say it penny

7

The Magicians + text posts (3/?)

4

a lot of the human tawog characters i’ve seen look kinda the same, especially for a show with such diverse characters, so i wanted to try making my own

(haven’t watched all the episodes though so some of the characters i don’t know/remember enough about them to make one)

Domestic Drabbles: 10 - You Shouldn’t (Part 3)

And now for the last chapter of part 10 (: I know we didn’t see much of Agatha in this one, but she will appear in my next few drabbles :D 
Enjoy (:


Simon

When Baz and I finally step out of my room, Penny and Agatha turn around and look at us from the sofa; Penny glaring, as usual, and Agatha staring wide-eyed.

“Did you two kiss and make up?” Penny asks.

Keep reading

Beautiful (Snowbaz AU)

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.

“I’m Baz.”

“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.

“You’re pretty cute too.”

A letter not for reading

Simon

Baz was looking intently at a paper. He hadn’t moved for a solid fifteen minutes. I am pretty sure that he didn’t notice that I came. I lean against the bedframe and look at him. I was trying to see if he was really frozen. He wasn’t. The paper has nothing but scratch outs. I take a step forward, causing the wood to creek. He suddenly spins around and gasp loudly. “You freak, why can’t you be this quiet in the morning?!” He yells at me angrily. “I was just thought you were possessed.” It came out as nervous. He freaked me out when he spun around so fast. “No such luck.” I added before taking the books from my bag. Penny scolded me earlier this morning, my grades have not been looking their best and Penny say it is because I am ‘obsessed with Baz’. I am not obsessed with Baz; he is just a dangerous vampire who I am forced to share a room with. Penny insists that it far worse to fail during the fifth year. How in the world am I supposed to focus on studying when Baz does things like this? He was plotting against me right there. He likes to write out his thoughts when he’s trying to do something big. During our first exams of the year, I found 3 planning lists. He crammed his schedule to the brim with things to do. He is inhuman and I am certain that he is plotting to kill me.

Baz

What in the world was I thinking? Why did I decide to write a love letter for Simon in our room? I am losing it. The fact that I am experimenting with methods to fall out of love is already ridiculous. I was trying to write a letter technically aimed at Simon. I did not ever intend to have him read it. I have not reached the level where reasoning is completely worthless to emotion. At least I haven’t yet. I cannot even write a simple letter, there is a chance that I am completely hopeless. Getting your feelings out on paper usually helps you understand them to get rid of them. I could not even do that. I feel so much. My feelings are complicated and there is so much I want to tell him. There is nothing that he needs to hear. I go into the woods because I needed to get away from the school. Every fucking corner is able to force me to think about Simon. I tracked down a wolf and spelled it frozen. I drained it dry and left it somewhere only other animals, who would eat it, could find it. I sat down on a large rock and pulled out the first draft of the letter and a pen. The first draft consisted of four crossed out sentences and frustration. There was a small pencil in pocket. It was too short to hold properly but throwing away a pencil feels ridiculous. I ditched the letter format and start writing out sentences. They grew and more coherent. Loose sentences became linked paragraphs. I grew tired and rolled the paper into a ball and put it in my pocket before heading back. I felt lighter. It eased the tightness in my chest but I discovered something I knew already. I am beyond any help.

Simon

Baz returned very late. I was considering leaving bed and go searching for him. I pretended to be asleep. I practiced it before. If Baz is a vampire, he must have good hearing. When he is asleep, I’d practice breathing at the same pace as him as he sleeps. I watch him when I am sure that he is not looking. I watch him strip. Pulling off his trousers, unbuttoning his shirt, hanging his tie. I was thinking that it was it, but I was wrong. He strips off his under shirt then pulls off his briefs. I cannot stop watching. He pulls on his pajamas over his nude body. I felt myself blushing. I really wanted to look away but it would give away that I’m not asleep. He soon gets into bed and looks at the ceiling. I find myself relaxing enough to fall asleep.

My dreams turned very bitter that night. I wish I could say I dreamt of fighting something or the Humdrum. Yet no. It was summer. It must have been after the first year because I felt small, helpless, and alone. I was in an orphanage. Everyone was glued to one window and I stood a few steps behind them. They were watching a small toddler who was holding the hands of his new parents. They were all sad but I was hollow. If a couple ever came up and decided to adopt me, the Mage would interfere and I would be taken to a different home. I saw them feeling hopeless. I had nothing to hope for. I’d remain unloved. Parents seem to have this unconditional and unfading love for love for their children. They hold them so tightly and tell them that they love them. It is also so much more than that. Kids love their parents doing their chores, feeding them, tucking them into sleep. Their love is shown more in those acts more than hugs and words. I envy them so much. They don’t appreciate it. I wish to be loved like them so much I was stuck in that moment. Watching that lucky child leave over and over again. I was miserable.

“SNOW WAKE UP! SIMON! Wake up!” Baz shook me. I gasped, waking up. I realized I was dripping in cold sweat. “What happened?” I fell back on the pillow. I felt more tired when I did when I went to bed. “You were trembling and mumbling something incoherent. I would have left you but you were to loud. Go back to sleep. If you wake me up again, I am kicking you out to the stairs.” He gets into bed and rolls away from me. I relax into my pillow but I feel bitterness in my mouth, wanting to cry.

Baz

Please don’t cry, Simon. I won’t be able to stop myself. After a while, he falls asleep again and doesn’t really heave nightmares again. I watch him sleep. I know it is not good for anything but I just want to protect his dreams.

I wake up, turned to him. I must have fallen asleep watching him. I’m exhausted. Fuck this. I roll in bed, tired. It is Saturday and he is making so much noise. I flinch when he spits in the sink, twice. I needed to sleep some more but when he finally left, I couldn’t sleep. I added a few lines of text to the rough and messy paper but then I wanted to make a proper one. I took one of my nicer papers. It was silky to the touch. I get a heavier black pen to write. I never use them anyway; I just hope it burns well. I look over what I wrote and started writing.

My Dearest Simon,

The world is full of hate. Anger. Resentment. We both get to encounter each every day. I know very well that I am a great source of such emotions for you. You, on the other hand, is one of the few things keeping me from getting consumed by such emotions. You are stupidly kind, brave, and loyal. Watching you every single day is excruciating pain because I want nothing more than protect you from what the world holds. I promise that in the end, no matter happens, I will protect you from myself. I will never truly harm you. If I managed to outsmart you or act quicker, I would regret it forever.

I am in love with you, Simon. When you are away, I think about when I will see you again. I hate when the Mage forces you to go and fight for him. I want you to be with me, safe and away from it all. I want to see you asleep and not always question if you are having nightmares. I want to see you eat after you always return so thin at the end of every summer. I watch to heal each wound. I want to kiss you when you are hurt. I want to sleep with you when you have nightmares. I want to tell you it is alright and that we will be alright. I want to talk you down when you get worried.

I love you, Simon. I want everything to be alright.

Basilton.

I sealed it and put it away to carry it to the fire place.

I did not notice how it fell out of my pocket and floated to Simon’s bed.

Simon

I get back late to our room. The Mage was chewing my brains out for hours. I wanted to talk about my dream but he did not really have the time or care. He said dreams are dreams and don’t mean anything. I spot something on the floor by bed. It could only be Baz’s. It was open. I got very curious. What if I get a clue to what Baz was plotting? I know I shouldn’t but I wanted to know. I felt like I had to.

I sat at the foot of my bed and started to read.

Netflix And Chill

Carry On Countdown/SnowflakeFaces November 27, Spells/Eighth Year

teehee

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“What about ‘supercalifragilisticexpialidocious?’”

Simon groaned from his spot on the grass. “Isn’t that from The Sound of Music?”

“Well, yeah.”

“I don’t think Normals really say that one too often.”

“Are you sure?” Penny pushed her glasses up on her nose, completely serious.

“Yeah, Pen. Nobody says it unless they’re putting on the musical.”

Penny groaned and flopped down next to Simon. “What about…”

“Can we just go get some more scones?”

“No, Simon. I need to figure out my spell. You should be working too.”

“I can’t even master a simple Stay Put, Pen, how do you expect me to create one?”

“You’ll figure something out. How about ‘I’ll be there for you?’”

“From Friends?”

“Yeah.”

“Again, I don’t think anyone says that.”

Penny groaned. “Don’t you know anything about what Normals say?”

“Nope. Let’s go get some scones and tea.” Simon pushed himself up and looped his arm through Penny’s.

She sighed, but followed him. Simon devoured seven more scones before Penny decided to go back to Cloisters. Simon walked her there and then braved his own dorm. Baz was there. Of course. The git was at his desk, studying.

Get rekt, scrub,” Baz whispered. A glass shattered itself, and Baz groaned. Somehow, Simon hadn’t been noticed yet. “Crowley, that’s ridiculous. Couldn’t the Normals choose anything better to say?” He flipped a page. “What’s a ‘ship?’” Simon slammed the door to alert Baz to his presence. He jumped. “Snow.”

“Baz.” Simon skirted Baz’s side of the room and plopped down on his own bed.

Netflix and Chill?”

Snow started. “Baz?”

“Yeah, Snow?”

“Um, what did you just say?”

“I said ‘yeah, snow.’”

“N-no, I mean before that.”

“Netflix and Chill?” Baz said it without magick.

“Yeah.” Simon was practically sliding towards Baz.

“Why?” Baz’s eyebrows furrowed and his high forehead crinkled.

“I don’t know.” Simon gripped the arm of Baz’s chair and turned him around.

“What are you doing, Snow?” Baz’s heart raced, but he only glared at the approaching boy.

“I don’t know.” Snow echoed. He planted an arm on either side of Baz, trapping him.

“Snow…” Baz warned.

“Baz…” Simon didn’t know what was happening. Maybe it was that damneded spell Baz had cast.

Baz opened his mouth but was interrupted by Simon’s mouth. Simon’s eyes were closed, long lashes centimeters away from Baz’s own. His lips were chapped, but still warm and somewhat soft. Simon melted against Baz, falling in his lap. Baz moaned, wrapping an arm around Simon.

They kissed for a long time, but no Netflixing occurred. They pulled apart once, at dinnertime, but after seeing the color of their lips, opted for a magicked up meal in their room. That same time, they shifted onto Baz’s bed, where Simon’s shirt was lost. Baz subsequently lost his.

It was late before Baz forced Simon away to feed. He came back, where Simon was still reclining on Baz’s bed.

“It wasn’t the spell that did it?”

“Hm?”

“The spell. Netflix and Chill. That wasn’t what made you come over and kiss me?”

“Oh, it was. It wasn’t the thing that kept me kissing you, though.”

“Oh. Oh.”

Simon grabbed Baz’s collar and yanked his face down. “Well, I guess I’ve figured out my eighth year spell.”