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off-in-the-moors · 5 years ago

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Joseph Kavinsky analysis, part 1

aka how did I get here and why is he the reason

Warnings: spoilers for the whole Raven Cycle, mentions of: drug-use, abuse, death, murder, homophobic slurs, xenophobia

Part 1 // Part 2

After finishing The Raven Cycle and analyzing every chapter, character and the overarching plot with my friend, we were left feeling empty. It's been few months, I kept looking-up more TRC related things, other people's opinions, look through fandom content and even read some post from the author's, now deleted, tumblr account, trying to find answers to why I'm feeling like this. Why the books seem to decline for me in quality as I kept reading? Why I can't see Ronan in the same light as the rest of the fandom? Why I couldn't like the author? And the answer was looking me in the eyes the whole time.

"Depending on where you began the story, it was about Joseph Kavinsky."

I loved his character from the moment we met him in The Dream Thieves and still think about him to this day. But why? In a way, Kavinsky is too familiar to me, from his attitude, through appearance to his voice. It’s like I knew him, and this isn’t surprising. I met/saw Kavinskys on the streets, I know Kavinskys, and I was a Kavinsky once in my life. Although I'm the opposed to him, I still sympathies with him and understand how it feels to be in dark places in your life. And I'm not the only one, many people adore him and don't deny his actions to be terrible. But on the other side, the majority of fans hates him and titles him "the worst/most evil antagonist of the series". But why? What about K makes him so polarizing? The simple answer is: the way he was presented and the function he played in the plot. Even then, K's whole arc in TDT was handled horribly and damaged the way readers will view, not only people like K but also themselves. This and also future posts, I’ll be analyzing everything relied to K, including his treatment after book's release by the author and what some deleted scenes and unused ending can shine on.

This is part 1 of a series of posts to come.

This part is about the narrative and characters views of Kavinsky.

Narrative and characters

Narrative is a powerful tool of telling a story, well crafted and coupled with character's internal-voice makes the reader view the story under different light. In a PoV of one character, one thing might bring-up different emotions and ideas, than the others. Exploring relationships and events differ, because everybody experience it differently. But problem begins when the narrative forces a reader to a opinion, without backing it up with reasons or giving a opposing one. In case of Joseph Kavinsky, before we properly meet him, we are told by the characters to hate him and the narrative backs them up in reasons to hate him. All the reasons given to us at that time, boil down to "I heard a rumor."

Gansey hates him, because "There was nothing about Kavinsky that wasn’t despicable" and "he thinks life is a music video". He doesn't want Ronan to associated with him, which is connected with him covering and getting Ronan's ass for the mess he made, having him project his anger and frustration he has with Ronan on to K, who part-takes in the same activities and probably with Ronan, is understandable. But I didn't expect much from a guy who: payed the school officials so they won't kick Ronan out; insulted Adam and throw Adam’s abuse at his face, just to instant of apologizing to him, make a pity party for himself (also having Adam apologies to Gansey for his rightful outburst isn't okay), is fine with having a romantic relationship with Blue while she's still with Adam, hurting him even further but makes it all about himself, etc. Him hating K, just because of his lifestyle, made sense. But were the line was crossed, was when he started to decide on other people's worth. Lines like "we matter" (on which I'll extend later in the post) or "Ronan is fixable and has a soul [Kavinsky doesn't]", were used not only to show what Gansey himself thinks of K (he isn't a human being to him), but also demonize K and make the reader not consider him an equal to the Gangsey (a teenage).

Blue hates him, because he's yet another Raven Boy. Her hatred comes mostly from her distance for them, rich boys with privilege to which Gansey gang is an exception (although two out of four are exactly the kind she hates, and she told Noah directly she wouldn't be friends with him if he was alive) (There can be made a whole post about Blue's hypocrites regarding Raven Boys, but this isn't it). She also talks about how she doesn't feel comfortable around K and "if she couldn’t forgive Kavinsky for always managing to make her feel so insignificant", which makes sense. But while describing him, she calls him "a import from somewhere else", not only lessening him as a person but also making a xenophobic comment, noting his long nose as one of the factors (you could say, she meant him being from New Jersey, but you don't "import" stuff from inside a country, you only "import" from abroad and K is Bulgarian, doesn't matter if he's an immigrant or just has Bulgarian roots). Later, while discussing what to do with K draining the ley lines, Greyman offers to talk to him, to which Blue asks him "can you make him feel worthless while you do?”. Yes, she asked a hit-man, who killed not only Niall Lynch but also multiple people (including three on pages, which was described in the case of the ones breaking into Montmouth) for money. (Yes, fans say it's fine he murdered Niall, because he was a dick and horrible father, but what we forget is that it wasn't a fast death. It was slow and brutal, having him bludgeoned to send a message to Declan. No "he was a weapon in Greenmatle's hand" can excuse it.). Plus, he beat-up and threatened Declan with a gun if he doesn't give him the Greywaren. "Making him feel worthless" can only mean the worst. Kavinsky was a asshole, but he didn't deserved that. Also Blue gives the idea to give Kavisnky to the Greyman instant of Ronan, which was shot down, but not because it's horrible, inhuman and they can't decide on someone else's life, but because they think Greenmantle's people will come back also for Ronan. They were ok, with K being basically a scapegoat so Ronan will live.

Adam just "hates that prick" and "looked at the table with a studied disinterest" when K approached their table at Nino's, those are his only interaction in anything Kavinsky related (In a part regarding the "original" ending, we'll see it wasn't always the case.).

Noah barely exists in the series after The Raven Boys and never comes in contact with K or gives any opinion on him, outside of "ducked his head down into his shoulders, but couldn't take his eyes off the newcomer".

Ronan's relation with K could be its own post all together and there already are some good post about it, but for this one, I'll only mention few things. He gives us a very "I hate him but I'm into this lifestyle" attitude. He races against K but doesn't want to have anything to do with him or he's "dogs". (Yes, Dream Packs canon name is "Kavinsky's pack of dogs" as Ronan calls them. Ironically, Ronan gets angry then Declan and K called him "Gansey's dog" but is fine when Gansey calls him "his dog".) He never thanked or acknowledged K saved his life from the Night Horror. He accepted K's help in dreaming-up the new Pig but afterwords ditches him without even a slit gratefulness (his motivation being remembering Gansey's words), and mocks that K thought there could be anything between them (friendship or relationship, it dependents how you interpret it), turning this into just using K to get what he wanted. And yes, what K did while Ronan slept (tracing Ronan's back tattoo with his finger) was unacceptable, if it really happened and wasn't just phantom-touch while falling asleep (if it was real, it can be interpreted as K acting out of his internalized homophobia, letting himself a moment of “curiosity”, but it still wouldn't make it fine).

Ronan and K insult one-another multiple times through-out the story but the difference is quite showing. K's insults are mostly homophobic, calling Ronan a "fag" or implying Ronan and Gansey are together. This is a typical teenage insults, but are also showing of K's internalized homophobia if viewed through "Don’t say Dick Gansey, man. Do not say it. He is never going to be with you. And don’t me tell you don’t swing that way, man. I’m in your head." and "It's a bomb. Just like you." scenes.

But Ronan, excepting the typical insults like "ball-sack", goes after who K is. "Bulgarian mobster Jersey trash piece of shit" or "Russian" (to the latter, K responded "Hey now, let's not make this ugly") are personal, referring not only to from where K's from, implying he's a mobster like his father and just calling him "a waste". Unfortunately, K's whole character is already one big stereotype of Slavs as viewed not only by Americans. But insulting someone for being "Bulgarian", something they had no control over, is xenophobic. (And for "Russian", as a Slav myself, let me tell you. Calling a non-Russian Slav "Russian" is a quick way to get on their bad side.) And if you're like "Ronan isn't xenophobic, because he's Irish" or "Maggie isn't xenophobic, because Ronan...", you have no idea how things work in Europe. This is the same argument as "He can't be racist, because he's black". TRC fandom is always ready to bring-up all K's sins and even enlarge them, but when in comes to Ronan, all his sins are either forgotten or excused.

One more thing I want to touch on is one of K's parties. After Monmouth got broken into by people looking for Greywaren (which Greyman broke into first), Gansey thinks it must be Kavinsky's doing, because of the fake ID left in front of the door. Him and Ronan go to K's party, he tells them, it's a substance party and asks where are theirs. As an answer, Ronan hits him in the face and throws through a car, just to show him his blooded knuckles with "This is your substance.". The rest is Gansey and Ronan not believing K, that he didn't trash their place, and a "different Gansey" throwing a Molotov cocktail at K's car. After that, they leave. But one thing isn't sitting right with me. The "This is your substance" is a beloved, may I say iconic, scene that is glorified by fans and cited as this "Ronan is so cool and K soo deserved it" thing.

Here's the thing. K is in full right. It's his party, on his rules. Gansey and Ronan just came from nowhere, probably for the first time, so the rule is stated for them. And Ronan's response? Physically assault K. Even if he's angry about the apartment, still he shouldn't just assault him. And Gansey does nothing. And one more thing: K never hits Ronan back. Not in next chapters, not at the end. Never.

Before the chapter ends, we get probably my most hated line from this book:

"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."

We matter. And he doesn't. I could talk about this line and how damaging it is to people who see themselves in Kavinsky, but instant I'll say, why I hate it.

I have anxiety mixed with being introverted and back-in-the-day I felt isolated from my classmates, desperate for friends but only had toxic ones who dropped me so the popular girls would talk with them, just to be friends with me again after some time, bullied to the point of breaking multiple times, and hating myself for not fitting in, unable to connected with my peers in anyway. The line "we matter" echos my worst fear and thoughts from that time. "Everyone matter, you don't". I was too young to even have those thoughts, but they were always there. In the back of my head, like a recurring nightmare.

Just the idea, someone can say with confidence that someone, anyone, doesn't matter, makes me sick. No one has the inside to what's going on in someones life, to what thought are plaguing their head. Everyone's life matter and to say something like this in a book targeted to 12-18 year olds, who are at there most vulnerable stage, is not only irresponsible but enraging. Gansey is saying this about a guy his age, who is drug-addicted and self-destructive, because he doesn't like him and wants Ronan to stay away from. No one calls him out on it. Not Ronan, not the narrative. Nothing.

Until the kidnapping of Matthew and the paradox/question "did the tattoo tracing scene happened?", Kavinsky did nothing to earn hatred from the reader. He was living his life, being a stupid, reckless teenage boy with a power to get everything he wanted. Ask yourself a question: "If you had the power to pulled anything* from your dreams, wouldn't you go crazy with it? Maybe in a very selfish way?"

* Throughout TRC and CDtH, we see no limit to what a dreamer can pull-out. From a pen or working car, living creatures (animals, copies of real people or purely made-up) to abstract things, like a word with power to animate the dead or an apocalypses.

Yes, K's dreaming drained the ley lines, causing Cabeswater to disappear. But did K knew about it? He knew that he needed to wait for it to recharge before dreaming more things and he did just that. The over-draining was cause by preparations for this Fourth of July party (dreaming many copies of his Mitsubishi) but same did Ronan’s dreaming (but Cabeswater acts as weird gatekeeper, so Ronan seems to be forgiven). But did he knew about Cabeswater? Or furthermore, Glendower? We can't confirm or deny it, but considering K isn't from Henrietta and probably is there only for school, he's there for about 2 years. Would he be interested in some random forest or some Welsh King, which just idea of him being in America is so far fetched to believe in?

No. All he was interested it, was parting and wasting himself away.

We don't get any other or opposing opinions on Kavinsky, only the ones given by Gangsey. They are the outsiders looking in, not having any inside, just rumors and their shallow observations/interactions. But we don't even get any "inside", not from other Raven Boys or even the Dream Pack (who are barely characters). After K's death, the only thing we get is Gangsey's not caring or being glad K's gone. Aglionby is silent and Henrietta, doesn't even acknowledge Fourth of July's Party even happened (but to be honest, the town feels like a theater stage than a living place). The only mentions about K that gives some idea someone noticed anything, was his name alongside Whelk’s and Dittley's in the newspaper at the end of BLLB (but this plot point is never mentioned again).

#joseph kavinsky #anti maggie stiefvater #anti raven cycle #anti trc

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emmerrr · 4 years ago

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Jordeclan going to an amusement park or a fair? They both just honestly need a break and some fun!!

anon i’m so sorry this took so long but hey i made it valentine’s day and there’s lynch bros content and i hope you like it (also on ao3)

Declan wakes up on the morning of Valentine’s Day not really aware that it’s Valentine’s Day.

It’s Saturday, so he doesn’t need to go into work, and he trundles down the stairs into the kitchen and makes himself a coffee. Matthew and Ronan are still asleep, the latter of whom spent the night after driving up the previous day to go to an art show with his brothers. (Ronan had been less than subtle about his disdain for the ‘art’ in question; Declan had dragged them out early to go to a diner for some burgers. Brotherly bonding at its finest.)

He sits at the breakfast bar with his coffee and checks his emails on his phone like he’s reading the news. There’s a few work things, but not too much, all things considered. He sends a good morning text to Jordan, knowing in all likelihood she won’t read it until at least noon. The thought of her brings a smile to his face, and he wonders if he’ll get to see her later. They don’t have any solid plans in place, but their relationship has never been one that follows a rigid structure anyway. She’s been a breath of fresh air in every possible way.

An hour or so later, Declan hears Ronan moving around in the guest bedroom upstairs, probably throwing his stuff together before he drives back to Singer’s Falls. Not long after that, Matthew comes down the stairs, golden curls matted to his head on one side from where he’s slept on them.

“Mornin’,” he says through a yawn, and takes a seat. “What’s for breakfast?”

“Whatever you want.”

Matthew hums. “I want eggs.”

Declan nods at the fridge. “Go on then.”

Matthew sighs but gets up again and opens the refrigerator, standing solemnly in front of it before slowly removing a carton of eggs.

He puts them down and makes a good show of looking lost as he meanders around the kitchen finding everything he needs. Declan knows he’s doing it on purpose, but goddamn if it doesn’t work. “For crying out loud, how do you want them?”

Matthew grins; he’s won this round. “Scrambled, please. You’re the best.”

“Yeah, yeah. You can make your own toast, though. And go and ask Ronan if he wants any.”

“Yes, sir!” Matthew salutes, and runs off to the hallway to yell up the stairs at Ronan.

A mountain of breakfast later, Ronan disappears again to have a shower, and Declan makes Matthew wash the dishes. He sits in the living room and turns on some nature documentary just for background noise, but only a minute or two passes before Matthew comes in and sits down.

“You cannot possibly have finished the dishes yet,” Declan says.

“They need to soak,” Matthew insists, eyes skating guiltily from Declan’s face to the TV screen. “Oh, is this the one with the penguins?” He sits down, and Declan resolves himself to finishing the singular chore he asked Matthew to do later.

“Yes, half a job Bob, it’s the one with the penguins.”

Matthew smiles indulgently and settles in to watch, but they both get distracted a moment later when they spot Ronan walking past, carrying a lot more than he originally had with him.

“Why do you have a big teddy bear?” Matthew asks.

“Is that a boom-box?” Declan asks.

“Is that a heart-shaped balloon with Adam’s face on it?” Matthew asks.

“What are you doing?” Declan asks.

Ronan leaves everything in the hall by the door and comes to stand just inside the living room, hands in his pockets. He shrugs. “Just gonna make a pit-stop at Cambridge, that’s all.”

Declan sighs. “It’s not exactly on your way. Does Adam even know you’re coming?”

“No, it’s a surprise. It’s a funny inside joke Valentine’s surprise.”

“What do you mean, Valentine’s surprise, it’s not Val—oh my god.” Declan puts his head in his hands. “Oh my god, it’s Valentine’s Day.”

“Oh, Declan,” Ronan says, the smile evident in his voice. “Forget, did you?”

Declan lifts his head. “It was a busy week at work.”

“Don’t worry, bro, I must have got all the romantic genes, it’s not your fault.”

Declan scowls but there’s little heat in it. He checks his phone and Jordan is yet to reply, which could mean nothing, but doubt now niggles in Declan’s mind. What if Jordan was expecting some kind of gesture and is now massively disappointed that Declan is so useless?

“What do I do? It’s too late to make any reservations.”

“Reservations are for chumps anyway, just go and do something fun,” Ronan says.

“Like what?” Declan snaps. All that’s running through his head is that he got Jordan some tyrian purple at great cost and at very short notice for their very first date. If her expectations for Valentine’s Day are high, he has no one to blame but himself.

“I’ll leave that up to you to figure out,” Ronan says. “I have to hit the road.”

Matthew laughs and elbows Declan playfully. “Ronan is a better boyfriend than you.”

“No he isn’t, shut up,” Declan says, which just makes Matthew laugh harder.

After Ronan hugs Matthew goodbye, Declan helps him carry the ridiculous gifts he has obviously dreamt up out to the car.

“Text me when you’re with Adam,” he says when he’s closed the trunk, “so I know you got there okay.”

Ronan opens the driver’s side door and levels Declan with a put-upon look. “Fine, I will try my very best to remember to text you when I arrive.”

Declan manages a smile. “Appreciate it. Drive safe.”

Ronan moves to get in the car, but hesitates, and turns back to his brother. “You’re not really worried that you forgot about today, right?” At Declan’s shrug, he continues, “Come on, Jordan’s cool, she’s not gonna care. Everyone knows Valentine’s Day is bullshit.”

“Says the guy who’s driving several hours out of his way in honour of said bullshit day,” Declan says pointedly.

Ronan shakes his head. “Look, the day’s irrelevant; I’m driving several hours out of my way because I miss my fucking boyfriend and this is as good an excuse as any to go see him.”

“Yes, but—”

“But nothing. Jordan likes you, for some unfathomable reason. She’s not gonna dump you because you didn’t remember to plan some posh, soulless valentine’s date.”

Abrasive as he is, Declan can’t deny that Ronan’s right. “When did you get so wise?” he grumbles, and Ronan smirks.

“Hey, statistically I’ve gotta be right about some things.”

“Once in a blue moon.”

“Asshole.”

“Yeah, yeah. Get out of here.” Ronan gets into the car, but Declan stops him before he shuts it. “You really think Jordan is cool?”

Ronan laughs. “Way too cool for you.”

Declan’s unwarranted fears about Jordan ignoring him fade as soon as she texts him back an hour or so later. She doesn’t mention the dreaded V-word, but she says there’s a fair in town, and asks if he wants to go.

A fair date sounds pretty perfect actually, and when he agrees, Jordan tells him she’ll pick him up at seven. She always does like to drive.

“I still haven’t got her a gift, though,” Declan tells Matthew. “Is it bad that I don’t have a gift?”

“You’re going to a fair,” Matthew points out. “Plenty of opportunities to be all manly and shit and win her something.”

“Language,” Declan says, and Matthew rolls his eyes.

“You should get her a card, at least.”

“Valentine’s Day cards are always so terrible, though,” Declan complains.

“So make her one. Jordan’s arty, she’d probably like that better anyway.”

Declan doesn’t like that both of his younger brothers are being smarter than him today, but nevertheless, Matthew is right, and Declan ransacks his office supplies to see what he can come up with.

He uses some high-quality photo paper to print out a picture of a pretty flower that he found online, then carefully cuts it out and glues it to the middle of the front of some card he’s folded in half. He frames it by cutting out strips of purple card and sticking them around the flower. Then he gets irritated with how shit it looks and considers throwing the whole fucking thing away and starting from scratch, when Matthew peers over his shoulder and says, “Aw, that looks really nice.”

So Declan keeps it, writes his message inside, and finds an envelope that is only a little bit too big to put it in.

Time’s getting on, so he goes to get ready. He has no idea what to wear for a date at a fair, and takes two tie options out to the living room to get Matthew’s opinion.

“Which tie is more appropriate?”

“Neither.”

“You didn’t even look.”

“I don’t need to. Don’t wear a tie. You’re not going on a job interview. Plus it’s February and you’ll be outside, put a sweater on.” Matthew does finally look at him now, and he sighs at Declan’s blue button-down and grey slacks. “This is what you wear for work, put some jeans on. You’ve like, met Jordan, right?”

“Alright, smartass, point taken.”

When Declan’s changed again, Matthew decrees his outfit of jeans and a fairisle sweater in navy tones boring but ultimately acceptable, which Declan figures is the best he’s going to get. He also thinks he’s going mad if he’s asking Matthew of all people for fashion advice.

He just has time to slip his coat on and put the card in the inside pocket before there’s a knock at the door, and Matthew runs to open it.

“Hiya, squirt,” Jordan says to him, which is funny because Matthew is taller than her.

“Hey. Declan tried to wear a tie.”

Jordan laughs, throwing her head back, and Declan finds there’s a dopey grin on his face even though his girlfriend and his brother are bonding over making fun of him. “Of course he did. Never fully dressed without a tie.” She meets Declan’s gaze over Matthew’s shoulder and winks at him.

“Hey, I’m right here,” he says, faux-wounded, and makes his way over to the door as Matthew heads back to the living room.

He kisses Jordan. “Hi.”

“Hi yourself. You ready to go?”

“Yes.”

“Have fun, guys!” Matthew yells, and Declan hesitates, poking his head in to look at his brother.

“What are you doing tonight? You can come with us if you want?”

“No way, man, I’m not third-wheeling on your date. Also it’s cute how you think I don’t already have plans, I’m extremely popular.”

“Uh huh,” Declan says, worries evaporating. “Modest, too.”

They leave, finally, and Jordan drives them to where the fair is set up, filling Declan in on any little anecdotes he’s missed since they last spoke. He’s happy just to listen to her talk; sitting in her presence is like recharging a battery, and he feels lighter than he has all week.

Parking is easy to find, and they huddle together as they walk towards the entrance, the lights from all the rides and the heat lamps looking bright and inviting beyond. Jordan slips her hand into Declan’s, and he tucks them both into his pocket as Jordan leans her head against his shoulder.

“I missed you this week,” she says.

“Did you?” Declan smiles. He likes being missed by Jordan. “I missed you too. I always miss you.”

“Well you say that now, but I’m going to destroy you at fairground games, so you might change your mind.”

Declan’s doubtful, but he grins at her amenably.

She holds up a finger. “But first, we need to go on a couple of super fast, spinny rides, because if we go on them after I’ve had something to eat I might just throw up all over you.”

“Yeah, let’s avoid that,” Declan says. “Lead the way.”

Jordan, practically vibrating with excitement, drags Declan straight to the ride she keeps calling ‘the whirligig’, because it takes you round and round, faster and faster, while the carriage you sit in is also spinning. So it’s double the amount of spinning, and when they get off, Declan has to stop for a minute with his hands on his knees while Jordan lovingly laughs at him.

She takes pity on him and they go on the ferris wheel next. They kiss when it stops when they’re at the top, which Declan knows is cliché as hell, but he’s certainly not complaining. He pulls back a little, his thumb gently brushing along her cheekbone.

“I made you a card,” he says, a little embarrassed. Jordan’s warm brown eyes go wide and pleased.

“Oh yeah?”

He pulls it out of his pocket and starts to hand it to her nervously. “It’s not very good.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” she says, taking it from him. She opens it and smiles when she sees the flower. “So pretty.”

“It’s called a Middlemist red camellia. It’s like the rarest flower in the world. Or so Google tells me.” He knows that Jordan will know why he specifically chose this flower. He’s telling her something about who she is to him. She won’t miss the significance of that.

She brings Declan’s hand to her lips and kisses it gently, before letting it go and looking at the card again. “I love camellia’s,” Jordan says, “but I’ve never seen this one before.” She opens the card and reads the message Declan wrote inside, a soft smile growing the more she reads.

Jordan sighs and holds the card to her chest with her eyes closed. When she opens them again, she says, “I made you a card, too.”

She pulls it out of her own coat pocket, and Declan opens it. On the front is a colour pencil drawing of him, perfect hair, non-smiling, boring suit, but with the fanciest shoes he has ever seen; a more exaggerated version of the ones he was wearing when he and Jordan first met.

Declan laughs in joyous surprise. “Your card is better than mine.”

“My card is funnier than yours,” she says. “It’s not better.”

“Thank you,” he says, earnestly, looking at the portrait and cracking up again. “I think...I think I’m gonna frame this.”

“You should. It’ll be worth a fortune some day.”

Of that, Declan has no doubt. “You wanna know a secret?”

“Absolutely.”

“I forgot it was Valentine’s Day.”

It’s Jordan’s turn to laugh, and she leans in to kiss Declan’s cheek. “I forgot, too. I didn’t realise until I went to grab a coffee and there were Valentine’s specials going on all over the place.”

“Ronan of all people reminded me. He drove up to surprise Adam at Cambridge.”

“Bless him, Ronan really is a gigantic softie.”

Declan grins. “Well he told me he thinks you’re cool. Too cool for me.”

“Aw, babe, he’s right!” Jordan says, laughing at his sad pout. “Unfortunately for me, I love you anyway.”

Declan shakes his head, smiling. “You’re a dick,” he says. “But I love you, too.”

The ferris wheel starts moving again, and when it stops, they go and try their hand at some games. Jordan comes out on top at ring tossing, duck hooking, the coconut shy, and the buzzwire, but Declan does pretty well at the mini laser quest and a balloon-popping darts game.

They end up at the shooting game stall, where you have to try and knock the cans over to win prizes. There’s a cute stuffed stegosaurus that Jordan has her eye on, and Declan pays for them both to have a go to try and win it.

They each manage to knock a couple of cans over, but there’s some that are way more stubborn and don’t seem to budge even when clearly hit.

“Another round,” Declan says when his go is finished. He sighs in frustration when the results are the same.

Jordan puts his hand on his arm. “You know these things are rigged, right? They’re weighted, it’s almost impossible to win the good prizes.”

The rational part of his brain understands this to be true. The monkey part wants the prize. “Yes, but it’s Valentine’s Day and I have to win you this stupid stegosaurus. My manly pride is at stake.”

Jordan snorts. “Well how about we take your manly pride to that stall over there and I’ll let you buy me a churro, I’m starving.”

“...Churros sound good.”

Jordan links her arm through Declans as they follow their noses over to the churro stall.

“I really would’ve won it with one more go,” Declan feels the need to say.

“Sure you would,�� Jordan says easily. “Maybe later.”

“Fuck later, it’s freezing. You wanna come back to mine? I’ll make you a latte.”

Jordan grins up at him. “I thought you’d never ask. Churros first though.”

“Oh, that’s a given.”

#the raven cycle #jordeclan #lynch bros #dreamertrilogy #anon #emma answers

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eury--dice · 5 years ago

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history, huh?

chapter one: principium

(or: the Red, White, and Royal Blue TRC AU, but no knowledge of the book is needed to read this! ao3 link in the rb)

Adam knew he was in trouble when he found himself covered in cake, champagne, and shattered glass while clutching onto someone’s sleeve.

Admittedly, the memory of the night as a whole is a bit fuzzy around the edges, softened by jet lag and overwhelming anger and a few flutes of champagne worth more than the house Adam grew up in. But he remembered enough to recall some key details: one, it was no ordinary reception, it was the royal wedding; two, the cake covering him was the 75,000-dollar royal wedding cake; and three, that he clutched onto His Royal Highness, Prince Ronan Lynch-Mountchristen-Windsor, while covered in the remnants of his champagne flute.

It was an international relations nightmare that a rational Adam Parrish, the first son of the United States, would pay to avoid at all costs. Even the slightly-inebriated Adam could feel a distant spark of fear over what Maura and Calla were going to say to him once he was not covered in frosting and brawling with a treasured member of the English monarchy. (Well, “treasured” was a relative term. Prince Ronan was more of a recently-reformed scandal than a treasure.)

But as he caught a glimpse of Blue’s expression, a carefully constructed mask of surprise for the cameras that only those who knew her personally could read the amusement behind, Gansey’s hand wrapped around his wrist and yanked Adam off of the ground.

He must have abandoned his conversation with Roger Malory to come and bail Adam out; deep down, beyond the adrenaline and anger and alcohol pumping through his veins, Adam was touched at the gesture. Guilt also hit him with the knowledge that Gansey hadn’t had a chance to talk to Malory since he left England as a teenager and now Adam had ruined that, but he tucked it away to examine at a later moment.

Adam thought he might have heard Ronan mutter “Oh my fucking Christ” from somewhere behind him in his stupid posh accent. Slinging an arm around Adam’s frosting-coated shoulders to steer him towards the Secret Service Agents already surging forward, Gansey leaned his head towards Adam’s and whispered around a smile, “What the fresh hell did you do?”

And, well. It was a good question. He glanced back at Ronan where he lay on the ground, already brushing off the help of the royal guards and climbing gracefully to his feet, the bead of blood on his cheek sparkling in the majestic royal lighting. Just a few minutes before, the Prince had stood by himself, a dark contrast to the pristine tiered cake and tiny buttercream flowers and gleaming champagne fountain behind him. And Adam, who was rarely angry over anything but could easily go too far when provoked, decided to engage.

“If it isn’t His Royal Highness,” Adam had said, drawing Ronan’s eyes to him. He could see the moment Ronan realized he wasn’t himself, taking in the curled hand and slightly flushed cheeks. Adam was a convincingly sober drunk, and something about Ronan being able to see through it pissed him off. And the fact that Ronan had spent more than half the night hiding away from the cameras and drinking himself didn’t help. Adam would’ve expected to find him dead on his feet and barely standing, but clearly Ronan was less of a lightweight than he was.

Ronan’s lips curled in what might have passed as a smile but looked a little too much like a predator baring its teeth. “Mr. Parrish,” he said, all clipped vowels and stiff politeness that made Adam want to scream. His lips lingered on the ‘h’ shape for a moment too long. “I’m surprised you’re speaking to me.”

Honesty was the last thing Adam had expected. “Why, because you monopolized Blue and treated her like some kind of...toy to ignore?”

His nostrils flared suddenly. “No, I do not... use people. But you have been avoiding me all evening when I’ve done my best to be civil.”

Adam laughed too loudly at that. “Civil? Yeah, okay,” he said, his mouth curved into a smile. “Most civil member of your family, I’m sure. Declan and Ashley would agree.”

Ronan went silent, swirling his champagne around in his hand and raising an uncoordinated hand to run over his shaved head. When he spoke, he grit his jaw as though holding back some impulse like the good repressed English boy he was. “I’d suggest you to go drink some water and find your way out before you do something you regret.”

“Or what?”

Ronan stepped closer to Adam so that they were nearly chest-to-chest, his two-inch height advantage only pissing Adam off more. “I said I’d advise you to stop.”

And Ronan, so subtly that he doubted any camera could pick it up, pushed Adam away with one hand. It would have worked splendidly had Adam not back-tracked and grabbed Ronan’s sleeve, sending them both falling.

And now they were both covered in frosted roses and shame, Adam stuck with Gansey’s voice on the plane saying please table your rivalry for one night reverberating in his head.

What the fresh hell, indeed.

***

Silence hung over the West Wing briefing room like a wet blanket. Maura Sargent stared unblinkingly into Adam’s eyes from where she perched on the edge of the table. Adam, from his seat at the head, stared back with every ounce of courage his mother’s PR campaigns taught him. Maura seemed to be studying him, and Adam simply didn’t know how to look away.

“Blue,” Maura said finally. On Maura’s other side, Blue wordlessly handed over a stack of newspapers, her gaze shifting from Maura to Adam as though watching a ping pong tournament. Adam knew of Maura’s “no restrictions” policy at home with Blue, but everyone knew this policy in no way related to her work life. Still, Blue watched attentively with knitted brows as though trying to guess the outcome or will a better one into existence.

“Gansey?” Maura asked, all without removing her eyes from Adam’s. The touch of anxiety in Blue’s expression didn’t even begin to reach the anxiety in Gansey’s face, as he stared at Adam like he was a lost puppy. Still, Gansey had more poise than most politicians did, and he managed to smoothly relinquish a stack of magazines into Maura’s free hand. Maura combined the stacks into one in her right hand before dropping them into Adam’s lap with a dull thwap.

“These are just the ones being sold outside this morning, not to mention what’s circulating in the British tabloids,” she said, finally turning away and reaching for a mug of coffee. “Read them.” She muttered something that sounded suspiciously like Jesus, but Adam didn’t try to discern it. He went for the stack instead, glossy pages almost slipping through his thin fingers.

THE $75,000 STUMBLE greeted him on the front page of The Washington Post.

BATTLE ROYAL: Prince Ronan and FSOTUS Come To Blows at Royal Wedding

CAKEGATE: Adam Parrish Sparks Second English-American War

Everywhere he flipped, images of he and Ronan covered in sparkling broken glass and frosting assaulted his eyes. The images and headlines blurred together, and he flicked his gaze back up to Maura. All he could see for a moment was Ronan’s rumpled suit and the sliver of red on his cheek. He blinked three times in rapid succession and Maura returned, her brown eyes cool and calculating over the rim of her travel mug.

“Isn’t this a topic for the Situation Room, Ms. Sargent?” He asked. His mother, seated across from him, and Blue both pursed their lips, although for entirely different reasons; Blue appeared to be holding back laughter while his mother must have been holding back something else. Maura narrowed her eyes, oblivious to Gansey’s tightening expression behind her.

“Don’t Ms. Sargent me,” she replied, her tone cool. “I knew all your secrets, kid. I’ve been watching you since you were five. The sass will get you nowhere.” She snatched the Sun article from out of his hands, flipping it open to the correct page and hiding Ronan’s buttercream-smeared frown behind her fingers. “‘Sources inside the royal reception report the two were seen arguing minutes before the cake-tastrophe. But royal family insiders claim the First Son’s feud with Ronan has raged for years. A source tells The Sun that Ronan and the First Son have been at odds ever since their first meeting at the Rio Olympics--’” here Adam made an odd, strangled noise -- “‘and the animosity has only grown—these days, they can’t even be in the same room with each other. It seems it was only a matter of time before Adam took the American approach: a violent altercation.’”

Adam locked eyes with Gansey at the last line, watching Gansey’s lips thin just as he felt the blood drain from his own face. His eyes slid over to Blue, who yielded much of the same reaction. His mother, surprisingly, didn’t change her posture. If she was thinking of Robert Parrish like the rest of them, she had a better poker face.

“They’re blaming this on Ana’s administration,” Maura continued, pushing on through the stony silence. “Please, explain the joke to me.”

“He started it,” is all Adam was able to say, which was probably one of the worst ways to defend himself. Sounding like a petulant toddler helped nobody, but he had made his bed and so he would lie in it, too. “He shoved me and I grabbed his sleeve to-”

“Adam,” his mother said, raising one hand to cut him off with the smooth, brown skin of her palm. He quieted at once, recognizing her demeanor as half-presidential and half motherly. Ana’s voice was caught somewhere between the sugary drawl that lulled him to sleep as a child and the All-American southern twang that helped win her an election. “You know I trust you, sweetheart, but the press sure as hell doesn’t give a fuck about the nitty-gritty of who started what.”

“Ronan definitely touched him first,” Gansey said, his voice unhurried but his face clearly eager to shift some of the blame off of Adam. Maura shot a cool look in his direction.

“He-said, she-said, that doesn’t matter. The press thinks and we can’t change their mind, we can only prove them wrong.” She held out a hand again, and with a sigh Blue acquiesced a new, thick file. Maura dropped it in front of Adam like a hot potato. “Here’s damage control. This rivalry with the prince of England ends now.”

“It’s not a-”

“Rivalry, we know,” his mother interrupted wryly. The tone was odd from her president-mode self, her wayward curls tamed into a perfect ponytail and her face made up instead of the more casual expression she normally had when joking. “But, sugar, if it looks like a duck and quacks like a duck, it’s probably a duck. You can call it whatever you like, but it’s always gonna be seen as a rivalry.”

Adam sat silently, flipping through a section entitled TERMS OF AGREEMENT. Maura continued. “You’re flying to England on Saturday and spending the weekend with Ronan.”

It took a moment for the words to sink in, but once they did he couldn’t stop thinking of them. Dread settled just below the surface of Adam’s skin. He looked at his mother. “I’d prefer to fake my death, actually. Or just really die. I know Calla would be willing to help with either, and Persephone is good with that stuff, right? Death of a son should boost your polling. The voters love a sympathetic case.”

“Don’t tempt me,” she warned. She looked to her watch with a heavy sigh and leaned over to kiss him on the head. “I’m too overscheduled for this. Adam, listen to Maura and don’t ignore her plan. You two,” she gestured vaguely at Blue and Gansey, “Make sure he doesn’t do anything irrational while we’re wrapped up.”

Blue lazily saluted while Gansey nodded reassuringly. With one last glance at Adam, Ana was gone, her heels clicking away from the heavy doors. She slipped away from being Ana Parrish, Adam’s mother punishing him for stupid behavior, to become President Parrish, leader of the country. Adam envied her compartmentalization.

Maura leaned over the table, flipping pages in the file. “We’re releasing this statement in conjunction with the Crown as soon as they approve. It was an accident, no harm was intended, all that jazz-”

Adam lifted one eyebrow. “So the truth?”

“Call it what you’d like. And we’re clarifying that you and Prince Ronan have been close personal friendships for several years despite conflicts in schedule making it difficult to appear publicly.”

Blue laughed out loud at that, clamping one hand over her mouth. Maura didn’t even look over to her, but Adam’s expression must have been similarly dumbfounded because she sighed resignedly, taking another sip of coffee. “Look, it’s better for all sides if your tussle just looks like some...frat boy joshing.” Blue’s laughs crescendoed louder, and Maura shot her a cool look. “If you need to step out, please feel free to, Blue. I’m sure Gansey will fill you in later.” Adam looked to Blue and her wave of dismissal, gripping onto the wrist of Gansey’s blazer to steady herself. Maura turned back to Adam.

“I know he’s difficult. You can hate him for all I care. In privacy, feel free to construct intricate arguments for his removal from this earth. Fantasize about dumping yogurt on his head. Compose songs to drive him insane. But, for the love of God, you will act like he hung the moon with nothing but yarn and a sewing needle whenever there’s the slimmest possibility of a camera or another living being witnessing it. Kapeesh?”

It wasn’t like he was allowed any true reaction, but he nodded all the same. His powerlessness was because of his own actions, not Maura. It was his own fault, and he would own up to the consequences. Even if the thought of willingly spending time with Ronan made his stomach turn.

“Your job is to not piss anyone off and to gush about Ronan. You’ll memorize this fact sheet-” she slid another page from the file and tapped it, “-and be prepared to answer any question with these as an answer. Your deal includes a minimum of two social media posts a day about Ronan and your visit. On Sunday, you have an on-air interview with ITV This Morning, and you’ll be fresh as a daisy with nothing but sunshine to say about Ronan’s competitive yachting hobby. There are only two photo ops, one in private where you can bitch and one charity appearance. That’s it, you’re free.”

Adam opened his mouth.

“Don’t care,” Maura said before Adam could make a noise. “You ruined the Royal Wedding and a cake that’s worth a year of college tuition. He’ll attend a state dinner in a few months for his part, and you will pay your penance now.”

Adam nodded slowly. He gathered the file in his hands along with all the decorum Gansey taught him over the years. He smiled a small smile at Maura. “Well, it will be an experience, won’t it?”

“I’d expect it, yes.”

“Thank you, Maura. And I’m sorry.”

She waved her hand. “Don’t apologize. Your apology will be not screwing this up even more.”

“I’ll try.”

Adam rose, Blue and Gansey following his lead. As he turned to walk away, Maura spoke again. “Oh, and Adam?”

“Yes?”

The corners of her eyes crinkled, and she looked younger, somehow. Almost amused. Guilt panged in his chest at the thought that he’d caused the tiredness on her face before. “Try to have a little fun. It’s a trip to Europe and you’re not even missing class.”

He paused, thinking of Ronan and his shaved head and cruel smile in front of the wedding cake. He tried to imagine what fun might be for him - whether to trust the fact sheet proclaiming fencing and yachting as Ronan’s pastimes or the tabloids that traded stories of illegal drag racing and getting black-out drunk. He wasn’t sure which version of Ronan sounded worse. “Sure,” he agreed quietly. “I will.”

***

Those who work in the White House know a few things about the First Family’s habits, but they never know the full truth.

They can observe things the average citizen would die to know; they see staffers pacing the halls and tearing their hair out over Instagram captions, overhear expletive-laden and fond familial conversations, and occasionally see the pristine members of the executive branch with dark crescents burning under their eyes and old high-school sweatshirts adorned like the newest fashion. But none were more elusive and two-sided than the White House Trio.

In their case, two-sided didn’t necessarily mean something bad, only something drastic. Blue Sargent, Richard Gansey, and Adam Parrish presented the perfect dynamic for the press to eat up: three attractive early twenty-somethings inside the White House who were notoriously open to the public about their lives. There were veneers crafted and stories concocted every day, all designed to get the perfect media response without sharing too much. There was Blue, the Indigenous American daughter of a single mother and prominent staffer, barely five feet tall but laser-sharp with any numbers you threw at her; there was Richard Campbell Gansey III, better known as the single-named Gansey who came from the billions that funded the Vice-Presidency but wanted nothing more than to give it all away, always ready with his winning charm and a new polo shirt to distract the press from his scathing op-eds; and there was Adam Parrish, a true American Dream born from a father from the Heartland and a mother from Mexican immigrants, a single First Son set to graduate valedictorian from Georgetown amid a political campaign with an ease most of the country only wished to possess.

Together, they hit every demographic that they could without even trying too hard. Their progressive politics were helped along by their identities, and so they aided their parents by nature of existing within the White House walls. White House staff saw these versions of them, but only glimpses of what lay beneath - Blue wandering the halls in self-created shirts and dresses with stacks of newspapers clutched in her arms, the scent of mint clinging to Gansey everywhere he went at all hours of the day, Adam’s frequent requests for coffee at midnight and propensity to wear coca-cola tee shirts.

They all knew very well that no one really saw the full picture of them, but that was how the White House Trio liked it.

The three of them spread out in the music room, one of their only haunts where they could be truly alone. For once, they weren’t a marketing ploy of their own creation or a group of kids on a pedestal; they were just Blue, Gansey, and Adam. After that meeting, they had to be.

Adam sprawled on the couch, laying exactly horizontal, flipping over the HRH fact sheet.

“You’re on the cover of Us Weekly, Blue,” Gansey called across the room, undoubtedly fulfilling his guilty-pleasure hobby of obsessively tracking their tabloids. “Full portrait of your Royal Wedding outfit.”

“It’s about time,” she responded from her perch on the windowsill, a bottle of red wine and a bottle opener in her hands. “I wore that lace to catch attention, thank you very much. It’s been at least four months since a solo cover.”

“Well, they do mention the cake-tastrophe in the corner.”

Blue waved her hand dismissively. “That was bound to happen. Scandal sells, but so do I.”

“Okay, ew,” Adam said flatly.

“They’re speculating about you two again, you know.” Gansey scrolled to a new part of the magazine, lifting a thumb to rub against his lower lip. “‘Tryst with a mystery brunette: Heartthrob First Son Adam Parrish caught sneaking back to the W hotel for an amorous rendezvous in the Presidential Suite. Sources say the brunette is none other than Blue Sargent, the twenty-two-year-old member of the White House Trio.’”

“Less than a month!” Blue exclaimed, popping the wine open. “You owe me, Gansey. Pay up.”

He ignored her, dropping the hand from his face. “You didn’t really…”

Neither Adam nor Blue responded. Gansey knew very well that their short-lived relationship on the campaign trail was due to die a quick death, but something - perhaps the lingering stares he seemed to throw Blue more and more often - was making him touchier to the subject of their former relationship. Of course, Adam and Blue did nothing of the sort, only watched the West Wing and made sex noises at young Rob Lowe with a bottle of champagne passed between them. Confusing the tabloids was an added bonus to their game. Blue took a swig directly from the bottle of red.

“You’d think they’d be talking more about your spat with Ronan than your possible sex life,” Gansey said, returning his focus to Adam. Adam finally looked away from the HRH fact sheet and towards Gansey’s squinting eyes. He really needed to put his glasses on, but far be it from Adam to mother Gansey. It had to be the other way around.

“No one cares about what happens over the pond.”

“Don’t they?” Blue said, scrunching her nose in a similar fashion to Gansey. “They seem to follow the royals pretty well. Tabloids were in a tizzy over the Prince’s lack of date.”

“In a tizzy,” Adam mocked. From where she sat on the floor, Blue stretched her short frame as far as possible to nudge Adam’s leg with the toe of her socked foot. “Why does anyone care? It’s not like he’s, you know, interesting.”

Blue and Gansey were staring again, he could tell. “Adam, honey,” Blue started, her southern accent heavy and thick. Gansey reached for the bottle and she relinquished it easily. “I know you hate him, but he’s probably the most interesting royal out there.”

“Wasn’t he caught in a club with his underage brother right after their father died?” Gansey asked, taking a prim sip from the bottle of wine.

“Apparently has a huge sucker of a tattoo on his back, too.”

“Isn’t that against royal etiquette or some shit?”

“Probably.”

Adam waved the fact sheet around, spinning himself so that his head hung off the edge of the couch. “Explain this, then. He’s more wonder-bread than Gansey, and that’s saying something.” Blue spluttered out a laugh, and Adam slung an upside-down apologetic glance at Gansey. “Sorry, man. No offense.”

“None taken,” Gansey said, reaching for the fact sheet and plucking it from Adam’s grasp. “What’s wrong with these? Charles Dickens as a favorite author? What do you have against Charles Dickens?”

Adam and Blue exchanged a glance. “Nothing in theory. It’s just a bunch of garbage I don’t need in my brain.”

Blue snorted. “No thoughts, brain full of GDP calculations.”

“You know I just finished my macroeconomics midterm.”

“That’s the point,” Blue said, snatching the bottle back from Gansey and peeking at the sheet. Her nose scrunched again, squinting her eyes as she always did when drinking. “Mutton pie? Who loves mutton pie?”

“It’s a very versatile meal,” Gansey defended.

“I mean, sure, these are boring as hell,” Blue conceded, ignoring Gansey’s scandalized look. “But this is clearly slapped together by his PR team to make him look like the perfect prince.”

“So?” Adam said, unimpressed.

“It’s not a reason to hate him.”

“Oh, I know. I hate him anyway. But I have better use for my brain space than facts about His Royal Dick.”

“That just sounds like you’re talking about Gansey.”

“To be fair, Adam,” Gansey said, “it’s your fault. You fought him.”

“What happened anyway?” Blue asked. He knew the question was coming, but all the same, he didn’t want to answer. “He was fine when I danced with him.”

“Fine,” Adam said curtly. “Cold and severe sounds more like it.”

Blue’s eyes scanned over him with an uncanny feeling she could see into his thoughts. “So you were...defending me? God, please don’t blame me for this.”

“That’s actually kind of nice, Parrish.”

“No,” Blue interrupted, a hard edge to her voice.. “Not if he does stupid shit because of it. I’m perfectly fine on my own.”

“I know!” Adam rushed to say. “Believe me, I know. It was…” he withered under her look. “...An excuse?”

“Look at me,” Blue said, voice firm. He did. Her lips were thinned with seriousness. “Don’t protect my honor again, please. It’s a weird-ass fishbowl world we live in, but if you do, I will leak to the press that your favorite song is Africa by Toto.”

“Please do,” Adam said, scoffing. “It’s a bop.”

“And do you want it dogging your every step?”

“Maybe I do.”

Blue shrugged. “Your funeral.”

“This is quite Shakespearean,” Gansey said, most likely in hopes of interrupting their budding argument. He gestured grandly to the gaudy tapestry-ridden walls and golden tassels on the furniture, although Adam imagined that Gansey thought it would look more impressive in his head. “Two sworn enemies forced into friendship for the sake of tension between their countries.”

“We’re not enemies,” Adam said. “That implies we’re...on the same level. Have actually spoken.”

“Exactly. Shakespearean.”

“Then let’s hope I get stabbed at the end of this. Blue, will you do the honors? I know you’ll do it mercifully.”

“Oh, cheer up now,” Blue said in a false British coo. “You’ll be the darling of England before Sunday even rolls around.”

“What does it matter?” Adam said, not lifting his gaze from the fact sheet. “They just think I’m another violent American over there.”

He could feel the weight of Blue and Gansey’s stares above his head. No one needed to say the words themselves to invoke the double-wide of Adam’s earliest years, where blood covered most of the carpet. “They don’t mean it like that, Adam,” Gansey said finally, breaking some of the tension with his reverberating voice. “They mean it like… UFC fighters, or rioting after the Patriots lose the Super bowl. Or win.” Gansey’s frown deepened. “I can never figure out how they’re doing.”

“Yeah, I know,” Adam said, lips twisted downwards. He regretted bringing it up. “I know.”

Blue nudged him again with her foot. “Want to watch Parks and Rec and make fun of the Prince’s fact cheat-sheet?”

“God, yes.”

She snatched the sheet from Gansey, reading it over again. “Drinking game: drink whenever Prince Ronan’s interests are laughably terrible.”

“Counter-offer: drink whenever Adam overreacts to his interests.” Gansey offered. Blue passed him the bottle to reach for her laptop instead.

“Either way, we’re getting alcohol poisoning.”

“Oh, definitely.”

“We’ll quiz you,” Gansey offered Adam, just as Blue pulled up an episode of Parks and Rec. “Not season seven, Sargent, what the hell are you thinking?”

“Season seven can be great!” Off of Gansey’s glare, Blue complied, clearly not wanting the fight. “Fine. Season three?”

“Now you’re talking.”

Blue balanced her laptop on an old piano bench and joined their huddle near the couch, beckoning the bottle back.

“Alright,” Gansey began, eyes settled on the top of the sheet. “You better be ready to learn something, Parrish.”

***

None of them succumbed to alcohol poisoning, but they did learn several facts about Prince Ronan.

There was the basic information, things Adam knew already: his mother, Queen Aurora, took the throne with a dreamy demeanor and high hopes at the age of 19 after her parent’s untimely death and her twin sister’s abdication. The year before, she married Niall Lynch, an Irish actor, and practically upset the whole place. Niall died in 2015, not too long before the Rio Olympics, and Aurora’s public appearances had dwindled ever since, leaving the press to have a field day with rumors of illness and mental breakdowns. Ronan had a raven (why, Adam could not fathom) named, of all things, Chainsaw. His best friend, Henry Cheng, was heir to Cheng Industries and managed their charity branch.

Gansey actually knew both Cheng and Ronan, having spent a year at Eton in high school, and Adam just rolled his eyes at Ganey’s relentless knowledge of every human person.

His music tastes were listed as baroque, death metal, and Irish jigs, a combination that left Blue wheezing. “His Royal Highness may be my new favorite person,” she insisted, leaving Adam scowling.

The week came and went, and Adam found himself on a private tarmac following a trans-Atlantic flight with a man in an impeccably pressed suit and a cup of tea nestled into his hands. Calla, one of Blue’s pseudo-aunts and a secret service agent accompanying him, pressed forward to shake his hand and exchange a few words under her breath with him. He almost pitied the man. Calla, with her high bun of perfectly-contained curls and steely gaze, oozed intimidation out of her very being. But to his surprise, Calla actually smiled at the mystery man. She wasn’t quite warm, but he received considerably kinder treatment than everyone else subject to Calla’s jurisdiction. When she stepped back, the man turned his gray eyes on Adam. He smiled without any mirth.

“Mr. Parrish,” the man said, reaching out his free hand. Adam shook it, trying to keep it short and firm as his mother taught him. “It’s a pleasure to have you with us in England. I’m Mr. Gray, Prince Ronan’s equerry.”

“It’s very nice to meet you. I apologize for the turn of events that led to this weekend.”

“Well,” Mr. Gray said, turning and beckoning Adam to an Aston Martin with blacked-out windows, “once you reach my age, Mr. Parrish, you’ll find that these matters are quite simple to see coming.” Adam barely had a chance to blink in response before he was sliding into the back seat of the car, the rumbling of the tarmac shut out succinctly with the door’s closure. A lull in conversation settled around them; Adam, after clicking his seatbelt in, favored looking out the window to London’s scenery over making conversation. The blur of grey and white passed for a few minutes before Mr. Gray finally informed him of his role.

“There are a few matters of paperwork to go over before entering Kensington Palace. They’re currently next to you, and signing them is of highest priority before we begin this weekend.” Adam was no stranger to non-disclosure agreements and confidentiality paperwork; he’d expected the practically novel-length stack. By the time he’d finished signing on all the correct lines, the car slowed to a crawl. “Prince Ronan has just finished his tennis practice, and we’re here to escort him to our first activity.”

“Splendid,” Adam whispered under his breath, unconsciously mimicking Mr. Gray's crisp voice.

The English countryside hit Adam full in the face as soon as he stepped from the car; fresh air, the kind you never find in DC, welcomed him like an old friend, and though the English air was nothing like the air he remembered growing up with in Virginia, it felt nostalgic all the same. He suddenly wanted to be back there, in the home he remembered so well. He wanted to be anywhere but England with the goddamn Prince of Wales loping his way towards him in an all-white outfit, a racket swinging in his hand.

Jesus, how pretentious could he be?

Annoyingly, Ronan was not sweating and not fatigued looking in the slightest. He actually looked incredibly refreshed, the harsh lines of his face softened and a flush under his cheeks, his blue eyes charged and alight. Looking into them, Adam felt startlingly as though he was staring out at the horizon on a cloudless day.

“Parrish,” Ronan called, jogging the remaining distance quickly and closing the gap between them. “You've found the directions, I can see.”

“It’s difficult to miss,” Adam replied tightly, holding out a hand for Ronan to shake. “Extensive wealth tends to smell for miles around.”

Ronan took his hand, and his smoothed palm slid uncomfortably against Adam’s calloused hand. An unpleasant jolt started in his stomach. Ronan affixed his same unkind but not terrifying smile to his face, looking ridiculously like Declan for a moment, before continuing their conversation. Both knew to disconnect their words from their faces, conscious of the photographer unsubtly circling them. “It’s a rather pleasant odor, yes? I prefer it to fried food and pollution.”

“London, known for its fresh air, right?” Adam laughed, the charming laugh that beguiled TV hosts and entranced his mother’s constituents. “Excited for the days ahead?”

“I’d rather lie on the NASCAR racetrack, or even concede an argument.”

Adam slipped his palm from Ronan’s, choosing instead to slap him jovially on the arm. “I never thought I’d see the day where we agree on something, Your Highness.”

“Fuck off,” Ronan said, the words slipping through his unkind but certainly camera-friendly smile with practiced ease, and oh, there was the difference between this weekend and all their other interactions: Adam couldn’t speak of their interactions at all, locked behind an NDA. Ronan could swear as much as he pleased and not face retribution from his family.

“Gladly,” he replied through gritted teeth.

“The car is ready if you’re ready, then,” Mr. Gray said from behind Adam.

“Perfect,” Ronan said, any hint of his bleached teeth disappearing. “The sooner this is over with, the better.”

And they set off, side by side, for the car.

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crimeronan · 5 years ago

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no supernatural au concept i haven’t been able to stop thinking about since considering ronan and opal were once the same age

the lynch family has a reputation. partly it’s because they’re fucking weird, but let’s be real -- every rural town has its share of characters. weird farmers are par for the course. if the lynch family just kept to themselves at the barns, no one would know they existed. however niall lynch is a swaggering larger-than-life storybook hero who loves attention and scandal, so: the lynch family has a reputation

by and large, the household is made up of known entities. niall, the irishman who never shuts the fuck up. aurora, the quiet beautiful wife with the bizarrely gorgeous beadwork at craft fairs. declan, the eldest son who’s got one foot in DC and won’t ever look back when he gets there. matthew, the youngest boy with the enthusiasm and adoration and intellectual prowess of a golden retriever puppy

however. the lynch twins are largely folkloric

it’s not just that they never seem to appear in public. it’s that there are a dozen decade-old stories told by knitting folks on their porches that cannot POSSIBLY all be true, including:

the lynch twins set fire to the post office

the lynch twins stole four pallets of soda from the back of a truck unloading at the henrietta general store and drank all the evidence

the lynch twins lured a man into the woods and stabbed him in the leg

the lynch twins helped the local vet’s office coordinate 30 TNR procedures because they’ve befriended a colony of feral cats

the lynch twins trained a rotating cast of corvids to shit on the mayor when he leaves his office every evening

the lynch twins were banned from three local churches after incidents involving a statue of mary, stained glass worth several thousand dollars, and the preacher’s microphone respectively

adam doesn’t give much of a shit about local gossip but has gleaned quite a bit of it when being deferential and polite to middle-aged women at the dollar store. it takes him a month of attending aglionby to put together that ronan and declan are siblings (they look unbelievably alike, but their body language and speech are SO different) and another week after that to realize ronan’s one-half of the unidentified lynch family variables

“isn’t there another one of him?” adam blurts

declan looks up and blinks, nonplussed rather than smooth for once in his life. “excuse me?”

adam’s eating lunch and has ended up at a table with declan not because of friendliness, but because declan’s taking a break from his roving cast of intransient social interactions to work on college apps and adam’s getting a head start on homework. neither is here to make friends. adam nods across the room at ronan, who appears to be constructing a fully landscaped mountain sculpture out of french fries

declan says “god, i wish” as ronan upends a bottle of ketchup over the fries and causes a volcanic eruption that obliterates everything in the lunch table’s path

that tells adam absolutely nothing but also he doesn’t really care. later, when he and gansey are friends, and he’s no closer to understanding ronan but much more actively annoyed by him, he asks gansey the same thing

“oh, his sister!” gansey says, and beams. this at least explains why she doesn’t go to aglionby. “she’s great. she’s taught me a lot about what plants want to kill you”

adam can’t decide what to make of this. once upon a time he’d think that the affection of someone like gansey predisposed the mysterious lynch sister toward being like declan, but it turns out gansey reserves that ebullient expression for losers like him and ronan and noah alone, so. more data necessary

it’s important to note that this isn’t like, occupying a huge part of adam’s mind. it’s just idle querying because he likes knowing things. to that end, he asks ronan once if he’d ever met ronan’s sister when adam attended the public junior high. they’d be in the same grade, right??

ronan gets weird and evasive with some response about how she homeschools with his mom, and adam’s like okay, some religious cult thing with the women running the farm. whatever. not my issue

adam and ronan get slowly closer over time, etcetc, you know how it goes. eventually adam's invited to the barns. his first few visits are normal. suspiciously normal. aurora is loving and gentle in a way that makes adam skittish - probably more due to his own issues than any Actual malevolence, but who knows - and there is zero mention or sign of a girl living there

it doesn’t Really bother adam, but it kind of bothers him. less because he’s dying to meet her and more because equations that don’t add up make him nervous. his running list of theories include 1) she doesn’t exist 2) she’s dead 3) she’s at some elite boarding school for girls in connecticut 4) she’s an emancipated minor 5) she’s not an emancipated minor but has run away anyway 6) she’s a fugitive from justice 7) she’s in prison 8) she’s dead but, like, worse this time

adam carefully and subtly raises his concerns to ronan by asking, “so is your sister being tortured in your attic or what?”

ronan, reasonably, is like, “the fuck?”

adam’s like, “look, all i’m saying is that when a twin goes missing in a story and no one seems to care, something sinister’s afoot. that’s all i’m saying here.”

ronan’s like, “say the word ‘afoot’ again. you sound like gansey. come on”

he takes adam out for a walk in the woods, which seems like a pretty murdery way to respond. adam, uncomfortably aware of that rumor about luring people to the woods and stabbing them in the leg, is like okay i’m about to die here. i’ve uncovered a lifetime movie plot and now i’m gonna be buried in unmarked barrel #457. what a way to go

this is pretty much confirmed when he gets attacked

he hits the ground before he’s really registered anything beyond a surprise impact. it drives the breath out of his lungs. he flips onto his back right away. ronan’s got half a foot of height on him and stupidly long legs so a sprinting escape doesn’t seem viable. he’s gonna have to rely on the old-fashioned power of fingernails and kicking

he has time to see a pair of blown-pupil eyes WAY too close to his face before the weight disappears from him. the culprit is a girl, late teens, with hair that’s probably blonder when the matted dirt is washed out of it. “for fuck’s fucking sake,” ronan is saying, hauling her to her feet and blessedly away from adam’s vulnerable internal organs, “why. WHY.”

“holy shit.” adam sits up, clutching his chest. he can feel every bone in his body. “god. god. god”

the girl is almost as tall as ronan. she’s dressed in some kind of baggy coverall-ish getup that might once have been an army parachute. she is not wearing any shoes. there’s some blood on her face from a recently-opened scab, and also a black speck on one cheek that adam thinks is a smashed fly

“you didn’t jump gansey!” ronan is saying, extremely exasperated. “why!”

“i didn’t have my hammock yet when gansey first came,” she says. she does not sound remotely sorry

adam looks up and discovers that there is in fact a hammock stretched between the trees. it’s one of those heavy-duty camping numbers with thick canvas and a full insect net. it’s also thirty feet in the air. there are branches on the way down, but they are very precariously spaced. adam does not want to know how she parkoured to leap onto his shoulders

“when you snap someone’s neck,” ronan says, “i’m not helping you hide the body”

“who says i haven’t already?”

“the fuck? and you didn’t ask me to help hide the body?”

she darts a few feet away and pulls herself into a tree. adam watches with slight fascination as she shimmies out along a long branch until it dips under her weight. as he gets to his feet, trying to piece together his wilted dignity, she rides her makeshift nature elevator down until she’s staring into his eyes again. hugging the branch like a snake. absolutely no consideration for how normal human beings behave. it’s almost marvelous

“sufficiently free of my attic, parrish?” ronan asks

“uh, yeah. yep”

“so this is opal,” ronan says

opal flips over so she’s hanging from the branch like a sloth. then hooks her legs around it and reaches down until her palms are flat on the ground. cartwheels out of the tree like a particularly feral acrobat. adam jerks back to avoid being smacked by a faceful of twigs at the whipcrack slingshot of the branch bouncing back

opal pulls a pocketknife from one of the folds in the DIY parachute sewing machine tick protection onepiece from hell. adam eyes her warily

“opal, this is parrish. or adam. whichever. don’t stab him”

“god,” adam says again

opal beams. she opens the pocketknife, but all she does is start cleaning bits of plaque from between her teeth with the tip, which is somehow so much worse than stabbing. adam looks at ronan and finds him pinching the bridge of his nose. it occurs to adam that this is the only time he’s EVER seen ronan express any sense of embarrassment in any social situation. ronan has no sense of propriety. adam didn’t know he was capable of feeling embarrassed

he immediately likes opal just for that.

“yes,” opal says, unconcerned, answering a question no one’s actually asked. “ronan is the normal one”

#i spent nearly. 2 hours writing this stupid thing. this concept is so excellent #trc #pynch #opal lynch #my writing #this was SUPPOSED to be short enough i wouldn't have to readmore it but. shrug emoji #adam parrish #ronan lynch

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lightsandlostbells · 5 years ago

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wtFOCK season 3, episode 3 reaction

In this episode, Sander shows up 15 minutes late with croques (I know this joke has to have been made before, sorry)

Just adding again that if you are looking for an all-positive review of this show, this is not it. Please don’t read if you would prefer not to hear negative takes.

Episode 3

Clip 1 - Robbe on the beach

Robbe is sharing a bed with Noor. He’s doing some good physical acting because even just lying there, I can tell how stiff and uncomfortable he is. He wakes up and looks bummed. It’s pretty early and he’s on vacation so you know he really doesn’t want to be spooning with a girl if he’s getting out of bed right now.

Gotta say the detail of Aaron’s ass being half-exposed in his sleep is a detail that made me lol.

Robbe goes to the beach and listens to music. He types a text to his mom that he can’t make it to see her this week because he’s at the seaside, (because he’s supposedly doing a school project with Jen, lmao) but then he deletes it. So perhaps he is feeling guilt over not visiting, or he’s just got mixed feelings and wants to distance himself from his family situation right now.

Clip 2 - FINALLY

Robbe goes back to the house and sees a mysterious dude. It’s only been like 20 minutes since Robbe left the house, so this guy must have just arrived. Don’t know why they didn’t just combine these clips, especially since it would’ve been a nice contrast to get Robbe moody and alone vs. the jolt he receives with a cute boy’s arrival within one clip.

The important thing is that we finally meet the Even of this season, who I’ve been pretending I didn’t know is called Sander. I’m going to repeat what dozens of other people have said and say yes, this is Jack Frost from that one movie in live-action form.

Sander does a bit where he roasts Robbe about not having breakfast ready and he expected it when he made a reservation; Robbe acts half-amused, half-confused as fuck, as if part of him recognizes it as a windup but he also doesn’t know who this dude is, so maybe he could be for real?

Afterwards Sander is like, let’s go bitch, we’re grabbing breakfast, and he introduces himself. Robbe is still flabbergasted but he follows Sander out the door anyway, possibly compelled by Sander’s charisma, possibly just swayed by a hot guy. He has no idea how important this meeting is in the grand scheme of things. Robbe, your story is finally starting in episode 3!

OK, I like Sander’s intro! It’s in line with Even’s paper towel trick. Sander is getting Robbe’s attention with a dramatic introduction. He made sure to make a memorable first impression. It works not just for Robbe, but for me as a viewer as well. And I like that Robbe was caught off-guard like Isak was and they didn’t instantly fall into banter or anything, because let’s be real, if some strange dude showed up in your kitchen and started talking to you like this, you would be pretty WTF no matter how nice his face is.

I am not sure if this show will do the thing where Sander has been pining after Robbe for a while before this meeting - we have seen glimpses of Sander so it seems as if he’s seen Robbe before, but if he’s not from the same school as I think is the case, then I wonder how much he really could have developed feelings for Robbe? Even saw Isak the first day of school, so it’s easy to understand that he developed a crush in the time between that and S3 just by seeing Isak doing his thing at school regularly, and he had plenty of time to learn who Isak was. With Sander, it seems like he just saw Robbe randomly, and that makes sense for “hmm, a cute guy” but not really this giant crush on Robbe as a person.

This is why it would have been good to actually show what Robbe did or made in the graffiti scene, because it would make sense if Robbe drew something that would have intrigued Sander.

Anyway, the larger point is that this scene does make sense if you consider that Sander was waiting for Robbe and this was a planned intro. I assume there is some way that he found out Robbe would be here this weekend. If this is not something Sander expected, then it’s pretty impulsive of him. Though I can totally buy him winging the booking.com bit if that’s his personality. But it makes more sense to me at the moment to imagine that Sander knew Robbe was coming.

Clip 3 - Robbe and Sander at the store

Robbe and Sander are grocery shopping. Sander quickly establishes himself as having an outspoken, confident personality. I do like how instantly his vibe comes across, which is helpful since we’re making up for lost time.

Sander asking Robbe how many hot dogs one eats has some G-rated “Even immediately starts talking about blowjobs” energy. Or maybe it’s just a coincidence and they really are just talking about food, but like. It’s an Even.

Amber sends them the shopping list full of normal grocery items. Sander is like NOPE, not getting that. Well I hope no one has any dietary restrictions they need to follow, lmao.

Robbe asks Sander how he knows Amber, but Sander gets distracted by the song over the loudspeakers so he doesn’t have to disclose the truth yet. The song is by “Rebel Rebel” by David Bowie. He asks Robbe if he’s a fan and Robbe is like “yeah!” but Sander challenges him to name three of his songs and Robbe is a flop. Again, I do like how forcefully Sander comes across, his personality is evident.

I have to say: out of all the remake Evens, he’s the one who most immediately comes across as a magnetic personality. Granted, he seems to have a very similar vibe to Even whereas some remake Evens have rather different personalities from the original recipe. But Sander does come across as someone you’d meet (or Robbe would meet) and be a little smitten and swept off your feet right away.

David Bowie is also a good choice for an Even’s musical taste, especially because of Bowie’s sexuality. I guess you could say it’s pretty on the nose, but it still works for me. I don’t know a ton about the origins of Rebel Rebel but it references gender fluidity and sexuality, so it’s feels fitting for an LGBT-centered season.

As a diehard Ronan/Adam shipper (they’re my OTP of OTPs besides Evak) this scene of Sander pushing Robbe on the cart in the store is calculated to appeal to me. Pynch peeps, you know what I’m talking about. /finger guns

As a personal tangent, I also think grocery shopping is one of the best things you can do on a first date to know if you’re compatible with someone. I have been grocery shopping with people who were dull and no fun, and I have been grocery shopping where it’s an adventure in itself. I strongly believe that you can have fun with the right person in even the most mundane situations.

Back to Robbe/Sander: this part’s really cute! It gives us a sense of who Sander is and it shows them having fun together. They have a comfortable chemistry and I think Robbe’s vibe in this scene hits the right notes of being starstruck and a little over his head, but acclimating to Sander’s OTT personality and being able to relax and have a good time. He’s certainly having more fun than he expected when he woke up this morning.

The spinning and eventual slow-mo moment to Rebel Rebel! Great! Super effective at catching that feeling of holy shit, sudden butterflies in my stomach? I can’t look away from this person? I think I have a crush?

Sander scanning Robbe and saying it’s expensive = lmao, genuinely funny.

And I do like the idea of Sander pushing Robbe and it being chaotic and messy as a way to visualize/signify the arrival of him in Robbe’s life as a way to shake it upside down. (Although, lol, I kinda hate them for causing a mess for the retail workers.)

Sander crashes the cart and Robbe into some boxes. After checking to see if Robbe’s OK, Sander plays it cool and walks away whistling. I do love Robbe’s reaction, that we see him trailing Sander and sneaking happy glances at him. Good stuff.

Taken on its own, this is a terrific first meeting, and I can see how this scene would inspire optimism in the season picking up from here. However - and I hate to be a downer because this scene worked for me - it’s the same issue that I’ve said before: we shouldn’t have waited two full episodes for this clip. Though this scene was great and established an easy chemistry, it also wasn’t that personal and didn’t last too long, and now they have to go back and hang with everyone else, so how are they going to continue to bond on their own? They should just go find other errands to do, away from everyone else.

Clip 4 - Robbe and Sander in the kitchen

Noor is right there in the kitchen with them, but being hungover, is unable to be a third wheel in the way that Emma was to Isak and Even. Amber’s annoyed that they didn’t get anything on the shopping list, Sander shoos her out and says Robbe and he will cook.

Again, this not the same room for intimacy as Evak because they’re not alone! Anyone could walk in at any moment! People were just there! And I think you COULD do something interesting with that, how frustrating it is that everyone else is there, but it doesn’t work so well when it’s like … the first time they meet and they really need that space to get to know each other (considering, for the millionth time, that we are racing to catch up with only just meeting Sander). We really need to either play into the lack of intimacy and adjust the timeline of the relationship accordingly, or they need to manage some extra moments with the two of them to really establish the connection.

They make croques (weren’t bread and cheese on Amber’s list? So they did get something she asked for, heh) and there’s a fair amount of innuendo and suggestion, with the leaning down and leaning toward each other in the tight space. I do really like that and think it’s effective. They notice the chemistry, Sander touches Robbe’s back as he walks by.

More Bowie with Under Pressure. (This would be a really good song choice for Robbe’s POV to illustrate all the shit he’s dealing with.) Sander is very charming, he’s singing and having a good time, he lights up a joint. He opens up a bit about how making croques is a family tradition and asks Robbe if he has any traditions, and Robbe is still withdrawn and doesn’t go into it. Good moment! Robbe’s family is a touchy subject.

Sander licking the joint is quite an Erotique moment for Robbe. I also like that Robbe is clumsy with the croques, seemingly because he’s flustered by Sander’s Sanderness.

I like the Sander actor quite a bit so far. Like I said, he’s super intense and charismatic. He’s also super fucking forward with Robbe, feeding him some croque while they eye fuck, and I’m sorry but that feels way too pointed for this relationship so far The rest of the scene captures the unstated sexual tension but Sander sticking a sandwich in Robbe’s mouth while Robbe stares back is too obvious and feels like they’re trying to sell this really hard in order to make up for lost time, it took me out of the scene. Robbe is tentatively getting more comfortable with Sander, but I don’t buy that he would be that comfortable at this point. It would have been better if they’d stuck to, like, the subtle thrill of sharing a joint (where OMG Sander’s mouth has been?? Yowza).

Britt shows up and she’s Sander’s girlfriend! Oh nooooo!

Except Robbe and Sander met SEVERAL HOURS AGO so this doesn’t really have much of an impact? Isak pining over Even for a week and Googling him and stalking him creates a big buildup both in audience expectations and in Isak’s, whereas Robbe JUST met this dude. We’ve barely had time to form any expectations.

Imagine if you’ve never seen Skam and you’re watching this in real time. You’d be like “Awww, bummer, this guy has a girlfriend, I guess,” rather than “OH SHIT NOOOOOO” because you’ve been following them for a week and watching their conversations and their eye-fucking and getting to know Even through Isak’s eyes. Because you’ve had plenty of time to become attached to this character and because you’ve had time to sink into Isak’s POV and feel his crush on this guy. You feel the stakes of learning that Even has a girlfriend. Robbe learning that Sander is dating Britt is disappointing ... but how disappointing, really? There’s a low level of investment in Sander so far, for both Robbe and for us. I mean, sure, he’s charming, and we’re probably thinking he and Robbe might be cute together, but at most you would have had five hours to get attached at this point. If you look at it one way, this revelation is good because Robbe had only a brief window of time to get his hopes up before learning Sander has a girlfriend, as opposed to Isak who had a full week.

This is where the season’s odd storytelling choices start to fall down. Because there’s a lot about these last few clips that I enjoyed on a micro level. They work as individual scenes. It’s when you think about them on a macro level that the logic and emotional resonance doesn’t hold up. And I think that there are many, many story elements - in wtFOCK and most of the remakes - where a lot of writing only makes sense if you are coming with knowledge of the original show and sort of filling in the blanks here, rather than wtFOCK putting in the work itself.

I also think it’s something of a disappointment because S3 portrayed the experience of developing a crush so beautifully, the desperation to learn more about a person and get close to them, the obsessive focus. wtFOCK is by no means required to do that, but it was such a vulnerable, intimate way to get into Isak’s head that I can’t help but miss the extended crush period for Robbe. We really needed more of his POV.

Robbe decides to cope by getting high. Aha, there’s that Under Pressure for Robbe!

Actually, it seemed super weird to me that the timestamps had them meeting like 5 hours ago? Because it seemed like they went shopping and went home soon after where Amber inspected the groceries, but apparently there were hours between that, so what were they doing in the meantime? Not anything important, apparently, because we didn’t see it.

Clip 5 - Sad sad Robbe time

The others are playing trivia and Robbe is just social distancing like 10 feet away staring at them while listening to music on his headphones, lmao. Britt has quite the grip on Sander’s neck.

Noor comes over and Robbe asks her about Britt and Sander. Sander studied Visual Arts at I think a different school than Robbe. Imagine how effective this would be if Robbe did this LAST WEEK, like “casually” asked Noor about Sander or something. But of course that would have required the story to be moving forward last week.

Sander stares at Robbe and Noor as they make out. Get back in Robbe’s POV, for fuck’s sake! This isn’t even an impossible moment to have from his POV. Have Robbe and Noor make out, Robbe opens his eyes and spies Sander looking at him, he looks again and Sander has looked away. That creates an element of doubt that will live rent free in Robbe’s head.

This choice annoys me more and more. Where’s the tension in quite firmly suggesting that actually, Sander is into Robbe right after showing that Sander has a girlfriend? There was soooo much juicy tension squeezed from Isak and the audience not knowing what the fuck was up with Even and Sonja. People forget it now, but as someone who watched OG S3 in real time, there were plenty of viewers who thought Even was just stringing Isak along or doubted the sincerity of his feelings, because the show effectively kept us in Isak’s POV and for many viewers there was room to doubt Even’s intentions. Honestly, we didn’t really get real confirmation of Even’s feeling until episode 9. I just don’t see how it serves the story to a) take us out of our main character’s POV b) to make sure the mysterious love interest is somewhat less mysterious this early.

Clip 6 - Paintball

The squads play a friendly game of paintball, and by that I mean they try to annihilate each other. It’s a little hard for me to tell who’s shooting who since it’s fast and everyone has masks and is dressed in either black or camo, except Aaron in his onesie.

Sander and Robbe end up next to each other. They see Britt on the ground. Sander runs up and shoots Britt several times while she tells him to stop, clearly in pain. Britt yells at him to be normal sometimes and to use his head from time to time. Sander apologizes as Britt runs off.

Robbe and Sander exchange a look like “hmm” and Sander says he thinks they’ve won. He walks off. The music feels … weirdly triumphant?

This scene sits pretty weirdly. I don’t think this clip was pointless, I definitely think it has a point, but … what are they going for here. Thinking about it, I’d say the concept of this scene is good, but the execution feels off. wtFOCK has a real tone problem that becomes apparent later in the season.

I don’t think shooting Britt means Sander is manic, but I DO think part of the intent was to show he’s impulsive/gets carried away/can be OTT. Which is not bad (although there’s some sketchiness abut how this is tied to his mental illness if he’s not manic right now, and about how mentally ill people are dangerous) but it’s his reaction that gets me. Because it’s one thing if he gets carried away and we see him show remorse (which he does, briefly) but then he’s like cracking a joke with Robbe. It would be way more effective if we saw his remorse lingering. Not to mention yeah, he could have hurt Britt! It’s not that Sander has to be flawless, but this is one of our first impressions of him and it’s not great. It might work if you think it’s setting up Sander as something of a dangerous bad boy for Robbe (“you only like bad news” go the lyrics) but I’m not sure how much the show leans into that, especially because Robbe seems happy that they “won” rather than alarmed at what the fuck Sander just did.

But the part that baffles me most is how this matters to Robbe/Sander? Is this supposed to be a cute, flirty moment? A “haha, fuck my girlfriend, I like you instead” moment? Because wow, was it cruel on Sander’s part, and Robbe doesn’t seem that bothered by it. I get that maybe Sander IS supposed to be upset with himself but is brushing it off, but yeah, the offense is just too much for me, when physical harm comes into play.

IDK, I could get behind the ambiguity of reactions in a scene like this, but there’s something off about the seriousness of what Sander does - which is acknowledged in-clip by Britt’s and Zoë’s reactions - combined with how Robbe and Sander end the clip, as if we ignore those reactions to make it a fun shippy moment. It’s pretty unappealing. We don’t even really see or hear anything about Sander and Britt making up or talking it out, we don’t see any lingering tension between them due to this incident, it’s like this clip was forgotten. Presumably they made up off-screen before the next clip, but in that case, we should have seen Sander run after her to apologize? Where’s the emotional fallout? It doesn’t really stick for Sander, Britt, or Robbe.

Clip 7 - Bonfire

Robbe is upset with Sander and Britt making out. He goes over to Aaron who is also sitting sadly alone.

Aaron says he doesn’t know how Robbe does it, getting girls, and how he was so chill with Noor in the bathroom. IMO they could’ve ramped up Robbe’s fuckboyness since it didn’t come across that clearly to me, but this is one thing I do like about the potential of Isak and Magnus interaction … the Magnus looking to the Isak for girl advice, making the Isak have to preserve some sort of reputation as a ladies’ man, giving him some cred with his friends that he’s afraid to lose.

Robbe says it’s different because Noor goes to a different school so it wasn’t as bad if she rejected him. But wasn’t she handing out dance performance flyers in the hallway at Robbe’s school? That made me think she was a student there. But IDK how Belgian school works, maybe that’s normal.

Aaron goes over to talk to Amber and makes her a s’more, but Amber walks off because OMG so many calories. Aaron is bummed but Luca takes the s’more and eats it. Uhhh, the obvious buildup here is for Aaron/Luca, wtFOCK writers. She is literally taking and enjoying what Aaron is offering. I sense a connection.

I’m tickled by Aaron referencing American TV shows when he makes the s’more. His s’more is missing the best part, the cheap melted chocolate, which to be fair would probably have caused Amber to slap him over the calorie count.

This scene is at least from Robbe’s POV as he watches them, thank God.

Clip 8 - Haunted house

The boy squad (who are called the Brrrothers) set up a haunted house. That’s actually a pretty fun scenario. They lock the others in, because teenagers don’t care about fire hazards. But still seems like a great time.

Sander helps the others through the window, what a gentleman.

Aaron and Amber have the cliché “fall down into each other” moment so I suppose that’s the start of their romance. Now she holds his hand. Boo, no Luca/Aaron … at least Aaron/Amber is still better than Basile/Daphne so far.

They climb onto the roof to seek a treasure, which turns out to be alcohol. There’s a rooftop party, people drinking and smoking and having a good time. Robbe and Sander share a Look before Sander and Britt get cozy.

I mean, again … would’ve been better if they hadn’t spoken like. Twice.

Clip 9 - Aaron throws away his shot

Robbe is grumpy on the way back from the haunted house, which he calls Jens and Moyo’s ego trip. I think he’s mostly just sour about Sander and Britt, but also he could be annoyed that he wasn’t involved, although that mainly seems like it would be Robbe’s fault for distancing himself.

Aaron valiantly offers to check the house for murderous ghosts before they go back inside.

See, I KNEW Aaron was going to pull some shit with a practical joke when he went inside, I just didn’t expect him to pretend to get SHOT. The dedication… it’s in very poor taste, though.

Of course it’s a prank, but Amber acts very concerned. You know, this is actually a good way to show how Aaron is immature and keep the Amber/Aaron pairing apart … compared to Basile/Daphne where it was just nonstop sexual harassment, here we see Aaron being sweet and thoughtful with Amber and potentially making progress with her, and then ruining it by being an insensitive teenage dumbass. But he can still grow into more of a mature kid and prove himself to Amber that way.

Aaron seems regretful of it, but Moyo and Jens are like YOU DA MAN. I regret to announce that this boy squad kinda sucks so far. At least Aaron seems like he might have some character development, judging by his reaction here.

That was nicely done as a way to create conflict with the Aaron/Amber relationship, and establishing some mutual interest before showing where Aaron needs to grow as a person, even if I’m like ... we really got to stick to Robbe’s POV/story, man.

Clip 10 - Another prank

Moyo and Jens ask Robbe to go get them beers, and it’s a prank and Aaron’s in the freezer so I guess Aaron did not learn anything, never mind.

Echoing what I said above: I’m absolutely not expecting the boy squad to be perfectly well-behaved rational empathetic adults, and it’s not like this prank is some deeply cruel thing, but there is just. So much. Of the shouting, pranking, casual sexism, crude comments, and general obnoxious behavior. I’m really trying to keep in mind that Isak’s boy squad was also full of the horny gross talk about girls at the beginning, and that it was a necessary part of showing Isak’s alienation from his peers. Or that by now on OG S3 we had several awesome moments from Isak’s squad that we haven’t reached yet because the season’s paced a few episodes behind. Still. Ugh. Maybe it’s the shouting? I feel like this boy squad is ... shoutier ... than the other boy squads. Making them prankmasters is also not helping. I think you have to walk a careful line between making them realistically flawed straight dudes who alienate Isak with their talk of girls, and making them screaming caricatures who are all “fuck girls get pussy hot chicks sex sex sex.” There’s a lack of warmth and innocence to balance it out. We need some indication soon that these guys are going to be there for Robbe when shit goes down.

Robbe snaps at them and storms off, and Noor follows him. WOW, it would be good to see ROBBE’S POV of this scene!!!! What happened next!!!

Nope, the clip ends here!!!!

Clip 11 - Halloween

Everyone’s dressed up and preparing to go to a Halloween party. The girls are cute putting on makeup and chatting about necrophilia. There’s a comment where Luca says a guy sounded like “a begging Romanian” and errrrr, I did a bit of a double take at that. It’s not my culture or language so I don’t want to talk out of my ass, but I thought this was generally considered to be an offensive thing to say (although one that people frequently say anyway due to prejudice). What was the fandom reaction to that line?

People are dancing at the party. Apparently Jens and Jana are friends with benefits. Lol, at least Jana is not FWB with their P-Chris, that guy sucked.

Amber’s still mad at Aaron, understandably. Moyo cheers up Aaron on his recent romantic failure, which is nice and a much kinder moment than 99% of the material they’ve given Moyo thus far, and they go look for other girls.

I do love all the Halloween makeup. Look at Robbe’s hair!

Zoë checks her phone because I guess Senne drama is gonna happen.

Noor tags a wall with R+N in a heart, oh dear.

Robbe stares sadly at Sander and Britt dancing. Noor tries to get him to dance because the song is great, Robbe says he’s more of a Bowie fan and namedrops Changes. OK lmao, again, this doesn’t work so well that Robbe has suddenly become a Bowie expert when he’s been at the seaside the whole time. I know it’s silly when Isak starts acting like a Nas expert, but there was enough time for him to look up Nas between when Even mentioned him and when he talked to Emma about him to gain some basic knowledge of Nas. I guess Robbe could’ve been looking up Bowie in the last few days when he’s brooding alone, but lol, he’s also been kinda busy. Or Robbe is just bullshitting about Bowie, but the fact he was able to name a Bowie song when he couldn’t earlier in the episode suggests that he did look into Bowie.

Now there’s the Call Your Girlfriend moment where Robbe makes out with Noor while staring at Sander, then Sander stares back, eyefuck, blah blah.

I gotta say. I’ve seen various takes on Call Your Girlfriend scene by now. And what I notice - at least from my recollection - is that the remakes tend to focus more on the actual eyefucking. Because the OG scene doesn’t actually have Isak and Even staring at each other, going back and forth, for a while. Most of that scene is about Isak’s longing. Isak dances with Emma, looks at Even with Sonja. He kisses Emma, looks at Even kissing Sonja. It’s about Isak wanting Even but instead being with a girl. When Even looks back it’s not this long, extended thing! Because it’s not really about the eyefucking. It’s just confirmation, for both Isak and for us, that we are not imagining this chemistry between them. It’s a shot of hope that Even also wants Isak despite mixed signals. That even though Even is passionately kissing his girlfriend, he’s thinking about Isak. And then Isak closes his eyes - he doesn’t eyefuck Even through three verses and the bridge, he closes his eyes - and we don’t need to be told to realize he’s imagining he’s kissing Even instead.

First of all, the most effective part of the CYG scene is the timing. The song is perfectly timed and Isak’s reactions are perfectly edited to make us feel that frustration and longing that Isak does. It’s a way more vulnerable scene that most of the remakes seem to realize. Most of the scene is Isak looking without that look being reciprocated. And Even’s returned look comes just as we’re losing our minds (plus it matches the on-the-nose lyrics, lol). The endless eyefucking in the remakes isn’t that special or interesting in terms of delivery.

Second, here’s the thing: I think we forget, since we know that Evak are endgame, that at this stage during S3′s real-time run, it wasn’t certain that they were endgame. In fact, many people weren’t even sure Even liked Isak back! I was lucky enough to jump into Skam right before the first kiss, and there was so much doubt, it was crazy. Even and Isak shared an awesome afternoon together, but Even brought his girlfriend to this party, he’s still dating her. Isak is doubting whether this thing can go anywhere with them, if Even even is interested in him like that. And Even looking at him during CYG IS the confirmation that Even’s into him. It’s the confirmation for the audience that we didn’t imagine Even’s attraction to Isak. Whereas in wtFOCK, Sander is like openly staring at Robbe when Robbe isn’t watching, and the show breaks Robbe’s POV to make sure we know this. Sander is feeding him croques by hand while they lock eyes. He’s being much flirtier and the show is not hiding his interest. wtFOCK introduced Britt as an obstacle to this potential relationship, but does she really feel like one when Sander has been communicating his interest all along? Is there any doubt he likes Robbe? Not to mention Sander was just introduced this episode, and there simply isn’t the buildup, the time to weigh in and question his motives, the investment in whether he likes Robbe or not. So the tremendous release of tension in this scene is just not the same, because the tension isn’t there to begin with.

The OG Call Your Girlfriend clip is not about two guys who are hot for each other challenging each other to look away. The clip is about vulnerability and longing, and that vibe has been missing from sooooo many of the adaptations. Like anything in the remakes, change is not inherently bad. Change can provide for some interesting and thoughtful material. But I don’t think the remakes always realized when they’re making a change. On the surface a scene will be similar to OG, but the emotional buildup, the timing, the tension, the symbolism, etc. will be very different, and if you’re not aware of how even the littlest change can alter the meaning of a scene, then the scene can fall flat.

Clip 12 - End of trip

Everyone’s packing up to go home, Amber calls out the boys for sitting there and not cleaning (she’s right!)

Robbe helps Sander with the empty bottles. Sander asks about Robbe and Noor if they’re doing well. Robbe says yeah and then asks about Sander and Britt, Sander says it’s been “ups and downs” with mostly downs lately. Ups and downs could also refer to bipolarity, though I don’t know if I’d jump to Sander having “mostly downs” mentally just yet.

Sander says he seems to get on her nerves lately, and they’ve been together for half a year. Okay sooooo … they’re way less serious than Even and Sonja, and Sander has much less to lose by breaking up with her. I mean. Do they not see where, emotionally, this removes a lot of Even’s conflict in OG, and presumably much of Sander’s conflict in this version? It mattered that Sonja had been with Even for years. It mattered that he was used to her taking charge. It mattered that they’d sunk so much time into this relationship and survived such rough patches. Unless there was a really really drastic event in Sander’s life like right when he and Britt got together, that she was instrumental in helping him face, it seriously cannot compare to what Even and Sonja went through. He asks Robbe what he would do, stay or go.

He reaches around Robbe, getting sorta touchy feely, Robbe steps away.

Sander says maybe he (Sander) is scared he’ll never find someone, someone who’ll love him. Tension between him and Robbe as they consider each other. This insight is good to understand Sander, at least.

Robbe says he thinks Sander will find someone like that, Sander asks where, Robbe says he should meet new people, Sander says “on a weekend trip with strangers?” Robbe is like “...yes.” (Did you get to know each other? Did you really?)

They lean in for a kiss, but then Luca shows up to take out the trash so the moment is ruined, Sander walks off.

SIIIIIIGH this could have been a good scene if they like … developed this relationship or didn’t pace this story so weirdly. On top of the rushed Sander/Robbe development, the buildup to this scene on its own is odd. In OG, the kitchen almost-kiss happens right after the Call Your Girlfriend moment where they lock eyes, after Even stares at Isak across the room. There is palpable tension in the kitchen because they’re basically riding a high together. This is like the morning after their version of the CYG, which should have been an “aha! he likes me back!” moment for Robbe, but instead the momentum and sexual tension just kind of paused and consequently this scene almost feels random, like I felt the contrivances to put them in the same situation as Isak and Even here. (Think about it: Was there a reason this scene had to be the next morning instead of later that night? What happened after that eyefucking clip, did Robbe and Sander just go about their night like NBD?) The CYG clip and following kitchen scene felt like a clear example of cause and effect; the wtFOCK equivalents felt more like they were hitting arbitrary points in the OG rather than feeling fitting to its story.

I just realized we got like NO insight into Robbe’s sexuality crisis this episode, either, the way we did with Isak in episode 3. And maybe we’ll get some of it in the future, but I do think it weakens the story not to have any of that at this juncture. We’re three out of 10 episodes and we’ve barely scratched the surface of our protagonist’s main conflict this season, which is about his sexuality.

HOW I WOULD REWRITE THE EPISODE:

Introduce Sander sooner, for fuck’s sake.

Okay, that ship has sailed, moving on. Have the grocery scene go on longer, or rather, have them go somewhere after the supermarket, like they decide to take a detour to a park or something and go hang out and talk, to the point where Amber starts texting them like “Where the fuck is the food?” Show Robbe unwinding just a little, talking about his own interests, his own taste in music. It’s understandable that he might not open up about the deep’n’heavy stuff yet, but perhaps in either this scene or another one later this week, Sander asks him a family-related question and Robbe doesn’t answer with his whole sad backstory, but he gives a little, maybe has a fond memory of his mom, a tradition they had when he was younger. We see this little happy/sad moment and it’s like something about Sander compels him to open up and we get the complexity of his relationship with his mom, that it’s not all good or bad.

Instead of Sander shooting Britt excessively in the paintball scene, have him and Robbe team up and strategize for a while. We see they work well together, oho. They’re having a lot of fun. And maybe Sander DOES shoot Britt but it’s not this prolonged close-range thing, it’s just him being caught up in the moment as he and Robbe work together. He shoots her (again, it’s a little OTT and enough to make her upset but not quite as bad as in the filmed scene) and she runs off and we see him have an “oh” moment. Oh right, I got caught up being with this guy I like and forgot I have a girlfriend. He feels seriously remorseful and runs after Britt. And maybe when Sander shoots Britt, Robbe has a moment of “!!!”, maybe Sander likes him Like That after all! But then Sander runs after Britt and they kiss and make up because it’s just a paintball game, after all, and Robbe is like, oh, right. It’s just paintball.

This episode really convinces me how vital episode 2 is, even before Mekke øl, in establishing both Even as a character and the Isak/Even dynamic. We get why Isak likes him even before they speak again. It’s so beautiful and honest, with Isak checking out Even’s video, searching for him on social media, that desperation … and then how much R+J hits Isak in the feels. The equivalent would be if Robbe was listening to David Bowie on his earbuds and having a big moment. So er, why didn’t they just ... do that? Robbe is sitting alone listening to David Bowie and watching Sander and Britt be cuddly, and there’s this feeling of longing and being close to Sander via the music while at the same time being so far away. It might be too obvious and faithful to OG, but it would also, you know. Probably be effective. It is also set-up for Robbe talking about how he’s a Bowie fan to Noor.

Have Sander talk to Robbe after Robbe flips out on his friends after the prank! Maybe Sander calms him down by doing a weird Sander thing! Maybe Robbe confides a bit about his shitty home situation or his crappy friends so he and Sander connect on a deeper level! But the prank clip ended immediately after Robbe stormed off, and for some reason the show was like nah, it’s not important after that, even though it was a prime opportunity for good, insightful content into Robbe’s head, or a way to let Robbe and Sander bond some more.

If they cannot talk directly, how about some indirect moments where they connect, other than paintball? We get some stares at each other but those could be structured to show off more of a connection. Their eyes meet when something funny happens. Robbe or Sander are Jim Halperting at each other when Aaron or Amber says something ridiculous, like can you believe this shit? Everyone’s sitting around listening to music and Sander goes and puts on a Bowie song and Robbe smiles to himself.

(Not that they needed to do movie references in this version, but they should have totally gone with Labyrinth references for Robbe/Sander, just saying. I’m not even sure how it would work thematically, I just think it’d be delightful.)

(OR VELVET GOLDMINE, aka “Todd Haynes wrote and filmed David Bowie/Iggy Pop fanfiction where Ewan McGregor and Christian Bale fuck on a rooftop.” God I love that movie.)

In the haunted house, have Robbe and Sander like ...touch, accidentally, or grab each other out of fear, or do one of those cliché “we find ourselves close together, breathing hard and staring at each other” moments. I don’t care! Just give us stuff to work with! Like there even IS a split second moment where Robbe is climbing out of the window and Sander offers him a hand, it’s just not played for any drama or tension or emotional reaction - I mean, wtFOCK are you doing, wtFOCK writers?

There is a glaring flaw with this episode, in that there were SO many opportunities to actually have Robbe and Sander interact throughout the episode, and yet overall the potential was totally wasted.

Consider that Isak and Even went to the same school, but they were in different years and didn’t share any classes. So when, for example, Isak hangs out with Even in Mekke øl, I can easily buy that Isak doesn’t see him again until Even returns the snapback. Or that he doesn’t see Even after the snapback scene until the neon party. Therefore, I feel like I’m seeing all the essential moments of Isak’s interaction with Even, I am getting the “full story” with Evak and sufficient evidence to try to piece together what Even’s deal is.

Robbe and Sander were living under the same roof for days. This is a drastic departure from the original. Realistically speaking, there would have been so, so many more opportunities for interaction, or moments where we could’ve gained insight into that developing attraction. Sander and Britt would’ve been sleeping in the same bed at times, right? How did Robbe react to that? Could we have seen his jealousy? Was there ever a time when Robbe was coming out of the bathroom and he bumped into Sander and it was awkward? Or when someone else left a room and Robbe found himself alone with Sander, and he didn’t know what to say? Did Robbe try to avoid Sander the entire time? Did he try to talk to him but Noor or Britt walked in? Did Sander try to talk to Robbe? Was there any interaction between them besides what we were shown on screen? Did Robbe get up and sit on the beach listening to music and Sander joined him and they shared headphones? Did Robbe go outside one night just to get away from Noor in his bed and Sander was also sitting on the porch and they shared a joint and talked about stuff? Eh? Ehhh???

The problem is that I don’t believe that we were shown the “full story” of Robbe and Sander this week. I can’t believe that because, logically speaking, there would have been way, way more interactions between them even if they were actively trying to avoid each other. For whatever reason, wtFOCK decided to have Robbe and Sander meet at the seaside and spend a week in the same house. Okay. But despite the opportunities that scenario provided to really catch up and develop the hell out of the Robbe/Sander relationship after a delayed start, the show just didn’t do that. And I do feel cheated, not just because it’s rushed and lazy, but because it doesn’t even make sense. Obviously wtFOCK cannot film every minute they were around each other, but it sure as hell could’ve given us more substantial content than it did.

Even if you want to emphasize how they can’t really be alone with each other because they’re with almost 10 other people including their girlfriends ... fucking run with that, man. Milk it for all it’s worth. Make us feel how frustrating it is that they’re not alone, that Robbe is paranoid about getting too close to Sander in case everyone can tell he’s got a crush. Or show them in a scene with other characters, but they’re interacting in an indirect way that makes it seem like they’re the only two people in the room. Their first clip and the almost kiss at the end of the episode is the only time when I really felt that tension at all, and I use “tension” loosely in the case of the almost kiss.

We also have little information this season on Robbe’s specific sexuality crisis, and that’s also hurting the narrative. I’m aware that the next episode dives into some of the clips that OG Skam got to in its episode 3, so I don’t want to harp on it too much now ... but I do have some basic questions, such as: where is Robbe at with his sexuality right now?

We have gotten very little introspection on him thinking about being gay, or what it means to be gay. We did not have the big crush fixation on Sander that Isak got on Even: Googling him, looking him up on social media, trying to find out everything about him. We did not have Robbe taking gay tests online. Yet he goes from meeting Sander to trying to kiss him within days.

And I think the lack of sexuality crisis further diminishes the already weak tension of the episode. If Robbe was more strongly dealing with his sexuality, then I would be able to accept him falling for Sander so fast and so hard a bit more easily, to the point of almost kissing him, even if their emotional connection wasn’t really established. But he hasn’t been given the space to do that. He hasn’t been given the space to even think about being gay or what that means. So he’s supposedly going from internalized homophobia to almost kissing Sander, with none of the introspection shown on screen. Why? What is running through his head?

So obviously, in rewriting the episode, let’s set up some actual sexuality conflict with Robbe. Maybe he’s trying to look up gay stuff online while he’s locked himself in the bathroom or when everyone else is asleep at night, or he’s trying but unfortunately he’s paranoid people are looking over his shoulder, or the boy squad grabs his phone as a prank and he’s terrified they’ll see that he was searching “how to know if you’re gay.” Maybe other people start talking about a sexuality-related topic, a gay celebrity, something like that, and Robbe’s reaction matters - like he makes an ignorant comment and someone schools him, or he makes a downright offensive comment and someone chews him out. Someone makes a gay joke and we see how it makes Robbe squirm. Someone makes a gay joke and then gets called out on it and we see how it makes the wheels turn in Robbe’s head. Have Amber or Noor or whoever make a boneheaded comment about gay people and Sander schools them so we see Robbe get a HMMM moment. HMMM, does Sander like dudes? HMMM, maybe I should reconsider my opinions on gay people? I don’t know, man! Literally! Anything!

Maybe have his advice to Aaron be more obviously bad? More fuckboyish? We see him overcompensating for his sudden Sander feelings by doling out some uber-heterosexual manly man advice to Aaron about how to impress a girl. Aaron is like, are you sure that’s a good idea? Robbe is like, pffft, obviously, what, are you gay? Are you too gay to make a move on Amber? Show her what’s what. This leads Aaron to do something very stupid and insulting and sexist with Amber, which leads to Amber getting mad at Aaron and Aaron getting mad at Robbe for Robbe’s dumbass advice. Maybe Jens and Moyo jump in because God knows we need some good moments from them, and they’re like, seriously, Robbe? Why did you think that was a good idea? Robbe gets mad and storms off.

To some degree I’m like … well, what IS Robbe’s problem with Sander dating Britt, really? He met this hot and cool guy, but a few hours later learned the hot guy had a girlfriend. It sucks, but what is pulling him in so hard and so fast other than Sander being so hot? It’s a disappointment, but is it this truly devastating thing? He doesn’t know much about Sander, they’ve had so much less of a connection than Isak and Even. They had one fun morning, basically. It’s true that crushes aren’t rational and that a teenager can fall for someone based on crumbs and hotness, I fully realize you can’t turn off your romantic feelings like a faucet. But the show didn’t put in the work of making me believe in the strength of those romantic feelings in the first place. The fact that it is realistic for teenagers to have shallow crushes does not mean that I have to accept weak writing to fill in the blanks for this romantic connection that is supposed to be a powerful love story. Actually, let me bold that and rewrite it as a general rule: The fact that something can be realistic does not mean we have to fill in the blanks in order to make up for weak, lazy writing.

I know that Isak and Even didn’t have a TON of interaction before episode 3, but they definitely had more, and Isak had time to research Even and develop a crush him based on what he found: he learned a bit about Even’s hobbies and interests, he was touched by a piece of art that Even loved. They bonded, they BOTH opened up - we saw Isak melt a little and banter whereas Robbe hasn’t really loosened up with Sander, except running around the grocery store (oh, and letting him stick a croque in his mouth, I guess). In the kitchen scene after getting groceries, for example, Robbe basically says nothing noteworthy, nothing to give either us or Sander a better understanding of him, or an appreciation of his sense of humor. There’s no real banter. If you watch the Robbe/Sander scenes, it seems like Sander dominates them, and that’s great for learning about Sander as a character, not so much for feeling like they’re mutually connecting. And if they want to portray Robbe as shy or awkward around Sander, I get it. But I don’t get where the emotional connection comes in, and frankly I don’t feel like I know much about Robbe as a person.

So here’s my suggestion: Don’t do the almost kiss.

I know, I know, it’s a Skam S3 staple. But wtFOCK has really not earned this moment. We’re not in dire need of confirmation that Sander likes Robbe because wtFOCK is making it obvious. The tension is not developed enough to merit an almost kiss, Robbe’s sexuality journey is not far along to make it super believable. If they’re kissing next week for real, just let that happen without the episode 3 interrupted kiss.

If you do want an almost kiss, maybe one or both of them is a little drunk? Or a lot drunk. Like, noticeably tipsy. Their inhibitions are lowered. I could buy that, especially if Robbe has a morning after freakout. oh god i was drunk and about to throw myself at sander!!!!! OR hahaha we were pretty drunk so it didn’t mean anything ... unless...? So long as there’s some effect on Robbe.

Because it’s a Skam remake, we probably do need a big end-of-episode clip, though. A turning point. Personally, I would be fine with just some smoldering unresolved sexual tension that doesn’t go as far as an attempted kiss. (I mentioned above that I am a diehard shipper of Ronan/Adam from The Raven Cycle and let me tell you, you do not need an almost kiss to get across the sexual tension. Once upon a time I wrote a draft of a post charting their relationship development through all their intense stares.) Perhaps Sander and Britt start fighting, Sander walks off, Robbe finds him or maybe he finds Robbe and they’re like, sitting together on the beach, and they have this personal and possibly subtext-laden conversation, or maybe this is when Robbe finally opens up about something personal (like he mentions when his parents used to fight, IDK). They don’t touch. Or maybe their knees brush. They stay perfectly still and don’t lean in. But they look at each other and don’t look away until someone calls for them or comes to collect them, and that’s how the moment is ruined and the spell is broken. That would be enough for me.

Maybe we could end on a non-dramatic note and Robbe and Sander end up sharing earbuds and listening to a David Bowie song. Or a song by someone that Robbe likes and wants to share with Sander, IDK. We leave them staring at the beach and trading surreptitious glances and catching feelings. A real butterflies in the stomach scene.

This also would have been a great episode to hint at Sander’s mental illness. You could show Britt hovering and telling him not to drink or smoke, you could have Robbe walking in as Sander is taking his medication (but obviously he doesn’t know what type of meds they are yet). You could have the suggested ending fight between Britt and Sander contain veiled references to his mental illness because Britt thinks that Sander was skipping his meds or he was doing something that she thought was a red flag. Robbe overhears them arguing but again, he doesn’t realize the real context.

I felt like Noor was kind of in the background for this episode, and look, I thought she was overused in the first two episodes, but in this one, her presence would have been more useful for Robbe’s storyline, such as having her interrupt a Robbe/Sander moment, or showing us that she’s growing frustrated with Robbe’s lack of attention to her.

Stay in Robbe’s POV, I beg you. Do this one simple thing. It’s OK to give random scenes outside his POV from time to time (like the girls doing their Halloween makeup) but anything relevant to his arc should be from his eyes only, and anything not relevant to his arc needs to be managed carefully so it doesn’t suck up too much screen time from his story.

I’ve been looking at the social media that was posted for this season, but I don’t really have a ton to say about it. wtFOCK seems pretty active with the characters’ Instagram accounts, so I commend them for that. So far the text messages don’t seem to be adding a ton to Robbe’s story - I specify Robbe’s story because a lot of them are not even texts that involve him, lmao. Like there’s a text between Zoë and Senne that effectively sets up trouble in that relationship, and it’s way more enlightening than texts that actually involve Robbe.

I think there’s legit potential with this cast. I like all the girls, I think Sander’s actor has some good onscreen presence… even though I don’t care for how the boys are written, I think they have potential. It’s just frustrating when you see the potential being squandered even more than if there were little potential to start.

Just to add, like I said above, this isn’t my culture or language, and I know that I’m missing context. Let me know if there’s anything I didn’t get on account of not being a teenager in Belgium.

#wtfock reactions

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kazbrekkerrs-remade · 5 years ago

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ekrjhak i lov eu and to further enable you: ur thoughts on blue, gansey, ronan and adam and henry? and their group dynamic????? 👀👀👀

Wow this took me ages sorry dfjfhd. Claire... u enable me too much these are my onions <3. Under a cut because I went. overboard :3. I’m probably going to have to shorten this I don’t know if tumblr will even let me post something this long dkshjfhg. (Also I wrote half of this in word so if there’s proper capitalization in places that’s why, don’t let it cloud my image as a cool, laid-back bitch that doesn’t care for grammar.)

i’m starting individually then moving onto group dynamics heh

blue i like blue but it did take a bit of growing on me djjdjhjss. i like her a lot bc i relate to her a lot, but i do think there was a lot of room for improvement. she said she wanted to see the world and make it better but how exactly.. is that a roadtrip? i mean i guess it’s a start in a way, but i think it would’ve been much better if we saw her join an activist organization.. volunteer for a non-profit or something. Also her misguided feminism ah! But I can be a bit more lenient with that bc she was still very young when the series ended so. Also she was revealed to be part tree and then like. Nothing substantial came of it? idk

Ganseyboy! I have to be honest my.. fave uwu. There is a Lot of room for improvement but I just. Optimist!! insecurities :( also he KNEW he was gonna d*e I’m. sad. Anyway like I said a lot of room for improvement as in like.. not everything is about you king <3 also he needs more… idk I don’t wanna say empathy bc i think that’s something different but like. He needs to realise that what he thinks is best isn’t gonna be the way everyone deals with something, if that makes sense? Like basically the “how do you know what’s good for me?” “THAT’S MY OPINIOOONNNNN!!” vine. THAT SAID I love him so much.. he held up the mouse to his face! And smiled!! mon dieu.. when he made bird jokes to make adam laugh… “am I in your dreams?” AH! In a way, blue and gansey are sons of the same gun: I love them both but there could be more done with them tbh. But I have a lot of fun with Fansey, a.k.a: fatima gansey. Kind of like fanon gansey except no one’s opinion matters besides mine <3 (basically it’s the *aggressively kicks off shoes* “yee haw”, parts of gansey, and then me giving him the arc he deserves) maybe we could sum it up to “ma’am that’s my emotional support projection character” but like. That’s my business.

ADAM! Previous endorsements include: “might fuck around and become an adam parrish stan account.” “I’ve only had adam for a day and a half but if anything happened to him I would kill everyone in this room and then myself.” “I go :D whenever I see it’s an adam chapter” (these are more or less verbatim from my previous posts.) that said, I don’t have many fully formed thoughts because I uhhh don’t remember the books that well and also I repress the adam chapters bc they hit too close oops :). tbh I don’t have many complaints at all heh. That’s not to say he doesn’t have flaws but a) I will excuse them because he’s justified, adam does anything problematique and I’m like he can have a little murder. As a treat. and b) I genuinely loved his arc so. No complaints for real!! Also.. adam realising he is capable of loving and being loved…. *kermit meme* I have nearly teared up while writing this. :( one more half baked thought: trc having being “known” as a mark of being loved but then adam being like “i am unknowable” and then there was a moment of him with ronan like “how foolish of him to think he was unknowable”.... *kermit hearts meme intensifies*

RONAN O CLOCK to be honest. I. don’t have any meta or complaints I just love him. I love him a LOT okay.. very much. Big love. Sharp edges tough guy but he names his dream animals chainsaw and gasoline and has a pooping blanket for chainsaw… I can’t remember the quote but that but in cdth where he was like the point is dreamer or not if people are going to get hurt I’m going to stop it… Much to think about. HIS GROWTH. IN THE DREAM THIEVES wow can you believe I read him in TRB and was like ‘I don’t care for him’ ddhfjdhf and then in the dream thieves I’m like.. I have rescinded all previous callouts of ronan lynch. Oops. HE LOVES HIS FRIENDS SO MUCH oh my gosh. Ronan just… he has so much range for feeling!! he feels so much!!! I love that about him so much omg

Henry. Ah. This is where we get kind of controversial jdhjdfh I’m sorry but. I’m going to be honest I like him well enough as a character but I don’t care for him much I’m sorry I just. It’s because he was introduced so late. And only became an important character towards like.. the last half of TRK? I mean, I’d have loved him if he was introduced earlier, hell at least have him come into play in BLLB. The issues I have with him isn’t because of anything about him as a character though, I think it’s all about the way he was handled. I think because he came in so late, there just wasn’t enough time to do justice to the depth that he had, or give him an arc or anything, or enough time to connect with him. Also a part of me feels like he was in there just to kind of tie up Blue and Gansey’s stories and give them something to do after the end of TRK (which sucks because like… making your only canon POC being primarily to develop/give your white characters storylines… (blue isn’t white in my mind but like she was written “colorblind” and when that happens it usually means the author viewed them as white at least in the beginning jhfhgfj. but i don’t remember it too well so if i’m wrong lmk please!)). But probably my biggest problem is: I couldn’t help get the vibe that MS was facing criticism for the lack of diversity and so decided to bring in an asian character. Like, I feel that way bc he came in so late, and because of that he was so half-baked I’m.. gah. GAH. That’s unfair maybe henry is a cool dude hdhfg but I just can’t warm up to him because of this :/

Group dynamics!! With the gangsey I have to *sobs* I love them so much I’m.. what a strange constellation they all were <3

blue and ronan!! BROnan amirite… omg. That moment when blue nearly slips and ronan immediately catches n holds on to her… she would have to remember that :( sons of the same gun. Best friends!

Blue and adam.. gah. As friends it really goes hard. Get you someone who will stab you if you fall too deep into the nether-realm <3 but uhh. As dates. YIKES. Blue really just. Kissed noah while dating him. And didn’t even think for a second “I have a bf” :( not very cool of her to tell gansey about the kiss curse but not telling adam which I mean, I know that happened to show that they weren’t a good match but. Still yikes. Blue was lowkey cheating on adam the whole time during tdt huh :( also bro I am number one stan of the “I wish you could be kissed jane” scene but it happened literally RIGHT AFTER she broke up with adam I’m. relax <3. I wish that was kind of addressed but meh, overall it doesn’t bother me too much. I think they’re great friends :)

Ronan and adam… I can’t talk about it too much. I really can’t!! I really really can’t! the fact that adam goes to gansey like what is love and gansey is like she makes me quiet… and then adam is like “he was so still inside”.. :( omg the bit during trb when ronan is going on a swearing tirade and adam is like “they didn’t start making the civic until ‘73 <3” what a JACKASS I love him. Second secret!! --okay! Wait I have to say: while this one is not really a big deal compared to all their other moments, my favourite quote is “ and he realised that while he’d been looking at ronan, ronan had been looking at him” :uwu face:

Blue and gansey: :3 :33333 maybe it’s the muslim but I really like the tragedy of not being able to kiss :( I would beg just one off you! Under all this! Maybe I’m crying because of the inherent romantic-ness of the night sky with all its stars and late night drives :( wow I love them. Also i know most people find it annoying but I personally love the “I’m never gonna fall for this person” *fast forward to getting to know each other* “ahahah. :) I have rescinded all callouts of ____. she is now my girlfriend (long story)” (not to be confused with enemies to lovers <3 (not to be confused with enemies to friends to lovers <3)) also they can kiss now thank you very much.

Okay I will just preface this with: gansey’s relationships with both ronan and adam have the “how do you know what’s good for me” element to them so I don’t have to address it later hdfgjlfj but bro they love each other so much I’m… “dream me the world… something new for ever night” you’re leaving for TWO DAYS.. gansey gave up monmouth omg what became of that I really forgot khffhk did he get it back. I don’t even need to elaborate on ronan, “ronan would do anything for gansey” :(

ADAM AND GANSEY I been WAITNG for this one! Turn it up! Bro if you saw the whole face I made when I realised it was time for this kdhfhfkhu this is so loaded despite the fact that I cant articulate it <3 the.. idk what to call them. Parallels? Foils? I didn’t take lit sorry but he RANGE we could have had there… remember when gansey was shocked in trk bc :0 you guys came with me and also “they had run for him”. bro their whole relationship had so much. Tension because of their different backgrounds and fundamentally different outlooks because of their backgrounds, and I think if we had seen them properly connect then both of them could have grown from that. I know we see adam understanding gansey a bit better I don’t remember when that happened but I know it did at some point hhdsf but gansey.. never does! Huff and puff. It’s really so FRUSTRATING to me bc that could have key development for gansey but also for adam and gansey’s relationship. And also I feel like we didn’t.. see them try either? Which is so frustrating like idk if it’s a fault on stiefvater’s part or just with YA lit in general that platonic relationships are kind of ignored. Or maybe it’s because idk I remember ms saying she had a lot of issues while writing trk.. but still. We could have really had it all but instead I have to live with “don’t break him adam” I’m (: ok but now I must lighten the mood hjsdhf so might I add: when one of them sees the principal in his crazy funky junky hat and goes “yee haw”… when gansey is like :DDD hey ADAM guess WHAT and adam is like ? and gansey is like oh it was a fully casual problem with the ALTERNATOR of my car of COURSE it was the alternator, it was really simple and I fixed it with much ease :D and adam is like :’D felt like the had hatched a baby bird.. my uwus. ADAM! give me an idea! ALSO if anyone will allow me to venture into adansey territory…. the fact that adam is cabeswater’s magician and gansey now.. is cabeswater in a way. MUCH to think about. I still spend a lot of time thinking about the dryad au the problem is I have never been to progress past the “vague concept” stage of stories and this is why I don’t write dhfjhfdhf. But yes. I think about it often :3

i also like the henry with the gang, i think it could work really well but once again it wasn’t given the time for me to really see it :( also. ronan being racist. and adam laughing along with that. why was that included, ms turn on your location i just wanna talk

okay once again thank you for enabling me claire and i’m so sorry for this monster dsjkhfjkdhg

#aha. am i more than you bargained for yet <3 #claire tag #asks #mutuals #anyway if for some reason you ever wanted a comprehensive guide on my thoughts on the trc characters here it is <3 #though it's not really comprehensive kjhdsjkhfg #when i reread trc. and remember it this time. then you will know #anyway this took me three weeks sdhfkjdfh sorry

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ragesingoddess · 5 years ago

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Pynch rwrb au

Gansey is the first son of the United States. Adam is his best friend, and also his counselor. He lives with Gansey in the white house (only because he works there; he only accepted after he had graduated and had a reason to stay there)

Before that Adam lived in a small apartment that he was barely able to afford. Gansey of course tried countless times to pursade him to move in with them but Adam was having none of it.

Now Ronan, is the prince of Wales. He hates his brother Declan and after his father (the king) was killed mysteriously his mother became a ghost.

Ronan has had a crush on Adam for 4 years now, ever since he saw him standing next to the fist son. He always thought that the boy looked different, kind of out of place but at the same time he was intrigued by his determined stare.

Adam now claims he hates the arrogant and cocky prince of Wales who keeps his hair buzzed to piss off his brother and got a secret tattoo when he was 16. (in reality tho he always found him pretty, different from the rest of nobles who claimed to care for the people and in reality did nothing to help those suffering.)

They meet at Declan's wedding. Adam is there with Gansey and Gansey's girlfriend, Blue. Ronan is drinking somewhere with Noah, trying to avoid talking with anyone that is not an absolute necessity.

At some point Gansey is off doing his fsotus work or something and Adam is alone and Ronan takes the opportunity to go over and talk to him.

They don't really hit it off. Adam is not willing to let go of his 'I hate the prince' nonsense and he replies to all of Ronan's messy to say the least attemptes to make conversation.

Ronan doesn't know how to communicate™ so he tries to connect with Adam by offending him the best he can. Adam loses his temper, goes to leave, ronan tries to grab his hand, Ronan fails to hold him back and boom. They just kind of destroyed the wedding cake.

It's kind of a mess after that. Gansey is absolutely freaking out because they did just destroy the royal wedding and fuck Adam this is not good for any of us and rumors are starting to rise about the hatred between the kids of the white house and the prince. So of course he makes Adam start a fake friendship with ronan

Ronan is kind of freaking out on his own bassicly. Declan made him accept of course. And well Ronan says yes its not like he cares, or anything. ("Shut the hell up, Noah.")

Long story short Adam comes to visit. Along with Gansey and blue. The do everything they are supposed to, public appearances and all. (Ronan even allows Adam to post a picture on Instagram)

And well Adam is surprised to find out that he doesn't really hate Ronan. And Gansey and blue also get along with Ronan well (Noah is absolutely as heck fangirling "Ronan I can't believe it. You actually made friends.")

They start talking a bit after. Ronan is actually using his phone which earns him a lot of freaked out stares and impossibly loud cries from Noah and Matthew. (Ronan is not only using his phone he is also smiling can you believe)

Slow burn and everything, Ronan is in love Adam is having a gay crisis™ and blue is making bets with Henry about how long will it take for Adam to figure it all out. (hanry can also be a politicians kid what do I know)

It happens on Ronan's birthday. They are all on the palace for the party and then they leave to go celebrate as a friend group and Adam is laughing and even singing karaoke with Ronan who also happens to have a stupid grin on his face. Ronan kisses him when they return to the palace. They stayed outside while the others went to sleep, and Adam looked at him with his burning blue gaze and Ronan was kind of drunk but not drunk enough to not know what he was doing.

Ronan gets inside leaving Adam freaking out alone outside for a solid two hours.

Their flight is scheduled early the best day. Ronan does not show up.

Back on the white house everything is crisis. Adam is freaking out full on rambling on gansey, Henry and blue and trying to make him get his shit together and call Ronan.

Adam does. Ronan does not reply.

When they meet again at a charity event on the white house Adam shoves Ronan into his room and kisses his brains out.

They don't talk about what they are for a while. They make out a lot and they obviously both like each other but they are also idiots. Blue is trying to get Adam's head out of his ass, Noah is trying to get Ronan to just talk with Adam but his feelings while gansey is totally oblivious ("You mean to tell me that all this time they have not been dating?)

Ronan shows Adam the secret forest he used to go as child hidden in the palace's back gardens. Adam tells Ronan about his past. Ronan kisses him.

Chaos ensues, lots of making out in the closets before gansey comes back, lots of blue rolling her eyes every time they bumb their knees together under the table.

Noah makes the group chat of course. And it's a mess. A beautiful mess, really.

Ronan is the one to actually say I love you first.

Adam panics. Not because he doesn't love him back but because his upbringing had lead him to question if he is capable of love in the first place. He freaks out. He doesn't say it back. He also stops responding to ronan's messages.

Ronan is angry. Not because Adam does not love him back but because he doesn't have the guts to speak to him and tell it on his face. He is also so in love with him it hurts and the thought that he possibly just lost him is enough to fuck his mind

Blue tells Adam to get his shit together. Henry agrees. Maybe gansey nods. Adam takes the first place and goes to England.

He tells Ronan about his family some more. The whole truth this time. He cries. Ronan tells him he is an asshole for believing that bullshit his parents tried to make him feel about himself. They kiss (maybe angry kiss a bit what do I know). Adam says I love you back)

From now I'll change it up a bit, because I can

Ronan and Adam don't exchange emails so they don't get exposed. But the rumors start rising because they appear together more and more publicly and in intimate short of ways.

Adam panics. The last thing he wants is to mess up Gansey's mothers campaign. Gansey tells him he doesn't care. If he is really sure about this they will find a way to deal with this in the best possible way. He cares more about Adam than he does about politics. (also Gansey's mom isn't like Alex's. In my headcanon she is not even that dedicated to the cause. Adam cares though. Adam believes they can make a change.)

Ronan does. Not. Care.

Declan is NOT homophobic (Jesus can we stop portraying him as an asshole) he just wants what is best for Ronan, his image and the kingdom. Ronan tells him he is sure. Declan questions his choices (he has his reasons, hive him a break) but he goes along with it.

They don't exactly 'announce' anything. It's not their style. But they don't deny anything either, and when Adam is Ronan's plus one in the single random ass gala he was forced decided to actually go, no one questioned it at all.

Gansey's mother gets elected again. Adam is still Gansey's main counselor. He also just finished his masters and is finally accepting his role and his importance in the white house.

Adam also drives Ronan to Henrietta, to show to him where he was raised. But it's not only the place where the trailer park was. It was also the place where Adam learned to fight for himself, the place where he learned that hard work is the only way to get you where you want to be, the place where he met gansey and blue, the place where he learned to hope. And maybe Adam thinks, as Ronan is kissing his knuckles, some day, he may be coming back.

(i posted this a few months ago as a response to a headcanon but ive been thinking about it lately so im posting it again.)

#pynch #pynch headcanons #raven boys #red white and royal blue #adam x ronan #Adam Parrish #ronan lynch #richard gansey #blue sargent #henry cheng #noah czerny #Trc

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abarbaricyalp · 5 years ago

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The Babe With The Power

@pynchpromptweek

Pynch // Prompt: Future/Kid Fic // Rated: G

No archive warnings, but Adam bruises his face in the second half and the injury is discussed

AO3 Link

“We have to talk,” Ronan said, leaning on the door way to the living room.

Adam looked up at him, leaving his hands to the mercy of RG IV in front of him. The baby wasn’t actually called RG IV. Actually, the baby wasn’t a Richard at all. She was a Noa Percy and had stalled the great debate about whether Blue would allow Gansey to name their son RG IV. But they’d all spent so long calling Blue’s baby bump RG IV that the nickname stuck when they weren’t actually talking to the baby. (Names were important for cognitive growth, they were told, so don’t fuck her up with your joke)

RG IV gnawed at Adam’s knuckle and Ronan scowled at her. “You shouldn’t be baby sitting so much.”

Adam frowned and pulled the baby into his lap. “What do you mean? You volunteered us for the summer!”

“Yeah, but you’re supposed to be working on your dissertation and you have that grant proposal in a month. You should be focusing on that.”

“What? Do you want more time with her?” Adam asked. “I’m balancing everything just fine. I’m ahead of schedule on my dissertation and the proposal is being edited right now. If you want me to back off to give you time, just say, Ronan.”

“I don’t want more time with her. I already have to entertain her when you’re writing.”

Adam stood suddenly, a fast flash of anger. “You told them we’d take care of her. Get over yourself, Lynch,” he snapped, cuddling her closer to his chest.

Ronan’s jaw worked and Adam could see it all the way across the room. “She’s gonna forget what her dad looks like ‘cause she stares at you so much.”

Adam’s eyes widened and his arms tightened around her. “Did Gansey tell you to do this? Is he mad at me?”

Ronan made a face. “What? No. Gansey would probably be honored if she started to call you Daddy. He’d be like, ‘That’s fair, I get that.’”

Adam rolled his eyes and relaxed a little bit. “Then what the hell is your problem?”

“Watch your mouth, she’s literally right there.” Ronan shifted from foot to foot, chewing on his lower lip in irritation and anxiety. “It’s distracting. And she takes up so much room. I mean, there are baby toys down our couch and you're always sleeping with her on your chest and that's just a safety concern to begin with. Her bottles are all over the drain tray and I almost put formula in the coffee this morning.”

Adam steeled his jaw and shoulders, glaring so hard Ronan felt it cut him to the quick. “If you want me to take a step back, I will. But I think you’re just throwing a fit. Here.” He crossed over to Ronan and held RG IV out. “You tell Gansey that you don’t want her around.”

Ronan took the baby, immediately cuddling her in the crook of his arm and letting her hold his other arm hostage to chew on his bracelets. “You gave her a bath the other day in the sink and you were baby talking her and I walked into a door.”

“I remember,” Adam said with a nod.

“And I don't even know which is worse--when you're talking her nonsense or when you're sitting there, asking her serious questions about whatever paper you're writing and nodding along seriously when she coos back at you.”

“I knew it!” Adam crowed. “You have baby fever! You’re not upset, you’re overwhelmed!”

Ronan glared at him. “I do not! I am not! It’s just that my boyfriend is always hugging on her and kissing her and you’re so good at it, I want to scream.”

“She’s our niece. I’m not gonna send her home just ‘cause you never learned how to process emotions.”

“You’re pursuing a doctorates! You should be living a distractionless life!”

“Oh, ‘cause you’re so distractionless.”

Ronan scowled at him for a second longer before sitting heavily on the couch. “I didn’t want kids. I wanted a family, wanted my family back. Kids felt like I was trying to replace them and I didn’t want to. And, y’know, bein’ gay and all. And I never thought I’d actually get to fall in love.”

Adam sat down next to him. For a moment, he just smoothed his thumb over the baby’s weirdly soft forehead. “I always thought I shouldn’t have kids,” he said eventually. “That I might end up too much like my dad. I figured he musta been in love at one point, he must’ve been halfway decent and it was just me who ruined everything for him, so I should avoid kids too.”

“Clearly you’d be a great father,” Ronan muttered.

“Yeah, I get that now. But I’ve grown a lot since then too. Who knows what might’ve been true if things in my life hadn’t happened the way that they did.”

“Adam, you’re a good man. You’re nothing like your father. You never would’ve been.”

Adam shrugged. “Yeah, but that wouldn’t have been enough to convince me to have kids, probably. But now I have you and I see myself in such a different light, I’m a different person. And you’re right, Ro. I am good at this. I love it so much.” Like she was trying to prove his point, RG IV let go of Ronan’s bracelets to grab Adam’s hand and chew on his thumb again.

“It’s a big change. And I’m having to come to terms with a lot of things about myself that I didn’t know, or didn’t want to know,” Ronan said. They sat in silence for a few moments, watching the baby who was keen on watching them too. She had a big, gaping grin for them each time she caught their eye. “I’m sorry I snapped at you,” Ronan eventually said.

“It’s alright,” Adam murmured, leaning into his side. “I know you didn’t mean it. And we don’t have to make any kind of plans, Ro. I mean, this is literally the first time we’re talking about it. It’s not like we should be at an adoption agency tomorrow morning.”

“I could dream us a kid,” Ronan said immediately, like he was anticipating Adam’s response. “A little kid with your hair and my eyes and your freckles and--”

Adam pressed his hand over Ronan’s mouth. The baby watched intently. “You can’t dream them. I can’t lose you both in one moment.”

Ronan sagged under Adam’s hand and his eyes lowered before he nodded. “I won’t. I promise,” he murmured. He met Adam halfway in a kiss and the baby giggled between them.

Two days later, Ronan ran through the door, breathless and terrified. “Adam? Where are you? Are you okay?” he asked, rounding into the living room with a panicked look on his face. He saw RG IV first, asleep in some mini-bed on the couch, perfectly safe and happy. Then his eyes found Adam, and his face, and the already mottled bruise down half of it. “Oh my God,” he breathed, crashing to his knees in front of Adam.

“Please don’t wake her up. She was so freaked out, I thought she’d never go to sleep,” Adam groaned, leaning back in the couch and replacing an icepack on his face.

“What happened, Parrish?” Ronan asked, voice still tight with worry.

“I was chasing her around the house and I ran into the french doors on the other side of the kitchen. One was open and one was shut, but I was looking down at her and I didn’t see it.”

“Adam, you look like you got hit by a baseball bat. Move your hand, let me see.”

Adam sighed and sat up, obediently pulling the ice away. Ronan hissed in sympathy as his cold fingers probed at the bruise. “Did you clean these cuts?” he asked, tracing two fingers down either side of the gash that ran from the top of Adam’s forehead to his eyebrow and then picked up again at his cheekbone, a perfect visualization of the edge of the door.

“No, I didn’t have time. It was all I could do to get some paper towel on it to stop the bleeding,” he explained.

Ronan flicked his opposite temple. “I’ll go get the alcohol and some bandages,” he said. “How’s your head feel?”

“Hurts like hell,” Adam admitted.

“We should take you to an emergency clinic. You might have a concussion.”

“I don’t have a concussion. Besides, I’ve lived without getting them diagnosed before.”

“Doesn’t matter. You have to go get checked out.”

“We can’t take a baby to a med clinic in the middle of flu season.”

“Then she can go to her grandmother’s place.”

“You really got used to leaving kids with them, huh? Having withdrawals, Lynch?” Adam teased softly.

Ronan shoved Adam’s shoulder just as softly and got up to go to the medical cabinet. When he got back, Adam was rocking the mini-bed, hand pressed over the baby’s chest as she clung onto his index and pinky fingers.

“When I ran into the door, I knew I’d hurt myself pretty bad,” he said as Ronan sat himself next to him. “I was in pain, I couldn’t think, my vision had gone a little black, I was bleeding immediately. And she’d gone running off still and all I could think about was how badly she could’ve been hurt if she’d hit the door instead of me. I mean, she was running full speed. And she’s fast. It’s part of why I wasn’t paying attention. I didn’t want her to run away from me and be able to hide.

“But I could only see her running into the door and how small and fragile she is. She noticed I wasn’t chasing her and she came toddling back and she crawled into my lap and I just...hugged her so tight. I was so scared.”

“Nothing happened to her, Adam,” Ronan said, setting aside the alcohol wipes and grabbing neosporin. “She’s totally fine. Look at that little face.”

Adam sighed and rubbed his hand against her chest and tummy. “She was so sweet about it. She pointed up at my face and pouted out her little lip. She really freaked out when I carried her in here and kept wincing and stuff.”

“Adam. Adam. Look at me. Look.” Ronan turned Adam’s face to his. “She’s okay. And you’re gonna be okay. This wasn’t a tragedy.”

“It could’ve been, Ro.”

“But it wasn’t. Hey, look. You did good, alright? You took care of her, got her down for a nap even.”

“It was already nap time. That’s why I was trying to wear her out.”

Ronan snorted out a laugh, which made Adam smile, a little begrudgingly. He finished bandaging Adam’s face and leaned over to kiss the corner of his mouth. “You did good.”

“There’s still so much we don’t know, Ro.”

Ronan shrugged. “Sure. We’re twenty five and haven’t dealt with a baby until her. We’ve got a learning curve. But, hey, at least we get to practice with the best baby ever.”

Adam smiled over at the baby and nodded. “She’s pretty cool.”

“Gonna be cooler for knowing us.”

Adam rolled his eyes and leaned over to kiss Ronan again. “Well, not so much for knowing you.”

“Now I’m definitely gonna drag your ass to a med clinic.”

“I might let you. To set a good example for her.”

Ronan hummed and kissed him again. “One day you’re gonna do something for me and I’m gonna keel over.”

“Yeah, I’ve never done anything for you,” Adam agreed sarcastically. “You have a hard life.”

“It’s getting better.”

Adam stole another kiss. “The best is yet to come.”

“You’re a damn sap, Parrish,” Ronan murmured against his mouth.

#pynch #adam parrish #ronan lynch #pynchpromptweek #kid fic #writing #otp: in more than his lips

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pynches · 5 years ago

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the five stages of grief

a/n this is a very personal story to me. ive dealt with a lot of grief, way more than i should have, in a short period of time so i figured it would help to write about it. this is a friendship-centric fic so no relationships happening. i hope you still like it.

tw: mention of child abuse but it’s only a sentence mention, loss of a parent

word count: 1927

ao3 link

The biggest misconception about grief is that you feel it right away. That the moment you hear someone you once loved died, you break down, sobbing on the floor from the pain you cannot hold in. We’ve seen the movies, read the books, watched the tv shows and how grief was portrayed in them.

It’s a lie.

This is how it goes.

The police calls Adam at 5:37 pm, something about an accident his mom got into and his father who cannot be reached. Adam stopped listening after the first words, “I’m sorry to tell you but”. The resignation in the police officer’s voice was enough.

Dead on impact.

No revival possible.

And that was it.

There were no tears when he told the police that he would be there soon. No tears when he had to identify his mother’s body not even an hour later so he could sign the papers.

“It’s hers,” he told them.

And that was it.

Adam still went to school despite the school counsellor telling him that it wasn’t required. He lost a parent after all. He was tired of the concern thrown around though. The pity in the counsellors eyes, the pity in Gansey’s. Ronan was the only one who treated him semi-normally and even he was more careful with Adam than usual. Adam couldn’t blame him, though, he lost a parent too after all. But Adam did blame him, for not treating him like nothing happened even though something did, for making him feel like there was something different even though there was.

Truth was, Adam didn’t feel like something happened, didn’t feel like his mother was well and truly gone. He pictured himself opening the door of the trailer and seeing her bent over the stove like she often was, or cleaning up after his father which happened even more often. He felt like he could pick up the phone to call her and hear her familiar voice on the other end.

There is bliss in denial, it makes everything hurt less.

The funeral was his job to organise. His friends had tried to help with sad half-smiles and pats on his arm. Adam didn’t feel anything. No sadness, no anger, but no happiness either. The emptiness inside him was all-consuming and nothing was left behind.

He picked the music and used his mom’s hidden savings to pay for the costs so that his father couldn’t drink it away. His throat tightened when they lowered her casket into the ground and filled the hole with dirt, his eyes full of unshed tears.

Adam swallowed.

And that was it.

Denial was out of the question now. Every time he closed his eyes he saw his mother’s body, one that held so much life before, too much for the small trailer in which it had been contained.

Now it was anger’s turn to rear its ugly head.

This particular emotion was one Adam had tried to avoid his entire life. It just reminded him of bruises and wounds that never truly healed. His father instilled fear upon him when he got lost in his own anger and Adam tried to ensure he would not do the same to anyone else.

Until he did.

Until he saw a woman cross the road from his booth inside Nino’s, her hair the same dirty blonde his mother had passed down to him.

Until he rushed outside because it was his mom and she was there and despite every phone call she didn’t make to the police and despite every time she turned her head when he was lying in a pool of his own blood. Adam wanted to rush into her arms and feel them wrap around him like she had done when he was younger and the world was less cruel.

Until the woman picked up her phone, her voice high and sweet unlike his mom’s, rough from years of chain smoking and yelling at him.

Until Adam stopped in his tracks, watching as the woman walked away, unknowing that she snapped something inside him that had been coiled up since the first ring of his phone.

Until he punched a wall.

Until Blue came rushing out of Nino’s. She kept a safe distance from Adam’s balled fists, probably on Gansey’s orders.

Adam walked away with his knuckles scratched and bruised, disappearing into the evening.

The only thing he left behind was his blood smearing the now stained wall, an almost literal red flag that warned people to stay away from him.

He didn’t stay to wipe the hopelessness from his friends’ faces. He walked away before he did worse.

And that was it.

Adam never visited the church he lived above. He wasn’t religious but sometimes, when people feel the defeat clawing at their throats, they search for miracles everywhere. They look for signs that would indicate their loved ones were still alive, even if it was just the wind that had slammed the door closed. They search for meaning in death, finding solace in the thought that it wasn’t for nothing, even though it was and always will be. They pray to gods they didn’t believe in so that they could fool themselves into thinking someone was listening.

Adam had his hands clasped in front of him awkwardly, not used to the position. He wasn’t sure how to begin a prayer and he wished he had googled it but that somehow seemed insincere. So, he closed his eyes, clenched his hands tighter, and begged.

“I will live at home again if it means you will bring her back.”

He sat on the same pew, every night before he went to bed, when the church was dark and empty, praying to God, to someone that her death could be reversed.

It never happened.

And that was it.

We’ve seen the movies, read the books, watched the tv shows and the way guilt was portrayed in them. Guilt as an instant reaction, guilt as a way of making up for years of neglect, guilt as an excuse for the police. Guilt as something you can live with.

It’s not true.

This is how it feels.

It sneaks up on you quietly. One minute you’re making canned soup on your shitty stove and the next you’re on the floor. Not quite crying. You can’t yet. But you feel the burn in your throat that has now become a constant, the shaking of your hands, the rapid pounding of your heart.

“If you had still lived in that trailer,” the voice in your head tells you. “You could have prevented this.”

That’s how it starts and it never really ends.

Adam puts his books in his locker and exchanges them for the ones he needs for the next two periods.

“It’s your fault she’s dead.”

He drops the book on the floor, not looking at Ronan when he hands them back without a word.

He fist-bumps Gansey when he takes his usual seat next to him but he can’t focus on Gansey’s nervous rambling. It feels like the entire classroom is staring at him, mumbling the thing he had told himself over and over last night before sleep took him.

“It should have been you.”

And that was it.

The emptiness feels deeper this time.

There was no way of explaining this feeling, the world didn’t have the words to describe it and they really shouldn’t.

The days feel longer, seemingly going on forever. Adam feels like he is in a haze, sadness clouding his rational mind.

Adam is independent. Always has been. He learned not to seek comfort from other people because it would just result in disappointment. Instead, he taught himself to hold it in, every emotion that he didn’t want, he would just let go.

It doesn’t work like that.

When he was a kid and his father started to drink more, he would seek the comfort of his mom and she would give it to him. She would hold him close and brush through his hair with her hand. Back then, she always faintly smelled of fresh grass. He cannot even remember what she smells like now and he hates himself for it. But he does remember her gentle touch, her lightly freckled arms closing around him, his face in her neck.

Adam is independent. Learned to be that way. But right now, he needed his mom.

One person cannot bear the constant weight of grief on their shoulders. One day they will succumb under the weight and it will either crush them or they will have people who stop it from happening.

Once the intense sadness hits, people don’t go to a bar and drink until they forget their own name. It’s not like the movies, books, or tv shows.

It’s wrong.

It happens like this.

Gansey persuaded him into coming to Monmouth and help the group with their research. And it’s fine, it’s good. Until it’s not.

Because the word “dead” seems highlighted on every page even though Adam knows it’s not. Because death is his only focus, not Gansey’s voice or Ronan’s grumbles or Noah’s quiet snickers or Blue sighing. Because suddenly his knees buckle and he’s dry heaving on the floor, the pressure in his chest growing, his heart pounding in his ears. He can’t hear Ronan calling his name, he can’t feel Gansey holding him up. The tears are flowing down his cheeks and it will not stop no matter how hard Adam is pressing on his eyes. He can’t breathe and everything feels off and he wants to claw his skin of just so it doesn’t fucking hurt anymore. He can feel himself hiccup, can hear himself gasp but he cannot do anything but curl in on himself and try to stop the sobs from overtaking his body.

And then Ronan cradles his head against his neck like his mom used to.

And Gansey slings an arm over his shoulders, holding him tightly.

And Blue rakes her fingers through his hair in soft motions.

And Noah wipes his tears away.

And he cries.

He lets himself fall apart in the arms of his friends. For the first time since it happened, he feels like it’s okay that he’s not okay. That he can let himself go and feel this in the safety of his friends’ embrace. They take in his heaving sobs and return whispers of encouragement. They make him eat something because he had forgotten and make him drink water when his head is pounding. They stay with him when he eventually falls asleep, in the middle of a pile of his friends, not knowing where his body began and theirs ended.

And that was not it.

Because grief doesn’t go away, ever. Not even with the help of kind friends. There will always be a hole inside of you that the person left behind. Sometimes the anger will return, at them for leaving you, at yourself for letting them go, at the world for being so unfair. And sometimes the guilt will return because there will be moments when you won’t be thinking about them and smiling and laughing instead only to come home and fall apart because you feel guilty for feeling good. And sometimes, during the rare moments that become less rare over time, you will just smile at the memories and accept that even though you will never get over the fact that they are truly gone, this is your life now, and you shouldn’t stop living it.

#trc #trc fic #trc fanfic #trc fanfiction #the raven cycle #the raven cycle fic #the raven cycle fanfic #the raven cycle fanfiction #adam parrish #adam parrish centric #ronan lynch #gansey #blue sargent #noah czerny #found family #friendship centric #mine

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off-in-the-moors · 5 years ago

Text

TRC rewrite: Main characters

Why? Because The Raven Cycle is a mess. From the setting, through characters and to the plot, everything is a mess on a foundations of good ideas. It feels like Margaret took three to four different drafts, stitched them together and switched around events, e.g. things that should be in book 1 are in book 3, etc.

So, here is my attempted to rewrite the Gangsey.

Blue

curly, damaged, black hair kept short; brown eyes and light brown skin

short and stocky, with a big eyes; untamed, arched eyebrows; and round nose

1/4 black, 3/4 white (Maura is 1/2 black, and Artemus is welsh)

her father, Artemus, was a history professor, focusing on British Isle (especially Wales)

when she was 14, her father's ghost appeared on Saint Mark's Eve, he suddenly died few months, leaving Blue devastated

was very close with her dad, didn't forgive her mother for not trying to save Artemus

straightens and clips down her hair to make it resemble hers dad's

owns a pink switch blade, which was once red, she stole from her father's stuff, uses it mostly to cut plants

knows a lot about plants, helps cultivated and collect them for the family business

interested in and actively looks for paranormal (magic, cryptids, you name it), interest seeded by her parents

went to public school, but after middle school was pulled out for homeschooling

works two part-time jobs, as a waitress at Nino's and a dog-walker, to have her own money

a psychic but her power makes it impossible to work as one

makes and remakes her own clothes, isn't good at it but she loves it

loves knitting sweaters for her friends and family

wears colorful, often clashing outfits with a lots of accessories

loves color blue, always has something blue in her outfit, even if only as an accent color

vegetarian

knows Adam from middle school, keeps warm relations with him (introduced her to his friends)

spends her Sundays with her family (e.g. hitch-hiking with her mother, helping with Calla, making sweater and clothes with Persephone, painting nails with Orla)

know few phrases in Estonian, thanks to Persephone

opinioned, independent and bold

environmentalist

Gansey

tousled, always preciously styled, brown hair; dark brown eyes, light skin

average but quite square built (looks stiff), straight nose, shadows and bags under eyes, often has pieces of mint leaves stuck it teeth

the shortest guy of the Gangsey

born with a silver spoon in his mouth

at ten, almost died from wasp stinks but survived thanks to "Glendower", obsessed with finding him ever since

insomniac, his grands and health suffers from it

was in the rowing team, until he slept through training and hit team-mate with a oar

has the power to commend people, but it's weak

loves mint-flavor things, borders on obsession

owns five different types of mint plants (Ronan named them)

makes mistakes in his research and normal day to day actions from lack of sleep, needs help of others

his mom buys him clothes

doesn't understand the value of money, mostly throws it around and leads people with no need to return it

needs glasses but often losses them (even worse with contacts), in the beginning of the story he's on his seventh pair

doesn't have friends outside the "Gangsey"

awkward about feelings and crushes, can't deal with them

has slit ADHD, needs to do something with his hands

perfectionist, fixes mistakes of others, brushes problems off

good at social interactions but horrible at maintaining relationships

after his grands suffered too much and his search for Glendower effected his school life, his parents cut him off from finances as a punishment

with Adam's help, found a job as a cashier at a grocery store, actually loves it

needs time to remember people's names

Ronan

curly, dark brown (almost black) hair, always shaven; blue eyes, pale skin (burns easily)

tall (tallest of the Gangsey) and quite muscular, angular face, narrow eyes, multiple scars on arms and few on face (oddly proud of them)

he's a copy of his own father, Niall Lynch (looks like a younger version of him)

shaved his head and got tattoos, after he discovered he's a copy, to resemble Niall as little as possible

dresses in what his father would never wear

has only one real tattoo, a Celtic cross on the back of his neck base, the rest of his back is dreamt up

the dream tattoo always changes, reflecting Ronan's mental/emotional state, but always has motifs of wings/feathers and branches twisting into Celtic knots

tried to stop dreaming up stuff multiple times, but it caused him headache and nausea, eventually ending in physical harm, went the dream "gets out"

confused about who or what he is

self-destructive, has no regards for his own safety

has a very strain relationship with Declan, envies his "realness"

vegan, loves animals and hates people who harm them

loves speed and racing, oddly proud of his speeding-tickets

believes for a long time, only Kavinsky understands him, but their "friendship" is complicated

doesn't allow anyone to touch Chainsaw (dream creatures are very personal to a dreamer)

tries to figure out what HE likes, and find his OWN path (even if it means craving it out)

touched starved

loves nature, can spend hours outside just sitting and thinking

acts and speaks before thinking, got himself in trouble for that many times (gets physical quiet often)

helps in the family "dream trade" business, doesn't want any of his creations near him, Chainsaw is the only exception

feels drawn to Cabeswaters, but he preferably would just burn it

knows Irish, speaks it when frustrated

before Niall's death, trained tennis and played on bagpipes (uilleann pipes), but stopped after his father's murder hates boxing

Adam

short, self-cut, light red-ish brown hair; grey eyes, tan skin with a lot of moles and freckles

skinny, deep-set eyes and a downturned lips

has only a backpack of his own stuff and a bike

deals with Gansey's antics only for a chance to escape his father and his living situation

lives with Gansey, Ronan and Noah in Monmouth

prioritises his education over his friendship with "Gangsey"

very frugal, keeps a "change jar"

mostly wears his wash-out Coca-Cola t-shirt, he bought with his first pay

the most sceptical about magic, still very cautious of it

hates loud sounds and physical contact

hates taking money from people and having money spend on him, but he knows he needs it

has three part-time jobs, including his favourite at the garage

loves cars, dreams about buying his own one day

afraid of heights and flying, childhood trauma

opportunist

highly values his independence

never refuses food

sacrificed his "hands and eyes" to Cabeswater, not only to wake the Ley Lines but also to escape his former life for good, seeing it as the only way (partly tricked by the forest)

deaf on the left ear but hears Cabeswater whispering to him through it

actively "fights" with Cabeswater for control (his way or the high way)

owns a old Nokia phone, only bought it to stay in contact with Gansey knows how to sew and dress a wound

Noah

messy, pale blond hair; light blue eyes, pale skin with a dark spot on the left side of his face

faded and lean; small, lively eye; bright, wide smile

kept him pretty much the same, but also add

sarcastic with a dry (and sometimes dark) sense of humor

"I'm the oldest one, so you should listen to me sometimes."

his Aglionby uniform always looks crinkled and dirty

doesn't remember most of his "living life"

gets his memories back from seeing/visiting people/places he knew

his emotional state effects his corporal form, e.g. strong negative emoticons make him less visible

music helps him stay visible

still loves Blink-182 (Ronan pirated him all their albums, including those he missed)

misses skateboarding, swimming, spending time with his old friends and family, and filling the weather

doesn't remember his death, only the pain

likes to wander around Henrietta

likes anything glitter, reminds him of his sisters

gave Adam permission to take his old Mustang, "If you can bring it to live, Parrish."

his disappearance is still a talked subject in Aglionby

sometimes mumbles or swears something no one understand, took Gangsey time to figured out it was polish

+ Bonus

Chainsaw

Ronan's first dream creature (or at the time Ronan believes so)

quite small for a raven

senses Ronan's emotions, always tries to comfort him by burying into his neck or "grooming" him

can speak single works but they sound very corrupted, e.g. "kerah" is a corrupted version of "cara" (irish for "friend")

at the beginning called Ronan Greywaren, but with time it change to "creātor" (creator), "somniator" (dreamer) and finally "cara" (friend), reflecting Ronan's own view of himself

likes to collect and bring Ronan small things, e.g. pen caps, leaves or pieces of newspapers

gets close only to people Ronan likes and/or trusts

If you have any questions or opinions to share, please send me an ask.

Thank you, for your attention :)

#the raven cycle #TRC #anti raven cycle #anti trc #anti maggie stiefvater #trc rewrite #Richard Campbell Gansey III #blue sargent #adam parrish #ronan lynch #noah czerny

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emmerrr · 5 years ago

Note

Possible prompt if you’re interested could be Declan finally seeing one of the portraits Jordan does of him! Alternatively, jordeclan moving in together and creating a space where neither of them has to hide themself in an attic

i can’t resist a moving in fic and i’m sorry this took so long

It’s late afternoon when the final box is removed from the moving van, and just for a moment, the excitement is overshadowed by the overwhelming task of unpacking that lies ahead.

Boxes, boxes, everywhere. Declan closes the front door and follows a trail of them to the bedroom where he finds Jordan, curled up on top of the bed they’ve not long finished making. Her eyes are shut, her breathing even, but Declan isn’t fooled.

He crosses his arms and leans nonchalantly against the doorframe. “Faker.”

Jordan affects a snore which makes Declan laugh, and she opens an eye, that wicked grin that stole his heart spreading across her face. She pats the empty space beside her. “You know you want to.”

He really, really does. He kicks off his shoes and crawls up beside her, his feet instantly grateful for the reprieve. He groans happily, sinking his face into the softest pillow in the world. He feels Jordan press her face into his arm and turns his head, and for a moment they just watch each other.

“We have so much unpacking to do,” Declan finally says.

Jordan nods. “We do. Don’t worry, it’s not going anywhere.” She lifts Declan’s arm and tucks herself underneath, then kisses his collarbone.

He sighs, happily resigned to his fate. The house is still a mess of boxes, they need some more furniture, and the whole thing is still too new and alien for it to quite feel like home. But with Jordan in his arms, nodding off to sleep in the bed they now share in the place that’s just theirs, it’s the closest to home Declan’s ever felt.

“What do you think?”

“It’s hideous.”

“Isn’t it?” Jordan says dreamily. “Sit on it.”

Declan eyes the armchair dubiously. It’s some kind of paisley print in the most garish of colour schemes; bright pink and orange, smatterings of yellow and turquoise. “It won’t go with the rest of the living room furniture,” he tries.

“Your doubts are duly noted,” Jordan says sagely. “Sit.”

“...This feels like a trap.”

“Sit.”

Declan sits.

It’s the most comfortable chair he’s ever had the pleasure of sitting on, and he does everything he can not to let his face give that fact away. He shrugs. “It’s alright.”

Jordan grins the grin of the triumphant, and Declan knows they’re getting it.

He tries to imagine it in their space, and suddenly finds that he can. He can picture where it will go; at an angle, equidistant from the fireplace and the TV. He can picture them in the winter, him and Jordan cuddled up together, blanket tossed over them, snow falling outside, the light of the fire covering the whole room in a cozy glow.

He thinks he might be going soft, and he thinks that might be okay.

“I told you we’d find something in a thrift store,” Jordan says, her fingers twined through his as she leads him to the checkout counter.

He pulls her hand to his mouth, kisses it gently. “So you did.”

The furniture is pulled back from the walls and newspaper covers the floor as Jordan and Declan stand, paint rollers in hand, transforming their bedroom walls from a bland and safe off-white to a lovely deep forest-green.

Jordan’s phone is playing music through wireless speakers, a playlist that seems to jump from Rihanna to Metallica to Taylor Swift to Arcade Fire to some K-pop band Declan doesn’t know the name of, and so on, in no discernable pattern that he can follow.

“What playlist is this?”

Jordan smiles wryly. “It’s all songs that Hennessy hates.”

Declan thinks about that, and about all the canvases in the spare room that Jordan has set up as her art studio, original pieces that she started and then aborted.

“Is there still a part of you,” he says carefully, “that thinks everything you like, or create, or choose, is really just some facet of Hennessy’s personality and not truly your own?”

Jordan’s expression hardens, and he knows he’s hit a nerve. “That depends,” she says evenly. “Is there still a part of you that thinks this is doomed? You and me?”

It’s Declan’s turn for a wry smile. “Touché.”

Their love story is a unique one, and Declan can’t deny he’s had his moments of thinking that it’s all going to end in flames. But through it all he also knows that he’d still be here, even if they were heading towards their inevitable end. He wants this, for as long as he can have it.

It’s hard to stop constantly thinking about worst case scenarios, because it’s so ingrained in Declan to do just that. But Jordan quiets that part of his brain with a touch, or even a look. Just being in her presence is a balm to his heart and his mind.

They’re happy. And maybe they’ll be okay. Who’s to say?

“For the record,” he says at last, “I don’t think this is doomed.”

“No?”

He shakes his head. “No. And also, you are your own person, independent of Hennessy.”

“You think?”

“I know.”

Jordan puts down her roller, and cups Declan’s face, bringing it down to hers as she kisses him. She’s probably getting paint on his face, but he doesn’t care; not now, not ever.

“For what it’s worth, you are the best choice I ever made,” she says fiercely, her forehead pressed to his.

He kisses her again, soft. “It’s worth everything.”

“When are you going to put your paintings up?”

It’s a fair question. They’ve been here almost four months now, and everything from Declan’s attic in the D.C. house is still leaning up against the wall in Jordan’s art studio, covered over.

“There’s no attic here.”

“Ha, ha,” Jordan says sarcastically.

The truth is, he doesn’t know quite why he hasn’t gotten around to it. At first it was for practical reasons; they had painting and other repair work to do in several rooms, so it made sense to wait until that was all finished.

But it is finished now, and it has been for weeks, and other art pieces and photographs have gone up; some of it Jordan’s own work, some that she bought (or stole) once upon a time, some that they bought together. But nothing from his own collection, nothing that he had kept locked up for his eyes only until Jordan had shown up and gently prised the key from his hand.

His silence drags for so long that Jordan drops the sarcasm. She puts her hand on his chest. “This is our place. Yours and mine. You don’t have to hide here.”

Because he has been hiding away, for years, so much so that it’s habit more than anything that seemingly forbade him from doing anything that wasn’t cookie-cutter.

But Jordan sees him, she knows him; the real him behind the slick, designer veneer, and that’s the part she loves.

The part that wears fancy shoes.

“Come on, then,” he says, taking her hand. “You can help me decide where they should go.”

“I’m so glad you said that because actually I already have some ideas,” she says, and that's how they spend the afternoon.

They take Declan out of the attic, one piece at a time.

It’s quiet when Declan gets home. He takes his shoes off by the door and hangs his coat up, then makes his way through the house, peeking in each of the rooms in search of Jordan.

She’s not in the living room, where Declan’s favourite hideous armchair now lives. Matthew fell asleep in it on New Year’s Eve, and Ronan drew a monocle and handlebar moustache on his face. It had been a quiet one; they’d played games most of the evening, almost all of which were won by Adam, and at midnight Ronan and Hennessy had been in charge of the dream fireworks they set off outside.

The kitchen is also empty when Declan scans it, his eyes lingering on the slight chip in one of the floorboards from where Jordan had dropped the admittedly ridiculously heavy cast-iron skillet when they were unpacking. He remembers accidentally flipping a pancake right out of the pan and onto the burner. He remembers burnt toast and spilt coffee and broken crockery, and various other messes, but most of all he remembers the laughter that went along with all of it. The dancing in the kitchen at 2am, the doing the dishes in companionable silence, the domesticity in helping each other prepare a meal.

These are the things Declan now thinks about when he thinks about the concept of home. Maybe it’s a place where the good memories you make outweigh the ones that hurt. Maybe home is what you make of it, the stamp you put on it to make it your own. Maybe home is a person.

Maybe it’s a combination of all of those things.

Declan finds Jordan, inevitably, in her studio. She has headphones on which explains the quiet, and she’s working on a painting, the canvas almost as tall as she is. There’s no reference that Declan can see, and it’s not a copy. She’s painting just for the sake of it, a complete original.

He moves carefully around until he’s in Jordan’s eyeline, and the laser focus in her eyes shifts to a smile of delight when she spots him. There’s paint splattered on her overalls, specks of it on her face and in her hair, but she never looks more radiant than when she looks at Declan like this.

“You’re home!” she exclaims, pulling her headphones down.

“I am,” he agrees, warmth settling in his chest.

“I’d kiss you but I’m all painty.”

“I don’t care,” Declan says, and he closes the gap between them, sweeping her up into his arms as he kisses her, swallowing up her delighted little “oh!”

“You’re in a good mood,” she says with a laugh when he puts her down.

“Just happy to be home.” It’s so strange to finally be able to say that, and to really mean it. He’s home with Jordan, where he belongs. “You about ready to take a break? I was going to make coffee.”

“I’ll be out in a minute. Make me a latte?”

Declan smiles. “For you? Anything.”

#cdth #jordeclan #dreamertrilogy #tumblr prompts #trc

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eury--dice · 5 years ago

Text

history, huh?

chapter 2: prope

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

Blue’s gum popped loudly on the other line. Adam couldn’t remember the last time he saw her chew gum, but somehow it seemed fitting that she picked up the habit then, with him overseas. “Any weird paintings?”

“I’m legally obligated not to tell you,” Adam replied, flicking his eyes over a textbook. He scanned his eyes over a page, but the fonts and colors all blurred together, creating a grey and red mass of string in front of him instead of a helpful breakdown of France’s pre-revolution economy. His phone, propped up on a tiny potted fern, revealed Blue Sargent in all of her early-evening glory. He wondered what the tabloids might think of her like this: her thick and short black hair held back by clashing vibrant hair clips, dressed in one of Gansey’s old Aglionby sweaters she converted into a halter top, felt-tip pen ink somehow smudged on her cheek. There was something wonderfully grounding about her familiar chaos.

“Contracts are a suggestion and nothing more.”

“Don’t let your mother hear that. She’ll have us both thrown in jail.” Ronan’s words from earlier popped into his head, but he had the luxury of ignoring them with the prince out of sight, and so he did.

“C’mon, Adam, you know she’s a softie. You’re in Kensington Palace. You have to tell me something exciting.”

Adam scrounged for something to tell her. He glanced around his room again, still caught off-guard by how much it felt like a castle. Admittedly, he didn’t have a great reference for what castles were supposed to feel like; the only other castle he had been in was the Bishop Palace on a tour with his mother at age eight. His hair raised on end at random moments here the same way it did then, the draftiness leaving him feeling exposed and vulnerable. He couldn't quite shake the idea that someone was watching him, caught between air molecules and screaming for someone to hear them. The White House sometimes gave him the same feeling. Realistically, he knew people passed over every spot on the earth and nothing made the walls of the White House or Kensington Palace any different in that regard. But the history in them intimidated him. The presence of greats, from founding fathers to celebrity politicians to monarchs, was a guarantee rather than a possibility. He couldn’t help but feel watched by them, feel their expectations and disappointment thick in the air.

Living there all the time as Ronan did must be lonely, surrounded only by ghosts.

He pushed his feet against the floor, leaning back in his chair so that it balanced on two legs. His leg swung back and forth to dully hit the wooden underside of the seat while the other braced him. Adam didn’t quite want to tell Blue any of that. He knew she would understand, both because she was Blue and because her family was a big believer in the supernatural and psychic. But he didn’t know how to say it without a long-winded rant. “There’s a coat of armor outside my room,” he admitted in a low tone. “I’ve been waiting for it to twitch its finger and beckon me closer.”

“I’m sure if you ask nicely it will let you pursue your weird metal fantasies.”

“Oh, fuck you,” Adam said without heat, finally flipping the textbook shut. “No kink-shaming over the phone.”

“I watched the Wizard of Oz with you at age eight, Adam. You can’t hide your reaction to the Tin Man from me.”

Adam rubbed his eyes. “I need ice cream to deal with this bullying,” he announced, standing from the borrowed desk and snatching his phone up.

“Aw, at least I know that the English haven’t been able to suck all the life out of you if you’re complaining and want ice cream.”

“They haven’t managed it yet, but we’re only one photo op in.”

“Well, if the excess of British does manage to sideline you, let me know. I know Gansey will want the heads-up for the tabloids.”

“As long as you don’t feed them headlines again, I’d be happy to.” Adam rounded the corner into the spacious kitchen reserved for guests of the Crown. He’d roll his eyes at the needless expense if the White House didn’t provide the exact same accommodations.

“I’m telling you again, I know nothing of the allegation.”

Adam gave her a flat look. “Who else would pen ‘First Son Denies Fur Son Residence in the Residence?’ Besides the obvious reason for it being bad, it was clearly you.”

Blue blew a strand of hair out of her eyes. “Sometimes I hate your intimate knowledge of my love of wordplay.”

“And I yours of the diplomatic taxidermy gifts I receive.”

“I’m sure the Minister of Foreign Affairs’ son meant well, he was just...creepy.”

Adam sighed, opening the freezer with one hand to reveal a box of pre-packaged ice cream cones. “They always mean well.”

He pulled the box from the freezer and shut the door, turning on his heel to face the counter. But he stopped short when he noticed it was no longer just him and Blue alone in the kitchen.

Prince Ronan stood in the entryway to the kitchen, disarmed in the half-light with his flannel pajama pants and black t-shirt combination. Over-the-ear headphones sat on his head, but he pushed them down to loop around his neck. The music was so loud it bled into the air, carrying the harsh sound of drums until they reached Ronan across the kitchen. On his screen, Blue studied Adam and his sudden pause, and the voice of Gansey carried over from somewhere far away - “I’ve got a new article,” it sounded like, though Adam could barely hear anything.

“Call you back,” he said quietly, disconnecting from the call. Ronan looked almost apologetic when Adam looked back up towards him.

“I thought you’d be asleep,” he confessed. “Goody-two-shoes like you.”

Adam wanted to take offense to it, but something stopped him. “I could say the same for you.”

“Yes, well, insomnia calls.”

“Doesn’t it always?” The two shared a tight smile.

“I was out,” Ronan explained, gesturing to the box in Adam’s hand. “Knew there’d be a stock here. I’m...sorry.” The word sounded bitter and foreign on his tongue.

“It’s fine,” Adam said. “Midnight snacks are to be taken seriously or not at all.” He slid the box across the counter, suddenly very aware of his threadbare, faded crimson coca-cola tee shirt and GU sweatpants. He couldn’t stop feeling the slide of them against his skin.

Ronan clutched the box once it reached him, looking to Adam with something close to surprise. Still, he opened the box and selected an ice cream.

While he was distracted, Adam snapped a picture, the flash bright in the dim kitchen.

The stare leveled at him by Ronan should’ve been enough to pin any self-preserving person in place, but Adam rarely did what was best for him personally. “What the fuck is that for?”

“Two social media posts a day,” Adam replied, speeding through the filtering process and tapping to the captioning. “It’s part of the contract.”

“Of course it would be,” Ronan mutters with great disdain. “Fucking social media addicted hounds.”

“Not a fan of technology?”

“Oh, sure, other than the fact that it’s a blight consuming the world by slaughtering brain cells and slowly giving us radiation poisoning.”

“You could’ve just said ‘yes.’”

“Ah, but where’s the fun in that?”

Adam smiled brightly. “Not giving me a headache from all of the pomposity?”

“Exactly. No fun.” When Adam continued to stare blankly at his screen, Ronan rolled his eyes. “Does it take you this long to caption everything you do? If so, I understand why so little governing takes place.”

“Because the monarchy is oh-so-powerful,” Adam replied, but then decided to cut them off before it could turn into a full-blown fight. “It always takes me a minute to think of something good.”

Ronan grabbed the phone from his hands. “You’re overthinking it,” he dismissed, making a few decisive taps before handing the phone back to Adam, photo captioned but not yet posted. insomnia ice cream ft. @PrinceRonan.

“Thought you hated technology?”

“Hate and lack of proficiency are two different things.” “...Of course,” Adam said, clicking post on the photo. Ronan turned and walked toward the door, the song on his headphones audibly changing. Not one for goodbyes, then. The feeling he had in his room was back then, the idea that ghosts clung to the air around him and stole oxygen with their demands. Although Ronan had not yet left, Adam already felt as though he were lonely. Lonely, but not alone, still technically with Ronan and all of the ghosts thickening the air.

Adam, in a fluid movement he didn’t really plan, dumped half of the ice creams on the counter and held out the box across the marble countertop as though bridging some wide ocean. The coolness of the marble inched closer to the skin of his forearm where it hovered a few inches in the air.

“You can take these if you’d like.”

Ronan froze, his back straightened and still before he turned ninety degrees back to look at Adam. “Pardon?”

“The ice cream cones. It’s probably better you do, honestly. I just eat them when I’m bored. Calories I don’t really need.”

Ronan’s startlingly blue eyes studied him for a moment, roaming every line of Adam’s face as though searching for some trickery and then jumping to the box in Adam’s outstretched hand. “Thank you,” he said at last in an undertone, accepting the offered box. And, leaving Adam with some hint of a smile, Prince Ronan was gone, Adam all by himself and the faint memory of intense guitar music leaking from expensive headphones still lingering in the air.

Once they landed firmly in PR territory, Adam felt a bit steadier on his feet.

PR he knew like the back of his hand, armed with years of experience from campaigns and political terms. It was not innate for him like for Gansey, but like everything else in his life, Adam was a star pupil and quick to pick it up thoroughly. He studied diligently, examining the facial expressions of everyone around him, examining each furrow of brow and twitch of lips and bellow of a laugh, practicing and perfecting on his own to ensure that he blended in seamlessly and, when necessary, stood out brilliantly. America’s First Son, valedictorian-intelligent and attractive enough to stop hearts for a moment upon seeing him. By the time he sat on ITV This Morning next to his enemy, he certainly knew all the tips and tricks and expertise ensuring a successful interview, and luckily Ronan seemed to know his way around a talk show as well. His thoroughly British host seemed appropriately charmed by their dynamic, a golden-child American and England’s simultaneously proper and wild Royal.

Adam excelled at PR not because he was natural but because he was over-prepared, and so he was comfortable with the rhythm he and Ronan fell into - referencing each other’s favorites, cracking dry, sarcastic jokes about ice cream, fist-bumping and throwing arms around each other’s shoulders for effect when needed.

He counted it as a win that his resentment never made it into his words or his actions. Instead, he distracted himself with what they were doing, savoring the news alerts of their “clearly natural” friendship and the thumbs-up and “!!!” texts from Gansey and Blue whenever something exciting reached the press. He ignored Ronan for the most part, and Ronan mostly ignored him. He clenched his teeth and smiled at how rough-and-tumble Ronan looked under stage lighting, as wickedly handsome as a poisoned and sharpened dagger, unfairly attractive even with his head closely shaved.

Then the time for their second photo op rolled around, sometime after Adam posted an empty-feeling snapshot of Ronan on a deserted London sidewalk with the caption love a nice mid-afternoon walk, and his mood plummeted sharply.

As well as people and hospitals generally went together, Adam did not have a particularly terrible relationship with any hospitals, especially the Royal Marsden NHS Foundation Trust. He did not enjoy them, sure, but who did? And his discomfort may have gone below the surface-level “death and sickness occur here” jitteriness most people felt, but the majority of the unease coiling in his stomach came from the utterly staged feeling to everything. The First Son and Prince came bearing gifts of books, but they probably did more harm than good for all of the children by displacing all the medical professionals and disrupting their steady routines with full camera crews.

It felt hypocritical, and Adam definitely didn’t want to be shoving cameras in the faces of cancer patient children, but the decisions weren’t up to him, and so he slipped back into PR mode. He shook the hands of nurses and posed faux-candidly for cameras. The only real things he did were with the kids - once they knew who he was, they asked for stories of celebrities and monuments, and although Adam was no fantastic storyteller, he did his best to answer every question and then some. He read to them, too, from the new and donated books, even when the cameras left in search of Ronan. Anger was hard to hold onto when he looked into their faces and resolved to cheer them up.

He read until his voice began to grind at itself, tucked next to kids on narrow hospital cots. They were all ages, and all perfectly suited to throw Adam back into memories he didn’t want to relive. Looking at the books, with the gaudily-colored pictures and ridiculous rhymes, was easier than looking at the children. They all looked to him with similar looks painted across their faces and twinkling in their eyes, one that made Adam’s heart twist, because he knew that he’d worn that expression so often as a child when he thought someone could help him or save him. They looked at him like he was hope itself, some savior come to grant them a wish and a recovery. He didn’t want to disappoint them.

The visit of the First Son and Prince of England must have cut into naptime because at some point Adam looked up from the book to realize that the camera crews had retreated and all the patients in his ward had dozed off. He slowly unfurled himself, gangly limbs and all, to stand without disturbing the child who rested so fitfully on the hospital cot. His steps were soft and random against the tile, mostly just a blind search to try and find Ronan. It wasn’t long before he heard Ronan’s voice stretching over space from the next room over. Adam slowed, hoping to stay just out of sight while still observing Ronan.

The Prince perched on the edge of a narrow hospital bed, reminding Adam ridiculously of a bird poised to take flight. Since there were no cameras near him, his posture was slightly relaxed like it had been in the kitchen the night previously. A little girl clung tightly to his hand while he gestured wildly with his other, her eyes wide and hanging onto his every word. Ronan’s voice was somehow hushed and grand at the same time, his posh accent dulled to something a little more rural.

“When three hundred years had come and gone, the four swans traveled South to the sea of Moyle, braving the turbulent tides that wanted to draw them under.” He leaned closer to her and tugged lightly on her free hand with his free hand, perhaps to echo the water he mentioned in the story, and she gripped it tightly, nearing laughter with every second. “They swam past the cold and stormy seas, their feathers ruffled but unharmed when they reached Inis Glora. The swans had grown tired over their long journey, the years of their lives catching up to slow them down.”

Adam, without thinking, felt a bit of a smile take over his face. He was taken aback by the change in Ronan. The boy sitting on the bed seemed lightyears away from any other version - he’d gone a little hazy at the edges, as though he were made of smoke, as though Adam was dreaming and viewing some kind of apparition. His tailored lines still stuck out jaggedly, cutting a harsh figure, but he seemed at ease and gentle for the first time Adam had ever seen. One hell of a storyteller, too. Adam wasn’t sure he wanted to know why, as the Prince of England, Ronan could let all of those Irish words roll off of his tongue as though they came naturally.

An Irish children’s tale. An Irish children’s tale. Why would he know any of those? The answer nagged at Adam’s brain, but he couldn’t find it in himself to dig.

The girl was quiet as Ronan’s voice trailed off until it became nothing. The swans had returned to elderly humans and lived with a priest who blessed them for the rest of their days, and Adam assumed that she was processing the anticlimactic ending. Finally, she said, “I like those endings best.”

“You do?” Ronan asked, patience yielding in his tone. “Why do you like them?”

“Sad endings are too sad, but happy endings aren’t real.”

Adam could only see the back of Ronan’s head, but he could hear him clear his throat and see him squeeze the girl’s hand in his much larger one. “Me, too.” He leaned away from her a little, letting go of one of her hands. When he spoke again, a smile was in his voice. “You’re much wiser than the adults I know. I might have to offer you a position advising me.”

The girl laughed again, a giddy and wild and hopeful thing. “You’re very silly,” she informed Ronan, likely too young to realize any breaches in etiquette. Luckily for her, Ronan didn’t care, either.

“I am very serious,” he said, his face no doubt translating that sentiment very well. He squeezed her hand again. “I’ll be back with an offer in fifteen or so years, don’t you worry.”

“Is that a promise?”

Ronan stilled at once, the muscles in his back set just as they had been in the kitchen. Adam didn’t envy the situation she’d inadvertently put Ronan into. As childish and silly as her question was, there was a little too much weight to the response for him to casually offer a yes or a no.

“Do your best to get better,” he said at length, “and I’ll see what I can do.”

And, oh, that expression of hope was back shining on her face, and Adam had to shuffle to his other foot, looking away. The people were the reason he liked politics, liked the idea of trying to help build a world even a fraction better than the one he was raised in, and yet he couldn’t look. Couldn’t bear the thought of letting anyone down.

Ronan glanced behind him, clearly catching sight of Adam, just as a nurse bustled into the room and cheerfully announced that it was time for medicine.

“Thank you,” the little girl said before releasing his hand.

“It was a pleasure meeting you, Ella,” Ronan said with a stiff formality that made her giggle again. “And of course,” he added, a little more softly.

It was perhaps not a polite enough exit for a prince, but after Ronan clumsily thanked the nurse and stepped back into the ward to meet Adam, he knew it was the best they would get. Ronan continued moving past him in the direction Adam assumed the cameras must have gone.

“Ah, so you do have feelings other than anger,” Adam said, trailing Ronan into the hall.

“Don’t act so fu... completely surprised,” Ronan replied, turning his head towards Adam. At first, he thought Ronan might have been uncomfortable with the idea of Adam seeing the interaction, but instead, his face started to squeeze into something close to a smile, his eyes crinkling and the corners of his mouth lifting. A pop from down the hallway shuttered the expression before it could become fully formed. A shout cut through the air just as Persephone appeared between Ronan and Adam as though materializing from thin air. Her impossibly long, white hair clung to the sleeves of their sweaters with static friction as she shoved them with surprising strength into a closet.

Her voice was still serene and airy despite the sudden tension settling on everyone’s chests. “Wait for the all-clear.” And the door shut with a thunk behind her.

Adam leaned his head against it with a sigh, before very rapidly remembering that they were two high-profile targets in a possible active shooter scenario and doors weren’t exactly safe. He scrambled backward, accidentally knocking into Ronan and sending them tumbling into the wall. Of all the closets to be unceremoniously shoved into, they had to be stuck in one barely large enough for the brooms stacked to his right.

“Can you stop falling into me, please?” came Ronan’s voice, taut with something close to fury but probably closer to anxiety.

“But you love it so much,” Adam bit out, trying to backtrack. Ronan’s face had somehow ended up in Adam’s hair, and he could feel Ronan’s long lashes close, paired with a troubled exhale. Adam managed to extract himself from Ronan and slide against one of the walls, crouching beside something he suspected was a bucket. Ronan followed his example, leaning against the opposite wall until he slid to the ground. Adam couldn’t see Ronan very well, but judging from the faint rustling sounds of buzzed hair against cotton and quick, deep breaths, he wasn’t handling the situation very well.

“This is a new one,” Adam said. “Assassination attempts, I mean. Is this common for the royalty?”

“Shut up,” Ronan said, his voice faint from his position closer to the ground.

“I’m blaming you if we die, you know.” When he received no response, Adam continued. “I probably could have made it at least a couple more years. No one’s ever tried to shoot me before. Guess I’m not important enough on my own. Who knew our fake friendship could be so deadly?”

“Fuck off,” Ronan replied, his breaths still deep.

“I’d love to, mate,” Adam said, forcing faux-jolly British inflection into the last word, “But we’re stuck in this closet for the foreseeable future, or until we get shot.”

“I meant shut up before that happens.”

“What, you’re not keen on life-threatening scenarios?” Ronan didn’t respond, and Adam felt a bit of genuine concern leak into his other thoughts. “Are you doing alright? I thought you of all people would be used to this.”

“Not keen on tight spaces,” he grit out, his teeth likely bared in that dangerous way that made Adam’s hands curl into fists. “Now fucking stop for a minute.”

They sat in silence, nothing but their breaths filling the space between them. The silence must have started to grate on Ronan because he broke it first.

“It doesn’t happen all the time, you know.”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, I’m telling you.” Ronan breathed something that sounded like dumbass. “Once, when I was small and out in public with my father. Declan was there, too. I can’t remember much of it. That’s the only other time.”

“Suppose it’s as good a story as any,” Adam said, his voice just a hint louder than Ronan’s whisper had been. “Glad I can hear it trapped in this minuscule closet with you.”

“You’re the one with the foot digging into my hip, not the other way around.”

“Where the hell am I supposed to put it, Your Highness?” He nudged his foot and Ronan surged forward, clamping a hand around Adam’s mouth and the other clenching in Adam’s collar, practically hovering above where Adam stretched out uncomfortably. Adam much preferred this almost-fighting to their pretending to be friends.

“Shut the fuck up. I don’t want to die today.” Adam tried shifting to free himself, but Ronan had a firm grip and he couldn’t gain any ground. Instead, he licked Ronan’s palm, and Ronan was quick to drop his hand in disgust with a quiet noise of discontent. He found himself pinned with one of Ronan’s glares, the intensity tangible even in the dark.

“I don’t want you to die either, you sodding idiot. I’m not the only one in here. You talking is ruining both of us.” “Clearly you’re not, this might actually be comfortable without you and your ridiculous, showy muscles. But I didn’t realize you cared, sugar,” he said, thinking fleetingly of his mother, “if I was breathing or not.”

“Right now, your life is tied very closely to mine, and so I do.”

“Sweet as honey,” Adam taunted, thickening his drawl. Most of the time he tried to school his words into something a little more Northern, but he enjoyed the way the southern accent bothered Ronan.

“No peace, none at all,” Ronan muttered. “Not even in the looming face of death.”

Adam could have said the same, really. The last thing he expected to see from Ronan while shoved into a dark closet with him was any genuine emotion. But the stories, the fear in the enclosed space, the story of his father-

His father. Of course.

“Was that story from your father?” He asked, although he already was sure of the answer.

Ronan’s response clipped. “Yes.”

His conscience was still mostly intact, and so Adam began to feel a little bad for picking a fight while in a stressful situation and then bringing up Ronan’s grief. “You’re a good storyteller.” Ronan’s silence was judgemental and disbelieving, so he persisted. “What, I can’t give a compliment? You are.”

“My siblings and I had stories read to us like everyone else, Parrish. We’re not programmed, bland colonialism robots.” A pause. “Well, Mathew and I aren’t.”

“Of course not, imperialism comes first.”

“You’re welcome for the country, then.”

A brief silence followed. It felt, inexplicably, like the two of them had been toeing a line ever since Adam stood outside of Ella’s door and heard Ronan speak to her. They were inching closer with every word spoken.

“My father was the real storyteller,” he admitted, and Adam internally marked another inch traveled. “Since he was an actor and all. He always told us those stories even though he wasn’t technically supposed to. I just...imitate.”

“Imitate?”

“Yes,” Ronan said, providing no other explanation. “Why do you give a damn, anyway? You don’t want childhood tales and neither do I. You hate me.”

“We’re stuck like this forever,” Adam admitted. He’d known it before, but speaking the words made them feel more real. “Neither of us likes it, but here we are, shoved in a closet together. We have to pull off this act for the rest of our lives, Ronan, and I need something more than a cheat sheet your PR team slapped together.”

Ronan was eerily still for a long moment before he finally spoke. “Then why do you hate me?”

The question caught Adam off guard. “What?”

“Why do you hate me?” Off of Adam’s wary look, he threw the words back in his face. “We’re stuck together just like you said. I need some kind of answer.”

Adam sighed, acquiescing. “Do you remember what you said in Rio?”

“The fuck are you talking about, Parrish?”

“The Olympics?”

“When you threatened to push me into the River Thames?”

“No. You being a condescending dick at diving finals.”

Ronan was still for a long moment before bringing a hand to his shoulder and easing himself back away and off of Adam. “Oh. Shit.”

“So. You remember?”

“Vaguely.” A pause, elongated in the dark. “You heard?”

“Yes.”

“So that did it, then?”

“Yes.”

But Ronan must have known he had more to say because he stayed silent.

“I probably would have hated you no matter what,” Adam finally admitted, some low part of his gut feeling heavier with the admission. “It’s just - I wasn’t even the First Son then, and everyone was already comparing us. And it didn’t matter if they thought I was better or you were better or whatever, it was just - the idea of you bothered me, a white boy born with the power to make such change and unquestioning support from millions who was throwing it all away instead. And I’ve been compared to a shit ton of people in my life, from my mother to Blue and Gansey to just - everyone, but somehow with you, it was always the worst. So yes, it was the diving finals.”

“But it was also you being self-conscious?”

“But it was also you being an asshole.”

“Yeah, it was,” Ronan admitted lowly, and Adam blinked at the admission. “I was - I definitely was one. I think I was one all the fucking time back then. It doesn’t excuse anything, but my father passed on...not long before, if you can understand.”

Adam didn’t understand, couldn’t understand, but he nodded all the same. He felt something in his throat tighten. “Of course. I don’t think I’d realized.”

“It doesn’t excuse it,” Ronan repeated. “I’m sorry.”

This was something heavier, truer than his other apologies - something beyond deeply-ingrained politeness that allowed him to apologize for petty things. It was as though he genuinely asked for forgiveness, like Adam had any real choice in the matter, like Adam’s forgiveness was something Ronan actually wanted. Adam never expected to receive a genuine apology from the Prince of England.

“I appreciate it. And I’m sorry as well. For...not realizing.” Ronan’s figure visibly relaxed even though it was barely visible.

“So, depressing Irish stories. Is that your default?”

“I’m afraid the Irish don’t have a lot of serotonin-filled stories.”

“There’s the English in you,” Adam said to a breathy laugh from Ronan. “Do you remember any more?”

“Probably couldn’t forget them, if we’re being honest. And not speaking to the press.”

“They hate me at the moment, so you have nothing to worry about.” He paused before he continued. “Would you tell one?”

“...why?”

“I don’t know. We’re stuck in here, aren’t we?”

“Be careful what you wish for. I’ll write you in as a Celtic witch.”

“I always thought I’d make a very dashing villainous magician. If that’s the price to pay, I can live with it.”

Ronan was silent, and Adam thought that he had given up on any conversation. However, he spoke again, his voice oddly light. “Once, the fierce Fianna believed in many things, none as much as the beautiful Eden laying in the Western Sea. Tir na nÒg, it was called, and the name passed between them like a secret.” Suddenly breaking character, Ronan said in his normal whisper, “That means “land of the living” for any uneducated parties.”

“Dick. Go on.”

There was something captivating in this new way Ronan spoke paired with the near-darkness and tight space of their closet. “Fionn, the leader of the Fianna-”

“Great naming process, by the way.”

“Shut the hell up or no story.”

Adam shut up.

“The leader of the Fianna led them to hunt the deer along the shores in County Kerry, including his son, Oisín. But Oisín soon caught sight of a single, bright light in the distance, all the way through the thick green of tree foliage. As it drew closer, he saw that the light was, instead, a beautiful girl with hair of spun gold astride a snow-colored mare. When Fionn inquired as to who she was, she informed them that she was Niamh of the Golden Hair, daughter of the King of Tir na nÒg, and she had come to take Oisín as her husband-”

Ronan cut off abruptly, and Adam almost asked why, but a moment later he heard the source of the silence - heavy footsteps outside the door. Suddenly, neither of them breathed, instead choosing to sit in total petrified silence.

And slowly, mercifully, the door crept open, spilling cold white light along the floor of the cupboard and across their splayed legs. Persephone stood in the doorway, her expression relaxed once again.

“False alarm,” she said breezily, reaching out her hands to haul them back to their feet. Adam shifted uncomfortably on pins and needles as his legs shot back to life. “Fireworks, not guns.”

“Fireworks in a hospital?”

Persephone shrugged. “It was some teenager.”

“Always is,” Ronan said, dangerously close to a joke. He blinked rapidly, setting his shoulders back to stand at his full height. He slanted a look towards Adam, his mouth curving into something wicked but not intimidating, all bark and no bite. “Bonding is over, then.”

“Thank God.”

17 notes · View notes

spiltscribbles · 5 years ago

Note

Can I request 7, 9 or 78 for pynch? I liked all of those, haha -- uncertainglobalfuture

~Notes: Thank you SO SO much gorgeous<3 This came out way to soft lmfao. |

A Reblog is worth a thousand stars<3 | Buy Me A Coffee?

~78. “Just please be my best friend right now, and not the person I confessed my love to~

When Adam’s seven years old his first grade teacher asks him why he never has a lunch. He tells her he forgets to get up early enough to make it. Three weeks after that she asks him where he got that nasty bruise on his left arm. He tells her he had wiped out on his bicycle. Two months after that she keeps him inside for recess and asks him to join her and Principle Jenkins for a little while. Adam didn’t mind, he never could make a friend as easily as the others— too distant and too reserved and too withdrawn for the lot of them. But then they start asking about Adam’s home life and parents and whether he needs help or not, all rinsing hands topped off by tense smiles that don’t touch their eyes.

Adam stays aloof— doesn’t bother to panic. He’s been trained by his mother for countless years on how to reply to these sort of probing questions. Has long mastered the owlish blink to his eyes, and diffident smile to his lips. Knows exactly what to do so that they could pretend that there’s nothing out of the ordinary. He knows full and well that none of them actually want to tackle this conversation, and knows that it’s pointless because he’s a Parrish, this is all there is.

This’s all there ever will be.

He doesn’t tell either of his parents about the meeting, is too afraid of their reactions. Besides he doesn’t see much of a point when only a week later they’re packing up and leaving this small town in the dust just to settle in another with the same pasted grins and eyes that slide off from truths that are too ugly to confront.

On Adam’s first day of classes in Henrietta elementary he comes to the conclusion that not everything is stuck being the exact same when a boy with cornflower eyes and dark curls pads up to him and tells him that he’s Adam’s assigned buddy.

“What’s a buddy?” Adam asks, pinning him with a one eyed squint, totally incredulous.

“’S someone who shows you round the classroom and playground.” the other boy answers with an imperious tilt to his head. “Duh.”

“I Don’t need a buddy,” Adam glares at him. He doesn’t yell because Robert yells and Adam hates it when he yells.

“Who peed in your cereal?” The other boy, Ronan Lynch, asks sourly, indignant hands on his hips.

“I don’t need a buddy,” Adam only reiterates, spindly arms wrapped tight against his chest, his jaw set and stance rigid.

“Fine!” Ronan huffs with an emphatic stomping to his foot for good measure. “Hope you get lost with all the big kids then!”

“Fine!”

Later that afternoon, during free time, a blonde boy Adam doesn’t even recognize gleefully shoves his gross ball of slime into Adam’s face with an emphatic gusto. Adam only escapes the situation when Ronan storms over towards them to interrupt.

“Get lost Tad.”

“Can’t hog the new kid Ronan!”

“Uh-huh! Mis Sanchez made me his buddy.”

“Oh,” Tad only pouts, totally put out, before ambling off with his aforementioned ball of slime.

“Uh, ah thank you.” Adam says, wide eyed as he stares at a still moody looking Ronan.

“Wasn’t to help you! Me and Noah need someone to play trains with us, now c’mon.”

He pivots around, marching towards the back of the room, and Adam is only sorta shocked that he actually follows suit.

Adam isn’t sure how, but impossibly— remarkably— Ronan Lynch never quite leaves his orbit for the rest of that year, or any of the ones that follow.

He isn’t sure if they’re friends, has never had a friend before, which might be sorta embarrassing considering he’s in the fourth grade now. But in Adam’s defense no one else really caught his attention, certainly not keeping it for as long as Ronan has somehow done.

If Adam’s forced to think about it, he thinks that they are.

They sit besides each other for class every day, and Adam isn’t even annoyed when Ronan pulls funny faces his way instead of listening along. Yesterday for kickball Ronan chose Adam first, even before Gansey or Noah, and Adam has only ever liked adventuring outdoors with Ronan, even if it meant scraped knees and dirt on his pants that he shakes off the best he could before going back home to the trailer park.

But even still, it couldn’t hurt to ask him, right? It’s a simple question that calls for a simple answer. It’s just to double check that Adam’s not just some leach grabbing for anything he can.

Robert hates it when Adam asks questions, tries teaching him to stop being so god damn nosey about everyone’s business. Adam’s never seen it like that. Question yield answers, and answers usually make someone smarter, so without questions the world would just be stumbling around, utterly ignorant to everything. He much prefers how his first grade teacher had called him inquisitive, it makes Adam feel smart, proper, like he isn’t just annoying everyone, more like there’s a purpose to it.

That said, Adam knows that he’s inquisitive as all get out, so he doesn’t even think twice before asking Ronan point blank the following day at recess if they’re friends or not.

Ronan scrunches his nose at him, lips curled morosely.

“Stop being a weirdo and come play four square with us.”

Adam reasons that’s as much of an affirmation as he’s gonna get, and decides to only shrug before following him to play along.

The first time Adam goes to Ronan’s house for a school project, it’s a sunny autumn afternoon, and they’re fresh faced sixth graders. It’s the last year before embarking on the looming threat of junior high— A practice trial of sloppy make out parties and getting buzzed off cheap wine coolers swiped from someone’s parent’s licker cabinet— Gansey’s determined to make it the best year yet, and of course Ronan enthusiastically agrees because he and Gansey are really brothers in all but blood, so of course he’s going to entertain all of Gansey’s grandest of whims. And Noah always loves a good tie.

Adam still thinks it’s miraculous that they’ve adopted him into their little, mismatched brotherhood. That just as often Gansey looks at Ronan for a joke, he glances to Adam to ask a question with a furrow between his brows. And Noah says that Adam’s the only one who could keep up with him on a skateboard, even if his is a pathetic hunk of plastic he had bought for a quarter at a nearby thrift shop. And Ronan—

Well Ronan’s a different beast entirely.

He’s loud and abrasive and yells when he’s feeling to passionately and curses like a sailor even before they’ve hit teen hood. On paper he’s the precise sort of boy Adam never wanted to entangle himself with, the sort of boy that might’ve scared him in another universe. In a universe that Ronan wasn’t his assigned buddy on that fateful day, and a universe where Adam didn’t see how he doted on his brother a year behind them in school, and how he always fed the birds outdoors with bread from his lunch, and how he sometimes looks at Adam with such caution and care that it makes him blush.

No, Adam hates the thought of that world, and he refuses to think on it for any longer.

“C’mon ’s just a bit further of a walk,” Ronan tells Adam with a slight tug on where he’s got a hand encircled around Adam’s smaller wrist.

The first thing Adam thinks of when he finally sees the mythic Barns is that it’s a castle from a storybook.

It’s all sprawling fields filled with daisies and a large, but cozy looking house that’s got the backdrop of such blue, blue skies behind it. There are even vines that snake up its entrance, a rosebuds that accent the doorway.

The inside is much of the same, a managed mess with coats slung on the sofa and family portraits hanging on the walls, and the scent of fresh baked cookies wafting in the air.

It’s a home, loving and lived in and ringing out with warmth.

There’s a pang to Adam’s heart. He’s never felt the chasms that divide his and Ronan’s lives so acutely.

“Love,” a low, melodic voice crows from what must be the kitchen. He recognizes it to belonging to Ronan’s mother, the golden and beautiful Aurora.”Is that you?”

“Yeah Ma!” Ronan shouts back, crass as ever and making it so Adam winces back. “Adam’s here too, we’ve got a biology project to do.”

“Oh how splendid,” Aurora says with genuine mirth as she steps into the living room, splattered in flower and glowing with pure delight.

“Sorry for the intrusion ma’am,” Adam mumbles even though his own mother cuffs him on the back the head every time he does so.

“Nonsense,” she admonishes with no real heat, just fond exasperation. “Now Adam darling, how does quesadillas sound for dinner?”

Adam pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, feeling his cheeks flush as he averts his gaze. “I won’t stay for dinner ma’am, I don’t wanna be a bother.”

“Course you’re staying for dinner dummy.”

“Ronan, language,” Aurora chides, but the reproach sounds more like a formality than anything else. “Adam sweetheart we have more than enough to go around, you’re more than welcome to stay. In fact you’re the only friend of Ronan’s that hasn’t come around for a meal, and I know Niall would love to get to know you along with me.”

Adam feels his cheeks heat even brighter. He knows that she didn’t mean anything by the fact that they have more than enough to go around. It definitely wasn’t intended as any sorta dig, it’s just the way wealthier folks speaks. They’ve never needed to want for anything. Besides, it would be awful of him to stay here and eat their surely amazing food when he knows there’s a three day old meatloaf that his parents would be heating up tonight.

“I should ask my Ma.” Adam says mildly, a sneaky out. He’s sure his parents won’t let him stay past dinner time, and at least this way he won’t inadvertently insult Aurora.

“We’ll make her say yes,” Ronan squawks, indignant at the thought otherwise. Because of course he is, with the parents he got, Ronan probably can’t even fathom eating leftovers or being made to finish all the household chores or being ignored up until either of his parents feel like a good yelling. “Ma, I know he’s skinny but trust me he eats like a freaking maniac. I don’t even know where he stores it!”

“I’ll make so many you boys won’t know what to do with yourselves,” Aurora chortles, and Adam isn’t sure if he imagines the soft, sympathetic look she tosses his way or not, but prefers not to marinate on it. “Adam there’s a phone in the kitchen, you can call your folks from there.”

Shockingly, his mom says that Adam can stay.

“Your dad’s at a poker night, so come back before he does and don’t forget to walk Luanne’s dog tomorrow morning or else the doe’s coming from your pocket.”

Adam’s so stunned he doesn’t even have it inside of him to remind his mother that he doesn’t have a scent to his name.

The rest of that afternoon is spent roaming Ronan’s truly massive backyard, and playing a game that Matthew’s made up using a kickball, a spoon, and two eggs from the chicken coop. Later on Declan helps them with their diorama, and he and Ronan are allowed to eat in his room while watching an old black and white movie in the small television he keeps atop a shelf cluttered with about a thousand other nicknacks and broken toys.

And it’s wonderful.

“He’s just such a prick.”

Adam doesn’t have to ask who Ronan’s talking about.

He’s working beneath an old Ford truck in the small auto repair shop that he somehow finessed getting a job inside of even though he’s only fifteen and a sophomore and frankly, always fucking exhausted.

It’s become the norm for Ronan to ditch Gansey and Noah and join Adam in the dingy, rundown garage on his work nights, mostly just to keep him company. Sometimes he’l bring over homework and read the chapter for whichever class they’ve got the next day, and sometimes they just chat and listen to the old rock station playing from the speakers. But tonight’s one of those rare nights when Ronan is well and properly pissed, so he’s just slamming a bouncy ball against the wall over and over again while ranting about Declan, and Declan’s stupid new internship on the hill, and his stupid new girlfriend, (The third fucking Ashley in a row! Can you believe that!) And has now moved to berating Declan’s slicked back hair and clothes and his know-it-all attitude.

“He’s just such a— A—“

“Prick,” Adam says, snarky as all get out as he slides from under the car and moves to dry his hands from the oil that’s leaked onto him. “You’ve said— Like a thousand fucking times.”

Ronan pouts, arms crossed against his chest. “Well I don’t lie Parrish.”

The corner of Adam’s mouth quirks up reluctantly. “But you do pout, quite moodily too.”

“Oh piss off,” he hisses venomously, flipping him the bird for good measure.

Adam only rolls his eyes at his friend’s antics.

“Is this really because you think Declan’s a prat, or ’s it cause he’s moving out for a whole semester.”

Ronan glares at him with the ferocity of a thousand suns, and a weaker man might’ve shuttered back. But as it is, Adam is not a weaker man, and besides— He’s been on the receiving end of that look, and a thousand other even more menacing ones a countless number of times, it’s part and parcel of being Ronan’s best friend.

“You bite your whore tongue Parrish.”

Adam laughs, appreciates that even when he’s bone weary, Ronan can always do that. Make him feel lighter and dazzling and smile like they were still kids and things sucked, but they just sucked a little less.

“You’re gonna miss’m.”

“I said shut! it!”

“Ronan loves his older brother, oh this is good! I can’t wait to tell Gans!”

“I will punch your lights out you little runt!”

“Oo, big words from a big man.” Adam waggles his brows, unimpressed.

“You don’t know the people I know Parrish, I can get you offed with a snap of my finger!” Ronan says, laughter glittering in his pale eyes. The same color of the blue sky that first day Adam visited the Barns.

“Hah,” Adam snorts, finishing up closing shop for the night. “You know me, who’s a workaholic. Gansey, who’s too busy getting off to old dead kings to care about any sorta espionage mission. And Noah, who’s stoned about 98.5% of the time and built like a twig. You’ve got nothing.”

“I feel like I should be affronted on Noah’s behalf,” Ronan notes contemplatively.

“Oy, can you think on this great moral dilemma on the way to the McDonald’s drive through? I just got paid this morning and have been craving their fries from the dollar menu.”

“Oh fine you heathen,” Ronan huffs, acting oh so bereft. “Who gives a shit about my problems when your stomach is obviously much more important.”

Adam tsks as they meander to Niall’s old BMW that Ronan begged to keep, declining to buy a entirely new vehicle like Declan had gotten for his fifteenth.

“Oh and this provisional license means that I can’t have you in, so if any coppers cruise by just duck down like you’re giving me some road head, yeah?”

It’s Adam’s turn to glare at him. “Keep it up and I’ll have to tell Aurora bout your potty mouth you delinquent.”

Ronan’s smile goes sharp at that, like something very lethal and very dangerous. Adam pretends it doesn’t go straight to his gut.

“Naughty Parrish. And here I was all prepared to save you like a damsel if the coppers actually did stop us.”

Adam scoffs. “Please, that’s not a favor to me, you’re so thirsty to get arrested, it’s pathetic.”

“Well a pretty little thing like you wouldn’t last a day in the slammer,” Ronan goads, pulling the car into gear.

“You’re an idiot, and a prick.” Adam tells him bluntly.

“Tell me something I don’t know beautiful.”

Adam rolls his eyes so hard that he’s afraid he might’ve sprained something.

“Fine, you’re lip piercing makes you look like a douche.”

“But it’s so bad ass though!”

“Yeah, to like ten year old white boys in the suburbs.”

Ronan clutches his fist to his chest, feigning distress. “Parrish you’ve wounded me, I’m bleeding out! A curse to you and your family! And your family’s cow too!”

“Eyes on the Road maniac.” Adam scolds, trying his damndest not to let his mirth show.

Ronan buys himself half the menu and pays for Adam’s happy meal under the guise that it would be too difficult to have separate orders. But he conspicuously doesn’t ask for the receipt, and Adam tempts down the flicker that wants to fight him on it.

They end up on a cliff overlooking town, devouring their food in a sickeningly short amount of time before lying back on Ronan’s car, staring up at the constellations while the radio plays an acoustic song about love and slow dancing and Adam is too busy staring at the infinitesimal space that’s dividing their pinkies on the glass to pay attention to anything else.

“You— Erm, you have nice hands.” More than a bit surprised, Adam flinches back and quirks a brow at him in question. “They’re, erm rough, and you’ve got long fingers,” Ronan explains, his face going bright red and his bottom lip worried between his teeth.

“Is that right?” Adam asks, a slow smile gracing his lips as he gazes over at Ronan’s sharp profile being kissed by starlight.

“It is,” Ronan says, giving one, quick nod and not daring to look over at Adam quite yet. And God, he’s such a mess.

Tentative, Adam links their pinkies together and tilts his head so that he’s resting it on Ronan’s shoulder, hearing it when Ronan lets out the breath he seems to have been holding in for quite a while now.

“Right,” he says in a near whisper.

“Is this good?” Adam asks, only teasing him slightly.

“This is fucking fantastic Parrish.”

“You know that I—“

“I hoped as much,” Ronan admits, a bit flushed.

“But everything’s just so crazy right now,” Adam continues to explain, focussing on the velvet skyline and the full moon pouring over the pair of them.

“Your folks,” Ronan surmises, his jaw set and his open fist clenched so tight that his knuckles go white.

“Ro— Just please be my best friend right now, and not the person I confessed my love too. Please.”

“Course Adam, of course,” Ronan says worriedly, hurrying to collect him into his arms. “Whatever you want, whatever you need. I’m here.”

Adam’s entire body goes relaxed, and he puts a gentle hand over Ronan’s heart. “This, this’s all I want.”

The smile Ronan gives him in turn is blinding.

Adam’s mother tells him early on— tipsy and slurring as she puts him to bed after one of Robert’s moods— not to expect much from this world, this life. She tells him not to get his hopes up with the folly of making it big one day. Of leaving the dust and brimstone that molded him in the first place, tells him it’s a wasted effort.

“You’re not better than us Adam,” she says his name like she meant something else entirely.

She says his name like she means plague, like she means ruin, like she means tragic. She says his name like she sees all the twinkling possibilities she once dreamt of touching slowly collapse right in front of her, like it was his fault that she’s fettered to a life composed of cold silences and loveless touches and being stuck existing in the underbelly of society. Like it’s his fault the light in her eyes fractured day by day until it shattered permanently.

“The teachers don’t know what they’re talking bout, think you’re just some quiet, bookish kid.” She continues to bellow, tiny fists knotted in the material of the threadbare blanket he’s wrapped within. Adam feels nauseous at the scent of beer masking her hot breath. “They don’t know how much of a pain in the ass you are! How you just keep revving your father on for the fun of it! How you’re a fucking disappointment.”

Adam apologizes because he thinks that’s his only option. His mother snarls like she can’t stand to look at him for any longer. And nothing changes because nothing ever does.

But now, sitting in Ronan’s beloved BMW— bloody and battered and barely conscious— Adam thinks he can maybe, finally escape it.

The next time he opens his eyes he’s in an abrasively white hospital room, and he can’t hear out his left ear, and everything aches. But Ronan’s besides him, and that makes everything bearable.

“I hate them,” is the first thing Ronan says when he realizes Adam’s awake and has already pressed the button for the nurse to come in.

“I’m not going back,” Adam tells him, more convicted than he’s ever felt before.

Ronan squeezes his hand in silent thanks and it’s the first time Adam notices that Ronan’s broken three knuckles from the impact against Robert’s face, and he’s surprised that he’s only worried that Ronan’s hurt himself.

Them falling into their relationship was one of the more natural changes in Adam’s life. He hadn’t realized how gradual, how fated their romance actually was. How it’s been building for nearing on a decade.

How Ronan had always chosen Adam first since childhood— through it all. How Ronan is one of the only people Adam has always trusted implicitly. How jealous Ronan had been freshman year when Adam took Blue to homecoming and how relieved he became when Blue and Gansey began going out later that year.

Adam knows that he and Ronan aren’t some sort of soulmate love story, that they can get on each other’s nerves and have fights and disagreements too. But that makes it just the more real, makes it something solid and tangible and something Adam can’t imagine living without.

But the night his Harvard acceptance letter comes is only three months after Niall’s death after a drunk driver had hit him on the slippery January streets. Ronan’s already decided to stay home after graduation to watch out for his Ma and to keep the farm going.

“I can go somewhere closer by,” Adam tells Ronan that night, tangled in one another and Adam’s threadbare sheets in St Agnus, his hearing ear against Ronan’s chest and the pair of them shirtless and clinging onto each other like they needed the closeness to breathe.

“Don’t be stupid Parrish,” Ronan says in a excruciatingly soft cadence, one of his fingers tracing small hearts down Adam’s spine. “You’re gonna go off and be brilliant, and I’ll be here when you get back.”

“Promise?” Adam asks lowly, his voice thick with emotion and his own hands beginning to tremble.

“I’d wait for you for forever and a day.” Ronan tells him with such conviction that Adam’s left speechless, only tilts his had upwards so he could capture Ronan’s mouth and snog him nice and thorough.

“God I love you.” And it’s the first time Adam’s said as much with so many words, but he’s not afraid, not anymore.

“I love you too Parrish.”

Buy Me A Coffee?

#pynch #adam parrish #RONAN LYNCH #THE RAVEN CYCLE #SPILT INK #cowboyformitski #this is so late #But ILY BUBBY

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