#(( i would apologize for ronan being an asshole ))

[ronanvludolf]

( &&. @xsofiya )

“I’ve got one for you: why did the Ukrainian break his arm raking leaves?” Ronan began, his feet resting on top of the table before him and his legs crossed at the ankles. He was aimlessly flipping through a magazine the cleaners had left on the coffee table, featuring articles on highlights and hot spots of Oslo, when he’d decided that goading Sofiya would likely prove to be more entertaining. Arguing with Alphonse might have been “poking the bear”, but getting on Sofiya’s bad side was like terrorizing a dragon. “He fell out of the tree.”

Unable to help himself, he laughed, tossing the magazine down on the table and taking a swig of the beer he’d gotten for himself.

[adamsbackpack]

Something that makes sense in dream logic...

But a continuation of this, maybe like somehow Bryde somehow finds Declan’s apartment where Jordan is as well and Declan finds a slightly unhinged Bryde carrying in an unconscious sickly looking Ronan and he’s slowly starting to turn into a tree, like the one he was trapped in during the dream? So he’s growing leaves and vines from his fingers, his skin is turning to wood

Idk the dream ley energy from the forests that Ronan dreamt are decaying and slowly releasing the ‘ dream energy’ back into him idk and slowly Ronan wakes up in Declan’s bed half conscious and out of it and slurring works and Ronan rasps that he’s sorry he was such a bad brother and made Declan hate him and obv Declan said he never hated him and Declan’s just a big mess of asshole Declan emotions cuz for all he knows his younger brother is dying in front of him and just a lot of Declan worrying about Ronan and yelling at bryde for what he’s done

And maybe they try the sweetmetal and when they put it next to Ronan he gains some color back slightly and Declan (and jordan) and watching over him In worry wondering what to do

So just can you make it longer if you can, than the last one? Mostly Declan’s POV with a little bit of Ronan’s, even though he’s unconscious/ dying/ turning into a magical dying tree?

Had it not been for the jarring silence in the room, Declan wouldn’t have heard the lumbering steps coming from the stairwell outside his door. Had it not been for the silence, he wouldn’t have had that sinking feeling he gets when he just knows that one of his brothers is fucked. He wouldn’t have cleared the mugs of coffee off of the marble counter of the island in his cramped kitchen. He wouldn’t have sent Jordan to the door to look through the peep hole, making sure there were no straggling moderators coming to slit their throats.

Thankfully, a heavy blanket of quiet had settled itself over the apartment, which allowed enough time for Declan to manage all of these things before Jordan opened the door to reveal his dying brother.

“Help me,” growled the tall, bird like man that had Ronan cradled in his arms. Ah, thought Declan. So this must be the infamous Bryde.

Jordan gripped Ronan’s ankles while Bryde struggled to haul the rest of him by his underarms. Had the situation not been so gruesome, Declan might have been laughing. Well, maybe he would have smirked (Declan really didn’t laugh all that often). But to watch his foolish little brother being dragged through his apartment door seemed like the perfect moment for those four glorious words that Ronan hated so much: I told you so.

But Declan wasn’t laughing. He wasn’t even smirking. Because the situation was gruesome.

Nightwash spilled from between his brother’s cracked lips, leaking from his nose and ear canals and soaking the living room carpet as Jordan and Bryde carried him into the kitchen, where they draped his body across the cleared marble countertop. Dark shadows clung to his eyes, looking more and more like bruises the longer Declan looked at them until he wasn’t even sure that they weren’t. His hair, which was normally buzzed to the scalp, had begun to grow out softly from Ronan’s days spent on the road, hopping from city to city with Hennessy and Bryde. Stubble grazed his jaw, and Declan was struck in that moment by just how much Ronan looked like Niall.

But Nightwash and exhaustion were the least of his worries.

From Ronan’s fingertips, branches were stretching out towards the kitchen windows. Thick leaves sprouted on stems that shot out from the startlingly green veins in his wrists, covering the smattering of scars from nightmares of the past. Tree bark crept up his throat, leaving Ronan’s neck stiff and confined. When he started choking, Jordan tugged on his bottom lip to find a soggy bunch of wildflowers crawling out from his windpipe.

“What the hell is going on here,” Declan demanded, gripping Bryde by the collar as Jordan helped Ronan to sit up as he vomited oily black clumps of moss. Bryde, looking a little worse for wear with black liquid strewn across the front of his shirt, snarled at Declan as he tore himself away from his grip.

“You think I would have come here if I knew?” The way in which the question was spat assured Declan that he knew the answer. “I think… I think it’s Lindenmere.”

“Okay,” Declan said dangerously, “then why don’t you tell me why the fuck Lindenmere is growing inside my brother?”

Bryde’s eyes glowed. “I’m sorry, did you miss the Ley Lines going down? Thanks to your girl-“ Bryde threw an accusatory finger at Jordan, who gave him her angriest finger in return, “-Lindenmere can’t exist. It’s returning to its dreamer because it has nowhere else to go. This is its way of falling asleep, just like the rest of his dreams.”

Declan swiped his hand over his face, silently praying that when he opened his eyes, all of this will have just been a stress-induced hallucination. No such luck.

“Declan,” Jordan said, “I don’t- what do we do?”

Declan contemplated this. They couldn’t exactly go to the hospital - what were regular doctors and nurses supposed to do against an illness such as this. Where would they even begin? And it’s not like Bryde could dream up a remedy with the Ley Lines down.

A sharp groan coming from the countertop brought Declan back to himself. Ronan’s body was convulsing with every movement of the branches engulfing his flesh. He tried to speak around the garden that had inhabited his mouth but to no avail. Declan placed his hand on Ronan’s forehead and rubbed his thumb softly against his temple the way Aurora used to do when they were sick. “Hey, Ronan,” Declan said softly, and was struck by the tightness in his throat and the stinging in his eyes. “You’ve really gotten yourself fucked this time, haven’t you?” Though his body still shook violently and the wildflowers muffled his voice, Declan swore he heard his brother attempt a laugh. Ronan’s hand shot up and squeezed Declan’s tightly, a pulsing grip in time with his body tremors. “It’s okay, Ronan. It’ll be okay, just try and breathe.” Declan watched as his brother’s chest shook with the effort to take in a measured breath.

Ronan let go of Declan’s hand, only to tap at his palm until it lay flat. He traced the letter ‘M’ on his skin. Matthew.

Was it better to tell Ronan he was fine, just to alleviate some of his stress? Should he tell him the truth of the matter, which was that the youngest Lynch brother was currently unconscious in his bedroom, as he had been for the past several days?

Declan settled on a half-truth.

“He went to sign himself up for high school in DC the other day. Isn’t that great? He had a meeting with the guidance councillor to register and select his courses. He was really excited about auto class, so he can help you fix the car with Adam the next time you crash it.” Declan rambled on, side-stepping the truth and instead offering the pleasantness of Matthew being happy. Ronan was too exhausted to demand a real answer, so he drank in his brother’s distractions eagerly. At the mention of Adam, though, Ronan tensed and glanced up at Jordan, who nodded in understanding and left to call him from Declan’s landline.

“He’s not getting better,” Bryde said impatiently. The young man had been so quiet up until that point that Declan almost forgot he was there. Almost. “I… I’m sorry. I don’t know what else to try.” Well, that wasn’t good. Bryde apologizing was decidedly not good.

A blood-curdling scream erupted from Ronan so suddenly that Declan had to take a moment for his heart to start beating at a normal pace again. Through Ronan’s t-shirt - which was now soaked with a mixture of blood and nightwash - burst forth five branches, flaking with rough bark and moss. Jordan rushed in from the living room, hand held over the speaker of the phone in a futile attempt to block Ronan’s cries from Adam’s ear. “Shit,” she breathed. “Adam, hun, let me call you back.” She silenced Adam’s muffled protests with one tap to the phone.

Declan gave a shake of his head before pointing to the cupboard beside the sink. “Get me towels, as many towels as you can,” he said sharply. Bryde and Jordan came back seconds later with armfuls of soft cotton dishtowels. Snatching them from their grasps, Declan began wrapping the towels around the base of the branches until most of the blood was sopped up. Just as he stepped back to observe his work, his cell phone began to tremble in his pocket. “Son of a bitch.” Unknown number. Maybe it’s Hennessy.

He answered it.

“What.” It came out more as a demand than a question.

“Listen to me carefully, Declan. I can help you,” said Niall Lynch.

***TBC***

[ravenadottir]

What hero tropes describe season 2 islanders?

damn, tuesdays!! that’s a tough one, and i apologize that it took me so long to post. i wanted to be sure, especially because i like the ‘hero talk’ so much!

i’mma base this off what i found here, and some i just didn’t quite know the proper names. i’m also gonna give some examples of heroes i think could fit the characters.

and a reminder, this has nothing to do with personality/looks. it’s the initial trope every character in litg has. not saying everything is right, but like... this is how i see them. feel free to add, i would love to see more from different people!

bobby. “jumped at the call”. never avoided being a hero, and often the responsibility was thrusted upon him. (the responsibility he takes about bringing harmony to the villa is one of the examples i could think of). t’challa, black panther

carl. “heroic deprecation”. incapable of believing they’re a hero, no matter how much people recognize it, and it is the truth. it seems carl doesn’t recognize his “human traits” as much as he does when it comes to his intelligence. clark kent, superman.

chelsea. “invincible incompetent”. she doesn’t have as many resources as the other heroes but she does handle enemies just as well, and it’s her peculiar qualities that help her get there. and i’m talking about her perky self. it can be distracting and endearing, and the way she handles lottie reminds me of starlord handling ronan, the accuser. peter quill, starlord.

gary. “hollywood action hero”. rugged, kinda book-dumb, but incredibly resourceful, and unusually smart in other areas. looks are rough and muscular, and gary is definitely the wisecracking and jolly type. arthur curry (aquaman) or thor.

henrik. “accidental hero”. it wasn’t his intention, but he managed to make things right. often because he was about to cause an accident, and it ended up saving someone. barry allen, flash.

hope. “always gets her man”. she’s incorruptible, competent, and feared by evildoers. commissioner gordon.

ibrahim. “upbringing makes the hero”. to me, ibrahim screams “a hero is not born, they’re made”, especially after his speech about heroes, on mr. love island contest. he talks about how a hero needs to make the right choice. steve rogers, captain america.

kassam. “intrinsic vow” he’ll never break that vow. also, i may add here, very stoic. he can be very loving and caring, in one-on-one situations, but in public, he’s extremely serious and often doesn’t participate in group conversations. that’s why i’m giving him vision.

lottie. “hero antagonist”. she’s not what you expect, but still becomes a heroine. and i’m picking natasha romanoff because of the suppressed anger she chose to puts in her combats.

lucas. “humbled hero”. something i just thought outside of that list, because lucas’ trope is just not there, i don’t think. he starts out looking/sounding like an asshole, then learns, later, to fight along others in search for justice. stephen strange, dr. strange. i chose this one because lucas learns, on his route, mainly that not everything is about him, and there’s so much more happening outside of himself in a relationship. that’s strange’s arc. he fights his ego at all times.

marisol. “anti-hero with an arc”. starts out only defending herself, proceeding to gain some maturity along the story, mainly because of her interactions with others. nebula. she doesn’t learn it by herself, no matter how smart she is.

noah. ”the world's expert on getting killed”. this is the hero’s best friend, and has the most resources and knows everything about the villain. schooled in several subjects. i’m giving him wong, connected directly to dr. strange, because he also fights, and has plenty of skills in the battlefield, however, he’s mostly ready to drop some knowledge, and not some punches.

priya. “the outcast”. still learning how not to be an outcast, and every time there’s an opportunity to prove her loyalty, she takes it with a grain of salt, again showing off her outcast colors. it’s just too hard to believe an opportunity of true friendship is presenting itself. logan, wolverine. 

[viagostalons]

thank you @sleepy-skittles i definitely needed this after yesterday's awfulness

I wasn't sure what to write for this at first but I think I finally figured it out - this is longer than I thought it would be oops, maybe I should put it on ao3 idk

Rovinsky + “this isn’t our actual first kiss but it is our first important kiss”

The first time he ever kissed Kavinsky it had been after a race.

Gansey hadn't wanted him to go but he'd been feeling an itch burn beneath his skin. He'd needed to crawl out of Monmouth and away from morality for the nighty came for him a second time, Ronan shoved him again, and again, and again, until his fingers curled in Kavinsky's tanktop and he dragged him in for a kiss. The taste of cigarette smoke and bitter alcohol swathed over his tongue and the smell still makes him a bit woozy even now.

After the first kiss, they'd parted and didn't speak of it again.

The second time he kissed Kavinsky had been during a substance party.

Gansey hadn't wanted him to go but he'd been feeling an itch burn beneath his skin. He'd needed to crawl out of Monmouth and away from morality for the night. He'd arrived at Kavinsky's party where he'd been asked to produce a substance.

"Here's your fucking substance, asshole," Ronan growled before laying a wet kiss on Kavinsky's mouth before he could protest.

He can still remember how the boys' jeered all around them. How Kavinsky's body stiffened and then relaxed in his arms. His own flushed reflection staring back at him in Kavinsky's mirrored shades when they parted.

For a second time, they parted and didn't bring it up again.

The third time he kissed Kavinsky had been in a dream.

They met in his dream space, standing together in the woods. Kavinsky had grinned at him, wild and boyish. His shades were gone and for once, Ronan couldn't tell if Kavinsky was inebriated. All he knew was he'd laughed and said, his voice teetering into derisive, "You want to kiss me so bad."

The worst part was Kavinsky was right. He rolled his eyes and pulled him in for a kiss, wrapping his arms around Kavinsky's slim waist. He felt Kavinsky press something into his hand and when Ronan woke and could move again, he'd shifted his gaze to his palm to see what it held.

A small little orb hovered over his palm. Inside, Ronan could see galaxies swirl. Their own little secret.

The fourth time he kissed Kavinsky had been much later. After high school, after Adam graduated from Harvard, and when they both moved to Boston to chase Adam's career. He hadn't expected to see Kavinsky ever again after a falling out their senior year of high school. He never expected Joseph Kavinsky to become a part of his life again.

Boston wasn't exactly where he thought he would be calling home either but Adam had found a job in the city and Declan had moved in with his artist girlfriend Jordan in the same area. Despite his claims of hating Declan, Ronan could never quite shake his need to be around family.

So, Ronan made a life here.

At times, he would travel around to the country to escape the city's oppressive atmosphere, working on farms and volunteering his time at animal sanctuaries. He made friends with a girl named Hennessy on accident while Adam was at work. They hit it off when she hopped into his car and told him to drive, drive, drive.

Afterward, they ended up in the apartment he shared with Adam and she laughed hysterically when she found out his name. "Ronan Lynch?" she'd cackled. "Your Declan's brother."

They'd bonded even further when they both found out they were dreamers.

A night of dreaming left them both buzzing and wanting, feeling drunk without having to drink, they winded up in a tattoo shop. Proclaiming they would get matching tattoos, even if Ronan had no intention of letting anything on his body match someone else. Hennessy was taken off to one room and Ronan to another where he'd come face to face with a boy - now a man - he hadn't seen in six years.

Joseph Kavinsky gave him his second tattoo.

Joseph Kavinsky also gave him his third tattoo and fourth tattoo. Ronan kept returning for more ink and Kavinsky's talented hands.

"You want to kiss him again, don't you?" Adam had asked one night after Ronan spent hours talking about Kavinsky's shop.

Maybe he did but he quickly denied it. Adam only smiled at him; the kind of smile which left him feeling stripped despite being fully dressed.

"It's okay if you do," Adam whispered. "I'm secure in us."

Ronan returned for a sixth tattoo and they were at the shop until past closing. Kavinsky locked up once they were done and Ronan stole the fourth kiss. He pressed him against the BMW and kissed fast.

"What are you doing?" Kavinsky had asked.

He didn't know. They parted again for the fourth time but unlike the other times, this last one haunted him. It followed him around and entered his dreams.

Hennessy told him to just fuck Kavinsky and get it over with. Adam told him to ask Kavinsky on a date and get it over with. Gansey told him he really needed to focus on himself and get over it.

Ronan could not get over it.

Which is how he ended up standing out of Kavinsky's shop, staring at the Open sign, and trying to talk himself into walking in. It's been two weeks since their fourth kiss - not that he's been counting.

He takes a step closer to the shop and then backs off, before pacing back and forth in front of it, until the sound of the door opening makes him freeze and spin around. Kavinsky stands there, his head tilted to the side, looking ridiculously kissable in the afternoon sun.

"Lynch? What the hell are you doing?"

Ronan stammers, wishing he could formulate words but they're failing. He knows two languages and can't even formulate one sentence.

Kavinsky raises an eyebrow. "Is it your tattoo?"

"No," he finally manages. "No- the tattoo is great." He rubs the back of his neck, looking down at his scuffed combat boots. "K..."

"Yes?"

He wants to ask Kavinsky out but he has no idea how to do it. Of course, Adam had been the one to kiss him. Then, they'd just started being boyfriends; there had never been an 'asking out' process. Everything had just happened.

"Look, I have clients coming..." Kavinsky starts but Ronan steps in and kisses him again to shut him up.

There's a moment where Kavinsky stands there, stunned, not kissing him back but then they both relax into it and Kavinsy releases the door so they can step into each other's space. They kiss hungrily until they're both breathless and pulling away for air.

"Shit," Kavinsky gasps. He reaches up to touch his lips, his cheeks turning a faint shade of pink.

Ronan reaches into his pocket and pulls out a matching miniature galaxy sphere and places it in Kavinsky's palm. "Text me."

Their parting less like shrapnel now and more like waves longing for the return to the shore.

A text comes later in the evening and Ronan practically dives for his phone which if Adam had been home, he'd be fairly embarrassed.

-> so about that kiss

Ronan's heart flutters as he types back, glad Kavinsky stole his number from his paperwork. Of course, he's never changed his number, maybe Kavinsky still had it from Before.

<- yea?

-> are you sure you want to do this? are you sure you want to get to know me? pretty sure you hated my guts at the end of hs

<- i did but tbf you were a piece of shit

-> thanks

<- so was i

-> we both were

<- i suck at apologies man so idk if you're wanting one or what

-> i'll take another kiss instead

<- when?

-> whenever you want to give it to me

Ronan chews his bottom lip and sends Kavinsky a final text, asking him to come over. He sends over his address and mentally makes a note to tell Kavinsky everything.

About Adam. About their life here. About their agreement. They can make it work.

The sixth time, arguably the first important time happens six months later. Sunday, the shop is closed, and they're standing in The Insitute of Contemporary Art, staring at artworks by an artist Hennessy is currently obsessing over. The rain outside is partially what drove them indoors to start with but Ronan supposes it kills two birds with one stone.

"I don't get it," Kavinsky says while he tilts his head back and forth.

"I don't think you're supposed to." Ronan turns away from the art so he can look at Kavinsky instead. He studies Kavinsky's profile, his sharp nose, and soft lips. The way his brow creases together while he looks at the painting.

"Pretty sure it's supposed to be about something important- Ronan-." Kavinsky gasps when Ronan turns him to face him. "You almost knocked me on my ass."

"You're fine," Ronan replies. He presses his forehead lightly to Kavinsky's, squeezing his hand where he holds Kavinsky's smaller one in his own. "I'm gonna say something and you're going to think I'm insane."

Kavinsky rolls his eyes. "Are you going to say you like this painting because it's fucking ugly."

"I love you."

Kavinsky blinks, clearly looking like he needs to reboot. "Excuse me?"

"I know it sounds insane but I do, I love you." Ronan blushes, wishing he hadn't spoken at all. Telling Adam he loved him had happened quickly and with ease because he knew it to be true. Now, he's standing at the precipice of loving someone else, someone he'd never expected to love but he does all the same.

"You don't have to say it back," he adds quickly. "I don't expect you to... I just wanted you to kno-." Ronan cuts off because Kavinsky is kissing him. They kiss in front of a Jeff Koons which he's sure Declan would shudder at and he knows Hennessy will laugh at. They kiss until Ronan feels dizzy and when they part, he almost has to sit down.

"Fuck," Ronan whispers.

Kavinsky's face is flushed and he clears his throat, slowly turning to look at the painting again but Ronan feels him squeeze his hand subtly. "So, what do you think this means again?"

Ronan smirks and squeezes back. "I think it fucking sucks but let's go ask Parrish."

Hearing Kavinsky laugh is enough to make everything worth it.

[portiaphan]

DV Characters as Things Hannibal Buress Has Said

Alex: "I'm a gangsta, and gangstas don't ask questions." Yes they do ask questions! I thought that was a main point of being a gangster. "Hey, mothafucka, where's my money?" That's a question. "Do you want to die tonight?" That's a question too. "What? What?" That's two questions.

Alva: Gibberish rap is - I freestyle all the time, just hangin' out with friends. And sometimes when I'm freestyling, I'll lose my flow, you know, but I'll still wanna - I don't wanna just stop rapping because I lose my flow. So I'll just put in nonsense words till I can bring in regular words again.

Brielle: I couldn't imagine only being an actor or a writer. Because what the hell do I do when I'm not working? Mope?

Battista: I’m a dumb guy. My point of view is limited.

Bellamy: Why are you booing me? I'm right!

Beau: SIX PACK ABS! TEN PACK ABS! TWELVE PACK! What if I want an odd number of abs? What if I want a five pack to show people I'm still humble?

Bernadette: My other airport nemesis is airport security. I don't like them at all. They seem so dedicated to keeping bottled water out of the sky.

Calina: I acknowledge that I jaywalked, I apologize not for the act of jaywalking but how my jaywalking made you feel. I'll try not to jaywalk in the future while you're watching but trust that I'll do it for the rest of my life - it's the best way to go about being a pedestrian.

Castora: There's a lot of dudes in my neighborhood that have handlebar mustaches. Which is cool if you want to have a handlebar mustache but don't try to have a conversation with me like you don't have a handlebar mustache.

Catherine: He said, "Man, we are right by the Adige River. These buildings are 200-300 years old, they have rats everywhere. Even the five-star restaurants have rats!" Somehow he made me feel like the asshole for bringing up rats! I don't know what kind of jedi mind trick that was - it confused the hell out of me because I still ended up ordering food then.

Cyrus: So we talk for a little bit. She says stuff, I say stuff, she says stuff, I say stuff. You know how a conversation works.

Celeste: I get upset easily by people. I saw this guy- he was on the phone. He had the phone between the ear and shoulder like that, but he didn't have anything in his hands. Which is really upsetting! Who the hell do you think you are? This action for people that are multitasking. Where's your other task? You're not doing anything else.

Daphne: He'd be the worst real estate agent ever. "Right here we have a 34 bedroom house. Let me show you around the property. Great features to this place, some of the rooms have extra, smaller rooms in them."

Delilah: I was in Scotland for all of August and it was the darkest time of my life. Mostly 'cause they call cookies biscuits. I don't like that at all. It was an incredible culture shock for me, tough to adjust but I tried for a few weeks. Pass me the chocolate chip BISCUITS. Let's have biscuits and milk, everybody. I love Oreo biscuits. But, in the fourth week, I couldn't handle it no more. THOSE ARE COOKIES THOSE AREN'T BISCUITS. Those are cookies. Cookies are cookies and biscuits are biscuits. If you call cookies biscuits, what do you call biscuits 'cause I'm not saying scones.

Everett: I did not move to Verona with a plan. The first time I moved to Verona, I just popped up. My sister was living here in Verona. I just popped up. She had her baby and a husband, and I just popped up. "Hey, what's up? I got $200 and dreams. Let's do this."

Genevieve: I can't just look at a status and move along. I see a status got 36 'likes' — can't accept it got 36 'likes' and move along. I got to click on it and start reading the names of the people that liked it. "Oh, yeah. Jim would 'like' some shit like that."

Grace: Yo ma, money over everything.

Halcyon: Awe man, I gotta get a team. I don't have a team, I just have friends. I call up my friend, "Hey man, I know you're my friend but I need you on my team right now."

Hazel: You have a regular-sized tub and a miniature tub, the sink.

Henry: You never know what could happen when you go into a store - somebody might pull a Tonya Harding on you and break your knee cap. And now you got your knees all fucked up just ‘cause you wanted to get that vinyl.

Hugo: It sounds like God owed someone some money and they couldn’t get to him, so they murked his son. That’s what I really think happened. Jesus got stabbed up in an alley… but it’s easier to sell crucifixes. You can’t sell a pendant of someone getting shanked up in the alley. It’s a marketing scheme.

Ivan: Come to your place at 5:00 in the morning, eat your food, drink your drinks, leave at 6:30 without fucking like it’s cool. That’s a passive burglary.

Isabelle: Two separate charges $400 at Barnes and Noble. Who balls out of control at Barnes and Noble?

Juliana: Believe in yourself like one of those weird-ass clothing stores that only have six shirts in them. So many questions. How much do these shirts cost? How long have y'all been here? Why is there a DJ?

Katarina: Kill people, burn shit, fuck school, I hate spam emails! That's annoying! You think you have an email from a friend but it's spam.

Lucien: I believe in my ability to not spill food in my pants 'cause I'm a goddamn adult. And I've mastered the art of getting food from my plate to my mouth without messing up my jeans. You need to believe in yourself, too and get your life together, that's for babies. Have some confidence in your eating abilities and hand/eye coordination.

Lucrezia: I'VE ALREADY SEEN LIMITLESS.

Lillian: I'm not a club person, I'm more of a bar/lounge type of person. But, I'll go anywhere if you give me a free bottle of alcohol.

Mikael: I have weird aspirations. Like, I really want to kick a pigeon.

Matthias: It's a weird emotion when you're flattered and cynical at the same time. "Oh, that's nice that you would say that, but what the fuck are you up to?"

Marcelo: I just wear black and gray all the time. If you Google Image me, you'll just see a bunch of black and gray. It's simple. If I like a shirt, I'll buy six or eight of them, wear them back-to-back, and just wait for somebody to say something. "That's the same shirt you wore yesterday." "Yeah, but this one is fresh."

Maeve: When people go through something rough in life, they say, "I'm taking it one day at a time." Yes, so is everybody. Because that's how time works.

Nikolai: But this time, it was me and this old lady we were jaywalking together. We weren't together like that. But if we were, so what? Mind your business.

Odessa: It was a phone interview and sometimes when I do phone interviews and the journalist is boring, I just start saying crazy stuff to make it fun for me.

Olivio: There have been times I’ve been out, and my phone battery is at nine percent, and I was like, "Time to go home."

Orion: Don’t thank the lord. I gave you that compliment, thank me.

Priam: I lost my debit card recently, had five charges on it before I caught it. First charge, $30 Chuckee Cheese. Who goes to Chuckee Cheese as soon as they find a debit card? Are you serious?

Paola: I applied for a job at Starbucks. One of the questions was, 'Why do you want to work at Starbucks?' Uh, because my life is in shambles.

Pandora: I don't even know how to use a semicolon to this day, I use a comma every time. And you know what? If I email somebody and they get upset about me using a comma instead of a semicolon, that's not a person I want to work with anyway. And that's how you weed people out of your life.

Ramona: I went into this restaurant in Verona called The Two Gentlemen. Went into the bathroom at The Two Gentlemen, huuuuge rat in the bathroom at The Two Gentlemen and the rat looked at me like "the fuck you doing here?" That was his vibe, very negative vibe.

Rafaella: Sometimes I get drunk and I get into arguments with taxi drivers. And I get out the cab and I slam the door. That's not the way to win an argument with a taxi driver. The way to win is you get out of the cab and you leave the door open.

Regina: And that was the first time in my life, without any sarcasm, I could say, "What? You want a cookie or something?" Because any other time you say that, you being mean, but I meant it from my heart. "How many cookies you want, man? You want seven cookies? That's way too many cookies. You're being ridiculous right now. You can take, like, three or four cookies and get out of my face. Otherwise, you're taking advantage of my generosity."

Ronan: Wack.

Roman: In my hometown of Verona, I'm kind of a medium deal.

Theodora: We got interns at the job. You can just tell them to do stuff. You gotta be nice, though. I had this cat fax something. I handed him a couple of pages, and I handed him another page. I said, "Hey, man, fax something for yourself, too."

Tomas: Rap videos confuse me cause they have to be continued at the end but the never make a sequel. Where’s the second video? There’s so much suspense!

Trinity: I was at the airport and there was this kid, four or five years old walking with his mommy, fixed his fingers in a fake gun, and then took a shot at me. And I'm looking at the wall to see if there's something on the wall he could've been shooting at 'cause I'm in denial. I look back at him, he looks me in the eyes and takes too more shots. Now I'm hit three times, that's an act of aggression. I need to defend myself.

Valentina: Morpheus, Dorpheus, Orpheus, go eat some walruses. Orifices, porridges. Morpheus, Morpheus. Going to the Buffet and Walruses. Confidence, corpseses. Worcestershire sauce. Go into your orifices. Red pill, blue pill. Morpheus, walruses. Seashells by the seashorpheus. MORPHEUS DRINKING A FORTY IN THE DEATH BASKET.

Vivianne: "We'll keep you in our thoughts" With the other bullshit in your heads? No, keep me out of your thoughts, because I hear some of the stuff you talk about and if that's close to what you're thinking about, I don't want to be around that, so keep me and my family out of your thoughts, unless you're thinking of making me a sandwich.

[100storiesin2020]

a Chainsaw in Fox Tower: Chapter 5

Ronan watched Adam sleep from the corner of his eye as he drove. Adam had spent much of his time catching up on lost sleep at the Barns this summer, and had developed a habit of falling asleep at any chance he got. Ronan figured that years of sleepless nights would take years to catch up on. He didn’t mind it, really. Adam was so beautiful asleep, with those high cheekbones and slender fingers, almost delicate and ethereal. How Ronan had won a love from such a man, he still wasn’t sure, and he was afraid, sometimes, that it would burn him alive.

Ronan nudged him as they passed the road sign for Palmetto. Adam opened his eyes, and looked at Ronan, and it was new all over again.

This love would burn him, all right, but he didn’t mind the flames.

“We’re almost there,” Adam observed, looking out the window. Campus was just off the freeway, and the next exit took them straight to it. Fox Tower was only a few turns away. They arrived, pulling into a parking spot next to the Pig as Gansey unloaded boxes. He looked up, smiling as they got out. 

“Parrish! Lynch! You’re just in time!” Gansey said. “Blue is on her way down to help us, since she is already moved in.”

“Waiting for her to come do the heavy lifting for you?” Ronan jabbed. Adam laughed as Gansey pouted.

“I can do my own heavy lifting, thank you! I was hoping she would help me decorate the dorm.”

“What do you mean, help /you/ decorate the dorm?” Ronan asked. 

“What do you mean?” Gansey looked very confused.

Adam gave him a stern look and answered the question. “Monmouth was yours to decorate. Fox Tower is ours. That means we get as much say in decorating as you do.” Gansey opened his mouth and Adam cut him off. “We do this together, as equals.”

Gansey nodded slowly. Considering the conversation over, Ronan moved to the backseat and unbuckled Chainsaw from her harness. She had been surprisingly quiet on the drive over, but that was never a guarantee for her, and so Ronan kept her tied to the seatbelt to prevent any road incidents sparked by a flying bird in the vehicle.

Chainsaw immediately took the air, calling /Kerah, kerah/ as she began to explore her new surroundings. After a few quick laps around the tower, she settled on Ronan’s shoulder just as the front door of the Tower opened, revealing Blue.

Blue walked over to them. /Walking/ wasn’t something that Ronan would often describe Blue as doing. Generally she was /pacing/, or /striding/, or /stalking/. Walking was a bit too tame for her. Something had upset her, but drawing attention to it was the worst way to get information out of her. Also, it would ruin Ronan’s terrifying image.

“Hey, maggot, come to make yourself useful?” She laughed as he handed her the largest box from Gansey’s trunk. She was so small she couldn’t see over the top of it, but she hefted it like it was nothing.

“Is that the best you’ve got, asshole?” There. Blue was back to herself, at least for a little bit. Ronan gave her a ferocious grin as he put another box on top of the one she was already carrying.

Adam stacked two of the smaller boxes and picked them up. They were full of books and probably the heaviest things there. “Don’t hurt yourself, Parrish,” Ronan drawled. 

Adam just gave him that /look/ and turned to Blue. “You’ve been here a bit, can you lead the way?”

As they started into Fox Tower, Adam called back. “Grab the small box first, Lynch!”

Ronan growled and put the suitcase back, grabbing the small box instead. 

“Why does it matter?” asked Gansey. “Isn’t it all going upstairs anyway?”

Ronan didn’t bother replying. He hauled the box of dreamstuff into the Tower and up the stairs behind Blue and Adam, Gansey in tow with suitcases and Chainsaw still on his shoulder. Blue was telling Adam about how she had decorated her part of the room, and some of her observations of the new teammates. He tuned it out, concentrating instead on the muscles in Adam’s back, his soft hair and quiet laughter. As they arrived at the right room, Blue pointed out her room just two doors down. They opened the door (Gansey had handed Blue they key) and walked into a very blank living room. As Gansey closed the door behind them, Ronan shoved his small box into Adam’s recently-vacated arms. “Here’s your precious plants, Parrish. I need a nap.” Adam looked at him, head slightly tilted to one side. A silent question. He sneered back in a silent answer and continued on his way. Now was the true test of the Palmetto leyline, and he needed to do it alone.

Ronan didn’t bother to shut the door to the bedroom. Chainsaw hopped from his shoulder to the bedpost, and then started to explore the room. There was a set of bunk beds and one lone bed on the other side of the room. He took the lone bed, knowing it was the safest option should he dream something unintentional. He laid down and relaxed as he heard Adam and Gansey arguing about where stuff should be placed in the living room.

“Do we really need so many plants, Adam? They take up so much space.”

“They’re more useful than your Glendower papers are now,” Adam replied. Fuck, Ronan liked this confident version of Adam. “Also, if you brought your little Henrietta please do NOT put it near the window, I need that spot.”

“Oh no, Gansey,” Blue laughed. “Where are you going to put little Henrietta?”

“I left it at Monmouth, Jane.”

“Oh thank god,” Adam and Blue said in chorus. Ronan drifted to sleep to faint chirps of /kerah/ as they started to squabble over how the cupboards would be arranged.

He didn’t dream of a forest today. He was standing on a short clif, looking down at a fast-moving river. The other bank of the river was a flat plain, giving a good view of the many switchbacks and curves in the more distant parts of the river. The cliff went all along this edge, but it was not sheer, and stout trees grew out of the side of it. Ronan walked along the cliff until he came to a dip, an almost-trail, leading down to the river, and descended.

The water changed as he approached, not uncommon for a dream. It went from a deep greenish blue to completely transparent, as if there was no water at all. Ronan picked up a rock and launched it into the river. It splashed, and ripples of silver spread back to the edge on which he stood. 

This was not Cabeswater, but it had the same feeling of home, and Ronan knew what he needed to do.

He took a step.

The water was warm and soothing, cleansing his feet. He didn’t have shoes anymore, which was as it should be. He took more steps, the water remaining clear as ever, now without even ripples to distort the riverbed below him. He whispered to the water, /show me what I need. Something for Blue. Something to make this home for her./ He took another step, and then he saw it below him in the river. It was perfect. He dove in a pried it from underneath a rock, then sat down on the riverbed to look at it. Breathing was not an issue here.

He woke, frozen to his bed as always. He could feel the smooth wood of a picture frame beneath his fingers. Fuck, he was cold. He’d forgotten to get out of the water before waking himself up, and he was soaked to the bone. Even his socks were wet, though his shoes were dry. Go figure.

He slammed his feet onto the floor and stomped back to the living room. He saw everyone freeze and turn towards him as he entered. Adam had his plants spread in the various corners, and Blue had set up a trellis so the viney one could stretch itself across the wall. Gansey was putting pots in the cupboard, and Ronan noted that they were a mix of Adam’s shitty stuff from thrift stores and new stuff which Gansey had obviously procured. He would have to go through the kitchen later and see what was missing so he could dream it up.

“Catch, maggot.” He tossed the picture at her head and stomped off to the bathroom to take a warm shower. Fuck, he was going to have to be careful to dry off if he ended up dreaming the river again.

*****

Blue caught the flying object out of reflex as Ronan stomped off. The bathroom door slammed shut behind him. Turning to the others, she asked, “Do you think the leyline is strong enough for him?”

Adam smiled softly, still looking at the space Ronan had just occupied. “I think if it wasn’t, he wouldn’t have had that for you.” He eyed the object in her hand.

“I’m rather concerned about him being soaking wet,” Gansey interjected.

Adam shrugged. “He was probably underwater when he woke himself up. It’s happened before, though rarely. It always pisses him off.”

Blue was delighted. “And you would know this, how, exactly?”

Adam glared at her. “What did he give you?” he asked, ignoring the question.

Oh, right. Blue looked at the thing she had caught. It was a picture in a frame that felt wooden under her fingers but seemed to actually be made of silver. It seemed to be a traditional photo, at first, but then it was an oil painting, and then watercolor, before shifting to a pencil sketch and back to a photo. It featured her and all her Raven boys. She was in the center, with Noah on one side, arm over her shoulder, and Gansey on the other side holding her hand. Beyond Gansey was Henry striking a wild dance pose. Adam and Ronan were on the other side of Noah, standing shoulder to shoulder and leaning on each other a bit. Behind them was the Pig, and beyond it was Cabeswater. It was perfect.

Tears welled up in her eyes as she looked at Noah. She missed him so much.

At Gansey’s questioning look, she handed it over. Adam peered at it over his shoulder, and they were both obviously touched.

Gansey stared at it a little too long, transfixed. The smell of warm earth and leaves filled the room, and Blue saw shadows of tree branches in the corners of her vision. Gansey was still as a statue, looking very /otherly/ at that moment.

“Earth to Gansey,” Adam said, plucking the picture from his fingers, and the tree branches seemed to /snap/ away as Gansey came back to himself.

“Oh, my apologies,” he said. “When are we, Jane?”

“It’s our first day in Palmetto, it’s 4 o’clock, and we should probably start making our way to the court for our first official team meeting.”

Gansey nodded. "Then we will go as soon as Ronan joins us."

[spiltscribbles]

Stay For A While

Notes: I had a really really awful day and this was in my drafts, so here we go.

.-

Ronan’s never really noticed how pungent the scent  of hospitals are, the eerily clean surfaces that are masked with the smell of the  residue of the alcohol remover Blue uses to clean off her nails once she inevitably gets bored of which ever eccentric color she’d chosen for that week. (Ronan remembers a particularly amusing night at Monmouth when Henry had dared Ronan to drink the bottle whole, to which Blue— pixie sized and never putting up with any amount of shit— cuffed them both on the back of the heads scoldingly,  “You can’t drink it asshole, it’s like poisonous.”) 

Idly, Ronan thinks that he’d rather chug down ten complete bottles of that shit instead of sitting here in this utter hell hole of a waiting room, the smell of antiseptics clogging his nostrils and  glaringly florescent lights pounding down on him and a swarm of strangers trying to catch his eye for polite, if not a bit flirtatious, small talk. All just to wait for some fucking quack to tell him what half a dozen others said before. That Opal’s condition is to severe, to intensive, too unstructured. For this prick to tell Ronan that the technology just isn’t here yet and that they should just give it a rest already. 

God fucking damn it, Ronan hates this place, hates all the memories it evokes and the literal hopelessness that’s woven into it. He hates it even more that he fucking let Gansey talk him into meeting with this fucking prick of a doctor, getting his hopes up and making Ronan actually believe this Parrish douche is worth meeting with. 

“He’s a class act Ronan, truly,” Gansey had crowed in that uniquely Gansey way of his— all American charm and boyishly enthused smile. “Carruthers had sung his praises to us for so long that I simply insisted he came to Lucy’s christening a bit ago.”

That’s when Ronan had cocked a brow at his oldest friend, unconvinced that Helen of all people would allow any riffraff to puncture her picture perfect soiree for her picture perfect daughter to show off her picture perfect life.

“I bet princess wasn’t to happy with that impromptu invitation?”

“That was until she met the boy,” Gansey had corrected a bit too cheekily for Ronan’s liking, finger waggling in the space between them and it took all Ronan had not to bite it right off. “Carruthers was right on! Parrish is a magnificent specimen, and smart as a whip too!”

“What a dreamboat,” said Ronan, deadpanned and wondering if he’ll ever be over Gansey’s theatrics. (Most likely not on account of his loving the dip-shit like a fourth brother.) 

“You know he got his medical degree from Harvard? And his undergraduate at Princeton?”

“Gee Gansey, I’m swooning.”

“Well don’t fall in love with him quite yet,” Gansey had chuckled good naturedly with a patting to Ronan’s shoulder. “I reckon you’ll need him for another, much more important reason.” Ronan just furrowed his brows, not bothering to show any actual interest, and Gansey just flashed him a row of pearly whites in turn. “You’ll never believe his senior year thesis was about? Fibula Hemimelia.”

Ronan’s heart had lodged in his throat and he suddenly, foolishly, felt a surge of pure hope. So Gansey had set up everything. He had scheduled  the meeting for a day he knew Opal didn’t have school and Ronan didn’t have work,  he had called to send over Opal’s medical history, and on top of it all Gansey had convinced Ronan that continuing to try was better than to give up, and Ronan had agreed. That’s why he’s sitting in this hell hole now, glower securely set on his face and simultaneously watching Opal as she built and destroyed her lego towers, while staving off any too curious onlookers. 

Finally— mercifully— A kind faced nurse had called out, “Opal L,” and they were being dashed off behind the doors to get all the preliminary numbers before being lead into the quacks office. 

“Don’t break any of his shit,” Ronan tells  Opal as she made her way to the corner where some blocks and puzzles were set out, crushes and all. 

It’s another ten minutes of waiting until the door swings open and a low, molasses smooth voice greets them good morning while taking a seat in his desk. And well…. He’s all cutting cheekbones and piercing eyes and his hair’s the same color as the caramel cubes that Arora use to set out for guests back in the barns when Ronan was a kid. Ronan feels a instant pulsing of white hot hatred towards Gansey at this exact moment for not giving him the heads up that this Parrish fuck is only moonlighting as a doctor while actually having a career in modeling or some shit. 

“G’morning,” he holds out his all too attractive hand, and Ronan pretends his insides aren’t imploding while he gives it one quick, savage shake. “I’m Dr Parrish, and you must be Ronan Lynch?”

“Yes.”

“Wonderful,” if Parrish was put off by Ronan’s standoffish demeanor, he doesn’t show it, just continues on speaking in that crisp cadence that Ronan thinks all doctors have mastered in one way or the other, and goes back to flipping through the blindingly yellow binder in his grasp. He doesn’t bother with pleasantries, or puts on a facade with some overly cheerful smile and Ronan appreciates him for it, he’s gone through too many stilted conversations of a blank eyed doctor telling him that there’s no hope with an uncomfortably large smile threatening to split their faces in half. 

Ronan much prefers the touch of realism that Parrish is offering up.

“So is it just you for today or are we waiting for Mom?”

“Mom doesn’t exist,” Ronan says, words clipped— He reckons he’ll never not be irritated by that automatic assumption, even when it’s ridiculously pretty doctors making them. 

Parrish quirks a brow at him and Ronan relents, just slightly. 

“She was an orphan till I adopted her a few years ago, so it’s just me.”

“Oh, I see,” Ronan pretends his chest doesn’t totally contract at the sight of the other man’s small, thin lipped smile that makes his eyes shimmer a thousand splendid shades of blue and green and violet. “My apologies.”

“Whatever.”

“I’m turning seven in three weeks.” Opal, excited for a new audience, announces with a manic grin, her ash blonde hair tugged out it’s ponytail and her big brown eyes gazing at the doctor like he’s one of her dolls. 

“No way, really?” Parrish says, and if Ronan thought his small, privately impressed smile was charming, it’s nothing on the one he’s beaming at Opal with right now. It’s beautiful in its unadulterated sincerity, in the way it crinkles the corners of his wide eyes and brightens his countenance ten fold. Ronan inwardly thinks that the grin is one he doesn’t dole out that often, which is a real shame because Dr Parrish’s dimples should probably be declared an eighth wonder of the world by who ever the fuck decides on that sort of shit. 

“You must be Opal.”

“Are you my new doctor?” She asks, abrasive if it weren’t coupled with her toothy smile.

“Yes, I think I am, if you’ll have me?”

“Cool,” Opal marvels. “Will you actually help me?”

There’s an instant tautness to the air that Opal, in all her childhood obliviousness, doesn’t notice, but Parrish doesn’t let it linger. 

“I certainly hope so.”

Adequately convinced, Opal pivots around and returns to her puzzle. 

The next hour is composed of Ronan answering questions he’s been asked a million other times, (“Yes, it’s the left leg. Yes, the bone is completely missing and her foot’s heel is ruptured as well. Yes I know that some doctors have suggested removing the leg completely and replacing it with a  prosthetic, but i already told you that they’re all fucking stupid and lazy, and I already said I want to exhaust all options until I consider it.”)

“I hope we don’t have to get to that point,” Parrish says like an oath and Ronan knows it in his bones that Parrish— Adam according to the admittedly impressive array of degrees adorned on his wall, can’t promise anything to him or Opal in so many words, but it doesn’t stop him from believing that Adam could actually do what the others couldn’t. 

For the  next quarter of an hour Adam examines Opal’s leg and takes notes in a scrawl Ronan doubts anyone could ever actually transcribe, until he’s seemingly satisfied.

They make an appointment for next Tuesday, giving Parrish enough time to examine all the information he’s gathered, and can talk to Ronan about the options on the table for Opal. 

“Alright, see you then doc.”

“Adam. You can just call me Adam.”

Ronan just snorts, derisive, before carting Opal out of the room. 

“You think he’s cute,” she preens.

“Shut your trap,” Ronan hisses. THat doesn’t stop Opal singing some ridiculous nursery rhymes about trees and kissing and babies all the way home.

.

-

Next time they meet is right after Ronan drops Opal off to school, and Adam looks just as competent and put together as the last time. He explains each possibility with no inflection, just straight facts for Ronan to take in and comprehend however he’d like.

“So either way it’s surgery,” Ronan bristles. 

“If you want to avoid the prosthetic, yes. You can either continue with the latter which would slow down the growth of her right leg so that the left could catch up, or we can conduct several procedures in the next few years adding to the length of the left to match that of the right.”

“That sounds like mumbo jumbo shit to me,” Ronan bites out, trying his best not to sound as frustrated and frightened as he feels. Though the way Adam’s ordinarily stoic looking expression softens ever so slightly, tells Ronan that he’s doing a pretty shit job at it.

“I know it’s a difficult decision, especially when it’s for your kid,” Adam’s voice ripples right then but it immediately goes back to it’s typical, low timbre. Ronan doesn’t probe. “But I assure you that which ever decision you make it’ll be the right one.”

“How? How do you know that?” Ronan asks, challenging.

“Opal’s young, and healthy. She’s still growing, both procedures are optimal when that’s still a major factor. And besides, it’s clear that you love her. You know what’s best for her because you’ll do your research.”

There’s a different stillness to the air than there was last week, but Ronan doesn’t think it’s any less charged. 

“When do you need an answer?”

“As soon as possible. We want to make sure we can get the best feasible results.”

“Fine.” Ronan gets up to leave but is stopped by Adam calling after him.

“I’m always a resource if you need it.”

Ronan doesn’t reply, just purses his lips before snatching the card Adam holds out for him and swaggers out with a thousand different thoughts swarming in his head, ones about Opal. About her leg. About the healing process, the tole  it’d have on her. How she’s so small and delicate already, About Dr Adam Parrish and his pretty eyes.

Ronan realizes about half way to work that Adam had written his personal cell number on the back, and pretends that his cheeks aren’t blazing red, chides at himself that he’s only Opal’s doctor. That’s all.

It’s for Opal, that’s it.

.- 

“I like Dr Parrish.”

Ronan starts at the non sequitur, eyeing Opal like she’s grown a second head right here in the middle of Nino’s while they wait for their pizzas to take to Gansey’s place. After weeks of paper work and consultations and check ups, Opal’s first official surgery would be taking place tomorrow afternoon and they all agreed it calls for celebration. 

“Okay… That was random.” 

“Nah-uh,” she peevishly sniffs, lips twisted in irritation— Ronan doesn’t give a fuck about DNA because that’s straight out of his playbook. “Look!” 

He follows her insistent finger pointing onto the distance through the window, just making out the sight of none other than Adam fucking Parrish strolling down the street, dying afternoon light dancing golden in his hair and touching the tops of his cheekbones… It’s all very cinematic if Ronan’s being at all honest.

“Imma say hi,” Opal announces, and before Ronan can tell her to sit her ass down she’s dashing off through the doors and stopping him in his tracks. 

“Damn it,” Ronan curses under his breath before saddling up behind her. 

“Dr Parrish!”

Jolting back, Adam scans his surroundings before finally casting his gaze down to find pipe sized Opal smiling up at him, and by rote, he returns the expression.

“Opal!”

“Daddy didn’t believe me but I saw you all the way from inside,” she tells him pridefully,  and Ronan only roles his eyes heavenwards. 

“Good eye,” Adam says, crouching down so that they’re level. 

“What are you doing at Nino’s?” 

“I reckon I’m doing the same thing as you and your pops here.”

“Getting dinner and teasing Aunty Blue for working here when she was little?”

Adam cuts a glance at Ronan, silent question of “What the fuck,” painted all over his features. 

“It’s done lovingly.” He says in a monotone and no. Ronan absolutely does not feel the flutterings of butterflies swarming down deep at Adam’s bemused laughter.

“You should come to Uncle Gansey’s house!” Opal crows. “He’s throwing a party for me cuz of my op-op-peratoin tomorrow!”

“Operation,” Ronan softly corrects.

“Oh yeah that!” Opal squawks.

“That’s really cool Opal, I’m glad that they’re doing that for ya.” Adam says, utterly sincere.

“So you’ll come!”

“Yeah doc, come and get boozed up before the surgery,” Ronan says, only partially teasing. 

“Sorry Opal darling,” Adam says, lips pouting. “I promised an old friend that I’d actually eat out with them, and I seriously doubt that your Dad or Uncle or whom ever would appreciate me crashing in on your family time.”

Opal looks grief-stricken and Ronan privately thinks he feels the same.

“My birthday then!” Opal proclaims.

“It’s after the surgery and it’s not until next week and could you come please!”

“Ah,” Adam’s eyes surreptitiously flutter over to Ronan, seeking permission.

“There could never be enough guests,” he says, totally flat.

“Alrighty then, I’d be honored to come Opal.”

“Yay!” She tackles into Adam for a quick embrace and then leaps into Ronan’s arms over the excitement.

“Oh Parrish, just heads up, the themes Disney Princesses, and the invitations explicitly dictate that everyone dresses up.”

Adam glares nastily at Ronan but then just tosses Opal a thumbs up, Ronan translates it for the bird he’d rather be tossing him.

.-

Ronan admits that he regrets everything the moment Adam fucking Parrish strolls into his house wearing a shit eating grin, and a full on Prince Philip costume— tights and all.

Everything in the procedure went as wonderfully as anyone could’ve hoped, so Opal— dawning a sparkling pink princess dress— promenaded through the party in the Barns with a huge smile on her face and a sharpie pen so that all her guests would sign her cast, a beaming Blue pushing her along in the tiny wheelchair the hospital provided. But even with how precious she looks, and the excited thrumming in the air, all Ronan could focus on is fucking god damn Adam Parrish. 

“Lynch,” he says in greeting, swinging around a large, wrapped box. Ronan jutted his chin to the table carrying the rest of the gifts and Adam dropped it off before returning to his side.

“Lovely place you got here.”

“If that was your attempt at small talk, you’re shit at it.” Is how Ronan chooses to reply. 

Something warm and splendid coils somewhere deep in  Ronan’s gut at the sound of Adam’s miraculous peals of laughter.

“You’re such a shit.”

Ronan feels charged by that one comment.

“Oh, so Doc’s got a little bite all of a sudden?”

“Always have,” Adam corrects in that detached, ever amused way of his. “Only thing was that you were my client, but everything with Opal went better than expected, so now I can call you out for being a complete prick whenever I please.”

“So you still expect to see me outside of the allotted appointments for my daughter?” Ronan snarks, snide and excited.

Adam just gives him a one armed shrug before leaning close to Ronan’s ear— hot breath skirting against his skin. “You aren’t slick, but my ass appreciates your intense focus.”

At that, Adam swivels around on his heals to grab a drink and to say hello to Opal, and Ronan knows he’s fucked.

***

Five years later, when they’ve got matching bands of gold and Adam’s slumped on the sofa with Ronan’s head propped on his lap— the pair of them  watching over Opal tending to her new baby brother— Ronan thinks to when Gansey warned that he shouldn’t fall in love with Adam.

Ronan laughs and Adam flicks him on the temple for being such a freak.

[thealternatemind]

Rules: name ten favourite characters from ten different things (books, tv, film, etc.) then tag ten people.

@ellacj thank you i love you this one was so much fun i have so much to say!!!

so...... i ended up writing a lot. i love fictional characters a lot, okay?

caleb widogast (critical role) -- what can i say? traumatized, mentally ill yet incredibly silly nerd that adores cats and his friends???? um.... me? in all seriousness, i relate to him a lot, and he serves as a huge comfort character for me. i adore him, and even that word doesn’t suffice how much he means to me.

ronan lynch (the raven cycle/dream trilogy) -- i appreciate an angry character, especially when that angry character grows into something more. he’s so dynamic and has changed so much from trb, which is fascinating, since he himself believes that he’s static

yennefer of vengerberg (the witcher) -- she doesn’t get enough love from the fandom. she is a complicated, angry, and traumatized woman written FOR women. she has been taught to maintain control her whole life, when all she wants to do is SCREAM. the woman experience right there.

michael guerin (roswell new mexico) -- i saw a bisexual disaster, and i said, “that. i like that.” this show is trash, but the characters make me love it. michael is filled with love and struggles so hard to express it, especially when love his whole life, whether romantic or platonic, has been tied to pain.

lydia martin (teen wolf) -- i was a teen wolf kid from 2012-2016, man. i worshiped this show in my teenage years, and lydia was a huge part of that. seems like a nasty, shallow girl on the surface. underneath, she is so deeply caring and soft and intelligent.... also she made me realize i was gay

gorgug thistlespring (fantasy high) -- i just started fantasy high!! gorgug is ADORABLE. awkward nerd boy? hey it’s my character type! he’s just really dumb and wants the best for his friends and to find his father and just... i love that about him. also he’s bi/pan, which automatically makes me adore a character more.

neil josten (the foxhole court/all for the game) -- SASSY BASTARD KING. i binge read the first book in one sitting, and i remember the MOMENT he roasted riko on live television, that he would go down in history as one of my faves. he cares so little about his own well-being but adores his friends and andrew so much... he’s so, so funny in a dry way, and he doesn’t even know it

sirius black (harry potter) --  i’m a marauders ho. y’all know that. fanon sirius gives me life. he’s been through such a rough, hard life. it’s made him desperate for attention. it’s made him vain and mean, but that doesn’t stop him loving his friends so, so much... he would do anything for them.

steve harrington (stranger things) -- steve. everybody loves good ol’ steve. he’s a classic himbo. his best friend’s a lesbian. he’s great with kids! he has awesome hair! what isn’t there to love? i just wanna chill with him, ya know?

isak valtersen (skam) -- BOI. what a little snake, amiright? he’s an icon though. i couldn’t not include him. he goes from a slimy little asshole to an adorably sweet little asshole! he messes up constantly, which i love. but he always comes back from those mistakes. he apologizes. he grows. from season 1 through 4, he changed so, so much.

i’m probs not tagging 10 ppl cuz i don’t think i know that many but i’ll tag some mutuals! @vvlcanspock @gleedegrassi-bigfan @221buckythesoldier @breadsacrifice @hallieisntbritish @littlecajunlady @quoththeraven-fuck @my-mind-is-a-weapon @thirst-god brace yourselves, i’m about to tag y’all in another haha!

as always, no pressure to finish this! i just think they’re fun. (:

[starfruitnycarchive]

what are your thoughts on the raven cycle?

i havent read it since like 2015 so i don’t remember that many specifics but the first and second books were good and it had potential to be an interesting series but after the dream thieves it got really messy and inconsistent like the plot was just all over the place for no reason like i remember reading the last book and constantly thinking what is going on because it made no sense and also literally every character was unbearable except for noah and adam like i genuinely cant stand ronan gansey and blue and that’s 3/4 main characters (noah is barely a main character since hes barely there so he doesn’t count 🙂) blue was just constantly annoying, gansey was an entitled brat, ronan was an even worse entitled brat, and i genuinely hated pynch so much bc adam deserved someone wayyyyy better than ronan like why would adam settle for someone who called him one of the “poverty twins” like how fucked up is that like yeah sure ronan was going through a lot and i can understand a mean character but from what i remember he never apologized for being a complete asshole to anybody especially adam but i didn’t expect that from a shitty self insert that maggie wrote to idk make herself seem cool but as much as i don’t like ronan i think it was absolutely fucked up of the gray man to suddenly be always there in the last book and be blue’s moms love interest and everyone didn’t give a shit and expected ronan to just be fine with it. i also really genuinely hate maggie like i’ve never hated an author more she was a grown woman arguing with teenagers on tumblr bc they had different interpretations and feelings about her characters than she did as if she could control how other people felt about her books like yes you wrote it but not everyone has to love or hate the same characters as you like she was soooo annoying and never shut up like she always just had to open her mouth and talk also not gonna get into kavinsky shit in the year 2020 but when people rightfully pointed out the xenophobia surrounding his character she said something like “i drove through bulgaria on a road trip i understand the struggles eastern europeans face” or some gross shit like that like she was just so unbearably awful but ummm basically i don’t like the writing, characters, pynch, and maggie

[tamquaam]

05 and pynch pretty please make it sad with a side of sad

05: Please don’t do this (thank u so much for sending a number, hope u like!) 

The Barns were always especially quiet. The ever present silence could usually be broken up into three kinds. There was the calm quiet of nights spent studying skin, the eerie quiet of a dreamer at work, and the natural quiet of a place hidden from the rest of the world.

Ronan discovered a fourth quiet. The kind that came after a storm swept through and left everything in pieces. The kind that meant the storm still silently brewed, waiting to let loose again. He and Adam sat in its eye on opposite sides of the house, away from each other, away from the wreckage.

In less than a month, Adam would be off to Harvard. In less than a month, they would have to say goodbye to the summer and each other. The mere thought of not having Adam around scared Ronan. What if Adam found someone better? What if he just couldn’t deal with long distance on top of school? What if they grew apart? Questions taunted Ronan every day and he fed into them, let them decide the answers for themselves.

They talked about it a couple of times. Adam assured that Ronan was being ridiculous and in return, Ronan promised to always be around for Adam to come back.

“As long as you’re in, I’m in.”

Ronan convinced himself it would be fine until he couldn’t anymore. Till he couldn’t trust himself to believe Adam, till he realized just how much better off Adam might be without him and let it poison them both.

They bickered frequently enough as it was, but with Ronan’s doubts and Adam’s frustration hardly kept at bay anymore, they only fought more.

Every fight, every apology, every kiss to promise they would be ok led to this. Ronan was sitting quietly at the kitchen table when Adam walked in. He heard the scuff of Adam kicking off his shoes, heard the familiar creak of the floorboards. He popped his head in to greet Ronan, but Ronan heard his breath cut off. Adam crossed Ronan’s line of sight to the sink where he wet a paper towel. He pulled a chair up next to Ronan and moved to wipe the black matter from Ronan’s nose, but Ronan snatched it away at the last second.

“What’s wrong?” Adam asked, stung.

Ronan couldn’t even look at him.

“This,” Ronan answered quietly. “Everything about this is wrong.”

“What are you talking about?”

Ronan wiped his nose roughly, shook his head, didn’t answer right away.

“This,” Ronan repeated. “Us. Me being whatever I am and you having to fucking worry about it all the time.”

“Ronan-”

“I don’t want-”

“We are not wrong,” Adam argued. “We… you’re one of the only things that’s right,” he admitted softly.

Ronan’s eyes burned. He turned away to hide them from Adam, to avoid seeing if Adam’s looked the same.

“You’re leaving,” Ronan said.

“How many times did I ask you to tell me if you wanted me to stay?”

“I don’t!”

Ronan shot up from his seat and Adam followed. “I don’t want you to stay, Parrish. You’re leaving for something so much more than me and Henrietta and this,” Ronan explained, gesturing frantically between himself and Adam.

“Jesus, Ronan, it’s not more it’s just different.”

“Please,” Ronan scoffed. “You know it’s bigger than this. You’re bigger than all this.”

Adam rubbed his hand over his face, combed through his hair with a bit of extra pull. “Please tell me what you’re trying to say,” he said tiredly, exasperation laced through each word.

Ronan looked from Adam to the floor.

“We can’t do this anymore,” Ronan said, as quietly as he could manage.

“Excuse me?”

Ronan hated the way Adam’s accent sounded so strong, how his voice cracked just a bit.

“We can’t do this anymore,” Ronan repeated, this time looking directly into Adam’s eyes even though just doing so turned Ronan’s heart into a block of ice. “I can’t hold you back anymore.”

Adam’s face fell, but in a split second his lips turned up at the corners. A laugh, if you could call it that, fell from his lips, a bitter, angry sound.

“That’s really fucking great, Ronan. Decide for me what I need. You had the whole summer to pull this shit, but you chose now.”

“I’m not pulling anything,” he said.

“You’re breaking up with me because you decided that’s what’s best for me,” Adam spat. “That’s not fair.”

“You’re not as smart as I thought if you think it’s not what’s best,” Ronan shot back.

Adam’s eyebrows quirked like he was impressed by Ronan’s attitude and he scoffed, shook his head.

“You’re a coward,” Adam said, eyes narrowed and mouth a straight line.

“No I’m not.”

“Yes, Ronan, you are. You’re too scared to even try to see this through,” Adam said.

“C’mon,” Ronan groaned. “As if you don’t know this isn’t going to last.”

Adam shrunk back and Ronan felt the hate he always harbored for himself start to spread.

“Admit it. It’s for the best.”

“I’m not admitting shit if it’s not true.”

“Dammit, Adam, get it through your head, ok? This is over,” Ronan nearly shouted. “It’s over.”

Just as loud and with just as much heat, Adam told him this wasn’t fair. The fire only burned more furiously, suffocating them both. They screamed back and forth, Adam following Ronan from room to room trying desperately to hold onto the frayed rope. Adam refused to accept Ronan’s answers, kept calling him a coward, spoke with venom in his voice like Ronan had never heard. Ronan shot back relentlessly, every word burying the knife deeper into Adam and himself.

They went on for nearly two hours, hands thrown up in the air, voices tired, hearts broken. Adam only backed down when his voice couldn’t hold up anymore, when he grew too tired to put on a face and fight.

“Fuck you,” was all he said as he climbed up the stairs.

Ronan waited till he heard his bedroom door slam shut before he backed into the closest wall and slid down, let his head fall into his hands.

He needed to do this. He needed to let go, they needed to let each other go.

Ronan heard the telltale footsteps of Adam pacing upstairs. They stopped a while later and Ronan still hadn’t moved from the floor. Ronan lost track of time and when he finally stood up and stalked to the bottom of the stairs, it was close to three in the morning. He sighed and forced himself to go up, opened the door as quietly and cautiously as he could manage. He wouldn’t exactly have been upset if Adam threw something at him to keep him out. Ronan poked his head in and Adam was on the floor just as Ronan had been. Back to the wall, defeated. Ronan hated to see it.

Ronan dropped down next to him and Adam lifted his head, but looked away. He sniffled and when he spoke his voice was hoarse.

“This is where we had our first kiss.”

Ronan thought if he flattened his hands to the floor, broken pieces of what they had been would cut into his palms. He didn’t say anything, but he did look at Adam. His eyes were red and just a little puffy, like they might get when he overslept. Adam met his eyes and Ronan noted how tired he looked, how worn. Ronan did this to him. Ronan would always do this.

They quietly watched one another and Adam broke the heavy silence first, his voice gravelly when he spoke.

“Please don’t do this,” he said softly.

“Adam,” Ronan pleaded, but Adam shook his head.

“You’re scared. I know that. You don’t think I am, too?”

“What do you have to be scared of?”

“Jesus, Ronan, everything,” he admitted. “I’m excited and I’m ready for it, but it’s still scary. One of the scariest parts is leaving you,” he added. “I thought I would always have you to come back to. You promised me that.”

Adam’s voice wobbled, thickened with the stones that settled in his throat and made it hard to talk.

“You deserve so much more than me and this place,” Ronan told him.

“No. I deserve what I want and so do you. You are not bad for me, Ronan, you aren’t this- this monster that you’ve decided you are.”

“I don’t want to hold you back. I can’t do that to you and I can’t let you do it to yourself.”

“Ronan, you’ve told me over and over to go to Harvard. You’ve helped me with the shitbox, you’ve offered the BMW, you’ve told me how well I’m going to do there and not to worry,” Adam went on. “How have you ever held me back?”

Ronan’s head hung low.

“I don’t want you to feel like you have to stay with me,” Ronan explained. “I’ve lost everyone, I almost lost Gansey,” he said, voice threatening to break. “I can’t fucking lose you too, Parrish.”

“So instead of losing me, you’re letting me go,” Adam filled in the blanks. “Because if you leave first, it won’t hurt the same.”

Ronan laughed darkly. “Oh, I think it hurts the same.”

“Then don’t do this,” Adam said again.

He pushed away from the wall and fixed himself in front of Ronan, reached for him with cautious hands. When Adam’s fingers touched Ronan’s cheek, a tear fell that was quickly followed by another. Ronan shut his eyes tight in hopes to keep the barriers steady.

“Listen to me, Ronan. I want to hate you right now, but I can’t and do you know why?” Adam paused for a moment as if he was giving Ronan time to answer, but Ronan feared what might happen if he opened his mouth. “Because I love you, asshole. How can you think I’m going to leave you or forget you when-” Adam paused again, in search of the right words, “-you’re home, Ronan?”

Ronan cursed under his breath and Adam kept his hands on either side of Ronan’s face.

“I get to decide for myself what’s best for me and that’s you. Nothing is going to change that and I wish you trusted me enough to know it’s the truth.”

“It’s not you I don’t trust, Parrish,” Ronan said.

“It sure as hell feels like it is.”

Another tear spilled down Ronan’s cheek and Adam wiped it away.

“I don’t want to let go of us, Ronan,” Adam said evenly. “Please don’t make me if it’s not what you really want, either, ok?”

Ronan nodded once and then again, kept nodding even as he reached out to desperately pull Adam onto his lap and hold onto him like his life depended on it.

“I’m sorry,” he said into Adam’s neck. “I’m scared of fucking up Harvard for you, I’m scared you’re going to find someone better.”

Adam clung to him just as tight. Ronan apologized again, forehead against Adam’s and Adam shook his head.

“I need time,” Adam said. “You hurt me, Ronan.”

“I know.”

Adam wiped Ronan’s cheek again and stood up, pulled Ronan with him. The sky was still deep blue, but maybe a shade or two lighter. The line of treetops out the window was more visible than it was during the darkest hour of the night.

“I think I’m going to St. Agnes,” Adam said tiredly.

“You can stay.”

“I know.”

Ronan understood. He was pissed to put it extremely lightly.

“Do you work?”

“Not today.”

Ronan followed Adam downstairs and leaned against the doorway as Adam walked out.

“Can I pick you up later?”

Adam nodded and stayed close to Ronan for a few beats. He gently knocked his forehead against Ronan’s and Ronan closed his eyes, pushed back with gentle force so that their noses brushed.

“Go,” Adam commanded gently. “Sleep. Dream. We’ll be alright.”

Ronan nodded and didn’t shut the door until Adam was no longer in sight. He climbed back upstairs and fell into bed, rubbed at tired eyes. Guilt made it hard to settle down, but when sleep finally claimed him, he dreamed of a familiar voice telling him they would be ok.

[machihunnicutt]

Three Sorries and a Thank You

(or read on ao3.)

1.

He thought about Ronan when he applied for internships. In a shocking twist, Adam Parrish factored his return to Henrietta into his decisions. There were several options that began in July, giving him two months with Ronan before returning to his dorm room at Columbia. Two months, the idea of it made his pulse quicken. Two months of kissing a dreamer. Two months of sharp smiles and sunshine. In the back of his mind he thought that maybe he deserved a break.

"Hey Parrish, how are finals?" Ronan asked. It was getting late and Adam was still working at his desk when he called. Adam yawned.

"I'm alive," he said sardonically. "How are you?"

"I'm sleeping more than you are. How much longer do you have?" It might have been Adam's imagination but he sounded a little nervous.

"Two weeks. You miss me?" Adam said teasingly. Ronan usually laughed at quips like that but he didn't this time.

"I do miss you, a lot," he said, voice low. "I actually wanted to ask you something Parrish."

"Yeah?"

"I um, when you come back you should...I mean if you want, I'd like you to...fuck Parrish why is this hard? I um, would you like to move in with me? I mean it wouldn't be a big deal because you'd go back to school obviously so it wouldn't be for long and..."

"Yes, Ronan. Of course I will."

He heard him sigh. "You could tell how nervous I was couldn't you asshole?"

"A little bit. Thanks for doing it anyway." The Barns already felt like home. Ronan felt like home. He realized, with a rush of emotion that Ronan's bed would be his too. He thought about sharing closets, Adam's clothes being mixed so seamlessly with Ronan's that he'd end up wearing his sweatshirts: sleeves too long and collars stretched out.

"I'll be home before you know it," he said, surprising himself with how easily he used the word home. Home was a foreign concept growing up. Home, along with love, safety, and friendship was a concept he learned only years later. "I've gotta go now Lynch. I love you."

"I love you too Parrish."

He didn't have a lot of luggage. The drive from New York to Henrietta was around 9 hours. He was beat when he pulled up to the Barns. He wanted nothing more than to collapse into a bed with Ronan's arm slung around his waist, warm and happy and safe for a moment. He put the Hondayota in park and sat at the wheel for a minute, sucking in shallow breaths and worrying. Please he thought, please don't mess this up. He heard Ronan before he saw him.

"Parrish are you gonna sit in there forever?"

His hair was longer: falling in soft curls tucked behind his ears. Instead of his usual muscle shirt and jeans he was in a plaid flannel with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and tan shorts. Adam grinned like an idiot and got out of the car.

He didn't realize he was running to hug him until he was in Ronan's arms. Ronan held him tightly and didn't let go for a long while.

"I missed you," he said again.

"I missed you too."

"Do I really get you for two whole months?"

"You really want me for two months Lynch?"

"If I could I'd have you all the time Parrish. Come in. I'll get your bags."

Adam stepped inside hesitantly. It smelled like cinnamon and old wood. There was coffee in a pot on the counter and Adam walked over to pour himself a mug.

"Where's Opal?" Adam asked, taking another sip.

"She's with the psychics. They're good babysitters."

"You got a sitter?"

"You're here Parrish. Of course I got a  sitter."

Adam felt all tingly and energized despite his exhaustion.

"We could watch a movie or something, if you're too tired to..."

"I'm not too tired," Adam said even though he knew it wasn't true.

"Are you sure Parrish because we have plenty of time to do whatever we want."

"I'm not too tired," he repeated, but by the time Ronan was kissing him and pulling his shirt over his head he could barely keep his eyes open.

"It's alright Parrish," Ronan muttered, laying down beside him. Adam rolled over and tucked his chin into the crook of Ronan's neck.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry."

2.

A week later it stormed: one of those loud, overbearing, startling storms that happened when the clouds had been getting heavier all week, threat increasing day by day. Opal, apparently, was in love with thunder and it lulled her to sleep better than anything.

Adam, however, hadn't liked storms for a long time. In fact they scared him to death, a detail he didn't want Ronan to know about. So he panicked.

"You okay in there?" Adam was hiding in the bathroom, pressed up against the door, his feet bare on the tile, shaking uncontrollably. He tried to steady his breathing but everything felt too fast and too blurry.

"Parrish, say something or I'm going to assume the worst and bust in there."

"I'm okay," he managed, but his voice cracked unconvincingly.

"You don't sound okay fucker. Open up."

When Adam didn't Ronan started banging on the door. "Parrish you're scaring me. Open the damn door."

He opened the door. Ronan was red in the face with an angry expression that melted as soon as he saw how badly Adam was shaking.

"What happened?" He asked gently. Adam wasn't sure he could be gentle for anyone else. Maybe Opal or Chainsaw but no one else.

"I'm fine," he said, avoiding his eyes. "Just give me a minute and I'll..." There was a thunderclap and Adam nearly jumped out of his skin.

"The storm?"

He nodded. "When I was uh...11 my dad locked me out during a storm and I uh...kept beating on the door but he wouldn't let me in and I kind of go back there every time it storms. I'm sorry. It's a stupid thing to be so petrified about."

"It's not stupid. And don't be sorry Parrish. You never need to be sorry about that." Ronan reached out a cautious hand and touched his shoulder when he gave him a brief nod of approval. Soon he was pulling him in for a hug and stroking his hair and telling him it was going to be okay. "We'll get you earplugs alright? And next time you won't hide from me. I hate it when you hide Parrish. I hate it when I can't help you."

Adam sucked in a shaky breath and nodded.

3.

Ronan was up and out weeding in one of his fields before Adam was even awake. Opal, accustomed to her guardian's early hours, was out helping, and the two of them were an odd sight when Adam ventured outdoors. He was still messy haired and in pajamas (a t-shirt of Ronan's and some striped shorts) and couldn't help but yawn in the dark of early morning. The sun wasn't even up.

"Need any more help Lynch?" He called. Ronan's head popped up from the patch of carrots and discarded weeds he'd been piling in a bucket and he smirked at him.

"You should still be in bed Parrish. You don't get to work on your vacation."

"No work! No work! Right Kerah?" Opal finished her little chant, running circles around the dreamer, before looking up at him for approval.

"That's right. No work for Adam, brat. You still have to help me." He tousled her hair affectionately, displacing her cap and then putting it back on her head.

"Let me make breakfast at least," Adam called back.

Ronan's grin was wicked. "No need Parrish. We have a special guest chef this morning."

Adam hadn't expected to see him. He thought, as was carefully told to him by everyone else, that he was spending the summer on campus at Oxford. And it had been a long time, that's what Adam would say if anyone asked about his admittedly over-emotional reaction. Well maybe it wasn't over-emotional for regular people but it certainly was for him.

Richard Gansey III was at the door with several bags of groceries. When Adam opened said door and saw him with his smudgy glasses and overgrown hair and hideously yellow polo he actually started crying. Gansey, understandably confused, hastily dropped the bags and tensed up in panic.

"Adam, what's wrong? Did I do something wrong?" He looked like he was about to retreat for a moment. It was the same look he got sometimes when they used to fight, usually about money or something else they could never see eye to eye on. When the fights got bad Gansey defaulted to panicked apology: I'm sorry Adam I just don't understand and obviously it isn't my place to... It was another reminder that they weren't the same. They'd never be the same.

Adam hated Gansey's panic this time so he blinked hard and wiped a hand over his eyes quickly.

"I'm happy you big dummy. I'm really happy and surprised that you're here."

A dopey smile cut through the anxiety written on his face. "You're happy?" He repeated like a prayer. "I'm happy to see you too Adam. Can I come in?"

Inside, Gansey quickly busied himself with waffle preparation. Adam poured them both coffee and interrogated him.

"When did you get back to Henrietta?"

"About a week ago."

"I thought you were staying at Oxford."

He turned from his bowl of batter to look at him. "Ronan suggested we surprise you."

"Ronan did?"

"Well, Blue also contributed."

"Is she actually in Costa Rica or are everyone's summer plans false?"

He laughed and mixed some mini chocolate chips into the batter. "She's really in Costa Rica. We've been messaging but her wifi isn't quite up to par. I've gathered that she's having fun, and learning a lot about the ecology of the region."

"And Henry?"

"He's staying at Monmouth with me, keeping me from keeping myself up at night."

Adam was glad, for a moment, that maybe the general sleeplessness of their posse was beginning to recede.

"How was Oxford?"

At this he turned around to face him again. There was some flour on his polo and his eyes looked wild behind his frames. "Adam, it has been excellent. There's so much history on the campus and in the country. The libraries are massive. I've joined a group of junior archivists who work with some of the oldest texts in the institution. It's incredible. And I've joined the caving club as well though they haven't had many events yet." He laughed again and Adam couldn't keep the smile that was tugging at his lips hidden. "Jane's mocked me for it but I've taken up rowing again. I'm not all that good but some of the seniors say they're priming me for the captain position."

"Are they now?" Gansey was good at anything he put his mind to, even if he didn't realize it. And naturally he came out as the unofficial leader in many situations.

"I want to hear about you though, Adam." He was spreading batter into Ronan's dubious waffle maker (Dubious because it was clearly a dream object, all waffles came out in different shapes. The last several in Gansey's stack were in strange spirals and the next one came out in the outline of a raven.)

"Well..." Adam had a condensed spiel to present to anyone who asked but he figured Gansey wanted, and deserved more than that. "I'm taking some social work and political theory classes, as well as writing," he looked down at his hands. Gansey didn't know he wrote and he suddenly felt self-conscious about it. It was just something he'd started dabbling in, a way to get his feelings out. His professors thought he was quite good.

"I've been interning for a non-profit that helps victims of domestic violence find legal help. It's actually really great working there. I don't feel like I have to hide anything about myself. And I can help people, which I've discovered is really what I want to be doing." It was frankly, a huge revelation summed up in a few words but it didn't feel wrong to say. And that was kind of liberating.

"I have another internship lined up for later in the summer doing some more work for them, this time in their main offices. They...well I guess they really like me there. And I've made the dean's list."

"That's phenomenal Adam."

He shrugged, flushing slightly.

"And you're happy?" Gansey asked gently. Of course, where others wanted to know his accomplishments Gansey wanted to know how he felt.

"I'm getting there yeah." Gansey cocked his head to one side in confusion so Adam continued. "It's still hard to let myself be happy. I'm trying to be more honest about that because I know I don't talk like this a lot. But when I'm home, when I'm at the Barns with Ronan I'm really happy."

"Can I tell you I'm proud of you? Is that allowed?"

Adam smirked. "I'll allow it."

"You know sometimes when I really miss Blue, or Ronan or you I go to the gym and use the rowing machine until I can't feel my arms." He ran a hand through his hair nervously. "That sounds kind of dumb I guess. Other people work out to stay in shape or what not but there I am, just working out excess emotion."

"It isn't dumb."

"Thank you Adam."

The door that led into the yard creaked open and the two of them looked over at a very sweaty Ronan Lynch and a dirt covered Opal. "Do you have a waffle for me Dick?" He growled, eyes sharp but happy.

"You both have to wash your hands first."

"Oh fuck off, Dad."

When Gansey left Adam let him hug him. He hugged too tightly, squeezing like it was the last time they'd see each other though it certainly wasn't.

"He said the surprise was your idea," Adam said, once he'd gone.

"I have ideas from time to time." Ronan was finishing the dishes. He hadn't let Adam help.

"It was a good idea."

"I'm glad you think so Parrish." Ronan dried a glass and put it in a cabinet. Before Adam could say anything else Opal was barreling toward him with something in her hands.

"Adam, look what I found!" She held up a plastic snow globe that tilted with multicolored glitter. When she put it in his hands he felt the rush of familiarity like a punch in the stomach.

"This is..."

"I told you not to mess with dream things. You don't know what's in that shit. It could be dangerous." When Adam looked up at him Ronan's posture was tense.

"But I am a dream thing Kerah."

"Why don't you go check on the chickens."

"Okay!" Opal said with a toothy smile. She skipped past Adam, hooves clicking, leaving the snow globe behind.

"You dreamt this?" Adam asked. Ronan wasn't looking at him.

"It's not like I fucking meant to. I dreamt a kid with hooves and a little brother and a fucking magical forest. I don't have complete control. Hand it over."

Adam complied and Ronan walked over to a cabinet he hadn't seen him open. He yanked the door open and the shelves were filled with glittering snow globes. There were maybe 30 of them in various shapes, sizes, and varieties of glitter. Adam thought about his writing and Gansey and his rowing machine. When Ronan felt too much he did something self-destructive...or he dreamt.

"I miss him too," Adam said at last. He knew it wasn't the same. He was never as close to Noah as Ronan was.

"I don't mean to dream up all this shit. It just happens." He shoved the new globe in with the others. "And I can't just throw them out."

"I know."

Ronan's whole body was still tense and his bottom lip was quivering but he pretended not to notice. "We didn't even get all of him that's the really fucked up part. We just got the Noah who had everything taken from him by some piece of shit who was supposed to be his friend."

"Ronan..."

"And it was enough. Of course it was enough I just...I wish he'd said goodbye."

Adam was up out of his seat and crossing the kitchen to get in his space. He took one of the snow globes off of the shelf carefully and took one of Ronan's wrists. He put Ronan's hand over his own and nodded for him to follow suit with the other hand. The two of them cradled the dream object together. Adam leaned closer and rested his forehead on Ronan's. The kitchen was still, apart from the dripping of the faucet.

"I'm sorry I'm still such a mess."

"You aren't the only mess Lynch."

He choked out a laugh. "You were supposed to lie and tell me I'm not a mess."

"I don't lie."

"I know you don't."

+1.

It was blazing hot the day that Adam left. The Hondayota's seats would've burned him if Ronan hadn't dreamt up cooling seat covers. He'd given him a cooler full of food for the trip and a mix of shitty EDM that Adam was going to listen to anyway.

"I'll be back for fall break. And again for Thanksgiving."

"We'll be here."

"I'll call you when I get back."

"I'll turn that godforsaken phone on for you then."

"I love you." Adam didn't say it often but he felt it.

"I love you too Parrish."

"Thanks for having me."

"Thanks for coming home asshole. I'll miss you."

Adam kissed him. Ronan had let him take one of the snow globes back to New York. He knew that as soon as he got in the car everything was going to hit him in waves. He knew his chest would feel cracked open and he'd have to grip the steering wheel until his knuckles went white to keep from turning around.

"Kick some preppy snob's ass for me alright? Academically if not physically."

"I can do that," he replied, smiling slightly.

"Bye Adam."

"Bye Ronan."

[ridleymocki]

Chapter 2!! (Just Take a Hold of the Hand That Breaks the Fall)

Done for Pynch Week 17, Day 5:  Northern Lights // Dreamscape // Stars

Because I originally wanted to do a painting for the 'northern lights' prompt but I ran out of time to finish it up how I wanted, and the next part of this fic fit coincidentally well for the prompt. So here, have 3.5k of pynch hanging out in a dream.

This fic will be updated and continued as soon as I actually write the thing. I'm still super hyped for the plot I've got worked out so that will be soon, promise.

Thank you so SO much for reading, and I hope you enjoy it.

This is the second chapter of  Just Take a Hold of the Hand That Breaks the Fall

also on ao3

As long as Ronan could remember, there’d been the forest. When he was small his mother would praise him for having a nap in the afternoon and Ronan would insist that he’d done no such thing, that he’d gone exploring and look, look at the leaves. All he got were patient smiles and he didn’t understand until he was older that not everyone went somewhere else when they dreamed. Cabeswater, as the forest called itself, hadn’t made him feel Other; it had made him feel safe.

 After his father died and he’d figured out that he was different – after he had the Institute to give him the specifics of how he was different – Ronan had wondered if his parents knew the whole time, and what kind of thought process lead a parent to not telling their kid that they had powers. That not everyone could pull things out of dreams.

Then he’d found out his father had had the same power, and hadn’t helped him, hadn’t guided him. In some moments he’d be shaking with rage and hurt at his father for that and, not wanting to be angry at his father – because Ronan loved him and could never tell him that ever again – it had just left him angry at himself. Another box ticked on a list of how to effectively perform self-loathing.

 There was a new nightmare that came into being from that anger. The forest had hated doing that to him, bringing the creature to life to hurt him. It had hated watching as the nightmare scratched at Ronan’s arms, shrieked its abuse. It was pained to let him go back to the world alone and cold and bloody. But on some level it was what Ronan had asked for, and the forest couldn’t refuse him.

 It loved him; it could not refuse him.

 There was a frightful amount of potential in being able to dream an object, pull it into the world and have it work as you meant it to, every time. There was obligation and responsibility there that Ronan wanted nothing to do with. He wondered if his ancestors, other dreamers along his bloodline, had been afforded a small mercy when they had to keep their power hidden. How beneficial it was to present yourself as unremarkable, so no one thought you were something to be used.

 His father had been a black market trader, a businessman whose business got him killed. But Ronan lived in a world of heroes, of civic duty and the global community, of living for others’ needs.

 Ronan had never saved a life, and he’d always said he never wanted to. Doing things like that made you public property, and Ronan could only ever be his own master.

 But, now, as he watched Adam’s body lie still and ghostly, and his nose crinkled at the smell of the bleach they used to keep the infirmary’s linoleum floor clean, Ronan wondered if he hadn’t done it already, by accident.

 What if, the night of the factory, Adam wasn’t meant to make it out alive?

 Ronan touched the flower Persephone had left, brushing a finger over its browning petals. The corner of his mouth quirked up at Noah’s card; he’d drawn Adam in pencil with a crown of flowers in his hair and covered the whole thing in glitter. The inside said I know you’re not dead, so there’s really no excuse for being this dramatic. Wake up soon. <3. Adam’s eyelids didn’t flutter at all, and his chest rose steady and even like it wasn’t him doing it. Ronan could see the blue of his veins sprawl over his wrists, stretch over the inside of his elbow.

 What if Adam was supposed to die and Ronan had saved him? Just because, for a split second, he’d thought No, and the forest had listened.

 Ronan rubbed a hand down his face. “I swear to god if you hit me when I get in there, I’m not helping you with Latin for a month.” He’d be within his rights, though.

 Persephone had told him that Adam was still whole, but the body lying in front of him was unrecognisable. Noah had said that Adam wasn’t dead, but he may as well have been, for all that this body’s cheeks were hollow and his muscles slack. No one ever really understands, until you see it for yourself, how much a dead body doesn’t look like the person that once lived.

 He pushed a frustrated breath out of his nose. “Don’t be mad,” he said to Adam, and stepped over to the vacant hospital bed next to Adam’s. He lay down, for once not quieting his mind with over-loud music; something about how long he’s delayed this made him think he didn’t deserve the comfort.

 Ronan traced the shape of the ceiling with his eyes, the hazy shadows left by an unenthusiastic grey light coming through the windows. He turned his head and traced the shape of Adam’s nose, the dip before his top lip, and wondered if Adam had come to the same conclusion; that him winding up in Cabeswater had been a last ditch effort to preserve his life.  It’s more like a beginning, Maura had said. But if the beginning was meant to have started with Adam dying, Ronan hated to think about the middle or the end.

 Despite being by his side, despite having all of Adam within his reach, Ronan went to sleep afraid.

 ……………………………………..

  “I was beginning to think you forgot the way,” Adam said when Ronan came to. This time, Ronan was already leaning against a tree, and had to peek through the low hanging branches to see Adam where he stood in a little clearing. It was still night. Or, it was night again. He wasn’t sure.

 “What?” He ducked under the branches and stepped closer. Adam still looked a little unreal, but there was a frown between his brows now that had been absent the last time.

 “Nothing.” It was said low and frustrated. Adam ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “That insomnia still getting to you, Lynch?”

 Ronan’s mouth twisted with regret. He should’ve come sooner. “Not exactly. Look, I didn’t mean to leave you in the lurch–“

 “Whatever. It’s just. It’s been night time all the time, here, okay? And I don’t even know how long I’ve been here, and for some reason the one person who can contact me hasn’t been doing that so, what, were you busy?” He raised his brows at Ronan, looking like he was torn between genuinely wanting Ronan to give him a good excuse, and wanting to see him admit that he’d just selfishly chosen not to come.

 Ronan wasn’t a liar. “No. I was just being an idiot,” he said quietly, and shoved his hands into his pockets. The breeze picked up, uncomfortably cold, and Ronan knew it was because the forest was reacting to his distress. His completely ridiculous distress, because shit, he was never like this. He cleared his throat. “You’ve been here five days. I was passed out for three, and it’s been two since then.”

 Adam’s frown grew deeper and he looked away. “Feels longer.” Ronan wondered if maybe time worked differently in the forest; maybe one of his days was several for Adam. He didn’t want to believe it. Adam curled his arms around himself, one hand resting around his neck, and Ronan watched as Adam’s thumb pressed behind his ear. With a sniff he seemed to gather himself, “Make the sun come up?”

 Ronan hadn’t even considered that possibility yet. That, just as he could dream things up to take back to the world, he might be able to dream things to be better for Adam. But he hadn’t even begun to ask the forest to raise the sun when, immediately, it was doing so. The sky lightened enough that the shadows stopped being contrasted with silver-white moonlight and became instead the eerie blue of the early morning. It showed up the circles under Adam’s eyes, made him look vaguely skeletal and Ronan wondered if it did the same for himself. After a minute, a burnt orange light pierced through the trees and landed right across Adam’s cheek, as though he’d been splashed with the brightest paint. The change was so stark that Ronan realised he’d been staring without wavering all that time, and he abruptly moved his gaze onto the horizon, instead. He didn’t think about why Adam had been looking back.

 That was when he remembered the quickness of the forest to respond to the wish, and realised it hadn’t been his own, not really. “I didn’t do that,” he said wonderingly.

 “What do you mean?” Adam frowned. “You had to.”

 “Well I didn’t. I didn’t think it, I just heard you say it. It listened to you.”

 “But, it didn’t when you weren’t here. I asked it to do stuff when you were gone and it didn’t.” Adam seemed to consider it for a moment, eyes growing distant the way that was usual when he was working on a hard math problem or trying to translate a passage. “Maybe it’s only if we’re both here.”

 Yes. The forest whispered in Ronan’s ear. Magic maker. Magic wielder.

 “Well,” he groused, “that’s just great.” He realised too late that Adam hadn’t heard the Latin words, and might think Ronan was grumbling about him. But when he looked Adam was fighting a smile, eyes bright. Ronan rolled his eyes at him and the smile won.

 “Sorry,” Adam said, sun glancing off his teeth, before he sobered some. “And sorry about before, I just– I guess some worries came back to me, since I saw you. Or I got new ones, I guess. Point is, you shouldn’t have to pop in just to keep me happy.”

 Before he tangled himself in an argument about his willingness on that subject, Ronan snorted garishly and smirked at him, instead. “Stop. Hate to break it to you, Parrish, but I’m usually more of an asshole than you and that’s not changing now.”

 Gratifyingly, Adam actually laughed. “Jesus, is that your version of an apology?” Ronan raised a brow at him. “Oh don’t worry, I’ll take it. It’s just, if you ever want to workshop that you let me know.”

 “Fucking Orla and her fucking workshops,” he groused, scowling even through the second round of Adam���s easy laughter.

 “Come on,” Adam said after a moment, and walked past him to duck through the trees.

 They walked silently through the vegetation and the streams of light, stepping over fallen branches, circling around the occasional anthill or spider web. Adam wore an expression like he was very quietly pleased by everything in this place. Like he was pleased to see every leaf, every dust mote in the air. Or maybe he was just amused at the fact that even a magical dream forest had gross bits and disarray. It was Ronan’s dream place, though, he should’ve expected a little disorder.

 “I gotta ask,” Ronan said when he was sure he’d lost track of how far they’d gone, “you found a pair of jeans all the way out here but you couldn’t manage a shirt?”

 Adam, ahead of him by a few steps, threw a grin over his shoulder. “I woke up in this. Is it distracting you, Lynch?”

 “Aren’t you cold?” he asked, ignoring that entirely.

 Adam shrugged. “I don’t really get cold here, or warm, it’s actually kind of difficult for me to feel anything properly. Which is irritating”

 Alarmed, Ronan stopped and pulled at Adam’s elbow to get him to turn. “What do you mean? Are you– what does that mean?”

 “Don’t freak out,” Adam rolled his eyes, “I can still feel, I just… It’s like when you’re really tired and you’re just so in your own head that, I don’t know, real stuff doesn’t feel real. I know that it’s cold, I just don’t feel cold.” He pulled away and continued walking. “I’m fine.”

 “That’s not reassuring,” Ronan called out after him, and followed. It sounded awful, actually. Ronan knew that part of Adam’s training at the Institute was in grounding himself, using mindfulness techniques to make himself feel like he was actually in the world instead of letting him dissociate away into his own head. Adam could scry like the witches could, but too much time spent in such a cerebral state made him slip into it again a little too easily, and that’s when his magic would take over. So he used sensations, the more stark the better, to reattach himself to reality. Rough fabrics helped, like the itchy wool of their uniform sweater. A scrap of coarse sandpaper in Adam’s pocket. The nib of a pen pressing harder and harder into the pad of a finger.

 When he was in the mood to be a little shit, Adam would reach up and scrub his hand over Ronan’s buzzed hair, feeling the prickle of it. When Ronan swatted him away with a grumble, he’d laugh and say “Shh, I need it, help a guy out,” and go to do it again.

 Ronan didn’t understand how Adam could be so calm here, if his sensations were really that dulled. Or maybe not dulled, just intellectual as opposed to subjective. Wasn’t he drifting away, here?

 It didn’t sit right with him and so Ronan asked, in his mind, screamed it into his thoughts: Make him feel.

 The breeze picked up for a moment and stirred the leaves, hard. In front of him, Adam abruptly stopped, his back rigid. Ronan was seized with the sudden worry that maybe he’d overstepped. Adam never took kindly to anyone messing with his head, and maybe this qualified as messing. After a moment, however, Adam turned and looked back at Ronan with wide eyes.

 Ronan quirked a brow. “Better?”

 Adam stared at him for a moment, then swallowed, and nodded. They continued on without a word, as Ronan tried to parse the significance of that stare. He thought, tentatively, that it was similar to what happened so often at the Institute, when one person realised with full forces the nature of another’s power. It was a moment of wonder. Ronan tried not to let it get to his head.

 Eventually, they came to a clearing with a small rise in the middle, not quite a hill, but enough to stretch one’s legs on the way up. Ronan had fallen a little behind, as Adam pushed on, wary of not making his company overbearing or unpleasant, given it was all Adam had to choose from. When he broke through the trees Adam was already standing at the top of the rise, the sky around him blushing pink in the emergent morning, the breeze ruffling the tall grass around his legs and the hair on his head. His eyes watched Ronan approach.

 No manicured gardens at the Institute, or wide flat plains in Virginia could rival the wildness and beauty of Adam in that moment.

 “You don’t know how to get me out of here, do you?” Adam said suddenly, and Ronan nearly tripped on his way up the rise.

 He paused in his movement instead, grimaced, and continued on slower than before. “No. The witches aren’t even sure how this happened. Their scrying is being blocked.”

 “What?” Adam’s eyes widened and he stared as Ronan came to stand in front of him. “That’s not good.”

 Ronan snorted. “Yeah, no shit.”

 “No, Ronan,” he said, voice low and careful, “the Deans are some of the most powerful time seers in history. Their power is like mine, it’s old school. Blocking them is like… it should be impossible. What the hell kind of thing could do that?” Adam’s eyes darted around, like he was searching the space around them for answers.

 “My money’s on the freaky bug people,” Ronan said, but absently, he was too concerned with the way Adam looked so unsure, now. “Look,” he said, “whatever is going on back on Earth, you’re safe here, okay? I know that inside my head probably isn’t the healthiest place to be, but at least if you’re here, nothing can get to you.”

 “Yeah. Unless it gets to you, first,” Adam said, cutting. He wasn’t wrong. Ronan knew from experience what happened to dream things when the dreamer was gone, the vacancy and impoverishment of life. When his father died it was like someone had pulled the plug out of the wall on everything he’d ever created. The animals and Ronan’s mother alike fell under some sick Sleeping Beauty spell. He didn’t want to think about what destruction would happen in this dream place if he wasn’t here to dream it.

 Shit. He was going to have to be careful, now. He was going to have to give half a damn about whether or not something took him out. For Adam’s sake.

 This is exactly the kind of responsibility he never wanted.

 Adam’s expression turned furtive, and he glanced at Ronan from the corner of his eye before looking away. “Be careful, Ronan,” he said quietly, then folded himself down on the ground, legs crossed and spine lax. It wasn’t said selfishly, wasn’t a take care of me or else; it was worried, like Adam thought he’d put a target on Ronan’s back and was shamed by it.

 Ronan collapsed beside him, legs thrown out across the grass, flattening it without care and leaning back on his elbows. “So no more drag racing, then?” he grinned.

 Adam sent him a stunningly flat look. “I’m serious.”

 “Oh, right,” he nodded. “Of course. So like, I should watch my cholesterol, too? Maybe eat a vegetable?” Adam’s face only grew more unimpressed. “I guess base jumping is out of the question.”

 “Ugh!” Adam finally broke, and pushed at Ronan’s shoulder so hard he tipped sideways and fell onto the grass, chuckling without apology. “You’re an asshole,” Adam groused.

 “I have an established brand, okay, you gotta be consistent.” Ronan sprawled out in the grass, the line between forced and genuine humour blurring as he smiled over at Adam’s irritated frown. From the outside, one might have said that he’d actually made Adam angry. But being annoyed at Ronan was one of Adam Parrish’s favourite past times and Ronan didn’t see why he should be deprived, now.

 “That’s the most Gansey thing you’ve ever said.” At least Adam was starting to smile.

 “Hey now, the poor guy’s doing some ‘beautiful mind’ shit to try and figure out how to get you back, don’t point out his flaws.” Adam looked a little surprised at that, but quickly recovered to smile, open and languid.

 “Nerd,” he said, and for some reason the tone was so perfect, so spot on to how he’d been countless times before in their classes together and when they hung out at lunch, that Ronan let out a helpless cry of laughter.

 Adam smiled at him, pleased, and reclined back to lie beside Ronan in the grass. It was well into morning now, though the colours were still pale instead of the vivid hues of midday. If he ignored their surroundings and focused on the sky, Ronan could imagine that it was any one of the mornings at the Institute before class, that he could turn his head and Adam would be in his uniform, disciplined and ordered instead of wild and bright.

 “This is what we’re like in the real world.” Adam turned to him with a confused look and Ronan gestured to the way their bodies were arranged, side by side. “I’m asleep in the bed next to you, back in the medical wing.”

 Adam seemed particularly interested by that. But he asked instead, “Is it weird for you? Coming here and seeing me?”

 Ronan played with the leather bands around his wrist, where his hands lay above his head. “Probably should be. But you kind of fit in, here. I’ve spoken to people in here before but they’ve always been people I dreamed up, even if they were based on someone real. You, though, it’s like…” as he tried to gather his words, Adam turned fully on his side to await them, and Ronan felt his ears go a little warm at the attention. They were uncommonly close, enough to see the pale freckles on Adam’s bare shoulder. “You feel like the forest. I didn’t put you here on purpose. You’re just here.”

 Adam nodded, seeming satisfied, but he didn’t roll away, just took some deep breaths like the breeze was clarifying for him.

 They lay there for a long time, Ronan couldn’t say exactly, but the sun had passed the midpoint in the sky when he felt himself start to drift away. They talked intermittently, teased in turns, but the air had grown warmer with the sun and made the muted colours around them even hazier, so they mostly just lounged. Ronan was usually calmer in his dreams, his lounging in the real world always cut with an undercurrent of cynicism or irritation. But he didn’t usually have company, and he found himself trying to hold onto his calm for longer so that Adam would be content to lie beside him just a little longer, too. When he started to grow hazy, eyelids growing heavy, he felt a little mournful.

 “I’ll be back soon,” he said, strong and sure, wanting to impress it upon Adam that he regretted wasting his time, before.

 “You don’t have to,” Adam said easily, concedingly.

 “I’ll want to,” Ronan replied with certainty. For a second he saw Adam’s returning smile, bright and clear, and then he was gone.

[adamprrishcycle]

Please enjoy a “deleted scene” from the soulmate au that I’ll never finish (I dedicate this to everyone who was nice to me when I was writing it and when I decided I wasn’t anymore)

It had been a week since Adam had seen Ronan. He’d glimpsed him around school a few times, but Gansey informed him in a very concerned and quiet voice that Ronan was currently missing a great deal of classes. He didn’t mention that after they had dropped him off on Saturday he’d gone on a three day bender, but he didn’t need to. When Adam saw Ronan in the corridor on Thursday, Ronan looked sullen and irritable. His eyes were red and his skin had a gray-ish tinge.

It wasn’t hard to guess that he’d been spending his time with Joseph Kavinsky and his pack of dogs. Kavinsky didn’t have friends, he owned friends and everyone knew he was trying to rope Ronan in, but Ronan was too smart, or perhaps just too stubborn to let that happen.

Adam was already feeling uncomfortable. Being inside the converted factory building where Gansey, Ronan and Noah lived made Adam feel inadequate. These boys he had befriended were the kind of stupid rich that usually made Adam sick, and it did, though not like the other rich bastards at Aglionby.

Gansey had invited him over because they were throwing a surprise party for Noah’s birthday. At the first mention of a party, Adam had refused to go, but Gansey was quick to assure him that he used the word “party” very lightly.

“It’s not really a party per say,” he had explained. “It’s more like hanging out with beer and balloons.”

Adam had agreed on Wednesday, was feeling apprehensive on Thursday, nearly told Gansey he had too much homework and couldn’t come on Friday, then Saturday afternoon had rolled around and here he was, sat on Gansey’s leather couch while Gansey chatted away about Noah’s previous birthdays while they waited for Ronan to arrive with “the stuff”.

Adam tried not to touch his face. His cheek had scabbed over and was slowly healing but his black eye was still prominent and he felt self-conscious.

Gansey stopped talking and got to his feet as they heard the sound of keys fumbling in the lock. Then there was a noise that sounded like said keys dropping to the floor, then a muffled, “fuck”, then a thump.

Gansey opened the door to find Ronan with his arms full. He had a box of beer under one arm and a large paper bag under the other that was filled with what looked like party decorations.

“Take your time,” he said sarcastically as he struggled into the room and shoved the bag into Gansey’s arms. “The cake’s in the car, I couldn’t carry it with all this.”

“Did you get candles?” Gansey asked as he began emptying the bag onto the pool table that took up a corner of the room. There were balloons and streamers as well as what seemed like an excessive amount of sparkly confetti.

“Yeah,” Ronan said and he disappeared into the strange room that was both the kitchen and the bathroom.

“Can you blow balloons?” Gansey asked, snapping Adam’s attention back from the kitchen doorway. He nodded and approached the pool table to help.

“Hey, Parrish” Ronan said as he came back into the room. He held up his car keys, then threw them in Adam’s direction. He was relieved he had seen them coming and snatched them easily from the air.

Ronan smirked. “Go get the cake.”

There was something strangely complimentary about Ronan trusting him with his car keys but Adam tried not to think about it as he slid the key ring onto his finger and headed downstairs.

He ran a hand appreciatively over the side of the BMW and, palms sweating, climbed in the driver’s side. He put his hands on the steering wheel and marvelled at the cars interior for a full minute, noticing things he hadn’t when Ronan had given him a ride to school the previous week. He never let himself appreciate things so obviously usually, this felt good.

He finally rubbed his hands on his faded jeans and grabbed the cake box from the passenger seat before climbing out.

When he got back upstairs, Ronan was standing bare foot in the middle of the room, admiring a banner he’d just hung across the wall. He had a smile on his face. It was a small smile that wasn’t for anyone but himself and his thoughts and Adam paused for a moment. He’d never seen Ronan look anything but harsh.

He turned suddenly and crossed the room to take the box from Adam’s hands. His soft smirk became sharper and Adam’s stomach gave an uncomfortable jolt.

“Thanks,” he said and he took the keys back as well, sliding the key ring onto his finger in the same way Adam had done.

Adam smiled back sarcastically and waited for Ronan to look away first. He always did.

By the time Noah got there, Monmouth was covered from head to toe in streamers and brightly colored balloons. Gansey had put a CD in the stereo and it was playing catchy pop music. Ronan was on his third beer, Adam was on tap water.

He didn’t think he’d seen anyone look as excited as Noah did when he entered the room and he didn’t think he’d seen anyone look as shocked as Gansey and Ronan did when Noah wasn’t alone.

Blue, the waitress entered the room with a scowl on her face. She was wearing an oversized t-shirt as a dress which probably would have looked raggedy on anyone else, but she seemed to pull it off perfectly. Her wild, short hair was let loose around her face and it seemed to make her brown eyes look bigger and brighter. Another girl followed her inside. She was tall with long, dark legs that Adam was convinced were the reason for the saying “legs for days”. She was also wearing a dress. It was bright orange like Gansey’s Camaro, form fitting and low-cut.

“So this is how Raven Boys party,” the girl said with a smirk, obviously enjoying all the eyes on her.

“Happy birthday, Noah,” Gansey said, snapping his attention away from the other girl. “And Blue, hi.“ He smiled at her, then turned back to the other girl. “I’m sorry, I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m-”

“I’m Orla. Blue’s cousin,” the girl said and she held Gansey’s gaze for second before smiling at Ronan. Ronan did not smile back.

“Nice to meet you,” Gansey said and he stepped forwards to shake her hand but she pulled him into a hug, running her fingers down his back. Adam saw Blue roll her eyes. She saw him looking and raised an eyebrow as if to say, “take a picture, it’ll last longer.” Adam didn’t know if anyone actually said that, but if they did, Blue would be the kind of person who would say it.

He turned away and looked over at Ronan to find that Ronan was a lot closer than he had been before.

“Noah,” Gansey said as he was released from Orla’s embrace. “Can I talk to you a minute.”

Noah followed him into the kitchen, batting balloons as he walked past them.

“So, introductions,” Orla said and she sat down on the couch, crossing her legs, letting her dress hitch up her thigh. It was probably deliberate. Adam didn’t really mind.

For most of his life he hadn’t been interested in anyone and hadn’t thought about first kisses or who he wanted to touch or how he wanted to touch them, but recently he’d allowed himself to consider it. He found beauty in almost everyone. Orla was stunning and Blue was beautiful in a way that made you blink a few times to make sure you weren’t simply seeing things. Gansey was handsome in his Aglionby uniform and equally as attractive in an old t-shirt and his wireframes. Noah was cute, until you saw him playing competitive sports. He turned aggressive and focused and Adam found himself staring. Then there was Ronan in his sexy car with his leather jacket and his leather bracelets that he sometimes brought to his mouth to chew on when he was nervous and thought no one was looking. Ronan with his explosive anger that usually would have made Adam run, but seemed to only draw him closer. Ronan who was an asshole who made Adam angry in return.

“I’m Adam,” he said when Ronan didn’t speak. “And that’s Ronan.”

“Irish name,” Orla said, smiling at Ronan again. “Snap.”

“Please don’t tell me you’re flirting with these people,” Blue said.

Ronan snorted and turned away from the girls as he came to stand beside Adam, their arms touching and spoke in a lowered voice.

“You can have the orange one but the angry waitress is Gansey’s.”

Adam stared at him and he laughed and Gansey and Noah came back into the room, saving Adam from the heat spreading up his neck.

Gansey politely got the girls some drinks and Noah sat talking to them animatedly and Blue cracked a real smile for the first time.

Ronan retired to the corner by the pool table to drink his beer. Adam got bored of Orla talking about herself and dared himself to go and sit with Ronan three times. The fourth time, he did it.

“Still on the water?” Ronan asked as Adam slid down beside him.

“Yeah.”

Ronan held his bottle out to him but he shook his head.

“How many of those have you had?” He asked.

“Don’t Gansey me, Parrish,” Ronan said. Adam looked down at his arm at the soulmate mark that stood out against his skin.

“I want you to apologize,” he blurted out.

“What?” Ronan said and they looked at each other. This time Adam looked away first.

“For the stuff you said the other day,” he said, picking at the edge of a rip in his jeans.

“I don’t lie,” Ronan said and Adam glanced at him, a question in his eyes. “Saying sorry would be a lie and I don’t lie. I’m not sorry.”

Adam swallowed hard and refused to rise to it. “Fine. Neither am I.”

“Didn’t expect you to be.”

“Why weren’t you at school this week?” He was asking the question before he could stop himself. Ronan gave him a grim smile.

“Therapy,” he said simply and swigged his beer. “Hey, you like cars, right?”

Adam was thrown for a second, then nodded.

“Let’s go for a ride,” he said and got to his feet.

“You can’t drive, you’ve been drinking,” Adam said, standing up beside him.

Ronan grinned at him and walked over to the others. “Noah, come on. Birthday treat,” he said and he pulled his keys from his pocket and threw them to Noah.

“Uh, Ronan,” Gansey said, eyes wide in warning.

“We won’t be long,” Ronan said. “I promised him he could drive it. Besides, you’ve got company.”

With a sigh and another warning look when he realized Adam was going as well, Gansey said goodbye to them and they went downstairs.

Noah was a good driver. Good because he pulled off smoothly and never braked too hard or went above the speed limit. Adam wondered what was the point in asking to drive Ronan’s precious car once a year if you were just going to drive it like this. It was too tame. Adam felt an itch in his veins for speed. He wanted to see how fast the BMW could go.

“You’re like a Sunday morning driver,” Ronan said from the passenger seat.

“I thought you’d be happy I wasn’t thrashing your car,” Noah said, sticking his turn signal on and glancing in all three mirror before turning into another road.

Ronan threw his head back and laughed. “What do you know about thrash, Czerny? Go for it, thrash it.“

Noah accelerated hard until he reached the end of the road, then braked suddenly. Adam clutched the back of his headrest as he was thrown forwards.

“You’ve lived a sheltered life, haven’t you?” Ronan said, smiling from ear to ear.

He twisted in his seat suddenly and Adam sat back feeling too close.

“You’re up, Parrish.” He turned back to Noah. “Czerny, out.”

“But it’s my birthday!” Noah protested.

“You threw away your rights as the birthday boy when you brought girls to our place,” Ronan said matter of factly.

“They’re not that bad. Quit acting like you’re allergic to girls all the time,” Noah grumbled but he climbed out of the driver’s seat and Adam warily got into the front. He shifted in the warm patch that Noah had left behind and turned to look at Ronan.

“Let’s see what you’ve got, Parrish,” he said. “Turn me on.”

Adam didn’t give himself time to think. He drove steady enough through town until he reached the highway, then he abandoned all his inhibitions and drove like the horizon and the setting sun were the only limit.

Noah rolled his window down in the backseat and whooped into the warm evening air. Adam only caught quick glimpses of Ronan who was aiming to appear unaffected by the speed, but wore a small smile that gave him away.

When they pulled in at a rest stop, Noah leaned forwards between the seats to relay to Adam everything that had just happened as though he hadn’t been the one making it happen. Ronan told him to go and get something to drink from the shabby store that stood by the side of the road and he went obediently.

Adam watched him walk away, then looked over at Ronan and realized he was having fun. This feeling in his stomach, this endless pull like his muscles were elastic that could stretch for miles, this was what fun felt like.

“My hands are shaking, look,” he said, holding his hands out to Ronan, feeling more comfortable with him than he ever had. Ronan looked at them, then held his own hands out, palms facing downwards. He was shaking as well.

Adam didn’t care that Ronan could see the words on his fingers, he’d seen it before and it didn’t matter.

“I didn’t know other people were allowed to drive your car,” he said, still watching Ronan’s hands that were now balled into fists.

Ronan shrugged. “It’s Noah’s birthday and you drive a damn sight better than him.”

“Do you think Gansey’s having fun with Blue and Orla?” Adam said and he tore his eyes away from Ronan’s hands to run his thumb along the bottom of the steering wheel.

“Blue’s probably eaten him alive, which is kind of romantic, I guess.” He smirked. “She is his soulmate.”

“Blue’s Gansey’s soulmate?” Adam was surprised. Gansey had gone over to talk to Blue specifically for Adam after he’d mentioned that she was attractive. He didn’t tell Adam he’d got his first mark. It probably wasn’t a big deal, but it bothered him nevertheless.

“Yeah,” Ronan said. “At least, that’s the only explanation for the stain on his leg,” he paused. “Why, you jealous?”

“Why, are you?” Adam shot back.

“She’s not really my type.”

“I wasn’t talking about her.”

“Fuck off, Parrish, you sound just like Kavinsky,” Ronan said, eyes glowing. Adam didn’t like the comparison.

“That’s where you were this week,” he said quickly before he missed his chance. He knew he’d ruined the lighthearted atmosphere as soon as the words left his mouth. “You were with Kavinsky,” he prompted seeing as he’d already made his bed.

“It’s not really any of your business where I was,” Ronan said and his smile turned sour.

“I know,” Adam replied, “I just want you to admit it.”

“Why?” Ronan was amused again.

Adam shrugged. To prove to me that you’re not worth any of my time, he thought.

They both jumped when Noah opened the driver’s side door and announced that he would be driving back and Adam didn’t look at Ronan again before climbing into the backseat.

[maya-hawkeye]

first you get hurt, then you feel sorry

fandom: the raven cycle

pairing: ronan lynch/adam parrish, and probably blue sargent/richard campbell gansey iii/henry cheng

sort of trading spaces au wherein ronan is poor and adam is rich (and that’s basically it) and also super depressing

heads up - i wanted to play trading places with Ronan and Adam but still figure out a way for them to retain some of themselves and also become completely out of character - sorry for making Adam suffer even more than he already does (he’s low key suicidal and it isn’t my intention to romanticize this but he never actually is full on suicidal, he’s just a character on the edge out of necessity for a maybe plot)

also, this currently has little to no plot and is merely an exercise in what may become a full fic if i can figure out what situation to put my lovelies in that isn’t just the plot of the books - it’s an au for a reason - and is also basically just random chunks of moments with no set up whatsoever and no timeline

any feedback is greatly appreciated (even in the form of a like, i ain’t picky)

** the two highlighted quotes about the sins of the mother/father are from the merchant of venice (shakespeare) bc i like being that asshole

excerpt: 

It’s not the first time Adam has shown up to one of their research meetings/friendly neighbourhood gatherings at Monmouth with a bruise, however, they’re usually below the collar of his shirt - hidden in plain view. Gansey gapes for a second before composing himself, frowning at Adam though not actually at Adam.

“I tripped.” 

Gansey grits his teeth but says nothing, jerking his head towards the fridge where a bag of ice awaits his cheek.

“Fucking idiot. Walk much, Parrish?” Ronan scoffs and yet Adam is completely aware that Ronan is calling him on his bullshit excuse, his raised eyebrows reading your dad’s a cunt. All the money in the world couldn't buy him better parents, apparently. Unlike the Ganseys, the Parrish money and name were never earned honestly and Adam suffers for his father’s transgressions, his insatiable greed. 

The sins of the father are to be laid upon the children.

They end up, as they usually do on a Friday evening, at Nino’s with a grossly large pizza in front of them. A girl with pins holding her hair up with sheer willpower dropped it off to their table with a look of disgust that could only be attributed to the whole teenage-boy species. Her eyes shift momentarily to Noah, squinting, and then she disappears once again. 

Gansey is blissfully ignorant (by choice of course) of the fact that Noah a) can’t eat pizza, and b) goes largely unseen by the general populous. So, as usual, Adam and Gansey suffer through half the pizza while Noah stares on wistfully. It’s routine, and deathly boring, but Gansey’s research on Glendower has reached a grinding halt in production. They’re saved from boredom by the arrival of Gansey’s new pet project Ronan Lynch, stray if you will, showing up and falling gracelessly into their booth. He grabs a slice of pizza with a grunt of acknowledgement while Gansey grins like an idiot.

“You weren’t at school today.” Adam’s already testing the waters with Ronan just by existing, but if there’s one thing he’s abnormally good at it’s pushing peoples buttons (usually unintentionally).

“Fuck off Parrish, not everyone jerks it to school books like you do.” Adam blushes furiously to his own dismay and promptly kick his heel back at Ronan’s shin. 

The only reason Ronan is even at Aglionby is because of Declan, funding his education out of his hard-earned cash. He’s still at Aglionby, however, because of Gansey. Hand-outs don't seem to bother Ronan the way they probably would bother Adam if their roles were reversed.

“Ronan.” Dad-Gansey bites, the smile wiped off his lips and replaced by a disdainful frown.

“Work was fuckin’ garbage, Dick, so fuck me for not radiating sunshine and rainbows.” He’s covered in grease and still wearing his coveralls, and he too is frowning but without a general target - perhaps the world, if Adam were to guess.

It’s not the first time Adam has shown up to one of their research meetings/friendly neighbourhood gatherings at Monmouth with a bruise, however, they’re usually below the collar of his shirt - hidden in plain view.  Gansey gapes for a second before composing himself, frowning at Adam though not actually at Adam.

“I tripped.” Gansey grits his teeth but says nothing, jerking his head towards the fridge where a bag of ice awaits his cheek.

“Fucking idiot. Walk much, Parrish?” Ronan scoffs and yet Adam is completely aware that Ronan is calling him on his bullshit excuse, his raised eyebrows reading your dad’s a cunt. All the money in the world couldn't buy him better parents, apparently. Unlike the Ganseys, the Parrish money and name were never earned honestly and Adam suffers for his father’s transgressions, his insatiable greed. 

The sins of the father are to be laid upon the children.

He sighs and immediately regrets it, the pain in his ribs flares up angrily, and he walks to the fridge to grab some ice, gritting his teeth. Ronan watches him, his gaze heavy with meaning that Adam doesn’t want to unravel just yet - want, desire, and pure, unadulterated concern. His gaze is combustible, a spark turning to flame.

He doesn’t have the energy to let someone love him, doesn’t have the time to understand why someone could love him. Ronan is an enigma hidden beneath alabaster skin, jet black ink, and engine grease-stained leather.

He studies, handles his fathers books, researches for Gansey, handles his mother, studies, endures his father, and sometimes finds the space to eat and sleep in between. Whoever said the rich had it all surely never intended to include what Adam has. He’s permanently exhausted in a way not unlike Ronan is - insomnia biting at his heels and aching muscles beneath his skin. They would make quite the pair - like a pair of horror movie twins, two sides of the same tarnished coin.

Noah flits into the space next to him, breaking his thoughts, sliding his cold hand over his ribs, a pout evident on his smudged lips.

“I’m okay Noah, really.” His weak response is accepted but not agreed with as usual.

Gansey has long since stopped begging Adam to leave his parents house, already having ditched the need for Adam to move into Monmouth months prior - he suffers a gnawing guilt-complex stoked in his youth when his father told him, convinced him, that he made his mother sick and vacant. Her gaunt figure and glazed over eyes are every bit his responsibility. She hasn’t been the same since he was born and he bears that guilt like a boulder upon his back, ever-growing. Atlas has nothing on Adam Parrish. 

He has shared most of this with Gansey, however, he also stands rooted in place for another reason. His father owns a gun, owns several in fact, and his father doesn’t like to give up his things. Adam will die before he leaves his fathers home.

If anyone had to ask, spared the ear to listen closely, they would hear the aching brag of his heart - beating on relentlessly without purpose. He can’t even argue that his actions are performed out of love anymore. He hasn’t loved his mother since he was five and old enough to understand. His ‘mother’ is an empty, unholy creature chained to the devil. He used to pity her - there isn’t enough of her left to pity. She’s a shell.

He remembers their last fight like he remembers to breathe. Reluctantly. And yet the memory persists. His mother had a bad day, the ratio of bad to ‘good’ days getting further and further apart lately, and he was blamed - he hadn’t been home, either, when his father arrived and that had made him more furious, perhaps, than anything else.

Like clockwork, he apologizes for being alive and endures the hand of his maker and unmaker. Every blow feels like his undoing and yet, and yet, he persists like a weed through pavement - unwanted but needed. 

So the sins of my mother should be visited upon me.

[color-in-your-hands]

okay i don't know if I sent this in but I'm just like. so feeding for the future what do Adam and Ronan do to take care of each other bc ik their coping mechanisms aren't always good but how do they Help Each Other - 🐝🐝🐝

Oh goodness.

There is a decided learning curve to how they manage to make things work in the future.  It’s incredibly difficult, and living apart for so long when Adam is in grad school in California doesn’t help.  Seven years of only seeing each other for a few weeks at a time doesn’t lay as much groundwork for co-habitating as they thought it would, considering how comfortable it always is when Adam comes home from school or when Ronan went to stay with him at his apartment.  It’s a gross miscalculation on their part.They fight, a lot and often and sometimes violently--never with or at each other, mind you, but at things because they both struggle with anger and violent impulses.  There are a lot of slammed doors and punched walls, days and nights spent anywhere but with each other, packed bags that idle in cars for when things finally break for good, shouting matches and silent treatment.There is also a lot of making up and quietly reuniting and lots of apologies and don’t leave like that agains and I missed you, you assholes. There’s waking up and finding the other came back sometime in the middle of the night.  There are times when their friends need to intervene to make them talk to each other.  There’s make-up sex.  They do figure it all out, eventually.  Adam starts DBT.  Ronan, for several years, stops drinking.  They learn how to talk to each other and how to disagree without it turning explosive.  They get used to living together, settle into routines and habits.  They stop being complicated and difficult and start making compromises and things become simple without either of them realizing it.Like I said, they do learn how to take care of each other.  And things get really good between them!  They surprise each other with favorite meals and TV/movie nights and they binge watch shows together.  They get into a fierce and years-long argument over whether or not the Dragon Age or Mass Effect series is a more solid series and it’s only resolved when they play each other’s series and agree that both have their own merits.  They have favorite podcasts they listen to on long car rides.  Ronan gets especially tense when he’s stressed out over things at the Barns; when he was younger, he’d drink himself stupid or get into trouble with his car until he felt better.  Now he goes a few rounds with his punching bag or goads Adam into getting rough with him (wink wink, nudge nudge).  Adam has difficult conferences around the country and demonstrations that don’t pan out and he just needs Ronan to pet his hair and hold him close until he stops beating himself up for not always having things go off without a hitch.  There are, sometimes, I love yous.  It does not mean for them what it means for other people and they both know that.  Adam might not love Ronan the way Ronan loves him, but he always comes back to the Barns.  Without fail.  That alone is more than enough for Ronan.

[arielmagicesi]

Hi, sorry. So I am new to the st/efvater world, and I've only read one of her books (raven boys), and like I see you posting stuff about her a lot, but only like little bits and pieces, and I feel like I'm missing something and don't understand what's going on cause I'm not really in the fandom; I've just read one book, and don't really know anything about her. I'm sorry, this is rambling mess, but if you could enlighten me a little bit I would appreciate it.

OK I took a while to respond and I’m gonna try to be objective and polite but there isn’t a whole lot of objective politeness in this soul of mine, but I will try.

Maggie St/efvater (I only spell it that way so it doesn’t show up in her tag and annoy people, I’ll just call her Maggie for the rest of this post) is this fairly popular YA author, and she wrote the Wolves of Mercy Falls series, the Scorpio Races, and the Raven Cycle. Her writing is very good (I have some bones to pick about it as a writer but mostly it’s pretty good) and the Raven Cycle in particular has gained a big fandom because it’s an excellent series. I guess you would know cause you’ve read TRB- the concept is unique, it has cool magic stuff, there’s fascinating character concepts, and the teenagers do a lot of realistic teenager stuff like being annoying and cursing and either doing their homework or not, etc. And if I haven’t made it abundantly clear with my posts, a lot of us in the fandom fell in love with the main characters for many reasons, but especially because they represent parts of ourselves that aren’t often represented. Abuse victims who don’t react in a Good Abuse Victim way, poor teenagers who scrape and claw to get out of their shitty towns, mentally ill kids who have ugly unpleasant symptoms, girls who are feminists but whose feminism is a little messy because they grow up in a terrible small town, etc.

Unfortunately, the development of the Raven Cycle fandom online, like the development of ANY goddamn fandom on the accursed Internet, led to some gross pockets of fandom. In the second book, an abusive character called Ka/vinsky shows up, and some heavy subtext suggests that he’s gay and into one of the main characters, Ronan. He’s absolutely awful and monstrous to Ronan and the others, but you know how fandom is, they started shipping it and being like “Ka/vinsky’s just a misunderstood cinnamon roll uwu” and generally being the worst about it. Additionally, some parts of fandom started hating on the two lower-class characters, Adam and Blue, for not always being sweet and nice about the class privilege of all their wealthy friends, and for reacting "badly” to literal abuse and sexism.  so the fandom is a mess, yeah

In the second and third books, also, (spoiler alert I guess? I mean if you follow my blog you can’t avoid knowing this haha) it’s suggested and then made all but direct canon, that Ronan is gay and has a crush on Adam. So, like, everyone shipped it because they’re a great ship and it was pretty obvious it was gonna be made canon in book four.

But Maggie interacts a lot with the fandom online, and obviously the clashing of fandom issues like this with any author would lead to some mess, but the way she treated it was....... terrible. She would make jokes about Ronan being Gansey’s “dog” and things like that. She milked the whole “writing a gay character” thing for all it was worth, and would never really say “hey, Adam and Ronan are a romantic thing” but would hint at it constantly, which, if you don’t know, is agonizing to watch when you’re desperate for any representation of your identity. She eventually said “I realize you guys are used to being baited, so don’t worry, the ‘other kiss’ will be between the people you hope it’ll be between” or something like that. And she would talk about Ronan being gay, but never address whether Adam was bi, and god forbid those words were used in the books. In the fourth book, although they do actually kiss and presumably get together, they don’t talk about it, and they never use the words “gay” or “bisexual.” Her excuse was that she’s writing for a world without labels. Leaving aside that that’s bullshit and a straight* woman doesn’t get to say that when we are out here in a homophobic world and saying our labels out loud is a sign of pride, she actually didn’t write a world without labels. The aforementioned Ka/vinsky is constantly using homophobic slurs to describe Ronan, boys at the private school make homophobic jokes, Adam’s dad makes lowkey homophobic remarks, etc. So labels are OK if they’re nasty and negative and used against you, but you’re never allowed to say who you are out loud.

When she gets called out on this whole mess- or a number of other things**- her response is to block people, tell people “if you are hostile one more time you’ll be blocked,” to reply to private posts by teenagers, to sic her army of clueless fans on young LGBT mentally ill readers, to claim that she’s being bullied and attacked, to make vague posts talking about “callout culture” and how it’s mature to avoid “discourse,” etc. I talked a while back about how I’ve made several fully thought-out posts critiquing her, but when I sent her a polite ask about her next book, she replied linking me to one of my own joke posts about “hating” her, making it clear that she apparently has me down on some sort of list of haters or something. And at least she responded privately, so that her other fans didn’t attack me, which has happened to other younger fans before.

She claims to be an ally, but she only really wants the ally points. She’ll talk your ear off about how brave she is for “writing an on-page queer relationship” as a straight woman, but when actual queer teenagers critique her for the way she writes it, she throws a fit and absolutely refuses to listen. She doesn’t want to do the work.

Additionally, she is writing a follow-up series called “the dreamer trilogy” which she drops constant hints about on her social media. It will center on Ronan (naturally, because she’s admitted Ronan is her self-insert and has butchered his character development for the sake of giving him a life identical to hers and fulfilling her fantasies of driving fast cars 24/7 and being an asshole with no consequences) and she’s making it increasingly obvious that none of the other characters we all fell in love with will feature at all. And basically any plotllines we enjoyed, she scraps (often out of spite?), and any plotlines we hate, she makes sure to write tons about (I’m talking about the magical artifact community. No one cares. We started reading for the house of psychics and Glendower and Gwenllian, not the fucking Greenmantles and their haunted doll babies or whatever).

The fandom obviously responded with like “ooh! more Pynch!” because like, fandoms like ships, but ALSO BECAUSE some of us are goddamn LGBT teenagers who are starving for representation and we want to see that “on page queer relationship” she brags about. And yet, at every opportunity, she makes remarks like, “This won’t be a romance. It won’t be the cuddle trilogy. It won’t have relationship drama, that doesn’t interest me. It won’t be fanservice. It won’t be lovey dovey, it won’t be cute, etc.” No, I don’t want fanservice or drama or the cuddle trilogy. But given her history, when Maggie says shit like that, I get worried, as someone who’s been baited a thousand times before. Doesn’t anyone see how awful it is to dangle representation like this? To say “ooh, look, someone who has the same identity as you? Juuuust kidding I’m not writing about it?” She can’t just say what we want to hear, which is “Adam will be there. I’ll say the word gay. I’ll say the word bisexual. Their relationship will be treated as real as Blue and Gansey’s or as any other relationship I write. Not the main focus of the plot, but THERE.” Because she’s not GOING to do any of those things, because writing actual gay relationships makes her uncomfortable. But she can’t say that or she’ll lose her sales.

And when she says all this bullshit about “I won’t write a romance” she gets so much FUCKING praise from her straight readers who think she’s the sun and fucking stars because their shit brand of feminism thinks all romances are equal and romance is insipid drivel and that a feminist book, apparently, is one token white girl who has a pink switchblade being sort-of in the background of a bunch of rich boys fucking around. I’m not saying I didn’t like that very book and that I don’t love that girl and her switchblade, but Maggie has to actually LEARN and IMPROVE and not go backwards. If she wants all this credit for gay representation, she has to actually write gay representation. And if not, I’m not congratulating her for “not writing relationship drama!!!!” because all that says to me is “yuck, I’m not writing gay stuff.” She says “relationship drama doesn’t interest me” and yet she wrote pages upon pages of Blue’s mother making out with a hit man. Relationship drama sure does seem to interest her. This isn’t her taking a Stand against romance, it’s her finding a way to make homophobia seem cool and progressive.

So yeah. That’s why she pisses me off.

*I know I know, “she’s never said her sexuality! How can you call her straight?” On the off chance she’s bisexual (she’s married to a man with kids), that doesn’t excuse her homophobic bullshit. She’s acting like an asshole straight person so yeah I’m gonna call her straight.

**Here are some other problems she’s been called out for and her bullshit reactions:

-Blue is basically the only female character and has no female friends or anything. Maggie says “well none of them had friends!” OK so why isn’t there another girl in the group? Why is her family the only other women who have page time besides villains and other relatives of main characters?

-Gansey gives Adam a lot of grief for not being fond of Gansey’s wealth, but Adam never makes Gansey apologize for blaming Adam for the abuse he endured? Maggie doesn’t have a comment on this, I don’t think.

-In book four, Ronan and Adam make racist jokes at the expense of the One (1) character of color, Henry Cheng. Maggie didn’t address this outright because “spoilers” but made a post about it saying that it wasn’t meant to be a racist joke, it was a throwback to some random joke from book one, and any good reader would know that.

-Blue isn’t a very intersectional feminist, which is fine, but it’s never really addressed, apparently because “all the characters are damn fools!” Who never get any character development except for Adam whose development essentially consists of “I stopped being prejudiced against the rich!” (and lots of other personal things but still)

Yeah, that’s about all I can think of. This didn’t end up being very neutral but I have class in 10 minutes and yeah this is hella long I just wanted to get it all out. I hope I don’t get shit for this, but you know what, anons? Go ahead, send me stuff saying I’m a nasty bitch and should stay away from fandom for criticizing poor Maggie. I don’t even care.

OH AND THEBROKENBREAKINGSEAS: THANK YOU FOR YOUR QUESTION. I know I answered in a horrifically mean tone but that ISN’T directed towards you, you were just asking! Don’t take my words at face value, I’m super biased. If you’re interested, you can go read Maggie’s blog and Twitter account, or other fans’ essays on this, etc. I’m glad you asked! And thanks for still following me after all this stuff haha. I’m normally... nicer? I think? Thanks again.