Sweet Home Arkanis

BOOM YOU DIDN’T expect that??? Ha. Here’s my newest work. A collab with the ever incredible @gefionne Go, go read it and tell us what you think <3

Hux is engaged to the man of his dreams. There’s just one catch: he’s already married to his high school sweetheart, Ben Solo. Now he needs a divorce, and he needs it fast.

You can read it here. 


Here’s my take on the characters from that wonderful series that is The Lunar Chronicles by Marrisa Meyer (ノ◕ヮ◕)ノ*:・゚🌙

[the pages are quite detailed so you can click on the pictures for terrible character descriptions and to see stuff a little better! I’ve tried my best to stick to the characters’ heights (which u can find here) to do that thing at the top where they all stand next to each other and make ze’ev look like a giant. 👀]

[you can also see the first picture in high quality on my deviantart and the character boards that I’m going to post probably tomorrow.]


Happy 40th birthday, Benedict Cumberbatch! (July 19, 1976)

So, I finished the rough draft of my first novel. I would have never, ever had the confidence to write or share my work with others without the people here to give me the strength or motivation to even try. I have a long way to go with editing and etc but I just wanted to thank everyone who has ever been nice to me about my writing because once upon a time I would have laughed if anyone had told me that I’d write a book.

So even if it’s just a draft that never gets read by anyone else I’m just really happy right now.

Stray Chat - Chapter 10


You guys are so amazing, and I’m so happy that you’ve followed my story for this long, and left me such wonderful comments. Writing this makes me feel more confident in writing and knowing that this fic is about the size of an average novel… well I feel like if I worked hard I could actually write a publish-able book. :) 

So THANK YOU for your support and I’m glad you’ve like this story so much. I can’t believe it’s as popular as it is. Aaahhh that’s just really really cool guys. :) I may write some extra chapters because I love this little Stray Chat universe that I’ve built. :) 

I hope you like the ending! I had fun writing it!

(Also, a big thank you to @dreamwips / @zizzani who is amazing and beta read most of these chapters to make them even better!!! <3 ILY!)

First - Previous - Extra Chapterrrr??????????

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Eureka pilot aired 10 years ago (July 18, 2006)

Eureka isn’t just a town, it’s an idea. A place where intellectual aptitude is celebrated, not ridiculed. Not only is it okay to be smart, geeky, or obsessive… it’s required. Don’t let all the explosions, AI takeovers, and space-time disturbances fool you. Eureka is a damn fine place to live. - Amy Berg (co-executive producer/writer)


Summary: Your plans for the night included a cozy night in with a marathon of Game of Thrones, your friends’ plans on the other hand…not so much.

Word Count: 1.3K (wow, I was NOT expecting that)


A/N: An idea I got while listening to Meghan Trainor’s Goosebumps. And, since I of course have been listening to it on repeat, this is the result. Woohoo!

Originally posted by 107th-infantry

Your name: submit What is this?

Everything for your night was set. You had your flannel pjs on with your house stark oversized shirt, and a buffet of snacks on the coffee table. The opening theme was playing and you were about to dig in to your popcorn, when the doorbell rang.

Pausing the show with an agitated huff, you opened the door and were greeted by your two best friends, Natasha and Wanda. They were dressed to the nines, obviously planning on going out, and as they let themselves in you began to protest.

“No, guys—no! I told you I didn’t want to go out tonight! I just wanna watch my game of thrones in peace!” You knew you were whining, but if they were going to drag you out to a party, you were going to make it clear that you weren’t planning on enjoying it. “I don’t even have any makeup on, come on!”

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it was supposed to be a simple sketch at first but apparently sidney crosby does not approve of doing anything by halves

referenced from those gifs

Finished the January 2012 Timeline!

hiya lovelies, my timeline for january 2012 is now complete!!!!!! just a couple of quick things:

  • all links lead to my blog only-if there is nothing for certain days that means couldn’t find posts to reblog
  • there’s more of a focus on harry and louis than the other boys (thought i do love them all)
  • i’m not claiming to be 100% accurate-if there are anything is tagged incorrectly shoot me a message please

hopefully this is helpful for anyone interested in date ^_^

Not Yet

Wow. My first finished piece of writing in what feels like ages lol. This is for the sweet, strong, beautiful & altogether lovely Sophia, @onceuponahappytime. I wanted to give you sweetness because you deserve it, and sweetness you shall have. This is the prompt you asked for: Regina teaching Henry how to ride. I hope you’ll enjoy it <3

Unedited; all mistakes are mine.

He’s silent and nervous, too serious as always, her little prince. His moon-pale face is scowled in concentration, his bottom lip sucked in as he gingerly swings his leg over the seat of his bike, settling down gently, his movements made awkward by the elbow- and knee pads weighing him down.

“Mommy, the seat is too low!”

He stomps with his little feet on the ground to show her how easily he can reach down, and she smiles and flicks his chin up with a slow touch of her fingers to have him look at her while she explains - she always wants to show him he has her full and undivided attention, and ensure his.

“It’s just for now, baby boy. So you can stop if you don’t feel steady, okay? How do you like your new bike?”

Henry looks down again and runs his small hands in gleeful adoration over the pink painting - He’s been in his pink period ever since he turned five. She’d eventually agreed to buy him the bedcover with ugly pink elephants he’s been raving about for days, along with the matching pillow case, and of course, she knew better than to choose another color for the bike she gave him on his sixth birthday, two days ago.

She waits and he looks up at her, solemn as a judge, his intensity comical when he asserts: “I love it, Mommy. It’s the more beautiful bike in the world.”

“The ‘most’ beautiful, sweetheart,” she gently corrects him, a smile still flirting with her mouth as she delights in his slight lisp - it’s slowly going away as he grows older, but it’s still there, and she loves it, she knows her mother would hate it, would have done everything in her power to force Henry to have a flawless elocution, and that makes her even more fierce not to fix it, and let him grow out of it on its own, because it’s his, and, as everything that belongs to Henry, she cherishes it.

“Well now, why don’t we try her out to see what she’s capable of?”

Henry giggles, the helmet bobbing on its head. He loves that quirk of hers to use female pronouns to speak about most objects in their household, car included. Women are the only ones to get things done, Henry, remember that, she often says to him in her most regal tone while he applauds readily ‘Mommy’s acting’.

Her boy gives an enthusiastic kick with his short legs, effectively propelling him forward and she has to run after him to grab the back of the saddle and make sure he doesn’t fall over.

“Wait for me, little man!”

“But Mommy, I wanna ride! You can let go!”

“Not just yet, Henry.”

It takes up their whole afternoon - interspersed with well-deserved breaks - between scooting, feet-up coasting, each one bolder than the previous one, turning and steering, she barely feels her legs anymore, following him for every step, but letting him learn and steady himself on his own. Henry is flushed and breathless and having the time of his life, all his early apprehension completely forgotten.

“Can I pedal, now?”

He’s hopeful and eager, and she has no reason to hold him back. But it hits her. He’s six-year-old now.

Never did she think she’d come to feel time moving too fast in a town frozen in an endless day.

“Yes you can. You’re doing very well, Henry.”

She shows him the basics - she doesn’t know how to ride herself, it never crossed her mind that she should learn before Henry came into the picture, and after, she was too taken with her little boy and her work to try. But she researched everything she could on the subject to make sure she’ll have the best method. She even went as far as asking Mary Margaret Blanchard for advice, the goody-goody little mouse having taught more than one child herself, naturally.

Her hand is still lingering on his shoulder as he tries on a few short distances. He stops, and gives her a thumbs up.

“I got it, Mommy! I can try on my own!”

“Alright, but be careful. And don’t go too far. And use your feet to stop you like I showed you, okay?”

She walks next to him - fast, faster, she starts jogging to keep up - and then he’s gone, and she slows down, walking behind him, watching him, watching him grow and learn and succeed, and he’s laughing and squealing joyously, shouting at her to watch, watch how he’s going fast! And her pride blossoms as her tears well up, but she keeps them on the inside, the words only hovering across the edge of her mind.

Not just yet, little prince. Not just yet.


It’s eight years, a few curses and several lessons in letting go later, that she finds herself bending over Henry’s skinned knee, gently tending to the cut while David fusses in the background.

“I’m so sorry, Regina, I should have been more careful, I–”

“It’s okay, David. Horses can be unpredictable creatures, and you can’t control everything around them.”

“I swear, Filbert is really sweet-tempered, if it wasn’t for Pongo coming out of nowhere–”

“David,” she insists, turning back to look at him while her hand is glowing, healing magic seeping from her palm effortlessly and into Henry’s wound. “It’s okay. I don’t blame you.”

He shuts his mouth, and nods.

Truth be told, she’s a little pissed. Boys. Caution has never been David’s strong suit - something he’s passed on to his daughter and his grandson - and he’s been a little too earnest for Henry’s first horseback riding lesson, riding along on his own horse instead of walking beside him first.

But she won’t hold it against him. She knows all about the guilt that comes from unwillingly causing harm to your child, and it’s no use adding to it with her sharp words. Not when they’ve come to a place of love and respect in this weird family of them.

She goes back to Henry, a comforting smile on her lips.


He self-consciously scrubs his now healed knee, his look a little sheepish.

“Yeah. Thanks Mom. More frightened than hurt.”

“Well. You know what you have to do, now.”

He chuckles knowingly, thinking back to that time where he’d gotten a little too brave on his bike the second day after learning how to ride it, and the stern, but understanding look of his Mom when he’d said he was too scared to try again. The only way to overcome fear, my little prince, is to face it.

“Yeah, I’m gonna give our buddy here a second chance. But…”

He trails off, casting a quick and evasive glance at David, and almost whispering to her, “Do you think you could stay next to me?”

She gently brushes back the wild hair sticking out from under his riding hat.

“Of course.”

It goes well after that. David is riding in front of them, showing the way, while she walks next to a tense Henry on an inquisitive Filbert, holding on to the reins while she gently corrects him on his posture. He relaxes back into his saddle after a few minutes of peaceful riding, and she allows her fingers to open, letting him full control of the horse, but he stops her.

“Wait. Don’t let go just yet?”

She looks up at him. Six-year-old Henry excited on his new bike, fourteen-year-old Henry nervous on a horse, and all the Henrys in-between, all the memories of firsts, of learning when to give him space, when to be here. All the memories that built her into a mother.

She gives his knee a shaky squeeze, and takes back the reins.

tonight i can write the saddest lines (Keith/Shiro)

Summary: (so if you love me, why’d you let me go?) Keith meets Shiro on a Friday, and everything unravels from there. / Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind AU, oneshot.
A/N: for @adribug, @lattekitten, @turnipsandtangerines, @agent-peggy, @quotidiandreams, @ditaauraart and everyone else who has yelled about these two with me. @samorgandrake just bc she’s a sweetheart and still reads my fic even when she doesn’t necessarily ship. :P also lowkey dedicated to @prince-ichi, @arrival-layne, @ghostbananas@lordzuuko and all the other artists whose art kills me daily. 


Tuesday afternoon in the park. A group of kids laughing and shrieking as they played tag. His pinky linked with Shiro’s, a lemon donut in his left hand. Too sweet, he thought, handing it over. Shiro took a bite from it and chewed, thoughtful.

“What’s happening to us?” Keith asked, voice small.

Shiro tilted his head back and closed his eyes, the breeze ruffling his hair.

“They’re erasing me. But you knew that already.”

Already, Keith could not recall what came after. It yawned open inside him, a snaking road devoid of all its original landmarks.

“I won’t let them take anymore,” he swore. “They can’t force me to forget the rest.”

Shiro’s mouth quirked a little sadly. “No, no one’s ever been good at forcing you to do anything.”

I would have followed you anywhere. The thought landed inside him like a bird, sinking its claws into his heart. Not in this moment, not yet, but later. How do you forget something like that?

(read the rest over on Ao3)

CRIMSON WATER, alternate universe - merpeople, merman!Bard, childhood friends, forbidden love | read on AO3

‘This is the story of a child meeting a merboy; in a world where merfolk are persecuted and executed, their unusual friendship blooms over the years, a secret. But no secret can be kept forever.’

Caejose Week: Day 1

(also on AO3)

Title: We’re Not Dating!
Prompt: Domestic
Rating: T (for swearing)
Summary: the one where everyone except caejose knows they’re in a relationship (save joseph 2k16)
Word count: 3518
Warnings: tooth-rotting domestic fluff. u have been Warned

The whole thing is Josuke’s fault, Joseph thinks furiously, head in his hands, his leg bouncing up and down nervously. Caesar’s in the kitchen, whistling some old Italian song as steak sizzles in the pan. The bottle of red wine Joseph brought home is sitting on the counter– the fancy kind, because Caesar doesn’t like the way the cheap stuff tastes. Joseph has literally been wearing Caesar’s clothes for the past week. It’s nice, homey. Domestic.

It’s also destroying Joseph’s soul.

Fucking Josuke.

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