-all a bunch of pyromaniac nerds
-there’s only one otp
-not enough smut because everyone is so smol
-but when there is smut wOaH
-too many coffee shop AUs
-the writing is too good
-the art is too good
-it’s hard to get mint aero bars in the US
-what do you do if you’re allergic to cherries?
-heated intellectual discussions about the sexual orientation of a fictional gay wizard
-we are all Cather Avery (thus socially awkward social recluses who have dance parties and wear odd sweaters)
-is Agatha aro or is she meant to be with Penelope???????
-the ask blogs
-THE ASK BLOGS
-will literally message you to try to cheer you up if you even allude to having a bad day
-cries all day because snowbaz
There are days when Simon and Baz just don’t get out of bed.
They stay tangled together and giggling as the sun rises, playing with each other’s hair and kissing, and Baz spells the curtains shut. Simon’s tail waves lazily behind them, playing over Baz’s chest, and Baz snatches it out of the air and kisses the surprised yelp away. It’s sweet and it’s soft and the play fighting is such a marked difference from how it used to be that there’s a melancholy silence- they’re remembering mint aero bars and the crumbs from a bag of crisps brushed between beds, but they’re also remembering fights that ended in blood and magic so green it’s blinding. (Simon rolls over with his head tucked into Baz’s neck and he doesn’t miss it. Baz smells of cedar and bergamot and home.)
Sometimes Simon takes Baz’s hand and he tugs him out into the city, into little gift shops with cracked plastic charms and countertops as dusty as their owners but succulents so lovely and lush that Baz has to tap the leaves and smile. They buy coffee from Starbucks and tea from little vegan shops tucked nervously away, and they share dripping ice cream and kisses as the sun sets. It’s so sweet it makes Simon’s teeth ache beautifully, and he leans his golden head against Baz’s dark one. He never wants to let these moments go.
Some days are soft and others are jagged (arguments over silly things like tea cups stacked the wrong way, Simon clenching his fists so tight he realizes with a jolt he’s waiting for the surge of angry magic that will never come). Penny puts blankets over them when they fall asleep tangled on the couch and Simon learns how to clumsily braid hair when Baz’s gets long enough and they realize one day with a little jolt that Simon doesn’t tense anymore when Baz comes up too fast behind him. And then it’s the cup of tea waiting for Baz when he wakes up, and the way Simon can press and curl and breath next to Baz and Baz doesn’t feel the need to latch on and take until nothing is left-
One day they realize that suddenly love became love, and heady infatuation softened into something sweet, and their kisses aren’t battles anymore. And Simon hasn’t thought about the future but suddenly he can’t go a moment without imagining the rest of his life with his beautiful boyfriend.
There are days where Simon and Baz don’t get out of bed, hands tangled together and legs knotted like string. They talk and they laugh and they breathe each other’s breaths, gold against grey, dark against light. Their fighting’s over.
Most people only have opinions on certain things, but Baz has an opinion on everything. If I show him something, he either hates it or he loves it. He’s never just neutral. This means that Baz hates a lot of things. But, it also means he likes a lot of things.
Turns out, Baz likes a lot of strange things.
For one, he really likes Shakespeare. As in, really likes Shakespeare. I think he has major crushes on at least ten playwrights, but Shakespeare is out of hand. He can, and has, recited all the sonnets to me.
Baz sat quietly at his desk, watching the rain drip down the dorm window. He had decided earlier in the day to skip classes, opting instead to wear an oversized jumper and boxers while pigging out on mint Aero bars. Simon had woken up late, taken one look at Baz (who was obviously ditching) and promptly gone back to sleep. It was almost noon, and Baz felt equally disgusted and warmed by Simon’s sloth-like sleep. Baz sighed, feeling more melancholy than usual. The rain was his favorite, mostly because it reminded him of the warm nights he used to spend with his mother in the school’s library when it was stormy out. But even though he loved the rain, it also made him feel desperately lonely. He no longer had a person to giggle with when the thunder sounded, or to splash with galoshes. “Still raining?” Baz started and turned around. Simon was sitting up, covers twisted all around him. His bed head was almost painfully adorable, which made Baz look away in frustration, “Actually, since you fell asleep, a thousand years of rain have ensued. The humdrum cursed us all for eternity and you slept right through it.” Simon rolled his eyes. “I say one normal, innocent thing and you’re already being a sarcastic arse.” Baz stood, wiping chocolate crumbs off his jumper. “Old habits die hard. I guess I’ll go to my last couple of classes.” Simon scratched his head. “Why? We’ve already ditched most of them.” Simon using the word “we” set Baz’s heart speeding. “Because I don’t want to spend the day drinking hot cocoa with you Snow. Would probably entail a lot of sad orphan stories. “ Simon grimaced. “You’re fucked up Baz.” Baz merely shrugged, not wanting to deal with guilt. “You’re fucked up…but you should still stay.” “What, are you going to leave?” Simon lay back down. “Nope. But I won’t bother you with sad orphan stories either.” Baz really didn’t want to go to class and secretly didn’t want to leave Simon, so he paused. “So are we going to hang out or something?” ` Simon laughed. “Sure. Let’s hang out…or something.” Baz’s head snapped and he searched Simon’s face. It almost sounded like Simon was flirting, but his blue eyes seemed innocent enough that Baz let the thought go. “This is going to be so awkward.” “Only if you make it awkward.” Baz eyed Simon warily and finally sunk back into his chair. Despite Simon’s reassurance, he felt plenty awkward. Simon stared at him for a bit, sighed, and then plopped himself onto Baz’s desk. “So. How does this go? Do we watch bad American movies? Make popcorn? Paint each other’s nails?” Baz laughed in spite of himself. “You would be terrible at painting my nails. You’d probably make them a bright yellow.” Simon’s cheeks reddened. “No…I’d probably paint them black. I feel like it would look cool on you.” “I would look like a poster boy for emo kids everywhere.” Simon kicked at Baz’s chair playfully. “Says the boy wearing a cute jumper.” Baz felt himself blush. “My jumper is cute?” Simon looked down and picked at his nail. “Definitely too cute to be aggressively emo.” Baz sputtered a laugh. “Aggressively emo?” Simon grinned. “Be nice. C’mon, what do we do for rainy days in?” Baz noticed the use of the word “we” again. “When I was five I rather enjoyed candle lit hide and go seek.” Simon looked out the window. “But it’s still light out.” Baz pushed Simon playfully, feeling bold. “Yes genius I can see that. I didn’t mean we should actually do it.” Simon cocked his head to the side. “Unless…” Baz looked at him questioningly. Simon closed his eyes and tensed up. Baz could feel the warmth of Simon’s magic and smell smoke. Suddenly the ceiling and the walls looked like a starry night. Baz felt like he was back in the planetarium he went to when he was a little boy. “Can we play in this?” Baz couldn’t speak, he could only nod helplessly. “We need candles, I think I have two that Penny stole from the dining hall.” Baz cleared his throat. “I have a few.” Simon placed candles all around their room while Baz lit them with his hands. After that they briefly argued about who would seek first, but Baz gave in and let Simon pick because he was still overwhelmed by the beauty of his magic. “Ready or not, here I come.” Baz had picked a horribly unoriginal hiding spot, choosing to crawl under Simon’s bed. He heard Simon sifting through the laundry basket and grumbling moodily. “I really thought you’d pick that spot.” Baz stayed quiet, though he wanted to laugh. In fact, under the cloud of Simon’s stars, Baz wanted to do a lot of other things too. He felt his heart twisting, wanting to free itself out of his chest. “Have you always worn oversized jumpers?” “You’re quite obsessed with my jumper.” He heard Simon bang his head on the bathroom sink. “Ow! Well, I’ve never seen you wear an oversized jumper.” Baz didn’t take the bait; he smirked at himself while he watched Simon’s feet go in the wrong direction. “And well you don’t normally wear boxers around the room. Usually you’re already dressed in the morning or wearing pajama bottoms at night…” Baz tensed, wondering what Simon was talking about. “I mean you usually don’t want to talk to me. Usually you just leave. But I mean…” Baz saw Simon’s feet get closer. “Today you laughed at my jokes.” Simon’s feet were nearing the bed. “And…smiled at me.” Baz was breathing fast, and not because he knew the game was about to end. Simon’s feet paused at his bed. He clumsily got on the ground and peeked under. Baz knew he was blushing and was shocked to see that Simon was flushed too. “I found you.” He crawled under the bed and lay down next to Baz, facing him. Baz was shaking, trying to crush down all the hope that was building in his chest. Simon’s adam’s apple bobbed nervously. “Simon…” Whatever was in Baz’s voice must have affected Simon, because he breathed in sharply. Slowly, eyes hooded, Simon leaned into Baz and kissed him. Baz didn’t hesitate, didn’t stop to wonder how it was happening or if it would end, he just gave in. He kissed Simon back fervently, not caring that he didn’t know what he was doing, not caring that they were kissing under an old bed. Simon’s hands were pushing the fabric of his jumper up and up until it was off. He never thought he could enjoy the feeling of having his stomach rubbed this much. Baz grabbed hungrily at Simons hip bones, enjoying the way it felt to dig his fingers into his warm skin. Simon’s whole body jerked and then pushed into Baz forcefully. Baz, beginning to lose control, pushed back. He stared at Simon in wonder. “You found me.”
Are you a cherry scones or mint aero bars person? A pushing your significant other down the stairs or stealing their voice person? A vampire or a half-dragon person? A tries to set themselves on fire or kidnapped by fucking numpties person? A belt-buckle ‘wand’ or ring ‘wand’ person?
I just wanted to take this moment to say that the Mint Aero, through all the changes and upheavals of my life, has been the only chocolate bar that has consistently satisfied me, every time, since the first time I remember trying it when I was six.