in lessons because he’s not battling for top against that stupid Bunce friend of his. I imagine shaking him awake and pinning him against the wall. I’m shouting at him, I don’t know what but I’m shouting something. I’m angry and I’m I’m holding Simon Snow against a wall and shouting at him and my spit is flying into his face. I’m furious and he’s not doing anything to stop me. He’s just hanging there limply and letting me do what I’m doing. He’s in my hands. I have control.

And then I stop. I look at his face, scrunched up, little flecks my my saliva mingled with freckles.

I brush them from his cheek with my thumb.

He’s staring at me. His eyes are the most penetrative ice blue I’ve ever seen. I’m staring into his eyes and I’m shivering and my thumb is still on his cheek. And suddenly his eyes are closing. His eyes are closing and his head is tilting and it’s moving towards me. Simon Snow is… going to kiss me?

“M-Bazz..” I jolt my eyes open. Simon fucking Snow is laying in his bed, as asleep as he’s ever been. I glower at him. He murmurs my name again and I nearly throw the lamp at his head.

All. I. Want. Is. To. Go. To. Sleep. You. Stupid. Fucking. Dick.

I roll over determinedly. When I close my eyes again Simon Snow does not have time to kiss me because I am banging his head against the wall. Those stupid fucking eyes flash at me. They look hurt.

Good, I think. And I throw the lamp.

After You

Part: 4/?

Masterpost: {x}

Pairing: Snowbaz

Summary: What if Simon had never gone off that night in 2008?

Warning: cussing, blood, smoking

Word Count: 3k+

Tags: @muchachadeningunaparte, @deathbycaptainswan, @punsarethebiagenda, @totallyademigod, @bazznsimon (tell me if you want to be tagged!)

A/N: Let me know what you think! My inbox is always open! Also, I made a playlist! You can listen to it here. You can share songs that you think would be good for a chapter and if I like it enough, I will replace the song I have in its place! Also, it would be best to listen to it in order since it’s a song per chapter. Anyway, enjoy!!

Keep reading


I’d been wanting to upload this for awhile… last time I reread Fangirl, I went back through the section of Landline with Levi and Cath, and I documented all of the evidence that I could find that proved that it really was Levi Stewart and Cather Avery who helped Georgie.

I had ridiculous amounts of fun doing this! I hope you see this, Rainbow! I’ve loved all of your books so far, and am REALLY looking forward to the next one!!

#bookstaBingo May•••


Hello bookstagram! I am SUPER EXHAUSTED after doing a lot of cleaning, plus giving baths to our five dogs, whew! They’re all sweet and adorable though so it’s fine 😊❤️🐶 Anyway I thought I’d do one of the prompts for @bookslayerreads’ photo challenge and I chose the prompt ‘Pink’ which is pretty obvious. I love how this little sea of pink books turned out! Also #pinkbooks tag tagged by @paperfury, thank you! 💗💗💗

Do you cry?
Do you scream?
Do you hate your being
With every ounce inside you?

Tell me
About that night.
The night you lost yourself
From just a bite.

“I was a kid.
Still so small.
Then that night
I lost it all.

I grew up too fast.
I got too sad.
I can’t leave the past.
I’m just too attached.

I’m attached to hating myself,
And to loving the sun.
I’m attached to hating myself,
What a terrible son.

I do cry.
I do scream.
I cannot leave them behind
Because I am my own nightmare.”

—  the sun and the son, what an odd pairing (snowbaz angst poetry for @carryon-countdown )
Saucy Snowbaz (a cookery class oneshot)

 For @4wksoffluff

Summary: Baz and Simon attend a cooking class. Just some fluffy, food-related Snowbaz for your day.

 Baz enrolled us both in a basic cookery class, as a gift to me. We’re out the door and walking to the underground station by 4.30, being well prepared to get there by 5pm. Baz swings my hand in his while we walk down the street. “So, Snow,” he asks, “are you excited? You’ll finally be able to bake your own scones?”

“Yeah, I’m really excited! And also, we won’t have to keep eating cheese toasties for dinner all the time. It’s going to be great, and not to mention a nourishing, change.” I turn my head around and grin at him. He smiles back.

  We make it on the train with plenty of time to spare. It’s really crowded, so we’re standing up, across from each other. There’s this really tall bloke to my right- he smells musty and sweat-like- and he keeps falling into my shoulder and muttering sorry, all the while trying to write in his notebook. No wonder he keeps falling into me. Who writes standing up on a train?

‘Having fun there?” Baz says softly to me from where he’s standing, one leg crossed in front of the other, looking graceful and cool, like he’s never put less effort into anything before.

“Yeah,” I lean across slightly and whisper-shout, so he can hear me over the noise, “this guy’s great.” I jerk my thumb in the direction of tall-and-sweaty, who’s still scribbling away.

“Better than this one,” he mouths, subtly pointing in the direction of the kid sitting down who keeps kicking his legs into Baz. I make a pseudo worried face, and he makes eye contact with the kid and not so subtly glares. I laugh, the kid doesn’t even stop kicking. Poor Baz.

  The cooking class has a great teacher. They’re really young and swanky, with this short, swoopy purple haircut and a penchant for plaid. There are multiple benches around the room, and Baz and I are right up the front, with a great view of the teacher’s demonstrations. Today we’re making a selection of sauces (white, cheese, marinara, salsa) and cooking up some pasta to go with it. First, the teacher is showing us how to make a roux- you melt some butter in a pot and mix flour into it. Then you add the milk intermittently, stirring between each addition so that you get a thick, smooth sauce. The teacher’s one is looking great, mine and Baz’… not so much. It’s lumpy and thin enough to slide off a spoon, and we already have flour all over our bench. The flour was Baz’ fault though; he gave me what he thought was a playful nudge in the shoulder and ended up causing me to tip the cup of flour I was holding, only a fraction of it managing to get into the pot. No wonder our sauce was looking thin, we must not have the right amount of flour in there. The teacher comes over to check on us, leaning over to look in the pot. “That’s alright,” they say upon seeing our tragedy of a sauce, “not many people can nail a roux on their first go.” They walk off to check on someone else, and I inhale and exhale sharply.

“No need to look so relieved, Snow,” Baz says. “This isn’t Masterchef. And I’m sure we’ll ace this class next time. Or on the next sauce. It’s nowhere near over yet.”

“Yeah, I know,” I reply, “I just really wanted to be good at this. It has been fun, though.” I must look a little sad because Baz pulls me into his shoulder and speaks softly into my hair.

“You’re doing great, Simon,” he says. “And even if your food didn’t taste good, I’d eat it anyway, because you made it.“ I smile, kiss his cheek and start tending to the sauce again. I really am lucky to have him.

I never said why I like you, and now I have to go.  It’s because you’re kind.  And because you get all my jokes… And you’re smarter than I am.  And you look like a protagonist.  You look like the person who wins in the end.  You’re so pretty, and so good.  You have magic eyes, and you make me feel like a cannibal.
—  Rainbow Rowell, Eleanor and Park
Valentine’s Day

So, I’ve posted about this a bit before, but remember that AU where Baz and Simon meet again when they’re 32 on a Singles tour of Magickal Britain? Yeah, this is that. 

Post- humdrum, Simon doesn’t have magic. Oneshot. V fluffy. Fluff x 10000

They were forced to do it, but they never thought it would end up like this


Penny talked me into this. I would have never, in a million years gone here on my own, but she was relentless. 

“Simon, it’s nearly Valentines Day, and you need to get out of the house!” 

She was just as persuasive over Skype as in person, though if she hadn’t been in America, she probably would’ve dragged me to the bus stop herself. 

She did have a point though. I had tried to make something happen with Agatha after Watford, but things hadn’t worked out. She had run off to America. Just like everyone else. 

I’m really not that bitter about all that. Micah and Penny’s kids are adorable (and brilliant) and I visit all the time. I even talk to Agatha sometimes. But, all the other relationships I’ve tried have fizzled out, so now I’m here, at 32, on Valentine’s Day on a Singles Tour of Magickal Britain. Typical. 

I feel a little out of place in the crowd, surrounded by magic. I lost mine at the end of 8th year, in the process of defeating the humdrum. Being a hero isn’t all fun and games. I mill around, looking for people I know. Then, I see him. His head peaks out above the crowd. He always was so goddamned tall. 

It’s Baz, the vampire, my former roommate, the guy who made my life hell for 8 years. I walk toward him, not knowing what I’m going to do. I might punch him. We aren’t roommates anymore, and I don’t have a school to get expelled from. Mostly, though, I want to know where he’s been. I’d assumed he’d gotten himself a pretty little wife from one of the Old Families and had a bunch of vampire children. But, here he is, at this bus stop wearing – sweet Merlin, he’s wearing jeans


Fiona had made me go to this stupid thing. “Meet a bloke, have some fun Basil.” 

Yeah, because I’m sure I’m going have the time of my bloody life. 

I walk around for a bit, looking through the pamphlet, and then I see him. Well, I don’t just see him. I see him and smell him and hear him and feel him all at the same time. Simon fucking Snow

He’s walking - no - running towards me, his face flushed and intense. Of course he would be here. Of course. 


I consider ignoring him, but that would honestly be impossible. Of all the things I could do to Simon Snow, ignore him is not one of them. I turn, putting on my old mask of aloofness and distaste. 


All of a sudden, he’s right there, invading my personal space. We’re inches apart, and he looks so confused. Is he deciding whether or not to hit me? His eyes fall to my lips. We’re so close, I could… I hate this. He makes me feel like I’m 18 again and trying my best not to kiss him or kill him and I hate it. I hate being a part of his story. I hate how much I love him, even after all these years. I hate it. 

“Baz, what are you doing here?” 

“I could ask the same of you.” 

“Penny put me up to it.”

Of course she did. Before I have time to formulate a witty comeback, however, we’re being ushered gruffly onto the bus. I’m put at the back of the top half, and Snow in the seat right next to me. I start to protest, but the tour guide gives me a death glare. I can feel the magic welling up in her. One more word out of me, and I’m getting spelled to my seat. 

I turn, and let myself really look at him. His hair is similarly styled to the last time I saw him, if a little shorter. His skin is tanner, and has the slightest bit of stubble. He still has all his moles, in the exact same places. Crowley, I’m in too deep. 

The bus is moving now, and he begins to speak. 

“So, Baz, why are you still single?” This man is going to be the death of me. He seems to realize the indelicacy of his statement, though, and backtracks. 

“I mean, I’d just assumed you’d have a wife and kids by now.”

I laugh involuntarily at the thought of me with a wife. I had been out to everyone I know since after graduation. Also, heteronormativity at its finest. 

“What’s so funny?” 

Oh, shit. Am I going to have to tell him? 

Snow keeps looking at me intently. He will not stop until he gets an answer. When I imagined coming out to Simon at school, it was usually followed by “And I’m desperately in love with you.” But that wouldn’t do today. So, I just start. 

“I was laughing because…well… I’m gay Snow.” 


I sit there in shock. The tour guide is saying something, but I don’t hear it. 

Baz is gay

I lived with him for 8 years of my life, I followed him through the catacombs, I watched him sleep for Crowley’s sake, but I didn’t know that? Now that I think of it, I never really imagined him with a girl. But, could I imagine him with a guy? I – I think I did, actually. I must have. Weird. 

He’s staring at me, and I have to respond. 


Nice. Perfect answer. I am such a fucking idiot. 

Baz must realize the awkwardness of the silence, so he talks instead. 

“So, why don’t you have a wife? I thought you and Wellbelove were locked and loaded.” 

“I dunno, things just, never really worked out.” 

Why am I doing this? Why am I being so goddamned civil? We’re having a normal(ish) conversation. We never did that, in all our years at Watford. But, we’re not at Watford anymore. 

I look at Baz. He’s still got those insane cheekbones, and that long, silky black hair. He’s still fucking perfect. 

“So, I guess we’re just kind of… alone together, right?” 


My 15-year-old self is screaming at me now. Seriously though, “Alone together”? Is he trying to kill me? This is going to set my life back 10 years. I’m never going to be over Simon bloody Snow. Well, I might as well enjoy his presence while I can. I smile. 

“Yeah, I’d like that.” 

We sit on the bus as the tour guide tells us about the Massacre of Warlocks Three in the adjacent park. How romantic. 

“So” Simon asks, “What have you been doing after graduation?” 

Small talk with Simon Snow. This is… different 

“I went to Uni and worked at Starbucks for a while, but now I teach violin.” 

He smiles. Simon Snow smiles at me

“I teach too! I’m actually a counselor at a local public school. I get to help kids, which is really great.” 

He’s obviously very passionate about his work. I love him so much. I know it’s pathetic, but I don’t care. Even without his magic, his company is still intoxicating. I can’t help but smile. 


Baz is smiling. Not sarcastically, or out of spite. He’s just smiling because he’s happy. I like Baz being happy. I look into his eyes. They’re stormy grey, like the ocean on a cloudy day, and just as deep. He tucks a strand of hair behind his ear. He looks so cute when he smiles. 

Before I can process that thought, or act on it, the bus comes to a screeching halt. The driver calls out: “Squirrel! Sorry!” 

The shock gets me back to my senses. I’m on a pathetic singles tour with Baz, my former nemesis. 

Who you just thought was cute

I look over at him. He looks back, seemingly remembering I was there, and asks 

“Are you okay?” 

I smile again. 

“Yeah, you?” 

He laughs. 

“Yeah, I’m fine” 


We sit there, looking at each other for a moment. He’s wearing a tight sweater, with a scooped neckline. I can see his neck and a sliver of his chest. I don’t know why, but it makes me blush. Then, I remember. 


He’s looking at my chest, seemingly spacing out. His curls fall over his face, begging me to run my fingers through them. 

Then, all of a sudden, Snow’s eyes get wide, and he turns bright red. 

He looks at me, and then turns away, staring resolutely out the window. What was that? I reach over and touch his shoulder, and he jumps, scooting slightly away. 

What the fuck is going on? 


I am able to imagine Baz with a guy. Not only that, but I have, multiple times over the course of my stay at Watford. And that guy was me

I’m freaking out. Memories are running through my head. Had I really made a list of all the things… oh, I had. I had. I feel Baz touch my shoulder. 

Really not the best time right now!! 

I get closer to the window. I’m hyperventilating now. How had I not remembered all of this earlier? I spend most of my time reminiscing about Watford, so how had this not come up? Wanting to kiss your vampire roommate seems pretty important. 

“Hey, are you okay?” 

I have to turn around, or he’ll think something’s up. Oh God, I feel like a teenager again, so vulnerable and self-conscious Stay cool. Be cool

He looks so worried. His eyes are large and full of compassion. He is so worried about me. Why is he so worried about me? I have to say something. 

“I’m… I’m fine.” 

Baz still looks concerned. 

“Are you sure?” 

He grabs my hand. I gasp, and look up at him. 


The contact is electric. His skin is so warm. He is so warm and everything is so cold and I need him. He’s looking at me with those absurdly blue eyes, and I’m falling. I’ve gone too far. I have to restrain myself but I can’t because he’s right there and I’m falling. I feel like I’m 18 again and the world is on fire. 


I haven’t felt magic in almost 15 years, but this is pretty goddamned close. I look at Baz’s lips. Why is he so fucking perfect? 


The tour is going to be over soon. This might be my last chance. I should kiss him. I should kiss him and get it over with and move on. I should kiss him and get this out of my system. But then, he kisses me


We’re on a bus full of people, but I don’t really care. I just care about the taste of Baz’s lips. Sugar and mint and longing, just in case you were wondering. 


Simon Snow is kissing me and nothing makes sense and the world is on fire. I pull back, breathing heavily. He’s looking at me, seemingly as astonished as I am. The whole top deck of the bus has turned around to stare at us. The tour guide it silent. Someone starts clapping. A couple more join in. The first floor must be so fucking confused. 

Simon leans in and whispers, “How long have you wanted to do that?” 

“20 years, give or take.” 

He laughs. 

“Me too… I think.” 

He collapses into me, and I rest my chin on his head. 

The tour guide comes on the intercom 

“Another successful match made by Signature Magikal Singles Tours.” 

Fiona is never gonna let me live this down. 

book quotes

Here is a list of book quotes that have HIT ME IN THE FEELS. They’re not arranged in any particular order, these are all just some quotes that I love and want to share with the internet.

1. “You could rattle the stars, you could do anything, if only you dared. And deep down you know it too. That is what scares you most” - Sarah J Maas, Throne of Glass

2. “So I guess we are who we are for a lot of reasons. And maybe we’ll never know most of them. But even if we don’t have the power to choose where we come from, we can still choose where we go from there. We can still do things. And we can try to feel okay about them..” - Stephen Chbosky, The Perks of being a Wallflower

3. “You endure what is unbearable, and you bear it. That is all.” - Cassandra Clare, Clockwork Princess

4. “She was the heir of ash and fire, and she would bow to no one.” - Sarah J Maas, Heir of Fire

5. “Do not pity the dead, Harry. Pity the living. And, above all those who live without love.” - JK Rowling, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows

6. “I don’t know where there is, but I believe it’s somewhere, and I hope it’s beautiful” - John Green, Looking For Alaska

7. ““I spent my life folded between the pages of books.
In the absence of human relationships I formed bonds with paper characters. I lived love and loss through stories threaded in history; I experienced adolescence by association. My world is one interwoven web of words, stringing limb to limb, bone to sinew, thoughts and images all together. I am a being comprised of letters, a character created by sentences, a figment of imagination formed through fiction.”  - Tahereh Mafi, Shatter Me

8. “You rekindled me, heaps of ashes that I am, into fire.” - Charles Dickens, A Tale of Two Cites

9. “Eleanor was right. She never looked nice. She looked like art, and art wasn’t supposed to look nice; it was supposed to make you feel something.” - Rainbow Rowell, Eleanor and Park

10. “Break my heart, break it a thousand times if you must, it was only ever yours to break anyway.” - Kiera Cass, The One

These quotes belong to the authors and the publishers and all credits got to them of course. :)

Hello 💙

💙 Hi, I’m Kyli, nice to meet you. I’m 14, biromantic, and from Washington in the U.S. I am looking for a friend to talk to. (Completely random, I am planning to go to New York for my senior trip and my mother says to start planning now, so a friend in New York would be great.)

💙 I have an interest in writing, reading, watching YouTube, tv shows, movies, and listening to music. My music tastes goes from screamo to musicals. I truly hope to become a writer in the future.

💙 My favourite books are Matched (Ally Condie), Fangirl (Rainbow Rowell), and An Abundance of Katherines (John Green). My favourite movies are Newsies, Open Windows, and The Way He Looks. With tv shows, Gotham, Merlin, and Supergirl would be on the top three. My favourite bands are Our Last Night, Panic! At The Disco, All Time Low, Sleeping With Sirens, and Bring Me The Horizon. With musicals, my favourites are Dear Evan Hansen, Natasha Pierre and the Great Comet Of 1812, and Falsettos. My favourite YouTubers are Madeyewlookbylex, Dodie Clark, Kurt Hugo Schneider, and Game/Film Theory.

💙 My perfect pen pal would be someone who is generally a kind person. Please be between the ages of 13-16. Other than that, I don’t prefer anything. I won’t judge you about anything.

💙Contact me:
Tumblr- meap95588

💙Thank you for reading this! Hope to hear from someone

  • baz: *goes to the bathroom*
  • simon: oh my god o hmy go d he is being evil???? here is my proof oh my g
  • baz: *reading a book*
  • simon: here it is!!!! here it is what is this book is it '101 ways to be evil' god i knew IT BASILtoN
  • baz: *chatting with his friends*
  • simon: GOOD LORD penny penn y LOOK at this can't you just FEEL the evil my GOD
  • baz: *sleeps*
  • simon: *shudders* how am i in the same room as this MONSTEr wHat
a storm

The door opens and crashes closed perfectly in sync with rolling thunder.
Snow is standing there like a wet dog, dripping all over our room, one arm holding the other, his shirt clinging to his stomach so I can see every line of shivering muscle, the trail of hair going down down..
And then he’s shaking himself like an animal and there’s water all over my bed and I snap out of my daydream which is good it’d have probably ended with me having to rush to the bathroom.
He’s still said nothing, the only sound in the room is the scattering of hard rain against the window and the occasional thunder. Eventually I can’t stand it anymore “Please explain why you look like a soaked mongrel and dry, you’re flooding the room Chosen one.” I’m trying my best to sneer at him whilst in my head I’m still freaking out about the clinging clinging shirt and the muscle and..
“ I was out in the woods?” He says it like it’s a question, like he’s expecting me to tell him the answer.
“I thought you were there.”
“Trying to follow me again Snow, are we ? Please get a towel or do you want me to dry you off.”
My heart skips a beat when I realize what I just said , did I really offer to dry off Simon Snow? I must be going crazy
But then he gets a towel from our bathroom and gives it to me and why is he doing that maybe I’m not the only one who’s lost his mind. He sits down on my bed (Snow!On!My!Bed!) and I take the towel off him.
“I could strangle you with this, you know?”
“You wouldn’t..”
“Of course I would, what do you want?”
“I’m really cold and my arm hurts like hell, I tripped over something , please Baz” he sound exasperated, like the only thing he needs right now is to be dried off. By me. Crowley.
Carefully I take the towel and start rubbing it over his head, slowly, concentrating on every move .
And then he suddenly jerks away and I’m left slightly breathless and with empty hands, yearning for touch.
And my breathing has become erratic because Simon, The Chosen One is sitting in front of me without a shirt on mumbling something about it being easier without a shirt on.
“What’s easier Snow, use your words.”
“ To dry me, my tshirt was wet as well.”
As if I hadn’t noticed. He bows his head again and I resume drying off the tousled mess of locks ( why are his ears so red? ) when he looks up at me and all I can see are freckles over freckles, big blue (ordinary) eyes staring and there are raindrops in his lashes and he looks so alive, so breathtakingly beautiful .. and I’m thinking about kissing him..
And then he kisses me
His soft lips are on mine, his damp face against my pale one and this has to be a dream it has to this hurts too good and my hands are in his hair finally finally finally
He’s pining me down with one arm, his exposed stomach just above me and when I reach out a hand to feel he makes a noise I would give everything for to hear again.
So I give everything
My hands are reaching and touching and his lips are everywhere, my cheeks, my neck, my collarbones, a moan escaping my lips, my eyes flying open as I feel his hand reaching under my shirt “Is that, I mean.. are you okay with this Baz?” I kiss him again, a open mouthed hot breath mingling, teeth clashing, heart wrenching seeing stars kiss, his hands roaming freely now, my arms are around his back and I’m gripping, pulling him closer, and the skin on skin contact is too much when he looks me in the eye, pupils blown red cherry cheeks, hair tumbling over
“You know why I wanted you to dry me off” he’s trailing his fingers on my side
“Why” I’m breathless
“I wanted to know how you react.. And I wasn’t hoping for this, but it’s better than anything else”

Fangirl fans?

Hello everyone! I am looking for other fans of Rainbow Rowell’s book Fangirl! If you are one of them, please do one of the following; one, send me an ask here or two, like or reblog this post! This is for me to find you guys so that I have someone to share the love for the novel Fangirl and everything in it! I hope I’ll find you! :)

Positive Quotes (for motivation)

Hi people! Today is day number 3 of our project! Let’s do it!

In this post I talked about how writing on my arm good things helped me to be more optimistic about my day. So, I thought I would give you some ideas of what to write. One for each day of this month!

You can also use these as life mottos!

We are gonna go from “the simpler the best” to books and music quotes:

  1. be positive.
  2. be optimistic.
  3. “At the end day, we can all endure much more than we think we can.” Frida Kahlo
  4. “If you’re lost, you can be found.” Bea Miller
  5. “If the world gets too loud, baby, you can rest your love on me.” The Vamps
  6. “Finding truth is like fighting heavy shoulders.” Trace
  7. “The fire’s in my heart is gon’ keep me alive.” Nico & Vinz
  8. “The fire in the soul got me ready to fight” Nico & Vinz
  9. “I just start to smile just for a moment.” Maverick Sabre
  10. “I gotta break the cage.” Helly Luv
  11. “I’ve still got a lot of fight left in me.” Rachel Platten
  12. “She knew that she would be okay.” Shawn Mendes
  13. “Soon the fog will clear up.” Shawn Mendes
  14. “I will survive and be the one who’s stronger.” Birdy
  15. “I’m reborn in every moment.” Selena Gomez
  16. “A moment of life. A dream. A laugh. A kiss. A cry. Our rights. Our wrongs.” The Temper Trap
  17. “I’ve got thick skin and an elastic heart.” Sia
  18. “I’m a hurricane.” Halsey
  19. “They say we are what we are. But we don’t have to be.” Fall Out Boy
  20. “So inside we rage. Against the dying of the light.” Ed Sheeran
  21. “There’s a hope that’s waiting for you in the dark.” Alessia Cara
  22. “You can’t have a better tomorrow if you keep thinking of yesterday.” Taylor Swift
  23. “Happiness can be found, even in the darkest times, if one only remembers to turn on the light.” Albus Dumbledore
  24. “Here the daisies guard you from every harm.” Suzanne Collins
  25. “Life’s not easy for unicorns, you know. We’re a dying breed.” Meg Cabot
  26. “You look like a protagonist.” Rainbow Rowell
  27. “Enjoy it. Because it’s happening.” Stephen Chbosky
  28. “Don’t ever tell me there is no way.” Agent Phil Coulson
  29. “You are someone. You mean something.” Batman
  30. “I can’t control their fear. Only my own.” Wanda Maximoff

Okay, lots of quotes for you to be inspired and motivated to look for good moments in bad days. (And I am sure I forgot a couple I wanted to put. Yay.)

Hope this helps you, even if slightly. Reblog and add your optimistic quotes because I can be quite obsessed with these!