#alysmuses

pain is weakness leaving the body, or so it’s said || accepting

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          It’s a new venture, but perhaps not one he should’ve gone looking for: stomach’s going to bruise smartly, and less prettily than a galaxy, and his face is already red-purple blooming at the jaw, closed-fist-shaped. His own hands ache like he’s been punching granite. Might as well have been, for all the effect he’s had on the guy who’d started it.

pain is weakness leaving the body, or so it’s said || accepting

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     Unusually burning hot – he’s not got a fever, has he? No, he’s checked his temperature. But everything makes him overheated, and he can’t sleep. So he steps out of the guest bedroom in nothing more than a vest and stripy shorts, and boy, the chill of the the snow on bare skin is a shock, earning a tired peep. He takes a few steps into the cold, the lodge still looming over him, and takes a seat. Stares into the trees, all blurry without his glasses.

pfft who needs to get clean.

y is this me.

Send 💗 to kiss my muse tenderly without explanation

“Chris...” The name came out soft against his lips, maybe a small prayer or praise, but either way in awe. Seriously, Chris was such a perfect boyfriend, even if his dumb, sexy beard made kisses itchy, or if he constantly wanted to grab his butt. Perfect boyfriend, and he was so lucky. 

Phichit held onto his shoulders and stood on his tip toes, European genes be damned, and he pressed a kiss back on Chris’s lips, as gentle as the first one. He sighed softly into the kiss, taking the time to slide their lips together as he smiled against Chris’s mouth, satisfied. He could sit for hours doing just this, tenderly making out with Chris. He could do that right now.

               so take my hand my friend, and we'll combat the dark together

ohh my god. oh my goood. i love.