Oldsaints - Monsters.

hi imagine adam and ronan getting into a fight where adam storms out of monmouth and gansey calls him hours later like “can you please come do something with your boyfriend?” and in the background he can hear the clutter of noah and ronan making a makeshift band out of crap around monmouth and playing blink 182′s I Miss You

adam’s kisses are always reflect exactly what he feels. no jokes, no bullshit. when he kisses, he is trying to say something with it from the very moment he begins to lean in. to adam kisses are one of the many ways he can express what he’s feeling towards certain people. with blue, he was never able to say all of the things he felt, nor could he convey them through a kiss. sometimes he regrets it, other times he’s a bit glad he didn’t have the chance to let blue completely see into him that way. with ronan it was so much different. with ronan, adam is completely unable to hold back. he’s speaking a thousand words per second with each kiss and ronan, a master of all languages understands it all. 

ronan’s kisses are softer than anticipated. ronan is a boy that shines from miles away without even trying to, a true child of the moon in the fact that not all the beauty in him is due to the light of those surrounding him,  but they do illuminate him in ways he couldn’t achieve on his own. this is not a well known fact unless you are one of his close friends, so when adam and ronan kiss for the first time, adam isn’t completely surprised. he knows ronan more than ronan thinks he does, but he is still taken aback by the way ronan melted into him, easily accepting and taking all adam had to give. in ronan’s opinion there was no room for him to put up walls when it was between him and adam, adam and him. and though ronan did not have any secrets to share through kisses the way adam did, their kisses were still very much a conversation. adam would pour words into every kiss “i need you, i need this, we need each other” and ronan would press back, his arms around adam’s neck, his hips pressed into adam’s, and the way he’d bite down on adam’s lip, everything was an answer. every move was a thousand “yeses” spilling back into adam.

weird noises: happen in the wee hours

me, unaffected: the only supernatural and ominous force in this place is me and i was here first, so whatever and whoever you are you need to Go

he has a voice eerie like a haunted lake and he wears a white shirt that reads DARK VICTORY and sometimes when i sleep he curls up beside me this dark thin boy from the island every time he opens his mouth i hear sounds from deep within the forest

Gansey: *worries that adam will find out he and blue go out just the two of them to look at the stars and not kiss*

Adam: *worries gansey will find out he and ronan go out just the two of them to plan a fucking fake murder*

holy, holy, holy. these are the words he murmurs into your skin, language of prayer, language of divinity, language of worship. holy, holy, holy. he whispers it into your crook of your neck, rolls the words into the hollow of your throat, into your bones, into your sharp edges. holy, holy, holy. a mantra. a litany. a prayer. holy, holy, holy. the way he looks at you, it’s like he wants to take you apart and study each piece of you, and then maybe he’ll put you back together when he’s done. maybe. holy, holy, holy. he stares at you, so hard you can feel it burning your skin, and you think maybe he’ll kiss you, or maybe he’ll eat you alive. you haven’t decided yet. holy, holy, holy. in the end, it’s a kiss, real as a punch and twice as hard, and it hurts like a bullet pearling into flesh, hurts like his eyes on the back of your neck, on your collarbones, on your lips. holy. holy, holy, holy.

on loving a god | m.c.p (via ara-ne-um)

“that’s the spirit” i say as i gesture to the spirit that’s been haunting my home for years. when will they leave or start contributing to the household by doing something like helping with laundry. when will they pay rent

🍁 Canadian male model Emile Woon

like i know rich people live on a completely different realm of existence than me but how can a 14/15/16 year old kid with ptsd and a probable anxiety disorder be permitted by his own parents to just… roam the continents of the world… essentially by himself… next to no supervision… what’s up with that… “bye tiny son see ya next christmas don’t die” like ?

4. treat him as they’ve treated you | b.s.h