#wild eyes

[hufflepuffia]

Rewatching the EXU Calamity wrap up and cracking up if Brennan committed to the Bolo is a dragon bit in this moment 😂

[blixabargelds]

things you said while we were driving plssssssss (4 whatever ship u so desire)

hellooo did this for clegan specifically for me and @swifty-fox's au we've been cooking we lov this version of our boys hope u do too gdfjff vague context: modern au where they are both unwell 🙃 this also ended up being 1.5k whoops

cw anorexia

John finds him in their usual spot. The camera nestled in the far corner of the yard hasn’t worked for months, operating solely as a fear mongering tactic. There’s a nook beneath it, tucked between the outside wall and the yard fence. It’s a good place for hiding. For trading cigarettes for gum, for kissing. Gale has only used it to hide lately. He sits against the wall, pulling at the hem of his fraying t-shirt, watching the strange glide of his pale skin slide over the bones of his hand, flexing his knuckles. There’s a rustling in the foliage beyond the fence. Gale looks up, expecting to see a rat, and instead comes face to face with John for the first time in weeks. He’s grinning. Gale blinks at him, bewildered, heart kicking in his chest, as John is grinning right at him. He’s got a beanie pulled down low despite the summer air, and he’s brandishing honest to God bolt cutters.

“Jesus, John,” Gale says. 

John winks as he cuts the fence. “C’mon, baby. We’re goin’ for a ride.”

...

“You look worse,” John says, tapping his restless fingers against the steering wheel and fiddling with the stereo. 

“Ain’t as bad off as you,” Gale says. “What’s with the moustache?”

John laughs. Turns to Gale with eyes gleaming. “Straight razors, baby! World is your oyster.” 

Gale rolls his eyes and smiles. He drops his head back against the carseat, pulling his sweater closer around his body as the breeze rushes in from John’s open window. There’s some upbeat old song rattling its way out of the tiny speakers, John singing along loudly as he vibrates in his seat. Gale rolls his head on his neck lazily to look at him. He seems okay. Curls grown past his brows, flopping down over them in gorgeous, loose spirals. He’s got shadows under his eyes, purpling and deep, but he’s boundless with energy that might be infectious if Gale weren’t so hungry. He watches as John dances in one place, grin still plastered below that stupid little moustache.

“You okay, Bucky?” 

“Peachy,” John smiles at him. He squints, then, looking at Gale with scrutiny, and far too much time with his eyes off the road. “You okay?”

“Mm,” Gale says. He shifts a little, feeling his seatbelt dig into his hip bones. “Better now you’re back.”

“Huh?” John says over the roar of the wind. “Sorry, what was that? You gone soft on me, Buck?”

Gale groans in false irritation. Says quietly, “Heard me the first time, John.” 

John throws his head back and laughs. Leans out the window like a dog and hollers down the open road, one hand on the wheel and the other on the door, and Gale drags him back inside as he swerves. The midday sun beats down on the hood of the car, trees rushing past, and as Gale settles back into his seat he watches, and tries to identify them. He grows tired after a while. Tucks his legs up and leans into the passenger side door, eyes drifting shut. 

“Where we goin’, Bucky,” he says, keeping them closed.

“Takin’ you on holiday, doll,” John says. “Gonna find you a diner and feed you up. Or you can watch me, because I’m fuckin’ starving. Then we’ll get a motel, one of those ones with the heart shaped beds. And I got a friend down South, real sweet kid, you’ll like him, Buck, you’ll really get on. He’s kinda loud, y’know, but I know you like that, really, and he’s got all these fuckin’ baseball cards. Which ain’t your thing, I know, but, he’s real sweet. Lives with his boyfriend, Kenny, he’s got the biggest garage you ever seen. But we’ll get the motel first. One of those ones with a claw foot tub. But we’ll get to a diner first, ’cos I’m starving. You starving, doll?”

Gale hums in vague acknowledgement. The motion of the car rocks him into a nodding state, and he thinks he might sleep like the dead with nobody interrupting to check on him. 

...

“Buck.”

Gale shrugs off a hand on his shoulder. 

“Buck.”

Gale groans, tucking his face further into the loose hood of his sweater, turning away. 

“Shit- Gale. Gale.”

“Wh’sit?” Gale mumbles. 

“Aw, Jesus, thank God,” John is saying, continuing to jostle Gale roughly from his doze. Gale shivers as he comes to, entire body laden with the aching remains of sleep. He can’t seem to shake it off fully. He opens his eyes, sees John’s pinched face swimming in front of him. They’re still in the car, but it’s stopped moving. “You fuckin’- been parked here half an hour, baby, you wouldn’t- fuck, you’re freezing.”

Gale is. He becomes aware of it like falling; gradually, then all at once, full-bodied shudders ripping through him, making his teeth chatter. He hugs his arms tighter around himself, fingers brushing against his shaking ribs. He looks groggily out of the window. The light outside is milky, but not as if it’s fading- more like it’s just begun to birth.

“Wh’re are we?” he says. His jaw is clenched against the chill in his bones, pushing his words out in odd slurs.

“Uh,” John’s head whips around. As he comes further into focus, Gale can see the shadows under his eyes have darkened still, a vaguely wild expression in his face. “I don’t know. Been drivin’ all night. I think- fuck, I think I had the window open too long or somethin’, Buck, I turned around a while back and your lips were all blue.”

Gale absently presses trembling fingers to his mouth. “’M fine.”

“We gotta find that diner,” John says. “Hey, Gale, look at me. When’s the last time you ate, huh? Can you remember for me, darlin’?”

Gale scrunches his eyes shut again. Tries hard to think. “Y’mean solid food.”

He hears John hiss. “Ah, shit.”

Gale grunts around the pain in his stomach. “Don’t go back, Bucky, please.”

“We’re not, don’t worry, I wouldn’t,” John says. He’s shuffling around, now, and Gale reopens his eyes to see him leaning into the back of the car, knocking aside various debris and pulling out a bag of chips. Gale wrinkles his nose, and shakes his head. “Look, I know you’re stubborn, but I’m freaked out, alright, baby. You don’t look so hot, Buck.”

“’M fine,” Gale says. He musters up more conviction, sitting straighter in his seat despite the stiffness in his spine. “Just give me a jacket.”

“I haven’t got one, Buck, it’s fuckin’ July.” John drops the bag of chips, continuing his root around until he finds a can of coke. Gale sets his jaw at the glaring red of it. “Just half. Buck, c’mon. American staple, huh? Goes with the whole trip. Just a bit of sugar, baby, then we’ll find that heart shaped bed. It ain’t half as bad as that shit you get back there, is it?”

Gale’s nostrils flare. John’s impossible when he’s got a bee in his bonnet, and Gale takes the offending can if only to shut him up; get him driving once more. He cracks it suspiciously. Takes a sniff. 

“Windin’ me up, now, Gale, it ain’t gonna hurt you,” John says. He turns to the wheel either way. Shoves the key in the ignition and looks back at him with a pointed scowl.

“You ain’t never cared before,” Gale says. He’s still looking at the tab of the can with disdain. 

“Never been this far from fuckin’ medical advice with you before,” John says. “Didn’t think I needed- fuck, was this stupid?”

“Jesus, Bucky,” Gale says. “It’s fine. I’m fine. Look.”

Gale bites down on his bravado. Inhales deep and shaky, fingers denting the can with the force of his grip, the little click click click of the bending metal pacing with the thrum of his heart. He takes a sip. Nausea washes over his tongue like thick honey. Every sugary pop of the soda on his taste buds tingles all the way down to his empty, clenching stomach, heavy in it, and poisonous. He hasn’t tasted anything so good in years. John’s eyes are boring into the side of his head as he turns the car out of the shoulder. Gale drinks down another gulp, larger and stinging. So, so sweet. He lowers the can, licks his lips, gathering the stray, sticky droplets, and tries not to moan in wretched pleasure. He turns to John instead, watching his jaw grind against the tug of a smile.

“Okay?” Gale says. 

“Okay when you stop damn shakin’,” says John. 

He puts his hand on Gale’s leg, leaning past the gear stick as they veer back onto the highway. His long fingers reach around to the soft underside of Gale’s knee, his thumb brushing gently at the lower part of his inner thigh. Gale tries not to bounce his leg at the feel of sugar filling his veins. 

“Heart shaped bed, huh, Bucky?” he says. 

John smirks at the road. “Drink your fuckin’ soda.” 

Gale curls his bony fingers over John’s hand on his thigh. Grimaces, and takes another sip. 

“There he is,” John says. “Y’alright, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, Bucky,” Gale smiles. “Told you so.”

[johnnyslittleanimalblog]

Windows to the Soul - 86751b+ by Jen Hall Via Flickr: How about her beautiful eyes? When I see this photo I can still feel how intense and beautiful our momentary eye contact was. Thoughts on the random fur across her eye? I kind of like it. Masai Mara, Kenya

[nalit-source]

Wild Eyes (Rose Hill Series) by Elsie Silver

"It hits me all at once that I inexplicably want so much with him."

[maddiesflame]

Wild Eyes headers

like/reblog if saved © maddiesflame

[brainddeadd]

[6gumi]

EEEEEEK . . . i’ve been on a manhwa marathon for the past few days . . . AM SO HAPPI FOR THEM . . . (๑´ㅂ`๑)

[glamboyl]

Black Panther photo by Alan Root

[scrivnomancer]

Goodnight out there, whatever you are.

[wishfulimaginings]

Is Elsie Silver an Acotar fan?

Just saw her newest release and the upcoming book.

They sound like a Nessian and a Feysand book.

The dude's name is Rhys. She's not even trying to be subtle at this point

[whats-in-a-sentence]

We had hardly sunk from view when the man flew past us on the road. Amid a rolling cloud of dust I caught a glimpse of a pale, agitated face – a face with horror in ever lineament, the mouth open, the eyes staring wildly in front.

"The Illustrated Sherlock Holmes Treasury" - Sir Arthur Conan Doyle

[island-in-ignorance]

Just dropping in to say Elsie Silver OWNS ME after releasing Wild Eyes.

I'm going to be so annoying about this book no one is prepared.

[joyburble]

I really enjoyed this Korean manga called Gwang-an. It's a historical romance, reasonably silly and very entertaining with intriguing characters who develop quite a bit, lots of explicit sex, some pretty funny moments, and good tropery.

The first part I read on one site that has comments, and the comments on the sex scenes are a total joy. The translation is dodgy but you can work it out.

The second season I read on a different site with regrettably no virtual collective commentary sofa, but it's got professional translation, fun additional characters, and a much stronger plot with a spectacularly deranged assassination plan, lived up to by an equally ridiculous counter-plan that we only find out about in retrospect.

The high point for me was the sweetest love letter.

Links follow for tumblr reasons ...

[rndmraichu]

10/10

[theprocrastinatingredkitty]

I CAN FEEL THE SEASON 2 VIBES ALREADY SINCE THEY CHANGED THE COVER 👁👄👁

THEY LOOK LIKE A POWER COUPLE HERE I STG

YAAAASSS GORL, CLAIM YOUR CROWN PRINCEEEE