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parrisher · 3 years ago

Note

ooh ronan pov of the bllb scene?? fuck yess!!

anon i love u endlessly

on ao3

As Ronan fluttered back to reality, he realized two things very quickly. One, he was frozen in place, lying in a pew. Two, his clothes were drenched —he looked as far as he could without moving his head—his own blood.

Well, technically his own blood. And technically, those were his own whimpers echoing agonizingly through the pews of St. Agnes. But Ronan’s mouth was stuck shut.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Adam start awake.

Fuck.

Adam jerked back from the twitching dream-Ronan before he even seemed to fully realize what he was seeing. Ronan watched, still helplessly stuck, as Adam’s eyes raked over dream-Ronan’s arched spine, his shaking fingers, his desperate eyes. Adam sucked in a sharp breath. His lip began to curl, quivering, and Ronan tore his eyes away.

Watching Adam grieve felt too private to watch, even for the grieved himself.

He heard the shuffle of denim against carpet and finally, as Adam scrambled over to the body that pleaded with Ronan’s own voice, Ronan’s body sagged against the hard wood of the pew. The manila envelope, stuffed with a hundred different horrors, almost fell out of his hand before he tightened his grip, refusing to let go of everything he’d just sacrificed for.

He had to get up, he had to get them out of there. But as he lay there, Ronan couldn’t think of anything besides the panic in Adam’s eyes. The heat of a thousand different emotions mounted in his chest.

The simple, wringing sadness from seeing death. The heart-stopping fear of his nightmares. The pain in Adam’s gasp that had lodged like an arrow in his chest and, above all, the frustration that Adam had insisted on staying. That he’d been sappy enough to let Adam stay, that he’d had to see this-

“Ronan-” Adam’s voice came out strangled. Ronan sat up in a rush, but Adam wasn’t talking to him. Bent over dream-Ronan, bleeding out on the church carpet, his voice was barely a whisper, no life behind it. “Oh, God.”

A prayer fit for a church. Ronan didn’t miss the irony.

The pain, the guilt, the tears straining to be held back all exploded in his chest with those two damn words. Watching Adam move helplessly over Ronan’s own body, beautiful hands fluttering from blood-soaked stomach to ruined throat to chest, Ronan had the sudden impulse to run before Adam could see him. Another impulse immediately followed, barely stronger than the first.

You can't run from this, idiot. He thinks he’s watching you die.

How many more burdens would he throw carelessly onto Adam’s shoulders? How much more could he take? He’d watched the bags under the other boy’s eyes grow deeper and deeper as the hunt for Glendower had stolen more time from Adam, and now—Adam didn’t deserve this, he didn’t need the nightmares. He was running on empty already.

Frustration spiraled up again, faster than he could push it down. Anger picked a target before he could stop himself.

“Are you happy now?” Ronan regretted the words as soon as he’d spit them out. “Is this what you wanted?” He gritted his teeth as Adam jumped, looking around wildly. When his eyes finally landed on Ronan, he looked-

Emotion swelled again in Ronan’s chest. Adam looked lost, gaze faint. Unreachable. His voice came from miles away. “What’s-” he blinked several times to no avail. “What’s happening.” It wasn’t a question.

Dream-Ronan let out a shivering cry. Real-Ronan knew how he felt.

He couldn’t stop the fear-sorrow-anger from flashing across his face as he saw the version of himself bleeding out on the ancient St. Agnes carpet. Somewhere deep in the fog of his brain, something told him he should scream. Something else told him that it could have been worse.

At least Adam hadn’t had to put the pieces of him together.

Ronan looked back over at Adam, and found that he was watching Ronan intently. He still looked about ready to faint, but the fog in his eyes had cleared. What was underneath, though—an unguarded sadness, pain, pity written all across his perfect cheekbones--was somehow even worse.

It was the fact that he’d seen this part of Ronan, all the shit inside his head. Adam was crouched over a hard copy of all the bad decisions he’d made, all the times he’d gone to bed wondering if he would be around to bring anything back. All the terrible, too-real things he’d brought back. Wasps in Monmouth. Adam’s t-shirt. Slit wrists.

Maybe Ronan should scream.

Maybe he should break down, throw his arms around Adam, beg him not to let him die.

But if there was one thing he and Adam had in common, it was that they couldn’t stand to be pitied. So Ronan dragged the ice back into his tone.

“You wanted to stay?” he snarled. He thought of Kavinsky. Leash your dog, Gansey. “Well, here we are. Hope you enjoyed the show.”

Adam pushed himself up from where he’d been kneeling by the body. There was a tiny red bloodstain—Ronan’s blood—on the worn-out neck of Adam’s shirt that Ronan couldn’t tear his eyes away from. Dream-Ronan was still gasping for air. “Why would you- why?” Surprise met with his Henrietta twang as they laced their way through his voice. “What did you do? What happened?”

What had happened?

Nightmares. They should’ve known. Even if Ronan had tried to dream a godddamn lollipop, he would’ve had nightmares, but dreaming this kind of shit? To get photos, he had to stage them. To get a hand, he had to cut it off. Adam’s plan was the kind of grisly detail that nightmares eat for breakfast. And he’d been in there so long…

The dream-Ronan gave a last shuddering cry and went still. Ronan knew Adam was watching, could feel Adam’s eyes on his face, and he tried to keep his face neutral.

But God- he’d just died, for fuck’s sake.

“I tried for too much at once,” he said. His voice betrayed him- it was too flat, too emotionless even for him. Adam’s eyes flashed with guilt growing more watery by the minute, and the resulting stab of self-hatred shocked even Ronan with its force. He stared resolutely past the other boy. “I was in there too long. The night horrors came, and then-” he realized in horror that his voice was shaking. He took a breath in and refused to meet Adam’s eyes. “Then I heard the wasps, and I knew I would bring them back, and then-” he gestured with practiced thoughtlessness towards dead-Ronan. “That would be me. But, like, for real.” He could see Adam’s jaw clench out of the corner of his eye. He refused to let himself think about what that meant, and this frustration only added to the mix of emotions coloring his words. “Easy solution. Dreamt a new me, fresh and ready-to-die. Woke up. Here I am. Here I am, again.” He was spitting the words out now. “What a cool trick. What a damn cool trick.”

He finally glanced over, but Adam’s face was unreadable. He had a look in his eye like he was putting together a puzzle that was, as he went, gaining more pieces. Ronan felt far too known.

He couldn’t do it anymore. He had to get out. Some corner of his mind reminded him why they’d gone through all this in the first place, and he only remembered the envelope in his hand as he was shoving it towards Adam. “Here’s your shit.” The words came out embarrassingly wounded. Ronan could feel his window of escape slipping.

It seemed to take a second for Adam to recognize what the envelope was, and a second longer for him to reach out his hand and grasp it. The blood-stained manila looked wildly out of place in his long fingers.

There was a moment of silence as the two faced each other. It was obvious from in the pain in Adam’s eyes, in the way he seemed to wilt in on himself, in how his breath hitched that he had lost something precious in this church. That Ronan had ripped something from him.

Dream-Ronan’s eyes stared up at the chapel ceiling, seeing nothing.

A sigh broke the silence. “What now?” Adam sounded almost embarrassed. “What do we-”

“Nothing,” Ronan interrupted. His eyes had just caught the bloodstains on Adam’s knuckles from the dreamt envelope. He thought about crossing over to him and wiping them away. He thought about pausing, hand in hand, looking into the cornflower eyes that had shed tears over his dead body, lifting a tan knuckle to rough lips. He thought about running away and leaving Sister Whoever to find his dead body. “We do nothing. You go.”

Adam’s eyebrows lifted in surprise, then crinkled in confusion. “What?”

Heat was rising in Ronan’s chest again, that same fiery mix of grief and anger and fear and this time love, maybe. He couldn’t breathe. He realized he was shaking. “I said I didn’t want you here in case this happened. It happened. Look at you.”

Any trace of grief or even embarrassment was suddenly gone from Adam’s eyes. He was the magician again, making bargains with Ronan’s dreams without ever feeling a thing. “Asshole.” His mouth twitched. “This wasn’t my fault.” Ronan knew it wasn’t Adam’s fault. Of course it wasn’t Adam’s fault. Adam wasn’t the one who had made Ronan watch him die, slowly and painfully.

But he still couldn’t breathe right as long as Adam was standing there staring at him, and by now, the bloodstains were sinking into the carpet. The chapel was starting to feel less like a house of worship and more like a place where demons were made. “Just go,” he said in a voice too low, too rough, not to mean the opposite. “Get the hell away from me.” He stared up at Adam, and Adam stared back, and he knew they both could feel the echoes of a thousand past fights, a thousand times where neither had backed down.

“I’ll ask one more time.” There was steel in Adam’s voice. Ronan knew, instinctively, that they would never mention this again. There was a part of him that wished they could. “What now?”

But another, stronger part needed to watch it all burn, if only for a moment. Ronan wished desperately that he could shove it down, but it set his jaw and drew his face into a scowl before he could stop himself. “Bye. That’s what.”

He was an idiot who deserved whatever came to him.

“Whatever.” Adam stepped around dream-Ronan on his way out. Ronan couldn’t tell if he imagined the way Adam’s expression faltered when he looked down or not. “Next time you can die alone.” His footsteps faded up the stairs to his apartment. Much later, so late it would almost be early, Ronan knew those same stairs would echo with Adam’s panicked shout as he woke from seeing Ronan’s glassy eyes over and over again. He knew he would do the same.

He knew he’d hide a worn-out gray t-shirt underneath his bed.

He finally screamed. It echoed off the chapel ceiling, past the altar, back to the stairs where Adam and his cheekbones had just left, until Ronan couldn’t tell if the sound had come from himself or the pale dream-Ronan still lying in a pool of his own blood.

“What’s happening?” Adam’s shaky voice, scared because of him. “Ronan, oh god.”

Ronan fell into the pew and buried his head in his hands.

#pynch #ronan lynch #adam parrish #trc #the raven cycle #pynch fic #my writing #ask

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parttimehuman · 4 years ago

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pynch, dawn, purple 😊

Ronan prefers not to think about the reason why he ended up at the door to Adam’s shitty little apartment at St. Agnes of all places. The sun is starting to rise and Ronan is running low on gas after spending the whole night driving around Henrietta. Somehow, he didn’t want to go home to find Gansey passed out in the middle of mini Henrietta. Neither did he want to sit in his own room not noticing Noah in the corner. Besides, everything - everything - is better than another dream.

So why not bother Parrish for a while, Ronan thought as he hit the gas. Why not make his existence Parrish’s problem this morning?

As it turns out, Adam has bigger problems, which Ronan thinks is a little insulting. Even before the sun is up, he’s already busy. Homework, studying, God knows what. Ronan certainly doesn’t. Wouldn’t dream of asking, either.

Instead, he seizes the opportunity and takes a look around Adam’s new... well, Ronan wouldn’t exactly call it a home. For such a tiny place, there is surprisingly much empty space. The walls are blank. The few clothes Adam owns are neatly folded and stacked on a chair, the books he’s borrowing from Aglionby are in immaculate condition - not that Ronan would have needed proof of that.

In a different environment, it would have never caught Ronan’s eye. In the midst of dreamt up creatures and knick-knack at the Barns or among the countless relics of Gansey’s quest for Glendower at Monmouth, Ronan wouldn’t have seen it at all. But inside Adam’s own little emptiness, Ronan can’t not stare right at it.

It’s a pride pin. Barely the size of Ronan’s thumb nail. Three stripes. Pink at the top. Blue at the bottom. Purple in the middle. It’s the purple that won’t leave him alone. All of a sudden, it seems like Ronan’s body is frozen in place. You would think it takes a lot more to shock him than a speck of unexpected color.

Ronan sent a prayer to God on the day he saw Adam Parrish for the very first time. Every day since then, he’s told himself not to expect anything to come of it. Because Adam belonged to the Gansey friend group more than to Ronan. Because Adam likes Blue, and even if he didn’t, he wouldn’t be stupid enough to fall for Ronan instead. Because Adam simply doesn’t like him like that. Maybe not at all. Adam isn’t wired to- Adam doesn’t want- Adam will never-

How do you know, Ronan?

It’s the purple, screaming at him.

Maybe, if you hadn’t made assumptions in the first place...

But those assumptions were his safety. It’s so much easier to want something you know you can’t have than to want something you think you might have a chance getting. Hope is such a treacherous thing. So impossible to kill.

Hope can survive on such little sustenance. Like three little stripes and the way they fit together. Hope makes itself at home in the hearts of those who don’t want it. No reasoning helps. No better judgment can withstand.

Ronan forces his eyes shut, but even then, he can still see the purple. He tips his head back and sends another prayer towards heaven.

If you have any mercy, God, don’t let me wait so long before you have him break me.

#this got slightly darker than originally intended #sorry anon #thank you for the prompt though!#pynch #end of 2020 drabbles #ronan lynch #adam parrish #trc #the raven cycle #my writing #drabble

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happyandticklish · 4 years ago

Text

Stress Reliever

Part One - Gansey discovers something new about himself and decides to use it to deal with a problem of his; Ronan is happy to help.

“Hey. Dickhead. Move.”

Gansey glanced up at the fragmented words, barely a sentence, and raised an eyebrow. “It’s my couch.”

“Yeah, and it’s my legs you’re sitting on.”

“Move your legs then.”

Ronan narrowed his eyes. The weight of Gansey pressing into his legs was beginning to become painful, not to mention he had been sitting here first, ownership of the couch be damned. He hadn’t meant to do it, really, but having lived with brothers all his life, instinct just took over.

His fingers were moving before he could help it and Gansey let out a surprised snort of laughter as Ronan dug into his sides.

“R-Rohohonan?” Gansey yelped, confusion evident in his voice though he didn’t move away immediately. “Whahat are you dohoing?”

“Getting you to move.” He honestly hadn’t expected it to work. Gansey was so calm and composed most of the time that the thought of him being ticklish had never even occurred to Ronan. But here he was, giggling underneath Ronan’s fingers with a freeing helplessness that hadn’t been apparent on his face in years.

What a world they lived in.

“Stohohop,” Gansey cried frantically, apparently also unaware of his sensitivity. “I-Ihihi swehear, Rohoho—ohoho my god, nohoho!”

After Ronan hit a particularly sensitive spot under his ribs, Gansey finally jerked away from him and consequently off the couch. He let out a startled yelp, just managing to save the computer from falling as well. Satisfied in his mission, Ronan leaned back on the armrest, closing his eyes.

Gansey slowly clambered to his feet, setting the computer on a nearby desk to save it from further harm. He fixed his glasses, which had gotten knocked askew in his tumble. He glared at Ronan who in turn ignored the gesture in favor of a smug grin.

“You know I could get you back, right?” Gansey pointed out, clearly taking in the way Ronan sat completely spread out and exposed on the couch.

Ronan didn’t so much as twitch a muscle. “Try touching me and I’ll spend the rest of my day finalizing your funeral arrangements.”

Gansey didn’t move for a moment, clearly taking the threat into account, and finally snatched up his computer and stalked out of the room. Ronan settled into the creaky cushions, allowing himself to sink back into the relaxed state he had been in.

He had expected that to be the end of it, so when Gansey approached him a month later he had no idea the direction the conversation had been headed.

“Ronan.”

“Gansey.”

Gansey was nervous. Really nervous. It was difficult to tell with him sometimes as he usually preferred to keep his emotions sealed tightly under a charming grin. But now he fidgeted with his hands, his eyes only occasionally moving to focus on Ronan’s before flicking back to a spot on the left wall.

“As you know, focusing on both school activities and everything relating to it, as well as my search for Glendower has become rather, shall we say, taxing. What I’m really trying to get at is I’m stressed.”

Ronan raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment. It was rare that Gansey admitted when something was bothering him, and he didn’t want to ruin that with questions.

“Do you remember that moment, a couple weeks ago, when I sat on your legs to finish my paper, justified reasons I should add, to want to work on my own couch. And then you… um, you know.” Gansey gestured vaguely with his hands.

Ronan frowned. “No, I don’t know. Are you okay?” Possibly he was having a nervous breakdown. Or a stroke. That seemed likely from how much he was sweating.

“Never been better.”

“So?”

“So what?”

“What was I doing?”

Gansey’s cheeks burned as he answered. “You were tickling me.”

Confusion remained etched onto Ronan’s features. “Yeah, so?”

“So,” Gansey continued with gritted teeth. “I was wondering if you could, you know, do it again.” He paused. “If you want to, of course.”

Ronan blinked at him. Ganey was staring at him intently, as if trying to make up for his nervousness by intensity. The request had thrown Ronan for a loop, and he repeated the question, sure he had heard him wrong. “You want me to tickle you?”

Gansey flicked his tongue over his bottom lip nervously, his face somehow growing even redder at the mention of the word. “Y-Yes?”

Ronan leaned back on his bed, arms crossed as he examined Gansey critically. It was a show of how much Gansey wanted this that he had dared enter his room at all without permission or a death wish.

“Why?” he said at last after trying to form his own answer for the question and failing. It was a simple question, but from the look on Gansey’s face it was not as simple an answer.

“I’ve heard—I mean I’ve read, books that say t-tickling can relax the body and the mind,” Gansey said after a moment, both of them hearing the stutter and both of them choosing to ignore it. “It releases natural endorphins in the brain. I thought it might help.” He paused. “With the stress that is.”

Ronan sat forward, narrowing his eyes in determination. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Gansey repeated, confused. “Does that mean—whahahait!”

Ronan’s sudden pounce threw him off guard and Gansey fell back on the couch as his roommate dug ruthless fingers into his sides, his thumbs digging harshly into his ribs. Gansey found laughter startled from him and after a very uncharacteristic shriek he bit into his lip, trying desperately to hide the rest of the sounds that tried to escape.

“I’ve never had somebody ask for me to this,” Ronan commented curiously, his fingers climbing effortlessly up his sides. “But I’m not going to turn down an oppurtunity like this. God Gansey, I didn’t realize you were this ticklish.”

“I-I dihidn’t k-know!” Gansey replied honestly, squeezing his eyes shut. He was heavily losing the battle of wills he was playing against himself, and spluttering giggles slipped out despite himself. Every inch of him begged to shove Ronan off and end the torment immediately. He didn’t, though, choosing instead to curl up on the couch and feebly clutch his sides in an effort to protect them, an effort that was, ultimately, useless. “Ehehehe, ohohoho, g-gah! Nohohohoho!”

“I know you’re ticklish here,” Ronan said, darting his hands up to goose his sides, delighting in the startled yelp. “But I wonder where else.” His hands darted down to squeeze at his hips and Gansey honest-to-god squealed, a noise he would later deny ever making. His hands shot down to grab his wrists, but as Ronan had two brothers and had often found himself involved in vigorous tickle fights, he was undeterred by this action. His thumbs dug into the bone, gently rubbing it, and Gansey arched on the couch, his knee coming up to protect the ticklish nerves.

“Now we can’t have that.” Ronan shoved his knee back with his other hand, flipping them around so that Ronan sat on his stomach facing his legs, his hands now free to continue their relentless assault.

Gansey himself had only ever experienced Helen’s teasing pokes and a couple jabs by classmates, including Adam on occasion, so he was unprepared for the sheer intensity of real tickling. He couldn’t figure out the right way to react and compensated for this ignorance by flailing around in a way that was altogether quite useless. After a while he settled on lunging forward and wrapping his arms around Ronan’s torso. Ronan flinched, startled by the sudden movement, but after seeing that Gansey had zero plans to launch any kind of counterattack, he decided to let him be.

Their position did mean that hips were quite out of the picture however, so Ronan decided to move onto his legs. He squeezed curiously up and down his thighs for a bit, watching as Gansey twitched and chuckled. When he got to his knees, pinching right above the bone, he was rewarded with a frantic shriek right in his ear. Before he could even complain about the noise Gansey was shoving him off and scrambling to his feet.

“I-I think that’s enough for right now,” Gansey informed him in a forced business like tone, his cheeks a bright red. “If you don’t mind, I believe I have a project that’s due tomorrow, so I will be getting to that now.”

Ronan raised an eyebrow as he fled back to his room, his haste not unnoticed by the other. He decided to let him be for the moment, but there was no doubt in his mind that this would be the last time he exploited the other boy’s sensitivity. Not now that he knew about it. He tucked the information away for later and stalked out of the apartment to go find Adam.

#tickling #ronan lynch #richard campbell gansey iii #gansey #tickle fic #trc #the raven cycle #ticklish gansey #fanfiction #part one

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eury--dice · 4 years ago

Text

history, huh?

chapter 3: propius

(check the rb for chapters 1 + 2 on tumblr + ao3 links!)

Adam was woken at 5 o’clock on the dot with a series of sharp knocks on his door. “Up and Adam,” Gansey’s voice called, making the one stupid dad joke that always set Adam’s blood to a boil. He was too tired to react, however.

“Kindly leave until a later time,” he called, his voice heavy with sleep. “I don’t have class for another three hours.”

Gansey opened the door anyway, striding in with more pep than anyone should have in the morning.

“You’ve made the tabloids, my friend. Your weekend with Ronan finally hit.”

“Did you sleep at all?”

“Nope,” Gansey said cheerfully. “‘From America, With Love: Ronan and Adam flaunt friendship.’” He turned on his heel once he’d crossed the length of the room, which Adam could never forget was formerly Malia Obama’s, and seated himself in Adam’s desk chair.

Adam had never been closer to considering strangulation. He elected to shove his hearing ear into his pillow instead.

Unfortunately, the muffled sounds of Gansey speaking still made their way in. “‘Photos: Adam’s Weekend in England,’ oh, that’s boring…ah-hah: ‘New Bromance Alert? Pics of FSOTUS and Prince Ronan.’”

Adam resigned himself to his fate and mentally promised himself a giant cup of coffee. “As long as I’m getting fewer death threats on Twitter, I’m happy,” he mumbled into his blankets.

Gansey ignored him. “Why are you so tired? It’s the hour of kings, time to be awake and alive.”

“I’d settle for dead if it meant I could sleep at this point, to be frank.”

“Please don’t be frank. Be Adam.”

Adam sat up, eyeing Gansey in his wire-framed glasses with disdain. “Any more puns and I suffocate myself with this pillow.”

“Please don’t,” Gansey said, but his eyes had already returned to his screen. While he read through the articles, he continued his line of questioning. “Working on the campaign late last night?”

“Not really,” Adam admitted. “I had a Press and the Presidency paper to write.”

“Just write ‘I’m Adam Parrish’ on a piece of loose-leaf paper to turn it in and you’ll probably get an A. You live it every day, for Christ’s sake.”

“And yet I still need to cite sources in Chicago Advanced.”

“You’d think nepotism would work out more in your favor.” He flicked to a fresh article, a gesture Adam only recognized from all the other times Gansey had done it. “Luckily, I think the press is eating this one up.”

Adam grimaced. “Fantastic.”

“Not-campaign-ruining, you mean.”

“That too, I suppose.” He wanted nothing more than to flop back against his pillows and get the sleep his body so desperately craved after being jet lagged for a week, but he fought the urge.

“That _ People _exclusive takes the cake, I think. I didn’t realize how much you cherished your relationship with Ronan.”

“Fuck off, please. Or end my misery.”

“No to both. Why are you even taking that press course?”

Adam slid out from under his blankets, rolling his shoulders to try and wake up more. “Curiosity, I guess. It never hurts to learn more of what not to do.”

Gansey looked up from his phone to level a glance at Adam. “And what have you learned so far?”

“…Don’t have a sex scandal?”

“You _ would _need someone to tell you that.”

_ “Hey,” _Adam said, affecting outrage.

Gansey lifted his thumb to run over his lower lip, tilting his head consideringly. “One of us three will probably have a scandal before your mother’s second term is up.”

“If there is a second.”

“Chin up, young padawan. With you working on it we’re guaranteed.”

“I don’t know, Gansey,” Adam replied. “I don’t think I’m the good luck charm you believe in.”

“Of course you are,” Gansey said. “We won the first time, no?”

Adam glanced exaggeratedly around the room and to the phone in Gansey’s hand. “I’d say so. That or we’re about to get questioned very thoroughly about the the events of last three years.”

“Don’t make me cut you off on the true-crime videos.”

His eyes narrowed, focusing on Gansey. “Don’t you dare.”

“Blue agrees, anyway,” Gansey said, successfully deflecting topics. “Said there’s a ninety-four percent chance you’ll get into a sex scandal before the general.”

“Both of you date more than I do, why am I the one who’s supposedly having a sex scandal?” Once his initial outrage passed, disbelief crept in at the time of day. “Did you just text Blue at five AM and get a response? How the hell did you manage that?”

“She’s been up,” Gansey dismissed. Adam stared at him for a moment, and then Gansey seemed to feel the weight of his stare. His eyes widened almost comically. “Oh, Christ, no, not that. Nate Silver asked for another set of eyes on the Superbowl predictions, and she’s trying to get a shoo-in with them before the primaries begin. I just brought her some coffee.”

“And you didn’t bring me any?”

“You’re the only one of us who hasn’t been up all night. You need coffee the least of all of us.”

“Don’t blame me for your bad decisions.” Adam squinted at Gansey. “Were you working on an article all night or something?”

He snorted. “Hardly. They’ve been blocking all of my pieces. Too far from my mother’s politics, too far from your mother’s, too controversial, too critical, all in that order.”

“Thought you were liking the _ Post _gig?”

“On paper,” Gansey dismissed. “I’ve defaulted to writing about Welsh history.”

“Sounds like it’s right up your alley, then.”

“Once again, on paper.”

“How do you even connect the Welsh to the hellscape of American politics?”

Gansey waved a hand. “‘Eternal spirit,’ ‘fighting for honor,’ ‘remembering Glendower and others who set a pristine model,’ et cetera, et cetera.”

“People read that? That just sounds like you in high school spouting off again.”

“Yes, Adam. People read it.” Gansey squinted at his phone again. “Twitter _ really _likes you and Ronan together.”

“We’re exciting,” Adam said dryly, reaching for his laptop. He scanned over his most recent paper while Gansey dramatically narrated replies to the gif of them on _ This Morning. _

“‘Either of them could stab me and give me one of those smiles and I’d thank them,’ Jesus Christ,” Gansey read, “They really love your fake smiles… ‘name a more iconic duo, I’ll wait,’ hm, maybe any other duo? ‘Oh my God, just _ kiss already.’” _

Adam choked out a laugh as Gansey punctuated the last one with a dramatic and uncharacteristic hand wave. “At least it’s working,” he allowed, shutting his laptop once he felt secure about his essay. “Now get out. _ Some _of us have places to be.”

Adam’s phone buzzed on his way out of his cursed Presidency and the Press course.

Somehow, the interest of those around him seemed to pique even higher when he looked at his phone instead of in front of him. It wasn’t a new sensation by any means; ever since starting at Georgetown, he’d felt eyes on him constantly, but the intensity increased tenfold each time his classmates thought he was too occupied to see them staring. He noticed every time, but of course nothing could be done about it.

The name _ HRH shitty bird boy _ popped across his screen. How strange - in only a week, he’d almost entirely forgotten that the name he had (quite maturely) given Ronan in his phone was… _ that. _As he swiped the notification open, he felt a certain amount of trepidation as to what a technology-averse prince would ever text him about.

His harassment and emergency fears flew out the window with the body of the text, simply a screenshot of their tabloid appearance with the added caption of _ youre the nerd and I’m the cool jock. _

_ Competitive yachting? _Adam asked in response, nearly tripping over his own feet while typing.

_ ffs i told them to stop writing that as my preferred sport. _

Adam felt his lips twist against his will.

_ I’m sorry, this is a common problem? _

_ you can’t even imagine. _

_ I appreciate that they consider competitive yachting a regal sport. _

_ status symbols and faux athleticism are the core of the monarchy. _

Adam blinked down at his phone, stopping short abruptly. Persephone, from behind him, adjusted accordingly.

He…hadn’t been expecting this. Any of it. The text, the almost-joking response, the casual statement about the monarchy being ridiculous despite him being in it. Their conversation ended there, and it was probably for the better. He resumed his pace, trying to get to his next class. He almost forgot about the texts, too; save for a rogue screenshot Adam sent him of speculation on Ronan’s presence in Majorca, nothing else went between them.

Sometimes, Adam could _ just barely _ get away with being on his phone during briefings with Maura. He hated to be distracted during them - they were _ important, _he knew that, but all the same occasionally she spent a particularly long time covering an obscure dignitary’s comments and he’d gotten too few hours of sleep to truly focus and someone or other was blowing up his phone.

Maura’s topic of conversation this week appeared to be a series of Buzzfeed articles run on the lack of pets in the First Family, complete with a power point dissecting their points

The glamorous side of politics, truly. Discussing a clickbait series in the West Wing briefing room.

_ iMessage chat to _ ** HRH shitty bird boy **

_ Resumed 30 October, 2019, 1:47 pm _

_ if you want a pet chainsaw dragged in a mouse the other day _

_ Ah yes, the mouse. A pet eternally beloved by constituents. _

_ we can’t all have a raven, that would be unfair _

_ Your heights of cool and goth are truly dizzying. _

_ im glad you agree _

_ Modest, too. _

_ it comes with the wealth and fame _

_ As long as you’re being straight with me, feel free to be as ‘modest’ as you like. _

_ i’m the prince of bloody england. i’m straight all the damn time _

_ That’s the biggest lhxemxlp_

His phone slipped from between his fingers, landing with a dull _ thud _onto the wooden floor. Adam stared helplessly at it, a sleek black rectangle hiding between types of oak. But Maura repeated his name, and he suddenly remembered what had made him drop his phone in the first place. He dragged his eyes up, staring at a spot on the sterile white wall just beyond Maura’s head.

“Adam,” she said a third time, but he refused to look her in the eyes. She conceded immediately. “What the hell?”

He felt his cheeks darken as blood found its way up. “I’m sorry.”

Her lips thinned just like Blue’s did, turning into a dark line on her brown face. “Do you even remember what I was saying?”

“Er…” he scrambled. “Don’t mention animals in any public setting?”

She looked at him for a long moment, then picked up a mug of coffee and took a controlled sip.

“Get out?” she said once she’d swallowed her sip.

“I-”

She pointed to the door. “I am impossibly busy. Take your phone and go laugh in private.”

He nodded once, finally, ducking under the table with his spine pressed against the bottom to grab his phone. His fingers closed around it, grip the edge of the wood, and he was up in a second.

He couldn’t regret it.

Because - well, here was the weird thing.

He wanted another text from Ronan.

_ iMessage chat to _ ** HRH shitty bird boy **

_ Resumed 31 October, 2019, 12:03 am _

_ it’s finally spooky day in your hell country _

_ Isn’t it 5 am in England? _

_ Do you ever sleep? _

_ bold of you to ask that question _

_ halloween, bitch _

_ it waits for no one _

_ I’m really going to have to advocate better habits. _

_ I understand, you’re enthused for Halloween. _

_ do you even care at all _

_ I enjoy halloween like everyone else. _

_ Though your level of excitement feels a little pagan? _

when the skeleton army rises Jesus will forgive me

_ appreciate this glorious day parrish _

_ I have enough fear in my daily life, thanks. _

_ I filed my own taxes all throughout highschool. _

_ And payed rent. _

_ The horrors of early adulthood. _

_terrifying _

_ terrible i’ll never deal with that shit _

_ You’re the prince, we know. _

_ Do you also not have enough horror in your life? _

of course i do

_ but parrish. listen. _

_ this is the one day a year all the monarchy and parliament dress as they are in life _

_ hideous monsters _

He laughed a little harder at that than he should have.

_ You’re telling me the monarchy plays dress up. _

_ ronan_frankensteins_monser_costume.jpg _

_ matthew insisted. did this on me an hour ago _

_ oh my god _

The makeup _ was _really good, and the monstrous look suited him, but hell if Adam ever said that to him.

He may have saved it to his phone, though, to glimpse Ronan’s green-paint covered skin and crooked, drawn-on stitch smile on his perfectly blank face.

Although Adam certainly didn’t intend to make a habit of texting the Prince of England, when he saw a funny bird or a stupid article or an obscure meme his first thought became _I should send that to Ronan. _And Ronan, clearly, was thinking along the same lines. The sheer number of sole emojis that seemed to tell a Ronan-centric story he received at all hours only affirmed that. And somehow, between all the pictogramme and jokes, he started to learn snatches of information. Declan was a better storyteller than Ronan, Matthew was the only person who could make Ronan attend family dinners ever since their father died, and his mother - the Queen of England, Adam had to remind himself sometimes - drew further away every day.

The problem became that he always wanted to know _ more, _and Adam didn’t know if that was due to his rampant curiosity or something else buried deep inside of him, and he was too afraid of what he might uncover by digging to look.

Adam had very few friends.

Most of that came with the territory of being part of the First Family; nothing made casual acquaintances drift away quite like being constantly surveilled by Secret Service agents and trailed by NDAs. Adam didn’t have time for small talk and coffee, a fact which he sometimes lamented and often loved. Part of this came from the type of friendship he became accustomed to with Gansey and Blue, the all-encompassing type of friendship that took over their minds in spare moments and forged ties stronger than steel between them. He’d probably forgotten how to have normal, casual friends, not friends an outsider would think he was completely in love with. And, perhaps more than anything else, it came back down to Robert Parrish and his heavy hands and ringing words. Adam’s memories of his first few years were scattered and inconsistent, but they filled up a too-large corner of his brain all the same. Blue, who entered his life at the tender age of 5, had won his trust with greater ease than their other peers, and Gansey had done the same in high school. They knew him and what he’d been through, and so they could (platonically) love him for all that he was. When campaigning and political office came into the mix, that full truth of Adam Parrish became a secret to guard like any else.

But, oddly enough, Adam had a third friend: Noah Czerny, the thirty-three-year-old baby of the Senate.

Noah and Adam met through an Aglionby networking event while Adam was a student and Noah a recently-elected congressperson, both green as grass in different ways. Adam, thrown neck-deep into a Presidential campaign, had questions, and most of the time Noah had answers. Although all of the professors had warned Adam to proceed cautiously with Czerny, Adam found nothing to fear. Noah had mellowed out quite a bit from his high school days, becoming a familiar face at political events and a surprisingly-wise piece of advice always at the ready. Despite Adam’s near hero-worship of this brand-new politician, half-Mexican just like him and just as frequent to lose sleep rewriting policies that unjustly taxed communities of color or defunded children’s education, they’d formed an improbable bond. The summer before his sophomore year, Noah let Adam closer to the politics process than even his mother had as he ran for the Senate, and Adam took to it almost at once. A politician twelve years his senior was perhaps not a conventional choice of friend, but Adam seldom remained conventional.

It wasn’t too out of the ordinary for Adam to arrive at Noah’s congressional office unannounced, either with business or without, and so when Adam rounded on Noah’s stark, bright, white office, he wasn’t at all surprised to see him ducked over an obscene number of papers.

“It’s Friday night,” Noah said without looking up, barely before Adam had even crossed into the office. As always, the tiny burst of color in the Pride flag deposited in a tourist mug drew Adam’s eye for a long moment before Noah himself did. All Adam could see of him was his brown curls, resolutely held in place even as bent over a desk. “Go party or something.”

“Damn, I didn’t _ think _ this looked like a frat. I knew something was off.” Adam slid into one of the seats across the desk. He had several inches on Noah, but he always felt smaller in those chairs across from the most important legislators in the country. “What’s got you here at eight PM?” Off of Noah’s brief, incredulous look, he amended to _ “this _particular time, I know. You’re salaried. Shouldn’t you…ever go home?”

“I’m trying to get something done so that there’s at least a hope of banning fracking in our lifetimes.”

Adam scoffed quietly, though not for lack of faith in Noah. “Let me know when you’ve cracked the code.”

_ “If, _but sure, I’ll be in contact. Now, why are you here?”

“You didn’t answer my leaving-the-building question.”

Noah’s eyes flickered shut briefly. “Jesus, Adam, I am salaried by the taxpayers of millions of Americans. I’m not going to slack on them.”

“Fine, but don’t make me drag Gansey in here to make you take a long nap and drink some hot soup.”

Adam’s phone buzzed, but he ignored it; despite it being almost 1 am in England, Ronan could presumably take the blame. Noah asked, “Did you catch the Fox town hall last night?”

Adam grimaced. He’d seen part of it, trying to multitask with his macroeconomics homework at the same time, but instead he’d fallen asleep with his head on the laptop screen. “Part of it. It was a shitshow.”

“You can say that again.”

“I honestly thought that Whelk would pull more support from the extremists. He just seemed desperate last night.”

“Oh, he definitely was.” Noah leaned away from his desk, appraising Adam as though considering his words carefully. “We went to school together.”

“Aglionby?” Adam asked. He knit his eyebrows together. “How did I not realize he went there?”

“The school doesn’t exactly love toting him.”

“He’s older than you, though, right?”

“Yes, Adam,” Noah said slowly. “I’m thirty-three. He’s already announced a bid for President. How old do you have to be to run for executive office?”

Adam scowled. “I just came from class, I can’t use my brain. He was a senior when you were a freshman?”

“Yep,” Noah replied. “We were paired in upperclassmen-lowerclassmen bonding.” His lip curled a little. “He outed me.”

“Wait, _ what?” _

“He outed me to the school,” Noah repeated. He looked back down to the papers on his desk, his voice softening to a barely audible level. “I trusted him, which was a dumb thing to do, but I was a really stupid freshman. Scared, too. He was a friendly personality.”

_ “Fuck,” _Adam said, pushing a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry, that’s…”

“Terrible?” A bit of Noah’s life returned to him. “Don’t worry about it, kid. It was years ago.”

“But then…Whelk, he was the reason you…?”

“He didn’t make my parents react the way they did. They did that on their own. But no, they wouldn’t have known without him.”

Adam shook his head. “I thought it wasn’t possible to like the guy less, if only because of his politics, but he’s done it.”

“Done what? Received the full wrath of Adam Parrish?”

“He very well may.”

“Don’t worry about him. Whelk will be out soon, believe me. I know him. He may have his parent’s money, but he’s barely old enough to hold office and he’s running on fumes.”

“If he’s not, I’ll convince Blue to skew stats until he is.” Noah knew just as well as Adam that that wouldn’t change anything, but it lightened the air anyway. “It seems kind of pointless to entertain any of them. Greenmantle is probably going to win no matter what.”

Colin Greenmantle: former antique collector, congressperson from Massachusetts, and millionaire with the funds to take over the Republican primary, and very possibly the whole election, before any papers were even filed.

“It’s early,” Noah said. “Too early to worry about it. Too early to even be _ talking _ about it.”

Adam slanted a half-smile at him. “Never too early to worry about an election.”

Noah looked back to his papers before broaching the next topic. “I hear you’ve got a job on your mother’s re-election campaign.”

“Once I graduate, and maybe a little earlier, yeah.”

Noah cast a glance around the office. “Are you sure this is the life you want?”

Adam knew he was referring to the constant bustle, the fear of disappointing and harming instead of helping, and the ever-evolving media scrutiny. He knew it was the closest Noah would give to a warning. “I’m sure.”

Noah sighed. “Fine.” He pointed to the door. “But I won’t let you throw your youth away, not this early. After you graduate, Parrish. Go get drunk and make out with someone.”

Adam stood, his frame unfolding and standing tall. “You are a terrible role model.”

“Can’t hear you over the loud music.”

“You and Blue and Gansey - if I die of alcohol poisoning, it’s all your fault.”

“Feel free to blame, so long as you’re out there and not here.”

“Alright, alright, Jesus. You’ve made your point.”

“Finally,” Noah called after Adam’s retreating form. But Adam could hear the amusement in his voice all the same.

For someone so allergic and averse to technology, Ronan sure seemed to share a lot with Adam.

_ iMessage chat to _ ** HRH shitty bird boy **

_ Resumed 13 Novemeber, 2019, 8:38 pm _

_ bird.m4a _

_ she wont stop nuzzling my head?? _

_ Picking for lice, probably. _

_ God knows you have so many. _

_ my scalp is perfectly clean _

_ Forgive me for abstaining from running my hands over it all the same. _

_ I’ll leave that to her. _

He didn’t always respond, though.

Adam tried not to read into it.

(He mostly succeeded.)

Adam never tired of stepping into the Oval Office. On the Wednesday right before Thanksgiving, he stepped in with the same amount of awe he always had, allowing himself a single moment to glance around at the wide windows and perfectly upholstered furniture. He sat on one of the couches without preamble.

His mother looked up from what was in front of her on the desk and smiled, albeit a tired one that frayed a bit at the corners; Adam had seen a few particularly troublesome foreign dignitaries be escorted away not long before, so he didn’t have to guess at the reason. Ana looked like she belonged to sit right there amongst all the history at that desk, from the sun dipping just beneath her halo of hair straightened within an inch of its life and her stick-straight posture. It might have been a lot at times, but seeing her was a reminder of all the good that came from her position.

She rose and walked to join him, her heels clacking lightly at the ground before she sank onto the cushion beside him and pulled him into a loose hug. Adam had overtaken Ana in height some years before, but there had been a long gap in there as he grew - like one day he was three and a half feet tall and wrapped tightly in her arms and the next he was off to Georgetown and several heads taller. She pulled away after a minute, slowly and bit-by-bit as though savoring her moments as a mother rather than a president. Her hand reached to muss his hair a moment later, and Adam ducked away instinctively before exchanging an identical grin with her.

“God, I forgot how light your hair looks in here,” she said, leaning back a little. “Almost golden.” She tilted her head as though examining him. “Nah. Still brown. But much lighter.”

“How could you forget? The photo here was in _ GQ, _the same article that first declared me the family golden boy.” At the corner of their conversation was the knowledge of where he’d inherited that hair color, as it sure as hell wasn’t from Ana. But he let the thought stay buried, patting the dirt back down with the shovel himself. Their relationship always had an absence in it, and he didn’t particularly feel like deepening it in the Oval Office.

“Ah, so that’s the one I have to blame for your big head,” she responded, reaching for a piece of fruit from the little coffee table. It was a familiar half-jest, borne from Adam’s constant contradicting confidence and imposter syndrome. Idiosyncrasies were just Adam’s style, never one to make things easy for himself. He sometimes wondered if so much of himself conflicted because he tried to walk the middle road so often, balancing his weight over all sides to minimize the damage if the rug was yanked from beneath him, like lying down on a bed of nails: a thousand tiny, dull pains over one sharp, potentially fatal puncture. She smiled again. “Is Noah doing well?”

“For Noah he is. He would barely look up from some new reports on fracking, seems hopeful he’ll be able to garner enough support.”

Ana snorted. “Good luck with that. I’ll be shocked if it reaches the floor for debate.”

“That makes three of us, then.” He nodded towards the desk. “Bad meeting?”

The frown lines on her face deepened. “Don’t get me started,” she drawled, falling back fully against the cushions. After only a moment, she _ did _ get started regardless of what Adam did or didn’t do. “We received the memo a few days ago that a delegation from Sweden wanted to be in contact, right? Fairly standard stuff, Maura gets back to them quickly because they worded it like it was an urgent matter, and there’s a back and forth for a while about scheduling and accommodations. We’re of the belief they won’t be out here until Monday at the earliest.”

Adam knit his eyebrows together. “It’s not Monday.”

“You fuckin’ tell me. Anyway, I’m halfway through a meeting with a few UN representatives when Maura has to interrupt. They arrived at the White House, claimed they had a meeting, and just…didn’t leave. Evan Maura couldn’t get through to them, which is the thing that scared me a little.”

“You should have put Calla on it.”

“Believe me, if she were here, I would’ve. But as it was, I had to hurry out the UN members to deal with decidedly more antagonistic foreign relations.”

“Why were they even here?”

“They wanted to discuss the military relationship between our countries-”

“What the hell?”

“Yeah, I don’t know,” she said, waving one hand in dismissal. “Any points they were trying to make went straight out the window when they started pulling out cue cards, to be honest. I might have to call Löfven to smooth things over.”

“Well, there’s never a dull moment,” Adam said fairly. His mother snorted.

“Sure isn’t. Anyway,” she said, glancing at her watch, “it’s now Thanksgiving, so no more meetings for twenty-four hours.”

“It’s Wednesday.”

She pulled a face in dismissal. “We take our patriotism seriously, darlin’. Don’t want our home state gettin’ too mad.”

“Of course.”

Ana checked her watch again. “The turkeys will be on their way to the Willard by now, so we’re not ruining any American traditions today.”

“Wait,” Adam said. “Where?”

She looked at him, her eyes narrowing. “The Willard. They stay there every year.”

“What? No. _ No. _You cannot give the turkeys five-star accommodations with taxpayer dollars. You’ve been doing this every year?!”

“It’s public knowledge, sugar. Every news outlet mentions it.”

“How did I not-” Adam cut off. “There is no way you can do that! They’re turkeys! It’s a waste!”

“It’s precedent, Adam. I’m not sure if there’s anything to be done at this point.”

Adam stood quickly, pacing back and forth, and his mother stood behind him. “It’s a _ blatant _waste of money, I’m shocked we haven’t already been-”

“Hon, every president so far has done the same-”

“Imagine the story if we broke the tradition! Even conservatives would have to applaud your frugality-”

“We can’t play games with tradition, you know they already call us disrespectful-”

“-we can’t be using _ taxpayer money-” _

“-by all means, if you have the time to find lodging for two forty-pound turkeys-”

“Put them in my room!” Adam blurted. His mother stopped short.

“You’re not serious,” she said. “We’re not putting the turkeys for me to pardon in your bedroom.”

“Yes, we are.”

“Adam-”

He shifted his feet, coming to a stop. He lifted himself up to his full height. Debate Captain Adam, six-time Best Delegate Adam, and First Son Adam converged into one. His mother barely looked phased.

“Oh, God,” his mother said. “I can’t listen to another sales pitch.”

“Madame President,” Adam began, “I’d like to echo the sentiments of the forebears before me-”

“Nope,” she said, making double-time back to her desk. “You’re not going to filibuster me.”

“In 2018 alone, at least forty-three articles in the Wall Street Journal accused the sitting administration of wasting tax dollars. This came on the heels of a tax increase for Americans making more than ten million dollars per year and the subsequent pushback from a more conservative electorate in Congress.”

“Fine!” Ana said, her hand falling to the desk with a thump. She brought it back up to her head to massage her temple a moment later. “I’m too tired to hear my own history read back at me. You win.”

He sat back down on the couch, crossing his legs primly. “Perfect,” he said, allowing himself to smile once again.

23 notes · View notes

smelly-cassettes · 5 years ago

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Just some of my favorite things from The Raven Cycle

Ronan throwing Noah out of a 2 story window

“She wore a dress Ronan thought looked like a lampshade. Whatever sort of lamp it belonged on, Gansey clearly wished he had one. Ronan wasn’t a fan of lamps.” We get it ur gay

Ronan making everyone press a barn mouse to their cheek

Boat day?? Everyone wanting to find weird shit in the lake but Blue and Orla–the ones who care about the Glendower mystery the least–diving in to make everyone else shut up

Or maybe Blue just being jealous of Orla

Kavinsky having a secret crush on Ronan

Ronan kissing Adam

Adam being Ronan’s first kiss

Ronan smiling endlessly after kissing Adam

Did I mention that Ronan and Adam kiss

Blue and Ronan calling each other “asshole” in a positive way

Blue and Ronan having a sibling relationship

The little touches that blue and Gansey have bc they can’t kiss so they touch in every other way

henry cheng being rich and kinda smart but also really fucking stupid

but also kinda charming yk

CHAPTER 61 OF TRK BEING AN AUDITORY CHAPTER

if you don’t get that one I suggest you reread chapter 61 of trk

anyways reblog and add more if you’d like

#trc #the raven cycle #trk #trb #gansey #richard gansey III #adam parrish #ronan lynch #pynch #blue sargent #bluesy #noah czerny #henry cheng

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a-dandelion-dreamer · 4 years ago

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Word Wanderings Post #1 – The Raven Boys by Maggie Stiefvater

This is the beginning of a reread. I’ve loved this author for years and The Raven Cycle is a particular favourite of mine. Please note that if you haven’t read this book, this post will definitely contain spoilers!

The Raven Boys is the first book in a quartet and juggles a multitude of characters, including our four main characters (Gansey, Ronan, Adam and Blue) and our plus one (Noah). While it does have some external conflict, it is mainly driven by the characters and their relationships with one another. This book is complex and dense with detail, with a structure that is a little unusual. Most books or series have a driving hook that catches readers right at the beginning and is the selling tagline. For example, in the Percy Jackson series by Rick Riordan, it’s Percy finding out he’s secretly a demigod, which directly turns into monsters attacking him and his mom disappearing. In the Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins, it’s the existence of a game that forces children to fight to the death and then subsequently Katniss volunteering to take her sister’s place at the Reaping. In Six of Crows, it’s a crew of six misfits embarking upon an impossible heist.

Ostensibly, the hook of this book is that Blue is destined to kill her true love with a kiss. That’s what it says on the back of the book, and it’s certainly an overarching threat present for the rest of the series. Tied in as well is Gansey’s search for Glendower, a sleeping king Gansey believes is buried somewhere on a ley line. This is another whole-series thread. The real heart of the story, however, is the boys and Blue and their friendship and their interactions with the other messy pieces of their lives and their search to find meaning and happiness. This type of storytelling is not for everyone, especially those who might enjoy more action-driven tales, but it’s the kind of storytelling I love.

(And in writing and other personal creative projects, I think it’s important to let what you love drive you forwards).

Here are three points I took away from reading this book:

Point #1: Keeping readers interested by embedding small mysteries

The trick is to make your readers want to know what happens next. This is something I have trouble with and therefore I’m particularly interested in seeing how other books handle it.

Each chapter in this book is written from a different character’s perspective. I’ll include the first and last lines (which I think are brilliantly done) in the form: (first line/last line). Following that, I’ll describe some mysteries that the chapter raises.

Prologue: Blue (“Blue Sargent had forgotten how many times she’d been told that she would kill her true love.”/”’You’re Maura’s daughter,’ Neeve said, and before Blue could answer, she added, “this is the year you’ll fall in love.’”) – pg. 1-4

We’re introduced to the idea that Blue will kill her true love if she kisses him

Which immediately raises the question: who is he? And how does she get from being determined not to fall in love to killing someone with a kiss?

We learn about Blue’s psychic family, which I think is super interesting

Blue’s half-aunt Neeve comes to town and really hits us with that: “This is the year you’ll fall in love.” Pay attention, that line says.

Chapter 1: Blue (“It was freezing in the churchyard, even before the dead arrived.”/“’There are only two reasons a non-seer would see a spirit on St. Mark’s Eve, Blue. Either you’re his true love,’ Neeve said, ‘or you killed him.’”) – pg. 5-16

Blue and Neeve watch for the future dead

Blue, the only non-psychic in her family, sees a spirit for the first time

The guy she’s destined to kill or fall in love with (or both)

His name is Gansey, and now we’re wondering who he is

Chapter 2: Gansey (“’It’s me,’ said Gansey.”/”’That seems obvious,’ he answered. ‘We find out who you were talking to.’”) – pg. 17-28

Brilliant cut to Gansey

This guy is very real and because of the previous scene, we want to know who he is

We learn about his quest, which adds another layer of mystery

Gansey also heard Blue, on his recorder, so now he’s wondering about her

We ask ourselves: how will these two meet?

Also, introduces Gansey’s friends Adam and Ronan

Ronan has a tumultuous relationship with his brother Declan

THEY HAVE A NUMBER FOR A PSYCHIC (guess who belongs to a psychic family)

Chapter 3: Blue (“Mornings at 300 Fox Way were fearful, jumbled things.”/”’Blue,’ Maura said finally. ‘I don’t have to tell you not to kiss anyone, right?’”) – pgs. 29-37

Introduces Blue’s house

Introduces Blue’s relationship with her mother Maura

Neeve scries and learns that something is strange about Henrietta

Again, we wonder how Blue and Gansey will meet. And also, is it possible to save Gansey from his fate?

Chapter 4: Adam (“Adam Parrish had been Gansey’s friend for eighteen months, and he knew that certain things came along with that friendship.”/”’Excelsior’, said Gansey, and shut the door behind them.”) – pg. 38-51

Introduces Monmouth Manufacturing

Delves further into Gansey’s quest (will Gansey find what he’s looking for?)

Adam is suspicious that someone is spying on their search

Develops tension between Ronan and Declan

Chapter 5: Whelk (“Barrington Whelk was feeling less than sprightly as he slouched down the hall of Whitman House, the Aglionby admin building.”/”It was possible that Czerny’s death wasn’t for nothing after all.”) – pg. 52-56

Adam was suspicious in the previous chapter and now here’s Whelk, being suspicious

What is this guy’s deal?

Whelk hears Gansey is researching ley lines and suddenly gets very interested

Who is Czerny and how did he die?

Chapter 6: Blue (“Blue wouldn’t really describe herself as a waitress.”/”Neeve had to be wrong. She’d never fall in love with one of them.”) – pg. 57-64

Blue goes to work at Nino’s, the same place Gansey and his crew are going

Blue’s mother calls: Gansey has scheduled a reading

THEY MEET! This is great. They meet and they both dislike each other. They immediately conflict and neither realizes the other is the person they’re looking for.

The dramatic irony is fantastic

Adam is interested in Blue and Blue is a little bit interested in him

How does Blue end up liking Gansey, who she currently hates?

Truly, a mystery

WHAT WILL HAPPEN WHEN THE TWO MEET AGAIN AT THE PSYCHIC READING???

I could do this for the whole book, but you get the picture. There’s always something the reader is left wondering, even if it’s something small, or a future interaction they’re looking forwards to.

A note: this is particularly effective when it’s tied to personal agency. You want to see what your characters will do, and this means more if you have dynamic characters who make choices.

Point #2: Atmosphere and memorable locations

Another big strength of this book is the personality that it imbues its settings with. Take three examples: 300 Fox Way, Monmouth Manufacturing and Cabeswater.

300 Fox Way – the chaotic, full-to-the-brim house where Blue lives with her mom and her aunt and her mom’s two best friends Persephone and Calla and a multitude of other psychic women, all showcased through background details. I love this house and its aesthetic.

Quote: “Mornings at 300 Fox Way were fearful, jumbled things. Elbows in sides and lines for the bathroom and people snapping over tea bags placed into cups that already had tea bags in them. There was school for Blue and work for some of the more productive (or less intuitive) aunts. Toast got burned, cereal went soggy the refrigerator door hung open and expectant for minutes at a time. Keys jingled as car pools were hastily decided.” – pg 29

Monmouth Manufacturing – the abandoned factory that Gansey, Ronan and Noah have made their home. They live on the upper floor and the description of the space really doubles as a character portrait for Gansey. Use settings to reveal and further describe your characters!

Quote: “The high ceiling soared above them, exposed iron beams holding up the roof. Gansey’s invented apartment was a dreamer’s laboratory. The entire second floor, thousands of square feet, spread out before them. Two of the walls were made up of old windows—dozens of tiny, warped panes, except for a few clear ones Gansey had replaced—and the other two walls were covered with maps: the mountains of Virginia, of Wales, of Europe. Marker lines arced across each of them. Across the floor, a telescope peered at the Western sky; at its feet lay piles of arcane electronics meant to measure magnetic activity.

And everywhere, everywhere, there were books. Not the tidy stacks of an intellectual attempting to impress, but the slumping piles of a scholar obsessed. Some of the books weren’t in English. Some of the books were dictionaries for the languages that some of the other books were in. Some of the books were actually Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Editions.” – pg 41

Cabeswater — a magical, sentient forest. I love this forest so much. I love the overall portrayal of magic in this series and this forest is my favourite example of that. The trees speak Latin, time is fluid and sometimes the very air manifests your thoughts, so keep a watch on them.

Quote: “The stream trickled sluggishly out of the woods from between two diamond-barked dogwoods. With Gansey in the lead, they all followed the water into the trees. Immediately, the temperature dropped several degrees. Blue hadn’t realized how much insect noise there was in the field until it was replaced by occasional birdsong under the trees. This was a beautiful, old wood, all massive oak and ash trees finding footing among great slabs of cracked stone. Ferns sprang from rocks and verdant moss grew up the sides of the tree trunks. The air itself was scented with green and growing and water. The light was golden through the leaves. Everything was alive, alive.” – pg 219

What can I take away from this? Using small, specific details to make a setting unique and memorable can add atmosphere to your novel, showcase characters and make a reader fall in love with a particular place.

Point #3: Evolving arcs

This story contains a lot of interwoven plot threads. This can be hard to balance (I know from personal experience) but I think this novel pulls it off. It’s very, very good at doing many things at once. The important thing to think about is a beginning, middle and end for different story arcs that you introduce. Here’s one example (of many) from this book.

Example 1: Noah

Oh Noah. Noah is a brilliant example of an arc in this book and also one of my favourite demonstrations of the fact that sometimes you can hide things right in the open.

First mention (pg. 26). Noah goes out for pizza with the crew, but there is no mention of him going to school or otherwise having a life. This theme will continue: while Gansey, Adam, Ronan and Blue have conflict and fleshed-out internal worlds, Noah is a static character. The first time I read this book, I was like Gansey. I didn’t notice how much Noah was missing until it was explicitly called out.

First line of dialogue: “I’ve been dead for seven years,” Noah said. “That’s as warm as they get.” (pg. 47) (IT’S RIGHT THERE, but yet I didn’t pick up on it. Clever, clever.)

Noah’s room is also described as ‘meticulous’. As in, practically unused.

“Noah, we won’t make you eat,” says Gansey. “Need some more alone time?” says Ronan. More little hints.

The character descriptions are honestly so good, worth a study all in themselves.

Noah doesn’t come to the psychic’s reading or the helicopter trip, which the other boys do

Somehow, he has a canny knack for knowing things and sharing secrets.

“Don’t throw it away.” (pg. 165) (to Gansey)

Gansey calls for Noah but he’s not there (pg. 233)

“Blue permitted Noah to pet the crazy tufts of her hair” (pg. 238). Not particularly arc related but SUPER CUTE.

The gang visits Cabeswater again and finds Noah’s old abandoned car, a red Mustang (not that they realize it yet). In the trunk is a dowsing rod, a sign someone else is looking for ley lines. Noah throws up (from the trauma of his murder).

Blue and Gansey visit the old church and find a body. “The face on the driver’s license was Noah’s.” (pg. 274)

THE BIG SCENE IN WHICH NOAH IS REVEALED AS A GHOST (what a brilliant scene)

“Adam,” he demanded, “what is Noah’s last name?”

“Tell me,” Gansey said, “which classes you share with Noah.”

“When does he eat? Have you ever seen him eat?”

“Does he pay rent? When did he move in? Have you ever questioned it?”

These are all questions Gansey asks his friends, but are also questions we must ask ourselves. We have been fooled in the same way as they have.

“I told you,” Noah said. “I told everyone.” (pg. 278)

“The question is: Who killed you?” (pg. 279)

Noah acts like a real ghost (disappears, reappears, knocks objects off desks)

“Maybe moving it off the ley line had stolen his energy.” (pg. 298) (in regards to Noah’s body)

Noah appears, using Blue’s energy. “I want you to know,” Noah said, “I was…more…when I was alive.” (pg. 305)

“You were the sacrifice, weren’t you Noah? Someone killed you for this.” (pg. 307). It turns out Noah, the friend they didn’t realize was dead, was killed in a ritual similar to the one that is attempted at the end of the novel by their Latin teacher, and is the reason Gansey is alive.

Remember: “Someone else on the ley line is dying when they should not, and so you will live when you should not.” (pg. 271).

It’s all very circular and interwoven and very good plotting.

Noah said, “But you already know.” (pg. 309) (In regards to who killed him) JUMPCUTS to a scene with Whelk

“I’m going to fix Noah. Somehow.” (pg. 335) (says Gansey)

She allowed him to pet her hair with his icy fingers. “Not so spiky as usual,” he said sadly. (pg. 353)

“Don’t throw it away,” Noah whispered. (pg. 371) To Adam, this time.

Noah warns Gansey that Adam is gone (he is now 100% a spooky ghost boy)

THE MURDERED/REMEMBERED SCENE (breaks my heart). They’re all in Cabeswater again for the climax of the novel and Noah, who doesn’t exist in bodily form, traces words into the dust on his old car

Noah’s funeral: “Please say something to them.” / “Mrs. Czerny, he’s sorry for drinking your birthday schnapps.” (pg. 406-407) (ouch, my heart)

They dig up his bones and rebury them on the ley line

“Can we go home? This place is so creepy.” … ”Noah!” Gansey cried gladly. Blue hurled his arms around his neck. He looked alarmed, and then pleased, and then he pet the tufts of her hair. (pg 408)

Broadly, the arc looks like this (look how actions lead to consequences which lead to further actions):

The boys have a friend named Noah, who is sometimes there and sometimes not

LOTS OF FORESHADOWING

They find Noah’s dead body

They confront Noah and find out he’s a ghost

The police move his bones so he starts acting like a real ghost

They figure out he was used in an attempted ritual and also that their Latin teacher killed him

The dig up his bones and rebury them on the ley line

Noah comes back

Given what happens later in this series, it’s very important to me that we remember Noah.

In conclusion

What this book does well:

Keeping readers interested by embedding small mysteries

Atmosphere and memorable locations

Evolving arcs

These are just a few things I noticed on my read-through of The Raven Boys. Stay tuned for further Word Wanderings posts and feel free to give suggestions for books you’d like me to analyze!

Personal Challenge: Pick a book you’re currently reading or an old favorite and try to figure out what keeps you reading, whether it’s little mysteries, character dilemmas or rising tension.

#the raven cycle #trc #maggie stiefvater #the raven boys #writing #writing advice #writers on tumblr #blue sargent #noah czerny #gansey #adam parrish #ronan lynch #word wanderings #my post

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100storiesin2020 · 5 years ago

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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."

#a chainsaw in fox tower #all for the game #the raven cycle #aftg #TRC #pynch #chapter 5 #blue and ronan are bros

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blueseyforthesoul · 5 years ago

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roses are red, lilies are blue...

idk what to call this flower shop au

written for the bonus prompt of @ganseyweek: Bright Colors/Dark shadows/It’s hard not to love you

thank you to everyone for following along with the gansey week fics (and that one art). i just really love gansey, okay?

If you enjoyed the works, please consider leaving me a ko-fi?

The man was thumbing at his lower lip as he looked at the displays of premade bouquets, looking between each of them and never picking one up. Eventually, Blue took pity on him and stepped out from behind the counter where she had been working on a custom order.

“Can I help you find something?”

He looked up and flashed a smile she could tell he found charming.

“Yes! I’m looking for a bouquet for my mother. It’s her birthday, and my sister insists I need to bring a gift. I told her my presence was a gift but she disagreed. Of course, she bought her a metal plate so what the hell does she know.”

Blue blinked at him.

“Well, for a birthday, this is a nice one. Everyone loves tulips.” She picked up one of the bouquets from the refrigerated case and held it out for inspection. He looked at it for so long she was starting to feel uncomfortable.

“Perfect,” he said, at last, clapping his hands together once. Blue gave a tight smile and took the bouquet to be rung up.

She thought that would be the last she saw of the strange young man, but less than a week later he was back.

(keep reading on ao3 or below)

“My mother loved the bouquet, thank you for helping.”

“You’re welcome,” Blue said.

“Do you make all the arrangements?”

Blue narrowed her eyes. Was this dude about to mansplain her work to her in her own shop? “Yes, it’s all my work. My shop.”

Something in her tone must have shown her wariness because the man backpedaled quickly. “You have quite a good eye for color! It’s all wonderful!”

“Thank you. Can I help you with anything today?”

“Oh, um, yes!” he stammered, eyes flying around the shop. “Something for… a centerpiece!”

“What kind of event?” Blue asked, taking stock of her small assortment of premade centerpieces. Usually those she made custom.

“A family dinner.”

“You need a centerpiece for a family dinner?” She cocked an eyebrow at him.

“Yes,” he said firmly, though his cheeks turned pink. It was kind of cute.

“Alright. Well, I have a few premade ones but otherwise, I’d have to make something custom. It would be a bit more expensive than these but—” she cut off as he waved his hand.

“Not a problem.”

This time both of Blue’s eyebrows went up and she swallowed down a remark about the young man’s flippant dismissal of money. He was a customer. She had to be nice.

It was the worst part of her job.

After he had surveyed the centerpieces and deemed one suitable, seeming not to really care about what it looked like or whether or not it matched his table setting, he waved cheerily and left.

The next day was a Saturday, her busiest, and Noah was behind the counter checking out a woman and her elderly mother for a custom order when the guy came back.

She spared him a glance but then returned to the customer she was helping. When she saw him again, he was chatting pleasantly with Noah as he purchased a simple bouquet of daffodils. The yellow matched the color of the horrendous polo shirt he was wearing.

“Going for a theme?” She asked as she approached the counter, wiping her hands on her apron.

“Jane!” The man exclaimed.

“Excuse me?”

“Well, I don’t know your name, I’ve got to call you something. I’ve always liked the name Jane.” He smiled congenially.

Blue looked a Noah with an incredulous look. Noah hid a giggle in his hand. “Blue, this is Gansey. He says he’s quite smitten with your little shop.”

“Yes you’ve been in a lot the last couple weeks,” she addressed the man, Gansey. “Sudden need for copious amounts of floral arrangements? New girlfriend?”

Gansey’s cheeks turned pink and Blue thought suddenly that the color suited him much better than the yellow of his shirt.

“Just a few things that came up. Does it bother you?”

“Never going to turn away a paying customer,” she winked at him. He blushed darker and stammered as she walked away, swaying her hips just to fluster him. He wouldn’t be the first customer to have a crush on “the flower shop girl”.

When she was free again, he was gone.

“Do you know him?” Noah asked later.

“Who? Gansey?”

Noah nodded.

“No, he’s just been in a few times. He’s cute when he blushes,” she shrugged.

“Blue!” Noah cried out. “You’re messing with a customer because he blushes?”

“So? It’s my shop. And he’s coming in an awful lot for someone who doesn’t like it.”

Noah’s brow furrowed but he dropped it.

Sure enough, Gansey returned two days later with a thin excuse about his desk at work being bare. Blue found him an arrangement in various shades of blue, “so you can remember my name.”

He blushed just as she had intended and stammered something back before rushing from the shop. Blue smiled at him when he stole a look over his shoulder and he smiled back dopily.

Gansey was back that Friday afternoon and Blue decided enough was enough.

“Gansey,” she greeted. “What excuse do you have this time?”

“What?”

“There is no possible way you have yet more need for flowers. So I’m cutting to the chase: what’s your excuse this time?”

Gansey swallowed hard. “What do you know about Welsh kings?”

That was not what Blue expected.

“What?”

“Welsh kings. They’re my area of study. Particularly Owen Glendower, he --”

“Gansey,” she cut him off. “Why are you telling me about Welsh kings?”

“I like them.”

“Ooh-kay,” she said, drawing out the first syllable. “But, you really have nothing else you want to say? No other question you’d rather ask?”

Somehow, his blush darkened even more. “You’re working.”

Blue stared at him for a moment and then smiled. “I’m working.”

“Yes. And some things should not be said to people who are working. Because society dictates that retail workers be nice and accommodating to customers and often don’t feel as though they can say no to certain questions, especially when it’s a male customer asking a female employee and --”

“Gansey,” she cut him off again. “You ramble when you’re nervous don’t you?”

He nodded, his lips pressed firmly shut.

“Would you like to go to dinner? With me?”

“Really?”

“As a date. To be clear.”

“Really?” Gansey asked again, a smile breaking out over his face. “I’d like that a lot.”

“Good,” she smiled back. “You can pick me up at 7:30 tonight.”

Gansey’s eyes widened. “Where?”

“Here,” she said. “I live upstairs.”

“Oh, neat,” he said, then buried his face in his hands.

Blue laughed. “Neat?”

“I don’t know, please just ignore me, I don’t know what I’m saying.”

“But you’re so cute when you blush,” Blue teased and Gansey blushed darker. “Go on, get out of here. I’ve got real customers to make arrangements for. See you tonight.”

“Okay, Jane. See you tonight.” He smiled softly and left the shop, waving shyly as he closed the door behind him.

“Oh my god!” a voice exclaimed behind her.

“Noah!” she spun around. “How much of that did you hear?”

“All of it,” he grinned.

Blue groaned and dropped her head onto her forearms on the counter. “Why are you even here?”

“It’s payday.”

She looked up. “You work in the morning. Couldn’t you come then?”

“But then I wouldn’t get to spy on you and Polo Shirt Gansey the Third,” Noah grinned at her.

“The third?”

“It was on his credit card.”

“What have I done,” Blue deadpanned and Noah giggled.

“He’s cute though, I see it.”

Blue rolled her eyes and went to get his paycheck. By the time she had shooed Noah out, finished her custom orders, rung out the ones being picked up and fridged the ones for the morning, it was closing time. She flipped the lock and the sign and went upstairs.

Staring into her closet, she wondered what to wear to a date with a guy who wore boat shoes. She decided to go extra obnoxious -- just so he would really know what he was signing up for -- and pulled on a homemade crochet dress over strategically ripped jeans and a couple of t-shirts. She slid on a few bangles, added some more clips to her hair, and stomped on her favorite combat boots.

A quick look in the mirror to make sure she was happy with her ensemble and then she went back down to the shop. Gansey was waiting outside the closed door and looking nervously at the people walking by. Blue crossed the shop and flipped the lock, stepping out onto the sidewalk.

“Hi,” he breathed. “You look lovely.”

“Thank you, you look nice yourself.” He had changed from his bright pink polo shirt into a more muted button-down and had added some product to his hair.

“I wasn’t sure what to bring, normally I would bring flowers to a first date but that seemed ridiculous and then I thought maybe a book? But I don’t know what you like to read, so --”

“Gansey,” Blue cut in again, laughing. “You’ve got to relax. It’s alright. Here, I have an idea.”

She opened the shop door again, not having locked up yet, and snagged a single daisy stem from the case. She stepped back out onto the sidewalk and reached up to tuck it behind his ear.

“Now we’ve got flowers.” Gansey blushed and Blue locked the door behind her. “Shall we?”

Gansey crooked his elbow out to her and she grinned at him, looping her arm through his and heading off down the sidewalk.

#flowershop au #gansey week #bluesey #fluff #blue sargent #gansey #noah czerny is a chirpy little shit

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fleurdehivers · 6 years ago

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who’s the true protagonist of trc?

okay, this is inspired by an old deleted post by, and a later conversation with @lynchlesbian about the “adam parrish and his band of merry men” line by the gray man, and us wondering what the fandom consensus is on who the real protagonist of the series is and why. i think mstief did a decent job of putting alll of them on the same level narratively speaking, or at least giving them the same amount of space, so a case could probably be made for all four characters and no option would be wrong a priori.

i’ll put the rest under the cut, because this is going to be a little long.

i still wanted to try and break this down with a more thorough analysis. so, i think we should start by the definition of what a protagonist is: the term comes from ancient greek drama and literally means “first actor”, in the sense that the protagonist was literally the character that made the first appearance on the stage and was the focal point of the story. i consulted a number of websites and they all seem to agree on the fact that for most of history and in most cases a protagonist is also the hero, simply defined as the character we hope to see “win”, and the main character of the story. but sometimes the three do not coincide, and there begin the problems, because if they’re not one and the same we need to define separately what a protagonist and a main character are. and academia apparently hasn’t got a single and unanimous outlook on the matter, which makes things a little confusing.

the main character is easier to classify:

it is either the character from whose perspective the story is written (sometimes this is also called the “point-of-view” character – in this instance gansey, blue, adam and ronan are all unequivocally main characters)

or simply the character with the most screen time (again, all four are main characters)

but, as defined in this article, usually a main character is also a character who experiences inner conflicts, and how said character resolves those conflicts often determines how the external conflict is resolved; to avoid confusion, i will call this case that of a “central character”

the protagonist is where things get muddier:

it is the person who opposes the antagonist (this is easy, they’re all protagonists again, save for tdt maybe, where ronan is the protagonist and the other are all co-protagonists)

it is, mainly, the character who is the primary pursuer of the story goal, which affects or involves most of the characters and its the source of external conflict; often the protagonist tries to persuade the other character to follow them in pursuing the goal

it can be the person who drives the plot, the one who makes decisions, who makes things happen and creates action; one writer suggested here that greg, the father of the family, is the protagonist of little miss sunshine because he drives the story forward by driving the car. i don’t necessarily agree with this interpretation, it feels somewhat simplistic, but there you go

it’s also a character that undergoes change, emotional, intellectual and/or spiritual growth, and travels from a point a to a point b, either literally or figuratively; at the end of the story they’re often wiser, more nuanced, better or just changed people

now that we have our definitions, we can start applying them to the characters.

let’s start by the most obvious one, i.e. gansey. if you want my straightforward opinion, gansey is the protagonist of the story; it’s not the answer my heart wants to give, but it’s the one that makes most sense to me. all characters are involved in the main plot, but gansey is the one clear pursuer of the story goal and the focal point of the story. whilst reading, the questions we’re supposed to ask ourselves are, will he find his dead welsh king? will he survive? why was he brought back to life the first time anyway? and, of course, he is the unspoken leader of the gangsey. and when someone challenges that leadership, he acts hurt and offended, like for the most part of tdt where he shuts adam out and feels betrayed by him. actually, in his words, the betrayal feels worse than if it had come from ronan, because evidently gansey wasn’t expecting adam of all people to discuss his central role in their quest. but. BUT. as per our precedent definitions, the protagonist is supposed to change and grow as the story progresses and this doesn’t seem to be gansey’s case. in fact, one could almost say that his main character flaw is his inability to change. he starts at one point in the story and he finishes in the exact same spot. the narrative denies him the possibility to become a better person and rectify his mistakes. and he’s also not always, perhaps not for the most part, the person driving the plot forward, making decisions and creating action.

in fact, that role could be fulfilled by adam or ronan. adam is the first character to create action, because a) he’s the one asking blue out and therefore making their fates intertwine, and b) he’s the one who convinces gansey to go to the psychics about glendower. he also jumpstarts the narrative by waking the ley line, thus setting the magic element in motion. he makes a bargain with cabeswater and becomes the link between the boys and the forest; he painfully learns how to communicate with this sentient entity and he reshapes his future by choosing another tarot card at the table; he becomes the magician, he comes up with the plan to blackmail greenmantle, he finds out how to wake the animals in the valley of skeletons, which later allows blue fo find her mother; he learns to scry to help ronan with his dreams; he’s the one suggesting to ask cabeswater to sacrifice itself for gansey and he’s pivotal in the process or reviving him teaching cabeswater about humanity. person driving the plot? check. he also undergoes a lot of personal change. he frees himself from his abusive household environment, he cuts ties with his family and goes on to live alone and support himself financially; he grows so much as a person, learning to count more on his friends, to let go of his pride, to control his anger, even when he has every right to be angry, and to not vent it out on others, to let himself feel things. so, character who undergoes personal growth? check. but he admittedly isn’t the focus of the overall story, the role is still gansey’s.

a similar argument could be made for ronan. he is the dreamer, he manifests cabeswater, he’s a main driving force of the entire story. as with adam, he changes a lot from the beginning to the end of the books: he starts out by being this ever-angry boy, all sharpness and edges because he’s grieving and traumatised but slowly begins to heal, to find some kind of closure with his father; to free himself from his self-hatred, to accept himself the way he his; he learns to control his dreams and to free himself from kavinsky’s toxic influence; he becomes a better friend to blue and lets himself love his crush, he loses his mother in a horrifying way but he’s there again for his friend shortly after; he becomes a parental figure for opal. so we find ourselves again in front of a character who carries the story forward and has a notable self-growth throughout it. at this point, one could be tempted to say he’s the true protagonist because there’s a novel in the series entirely devoted to him, but it’s exactly his role in tdt that makes me reject this idea. he’s a fundamental part of a piece of the story, a link between the beginning and the later portions of it, the effective protagonist of tdt; but tdt feels too much like a kind of stand-alone book inside the series, and yet again, the rest of the story doesn’t revolve around ronan, though he is, as much as adam, an impossibly central character in a book with four main characters.

blue is, instead, clearly the decoy protagonist: the premise and the first chapters of the series make it look like she’ll be the only main character and the hero of her own story, but going forward she kind of fades into the background, to tumble out of it in bllb, to go back there in trk. she has too few relevant moments by herself, and most of them are concentrated in the first half of trb and the ending chapters of bllb, to be considered a fitting candidate for protagonist role. and as with gansey, she just doesn’t grow that much as the story goes on. which, if you ask me, is a pity because not only she was a very interesting character, she also was the only female character in the main ensemble cast. but, alas, we had to see her fulfill her destiny and kill and one true love with a kiss. me was hoping for a plot twist at the end, but of course that wasn’t my destiny as a reader.

so, to sum things up, this is how i view things: gansey is the de facto protagonist of the story, because he’s the clear focal point of it. but remember point three in the main character definitions? i’d say adam and ronan are the most central characters in the novels, those whose internal conflicts determine how the external conflicts are resolved. and they’re both gansey’s contenders as protagonists. although, i also think that ronan feels comfortable in a defiled position and is quite happy to follow gansey in most occasions, whereas adam openly challenges gansey’s leadership and decisions, and makes his own accordingly. so i get where mr. gray takes his idea of “adam and his band of merry men” and it makes perfect sense to me that he would think that way for what had been his involvement in the story. and i have to say, my heart thoroughly agrees with mr. gray. just this once.

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