#I'm putting heaps of tags because otherwise the only person who will see this will be my like one follower

[theravingcycle-blog]

Pynch soulmate au

Here's a re-upload of a (now edited) pynch soulmate au from my old blog, lynchganseyparrish. Please enjoy and send any other prompts you can think of! The forest on Ronan’s back had wilted. The leaves had curled in, just slightly, and the branches were drooping. Normally, Ronan wouldn’t have thought about it too much – it wasn’t any of his business how his supposed ‘soulmate’ was feeling, plus it wasn’t like he cared either way – only something new had appeared in the tattoo; flowers, of all different colours, peeking out cheerfully through the vines and twisting their way around the trunks of the trees. It bemused Ronan, as it seemed to mean his soulmate was feeling both happy and sad at the same time, and he couldn’t help but wonder what caused it. Ronan also had another reason to be a little more anxious than usual – his best friend was getting married. He was viciously pleased when Gansey asked him to be the best man, because he thought Gansey might have been pressured into asking someone a little more presentable to have by his side in front of the upper-class men and women who would be attending the wedding to see how Senator Gansey’s son had turned out. Of course, Blue wasn’t exactly a ‘presentable’ companion either. In fact, neither Ronan nor Blue were really fitting company for someone like Gansey III, but it wasn’t like Gansey himself had ever complied with tradition. Truly, he and Blue were a perfect match, just as their tattoos had foretold. Ronan loved imagining the looks on the Gansey’s faces when they finally met their son’s soulmate – a 5’ nothing wildfire of a person with a fashion sense to rival their son’s, though at least hers was edgy. Ronan took his spot near the Altar, waiting for the music to start. He nudged Blue, who was standing next to him in a tattered white dress that she had layered with other clothing, and brought his mouth to her ear. He actually had to bend down to reach, which was fucking hilarious. “Last chance to back out. I did have to physically force him not to wear boat shoes,” Ronan whispered, and Blue laughed while cringing. “I think it’s too late,” she muttered back. “Some congress people are here, and if we stop it now I won’t get the chance to yell at them.” “Atta girl,” Ronan said, and ruffled her hair. She scowled and was about to reply when someone put their hand on her shoulder. “Hey Blue, sorry I’m late; Noah almost nailed me with the glitter pot and I only just escaped.” Blue pulled whoever it was down –again, hilarious – for a hug, and then laughed. “He still got you, look, it’s all over your neck!” she sounded a little too gleeful; like she had a plan starting to form in her dwarf brain. Ronan almost felt sorry for the poor dude. Wait, that dude was hot. Okay, Ronan definitely felt sorry for him now. “Ronan,” Blue said. “This is Adam Parrish, my wench of honour.” Parrish rolled his eyes and stuck out a hand. “I prefer man of honour,” he laughed lightly. Wowzer, Ronan thought, and then: Did I just unironically think the word wowzer? Adam’s hand was warm and elegant when he shook it. Ronan really liked Adam’s hands. He cleared his throat. “Ronan Lynch.” Adam smiled softly, he seemed a little – shy? Abashed? Ronan couldn’t tell. “Nice to meet you, Ronan,” he said quietly as the music began to play and the doors started to open. Naturally, Blue had insisted that Gansey walked down the aisle, because the idea of a woman being ‘given away’ by a man, to another man, was incredibly sexist, and if she was going to get married at all, it would not be in a way that ‘further encourages the subtle dehumanisation and oppression of women’ as Blue had put it. Although, she had said it with a lot more feeling, and a lot less child-friendly words. Ronan zoned out again as Gansey reached the altar, but who could blame him? Weddings were boring as fuck. Actually, he was pretty sure Parrish was also zoned out – his eyes were slightly glazed over and he’d been staring at the same spot for the past two minutes. Not that Ronan had been, like, watching him or anything. He’d just…noticed, was all. He forced himself out of that dangerous train of thought as Noah brought the rings. It was quite the scandal when Blue asked Noah to do it – generally people like him weren’t allowed to participate in things such as weddings. Noah didn’t have a soul tattoo, something about which there were many theories – soulmate died before birth, etc. but no one really knew. The more bigoted, stupid and therefore most popular assumption was that those without a soul mark didn’t have souls, and so were not truly alive. Ronan really hated that theory – especially after he met Noah. The guy was the most vibrant person he knew. Suddenly, Gansey and Blue were kissing (did he really zone out that long?) and the wildfire on Gansey’s arm roared into an inferno, licking its way up his neck onto his cheek before it died down as they pulled apart. Ronan’s gaze shifted to the map of Henrietta on Blue’s ankle, and saw the lines representing streets begin to darken until the bolder lines formed a pattern – two crowns, side by side. Gansey really was a sap, Ronan thought, but he couldn’t help grinning a little. Finally, the ceremony was over, and Ronan was free to do as he pleased at the reception. Which was hide in a corner and glare at all the people swarming around Gansey and Blue, whilst simultaneously watching Parrish. Not in a creepy way! Adam was just… interesting. He wondered idly how he became friends with Blue. He didn’t seem to be good friends with anyone else here, in fact, he looked a little lonely, leaning against the wall over there. Maybe Ronan should- “Ronan!” said Blue, a little breathlessly, dragging an apologetic looking Gansey behind her. “There you are! We just escaped the mob,” Gansey winced and looked around in the vain hope that no one heard her “-and we’re all about to go sit, do you know where Adam is?” “Yeah, he’s right over there,” Ronan pointed, and Blue beamed wickedly. She tugged on Gansey’s sleeve, and he bent down – again, fucking hilarious – so she could whisper in his ear. He nodded, then set off. “Been keeping an eye on Parrish, huh?” she smirked. “I mean, I don’t blame you. Adam is smokin’.” “I-what-no!” Ronan spluttered a little (though he would never admit that). He regained his composure, shot her a Ronan Glare ™ and stalked off to find Gansey and their table. “YOU KNOW ABOUT THE TRADITION FOR THE MAID OF HONOUR AND BEST MAN,” Blue shouted at his retreating back. She sounded like she was wiggling her eyebrows at him. He flipped her the bird without turning, and heard the gasps of scandalised guests, along with Blue’s cackle as she went to get Adam. He flopped into the seat next to Gansey, and put his head on the table. “You married a fucking gremlin,” he said to Gansey, who didn’t look put out in the slightest. “She’s incredible,” he agreed reverently, as if Ronan hadn’t just been attempting to insult her. “Whatever,” Ronan said, smushing his face against the table. “Just don’t feed her after midnight.” **** Adam and Blue joined the table shortly after, along with Noah. Adam was really pretty. Not that it mattered, because it wasn’t like Ronan was going to act on it- he found out (subtly) that Adam and Blue had dated when they first met, so odds were he was probably straight. Also, he thought maybe Adam had some mixed feelings about today - he seemed a little wistful when no one else was looking, so maybe he still had feelings for Blue. Tragic, but Ronan would get over it. Probably. “Ronan,” Adam laughed, waving a hand in front of his face. “Rooooonan.” Ronan was coming to the conclusion that Adam was a little tipsy, though it wasn’t his place to judge considering he was much closer to drunk. It was just after the reception, Gansey and Blue having just driven home in the Pig (whether they’d make it home without it breaking down was a different story) and Ronan and Adam were… well, they were just standing there. Should they be heading off too? “Fuck,” said Adam, with a bit of humour in his voice still. “I don’t normally drink. It’s those stupid apple juice Champaign things. They trick me every time.” He groaned, mussing his hair and sending Ronan into cardiac arrest. “I can’t drive home.” “I can give you a lift,” Ronan said, probably a bit too eager to make a good impression on Adam. Adam looked at him like he was an idiot, and well, yeah, fair enough, but it wasn’t a completely stupid thing to offer! “You’re drunker than I am,” Adam said. “You’re not driving anywhere.” Ronan rolled his eyes. “Okay, mom,” he said mockingly, and Adam drew himself up to his full height – which was still just shorter than Ronan. (He should have found this funny but instead he just found it adorable and he was so screwed) “Hey,” Adam said, voice slightly slurred and – was that an accent slipping out? Oh god oh god oh god- “Rules are … important,” he said, poking Ronan in the chest. “I’m calling a cab,” he sighed, getting his phone out. Ronan ignored the twinge of disappointment in his chest as Adam finished speaking and hung up. He started to walk back inside, to see if he could get a lift with someone, when he felt Adam’s hand on his shoulder. “Ronan,” Adam said clearly, and there wasn’t a hint of alcohol in his voice. “I really would like a drive… maybe when we’re both completely sober?” Ronan couldn’t breathe. Is this what it sounds like? Is he… He cleared his throat. “Yeah,” he said, hoping his voice wouldn’t betray him. “I’d- I’d like that.” Adam grinned and Ronan’s breath had just come back, fuck you Parrish- “It’s a date,” he said, and reached for Ronan’s arm. Ronan complied with whatever he was doing mainly because his brain had forgotten how to function properly, because HIS HANDS ARE ON MY ARM, oh fuckfuckfuckfuck- “There,” said Adam, drawing back, and Ronan took his arm back to inspect it. There were numbers written on it (he hadn’t even realised Adam had a pen) and he distantly realised it must have been Adam’s number. He had Adam’s number. Adam’s number was on his arm. Wowzer. He was so out of it he barely registered a cab pulling up. Adam turned away and made to open the door when Ronan spun him round again. “I’ll- uh, see you soon,” Ronan said, and he must have been a hell of a lot drunker than he realised because he leant forwards and kissed Adam on the cheek. He spun quickly and started walking hurriedly back indoors, his thoughts a turmoil of holy fuck I just did that I just DID that! He walked so fast he almost missed Adam’s breathlessly pleased laugh of “…Bye.” Ronan almost ran into the door when he reached it. **** Three weeks later, they were dating. Ronan hadn’t expected Adam to be so much, so smart and witty and kind and fierce and so full of surprises. It had only been three weeks and he had fallen so hard, but then, Ronan never did do things slowly – he lived like he drove, reckless, wild and probably incredibly dangerously for bystanders. He was over at Adam’s place (which was tiny but he didn’t care because it was Adam) after their fourth (or fifth) official date, and he was decidedly too distracted by Adam to care which it was. Adam slid a hand under his shirt, lips still locked feverously, and traced the skin of Ronan’s back. Ronan jumped and pulled away, stifling his groan. “Sorry,” Adam said. “Too much?” “No,” Ronan breathed. “God, no.” Adam regarded him strangely. “Are you alright?” He asked. Ronan took a deep breath and nodded. “It’s just- that’s where my tattoo is,” he said, cautiously, analysing Adam’s face. “Oh,” said Adam. “Can I- Is it alright if I see?” he questioned, sounding a little nervous. Ronan held his breath. “Yeah,” he said, roughly. “Yeah, that’s- okay.” He turned around and slowly pulled his shirt off. He heard Adam gasp, and felt hands ghosting over his back, tracing the trunks of the trees. It had been getting much more impressive in recent times, the forest blooming like nothing he’d seen before, and he had even spotted small animals darting through the trees. Ronan bit his lip as he felt Adam’s blunt nail trace down the curve of his spine, and tried desperately not to do anything to scare him off. Suddenly he felt Adam’s hot breath on his ear. “Ronan,” he said urgently. “Ronan, it’s mine.” Ronan turned around instantly, so he was face to face with Adam once again. “What?” He said disbelievingly, and Adam bit his lip, smiling wider than Ronan had ever seen. “The mark,” he said. “That’s mine.” Ronan lurched forward and pulled him into a desperate, needy kiss. Breaking it off, he said “wait- where’s yours – can I?” and Adam nodded. His brain short circuited as Adam began to pull down his pants, and he was sure he blushed furiously as Adam shot him an amused glance. He’d only tugged it down a little past his hipbone, but Ronan couldn’t find it in himself to be disappointed when he saw the small mark moving on Adams skin. It was really quite small, and he had to lean closer to get a better look at it (well, that was his excuse anyway). It was a raven, only a small one, perched delicately on Adam’s hip. It looked up at him as if to say well, what are you waiting for? Ronan felt recognition and certainty flood through him as the raven took off, soaring in circles around Adam’s body before settling back down on his hip. Ronan leaned forward more, pressed his lips to it, and smiled when he heard Adam’s gasp. He looked up and met Adam’s eyes, resting his head on Adam’s stomach. “Yeah,” he whispered. “Yeah, that’s – that’s mine.” Adam laughed breathlessly and pulled him up for a deep, heart-wrenching kiss. The raven cawed soundlessly in triumph and the forest whispered back. They both said the same thing. Finally.

[sexatoxbridge]

hi! I'm a danielle stan, but I respect that you don't like her/have your own opinions of her. but, I have to ask, why is the 'larry' (i hope I got it right) fandom so mean to her on her social medias? There's a difference between not liking her and saying it on your page, and just harassing her on her own page- yknow? Do you agree with that? It just makes me so sad because there are more mature ways of going about this than commenting that she doesn't deserve to be happy or she's complete trash.

Hello again.

I presume you are the same person who has messaged me repeatedly, but always politely (thanks for that), which is why I keep responding. Also I can’t imagine there being more than one self-proclaimed “danielle stan” hence my powers of deduction.

This has absolutely nothing to do with Louis and Harry’s relationship. In fact if you go through my responses and posts about her (they’re all right here) you will find that, aside from using gifs of Harry, I don’t think I’ve ever used Harry to make a point about why I don’t like Danielle.

I’ve personally never attempted to make Danielle aware of what I’ve said, meaning that I don’t @ her on twitter or comment on anything that comes from her social media profiles because I don’t care. Tagging her name to something on Tumblr is far from what I’d consider harassment as she would actively have to seek out what I was writing in order to read it. It’s other people’s prerogative with how they want to express their feelings, but I’ve never come out, shaking my fist in the air, declaring that Danielle Campbell doesn’t deserve happiness. Mainly because I don’t actively sit here hating her, I have mostly apathy for her, unless she’s doing something that I feel is hurtful to others. 

Which brings me to my next point...

For someone to willingly insert themselves into a bearding contract in exchange for anything, but particularly to try and boost their own career as a celebrity, is pretty fucking disgraceful. The only instance in which I can think that bearding is excusable is if the person in the closet’s safety would be compromised by them coming out, otherwise the entire thing sends a very sad and wrong message, which is that being gay is something to hide. 

Why do I think that this is the case with Danielle? Well, it roots very deeply into a lot of time spent looking into all sides of the conundrum that is Louis Tomlinson and coming to the firm belief that he likes men. Well, my belief is that he likes at least one man, and that man is Harry Styles. This is purely based on information that is available to everyone and which I put into an article I wrote two years ago: Some People GENUINELY Think That Louis Tomlinson And Harry Styles Are In A Relationship There was also this whole thing where they dressed up rainbow coloured teddy bears, but don’t worry about that. 

With that as a core belief of mine, to see someone like Danielle Campbell exploiting the homophobic practise of bearding for her own personal gain is infuriating. A lot of people have asked why I don’t get mad at Louis, or that maybe Louis is closeting himself. To imply that would be to imply that Louis is ashamed of not being straight, which I certainly do not consider to be the truth. 

Louis’ boss is Simon Cowell. Simon Cowell cares about making money. Simon Cowell and his marketing team at one point told One Direction that their target audience of young girls and women, who would like them less if they were gay. And that is a terribly heart-breaking thing to imagine someone telling a group of 16-18 year old boys. Simon’s tactic with One Direction has clearly never been about music, but about fame and money. In his autobiography he wrote about his tactics for fame:

This is unfortunately testament to how the entertainment industry works. However, there is absolutely no case in which I would agree to help closet someone in exchange for money and fame because you’re basically saying, “I am willing to profit off of homophobia.” If someone is willing to do so, then I retain the right to call them a flaming heap of garbage, because that is what they are.