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magpiefngrl · 2 years

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I posted 807 times in 2022

94 posts created (12%)

713 posts reblogged (88%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@mikkeneko

@veliseraptor

@ohnoyizhan

@lqtraintracks

@bloody-wonder

I tagged 804 of my posts in 2022

#fanart - 178 posts

#drarry - 84 posts

#wangxian - 81 posts

#the untamed - 70 posts

#mo dao zu shi - 49 posts

#to queue or not to queue - 45 posts

#i laughed - 41 posts

#writing - 35 posts

#inbox - 35 posts

#ofmd - 32 posts

Longest Tag: 127 characters

#death of the author is also not 'ignore everything that is actually in the text in favor of what you feel like saying about it'

My Top Posts in 2022:

9 1/2 days has updated omg

Photo credit: Andrew Hocking (this is a picture of Kennack Sands, it's a real beach in Cornwall)

Kennack Sands, chapter 7 of my Cornwall fic aka 9 1/2 days, is out. It's only been two years, no big deal lol

It's drarry, rated E, currently sitting at 54k with two more chapters to go. It's a Canon Divergence (or rather Detour, you'll see) from the events of Book 7 with Harry and Draco being stranded together after the escape from Malfoy Manor.

Link to Chapter 7

Link to Chapter 1 if you want to read from the top

My eternal gratitude to @lqtraintracks who has betaed the chapter on short notice and gave me some excellent suggestions. Love u <3

66 notes - Posted June 4, 2022

Hellooo! 💕

Sorry to slide in like this, you absolutely don't have to answer this, I just have no idea how else to grab your attention 😫

Your drarry fic series 'Arthur and the Lust Leaks' is seriously one of my all time favourites, they're just so hilarious! I love the dynamic between Daphne and Draco, Arthur (of course!🐣) and the general concept is just wonderful on its own XD

The concept of magic folk getting "Lust Leaks" when they're extremely horny is actually GENIUS!! Like what, how on earth did you come up with such a clever idea!?!?

My question is how would you feel about others using the concept? So long as you're credited for the inspiration, of course!

Thank you! You're brilliant!!💖

Oh what a lovely ask! I'm so glad you like the concept and thrilled you enjoy the 2 fics! I had a ball writing Daphne and Draco and ofc Arthur is adorable <3

How I came up with the Lust Leaks. When I joined the DTH fest, I'd only published one drarry fic that I'd written non-stop and obsessively over a few weeks; a fic which had poured out of me in a torrent. With The Full Monty I was more deliberate. I had a prompt, which gave me a direction to follow, but I wanted to do more. Now, my favourite author is Astolat and one of the things I love about her work is that she always has some cool magical element in her stories. I'm a fantasy author at heart, and her inventiveness and worldbuilding truly resonates with me. So, with this new drarry fic of mine, I wanted to create a magical element that would be new and interesting and would fit with canon.

I thought of developmental stages for children. How magical kids' magic appears when they're young. I can't remember the exact age it's supposed to happen, but in my mind it was linked to the stage where kids develop ego (around age three) (ego meaning the psychological theory, not selfishness). And then I thought what's another big stage of development (adolescence, lots of hormones) and what happens then? (sexual maturity). And what if, during that tumultuous time of their life, their magic goes haywire too?

I can't remember if I came up with the concept first and used it in the story or if I came up with something embarrassing happening to Draco and decided to dig into that idea and develop it. Either way, it went: idolise astolat-> magic appears when toddlers turn into children -> adolescents have raging hormones and this could affect their magic-> lust leaks when horny.

I wanted to write more in that 'verse myself. Back in spring 2017, I'd started writing a Lust Leaks Hogwarts-era fic inspired by a throwaway line in the fic about Blaise and how everything he touched grew wings and flew. I also began a sequel of the Full Monty with the title Saving Arthur. But I had a few big fests coming up and a birthday fic to write, and they got abandoned.

Finally, to answer your question: If you wish to use the concept in your fanfiction, then I'd be happy for you to do so. The credit would be much appreciated, and perhaps even a link to Full Monty for anyone curious to see the origin? That'd be brilliant.

However, this is only for fanfiction. If you're interested in using the concept for original fiction or any kind of work commercially available, then my answer is no. But I'm assuming you want to write drarry/ HP fic :)

This was a fun trip down memory lane. Thank you for sending the ask, for your very kind compliments, and I hope you enjoy playing with my lil' idea xx

68 notes - Posted December 7, 2022

Happy 10th HP anniversary, LQT!

This month my darling friend, @lqtraintracks, celebrates ten years in the HP fandom.

Ten years omg! 🎊🎊🎊🎊

Ten years of passion and enthusiasm and love for drarry and the HP world; ten years of spreading joy to other fans; ten years of astounding writing (gods, I envy her so!); ten years of invaluable contributions to the community.

Lqt, the fandom is blessed to have you as a member and I feel honoured to call myself your friend. I thank my lucky stars I joined drarry when I did and got to meet you 💖

Here's a few things you should know about Lqt:

1. She's a phenomenal writer. No, I don't use this word lightly. If you haven't yet sampled her work, you're missing out. If I were you, I'd rectify this asap. Lqt's craft is a masterclass of its own: strong sentences, beautiful prose, thoughtful characterisations, scorching sex scenes, lots and lots of feels. Her writing sizzles. She's so quotable too. I can't think of another writer who has such a strong gift to write lines that the whole fandom imprints on and can remember years later. For instance: "I've fucked you in that shirt." I'm still losing my fkn mind over this line. Mention Blood and Fire, one of Lqt's masterpieces, to a reader and they'll immediately go "omg I've fucked you in that shirt!!!!!!"

2. She's a supporter of queer and trans rights in true Gryffindor spirit. Passionate and tireless, Lqt actively tries to make fandom a more inclusive, safe and welcoming space for everyone. She's an example to emulate.

3. She's a fierce, generous friend. I don't know what I've done to deserve her, but her generosity and kindness and support seem never ending. She's been there for me, esp during a tough period last year, and has listened to me vent when I felt like getting things off my chest; she's given me advice when I asked for it; and has been a relentless cheerleader when I needed a boost. She's the kind of friend who reads my fics even when they're in fandoms she's not familiar with. She might know nothing about wangxian but she will read my fics and she will comment with some lovely praise, and--I don't know if I ever told you, @lqtraintracks, but that floors me every single time. That you read and comment on my wangxian/hualian/non-HP fics. I'm a bit choked up about it, ngl

Right. *wipes tears* Recs!

My first LQT fic was Entropy to Ecstasy (drarry/ 4k/ E), a stellar example of second person POV and, er, rimming. Is this the most delicious combination or what? The longing in this fic is tangible; the UST through the roof. I adored it and still do; what a marvellous introduction to a great writer.

My latest LQT fic was Heart Like Neon (drarry/ 41k/ E) and it was one of the highlights of 2021. It's got enemies to lovers and hate sex and UST to-die-for but also excellent new magic (the Reaching! how amazing and such a Harry magic!), a large cast handled deftly, and a fantastic relationship progression. And again: so many wonderful quotes! "Being good… it’s not just one choice. It’s a thousand different choices. And that’s just one day." How do you do it, LQT????

But the fic that has carved itself in my heart is Blood and Fire (drarry/ 45k/ E). (The banner above is a realistic depiction of the state of my mind and body while reading the fic.) It's a story of second chances; of regret and mistakes; of making amends; of forgiveness. It's got agonising pining and excruciating longing; palpable tension and hot hot hot hot sex. It includes the most emotional hug of all times. It's a fic that makes me feel like "a bundle of kindling who invited fire over for dinner". (see what I told you about the quotes? She's fkn killing it!) It's a drarry classic (yes, I went there) and it's a fic that I will never, ever forget. For me, this story is up there with Donna Tartt and CS Pacat.

LQT, happy anniversary!!! May you enjoy another 10, 20, or more years in fandom! I'm so happy to know you 💖

79 notes - Posted January 14, 2022

I started watching Avatar The Last Airbender (just season 1 so far) and had a look at the wikis. Can't tell you how shocked I am that the show isn't Katara x Zuko endgame. Shocked I tell you!

83 notes - Posted March 24, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

9 1/2 days is complete!

I think it's pretty obvious from the graphic that I began this fic a loooong time ago, back when we used to create collages for our fic posts :DD Trends have changed, people post some gorgeous banners these days, but this collage waited patiently for literal years for me to get my act together and finish writing, so there was no way I'd use anything else. Old school graphic it is.

******

Fic Title: 9 1/2 days

Warning: Author Chose Not to Use Warnings

Rating: Explicit

Length: 69.6k

Summary:

After the events at the Manor, Harry and Draco find themselves stranded in the countryside with a broken wand and Death Eaters on their tail. This is the story of an uneasy truce, featuring faerie forests, seaside caves, Romani camps, kind old ladies, and a shared bed in an attic.

Or how two boys fell in love in the midst of a bloody coup.

******

Thank you to the fabulous @lqtraintracks for her thoughtful suggestions in these last two chapters. The story is much better as a result. <33

Links to new chapters: 9, 10.

Read from the start

ETA: I've got some free time today and tomorrow so if anyone wants to send asks about the fic and its progress through the years, if you have any questions as to what hindered me, what spurred me on, or about what inspired me; or whatever: send me an ask! It's such a huge weight off my shoulders and I feel I need to get a lot out of my chest.

105 notes - Posted June 18, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #my 2022 tumblr year in review #Cornwall fic #I spent v little time on tumblr this past year #And was close to leaving for good #Except that the tumblr renaissance then happened #The tumblraissance #And I'm still here #some of my most popular posts turned out to be my fic updates #I finished an old WIP #It was a big deal #For me anyway

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paymentworldblog · 8 months

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The Importance of Fintech and Its Real-life Applications

Hey there, money maestros! Ever wonder how your smartphone is secretly your financial sidekick? That's the magic of Fintech—no capes or suits, just everyday tech making a real difference in how we handle our cash.

In this blog, we're diving deep into the importance of Fintech and its real-life applications. No rocket science, promise—just a plain talk about why Fintech isn't just for finance gurus but for folks like you and me.

Think of Fintech as the backstage crew making the financial show run smooth. From streamlining transactions to turning your phone into a bank branch, Fintech is the behind-the-scenes hero making money moves a breeze. But it's not just about convenience; Fintech's got a heart for inclusivity too. It's tearing down barriers, and welcoming everyone to the financial party.

Ever thought about investing but felt it was reserved for the pros? Fintech throws open the gates, making investing as easy as ordering a pizza. And here's the kicker: Fintech isn't just about moving money; it's about understanding you. It's like having a financial buddy who knows your habits, helping you make smarter choices.

So, buckle up for a journey through the world of Fintech—where your phone isn't just a device; it's your financial companion, and Fintech is the friend who makes your money matters a whole lot simpler. Let's dive in!

Streamlining Transactions for the Everyday Joe

Fintech is your financial wizard, no top hats are required. It's not just for the big shots on Wall Street; it's for regular folks like you and me. Remember those days of paper checks and waiting in line at the bank? Well, Fintech stepped in like a superhero and wiped that away.

Now, think about your phone as a magic wand. With a tap, bills are paid, and your money zips around faster than you can say "instant." No more waiting; it's like the fast lane for your cash. Fintech made it so simple; it's as easy as ordering a pizza.

Imagine no more hunting for a pen or standing in line with a bunch of papers. Fintech took the hassle out of transactions. Your phone becomes a financial command center, and with a few taps, you're the captain of your money ship.

So, here's the deal: Fintech isn't about fancy suits and complicated terms; it's about making your financial life as easy as ordering your favorite takeout. With Fintech, you're the boss, and your transactions? They're simpler than ever. Just tap, pay, and go. That's Fintech for the everyday Joe.

The Rise of Mobile Banking

Ever wished your bank could tag along with you like a trusty sidekick? Fintech heard you loud and clear. Enter mobile banking, the rock star of the financial world, and guess who's behind the scenes? Yep, Fintech, making it happen.

No more planning your day around a bank visit – your bank now squeezes right into your phone. Picture this: lounging on your couch, you check your balances, toss some cash to a friend, and hey, why not dabble in a bit of investing? It's not a dream; it's mobile banking, putting the power of your finances literally at your fingertips.

No need for queues or waiting around; your bank follows you wherever you go. It's not just about transactions; it's about control. With Fintech paving the way, your phone becomes the ultimate financial command center, and banking? Well, it's no longer a place you visit; it's a thing you do while catching up on your favorite show. That's the rise of mobile banking, brought to you by Fintech – making your financial world as mobile as you are.

Fintech's Hand in Financial Inclusion

Time to talk about a real-deal issue: not everyone gets the VIP treatment in traditional banking. But fear not, because Fintech swoops in like a superhero, waving the flag for financial inclusion. Picture this: with just a smartphone, even those without the golden ticket of a fancy bank account can now join the financial party.

Traditional banking can be a bit exclusive, like a members-only club. But Fintech changes the game. It's not about where you're from or how much is in your wallet; it's about having a smartphone – something many folks already have in their pockets. It's like Fintech saying, "Hey, everyone deserves a shot at financial services."

So, what's happening now? The playing field is getting leveled. Thanks to Fintech, the financial world isn't a distant place for a select few; it's a space where everyone can pull up a chair. It's not just banking; it's about making sure nobody gets left out of the financial conversation. That's Fintech's hand in financial inclusion – turning exclusivity into inclusivity, one smartphone at a time.

Investing for the Regular Folks

Ever felt like investing was this mysterious club with a steep membership fee? Well, cue Fintech – the game-changer that swings the doors wide open. It's not an exclusive party anymore; it's an investing fiesta, and guess what? Everyone's invited.

You don't need a finance degree or a secret handshake. Fintech is like the friendly guide in the investing maze, and all you need is a smartphone. No more feeling lost or overwhelmed – a few taps, and you're in the stock market game. Yes, it's that simple. Your spare change can now become a potential nest egg, and you don't need a fat wallet to get a seat at the table.

So, forget the old tales of complicated investments; Fintech makes it accessible for regular folks like you and me. It's not about being a financial whiz; it's about making your money work for you, and Fintech is your ticket to the investing party. Ready to turn spare change into financial potential? Let's dive in!

Fintech's Secret Sauce: Data and Analytics

Alright, let's talk about Fintech's secret sauce – no fancy ingredients, just data and analytics. It's not just about shifting money around; it's about getting to know your financial habits on a first-name basis. Imagine Fintech as your financial buddy, the one who really gets you.

These platforms aren't just number crunchers; they're wizards analyzing your spending patterns, predicting your next move, and serving up insights personalized just for you. It's like having a friend who knows your favorite pizza toppings but for your money. With Fintech, making smarter money choices isn't rocket science; it's like having a cheat code for your finances.

So, forget about the days of wondering where your money went or scratching your head over budgets. Fintech's got your back, decoding the language of your spending and helping you navigate the financial maze. It's not magic; it's just Fintech, your go-to buddy for making wiser money moves. Ready to let data and analytics be the Sherlock Holmes of your finances? Let's do this!

So, there you have it—Fintech, the unsung hero of everyday finance. It's not about complex theories or highbrow concepts; it's about making your financial journey smoother, simpler, and more inclusive. As Fintech continues to evolve, one thing's for sure: the way we handle money will never be the same again. Here's to navigating the financial frontier with Fintech by our side!

Want to develop your own fintech product? Let Techtsy help you. It is a full-service software development company that can help you build solutions for the future generations.

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44gamez · 9 months

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Age of Empires 2: Definitive Edition is more vital than ever in 2024

I spent the higher a part of my vacation break leaping from one real-time technique sport to a different: a They Are Billions failed run right here, a Command & Conquer: Pink Alert skirmish there. I even dug up my bodily copies of The Lord of the Rings: The Battle for Center-earth and its sequel from my mother and father’ basement. The liminal area between 2023’s late releases and 2024’s January rush supplied the proper alternative to zoom out (actually and figuratively) and benefit from the act of telling tiny little folks the place to go and what to do. At a sure level, my nostalgia morphed into curiosity. Age of Empires 2: Definitive Version’s Steam news feed has been extra lively than these of many more recent releases, and I lastly determined to take a more in-depth look. It seems, developer Forgotten Empires and Xbox Recreation Studios have been releasing new DLC, updates, patches, challenges, and seasonal aesthetics on an nearly weekly foundation because the remaster’s 2019 launch. This cadence, coupled with the truth that 26,000 people have been taking part in the almost 25-year-old RTS on Steam, satisfied me to take a detour. (I performed on Steam, but it surely’s additionally out there by way of Recreation Move.) And never solely is Age of Empires 2 nonetheless fairly rattling good — like many, I take into account it among the best RTS video games of all time — it feels extra very important than ever in 2024. To begin, there at the moment are 37 complete campaigns. This rely ignores the dozen discrete historic battles, the tutorial missions revolving round William Wallace, and the eight remastered campaigns from the earlier sport. (Did I point out Forgotten Empires additionally remastered a lot of the primary Age of Empires and launched it as an growth for the sequel?) If, like me, you favor narrative campaigns and skirmishes towards the AI in RTS video games, then Age of Empires 2 is tantamount to a single-player gold mine.

Picture: Forgotten Empires/Xbox Recreation Studios Whereas I at all times hesitate to think about a breadth of content material a high quality in and of itself, it’s each surreal and inspiring to see this many new missions, cutscenes, and distinctive models in Age of Empires 2 this lengthy after its preliminary launch. Forgotten Empires’ remaster performs like a dream, with a bevy of quality-of-life enhancements (I’m taking a look at you, farm queues) and enemy AI that truly is aware of learn how to exploit your weaknesses and bait you into susceptible conditions. Certain, pathfinding continues to be an albatross round Age of Empires 2’s neck — chasing one scout midway throughout the map with a complete battalion of cavalry won't ever be enjoyable — but it surely’s a a lot smaller albatross today. I can really maneuver a complete military throughout a river ford with out half of it doubling again to seek out one other crossing. Relating to a sport that feels this good to play, I’ll take all the missions I can get. I kicked off this specific stint with one Vlad Dracula (aka Vlad the Impaler) and his marketing campaign to guide the Turks, Magyars, and Slavs towards the Ottoman Empire. Every of the 5 missions in his storyline contain vastly totally different eventualities. The third, titled “The Breath of the Dragon,” is as difficult as it's thrilling, tasking me with capturing the central Wallachian metropolis of Giurgiu earlier than defending it from assault in each path. Its placement on the banks of the Danube necessitates build up a naval presence and crusing to quite a few small settlements working to provide the principle Ottoman citadel of Darstor. When my Slavic forces lastly entered Darstor, destroyed its fortifications, and demolished its fort, I nearly needed to step away to catch my breath.

Picture: Forgotten Empires/Xbox Recreation Studios My return to the 1999 basic begs the query: What about Age of Empires 4, the newest entry within the collection? I’ve been a fan of Relic Leisure’s sequel since its 2021 launch. That appreciation has solely grown because the group refines and builds upon an already spectacular basis; I particularly admire 4’s asymmetrical faction design, which makes taking part in the nomadic Mongols, for example, really feel vastly totally different than managing the advanced dynasty system of China. Age of Empires 2’s civilizations, by comparability, really feel far more uniform outdoors of their distinctive models. However in its slick mechanics, its gorgeous artwork fashion, its wealth of inventive missions, and its robust content material cadence, Age of Empires 2 stays atop the pedestal it climbed nearly 25 years in the past. I haven’t even touched “The Mountain Royals” or “Return of Rome,” its latest expansions, as of this writing — however I completely plan to quickly. The sport’s ongoing well being is proof that, given correct time and funding, a group can revitalize a basic in a medium identified for its ephemeral works. I booted up Age of Empires 2: Definitive Version on the doorstep of 2024 to be able to replay a permanent basic; I additionally discovered a vibrant trendy sport. Join the Read the full article

#Age #Definitive #Edition #Empires #vital

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worldoftechnology · 9 months

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The Importance of Fintech and Its Real-life Applications

Streamlining Transactions for the Everyday Joe

The Rise of Mobile Banking

Fintech's Hand in Financial Inclusion

Investing for the Regular Folks

Fintech's Secret Sauce: Data and Analytics

Looking for a Fintech solution for your business? Techtsy can help. Techtsy builds all kinds of solutions for businesses of all levels.

#Fintech #payment solution

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snd-things-we-like · 2 years

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Hello, decided we should put a tiny into post here!

This is one of our side blogs! It's where us lit'ler folk can share whatever we want, as much as we want! Partially so we don't flood the main blogs, but mostly so that when we feel kinda down or something we have a whole blog full of things we already know we like to look at!

If you're looking for the main groups, they live over on @safety-net-did and @ghostgetsablog . If you talk to us one of them will be the account that replies, and probably one of them will do the talking- We're not very comfy talking to strangers.

Side note from LiLoc and Jason: Despite the interests on this blog, and the alters using it being littler in mind, our body is an adult. We still have the life experience of a 30+ year old. If you can't interact in a respectful way you will be blocked. We don't tolerate unkindnesses to our littles in any capacity.

You can read about how we tag stuff under the readmore.

I hope you like our blog. I really like keeping it ^-^

We try to tag stuff regularly, but we still do fast-reblogs now and then. Most of the blog runs on queue now so that we are more likely to tag things, though!

Overall there's not gonna be much in the way of classic or common trigger subjects here, because the point is fun stuff. So it's unlikely anything obviously triggering will show up here, and definitely not untagged.

Unless you've got triggers around animals, bugs, or nature. Y'see, we really like animals and bugs and nature stuff, and so they're the most likely to get fast-reblogged without tags.

We try to tag real-life pictures and videos with #animal or #invertebrate, and #art and #plush for non-real things. We also add a simple word for what kind, like #cat or #moth.

We try to tag things with sound, too. We have hearing and auditory processing difficulties, as well as often watch things muted for sensory reasons. So we use a tag system for sound.

"#sound is important" means that without the sound the video won't make sense, or not be worth watching. This is for things without captions, as well as things where the focus is off screen and you have to listen for it.

"#sound makes it better" is pretty self explanatory. You can watch it without sound and still have a good time, but if you're able to listen it'll be more fun.

"#sound not needed" the video either doesn't have sound, the sound isn't relevant, or is fully captioned and the sound doesn't specifically improve the message.

We've started using "#earstrain" for things with sounds that are unpleasant, regardless of their integration to the video.

We are in love with the various acronym creatures, like tbh/autism and btw/ADHD. We tag all them and related with #creature family!

Still trying to find a tag we like for the more creepy/scary/weird things we like. We don't tend to share anything explicitly scary here, but sometimes we share art of creatures that might make folk uncomfy.

#intro post #pinned post #tagging convention

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reddeadreference · 2 years

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Blog Progress Update (Travel Blog Style #19)

Drafts 75 - Queue 21

I’m very slowly filling the queue. I’m almost done with Scarlett Meadows locations.

This update has a lot of photos which is why it’s got a “read more” cause it got long.

On our quest for Orchids Arthur runs into a kid missing a dog in Strawberry… now I remember a kid missing a dog in Emerald Ranch… and I remember bad things happening… this better not be the same thing. Weird how this kid lives at the same house Skinny lived in… YAY HAPPY ENDING!

Looking for orchids again and OMFG I’ve never just randomly seen nite folk in the woods without it being an ambush. Two guys were walking away from a dead body on the edge of the water (that had predator bait on it, wtf). One had a torch the other a bow.

On the last exotic quest and I’m headin back to camp cause the sparrow and dragon flowers are up there. Not once this playthrough has someone come for Arthur when he spends WEEKS away from camp (nor has anyone broken me out of jail… all the stuff he does for this gang and nothing.… come on guys..).

Pearson… you’re telling me 99 bird meat wasn’t enough?

HA! Micah was about to talk to me, Arthur coughed a bit as he walked over BUT I got to the shave station and Micah walked away!

(WHY IS ABIGAIL SO DANG PRETTY T_T)

So I’m leaving camp, sayin good morning to Charles as I go… and I see the red of an enemy on my mini map… and my controller starts flashing red and white… go to the map and there’s two fucking bounty hunters to the right of camp, I’m going to the left… ISTG if it says I led enemies to camp I’m gonna scream. They’re heading in my direction… they’re gonna go THROUGH camp… FUUU-

(I realized way too late I should have gotten more photos of Arthur picking flowers...)

Ran into the Feral Man for the third time so I followed him back, didn’t know you could “greet” the wolves (Arthur just says “looks like I’m intruding” in a nervous tone and immediately they attack). Got the photos of the journal and went to reloaded a previous save because I felt bad… but i somehow didn’t save even though I remember saving… and I’m not spending another hour looking for flowers X.x Sorry Wolf man..

Last flowers to get are back in the bayou. It’s night. I don’t have my headphones on. I’m asking for death.

Case in point a gator watching me admire a flower...

White dot behind me, turn and 4 fucking nite folk running at me with various blades. JFC, always have your headphones on OR don’t fucking go into the bayou at night!

I FORGOT THE PEARLS ON THE GUN WERE FROM TAHITI! XD

“Have you been?”

“Nearly…”

Omg Arthur’s lil “whoa..” at the hat was so cute! He actually likes it!

Now for a wash, a nap, a shave and a new outfit for the hat.

Voila~ (I couldn’t pick a shirt.. also I’m sorry this is chapter 6 Arthur so he looks so tired... T-T)

Okay now I’m working on getting more Lemoyne stuff into the queue. Went by Hill Haven Ranch to retake photos of Face Rock.. and apparently ... the house has an inside… I can take pictures… I need to come back at night because the man may or may not have recognized Arthur from that night with Uncle…

Camped out til night....

On my way there I got distracted by the stars… I wish real life had stars like this… damn light pollution… (I REALLY love how this photo looks =D)

FORGOT ABOUT THE DOG

… okay… I saved… I’m gonna have to do some things Arthur wouldn’t agree with.. HOGTIE FASTER!

So I’m in the house.. Wondering why out of the three ranchers none of them looked like the guy from earlier… then I’m in camera mode and find him…oddly enough he’s not marked as an enemy… he’s an X… dude you’re just hogtied, chill..

Ooooo~ The past 10 minutes were all a dream~ ooooo~

Also look at this bird I found on Deer Cottage when I was over there ^_^

(Western filter)

Also also (last one I swear) I really like this crane(?) photo I took

(it was kinda far away so I had to zoom via lens)

#rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 photo mode #Arthur Morgan #abigail roberts #blog progress update

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mourntheantagonist · 4 years

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Not really a HC but imagine Billy singing along to his favourite songs (badly) while using a dildo for a mic. How would Steve react?

hold on one sec

*screams*

ok I’m better now

***

A little known fact about Billy Hargrove is that, in the privacy of his own bedroom, he loves to sing and dance. He loves to turn the volume up to the highest setting to the point picture frames hung on nails begin to rattle on the walls in their own percussive chorus and he can no longer hear his own thoughts. Channeling whatever emotion or plurality of emotions he’s feeling that day into the movement of his body to a rhythmic beat and the shredding of his vocal cords as he belts notes too high for his limited range.

It’s the only other way he’s known how to deal with his anger other than with his own fists. He’s only ever known destruction as a coping mechanism. Fists to the wall or fists to the jaw. This was option c.) fists to the air.

He let himself look ridiculous. Because he was alone. Free to let completely loose. Singing as loud as he could, no way he’d be heard over the sheer volume of everything else around him. He let his hair flip from side to side until it was a frizzy mess of blonde curls and he let his feet lift off the ground in rapid motion until they ached and he was too out of breath to remember what he was feeling that had brought the dance craze on. Because he was alone.

At least he had thought he was.

Billy hadn’t considered that “my folks are out of town for the weekend” could be interpreted in a different way.

Unfortunately for Billy, Mötley Crüe was blaring in his ears too loud for him to hear the rumble of the Beemer pulling out front of his house. Definitely too loud for him to hear Steve’s knuckles wrap against his bedroom window where the curtains were drawn and Steve was given a clear sight of Billy’s descent into insanity.

Steve just stood there by the window and let himself laugh a little at his boyfriend completely letting loose like that. It was something he’d never seen before and it was kind of refreshing in a way. Just a little more evidence to add to his file that he was in fact a real human with real emotions and not just a walking Canadian tuxedo.

Billy still hadn’t noticed him yet, and no amount of yelling and pounding would change that. So Steve just gets comfortable, resting his arms and chin on the windowsill and watching Billy move around his bedroom like he’s watching it through the TV.

It seemed normal for the most part. Not necessarily normal for Billy, but nothing too out there that would make Steve do anything other than laugh. That was until of course Billy reached underneath his bed and pulled out the purple nine-inch dildo that Steve had given him as a gift. Billy brought it straight to his mouth and began using it as a microphone and it should not have turned Steve on as much as it had.

His dick twitched as he watched Billy scream into the “dildo mic”. Billy’s mouth was so close to the tip and all Steve could think about was how Billy’s hot breath would feel if what he was holding wasn’t just purple silicone. He was actually growing hard in his jeans at the sight of Billy screeching into a phallic object and that was hilarious in itself. Steve was simultaneously turned on and extraordinarily amused.

Fortunately for Steve, the song finally came to an end with a fading volume, the dip in the sound just long enough for Steve to make his presence known with another shout of Billy’s name and several slams of a palm against glass.

Billy turned at a speed that could cause whiplash and as soon as his eyes locked with Steve’s he was frozen in place. Dildo still just three inches from his face and another loud song already queueing up on the boom box. After standing in place for at least a total thirty seconds, Billy finally propped open the window and shut off the music that was likely deafening to Steve and his pop music ears. He was still holding the piece of silicone firmly in his hand and his face was flushed bright enough to complement the purple.

Steve leaned his head in through the open window and took the dildo from Billy’s hold. Using it as a pointer, he pointed the tip to Billy’s chest.

“What do you say to the real thing?”

Billy finally came unfrozen and hoists Steve up through the open window, closes the curtains, and leaves absolutely no time to spare.

#you sent this forever ago I apologize!!#harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #stranger things #mandi writes tresh #ficlet #headcanons #lemons

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raevenlywrites · 3 years

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Get to Know Raev

Thanks for the tag @apollonkondric

1. Why did you choose your URL? - Cause I'm a Raeven, and the things I write are very Raevenly (also its a nickname from my wife)

2. Any side blogs?

@raevenlywrote is my wips only sideblog, so folks who wanted to put notifs on but didn't want to be overwhelmed by nonsense had options

@raevenlyrites is my witchblr that I never remember to post to

@artrefsforlove is where I keep art stuff, mostly cool pictures my wife might like to watercolor

@worldbuildingwedasks is a community hub for reblogging open asks for Worldbuilding Wednesday, and also recently just cool inspiring worldbuilding stuffs

and also @wip119 is technically still a thing? It started out as kind of like a writing advice shitposting silliness

3. How long have you been on tumblr? I had a tumblr back in college, @acorvidsnest, but then like school do it ate all my time and quite frankly I don't even remember what email it was under but there's my blast from the past if yall wanna go take a look

4. Do you have a queue tag? - Yes? But I don't remember what it is, because I never use it? queuex4 maybe? idk

5. What did you originally start this blog for? - To promote my web serial, In Search of Asylum. It didn't get the traction I wanted, but I learned a lot from it and I've made a lot of fun friends in the writeblr community so I'll count it as a win

6. Why did you choose your icon? - It me! I very rarely feel like I look like myself in pictures, but the photo this sketch was based on really nails it (even though my hair doesn't look like that anymore)

7. Why did you choose your header? - Because my tumblr is my brain on a plate. Fun fact: Those are my hands and that is a real jello brain I made

8. What's your post with the most notes? - Lords I don't even know. Probably one where I tried to make someone else's post funnier though, like Lawful Chaotic or We Do Not Write in Notebooks (the brogle uquiz is doing pretty good atm too)

9. How many followers do you have? - somewhere over 2k? I try not to look so I don't obsess about it going up and down

10. How many blogs do you follow? - somewhere over 2k as well? Most of my followers came from follow backs when I just went through writeblr posts and went on a massive following spree :P

11. Have you ever made a sh*tpost? - I don't have the tag #raevenly shitposts for nothing

12. How often do you use Tumblr every day? - as often as I get bored

13. Have you ever had a fight with another blog? - Nah. I don't engage, I block

14. How do you feel about 'you have to reblog this' posts? - Nobody tells me what to do

15. Opinion on tag games? - love em, but it always takes me FOREVER to get around to doing them. Also I kind of loathe the long reblog chains of them, they're dash destorying and they make me think I'm getting comments on my stuff only to realize they're actually talking to someone else who's added on :(

16. Opinion on ask games? - Love em, gimmie dem asks! You don't even have to care about the answer just copy/paste a question and go on anon. You'll make someone's day just sending them a random ask :)

17. Which of your mutuals is Tumblr famous? - oh lord i have no idea

18. Do you have a crush on any of your mutuals? - I am in love with @loopyhoopywrites's creativity. Does that count?

Tagging: Anyone who'd like to do it! I should be going to bed instead of playing on tumblr XD

#tag games #open tag #tag you're it

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serararku · 3 years

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S’era Rarku - The Desert Demon

Age: 20

Sex: Female

Height: 63 ilms

Weight: 140 ponze

Eyes: Blue / Cyan

Hair: Black / Silver

Birthplace: Red Skeleton Wastes, Southern Thanalan

Family: S’rarku Nunh (Father, Deceased) S’yuun Koss (Mother), S'umi Rarku (Sister)

Love Interest: R’zevi Tia, K’thalen Tia (Former), S’tage Tia (Former, Deceased)

Tribe Nunh: Vahli Nunh

Orientation: Bisexual

Jobs/Professions: Samurai/Ninja

Personality: S'era is a sweetheart. She is incredibly friendly to just about everyone she meets, making it remarkably easy for her to make friends. But despite her cheerful disposition and overly welcoming presence, she has bouts of anger that can rise from the slightest provocation. S'era has adopted and integrated many social customs and queues from civilized society, but deep down she is still a wild tribal savage at heart. The angrier she gets, the more of this side of her cones out. Fiercely loyal to her friends and loved ones, S'era will often justify her morally ambiguous decisions with her warped sense of justice. I'm addition she wears her heart on her sleeve, and therefore cannot conceal her emotions to save her life.

Mannerisms: Eorzean is her second language. Her mother tongue, Huntspeak, is simple and direct, and these habits have carried over. As a result she is painfully blunt and tactless. She will often hum while she's thinking, a psychological tick she developed at an early age.

Strengths: S'era is smarter than she appears. She is quick to learn, mastering techniques in weeks that would normally take moons; she has a talent for adaptation in combat. Despite her allegedly terrible grasp of magicka, she can manipulate aether in the form of fire, frost, and lightning quite easily, and will often imbue her katana with such enchantments to devastating effect. She is quick to rush to the defense of her friends and can sympathize with people easily.

Weaknesses: S'era is stubborn, emotional, ill-tempered, and reckless -- a lethal combination. She will avoid doing anything she doesn’t want to do at all costs, which often results in her putting more effort into getting out of doing something than she would by simply doing it. She is also quite selfish, for the most part, with no real sense of moderation or restraint. Coupled with how fluctuating her emotions can be, S’era remains susceptible to provocation, and she allows her feelings to guide her decisions far too often. More than once her rash choices have put herself and others in terrible danger. With her talents learning the katana comes her ego, and deep down she believes herself to be Hadriel Isenhart’s greatest student.

Reason for Playing: She is my first character in FF14 (That I kept) and is one of my all time favorites. Personality wise she is a mix between my old World of Warcraft characters, mainly my priestess Syrahn and paladin Tyrasam, with an extra layer of horniness appropriate to my personal headcanon of Miqo’te culture. I enjoy writing erotica for those who haven’t noticed the trending theme in most of my writings from her perspective, and she provides the perfect vehicle for that. The black hair, pale blue eyes, and temper are based off my original main protagonist in a story I may never finish. Her main conflict trying to protect her tribe is ripped straight out of that same story. I’d like to say I chose a catgirl because of the lore potential and unique setting, but really it was because they’re cute.

Other Notes: I don’t really do Face Claims anymore, as you can only really choose actors with plenty of pictures and gifs about them (plus face claiming random people is a little weird). So instead I choose different types of music. For S’era, Norwegian folk suits her the best.

Main Theme: Skáld - Rún

Sample Playlist: Garmarna - Ramunder, Heilung - In Maidjan, Wardruna - Skugge

#{ The Desert Demon }

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largishcat · 3 years

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tag game WOO. I hardly ever do these but i am feeling motivated this morning. I was tagged by @reyiosa

Why did you choose your url? Its my AO3 username and i wanted to consolidate my fannish accounts under one url

Any side blogs? Nothing active lol. You all get to deal with whatever my obsession of the month is

How long have you been on tumblr? Oh, forever. Maybe late 2011?

Do you have a queue tag? A very important question for queue. I’m terrible about using it tho

Why did you start your blog in the first place? One of my high school friends told me too. She’s not on tumblr anymore but i am lol

Why did you choose your icon/pfp? @dibdibpio was offering commissions and i wanted someone to draw me a chicken in a hat. Obviously i had to use it as my icon

Why did you choose your header? Its a picture I took at the NYC women’s march in 2017! I thought it was a good picture. Also a warning to folks that i post about politics a lot lol

What’s your post with the most notes? I’m sad to say that its probably that jk rowling post from before she stopped being crypto

How many mutuals do you have? I don’t know XD i know i love y’all. No idea how many of you there are

How many followers do you have? Just tipped over 3k recently

How many people do you follow? Uh, three hundred something? I just trimmed the inactive blogs recently

Have you ever made a shitpost? My life is a shitpost

How often do you use Tumblr each day? Enough that it’s embarrassing

Have you had a fight/argument with another blog? Not for a long time lol. I think the last time was with that weirdo who runs an anti-pansexual blog? I just dont get people like that. Like, that’s what you’re choosing to make your contribution to the community? A pan hate blog? Go volunteer at your local LGBT center and talk to some real human queers

How do you feel about those “you need to reblog this” posts? I dont reblog them

Do you like tag games? I DO but I’m so bad at actually doing them. I have like five saved in drafts and i swear someday I’ll do them

Do you like ask games? I do but i never reblog them

Which of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous? I can think of a couple with a sizable following lol

Do you have a crush on a mutual? Some of y’all are hot, but i am married

Tag someone! I tag @mydarlingsarah @katieamnesiaandrews @multi-ethnicbutterfly and anyone else who wants to

#tag game #long post #uh tmi? idk i never fuckign talk about myself on this blog anymore

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shaekingshitup · 4 years

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unintended part two

A/N: ALRIGHTY FOLKS! WE ARE BACK WITH SOME MORE ACTION FOR MR. JACKSON! As of now, the face claim for the reader is going to be Keke Palmer

But, if you’re anything like me. All I did was just post a picture of someone who wishes they were you and in this fic with you and Trevor Jackson haha. Whatever floats your boats friends. Please note that echoic memory is a real thing. It just doesn’t work how I described it haha. More like echoic and As always thanks to @glittermakesmesmile for giving me the first feedback and confidence to even post these things. Also big shout out to @twistedcharismaaa who helped me challenge myself to write more even if I don’t feel like it. So, this series will hopefully get some more chapters coming soon!

WHAT YOU NEED TO KNOW:

Pairing: Trevor Jackson x Black OC

Warnings: NONE

Word Count: approx 2500

HERE WE GO!

^ Jayden’s Song Association Fit

-----------------------------------------------

“Let me take my Black ass to the restroom while we got ourselfs a break. ROCKSY, what’s that cam’ra lookin’ like? We need another battery?”

“We’re good. Jayden, you want a snack?” Roxy redirected at their latest arrival. Jayden tried to sneak a look at the biggest one in the room and failed. He smiled at her. Her glance had caught both of them off guard and it made him feel giddy. It was the most beautiful and natural response she'd received from him-or anyone for that matter- in a while.

“I’m good.” she said hiding her own bashfulness behind her steely exterior. She maintained eye contact with Trevor. Roxy opened up a cabinet to pull out an assortment of Lays and refill the chip bowls that Trevor had demolished when he’d shown up

“ Imma keep tryin. Venmo? Paypal? Zelle? CashApp? Damn, I can get it to you in Bitcoin if that’s what you prefer.”

“How have you done on the game so far?” Jayden again completely ignored his attempts to repay her. She wasn’t concerned about a few extra dollars.

“I’m doin alright so far." He also refused to break contact first "So far Song Association has been the easiest game for me to navigate today.” Jayden blinked and conceded for now. Motivated by his win Trevor strolled over to the living room where she was admiring some of Terrell’s music selection.

“Clever.” she tossed over her shoulder as she reached for a vinyl. In one swift motion, Trevor had taken it from her mid-review.

“Al Green?” He smirked. “ You’ve got taste J. Let me guess.. uh, track 5?”

“What?”

“That’s your single. I see it. No worries though. We can work on that.” he said just as he caught a glimpse of Terrell returning back into the room. Trevor placed the album back in her hands and returned to his stool, readjusting his mic.

“Alright, Mr. Jackson. YA READY?! No more stoppin’ this midnight train to Georgia.” Terrell hollered. Jayden giggled at his silliness as she glanced at the tracklist for Al Green’s Greatest Hits.

Track 5: Tired of Being Alone

Damn he cocky. Jayden thought. At least it wasn’t in an overbearing manner. It was a little endearing. He seems a little goofy. That smile was very telling. But she wouldn’t show that just yet. Sitting back in her audience of one, Jayden watched them continue to play.

“If I gave you the word “Never” what hits your mind?” Terrell asked the singer. Trevor starts going into a Jackson 5 single that Jayden honestly didn’t know. But, she knows that he is DOING IT. Her eyes go wide as his Michael impression is spot on and before she can even register her own body's movements, she's vibing with it. Music always had a way of helping her with her emotions and channeling a less.. “feisty”,as it had been put earlier, connection with herself and the rest of the world. She was moving around in her seat and doing her best not to spill her coffee over herself or her new friend’s floor.

"Oh shit!" she said clamping her hand over her mouth immediately. That was louder than she expected. Especially since it hadn't meant to leave her head at all. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

"AHA HA" Roxy guffawed. "I tried to warn you. Don't worry Jayden. We'll fix it in post anyways"

"Jayden you good girl. I had the same reACTion the first time I laid my eyes- I meant my ears on Trevor" Terrell stated taking a very pointed sip from his mug. Everyone knew he'd meant what he'd said the first time and it was causing them all to try not to break into laughter so they could push forward.

"Yeah. Very natural response J. Hakuna matata" Trevor confirmed. Jayden playfully rolled her eyes.

"What's the next word? He's a lil too comfortable" she spoke up.

Terrell nodded at Jayden and refocused on Trevor. "WAY. w-a-y"

Without hesitation, he bursted into song. It was another that Jayden was sadly unfamiliar with.

What is in this man's repertoire?

Soon enough Terrell explained that it was an original off of a project called Rough Drafts 2. At once Jayden grabbed her phone and opened her Spotify app. Creating a new playlist, she glanced up at the boys and locking in on Trevor she came up with an idea. "Thotful n Tired 💭" she titled it. She was adding damn near his whole discography when her ears perked up at the fact that he had an additional 200 unreleased singles on his computer at home. The more time spent in his presence the more the question of "Who the hell is this nigga?" rose in Jayden's mind.

Trevor responded to Terrell all the while staring at Jayden and answering her unspoken question as well.

"So any fans that live in L.A. and you wanna just come and listen to new music not recorded.." he trailed off leaving an open invitation for Jayden and the rest of LA.

He really just said: Come find out

------------------

Jayden was both relieved and saddened when Trevor was finished with his Song Association. In a very short time, she'd learned a lot about this person she'd never even heard of until that afternoon. As his song had promised, he truly had her beggin for more. The way they interacted and the feelings she felt towards him had grown quickly but it was familiar. It seemed as if they'd already done this dance before. Jayden was trying to figure out how to rationalize this to herself but she couldn't. It was the way that she and Trevor had silently held private conversations in a room with others. Even as they were learning one another, a lot of the pieces already seemed to be connected.

Trevor was filming his spot for Terrell’s outro. It took every ounce of restraint in Jayden not to cackle out loud when he said “I think we’re gonna queue the rain right now. Mm hmm. You feel that? This is not a joke. It’s a motion in your ocean.”

Trevor had made her feel a range of emotions in their time together. Jayden had laughed, she’d pondered a topic or two she’d never fully considered, she’d felt sexy and above all else- she felt noticed. Truly seen. It was a lot. But, the girl was a hustler by nature. So, she was keeping up with each curveball that day had thrown at her.

“Imma run to the restroom” Jayden announced. She wasn’t certain why she felt the need to do so. But it seemed far more courteous than roaming through Terrell’s halls.

“Alright we gotta get ready for you when ya done Miss Jayden!” Terrell called out.

When she returned, there was no Trevor in sight. Just Roxy and Terrell. Jayden wasn’t disappointed for them being there. Although she was a little put off that Trevor had exited so quickly and without saying goodbye? She wasn’t about to let that show though. Sure, she really thought she’d felt a connection with him. But, she wasn’t going to let it get in the way of the single calendar event of her year- outside of her birthweek of course.

“My turn?” Jayden asked as she returned back into the kitchen where the green screen was.

“Mmmhhmm” Terrell affirmed “I just gotta follow you to this res’room. I dun broke my damn seal. Plus, we waitin on Trevuh to finish his call.” As if he heard his queue, the front door opened and Trevor came back in.

“Oh.” Jayden let out. Trevor studied her as Terrell turned towards his restroom. Roxy was on the balcony getting some air and making a call of her own.

She was feening her cool, unbothered mask. But that one syllable had given her away. “What? You thought I left?” he asked.

“I mean you were gone. So, yeah.” Jayden said shrugging her shoulders and throwing her wrist back dismissively.

“Huh.” Trevor stared back quizzically. “I can’t do that just yet. One: I don’t think it’s fair that you got to see mine and I don’t get to see yours and two: I still need to figure out a way to make sure we’re even.”

“Ahh. So you’re stayin?”

“I got a little extra time. Plus, this is definitely worth it. But look, promise me something real quick.”

“Yeah, what’s that?”

“Since you’re so gung-ho on not taking back the money which is owed to you. Let me pay my debt another way.”

“What if I like the notion of Trevor Jackson being forever indebted to me?” The smolder he returned to her made her feel that someone had pressed play on Puddles again. But she simply crossed her arms and cocked her head at him. They were in yet another staring contest.

Trevor let a beat pass as he wound up his pitch in his mind. “Aight, how about-

“Okay. I hope ya’ll enjoyed.. Ya break,” Terrell trailed off as he walked in on the tension that occupied the room. Jayden took a small step back from Trevor. She hadn’t realized that they were all in each other's personal space.

“Yup. I’m ready.” Roxy re-entered from the balcony and grabbed the mic Trevor had used earlier that day to affix to Jayden. “Feel okay?”

“It does.” Jayden said. All of a sudden all of that calm she’d felt left her. She was getting the nerves again. She wasn’t certain if it was because of the game she was going to play or the one she’d been entangled in since she’d laid eyes on Trevor. He himself was still trying to figure out this woman. She had a hard exterior and a beguiling sexual energy that he couldn’t detach himself from. When she sat on that stool allowing Terrell to compliment her outfit and introduce herself a little bit, she radiated. She also had a pretty good voice too for a Shits and Giggles winner.

“I’m mad at you” Terrell said.

“Why?” Jayden

“I hear it. I hear that there in ya throat box. You got them vocals.” Terrell said. “Why you hidin?”

“Ohmygod. Hush. I can hold a tune here and there. But I don’t know about them vocals. I don’t know how to control it.”

Terrell squinted his eyes. “I don’t believe it. Sing that song again. Because you got the emotion. I can tell you feel these songs here. You haf’way there but you too worried about sounded perfect. Let that go.”

Jayden was quick to adapt. She took that advice from Terrell and moments later you could hear the difference. Closing her eyes she tried again

Have you ever found the one

You've dreamed of all of your life

Do just about anything to look into their eyes

Have you finally found the one you've given your heart to

Jayden tried her best not to get into her head about fucking up and pushed the nervousness down within her. Because when she became tense it would lock up her voice and she would miss her mark altogether

Only to find that one won't give their heart to you

She exhaled from her nose and smiled because she’d clearly sounded better than the first time

Have you ever closed your eyes and

Dreamed that they were there

Jayden opened her eyes and stopped. She may not have control; but, she knew her limit

“Now I know you didn’t stop.” Jayden picked up some of the liquid courage Terrell had fixed her. Her coffee was long gone by this point. She couldn’t keep the fear at bay. She didn’t want to make that big of a fool of herself today and have her voice crack like a pre-pubescent teen.

Trevor was taking it all in. She was a whole party when put on the spot and she easily gave off a coolness that made you certain to never cross her. She was not one to be played with. But it was obvious that music opened up another avenue to Jayden. Trevor had seen it when their roles were reversed. She was empathetic to the emotions of whichever song he sang.

Her music taste was eclectic as well. She’d come through with country, gospel, r&b, showtunes and she seemed to have every Chicago rapper’s discography down pat. Trevor was genuinely impressed by her ability to copy and paste an artist’s essence into her own. She was fucking up the game and had songs for every word Terrell threw her way.

“RIGHT R-I-G-H-T” Terrell announced. Jayden glanced a look at Trevor and then she gave her undivided attention to Terrell.

Just stand right here

Let me show you what I'm about

To do to that body

And come down here

Let me show you where to touch my body

Let the foreplay begiiiin

Bet you never had this before

Cause once I go iiiiiiin

I'm gone have you begging for more

Boy, I'm talking right now, right now, right now, yeah

Right now, oh

Can we make some love right now?

Jayden laughed and when she’d finished, there was silence. It was like someone had pressed the mute button in real life. Then the room erupted with noise at once

“UH UH”

“hOw?”

“Whoa whoa whoa” all crashed on top of each other.

“What?” Jayden asked.

“WHAT?! This heffa really just said WHAT? TUH!” Terrell hollered.

“Wait. You said you’d never heard of Trevor before,” said a very baffled Roxy.

“Before a few hours ago, no. I hadn’t.” Roxy said. Jayden gave a shrug in Trevor’s direction.

“But you just sang his song?” Roxy asked

“Yeah. Because I heard him sing it earlier.

“You mean to tell me, that you heard this negro sang that song one time half an hour ago and you committed it to your memory?”

“Yes. I have perfect echoic memory. Obviously I don’t always process this in a way where I can duplicate it perfectly. But, I can mimic it pretty close.”

Trevor finally spoke up. “So when you hear something you can pull up that audio in your mind and not only play it back for yourself but you’ve trained yourself to be able to mimic it almost dead ass spot on?”

“Yeah. That’s pretty much it.” Jayden said as if she’d just read rattled off the day’s weather report. “You’re pretty sharp.” The compliment rolled off of Trevor in his astonished state of mind. Just then, his phone vibrated in his pocket. “Damn” he muttered looking at the screen. “Aite y’all, that’s my cue.” I gotta head out. Just as his mother had done, Trevor said goodbye to everyone individually. He saved Jayden for last. “Good luck Jayden. It was nice meeting you. Matter of fact, let me get your info so I can follow up with you to see if you really get that perfect score” He offered his phone out to her with the keypad pulled up.

“Oh, you already know that I came to win today.” she tapped some buttons and gave him back his phone. Looking down, Trevor realized that she’d followed herself on his Instagram account. She smiled but her eyes only said one word:

Checkmate.

---

TAG LIST: @twistedcharismaaa @mygirlrenee @glittermakesmesmile @sarcastic-sunshines @chaneajoyyy @shewrites02 @ghostfacekill-monger @raysunshine78 @shewritestheblues @scrumptiouslytenaciouscrusade @fd-writes @eyeknowmywrites @thadelightfulone @yoyolovesbucky

Imma update my tag list and this fic soon y’all. Hold me to it.

#shaekingspeaks #trevor jackson #black oc #trevor jackson x oc #fics n shit #Terrell Grice #song association

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spiltscribbles · 5 years

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Notes: One Reblog is worth a thousand stars <3.-

The grandiose brownstone on the upper west side is filled to the brim with guests that Ronan barely recognizes, platters of foods he doesn’t remember ordering, and rounds of drinks he thanks God, Jesus and the Holy Ghost above that never seem to run out.

“Lynch, old boy,” a faintly familiar, boyishly attractive brunette calls from where he’s standing with three other nondescript fucks that Ronan eventually realizes are all from his old preparatory days at Aglionby.

“Wentworth,” Ronan greets with as much welcome as he can muster— a negative four point two on the Gansey scale of charm, but hey, what’s a guy to do. “I presume you’re enjoying yourself?”

“Thoroughly,” he assures with a coquettish little wink that Ronan completely ignores.

“Let me know if that ever changes,” he directs the question to the group as a whole so that Wentworth doesn’t get any bright ideas.

“How’s Declan?” The shortest one asks, all plastered smiles and heaps of blonde hair.

“He’s enjoying DC, says that Matthew is getting on with all his courses.”

“Smart of him to get out of Henrietta,” another of the foursome interjects with a swig of his iced white. “With Greywaren here and all the trouble he’s stirring up.”

“Come now,” Wentworth chides with a dismissing wave of the hand. “Greywaren is who’s keeping us safe from the trouble and all these awful villains. “Wouldn’t you agree Lynch?”

Ronan feels the slightest uptick to his pulse, but doesn’t let anything show, just gives a placid smile and blasé shrug to his shoulder.

“I make it a point not to mingle with politics.”

“Smart chap,” the third one smirks. “Couldn’t tell you how many times the boys on the board told me to keep my trap shut on it.”

Queue round of polite chuckles that Ronan doesn’t partake in.

“You know what isn’t controversial? A donation to the arts.” Ronan tells him.

“A wily one too,” Wentworth laughs. “Well you’ve convinced us Lynch, we’d be happy to help whatever inner city project or museum renovation you’ve got going on.”

“I’ll send Blue over to take the checks,” he tips his glass to them before continuing on strolling through the throng of blank faces, exchanging pleasantries and volleying nods of recognition as if it’s an olympic sport.

Ronan hates every fucking minute of it.

“Poor sour patch,” Blue, five foot nothing and unappreciative of any sort of bullshit, mock croons at him once he finally reaches the foursome, clucking her tongue all the while.

Ronan bares his teeth at her, swats away the hand she’s using to pinch his cheek with a hiss of, “Hop off.”

Blue only laughs ebulliently.

“I fucking hate you.”

“No way to speak to your guests,” Henry toots on Blue’s behalf. “After all, you were just elected Henrietta’s most eligible bachelor, wouldn’t wanna ruin that image with your surly attitude.”

“What would you know Cheng? I sure as fuck don’t remember your name on the list.”

With a role of the eyes, Henry just shoos him away. “Never any bite, I swear.”

“He strolls off to take a call on his pretentious bluetooth, while Noah passes Ronan a fresh flute of the Prosecco.

“You don’t have to keep up the charade you know,” Gansey tells him, popping an appetizer with to many vowels and too little alcohol for Ronan to ever really bother remembering the name of into his mouth. “It’s not as if, ahem. People would ever be made privy to your particular gifts.”

He means the gifts Ronan had inherited from Niall, the ability to dream things and even people and occasionally places into existence. He means the fact that despite the way Ronan dawns a costume with a raven on the chest, he’s in all actuality a dreamer. He dreams his weapons, his vehicles, his everything to use against the bad guys and vigilantes that roam the streets of Henrietta, their city, their home. And some of the things he dreams Declan takes it upon himself to study, to replicate, to cell for the endless fortunes the Lynch name has always been known for. The millions upon millions that Ronan grew up unaware to how his father, a scoundrel and drunk most days, and absent the rest of them, had ever been able to earn.

No, but Ronan still loves him, adores the memory and the man. Niall gave everything to Ronan and he’s going to respect everything Niall planned out, everything he wrote in his will.

“It’s what my father would’ve wanted, complete secrecy,” says Ronan, doubtless.

“Even with the solitude,” asks Gansey, cutting to the heart of his worries with none of his usual attentiveness. Finally tired of beating around the bush like the Gansey way dictates.

Ronan’s about to snarl something back that he’s not proud of, something nasty and vicious and unnecessarily cruel. Maybe about Gansey’s pretentious upbringing, probably something about his tireless efforts to find out what’s caused this explosion of superheroes and super villains in the last half century, definitely also about his piece of shit haircut that makes him look like a douchebag congressman. But Blue must sense it because she interrupts him before Ronan could even part his lips.

“All we’re saying is that we know you’ve got your priorities, but you deserve someone to come home too.”

“It’s so cute that you care,” Ronan snorts, doesn’t mention how this place isn’t home, that it can never stack up to The Barns.

Ronan doesn’t want to build a life here.

“I only care because every group needs the weirdly brooding, emo friend,” Blue says causticly.

Ronan cuffs her on the back of the head and she kicks him in turn.

“Hey tall, dark, and handsome,” Henry calls, abruptly returning with a slight franticness to his gaze. “No time for the juvenile squabbling, there’s a robbery on Appleton and they’re in dyer need of a certain masked hero.”

Ronan remembers the sun kissed skies and tumbling grasslands that painted the landscape of The Barns, his childhood manner, his oasis away from the bustling folks and raucous traffic of the city that the Lynch’s spent a majority of their year trapped within. He remembers the iridescent rosebuds that scattered the front yard and the strawberry fields he’d run through, frolicking with a giggling Matthew and occasionally a surly Declan if Ronan had nudged him outdoors by stealing one of his books or hats or whatever proper, grown up thing he was insistent on mastering for that week.

Most of all, he remembers the way Niall would card an indulgent hand through Ronan’s dark mop of locks while they tread around the trails as he divulged to his middle son all the magical wonders and whimsical secrets of this world, a doting smile on his face while regaling to Ronan stories about brave Irish warriors and lands unexplored, and things unimagined. A dreamer father showing his dreamer child— his favorite child— all the possibilities in his grasp.

“There’s nothing outside your reach Ronan my boy,” Niall, dark haired and sharp jawed and everything Ronan idealized, had boomed in his deep baritone. “You could do anything as long as you can imagine it, dream it. Omnium rum principia parva sunt.”

“The beginnings of all things are small,” Ronan, pint sized and open faced and infallibly kind hearted, had beamed up to his father, pleased that the Latin courses Niall had insisted upon were sticking.

“Oy, attaboy,” Niall had crowed, swinging on his shoulder a laughing Ronan, a Ronan who believed in the untarnished truth of his father’s words.

But then Ronan hit sixteen, and Niall was murdered and the Barns were sanctioned from anyone visiting and everything had fallen apart in a matter of days.

The BMW hums beneath his grasp as Ronan sores through the streets of Henrietta, blanketed in darkness and buzzing with danger.

“It’s at the Sheffield’s lake house,” Gansey patches in through the minuscule communication device Henry had created for them to use. “They’re big supporters of mothers campaign.”

“Oh how darling,” Ronan says in a deadpan. “We should invite them over for high tea, less we look gauche.”

“I’ll ignore the sarcasm due to this being a stressful situation and all,” Gansey harrumphs from the other end. “Noah will be there taking pictures for the paper and Henry’s sending over the address right now. Stay safe.”

“always am.”

“Now we both know that isn’t true.”

Ronan screeches to a stop in front of one of the more posh houses the city has to offer— all high gates and wide partitions and a fountain of a baby angel spitting out water while balancing on one foot— greeted by a middle aged woman in pink chiffon raving to a fearful looking officer about hooligans and dirty thugs and irreplaceable diamonds handed down to her through generations. Though Ronan doesn’t bother to stop and listen to her sulking once he catches the barest trace of a yellow cape slinking into the shadows out of sight.

He pounces.

“Fifteen minutes and twenty-three seconds,” the dude in a yellow cape tsks (all the while sporting the world’s most infuriating half grin that Ronan can’t help but appreciate if only for the esthetic) once Ronan finally catches up to him on the edge of the woods skirting against the water. He’s smaller than Ronan, but not by much, and agile as all get out if those amateur parkour stunts weren’t just an illusion. “getting rusty are we? It’s been a while since Henrietta’s seen anything more than a chump vigilante I suppose?”

His voice is low but has got this almost musical cadence to it. Ronan would’ve sworn he was a local if the subtle drawl was anything to go by.

“And who, pray tell, the fuck are you,” Ronan snarls out, stepping closer with his most menacing glower.

The guy in yellow and red just snorts, unimpressed, while he leaps backwards onto a tree branch… But no, it’s like the tree branch was waiting for him. No not even that, like it reached out for him to hop on, like he was the sun and the tree was responding to his very presence.

“Unimportant, but I know who you are Greywaren.”

“NO fuck, everyone knows me,” Ronan spits.

“Not the real you,” he counters. “But that’s why I’m here.”

Ronan is over the small talk, even if the guy’s got an admittedly attractive voice, he taps on the heels of the shoes he had dreamt and begins to shoot upwards, but the messed up thing is that the guy seems to have been expecting it, and with just a flick of the wrist another branch swings out and smacks Ronan down like a pesky fly.

“What. The. Fuck.” Ronan manages out with labored breaths as he stands back up.

“Anyone ever tell you that you’re a real let down Mr Greywaren, because you sure are,” Yellow Cape says with a faux yawn, stretching out to his full six feet while still standing on the branch. He looks like the fucking Fairy Folk in the storybooks Matthew had once insisted Ronan read to him before bed. “Well I’d love to stay and chat but I better get out of your hair and get some bank for my buck.”

“I’ll show you where to shove your buck.”

“Scandalous,” yellow cape sniffs, bored sounding. “ oh and before I forget, Greenmantle sends their hellos.”

In an instance everything freezes.

That word.

Greenmantle.

Flashes of blood and darkness and Niall’s too pale face accented by a wretched slash to his forehead.

The name carved in blood.

Greenmantle.

Ronan’s veins turn to ice and his chest contracts, and by the time he comes to yellow cape is already gone and Ronan is awash with the sorts of memories he ordinarily keeps securely locked away.

“Greenmantle, are you sure he said that precise name?” Henry asks for the umpteenth time since Ronan came back empty handed and with a major life revelation the night of the Sheffield robbery.

“Yes Cheng,” Ronan seethes, tugs on the tie that feels like it’s choking him.

“You look insane,” Blue toots, goes on her tiptoes to adjust it once more. “Now let’s just take deep breaths, being in public and all.”

Ronan still isn’t sure just how Gansey had convinced them all to attend the Tribune’s annual fundraiser, only remembering a lot of “getting on the insides” and “copious amounts of alcohol,s” thrown around, and a couple, “you get to tease uppity know it alls who trash the Greywaren for a living,” sprinkled on top just for good measure.

But still, Ronan hates it.

“So he’s back then, finishing off what he started.” Noah surmises.

“Did we ever truly know what exactly he wanted? Erm, aside from the Lynch family’s demise.”

Ronan glares and Henry just winces, apologetic.

“Noah you think you can get anymore intel on Greenmantle possibly leaving Boston? That was last where we tracked him, right?” Blue asks, head cocked.

“I’m on it,” Noah says while literally pulling out his phone and wandering off to a discrete corner to do whatever it is that he does that gets invasively detailed reports on literally anyone with a social security number.

“Let’s cut the conversation there, Gansey’s coming with that delicious looking friend of his,” Henry warns, causing Blue and Ronan to turn around at the same time to catch on a beaming Gansey promenading towards them with decidedly less sunny company. Company with sea glass eyes and effortlessly ruffled hair that falls unevenly on the left side of his forehead and cheekbones that can literally cut timber.

“Ronan, you’re gonna catch flies,” blue goads, shit eating grin on her face and something like amusement etched into Gansey’s own all the way across the aisle, as if he knows exactly what she had said. Leave it to those freaks to create the world’s first telepathic connection out of the power of their gross as love.

“You’re fired from both my friendship and your job,” Is all Ronan tells her, tries to look distracted by anyone that isn’t the literal incarnation of Prince Philip walking ever nearer… Erm shut the fuck up, Ronan only knows that certain prince because of Matthew when he went through his Disney phase… And well, Arora really liked those sorts of cartoons when she was bringing up her boys.

Gansey dives down to kiss Blue just as soon as they came close enough, and Henry bugged off to go flirt up some poor soul on the catering staff, which leaves it so he and Adam have got some semblance of privacy… Which Ronan doesn’t care about at all.

“Lynch,” Adam says, mouth curled ever so slightly, giving him a thin lipped smile. “How’s it going.”

“My life is a fucking summer day,” Ronan replies with probably too much glaring.

“So that nasty looking bruise on your jaw?”

“For the esthetic.”

“Think you missed bad ass and landed on kid who gets too many nose bleeds during gym class.”

“Know that look from experience Parrish?”

He shrugs, unaffected.

“I was always captain, so can’t say so.”

“Cocky little fuck,” Ronan hisses, making it so Adam’s face finally brightens ten fold and he lets out a breathy— blink and you’ll miss it— laugh. He’s got these insane dimples that never fail to make Ronan’s stomach tie itself into knots, and makes it so his heart stutter with pleasure and always, always fuels him to try and make them pop out just one more time…. But erm, that means nothing. Whatever Blue or Gansey, or Noah— Especially Henry— Whatever they say whatever stupid little ticks his body goes through, it means nothing towards what he feels for Adam. Which for the record, at best, is irritated exasperation veiled with a thin layer of indifferent acquaintanceship, considering Gansey has regarded the bloke as a brother since their first night as roommates back in college.

“You wanna grab a drink or will it hurt too much with the injury and all?”

“Shut the fuck up or I’ll make it so your shitting teeth for the next month.”

“Kinky.”

“Jesus, Mary and Joseph, Ronan’s doomed.

“So far the pattern seems to be wealthy, careless and dumb,” Blue says from where she’s hanging upside-down on the couch in Ronan’s den that’s been commandeered for any Greywaren business.

“You just read that off of Parrish’s article in the Tribune this week,” Henry toots, flipping through the aforementioned news report about who’s been labeled as The Magician.

“He’s a smart cookie,” Blue relents, having always been partial to Parrish since first meeting him years ago at one of the ridiculous “family dinners,” Gansey holds every Friday evening, instead of doing something more par for the course for adults their age, namely getting blackout drunk and dancing at sleazy clubs. (

Gansey had just stepped into Monmouth , blasé as all get out with Adam only a few feet behind him, and had gestured his way with the introduction. “This’s Adam, he’s a genius reporter and a great man. Even’s got a photo of him and Lois Lane pinned to his desk at the Tribune.”

Adam in turn smiled self deprecatingly, his cheeks flushed prettily. “She spoke at a rally our freshman year, just got lucky I suppose.”

“Oh my God! I love her!” Blue had squawked, eyes bright. “She’s right between Wonder Woman and Angela Davis on my wall of inspirational women.”

“Some wall,” Adam said wryly.

“I thought that was a wall of ladies you wouldn’t mind pegging,” Ronan had interrupted just to be a shit.

“Lynch, I’m not afraid to kill in cold blood.”

If that interaction hadn’t scared Adam off, Ronan supposes he shouldn’t be surprised that nothing had, that now he’s as internal to this little ragtag crew of Henriettas saving graces as any of them, even if he doesn’t have the slightest clue of their night gigs.

“We could ask him about the Magician,” Gansey offers, lips pursed and hopeful glint to his big, caff like eyes. Ronan knows that he— that all of them— hate lying to Adam, to evade his questions and avoid his calls whenever things are particularly insane, but it’s better this way. If it was up to Ronan none of them would be stuck in this dangerous business. Gansey is here because he had been brought up with Ronan, quite literally brothers in everything but blood. He knew what Niall was, what Ronan is. He knows the importance of the Barns and the danger of Greenmantle, Ronan couldn’t have lied to him about this if he tried. Noah was already privy to the forces of good and evil warring it out in this seemingly inconsequential city right out of DC, had been the one to approach Ronan as Greywaren first, to cultivate a bond that soon transformed into a partnership and now friendship. Henry’s family worked to provide the pieces for the technology that the original dreamer wanted replicated, for Niall, and it only made sense that when Niall had ever so unceremoniously past the mantel off to Ronan, that Seondeok did the same for Henry.

To this day Ronan isn’t quite sure how Blue squirmed her way into everything, only that she’s the daughter of a well renowned psychic that they consulted with once on a case, and she had right then, chin tipped high and a deeply embedded resilience in her gaze, had informed them all that she’d be joining their efforts. A few years later, falling in love with Gansey and officially hired to lead all knew projects for Lynch Charity, in between, Ronan can’t imagine doing all this without her scrappy self.

But that’s all besides the point. Ronan never wants to be the cause of them hurting, them in danger. He’s seen what could happen to someone if they take one wrong move, saw it splayed out with Niall’s blood and matted hair and sickly pillar that still haunts Ronan’s nightmares most nights.

Ronan’s gonna prevent that from ever happening again to anyone he loves, even if that means he has to prevent any of the aforementioned teammates from joining his chases, or if it means he has to lie to Adam’s face. To pretend as if he doesn’t see the way Adam’s begun barricading himself from them bit by bit, well aware that there’s something dividing them all from him.

Ronan would rather see Adam furious at him, than never getting to see the particular shade of forget me not blue that colors his irises, ever again.

The choice is simple.

“No.” He tells Gansey, not leaving an ounce of room for rebuttal.

“He’s a Pulitzer Prize nominated Journalist Ronan, in layman’s terms that means he’s great at figuring things out,” Gansey says with the worn patience of someone who’s hashed out this argument a thousand times before. “It’s improbable that he hasn’t already begun suspecting the truth already.”

“It’s dangerous.”

“I’m sure he could handle himself.”

“No,” Ronan repeats, voice resounding.

“Okay, no time,” Noah cuts in shortly, fingers tapping an agitated staccato against the keyboard of his desktop. “There’s a robbery on Madison Avenue and people are saying it’s our little, yellow caped friend.”

“Stay safe,” Gansey says— like he always does— and Ronan says that he will, like he always does— and the tension between them breaks, for now at the very least, like it always does.

Ronan’s day job, as Declan had once oh so kindly put it, is to stay pretty and give a good face to the brand. “You’re a shit and I know that, but maybe if no one has to talk to you and just sees that you’ve got the same smile as Dad did, they won’t find out for themselves.” Declan had earned a swift right hook for that one, but was probably expecting it considering the dodge and the lecture on anger management he had suffered Ronan through for the next hour.

All this to say, Ronan doesn’t really have a day job. He occasionally visits The Barns— never crossing the threshold but just looking from afar at all he’s fighting to get back— Other times, if he’s not nursing a hangover or injury from the night before, Ronan would drive out to Dc and pull Matthew from classes to get lunch and maybe catch a movie. Though more often than not, Ronan ends up at one of the numerous Lynch owned real-estates, specifically the one where the entire top floor is rented out by the second largest paper in the fucking tri-state area. The fact that a majority of his friends happen to work there is pure coincidence and it would be slanderous to allude otherwise.

“You enjoy our company,” Noah taunts, camera dangling from his neck and face split with a bright smile.

“Fuck you.”

“You do though,” he beams, impervious.

“Noah I swear to fucking God.”

“Ah, so the prodigal son has returned,” Adam, looking like a fucking professional in his button down and tie, greets one particular Thursday afternoon when Ronan shows up for the first time that week. It’s been a difficult one for him, with the news that Greenmantle is most certainly not in Boston anymore, but also undetectable anywhere else on the continental United States, coupled with the series of robberies from more and more of the city’s wealthiest, surely by no other than that fucking yellow cape— The Magician— It’s just been really fucking exhausting.

Ronan will go to his grave before admitting that just catching sight of Adam here, now… It kind of makes him breathe a little easier, even if there’s a cut right under Adam’s chin and his stance is woven with a certain fatigue one can only recognize with experience.

He suddenly remembers talking to one of Adam’s old school friends, a petite blonde who looked at an oblivious Adam with hearts in her eyes. He members her telling him just how Adam had lost the hearing in his left ear, how it was merely a tipping point from a long building cycle of abuse. Ronan thinks of how gutted he feels looking at how haggard Adam looks right now, and can’t imagine knowing him back when fucking Robert Parrish was still apart of his life.

But he shakes that all off, offers Adam a snide half grin like he’’s probably expecting.

“Missed me sugar dumpling,” Ronan jeers in an overdone accent to mock Adam’s subtle one, vowels rounded and snatching away the g.

“It was quieter,” is all Adam says, and if Ronan doesn’t know better he would’ve taken that as a compliment teetering on flirtatious instead of one of Adam’s deadpan observations.

And oh, that’s interesting.

“I’ve always been known for my stimulating conversational skills,” Ronan nods sagely, leaning against Adam’s desk with his arms wrapped across his chest, enjoying it probably a little too much how Adam’s peering up at him with his bright eyes through his spider leg lashes.

Sometimes, just sometimes— just when Adam looks at him like Ronan could be the brightest part of his day— Ronan feels like he’s standing on the precipice of something with him, something that makes his chest stutter and stomach tumble itself into knots. Like Adam’s air and Ronan’s finally breathing. But also that’s a ridiculous notion because in all the years they’ve known each other Adam’s never made a move, not one that Ronan could discern at least, and he just needs to not fall into some ridiculous folly.

“Oh I’m sure,” he snorts.

“You wanna grab lunch? Leo’s having a half off if you buy two sale.”

“I don’t eat gluten.”

“I saw you scarf down a bowl of pasta at the mayor’s shitty dinner literally last weekend,” Ronan accuses, incredulous and only slightly affronted.

“Fine,” Adam breathes out. “Then I don’t eat gluten that’s meant to distract me from my work.”

“Fuck off.”

“Can’t do that either.”

Ronan seriously thinks he might hate Adam, if it wasn’t for the fact that he most certainly does not.

“You don’t have to like work yourself ragged just to prove a point you know, just because you’re the newest print journalist doesn’t mean you’re the least talented.” Ronan tells him, gruff sounding and avoiding his gaze at all costs. “That’s obviously Tad.”

Adam stays quiet for too long, so Ronan braces himself and turns around, not expecting Adam to be pinning Ronan with a one eyed squint, like he’s sizing him up. Like Ronan’s some sort of jigsaw puzzle he can never quite figure out.

“Kay, let’s go,” he says, slow and cautious as he shuts his laptop and slinks on his jacket. Ronan is only partially surprised that he actually listened, usually it takes a whole lot more cross looks and prodding at and about ten times more profanities for Adam to even consider stop working on some new story or the other that he’s particularly passionate about.

“Good,” Ronan huffs in as flat of a tone he can muster. “But I fucking hate subs so we’re not going to Leo’s.”

Adam sighs, long suffering. “You were born to be contrary Lynch.”

“’S what Declan says, but he doesn’t know shit.”

“As opposed to you? Oh great arbiter of all knowledge.” Adam retorts, making it so Ronan’s mouth dips into a small, reluctant smile.

“Precisely.”

Their eyes connect at that moment, ice blues boring into a twilight night sky sparkling with kisses of starlight. Ronan can hear his heart beat in his ears and his throat lodge with emotions he can’t place quite yet.

It’s Adam who breaks it, averting his gaze and clearing his throat, adjusting his papers on the desk just to make it as seemingly natural as possible.

“Mexican, Mexican’s never bad. And hey I get a chance to hear you fail at rolling your Rs.”

Ronan glowers.

“Piss off.”

So they go, Ronan orders a meat stuffed burrito and Adam orders the special and Ronan doesn’t talk about all the gluten Adam’s eating and they most definitely do not talk about what may or may not have past between them.

It’s fine. It’s normal. He’s good.

Ronan’s got a lot of other shit to be worrying about without this maybe something he’s been harboring for Adam since before they even really knew each other, and it shouldn’t change just because Adam seems to be finally joining him in this strange little dance, stumbling together around this tiny flame that may or may not have sparked to life.

It’s fine. it’s normal. He’s good.

“I’m figuring out who Greywaren is,” Adam answers Ronan’s inquiry on what story’s got him so on edge and everything freezes over.

It’s not fine. It’s not normal. And Ronan is sure as fuck not good.

“He’s swung onto Hamilton Boulevard,” Blue tells Ronan, almost frantic, through the headphone set.

Ronan finally gets the fucking Magician in eye sight, watching as he slips into the maze of downtown apartments.

“Good, no fucking trees,” Ronan hisses while swerving off the road and chasing after him by foot, eventually landing on a rooftop. It’s the sixth encounter they’ve had in as many weeks so Ronan thinks he’s finally starting to ware him down, or at least beginning to figure out his arsenal of techniques. He knows that the moment he lands on that roof The Magician will just leap to the next one and the one after that until he finally loses Ronan in the dust.

But this time the Magician doesn’t know about the little pouch of a Ronan Lynch original that’s clacking around on his belt.

“Isn’t there more important shit you should be chasing after?” The Magician growls out, leaping to the next roof in the row and rolling his landing— smooth fuck.

“Isn’t there better ways you can be earning money besides stealing it?” Ronan counters, right on his tale.

“Like those old farts would miss’m,” The Magician scoffs, thin lips pinched into an infuriatingly attractive pout. “There are kids starving in this city, you know that Greywaren?”

“So what? You some fucking reincarnation of Robin Hood?” Ronan spits out.

“He was a fictional character, so that’d be impossible,” The Magician pivots around so quickly that Ronan is caught off guard, especially when he pulls out a bow and arrow and shoots it with deadly precision, tearing Ronan’s cape right off and sticking it to the wall behind them.

“But the bow is a favorite of mine.”

Ronan clenches his teeth in frustration.

“Look I don’t give a fuck about you getting your jollies from stealing from old, rich fucks. Not really.”

“Then why the hell do you keep pursuing me?” The Magician charges, never flinching from his stance or losing his aim directed right at Ronan’s chest.

“Greenmantle,” he grits out, like broken glass ripping his throat to shreds and piercing his tongue and lips as it escapes in a fury of blood and guts and abandonment. “You said that name when we first met.”

“Yeah, and so what?”

“What do you mean so what!” Ronan bellows, hates how this vigilante fuck is so blasé about the one person that makes it feel like Ronan’s insides are burning up and dying right alongside everything else when Niall had past. With his mother and the Barns and the memories and the ease of just existing to exist instead of searching for some existential meaning behind it all. “How do you even know Greenmantle?”

The Magician just shrugs, for the first time in all the weeks he’s been clashing against Ronan his face betrays his typical impassivity and actually looks cautious, curious— unsure.

“Greenmantle’s the one who asked me to figure out who you are, paid me like a ridiculous sum of money for it.”

“And why do you think Greenmantle wants me so badly!”

“Fuck if I know, some blood feud between the wealthy and powerful. I don’t care, it’s not my business.”

“Fuck off,” Ronan steps closer, but the Magician remains stock-still, weapon poised to be wielded. “I know it was you who stopped that armed robbery last weekend at the bank, and you saved that bus collision with your creepy voodoo one with the trees, powers.”

This time the Magician’s lips curl into acute disapproval, he’s irritated by Ronan calling him out. Ronan thinks that it should be disconcerting that he could get so much from a simple reading of his mouth, but also it’s the only feature he can see on his face, so it isn’t that creepily invested.

“I don’t put people in danger, just steal from the oblivious and wealthy.”

“You’re not a bad guy,” Ronan surmises, has known that for a while now. “Don’t get mixed up in Greenmantle’s shit. They’re bad people, really bad.”

The magician sinks his teeth into his bottom lip, flickers his focus to something right above Ronan’s shoulder, like he was considering his words in a meaningful kind of way.

“How do I know that you’re not just lying to me. That Greenmantle isn’t justified for whatever slight you’ve done to them.”

“There’s a reason why you haven’t really tried figuring me out, you don’t want to help them.” Ronan needles.

“Don’t try to psychoanalyze me.”

“It’s true, you feel it. you know they aren’t safe.”

“Tell me why I should trust you,” is all the Magician says, waspish.

Ronan wants to shout, to pull out his hair and just scream. He wants to tell the Magician that he didn’t commit some sort of fucking obscene offense to’m, that Greenmantle just knows what he can do and wants to control it, control him. But Ronan’s suddenly too tired and too frustrated and too so many things that he can’t even fathom parsing out the right words to convince him. Instead, Ronan just picks out one of the seeds in his pouch and throws it into the Magician’s sandy hair, ducking when the first arrow is released.

“What the fuck was that?”

“Why can’t you fucking just listen to me!” Ronan says instead of answering. “Greenmantle is fucking evil.”

“You missed anyways douche,” the Magician snarls out, pulling another arrow from his sheath.

Ronan lets out a little, dark laugh at that, standing up to his full height. “Haven’t you ever heard that the beginnings of all things are small?”

The Magician’s face goes very flat, completely unimpressed.

“Now who’s speaking in shitty voodoo riddles?”

Fuck, Ronan hates how much he enjoys waging words with him.

“It’s not voodoo,” Ronan says in an admittedly cryptic voice.

“What the fuck!” The magician suddenly balks. Ronan reckons it’s because of the ropes knitting themselves around him over frustration about his comment.

“You won’t listen, so I’m turning you in.”

“Screw you!” he yells, face bright with feeling.

“Jail’s better than if you accidentally get on Greenmantle’s bad side,” Ronan informs him magnanimously, dark head tilted in an admittedly Declan way.

“You are such a piece of shit.”

“Could say the same to you sweetheart,” Ronan sniffs, is taken aback at the unexpected prickling to his side.

“What—“

He looks up to find the Magician tearing through the ropes that look like they’ve been completely unwound. He looks a bit closer to find the hundreds of small spikes prickling its circumference.

“Is that—“

“A pine,” Magician scoffs, lets out a new round to pierce into Ronan’s side with a mere snap of his finger.

“How the fuck can you even do that!”

The Magician doesn’t answer, just bolts over to Ronan with a swift kick to the opposite side from the needles, rendering him defenseless, and runs off just as soon as the sirens come within hearing distance. All Ronan could do is watch the night swallow him whole.

Ronan is bothered and disgruntled and pissed off— even more than usual. It’s why he’s sulking in a dark corner, peevish as all get out, while there’s like a hundred guests invading his family home in the city, here to celebrate Declan’s thirtieth and also probably just to make Ronan hate life that bit more.

He can’t believe he let the Magician go that easily, and now that he is actually mad at Ronan who knows what he’ll do now to actually figure him out, bring’m to Greenmantle just so they could finish the job and kill off all the Lynch dreamers.

“Fuck.”

“Language,” a far too familiar voice reproofs with no heat, making Ronan jolt back to watch as Adam strolls towards him.

“You’re here?” Ronan says, floundered as he stares at the way his shoulders move just right in that blazer. God he’s beautiful.

“You should really consider asking Gansey for a job, your observational skills are truly top notch,” Adam says in a decidedly sardonic tone.

“Asshole,” Ronan huffs, excepting the drink Adam offers him.

“You seemed in a funk all week, thought you’d need the moral support for a party literally meant to celebrate your brother.”

Ronan looks away, tries not to look so gleeful that Adam came here specifically— solely— to cheer up Ronan.

“You thought I’d want your company over any of these pricks,” Ronan says just to keep up pretenses— Admittedly a bit to afraid of the outcome if he starts to let them slide and just begins to babble out loud all the stupid thoughts clamoring in his mouth and chest and mind whenever around Adam. The way his chest blooms with something splendid and the blossoms taking shelter in his ribcage. Though Adam seems to be having completely contradictory thoughts, because all he does is shrug— almost defiant.

“I thought you’d like my company yes,” he says blithely, as if he were reading a weather forecast or some shit.

“Whatever,” Ronan says instead of telling him he’s right. But Adam takes it as is with a diffident little smile and stepping that much nearer, good ear tipped towards Ronan.

“You wanna get out of the crowd? Show me around this place?”

Ronan does not swallow down, not for any particular reason at least, like how maybe to the untrained ear that could’ve past as a come on.

That is not a thing that happens! He’s not some Bella Swan type swooning over a cute boy he’s pretty sure is the one. That’s not happening! Ronan is not doing that!

“Yeah, sure. Whatever.”

Adam’s answering smile is radiant. And Ronan fucking hates himself for even knowing that word.

“It’s huge…. Ah erm, your house I mean,” Adam coughs a little and Ronan’s absolutely ecstatic for the turning tables.

“Dad use to say that if we weren’t at our palace we still should live like kings, and my mom just indulged all his stupid whims,” Ronan explains, wistful.

“The Barns,” Adam says, slow and cautious, probably knowing that it’s a touchy subject but still curious. “That’s your palace, right?”

“Mmhmm,” Ronan nods, stops in front of a mantel underscoring a risibly large portrait of Niall and Arora, the pair of them juxtaposing completely but still both so etherial that it would be preposterous to ever imagine one without the other.

Beautiful and rugged. golden and dark. careless and careful.

Ronan feels a sudden, acute pang to his chest. Jesus Christ does he miss them.

“They’re beautiful,” Adam marvels, pinky touching the side of Ronan’s hand ever so tenderly from besides him. “You look exactly like your father.”

“Yeah… I’ve been told that.”

They stand there, in the silence, for a little longer— Ronan isn’t quite sure how much time past, a minute or hour, but it feels quiet. For the first time Ronan feels quiet and at peace when he looks at this portrait, and he isn’t sure if it’s a good sign that he’s finally starting to mend, or a bad one that says Greenmantle will soon cause him to join them on the other side.

Eventually, Ronan turns over— apologetic— To Adam, is surprised when he finds him staring with intense interest on the words carved into the frame.

“Omnium rum principia parva sunt,” Ronan reads out loud. “It means—“

“The beginnings of all things are small,” Adam says, mechanically, disbelievingly, confusedly.

“You know the quote then,” Ronan asks, is struck dumb when Adam’s ordinarily bright and methodical eyes flicker to him as if in a trance.

“No, not really. Just heard of it recently.”

Ronan nods, it being answer enough. “You wanna meet Chainsaw?”

“Chainsaw?” Adam repeats, finally appearing to come to his own again.

Ronan cocks his head, silently telling Adam to follow suit, and he does.

“It’s a bird…”

“She’s a raven,” Ronan huffs. “Now who’s got wicked observational skills?”

Adam’s face goes a bit pale, looking excruciatingly uncomfortable as he just nods along to Ronan, not even bothering to snipe back.

“Yeah sure, of course she is.”

He finishes feeding Chainsaw and leads Adam back to his nearby room, pretending his skin isn’t squirming with anticipation.

“Is this how you court all your dates?” Adam asks, teasing unassuming all at once, a masterpiece of contradictions Ronan could spend an eon trying to parse out and wouldn’t grow tired.

“Is that what this is?” Ronan asks, tentative while sitting down besides him on the bed.

“Dunno,” Adam shrugs. “’S what I wanted it to be, reckoned you weren’t gonna make a move for another five years.”

Ronan’s face goes blotchy, and Adam’s laugh is something musical.

“You’re enjoying this.” Ronan huffs.

“You’re precious,” Adam preens, cupping Ronan’s cheek in earnest and slanting his lips against Ronan’s own, and suddenly all the muted grays of this poor substitute of The barns transform to vivid, screaming color. It’s slow and cautious at first but melts into something more, something so much more. It feels like nights racing in the BMW, and days running around the Barns as a kid, wild and free. It feels like sun kissed skies and when his cold fingers begin to thaw at the fire place. It feels like remembering and discovering and just knowing.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for like a year,” Adam admits, bashful, once they finally part, hot tendrils of breath skirting against Ronan’s lips and soft hands caressing his cheeks.

“Try. Like. three of them.” Ronan counters, punctuating his words with a kiss to Adam’s collar bone, the hinge of his jaw, the tops of his cheekbones.

He can do this, Adam wants him to do this. This is a thing that they’re doing.

“Jesus Ronan,” Adam says in an almost wine, snaking his hands beneath Ronan’’s shirt and splaying out his fingers greedily. “That’s like since we met?”

“I know.”

Adam swoops down so that their lips are moving against each other once more, and everything feels golden.

But it all goes to an abrupt halt when he feels Adam’s long fingers skimming his still bruised side and he sucks in a breath.

“Still tender,” he winces.

Adam pulls back, as if he’s been scorched.

“I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Ronan assures, only a bit pissy that the kissing has stopped— he liked the kissing. “Just a little sore spot.” His shirt rises up enough to give Adam a clear view of the still healing spot, is confused when his face goes a sickly green and he pulls away even further.

“What’s up Parrish?” Ronan asks, sitting up right alongside him.

“That… That looks like a kick. A hard one.”

Ronan kinks up his brows, teasing.

“So I swung back to bad ass or still a nerd with nose bleeds?”

“That’s a kick,” is all Adam repeats, like he’s gone mad.

“Yeah Parrish, I got in a fight. Don’t sweat, it comes with the territory of buzz cuts and leather jackets. Wouldn’t expect you to know Mr All America.”

“A fight,” Adam says, slow and confounded. His lips moving around the words and his face still blanched, a decidedly unhealthy hue spreading across his soft features.

“Parrish you okay?”

“I gotta— I gotta go.” He says, scrambling off the bed and straightening his clothes. Ronan feels distinctly like being left high and dry.

“Now? You have to leave now?”

“Yes, now. Immediately.”

“Okay… Gimme a minute to find my keys, I’ll drive you back to yours.”

“I want to walk,” Adam declines, already racing out the door.

“Woah, did I do something wrong?”

“No, nothing,” Adam says, face being tugged into a whole array of emotions before landing on a dangerously blank expression that Ronan’s never been able to read for shit.

Adam goes and Ronan’s confused and the house is still filled with fucking annoying ass guests.

“You’re upset,” Blue says, blunt as ever.

“You’re annoying,” Ronan counters, snappish.

“It’s gotta due with Adam doesn’t it,” She charges, hands flying to her hips and looking more like Maura than Ronan could’ve ever expected.”’S why he’s called in sick to work for the past week and you’ve been more crass than usual.”

“Fuck off,” Ronan hisses, doesn’t look away from where they’re perched atop one of the higher buildings of Henrietta, perfect view to both its polished corners and seedy underbelly.

“I’m right, aren’t I,” Blue presses, but Ronan doesn’t bother to engage. “Just admit it!”

“So what if you are?”

“God, you both are such idiots.”

Ronan flips her the bird only just catching a flash of yellow ducking into an alleyway.

“Not the fuck today,” he hisses out morosely. “Call me on the bee,” he tells Blue before pouncing down and chasing after him.

He doesn’t hear her respond, doesn’t really hear anything. He only comes back to focus when the alleyway ends and he’s looking at The Magician standing rigid in front of St Agnes.

“You’re a dreamer,” He says with no fanfare, not accusing but not happy about it either.

“Wh—“

“”s why Greenmantle wants you.”

“Not exactly Nancy Drew,” Ronan mutters out, circling him cautiously.

“He killed your father, he’s the one who sent the hit on Niall.”

In an instance everything goes red, Ronan’s ears roaring with unadulterated fury.

Like a bullet, Ronan tackles into The Magician, hand wrapped around his neck and noses brushing against each other.

“how the fuck do you know that name,” he asks with heavy breaths.

“Greenmantle killed your father and he wants to kill you next because of some sort of vendetta against the Lynches.” Yellow cape manages out, barely breathing with Ronan’s hand still clasped tightly around his neck.

“Tell me how you know the name Niall?” He barks out, squeezing even harder. Though Ronan is confused when the magician doesn’t even try fighting back.

“I know you Ronan, it’s me.”

Everything stutters to a stop, and Ronan’s grasp begins to subside.

“You know my name? How do you know my name?”

“Because it’s me, It’s Adam.”

The world’s gone inside out, and flipped upside down and Ronan’s let go of the Magician— of Adam— and is across the yard once more, stunned silent as he watches as the Magician sheds off the yellow mask to reveal a familiar mop of sandy hair and night blue eyes and a tiny little dent over his top lip that Ronan’s never asked about but has always wondered if it had to do with the way he holds himself with caution strung into his stance. And absolutely nothing makes sense at all.

“Ad—Adam,” he balks.

“It’s a long story,” is all he says, completely glum.

“When did you— How did you—“

“Only the other night when we were in your room,” his cheeks go a fetching red at the memory and Ronan yearns to go back to that moment of tranquility before all of this. “I couldn’t believe it, but when I finally figured it out, it all made sense.”

“How— How did you.”

“Look Ronan— Or, erm … Greywaren, there’s no time to explain any of this right now.”

“Why the hell not,” Ronan snarls, tries to feel an appropriate amount of fear, but hates how he’ll probably always feel safe and secure when around fucking Adam Parrish, no matter who he’s dressed as.

“The Greenmantle you know, Colin, he’s dead.” Ronan balks, but Adam just steamrolls over it, continues on speaking with clipped words and a franticness Ronan doesn’t understand quite yet.”it’s his wife you need to worry about, Piper. She’s the one who hired me and has been looking for you, she wants to avenge him like some sort of Harley Quin esthetic.”

“I have no fucking idea what you’re saying.” Ronan informs him grimly.

“You don’t need to understand, just dream.” Adam tells him, thrusts out a manilla envelope to him and waits for Ronan to open it up and read its contents.

“Excuse me?”

“Read it. memorize it, Dream it.” Adam tells him.

“You want me to frame Greenmantle for some pretty heinous shit.”

“You want her taken out, don’t you,” Adam charges.

“How do you know I can even create this shit in my head?” Ronan asks, brows furrowed.

“I have faith,” Adam says with a seriousness etched into his features Ronan’s never seen. “And you’ve got fuel.”

“fuel?”

“Shit won’t be safe until she’s gone, if you ask me, I reckon that’s all your dad intended, for you and your brothers to be safe. I reckon that’s why he barred you guys from the Barns in the first place. Piper’s been there like a thousand times, the dream energy at The Barns is heavy, like a ley line all it’s own. But when the dangers gone, you can make it your palace again.”

“That’s detailed,” Ronan says slowly, still so totally confused.

“I’ve had a week to figure it all out, and this’s the only full proof plan I’ve got.” Adam tells him.

Ronan bores his eyes into Adam’s own, finds something he recognizes as quintessentially Adam Parrish in them, and feels that quiet again he did a week ago at Declan’s birthday party.

He feels sure.

“Okay, I’ll play along.”

“Good,” the ends of Adam’s lips curve up into a smile and Ronan feels like he’s finally gotten the answer right.

They’re back sitting side by side on Adam’s desk, a newspaper in Ronan’s grasp announcing the arrest of Piper Greenmantle.

“You’re preening,” Adam mildly notes.

“I feel…. Free,” Ronan says, far too vulnerable for such a open place.

“I’m glad,” Adam says, voice shimmering with sincerity as he stands up. “Promise me you’ll take care of yourself, that you’ll always feel that.”

Ronan eyes him, confused.

“Sounds like a goodbye to me,” Ronan accuses, and Adam just shrugs.

“I’ve made a mess of everything, you almost got hurt, seriously hurt.”

“You didn’t know,” Ronan contends.

“I was flippant,” Adam corrects. “But she’s gone now, and you’re going to be safe, so it feels like the right point for me to maybe start fresh too.”

“No,” Ronan says.

“Excuse me?”

“You’re a good guy Adam, and that’s more than most people. People either suck or are awful… You’re not, you’re good.”

Adam frowns.

“You’re wrong.”

“I’m not,” Ronan stands up, wraps a hand around one of Adam’s slender wrists. “You’re good and you’re bold and you’re a genius and if it weren’t for you I’d probably still be running around terrified that Greenmantle would come back to finish me off. Thank you for giving me the chance not to be afraid of that anymore… Thank you for that.”

“Of course Lynch,”

Ronan swallows down, trying his hardest not to avert his gaze.

“So stay Parrish. Stay and let’s start shit over together.”

Adam doesn’t answer in so many words, instead just inclines his head forwards and kisses Ronan within an inch of his life.

Ronan likes that answer a whole hell of a lot more.

#PYNCH #RONAN LYNCH #ADAM PARRISH #THE RAVEN CYCLE #Spilled Ink #I'm a hot mess #It's Gucci I Know #SPILT INK

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