#coc entry

[dragoneggos]

Countdown Day 30--The Beginning

and with that, COC 2022 is over!!!

this has been such a special countdown to me, and i’ve loved absolutely every moment of it, and i’m so proud of everything we’ve created over these past 30 days.

happy holidays everyone!! 🎄

@carryon-countdown Chapter 30 <3

[theotherhufflepuff]

Thinking about coc prompt "cooking/baking" and thinking about birthday cakes...

It has always broken my heart that Simon doesn't know when his birthday is. "They put 1997 on my papers" just fully stabs me between the ribs every damn time 😭😭😭

So I hope that, based on Lucy's letters and tiny scraps of information Simon has from when he was left at the home; Simon and Baz and Lady Ruth and Jamie are able to figure out that his birthday is in June. And maybe they decide it's on the 1st, or the 30th or the 15th; it doesn't matter. I just want Simon to have a real birthday where his grandma bakes him a birthday cake and he gets to celebrate with his friends and family and his boyfriend.

I just want Simon to actually know how old he is and to have people around him buy him presents and write cards and bake cakes and just love him, so completely. I want Simon to make up for the 20 - fucking twenty - birthdays he didn't get to celebrate before he knew his family.

[otherpeoplesheartachept-2]

Frost

Carry On Countdown Day 28

Pairing: Snowbaz

Length: 624 words

Genre: fluff, mild angst(?)

-

BAZ

It’s far too cold for me to be out here, but Simon insisted we see the snow as soon as he noticed the frost on his bedroom window. He’s just standing staring up at the flakes lazily floating down. 

He was so excited his coat isn’t even zipped. There’s specks of white in his lashes and melting on his tongue. Yes, he’s sticking his tongue out in attempt to catch as many snowflakes as possible. It’s ridiculous. The way my dead heart melts at the sight is ridiculous.

I’m just staring at him. Standing a little behind, wrapped in my heavy black coat and scarf and hat and gloves; I’m still cold. But I think I’d freeze for him. 

Watching your boyfriend watch it snow on the sidewalk outside his flat might be boring to most, but it’s lovely. It’s nice when you have time to waste watching snow fall. He’s been through a lot, too much; he deserves to rest for a while. 

After California and the second Watford disaster, life for the past few months has felt like an epilogue. We’ve circled back to Snow’s London flat.

It sounds dull, but, I never expected to get an epilogue. My story was supposed to end after Watford. I’m still wrapping my head around living past my teens, and living those years with Snow.

Our story hasn’t ended yet. We’re still pretty bad at all this, but I think now, with Simon back in therapy and both of us making an effort to communicate, we’re getting better. 

I step closer to his side and ask to hold his hand. Because I want to. He takes my gloved hand and I can feel his warmth through the layers of cloth between us. 

I give him a look, asking if this is okay. I had so much shame around asking for things I wanted or asking Snow what he wanted. I used to think if we really loved each other we wouldn’t have to ask; we’d just know what to do. I’ve learned that’s now how people work. That isn’t how this relationship works.

SIMON

I let him know I’m fine by squeezing his hand. I’ve never been good with words. My therapist tells me neglect in childhood can affect someone’s language development and that I should be kind to myself for needing time. She also said I can use nonverbal cues when I feel like talking is too much. It’s taken time and effort, but Baz is starting to learn what I mean when I squeeze his hand or poke his side or hum after he does something. 

I’m trying to learn to give Baz what he wants. I want to give him everything, the whole universe, but I’m so scared of giving him myself. I know he’d never push me, but he deserves all he wants and more. And I want things too. That’s new for me, the strong desire for romance.

I rest my head on Baz’s shoulder and hum. He kisses the top of my head, his lips almost as cold as the air. I love being close to him. Though we haven’t had sex yet. I blush at just the thought of it. We’ve come close. We’ve done so many things close to sex without me freaking out like the first time but, I have to work on myself some more before I’ll be ready. 

I never had to try this much with Aggie. But I think that’s because neither of us cared too much. It’s not easy with Baz. It’s working though. We are working together, and that matters more than it being easy. 

I’ve never loved anyone like I love Baz.

[waywardmages-blog]

Tap Tap...Tap

Crowley, I’m doing it... My first fanfic one-shot in a long, long, long time. Don’t smite me. I am going to try doing a few of these...

For Carry On Countdown 2019 (https://carryon-countdown.tumblr.com). 

Day 9: Patterns

Set at the beginning of Carry On before Baz’s return. 

Simon

He’s gone…He’s gone…He’s gone.

That’s all that has been going through my head for weeks. Every time I sit at the long tables of the dining area, surveying the scene for any traces of dark hair and a widow’s peak. Every time I fly (not literally) up the stairs to our room and stare at a pristine bed. Every time I wander the edges of the forest, treading as quietly as I can. Every time I skulk the catacombs, calling out his name.

He’s gone.

The more time goes by, the more it becomes real. The more it matters.

There have been times where I have yearned for his disappearance. Times where I’ve almost, and sometimes have, cried in frustration when I cannot bare the sight of him anymore. I’ve cursed him, I’ve tried to magic him away, I’ve screamed and bawled and used my fists but to no avail. Every term when I arrive back at Watford, he is there. Baz is always waiting to torment me.

Where is he now then?

I know he would never pass up an opportunity to ruin my life in some way. I thought he’d be back before anyone to gloat about him and Agatha. To ruin my relationship further. I could maybe look past it if she had been with him, I don’t exactly have the proof. We could pretend it never happened and just go on and get married and have powerful, beautiful babies like everyone expects us to. We could just get on with it. Still, Baz would want to gloat and push it in my face and try to completely tear any happiness away from me. So why is he not here? It was just before summer that I saw it happen – him and Agatha I mean - just before Penny and I were transported away by the Humdrum. The beginning of term is the perfect time to absolutely smother it in my face and set up the rest of the year to come. Plus, it’s our last year! Every moment away from me is a moment of torture completely wasted, never to come back.

He probably is plotting anyway. Whatever he is doing, he’s probably plotting my final downfall. The big fight. The one we know neither of us will win. That’s where he is. It has to be. He’s just preparing. He’s gaining an unfair advantage whilst I inhale as much food as I can and mess up every Magic word I have ever had to say. Despite being the Chosen One, I probably do not stand a chance against Baz.

So why do I feel so empty? Every day it is the same routine: Wake up, stare at his bed, go to breakfast, stare at the spot he likes to sit in, go visit Ebb, wander the length of the forest where he usually comes out of, have dinner, go to the catacombs and call his name, go to our room for bed, stare at his pristine bed.

Every day, every moment, is spent in an endless cycle trying to see if he has returned. Hoping the odd, puzzling void he has left will be filled by hearing the tiniest piece of news or seeing him across the room from me. I think at this point even the smell of his nauseating aftershave would calm me. Anything to know where he is…Anything to fill this void…and so I continue the pattern in the hopes that it will be one day filled.

Baz

Tap Tap...Tap.

Tap Tap…Tap.

Tap Tap…Tap.

Si-mon…Snow.

Si-mon…Snow.

Si-mon…Snow.

I tap the syllables of his name on the coffin’s lid. I hope somebody will someday hear it but if they do not, at least I have his name, the tapping of his name against the wood to soothe me, to remind me of what I need to get out of here for. For who I need to get out of here for.

[panickedcastiel-at-thedisco]

I don't have time to write anything, but hear me out: a Gentleman's guide to vice and virtue snowbaz au (historical style, day 15)

[mypreciousrosebudboy]

Carry On Countdown / Day Four / Fluff Day

The sun was warm against Simon’s face, the golden glow illuminating the spot on the couch where he and Baz sat together. Their bodies were pushed against each other, Baz’s head resting on Simon’s shoulder. Simon’s chin was pressed against the top of Baz’s scalp, his hair fluffy and soft against his skin. His chest was gently rising and falling, Simon watched Baz’s slow breaths with the same feeling of serenity as someone watching calm waves roll in on the shore of a beach. His hand was clutched loosely in Baz’s, whose cold hands cooled Simon’s sweaty palms. Simon pressed a kiss against Baz’s forehead, Baz peered at Simon through half-lidded eyes before giving him a sleepy smile and returning to his slumber. Simon closed his eyes and fell into a dreamless sleep, the heat from the boy next to him giving him greater warmth than the sun. 

[revolution-or-riot]

Day 1: Flower Shop AU

This is for the Carry On Countdown 2018.  The first prompt is a flower shop AU.  Hope you all enjoy!

“C’mon, Baz,” Simon whines.  “Why can’t we have real flowers instead of fake flowers in the house?”

 Baz doesn’t have an actual answer, he just likes seeing Simon whine, so he smiles, giving away what he’s doing.

“You bastard,” Simon giggles, walking towards the flower shop employee that’s been going back and forth from the storage room in the back to the part of the store Simon and Baz are in and placing flowers in the right places.  As he’s walking to the employee, he notices that the flowers have name tags below their vases that signify their meanings – just what he’s been looking for.  

Baz watches him as he picks up a bouquet of red and white roses and another of red and yellow.  Simon can see him smile out of the corner of his eye.  Baz places a kiss on the top of his head and reads from the tags. “Red and white roses, when given together, signify unity.  Red and yellow, when given together, signify happiness and excitement.”

“I want two more bouquets,” Simon says.  Baz follows him as he slowly reads the tags underneath each flower.  They both stop at a bouquet of Queen Anne’s Lace.  “It says they represent sanctuary.  I think our new flat should feel like a sanctuary for us.”  

“I sure hope it does,” Baz smiles.  “Can I pick out the next one?”

Simon shrugs.  “Sure.”

Baz turns around and goes back to the Make Your Own Bouquet area near the entrance.  He makes a bouquet with hyacinth and tulips. They look a little mismatched and he knows it isn’t the best bouquet ever, but the meaning behind the flowers fit how he feels about the moment.  

Turning back to Simon, Baz says, “Hyacinths for constancy and tulips as a declaration of love.”

Simon smiles wide at Baz.  “I’d hug you right now, but we’d crush all of these flowers.”

Baz tips his head back and laughs.

[rosaart]

Day 24 - stars

“By the time I get to the end of the next phrase, the room around us is gone, and the stars feel close enough to touch.” - Rainbow Rowell