allthroughoursplendor

[allthroughoursplendor]

prompt meme fills return!! I am ALMOST DONE with @candefacio​‘s which is highly exciting-- this one is Connor Walsh + 29. takes place in some unspecified future in which Oliver Finds Shit Out, and it is very upsetting because apparently that’s what I like to do to my son!!

(prompt meme!)

“Connor,” Oliver says, and he’s long since stopped sounding angry or sad. He just sounds tired now, and that scares Connor more than anything else. He’s on his feet, his posture slumped, and he rubs his hand weakly over his face before speaking. “I am two seconds away from walking out the door, so that’s the amount of time you have to say something that’ll convince me to stay.”

Connor’s spent. The last year has exhausted all of his defenses; he can’t pretend he has any kind of facade anymore. He can’t pretend not to be angry or upset or anxious or stretched beyond his limits. And he can’t pretend that talking to Oliver like this isn’t devastating.

So he says the only thing that’s left to him: “I love you.”

It’s not enough to keep Oliver there, but it’s enough to make him hesitate, his expression wary. It’s enough to buy Connor time to keep talking.

“I love you, and—I can tell you I’m sorry till I run out of breath, and I don’t know if you’ll believe it, but it’s true. I’m sorry. I am. I know I’ve been lying to you for months, big, awful lies, and I know you might not get it, but—there were other people, not just me, that would have gotten hurt if I told you the truth. It’s not just about me. And I didn’t—I never wanted you mixed up in all this, you know that. Everything else in my life is a fucking mess, and I can barely keep it all straight anymore, everything we’ve done, all the lies we’ve told—and you’re good, Ollie, you’re so good. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I never wanted to hurt that. I never wanted to hurt you.”

Connor can hear the words coming out too quickly, too shaky and uncertain; his pulse is thudding in his ears, his chest is hitching with the speed of his breath, his fingers clutching frantically at his chair to stop himself from shaking too hard. He knows it’s too little too late—he knows that he’s been hurting Oliver for months, that there’s no way not to hurt him anymore. But he can’t stop himself, not now. Not when he might be about to lose everything.

“Please,” he says, his voice breaking. “Ollie—I need you. I won’t ever lie to you again. I promise. I’ll tell you everything. Just—please—stay. Please don’t give up on me.”

Oliver stays standing for a long moment, long enough that Connor actually feels scared, for the first time, that he might not be able to reach him, that it might really be over. Then he closes his eyes, just for a moment, and crosses the room to sit down at the kitchen counter.

His expression hasn’t softened. He’s sitting as far away from Connor as physically possible. But he’s still here. That’s all Connor needs right now.

“Okay,” Oliver says, his voice dull. “Tell me everything.”

[allthroughoursplendor]

more prompt meme!! for @candefacio yet again, this time Ronan + 16, which is just a mean thing to prompt and took me a very long time and led to future fic of Sadness and Father Issues, so ENJOY THAT. (prompt post!)

“I used to think you were the best thing in my life.”

The breeze is light on Ronan’s face, warm. Golden sunlight is casting dappled patches through the full leaves of the tree whose trunk is supporting the slightly slumped line of his back. It’s nearing the end of autumn out there, in the real world, but Cabeswater has manufactured a perfect summer day for him, for this.

Ronan’s hand is tracing across the dirt, feeling it give beneath his fingers, slowly burying them deeper beneath the surface. It helps him feel connected, the tingle of power from Cabeswater trickling through his veins, an awareness of everything. If his fingers stay buried deep enough, he can feel all of it. He can be the wind rustling through the tree, the trembling leaves, the gold cascade of sunlight, the distant call of birds. It helps steady him. It helps him face this.

“I thought it for years. Even after I found out—all of it. The truth. About Mom, about everything. I wouldn’t have forgiven anyone else for lying to me for so long.” His breath, as he exhales, is shaky, but he keeps his voice steady as he speaks. “But you were my father.

“You were everything to me for so long. I thought, all the time, how lucky I was to have you. I used to lie awake at night, after my prayers, and think about all of the bad things that could happen to me. Everything in my life I could lose. And I compared it all to losing you, and nothing seemed even nearly as bad.

“You were the best thing in my life. You were everything to me. I thought—” A quick, wry twist of his mouth. “I thought you were a dream come true.”

He stays silent for a moment, letting the irony linger in the air. It’s hard, conjuring the presence of his father in Cabeswater without literally doing so, but he’s had some time to master the trick of it. It requires keeping different parts of Niall Lynch in his mind at once, without ever focusing too much on the whole. It requires thinking very hard about himself first and foremost, how his father made him feel, the parts of his father that are in him, too. It’s hard. It’s why he doesn’t do it very often.

“It took me so long to even admit that you made mistakes. That you were capable of it.” Ronan’s fingers trail through the dirt, feeling the soft texture, the warmth, letting his fingers burrow further and further down. “It felt like betrayal to even consider it. But I think you would have wanted that for me.”

He hesitates for a moment, then, unable to help letting out a breathy little snort. “Actually, I have no idea if that’s true. I don’t know if you would have wanted me to be happy more than you wanted me to hero-worship you. Isn’t that sad? You’re still fucking with me, you bastard.”

He lets the words linger, the insult he wouldn’t have been able to voice years ago, a little smile on his face. He watches a few vividly green leaves carried by the breeze, swirling in idle loops. He roots his fingers deeper into the dirt, so far down it begins to feel damp, and he closes his eyes.

“I’ve only started to accept that there are things I should blame you for,” he says, voice so soft he can barely hear himself over the breeze, suddenly picking up. “Maybe one day, I’ll actually be able to blame you for them.”

[allthroughoursplendor]

another prompt fill whaaaat!! this is still for @candefacio but new fandom this time-- Wes Gibbins + 59!

(I’mma cut this one bc it has S2 spoilers, including some minor ones for the last two episodes, but if you’ve watched through the midseason finale you should be fine <3)

(prompt post!)

They’re on opposite sides of the room; even now, Wes can’t bring himself to close the distance. He still feels guilty, yes—how could he not? He still feels sadness, and regret, and beyond all of that, some lingering admiration, maybe even some deeply suppressed affection. But more than anything else, as it’s been for weeks now, there’s anger.

“You’re going to tell me the truth,” he says quietly. The thick folder is in his hand, an accusation in and of itself. “For once in your life—I deserve it. It’s what I want to hear, and I deserve it.”

Annalise’s chin is high, but her voice is soft and there’s a tremor to it when she says, “Okay.”

Wes doesn’t know if he believes it. He can feel the anger in him like a physical thing, expanding through his chest, knotting in his stomach, building pressure behind his eyes. It’s taking all he has not to show it, to force himself not to clutch the folder tighter, to take a few deep breaths before he says, very low, “You knew my mother.”

Annalise nods, simple. “I did.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Wes meant to ask it in a more controlled way, but the question spills out of him, and like a dam bursting, the others follow. “Why did you never tell me? All this time—I know that’s why I got into Middleton, why I got off the wait list—have you been watching me? Why did you give me this folder? What happened between you two? Why didn’t you tell me?”

The tears are burning in his eyes, so hard he almost can’t see that they’re in Annalise’s, too. “Wes, please,” she says, and she stands up, and Wes staggers a step back.

“No!” he says, voice harsh, thrusting a hand out, and Annalise stops. “No—don’t come any closer. Don’t. I don’t want anything from you but the truth. All I want is for you to tell me why. Why you lied. Why you pretended. Why you’re capable of saying and doing what you did—acting like you cared about me for even a second—”

“I did,” Annalise says, her voice shaking, her tone pleading. “I do. I always have. Wes, I l—”

“Don’t!” Wes yells, hearing his voice break as if it’s being ripped out of him. “Not that. Don’t say that. Don’t say you love me. I can—” He stops, feeling his own hands shaking, feeling his breath rattle hoarsely in his chest. “I can forgive you for lying to me. I might forgive you for—for all of this. For keeping this from me. If you tell me why, I think I could. But that—if you did all of this, and you said that to me—that’s too much, Annalise. It’s too much.”

The silence between them drags on, practically a physical presence. Annalise’s expression shifts, slowly, from pleading to resigned. She nods, once, the tears still not quite spilling out of her eyes.

Trying to keep his voice steady, Wes says, “Tell me the truth. Tell me everything.”

[allthroughoursplendor]

okay, friends, are you ready for a PROMPT MEME FILL??? (prompt post is here and I am still happy to take them!)

this one is the first of @candefacio‘s many prompts, Gansey + 51! it takes place in a post-canon future in which Gansey and Adam are college roommates and EVERYONE IS ALIVE AND HAPPY, GODDAMMIT, BECAUSE THAT’S HOW I ROLL.

“My parents asked about you,” Gansey tells Adam as he enters their room, and Adam looks up from his desk, his mouth a wry twist. “An update on how the rags to riches story is going?”

Gansey pauses, arrested in the motion of setting his bag down on his chair, and turns to Adam, frowning. “It’s not like that,” he says, quiet, even though Adam’s already turned back to his work. “You know it’s not.”

“I was joking, Gansey,” Adam says, though his tone is a little tight, and he turns the page of his textbook with more energy than strictly necessary. It’s not true, but then again, neither is what Gansey said.

“I told them how many credits you’re taking this semester,” Gansey says, insistent, striding over to Adam’s desk. “I told them you’re on track to make the dean’s list again. And how highly all of the professors think of you, and that you’ve already had multiple internship offers for the summer, that they’re practically fighting over who gets to hire you—”

“Stop,” Adam says, but he’s grinning faintly as he turns another page.

“You’re doing brilliantly,” Gansey says firmly, leaning back against the desk.

“I’m doing fine,” Adam murmurs, his smile growing a little; his eyes are still on the book, but he’s clearly stopped paying attention.

“Brilliantly,” Gansey insists, lightly kicking at Adam’s foot. “Say it. You have to say it. Say ‘Gansey, I’m doing brilliantly.’”

“Gansey,” Adam parrots back, “I was doing brilliantly at focusing on my political science textbook before you interrupted.”

Gansey kicks Adam’s foot again, and Adam snorts as he attempts to turn back to the book. “I’d never dream of interrupting your brilliance. But I think you should take a minute to acknowledge how far you’ve come, and how much you’ve accomplished, and how much you’re still going to do. And you’ve done it all on your own. And that’s what I tell my parents every time they ask.”

Adam looks up, then tips his head in an exaggerated gesture of thought, holding it for a minute. “All right,” he says, and smiles up at Gansey, brief and affectionate. “Minute taken. Point made.” Gansey, satisfied, extends his fist for Adam to bump, and as he’s turning back to his own desk, Adam says, “The story’s not over yet, you know.”

“I know,” Gansey says. “But I also know how it’s going to end.”

[allthroughoursplendor]

reblog if you are also charls the renowned veretian cloth merchant, cousin of charls the renowned veretian cloth merchant

[allthroughoursplendor]

Writing Prompts 2.0

So I’m doing this again because my phone is broken and I’ve lost all the progress I’ve made on A Winchester (3). So send in a character and number and I’ll write a drabble. 

1. “Is that what you’re doing? Trying to make me to hate you?” 2. “I’ve been in love with you my entire life.”  3. “I’m not happy here.”  4. “If he’s going to treat you like shit I’m going to kick his ass.”  5. “I just want to cuddle and watch Friends.”  6. “You’re hiding something from me.” 7. “If I die, I’m going to haunt your ass.”  8. “I want my best friend back.” 9.  “You better have a good reason for waking me up at the ass-crack of dawn.” 10. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”  11. “A wedding?” 12. “I just want to be alone right now.”  13. “Don’t you dare to ever do that again!” 14. “Where would someone hide in a town like this?”  15. “If I ever see you anywhere near her, you’ll have to deal with me!” 16. “I thought you were a dream come true.”  17. “Everyone keeps telling me you’re the bad guy.” 18. “I came here to explain what happened, and I’m not leaving until you listen.” 19. “I made a mistake.”  20. “H-How long have you been standing there?”  21. “You can’t break my heart like this!” 22. “I wasn’t going to wait around for you forever.”  23. “The skirt is supposed to be this short.”  24. “I’ve moved on.”  25. “This is why you don’t ever have any shirts to wear.”  26. “Run, and don’t ever look back.”  27. “The three seconds rule doesn’t apply to sticky foods.” 28. “I think I’m in love with you, and I’m terrified.”  29. “Please, don’t give up on me.”  30. “When are you going to realize that I don’t care?” 31. “I may be an idiot but I’m your idiot.” 32. “When you love someone, you just don’t stop. Ever. Even when people roll their eyes or call you crazy… even then. Specially then!” 33. “Fuck…I feel I’ve been hit by a car.” 34. “Those things you said yesterday… Did you mean them?” 35. “I know that you have reached a decision, but given that it is a stupid ass decision I have elected to ignore it” 36. “i;m tired of being your secret.” 37. “They always make shower sex sound so appealing, but honestly it seems quite dangerous.” 38. “Do you ever think if people heard our conversations they’d lock us up?” 39. “Let me tell you exactly where in hell you can go.” 40.“Who gave you that black eye?!” 41. “After everything you did, you’re asking ME to apologize for snapping at you ONCE?” 42. “I miss her so damn much, and it’s killing me that she’s gone!” 43. “What the hell are you doing here?! I told you I never wanted to see you again!” 44. “It must be hard with your sense of direction, never being able to find your way to a decent pickup line.” 45. “Are you drunk?” 46. “I’m sorry, what were you saying? I keep getting lost in your eyes” 47. “You got her pregnant?! What were you thinking?” 48. “It’s OK baby, I’m here for you.”  49. “You say the nastiest things when you’re angry, so yes, I’m walking away from you now. 50. “I’m starting an idiot jar. Any time you do or say anything idiotic, you have to put at least a dollar in it—more depending on how stupid the thing that you said or did was.” 51. “My parents asked about you.” 52.“Oh, gosh, you’ve insulted me! What ever shall I do? I’ll be mentally and emotionally scared for years!” 53. “You haven’t even touched your food. What’s going on?” 54. “Do you need me to get anything from the store?” 55. “They say I’m in here because I’m crazy, I think I’m crazy because I’m in here.” 56. “You’re hurting me, let me go.”  57. “If you don’t want to talk about what happened, then say so. Don’t just lie and say it’s fine.” 58. “I was going to kiss him, but then my friend texted me about going to Taco Bell, and, well, there’s this cashier that works there who is way cuter, so I bailed on the rest of the date.” 59. “Don’t say you love me.” 60. “It’s a hobby of mine to prove you wrong.”

[allthroughoursplendor]

That’s right! I’m back with another giveaway. Luckily, I got some money for Christmas, so I want to use a little bit of that to give back to the community.

Prize:

I will pre-order Kings Rising for ONE winner. This is going to be the American version unless you live in Australia or New Zealand. I can only get you the Australian version if you have an Australian or New Zealand address.

Rules:

18 years or older by the end of the giveaway (no exceptions)

Only one reblog per person. Likes will not count. Multiple reblogs will result in disqualification.

You don’t have to be following this tumblr to enter.

I know there’s only a month left so the giveaway will end Jan 20th 11:59 PST.

If Amazon ships to your country, I will use that. (Booktopia for Australia/New Zealand.) If not, I am willing to use Book Depository, but be forewarned about their slow service. My last resort would be shipping it personally.

I will contact the winner within 48 hours. If they do not respond to me within another 48 hours, they will have forfeited the prize and I will pick someone else. Remember that this is a preorder, so you will still have to wait like everyone else. This giveaway is subject to updates and it is your responsibility to check for those.

I have no connection to Penguin or C. S. Pacat. This giveaway is not associated with Tumblr in any way. Any information provided will only be seen by me.

[allthroughoursplendor]

here is another prompt from anotherwaytostand​ -- Gansey/Blue, #4: things you said over the phone

 “How is everything?”

Blue’s laugh, though slightly muffled on the other end of the phone, sounds incredulous more than amused. “Aren’t you even going to let me pretend this was a wrong number? Does our treasured charade mean nothing to you?”

Gansey smiles, though it’s more automatic than anything else, an instinctive reaction to Blue’s voice regardless of circumstances. “Sorry. Hello, Jane, did you dial the wrong number again? You should really be more careful when you make calls. How’s that?”

Blue’s sigh is a crinkle of static, like a balloon being deflated. Gansey doesn’t want to imagine the look on her face that might accompany a sound like that. “Much better. I completely believed you. Has anyone ever told you should go into the theater?”

“Has anyone ever told you you’re exceedingly good at dodging questions?”

Blue sighs again, but it’s more deliberate this time, a pointed gesture rather than an unconscious one. It makes Gansey’s concern ebb just a little. “It’s a talent I cultivate. I’m never going to be very good at physically dodging things, so I’ll settle for what I can verbally.”

Gansey affects surprise. “I’d think you would be really good at physically dodging things. Most projectiles would just soar right over your head, wouldn’t they?”

Blue lets out a squeak of indignation that Gansey tries, unsuccessfully, not to find adorable beyond words. “Really? Really? If you make another short joke I am going to hang up on you immediately.”

“No, don’t,” Gansey says, dropping all pretense. “I’m sorry. Don’t. I really did want to see how everything was going. With—” He gives a vague gesture that explains nothing at all, and which Blue can’t see, anyway. “You know.”

“The madhouse?” Blue’s tone is wry, but a little bit tired, too. It’s been a week since the new complication of Artemus has entered the lives of the women of 300 Fox Way, in a situation that Blue has described as “one or two more father figures than I’m totally comfortable having.” In between him, and Mr. Gray, and Gwenllian, and Maura’s return, and everything else in the world, Gansey can only imagine that it’s been rather a lot for Blue to take in. And while he’s had plenty of time to think about the situation (as he dedicates rather a lot of his thoughts to the topic of Blue in general), he hasn’t had much of a chance to ask her how she’s doing.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she informs him.

“Is that a ‘things are so horrible that they can’t be put into words’ ‘I don’t want to talk about it,’ or a ‘things are too weird to be put into words but more or less bearable’ ‘I don’t want to talk about it?’” Gansey asks. “Or option c. neither?”

Blue huffs out another noise that sounds more like a gesture of exasperation than a laugh. “Option d. I don’t want to talk about it. Am I not allowed to just not want to talk about it?”

“Of course you are.” Gansey thinks he is usually getting better at not saying the wrong thing, or knowing why he’s said the wrong thing when he has, but he’s really not sure how expressing concern can ever be wrong. It’s hard to try to mediate how strongly he feels about someone with how much he’s allowed to show it. He can never seem to catch the right balance. “I’m sorry. I’m just—”

“I know.” Blue’s tone has, inexplicably, gentled a little. Gansey isn’t sure what caused it, but he’s grateful for it. “Can we just say it’s a fucking madhouse and leave it at that?”

Another involuntary, reflexive smile crosses Gansey’s face. “You’ve been spending too much time with Ronan.”

“Really?” Blue sounds normal again now—wry, easily teasing—and Gansey finds himself letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “You’re telling me I’ve been spending too much time with Ronan? Hey, Pot, I have a friend I’d like you to meet—their name is Kettle.”

“I’m speaking from experience here,” he points out, noticing that he’s cradling his phone to his face like it’s a precious thing, made infinitely valuable as the receptacle of Blue’s voice. “Who knows better than I all the dangerous side effects of too much time in Ronan’s presence?”

“You know what they say. Cancer survivors make the best doctors.”

Gansey rolls his eyes, and something about it must be audible to Blue because she laughs, and it’s a laugh that just sounds like a laugh, and Gansey relaxes, because he is pretty sure that this means she’s okay, and that’s what matters.

They stay silent for another minute, and then Blue asks, in a tone too offhand to be genuinely casual, “Remember Poland?”

It takes Gansey a moment to realize what she’s referring to. “It’s a very large country with centuries of rich history, Jane. One could hardly forget it.”

“Ass,” Blue says, without any heat. “You know what I mean.”

Gansey’s absurdly pleased that she’s aware of that. He wonders what it is about that conversation that makes her leery of referencing it more specifically. Is it still alarming to her? Is it so sacred a memory that she can’t bring herself to speak of it (how he feels about most of their late-night conversations)? “Yes,” he says, in lieu of addressing any of this. “I do. What about it?”

Blue’s silence stretches for another minute. Gansey waits. “If I decide I want to escape the madhouse,” she says eventually, her tone lighter than before, “Poland sounds like a pretty good place to go. You could probably get us there efficiently, right? You’ve got all kinds of connections, don’t you?”

“Can you think of a way to say that that doesn’t make me sound like a mafia don?” Gansey asks mildly, and is rewarded with another laugh.

“Ass,” Blue says again, but this time she sounds like she’s smiling. “But the offer still stands?”

Gansey opens his mouth to speak, fully intending to deliver a similarly lighthearted, teasing response. What comes out instead is, “The offer always stands. Anywhere you ever want to go.”

The silence that follows his words is electric. He closes his eyes, mouthing the words stupid stupid stupid, thinking that Blue would probably be well within her rights to just hang up on him then. He is pretty sure he will never learn how to moderate his feelings. He’s going to have to live with being a complete idiot who keeps saying the wrong things because he simply can’t hold them in any longer.

After what feels like an eternity, he hears the soft crackle of a quiet sigh from Blue and goes absolutely still, waiting for her to say something else. She does, and it’s worth the wait: a very quiet, very serious, “Good to know.”

This time, when she hangs up, it feels like a promise.

[allthroughoursplendor]

Whiplash text posts: 4/?

[allthroughoursplendor]

OMG okay hello friends LONG TIME NO SEE time for me to start posting meme fills!!!

anotherwaytostand prompted (among MANY MANY OTHER THINGS….) Adam/Ronan, #18: things you said when you were scared  :3

“My father’s sentencing hearing is tomorrow,” Adam says.

The words are spoken into what was previously shaping up to be a very comfortable silence between them, and they still Ronan entirely. His eyes dart up to Adam, who’s lying supine on the bed the way that he usually does—arms tucked in to his sides, legs held close together, his entire position one of taking up as little space as possible, even on the bed that belongs to him.

As usual when Ronan is there, there’s a wide assortment of crap spread across the floor of Adam’s small apartment. There are a few textbooks and notebooks and papers (the fruits of approximately forty minutes’ worth of Adam attempting to get Ronan to take schoolwork seriously, an unusually long stretch of patience for him), and on top of them are a few non-textbook-books and non-school-related notebooks and papers (the fruits of approximately two hours’ worth of giving up on schoolwork and talking Glendower instead), and on top of them are some paper airplanes, crumpled-up tissues, and gum wrappers (the fruits of the last hour or so, in which productivity of any sort was eschewed completely). Adam was, up until ten minutes ago, sitting cross-legged next to Ronan, until Ronan got tired of trying to ignore his posture slumping and his eyes fluttering closed and had to all but physically force him to lie down. Adam had insisted that it would only be for a second, but he’d been quiet for so long, his breathing so soft and even, Ronan had thought he’d just fallen asleep.

He hasn’t moved even now, even as he’s said something that Ronan has no idea how to respond to. It’s hard enough for him to figure out what people want from him on a regular basis; he’s made a habit of dealing with it by convincing himself that he doesn’t care about what people want from him, and for the most part, that’s been enough. But it’s never worked with Gansey, and it’s never had a prayer of working with Adam, especially not now.

He settles for staying quiet. There’s a chance that it’s the wrong thing to do, but if he tries to say something, there’s a considerably more significant chance that whatever he says will be the wrong thing, so. Lesser of two evils.

It seems to work, because after a long moment of silence, Adam speaks again. “I need to be there. It’s the last part of the case, so I need to be there. There was never a chance that I could get out of it, even if I wanted to.” Another long pause. “I don’t know if I want to.”

Ronan doesn’t want to be here. He wants to want what’s best for Adam, and he wishes that he always could, but right now, what he really wants is to be wherever Robert Parrish is, so that he can beat the shit out of him until what’s left is no longer recognizable. That would most certainly not be what’s best for Adam, and so Ronan feels a little bit guilty for wanting it. But not enough for it to go away.

“Mostly I just want it to be over,” Adam is saying, thoughtfully. “And this’ll mean that it’s over. This is the last thing I have to do. I should be happy to go to it.” Another pause, then a long sigh. “I’m not happy to go. I’m not happy that it’s almost done. I just want it to be done. I don’t want to think about it anymore.”

Ronan wants that, too. He wants to tell Adam that his piece of shit father doesn’t merit another second of Adam’s attention. He wants to tell Adam that his mind is too good to waste on lingering scared thoughts, that there are a million better things, things more worthy of him, to think about. He wants to tell Adam that he will never let anything, least of all Robert Parrish, hurt him again.

He’s well aware that none of those things would help, if he did say them. He says nothing.

“It won’t take long. It’s a short hearing. We all just need to be there to hear the sentence—and then it’ll be done.” Pause. “I want to think about it that way. I want to tell myself it’s not a big deal and focus on the good things that’ll come out of it. But they’re not really good things. They’re just—the absence of bad things. There’s such a difference.” Pause. “I don’t know if most people know that.”

Ronan does know that. He thinks about telling Adam that he knows that, but resists the urge. He and Adam have many more differences than similarities, but one of the ways in which they’re alike is that on the rare occasions when they say what they’re feeling, they don’t want sympathy, and they don’t want commiseration, and they don’t want acknowledgment. Ronan knows that if he speaks now, it’ll spur nothing but silence in Adam, like a wild creature scared away by too-abrupt contact. He knows that if Adam is interrupted when he’s laying himself bare like this, it’ll bring too much to the forefront, so much that he won’t be able to go on, and there will be things left unsaid that might never emerge. He knows that what Adam wants is to talk until he’s finished, because that’s what Ronan would want, too.

Adam doesn’t say anything for so long that Ronan starts to think he might be done—but then he speaks again, more quietly. “I’m not happy. I’m not even relieved.” Another long pause, and then, barely audible: “I’m scared.”

That has enough of a note of finality to it that Ronan thinks he’s probably done. And even if he’s not, he decides, fuck it. Adam shouldn’t feel like he’s alone right now.

He waits another minute, just to be absolutely sure, then he gets to his feet and walks to the bed, fitting himself carefully next to Adam. It’s a little too small for both of them to fit properly, lying side by side on their backs, but Ronan doesn’t care, and he’s pretty sure Adam won’t, either.

Now that he’s actually there, he’s not sure what to do next. His position as the person who is here with Adam in the times when he’s sad or angry or scared, who sees it and wants to do something about it, is so new, and he’s still trying to figure out how to negotiate it—how much is too much, how little is too little, what he wants to do and what Adam wants from him, how to try to give Adam what he needs in ways that both of them can live with. It’s a much more cognitive process than he thought it would be, and navigating it is proving more difficult than he’d anticipated, but he’s so damn grateful to have it at all that he’ll take whatever pitfalls it brings with it.

He tilts his head up towards the ceiling, but his eyes sideways towards Adam. Adam’s looking at the ceiling, too, his arms at his sides, his body loose, but in a position of resignation rather than relaxation. His face is almost entirely blank, but the corners of his mouth are turned down and a muscle in his jaw is twitching, just a little. It makes the elegant lines of his face look vulnerable. It makes Ronan want, simultaneously, to cup his face in his hands and to punch a hole in the wall.

He doesn’t do either. Instead, he rests his hand next to Adam’s, just enough for their little fingers to be touching. He’s not sure if this is enough, but he feels like this is an overture Adam needs to make right now. He thinks this might be a case where too little is better than too much.

It takes a minute, during which Ronan barely breathes, for Adam to slowly inch his own finger closer until it’s linked loosely with Ronan’s. A small touch, barely anything, but it feels like more than enough to anchor Ronan to the world. From the way he sees Adam’s jaw relax, and hears his breathing even out, he thinks that he might feel it, too.

[allthroughoursplendor]

Whiplash text posts: 3/?

[allthroughoursplendor]

But Ronan and Adam finally getting together and Ronan realizing he doesn't know how to boyfriend properly like at all oh no

oh my god are you kidding me neither of them know how to boyfriend properly at all

like, in between Ronan having wanted this for so long and Adam figuring shit out for the first time, and in between Ronan having no idea how to moderate or express his emotions and Adam’s abuse? months is an optimistic timeline for them figuring out how to get their shit together and settle into everything for real

(this is also why I don’t like most established-relationship fic for these two, bc most of it is just fluff, which like… cool, I enjoy that too, but these idiots have sooo much work to do before they can get there)

although now I’m picturing, on top of the whole Cabeswater-helping-Adam-realize-he’s-in-love-with-Ronan thing, Cabeswater also like… helping them figure shit out while they’re dating?? Cabeswater is such a good matchmaker lmao

[allthroughoursplendor]

hee! yes!! I love the idea of each of them individually (except Ronan, of course, who has found a new archnemesis) becoming friends with this dude until Gansey’s finally like, okay, we might as well initiate him, right? (Ronan’s like, what the fuck? he didn’t realize that the only requirement for initiation was the ability to consistently fuck with Ronan’s head. Blue smiles at him sweetly all “really? I thought that was the only requirement?” Adam and Gansey look at each other like… yeah, that’s actually not wrong. Ronan is not pleased.)

Library Guy did not see this coming at all. this was a part-time gig to help him get some extra cash as he thinks about what he wants to do post-college! now he’s helping some cute high school kids find a dead Welsh king. maybe he can put this on his resume?

Now I'm imagining Ronan going up to flirt and seeing the Glendower maps spread out or something and he's like "oh my god you are as big of a loser as my friend" and they just stare at each other before ronan turns around and walks back to Gansey like "sorry"

(follow-up to this and this for those of you playing along at home)

hahahaha oh my god I love it?? I’m so invested in all of the ways in which Ronan would horribly fail at this now :’) openly calling him a loser, getting distracted by arguing about a totally unrelated thing, innuendo that’s too overt and Library Guy is obligated to kick him out because ew, getting impatient while Library Guy talks to someone else and finally just like… pushing them out of the way (which leads to him getting kicked out again), etc. etc.

after this they all have to put their heads together to come up with pretexts for Ronan to keep coming back (and to keep him from getting permanently banned from this library) so that their actual purposes doesn’t seem BLATANTLY OBVIOUS

what if they don’t succeed and Library Guy figures it all out and so starts deliberately doing things to fuck with Ronan just because he’s finding it all so hilarious

[allthroughoursplendor]

Now I'm imagining Ronan going up to flirt and seeing the Glendower maps spread out or something and he's like "oh my god you are as big of a loser as my friend" and they just stare at each other before ronan turns around and walks back to Gansey like "sorry"

(follow-up to this and this for those of you playing along at home)

hahahaha oh my god I love it?? I’m so invested in all of the ways in which Ronan would horribly fail at this now :’) openly calling him a loser, getting distracted by arguing about a totally unrelated thing, innuendo that's too overt and Library Guy is obligated to kick him out because ew, getting impatient while Library Guy talks to someone else and finally just like... pushing them out of the way (which leads to him getting kicked out again), etc. etc.

after this they all have to put their heads together to come up with pretexts for Ronan to keep coming back (and to keep him from getting permanently banned from this library) so that their actual purposes doesn't seem BLATANTLY OBVIOUS

what if they don't succeed and Library Guy figures it all out and so starts deliberately doing things to fuck with Ronan just because he's finding it all so hilarious

[allthroughoursplendor]

Whiplash text posts: 2/?

[allthroughoursplendor]

send me a ship and one of these and i'll write a mini fic

things you said at 1 am

things you said through your teeth

things you said too quietly

things you said over the phone

things you didn’t say at all

things you said under the stars and in the grass

things you said while we were driving

things you said when you were crying

things you said when i was crying

things you said that made me feel like shit

things you said when you were drunk

things you said when you thought i was asleep

things you said at the kitchen table

things you said after you kissed me

things you said with too many miles between us

things you said with no space between us

things you said that i wish you hadnt

things you said when you were scared

things you said when we were the happiest we ever were

things you said that i wasn’t meant to hear

things you said when we were on top of the world

things you said after it was over

things you said [make your own]

inspired by this

[allthroughoursplendor]

HELLO FRIENDS I'm about to reblog another writing meme!!! YOU SHOULD ALL COME PROMPT ME (this one is also still valid for the record so feel free to prompt me there as well!)

also I still feel like I'm drowning in all the shit I have to do, but once that abates a little I'll start a slow return to regular blogging and try to be present around here again, and not just for sporadic writing meme purposes :333