Open Post and Meme Overflow

[affection_for_research]

 

Open Post and Meme Overflow

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[affection_for_research]

(Continued from here)

Technically, it's our roof, not yours.

How would I find any privacy for that?

For deathnglitter

[affection_for_research]

(Continued from here)

Do we want him to clean his room? Who knows what might be in there.

👻

[deathnglitter]

trust me
You want him to clean it
I’ve been in there
It’s terrifying
And sort of cool

For givethemhale

[affection_for_research]

(continued from here)

I've been training long enough that my core and legs are not an issue.

I think Ronan and I will be getting a punching bag soon. A soccer ball will probably disappear.

[givethemhale]

Then what is the issue with kicking?

There you go. He'll help you throw one. Why?

For parrishthethought

[affection_for_research]

(continued from here)

In the past, I sounded more like Ronan.

It doesn't, but this was the first time that I lost this much time while I was in the Camaro.

Looks like I may be the designated driver permanently.

[parrishthethought]

Hours?

for aberth

[affection_for_research]

(continued from here)

The Princess and the Frog instead?

After work? We can eat something and watch it until the medicine starts working.

[aberth]

are you the frog? because i'm not kissing you while i'm sick. that's how contagions happen.

[Text]

[ghostandglitter]

... What did you do?!?

[affection_for_research]

What are you talking about?

[Text]

[makerofdreams]

I thought you warned them that having me there was dangerous.

Also, come to the Barns with me.

[Text]

[affection_for_research]

When have Ganseys been known for avoiding dangerous things?

Tonight?

[affection_for_research]

(continued from here)

His curiosity demanded that he keep texting Noah until he gave some hint of what was going on, but Gansey told himself to be patient. He was driving home. He could wait five minutes until he saw Noah again. It might be more than five minutes but that reminder kept him from bombarding Noah with texts.

Getting out of the Pig, he carefully leaned against the door, wary of sun warmed metal and scratching the paint. Eventually Noah would arrive and Gansey's questions would be answered.

[ghostandglitter]

It takes Noah a little bit before he gets to Monmouth, but that was only because he was taking his time. This was something that was big to him. Something that he was trying not to even really think about. Especially when he'd done it on accident. However, it had amused him and he'd wanted to show Gansey first. He'd been there with him through a lot.

So, when he stops the car in the lot he steps out and gives Gansey a bright smile," Hey!"

For embodier

[affection_for_research]

(continued from here)

I'm not your emergency contact. They're going to call him.

I'm in the parking lot.

Do we have to worry about police too?

[embodier]

when you get here i'm turning my phone off

no i gave them some bullshit story about a kitchen accident

TFLN Overflow - For embodier

[affection_for_research]

(ooc: Continued from here

You said that I could study it and I've been waiting to do that since it healed.

[That tattoo has been driving him mad since Ronan came home with it. Either it distracted him as he tried to decipher the images stretched across Ronan's back or as he tried not to imagine what it'd be like to feel inked skin beneath his fingertips.]

I'm going to try again. I just have to decide which method would be best.

And which I think that you'd agree to.

TFLN Overflow - For embodier

[affection_for_research]

(continued from here)

I thought they didn't like me.

[Even without counting the Night Horrors, Gansey assumed that they wouldn't be that interested in him. Except Chainsaw, of course. They both had raised her.]

Or, at best, they tolerated me.

[embodier]

you're kidding, right? have you not noticed the deer following you around

for corve

[affection_for_research]

(ooc: continued from here)

I hope that it's learned. That means that it can be changed.

[Does he want to change that aspect of his life? Most of the time he'd think no, but tonight it's easy to consider all those things he's supposed to ignore and what he isn't supposed to want. He's tired of being the next generation of genteel politics, trotted out whenever there's a photo op.

He misses Henrietta and the person he can be there. He misses being the person who drives the Pig and drives aimlessly with Ronan late at night. The one who can ramble about Welsh history without worrying that someone will be offended that he's not talking about the latest round of tax laws.

The invitation to get away isn't quite the one he wants. A twinge of guilt accompanies that thought, knows that it's because the others are so much apart of home and his life. Then he tells himself that he's allowed to have other friends and to be friends with an ex. Meeting someone isn't inappropriate. Missing the others doesn't mean that he's using someone else.

Considering how easy it would be to sneak out and to get a ride somewhere, he texts back an address to a coffee shop where the suit won't be too out of place.]

It'll take at leas an hour for me to get there.

[corve]

If anyone can break the cycle, it’s you.

[ Ronan likes that answer because he knows that Gansey isn’t anything like the person that he pretends to be for whatever dumb party, fundraiser, or charity dinner he’s forced to attend. Ronan knows the real Gansey deep down — the one that stays up all night translating books from languages that Ronan didn’t even know existed, the one that prefers Nino’s Pizza over Filet Mignon, the one that would rather live in the dusty walls of Monmouth than in some million-dollar Brownstone.

That’s his Gansey. The one that only a few people are supposed to see. And truth be told, he likes it that way. Ronan’s ferociously possessive over his friends.

He plugs the address into his phone’s GPS. It’s a place he’s never heard of a couple of hours away, but Ronan knows that he can easily make it there in half the time. Probably less if he really wanted to put the BMW to the test. ]

I’ll be there.

[ He pushes himself out of the bed, picking up a few pieces of clothes that he deems clean by way of smell-checking and changes into them — black ripped-denim jeans, a black fitted t-shirt with a leather jacket thrown over top. — before grabbing his keys and slipping out the front door. ]

[makerofdreams]

or

[affection_for_research]

For what?

what we bargain with

[existandbleed]

[It's late evening, still and quiet in that way that only small towns like Henrietta ever are. The stars just starting to shine, to twinkle through the cloud cover of a summer afternoon as the blue sky turns to twilight, shades of pink and orange and violet in colors that are almost too bright to seem real. Gansey's out where Cabeswater used to be, so that's where Adam goes, pulling the Hondayota up next to the Pig.

He brought pizza from Nino's: sausage and avocado deep dish, just big enough for two, two styrofoam cups of iced tea. It's sort of like a peace offering, like something to say that he knows this is strange, but he doesn't want to fight any more than Gansey.

Adam had worked it out in the middle of his shift at Boyd's. It had been a rough day where he worked two jobs, after spending the day at school, running around to make sure all the papers were in for graduation, paying the fees for his cap and gown and his framed diploma and fighting against the small, ugly voice that reminded him no one would be there. It's the touch of something cool when he needs it most, a whisper of leaves against the back of his neck, like nothing had changed.

He'd been the one talking to Cabeswater, working out what it could offer these teens that had no right to ask for everything, but for Gansey they did it anyway. And Adam spends the rest of his shift having some rather unkind thoughts as kneejerk panic sets in his veins, even when he knows better. He's glad he's still at work because it means he can't say any of them outloud. It also gives him something to do with his hands, a way to work through the feelings, truths he couldn't have accepted when he'd offered up his eyes and hands. But he does know better now, even it takes him a bit to get there.

For the rest of the day, he's glad with how busy Boyd's is: the rush of the summer before the weather turns, rehabilitating a convertible someone had left sitting in the garage for nine months. By the end of his shift, his thoughts have worked back around to the thought that he's not sure if Gansey and Cabeswater were ever really different things.

Adam takes a too-long, blisteringly hot shower of the sort that he rarely lets himself indulge in, then stops by Nino's, and he focuses. Like he used to -- calibrating himself to Cabeswater, asking the question: where? The He supposes he shouldn't be surprised where he finds him, out where the trees used to be, where Gansey had turned the fish red, made them dance through the air, when this place was more than it is now. He kicks the car door shut, drinks in one hand, pizza in the other.

This isn't an accident. The fact that it worked is a truth of its own.]

Hey.

[affection_for_research]

[It'd been a long day. Sitting in class had been torture. Not because they were so close to graduation, but because something left him edgy, needing to be away from four walls. Away from anyone that wasn't Ronan or Adam. Or just simply away.

He'd fielded calls from his mother, settling the details of their visit for graduation, failing to avoiding the gentle reproves over his decision to take a gap year. He couldn't tell her why. He could barely explain it to himself let alone his parents who thought magic was a hobby, a fantasy that came from reading too many legends at a young age.

Eventually, he'd had to leave Monmouth and Henrietta behind, driving aimlessness until he wasn't, guided by something that takes him to a pretty little corner of Virginia that he knew had literally been magic. He knows that he should be careful. Hornets and snakes and other unpleasant things lurked in the grass, but he knows nothing here will hurt him.

He wanders away from the Pig until he finds the right spot, spreading an old tattered blanket that he'd picked up in a thrift store on the ground beneath a tree that's a ghost of what Cabeswater had been. He spends most of the day lazing in the shade dappled sunlight, feeling the roots of the land beneath his back and the peace of the sky seeping into his bones. It's one of the few times that he doesn't have to hide, to pretend everything is normal and nothing had changed. The walls could slip away and he could just exist within himself and outside of himself.

Sometime during the afternoon he felt something worrisome. Taking a slow breath, he thought of soft, cool leaves and the welcoming presence Cabeswater had had in the early days. It isn't directed toward himself. Gansey isn't certain where that thought or spell or whatever is is had went but he had the odd feeling that it's needed somewhere.

He stays there until the air cools, the sky shading toward twilight, almost unmoving except occasionally sipping from a bottle of water beside him. When he hears a car creeping toward the Pig, he at first, assumes it's Ronan, but the engine doesn't have the same tone as the BMW. He also feels something different - something he tries not to think about - than what he'd sense if Ronan was near.

Adam.

He knows it even before the Hondayota is in sight, his heart tripping strangely before something velvety and green brushes against his thoughts. Watching Adam move toward him, he isn't sure if he should be happy to see one of his best friends or feel something akin to dread. The box from Nino's and the cups give no clue to the reason for this visit. They're so foreign to Adam who saves every penny that he can't really comprehend Adam buying food for himself let alone both of them. He still manages to smile despite his confusion, the greenness feeling almost eager in the back of his mind.]

Hey. I didn't expect anyone to... [Find me.] Be out here this late.

am i living or is this just existing?

[declanisms]

[It's the middle of summer and Declan's just finished his first year of college, opting to skip summer classes to put more time in at his internship, with July already a flurry of activity with eyes on the November election months. It's a cicada year, so the sidewalks outside are covered in insects like some sort of biblical plague as the humidity frays the veneer of good grace that people try to hide themselves behind. But inside the hall of the charity event where Declan finds himself, the air is climate controlled- perfectly placid, just like the smiles on the faces that surround him.

Normally, normally, this is where he thrives. At least, he thrives when he allows himself the luxury of seeming particularly good at anything, of drawing that much attention to himself. Tonight he vanishes into the shadows of the people around him. People who are allowed to want things, to have goals and chase after what they want, pursue their desires recklessly, selfishly. His head is buzzing as he sips at a flute of champagne, so as not to stand out to much -- he doesn't want to seem like he's not enjoying himself. To draw questions from a host or his employer or another candidate for the fall season.

Around him DC's elite mingles and rubs elbows and tries to seem like they wouldn't knife one another in a dark parking lot over a better endorsement. Somehow he can't quite convince himself that any of this is real. He feels like he's under water, and the conversations around him don't reach his ears. Distantly he thinks that the ringing in his head sounds a little bit like screaming.

He feels unsteady on his feet. His pulse is racing, and his skin feels flushed to the point that Declan steals a glance at his reflection in one of the windows that show the beautiful and highly paid for view the balcony overlooks. None of the unbalanced horror seems to show on his face, but somehow that makes it even worse. It's like the image of himself that he's looking at isn't him at all. Like the suit he wears isn't his at all, like the tie around his neck with its perfectly tied half-windsor knot is trying to hang him, like he's wearing someone else's skin.

He looks away, takes a sip of his drink, and the world feels like it's spinning around him. He finds himself shaking someone's hand, words coming out of his mouth like a reflex, continuing the masquerade that nothing is wrong because there's no other choice. There is no world where Declan is allowed to stop, allowed to not be capable of carrying everyone else in his life.

His face fakes a laugh, but Declan feels totally divorced from the process, and moments, minutes, maybe hours later the person he'd been talking to fades back into the crowd of people that stick to the floors like the insects outside. He should be thinking of connections and contacts, but instead all he can think of is a conversation with Matthew the night before. Going into Junior year after the summer, which would mean SAT tests and college tours and inevitable application processes. Declan had asked if he'd started thinking about what sort of college he wanted to attend. His youngest brother hadn't actually said that he intended to just live with Declan forever, but it had been there on the air, there in his beatific ambivalence. It was in the shrug of his shoulders, in the way he said DC isn't so bad, and his eyes seemed to narrow down until it was all that he could see.

In truth, Declan was about halfway into a panic attack, but he was so blind to his own needs he hadn't actually noticed.]

[affection_for_research]

[It's been a long night, even by Gansey standards. The past few weeks haven't been easy. Any time when there are insects everywhere is never going to be easy on Gansey, but his breakup with Blue hadn't made things easier to deal with.

It'd been mutual, no real fault other than they love each other but they don't fit well together. She'll be fine, off being an activist with Henry, while Gansey's stuck at another boring political function. He tries to imagine Blue at this sort of event and almost grimaces. Another reason why they hadn't worked out. She couldn't understand how he could smile and be gracious to people with opposing views, not realizing the smiles were meant to coax those constituents into reconsidering their opinions, perhaps spending money on more noble causes.

He's making the usual rounds when he spots a familiar form. For a moment, he feels a pang of something he can't quite identify. Declan looks enough like Ronan for him to pause, until he sees the dark, curling hair and the features that belong to Aurora instead of Niall. He's obviously a Lynch, obviously built to mingle in this world that Gansey was born into, until it's obvious that he's not.

Something's wrong but Gansey can't quite figure out what. He smiles at the person he'd been talking to, making polite excuses as he moves through the small conversation groups to get to Declan. When someone tries to speak to him, he uses a hint of his magic to politely deflect them away.

Then he's at Declan's side, smiling at whoever had approached the eldest Lynch, making easy excuses for them both before taking Declan's arm. A quick glance and he realizes the signs of an imminent panic attack and gets them moving. Another hint of power and a faked smile and he's maneuvering them out the door, making more excuses. The heat. The alcohol, twisting things around so it seems that Gansey's the one who is lightheaded instead of Declan. Once they're out in the muggy air, he directs Declan to where he's parked the SUV, unable to hide his scowl over the soulless vehicle, but finding it perfect for tonight. The Pig is beloved but it doesn't have enough space for a situation like this.

He opens the passenger door, almost shoving Declan inside before feeling]

I didn't expect to meet you like this. And don't tell me you're fine because I know something's wrong.

TFLN Overflow - for <user name="threesecrets">

[affection_for_research]

(ooc: Continued from here.)

[The thump is faint but Gansey knows the sound well. A phone impacting a wall. He'd let it go and let Ronan settle down if he hadn't heard the cursing.

That's not exactly a strange occurrence, but he isn't certain why Ronan would be cursing over the trip or Gansey's state of future homelessness. It's common knowledge. Ronan hadn't seemed disturbed by it when Gansey told him weeks ago. Why would it matter now?

He pets the goat, reminding her to stay, unsure if she'd really listen. Then he heads upstairs to Ronan's room. Pausing at the threshold, he knocks on the frame, waiting a beat before speaking.]

Ronan? Is everything all right?

[Gansey knows that something is wrong, but that doesn't seem like the right way to try to start a conversation.]

[threesecrets]

[The goat does in fact stay at Gansey's insistence, merely quietly bleating as he leaves her behind to go check on the boy that had dreamt her.

Ronan on the other hand is sitting on his bed, in the dark, hands against the back of his neck. He'd half intended to retrieve his phone and then run out of the capacity to give a shit. Especially because he'd known this was the inevitable fallout: Gansey, outside his door, asking if he's all right. He's not, hasn't been since November, but he doesn't know how to explain that.

He doesn't really want to.]

You can- come in.

[A hitch of his voice, and he scrubs a hand down his face, tries to pull himself together. He fails, but he at least makes an attempt at it.

Adam wanted him to tell Gansey that he loved him, and Ronan didn't even know how to tell him how it ruins him all over again every time he remembers he'd died. The only way he gets through the day is to remember he's alive now. Half the time when they get off the phone he cries, caught in the strange disconnect of it. The light he'd dreamt to find Gansey drawn to his heart, even when it had stopped beating, and the image feels like a metaphor.

Ronan's eyelashes are damp.]

You knew.

[He isn't sure Gansey will understand what he means, because it's been months and he hasn't ever said it. But in the moment it's all he knows how to say.]

it's not breakfast in bed but he's trying;

[dreamforger]

[In this world the words Ronan says are not it'll never be you and me. Instead it's shut up and get in the car said as solemn as a promise. Kavinsky is sharp enough to realize when he's being offered a chance at something, and so he does. He rides shotgun and hides behind his sunglasses as Ronan gives Gansey the car he dreamt him, boyish in his exuberance.

Just when K is about to bolt and walk himself back to Proko's, Ronan says he's like me and Gansey seems to trust what he offers. But what the edgy boy isn't, is one of them, part of their weird constellation of friendships and desires. But they teach him things he hadn't understood: like what Cabeswater is, how to be a dream thief without stealing. He's surly and argumentative and almost never kind, but he's there when it matters.

He becomes a fixture at Monmouth as sure as any of the others, even if it's not as straightforward. With Kavinsky it's intermittent appearances where he makes coffee at midnight, or does his homework for an hour or two in the space before sunrise while he watches Gansey cut cardboard and work with poster paints. He slides in as he wishes, like a stray cat- it sparks Ronan to finally see the point in fixing the front door, but it doesn't help. He steals their snacks and leans against the counter in the bathroom/kitchen, watching how Gansey's shoulders move even as he insults the boy's wardrobe choices with an arched eyebrow and a curve of his mouth.

Today it's morning or afternoon, or something. But more importantly it's the weekend, a day with no classes. Kavinsky is there, bright eyed and with an air about him that speaks to intention as he tries to sweet-talk Gansey into his car for reasons he wont elaborate on.]

Come on. I'll make it worth your while.. please?

[And there's something unsure and uncertain on the last word of it, a slip of the tongue as well as the masks he hides himself in, for just a fraction.]