i'm trying to write something


the door shuts behind simon, and baz looks up from his textbooks, sneer already plastered on his face.

“how was your little session with the mage?” his voice is taunting, mesmerising, almost haunting. like a siren’s song. simon watches the shadows shift over baz’s face and can almost believe baz means him no harm.

“fuck off.” it’s tired.

simon turns his back to baz. he doesn’t see baz frown. this isn’t the simon he’s used to at all.

baz’s voice floats across the room to him. “aw, what’s wrong? does the mage not like widdle simon anymore?”

simon’s shirt makes a soft rustling noise as he gingerly peels it off his body. he instinctively holds his left hand over the giant bruise on his stomach, prays baz doesn’t see it.

“or maybe,” baz continues tauntingly, “the mage finally realises how idiotic this whole thing is and he’s called it off? aleister crowley, i hope so.”

he thinks baz’s voice sounds like music, the sharp noise bouncing off the silence of the night. a breeze blows through the window, and he shivers.

simon pulls off his socks and leaves them on the floor. baz lets out a disgusted sound, but simon really, really doesn’t have the strength to care right now. he climbs into bed, pulling the covers over him.

baz sighs loudly. “i can’t believe i’ve put up with six years as roommates with this prat.”

“baz.” simon’s voice is soft. monotone. nothing like a siren’s song at all. “shut up.”

baz does.

A Terrible Neighbour

HI HI HI I AM SO SORRY FOR BEING GONE FOR SO LONG!!! I know I promised smut but I wanted to get this out first! Merry late Christmas and a Happy New Year @senren, @fairyfairypie, @yolkygoblin, @seitsuya, and @soukoku-writes!!!


Dazai Osamu was the worst neighbour in the world and anyone who said otherwise was blessed to never have met him.

Keep reading

Reasons I love writing GoChi or Son Family stuff from Goku’s point-of-view:

He doesn’t hide from his emotions. He doesn’t hold anything back. He accepts all the feelings he experiences. He just…doesn’t always understand them. Doesn’t really know what they are or why he feels a certain way. So, he’s kinda clueless when it comes to why things make him happy. But he still does what he can to get Chi-Chi to smile at him or to get baby Gohan to say “Daddy” or little things like that because those things make him feel things, and it’s good.

“I don’t really know what love is - but I like it.”

Maybe I just love how pure and honest it all is, because aren’t we all like that when it comes to love?

A little something loosely based off of this post where Jack gets jealous whenever Bitty diverts his attention to his phone, and the reason why Bitty is always on Twitter.

Never in Jack’s life did he think he’d be jealous of Twitter.

“Got another important tweet to send out?” Jack asked with a small huff. The pair of them were sat in a quaint café in Providence, enjoying coffees and pastries when he watched Bitty pick his phone up from the table for the sixth time since they had sat down with their orders. Jack would be a liar if he said that he wasn’t the tiniest bit disappointed that he didn’t have Bitty’s full attention. Maybe it was selfish of him to expect Bitty to focus on him and only him every time he visited; though the idea behind the visits was that they’d be making up for the days they spent apart.

“Mhm.” Bitty hummed, his thumbs tapping away at his screen. “Keep going, I’m listening.” He added without looking up.

Jack rolled his eyes before resting his gaze at Bitty. “No, it’s all right. I can wait for you to finish. I know it’s important for you to speak to your people right this second.” He teased.

Bitty laughed lightly, “I’m not sending tweets out to ‘my people’, honey. I’m just tweeting so I don’t forget stuff.”

“And now is the time to do it?” Jack asked, his finger nail tapping against his coffee mug in mild annoyance.

“Yes. I don’t want to forget.” He said simply.

Jack’s brows furrowed slightly, “Forget what?”


“This?” He asked.

“Our conversation.” Bitty clarified as he closed out of Twitter, locked his phone, and set it face down on the table.

“You can’t forget it if you’re not actually having it, Bits.” Jack scratched the back of his neck lightly as he looked back at Bitty, watching a small smile spread across his lips.

“You know, one day you’ll thank me for jotting this stuff down.” He took a small sip from his coffee, gazing across the table at Jack. “I’m not just retweeting dumb pictures. I keep track of little stuff that I know I’ll wanna remember. For example, that time you tried to show me pictures on your camera and drenched me in hot coffee.”

Jack let out a low groan as he covered his face with his hands, feeling his face instantly heat up with embarrassment. “Why would you want to remember that? If it wasn’t for the mountain of sweaters you were wearing I would’ve given you third degree burns.”

Bitty laughed as his foot tapped against Jack’s under the table, “It’s a nice memory, you know? How many pictures do you have on your computer from your senior year?” 

Jack gave a small shrug as he thought about it, “Dunno. I mean it has it’s own folder on my laptop so probably a handful.”

“See? It’s just like you taking pictures. When you want to remember something you take a picture, don’t you?” Jack gave small nod in response as he took another sip of his coffee. “So, think of my twitter as a text based scrapbook; all of the little moments we otherwise we have forgotten are mostly all recorded on my twitter. Whether it be the good stuff or the bad stuff, it’s all there. You’ve got your pictures and I have my twitter.”


A smile spread across Jack’s lips as he dipped his head slightly, a light flush working its way from Jack’s cheeks to the tips of his ears. He softly let his toes rest on top of Bitty’s under the privacy of their small table to keep himself from reaching out to lace their fingers together.

Maybe he didn’t mind sharing Bitty’s attention with Twitter after all.


The slight difference in Gideon’s face after the two very contradicting statements Jude threw at him, made me a little giddy.

Found & Forgotten Supporting Characters

When I originally posted Found & Forgotten, I “casted” the supporting characters and created a banner. It helped me visualize these people in my head. I hope I don’t spoil your own head canons with mine!

Bess Cooper - Sarah Paulson in Down With Love (which was a major stylistic influence)

Daniel (Devious Devilish Dastardly) Higgins - Clive Owen

Niles Eddington (Bess’s longtime boyfriend) - Martin Freeman

Priscilla Bootkins - Honor Blackman as P*ssy Galore in Goldfinger. (Put the asterisk in so blacklist wouldn’t be triggered. LOL.)

Miss Woods (Eve) - Eve Arden

Jim the Elevator Operator - Stanley Holloway (He played Mr. Doolittle in My Fair Lady)

Genoary, Day 22: CHASING CROSS - What did Cross do to piss off Geno?

Yeah, I know. I reused Day 14′s pic, but I’ve been really stressed lately, and it’s kinda hard to focus on drawing sometimes, so yeah, this happened.
I have no shame.

Also, Goth is still an evil yet adorable child.

Genoary challenge by @shinydiamondblog
Geno!Sans by @loverofpiggies
Cross!Sans by @jakei95
Goth by @nekophy

  • Remus Lupin has spent a total of seventeen months over nineteen years in various hospitals, getting skin grafts and surgeries and physical therapy and honestly he hates it
  • but not as much as he hates his scars
  • all different sizes and colors, pink and silver and brown, stretched across his body because Remus John Lupin is lucky enough to have been in not one, but two separate car accidents that should by all rights have killed him, and yet here he is
  • alive
  • scarred
  • his right leg is never going to move properly again, he’s lucky he can walk with a cane
  • anyways he’s covered in scars and he hates them and one day some random person on the street stares at him too long and he just loses it
  • turns around and limps two blocks until he reaches that shitty little tattoo parlor that he passes every thursday on his way back from the grocery store
  • storms in and rips his jumper off, just wearing a t-shirt now, and bellows “someone please for the love of God help me hide these”
  • so what if he’s crying he’s earned the right to cry
  • he knows he can’t get rid of the scars but he can damn well cover them up
  • he kinda figures he’s about to get kicked out because most people don’t burst into a tattoo parlor and start crying and yelling and pulling off their sweaters
  • but the guy that walks up to him just shakes his head and says “nah, I won’t cover those up, that’s like drawing outside the lines. it’d be a shame.”
  • and he shows Remus
  • shows him how that mottled pink mark on the back of his arm is really just half a zinnia that needs to be filled in
  • the silver lines and dots running down his shoulder is a river of stars
  • and don’t even get him started on the whole landscape across the small of Remus’ back
  • they just need some color and outlines and an artist’s touch
  • specifically one artist’s touch
  • specifically Sirius Black’s
  • which is his name btw nice to meet you please stop crying, Sirius’ll fix you right up
  • so yeah he works out some sort of payment plan with Remus that basically means he can afford to get most of his body tattooed over the next several months
  • Remus comes by once a week for a few hours and in six months he barely recognizes himself
  • all those scars, everything that he hated about his body, Sirius has turned into something beautiful, used what Remus thought were the ugliest flaws to make incredible, breathtaking art
  • but yeah just Sirius helping Remus to love himself and his appearance with the magic of tattoos


Striding softly, swiftly,
not a sound slips
so you solely hear
what you only wish
and the moonlight strikes
like an arrow true
through the tangled woods
that belong to you

Full and brilliant
dark and subtle
still you’re constant
never caving
always questing
always craving

Leader of the lupine pack
Guardian of the soft-eyed fawn
Queen of lonely, wild places
I will follow where you’ve gone

Show me how to draw my bow
Take your aim, and there we’ll go

You wanna know what I hate about dystopian YA novels? That the plots are literally just like “adults created this problem and are going to kill children for it.”

Like, Maze Runner, adults create a virus and kill children in an attempt to fix it.

Divergent, adults trap a bunch of people inside cities and let kids die at the hands of the adults who don’t want to get out.

Hunger Games, there’s a war so they kill kids in an attempt to keep the peace and order.

I just don’t get it???

you looked at me and compared me to flowers,
roses maybe; you knew i had thorns,
but you never expected the tear
in your heart to be anything more
than pleasant.

i kissed you, saint-like, on the cheek
but when you stole me away
i was poison on the lips- and a
nightmare to your city.

i guess that you could call me
a collective dream turned sour:
a girl who had no idea,
of the power her beauty could yield
or maybe, a girl with too much
on how to cause a biblical war

—  never try to fall in love a girl with a plan (fh)
Fic thoughts...

I’m wondering if people would be interested in reading short scenes from fic ideas I have floating around in my head?

My problem right now is that I know what I want to write for chapter 10 for example. But I have no idea what to do for the next chapter everyone is patiently waiting for. Sometimes I come up with part of a future chapter to a fic I’m working on/want to work on and feel like I should write it down, but I’m not sure where I should put it. I’m afraid if I don’t get it down on paper (so to speak) I’ll forget about it.

But I figure someone out there might be interested in what my “process” is like and give people a sneak peek into something that’ll happen in a story a few weeks from now.

A problem:

in the venn diagram of my brain, ‘stories I want to write’ and ‘characters I want to write about has a teeeeeny tiiiiiny overlap and that overlap is called Gamzee Makara Suffers And Then Gets Hugs

Pro tip: do not get emotionally invested in a ship where even kissing may very well be a physical impossibility

Unilock where John and Sherlock separately decide to dress up as each other for Halloween, so Sherlock nicks one of John’s t-shirts and his rugby jacket the day before, and he wears them with some jeans, and he thinks he’s so clever dressing up as John without telling him, he thinks it’ll be such a fun surprise, but then when he knocks on the door to John’s flat that night he is met with the sight of John in a leotard and tights, his hair as curly as he could make it and a goofy grin on his face, and they both just burst into hysterical giggles because they both look completely ridiculous.