Follow Your Passion: A Seamless Tumblr Journey
FUCK ME UP - Blog Posts
wounds of the physical and emotional kind
https://archiveofourown.org/works/36043555
summary:
In the doorway, a scraggly man stands, looking like a deer caught in the headlights now that Hizashi’s eyes are open. After all, Aizawa Shouta hasn’t been in Hizashi’s life in years, not since after graduation and not by Hizashi’s choice. Anger flares within his chest.
“What are you doing here?”
~~~~~~~
Or: After years of radio silence, Aizawa Shouta visits a hospitalized Yamada Hizashi. Hizashi isn't pleased.
posted a little hurt no comfort drabble (〃￣︶￣) i didn't like it much, but i might return to the concept/expand upon it and make it hurt/comfort in the future
we goin back to my shipping roots with this one 🔥🔥
Hannon le.
Just a few snippets of the best backup vocals off Folie A Deux (listen all the way through, you won’t regret it)
America’s Sweethearts backup vocals/instruments… truly magical!
(requested by anonymous)
send me your audio requests in my inbox or message them to me!
Some of the best backup vocals off MANIA!
(requested by @jason-wentz )
send your audio request through my inbox or message them to me!!
Golden Backup Vocals
(requested by @stayfrostymilk-tea )
send me your audio requests through my inbox or message them to me!
This is probably what Just One Yesterday would sound like from outside the studio.
(i am taking requests now!!)
My dream masked man.
I can't wait for you to fuck me up
In a minute minute. In a fucking minute.
Imagine this: Ronan Lynch kisses with his eyes wide open because otherwise he is afraid he might be dreaming
It’s because they’re in his bed at Monmouth and he’s had this exact dream so many times.
At the Barns it’s different. At St. Agnes it’s different. Hell, even naps in Cabeswater are different. Those are places he inhabits with wakefulness and awareness. The awareness that comes from being amplified by a place and feeling too big for your skin.
But here he simply is. Here he is not a king or a god or a worshiper. Here he is a boy who dances with sleep, sometimes leading and sometimes following. Who knows the cracks on his ceiling like he knows the back roads of Henrietta. Who sometimes dreams of tangled sheets and tingling lips and the rush of blood to every point of contact. Who wakes up alone.
Who just this evening had tangled sheets and tingling lips and the rush of blood to every point of contact and then passed into dreaming alone. Who woke up just now with sleep bleary eyes and a glow-in-the-dark clock (not a dream, a gag gift from Gansey) telling him that it’s just after 3:30 AM and Adam Parrish is still next to him.
Here, amidst his haphazard collection of impossible things, an impossible boy. All those dreams and he had never once dared to hope…
But it has to be real, doesn’t it? That’s what waking up means, bringing yourself through to fruition, reborn every day with weight and want and need and. Being. Knowing.
He knows. He thinks he knows. He traces his finger down the slope of Adam’s shoulder where the shine of pale skin in the light of the streetlamp bleeds into the shine of pale sheets. Dreams bleeding into reality.
Hope is a form of dreaming, right?
Adam stirs and Ronan pulls his hand away. He doesn’t mean to wake him, would never mean to take him from sleep any more than he would mean to take him from anything else Adam finds important.
Adam wakes anyway. He rolls onto his side so that he’s facing Ronan and looks at him with heavy lids. He yawns and stretches and settles again and reaches out to run his hand gently over Ronan’s head. The pleasant tug of his fingers against Ronan’s short short hairs is so satisfying. Adam’s hand comes to a rest against his cheek and Ronan tilts his head into it, body heavy with sleep but still drawn to Adam’s touch like Adam’s gravity and the earth’s gravity have equal weight.
They don’t. The tug of Adam is so much stronger.
“You’re awake,” Adam says, voice low.
Ronan hums his reply.
“God,” Adam says. He takes a deep breath and then exhales, long and slow. “God, god.” And the word sounds different every time.
God, the dark suits you.
God, I never knew there was touch like this.
God, our bodies are a riot in the quiet night.
Ronan agrees, but words are insufficient, so he kisses Adam instead. Because he wants to. Because he wants to prove that they’re real, that this moment is made of flesh and blood.
Adam closes his eyes, already halfway back to sleep, but Ronan keeps his open and clings to this.
Up close Adam’s freckles blur into one another. His eyelids twitch with the restless movement of his eyes beneath them. Ronan slides his hand around Adam’s lower back and pulls him closer. Adam’s eyelashes flutter, then still. They fan out large against the gentle slope of his cheek.
He of impossible being. He of passionate boyhood. He of crackling magic straining against the frame of one of the people Ronan loves the most in the world. He, he, he.
It was always going to be a he, Ronan knows now, but he feels lucky that it’s this he, that it’s him. That Adam wants him back. That he’s willing to tangle himself up in Ronan’s sheets and Ronan’s limbs. That he’ll give parts of himself to Ronan, parts he’d previously been holding so tightly.
So Ronan keeps his eyes open, watches for the threshold between asleep and awake, and makes sure to keep his promise to find Adam on either side of the divide.
the best parts of the tdt outtakes:
when it’s ronan’s turn to take out the trash he takes the bag to kavinsky’s place and dumps garbage all over his lawn and/or car
actual puppy richard campbell gansey iii hoping that blue will notice he’s giving consideration to adam’s work scedule; blue not noticing because she’s too busy fixing her hair
“why can’t you be like you used to be?” / “i don’t know”
gansey, ronan, and noah deciding that the dead nightmare-bird-man thing was too gross to deal with without first showing it to blue and getting the Blue Sargent Stamp of Approval on the fact that it’s gross as hell
ronan looking at jesse dittley’s yard and seeing that all the random debris had been repurposed for flowers and beauty and recognizing that as a sign that blue had been there, how sweet is that
“i was unaware kavinsky was familiar with the nuances of the united states postal service” gansey u are being blackmailed right now pls act like it
ronan quoting ovid at an inappropriate time; adam recognizing it, being “furious” and probably turned on
“ronan,” he’d said, voice tragic, already blaming himself, making it about them and not ronan, “you damn fool”
the entirety of the last scene, which i’m not going to touch with my dirty hands
in conclusion: see you all in hell bc i’m there now
literally do not ever think about ronan who hasn’t laughed truly in years giggling against adam parrish’s lips i repeat do Not
Rihanna arrives to the Guggenheim Museum to celebrate her new self-titled book in New York City (October 11, 2019)