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TVSTRANGERTHINGS
we're not kids anymore.
sheepfilms

祝日 / Permanent Vacation

Kiana Khansmith
taylor price

Andulka
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almost home

tannertan36

⁂

if i look back, i am lost
Peter Solarz
cherry valley forever

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
RMH
Game of Thrones Daily
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda

pixel skylines
Cosimo Galluzzi
seen from Malaysia
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seen from Malaysia
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@gideonhart
www.instagram.com/davidvandartel
hopping on this well deserved train 2 also say i would risk it all for gideon in a heartbeat without QUESTION
you’re always so lovely and myles/tommy are both important people in gideon’s life.
i would risk it all for gideon in a heartbeat thank u for coming to my ted talk.
gideon says he hopes you have nice dreams.
──────── 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐞, like a wound.
Jacob Elordi as Noah Flynn in Kissing Booth 2 Trailer
✧・゚:* / @scarfwere
𝘛𝘏𝘌 𝘚𝘊𝘌𝘕𝘛 𝘖𝘍 𝘚𝘞𝘌𝘌𝘛 𝘓𝘈𝘝𝘌𝘕𝘋𝘌𝘙 𝘍𝘐𝘓𝘓𝘚 𝘛𝘏𝘌 𝘙𝘖𝘖𝘔. sun pours through the large windows on this golden morning and gideon stands in the spotlight, dozens of new york commuters at his feet, and they're all carried by their dreams, or passion, or the little mouths relying on them that only see the bright things.
he pivots to glance back at the boy he met under the trees━━━ he has an artist’s eyes.
❝ i spend more time here than at home. ❞ a helpful bursary has allowed him this studio. a space where he can get lost in the rhythm of editing and take a nap on the couch when he realizes he hasn’t eaten in nine hours. it’s his quiet spot, his inspiring shrine, his pride. his own work covers his desk; photographs of old friends, brazen roommates, and the new souls that have touched him here in this immortal city.
❝ the owner of the café downstairs lets me use the microwave and sometimes she’ll leave muffins outside my door. i told her she gets free baby photos for life. ❞
Someone once said: “I miss home but I do not know if it’s the right place for me to grow.” And it hit me really hard
✧・゚:*, myles:
it astounds him sometimes that gideon is willing to give so much of himself when myles didn’t feel like he deserved any. he wants to tell the other male that he’s wrong, that there’s parts of myles’ past that he barely remembers that would argue against that very sentiment. but he bites them back, swallows them down like the coffee that now felt like a rock in his stomach. myles’ is pressed so tightly into his own world in gideon’s arms that it’s a surprise when the other pulls him back, eyes slightly glassy as the question has him squirming in gideon’s grasp, gaze darting everywhere to shy away from the other.
it’s an easy enough question, at first. “no! no, of course not, i-i’d never want to hurt you, gideon. but…” his gaze falls, shoulders slumping as he becomes more resigned to gideon’s desire to talk this out. “what if it’s not always up to me? what if there’s a deeper part that i can’t fucking control that does like that shit? what then?”
𝐖𝐄’𝐑𝐄 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐀 𝐌𝐈𝐗 𝐎𝐅 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍, 𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐍’𝐓 𝐖𝐄? gideon has never asked for perfection ━━━━━━━━━ gladly, i would love the bruised parts of you. maybe today he will be granted permission. this is a battle he often loses but there’s a crack in the fortress and so he adds more pressure, more heart, more devotion, and a thumb rubs circles into his shoulder while the loss of control he fears most is somberly expressed.
❝ nobody controls you, myles. ❞
he can’t be held. he’s a runner.
❝ you always do whatever the hell you want. you’re not chained to this. ❞ what this is, he doesn’t know. the world of spirits, of monsters, is still morning-fresh to him. ❝ show that part of you who’s boss. ❞
Sylvia Plath ― Letters Home
fandomless original character. dreamwalker. weapon against the spirits.
❝ the boy closes his eyes and sees a million dreams that don’t belong to him. you’re trembling. he sits with you. for a moment, you feel a little better. for a moment, you dream softly. ❞
forever shelter and shield, a deep protectiveness burns within as he spots a familiar figure through the crack of hal’s bedroom door. jamie goddamn madrox at six in the morning. by the time his sister wakes, he’s leaning against the counter with a warm mug gripped between palms —————— this is the one path he doesn’t want her to go down again.
she gave him her heart and all he gave her was the dark.
❝ no need to be stealthy. i know he’s in there. ❞
disappointment colors his words. the sun is still low in the sky, a quarter way through its climb, and a faint spear of golden light passes through the kitchen window to brush his cheek as he sighs. time and time again, jamie has shown her who he is ; non-committal, a hurricane of good times and painful goodbyes. ❝ i don’t get you. he left out of nowhere and never looked back. ❞ @securcity
slowbrn:
it’s uncomfortable sometimes to have gideon know almost exactly what he’s thinking; few people can guess what’s going on in myles’ head at a given time (the boy himself being one of them), but somehow the other male just seems to know. it has him shifting restlessly, eyelids heavy despite his mental pleas to stay awake. he’s unbelievably cold without the coffee mug in his hands, moving without a second thought as gideon moves to the counter so he can press himself against the other, elbows resting on his thighs as he takes a deep breath in and out. maybe it’s better this way; if gideon is wrong and becomes horrified by what myles tells him, than he’ll finally have reason to let myles leave.
“i dream about hurting people. about…. about luring them into dark alleys and— and doing unspeakable things to them while they scream for me to stop. and they used to be nameless people… just strangers from a bar who were too drunk to know any better. but now that i’m living with you…. i hurt you. i hurt my siblings. i hurt people that i love over, and over. it’s so real that half the time i don’t know if i’m awake or not.” his voice grows too tight to continue, head pulling back enough so he can glance up at gideon with tired eyes, something darker looming in amber hues before he’s ducking his head again and pressing it to gideon’s chest. “that— that’s not the worst part. sometimes…. sometimes i think i like it.”
the daggers in his back have meaning now. myles spars with him because he truly believes he will be the reason for his downfall. his lies, his aggression, it’s all an act of infuriating sacrifice. a gust of sadness blows through him as the truth is revealed because , just like gideon, he deserves to know what freedom feels like. but with that wave also comes a flash of hope —————— it’s delicate, this cry for help, and the silence that follows is nothing short of loving.
a glimpse of his good has always been enough for the dreamwalker.
❝ you… no, myles. you’re not a killer. ❞
he hushes him with a kiss to the head, arms folding around the darkened, damp soul like wings —————— desperate to banish his fear. these gruesome scenes must be the work of something sinister. there’s too much gideon doesn’t know about his gifts, about the shadows that walk with him in dreams that don’t belong to him. it’s almost a reason to call home: almost.
gripping him by the shoulders, he holds him back and hunts for his gaze to make a point. ❝ look me in the eyes and tell me you’d find pleasure in hurting me. tell me. ❞ @pcrtysovcr
Jacob Elordi for V Man Magazine | Photographed by Chris Colls.
aging is realizing you’ve fallen into a ritual of enjoying a tea after dinner every night. just like your grandparents.
something spiritual about grocery shopping with headphones in