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Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
Game of Thrones Daily
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@snoggingsnowbaz
its so shiddy when u have to convince yourself to do your hobbies. like, its fun, you like it, why cant you just do it. do it. do it. but what if.... mindless media consumption instead....
im so sorry to the seven thousand of you so far who relate
upset at the accuracy of these tags
the cruel choice between pdf (free) vs physical copy (annotatable)
and pdf (searchable) vs physical copy (read on couch away from screens)
Super fucked up that I can’t be a master-level expert in knitting AND woodworking AND silversmithing AND embroidery AND soap making AND spinning AND -
“Who would ever want to be immortal? Can you imagine the loneliness, knowing that there’s no one else like you, cursed to outlive -” shut up!! Some of us have shit to do and aren’t cowards!!
In good hands
A fic about Simon learning the truth for the Carry On Countdown
Lucy
The Veil has closed.
But there’s so much unsaid.
And I’ve found a crack.
Simon
At first I think the voice is just in my dream, but then I start to wake up and it’s still there.
“Simon.”
I spell the lights on to see Baz sitting up in bed, staring at me with wide eyes.
“What, Baz?” I groan, “I’m trying to sleep.”
“That wasn’t me.”
“Simon.”
Neither Baz nor I say a word, but the lights flicker off again on their own. The voice seems to be coming from everywhere. It’s soft, almost a whisper, and now that I can hear it better it sounds feminine.
“What’s going on?” Baz asks.
The woman appears between our beds.
Baz jumps back with a shout and normally I would have my sword ready by now but this time I know not to.
“Simon,” she says to me, like she’s pleading.
She’s short, and there’s a pale glow coming off of her but I think her hair is blonde. Her eyes are big and blue.
“I thought the Veil had closed,” I say warily.
“I had to reach you.”
“Who are you?”
She stretches a hand out to me, and maybe I was drawing nearer without realizing it, but I can almost feel it when she palms my cheek. “It’s me.”
“I don’t know you.”
“I haven’t much time.”
“Then tell me.”
She looks like she might start crying. “You are not the Chosen One.”
For a second, the globe stops turning.
“Davy chose you,” she says, her voice tearful. “He chose me. He said we were stars.”
“Wait,” I try to stop her, “I don’t know who you’re talking about.”
“He said we could change everything.”
“Who are you?”
She takes my hand in hers and I can just barely feel it. “I wish I’d been here, Simon.” She smiles through tears. “My rosebud boy.”
Baz’s intake of breath is quiet, but she spins around to face him.
“It was you,” he says to her, “not my mother.”
“No,” I tell him, “it was your mother.”
“Don’t let him,” the woman says, but she’s talking to Baz now. “Don’t let him hurt my boy.”
His brow furrows. “I know you.”
She grabs his hand in both of hers, and he flinches back a little but holds her gaze. “You can’t let him,” she begs.
“I won’t.”
“Who are you?” I ask one more time, my voice getting louder because she’s becoming translucent and I need to know.
She returns to me and kneels beside my bed. “My boy,” she whispers, pressing her forehead against mine, “my rosebud boy.”
Something about her eyes, about her voice, strikes a chord in me, and I think I know her.
“Mom?”
She covers my eyes with her hand, and for a second I can smell her, and she smells like home.
She’s gone when I open my eyes.
Baz
I’ve been back for hardly a week and everything is already sideways.
Snow and Wellbelove have broken up. Wellbelove has made several passes at me. I can barely sleep without being back in that coffin. The Veil has opened and I’ve missed a Visiting from my mother. Snow and I have formed a truce.
And now the dead are finding ways through the Veil to talk to him, apparently.
Snow looks… well, he looks like he’s seen a ghost, and I’m shaken enough that I probably do, too.
I can’t get her face out of my mind. I knew it as soon as I saw it, but I couldn’t figure out how at first. Then she spoke to me, and I knew her eyes, her mouth, the way her brow drew in.
Because they were him, and I know him like I know to breathe.
Snow hasn’t moved since she disappeared, and I’m starting to wonder if he even can.
“Snow?”
There’s a sob, and he clamps a hand over his mouth like it wasn’t supposed to come out.
I want to tell him it’s okay, that I won’t make fun of him this time, to just cry until he’s better, but I don’t know how to make any of these things not sound stupid. It’s clearly not okay.
And anyway, he seems to have given up on not crying, because he’s hidden his face in his pillow and I can see his shoulders shaking, even in the dark.
We’re silent, apart from the occasional sob from his bed.
Then,
“How did you know her?”
He’s looking at me, and his eyes are wide.
“There’s a photo in the Mage’s office,” I tell him, “of him, but younger, with some other students. She was one of them.” I don’t mention how chummy they look in the photo, or that I was only able to recognize her from how much she looked like Simon.
“It was her, that night,” he says, “talking through the Veil. She called me her rosebud boy.”
“Simon.”
“Don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t call me that.”
I frown. “I thought it was ‘Snow’ you hated.”
“You only call me ‘Simon’ when you’re afraid I’m going to break or something, like I’m a spooked animal.”
It’s a perfect opportunity to say something horrible (he’s already crying, I wouldn’t even have to try) but I can’t bring myself to hurt him right now.
“What should I do then?”
He’s quiet, like he’s thinking. “Come here.”
“Snow.”
“You don’t have to try and comfort me or anything, just come over here.”
I hesitate, but it’s like he’s drawing me in. He’s always drawing me in.
I push the covers back, cross the room, and sit cross-legged on his bed, facing him.
For a moment, neither of say anything. His breathing seems to have steadied for now. He doesn’t look at me, which is good, because that way he can’t see how I’m looking at him.
Then he scoots closer and places his forehead on my chest with a solid bump.
I huff out a chuckle because he’s ridiculous (and extremely cute).
“S’not funny.”
“I know,” I say, sobering, “I’m not laughing.”
“I need a living thing right now.”
You’ve come to the wrong guy, I think to myself but I know what he means. Someone who’s there, now, and isn’t going to vaporize at any moment. I’m momentarily glad that I still have a heartbeat, because right now he’d notice if I didn’t.
“Baz?”
“Hm?”
“I think it was my mother.”
“I think you’re right.”
“How do you know?”
“She looked like you.”
His shoulders start to shake again and his hands fly up to cover his face and that’s when I decide fuck it.
I wrap an arm around his shoulders and he responds immediately like he’d been waiting for permission, clinging to my waist and sobbing into my shoulder. My other hand comes up to smooth his hair and he’s practically in my lap now but I pull him closer anyways, and his grip on me is like a vice, tightening because he knows I’ll allow it.
“Shh,” I tell him, “breathe.”
He tries, but it’s like he can’t get a full breath.
“Hey.” I push him back but only far enough for him to meet my gaze. “We’re gonna figure it out, okay?” His curls fall into his face and I brush them back with my fingers. “You help me find my mother’s killer, I’ll help you figure out what your mother meant.”
“What if she’s right, Baz?” His eyes are wide and wet. “What if I’m not the Chosen One?”
“Then your life just got a whole lot easier.”
He chokes out a laugh, but it just turns into a sob and I pull him back to my chest. His hair is tickling my neck and it’s all I can do not to press kisses to the top of his head but even though this is so different than anything we’ve ever done, I know we’re not there, so I rest my chin on his head and try to convince myself that it’s enough.
I plan to get up as soon as he calms down enough to let me go, but even when his breathing slows his grip doesn’t loosen, and I think maybe he’s fallen asleep like that. “Simon?”
“I know,” he says into my shirt, “but don’t go.”
Wonder of wonders.
“Alright,” I murmur, “I won’t.”
He’s starting to sag in my arms, like the weight of everything has finally turned into exhaustion. I tip us carefully sideways so we’re lying down on his bed, and he seems to relax a little but he doesn’t let go, and I don’t think he plans to. I reach down with one arm to pull the covers over us, and we’re wrapped around each other like I only ever thought we would be in my wildest dreams. One of his legs hooks around one of mine, like he needs to bring every part of me as close as he can.
I don’t know how we’re going to come back from this, but I know I don’t ever want to.
At last, his grip loosens and his breathing deepens. The rhythm of his chest against mine is steady and I can feel myself slipping away.
Just before I fall asleep, I hear him.
“Baz?”
I only have the energy for one word: “Here.”
Maybe that was all he wanted, because he doesn’t speak again.
Maybe I’m delirious with everything that’s happening, but I’m feeling particularly brave.
So I press one kiss to his forehead before slipping away entirely.
Lucy
The Veil has closed.
I won’t be back.
But you seem to be in good hands.
A Thanksgiving gift from me to you. Of the many things I’m thankful for, I’m so grateful to have discovered @rainbowrowell’s Carry On and this amazing community. I hope you enjoy this series. It feels a bit personal for me, as there’s a bit of me in every expression on the page. So consider yourself seduced. ;)
Title: “Cross Every Line”
Description: The final scene of Chapter 64 from Carry On, in which Baz resists Simon - to no avail.
About the Art: I tried to use the sentence “I’d cross every line for him” as inspiration for this series. Throughout the comic, you’ll notice Baz’s inner monologue slicing through the panels as a means to demonstrate the power of Baz’s feelings for Simon against Baz’s facade. Hence, his thoughts cross lines all over the place. The panels themselves eventually succumb to this motif, with his memories of the night before cutting in so dramatically, they take up the bulk of the spread. The final spread pushes this theme to a resolution as Simon and Baz’s embrace is splayed across two panels, ending with both of them sharing the final panel together - and unlike all the other monologue boxes, which cut into the panels, Baz’s declaration of love is smack in the panel beside them.
I made sure to chronicle this process, so I hope to have that to share with you guys next week. Also, I know there are asks waiting in my inbox - I promise to get to them soon. :)
In the meantime, Happy Thanksgiving, American friends. And happy November to the rest of you.
Baz coming back to Watford:
Carry On Rainbow Rowell Chapter 62
Day 8!
writing playlist: on
google docs: open
mind: ready
it’s only just really occurred to me that we’re gonna get a Whole book of snowbaz?? like we had to wait 61 chapters for that last time but this time? we already got it
God truly does provide
Happy 3rd Birthday to my all-time favorite book! Simon Snow and Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch are my anchors and I have Rainbow Rowell to thank for them. I truly can’t imagine what my life would be like without this book. God knows how many times I turned to Carry On when I couldn’t deal with my reality anymore. This book has kept me alive ever since I read it for the first time and it continues to do so as I wait for Wayward Son. I am eternally grateful for Simon, Baz, Penny, Agatha, and all the other characters in the book who have taught me a great deal of things. I’m most grateful to @rainbowrowell for writing Carry On.
I find it very hard to believe that no one at Watford seemed to ship Snowbaz
You know that scene where the dragon comes to Watford and Baz sends it home? Baz is casting the nursery rhyme and getting tired, and Simon wonders why no one else is helping him, then he sees that every student and teacher is just watching transfixed because of Simons’s too-strong Your Attention, Please spell.
But not Baz.
Baz isn’t affected by the spell. Simon says, “Even Penny has given in, or maybe she’s as gobsmacked as I am” at what Baz is doing. How can Baz get around Simon’s spell to be able to cast the nursery rhyme spell at the dragon? I think it’s because he is always paying attention to Simon more than anyone else at Watford, basically 24/7, and he’s so focused on Simon all the time, that Simon’s spell demanding his attention is just a day in the life for Baz. It’s Baz’s routine to pay attention to Simon - he’s been in love with him for years.
i am like,,,,,pretty sure i just saw simon and baz guys holy shit. im at a park with my friend at the very crytpid time of 11:51 pm and i was sitting on a bench and i looked up and there they were. baz had a leather jacket and long black hair and Actually looked like a goddamn vampire and simon had curly orange-blonde hair and was wearing a fluffy red blanket and then i overheard baz complaining that he was cold and simon laughed and was like ‘aww babe’ and put his blanket over baz’s shoulder and they put their arms around each other and i died and then i looked away for a second to start this post and when i looked back they were,,,,gone. they had disappeared into the night and i was just,,,,shook.
not gonna lie, this is pure fanservice for @carryonsimoncarryon
fellas is it gay to make out with your self-sacrificing arch nemesis in a forest surrounded by fire
