Simon and Jace bonding over the horror of interrupting Magnus and Alec?
this is hilarious cause you sent me this 2 weeks ago and now it’s so relevant
at first it’s just slight interruptions, because jace interrupting them doesn’t just end there. it doesn’t end after he’s apologized for killing the mood and it doesn’t end after he’s finally settled into magnus’s space. no, it of course continues and it’s horrible because he just keeps doing it. they’re finally kissing and magnus’s weight against alec is so fucking sweet up against the front door. it’s everything he’s been craving, his fingers sinking deep into the muscles around magnus’s shoulder blades. magnus is kissing him like all of that anticipation rolling under alec’s skin, all stormy, is reciprocated, mirror image. and just as alec’s lips part, a low sound thick in his throat as he slides his hands down, pressing magnus closer… someone clears their throat.
alec goes still very slowly and as he does magnus gets the hint and pulls off of him. and it takes a minute but they glance over and there’s jace, with that same perturbed look on his face. “i’ve got to…” he points towards the door. and alec feels his jaw tensing up before it actually does. magnus makes a low noise of understanding, raising his brows and pulls away to open the door, letting jace through and alec just licks his lips, reaching up to rub at his forehead, trying not to allow the annoyance rumbling through him to take hold. but it does anyway and he shoots jace a glare as his blond brother heads through the door. magnus has this look on his face like he just swallowed sour milk and alec lets out a heavy sigh before he reaches out to try and pull magnus back in.
but magnus just chuckles, taking alec’s fingers and squeezing them. “i think the mood has been sufficiently killed.”
A/N: oh gosh I’m super nervous to post this lol I am actually really excited to participate in this challenge! The work I’ve read so far has been so so amazing, there’s a lot of wonderful talent in this fandom! – Thank you to the lovely @flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash for bringing us all together and inspiring us all to write & read such awesome works! xoxo : ) — FYI I’m not quite sure if my political facts are accurate I apologize in advance *I appreciate any & all feedback! hope you like it xx :)
After working excruciating hours at an internship that weeded out the rest, it left you as the last woman standing. Now, you were going to be working right under the most powerful man in the whole world.
You had to admit, this job did not sound ideal in the beginning. In fact, you even questioned your own feminist beliefs for even entertaining the thought of serving a man. However, your ambition was driving you to see past the title of your position, reminding you that you were working deep in the roots of the White House. Only a few people will ever see this kind of power first hand, and you were one of them. You had the rare opportunity to make contacts and connections along the way; connections that will surely help your own political career one day.
I’ve come out of fic writing retirement to write a fic for @bazinjeanstm! Happy Birthday! I hope this year is as amazing as you are! And I hope you enjoy this.
Word count: 3.8k
Warnings: Cursing, uh… mild angst? idk
Summary: (AU wear anything your soulmate writes on themselves appears on your skin.) Baz’s soulmate keeps distracting him by drawing on his hand.
It’s happening again. Lines are forming all over the back of my hand, starting at my fingers and working their way down. The blue lines bend and curl into abstract patterns. Then suddenly, they stop, only to have other smaller details added to them moments later.
It’s very distracting.
I sigh. Thank Merlin, Snow and Bunce are studying in the library today. I don’t want him to see me like this: distracted and daydreaming about the handsome artist who is going sweep me off my feet one day. Eventually. Hopefully.
hey! please may you write a simon imagine where your cuddle buddies and one night you can feel his boner pressed against you
I lay my head to the pillow, feeling the air bed shake a little underneath me. It had been a long night at the halo tower. There had been a party, and since Simon and I were both filming here tomorrow, it made sense just to sleep over. Since the flat was somewhat smaller than the sidemen house - and the one spare room was preoccupied - we had been left to resort to an air mattress on the floor.
It wasn’t an issue. I wasn’t a particularly high demanding type of girl, and would make do with what I was given. As for sleeping in a bed with Simon, this was no issue either; we were close friends, and not a lot was awkward between us. We were comfortable with each other.
Throughout the living room there was a draft, presumably from where the balcony was in front of us, the slight unchangeable gap leaving a draft. I pulled the duvet further up my body and pushed myself more towards Simon, who lay behind me.
“Y/n? What are you doing?”
His voice was thick with sleep and intoxication, and I smiled slightly as I responded.
“It’s cold,” I stated matter of factly. “Come closer to me, it generates body heat.”
He did not oblige, or speak at all, only moving closer and wrapping an arm around my midsection. His breath was warm and comforting on my back, and I placed my arm over his. However, it took a while for the cold to decline, and so I still could not control the shivering running through me. Simon pulled me in even closer so that my back was flat to his chest, his fingers running subconsciously up and down my goosebump covered skin.
“Oh god,” he spoke suddenly, startling me. I was not sure whether he was dreaming or not.
“Simon? What’s wrong?”
“Y/n…I think I can feel your nipples on my arm.”
I struggled to control the laughter, not wanting to wake the other boys. “I told you it was cold Simon!”
In an attempt to control the situation I began to wriggle slightly, however he grabbed my hips suddenly, his forehead pressed against my back.
“Y/n stop moving.”
He spoke desperately, almost groaning, and I turned to face him.
“What why- oh…”
As our eyes met mine trailed down, and I came face to face with Simon’s fastly growing bulge in his basketball shorts. I bit my lip to avoid nervous laughter as my face heated. We hadn’t faced this situation before.
“For fucks sake.”
When Simon cursed I couldn’t stop the giggles that fell from my mouth and he pressed a hand over my face to shut me up, his head falling into my neck out of embarrassment. I wrapped both my arms around his neck and brought him into me to reassure him, keeping my hips slightly further away.
“I’m so sorry,” he murmured and I giggled into him.
“It’s alright Simon, I get it. Was it the nipples or the movement?”
Author: @writing-obrien and @dumbass-stilinski Rating: NSFW 18+ Pairing: Dave Hodgman/Reader Words: 5,504 AN: This fic was going to just be Chloe’s but then I jumped in to help her and it became a collab. You’re welcome. There’s just not enough Hodgman stories in the world. Contains masturbation (both), Oral (female receiving), ‘Skype Sex’, inspired by Chloe’s truly embarrassing events at a pizza restaurant, except hers didn’t end this well.
She couldn’t really be counted as the ‘new’ waitress anymore, seeing as she’d worked there for four months now. But in those four months business had spiked. People just adored her service.
Parents admired how well she treated the children.
Kids loved when she brought over crayons and drawings she’d printed herself.
Staff took advantage of the fact that she did many tables at once, leaving them to stand idle and chat while still getting the wages.
Teenage girls relished in the times that she would make chat and give advice on everything from lipstick shades to what has the most or few calories in.
Teenage boys simply came for the skirt that she wore showed just enough to tease without being slutty, her legs on show and her top fitted, pens lined along her top pocket.
Dave, however, had entirely different reasons for being here. He loved how her smile lit up when she was left a good tip on a bill. He loved how her hair fell perfectly around her face when she would let it down after shutting hours, cleaning the tables and singing her heart out to the music blasting. He loved that she worked overtime at the little shop, so that he could casually swing back and say hi.
He loved her.
He also hated that he was so sentimental about it and he couldn’t just think like the rest of the male population thought about her. Which he hated too.
A/N: this was written for the prompt “it means go away in French” which the darling @iranau asked me to write!
Edit: I fixed all the French bits so it actually says what I was trying to say 😁
I stare at myself in the mirror, turning my head from left to right to make sure the wings of my eyeliner are even before heading out to get Agatha’s approval. Agatha and I have made up since the breakup and we’re much better as friends than we ever were as a couple. I’ve been hanging out with her a lot more recently (Penny’s busy studying for finals and hanging out with Agatha means avoiding Baz) and last night she insisted on doing my makeup, both of us laughing when I had blinked, smearing mascara all down my cheek. I liked the eyeliner though; so much that I decide to do it again today. I grin at my reflection in the mirror and ruffle my hair back a bit before giving up on that and leaving the bathroom. I find Agatha sprawled on her bed flipping through a magazine.
“How’s it look?”
Agatha looks up and a grin spreads across her face.
“Almost as good as if I’d done it.”
I smile at that.
“Now get out I need a shower.”
Agatha jumps off her bed and shuts the bathroom door so I slip out of her dorm room and sneak through Mummers House. It’s early so I can hear the sounds of other students waking and beginning their mornings but no one is out in the hallway yet.
I think about going to visit Ebb or find Penny but I know Penny will still be asleep and Ebb is probably somewhere way out in the fields so I’d be lucky to track her down. Instead I just head up to my room. Maybe I’ll try and do some homework or something. If anything I can at least see if Baz is up to anything sketchy and stop him.
The cloisters is even quieter than the girls’ dorm is when I sneak in. I shut the squeaky oak door behind me, pausing to listen for any noise before continuing up the stone steps to the very top.
I walk into my room and shut the door, loud enough to make Baz jump before turning on his desk chair to complain.
He freezes when he sees me, his mouth opening to say something as his sharp grey eyes rake my face. I freeze under the assault of his gaze, trying to prevent a blush and also smother the sense of pride at making Baz speechless. Finally he blinks, mumbling something that sounds like French before turning back to his desk.
It slips out of my mouth before I can stop it and I’m lucky that Simon doesn’t know French. He’s standing there in the doorway, rumpled clothes and messy hair. The dark eyeliner brings out the intense blue of his eyes and a burning fire ignites in my stomach at the sight of him.
I watch him narrow his eyes in suspicion.
“What’s that mean?”
I choke a bit, trying to think quickly. I’m not about to tell Simon I just told him to fuck me in French.
“Go away, Snow. It means go away.”
I sneer to add to the effect (and because I’m disgusted at myself for being so desperate.) It must have been believable despite besides my fluttering breath and hot cheeks because Simon rolls his eyes and stomps into the bathroom, slamming the door. I sink down in my chair and pull my shaking hands through my hair, sending all my thanks to Crowley that Simon can’t speak French. But finally saying something about my detestable crush on him lifts an immense weight off of my shoulders.
An idea rises in my head but I push it away with a shake of my head and turn back to finishing my homework.
A few days later I still can’t forget how it felt to tell Simon something true. Something honest. It was a rush of fear, but also relief at not hiding so much. The next time I pass him, I bump into him purposely.
“Je veux t'embrasser,” I mutter in his ear. I want to kiss you.
I watch as Simon storms off, anger clouding in his eyes and can’t help the smirk that grows on my face.
I keep doing this every chance I get. The next time Simon accuses me of plotting I tell him he has beautiful eyes. When he wakes me up at an obscenely early hour because he’s being so loud, stomping around our dorm room in the mornings, I mumble about his golden hair. When he’s fast asleep and I’m sitting cross-legged on my bed eating salt and vinegar crisps I tell him how much I want to trace all of the moles on his body.
All in French of course.
Baz hasn’t quit it with the sinister French comments. He’s obviously plotting something. Anytime he sees me he starts muttering with his low, rich voice. I hate him. But the eyeliner seems to annoy him, which just gives me all the more reason to wear it all the time. Whenever he sees it he stares, openly, and his voice gets even more venomous.
I’m drawing it on right now, looking at myself in Penny’s bathroom mirror while she studies for her linguistics class.
She’s on her bed, the brightly colored quilt bunched up around her legs where her textbook is balanced. Her fingers are wrapped around a mug of tea and have brightly colored polish on them, spelled to change with her mood. Right now they’re yellow. Happy, I think. She sips her tea while I apply my eyeliner. Agatha finally just gave me some. She was tired of me borrowing hers all the time.
I trace around my eyes carefully and stare at the mirror. Satisfied, I go and sit next to Penny, bouncing onto the bed and disturbing her careful setup.
“Simon!” Penny squeals, holding her tea up carefully, “you almost made me spill my tea!”
“Sorry Pen,” I say, reaching for her tea to take a sip. “Got enough sugar in this?” I ask, cringing a bit. It’s startlingly sweet.
Penny huffs and reaches for the mug, her skirt riding up to her thighs.
“Got enough eyeliner on?” she replies.
I roll my eyes.
“Baise-moi,” I say, mimicking Baz’s pronunciation.
Penny chokes and starts coughing, spluttering tea down her jumper.
“What did you just say to me Simon?” she says.
“Baise-moi?” I say, a little unsure. Maybe I’m saying it wrong. “It means go away in French,” I explain.
Penny raises her eyebrows.
“Who told you that?”
“Um,” I run my hands through my hair, a little embarrassed to say it was Baz. “No one. I just heard it somewhere.”
She rolls her eyes. “Okay well whoever told you that’s what it means was lying to you Simon. You just said ‘fuck me’ in French not ‘go away.’”
It’s my turn to cough and splutter, because no way did he say that to me. Baz hates me.
Penny doesn’t lie though. She’s not like that. I believe that even if I can’t believe Baz would say that that to me. Even if I can’t believe that has would like me.
This truth sinks into my body, a weight I can feel, sending hot waves through me like a spell.
Baz hadn’t told me to go away, he’d seen me in my eyeliner and said fuck me. What the fuck am I supposed to do with that?
“I- I gotta go Penny.” I say, getting up from the bed.
I have to find Baz.
I’m slammed into a wall as soon as I enter my room. It’s Simon of course.
“Yes, Snow?” I sneer.
His fists are curled around my football jersey and he’s close, so close I can hear his breathing.
“I’m onto you,” he says.
“Really? You’ve figured it out then? See, I was planning to take a shower when I came in here, not to be rudely slammed into a wall. So if you could let me go-”
“Baise-moi,” he says, eyes darting across my face.
I try not to react. I really do. But I can’t help it. My lifelong crush just slammed me into a wall and told me to fuck him. How can I not react?
Heat rises to my cheeks and I hate myself for stopping to feed in the catacombs before heading up here.
“Penny told me what it really means,” he says.
Panic rises in my chest, fluttering and angry. Blood rushes in my ears. I can’t help but notices how close his face is to mine. I could easily lean down and kiss him right now. Put my hands on his cheeks and pull him to me.
I push that thought away. I’m so distracted that I don’t hear his next question, or even realize he’s asked one until I see he’s waiting for a reply.
“Sorry?” I say.
“How do you say kiss me in French?”
It feels as if everything’s suddenly gone quiet. Nothing in the air but quiet breathless hope. I study his face. His blue blue eyes lined in dark kohl, staring at my lips. His freckled cheeks, blushed red. His mouth, parted in question.
Sooo it's pretty common to see Steve demand tony attend combat training, right? But what if at some point Nat decides everyone needs some spy training too. How to go undercover. How to break out of restraints. How to make weapons out of everyday things. How to get info out of someone. Etc. And I feel like tony would basically excel at all of these and the other avengers would have mixed reactions.
So, I kinda forgot to put any focus on the others reactions.. I just enjoyed writing skilled Tony who just wants to go back to the lab.
Can I go Back to the Lab Now?
“I don’t want to spar with you Steve.” Natasha says, and Steve hesitates. He’s used to dragging Tony into practice, but Natasha, this is new.
“Any particular reason?” Steve asks, she looks up from painting her nails, and waves them at him. “If Tony can’t use work as an excuse you can’t use your nails.” Steve says, Tony makes a soft oohing sound, but immediately quiets when she glares at him.
“Why do we always practice sparring, what about other skills?” She asks, and Steve blinks at her. “Escaping restraints, going unnoticed in public, using your environment to your advantage.” Tony raises his hand.
“I’m in, we should do that.” He says. Steve raises an eyebrow at him. “What? Sparring is boring Steve.”
“Fine. We’ll practice spy things.” Steve agrees, crossing his arms over his chest.
“After my nails dry.” Natasha says, waving her fingers at him again. Tony is running for the elevator before she finishes her sentence.
“Lab time! JARVIS fire up the fabricator, daddy’s got shit to do.” Tony calls. Natasha smiles fondly after him.
“Okay, Madame Spy lady, what are we doing first?” Tony asks, tipping an imaginary hat to her. She smiles at him, and it’s sharp. Tony suppresses a grin.
“Restraints.” She says, and Clint grins. This will be easy for him. Tony tosses her admantium strengthened rope.
“Cap shouldn’t be able to break that.” He offers. Steve glares at him. “What? I had to make it fair.” Tony says with a shrug. Clint laughs.
“Let’s get started. Everyone take a seat.” Natasha orders. Tony sits down, crossing his legs casually, and holding his arms out to her, palms pressed together. “Behind your back, Stark.” She orders, and then quickly threads the rope between the back of the chair. before wrapping it around his arms, and then uncrossing his legs to tie them to the chair legs.
“Can I escape yet?” Tony asks. Natasha rolls her eyes.
“Sure, you can try.” She says, and Tony dislocates his left thumb, pulling his hand out of the rope, and grabbing the knife off Natasha’s belt slashing the rest of the ropes off in a few quick movements.
“I tried.” He says mildly.
“What the fuck?” Clint whispers, and Steve nods.
“I’m going back to my lab now, JARVIS stream Cap’s attempt to me, I wanna see him struggle.” Tony says, popping his thumb back into place as he heads back to the lab.
“Unusual weapons training.” Natasha declares, flipping Clint to the floor, and holding a sharpened bobby pin against his carotid artery.
“Can I go?” Tony asks, glancing at the fondue fork that must have been left on the floor after dinner last night.
“No.” Natasha says. “Fight me.” Tony rolls his eyes, and lunges for the table, before shifting right and grabbing the fondue fork.
“I took out a robot with a fondue fork, I know what I’m doing.” He points out, and Natasha lunges for him a pillow slamming into his face to distract him, he jumps to avoid the attempt to knock him off balance, and jabs the fondue fork downwards. “Careful Tasha.” He teases, She makes a grab for the fork, and he let’s her, shoving the metal tip into an outlet just as she grabs on.
“Fuck!” She shakes out her hand, dragging him to the ground with her thighs. He taps out before he asphyxiates. “Ow.”
“I can’t beat you at sparring, but I do know how to use things as weapons Tasha.” He intones, “I’m going back to the lab now.”
“Fine.” Natasha grumbles, grabbing a bag of flower and launching herself at Steve.
“New challenge.” Natasha decides. “We’re going to SHIELD, everyone your goal is to figure out the code to Fury’s office.” Tony pulls out his phone, ignoring the rest of her speech.
“Peach17? Why? What does that even mean?” He asks, and Natasha groans. “What? I finished your task. Seriously, what does that mean?”
“Nobody knows.” She says, waving off the question. “We need to come up with a new task, the goal is to talk to people to get answers.” She grumbles.
“Oh, that’s what it means?” Tony mumbles, not looking up from his phone. “Who would have guessed.” Natasha attempts to glare him into submission, so he passes his phone over.
“Find out the name of the circus Clint was in.” She challenges.
“Carson’s.” Tony says easily. Clint glares at him. “What, it was in your file. I let you move into my house, of course I read your file.
“What don’t you know?” She asks. Tony considers the question for a minute.
“I still don’t know what TAHITI actually stands for.” He offers. She nods mildly.
“Fine, you have to figure that out, by talking to people.” She specifies. “No hacking, just persuasion.”
“I get it, sheesh.” He says, “See you guys in an hour.” He heads straight for R& D TAHITI is a science based program, at the very least someone there will know someone connected to the project. Also, R&D people generally like him so there’s no reason to pretend he isn’t Tony Stark.
Despite his expectations it only takes fifteen minutes.
“Fury asked me to consult on that project named after a beach?” He says, after looking over someones stasis gun. “Um, TAHITI or something, I can’t remember. Gosh, who was the lead scientist on that? Simmons? Simon? Sam? Or was it Fitz?”
“Stark.” Someone barks, and he’s dragged out of the room.
“What do you know about,
Terrestrialized Alien Host Integrative Tissue program?” The stranger growls, she’s attractive.
“I know that’s a mouthful.” He offers, and she scowls at him. “Not much, really. Fury asked me to consult.” He shrugs.
“That’s my project.” The woman says. “It’s wrong. They keep ignoring me though, they won’t shut it down. After Coulson, I though they’d stop.” It’s only now that he notes the fear in her eyes.
“I lied, Fury doesn’t know I’m here.” He admits. “Don’t tell him, I’ll figure out how to stop TAHITI, okay?”
“Thank you.” She says. He heads back to the team, it appears there’s a new challenge.
“This one should actually cause problems for you Stark, undercover work.” She smirks at him, he smirks right back.
“You would think so.” He says. “What’s the goal?”
“Purchase three items from three different stores without being recognized.” She says, handing each of them a list. First person back here wins. Tony nods, and heads down to R&D.
“Dr. Jones!” He calls, and she turns to him.
“Dr. Stark, how can I help you?” She asks, smiling warmly at him.
“I need someone to accompany me to the mall, for an Avengers training exercise.” He explains, and she blinks at him. “I’m supposed to go unnoticed, and you haven’t accepted any of the sports cars I’ve offered you. Nobody expects Tony Stark to ride in a Prius.”
“What do I get out of it?” She asks, crossing her arms. Tony laughs.
“I’ll increase your funding, and build you a better car.” He offers, and she follows him out to the garage.
“Still don’t want a new car.” She says, but she drives him to the mall and lets him drag her from store to store. Nobody expects to see Tony Stark in sweatpants running around the mall with a random women. (Leading expert in her field, but people are dumb)
“Are you sure you don’t want a new car?” He asks, as he watches Steve get swarmed by a group of Veterans.
“I’m sure.” She says, shoving him away. “I’m glad you won your dumb competition, but I have work to do.”
“Good, an excuse to get back to the lab.” He says, smiling at her. He taps his ear piece. “J, tell Natasha I’m done.”
Why the Malec Wedding Kiss is the Best Kiss in TV history (in my opinion).
you know, i’ve always talked about the wedding kiss and how great it is, but i never really stopped to pay attention. i’m now convinced it is the best kiss in tv history. honestly. looking at it from a different perspective, and not just as someone who loves malec. i’m explaining under the cut with pics & gifs.
well, let’s start with the obvious: it’s an interracial/bisexual/gay couple on TV. like for public consumption. i know they are not the first gay or bisexual couple on tv, but they are one of the most unique. (really who can say their tv show has an openly bisexual asian male warlock who is dating a recently out gay man who fights demons for a living?) keep in mind that all of this is in preparation for just one kiss.
moving onto the whole concept of the wedding itself. the reason it’s being done is to restore the lightwood family name. alec did choose to do it, but he most definitely would have been forced if he had refused. so, alec was going to marry a woman, a woman who knew he was gay. thank god that crisis was averted.
okay, now we’ll get into it. you can basically tell from the start that alec is totally unsure about this whole thing. it’s very visible in his body language and facial expressions (bravo, matthew daddario).
then we have isabelle, sweet dear isabelle. she’s against this and you can see it in her face because she knows alec is gay. she looks very reluctant to be handing over the wedding bracelet. (i would gif this, but). cut to alec putting on lydia’s necklace and we get to see isabelle once again. she’s trying to smile, but you can tell it’s so forced. she doesn’t want this for her brother. you see isabelle the whole time behind lydia looking like she wishes she could just end this.
then we have the so very awkward ceremonial procedures begin. that’s the only word i can say. awkward.
ah, and then magnus. the door’s close and everyone’s heads shoot up, facial expressions confused. then magnus walks into the room and it’s almost like you can feel time stop in that moment.
everyone is clearly confused, and alec’s mother is not even trying to hide her anger. isabelle breathes a small sigh of relief and we see a genuine smile on her face. jace is confused, and asks isabelle if alec invited magnus. we find out that isabelle did (thank you, izzy). alec’s mother rises and storms toward magnus, telling him to “leave this wedding now.” magnus immediately silences her and tells her that this matter is between he and her son, and he’ll leave only if alec asks him to.
now alec, alec is just standing there in shock. he hasn’t even moved his arm from where he was preparing to have his bracelet put on by lydia. his mouth is actually hanging open, his face reads complete disbelief.
there’s a lot of staring between alec and magnus, but each look has so much meaning. jace asks alec if he’s going to be okay, and alec never responds, cause he looks like he’s about to pass clean out. he finally breaks his stare with magnus when lydia calls his name. alec proceeds to tell her, “i can’t breathe.” now let me tell you, earlier in the show, magnus is telling alec what happens when you’re falling for someone. one of his quotes is, “you lose your breath every time they enter the room.” i don’t think alec has breathed once since magnus walked through that door. lydia thinks the comment is about her, but alec shuts it down almost immediately. he tells her that he can’t do it, he thought it was the right thing to do for his family, but it isn’t.
we now have a moment where lydia tells alec not to worry about her, he deserves to be happy (thank you, lydia). you can see alec preparing himself for what’s about to happen. he smiles nervously at lydia and then breathes audibly deep before turning around to face magnus once more.
ahem. now i would like to personally thank whoever did the music for this scene. “war of hearts” by ruelle describes their relationship perfectly and it fits so so well with the scene. okay, so now you can almost touch the tension it’s so strong. the anticipation is building inside of you. for a moment, just the piano is heard while they’re staring at each other and that’s when it hits you: he’s really about to do this.
there’s a lot of staring that goes on before alec starts walking, but he never breaks eye contact with magnus after he sets his eyes on him. you can see the moment in alec’s facial expression when he decides what he’s going to do. i’ll let you see it for yourself.
reminding you all now that all this set up is for one kiss. a very important, ground-breaking, earth shattering kiss.
alec’s walk is determined as he plows down the isle toward magnus. magnus has no idea what’s about to happen. he doesn’t know if alec is coming to yell at him, coming to tell him to leave, or what, but he certainly wasn’t expecting what was coming.
alec’s mother demands to know what’s he’s doing, and alec tells her one word: “enough.” he says this without ever looking away from magnus. and then suddenly, he’s in front of magnus and your stomach is flipping. alec grabs magnus by the lapels of his jacket and just goes for it.
it does not matter how many times i watch this scene, my stomach will always get butterflies and i will always smile. you see the reactions of everyone. jace & isabelle are happy, the silent brother is confused, lydia is happy for him, and clary & simon look pretty ecstatic). alec’s mother is pissed, and the dad just looks kind of embarrassed, i guess?
anyway, it doesn’t matter. what matters is how passionate the rest of this scene is. it is honestly one of the best television kisses i have ever seen. you can tell how much meaning this singular kiss holds. you can tell just how much this is going to change everything for them, but they don’t care.
magnus? he doesn’t want it to end. when alec breaks away, magnus chases after his lips and it’s a wonderful moment. the two make eye contact briefly.
then alec, well, alec goes in for more.
i’ve watched this scene more times than i can count and it never fails to give me butterflies. most tv kisses don’t do that for me. the preparation for the kiss is so so crucial and important and beautiful. it makes the kiss itself that much more powerful.
now, i know not everyone agrees and this was simply an opinion. but i thought that i would share. this kiss changed both of their lives. it was the start of their forever. i would like to thank matthew daddario and harry shum jr for the effort and love they put into these characters. without them, malec wouldn’t be what it is. they are simply incredible together and it shows (if you need more proof, watch 2x18). i suggest you watch the scene for yourself and really pay attention, it makes it so much more gratifying.
i’ll end this with a quote from my best friend who is a member of the lgbt+ community herself. i asked her what malec meant to her, and this was her response: “it means that it’s possible to just do what’s gonna make you happy in a relationship no matter how the people around you react. the fact that slowly, but surely, the people around them start to accept them and support them. despite the fact that alec ‘disappointed’ his whole family. this interracial couple defying all the odds and being together even when it means destroying their safe and comfortable world to strive for their own happiness is my shit.”
@snowbaz-feda Prompt: ‘Are you drunk?’ Genre: fluff Word count:2225 Summary:Simon comes home late one night and lays himself next to Baz in bed.He says things, but Baz is sure he’ll regret it the next day.
I come back from hunting, Simon isn’t there, which is unusual. I
wonder whether he’s followed me again, but I didn’t notice anything.
(Also, he hasn’t followed me for a few months now. I was glad about
the break, but I still don’t really get why.)
he makes me feel like I’m suffocating. Sometimes, I feel like I’m
drowning in a pit of despair. (And it’s not just because I’m being
dramatic – there are moments when it feels like I’m going to die of
the pain, of the longing.)
tonight, he’s not here. (I’m torn between missing him and relief.
It’s torture being in love with your enemy.)
lay down and stare at the empty bed beside me. The stars shine
brightly tonight and I can hear the wind rustling against the window.
I wonder what he’s up to at this time of the day. (Probably with
I hear something crashing against the door and jolt. Is this him?
(He’s clumsy, but not even he would make this much noise so late at
must be somebody who lives inside the Mummer’s house. I hear some
metal clashing together (keys?) and somebody swearing. Maybe it is
Simon after all?
it is, he gets the door open and stumbles in. I can only see his
slumped shape, his head hanging low. What’s wrong with him?
slams the door shut behind him and I wonder whether he’s angry. (At
me? I wouldn’t know why, but that says nothing.)
a moment, he just stand there in the middle of the room. He stares at
the ground and I stare at him. Then he lifts his head and his gaze
meets mine. The moonlight reflects in his eyes. He makes a step
forward and his lips curl into a smile. (Mood swings?)
he whispers, and he sounds high. And then he giggles. (Crowley.
Simon is casually hunched over on the floor when I walk into the living room, and he seems to be scribbling on something rather messily. He gasps when he sees me and immediately puts his hands over it.
“Baz! Don’t look,” he says, and then suddenly he glances around and slides the entire thing (a piece of paper on top of a clipboard) under the couch.
I cock my eyebrow at him and smirk.
“I was working on something and you’re not allowed to look.” He gets up off the floor and settles down on the sofa, just as Bunce walks in with a plate of scones and a bowl of biscuits.
“Ah, Baz, I didn’t realize you were here,” she says, handing the plate of scones to Snow. I sit down on the end of the couch and she sits at the other end, then awkwardly reaches behind Snow and pushes through his ridiculous, folded wings to offer me a biscuit from the bowl. I really don’t want one, but now I can’t refuse after she (literally) went through all of that trouble.
“What were you working on, Snow?” I ask, taking the biscuit and sitting it down on a coaster on the side table.
“I can’ tell ‘ou, Baz,” Snow says, his mouth full of scone. “Is a surprise.”
I roll my eyes, and Bunce giggles.
“As long as it’s not one of those cheesy Valentine’s cards you get from Clintons,” I say.
Snow glares at me, but I can’t take him seriously when there are crumbs falling from his mouth.
“Wha’s wong with cheeshy Valen’ine’sh cardsh fwom Clin’ons?”
“Quite simply,” I say, smiling gently at him, and I reach up to swipe a crumb off of his lip. “They’re lame.”
Snow sarcastically gasps, crumbs falling all around him, and Bunce giggles again.
“Probably because you never got any in school,” Bunce says.
I glare at her through a gap in Snow’s wings. “You probably didn’t get any either,” I say back.
“Fair point,” she says, and stuffs a biscuit into her mouth.
Snow is staring at me when I look away from her.
“You really never got any, Baz?” He asks. “Although, I guess I never saw any in our room.”
I laugh at this. “I would never have kept them even if I did.”
Snow glances over at Bunce, then back at me.
“So neither of you got any valentines cards?”
Bunce seems to be shaking her head. “We weren’t as popular as you, Simon. And I know you got a lot because I remember helping you carry the box of them up to your room in sixth year. You insisted we not use magic.”
“Look, Penny–,” Snow begins, but stops, and I notice through the gap that Bunce is looking at him fiercely.
“Simon!” she says, rather excitedly. “That was the year you got that secret admirer letter, remember?”
“Oh, yeah. I forgot about that.”
So did I.
“We never figured out who wrote it.”
Aleister Crowley, this is bad.
Snow is laughing. “We read it so many times.”
Fuck, Snow. Please stop talking.
“At least a dozen!”
You too, Bunce.
“What are you talking about?” I ask, carefully and calmly, although I’ve never felt this much embarrassment. This is one of the few times I thank my vampirism.
Yes, I wrote it. Yes, it was embarrassing. No, no one can ever find out.
“So in sixth year,” Bunce begins, and I know this situation couldn’t get any worse.
“Crowley! I still have it!” Snow shouts, and immediately jumps off the couch and runs to his room.
Bunce is laughing. I was wrong.
“So anyway,” she says. “In sixth year, after Simon made me lug up his ridiculous box of valentines cards, we found a letter attached to the outside of the bedroom door. It was from some mysterious secret admirer, who wrote in perfect cursive, and I had to basically read it to Simon since his cursive skills were atrocious.”
I smirk at this. “Typical Snow.”
Bunce nods and her phone buzzes. She pulls it out of her pocket and casually scrolls through it as she continues. “It was quite cheesy, and we read it so many times. They even quoted Shakespeare and Kierkegaard, which I thought was lovely, but Simon didn’t really seem to get it. He was obsessed with it for some time though, and we assumed at first it was from Agatha–,” I mentally frown at this, “–but she denied it multiple times. So then we made a list of people who could have sent it. Simon even went so far as to ask random people to write in cursive for him. He was obsessed.”
I snort at this. As embarrassed as I am, it’s a rather funny thought to imagine the looks Snow received from people when he asked them to do something so ridiculous.
“So what happened?” I ask. It was really the only question I could come up with that didn’t remotely give me away.
“Simon finally gave up. I mean, I think there was even a line at the end written in French.”
It was Greek.
“I mean, who writes in perfect cursive and just casually quotes Søren Kierkegaard?”
“Are you sure Agatha was just too embarrassed to admit it was her?” I ask.
“Agatha doesn’t give a damn about 19th century philosophers. Or cursive. Or foreign languages. And really, I can’t believe Simon kept that letter all these years. He’s never going to figure it…” Bunce trails off, and I know that I’m doomed. She sets her phone down and slowly turns her head towards me, her eyes gleaming.
I cock an eyebrow at her.
“I found it!” Snow says, waving an envelope around as he plops back down on the sofa. His wings are folded neatly behind him this time, and Bunce is staring straight at me. She mouths the words ‘It was you’, and really, her stare is so intense that I have no way of denying it.
‘Don’t. Say. Anything.’ I mouth back at her.
Bunce smiles maliciously and laughs. Snow looks over at her and shakes his head.
“What’s so funny?” he asks.
“Nothing, Simon. Why don’t I read that letter? Aloud.” Bunce smiles at me.
Fuck you, Bunce.
Snow takes the letter out of the envelope, and it’s so crinkled, like he’s held it countless times.
“Okay, okay,” he says, unfolding it and handing it to her.
Bunce takes the letter, smiles at me again, glances back to the letter, and dramatically clears her throat. But then, she looks back at me.
“Actually,” she says, and I know this can’t be good. “Baz writes in perfect cursive. Why don’t we let him read it?”
I cast a glare at Bunce so fierce, it could set a forest ablaze in seconds. But she deflects it like it’s a useless first-year spell.
Fuck you, Bunce.
Before I can respond, she passes the letter to Snow, who smiles at me. I curse that smile inwardly and take the dreaded paper. I glance it up and down a few times, also cursing my 15-year old self for writing such a horrid piece.
“Our life,” I begin, “always expresses the result of our dominant thoughts. And you, Simon Snow, are at the center of my mind.”
Bunce glances over and cocks an eyebrow, as if mocking me. I ignore her.
“Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind, and therefore is wing’d cupid painted blind. And you, Simon Snow, are the center of my world, my universe, and my heart.”
I’m cringing. And Bunce is giggling. But Snow is smiling at me, and Crowley, he looks beautiful.
“Don’t forget the last line,” she says.
“It’s in Greek, by the way,” I say. “Not French.”
Snow smiles even more and turns to me. “Baz! I forgot that you know Greek!”
Thank Crowley for Snow’s obliviousness. Because I was sure anyone else would have realized it at that point.
“Go on, then, Baz,” Bunce says.
I sigh, and stare at the last line for a long time. Not because I’m translating it (because I know it by heart), but because it’s so cringey to read the writing of your 15-year old self.
είσαι το κέντρο των πάντων μου,” I say. My Greek is still flawless. “You are the center of my everything.”
Bunce wrinkles her nose and sticks out her tongue. “Wow,” she says. “It’s even cheesier in English.”
“Shut it, Bunce,” I say, sighing. I begin to hand Simon the letter, and he’s just smiling at me. Crowley.
He takes the letter and stares at it. “Wow,” he says. “It sounds so nice when you read it, Baz.”
“I wonder why,” Bunce says, snickering, and I glare at her again.
“Well, we’ll probably never figure it out,” Snow sighs, folding the letter and carefully placing it back in the envelope.
Bunce pats Snow on the shoulder. “Oh, I’m sure you will soon.” And then, she winks at me. Winks.
Snow gets up and heads back to his room. When he’s out of earshot, Bunce turns to me.
“You will have to tell him sometime,” she whispers.
Hey hello so I’ve been making false starts on this idea for a fic for MONTHS now and I attempted maybe five different versions of it with vastly different storylines, none of which really worked, and in the end I just spent three days on this and meh okay here goes. Simon can’t deal with his feelings for Baz so he uses magic to repress them.
upset with me, because I didn’t ask her where she’d been. I think. She’s been
gone the entire day, and I just figured she had something she needed to do or
she was sick or she needed a day off, and I pushed it out of my mind, and I
didn’t say anything. She thinks I don’t care enough about where she is, or what
she’s doing. She thinks that if I like her, those are things I should worry
upset with me, because we’ve barely spent any time together over the last week.
She thinks I’m too busy following Baz around to care that I’m never around her.
She thinks that as her boyfriend, I should want to spend time around her. But I
do want to spend time around her. I just know Baz is up to something.
keeps nagging at me, because she thinks it’s weird that I don’t talk about
Agatha much. I don’t think she has a problem with it, but she’s convinced that
I don’t like Agatha the way I did in fourth year. In fourth year, I wouldn’t
shut up about her. I told her that liking Agatha doesn’t mean I have to think
about her all the time.
no, but it’s a known symptom,’ Penny said.
says it’s strange that Agatha doesn’t seem to get under my skin. The other day
Agatha got frustrated with me for botching up a spell, and Penny said she was
surprised when I didn’t seem really worked up about it.
because you guys know what my magic is like,’ I said. ‘Agatha’s just
frustrated, she’s not judging me.’
says I used to try so hard to impress Agatha, but now she thinks I’m just going
through the motions. I told her I’m trying to be a good boyfriend, and she said
I’m only doing it because it’s what I’m supposed to do.
you saying, Penny?’ I finally ask. I know she’s getting at something.
don’t think you two are that into each other,’ she says. ‘What she said didn’t
would I be pissed at her? She wasn’t trying to upset me. Not like when Baz says
things like that.’
It does bother me when Baz insults me. (Not
to mention the fact that he does it all the time. It’s his favourite hobby.)
barely hang out together anymore.’
I’m just busy…’ Following Baz. Trying to figure out what he’s plotting. There
have been weeks where I barely let him out of my sight.
never talk about her,’ Penny continues.
I talk about, then?’
sighs. ‘You talk about Baz.’
because, fine, she’s right. I probably do talk about Baz too much. I probably
do think about Baz too much. A lot more than I think about Agatha.
‘Where is Baz?’ I say. ‘What’s he up to? I need
to know where he is.’ I need to see him. I need to be around him.
Waking up in Baz’s bed is too soft to describe. Technically, I’m sure his bed is no softer
than my own, but now there’s another level of soft, one that goes beyond a
physical body-soft. Soft like my entire
soul is encased in cotton fluff.
He doesn’t open
his eyes, just smiles a little, and his sleepy smile has my heart
hearing him say my name, and in a
voice still heavy with sleep, is enough to have me swooning a little.
you still love me?”
pulls me closer and when he speaks his lips brush my forehead. “Today, tomorrow, every day after that.”
shirt is my new favourite smell and I bury my nose in it. “It’s funny, if you think about it?”
both told the truth yesterday,” I muse. “We
pranked each other every day except April Fool’s Day.”
chuckles deep within his throat. “We
really are pathetic.”
that makes us both April Fools, huh?”
for yourself, love,” he laughs, and I’m so gone.
“So,” Simon murmurs after a few more moments of silent
heaven, “is the game over?”
shrug with one shoulder. “Who won?”
I raise an eyebrow. “How?”
got you wrapped in my wings, Baz, it doesn’t get much better than this.”
dunno,” I grin, “I think I definitely won.”
scoffs. “As if.”
wrapped in your wings.”
I finally get to touch your hair.”
can make you blush without even trying.”
can shut you up by kissing you.”
yeah?” I pull back far enough to meet his eye.
“Care to demonstrate?”
laughing as he obliges me, kissing me gently like his lips are still sore from
the seemingly endless kissing last night.
I don’t remember having the strength to pull away long enough to climb
back inside the room, or to change into our nightclothes, but at some point it
must have happened. Between toothpaste
kisses and disbelieving grins. I’d been
a little afraid to suggest sharing a bed (I thought it might scare him away),
but he’d climbed in beside me like he fit there, like the spot had been meant
for him all along. I don’t think we ever
stopped kissing, just fell into place
and stayed there until the dizziness turned into dreams.
I mumble against his lips, soft like rose petals.
giggles. “What, Baz?”
“Do you still love me?”
eyes are a different blue every time I look at them, like the sky. Right now they’re the horizon just after the
orange leaks out of the sunrise.
kisses my forehead. “Today…”
my nose. “Tomorrow…”
my mouth, deep and long. “Every day
“Can you do a miniminter imagine, where deji or rice roast his girlfriend in a diss track, and him and the boys are reacting to it?”
Okay so it wasn't till after I wrote this that I realized I completely misread the prompt, but don’t worry I’m going to write a new one that is just right for the prompt! But thank you for being my first request! It honestly means a lot to me! I hope you like it.
“Simon, I told you not to get involved anymore,” you whined as you walked to the kitchen to grab some water, “It’s unnecessary and childish, you’re better than this.” Simon followed you into the kitchen quickly, “Okay but technically I was already involved in this, and he made a disstrack on me Y/N. What do you expect me to do?”Of course Deji dropped a diststrack on Simon, he has nothing better to do with his time obviously. All this drama was childish and pathetic to you. You rolled your eyes while you opened the fridge and grab a bottle of water, as you shut the door you turned to face Simon and crossed your arms, “I expect you to be the bigger person in this situation.”
Simon let out of huff of frustration and ran his fingers through his hair, “Y/N, baby, I need to defend myself. I can’t just let him get away with making a video about me and getting millions of views and subs from it.” You stopped listening to him and starting walking towards Simons bedroom, but as soon as he noticed you leaving he quickly followed you and cut off you; standing right in front of you. He grabbed your shoulders and gave them a light squeeze. You looked into his eyes and saw concern on his face.
You knew all this drama was upsetting him, even though he didn’t want to admit it. Simon always shut off his emotions and never really expressed what was wrong with him, one of the few things you have been working with him on. But you could tell that he’s been a tad bit sadder ever since all the JJ drama has started. Simon let his hands wander down your arms until his hands found yours, he gave both hands a soft squeeze while pulling you forward until your foreheads were touching. He closed his eyes and spoke softly, “What do you think I should do?”
You gave his hands a long squeeze and gave him a quick peck on the lips, “I think you should ignore him and move on, you’re a better person than him babe. Don’t let this bug you.” You felt Simon nod his head against your forehead, he let out a breath and moved away from you; “You’re right, but..” You gave him a confused look and tilted your head to the side, “But what?” He gave you a big, cheesy smile; “I can still make a reaction video right?”
You rolled your eyes and smiled fondly at him as he ran up the stairs calling for Josh and Vikk.
“Hey guys. So Deji has decided to drop a diss track on me, and I have decided to react to it, but for moral support I have the rest of the Sidemen here with me. Say hi boys.” All the boys wave to the camera and Ethan lets out a chuckle, “Lets hope this is worth our time.” Everyone lets out a murmur of agreement with his statement, “hm, probably not.” Josh adds, which gains a strong laugh from the other boys. Simon looks into the camera and claps his hands together gaining the attention of his peers, “So lets get started.”
Simon presses play and the music begins, you’re laying on his bed trying to distance yourself from all the chaos while still being able to know what’s going on. Even thought you don’t agree with everything thats going on its still amusing to be apart of. You were just scrolling through twitter on your phone with the track and boys comments being background music to you. Every now and then Simon would pause the video and the boys would let out a whole hearted laugh about how weak Deji’s bars are. It wasn’t until you heard your name that you started to focus more on what was going on.
And Simon mate, lets talk about your girl. Whats with all that makeup, what’s she trying to hide? If she ate all that makeup maybe shed be beautiful on the inside.
Simon paused the video once again but this time no one laughed, all the boys looked at Simon with wide eyes covering their mouths while Simon directed his attention all on you. You sat up from your position on his bed and walked over to where the computer was resting on Simons chair, “Replay that.” “Y/N..” You looked down at Simon and shot him a firm look, “Simon, replay it.”
Simon replayed and confirmed what you just heard, Deji made fun of you. Confused and shocked was how you felt right now, never once have you spoken to Deji. But apparently he thinks he has the right to talk about you in a negative way. Nobody spoke for a full minute before Ethan spoke up, “Well that was a weak worse wasnt it?” Josh nods his head in agreement and leans forward, “Yeah I mean y/n doesn’t even wear that much makeup, whats he on about?” Simon finally spoke up and leaned back in his chair, “Well obviously he ran out of stuff to say and just needed an extra verse.” The others nodded in agreement and let out a few chuckles.
You backed up from your position and made eye contact with Simon. You can tell he was annoyed at what Deji said, and you knew he was worried you were hurt by what he said about you.You finally decided to speak, “Simon.” Now all eyes were on you, Simon nodded his head, “Yeah?” You glanced at everyone before nodding your head and looking back at Simon and smirking at him.
Simon let out a chuckle and smirked back at you, “Already ahead of you babe.”
Summary: Negan finds a little girl, no more than ten, amongst a car wreckage, after finding out she’s alone in the world. He takes her as his own, raising her through the apocalypse. If there’s one thing that his greatest pride but also his biggest weakness, it’s his daughter, Y/N! Ratings/ warnings: Teen, mentions of blood and violence. I feel like, Negan as a dad is a warning. Writers Notes: This doesn’t really have a set plot, it will follow alongside season 6 & 7, I’m unsure if I’ll make it so Carl and reader have a thing. But… I got big feels seeing Negan and Judith.
Notes: I had this idea last year, I wrote a few parts and then forgot about it. Now here I am, uploading it because I miss writing Negan! - Rosalee
You were silent and nervous at the new place with Negan and his men. The night you arrived people looked at you oddly, even more so due to the fact you clung to Negan like glue. The only person you really trusted, trust was a stretch, he was safe. The morning after, he passed you off to a woman named, Mary. You didn’t see him for a few days after that.
Mary, whilst she was nice wasn’t safe. It was also boring, Negan’s policy of living was different to the one you had come from; you pull your weight, you are rewarded or something to that extent. Being the youngest out of everyone wasn’t fun, Negan allowed you time to adjust, meaning you had nothing to do but wait till Mary got back to her room.
You prided yourself on being adventurous. You used to somehow always manage to leave your mother’s overbearing side, a door which unlocked, wasn’t going to stop you from looking around. Negan’s community was in some kind of warehouse, huge and industrial, it housed many people; more than your last community. You didn’t see any harm in looking around, seeing exactly what this place was like. Stretching on your tippy-toes you opened the door, peeking out and then walking out into the cold corridor, shutting it with a little click before carrying on your adventure.
Throughout your little adventure, you had to hide, not to be seen or spotted by one of Negan’s men, you didn’t exactly know if you were allowed to just walk around and you didn’t exactly want to find out the answer to that question.
You came to door, the window looking out was shining sunlight, you smiled and pushed it open. The rays of golden light hitting your face instantly, warming you up a little. You walked out and see a line-up of motorcycles, various colours and styles, you also spotted two men with their backs to you. Leather jackets, jeans and talking loudly amongst themselves, you swiftly turned and walked around the corner of the building.
You noticed a tall, caged fencing, with a frown you stepped closer and through the panels of woods that reinforced the fencing you could see movement. You recognised that sound, the sound of growling and frustrated grunts, yet you still looked. It was some kind of obstacle course, various junk was scattered and those people admitted throughout.
Then from the right, suddenly, a man began to violently shake the fencing for attention. His clothes were just sweats, grey with a large ‘H’ spray painted on in yellow. He had this terrified look in his eyes, they were locked on you and he was panting heavily, sweating under the sunlight.
“Little girl,” he rattled the fence. “You gotta help me,” he persisted, “Open the gate, please?”
Stepping back, it made him rattle the fence in frustration. “Why are you in there?”
“Because I tried to leave,” he tells you, “they found me and brought me back here, please. Just open the gate, I gotta get outta here,” he begged and you nodded once but before you can walk a hand is placed on your shoulder.
It’s large and warm, judging by the man’s wide, shocked eyes you know who it is. You look up as Negan is giving a hearty smile to the man behind the fence, you recognise two of the men from a few nights ago beside Negan.
“Well, hello to you too, Bill,” Negan calls out, “I see you met our newest resident, Y/N, I hope you weren’t trying to make her open that gate. Get her in trouble, get her thrown in there with you, I’d hate for another life be on your hands.”
Negan was clean shaven, leather jacket zipped up and the same baseball bat in his left hand, he had a menacing grin plastered on his face. The other guy, behind the fencing, named Bill was clinging to the metal; shaking under Negan’s stare. You could hear the slight rattling of the fence under the white-knuckled tightness of Bill’s hands, you frowned at his terrified eyes, did he actually deserve to be in there?
“Mike, take Bill to his… room, I’ve got to have words with this little sweetie.” Negan grabbed your hand with his right, pulling you a little forcefully away from the caged area and around the building. A few men littered, watching guard and a few working on the massive trucks. “Where’s Mary?” It was a simple question, yet, you didn’t know the answer.
You lightly shrugged, still holding his hand. “I don’t know,” your voice was small and delicate amongst the loud noises around you. “I didn’t intend to get caught, you know,” he let out a loud chuckle at that.
“A little smart ass,” he commented before he stopped walking. “I didn’t put you in Mary’s care for you to wander off and talk to our castaways,” you look over your shoulder, trying to still see where Bill was kept and Negan chuckled. “We survive. We provide security to others. We bring civilisation back to this world. We are the Saviors.” He gestured around, the men all nodding, “And people who don’t abide by the rules, get punished, Bill, didn’t tell you that he ransacked our medicine, and killed three men in the process of him ‘leaving’. Fair punishment, fitting for his crime.”
You were silent for a minute. “Am I going to go in there?”
“No. Unless you break the rules,” he looks down at you. “I get it. You’re adventurous, curious about this place. It’s okay, I just don’t want you running around alone, not a lot of the men here are very forgiving if you get in their way.” You gave a little nod, “you’ll get used to living around here soon enough,” Negan name is then called, “I’ll have someone take you back to Mary’s room. No more wondering without supervision, got it?” You nodded and he did back before walking around you.
Two Days Later
“He has bigger things to worry about than a little girl,” Mary tells you walking through the Sanctuary’s corridors. “He’s busy still proving to everyone around here he’s leader, it’s a climb to get everyone to completely trust you, he has to be seen as alpha around here. He can’t do that with a little girl clawing at his leg, can he?”
Mary was a small, agile women. Blonde hair and kind eyes, it was easy to see why Negan trusted you with her, he passed you off to motherly figure. There probably wasn’t many around and she seemed to be the only one, so far, that wasn’t cold and horrible towards you.
“He’s trying to lead all these people?” You asked walking into the workhouse, she chuckled and nodded.
“Yeah, he has his second in command, Simon.” You remembered Simon, he hadn’t been around much. “Negan has outposts for miles around, a lot of the soldiers are at those with communities of their own. I was at one before this, I was brought here to look after you,” she nudged and you smiled a little.
There were tables all lined up, piles of either food or clothing on them. Mary had explained the point system to you, this was the first time you had seen it played out. It reminded you of the Flea Markets your mother used to take you to before all of this. There was a man dealing with medicine, another women with food and other necessities a human may need.
“Did you used to get allowances?” Mary asked you nodded lightly. “Well, this is that. You earn points and you spend those points on stuff here, it’s pretty simple and easy to follow, you have few that still try to get around the system. It’s our way of life, now yours!”
You followed Mary around as she got food, a few little things that she needed, she was nice enough to get a chocolate bar for you.
“Don’t wonder off, stay where I can see you, kay?” You nodded and walked around the large warehouse room.
The bustling of people, lining up for what they wanted or needed. You slowly strolled around, eating the chocolate, getting bumped into and pushed around because of how small you are. You peeked over a table, smiling at the man sitting behind it, clothes piled on the surface.
“You must be the new resident,” he amused. His ageing face was either due to the torment of today’s problems or just him ageing. “Must be a big change,” he sighed.
You nodded, “It was a lot smaller and I lived in a house,” he nodded, “and everyone shared what was found, you didn’t have to work or earn, it was given.” He perked up at that, “Maybe that’s why it failed?”
“Nonsense,” He smiled. “That sounds like our new worlds, a new paradise,” you chuckled lightly, “Who knows, maybe, one day that will happen here. I’m Martyn.” He sighed but stands up, you frown and turn seeing two of Negan’s men walking over, shoulders tense.
“Leftie,” The bald one called, “Wade needs new jeans, whatcha got?” Not even glancing down at you as he comes around the table, lightly knocking into you.
The man, Martyn, sighed. “Again? That’s his third pair this month,” causing the man beside you to chuckle at that. Martyn shifted through the clothes he had laid out, “in your own time, leftie.” It was only when he struggled to go through the clothes you noticed one arm, the other sleeve was pinned to keep out of the way.
“He’s going as fast as he can,” you speak up with a little frown, Martyn shakes his head at you but you ignore it. Both men look at another with raised eyebrows, “His name is Martyn, not Leftie!”
The shorter one of the two, light red hair, almost blonde knelt down. “Listen, little girl, let the adults take care of this.” He smiled, “Just cause Negan brought you here doesn’t mean you can mouth off, you don’t get no privileges.”
Mary came running up, closing her hands around your shoulder and giving apologetic smiles to both of Negan’s soldiers. “I am so sorry, I told her not to go wandering off,” you looked up at her as she glared down at you but shakes her head.
“Mary, I don’t want to have to tell, Negan, that you can’t handle the child,” He stands up and she nods once. “Teach her some manners, when to keep her little mouth shut, we then won’t have a problem.”
“Y/N,” you tell him and he frowns, “My name is Y/N, you give basic respect, you receive basic respect; what my dad used to say.” Mary chuckles and tucks you under her arm, a little behind her as the man glares at you.
Martyn butts in with handing the jeans, muttering apologies for taking so long. You were glaring at the two men who took the jeans, giving Martyn a few words before turning to Mary, looking her over once. Their scowls made your skin crawl.
“Well, little girl, you’re here because your daddy is dead. Got it? So, whatever that useless fuck taught you are now forgotten. You respect people higher than you, that’s about everyone in this goddamn place, ya hear?” You looked to the floor, the harshness of his words tugging at your heart. Mary gave a disapproving glare to the men.
“She’s a child,” Her voice laced with motherly venom, you had heard your mother talk with the same harshness a few times before.
“No, she ain’t. In this new world, children either get killed or get you killed, don’t let it be the latter Mary, I’d hate to see you killed.” Both men nodded at Martyn, glaring at your silently crying form before leaving.
Mary took you back to her room, wherein she over a few rules to you. Mostly, not talking ANY of Negan’s men unless, completely, necessary. Negan had already said that his men aren’t entirely sympathetic, you just didn’t really think of it till now. She also told you not to go walking around on your own, even Negan said that, but you needed to talk to him.
Mary had given you a brief tour, not that you remembered where everything was, but you had the general direction to Negan’s living quarters. You heard a few female voices, you peeked from behind the wall and see three women talking before walking through a door, you frowned and snuck up behind them.
Pushing the door open silently, it was a big room and it had just those women inside. A bar was settled in the back, lavish chairs and it seemed music was playing, you hadn’t heard actual music in a while.
“Y/N?” A loud voice called your name, it caused the three women to look at you, you gave a shy smile before looking to see Negan walking towards you. “I specifically told you to not wander around alone!”
He stops a little short in front of you, crossing his arms in question. “I wanted to speak with you, I didn’t know how to find you without wandering.”
Instead of answering, he leans forward and pulls the door shut and taking your right hand, again, leading you down the corridor away from the room. He came to a door where he opened it, it was a bedroom, you skipped inside and he chuckled slightly as you sat in one of the armchairs he had settled by the window.
He followed sitting in the opposite one, raising an eyebrow as you looked, incredibly tiny against the overly large chair. “What did you need to talk to me about that couldn’t wait for you to get Mary to bring you to me? Is it about Mary? What’s she like? I’ve known her since the beginning, I figured she’d be good for you. She had two sons; you settling in a’right?”
“Fine, Mary is great, better than most of the people here.” He raised his eyebrows at that, “your men are rude. They treat anyone who is ‘below’ them poorly,” you expected some kind of response but Negan chuckled. You often got that type of response from adults when trying to be serious, often calling you ‘ferocious like a kitten!”
Negan stopped chuckling, “Listen, kid. I get it, you came from a little community that worked like equals, honestly, I wish it could be that way here. But you got to establish that the men who go out and risk their lives for them, for me, even for you now, well yeah; they deserve a new level of respect. The soldiers, my soldiers, are excluded from the point system because they deserve that privilege.”
“But they’re mean for the sake of it,” you frowned a little and Negan sighed.
“I can’t help it if people are sensitive to that,” he shrugs and that made you frown more, “You gotta develop a thicker skin to survive. You gotta work for what you want, work hard in order to get what you need, I can’t always have your back. Mary isn’t gonna always be lookin’ out for you, I’m not either, you can’t just come to me because someone isn’t treating you like a child; you aren’t one, not anymore.”
You remained silent letting his words sink in. You hated to admit it but he seemed right, you couldn’t rely on him nor Mary, plus maybe you were too sensitive. Martyn was a man, you didn’t know and you stuck up for him, he probably doesn’t care about being called ‘Leftie’. You gave a small nod, Negan nodded.
After your talk with Negan, you remained quiet when around Negan’s men. You didn’t want to say anything to upset them, yet it seemed you had created a feud, the two soldiers from days ago had a grudge against you. On purposefully knocking into you, telling the workers to only deal with your points when Mary was with you; only Mary was out scavenging with a small group.
It was a problem, a real one. Yet, Negan’s words echoed in your head; you can’t act like a child and go running to him when in need, you had to handle this yourself. So, that’s what you decided to do, it wasn’t going so well.
“Mary is out, I need this now,” You try to sound stern but it comes out more of a plea, the women working the food table, the broth bubbling in the pan gives a sympathetic smile. The soldier, Smith, known by his last name because there are four other John’s was standing with his arm crossed. The shorter one from when you first met Martyn. “I have all the points together, I’ve been helping with laundry, what’s the big deal?” You asked.
“You’re a child, we can’t just give you things because you may or may not have earned it, your guardian has to do that for you.”
“You can’t have it both ways,” he frowns at you, “I’m either a child or not, you can’t tell me one week to learn to be an adult and then today say I can’t buy soup because I am not an adult, so what am I?” Your little rant caused the attention of everyone to turn, you didn’t realise your usually small voice was now a yell.
Smith didn’t like that, he stepped towards you with a new fire in his eyes, the mocking smile he had was now gone and replaced with a sneer. “Listen, you no good cow, you should have died the day Negan brought you here. In fact, he should have left you, but he showed all of us his soft side. No wonder he has to work harder to prove himself, he let a stupid bitch like you live,” you backed up a step, knocking into a table as he continued to stalk to you. “Yeah, nothing to say now, no one to stupidly look out for you too. Look around you, not everyone is gonna wanna save ya, not everyone is as stupid as Negan was on that day.”
“Or compassionate,” you say before you can think. “That’s what makes him good, better than you-”
Before you can finish a force so harsh knocks you off your feet. A deep pain is stinging your cheek, your whole face really, but mostly a burning sensation is stricken on your left side. Tears welling up in your eyes, you look up at Smith who is leering over your body as everyone around is too stunned to move.
“You really, really, shouldn’t have done that Smith.”
(So, long chapter, I know. Hopefully, everyone likes this. Totally am not hinting Mary is Mary Winchester, I kinda am, it’s funny too. Love me. Let me know what you think, that helps me lot. - Rosalee)
A/N: A Snowbaz drabble for @soecrates <3 Happy late birthday!!
Simon has never woken up before Baz. So he assumes Baz is at breakfast when he wakes up and goes to shower, humming an off key tune. He dresses quickly in the dorm and is about to leave when he hears a low groan.
Startled he turns to see a lump in Baz’s bed, moving.
“Baz?” Simon starts. He cautiously makes his way over and sees dark hair spread out over the pillow. The rest of Baz is hidden under a pile of blankets.
Simon considers leaving him there. It’s what Baz would do if he had slept late. But Baz is never late. It just doesn’t happen.
Simon slowly reaches out a finger and pokes the lump of blankets before quickly pulling back.
Baz groans again and rolls over, blearily blinking his eyes.
“What Snow?” he says, lacking his usual venom.
“Um, you’re late.” Simon says.
“Why do you care?”
“Then leave me alone.” Baz rolls back over.
Simon considers this for a moment, but he can’t shake the feeling that something isn’t right. Maybe Baz is plotting something. He’s doing this just to mess with Simon.
He pokes him again.
“What” comes the muffled reply.
“Are you- are you okay?”
“I’m fine Snow, just leave me ‘lone,” Baz has rolled back over to face Simon. His face is pale, paler than usual. Simon thinks it looks kind of green. And there are beads of sweat on his forehead.
“You don’t look fine. Are you ill?” Simon asks.
“I don’t get ill,” comes Baz’s reply.
Without thinking, Simon presses the back of his hand to Baz’s forehead. He’s burning up.
“Baz, you’re definitely sick.” He can’t just leave Baz here, ill. What if he’s dying? Simon goes to the bathroom and gets a washcloth, running it under cold water and wringing it out. He comes back to Baz and carefully lays it on his forehead.
He hears Baz sigh and his eyes fall closed.
Simon watches him carefully for a bit, to make sure he’s still breathing, then decides he’s done what he could. He leaves the dorm as quietly as he can and decides to head to breakfast; if he hasn’t missed it already.
He can even ask Cook Pritchard for some soup while he’s there. He’s related to Baz, so he’ll probably help.
Penny ignores him when Simon tries to talk about Baz’s odd behavior.
“Can we not talk about Baz for once?” complains Agatha.
“But he’s sick!” Simon says, “Do vampires even get sick?”
Agatha rolls her eyes as Simon slathers more butter onto his scone.
“Seriously, Simon. Shut up.”
“You have crumbs on your cheek,” Agatha interrupts.
Simon brushes at his face, completely missing the crumbs, before turning to Penny.
“Pen?” he asks.
“Yes Simon?” Penny mumbles, eyes still on her book.
“Do vampires get sick?”
Penny glances up at him before sighing and closing her book.
“I can’t say I know Si.”
Agatha sights dramatically and gets up, moving to sit with Trixie and Keris.
A bell rings signaling fifteen minutes till first hour. Simon has a free period that he usually uses to visit Ebb or sleep some more.
Today though, he says goodbye to Penny and goes to get soup from Cook Pritchard.
When he gets back to the room, Baz isn’t in his bed. Simon pauses a moment and looks around. He knew Baz had been messing with him. It was all a plot to make Simon feel bad.
He’s about to leave again when he hears retching coming from the bathroom. He quickly sets the soup down on his desk and runs into the bathroom.
Baz is curled around the toilet, miserable. His face green and his eyes dull. He retches again and Simon automatically moves, pulling Baz’s hair away from his face.
“Simon?” Baz asks. Even his voice sounds ill. It’s too soft and scratchy.
“Here.” Simon says.
Baz opens his mouth to say something but only retches again. Simon scrunches up his nose and does his best to ignore the smell of sick. He looks around and grabs a hair tie off Baz’s side of the sink, doing his best to put his hair up like he’d seen Baz do it. It’s lumpy and some stray hairs escaped, but it isn’t in his face anymore.
Baz groans and leans his forehead against the cool porcelain.
“Are you done?” Simon asks. “You know..” he trails off.
“I think so,” Baz says.
Simon takes Baz’s elbow and pulls him up.
“C’mon.” he says.
Baz complies, letting Simon lift him up off the floor and help him back to his bed.
He collapses against his pillow and looks at Simon blearily.
“Why are you doing this? Helping me?”
“Y-you’re sick Baz!” Simon stutters. “I can’t just let you be sick. Besides, I’m used to you plotting. My life gets boring without you plotting against me.”
Simon doesn’t actually know why he’s helping him. It’s probably something to do with how pathetic he looks. His eyes are dull and his hands are shaky. He’s nothing like he usually is. ‘You could almost forget he’s evil when he looks like this,’ Simon thinks.
Baz laughs and then groans, clutching his stomach.
“Are you going to puke again?”
“Good.” He takes the washcloth from earlier this morning and moves it towards Baz’s face, but Baz pulls away.
“Baz.” Simon looks at him, eyebrows raised. Baz stares back.
“Let me help you.”
Baz huffs but doesn’t move away again when Simon brings the washcloth to his lips and wipes them off. Simon does his best to ignore the fangs pressing into Baz’s bottom lip. He’s too sick to attack him right now; that was a problem for another time.
“Do you think you can eat?”
Baz shakes his head.
“C’mon Baz, just a few bites. You need food to get better.”
Simon goes to the desk and brings the soup over. He lifts a spoonful to Baz’s mouth and Baz glares as he accepts it, carefully swallowing.
“I don’t need you to hand feed me, Snow,” he says after the first bite. But he didn’t sound mean or bitter, just exhausted.
“Oh really?” Simon asks. “Fine. You do it.”
He hands the spoon to Baz and watches him try to steady his trembling fingers. After three attempts at getting a spoonful of soup Simon snatches it back.
“I thought so,” He says, raising another bite of soup to Baz’s mouth.
With Baz eating something, his fangs pop out even more.
A thought occurs to Simon.
“Baz?” he asks slowly.
Grey eyes meet his and he opens his mouth, then closes it, then opens it again decisively.
“Do you need, like, blood?”
Baz snaps his mouth shut so quickly he can hear his teeth clack together. The muscles in his jaw stand out as he clenches his teeth. He’s obviously uncomfortable, resembling a wild animal caught in headlights.
“I- I’m not going to tell anyone Baz,” Simon says quickly, hand on his leg in an attempt to reassure him.
“Not even the Mage?”
Simon hesitates and Baz scoffs, a bit of his usual self appearing for a moment.
“I thought so.”
Simon straightens his shoulders and meets Baz’s eyes.
“No. Not even the Mage. Now do you have like an extra storage of blood or something for when you get sick?”
“Vampires don’t get sick, Snow. I’m already half dead.”
“Okay… but you’re sick now.”
“Shut up Snow.” Baz turns away and Simon can’t help but notice how hollow and grey his cheeks are.
“Seriously Baz, I can get blood for you. Not from people or anything but-”
“Do you really think I drink human blood?” Baz snaps.
Simon stops. He doesn’t know what to say. Baz is a vampire and he’s evil. Why wouldn’t he?
“Of course I don’t,” Baz continues. “Why do you think I’m in the catacombs all the time?”
“…Right.” Simon says. “Listen I’m sure Penny knows a spell or something that can-”
“No.” Baz swallows. “No one else can know, okay?”
Simon looks at Baz, yet Baz doesn’t budge.
Baz finally drifts off into a restless sleep. His eyes flutter and he cries out occasionally but he seems to not be dying so Simon heads down to the catacombs.
Simon can’t believe he’s doing this. ‘And for my enemy’, he thinks. But right now Baz doesn’t seem like an enemy, or a monster. He seems like a boy. A sick boy. Who Simon feels a duty to help.
He shakes off feelings and thoughts of Baz and focuses on his task at hand. He pulls out his wand, not able to think of any easier way to catch a rat.
“Come out, come out, wherever you are.”
About fifty rodents scurry out from the walls and Simon tries not to shriek.
“Go down like a lead balloon!” he shouts.
The catacombs go quiet again.
Simon stares at the rat massacre and sighs, lowering his wand. Baz had better appreciate this.
He lugs about ten dead rats back up the stairs in a backpack he had brought down and sets it beside Baz, who wakes up immediately, nose twitching.
Simon watches as he tentatively opened the bag and peers in before glancing at Simon. His mouth seems suddenly fuller than it was a few seconds ago.
“Thanks,” Baz says. The ‘s’ drawn out in a slight lisp.
“No problem,” Simon says, shrugging and sitting on his bed.
Baz gingerly picks up a rat and then glances at Simon.
“You don’t have to watch this.”
Simon scoffs. “I’ve already seen you puke your guts out Baz. I don’t think this is going to change anything.”
Baz self consciously licks his lips and opens his mouth to protest but Simon cuts him off.
“I’m curious, Baz. It’s - It’s kinda cool.” Simon blushes and Baz actually laughs. He laughs.
Simon doesn’t think he’s ever heard Baz genuinely laugh. It’s loud and surprising coming from someone who is so full of glares and smirks.
“You’re crazy,” Baz says.
“You’re a vampire.”
“I guess we match.”
They watch each other for a moment, and Baz cracks a small smile. He must be loopy from his fever, Simon decides.
“Go ahead,” he says, “Do your thing.”
Baz shakes his head but bites down on the rat’s neck and drains it of blood. He gets through about three more before he zips the bag back up and sets it on the ground.
He watches Simon warily for a reaction.
Simon is leaned forward, fascinated.
“So, like, how often do you need to do that?”
“Shut up, Snow.”
“No, really. Can you die if you don’t get enough blood?”
“And can you control your fangs? Cause they’re not always there y’know.”
“I know, Snow.” Baz leans back onto his pillow and closes his eyes.
“Can you smell blood?” Simon continues, “Can you smell my blood? What do I smell like?”
Baz’s eyes remain closed. He’s quiet for a bit, but finally answers. “Like apples and cinnamon and smoked bacon.”
“So what you’re saying is I smell good.”
Baz cracks open one eye to see Simon grinning.
“Be quiet, I’m ill, I don’t know what I’m saying.”
He closes his eyes again only to feel a hand against his forehead. His mattress dips as Simon sits beside him.
“You’re fever seems to be down.”
“Mmm” Baz agrees.
“How do you feel?”
Simon is warm. He radiates heat, even through the blankets. Baz can feel him where his thigh touches his side.
“How cold? Cause you could be too cold. If you’re too cold that’s not good either-”
“Baz, seriously,” Simon continues, “What if you’re like the opposite of a fever. Like a cold fever,”
“Shut up Snow.” Baz blindly reaches out and tugs on Simon’s arm. Simon loses his balance and falls against Baz’s chest.
Baz keeps his eyes closed. He has to. He can feel Simons breath against his cheek. Simon is so warm. Like a down blanket. But with harder edges and elbows and knees. Simon sucks in a breath as he’s pressed against Baz’s chest. Even sick, Baz doesn’t feel all that weak. He feels firm and unbreakable, and not like an enemy at all.
“…Baz?” Simon asks.
“Stay,” Baz mumbles drowsily.
“What? Are you sure?”
“Okay, fine. Just to make sure you don’t get an opposite fever,” Simon says. He pushes away all the thoughts trying to race through his mind, determined just to enjoy this. Baz would probably push him away once he woke up and felt better, but for now, Simon could do what Baz wants.
“Mmm,” Baz hums.
“At least let me under the covers though.”
Baz, sleepily, feels Simon crawl over him and get under the covers before slowly wrapping his arms around him. Baz snuggles up to him, to tired to think or care about what he’s doing. Simon doesn’t protest, actually seeming to relax against him.
“Sleep well, Baz,” he whispers softly. Baz’s back is nestled against Simon’s chest and he can feel every breath Baz takes. He likes him here, Simon decides. He doesn’t have to worry about where Baz is and what he’s plotting when he’s right next to him. Simon’s eyes start to close and his breathing evens out to match Baz’s as he falls asleep.
Character(s): Negan x Reader x Simon (pre-apocalypse) Summary: Negan and Simon see you having coffee with one of your classmates. Word Count: 7,618 Warning: SMUT!!! (Angry sex, masturbation, voyeurism, and dirty talk) Author’s Note: Man, oh man. I am having so much fun writing this. I hope everyone that is reading this is enjoying it just as much as I am writing it!! Enjoy!!! :)
After a week of non-stop working
at both bars, it was finally your day off. Negan and Simon made your second job
much easier and you quickly learned all the drinks at Simon’s bar. Business was
booming in both businesses and it seemed like the ongoing feud between Chris
and Simon was slowly dissipating.
You managed to sleep in until
ten-thirty in the morning. As usual, you reached for your phone to look through
your emails and unread text messages. Your classmate in one of your classes had
sent a message to meet up later today for a cup of coffee. You agreed.
Though, as you continued to read
through your messages, you noticed the group chat that you shared with Negan
and Simon. It seemed like both men had sent pictures to you. You giggled,
simply because Negan and Simon taking photos of their breakfast was a bit
Negan: Breakfast is
fucking served. Simon: Omelette? That’s
what you made? Negan: What the fuck did
you make then? Simon: [picture message
sent] Negan: Pancakes? What the
fuck? Who do you think you are? Gordon Ramsay? Simon: A woman loves a
man who can cook. Negan: I can fucking
You laughed quietly, deciding to
send both men a photo of you lying in your bed. You were lying on your side, a
pillow covering half of your face and the blanket up to your shoulders.
Awaiting their reply, you decided to stretch your limbs before climbing out of
bed to make yourself a cup of coffee.
Summary:Simon is eleven years old and he has no friends and no family. There’s a voice inside his head that only he can hear, speaking a language only he can understand. And it may sound crazy, but that’s the only thing that keeps Simon from going insane. (Even though everyone already thinks he’s completely mental.)
OR soulmate au in which you can communicate with your soulmate/s in a language only you understand
Word count: 2263
Tags: soulmates au, a bit of angst (sorry), fluff, enemies to friends to lovers
For @bazinjeanstm HAPPY BIRTHDAY ANNA!! Hope your day was wonderful :) (And hope you like this)
Thank you @eroticgropefest for being my amazing beta, idk what I’d do without you
Ari’s challenge: I sort of “made up” a language for this but if you pay close attention you can actually understand it. Can you crack the code? (Hint: it’s Spanish-based) (Translations are at the end.)
It starts the same way great things always do: casually.
Simon is having lunch–or what the people taking care of him
consider lunch–with dozens of other children around him, all being as
loud as children are supposed to be, some even louder, thinking about how much
he wants them to just shut up, when Simon hears it for the first time.
Simon looks around him but no one is paying him any attention. Simon
must have misheard. He decides to ignore it and finish his plate, even though a
strange thought settles in the back of his mind: it kind of feels like the
voice has come from… inside his head?
The second time, Simon’s snuck out of his dormitory and gone up to the roof
again. He’s lying on the floor, looking at the night sky, when someone voices
“Éuq cheno nat tanibo.”
It is not a voice belonging to any person Simon knows. In fact, it
actually sounds like Simon’s voice.
Except, he hasn’t said anything.
Simon brushes it off again and keeps contemplating the stars, a soft
smile drawing on his face.
The third time he hears it, it strikes Simon that the language isn’t
“Bessa euq se ed lama cióncaedu rarnoig a
guienal euq et táes doblanha?”
And it should be English.
“Teve a al damier,” Simon
replies, jokingly, inside his head.
It should be English because Simon doesn’t understand any other
language, much less speak them.
But it clearly isn’t English. And Simon does understand it. (And speak
It doesn’t make sense. But that doesn’t matter – most things don’t make
sense to Simon, anyway.
Simon is eleven years old and he has no friends and no family. There’s a
voice inside his head that only he can hear, speaking a language only he can
understand. And it may sound crazy, but that’s the only thing that keeps Simon
from going insane. (Even though everyone already thinks he’s completely
I find the letter at the foot of my bed when I wake
I don’t know exactly
how to say this
I’ve been sitting
here staring at the blank page for ten minutes
Why did you have
to be the Mage’s Heir?
I wish this
didn’t have to be so hard to say
Crowley, this is
together all this time and
Bet you thought I
I don’t hate you
I can’t even
explain what I
Why did we have
to be enemies?
I love you Simon
He finds me outside the dining hall, and when he
storms towards me I see the letter in his hand.
I brace myself.
“When did you even write this?” I begin.
looks taken aback. “What does that have
to do with anything?”
why did you have to write it today?”
April Fool’s Day, Snow,” he tells me, “or did you forget already?”
just it,” I say, my voice getting louder.
“Why would you write something like this on a day where it could be a
exactly that reason.”
what am I supposed to think?”
gives me a look. “Think whatever you
want, Snow,” he shrugs, “I’ve made my move, just focus on making yours.”
glare up at him a second longer. His
eyes are gray and deep and almost sad.
mouth is right there, and his lips
look soft like his hair.
wonder if he’s noticed where I’m looking.
I wonder if he’ll reach up…
I’ll have to reach down…
I’m even brave enough…
I’m not brave enough.
step back while I still can, before I’ve been staring at his mouth too long or
before one of us closes the distance.
wish I had some sort of parting phrase, something more eloquent than “fuck
you”, but I don’t.
turn and walk away, feeling his eyes bore into my back, feeling that same
magnetic tension I’d felt when I’d left him to cry away his own nightmares.
wait until I’m around the corner before I start running.
Maybe a love letter is a lame April Fool’s Day prank,
but when else am I supposed to tell him?
When else would he take it with a grain of salt?
he didn’t take it with a grain of salt, even today.
hope it makes him hate me. I hope he
burns it in front of me. I hope he makes
me burn it with my own fire.
wish he would just break my heart and leave it at that.
the only thing worse than knowing he hates me is not knowing.
I could have kissed him.
I wanted to kiss him.
outside when I run out of breath and I lean against an ivy-covered wall before
pulling my phone out of my pocket and dialing Penny’s number.
Simon, what’s up?”
squeeze my eyes shut. “You’ve got to
almost kissed Baz.”
I find Simon sitting on the ground against a wall, and
the grass is wet but I join him anyway and wait for him to speak.
wrong with me, Penny?”
shoot him a look. “Nothing’s wrong with you, Simon,” I assure him,
“you’re just scared.”
I hate him, right?”
you have to ask me, then you probably don’t.”
I must,” he insists, “I always have.”
is this even coming from?” I ask. He
hands me a folded slip of paper. A
letter, and even though it’s not signed, it’s clear who wrote it.
was on my bed this morning.”
do realize this is probably a prank, right?”
that’s just it,” he sits forward urgently, “I can’t tell.”
I tell him firmly, “if he does feel this way, then what better day to tell you
than on a day you might not realize it’s true?”
why wouldn’t he want me to realize?”
I don’t know,” I scoff, “maybe because you’ve been mortal enemies your whole
life and he’s supposed to kill you and it would be bad enough if he thought you
hated him but even worse if you didn’t?”
doesn’t respond, weighing the possibility in his mind.
almost kissed whom?”
shakes his head. “I’m not really sure
you want to kiss him?”
a long moment before he gives the slightest of nods. “Why would I want that, Penny?”
a hand on his knee. “Oh, Si,” I murmur
sympathetically, “you know why.”
I only go to the room for a minute after lunch to grab
a jacket, but when I get there, there’s a note on my bed.
I love you too.
Of course I
do. How could I have doubted for a
second that I did?
I avoid him for the rest of the day, spending most of
it wandering the catacombs and when that gets boring, the Wavering Wood. I climb to the top of the highest tree I can
find and close my eyes, trying to remember how it felt yesterday.
know if I should be reading into the note or not, but that’s probably my own
fault. I did it to him, so he did it to
me, all on the one day of the year dedicated to practical jokes.
neither of us have actually said April
wait as long as I can to return to our room for the night, and by then it’s
dark already. Simon doesn’t appear to
have come up yet, but the window is open, so he must have been here since I
found his note.
stare at the window, something dark and long swoops through the outside air
venture closer, and it swings by again, but this time I see what it is. A dragon’s tail.
of me wants to yank it hard and send him tumbling (his wings would save him
anyway, no harm done), but I just poke my head out the window and find Simon on
the roof, his tail dangling over the edge.
in Merlin’s name are you doing up there?”
out I like high places,” he replies without looking at me. I should go back inside (I don’t have
anything else to say), but the sky is clear tonight and the moon is hitting his
curls in a new way and I could study them for hours.
are you looking at?” he asks when he catches me staring.
shake myself out of my trance. “Nothing,”
I say, ducking to retreat back in.
should come up.”
here, it’s a great view.”
can see just fine from here, Snow.”
but…” he trails off, still gazing out over the grounds, “I wanted to talk to
you about something.”
can come down if you want to talk to me.”
the fun in that?” He shoots me a shy
smile like he’s not sure if it’s allowed.
“Seriously, just get out here.”
peer over the windowsill to the moat. “I’ll
you won’t,” Simon scoffs, “I’ve seen you climb.”
won’t look at me again but I can tell he’s not going to take no for an answer.
look anywhere but down or at him as I scramble over the sill and up onto the
roof, not taking the offered hand but not slapping it away either as I might
have done yesterday.
almost-kiss and you’d think the world was turned upside-down.
settle into place beside him, anchoring my feet so I won’t slide down the
angled roof. It’s really not the most
comfortable position, and the night air is colder up here, but now that I’m here
I can see what he was talking about. The
Wood is like a quilt draped over the land and the hills roll like waves into
the distance. “Not a bad view,” I
would be a shame if I were to push you off the roof right now.”
should, just to prove him wrong.
Yesterday I might have.
haven’t we teamed up before?”
give a dark laugh. “It might have
something to do with being mortal enemies.”
that what we are?”
it’s no secret that the Old Families want me to kill you.”
why haven’t you?”
you getting impatient, Snow?”
had every opportunity, but even the times that you have legitimately tried, you’ve
ended up saving me.”
make a note to stop doing that.”
doubt we’d make a very good team, Snow,” I chuckle quietly.
looks genuinely curious. “Why not?”
think there has to be a certain level of trust in a team.”
raise an incredulous eyebrow at him. “I
sold you out to a goblin yesterday,
and now you trust me?”
seems that way.”
that’s the reason we wouldn’t make a good team, because of your horrible
just laughs. “You weren’t actually trying to kill me, and besides,
look how it turned out.”
mind jumps straight to the almost-kiss at the top of the tree and I’m suddenly
grateful for the darkness hiding my blush.
“What do you mean?”
killing that goblin,” he practically gushes, “that was incredible!”
shrug. “Goblins are stupid, it wasn’t
Imagine if we’d teamed up years ago, the Insidious Humdrum would be long
gone by now.”
boring our lives would be.”
wouldn’t have to be enemies.”
look down at my legs. “We’d still have
to be enemies.”
could be unlikely friends.”
glances at me carefully. “Maybe not,” he
agrees after a pause.
he could be alright with friends, but
I don’t know if I ever could.
Fuck the Families. Fuck the Mage. Fuck the roles we’ve been given and the parts
we have to play. Fuck it all. I just want you, Simon Snow.
did you have to write that letter today?”
know if I’m shivering from the cold or the question, or both. “I’ve already told you why.”
couldn’t you have written it tomorrow?”
cast him a sideways glance. “You know
that April Fool’s Day isn’t the one designated day of the year that I’m able to
lie to you, right? Saying it any other
day wouldn’t make it true.”
it were true,” he says slowly, “today
would be the perfect day to say it without the risk of being taken seriously,
shrug carefully. “I suppose.”
looks me right in the eye. “Did you mean
hold his gaze. “Why are you expecting
I trust you.”
right, I’d forgotten.”
doesn’t matter what I say,” I sigh, “you won’t believe me.” It’s the grave I’ve dug myself.
answer, just meet his eyes.
you ever consider,” he murmurs, “even for a moment, the possibility that your
letter would mean something to me?”
speak, I can’t.
that maybe my note wasn’t a prank?”
gulp. “The thought crossed my mind, but
it was too ridiculous to entertain.”
shifts fractionally closer but I can already feel the energy start to crackle
between us. “It’s not that ridiculous.”
are you saying?”
eyes are dark like indigo, his hair framed by the moon behind him. “I think…”
breathe as I wait for him to finish.
I don’t know if I can say it. Writing it down is one thing, but saying it
face-to-face, and this close…
eyes are silver, illuminated by the moon behind me.
“Do you know why I woke you from the nightmares?” he
says suddenly, and I want to slap him for changing the subject. (And then kiss his cheek.) (And then kiss his mouth.)
I was keeping you from your beauty rest?”
you were scared, and… it hurt me to
see you hurting like that.”
won’t look at me again, and I want to take his chin in my hand and make him
meet my eye, but I stay still and wait.
you had the nightmares,” he eventually continues, “you didn’t just say no a lot.”
already know where this is going. “What
else did I say?”
Figures. “I was afraid of that,” I nod.
ask what you were dreaming about?”
takes a long time for me to answer. “I
had to kill you.”
the thought brings tears to my eyes.
don’t have to…”
“Yes. I did.”
He’s silent as I take a ragged breath.
“That’s why it’s my worst nightmare.
I know I’ve been told all my life that I have to kill you, but if it
ever really came to it, I want to think that I’d be brave enough to
refuse. But in my nightmares, I always give in. Sometimes you kill me at the same time, and
then at least I know I won’t have to carry on living in a world without you…”
“After I woke
you,” he says a minute later, his voice getting quieter and quieter, “I hated
myself for what I’d done to you. I
wanted to comfort you, to hold you until you fell asleep again, but I was too
afraid. When I walked away, it was like
someone was ripping a piece out of me, and then I hated myself even more. I thought the feeling would go away, but it
didn’t.” He looks me in the eye, and he
looks terrified. “It still hasn’t.”
He’s only inches
away. There’s tears in his eyes to match
“I think…” Simon moves
even closer, “I think I meant what I wrote.”
My heart goes
quiet, but I’ve never felt more alive.
“I know,” I whisper, “that I meant what I
everything in me right now not to fall against him.
I don’t miss his
eyes as they flicker to my mouth and back up.
When he speaks it’s less than a breath.
He takes a handful
of my shirt and pulls me down to him.
Baz tastes like
citrus and wood smoke and I’m immediately lost in the scent. His mouth is softer than I could have imagined
and I want to be gentle, to move slowly, but I can’t stop myself from opening
his mouth with mine. I feel his sigh
vibrate against my chin as I deepen the kiss and oh, it’s not enough. I want
to hear every sound he has, to explore every inch of him, to stay here forever discovering. I know right now that I’ll never get enough.
Simon kisses me
like he’s starving, like he can’t get enough, yet he’s gentle. His mouth is slow and deep, and my hand is in
his curls before I even know what I’m doing, angling his head and moving slow,
like we have nothing but time. The tears
are spilling over from my eyes and I can feel the moisture of his own tears on
his cheeks, but we’re both kissing through our grins, giddy and desperate for
from him is like pulling the plug on life support, but he stays no more than a
“Are you shaking?”
“It’s cold up
here, Simon,” he murmurs back. “Not
everyone has an internal furnace like you apparently do.”
I grin and wrap
my wings around the two of us. “Call me
He presses a gentle
kiss to my mouth. “Simon,” he breathes,
and I can’t stop myself from pulling him in again.
Baz keeps whispering
my name between kisses, and I keep falling more and more in love with him.
Christian remembered watching you as you left the party. The obvious hurt, etched on your face as you got into the car with Kiseok. He felt so helpless. It was pretty obvious to anyone with eyes what was happening, but Kiseok was still trying to cover his tracks.
He couldn’t even pretend he was any better since it wasn’t like he didn’t have an ulterior motive. You were beautiful, fun, and he wished more than anything that he got your number that night…
It took you a few days to finally forgive Kiseok about his little antics at the event. But much like any other time, he charmed his way out of sleeping on the couch and back into your heart. You pouted as Kiseok clipped on a new charm onto your bracelet. “Don’t be mad Jagiya…” he nuzzled your cheek, lacing his fingers with yours. “You know you’re my girl right?” he whispered lowly in that voice you loved.
“I know…” you groaned looking at the little star charm on your bracelet. “Why do you only ever give me a charm after we fight? It’s never on an anniversary or something.”
“Because” he pecked your jaw. “We have more fights than we have had anniversaries and I like to spoil my girl.” he grinned against your skin. “Do you like it?”
“Shut up” you groaned, trying to not smile at that smug grin of his. He ran his hand up your thigh, giving it a little squeeze but you swatted him away. “I’m still not ok. That girl….she wanted you.”
“And? Does that mean I want her? I can’t help what other people want. But I can help what I want.” he smiled, caressing our chin and giving you a little peck. “The only thing I ever want.” kiss. “My one and only.” kiss. “You got that?”
“Yeah….I know…But still, I don’t like it…I hate it…why’d you have to let her touch you like that…?” you sighed looking away, pulling back just slightly.