Summary: Simon is this close to having a heat stroke--it's just so bloody hot. So he tries an experimental spell on himself, and hey, maybe it could be his eighth year spell! It worked, after all. Little does he know his spell has the opposite effect on his roommate...
So, in a delightful turn of events, I recently got together with some pals who are also TOTALLY NORMAL about Carry On. And we did our best to replicate afternoon tea at Lady Ruth’s house. And I thought it would be kinda fun to share the results (and some recipes, which are at the end under the cut). So, here they are, featuring:
Scones! (Sour cherry, ofc.)
Cake! (Chocolate with Chocolate-Orange Buttercream featuring a super respectful remembrance, Lemon Drizzle, and Classic Victoria Sandwich.)
Lavender Earl Grey shortbread cookies!
Finger sandwiches! (Egg & cress, Lemon and prawn, Caprese on focaccia, and Coronation chicken - all on freshly baked bread.)
A selection of teas! (Including Simon's Sour Cherry looseleaf blend, Simon Snow Tea, some proper English Breakfast, and of course Earl Grey.)
A giant slab of butter! (Fancy butter.)
A basil plant!
A crucible!
A sword through the table!
Special cameos by a Watford goat (wings hidden) and Prof. Minos (tiny fluffy edition)!
Sadly, no tea trolley, but we did our best to provide glamorous staging anyway.
It was pretty much the best, guys! Highly recommend. Recipes (including dairy-free versions for many treats) below the cut.
Chocolate cake with chocolate-orange buttercream (dairy-free)
Using this recipe for the cake, and this one for the frosting (instructions at the end for a chocolate variant). A hot tip is to use egg whites instead of aquafaba (they whip up much faster) and of course to add orange zest, per AWTWB ch 89.
Lemon Drizzle Cake (dairy-free)
Using this recipe, using vegan butter and replacing the self-raising flour with some flour/baking powder/salt ratio from the internet. Garnish with Kellogg's ICEE Cereal or any other weird cereal you saw at the store and couldn't resist trying, for a little visual flair.
Classic Victoria Sandwich (dairy-free)
Using this recipe, substituting butter with vegan butter, milk with a non-dairy milk alternative (ideally soy but in this case oat milk was used), and replacing the self-raising flour with the same flour/baking powder/salt ratio from the internet as above. Regular old granulated sugar can be used in place of caster sugar. Garnished this with some black raspberries, but any attractive fruit (or weird cereal) could be used.
Sour Cherry Scones
This recipe from the Joy of Cooking does the trick! Use the GOOD butter.
Lavender Earl Grey Shortbread Cookies
You can find the recipe here
Overnight Focaccia Bread
Lemon and Prawn Sandwiches
This recipe came from @cookingmywaythroughcarryon and there are tons more there for tea party inspiration, including alternate versions of some of the above, so definitely check it out!
We’re running a podfic festival called Caught on Tape for the Carry On Fandom! Any ship, any length, any experience level!
Some info on this event:
What is it?
A fest to encourage members of the CO fandom to try their hand at podficcing, and to get us more excellent podfic content.
Okay cool, but what’s a podfic?
Podfic is an audio recording of fanfic, read aloud by a fan (or several). The term is also used as a verb; someone may ask to podfic someone else's story, or spend an afternoon podficcing. Podfic is also known as audiofic. (Thanks Fanlore!)
When is it happening?
Podfics will be posting from October 29th to November 11th, 2023. Sign-ups for authors to give explicit permission for their fics to be made into podfics will open soon, and stay open until August 31st. Podfic creator signups will open September 1st and run to September 15th. A detailed schedule will follow shortly!
Who can participate?
Everyone! No matter your experience level or your recording setup, we want you! Watch this blog for helpful tips on podfic production. Detailed fest rules coming soon!
What rating can the podfic be?
Any rating may be created. We simply ask that no minors create podfics for M-/E-rated fics.
Which fics can be podficced?
Any fic, as long as the author has given permission. This permission can be given three different ways: (1) the authors will be given a chance to give permission for specifc fics of theirs in a list we’ll be maintaining (more details to come); (2) the authors can provide blanket permission on their AO3 profile or Tumblr to let podficcers know any of their works may be podficced; (3) a podficcer can reach out to an author directly to ask for express consent.
How many podfics can someone create?
As many as you want!
If anyone has any other questions, please let us know via ask/reply/dm!
More details to follow soon, please follow for updates and reblog to spread the word.
Hi friends, I hope you're all managing to stay cool on this hot hot Sunday. After posting my AWTWB exchange fic, I've jump back to More Than Friends.
It's actually in a pretty decent place and I might be able to get a chapter up before the end of the month now that work has eased a little.
Baz:
Creating enough space to fully stretch out means shifting furniture, and I’ve barely dipped into my opening child’s pose when Simon’s door cracks open.
I curve up into a cobra pose, arching my back and lifting my head as he appears with a sleep rough, “Morning.”
He’s all squinty, hair mussed and frizzed, and one hand is up under his sleeveless shirt, scratching his stomach lazily. My gaze flits to the exposed skin and then follows the fine hairs trailing down to the worn waistband of his flimsy shorts.
“You want coffee?” Simon’s hand and shirt drop with the question. When I lift my eyes to his, he gives a little tilt of his head and it’s so cute I could vomit.
Writing about yoga will probably forever make me think of @whogaveyoupermission 😆
Thank you for the tag @orange-peony! Tagging @you-remind-me-of-the-babe, @moodandmist, @cutestkilla, @whatevertheweather, @bookish-bogwitch, @skeedelvee, @thewholelemon, @captain-aralias, @facewithoutheart, @ileadacharmedlife, @shrekgogurt, @aristocratic-otter, @artsyunderstudy, @confused-bi-queer, @theearlgreymage, @hushed-chorus, and @erzbethluna.
I have been writing so. Much. Fanfic. Switching fandoms has truly done wonders for my writer's block and self-esteem. (I think I said that last week, but it's true.)
I'm still working on the fic I posted about on Wednesday, the one with the plot centered around Ambrosius' swears xD I am struggling through the last scene, but here's a little snippet of what I have written:
“Fuck, fuck, fuck. Nimona!” He pokes his head back into the kitchen. “Do you think you can occupy yourself outside the house for the day?”
Ze grins.
“No murder.”
Zir smile turns to a growl.
“Ugh, fine.”
Aaand yours truly is writing smut again! I haven't written smut in over seven months, I am just. Having sooo much fun. (Genuinely. I am greatly enjoying myself :D)
I haven't seen many fics where Bal tops, so I decided to fix that lol. Under the cut for spice! There is some (consensual) choking in this snippet FYI.
Bal pushes him back down, growling.
“Stay put.”
Ambrosius goes still, suppressing a shudder as another wave of arousal spikes through him. He attempts to control his breathing—he can’t come yet, Bal won’t like that.
Bal presses harder into Ambrosius’ throat as a reward, and he chokes.
“Look at you, gagging for it,” he spits. “Filthy whore.”
He spits on his cheek, and Ambrosius moans in agreement. He’s absolutely depraved—letting himself be degraded and debauched at the hands of a commoner.
Ballister may have a praise kink, but after everyone telling Ambrosius how wonderful and perfect he is for being the direct descendant of Gloreth, the guy definitely has a degradation kink.
My first piece for chapter 1 of Hot N Cold (rated M), my collaboration with @whogaveyoupermission for the 2023 Carry On Big Bang!
I was so lucky to be paired with Amy, because not only do I love all her writing, but this story has so many excellent thirsty Snowbaz moments that I couldn't choose which ones to illustrate! (So I just drew them all.)
A huge thanks (and props) to my lovely and talented partner who has been a blast to collab with, and some more thanks to the @carry-on-big-bang mods for running the fest!
Well what do we have here? Why, it's another piece I created for chapter 1 of Hot N Cold (rated M), written by @whogaveyoupermission for the 2023 @carry-on-big-bang!
Imagine my delight when I read the first draft of the fic to discover that there was a very sexy pool scene featuring a very wet Baz. I was blessed to draw Baz in a pool for COBB last year as well, so I can only assume it's my destiny, and one I am more than willing to embrace.
Thanks again to my wonderful partner Amy for making my wet!Baz dreams come true, and to the mods for running the fest!
(also, bbys, you have a right to bodily autonomy, make yrself at home in your body however that looks for you, gender is a choose your own adventure and I’m rooting for you, ily)
Baz has complexities that seem contradictory: he has self-worth issues and contemplates compliance (which is, like Simon’s heteronormative compliance, a fate that is tied to death) but in practice, it doesn’t mean he’s just going to take whatever and anyone’s shit. He has limits. The walls he builds around himself are there because he cares about protecting his heart. He’s not really “I’ll settle for scraps” kind of person, no matter whose scraps that might be. He’s not satisfied.
I think the common theme for him to accept less-than-ideal treatment is “people who love me and want to try their best.” When he’s taking his family’s bullshit, he does so with empathy and an understanding of these people as damaged individuals who are limited by their issues but do love him. People who, even when they saddle him with things they shouldn’t and make him feel like there are parts of him that are disappointing, still provided security for him. It seems like a contradiction, but where he felt like "the other," he also felt safe (he felt like "the other" everywhere; he didn’t really feel safe everywhere). He knows they won’t abandon him. (And as he grows into an adult, he starts pushing back and expecting better.)
He’s a complex individual defined by more than his love for Simon (I hate when he’s reduced to some sort of Simon-loving machine, willing to take anything no matter what) (or as more into Simon than Simon is into him when Simon can’t put half a thought together without bringing Baz up – they’re equally down bad). He has never been one to just let Simon do things that hurt him – he fights or pushes back in one way or another (but never harder than Simon can push back).
When Simon asks to be boyfriends, Baz isn’t jumping on his lap. Simon has to convince him, and he does so by letting him know he wants him (that he wants Baz even if Baz doesn’t want him back). That he likes being with Baz like this (he likes it better than fighting)."People who love me and want to try their best" here is replaced by "people who want me and..." because although Simon is already in love with him (and has been for a while) Simon himself hasn't figured it out yet, and it's too early for Baz to expect it, anyway (he can barely even believe Simon likes him).
At the worst of their relationship, Baz doesn’t fight or push back for the first time, and that’s only because he feels like it would be the equivalent of kicking someone when they’re down and completely incapacitated. Baz knows Simon is unwell. Baz is by his side because Simon told him he wants him – Baz fears he might not want him anymore, but he never knows for sure. This is a Baz who has only ever been assured that he’s wanted ever since he started dating Simon, and he’s seeing his boyfriend, who has been through trauma after trauma, struggle with his mental health. He’s not really “taking Simon’s scraps” – it's way more complicated than that. He’s desperate to help the person he loves, and he’s constantly wondering how can he get Simon to "let him in" without hurting him. Baz definitely has a problem with taking care of himself here – he will care for others before he takes care of himself – but this is not comparable to a "dude's playing around" scenario, or even the way that Simon was a bad boyfriend before (neglectful, uninvolved and disinterested because he didn't actually want that relationship). Baz knows that Simon is hurting in ways he can't help or control, that he’s not hurting Baz intentionally. And they’re together. There’s a relationship here (or they're trying to have it) and Baz is trying to be a partner (even if his approach is flawed).
When Simon truly hurts him, Baz slams the door in his face, both literally and figuratively. Simon has told him there’s no relationship, and has made Baz believe that he’s not wanted after all (“I hate the sight of you” is the worst possible thing Simon could’ve told him without fucking finishing the thought out loud to clarify the problem isn’t Baz but what Simon hated being reminded off). With an “I don’t want to be with you” Simon is kicked out of Baz’s "fortress." Baz's tolerance reaches its limit. All the barbed-wired defenses come up again. After this, Baz has to be convinced to take Simon back. He’s not just going to take anything because he loves Simon. He loves Simon more than anything and he will stand by him through thick and thin, but if it comes down to it, Baz will protect himself. Baz won't "set himself on fire to keep another warm" if it looks like that person is stabbing him in the heart while apparently meaning to (It's different when he tries to literally set himself of fire, which is more about his own suicidal tendencies reaching its peak rather than "sacrificing himself for love"). He doesn’t give a fuck about Simon’s reasons if it’s about guilt or anything like that.
The reason Baz takes him back is because Simon loves him. Nothing else would've done it. It's Simon telling him “I want to make this work because I love you.” He enters that group of people who love him and are trying then, even if Baz has trouble believing Simon loves him at first. And Simon loves him like no one else has loved him before: fiercely, unconditionally. He loves every part of Baz, even the parts Baz hates about himself. Simon loves Baz in a way that makes Simon want to work on himself, to be able to take care of Baz and make him happy. Simon loves Baz in a way that makes Simon not ever want to do anything that would hurt Baz (Simon can't stand to see him unhappy and wants to be the one who makes it better.) No, Baz doesn't take "Simon's scraps." After that period of total breakdown, the opposite happens. Through love, Baz makes Simon want to be better. He makes Simon want to give him everything and more.
Thank you for the tags @you-remind-me-of-the-babe, @j-nipper-95, @blackberrysummerblog, and to all the tags that happened the past week while my brain was melting at a work event!
I am SO excited to share that I finished my little baby one shot, gifted to @stardustasincocaine for the AWTWB exchange.
You can find it HERE on ao3 and enjoy a finally sexy snippet below the cut.
He rolls against me in response, cock firm, and wings a red canopy. They flap once as he lifts to sit, glorious thighs flanking my hips and boxer briefs hiding nothing.
I touch him, brushing a thumb along his clothed shaft, feeling the way his cock flexes. He hums low with appreciation when I drag over the head, but stops me with a firm hand over mine. Collecting me by the wrists, he guides my arms to my sides, then retreats back to sit over me.
From his perch, he looks down at me and says, rather firmly, “Stay.”
I’m continuing with writing SnowBaz for the fic about Mage the Massive Asshole, and they’re apologizing now!
BAZ
He chuckles, and turns to me, pointing at me threatengly.
“I apologised!” He says, smiling.
I brush his hand away, laughing.
“You thought it was evil!” I say, faking scandal.
“It was weird!”
“Sure. Because a poor, helpless drawer was plotting your demise. What had it done to you?”
He rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling. When he glances down at his fiddling hands, I sense guilt coming off him. It’s in the way his smile turns into a grimace, the way his shoulders drop with a sigh.
“You apologised to me earlier,” he says. “Apologised for the insults, the fights, the—Everything. But I didn’t get to tell you I’m sorry too.”
I am chugging along on chapter of 7 of How to Avoid a Scandal. Have some feels from Simon:
If there was anyone else around, I’d have a convenient excuse to pull him close and kiss his worries away. But since we’re alone, I can’t do that. I wish I could. I want to, desperately.
I think about it nearly all the time now. About doing it for real. What that moment would be like. How he might respond. Sometimes, I think he might even want me that way. When I kiss him and his lips linger on mine, or when I take his hand and he squeezes gently back, I think he’s trying to let me know.
I want this just as much as you do, Simon.
Let’s hope the writing muses bless me with bountiful words so that I can make good progress on the last two chapters of this fic. 🙏
It’s no longer Wednesday, but I didn’t feel like posting then. I have less than a week left for my COBB fic and I am growing slightly concerned as the fic also grows. (Why do I always do this to myself?) On a better note, I did finish my COBB art! Take a look if you haven’t seen it and be sure to check out the very cool fic it’s for: Signs of the Past.
Here’s a snippet from my own COBB fic. The working title was Fit for a King, but I’ve actually decided to call it Strictly Professional.
(Spice under the cut.)
Simon POV:
"This good?" I ask.
He's nodding his head and thrusting into my hand.
"Very good."
To back up his answer, he moves one hand down to cup my arse, tugging my hips forward in time with his next thrust. The hand on the back of my neck reaches up to take hold of my hair and pull.
"Yeah," I say. It comes out sounding more like a growl than an actual word. "Very, very good."
So good, I know this is all going to be over for me a lot quicker than I wanted.
I can't remember the last time I felt this wild for someone. Wanted so badly.
Every touch is a spark, every kiss, an electric current.
I'm a bloody fire hazard in his arms.
Thanks to everyone who has been tagging me while I’ve been limiting tumblr time so that I write instead. I always appreciate your tags and getting to see your progress. Consider this your tag back: @aristocratic-otter @alexalexinii @confused-bi-queer @artsyunderstudy @thewholelemon @nightimedreamersworld @hushed-chorus @facewithoutheart @fatalfangirl @aroace-genderfluid-sheep @shrekgogurt @moodandmist @larkral @j-nipper-95 @ileadacharmedlife @shemakesmeforget @whogaveyoupermission @blackberrysummerblog @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @ionlydrinkhotwater
Adding on some tags for next time @captain-aralias @cutestkilla @foolofabookwyrm-activated @frjsti @ic3-que3n @ivelovedhimthroughworse @jbrrring @johnwgrey @letraspal @martsonmars @mostlymaudlin @otherpeoplesheartachept-2 @onepintobean @prettylightsbigcity @raenestee @stillmadaboutpetra @seafoampuddings @stardustasincocaine @sillyunicorn @thehoneyedhufflepuff @theearlgreymage @takitalks @urban-sith @wetheformidables @yellobb @yeonjunenby
Thank you to @hushed-chorus, @prettygoododds, @confused-bi-queer, @ivelovedhimthroughworse, @j-nipper-95, @you-remind-me-of-the-babe, @fatalfangirl, @artsyunderstudy, @palimpsessed, @rimeswithpurple, , @nightimedreamersghost, @dragoneggos, @annabellelux and @ileadacharmedlife for the tags over the last week and a half. I'm working my way slowly and steadily through your posts (and having a lot of fun with it!), but I wanted to post tonight, so I'm switching gears here.
Yay! Summer vacation has begun! To celebrate, here's my first WIP Wednesday in a while.
Segments below the cut
From my COBB (it's so soon, y'all!)
Shepard
We’ve reached the foot of an actual mediaeval looking tower. I stare up at it in awe for several seconds before realising that Simon hasn’t waited for me. I scurry to catch up. He’s mounting the first of what looks to be an endless spiralling staircase. I look around, but there’s no sign of an elevator. No ADA compliance in magedom, I guess.
Even as I’m thinking that, on one landing, a boy in a wheelchair emerges from one of the many doors. I know it’s rude, but I can’t help but stare when he mutters a few words, waves his wand, and the stairs immediately smooth out to a gentle ramp.
I guess they don’t need ADA compliance in the World of Mages.
From my (still unnamed) Age of Sail AU
Simon and the cook spend their days cataloguing what’s left to us and writing out plans and routes on the deck boards with graphite sticks. They seem to think that if we’re lucky, the winds will push us into a shipping lane and another ship will just appear to rescue us.
I think they’re living in a fantasy world. I think we’re stuck here until the ship’s wounds prove too much for it and it falls apart. Or until the next storm tears us apart. Or until we run out of food or water and starve to death.
Ha! Running out of water when we’re surrounded by leagues of the stuff. It’s what my tutor would call ‘the height of irony.’
Fuck, I never thought I’d miss that pinched old man. But I think if Professor Gerint showed up right now, I might hug him. If he showed up with a boat, at least.
I try not to spend too much time thinking about how my parents just…left. How they didn’t wait for me to come back from under the deck. How my father didn’t leap up out of the lifeboat, desperate to find me.
How, in the end, my stepmother and the babe she carries were far more important than me.
From Snow Fox, my COTTA
It’s almost anticlimactic how easy it is to free the American officers on their march to Georgia.
My men and I waited until the British column was passing through a dense part of the wood. Then the men I’d placed at strategic points on either side of (and behind) the line of British troops, fired their guns in the air on my signal (a high whistled ‘fee-bee’, the call of the chickadee). After the column froze, the Brits groping for their guns and looking frantically in ever direction, I rode out to face the commander at the front of the train.
“Drop your weapons,” I said, mildly. “You’re surrounded.” At those words, my tiny band of men had switched positions by several feet each, and fired again from a new location. The British soldiers were practically cowering now, because each time I spoke, the guns fired again, from a new spot. It sounded like a thousand American soldiers were holding their tiny force in a giant fist, and all I’d need to do is to give a signal, and that fist would crush them.
An impression we'd carefully planned out ahead of time, given that I’ve less than fifty men, and the British force has more than two hundred.
The British leader looked at my gun pointed at his head, and listened to the gunfire and screams behind him, and surrendered without a shot fired.
From: To Heal a Broken Mind
Simon looks up and smiles tiredly at me when I approach. “Any luck?” he asks.
I purse my lips. “Maybe…you’ve got a lesion in your left temporal. It may not mean anything, but it reminds me of something… I can’t quite put my finger on it, but I’m going to review my medical journal back copies tonight.
Simon nods slowly. He doesn’t look particularly encouraged, but it’s not like there’s anything concrete yet. In silence, but hand in hand (what’s the point of hiding now?), we depart the hospital
From Westward Son:
“You putting your oar in?” I tease.
He shrugs and smiles. “Not really. I’m no use when it comes to survival skills, you know that. But…there may be folk who are. That’s what I was going to suggest.”
I’m puzzled. “You were going to suggest that we look for advice outside the train?” I look around at the sheer emptiness around us. Most trains that we’d gotten used to seeing gave up and stayed back at Fort Boise, or even at earlier stops. I’ve not seen anyone but us for days.
“Not people you can see,” he says, with emphasis.
“People we can’t see, but could help us,” I scowl. “Do you get a thrill from being mysterious, Shepard Love?”
He laughs. “No. But there are people…well, not precisely people, but beings, at least, in this area.”
My breath catches. He means the fair folk. “Shepard, that’s too risky,” I say, my voice shrill enough to attract Simon’s eye from where he’s standing several feet away, brushing Agatha’s coat.
From Saving Simon Snow:
Simon pulls back so abruptly that I’m dizzy. “Baz,” he says urgently, “do you still hate me?”
It takes me several seconds to recover my wits enough to understand the question. I’m still fighting the urge to pull his gifted mouth and tongue back to my neck when I realise what he’s asked me.
My mouth opens and closes uselessly for a moment before I sigh.
“Simon,” I croak, and then pause to clear my throat. “Simon, I never hated you.”
He goes still. “Never?” He stares at me.
I shake my head. “Never. I pretended to hate you. It was what my family expected of me. What I expected of myself. But I never could quite manage it.”
He scowls a little. “You gave a damned good impression of it.”
And a tiny tease from Raising Dragons (it's done, y'all! Fristi and I are making some final decisions, but it should post in the next few days!)
“Don’t laugh at me, you arsehole,” I whine.
“But when will I ever laugh then?” he mocks me. He loves that line. And I love him, so I let him get away with it, every time.
Happy WIPSday! I have not shared words in a while but guess what fic I’m finally getting back to that is now over a year old and hasn’t updated since February?? If you know what fic this is ilysm.
He looks so beautiful in his deep purple tux. Tonight is Baz’s big Life Water fundraiser. He’s been working tirelessly for this for the past six months. He’s put together a fancy dinner at a swanky venue, invited all the richest people in LA and put together an impressive silent auction that will probably raise more money with one item than it would take to pay my mortgage for a year. It’s a huge deal for him and the stress of it alone would be enough to test the most zen Buddha.
“I’m sorry you’re having to wait for me,” he says, making eye contact with me through the mirror. (I guess I’m not so subtle in my ogling.)
I shake my head. “I’m fine. I like watching you get ready.”
He gives me a skeptical look but I just grin at him. If he only knew.
If you guessed my fate dating, Hollywood AU How to Avoid a Scandal, you win! There is no prize, just more waiting until I finish the last two chapters lmao. But! I’m hoping I can finish this fic this summer. She says with her fingers crossed tightly. This fic was written for last year’s CO Reverse Bang and I still have two pieces of art made by the lovely xivz that I’m sitting on! AH! Wish me luck as I attempt to dive back in with gusto 🫡
Thanks and I love you to everyone who has tagged me over the last few weeks 💜 @fatalfangirl @moodandmist @artsyunderstudy @whogaveyoupermission @youarenevertooold @valeffelees @j-nipper-95 @forabeatofadrum @shrekgogurt @shemakesmeforget @blackberrysummerblog @aroace-genderfluid-sheep @ileadacharmedlife @larkral @facewithoutheart @hushed-chorus @confused-bi-queer @nightimedreamersworld @theearlgreymage @aristocratic-otter @ic3-que3n @imagineacoolusername @rimeswithpurple @martsonmars @onepintobean @cutestkilla adding more love/tags/hellos to @raenestee @thewholelemon @ivelovedhimthroughworse @mysterioussheep @letraspal @palimpsessed @ebbpettier @johnwgrey @wellbelesbian @captain-aralias @chen-chen-chen-again-chen
Morning friends! Thanks so much for everyone tagging me, I know I've been inconsistent about responding but I see everyone and I love reading your stuff, I've just been very AHHHHH lately and so fucking busy but seriously. You're all so talented.
Same old same old complaints. Writing is going slow. I'm stressed (not necessarily about writing, but also not NOT about writing). I spent all day yesterday working on a drawing that I meant to only spend an hour on. I managed to get a few words out by the end of the night, but then it was midnight and I had to stop.
I'm about to chug coffee and eat a pile of croissants and get back to it but here's something!!!
My stomach twists uncomfortably, and I’m tempted to put down the sausage.
“Why did you eat? We’ve had plans to meet for days. Was it a client thing? Who the hell needs a blowjob before noon on a Sunday?”
“Plenty of people, I reckon.” I do put down the sausage and pick up a fork to start jabbing at my eggs.
“So it was a client thing?”
I shrug, because Penny and I don’t lie to each other, but I can’t tell her the whole truth. And calling this a client thing? It feels wrong. We're more than that. But Penny knows Baz, and we didn’t have time to talk properly. About any of it.
Fucking hell.
