Oldsaints - Monsters.

something wicked this way comes. modern witches: instagram.

A Madonna with neon halo in Naples, Italy.

Take Me Home, Country Roads by John Denver except it’s playing from your neighbor’s radio that you can hear from your back porch, which you sit out on to relax in spite of the loud buzzing from the lightbulb and the hoards of moths that flock to it on summer evenings like this.

things adam parrish receives in the mail during his first semester at college:

six books from gansey about mythology, ley lines, and glendower, all sticky-noted with things gansey has noticed in his studies. most of these sticky notes have questions for adam on them. some of them have doodles of fast cars and girls with spiky hair. some of them have beatles lyrics. adam keeps all of them, replacing gansey’s sticky notes with his own before sending them back.

thirty-two letters from blue, all of which he has responded to and kept. they both have pay-by-the-minute phones now–a necessity, given the distance in the group–but blue sent adam a two-page letter during his first week at the dorms, and it made adam feel so much less alone that he just never stopped. they talk about a lot of things–what’s happening at fox way (told to blue, away at her own school, over the phone by orla and calla and her mother), how ronan and gansey are doing, whether or not adam’s checked in with the student disability center about accommodations for his hearing, whether or not blue and checked in about her dyslexia, how big and wide and vast the world outside of Henrietta is for two people who have never really left its boundaries. 

three mixtapes from ronan, along with various knickknacks and dream things that make adam’s heart squeeze in his chest and laughter bubble from his lips. a pair of headphones specifically for someone with single-sided deafness, a tin-can that works as a walkie talkie (one of a five-piece set), a bag of candy from that local place that adam likes. letters, but not long, like blue’s–short things, like tracklists or scraps of paper with “i fucking miss you” or “your roommate sounds like a dick” or “2 weeks” written on them in a messy hand

little notes from noah, stuck in with ronan’s mail–things that say “ronan wouldn’t let me put blink182 on your mixtape :(” or “ronan went red for like two days when those flowers showed up” or "we maybe kind of adopted your old dog and she’s the best??”

a small package from fox way that comes once a month–like the one blue gets–full of slightly burned cookies and magical advice and, on a few occasions, notes that calla or maura have found while going through persephone’s things that mention him. calla writes him, sometimes, and adam is getting better at knowing that it’s not just because he meant something to persephone. 

Which OC celebrates every holiday they can?

Bonus which OC celebrates none?

ICARUS

“What is it like to be immortal?” Icarus asks.

“Think of it like this,” Apollo explains, ”when I was small, so was my world. The only sky I knew was the one at the foot of my father’s throne. But as I grew, so did my world. I soared the skies above Sparta and Athens and all I asked for became mine. To be immortal is to know that greater victories always await.”

Apollo rakes his eyes over Icarus’ beating wings, “What is it like to be mortal?”

Icarus says nothing as the gentle brush of Apollo’s fingertips leave burns along his jaw. He says nothing as his lungs fill with ash after every kiss. Nothing as his body begins to feel the weight of his wings pulling him down.

And finally, as the wings give in to the heat, and Icarus falls through the clouds, he closes his eyes and says with a smile,

“It feels like this.”

—If you have to ask, then it was never meant to be yours anyway. (i.s.)   

The Mirror

The Seeker

The Magician

The Dreamer

The Ghost

THE GANGSEY

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 ?

I had this one lucid dream where a lady came up to me and said, “Don’t control the dream,” really softly. I had the same dream again a couple days later but instead of just one lady. I was surrounded by a whole group of people with glowing eyes just saying, “Don’t,” and I got so freaked out that I never tried to lucid dream ever again.

“I think being with you guys is good for me.”