#inuresoul

[insxdeout-blog]

       “it’s just a little bit further.” atlas leans down to check the moss on one of the rocks on the ground to make sure she’s heading in the right direction. even though she spends the better part of all her days walking around these woulds, spending too much time in the woods causes a person to lose direction. unfortunately for her she’s been lost more than once in the woods and would not like it to happen again - it still makes her uneasy when she thinks about it. the brunette doesn’t bother to glance over her shoulder to make sure gansey is still with her, she just takes off to the southeast, and makes her way into a somewhat small clearing. there’s a smile on her face as she walks to the large tree at the end of the clearing, turning to face her partner. “i know it’s not a welsh king, but it’s a tree cave.”

[insxdeout-blog]

      there has never been a time in his life where he wishes that his mother were here with him. being a momma’s boy has it’s major down falls when he’s all the way across the united states and having to wash his clothes. it isn’t even that he can’t wash his own clothes, it’s just that whenever his mother washes his clothes they come out softer than when he does it.“where the fuck is my mom.” atlas huffs, and dumps his clothes out on one of the tables in the landr-o-mat and begins sorting them into piles of lights and darks. 

[chpthrills-blog1]

      now that’s she’s thinking about it seattle is a lot different than what she thought it was going to be. sure she had seen it pictured on television, and she’d done some research on the city before she booked her ticket here, but that doesn’t mean anything. luna has one hand gripping the strap of her duffel bag, looking around the city that she just arrived in. “did you know they have ferryboats in seattle? i had no idea they had ferryboats in seattle.” 

[insxdeout-blog]

       this jeep is both the love of his life and the worst thing that’s ever happened to him. for the most part it’s been very reliable, but as of late it’s been giving him a lot of grief: breaking down, making horrible screeching noises, barely making it up hills. of course it would be happening to him when he’s in massachusetts instead of at home. atlas pops the hood his jeep, forearms pressed into the edge as he stares blankly at the engine. for the first time in his life he wishes his dad had a normal job so he could have been home more often, so he could teach him how to fix cars. “ya’fucker, why won’t you just work.” he lets out a huff of air, and slams the side of the jeep with his hand - immediately regretting it. “ah fuck it!” his hand retracts from the side of the care fairly quickly, as he tries to search for his phone to look up the number of a mechanic. 

[insxdeout-blog]

      it’d been a little while now since he’d been back in london, but family, or more specifically his daughter, was calling him back home. but now he’s back on the road, traveling back around europe for the next few months or so. 

      he’d been nursing his iced coffee the entire set. watching the people around her clap and bob in their seats to her tunes, doing the same thing from his hidden seat in the back of the cafe. a waitress comes back and takes his empty salad plate from the table, and he takes this an an opportunity to slip from his place in the back of the cafe and sneak to the front for the last song of the night. atlas has one of his stupid bright smiles on his face, full teeth, arms elbows pressed to his knees as he leans forward in complete awe.

[insxdeout-blog]

      backpacking around the continental united states with a friend has it’s perks - most importantly at this time, a place to crash for a little while before he takes the appalachian mountains back up to maine. said new friend currently left him to his own devices as he went off to wander around town and do who knows what ( from what he could guess, he was at the library after some time away ). atlas had just come out from the shower, a pair of grey sweatpants hung low on his hips, the tips of his calvin kliens’ peaking out of the top, he swung the towel around his neck, as he dug through his bag for a shirt that didn’t smell like he’d been traveling around for a six months, with minimal places to wash his clothes.

       over his shoulder he heard the door open and close, as he pulls out a maroon t-shirt and brings it to his face to smell - it’ll have to do. dropping the towel onto the floor, atlas pulls the shirt over his head as he turns toward the sound from the door. “ah, you must be ronan.” gansey had mentioned over the time that they were walking the length of the country that he had a half brother. though he failed to mention how attractive he was; that might have been expected though. “gansey mentioned you more than a few times.” atlas finished pulling the shirt down, and picked up the towel. “’m atlas.”

[insxdeout-blog]

      atlas stands in the middle of the field of grass, looking toward the north and then toward the south, his burnt orange wind breaker hanging freely on his frame, as his blue backpacking bag rest on the ground near his feet. “do we head north to beartooth or south to wind river?” he turns to face his backpacking companion he picked up about six states back. “i think wind river because the continental divide runs right through it, but whichever you think we can do.” this has been atlas’ first backpacking trip across the entire united states since he decided that it’d be a good idea to do so. mostly he’s visited individual mountain ranges, but he hasn’t spent much time north and south of the rocky mountains. “or we could head back to town and crash for the night and then start up again in the morning. might be a day or two in the mountains before we reach the national park.” 

[kavsdream-blog]

@inuresoul

       bejamin gansey is a creature of habit. 

         nickolaj prokopenko is a follower. 

         if dante kavinsky makes a point to pull him to the side and ask him why he kissed gansey at the substance party and then take him home immediately afterwards, he knows he: one has to kill jiang for twisting the truth and two he needs to stop. he owes his entire life to kavinsky, and that harmless drunk kiss from gansey evidently threatened to ruin that. it clearly didn’t matter than kavinsky spends all his spare time holding out for ronan, that he only uses prokopenko to get his dick wet. 

         prokopenko is 99% of the time a golden retriever: loyal to a fault. today is apparently the other one percent of the time, and only because gansey left his stupid expensive sweater on the floor of his golf the other night. considering that gansey is a creature of habit prokopenko is not surprised when he sees him emerge from the library, in fact a bit of a smirk curls onto his lips. he grabs the sweater and swings it over his shoulder, slips his hands into his pockets and crosses the street to the obnoxious orange camaro. “aye, benji!”