d r e a m w a l k e r

you hungry & haunted boy. i know, i know. you want so badly to feel alive. you want so badly to be born again.

[davidvandartel]

www.instagram.com/davidvandartel

[gideonhart]

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.

[gideonhart]

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. 

[scarfwere]

────────  𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐞, ｌｉｋｅ  ａ  ｗｏｕｎｄ．

[ssweeneys]

Jacob Elordi as Noah Flynn in Kissing Booth 2 Trailer

[gideonhart]

✧･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.    ❞  

[acafethatslove]

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

[gideonhart]

✧･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.  ❞  

[flowerytale]

Sylvia Plath ― Letters Home

[ssweeneys]

[gideonhart]

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.      ❞ 

[gideonhart]

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​      

[gideonhart]

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​      

[alexasdemies]

Jacob Elordi for V Man Magazine | Photographed by Chris Colls.

[usercatra]

[gideonhart]

aging is realizing you’ve fallen into a ritual of enjoying a tea after dinner every night. just like your grandparents.

[anancientheart]

something spiritual about grocery shopping with headphones in