Here is all the writing of author XJ (also known as Batsy, she/her, they/them, ace). I write LGBTQIA+ themed things, some fanfic, and may post art from time to time. My original fic is under the tag WIP. No minors please.
How am I JUST now realizing there’s an active Carry On fandom?? Like yeah it makes sense but it just never occurred that a book I read in 9th grade would have an active fandom (only read the first book, plan to reread and read the other 2)
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I am going to be taking a hiatus from Fandom stuff and writing for the moment. I started a new job in the mental health arena and while the job itself is awesome, it has reminded me that there are some aspects of my life that I have ignored in the past 7 years as I worked towards this goal (i.e. social life, getting out and doing things, travel, exercise, my now very serious quilting hobby). Writing has been a big part of the last 10 years of my life and has, at times, given me a reason to keep going when things looked bleak. But after the giant stories I've crafted here and the many 50+ pages papers written for school, me and my hands are in need of a break.
I'll still be here but if I check this app, it's going to be on the summit of my latest hiked trail, or right before I hop on a plane to my next destination, or between glasses of wine when out with friends, or even when at the numerous quilt shows across the USA.
I've worked so hard to get to a point where I can actually live my life and I'm gonna go do that.
Unfinished Business (44504 words) by thewriterxj
Chapters: 17/17
Fandom: Simon Snow & Related Fandoms
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton “Baz” Pitch/Simon Snow
Characters: Simon Snow, Tyrannus Basilton “Baz” Pitch, Original Characters, Penelope Bunce, Agatha Wellbelove, Dev (Simon Snow), Niall (Simon Snow), Micah Cordero
Summary:
Simon spies Baz walking by one random day, and he realizes there’s unfinished business between the two of them. The old rivalries and wars of the magic world no longer play a part in Simon’s world, sure. But his magic still threatens to erupt from within, every day. He’d been discarded by the Mage, left by his girlfriend, and even his best friend has moved on to bigger, better, and more magical things. Simon’s life is a small, sad, frustrated thing, and it is all Baz’s fault.
After all, it was Baz who had stolen his voice in 5th year.
And Simon has always thought of getting it back. Whatever it takes.
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An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 2/?
Fandom: 陈情令 | The Untamed (TV)
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Relationships: Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī/Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn
Characters: Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī, Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn, Lán Huàn | Lán Xīchén, Lán Yuàn | Lán Sīzhuī
Summary:
Lan Zhan struggles with his regrets, and wishes for just one moment more with Wei Wuxian. Wei Wuxian shows up in his dreams, and is willing to grant his wish, but Lan Zhan has to confront his fears before he can be happy.
WIP for Bad Blood, which honestly has it's own mind and is very dark but hey, why not:
“You think I want to do this without you?” he growls it at me. Or tries to. His voice breaks a bit. He’s trying to talk low, but I think Cameron can still hear us. I reach out to him, but he pushes my hand away.
I was going to leave him.
I was going to do to him what happened to me.
I was going to leave him to face this vampire life alone.
All because I wanted to die. Because I couldn’t face the guilt.
Because I am a coward.
“Simon…” I try to reach for him again. He doesn’t shove me away, but he doesn’t turn to me. He turns away from me the closer I try to get. I pull away. I wouldn’t want me to touch me either, if I were him.
“I’m sorry, Simon,” is all I can say. Pitifully.
He turns and embraces me. It’s a hard embrace. His arms are like steel. It is equally a comfort as it is a punishment. My battered body can only let him. I’d let him squeeze the breath out of me, if it made him feel any better. I feel his tears sink into my shirt. They’re icy. It's soothing against my burnt skin.
Simon takes the glass away when I am done, then leans in and licks up the blood that stains my lower lip.
It turns into a kiss.
I open my mouth for him.
His tongue touches mine. I let him kiss and suck at my tongue and lips. My fangs are down. He lets his drop, too. His are a bit wider than mine. A bit stubbier, but no less sharp. They touch mine when we kiss.
“I want to bite you,” he says. “I want you to bite me.”
“Simon…”
“Please. I want to feel your fangs in me.”
I think that’s the most erotic thing anyone’s ever said to me.
fanfiction is kind of incredible if you think about it. it's like i love this fictional character/relationship so much that i wrote a story that is also a love letter that is also a thesis about it.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 4/?
Fandom: Simon Snow & Related Fandoms, Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow, Lamb/Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch
Characters: Lamb (Simon Snow), Simon Snow, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch, Penelope Bunce, Agatha Wellbelove, Shepard (Simon Snow), Original Male Character(s)
Summary:
Things after Lotus of Siam go a bit differently. Lamb gives Baz his first taste of human blood, and a series of bad choices follow. And it's Baz's friends who suffer the consequences.
Including Simon.
Baz can't right the wrongs, but he can make sure it never happens to anyone else ever again.
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Decided to do a companion piece for my EGF fic, Redline, where Baz goes through Simon's stash of "to be returned" items and decides to break his boyfriend's brain a bit.
Simon
“I’m surprised you wanted to come here,” I say as the server sets down two pints. And I am surprised. Usually Baz doesn’t like pubs, or drinking (he says it's boring)(I think he was just trying to be snooty when he said that, as if it were beneath him). I’ve been here a few times, to watch a game or two. Baz would rather watch them from the flat.
Baz just smiles. “I can enjoy more pedestrian fare when I want.”
“Uh huh.” I look him over. He’s wearing a button-down under a jumper, and even though he is wearing jeans, they are probably the most expensive pair of jeans worn by anyone in this place. He’s not even wearing real trainers. They’re the slip-on kind. I hadn’t seen, but I’m sure they’re over flower printed socks (the only kind of socks he seems to own).
It's always funny to see what he considers pedestrian.
I look around. I am at ease here, especially since Baz has long since spelled everyone (from all appearances...I’m sure he actually hasn’t gotten around to everyone) in this town with a Nevermind. Everyone can see my wings, and unlike a Nothing to See Here, people can actually interact with me. They just think nothing of the wings. My wings are as normal as an arm or leg.
“I mean, for your birthday.”
“Well, we already had Italian last night.”
I scoff. “Barely.” We had eaten the food, but most of it is chilling in the fridge, now. We still haven’t cut into the cake. Baz had assured me that it will keep for the day. I’ve ordered fish and chips tonight. Baz? Steak and chips. As rare as possible.
Baz just shrugs with one shoulder and takes up his drink. Watching him drink anything but wine is always rare, so I watch. He raises a brow at me, rolls his eyes, and continues. I chuckle and take up my own drink, but place my hand over his other one as it rests on the table. It feels weird to be sitting across from him. Usually, when we’re together, one part of me is always touching him. Baz lets me, and even turns his hand so I can hold it.
“So, why here?” I ask when he sets his glass down.
“I don’t know. It was just a whim.”
“They don’t even let you smoke in here.”
“I could Nevermind them about the cigarettes.”
“No, that’s rude. Someone might have allergies or something.”
He grins a mischievous grin, but he doesn’t take out his wand to spell anything. He just smirks and drinks some more. He catches me looking at him and sets down the glass. “We can go somewhere else, if you like.”
“No. I just think that you’re—”
“Plotting something?”
“I hate to sound cliche, but, yeah.”
“Who says I’m not?”
I think about what he could possibly do. Everyone here seems to be the normal sort of crowd: all Normals. There are screens set around the room, which usually show footie matches but today just show random things. One is playing a commercial for denture paste. It’s the least romantic place I can think of. And the least naughty. It’s not even a gay pub (which we've yet to go to, even though I have suggested it a few times...I don't think Baz is shy, but I also think that bars and such are just not his thing).
“It’s fun watching you try to figure it out,” he says. He chuckles to himself, but quiets when the server brings our food.
“Well, unless you suddenly took on the illegal act of compulsion spells or paid for someone to do something embarrassing, I have no clue.”
“Good.” He eats a chip. I shrug and tuck into my own meal while he cuts into his steak. His eyebrows peak a bit at the first bite. “Not bad.”
“Better than American steak?”
“No. You need several more coats of salt and a thicker cut for that.” I think the Cheesecake Factory is one of the few things about America that Baz did like (I actually think he’d like America more if we planned a better trip…and kept him out of the sun. He’d admitted to me, sometime later, how much torture the trip was for his skin. I had asked him why he didn’t say anything at the time, and he had admitted that I was having so much fun that he didn’t want to bother me with it. We had then agreed that next time, he will speak up, so he can have fun too.).
I laugh, either way. The food is good. Not the best, but good. I have to abandon Baz’s hand at one point so that I can actually eat, but my tail is free, so I let it wrap about one of his ankles. He’s so used to me doing this that he doesn’t even blink when it happens.
I finish my meal before Baz does, which is usual. At some point Baz shoves the rest of his chips towards me, so I eat those, too. He sits back and stretches his shoulders back, then folds the ankle I am holding over the other. The movement causes his jeans to ride just a bit. My tail slides down to touch his leg more…and I notice that the texture I am touching isn’t right for socks.
“What’s that?” I ask.
“What’s what?”
I shift my tail again, sliding it downward and uncoiling enough to feel the texture. “That.”
Baz looks down, as if he could see what I am doing under the table, then shrugs. “Fishnet.”
“Fishnet?”
“Obviously.”
I nearly yank his ankle towards me. He slides down a bit in his seat, but lets me take a peek. I can see a little bit, but the room is dim, and it’s under the table. But I can make out that yes, he is wearing fishnet under his jeans and shoes.
Black fishnet. A closer weave, but it is fishnet.
I raise my head and meet his gaze. He only smirks, shrugs, and reaches for another chip. I ease up with my tail so he can sit up again. “Baz.”
“Yes?”
“Why are you wearing fishnet?”
“Because, Simon,” he says, stabbing his last bite of steak with his fork. He examines it. It’s so rare it looks gummy. He shifts his eyes to me. “It’s my birthday, and tonight I am playing pillow prince, and you,” he points the bit of meat at me. “Are going to do everything I say.”
I swallow. Hard. I have no words. All I can do is watch him as he takes in the last bite of food, then as he washes it down with the last of his pint. He meets my gaze and raises his brows as if to say, is that alright with you? It's not a challenge. It's asking for permission. Because I know he’d never make me do anything I don’t want to do.
But this I want to do.
“Alright,” I say.
“Good,” he replies. He turns to the server when they come back, and orders another pint for us both.
In which I spend too much time psychoanalyzing (really just DSM diagnosis) fictional characters.
TW: mentions of death, abuse, narcissism, and also yes I use the DSM which I will acknowledge can be problematic but the characters are white men so they sort of fit who the DSM is based on.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 24/?
Fandom: Simon Snow & Related Fandoms
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow, Lamb/Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch, Simon Snow/Agatha Wellbelove, Penelope Bunce/Shepard
Characters: Simon Snow, Dev (Simon Snow), Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch, Agatha Wellbelove, Penelope Bunce, Lamb (Simon Snow), Shepard (Simon Snow), Niall (Simon Snow)
Summary:
Simon is a chef trying to make his way in a big, affluent city. He works in a designer restaurant, Unir, that caters to the rich and famous in order to pay bills while he's trying to get his bakery business off the ground. Every part of the restaurant rubs him the wrong way: the fake food, the cowardly staff, as well as the haughty customers. He's usually able to keep his resentment in check, but one day a snobby interior designer and his realtor boyfriend come in, and Simon is unable to keep himself from ruining their wedding proposal. Now he's stuck in a city with rent he can't afford, no job, a ruined reputation, and not many options.
Until the interior designer, Baz, offers him a job catering his wedding. Simon reluctantly takes the job, knowing that it will open many doors for him. He gets sucked into the world of an uptight designer who is stuck in a relationship he hasn't found a reason to sever, heading towards a wedding he doesn't know how to stop. Simon finds himself struggles with feelings that are growing between himself and his employer, and the harder he tries to stay out of the mess, the stickier the situation becomes.
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I put my hand over the keypad. “Why do you have to do that?”
“Do what?”
“That. Be an ass.”
“I thought you said it took two.”
“I’m here with a fucking olive branch, for fuck’s sake, you…” I pause when he raises a brow. I force myself to breathe in and shut down the thought. “You know what. No. I wasn’t going to do this. I told myself I wasn’t,” I remove my hand. I motion to the keypad. “Please.”
“No, tell me what you were going to say.” He turns to me and waits. The movement brings forward a hint of citrusy perfume. Citrusy and cedar-y.
“No. Because I’ll say something, then you’ll say something, and the next thing I know, I’m leaving with another ten thousand dollar check, which is fine, but that’s not what I’m here for.”
Mr. Pitch scoffs and waves his card in front of the keypad. The elevator door opens. “Go on.”
“It’s your elevator.”
He goes in and runs his hand through his hair in frustration. I follow.
I set down the case as the car gets going. I unbutton my cuffs and start to fold them back. I look up at him, but he’s watching me. He looks away when I catch him.
“What are you here for, then, if not to irritate me?” he asks. His voice seems to have lost a bit of its bite, though.
“To make things right.”
He scoffs. “Make things right?”
“Yeah.” I face him. “Make it right.”
“That makes no sense. You were paid for your time and effort. There’s nothing else you need to do.”
“It doesn’t sit right with me. I don’t care what you think about it.”
“You’re impossible,” he mutters.
“I’m impossible? Have you met you?”
Mr. Pitch laughs.
Read Season to Taste here, and be jealous of all the food.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 7/?
Fandom: Simon Snow & Related Fandoms
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow, Lamb/Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch, Simon Snow/Agatha Wellbelove, Penelope Bunce/Shepard
Characters: Simon Snow, Dev (Simon Snow), Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch, Agatha Wellbelove, Penelope Bunce, Lamb (Simon Snow), Shepard (Simon Snow), Niall (Simon Snow)
Summary:
Simon is a chef trying to make his way in a big, affluent city. He works in a designer restaurant, Unir, that caters to the rich and famous in order to pay bills while he's trying to get his bakery business off the ground. Every part of the restaurant rubs him the wrong way: the fake food, the cowardly staff, as well as the haughty customers. He's usually able to keep his resentment in check, but one day a snobby interior designer and his realtor boyfriend come in, and Simon is unable to keep himself from ruining their wedding proposal. Now he's stuck in a city with rent he can't afford, no job, a ruined reputation, and not many options.
Until the interior designer, Baz, offers him a job catering his wedding. Simon reluctantly takes the job, knowing that it will open many doors for him. He gets sucked into the world of an uptight designer who is stuck in a relationship he hasn't found a reason to sever, heading towards a wedding he doesn't know how to stop. Simon finds himself struggles with feelings that are growing between himself and his employer, and the harder he tries to stay out of the mess, the stickier the situation becomes.