Modern au asoiaf aesthetics:  Arya Stark

“Do not let him tell you that your mouth is made for kissing.
Your mouth is made for the articulate frenzy of revolution, for the
crisp shape of kindness, for lurching picket lines and your
solitary war cry in a law school classroom. It is made
for the brutal pucker of dreaming. Do not let him
cradle your jaw in his audacious hands and
tell you that your mouth is anything
less than the soft and violent
devastation of water, stirring.
The next sentence you begin with “I” -
don’t you dare let it end in “love you.” “ - [what girls are made of]

Gansey runs a red light. That’s the first sign.

Gansey’s been gone for 24 hours, Gansey hasn’t been answering his phone, and Gansey has Henry Cheng in the passenger seat of the Pig. All of this could be explained away. But then Gansey runs a red light and Adam’s heart sinks to his shoes.

“Drive,” he hisses to Ronan, and the BMW roars to life. 

“I can’t beat it,” Ronan shouts over to him. There’s no need to shout, but Adam knows that the panic in his throat is forcing his voice out louder than intended. “This car can’t beat the Pig, not it he’s paying attention.”

“He’s not racing you,” Adam snaps back. “He’s fucking running.”


Adam stares out at the Pig’s taillights and says nothing.

It’s no surprise that Gansey’s heading towards Cabeswater, but he pulls off the road before the usual turnoff. 

“Pull off,” Adam directs. “Stop the—”

But Gansey keeps driving. It’s too dark to see more than the taillights and the short reach of the BMW’s headlights, but Gansey has no caution. 

“Fuck. Fuck, he’s going to hit a fucking tree. Fuck,” Ronan grits out. “What set him off? What happened?”

“I don’t know,” Adam whispers. 


Louder, now. “I don’t know. Give me your phone. I’m calling Blue.”

Ronan hands it to him without looking, peering forward to look for obstacles in his path.

“He’s stopped. Ronan.” Pick up, pick up, Blue, please, he prays.

Ronan pulls up behind the Pig and leaps out, barely managing to park, shouting for Gansey.

“Adam?” Blue sound foggy, sleepy.

“You know that field right before Cabeswater? Where there’s all that sumac by the side of the road.”


“Blue, do you remember where I’m talking about?”

“Yeah. What’s going on?”

“Get here. Now. Get a ride, hotwire a car, take a cab, I don’t care. Get here.”

“Adam Parrish, you tell me what the hell is going on.”

Adam swallows and it feels like razor blades going down his throat.

“It’s Gansey,” he says. “I think he knows.”

The dial tone is his only signal that she’s left.

Adam scrambles out of the car to find Henry Cheng waving his hands uselessly in the air.

“I don’t— I—”

“Leave it, Cheng.” Adam goes to push past him, but Henry grabs his arm.

“I don’t think he was okay to drive. I don’t think he’s—” Henry looks over to where Gansey’s bent double, covering his ears, pulling away from Ronan’s gentling hands. “I don’t think he’s okay.”

“He’s not,” Adam mutters and leaves him behind.

“Gansey,” he calls out as he approaches. “Gansey, it’s all right.”

That gets his attention, but the look on his face is vile, twisted.

“You knew,” he hisses. “You knew all along.” It’s not hate in his voice, which would almost be better. There’s fury, certainly, but it’s terror, more than anything. He sounds like he can’t breathe. “Didn’t you?” he forces out, giving Adam an escape.

“Gansey, what the fuck—” Ronan starts, but Gansey straightens and holds out a hand to hush him. His face is wet, his eyes are sunken, but he holds himself to his full height.

“Adam,” Gansey commands.

“Yes. I knew.” His eyes are burning but he won’t break down, he has to explain—

“Knew what, Jesus—” Ronan is nearly frantic, looking between the two of them.

“You weren’t going to tell me? Ever?”

“No, I— No, we weren’t going to—”

We?” Gansey whirls on Ronan. “Ronan?” Adam lunges forward.

“No, no. Blue. Me and Blue.”

When Gansey turns to him his eyes are huge, betrayed, young. Something about it is sickeningly satisfying. The teenager in him makes him want to lash out, to spread the blame.

“Blue knew the whole time. Longer than any of us. I just found out, months ago. Blue knew before she even met you, any of us. She’s known this whole time.”

It’s cruel and it’s hateful and he hates himself for it, but he can’t stop it. Gansey gapes. He was always a little bit blind about her. Love does that.

“Why?” he finally asks. Adam wants to laugh, hysterical, and then throw up. Because you’re too good, he thinks. Because you’re the best of us. Because you have to pay a price for everything we’ve done and you’re the only thing costly enough. “Why not tell me?”

“We weren’t going to tell you because we’re going to fix it. There’s nothing to tell. We’re going to take care of it.”

“You can’t.” Gansey’s hands start up toward his face, but he stops and redirects them to wrap around his abdomen. “It’s already done. Noah showed me. Time’s a circle. It’s happened. I’m already dead.”

Ronan freezes. He doesn’t make a production of it, but his sudden stillness draws attention as sharply as a shout. Adam watches him watch Gansey and watches something crack behind his eyes. He turns to Adam and Adam wants to duck. The crack spreads, shattering the air between them. Everything is broken.

“We’re going to fix it,” Adam insists, pleading, to both of them. “The favor—We’re going to find away to change it.”

Ronan digs in his pocket for a moment, and for a brief minute Adam’s has a crazy flash of Ronan with knife, with a gun, with a pill, forcing Adam to take it. Dangerous Ronan giving Adam what he deserves.

He throws Adam the keys to the BMW. “Take Cheng home,” he says, and turns away.


Ronan puts a hand on Gansey’s back and steers him away, towards Cabeswater. 

“Gansey, please,” Adam calls out. Neither of them turn. “I’m sorry, I’m so—” the trees and the darkness swallow them, and Adam is alone.

Henry Cheng takes the keys out of his limp hand after about a minute of silence.

“Come on,” he says, nudging Adam with surprising kindness. “Come on.” 

Adam stumbles, but he doesn’t fall. Henry guides him to the car with one hand on his elbow.

“Come on,” Henry says gently, opening the passenger door for him. “It’s gonna— Come on. Come on, Adam.”

A post I’m starting for tiny-septic-box-sam since they asked for some help staving off a panic attack. 

As I said in the ask, I don’t know what sounds may make it worse (the plucking of a guitar, for example, is something I can only take in certain moods). So I’m going to include everything I can find that has ever relaxed me. I hope it helps you (and anyone else!)

Cat purrs. FOR NINE HOURS. -

Buckethead - For Mom

Buckethead - All in the Waiting 

Flow (Flash Game) -

Classic Bejeweled (flash game) -

Piano Covers of your favorite jams

literally 11 hours of ocean sounds -

  • south florida:........ sweet no school and work on monday
Luke Allen-Gale on Twitter
“And just one more for the @CarlBeukes Gabriel fans #dominion have a great weekend x”
Daiya Reverse Bang Teaser #2

“You could have had anything – wished for anything – and you wished for me.”

Just saying words as open as these makes Kazuya’s skin crawl with embarrassment and his stomach flutter with nerves. He must be getting sick, he tries to tell himself, but as a single word, an urgent question forces its way out of his mouth, he has to admit that that’s a lie.


Eijun can’t quite get himself to face Kazuya. It’s like he’s blinding, somehow, too bright to look at directly. His face feels too warm and he has half a mind to give a snappy retort, as it has become a habit around the boy-turned-djinn-turned-boy-again.

But he can hear the sincerity in Miyuki’s voice and sense his discomfort, so Eijun forces himself to lift his eyes as much as he can – somewhere around the other boy’s collarbone area – to mumble his answer. He owes him that much, doesn’t he?

“But I don’t want anything else.”

The quiet reply hangs between them, suspended and solid, stretching and taking up space in the thick silence.

Miyuki stares down at Sawamura’s slightly bent head, eyes wide in disbelief. If he was annoyed at him before for not looking him in the eye, he is about twice as happy now that the younger is the doing the exact opposite. He can see red creeping up Sawamura’s neck and feel his own ears warming in response to the unexpected answer.

Unexpected, just the way Sawamura is as Kazuya has learned, but also strangely relieving. The knot amidst all the butterflies gathering in his middle like a storm suddenly feels loose, light. He is just about able to bend his smile into a smirk, a teasing remark ready on his lips.

“Can I have a fourth wish?” Sawamura once again takes the wind out of his sails.

im getting too invested in soulmate aus fuc k

lik e idk i imagine that there would obviously be some complications. ppl born without soulmates, people who simply never meet their soulmates, soulmates who meet but then one dies pr early on in the relationship. people who arent ther soulmate’s soulmate

an d so its 2015 and people would stop being so strict with only engaging in relationships with their own soulmate an d there would be old farts who find it disgusting an d ppl would be like “jfc grandma let me live” and idk soulmate aus are best

  • dad:you won't even tell me the name of the show you're going to canada for
  • me:you wouldn't be interested so there's no point
  • dad:it doesn't mean i can't still look it up
  • me:NO NONONON ON ONO NO NONONO NONO!!!!!! NO!!!!!!!!!!!

Well, howtotrainyouryami Has Just Reached 250 Followers! I Wasn’t Planning On Doing Another Celebration Picture Until 300, But There Is Something I’d Like To Celebrate And Now Seemed Like As Good An Excuse As Any.

I Have A Few Followers Who Seem To Like Pretty Much All My Posts For This Blog, To The Point Where Just Seeing Their Usernames Makes My Day A Little Better, And I Wanted To Take This Opportunity To Thank Them…

-I Should Add Before I Start That I Do Appreciate All Of You! (Believe Me, If I Didn’t I Wouldn’t Spend Nearly As Much Time Going Through Reblogs And Reading Tags). There Are Just Three People Who I Feel Deserve Some Recognition For All They’ve Done To Help Me On My Way.

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