the writing was a

Because you
made me feel
like an avalanche
refusing to land,
and I’m not sure
if I’m gonna love
or hate you
for that.
—  ma.c.a // Do I still have the right to get mad?
Will you give me just one last dance, darling? And when you nod with a small smile, I will take your hand, and make sure to play a never-ending record.
i don’t know why
i’m still waiting 
for you to come home
when you’ve already
found a new home 
between her legs
—  replaced - a.l.m

less “chosen one” heroes, more heroes that chose THEMSELVES. give me heroes that see a problem, look around, and think, “WELP, clearly no one ELSE is gonna fix it, so APPARENTLY it has to be me” and goes to their friends and is like “Y’ALL, GET YOUR SHIT, WE’RE GOING ON A QUEST”

“what wait why”

“the world is broken and the people in charge aren’t doing anything, so we’re gonna do something for them”

“didn’t the prophecy say a wise and noble mage would choose someone to conquer the evil?”

“yeah well, i can do magic, and i’m pretty fucking wise and noble, right?”



*hasty statements of agreement*

“exactly. so, i’ve come to the conclusion that i’m the mage of the prophecy. and guess what. i choose myself. now let’s go.”

“I would hang the stars for you if you wanted me to,” the goddess murmured. “Or pluck them down and sew them as sequins for your dress. But I fear they might feel a little outshone.”

Between the gleam in her goddess’s eyes and the dazzling beauty of her smile, she thought the stars might have been long since outstaged already. “You’re ridiculous.” She smiled all the same. 

“You’re beautiful.”

“How about we start with getting some ice cream and maybe a phone number before you bring the heavens down?”

i feel like no one should ever be alone on Sunday mornings.

reputation themed asks
  • …ready for it?: what sort of things do you dream about? do you have more dreams or nightmares?
  • end game: what is your philosophy on ‘forgive and forget’?
  • i did something bad: write about something you shouldn’t have done that you don’t regret.
  • don’t blame me: what is the craziest thing you’ve ever done for love?
  • delicate: confess something that’s currently weighing on your heart/mind.
  • look what you made me do: describe a version of your past self. do you miss the way you used to be?
  • …so it goes: what emotion most often consumes you?
  • gorgeous: who is so attractive to you that it makes you mad?
  • getaway car: if you had to run away from your life, where would you go and who would you take with you?
  • king of my heart: who or what makes you feel at home?
  • dancing with our hands tied: talk about something/someone you’ve lost recently.
  • dress: when you want to look your best, what do you wear?
  • this is why we can’t have nice things: talk about the people who will always have your back.
  • call it what you want: who or what makes you feel instantly better when you’re feeling down?
  • new years day: describe a party you’ve been to and what made it so memorable.

“What’s this?”

Magnus turned his torso round to look at Alec who was sat on top of his desk, a photo frame in his hands. Magnus’ eyes flickered down, seeing over the top of the frame to get a glimpse at the picture. A soft smile filtered to his lips when he realised what it was. 

The frame held a picture of them both.

It was a selfie they had taken one morning when they didn’t have any obligations except to themselves. In the picture Alec was facing the camera, but his eyes were squeezed shut and his mouth was open in a laugh. Magnus was behind him, his chin hooked over Alec’s shoulder and he was pressing a kiss to his cheek, causing the smile on Alec’s face. Magnus’ own face was scrunched up in happiness, his smile evident in the crinkles by his eyes.

Magnus loved that photo. They both looked unapologetically happy and in love. And whenever he looked at that photo, he always remembered that morning when Alec had opened the camera on his phone. He can still hear the laugh that had erupted from Alec as he spontaneously kissed him. He can still remember how Alec had dropped the phone to the mattress and turned to kiss him properly, their selfie long forgotten.

He loved that photo, because he loved the man in it, and he loved the man that he himself had become. He loved how happy a simple photo could make him. So really, it was no question when he set it as his phone wallpaper and printed it off. He looked up at Alec who was no longer looking at the frame, but instead was looking straight at him, the same look of love in his eyes.

“Mm, just a little something to remind me of your beautiful face.”

i left my life and went into exile
my own lonely universe
where i wasted my years away
with nothing left but a slow death
—  t.m.