Baz's beautifully crooked nose

Went to go see the movie bout some pretty amazing digging

this was my favourite part

hi hi!!

I was trying to write and then wanted to find something in old chapters and then lost myself on tumblr instead here's a cool thing I wrote in chapter 4 (am now writing chapter 7 btw!!) that i haven't shared yet!

Another hour of this hell and I’ll grab Mordelia and go, [Simon] thought, opening his book, willing his eyes, his traitorous mind, to focus on the words. In vain.

Again and again, they returned to Mr Pitch. To the grey eyes that never appeared haunted or empty when they rested on him. To the crooked nose that matched his front teeth. The well-defined lips and the voice that made Simon’s skin pebble and his blood rush, coursing through his veins like a mad dog. To the long legs that Simon had imagined wrapped around his waist countless times and to the fingers that had lingered on his arm, that had brushed his own as glasses passed between them, that had nearly, nearly cupped his face, in the dark. In secret. On the night when everything changed.

Christ, he wanted him.

He wanted to hold his hand in public and to lick his skin in private. He wanted to make him laugh when he could and kiss his sadness away when he couldn’t. He wanted to lace his arms around his waist in the narrowness of his small bed and to smell the salty tang of his sweat in the morning. 

He wanted to drown in the citrusy smell of his cologne. He wanted to sniff him like a sodding dog and the thought neither bothered nor shamed him.

He wanted it all.

So much more than the pleasures of the flesh.