#frostedfox

[realcooltraitors]

“Breath,” Mello instructs, and Matt does. It helps. Mello goes slow, high on his own kindness again. Matt does this to him. Makes him feel like he’s a nice person.

[pnrrish]

♦ pynch :3c

♦ slow dancing

Uncomfortable heat and the clatter of too many voices swirl out the door as it opens, light from inside the conference hall spilling out onto the empty veranda in stark blocks of gold and almost-black on the cement. Adam doesn’t look up, only shifts his weight from one foot to the other; there’s enough glass in the French double doors that the difference between open and closed is minimal. He’s supposed to be schmoozing since Gansey had hinted at networking opportunities, despite that it’s just the graduation reception for this year’s crop of Aglionby seniors, but Adam just wishes he hadn’t left his jacket in the coat closet when he’d arrived. It’s either unusually cold for mid-May or he’s just having that much trouble getting warm.

“I thought I’d find you out here.”

Adam turns his head to see Ronan making his lazy way across the patio, thumbs in his pockets, cutting an impressive figure in the well-fitted charcoal-gray number Matthew had gently bullied him into wearing. He looks good in it–very good, in fact, and Adam has to turn back around to surreptitiously loosen his tie so that his suddenly-pounding heart doesn’t pop a button. Of course, Ronan doesn’t notice, just installs himself at the railing, close enough to bump shoulders and wall off a little of the night breeze.

Adam sighs and leans the side of his head against Ronan’s warm shoulder. “I needed some air. All that networking with fifteen-year-olds and their parents was giving me a migraine.”

Ronan barks a laugh, slips his arm around Adam’s waist and presses in close, burying his face in the cool skin of Adam’s neck and breathing deeply. Even though he can’t see it, he can imagine the face Ronan is pulling, that marriage of tolerant grimace and fond smile that he loves. “They love you,” Ronan says. “Best-looking salutatorian in Aglionby history. How many job offers did you get?”

Adam laughs and leans closer. “None. I got about six board members asking for yearly donations, though. I told them nobody’s getting anything until they take my shitty picture out of the brochure.”

“Serious?” Ronan huffs into Adam’s shirt collar, his smile poking through the fabric. “I would have paid good money to see the look on Pauls’ face.”

Andre Pauls, the decrepit and bad-tempered head of the Giving Society, would have very quietly had an aneurysm at the mildest of curses, so it’s with a wistful tone of regret that Adam says, “Well, I didn’t say ‘shitty’.”

“That’s real funny, Parrish. I didn’t think you were a wuss.”

The door glides open again and the dwindling chatter inside washes over them–it’s gotten late enough that most everyone has left in pursuit of sleep or a wilder party. Footsteps. A muttered oh, excuse me. The footsteps retreat; the door remains open. Grumbling, Ronan shucks his suit jacket and tosses it over one of the rusted wrought-iron lawn chairs, yanking at the knot of his tie.

How unfair, how that does nothing to ease the constriction in Adam’s chest.

“C’mere,” he says, tugging at Adam’s sleeve and pulling him close. He laces their fingers and buries his face in the crook of Adam’s neck, next to his right ear. Someone inside finds an acoustic guitar and starts plucking a skillful, if tone-deaf, rendition of some John Mayer song that Ronan groans at. But he sways to the music all the same.

I don’t think I wanna go to L.A. anymore; I won’t know what it’s like to land and not race to your door….

“I hate this song.” Adam smiles, leans more fully into Ronan’s warmth–he’s not listening to the music at all, just relishing the chance to be close. A chance he regretfully hasn’t had since Christmas—spring break had been a hectic maelstrom of internship interviews and service projects and twenty-page papers that left a total of zero time to go home—

(when had he started thinking of the Barns as home?)

—and so this light touch is more than enough for the moment, cheek to cheek, his fingers linked behind Ronan’s neck, Ronan’s hands settled on Adam’s hips, gently shifting weight from one foot to the other, not quite on the beat.

I’m gonna steer clear: I’d burn up in your atmosphere.

“Think you’re gonna be around much this summer?”

I’m gonna steer clear, ‘cause I’d die if I saw you, die if I didn’t see you there…so I don’t think I’m gonna go to L.A. anymore.

Adam really should have seen this question for what it was, but instead he answers without thinking. “Oh, I hope so. It’ll be tricky with the internship but I’ve got a couple weeks between that and my summer classes—”

His first hint that this conversation isn’t going the way he’d expected is Ronan’s wary interjection: “Summer classes?” This isn’t the first time they’ve talked about this. This isn’t even the first time Ronan’s given even the slightest hint that he might not be thrilled about the idea. Adam presses on, ignoring the sudden churning in his gut because if he can just explain one more time—

(The guitar stumbles drunkenly over a chord progression and skips a verse: Wherever I go, wherever you are, I’ll watch your life play out in pictures from afar….)

“Yeah,” he says, unable to keep a hint of annoyance from creeping into his voice. “The two summer classes that’ll take me a month and a half to finish. Seriously, Lynch, it’s like you haven’t heard a word I’ve said all year—”

“I heard the part where I get two weeks with you from now until Christmas—”

“You know Thanksgiving is a thing, right?”

“That’s two days, and I honestly don’t know why you’d bother when it would be so much cheaper to stay up in Philadelphia.”

“Because I want to? Because I miss you and I want to spend time with you?”

The second hint that this conversation isn’t going the way Adam expected is the barb laced in Ronan’s response:

“Why?”

The kid with the guitar has stopped playing and the conference hall is dark—and honestly, that’s probably for the best. With the party well and truly over, the only people privy to the argument are Adam and Ronan themselves.

“The hell do you mean, ‘why’?” Adam’s long crossed the line from bewildered and annoyed to pissed, not just at Ronan’s instant, overboiling hostility, but at all of this in general. The way Ronan gets moody and snappish the day before he has to leave. The way he answers every question with either deflection or unwarranted venom. The way he walks around like an explosive on a timer that’s steadily ticking down to an unknown deadline.

Like he thinks there’ll come a day when Adam decides there’s nothing in Henrietta worth coming back for.

Like he thinks it’s so inevitable that he might as well blow it all up now and save them both from wasting any more time.

When Ronan doesn’t answer, Adam keeps talking, his voice shaking and his hands numb with anger. It’s all he can do to scramble for the right words; if they’ve had this argument once, they’ve had it a hundred thousand times, and he keeps hoping he can find the magic combination that will make him finally understand.

“You really think I’d rather be in Pennsylvania right now? Where it starts snowing in September and traffic is always the shittiest and the only person I can have a normal conversation with is my eighty-year-old history professor?” His breath is growing shorter and shorter by the word, his fingers tremblingly clutched in Ronan’s shirt collar, his heart thudding painfully. Somewhere under his ribcage, an ache like roots is spreading, oily and deep. “If I keep doing summer classes, I–there’s a good chance of me graduating early. I’m not just thinking about tomorrow and next week. I’m thinking about in three years getting to come back and stay instead of doing this for one more year. I don’t want to stay up there. I want to come back home.” His throat catches on the last word, tripping over the h like a scratched disc, and he feels the burn of tears beginning to fall.

Ronan’s blinking owlishly, face full of understanding, silent only for a few moments.

“Oh, Adam,” he says softly. “Don’t cry. I’m not going anywhere.”

He can’t help it—his breath goes shuddery and deep and dry, groping dumbly for the air he’d almost been afraid he’d lose. Ronan’s hands are warm and soothing on his neck, thumbs swiping at cheekbones, forehead against forehead.

“You’re incredible,” Ronan murmurs. “Sometimes it’s hard to even look at you ‘cause I know you’re gonna do something amazing. And all I can think is, wow, I sure hope I get to watch it happen somehow. I wanna see where you go ‘cause it’s going to be fucking mind blowing.”

Adam is reminded, briefly, strangely, of the dreamlike summer before Penn: wandering the Barns for hours at a time, only working when he wanted, eating his fill, and Ronan a ghost in his own house for weeks, too insecure to start a real fight but too stubborn to try to talk it out. It had turned out to be nothing, but Ronan had made a similar confession the night before Adam left.

“You sure you don’t want to stay up on campus for Thanksgiving? That’s a lot of driving to only be down here for two days.”

“That’s stupid,” Adam said, rolling over to pull the blanket out from where it had fallen between the bed and the wall. “When would I see you?”

Ronan heaved a sigh. “I just figured you’d rather do anything except come back to Podunk Central.” His voice twinged, like it cost him a lot to admit. Adam went still, his arms still half tangled in the threadbare quilt.

“I’m coming back to you, dummy,” Adam said. He leaned across the pillow to pepper kisses along the expanse of Ronan’s mouth and cheek. “And I can’t wait.”

Finally, Ronan smiled.

“And what the hell,” Adam says now, “am I gonna do when I get there and you’re not with me?”

“Die, I guess,” Ronan says instantly, easily. “Since you always forget to eat.”

“Dickhead.”

Laughter shakes the azaleas in the blue shadows outside the veranda. Where the ache was, curling and twisting in his ribcage, now there’s only feather-lightness.

“Come on,” Adam whispers, sliding his hands into the back pockets of Ronan’s slacks and relishing the warmth. “I thought we were dancing.”

Ronan doesn’t answer, just smiles as he leans down to press their lips together. He hums tunelessly, and they spin lazily around the porch with the light off and the door open, and the cold night air stills at last.

[genderqueerpond]

PASS THE HAPPY!💜 When you see this, reply with 5 things that make you happy and send this to the last 10 people in your notifications

jnhijhhk okay i’m gonna answer this with different things than last time so:

1. stars at night

2. talking to my friends

3. drIVE REAL FAST DOWN COMPLETELY EMPTY ROAD

4. starting to learn new languages

5. sweet nerdy dorks

[thecorvidrotation]

frostedfox replied to your post “tumblr recently did one of those things where it lost/changed what...”

has it not. always been ronana

no no, it’s always been “ronana”! Or, well, it quickly became “ronana” after the “ronana-banana” post. But now tumblr has decided to take away my tag-crafting agency and make it a very forceful “RONANA” and as much as I love my son I’m a little indignant about it.

[professorllayton]

frostedfox replied to your post: im crying daisy jsut peed out of excitement bc my...

when we had dolly she wasnt potty trained and we could get her to go up the stairs but she was too scared to come down and she pissed all the way down the stairs

oh my GOD

[koutarrou]

@zethrid is a pretty cool blog,, ;))))))))

@zethrid they have a heckin nice url!

send me nice messages abt ur favorite bloggers and ill @ them

[nice-message-pidge]

shoutout to @familymangler ilyt and u inspire me a lot and u listen to me even when I don't make sense and u mean the world to me 💛💛💛

@familymangler you’re so nice and kind! you are inspirational and you mean so much to so many!

[dykediitsi]

actually im a christmas hoe so

cattedmint -> christmasfox

[psychoticgirl]

Ann, queen of Sifki recs, do you have any adventure recs for those of us stuck at home and day dreaming of epic sifki to get through the boredom?

Oh boy heck yes I can do that!

I am keeping my definition of “adventure” to mainly mean questing, hunting, thrill seeking to keep this list sort of manageable and I’m only including canon, so no AU fics for this one :)

Adventure Awaits: 

Silhouettes by murdur (me!)

After surviving Ragnarok, Loki and Sif pick up a new profession

A Dragon Moves Amongst Us by silverducks

Sif runs into a dragon that reminds her of a certain god and finds herself in trouble

The Bitter Taste of Pine Nuts by silverducks

Sif, Loki, and Thor go to slay a serpent on Alfheim

Brightly Burning Embers by Ariane

After angering an elfin queen, Loki and Sif split up from the W3 and Thor

Where We’re Going Where We’ve Been by margokim

Loki and Sif secretly travel to Earth together throughout the centuries

The Tenth Realm by margokim

Loki and Sif set off to find the mythical Tenth Realm

The Steel!verse by mira_jade

The whole universe is great, steel in your hand and envelop bones like new skin are especially adventury.

Andvari’s Gift by theladysif

Role-swap, Princess Sif and court mage Loki must rescue their friends

winter is coming by cofeesuperhero

Only Sif knows that Loki can secretly travel between the realms. Not happy, heed the tags!

The Living Dead by ladylaufeyson1

Teenage Loki and Sif go looking for a ghost story

The Yule Boar by ourdreamsrealized

Lost in a snowstorm while hunting a boar

Anything but the Shadows by frostedfox

A young Sif and Loki get lost together

west of the moon, east of the sun by nefelokokkygia

Sif convinces Loki to take her to see the dragons

Personal Space by dealingdearie

When Thor is sick, Sif goes hunting with Loki in his place

Never Doubt I Love by scarletsherlock

The pair go on a rescue mission to retrieve a little girl from a troll

If you like a side of fake-relationship to spice up the adventure:

One Yuletide Night by eienvine

They pretend to be dating while awaiting their hunt. My emotionssss

let’s play a love game by coffeesuperhero

Loki and Sif fake a marriage in an attempt to rescue their friends

Best of bad choices by lizardbeth

An adventure goes wrong so a marriage must be faked

you could be my unintended by coffeesuperhero

An adventure leads to an accidental marriage, and another trying to undo it

If you like your adventure heavy on the hurt/comfort:

So Will You Swim for Me by newredshoes

The group adventures in a cavern

Consequences of Boar Hunting by sushibunny

Loki is left with an injured Sif during a hunt

so long to the headstrong by murdur

They try to fight the dwarves off

If you like one-sided rescue missions:

I Am Stretched on Your Grave by sidhemail

Sif is trapped and in danger, Loki must come to her rescue

i have come to burn your kingdom down by nefelokokkygia

Sif is taken in battle and Loki won’t stand for that

Speak in Rounds by nayanroo

Sif is captured and Loki must face his fears to save her

Extrication by murdur

Loki strikes an agreement for her release

[paintedpolarbear]

O and R :3cccc

O: a melancholic song 

turning out by ajr

R: a song that I’ve listened to lots of times recently

the wreck of our hearts by sleeping wolf

[pnrrish]

frostedfox

 “pro ana blogs fuck off”

im guessing not ana from overwatch what the fuck

ana amari can stay but you’re on thin fucking ice

no i’m talking about “ana” as in “anorexia” as in “my entire archive is pictures of skeletons w/ the skin stretched over them”

[vrepit-succ]

rain

I’d probably keep a Serval as a pet!

[thecorvidrotation]

frostedfox replied to your post “i need to…… how do you say……….. stop caring so much about hogwarts...”

big fuckin worm tho

I can’t keep having these visceral gut reactions whenever my house headcanon is different from someone else’s it’s just no way to live!!

[professorllayton]

idk how long ago u posted that animal crossing thing but ur an uchi rabbit

god that’s valid…

[seajaywrite]

🍊 tangerine 🍊

Ohhh we have a lot in common?! Yay!! I like relating to people! 

[vld-fuckos-blog]

some ~aesthetics~ of some of the gang: @missingaxolotl @canadiangothstalker @tinybeep @psyduqqy @illusivereality @crystxllar @frostedfox @rootbeerboogy @paintbrushcollector @infinityleafclover

fun fact i stayed up until 8am the other day making these bc i had a coffee before bed and couldnt go to sleep

bonus: me!