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andrea-lyn · 3 years

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The Recs (Less Travelled)

I’m excited to bring you the first installment of my ‘roads less travelled’ recs! I will be doing another round of this, probably once the Ted Lasso fic tag hits about 25 pages, and then I’ll also grab a couple more fandoms to collect in there!

The Rules:

Each fandom/pairing was sorted on Archive of Our Own by completed works. Anything recced here was not in the first ten pages when sorted by kudos at the time of reccing. There may be some more well-known authors on this list, but the specific fics I’ve picked are ones that didn’t crack that top ten or just didn’t get much traction and I think deserve it, so hopefully I have also balanced it out with other under the radar (and still great!) works. As ever, I have a pinned post of my other recs (none have been duplicated from there), so you can also check those out! Under the cut you’ll find 10 recs in each fandom for:

Raven Cycle

Roswell New Mexico

The Old Guard

Inception

Star Trek (mainly Kirk/McCoy)

The Raven Cycle

savor all the little pieces by littlelionvanz

“Since when do you garden?”

Ronan snorted, “Since I grew up on a fucking farm, genius. Jesus who gave you permission to pursue higher education.”

the old grip of the familiar by littleseal

"There is a single black feather and a printed out picture of Gansey, Blue and Cheng standing in front of some fucking monument Ronan didn’t care enough to remember the name of. Gansey sent it to Ronan’s phone some time ago, but it sat in his messages until Adam picked it up and grinned at it so hard that, one afternoon later, Ronan cursed and kicked and glared his old printer back to life in order to print it out.

Fuck, he thinks, I’m in love with a hoarder."

Adam collects things. Ronan is in love with him.

No Sweeter Innocence Than Our Gentle Sin by gansey_is_our_king

Ronan Lynch has wanted to kiss Adam Parrish for a long time.

(alternately titled: four times that Ronan could have kissed Adam)

Cheers to Another Seven Years! by skyermirth

Adam left Henrietta for Harvard and never returned. Now, seven years has passed, and an unexpected work assignment has brought him back to a place and people he hardly recognizes.

Row, row, row your boat by emmerrr

“What. Why are you smiling at me,” he says suspiciously.

Adam shrugs. “You’re cute.”

“I’m not cute, I’m terrifying.”

“Terrifyingly cute,” Adam says.

and now the world is ours to take / and every single move is ours to make by thatlittleblackcat

"Adam was the scientist, Ronan was the data, and Orphan Girl was the key that explained the strange outliers that Ronan presented, his previously unexplainable actions."

Adam sorts out his feelings, Ronan helps him, Gansey is the number one dad friend, Blue is the number one mom friend and Henry tries to make Ronan smile. Otherwise known as the story of how Orphan Girl became Opal.

All These Things You Make Me Feel by SilverOpals394

It was late. Adam could feel the long day catching up to him as he left Boyd’s, all his energy exhausted. When he started his car, the tape deck whirred to life once more. He sighed and raised his hand to turn it off, but before he did a soft melody began to play.

AU in which the mixtape Ronan made for Adam only plays the murder squash song until Adam realizes he's in love with Ronan, too.

Ways to Communicate by Jalules

Blue Sargent reflects on an early memory (and gets busy with her boyfriends.)

(The two things are related, trust me.)

Hold Me Closer, I'm Safe in Your Arms by actuallyronanlynch

“You wanna tell me why I had to hear from Henry Cheng that my boyfriend was at the hospital?” Adam hissed, though his voice wasn’t as acidic as it could’ve been. Ronan took small victories where he could.

“You don’t have a cellphone,” Ronan pointed out flatly. “It’s not like I could’ve gotten a hold of you.”

arts and crafts and the inevitability of death by sunshineinthestorm

Adam comes to the public library in search of a study spot, not a boyfriend.

But it must be his lucky day—because he ends up with a bit of both.

Roswell New Mexico

a conversation between insignificant others by Bellakitse

“Hey…have you noticed that our boyfriends are madly in love with each other?"

“You noticed that too, huh,” she answers dryly, letting out a huff of reluctant amusement.

***

Forrest and Maria share a drink and a conversation and start a friendship.

Own Personal Hell by BeStillMySlashyHeart

Now that Isobel's getting the hang of her telekinesis, Michael decides to test out his telepathic abilities. It backfires. Badly. Now Michael's trapped inside his own mind and only one person can break him out.

Drop the Hammer by brightloveee

Max makes a new friend at the shooting range, who turns out to be even more bad-ass than he expected.

(Takes place mid-S1)

Boys Like You by forgadgetsandgizmos

Curly, dirty blond hair (the mere description ‘curly’ felt like an injustice) twisted in every direction off his head, a sharp contrast with the scruff darkening his strong jawline and scowl-ridden face.

Alex made a mental note to compliment Maria on her excellent taste in men.

—

Or, Alex has coffee with Maria's one-night stand, a man who he definitely does not have a crush on.

let's exchange the experience by lostin_space

Michael decides they need to quarantine.

Michael floods Alex with love and care over and over and over.

This Is Hardcore by Anonymous

Michael makes a proposal. Alex accepts. Michael wonders what the hell he’s gotten himself into.

i don't know what to think (but i think of supernovas) by Milzilla

michael discovers that the console can talk. then, he discovers it can do far more than that.

iridescence on skin by Lire_Casander

In a world where (almost) everyone has a tattoo on their right wrist with one set of coordinates that point to the place where their soulmate is born, Alex thought he wouldn't be any different. He couldn't be more mistaken.

He has two.

The Real Thing by elliebird

Max checks on Michael the morning after Michael saves Max’s ass from Wyatt Long and his dumbass buddies. He sees more than he’s supposed to.

Written for a Tumblr anon who one of their friends walking in on them or anyone of them finding out about Michael and Alex in an interesting way

Sundering by romancandles

“You know it was just an Air Force balloon, right?” says Alex.

Michael smirks. “That’s what they want you to think,” he says, with a wink.

The Old Guard

Peer Reviewed by ishandahalf

[From:] Journal of Medieval Studies ([email protected])

[Subject:] Ad-hoc note from the editor

I have noticed an uncommon level of animosity in your responses to your reviewers (or rather, one reviewer in particular). I am writing to ask if you would please do your best to keep your interactions civil. In fairness, I have also sent a similar request to the reviewer you seem to have this friction with. I trust you will both try and remain more professional in the future.

Again, thank you for submitting your work to this journal.

Sincerely,

James Copley, PhD

Editor-in-Chief

Journal of Medieval Studies

An (accidental) academic epistolary romance as (inadvertently) documented via a (theoretically) rigorously blinded peer review process.[citation needed]

third for a word and the song keeps going Macremae

It was honestly shaping up to be a pretty uneventful year before the Vatican got on Nicky’s bad side.

Or: three times in 2008 that the team genuinely thought about killing Nicky if only to get him to shut up about the changes to the Catholic English Mass and his unrelenting opinions on them, and one time Nile did.

Apex Predators In Island Ecosystems (Freeman et al., in press) by Sixthlight

Palaeobotany PhD student Nile Freeman and her supervisor Joe al-Kaysani are invited to billionaire Stephen Merrick’s new project – a theme park full of cloned dinosaurs. What could possibly go wrong?

This Rough Magic by Marivan

When Joe came to Scotland to study the sea, he did not expect to also encounter a beautiful man claiming that A. he’s a selkie and B. they’re married because Joe picked up his scarf.

It sounds like a fairy tale and that’s a problem. Because Joe’s a scientist. And selkies don’t exist.

Wars for the broken by Yuliares

Five years into his exile, Booker is joined by a companion he never expected to meet. Together, they try to work on healing.

Sometimes they go down to the sewers just so she can scream and scream. “I like to hear it echo,” she explains. “Underwater, you can’t hear anything. Here, at least I can be heard.”

“I don’t feel like a warrior anymore,” she tells him, throwing bread crumbs at pigeons. “I feel broken.”

“You’re still a warrior,” he says roughly. “This is still fighting.”

a good (eighth) impression by deanniker

Over the next few months, Joe runs into Nicky every so often at the farmer’s market. Some weekends Nicky doesn’t make it, because of his work schedule - Joe doesn’t understand it because he doesn’t ask, though he does start to recognize when one of those missing weekends is coming up because Nicky will stock up on things with longer shelf-life. When they do run into each other, they make small talk and move through the stalls together.

Joe doesn’t mention it to Lykon when he stops by, because it is kind of weird, that Lykon’s ex-boyfriend texts Joe things like - If you’re here, the apples look particularly good this week and thank you for that recipe, I did not know what I was going to do with that much couscous

Or,

Joe wouldn't usually consider starting anything with his best friend's ex, but as long as they keep it casual, it shouldn't be weird... right?

get back to where you once belonged by tenderjock

Nile takes a sip of her cappuccino and closes her eyes.

(Booker and Nile get that coffee. Life happens, along the way.)

a house; a home by mehm

“Is this a kidnapping?” Joe asks as Nicky checks both their seat belts. “Like, I don’t mind. It’s just not quite what I expected for my birthday.”

In which Joe gets a birthday surprise, because that’s the stuff you have time for when you and the love of your life become mortal at the same time.

the ties that bind by damaskrose

“There’s a story I heard many times,” Andy begins, “in the Mediterranean. Threads of fate and three sisters. One to spin, one to measure, and one to cut.”

Clutter And Croutons by flawedamythyst

Joe and Nicky have an argument, and then Nicky talks to Nile about what it really means to be in a relationship for 900 years.

Inception

My Big Fat Slightly Annoying Wedding by jibrailis

Arthur and Eames elope for ~tax reasons. Certain people in their lives are not happy at the lack of a wedding.

Remember Sydney by pathera

When Eames shambles into the safe house outside of London, he finds a red light blinking on the phone.

For the inception_kink prompt:

Arthur is on a plane which is about to crash. No way anyone is going to survive. Instead of panicking he calmly calls the team's office and gets the answering machine. He hangs up before the plane crashes.

Give me Arthur's last message to the team.

(TW: Character Death / Angst)

Of Such Deceitfulness and Suavity by delires

In which emotions manifest themselves in unusual ways.

YO, K2tog (it's like a code) by lazulisong

“Oh my God,” moans Arthur. “I’ve paid less for Somnacin. Good Somnacin.” A horrible thought strikes him. “How much is the yarn --”

“I want you to have an unguarded reaction,” Eames tells him, and pulls him up from the floor.

(They run an extraction on a knitter.)

hit the ground running by orphan_account

"I travelled halfway around the world for you. I dealt with the French for you."

Valley by wldnst

It's an old story: a knight, a prince, a kingdom in peril.

If This Is Rain Let It Fall On Me and Drown Me by Brangwen

We used to be so brave, Eames thought. Of the two of them, Arthur had always been the more fearless.

a gentle familiarity by jollypuppet

Two weeks later, Eames is on his doorstep with bad Italian takeout and a grin, and Arthur tells him he can sleep on the couch.

Your Crisis Cannot Be Completed As Dialed by sevenimpossiblethings

Arthur doesn't do snow, Ariadne is determined to be as Midwestern as possible, and blizzards make cell phone service unreliable.

Let’s Say I Do (I Do) by xsilverdreamsx

There were, perhaps some things worse that this, Arthur thinks, as he glares at the letter in his hand with his name printed clearly in bold ink, indicating his presence in two weeks for his esteemed marriage to one William H. Eames, III, at St. Catherine's Church in London, England.

Star Trek (predominantly Kirk/McCoy)

Show the World That Something Good Can Work by knune

Leonard McCoy is a doctor, not a personal assistant, and maybe that's why he can't stand working for Jim Kirk.

It's in the little things by winterover

Bones is bemused by a persistent secret admirer.

"Wedding" Away with It by pendrogon

One morning, Bones wakes up and he's single. By the same afternoon, he's married to Jim Kirk for Arbitrary Fic Reasons(TM).

How Long Will You Stay (For Your Whole Life) by withthepilot

Jim Kirk, deputy director of the Enterprise parks and recreation department, sees all of his hard work fall to pieces when budget specialist Leonard McCoy arrives from the state capital to cut Jim's budget and threaten the livelihoods of his colleagues. But thanks to a major parks project, Leonard finds a place in the department, as well as in Jim's life—and when all is said and done, Jim doesn't want him to leave.

All-Time Favorite by mardia

What to do when your best friend suddenly starts making new friends.

Joy Ride by Cards_Slash

While running for their lives from an alien species Kirk had accidentally enraged, they come across a car. And well, if you were to come across a car while being chased by aliens that wanted you dead, and you possessed some lingering knowledge of how to drive a car similar to said car, you would have decided to drive it toward the nearest cliff too.

Also a gunfight.

Syncytia by epistolic

He’d signed up for Starfleet on an impulse, but Starfleet meant James Tiberius Kirk: the first – and second, and third, and fourth – big mistake of Leonard McCoy’s life.

Renovation by canistakahari

Jim has a whammy put on him by an alien death ray and he suddenly craves domesticity. He's crazy with longing to shop at space!Ikea and get potted bamboo and he starts looking into adopting AND HE HATES HIMSELF AND CANNOT CONTROL THE SHIT. Luckily, McCoy is drunk all the time and plays house.

17:08 by butterflycell

She'd watched the news holos with a sick feeling, searching for information that was completely obvious in its absence. Amidst the reports of the the Enterprise's miraculous recovery and the damages sustained, there had been next to nothing about the crew or her captain. Jim had been mentioned only in passing, his name shied away from as his first officer limited interaction to the bare essentials.

The Honey of Hybla by shrift

"Bones, prepare to be my date."

#recs #fic recs #recs project #star trek recs #inception recs #the raven cycle recs #the old guard recs #roswell new mexico recs

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willowbird · 3 years

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Hey! For the au + trope + prompt thing, could you do 1 for au, 9 for trope and 27 for prompt with pynch?

(P.S: I just remembered you have already done one with pynch, so you can do this one with another ship of your choosing if this one feels repetitive!)

Roommates AU, strangers to lovers, “that was a very bad idea. 0/10 would not recommend.” ~ for pynch!

I am more than happy to write 10,000 roommate aus for these idiots <3

---

It all started with an only mildly suspicious ad on craigslist:

Roommate needed $275/mo - utilities included must be ok with corvids good w/cars a plus - rent discount if u can prove it

Adam wasn't an idiot. He knew something that was too good to be true when he saw it. He also knew that answering a craigslist ad for a roommate was a good way to get stabbed, robbed, and God only knew what else.

And yet...

Sometimes, when your options were limited it really was better to take every possible avenue to get away from the devil you know - even if that means sharing a small apartment with the devil you don't.

Well, the devil and his pet raven. And really, Chainsaw was by far the more agreeable of the two.

That being said, it wasn't like Ronan was awful. He was an asshole, and he was downright grumpy bastard anytime before 11am. He listened to terrible music, if that trash could ever be considered such. Chainsaw was a sweetheart, though, always bringing Adam new shinies for his approval and sitting with him while he worked on a paper or research or any number of other assignments for his degree.

(Taking the risk that he had by jumping at that craigslist ad meant that he was able to cut back on his hours a little bit at work, go to school full time, and start amassing a savings account.)

And, okay, Ronan probably had some merits too. He could cook, for one thing. Not to say that Adam couldn't cook. He could - he just didn't like to. If it were up to him, he'd probably subsist on saltines and hard-boiled eggs. In fact, he had done exactly that for the first two weeks living with Ronan until the other man had dropped a full plate of breakfast in front of him, stole his crackers, and pointed at him. "Eat like a fucking grown-up," he'd said -and... well, that was that. Sure, Adam had tried to protest, but Ronan had just... started making food for the both of them and maybe if it was shitty food or even mediocre in quality Adam would have been able to ignore it - but it killed something inside Adam to waste food. Especially good food. And Ronan's food was fucking amazing.

So, there was that.

He also wasn't an absolute terror to be around. Having a conversation with Ronan Lynch was a choose-your-own-adventure novel written by very high geniuses. You really never knew what you were going to get and each alternate path was bound to be either completely bat-shit crazy or a humbling level of profound. Not only that, but Ronan didn't pull that alpha-male bullshit so many other men did where they refused to admit they didn't know something. No, when Adam proved that he knew what he was talking about when it came to cars, Ronan just said "teach me?" with such open intensity that Adam couldn't really tell him 'no', alright?

And then there were days like today, where Adam got home from an early shift at the garage to find Ronan sitting halfway out of their third-floor apartment, securing a thick rope to a hook above the window that definitely hadn't been there when Adam left that morning.

"Are you about to do something stupid again?" Adam called up to him as he got out of his car. Upon hearing his voice, Chainsaw (who had been circling anxiously above) crowed out a warbled imitation of speech that sounded a lot like 'Atom' and coasted down to him.

"Me? Stupid? Nah, this is gonna be fucking amazing," Ronan called back without looking away from his work.

Chainsaw landed on Adam's shoulder and clapped her beak affectionately near his ear. Adam dutifully lifted a hand to stroke at the soft feathers of her neck. If he also whispered 'hello beautiful girl, is your papa making trouble for you again?' it was between him and the bird and Ronan would never need to know.

Chainsaw crooned a tense 'kreh!' that Adam took as an affirmative.

"What exactly are you doing, Ronan Lynch?" Adam called up as he took another look at the setup, walking closer to the building. The rope that Ronan had just finished tying to the hook was already secured to a tree on the edge of the parking lot, the one that stood awkwardly out from the rest of the tree line. Their apartment complex was situated right on the edge of a forest preserve. A lot of Ronan's hair-brained ideas usually came back to the forest in one way or another.

"This is just a test run. If I can get it to work right, I'm going to set a line straight into the forest."

"Mm, yes, because... leaving civilization through a door is beneath you?"

Ronan paused, then grinned down at him, the expression somehow both boyish and savage in a way that always made Adam's heart jump for some reason. "Actually, yeah. Literally."

Adam rolled his eyes but didn't bother to fight the smile. "Punk."

"I resent that. I reject all labels, Parrish - you know that."

"Uh-huh. Sure. Well if you-- Ronan what are you doing?"

Ronan had produced what looked like a fucking tie (was that the one Ronan's brother Declan had been wearing when he came by for dinner a couple weeks back?) and had wrapped one end around his hand. As Adam watched, he flicked the loose end of the tie over the taut rope and then wrapped it around his other hand.

"Told you it was a test run, Parrish. That mean's I've actually got to test it."

"Ronan I don't think--"

But it was too late. Ronan had already jumped out of the fucking third-floor window like he was expecting to fly. For a second or two, he sort of did. The rope bowed but supported him and the smooth tie provided little friction as Ronan began to zoom down at a steep angle. Then the rope shuddered and went completely slack, the hook having torn free from the side of the building where it clearly had not been properly anchored. Ronan plummeted like a stone in a still pond.

"Ronan!" Adam did not make the active decision to move, but he was suddenly sprinting to where the jumbled heap of Ronan Lynch had landed on the rough pavement. Chainsaw had already launched ahead and was hopping around near Ronan's head, squawking out anxious reprimands of 'Kerah! Kerah!'

Adam skidded to his knees beside Ronan just as the other man was shakily trying to sit up. "What the FUCK Ronan Lynch!? What were you thinking!? You can't just jump out of a God-forsaken third-floor window like that. Do you want to be killed?" Adam didn't even care that the rural-Virginian flavor of his youth had coated his words in a thick batter, he was so mad.

Ronan blinked at him and there was a strange mix of confusion and pain and... something else on his face. "Scared, Parrish?" The words did not come out as teasing as they normally would.

"Scared? Scared? Of course I was scared. You... you fucking idiot!" Adam had to give himself a moment. He raked his fingers through his hair and took a deep breath, then another. He closed his eyes and tried to center himself. Fear and anger would get him nowhere, even if the fear had already set its nasty little hooks into each and every one of his nerve endings and the anger felt like the only way to burn them away.

A hand touched his shoulder, then his cheek. Adam opened his eyes and Ronan was wearing another indecipherable expression, his dark eyes hooded, his mouth pursed.

"Come on," Adam said as he leaned back so he could stand up. "Can you stand?" Chainsaw continued to hop around, but she'd stopped her distressed shouting, perhaps sensing that Adam was taking control and feeling more comfortable knowing that he would set things to rights, whatever that might mean.

Ronan was quiet for a moment, then seemed to shake himself out of his thoughts before giving a derisive snort. "It was just a little fall, Parrish, I'm --fuck!" Ronan had just tried to stand up, but his knee buckled out from under him as soon as he put his weight on it. "Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck, alright. Alright. Shit. Fuck. That was a very bad idea. 0/10 would not recommend."

"The standing or the stupid fucking stunt you pulled jumping out of a goddamn window?" Adam asked. He attempted to make it as dry as possible, trying to get them back to some kind of equilibrium, but his heart was still racing a bit too fast and he could hear the angry bite in his own words.

Still didn't stop him from instantly stepping forward and catching Ronan, though. He wound an arm around Ronan's waist, guiding Ronan's arm over his shoulders so he could support him.

"The standing, of course. Shit! Ah... fuck. My idea for the apartment-forest zipline is fucking genius thank you."

Adam helped Ronan hobble forward, taking them back toward his car instead of the building. "Yeah. Right. Whatever you say, Lynch."

"Where are we going?"

"To the hospital, dumbass," Adam said with a roll of his eyes, all but shoving Ronan into the passenger seat. He held the door open for Chainsaw to be able to swoop in and land on the idiot's lap. The least Ronan could do was soothe her for the drive.

"You don't have--"

Adam cut him off with a glare. "We. Are. Going. To. The. Hospital. Am I being perfectly clear?"

"...yes." Ronan glared back, but then sank down in his seat, expression mulish.

Adam fixed him with a hard stare that lasted another few heartbeats, then gave a nod and snapped the door shut.

So yes, Ronan Lynch wasn't all that bad. Sometimes the devil you don't really is the better choice. Because sometimes that devil has a cute bird and makes good food and has great conversation. If he also scares the shit out of you on the regular and makes your heart race inexplicably, well, that's not so bad a deal. Right?

#asks #ficlet prompts #fanfic #pynch #trc #roommates au #adam parrish #ronan lynch #chainsaw #adam parrish x ronan lynch #pynch fanfic #trc fanfic

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willowgast · 3 years

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tag game time!

i was tagged by the lovely @contre-qui, with the aim of tagging nine people to learn about their interests - i'm unlikely to find that many people myself but we'll cross that bridge when we get to it! going under the cut because this is a pretty long(ish) one.

music!

fave genre a little bit of everything but right now especially medieval folk & pop rock

fave artist a strange mixture of måneskin, kraftklub, siames, cavetown, and rainbow kitten surprise

fave song hard choice, but probably 'brothers' by siames & eddy capparelli

most listened to song recently either 'coraline' by måneskin or 'king orfeo' from the child ballads

song currently stuck in your head 'happy pills' by weathers

five fave lyrics oh boy, this is gonna take some thought.

"called to the devil and the devil said / hey! why you been calling this late? / it's like 2a.m. and the bars all close at ten in hell, that's a rule i made / anyway, you say you're too busy saving everybody else to save yourself / and you don't want no help, oh well / that's the story to tell" ('it's called: freefall' by rainbow kitten surprise)

"today i coo, today i caw / i have a pistol party and i kill 'em all / i think i might be scared / of the man and the men with their hands inside / and the women, oh, the women all they do is cry / and i, well i lose my mind" ('little pistol' by mother mother)

"so did you pack your bag, or did somebody pack it for you? / take me to the sad, sad party that you're bound to / whether you're a 'have-not' or a 'have', i got a question / are you living dead, or is this some kind of possession?' ('blast doors' by everything everything)

"but what if i run out of fertiliser? / what if the clouds run out of rain? what if lemon boy won't grow no longer? what if beaches dry of sugar cane?" ('lemon boy' by cavetown)

"now they tell you that you're their muse / yeah, they're so inspired / but where were they when they called your name / and they lit the fire? / when the voices came, you cut your hair / but you're stilled confused" ('joan of arc' by arcade fire)

books!

fave book genre fantasy all the way

fave writer bernardine evaristo, leigh bardugo, madeline miller

fave book oh dear, here we go. 'circe' by madeline miller, 'six of crows' and 'crooked kingdom' by leigh bardugo, 'girl, woman, other' by bernardine evaristo, 'good omens' by neil gaiman & terry pratchett, 'the raven cycle' series by maggie stiefvater, 'oranges are not the only fruit' by jeanette winterson, and a whole lot of old norse literature of dubious authorship (but especially 'gisla saga' and 'hrafnkels saga freysgoða', and pretty much all of the eddic poems in the volsung cycle)

fave book series it's a tie between leigh bardugo's grishaverse novels and maggie stiefvater's 'the raven cycle'

comfort book 'the secret kingdom' by jenny nimmo

rainy day book any of my norse books, sagas or poetry

fave characters nina zenik in the grishaverse, ronan lynch in 'the raven cycle', gisli in 'gisla saga' (not sure if that counts as a character or historical figure, dependent on perspective...?), and circe in, y'know, 'circe'

five quotes from your fave books?

"i thought once that gods are the opposite of death, but i see now they are more dead than anything, for they are unchanging, and can hold nothing in their hands" ('circe' by madeline miller)

"'spreader of swords, it is your own sons' / corpse-bloody hearts you've chewed up with honey, / proud man, you've consumed dead men's meat, / eating it as ale-dainties, sending it to the high seat' [...] with the point of a blade she gave the bed a bloody drink, / with a hel-keen hand, and set the dogs free; / she woke the servants, and in front of the hall-door / she flung a burning brand: she paid them back for her brothers. / to the fire she gave everyone who was inside, / who'd come from myrkheim after murdering gunnar and his men; / the ancient timbers fell, the temples smoked, / the buildings burned of budli's kin, and the shield-maids inside; / their lives stemmed, sinking into hot flames." (gudrun avenges her brother in 'atlakviða', a poem in the old norse poetic and elder eddas)

"you aren't a flower, you're every blossom in the wood blooming at once. you are a tidal wave. you're a stampede. you are overwhelming." ('crooked kingdom' by leigh bardugo)

"from the passenger seat, ronan began to swear at adam. it was a long, involved swear, using every forbidden word possible, often in compound-word form. as adam stared at his lap, penitent, he mused that there was something musical about the ronan when he swore, a careful and loving precision to the way he fit the words together, a black-painted poetry. it was far less hateful sounding than when he didn't swear." ('the raven cycle' by maggie stiefvater)

"but where was god now, with heaven full of astronauts, and the lord overthrown? i miss god. i miss the company of someone utterly loyal. i still don't think of god as my betrayer. the servants of god, yes, but servants by their very nature betray. i miss god who was my friend. i don't even know if god exists, but i do know that if god is your emotional role model, very few human relationships will match up to it. i have an idea that one day it might be possible, i thought once it had become possible, and that glimpse has set me wandering, trying to find the balance between earth and sky. if the servants hadn't rushed in and parted us, i might have been disappointed, might have snatched off the white samite to find a bowl of soup." ('oranges are not the only fruit' by jeanette winterson)

tv and movies!

fave tv/movie genre fantasy, travel/road trip & comedy

fave movie the secret life of walter mitty, supernova, any and all ghibli films, scott pilgrim vs. the world, lord of the rings, the how to train your dragon trilogy

comfort movie the lion king (original), how to train your dragon, from up on poppy hill, kiki's delivery service

movie you watch every year elf, howl's moving castle, love simon

fave tv show she-ra and the princesses of power, skam, bee and puppycat (i guess more of a web series than a tv show?), adventure time, the it crowd

comfort tv show adventure time

most rewatched tv show skam, every october without fail

five favourite characters catra (she-ra and the princesses of power), sana (skam original), marceline (adventure time), moss (the it crowd), inej (shadow and bone netflix adaptation)

tagging (absolutely no pressure, this is a pretty long one!): @crowcaves, @the-obsidian-soul, @natscbi, @somehowmags, @gabrilearnelle, @clockwords, @starsspace... and that's it, that's as close to nine as i'm getting, but if anyone else just feels like doing it then feel free to consider yourself tagged!

#tag game #long post #tysm for the tag!!!!

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parrishh · 3 years

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Pynch and "I adore you" any thoughts? XD I Need some FLUFF right now ugh

okay but like, honestly, i don't think this happens too often. i think "i saved your life because i love you" was such a big deal because maybe neither one of them hears it as much as they'd like. but, at the same time, i think they both know when the other really needs to hear it. i was trying to think of an example of when that might happen, and i ended up just writing it. i know that's not what you were asking for but i haven't felt ~inspired~ to write for a while so i had to roll with it lol. here you go, a super quick "i adore you" one shot, audience of one:

It was common knowledge that Ronan Lynch was a shit.

Everyone and their mother knew it. If Adam opened the Aglionby yearbook to a random page, closed his eyes, and pointed, there was about a ninety-five percent chance the person he landed on would have some story to share in which Ronan Lynch was, in fact, being a shit. The night-shift clerk at the Singer’s Falls Sunoco, the one where Ronan bought his Slim Jims and tiny bottles of 5-Hour Energy, would have several stories. Even Ronan’s dentist would likely have stories, assuming Ronan ever listened when Declan told him his It’s time for your annual cleaning! postcard had arrived and he had to go soon, please. He had great teeth, so probably.

But the thing about Ronan being a shit was that there were levels to it. There wasn’t just Shit, period. There was I actively dislike you and want you to know it Shit. There was I secretly don’t dislike you and don’t want you to know it Shit, I don’t even know you but I’m having a bad day Shit, and If I don’t hurt you first, you’ll hurt me Shit. There was even a unique brand of Shit reserved solely for Declan.

Being close with Ronan meant either being the recipient of or personally witnessing most of these types of Shit at some point or another, but with that came the ability to differentiate between them. Adam, who knew Ronan better than anyone knew Ronan and was also sometimes pretty shitty himself, was intimately familiar with the varying degrees of Shit. He also knew that Ronan had been through more terrible crap in his eighteen years of life than most people would go through, ever, so even though the point of the Shit was to push people away, Adam pushed back. He talked to Ronan. He asked questions, or he listened, or he accepted, without argument, the times that Ronan didn’t want to talk at all, and all of those things meant that he had learned, or was at least in the process of learning, what Ronan needed and when he needed it.

Which is why, when they got back to the Barns one night and Ronan kicked the boots off his feet with a little too much force before stomping into the living room, alone, Adam thought about the news Gansey had shared in the booth at Nino’s and knew, right away, what kind of Shit this was.

Ronan had responded to the revelation of Gansey’s year-long road trip by shoving an entire slice of pizza in his mouth, so that by the time he’d finished chewing, the awkward silence would make Blue too antsy and she’d start excitedly chattering about the way redwoods seemed to stretch up forever if you stood at the foot of them, or so she’d read. So that when Gansey hesitantly slid glossy pamphlets and itineraries across the table, Ronan could shrug and waggle his grease-soaked fingers in the air, forcing Gansey to take the papers back and stack them, protectively, in his lap. It all worked. Ronan made everyone so uncomfortable that he didn’t have to say or do anything at all, and he didn’t. No snarky remarks or rude jokes all night. Just tense shoulders and silence.

This was bad, Adam knew. He sighed, slipping out of his sneakers and leaving them neatly by the door. He retrieved Ronan’s shoes from halfway down the hallway and stacked them next to his own, his heart heavy in his chest. This was Everyone I love leaves me Shit, and it was bad. It was really, really bad.

“Ronan?” he called, socked feet soft against the wood floor as he rounded the corner into the living room.

The back of Ronan’s head was visible over the top of the couch he was slumped on. He had turned the TV on but left the volume too low to hear. The Simpsons flickered across the screen, technicolor mouths moving silently, no subtitles. Ronan was staring at the screen intently, trying to read animated lips or making up his own dialogue or else maybe, likely, looking at the moving pictures without taking anything in at all.

“Hey,” Adam said softly. There wasn’t really enough space for a whole other person to squeeze between Ronan and the arm of the couch, but he did anyway, not bothering to wait for a response. He drew his knees up, Ronan’s hip digging painfully into his own, and wiggled his left foot under Ronan’s calf. Ronan was warm against his side and Adam leaned into him even though there wasn’t any room to.

For a few minutes, neither of them moved or spoke or did anything. Adam ignored the uncomfortable way his shoulder blade jabbed into the couch and watched Bart Simpson emphatically say nothing and tried very hard not to peek at Ronan out of the corner of his eye. Ronan was still quietly absorbed in Ronan-thoughts, but he didn’t move away. They were pressed so tightly together Adam could feel each one of Ronan’s too-quick breaths in the rise and fall of Ronan’s upper arm against his own.

Adam knew Ronan. He knew that Ronan hadn’t said anything at Nino’s because he loved Gansey, and he knew that Ronan hadn’t shied away because he loved Adam, and he knew that both of those things combined meant Ronan would talk. That Ronan wanted to talk, so long as he got a minute to sort through the minefield of his feelings. So Adam, his heart a little lighter, was patient. He watched Bart write lines on a chalkboard and he hated the Simpsons and he didn’t say a word.

“We can turn it up, you know,” Ronan muttered, finally, but he didn’t so much as twitch a finger towards the remote he’d haphazardly tossed onto the other side of the sofa.

Adam’s chest fluttered. “I have just about zero interest in actively watching The Simpsons.” He twisted his head. Ronan was still staring pointedly at the TV, Marge’s tall, electric blue hair reflected brightly in the cornflower blue of his eyes. “I think the fact that I can’t hear it might actually be making it better.”

This got a brief flash of a smile out of Ronan, but then he grimaced, wriggling his hips away from Adam. “Your bony ass fucking hurts, man-” he kept wriggling some more “-and don’t talk shit about The Simpsons.” His fingers lingered at the hem of Adam’s flannel shirt, and he didn’t move the leg that Adam’s foot was still wedged under, and Adam loved him so much it hurt, which was why he pushed him. Why he was always going to push him.

“He’s not leaving forever,” Adam whispered, trailing a knuckle across Ronan’s cheek.

Ronan looped his finger through Adam’s and brought them both to his lips, his long exhale slow and warm. His voice, when he spoke, was low and uncharacteristically quiet. “I know I was being a dick. I know that.” He closed his eyes and opened them again, let Adam’s hand drop, fidgeted in his seat. “But everything I wanted to say wasn’t nice, so I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t do that to him. He looked too...too happy, and, and-”

“Alive?” Adam offered, getting it. Really getting it, more than Ronan could guess. It had been months since Gansey had died and come back, and Adam still, every time he looked at him, saw the way he’d crumpled to the asphalt. It was etched into the back of his eyelids like a lithograph, or maybe more like some sort of old, 1920s-style animation. Like Steamboat Willie. A tragic short film, admit one.

Or two. Ronan looked up sharply and nodded once, quick. He looked as though he was about to say something, but he stopped, ground his teeth, and said, instead, “So, yeah, if he wants to go all Where’s Waldo with Sargent and Henry fucking Cheng, he should do that.”

“Ronan-”

“You’ll be in Boston. Matthew and Declan will be in D.C. Gansey will be in Timbuk-fuckin’-tu, but it’s great. It’s swell. I’ll be here every Friday night playing goddamn Scrabble with Opal. Five points for L-O-S-E-R.”

“Ronan,” Adam repeated. “Not one of us is planning on being away from you for like, the rest of time. We’re just...doing things. Because people do things, Ronan, but we’re all going to come back. And we’ll all be calling you, all the time, probably.” He pulled on Ronan’s earlobe, fingers curled against Ronan’s jaw. “You’ll be picking up collect from Timbuk-fuckin’-tu. Gansey will see a dung beetle or some shit and he’ll want to tell you all about it.”

“Yeah, but-” Ronan paused to gnaw on his wristbands, avoiding Adam’s gaze and staring at the TV again. There was some sort of pharmaceutical commercial on. A mom and her two-and-a-half kids and a golden retriever were all running jolly circles around a rainbow sprinkler while adverse side-effects ticked against the sky. “You guys will see and do exciting new shit every day. I’ll just be watching the cows sleep and telling Opal not to eat laundry detergent.”

“You could literally stare at a blank wall twenty-four hours a day and we’d still be happy just to hear your voice,” Adam told him and meant it. He leaned across Ronan, fumbled for the remote, and hit the power button. Now the only light in the room was the faint, dusky moonlight through the tall windows, and it splattered purple across Ronan’s forehead. They blinked at each other, the house somehow quieter even though the TV had been muted anyway.

“The Simpsons,” Ronan protested weakly, just to be difficult, and Adam clutched at his hand.

“Fuck the Simpsons,” he said solemnly. “Ronan, Gansey adores you. I adore you. You’re stuck with us, I promise.”

Ronan continued to stare, his eyes unnaturally wide in the dark, then tilted forward, burying his face in the side of Adam’s neck. “Okay,” he whispered there, muffled against Adam’s skin.

Okay didn’t sound fully convinced, but it didn’t sound like a fight either, so Adam just looped his arms around Ronan and hummed “I love you” into his ear. Ronan lifted his head and kissed him, long but sweet, chaste but searing, and, even though he was a shit, Adam loved him so much it hurt, and it was good. It was really, really good.

#answered #w writes things #pynch #trc #anon

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ratingtheframe · 4 years

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Films you need to watch if you want to fit in at film school.

By now, you’re probably knee deep in your filmmaking course at film school or university and if you want to keep up with the film discussions in between classes, then here’s a list of exemplary films to watch (and flex on) whilst at school.

It’s never a fun moment when you’re sat in a group of other film buffs and everyone but you have seen one particular film. Not only that, but they continue to bang on about it, and in those 12 minutes you’re left wishing gosh, I wish I had watched that now.

I know the feeling and to make sure you don’t get caught out again, this list of films not only covers your filmmaker wannabe basics, but also a few swarve anomalies that you can throw into the discussion like a true culture vulture.

Pulp Fiction (1994)

I shouldn’t be saying this but if you haven’t seen Pulp Fiction and you made it to film school, just leave. Hand in your student ID at reception and walk out the door, watch Pulp Fiction and come back to the next day. If you haven’t seen the 90s cult classic directed by Quentin Tarantino, it’s likely you’ve had at least one person disgusted by your lack of engagement for the film. But why is it such a necessity amongst the filmmakers of today? Well after a highly successful debut of Reservoir Dogs at Cannes Films Festival in 1992, Tarantino created another world of filmmaking. What he brought to the industry was a perspective and whole landscape that had never been seen before and the release of Pulp Fiction in 1994, certainly proved that Tarantino wasn’t a one trick pony. With a stellar cast, most of which were in their early days, and an outstanding storyline, Pulp Fiction is any filmmaker's paradise. And seriously, you can’t keep avoiding it.

Fight Club (1999)

Keeping it in the 90s, is David Fincher’s Fight Club, another revolutionary film from the king of psychological thrillers. If the name David Fincher doesn’t mean anything to you, it probably should, seeing as his films have grossed over $2.1 billion at the box office globally and earnt him 30 Academy Award nominations. Story, script and cast align perfectly in all of Fincher’s films, with Fight Club being no exception. Based on the 1996 novel by Chuck Palahnuik, Fight Club follows two men (Brad Pitt and Edward Norton, enough said) who initiate in an organised fight club. Sounds pretty straight forward until you get to the end and realise Fincher has been messing with all of us the entire time. In terms of early filmmaking and story structure, Fight Club is an excellent cult classic to sink your teeth into.

Psycho (1960)

Another name to be aware of, Alfred Hitchcock laid down the foundation for thrillers for generations to come. For it’s time, Psycho was revolutionary as it broke the strict censorship and threat barriers created in the world of filmmaking in the 60s. There are some iconic scenes in Psycho, along with an unnerving score and a whopping $39.2 million profit in the box office. Hitchcock also took a gamble killing off the star of the film, Janet Leigh, 45 minutes into the film. However, Psycho just goes to show that risks can also pay off.

La Haine (1995) “The Hate”

There’s a reason why some of the most revolutionary films can be found in the 90s. The 90s was the year of filmmaking that gave two fingers to the world and most of its stories belonged to the misfits and outcasts of society. Films were violent, punchy and led by young protagonists, raking in teenage audiences and voices. La Haine is a prime and clear cut example of the injustice between races and class in Paris, winning a Best Director award at Cannes in 1995. The film was so thought provoking and hard hitting, that the Prime Minister of France at the time forced his cabinet ministers to watch it. I’m sorry, if La Haine is good enough for the Prime Minister of France, it’s good enough for anyone.

Any Bong Joon Ho Film

With the success of Parasite still looming over Hollywood, Bong Joon Ho has to be the industry’s biggest underdog. Before the 2020 Oscars, most weren’t even aware of the director’s work or how gratifying he is as a storyteller. Each film is meticulously executed, with a hard hitting political message sewn beneath the surface of the overall film. Bong Joon Ho was quoted saying that this technique isn’t intentional and the breadth of the films he makes is found once they’re completed. From Okja that explores animal cruelty to Snowpiercer which explores class division, Bong Joon Ho has a way with imbedding societal issues into his films in a stylstic and structured way that should have any filmmaker filled with envy. He’s a strong voice for Asian cinema who’s had a sharp impact on western cinema without feeling the need to have all his films in the english language.

The 400 Blows (1960) “Les Quatre Cents Coups”

Whether you’re at school, in a lecture or amongst friends GUARANTEED the 400 Blows is going to worm its way into conversation at some point. The film was part of The French New Wave movement of the last 50s that created the foundation for French Cinema for films to come. The French New Wave was a significant movement that sought out to reject traditional ways of filmmaking and introduced new, more experimental ways of telling stories on screen. Francois Truffat won Best Director at the 1959 Cannes Film Festival for his directorial debut about a young boy struggling through Paris between his teachers at school and parents at home. The film shone a light on the misunderstood youth of the late 50s and early 60s, setting off a whole co-ord of films within the same genre later on.

Moonlight (2016)

Barry Jenkins became the underdog of 2017, with his beautiful and captivating story Moonlight, following a young boy through early adolescence and adulthood. The film is impeccably shot with rich colours and seamless shots. Moonlight won big time at the 2017 Academy Awards, winning Best Picture, Best Supporting Actor and Best Original Screenplay. The film certainly set the world of filmmaking on fire and carved out space for more black filmmakers to enter into the industry.

Hereditary (2018)

It’s easy to forget that this film was released 2 years ago as it has had some groundbreaking reception since then. Hereditary, directed by Ari Aster, sets a bar and tone within horror films that has never been touched on before. Before him, your average horrors came from low budget gimmicky films where the lead actress would be running around in her underwear by the end of the film. Hereditary keeps everyone in their clothes (for the most part) and viewers on the edge of their seats for the entirety of the film. What stands at the forefront of this film is the slow pace and artistically beautiful frames that Ari Aster has meticulously curated to create a work of art. It’s everything you wanted in a horror film but could never really ask for, due to the over saturation of the horror films on the market and predictable jump scares that come with them. I found that the jump scares in Hereditary were put in the most unpredictable places, leaving me and most people visibly shaken and disturbed.

The Grand Budapest Hotel (2014)

Probably the first PG film on this list, Wes Anderson’s most iconic film The Grand Budapest Hotel, is a production designer’s paradise. Not only that, it features an insanely good cast with the likes of Jeff Goldblum, Ralph Fiennes, Bill Murray, Saoirse Ronan, Adrien Brody, Tilda Swinton, Willem Dafoe, Harvey Keitel, Jude Law and Edward Norton starring in the film. Wes Anderson’s mind is like a fairy tale book; he has the ability to create other worlds filled with bright colours and characters that EVERY ACTOR are dying to be. The Grand Budapest is probably Anderson’s most ambitious film to date and features some production design techniques that are beyond real.

Amélie (2001)

Amélie is your basic starter pack in French Cinema. Seeing as every charity shop has at least one copy of Amélie for sale, you have zero excuse for not having seen it yet. Even if French Cinema isn’t your thing, it’s very likely the entirety of French Cinema will be a topic of interest within your filmmaking course and Amélie is a fine place to start. The film ties the story, soundtrack and visuals perfectly and for any indie filmmaker, it’s a good example of taking a simple story but executing it in a complex way. In terms of box office, Amélie scored pretty well, with a humble budget of $10 million and making over $173 million globally. It was also nominated for five Academy Awards in 2002 and remains as one of the best and most iconic films to come out of France.

Good Time (2017)

With a humble budget of $2 million, Good Time made double in the box office and had a Hollywood star at its forefront. In fact Good Time skyrocketed Robert Pattinson’s career and since it’s release, Pattinson has gone on to be part of some amazing projects. Seeing Pattinson in such a gritty role in Good Time, was highly refreshing and totally suited him in every way. New York based filmmakers, Josh and Benny Safdie co directed and wrote the crime thriller after having an impressive response from their previous film, Heaven Knows What. They recently completed Uncut Gems for Netflix starring Adam Sandler, which continued the crime thriller neon lights aesthetic that's come with their two previous films. Good Time is jaw droppingly good, and for those wanting to go into lighting, it is a must watch. The deeper the story goes, the more you feel the urge to gasp as Robert Pattinson feeds us with an unrecognisable performance.

8 ½ (1963)

We are getting into sophisticated territory here with Fredrico Fellini’s 8 ½ . For those Scorsese and Tarantino fans out there, Fellini is your filmmaking bread and butter as both filmmakers have admitted to being heavily inspired by the Italian’s cinematic masterpieces. Fellini had the ability to tie reality with fantasy in a personal way, depicting a lot of his own life within his films. 8 ½ is no expectation, as it details the making of the actual film in the film and the rocky relationship he had with his wife, who starred in a few of his films. Fellini is named as one of the best filmmakers of all time, for his experimental style and off the wall filmmaking techniques. No one can or could do what Fellini did and there’s yet to be anyone who measures up to him.

Get Out (2017)

You like Get Out, I like Get Out, we ALL like Get Out. The film was the first of its kind in many ways and resonated with an audience that hadn’t yet been found. Jordan Peele wrote and directed the film, which grossed 100 times more than the film’s budget at the box office. This film is the epitome of less is more, taking a somewhat simple idea and heightening the possibilities of it. Jordan Peele became world renowned for it, along with British actor Daniel Kaluuya for his performance that earned him a Best Actor nomination at the 2018 Academy Awards. Get Out stands as a film that did what no one else has done before and for that, it deserves all the praise it gets.

All Celine Sciamma films

It’s likely the first time you heard of French filmmaker Celine Sciamma was from her groundbreaking, break through film Portrait of a Lady on Fire. Premiering at Cannes 2019, the film earned the Queer Palm d’Or and Best Screenplay Award. The film is simple, gorgeously shot and significantly deep in its telling. Not only will Portrait of a Lady on fire set you on fire, but all of Sciamma’s films sit on a level of filmmaking that is praise worthy. Her past films, Waterlilies and Girlhood explore coming of age stories amongst women and are executed in a highly personal and understanding way. She is the queen of female indie filmmakers and certainly one of the best french filmmakers in the industry to date.

I, Daniel Blake (2016)

It can be hard to remove the gimmicks and big names from the stories being sold on screen and get straight to the heart of a film. Ken Loach has brought an incomparable style of filmmaking to the table that sets him apart from almost every filmmaker out there. It's easy to compare a Tarantino film to a David Fincher one, however, throw Ken Loach into the mix there's just about zero relation to either filmmaker or their styles. I, Daniel Blake won Outstanding British Film of the Year in 2017 BAFTAs and the Palm d’Or at the 2016 Cannes Film Festival. It’s no wonder why the Cannes Film Festival ate this film up seeing as the realism and grittiness of I, Daniel Blake gave a voice to a large part of society that is heavily ignored. This film leaves you nodding in agreement at the reality of the way things are even if that reality is incredibly hard to bear.

The Meyerowitz Stories (2017)

For those budding screenwriters out there, the work of Noah Baumbach is necessary in understanding three dimensional characters and the dialogue that comes with them. The Meyerowitz Stories stands from Baumbach’s other films, seeing as the screenplay and actual film are completely the same. On reading the screenplay of this film, I found not one single word of dialogue was forgotten about or changed, which is a pretty incredible achievement for any filmmaker. It certainly showed the actors (Dustin Hoffman, Ben Stiller, Adam Sandler, Emma Thompson, Adam Driver) had a lot of respect for the words on the page and each one of their performances sought to lift them off it. Baumbach’s writing style is beautifully accurate to real speech; there’s interruptions, over layered conversations and a great deal of tangents. The dialogue is like music and is only elevated by the well rounded cast.

The Master (2012)

Filmmaker Paul Thomas Anderson has this hypnotic way of arresting his audiences to invest in his films for two and a half hours, then drop them at the last second. You don’t know why you’re watching or feel so absorbed in the worlds he creates, however it’s as if something over takes your attention, forcing you to carry on watching till the end. The Master is no different with a prolific cast and slow burnt pace to it. It's hard to explain what it is about this film that makes it so great. The cast made up of Phillip Seymour Hoffman, Joaquin Phoenix, Amy Adams and Jesse Plemons bring a top level performance and it feels like they’re always sitting on a secret. Every moment, every word, every shot is unmissable and the entirety of the film sets a bar of filmmaking that is flawless. Paul Thomas Anderson is a master (pardon the pun) of arresting his audiences and is someone to follow if you wish to do the same with your own films. For budding cinematographers, all of PTA’s films are worth a watch.

12 years a slave (2013)

Probably the best film out there that depicts slavery, 12 years a slave is a heart wrenching and moving film directed by Steve McQueen. The sensitivity and authenticity Steve McQueen brings to his films is A class, as he does an outstanding job of really transporting his audiences to a time before. There are many scenes in 12 years a slave that can be considered some of the best ever made. The cast is in-sane with the likes of Chiwetel Ejiofor, Lupita Nyong’o, Benedict Cumberbatch, Michael Fassbender, Paul Dano, Sarah Paulson, Brad Pitt and even a young Storm Reid and Kelvin Harrison Junior, all joined within this story. Films with such casts are rare and it’s unquestionable why the film was nominated for Nine Academy Awards, winning three back in 2014.

The Social Network (2010)

Even though I wasn’t a fan of The Social Network, I can still appreciate the musicality behind the work of Aaron Sorkin and the screenplay he wrote for this. The collaboration between David Fincher and Aaron Sorkin on this film is something the world certainly needed, as two highly skilled masters of film came together and served us a huge slice of their talent. The Social Network is 100% the screenwriter’s film, and one to watch when trying to analyse successful dialogue within films.

Babel (2006)

Those who are into the episodic film, you are advised to look into the work of Alejandro G. Iñárritu. A name you might not be too familiar with, but you only need to have seen Birdman or The Revenant to appreciate his talents as a director and unique voice. Babel struck me as a poignant and INCREDIBLY structured film, with a satisfying 360 to it, as all the stories connect to one another in a distinct way. It’s so clear that a lot of time was put into writing such a screenplay and the production itself is to be noted, for scenes are filmed in Morocco, Tokyo, California and Mexico. That takes a LOT of money, time, effort and people, however if was certainly worth it as Babel is hands down one of the best films you’ll ever see.

The films of Xavier Dolan.

Xavier Dolan is Cannes Film Festival’s godson. The man has attended every festival for the past 10 years and each time, when in competition, he brings a personal and hard hitting perspective within his films. I have seen all but one of these films, and I suggest you do too. Xavier Dolan’s directorial debut I Hate My Mother scooped him numerous awards at the Cannes Film Festival and was made when Dolan was only 20. From then, he went on to direct several french/canadian films that won him the Jury Prize, Un Certain Regard and Queer Palm at Cannes. He’s a filmmaker who puts so much passion and devotion into his work, which is seen through the incredible acting, story and dialogue shown within his films. Two must see films of his would be Mommy and Laurence Anyways, especially for the acting. Xavier Dolan also directed the music video for Adele’s Hello music video which is one of the most watched music videos of all time, with 2.7 Billion views on YouTube.

You Were Never Really Here (2017)

Lynne Ramsay’s 2017 film starring Joaquin Phoenix is everything and more that you want from a thriller. It’s probably one of the best thrillers out there on the market and is highly underrated. Lynne Ramsay’s previous spellbinding feature We Need To Talk About Kevin sent pulses racing through the industry, giving Ramsay the recognition she deserves and even earning her a Palm d’Or nomination at the 2011 Cannes Film Festival. As a female filmmaker, Lynne Ramsay is one to watch for she has a knack at creating her own original slow burning, deep stories and directing them in a seamless way.

The films of Christopher Nolan

Christopher Nolan’s 11th film recently hit cinemas and no one knows what the hell is going on in it. However, there are plenty of other Christopher Nolan films that don’t melt your brain or send the guy next to you at the cinema cursing throughout the film in frustration at not understanding the film. The Dark Knight is said to have one the best performances in cinema history, with the late Heath Ledger taking on the role of the Joker. Not only that, but the likes of Gary Oldman, Michael Caine, Anne Hathaway and Christian Bale are also featured alongside Ledger, creating an untouchable cast. Dunkirk also deserves an honourable mention as one of Nolan’s films, seeing as I couldn’t breathe throughout the entire film. The second Dunkirk begins, the tension builds and you’re kept in a constant state of panic for the characters on screen. As far as war films go, Dunkirk is up there and it’s cinematic qualities were recognised at the 2018 Academy Awards, picking up three awards. What we can take from Christopher Nolan and his ability to execute stories on screen is that he spends a great deal on his screenplays before production. Tenet took FIVE YEARS to write (and probably another five to understand) certainly showing his devotion and dedication to his ideas as a filmmaker.

Honorouble mentions (that u should definitely check out)

Taxi Driver (1976) A Clockwork Orange (1971) Call me by your name (2017) Her. (2017) Do the right thing (1989)

Obviously there are 100s of other films worth watching that aren’t on this list, however if you were to watch all films mentioned on this list, you’d certainly get a different perspective on the possibilities of filmmaking and the stories they tell.

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thereisonlyoneoption · 4 years

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Maggie Stiefvater~Rant YA edition pt.2

I know, I know that I had to make a part about world-building but I’m pissed, I failed my exam I am at my friend house and it’s Fourth of July so I must do this.

Joseph Kavinsky.

First of all I don’t condemn his actions and yes, you can like a character but don’t agree with their actions.

My journey with The Dream Thieves was rocky, like really rocky. It was worse than The Raven Boys, I felt psychical pain while reading this one but there was only one good thing that help get through it AND IT WAS KAVINSKY.

From the first scene I liked him, I was intrigued by him and I was curious why Gangsey hates him so much. I mean what M*ggie give us are just rumours, that's when I asked myself “Why such a hate? What did he do to them?”.

And then the yo mama jokes, priceless by the way. Okay, maybe my sense humour sucks but let me tell you in polish translation “twoja stara” is golden I laughed for several minutes.

But the thing went down pretty quickly, like my face went from a happy to grim in a second and stayed that way while reading this, just to cry at the end. After that it was just anger and to this day I’m angry at M*ggie for what she did.

Lets start from beginning.

1. Kavinsky-Description

The first time we see Kavinsky it’s in the chapter 3 where we got rumours about him:

“Of course it was Joseph Kavinsky, fellow Aglionby Academy student and Henrietta’s most notorious recreational forger. Kavinsky’s infamous Mitsubishi Evo was a thing of boyish beauty, moon-white with a voracious black mouth of a grille and an immense splattered graphic of a knife on either side of the body. The Mitsubishi had just been released from a month-long stint in the police impound. The judge had told him that if he was caught racing again, they’d crush the Mitsubishi and make him watch, like they did to the rich punks’ street racers out in California. Rumor had it Kavinsky had laughed and told the judge he’d never get pulled over again. He probably wouldn’t. Rumor had it Kavinsky’s father had bought off Henrietta’s sheriff. To celebrate the Mitsubishi’s release from impound, Kavinsky had just put three coats of anti-laser paint on the headlights and bought himself a new radar detector.“

Right from the bat, characters expressed disdain of him:

“I hate that prick,” Adam said.

Then we get the “description” of him: white sunglasses, golden chain, which already is kinda lacking but then we get the infamous “refugee face”

“He had a refugee’s face, hollow-eyed and innocent.“

Okay okay, so like it wasn't already offensive, we learn later that he’s Bulgarian and as a person also from Slavic group, this description just looks bad and leaves bad taste in my mouth, because I'm fed up with Americans view of Slavs like we are all simple people, still in communist era somewhere in the Europe, who came to America to steal low income jobs.

On the other hand, how does “refugee face” looks like? Yeah, we get the line “hollow-eyed and innocent“ but it still feels offensive to Slavic group.

Luckily, in my translation it was changed to “runaway’s face” which holds the same idea but it isn't offensive and fits Kavinsky’s character better.

“There was nothing about Kavinsky that wasn’t despicable”

Just... ugh why they hate him so much, I asked myself back then but I didn't know that from this point, all went down hill.

“He was unmistakable: the sort of raven boy who was clearly an import from elsewhere.“

Okay first of all, you can import things, not actual people Blue. Second of all, combining this with “refugee face” it made me so angry like M*ggie, why can’t you describe Kavinsky normally without possibly offending half of Europe. He is human, not your new brand German car.

After that we get the rest of description “Like many of the other raven boys, he sported massive sunglasses, spiked hair, a small earring, a chain around his neck, and a white tank top.“ and that’s it. It’s all we get. There might be some things missing, like hair colour but we can forgive that.

2. Backstory

In M*ggie’s now deleted tumblr, she once wrote:

"Kavinsky has a very logical backstory that leads him to this place.”

And what did we know about Kavinsky? Practically, nothing. He’s a son of a Bulgarian mobster from New Jersey, he’s rumoured to kill his father, he’s mother is a drug-addict, he’s rich, Prokopenko is his favourite forgery and he got away with replacing him and possibly his dad. It gives the idea to what shaped him as a person but it doesn’t explained everything, like if he killed his dad, why wasn’t it? How did it ended up with him replacing Prokopenko? Why he is his favourite forgery?

But okay M*ggie say what you want but I and my friend made better backstory for him in ten minutes (like it wasn’t hard really).

3. ”We matter”

“Closing his eyes, Gansey leaned his head back on his seat, chin tilted up, throat green in the dash lights. There was still an unsafe sort of smile about his mouth — what a torment the possibility in that smile was — and he said, “There was never a time when that could’ve been you and me. You know the difference between us and Kavinsky? We matter.“

That said Gansey, the character we are supposed to like, about the kid who is not only his age but also drug addicted and possibly abused. I was furious at him for saying that because who k*rwa he is to say things like that. Is he some frigging higher being to judge someone like that?

And he was smiling while saying that? What an.. and nobody called him out on that?! It only gives the reader the idea that people like Kavinsky don’t matter and to those who relate to him that they don’t matter.

And Blue, who again made me want to throw my phone, later in the book asked literal a hitman, who offered to go to “talk” with him to “make him feel worthless” while doing it.

It’s the next example when I felt the main characters are lacking a basic human empathy, like again he is just a kid not “H*tler” like Ronan compare him to.

4. That scene

That f*king scene, we all know about.”R*pe of Ronan” as stans like to call it.

I heard the reaction of the fans to this scene even before reading this books. Of course, I was anticipating this scene and when it came:

“After a moment, he heard the hood groan as Kavinsky leaned over him. Then he felt the ridged callus of a finger drag slowly over the skin on his back. A slow arc between his shoulder blades, drawing the pattern of his tattoo. Then sliding down his spine, tensing every muscle it moved over.

But when his eyes slitted, battling sleep, Kavinsky was just doing another line of coke off the roof, body stretched over the windshield. He might have imagined it. What was real?“

I was baffled, because its bad but its nothing like fans making to be. All Kavinsky does is drag his finger on Ronan’s back tattoo, while he is falling asleep but afterwards Ronan said he doesn’t know, if it was even real, so the reader can’t tell if it was. Somebody would argue, that is a molestation but once again, we don’t know if it was real. Maybe if we got K’s PoV we could get information about this situation but now we are left in the dark what really happened that night.

And then, there is “Consent is overrated” scene

This is one of the main argument of stans preaching that K is a r*pist. Yes, that sounds horrible, we don’t have to argue about that but people missed the context of situation in which it was said.

“Ronan replied, “Not such a thief tonight.”

“Some nights,” Kavinsky said, all teeth, “you just take it. Consent is overrated.”“

Ronan and Kavinsky are referring to pulling things out of dreams and how Kavinsky is doing it aka not asking permission to take them out, unlike Ronan. But without this context, the world “consent” is mainly associated with one thing. You know what...

The bottom line is that, if we got K’s PoV, it would shine a light on his intentions and motivations to say and possibly do all of this. We can only thanks the author for that.

5. Relationship with Ronan Lynch

Maybe that will sound scandalous but I don’t think Kavinsky loved Ronan. All of their interaction seem more like obsession to me and after the dreaming of Camaro, it seem desperate.

At the beginning, after main characters expressed disdain of K, only Ronan thought something different:

“Ronan knew he ought to hate him, too.“

And I thought “Okay maybe Ronan know more about him than the rest” but as the chapters went, I wanted the end of it all.

It was toxic. I know, I know but I was hoping for a least little glimpses of possible friendship. Instead of that, I got throwing over cars, punching and exploitation between them. With Kavinsky saving Ronan from the night horror (which fans forget about in their rants how bad K is) and helping Ronan dreaming a new Camaro, I expect at least some decency? gratefulness?? at Ronan side, because nobody forced Kavinsky to do this but when Ronan got what he wanted he just peace out?! Like Kavinsky was doing all of this as a favour?

“He rolled down the window. “I’m going.” For a moment, Kavinsky’s face was perfectly blank, and then Kavinsky flickered back onto it. He said, “You’re shitting me.” “I’ll send flowers.” Ronan revved the engine. Exhaust and dust swirled in a wild torment behind the Camaro. It coughed at twenty-eight-hundred rpm. Just like the Pig. Everything was back the way it was. “Running back to your master?” “This was fun,” Ronan said. “Time for big-boy games now, though.”

And

““I never lie,” Ronan said. He frowned disbelievingly. This felt like a more bizarre scenario than anything that had happened to this point. “Wait. You thought — it was never gonna be you and me. Is that what you thought?”“

And what was Kavinsky’s reaction after he was “used” by Ronan without even a thank you?

“Kavinsky made a gun of his thumb and finger and put it to Ronan’s temple. “Bang,” he said softly, withdrawing the fake gun. “See you on the streets.”“

Not anger but disbelief about what just happened and then the “he said softly“ just seems sad to me. He got used by the man he, de facto, wanted to befriend. He for sure felt cheated and used but the next thing what he does seems just OOC for me. He kidnapped Matthew, Ronan’s younger brother, to force him to come to the Fourth of July party. Before it looked like he wanted Ronan just to have a fun but after the Camaro something broke in him. But once again, it only my interpretation, because K is the only TRC antagonist that doesn’t get PoV, so I can wonder, what was going on in his head.

I’m tired of this, because most of the things could be explained, if we got his PoV, because without it his actions seems random.

After the text “bring something fun to fourth of july or we’ll see which pill works the best on your brother“, Ronan called K demanding where is Matthew and K responded:

“Ronan demanded, “Where is he?” “You know, I asked nice the first few times. Are you coming to Fourth? Are you coming? Are you coming? Here, have a motherfucking car. Are you coming? You made it ugly. Bring something impressive tonight.”“

It doesn’t sounds that evil to me more like desperate (repetition of “are you coming”) and hurting (”you made it ugly”). It made me feel more curious about what was going in his head and what lead him to kidnapping more than being angry at him for kidnapping Matthew.

Kavinsky was looking someone like Ronan, to share problems and to destroy themselves together. And Ronan was the closest thing to it, dreamer and all. He was looking for connection but in the end, Ronan didn’t want anything to do with him and that ended in tragedy.

6. Fourth of July

Ah yes, the main reason why I’m writing this post. We know how this goes. Gangsey arrives at party. Ronan demands where is his brother. Ronan follow K into a dream.

"Kavinsky laughed the word. "Reality! Reality's what other people dream for you."

"Reality's where other people are," Ronan replied. He stretched out his arms. "What's here, K? Nothing! No one!"

"Just us."

There was a heavy understanding in that statement, amplified by the dream. I know what you are, Kavinsky had said. "That's not enough," Ronan replied."

One again K got rejected and it was told to him he "wasn't enough" Okay, Ronan doesn't own him anything but what happened next is more fucked up

Kavinsky dreams fire dragon, Ronan night horror. They fight. Gangsey search for Matthew.

Ronan demands K to tell him where is Matthew and K just said “He’s all yours! You missed my point, man. All I wanted was this —”“ while gesturing at their creations and ONCE AGAIN I REPEAT ONCE AGAIN we are not sure what K meant: dreaming together? fighting? One chapter from his PoV couldn’t hurt Maggie you know?

Matthew got rescued, Ronan shielded him from upcoming dragon then this:

"He shouted to Kavinsky, ”Get down!”

But Kavinsky didn’t look away from the creatures. He said,”The world’s a nightmare”.

Ronan once again shouted to him but Kavinsky didn’t answered and let the dragon to kill him.

“A second later, the fire dragon exploded into Kavinsky. It went straight through him, around him, flame around an object. Kavinsky fell. Not as if he was struck, though. Just like when he’d taken the green pill. He crumpled to his knees and then slumped gracelessly off the car.“

And we know K is dead, because both the dragon and Prokopenko fall asleep.

And that’s all and what was all for? Because they thought he was draining the ley lines (but Adam fixing the lines seems to do the trick) and because Ronan didn't want to come to Fourth of July. After that comes nothing. No reaction from the cast and the dream pack who supposedly were his friends (In later book Jiang talks to Ronan like nothing happened) there is no funeral of which we know and the town is silent. Like K never existed.

What kind of message this sends to a reader? That if you are like Kavinsky in any way nobody will mind if you are gone. You are not even worthless to remember. On one podcast M*ggie said she don’t want to be educational in her books and that’s f*cked up because she is writing YA, young people who are easily influenced and after reading how K is treated the majority will close the book with belief that people like K don’t deserve help and they are goners not worthy of redemption.

While in the same book Gray Man, adult hitman who killed people on pages, was hunting down Ronan, relieved to be murderer behind a Niall's death, beat up and threaten Declan with a gun to tell him where the Greywaren was not only forgiven by everyone (including Ronan) but got redemption arc and love interest. Let me repeat adult man, literal a hitman gets redemption arc but not mentally ill kid. Okay Margaret what the f*ck was that. Where is the logic, where is the lamb sauce?! Does she knows how her writing can influence young people? And it seems most of the fans agree with her.

Conclusion

Joseph Kavinsky was handled terribly through the whole book. With main cast hating him from the get-go. Narration that tried to make him the great evil (with some fans of TRC calling him the worst villain) and after the book got published the fans and the author themself further demonised him, 17 year old boy with a drug addiction, mental illness and with possible history of abuse.

I can only shake my head every time, I see someone calling him the devil. What Kavisnky needed was rehab and therapy, not death! If she wanted to find solution to stop him from dreaming, why couldn't she just moved him outside of Henrietta or Virginia, not lead him to commit s*icide and public s*icide mind you. He was a bad person but nobody deserved to die like this.

To end this post (I wrote this post so long that in my country is no longer Fourth of July), I still to this day think about Kavinsky and what would happened, if the author didn't choose the easy way to "get rid of him". And do not tell me, it was impossible to end it differently, because it was possible. Ronan just grabbing him by the shirt and pulling him off the car. Sending him to a rehab or just talking with him, instead of assuming from the start, that he wouldn't listen. His only crimes were, he needed help and he wouldn't listen to Gangsey telling him what to do.

#anti maggie stiefvater #joseph kavinsky #anti the raven cycle #anti trc #he deserved better

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eury--dice · 4 years

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.

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pynches · 4 years

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memories we hold (as part of our soul) - chapter 1

a/n an anon requested a childhood best friend fic and i turned into a multi-chapter slow burn of sorts! i worked pretty hard on it so i hope you all like it!

word count: 2343

tw: mention of child abuse (canon)

He saw the bruise first.

The shadows from the late afternoon casted over the boy’s face making it appear bigger than it was.

“How did you get that?” Ronan had asked with childlike curiosity, his hand already moving up to touch the purpling skin.

The boy had flinched away, his hand coming up in front of his face to protect himself. Ronan’s lip jutted out, confused and hurt at the clear rejection.

“I’m sorry,” he stammered, stepping back himself. He had learned from tending to the various animals at the Barns that if you scared them you had to make yourself look smaller so they didn’t feel threatened anymore. He sat down on the soft grass of the mysterious forest he often dragged Declan and Matthew to so they could build their treehouse further.

The boy’s face turned to the side a bit in confusion. Ronan waited patiently until he sat down in front of him and grinned at him widely.

“I’m Ronan,” he said, taking the hand that was stretched out to him. He giggled a bit at how grown up it felt.

“Adam,” the boy, Adam, had replied, gifting Ronan with a shy smile. His accent reminded Ronan of the sweet lady at the candy store who always gave him one piece of candy more when his mom’s back was turned, melodious and languid like the Henrietta sun.

“Wanna see my treehouse?” Ronan asked then, pulling Adam up by his hand when he nodded. Ronan didn’t let go of Adam’s hand, instead he let it swing between them.

“When you’re out with your brothers, remember to hold each other’s hand,” Aurora always said, right before they were running out of the door to another one of their imagined adventures. “That way you will never lose each other.”

He led Adam up the tree, showing him exactly where to climb. “My brother Declan helped me make it!” he said excitedly, showing Adam around the half finished tree-house. He brushed a dark curl out of his face but it stubbornly fell in front of his eyes again.

Adam looked around in wonder, not ever having seen a treehouse before. “I could live here,” he said quietly, his eyes roaming over the open space. Ronan noticed Adam was starting to look quite sad and despite not getting what had upset him, he grabbed Adam’s hands and spun them around in circles until Adam let out a laugh.

“We can come back,” Ronan said when they were laying on the wooden floor, splinters probably worming their way into their skin now. His vision was still tilting a bit. He pictured them on a pirate ship, the waves causing the motion sickness instead of childlike playing.

Adam turned to look at him, his eyes still slightly unfocussed. Ronan couldn’t help but giggle and poke Adam’s nose. He scrunched his nose at Ronan’s touch, his freckles more pronounced with them flowing into each other. “Do you mean that?”

“Of course!” Ronan answered excitedly. “We’re best friends now,” he added solemnly like he was making a great vow with the boy he had only known for an hour at most. “And best friends do things together!”

Adam gave Ronan his first actual smile then, one of his front teeth missing, the new one just poking through. The smile was cheerful and bright and Ronan couldn’t help but smile back.

And that was the start of a friendship that was supposed to follow them into adulthood. The kind of friendship that was unbreakable because you grew up together and thus understood each other better than anyone ever could. And for a while, it looked like it was headed that way.

They were inseparable for a while.

Now it was not three boys running off and using sticks to fight each other like the knights in the fairytales they read, but four. Adam was well liked by all three brothers for a different reason.

Matthew loved everyone and Adam was no different. He liked Adam a little better than most people, though, because Adam was always kind to him. Adam had put a bandage on Matthew’s newly acquired scratch wound once with practised ease and he had loved him ever since.

Declan loved Adam but he would never admit it. Even as a kid he had been closed off, hiding his true emotions and feelings within himself so he appeared as a blank slate for others to interpret how they wanted. He had never been carefree like his brothers, he never had the opportunity to, but he saw a resourcefulness and cleverness in Adam that he didn’t put into place until he was older and understood it better. Nevertheless, Declan admired him despite him being younger which was the biggest obstacle for his young age.

Ronan grew to love Adam the most. Adam was the first friend he ever really had outside of his brothers and he cherished it as much as a nine year old really could. Even when Adam was distant, fresh marks littering the skin of his small arms, Ronan tried his best to put a smile on his face because that's what friends do. He had learned to not ask about them but he asked his mom once.

“Is he sick?” he had asked her as she was tucking him back into bed after a bad dream. “Is that why he has bruises everywhere? Is he going to die?”

“He won’t die,” Aurora had said sweetly, the hesitancy before she spoke not going unnoticed by Ronan.

“Mom-“ Ronan had said fearfully, tears brimming in his eyes.

Aurora gently brushed one of Ronan’s curls behind his ear. “He is having a bit of a tough time at home, sweetheart.”

“We have to help him!” Ronan had said, eternally positive and kind-hearted. Aurora couldn’t help but let a prideful smile slip out.

“Trying to help him could only make it worse,” she said softly. She couldn’t possibly explain to Ronan that child-services weren’t always reliable and that she was afraid what would happen if they deemed his parents okay. She couldn’t explain what was really happening to Ronan because as much as she feared for Adam, as much she wanted to protect Ronan from all bad, she was wired that way after all.

“Sleep now,” she said and took Ronan into her arms, singing him a lullaby until he was snoring softly, his face resting peacefully against her chest.

Aurora would remain seated like this for a long time, silently worrying about the sweet but silent boy that had walked into her boys’ lives. Her motherly instincts extended beyond just her sons and so she sat there, with Ronan in her arms, praying for Adam, begging God to give Adam the help she was too cowardly to give herself.

“We’re going to high school soon,” Ronan said, two years later the day before the summer holidays came to an end. His feet were dangling off the side of the tree house. Adam was seated next to him, doing the same, his untied shoelaces blowing in the wind.

“Are you scared?” Adam asked, turning his head to eye Ronan for a second. He had grown a lot since they met but his face was still the same, youthful and radiating happiness. His dark curls bounced in the wind, Adam had the urge to smooth them back like he had seen Aurora do many times.

Ronan shook his head with a laugh. “It will be fun!” He slouched in on himself a little after. “My dad says so at least.”

Adam looked out into the forest, his eyes already wise beyond their age. “I hope it will be,” he decided on, shooting Ronan a small smile.

“We won’t see each other much once we start,” Ronan said, pulling his legs up to turn his body towards Adam, the noses of his beaten down shoes resting softly against Adam’s leg.

Adam turned around too, pressing his legs in between Ronan’s, their ankles now touching comfortably. “We won’t,” he agreed, an edge of sadness in his voice Ronan wanted to take away.

“We’ll still be friends,” Ronan said. It was a statement, a promise, unyielding. Adam smiled, his teeth fully grown out and straight.

“Promise?” he asked, a soft smile lingering on his lips as he stuck out his pinky for Ronan to hook around with his own.

“Promise.”

They kept their pinkies hooked as they watched the sun set, each others’ touch tethering them to the last moment they would have together.

They walked back out of the forest, waving at each other one last time before they both went their own way back home, not knowing this would be the last time they saw each other.

Ronan often wondered what he would have done or said if he knew life would diverge the paths that had interwoven together. If he had known he would lose his best friend and made room for another that didn’t quite feel the same.

Adam had gone to school the next day with nervous butterflies fluttering in his stomach and the distant reminder that he would see Ronan again that afternoon. He’d just have to survive the day and then he’d be in the presence of someone who had become just as familiar to him as he was to himself.

His father had other plans.

It started when he came home from school and didn’t end until much later, when Adam had already left Ronan waiting in the treehouse where they were supposed to meet up.

Adam didn’t want to explain and Ronan eventually stopped waiting.

The treehouse stood vacant, the walls holding children’s laughter and crude words written secretly underneath posters. It held childhood memories neither boy was bound to forget. It carried secrets and unexpected tears, names etched into the wood. It was empty now, present in every day thought but not in actuality anymore.

Adam wondered himself if it had ever really existed.

He had seen Ronan after their contact was lost. Many times even. It was inevitable with the size of the town. Dark curls bouncing as he ran through the street, carefree and wild as always, with a new boy at his side. Expensive glasses and straightened polos, someone Adam never had been and would never become.

Many times, Adam had punished himself in his mind for not saying something, waving at least. He always hid himself at least, watching as Ronan passed him by. It always left him with an ache in his heart, a loss he couldn’t put into words. Miserable wasn’t a word strong enough for what he felt. Losing Ronan was much greater than misery could describe.

The pain faded after time, still present sometimes but not a constant anymore.

Ronan still thought of the sun-kissed boy often, wondered what had happened to him, what made him turn away from him.

But he had found Gansey, who was much different from Adam but eerily alike him too sometimes. Earning Gansey’s friendship was something he was proud of and he admired Gansey like he did no other, but it wasn’t the same feeling he used to have with Adam. It was not something he could put into words but it was something undeniably present.

He was thankful for Gansey though and grew to love him more like a brother than he did Declan, someone who had grown to become the person who had to face his anger, his malice, his pain and take it in stride because he was the ‘man of the house’ now that his father was gone.

It was Gansey who hugged him close when Ronan broke down again, plagued by nightmares of his father’s death. It was Gansey who didn’t protest when he had to help put the tattoo cream on when he went off to the tattoo parlour with a snarl and a fake-id. It was Gansey who let him live with him when he was banned from the Barns.

If Ronan had looked closer and didn’t turn away at his father’s face reflected in Declan’s own, he would have known Declan would have done this for him too. He would have held his younger brother like his mother once had, comforted himself by the nightmares that were plaguing him too. He would have lectured him on the tattoo, sure, but he would have helped him. Because that is what big brothers do and he used to be the best one in Ronan’s eyes.

Ronan’s eyes were elsewhere, set on drag-racing now, drinking until he forgot about his father, about his failing grades, about the crushes he had on the wrong people, about the boy with the sad eyes that still plagued him when he closed his eyes.

A boy he thought he’d never see again.

Until he was there, pushing his bike forward on the small hill he had to climb. It was years later, both starting junior year now. He was still on the thin side, though Ronan now understood why, but there were muscles straining in his arms too. His freckles were still just as apparent, his hands bigger but still just as boyish. Ronan remembered holding it tightly as they rushed off a hill just as big as this one. His stance was determined, his thin lips pulled tight. They met each other's eyes once before Ronan sunk back, shaking his head at a confused Gansey who had slowed down the Pig. Gansey pressed down on the gas pedal again and Ronan blamed the racing of his heart on the speed.

“Please,” he prayed in his head, closing his eyes at the force of the word.

He didn’t know what he prayed for. Please, let this be another chance? Please, let me have one more conversation with someone that had meant so much to me for so long? Please, don’t ruin me because I can’t bear more pain.

“Please,” he prayed again and let Gansey drive them away, leaving Adam as nothing but a spot in the distance.

#pynch #pynch fic #pynch fanfic #pynch fanfiction #trc #trc fic #trc fanfic #trc fanfiction #the raven cycle #the raven cycle fic #the raven cycle fanfic #the raven cycle fanfiction #adam parrish #ronan lynch #adam x ronan #ronan x adam #mine

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nialltlynch · 3 years

Note

Fic title game, here's some choices: torn asunder ∆ heart hotel ∆ the last lake house ∆ dreamscapes and landscapes

SORRY this took me a hot minute !!

torn asunder

Okay but summoning the literal hordes of hell was always a possibility. Adam doesn't see why he should have to deal with it when Lynch fucked up the sigil.

heart hotel

They've already staked out the abandoned war era "love" hotel. It's a scam. A tourist trap. But Gansey found that crusty old library book and is convinced they just didn't go at the right time. Something is supposed to go down at midnight on St. Mark's Eve (Ronan is sure that's a fake ass holiday) so now the three of them are cramped in the front seats of the Pig with all of their ghost hunting and production equipment in the back.

the last lakehouse

I wasn't able to get us -

Weak.

Some rich asshole snagged the last -

Pathetic.

It's fine because I was planning on breaking up with you anyway.

Too direct.

(And besides he was going to break up with her after. Priorities, Declan, priorities.)

Declan doesn't know how to tell Ashley their vacation is ruined because someone else reserved the last lakehouse at the last minute. She makes it easy for him and walks out. Both from his Volvo and their relationship. Wonderful.

Half a bottle of whiskey and one bad idea later he's outside the lakehouse ready to throwdown with this rich asshole "RC Gansey III". How fucking pretentious.

dreamscapes and landscapes

"At night, he’d sit on the end of Ronan’s childhood bed and meet Ronan in dreamspace—Ronan, asleep, in a dream, Adam, awake, in a trance."

we've all thought about The Implications of this!! mind the tags (^:

(E-rated, PWP, bondage, angst, fisting maybe???, a bunch of other probably weird stuff idk)

send me a fake title and ill write a fake summary

#asks and answers #these were fun thanks !!#also i need you all to know that there is only one bed in that lakehouse #scandal

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fancifulbutsensiblething · 4 years

Text

Adventures in Auditory Agony

So I recently made a playlist of absolutely horrible music to drive around to, and the image of Ronan and Blue terrorizing the others with it popped into my head and refused to leave until I wrote this entirely self-indulgent fic to go along with the playlist. It’s v silly and also my first foray into writing TRC content, but...here we are.

Post-TRK/Pre-Epilogue Bronan friendship and gangsey shenanigans, rated T, read on ao3

In the week following Gansey’s graduation, something strange happened.

He hadn’t wanted to leave for a week, not when he was going to be leaving Henrietta so soon anyway. He’d disliked the plan even more when Maura had insisted Blue couldn’t go with him, that if she was going on this road trip with him and Henry, the Fox Way ladies needed to take advantage of every moment they had with her. Gansey couldn’t begrudge Maura time with her daughter, just as he couldn’t blame his own mother for wanting him to spend a little time with the rest of the Gansey clan before he took off again.

So he acquiesced to his mother’s demand-phrased-as-a-polite-request that he would spend a few days at home, on the condition that he could bring Adam along. Adam was even less thrilled than Gansey at the prospect of leaving Henrietta, especially when he knew Ronan wouldn’t come with them, especially especially when he remembered the last time he’d visited D.C. But Gansey desperately wanted company, and with Henry visiting his mother, Adam was the only option left, and he knew it. Besides, at Gansey’s suggestion, they’d added a few extra days for visiting some of the colleges Adam was applying to.

(Neither of them mentioned that the idea of some quality time together—just the two of them—before they each went their separate ways for the foreseeable future was an appealing one. They both thought it.)

The plan was met with mixed feelings by every party involved, but it went off without a hitch, and four family dinners, three college visits, two breakdowns in the Pig, and one emotional late-night heart to heart later, the two boys had returned to Henrietta.

For a while, Gansey noticed nothing amiss.

The first night back was a game night. As usual, Blue somehow managed to beat everyone at Super Smash Bros. despite passing up actually learning how to play in favor of smashing buttons at random. As usual, Adam was alarmingly good at Monopoly. As usual, Ronan got bored before they could finish a round and insisted on playing Cards Against Humanity instead. As usual, Gansey was terrible at every game but nonetheless seemed to have the most fun.

The next day was spent split off in pairs. Gansey spent some time at 300 Fox Way, helping out around the house and good-naturedly tasting Maura’s experimental teas before Blue got fed up with Orla, who was not in the least deterred from her usual flirtatiousness by the official nature of their relationship, and dragged him out of the house to 1) go for a drive, 2) make out in the back seat of the Pig, and 3) explore a local farmer’s market. The rest of the day was spent at Monmouth Manufacturing, though Adam and Ronan were nowhere to be seen. Ronan had been spending more nights at St. Agnes than Monmouth, though, so Gansey wasn’t surprised. All went as usual.

It was on his second full day back that Gansey realized something had happened during his week away.

After a lazy morning, everyone was gathered once more at Monmouth Manufacturing to go for a trip to the Barns. Ronan had volunteered to drive the BMW.

Adam and Gansey followed the other two as they headed out of the apartment, watching amusedly at the scene unfolding. Blue had thrown herself sideways into Ronan, and despite her size, she’d managed to knock him off balance for a moment.

“Hey, asshole, cut it out,” he growled, mussing the colorfully clipped mess of her hair affectionately.

Blue huffed and attempted to shove his hand away. He redoubled his efforts. She ducked away, but he followed, and it quickly escalated into a chaotic tussle.

“‘M gonna shave it all off,” came Blue’s muffled voice from behind Ronan’s arm, “just to spite you.”

Adam laughed. The sound made Gansey grin.

“I’d shave it for you if you asked nicely.”

“No way. It’s a punishment, not a reward.” By this time she had freed herself and was grinning breathlessly back at him as she jogged up to the Beemer.

Then Blue climbed in shotgun.

Ronan was unfazed by this. He hopped into the driver’s seat, and Gansey saw rather than heard him answering her quip.

Gansey, however, was not unfazed. And neither was Adam, if the slight frown and amused quirk of his lips when he turned to meet Gansey’s eyes was any indication.

Gansey could only shrug and follow Adam into the back seat.

Blue rode shotgun in the Camaro more frequently than Ronan or Adam did these days, and on the rare occasion that any of them ended up in Adam’s piece of shit car, she had as fair a shot as either of the others. But if Ronan was driving, it had always been Gansey or, more recently, Adam in the front. It wasn’t that Blue and Ronan weren’t close—they were just about as close now as any of them, and it made Gansey’s heart feel like it was swelling up three times it’s regular size, like the Grinch’s in the old cartoon he and Helen used to watch every December. But Blue had never attempted riding shotgun in the Beemer if either of the others were along, and Ronan had never asked her to, and something about it felt significant when she casually swung herself into the front seat.

It was practiced, Gansey realized as he buckled his seatbelt. It was easy. What had Ronan and Blue gotten up to while he and Adam were away?

He didn’t have to wonder long.

Ronan wordlessly tossed Blue his phone, and she hooked it up to the aux that he’d dreamt to work in the BMW. This, too, was practiced and easy. Blue even knew his phone password.

Just as they screeched out of the parking lot, some kind of music that Gansey could only call aggressive blasted through the speakers. It wasn’t the murder squash song, which he appreciated, but it also wasn’t all that much better. It was all angry electric music and yelling and loud, so loud, but Blue and Ronan were both yelling the words and head-banging, which he had never seen from either of them. It was so strange, he had to glance over at Adam for confirmation that he wasn’t hallucinating. Adam stared back at him wide-eyed.

For a while they only watched in silence, and Gansey almost felt as though he were intruding on some kind of private ritual until Blue turned and began to teasingly sing some of the lyrics of the next song—a horrible, upbeat electronic sounding one—at him. From the few lyrics he could understand, it was about carrying out a relationship over the phone. It was more than a little pointed, and he found himself blushing at some of the more explicit lyrics.

Some of his discomfort evaporated when she laughed delightedly at him and returned to dancing in her seat, replaced by fascination.

Finally, Adam broke in, yelling to be heard over the music, “Can someone please explain what is going on?”

Ronan met his eyes in the rearview mirror and shouted back, “We’re going to the Barns, Parrish. Where have you been?”

“Or do you just mean like, the state of the world today?” Blue asked, turning to face him. “Because you will not believe what’s going on with climate change.”

“I mean the state of my good ear, which is on the verge of becoming my other bad ear. The hell are we listening to?”

Blue lowered the volume just enough that they could speak without having to shout, warding off Ronan’s dirty look with one of her own. “Our playlist. I wanted to name it “emo to the excreamo,” but Ronan kept insisting on names that were objectively terrible and we couldn’t compromise so now it’s a sad nameless little playlist.”

“For the record, ‘songs to commit crimes to’ is the perfect name.”

“It doesn’t make sense! I can’t commit ecoterrorism while blasting Britney Spears.”

“Not with that attitude you can’t. You probably shouldn’t even fucking bother with the ecoterrorism if you aren’t gonna blast Britney Spears while you do it.”

Gansey’s head was spinning. “There’s Britney Spears on this playlist?”

“Obviously,” Blue shot back over her shoulder. It did not seem obvious to Gansey given that the current song was some kind of angry electric rock and that the playlist had been made by Ronan Lynch and Blue Sargent, but then again, nothing else about their current situation had seemed obvious to him ten minutes ago, either.

“I can’t blast anything as bop-worthy as Britney Spears, or I’ll get caught and then I won’t be able to commit more ecoterrorism.” This Blue directed at Ronan. “You must be a terrible criminal.”

“Fine. ‘Songs to get murdered to’ works just as well.”

Blue punched him in the arm. “That’s insensitive! Gansey’s been murdered!”

Ronan barked out a surprised laugh at that. “Yeah, by you and your kiss of death, Maggot.”

“For the record,” Gansey interjected, “Jane’s kiss of death was vastly preferable to the thousands of hornet stings.”

“What a compliment.” Adam raised an eyebrow and looked from Gansey to Blue.

Ronan snickered. “Congrats, Sargent. Kissing you is slightly better than getting stung to death.”

Blue’s reply was interrupted by the sound of “it’s Britney, bitch,” from the stereo, which sent her scrambling to set the volume to its previous ear-bleeding level.

They carried on like this for a while, Ronan pushing 20 over the speed limit and Blue scream-singing lyrics to songs that almost all had to do with sex, cars, or both. Gansey thought the one about a dreamer in a Beemer seemed a little on the nose, and sentiment Adam voiced moments later.

“I can’t help it if I’m someone’s muse,” came the reply. Blue snorted loudly, and Ronan reached over and pinched her on the exposed skin between the top of her knee socks and her ripped shorts. She slapped his hand and squirmed away.

At one point, Blue sang (if you could call it that, when it was really closer to talking or shouting but set to music) the intro to a song that began, “Hey you lil piss baby,” leaning across the center console to get in Ronan’s face, without missing a single word. In fact, Gansey realized, she knew at least some (if not most) of the words to all of these songs, and he wondered just how many times they’d listened to them together.

The fact that they had coordinated dance moves and established which of them sang specific parts when there were back and forth elements solidified for him that the answer was…many, many times.

This coordination was amusing for the most part. An amused smirk played across Adam’s lips as he watched their stupid dances, and Gansey was just ruminating on how happy and carefree both of them seemed, open in a way he rarely saw from either of them, when their performance jolted him out of his reverie.

Blue was moaning. Loudly.

It was part of the song, of course, the singer’s desire to — like rabbits, with a moan in place of an expletive, blaring over and over through the speakers. Ronan was singing along with the rest of the lyrics. Blue contributed the…interjectory sounds, and apparently took this role very seriously.

When her eyes, glinting mischievously, met his in the rearview mirror, he realized she was doing this on purpose. To mess with him. His mouth finally caught up to his brain, and he spluttered a scandalized, “Jane!”

She threw her head back and cackled gleefully. Ronan fist-bumped her. Gansey’s face felt hot.

“I think you’ve become a bad influence, Lynch,” Adam shouted, but he was failing to suppress his smile.

“If anything,” Ronan shot back, “Sargent’s been a bad influence on me. She’s the one that found most of these songs.”

Gansey wondered at that. He wondered all through the suggestive and outright explicit of the next song as well. He wondered at Blue’s ability to sing along without so much as a blush, all while he tried very hard not to think on any of the images his mind conjured up in response.

But of course, she was dauntless and outspoken in everything she did. He smiled at the mental image of her playing these songs for Ronan, ranting all the while about how women in media are sexualized for male gratification but expected to keep themselves modest and pure, the double-edged sword that is the masculine perception of female sexuality, and raging against the vilification of the women who wrote songs expressing that sexuality while men could objectify women in their song’s as much as they pleased. Gansey wished he could’ve been there for Ronan’s response.

None of that made the upbeat, electronic excuse for music any more aurally appealing, unfortunately.

One song ended with sudden bursts of horrid, metallic clashing sounds at a volume so painful that he, Adam, and even Blue covered their ears. She reached to lower the volume, but Ronan slapped her hand away.

“Come on, Ronan,” Gansey yelled, “this isn’t even music! It’s just…screeching!”

Ronan threw a wolfish grin at him over his shoulder. “I know. It sounds just like the Pig when she breaks down. Does it turn you on, Dick?”

Gansey let out a deep sigh, but before he could defend himself, the song had changed and Blue had let out a little excited yelp.

“I just remembered!” she gasped, grabbing for Ronan’s phone. “Henry gave me a song to play for you. You’re gonna love it.”

Ronan sneered. “I don’t trust Cheng’s taste in music.”

Blue only waved her hand dismissively and fiddled with his phone until a new song, not dissimilar in style to the rest, was playing. A few verses in, Adam began laughing, a full, joyous laugh rarely heard and positively contagious.

“It’s perfect for you, Ro,” he gasped out.

Ronan had to concede that a song about only answering the phone for your boyfriend’s personalized ringtone was rather fitting, even if Henry was the one to recommend it. He didn’t fight Blue when she added it to the playlist, and his threats following her announcement that she was making the song Adam’s ringtone were halfhearted at best.

Looking from Blue and Ronan’s bickering to Adam’s gasping laughter, Gansey tried to take in and file away every detail. He wanted to be able to look back on this moment when they were spread out across the country, to remind himself that the separation was only temporary. His chest felt like it was going to burst.

By the time they got to the Barns, it was his eardrums that felt like they were going to burst.

“Next time,” he groaned, stepping out of the car and into the Virginia summer heat, “I’m bringing ear plugs.”

#oof haven't written any fanfic in a long time #i'm out of practice and not used to these characters y'all #but this idea has been living in my head rent free for like...a week #caroline writes #bronan #the gangsey #the raven cycle #trc #trc fic

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nothingelsematterswrites · 5 years

Text

The Magic Weekend

Okay, I promised you all this post and here it is!

So I had bought my ticket to Queen and Adam Lambert’s Sydney show all the way back in April 2019, when they first went on sale. I looked forward to it for months. During my down periods it kept me going - that I was going to see them live.

And then summer happened.

I’m sure all of you are aware of how bad this Australian summer was. I could write paragraphs and paragraphs about our summer of stress, and sorrow; the thick choking smoke that blanketed my city; staring at fire maps every single day and watching the lines creep ever closer. I was lucky; aside from the smoke, my city did not burn. (Only just.) My brother, a fire fighter, returned exhausted but safe after spending 54 days on various fire fronts.

Instead, I’ll tell you about Fire Fight.

From the instant it was announced I knew Queen would be there. It was the very day after their Sydney concert, at the very same stadium, heck, even using their stage! They had to be there. So, with my New Year’s resolution to be as happy as possible, I bit the bullet and bought a front standing section ticket.

And oh, was I ever rewarded.

But first: their Sydney show. Would you believe it, after the summer we had, my main concern was that we might get flooded out! It is truly all or nothing, here, sometimes. Even as we arrived at Sydney Olympic Park a thunderstorm opened over us; they had to stop people going to their seats because of lightning. We started an hour late but it was so worth it.

You guys, Adam Lambert is literally a genius. If he was a bit younger I might have even suggested that he’d been touched by Freddie’s talent from beyond the grave. He does things with his voice I couldn’t dream was possible. God, Freddie would have loved him. Absolutely adored him. God, Freddie probably would have adopted him!

It didn’t rain a single drop during Queen’s two and a half hour show. Adam asked us to sing along and I did. A week and a half later my voice is still strained. It was so incredible. The use of the video screen was superb, too. At one stage during In The Lap of the Gods...Revisited, the “columns” and buildings on the screens behind them crumbled and broke and fell apart. And then later, during The Show Must Go On, they reassembled. Reminding us, very literally, that the show must go on, even without Freddie and John.

I stumbled back into my hotel room at 1am, slept until 9am, went down to breakfast, and then got ready for Fire Fight.

Fire Fight was literally hours. It started at 1pm local time and finished just before 11pm. It was a long, long, long day. (Somehow I didn’t get sunburnt too badly, either!) I didn’t know a good half the acts but I went to have a good time anyway and ended up enjoying most of them (and might have had a teenage crush on Ronan Keating reawakened).

Queen and Adam Lambert came on at around 8:15pm. The crowd was absolutely buzzing, you guys. This was the star attraction. 5 Seconds of Summer had just whipped us up into a frenzy with how good they were, and now we were waiting for Queen. Spontaneously in different parts of the stadium people would start the stomp-stomp-clap (they kept speeding up). When they ran out on stage, the roar shook the heavens. When they did Bohemian Rhapsody, the crowd sang along. And then Brian hit that transition into Radio Gaga...

...and 77000 people LOST. THEIR. SHIT.

As soon as he did it I knew they were doing Live Aid. The crowd absolutely freaked out. And Adam was spectacular. He kept getting this grin like he could not believe what he was doing and it was so great. In the standing sections, people would sit on the plastic floor whenever it was an act they weren’t as big fans of, or if they just wanted rest. Not for QAL. Not a single person was sitting down for Queen. They walked on, stole that show, and walked off again to chants of “one more song! one more song!”

(And then they did a live cross to Michael Buble, which...I mean he sang well, but how to destroy the energy in a stadium 101, basically.)

A few people left after Queen but I wasn’t going anywhere, because the last act of the night was to be John Farnham. For those who don’t know, he is the greatest Australian singer of all time who came up with one of the greatest songs of all time: the inimitable You’re the Voice. I’d never seen him live, since he “retired” when I was still a teenager and I’d been too broke to see him at various stints since. I’d always wanted to, and now was my chance.

Of course, like everyone else there, I also knew that You’re the Voice would be the last song. Had to be the last song. There were no other choices (since we’d already sung I am Australian earlier in the day). So when he reached near the end of his (incredible) set, with one last song still to do, we knew what it was.

Then he told us he had a treat for us. He introduced us to Mitch Tambo. And then the director picked the wrong camera shot and suddenly Brian May was on the big screen as he walked on stage.

I wish I could describe just what the reaction was. The way the entire stadium just about rose off the ground from the screaming and the cheering. The guys near me who were in total meltdown screaming OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD over and over.

John Farnham and Brian May, two greats, hugging on stage, about to perform one of the all-time great songs.

We screamed the lyrics. We had a beautiful moment where Mitch Tambo sang the second verse in the language of the Gamilaraay people, and we sang back at him in English. United. As one. It was possibly the greatest rendition of this song of all time. Perfect.

And then the fire fighters came out on stage. I’m pretty sure half the stadium cried.

Queen and Adam Lambert might have stolen the show overall, but that song was the next biggest moment of the night.

You guys. It was perfect. I can’t imagine it being any better than that.

#queen + adam lambert #fire fight australia #rambling

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crimeronan · 5 years

Text

daydreamed up a trc ot6 zombie apocalypse au full of drama

the catalysts for this au: “i want ronan injured and dying without a hospital nearby, and i want adam allied with kavinsky and burning up about it inside because he hates it and would never have let this happen if there’d been another choice”

it starts with gansey driving a bmw that’s clearly on its last legs (and who the hell drives anymore anyway) into a place that’s at least Rumored to have a safe human population and pounding on closed doors begging for help — “my best friend’s hurt he needs help” and as the oppressive silence deepens:

“hes not BIT I SWEAR SOMEONE HELP ME PLEASE”

ronan lynch is in the passenger seat of his bmw chalk white and clearly dying because the only scenario in which gansey COULD drive into an unknown town and beg for help is one where ronan is too fucked up to stop him

(and if you think ronan hasn’t somehow managed to take a bullet or two for gansey during this time youd be so incorrect. how does ronan manage to be around so much gunfire the answer is talent)

in some ways adam parrish has gotten everything he could have wanted from life in a way he does Not desire because being a working class hands-on mechanic with an intimate knowledge of cars in the post-apocalypse means sudden social status and influence and import

but he hasn’t Really gotten everything he wanted because hes allied with some people he’d have preferred not to and done some things for survival that keep him awake at night and he doesn’t have Enough power here to stop certain bad people from doing bad things without getting himself killed

gansey’s too exhausted and fried to find the charming personality that’ll move mountains and hes retired to the bmw (which is out of gas) with his head in his hands

and when ronans lucid — which isnt often — he keeps trying to give gansey advice on throwing punches and knocking people out and hotwiring cars and stealing supplies in this urgent way that clearly means he thinks he's not gonna be around to do these things for gansey anymore and this is NOT helping gansey's state of mind

dusk falls and then night falls and gansey's pretty sure he's about to watch ronan die and not be able to do anything about it

and then there's a tap on the window from a guy who looks like he was born from the ashes of the apocalypse and finds the end of the world incredibly irritating because can't someone give existence some other flavors

"i'll give you a tow"

gansey's not about to distrust a miracle so that's how he meets adam parrish

anyway before adam brings the tow truck he's like "i need to look at him" re: ronan because he can see that the guy in the passenger seat is Fucked Up and while it could be an infected wound — anyone with a survival instinct would not sit in a car with a bitten person for hours on end -- it sure wouldn't be the first time adam's seen someone get themselves chomped because they're too fuckdeep in denial to admit their loved one is a lost cause

gansey's like "he's not bit" and adam's like "i hear you but i'm not bringing you anywhere til i know for sure"

and gansey has this moment of realization that this guy is currently ready to kill ronan and will not hesitate to do it and probably has a backup plan for handling gansey too if it comes to that

the difference between adam and gansey as people is much more quickly illustrated in this scenario than in canon

gansey has no plan for what he's gonna do if adam turns out to be one of those "can't risk it, gotta kill everyone with a stubbed toe" types but fortunately for everyone adam doesn't do wanton mass murder for the sake of murder he's just honed himself razor-thin into something extremely callous and practical

adam opens the passenger door and peels away what's left of ronan's tank top and the horribly old horribly unsanitary worn through bandages and he concludes pretty quick that this isn't a case of someone turning zombie but from the look on his face it's pretty fckn clear he doesn't consider the current situation much more hopeful than a turning zombie case

adam's seen the way gansey's called for help and has waited until dark to be sneaky helpful because reasons which means he already knows ronan means a lot to gansey and he already has a preemptive headache about it but he's like

"okay. don't be offended. but. scale of one to ten. how... attached are you to him"

"Excuse Me"

the ensuing whisper-hissed argument basically boils down to gansey going "i don't know how to explain to you that you should care about other people"

and adam going "i don't know how to explain to you that wasting limited medical supplies on people who are gonna die anyway is bad"

and gansey going "okay well i'm not going anywhere without him and i die if he dies so you can leave actually"

and adam being like [most longsuffering person in the universe] "i'll take you guys back to my place"

adam tows them to an old auto body shop that seems to still be serving its pre-apocalypse purpose because when you're a car mechanic who's survived the apocalypse it makes sense to settle down in a structure that's at least optimized for you to work efficiently

as soon as the bmw is safely inside the garage and the door is closed there's a tiny girl there opening the passenger door to look at ronan

(gansey and ronan have remained in the car during the tow instead of being in the tow truck because adam didn't want to move ronan and gansey was not going to leave him)

and she kind of sucks her teeth like she's appraising an unfortunate car wreck like "that's gotta hurt"

gansey's coiled up with adrenaline and ready to have the exact same fight he just had with adam except then she's like "okay let me grab my mom and persephone and whatever medications i can scrounge up hm. this does look really bad"

adam's very tired and in a mood and as he's getting out of the truck he's like "yeah well i tried" and gansey's about to be extremely uncharitable except the girl zeroes the fuck in on this like "you tried what, adam"

adam's like oh my god. am i really gonna have to get it from all sides tonight and she's like "well i know you didn't try fixing him because it's a little more than a bandaid situation"

and adam's like wow i sure have other things to be doing with my time and she's like "you didn't"

and he's like "well look, the guy's ALIVE and HERE isn't he, so if you're gonna accuse me of something let's at least focus on that"

and she's like "ADAM."

gansey immediately likes her

gansey’s also grappling with powerful relief because he and ronan haven’t seen another person in weeks and oh there are people here who can HELP

adam and blue continue fighting literally the entire time they're going to get maura and persephone and when they come back and when they're helping get a semiconscious ronan out of the car

they pretty clearly do this a lot because somehow even as they're each ripping into the other about their flaws they're also working together and with maura and persephone in terms of taking physical positions to move ronan and keep him stable and like. they're not interrupting their argument with ronan-positioning commentary they're just managing to argue and instinctively move with each other anyway with no pause

gansey feels one grudging half smidgen iota of gratefulness (which would be full-blown gratefulness if he wasn't determined to have a grudge) at one point which is

when they're moving ronan onto a makeshift stretcher or w/e and there's really no painless way to do it no matter how gentle and careful they are and ronan YELLS and tries to sit up like what the FUCK is happening

and gansey's been keeping out of the way but he's like oh okay i am needed now and it's maybe three seconds before he's at ronan's side

but in that span of time adam's managed to push ronan back down and is very quietly calmly explaining the situation to him without any hint of his earlier irritation or exasperation

and gansey's like so relieved that this guy is apparently practiced enough with injured people to have developed a calm bedside manner but he's also like fuck that i'm mad at you and you're a dick

the interior of the shop has been converted into an apartment space that didn't technically have two floors at first but sort of does now thanks to the miracle of loft construction and having too much time on ur hands

maura and persephone have the stretcher w/ adam spotting and blue drags gansey inside so they'll be out of the way

there's a blonde kid wearing a t-shirt and boxers with naruto bedhead who has the wide-eyed alertness of someone who woke up five minutes ago but now must be part of the adventure

and blue's like "this is noah, he FAINTS AT THE SIGHT OF BLOOD"

and noah's like "oh yeah i do don't i" and scampers up to the loft and disappears before the stretcher can enter

up in the loft a different voice says "THAT IS MY RIB" and then an entirely new guy (how many are they keeping up there) descends also in boxers and a t-shirt like "will someone please inform the resident golden retriever that i am a fragile waif who must not be disturbed"

he reaches the landing just in time to see the stretcher being carried in.

gansey's not really focused on him because he's watching ronan. anyway instead of reacting like a normal human being to the sudden appearance of drama the guy leans against blue's shoulder and in the most put-upon tone imaginable is like "blue you must start informing me when half-naked attractive wounded men are being carried through the kitchen so i can do my hair"

blue's like "this is henry. he's returning to the void now. henry get out"

the thing is after this expression of apparently complete disinterest in the ronan situation henry touches blue's elbow and the two of them exchange a quick look that gansey catches despite his focus on ronan

because gansey is exquisitely versed in the language of subtle glances and very slightly angled eyebrows or mouths

ronan's getting successfully laid out on the couch and persephone's about to do what she can (in my head she's a medical doctor in this au bc can u imagine) and the situation is about as handled as it can be for now and there's nothing gansey can do except get in the way

and he does have the presence of mind to realize he doesn't know much about these people yet and should be cautious and learn what he can

so when henry and blue casually walk out the back door into the much cooler evening gansey..... sort of follows them

there's not a lot of room to do hardcore sneaking so he can't get close enough to hear all of the conversation but he sure can see that henry looks more worried than the flippant cool boy he was just introduced to

and he thinks he might hear henry mention someone named "kay"??

and then he most fucking definitely hears blue's snapped reply of "don't even start, adam's bad enough, i'm NOT putting up with it from you" and then gansey has to very quickly duck back inside because the pair of them are turning back toward the house

that’s about all i’ve got for this scene but here’s additional important content

eventually gansey asks blue why so many people drop in and out of the auto shop all the time because there's clearly not room for literally all of them to be sleeping there permanently and no one except adam seems all that interested in mechanics

and what he's really asking but trying to be polite about is "you clearly don't agree with this asshole's principles so how are so many seemingly normal people giving him the time of day"

(gansey is used to being on the receiving end of this conversation wrt ronan, he's never been the one asking before, it's weird, he's puzzled)

and he gets SUCH fucking whiplash when the answer turns out to be "because adam's saved every single one of our lives"

blue's like "also he's my best friend and i love him i'm not enslaved via blood debt or something but y'know. the loyalty is hard to shake"

gansey has a very unpleasant realization of "adam protects these people like ronan protects me" and wants to unrealize it because that makes it a lot harder to hold a grudge suddenly

adam has no way of gauging how far is too far or how callous is too callous except that blue's there to be like "you sound like a supervillain and should take a nap" at any given moment

ronan has to take a while recovering and the fact that he sleeps a lot and slips in and out of consciousness means plenty of people have partial or full conversations in his earshot assuming he's not listening

so he's gleaning a lot about these people and how they function and what's up with kavinsky’s stranglehold on the town and adam’s proximity to him

which means the first time he's clear-headed enough to have a lucid conversation with adam the first words out of his mouth are "so who's holding your leash"

the second words out of his mouth are “are they gonna hurt gansey”

ronan: are they gonna hurt gansey adam: he wont do anything to anyone staying here first of all i’d stop being useful second of all i don’t let him in here ronan: [swinging his legs off the couch] cool cool adam: WHAT are you doing ronan: you’re out of your fucking mind if you think i’m gonna keep gansey around some bullshit chaos worshipping hell cult i’m taking my fucking car and finding a microsociety that isn’t taking pointers from mad fucking max adam: you’re in no shape to drive and i haven’t even fixed your car yet ronan: [standing, doing his best to Loom, clearly squaring up for a fistfight because that’s how he settles everything] oh yeah?? who’s gonna stop me gansey, from the doorway: me. you’re bleeding through your bandages, lynch

#ronsey #the six of them eventually form a polycule but this opener is HEAVILY ronsey #bludam #trc #ronan lynch #gansey #blue sargent #henry cheng #noah czerny #adam parrish #there's also some #sarcheng #and #pynch #i'm SO SORRY to the mobile users who have to scroll past this i put a read more but tumblr mobile loves murder

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nonbinaryparrish · 5 years

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this is a love story - a playlist for @charactershoesfic fic ‘seek ye the living’

listen to the playlist here read the fic here image credit: thisherelight

tracklist + explanations under the cut :)

nonbeliever - lucy dacus

“you threw your books into the river / told your mama you’re a nonbeliever / she said she wasn’t surprised / but that doesn’t make it ok”

this song has always struck me as being a combination of being about adam parrish, and of being adam parrish addressing other characters. plus, the obligatory ‘artist raised christian from virginia writes song about christianity’ song that had to make it into a playlist for a fic about repressed gay virginian (sorta) christians.

nothing fades like the light - orville peck

“some say i should learn to cry / but i only ever learned how to fight / and i know everything must die / but nothing fades like the light”

we all know how fleabag s2 ended, right? everything good comes to an end. also, gay cowboys. also also, vibes for both adam and ronan tbh.

brakelights - omar apollo

“days by, baby i don’t got no brakelights / my car turns off when i go fast / why would you want me?”

an anthem for repressed, self loathing gays who haven’t yet gone on beautiful journeys of embracing their sexuality + discovering self worth.

smoke signals - phoebe bridgers

“one of your eyes is / always half shut / something happened when you were a kid / i didn’t know you then / and i’ll never understand / why it feels like i did / “how soon is now?” in an ‘80s sedan / you slept inside of it because your dad / lived in a campground in the back of a van / you said that song will creep you out until you’re dead”

in my opinion, this is the ultimate pynch song, particularly this verse. the idea of actively searching for your lover is also a very pynch idea, to me. plus, the atmosphere of the song is so fitting of both the fic and trc as a whole.

blue eyes - elton john

“blue eyes laughing in the sun / laughing in the rain / baby’s got blue eyes / and i am home, and i am home again”

a pynch love song :^). but also a lil sad !

weird around you - eerie summers

“i feel so weird around you / i've never really been in love / i keep my words and my problems / i'd rather keep it bottled up”

making things hard for yourself, aka chapter 7 of ‘seek ye the living’.

mirrored heart - fka twigs

“but i’m never gonna give up / though i’m probably gonna think about you all the time”

“i love you” “it’ll pass” (”i love you, too”).

because of the shame - against me!

“i watched your mother bury you today with tears in her eyes / it wasn’t her words that shook me, but the resemblance you share”

very specifically about ronan + noah, friends who got high in a church graveyard together. also about that scene in the raven boys where they watch the czernys finally get to bury their son’s body.

softly and tenderly - johnny cash

“earnestly, tenderly, jesus is calling / calling, oh, sinner come home.”

adam drives ronan home in his hondayota down a narrow virginian country lane at night. they can see bugs zipping past in the dim headlights, and johnny cash’ ‘softly and tenderly’ is playing on the radio. as adam focuses on the road, ronan stares at him from the passenger seat; the longer he stares, the more crackly and distorted the sound of the radio becomes, until he can barely make out the words anymore. suddenly, adam slams the brakes and makes a rather blasphemous comment for a seminarian. ronan stares out the windshield - a fox stares back at the headlights, its eyes glowing. the radio returns to normal.

#the raven cycle #trc #pynch #adam parrish #ronan lynch #fic rec #playlist #please if u can read the explanations for the tracks :^)#i cant get over this fic and i can't stop reading it even though i KNOW. I KNOW how s2 of fleabag endedddd!!!!!!!#mine #EDIT: REALISED I NEVER PUT THE LINK TO THE DAMN PLAYLISTTTT LAKSDJFLSDKJFSLDJFLSDJFLS IM SO DUMB

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lynnkn · 5 years

Text

You can plan on me

Hey! Here’s my gift for @pastelle-pvnk for Pynch Secret Santa 2019 hosted by @pynchpromptweek. They wanted to see the boys happy, and in love, so I hope I delivered on that!

Pairing: Adam Parrish/Ronan Lynch

Words: 2,878

Warnings: One Call Down the Hawk spoiler. It’s a super tiny spoiler, but if you want to go into CDTH knowing absolutely nothing, beware!

Summary: Ronan trusts Adam. He trusts that Adam's recent odd behavior has more to do with Christmas than anything bad. That doesn't mean he isn't curious.

Read it on AO3!

The sun did nothing to warm the December chill sweeping through Henrietta and particularly the Aglionby parking lot. Ronan cranked up the heat in the BMW and pulled his jacket tighter around himself.

He urged the bell to ring sooner. The students were only moments away from Christmas break. Many of them would return to their families in D.C. or wherever the bourgeoisie gathered. But he was only interested in one particular Raven boy.

Okay, that was probably unfair to Gansey, but he was returning to Alexandria for two weeks of family stuff. Personally, Ronan would rather saw off his left arm and then pay someone to do the right than spend a week with the Gansey cult, but he understood…mostly.

It was Adam he was waiting for.

A bell rang throughout the campus, and the lot flooded with rowdy teenage boys, reveling in the first moments of freedom. Ronan slid down in his seat, hoping to avoid eye contact with his former peers. At one point, he probably would’ve sought them out to scare them off with an uncomfortable stare or a violent swing of his fist. But he was trying to fly under the radar as much as possible lately, especially when it came to Aglionby boys.

He didn’t care what they thought of him, whether they knew he was gay, but Adam still had to talk to these people every day. They were his classmates, and if they knew he was dating Ronan, the next few months would be torture.

A crowd of boys parted to reveal Henry, Gansey, and Adam, marching toward him. Adam’s hair was wind-swept, and the bags under his eyes were thicker and darker than usual. Gansey did nothing more than wave to him, unsurprisingly supportive of their choice to keep things quiet, as Adam stealthily broke away from the group to slip into the passenger seat. The sun bounced off the thin layer of snow outside and backlit Adam enough to make him look ethereal. He was all harsh angles and worn-out eyes. He’d been so busy over the past few weeks that Ronan had barely seen him, between finals and a few extra shifts he’d picked up at work. Ronan wasn’t ever sure if Adam had been sleeping, let alone when.

But when the door was shut, and they turned to look at each other, Adam smiled. It was a rare and beautiful thing that smile, and Ronan still didn’t understand what provoked it.

“Hi,” Adam said when Ronan remained hypnotized by the small sliver of teeth.

“Hi,” he said.

He allowed himself another moment to stare before he started the car, tearing out of the parking lot. It was probably not as inconspicuous as Adam would have preferred, but he’d been so distracted he’d defaulted to his usual driving habits.

But Adam didn’t say anything, and Ronan kept driving until they got to the Sheetz just outside of Henrietta. He whipped around the curve and into the lot, nearly taking out a flower bed in the process. And once the car was stopped, he leaned over the center console to kiss Adam. It was their first in nearly a week.

It was nothing special, except that he was kissing Adam Parrish, which always felt a bit like a dream. Like at any moment, it could all go wrong. But no. They were safe. They were together. They were hungry.

They got sandwiches, and fries, and mac and cheese bites, and Adam let Ronan pay without saying a word. It was odd but less so than it would have been before. They took their food back to the Barns and spread out across the couch, laying down a layer of napkins and unpacking all of the food in front of them. Opal bounced excited around them as she always did when Adam came over.

Adam, with a face full of burger and a cautiously raised eyebrow, watched him, making Ronan realize he was staring. It was such a soft gesture he wanted to break something to release the tension. Instead, he leaned forward and stole a fistful of Adam’s fries and stuffed them in his mouth.

Adam huffed. “Asshole.”

It was so beautiful, he knew it had to be temporary. “When do you have to leave for work?”

Adam took a bite of his sandwich and chewed thoughtfully. “I have the day off.”

Something in Ronan’s chest burst and he took in a breath. “That’s awesome.” He’s caught off-guard by his own enthusiasm, but he’d missed his boyfriend. He’d spent most of the last two months terrified that Adam would wake up from whatever weird fugue state he was in, realize what he was doing, and run.

“It is,” Adam said with a quiet laugh.

“How’d you fucking swing that?” Ronan said, overcome with suspicion. The warehouse had been busy for the past few weeks, which was why Adam had taken on extra shifts.

Adam threw a wrapper on the floor, and Opal swooped in, shoving the paper in her mouth. “I made it work.” He flopped casually against Ronan’s side, pressed so close his hair brushed against Ronan’s collarbone. He suppressed a shiver.

That night, lying in his bed, with Adam asleep beside him, he sent up a silent prayer. “Thank you,” he whispered into the dark and silence.

And in the kitchen the next morning, when Adam said he had the rest of the week off, he allowed himself to enjoy it instead of asking questions. Adam would tell him if there was something wrong. He was almost sure of it.

Declan and Matthew arrived on the 23rd, and it began to properly feel like Christmas. Their last Christmas had been a disaster, but that probably had to do with their recently buried father and their mother in a magical coma. Declan had been more tolerable than usual during their last few phone calls.

He also didn’t technically know Ronan and Adam were dating. Ronan was sure he had his suspicions, but he’d refused to outright confirm or deny anything.

Adam didn’t seem to mind playing the role of casual dude friend. He was even good at it, which was both very annoying and very attractive. Ronan made sure to tell him that as they kissed, both of them pressed against the wall of Ronan’s bedroom.

“It’s cause we were friends first, jackass,” Adam said.

Ronan was quite sure his feelings for Adam had never been platonic, but he didn’t mention that. “Still,” he said. “They should give you a fucking Oscar for that.” He traced the vein the ran along the side of Adam’s temple with his finger. “I thought the fist bump was particularly sexy.”

“Don’t say that. I fist bump Gansey.”

Ronan went in for another kiss, and Adam gracefully glided the door shut, taking care to avoid slamming it.

As Ronan got dressed for Mass, he thought about Adam alone at the house and briefly considered staying behind with him. It seemed like a dick-move to leave Adam alone on Christmas Eve, but Matthew had been excited for all three Lynch bothers to attend Christmas Eve Mass together again. Considering Ronan was the one missing the previous year, as he was passed out drunk in the back of the BMW, he felt he owed it to his younger brother.

He went downstairs to find Opal sitting on the kitchen counter, chewing a can of Coke. Ronan took it from her to pop it open before handing it back. She promptly dumped the soda into the sink beside her and continued to chew on the can. Ronan gave an indignant huff, more for show than anything.

Footsteps drew his attention to the staircase. Adam stood at the top, hair neatly combed back, and Ronan’s tie hanging loosely around his neck.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m going with you.”

“You are?”

“What? You worried I’m going to burn if I walk in the front door?” His face drooped, and he pulled back, suddenly shy. “Is it okay if I come?”

Ronan’s skepticism grew. Adam had never shown any interest in attending service with them. He usually worked on Sundays, and Ronan had assumed that was intentional. He’d always thought Adam’s aversion to the church wasn’t just a product of his work schedule.

He fought to keep the curious look off his face. “I guess,” he said. His face split into a wicked grin. “But only if you’re willing to take the chance.”

“Hasn’t happened to you yet,” Adam said.

“Whatever you say, sinner.”

Declan thankfully didn’t comment as Adam followed them out to the Volvo. He caught Ronan’s eyes across the top of the vehicle and raised his eyebrow. Ronan made a point of not looking. He’d come out to both Declan and Matthew earlier in the month, as casually and cooly as he could. They took it well. Although Declan took it too far, going into a speech about how proud he was of Ronan for sharing. It had been so disgusting, Ronan had been forced to give him a wet willy to end the torture.

He didn’t care what Declan thought of him or of Adam for that matter. Still, he wasn’t ready to tell him yet. It felt like the kind of conversation that would end in a fight, and Ronan was trying to keep the peace for Matthew’s sake.

The four of them piled into the Volvo. Ronan let Matthew have shotgun and slipped into the backseat, across from Adam, who was wringing his hands into an anxious knot. Once Declan started the car and had his eyes locked on the road in front of them, Ronan reached over to place his palm over them. He felt the tension drain from Adam’s muscles. He never thought such pleasures were even an option for someone like him. He was so happy, he didn’t complain about Declan’s speed once.

“I’ve gotta grab something upstairs, Adam said as he climbed from the car. “I’ll meet you in the sanctuary in a minute.” He vanished upstairs, leaving the Lynch brothers gathered in a small semi-circle in the gravel lot.

Ronan pushed past his brothers, hoping to avoid any questions. They found their usual seats, and Ronan left a space next to him. Adam slipped into it when he came back downstairs. “What’d you need to get?”

Adam shrugged and turned his attention forward as the service began. He casually stuffed his hands into his pockets. “It’s the time of year for secrets.”

Ronan turned as well, letting his gaze linger.

After Mass, they returned to the Barns where they dug into some Christmas cookies Declan bought for Matthew on their way into town. Soon Declan and Matthew went to bed, and Opal lept out the door in pursuit of a rabbit she saw run past the window.

Adam and Ronan settled into the living room and spent some time flipping through various Christmas specials. Adam had seen most of them, to Ronan’s surprise. “This is all we did at school the week before Christmas,” he said. “You haven’t seen all of these?”

“Dad used to tell us stories,” he said. “But with a lot more swords and a lot less holiday spirit.”

“Sure,” Adam said sarcastically. “Did the heroes kill Santa?”

“Only sometimes,” he said. “Sometimes, they slayed snow monsters or demons.” He looked up and caught Adam grinning at him, fighting back laughter. “Don’t stare at me like that, Parrish. I had a perfectly fucking normal childhood.”

“You did?” Adam said through a laugh. “Sure. I believe that.”

“I did. I saw all the Veggie Tales Christmas specials.”

That was apparently too much for Adam, who threw himself backward on the couch, howling and smiling. Ronan couldn’t help but lean forward to kiss him. He took more pride in that damn smile than in any dream he’d ever dreamt. Dreaming was easy. Making Adam Parrish smile was not.

As their lips touched, something beeped below them. Ronan brushed it off. He had no reason to answer his phone with Declan and Matthew upstairs and Adam right next to him. He considered Gansey or Blue, but they were both with their families, and they knew to leave him a message if he didn’t answer right away.

Then Adam flinched below him, pulling himself out and stumbling to the kitchen with a mumbled, “I need a drink.”

Ronan followed him, watching as he patted his pockets and shuffled out of the room.

The kitchen was dark, and Ronan could only barely make out the silhouette standing by the counter. Even if he hadn’t known though, hunched shoulders and wiry arms would have given him away.

“What are you doing?”

His head snapped up meerkat-like and panicked. Guilt twinged in his gut and approached cautiously. He stepped forward but left a large space between them, trying to leave room for Adam to close the gap, trying to give him the chance to control the situation.

Even in the dark, he could make out the illuminated glow of a cell phone in his hand. For a moment, Ronan thought Adam had grabbed his phone from the coffee table, but it was easy to tell this was a new phone. There was a default background on the screen, and there wasn’t a single scratch or crack on it.

“I didn’t steal it,” Adam said, which was stupid because he wasn’t about to fucking accuse him of stealing it. Ronan let him continue talking anyway. “I just thought I might need one when I start school, and I had a little money leftover last month.”

Last month. Had Adam really had a cell phone for a whole month and not brought it up to Ronan at all?

“It’s prepaid, and I don’t have service in many places, but it’s something.”

“Yeah. It’s something,” Ronan said, tentative and nervous. Were there other secrets? “Why’d you take the whole week off?” he asked before he could reign in his words.

“I wanted to spend time with you. Was that not okay?” Adam said in a tight, panicked voice that made Ronan hate himself. He never wanted Adam to sound like that again. More than that, he never wanted to be the reason Adam sounded like that.

“No,” he interjected quickly. “I have to know, man,” he said panting. He leaned his forehead against Adam’s. “Did you get fired or something?”

“Don’t call me man while we’re doing this,” Adam said, gesturing to their proximity and the way Ronan’s hand cupped the back of his neck. It was fair, but also a diversion.

“Adam,” he pleaded. “What’s going on with you?”

“Merry Christmas.”

Ronan waited for a punch line or further elaboration, but Adam remained locked in position, eyes forward and posture straight. When Ronan continued to stare, confused and sleepy, Adam rolled his eyes and pulled the phone back out. He swiped away a text from Gansey to show Ronan a calendar. It was color-coded and meticulously labeled. His work schedule was marked with green, and classes and homework were blue. Unlabeled red boxes covered the screen. Everything was perfectly mapped out until mid-February.

“I don’t have money, and even if I did…” Adam paused, sucking in a nervous breath. “You can make anything you want, so I had to find something you couldn’t create yourself.” He took Ronan’s hand in his, pressing his thumb to Ronan’s palm. “I realized the best thing I could give you was my time. I’m ready to do this. I’m not half-assing this.”

This was the Adam Parrish Ronan knew, full of ambition and pride. A chip on his shoulder and a fire in his belly. God, Ronan missed him, and he hadn’t even left yet.

“You’ve never half-assed anything in your life.”

“When I leave, I’m coming back. When I’m at school or work, just wait until I’m done cause I promise I’ll be back.” He held the phone up again, gesturing to the red boxes on the calendar. “These are yours. And all this empty space is yours too, if you need it.”

Ronan pulled him forward, hands grasping the collar of his shirt and kissed him again, pausing to remember what it felt like when Adam Parrish’s lips pressed against his. Adam was going to leave, and it was going to hurt, but sometimes after a drought, came a flood and Ronan was comfortable waiting.

The light flicked on over them, startling them both back against the counter. Declan stood in the doorway, with a tired expression and a deep sigh. “Saw that coming,” he said, flicking the light back off. “Merry Christmas, Ronan,” he called over his shoulder.

“Merry Christmas, asshole,” Ronan yelled back, wiping his lips on his shirt sleeve.

Declan stuck his head back into the kitchen. “Merry Christmas, Parrish,” he said. “Welcome to the family.”

Ronan worried that would be enough to scare Adam off, but instead, he let out an anxious laugh. “Merry Christmas, Declan.”

In the morning, they’d open presents, and Adam would get to see the watch Ronan had dreamt for him. Because they’d always have time for one another. Because no matter what, they’d make it work. This was going to work, goddamnit.

#pynch #trc #call down the hawk #cdth spoilers #adam parrish #ronan lynch #raven fools #my fic

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