This is the sequel to Truth Telling, which I have been working on for approximately the past fifty years. You should probably read that one first, because this one takes place about ten minutes later.
A dozen magnificent glitter-cannons to the-smudgy-one for being a superlative beta; otherwise I probably never would have finished this.
Ronan/Adam. 2950 words. Would maybe be embarrassing to read if you’re at work. Smut, &c. &c.
Ronan stood at the window of Adam’s apartment, Chainsaw cradled in his arm. On the nights he spent at St Agnes, she kept watch in the tree outside. But right now he needed something to hold onto, and when he’d wrenched open the screen she’d flown to his shoulder and bumped her head against his cheek.
He heard the sounds of apartment’s tiny shower behind him. “Let me wash off first,” Adam had murmured. He’d pressed himself briefly against Ronan, hadn’t quite kissed him but ducked in close enough that Ronan had felt the promise of it, before leaning back again. “I am filthy. Just a couple of minutes, okay?”
just so you know guys…i think I´ll have to slow down the frequency of my art posts here. I just can´t keep up with this and the rythm at class
hi just a helpful tip for people tagging triggers/phobias and whatnot for blacklisting purposes:
- don’t tag #tw ____ or tw:_____ because xkit won’t pick up the word after it, it will only pick up the first word
- tag like this: #____ tw or #_____ / that way xkit will pick up the word people have blacklisted
- also if you put // or — after the word, it won’t become an actual tag on your blog and will only be there for blacklisting purposes so you wont have an unnecessary tag on your blog
- that’s all folks it’s that simple!
i´m sorry but i won´t be able to finish my bllb piece by tomorrow
He couldn´t stand it, all of this inside him.
In the end, he was nodoby to Adam, he was nodody to Ronan. Adam spit his words back at him and Ronan squandered however many second chances he gave him. Gansey was just a guy with a lot of stuff and a hole inside him that chewed away more of his heart every year.
They were always walking away from him. But he never seemed able to walk away from them.
Gansey thought of one hundred things that he could say to Adam about how it would be alright, how it was for the best, how Adam Parrish had been his own man before he´d met Gansey and there was no way he´d stop being his own man just by changing the roof over his head, how some days Gansey wished that he could be him, because Adam was so very real and true in a way that Gansey couldn´t ever seem to be. But Gansey´s words had somehow become unwitting weapons, and he didn´t trust himself to not accidentally discharge them again.”
do u ever cry thinking about ronan lynch lying in bed at night trying to work out how to tell adam about his crush like ronan being absolutely heart-stoppingly terrified that adam will reject him if he does say anything so he says nothing and stays awake at night staring at the ceiling figuring out words that he won’t ever say?
bc dream!adam, “sullen and elegant and fluently disdainful of dream-Ronan’s clumsy attempts to communicate” (tdt 39) becomes waking!ronan’s understanding of adam parrish, to the point where ronan is taken aback by times when waking!adam smiles at something he says, or laughs with him, or treats him like a best friend. he’s so afraid of adam becoming like dream!adam that he forgets to see real!adam anymore.
Blue Lily Lily Blue Countdown : Most Romantic SceneHe was stretched too thin to consider what was wise or not. He called Blue.
He pressed his eyes closed. Just the sound of her voice, the Henrietta lull to it, made him feel uneven and shattered.
"Hello?" She echoed.
"Did I wake you up?"
"Oh, Gansey! No, you didn’t. I had Nino’s tonight. Is your thing done with?"
Gansey lay down, his cheek against the still sun-hot concrete of the fountain bench, and looked out of the midnight garden at the sodium-vapor paradise that was Washington, D.C. He held his phone to his other ear. His homesickness devoured him. “For now.”
"Sorry for the noise," Blue said. "It’s a zoo here, like always. I’m just getting some - uh, some yogurt and - there we go. So what do you need?”
He took a deep breath.
What do I need?
He saw Adam’s face again. He replayed his own answers. He didn’t know which of them was wrong.
“Do you think…” he began, “you could tell me what is happening at your house right now?”
“What? Like, what Mom’s doing?”
A large insect buzzed by his ear, coming in like a passenger jet. It kept going, though the flyby was close enough to tickle his skin. “Or Persephone. Or Calla. Or anyone. Just describe it to me.”
“Oh,” she said. Her voice had changed a little. He heard a chair scraping on her side of the phone.
And she did. Sometimes she spoke with her mouth full, and sometimes she had to pause to answer someone else, but she took her time with the story and gave each of the women in the house full measure. Gansey blinked, slower. The takeout dinner smell had gone away, and all that remained was the heavy, pleasant smell of growing things. That, and Blue’s voice on the other end of the phone.
“Like that?” She said finally.
“Yes,” said Gansey. “Thanks.”