
As Adam stared at his lap, penitent, he mused that there was something musical about Ronan when he swore, a careful and loving precision to the way he fit the words together, a black-painted poetry. It was far less hateful sounding than when he didn’t swear.
rewoprewolf reblogged this from bawshii
lordwormius liked this
robbiereyess reblogged this from dickie-grayson-archive
ikolmagpie reblogged this from bawshii
parkscoobin reblogged this from quicksillver
peachyjude liked this white, cis (she/her), bisexual
eighteen. i'm my own perfect girlfriend.