#kingcarded

[somniiaris]

‘  GET  THAT  LIGHT   out  of  my  eyes.  ’    he  comes  out  from  his  hiding  spot  ,  grimace  on  his  face  and  hands  held  out  ,  blocking  the  blinding  light.   ‘  you  don’t  go  around  blinding  people.  it’s  rude.  ’    //  @kingcarded

[cupcarded-blog]

b.lue Sargent only shaves her legs when she wants to && sometimes she let's them get reeeeal prickly, cuddles up to gansey && then attacks him with her cactus calves like some sort of evil demented cricket

[deathcarded-blog]

           a hum was found between rattle of fingers against cardboard cutouts, he had been at this specific project for hours. peaking to point of no return it caused a stir when wandering eyes of gansey were found, settled in to chair across from his seat on the floor. hands lifting small building to meet other’s eyes, a grin was found plastered,      ❛   so i saw this building when i was our skating, right ? & it wasn’t on you town map, so i made it as close as it could get... certified genuine as close as it can get... or we can scrap it, but i’ll show you were it goes !   ❜        // @kingcarded   

[magiciancarded-blog]

                    HOUSE  CALLS   at  st  agnes   were  rare,     partly    because  adam  didn’t  want  everyone  here,  and  partly  because  being  at  monmouth   was  just  easier.       so  opening  the  door  on  an  uninvited  gansey  was  a  surprise.  

   brows  furrow,    his   confusion  is  EVIDENT   for  a  moment  before  he  wipes   his  features  clean,                 ❛  what’re  you  doing   here  ?     ❜        words  spoken  as  he  lets  himself  lean  against  the  doorframe,    a   seemingly   casual  gesture,      but  one  adam  hoped  prevented  gansey  coming  inside                      something  about  gansey   coming  inside  was  unsettling,    like  the  carefully  nurtured  space  he’d  grown  for  himself  would  be  tainted  by  a  greater  presence.           ❛     has  something  happened  ?       ❜

@kingcarded  /   starter

[prfectplces]

@kingcarded /  sc

blue’s thoughts were filled with cabeswater. they were not filled with english class readings or math equations written on ancient, public school whiteboards. algionby, she thinks, as the whiteboard squeaks with aging markers, must have new whiteboards every year.  blue’s thoughts are filled with old, orange cameros, and the raven boys who ride in them. blue’s thoughts are filled with monmouth and blue’s thoughts are filled with cabeswater.  she has grown increasingly tired of the others around her at school. she finds them unimaginative, unlike herself and unlike gansey. she finds them lazy and undriven, unlike adam. she finds them - well, ronan has his public school counterparts;  blue finds ronan’s seething, unceasing anger among many in her classes. blue finds them unengaged, empty, almost like a mirage. if she walks to close to anyone at school, they would disappear.  or perhaps she’s the mirage, too caught up in the mysticism of cabeswater, the henrietta countryside, her raven boys; schoolmates think they see a strange girl with strange clothes, but when they get too close, she evaporates into thin air. 

she solidifies when she starts pedaling her bike towards monmouth, becoming less a mirage and more real. she’s finally a real person again when she slows her bike to a stop in front of the building. gansey’s treasured camero is parked under the shadow of monmouth. goodwill-thrifted boots kick down her kick stand as she parks her bike near to the camero.  boots scrape against the parking lot as she looks around but walks toward the door of the building.  she knocks.  no answer.  her voice echoes into the building when she opens the door slowly, ❛ gansey? ❜  she turns a little to close the door behind her.  her boots sound on the stairs,  ❛ i’m coming up. ❜   

[astrolatries]

accents! (two more!)

*   TUMBLR ACCENT CHALLENGE   /   ACCEPTING.

10/10 !

[incendiiarydevice]

[text]: I suppose that kind of helps fill the void where my self respect used to be.

texts from last night ★ // Gansey // accepting

[ text: 🍆💦👀] food is good at that.[ text: 🍆💦👀] but to be honest I’m surprised that you had any self respect based on your choice of shoes.

[incendiiarydevice]

a plotted starter for @kingcarded

The world was already bright when Ronan opened his eyes. He was alone in bed, which meant Adam had escaped early for work, and the house was quiet, which meant Opal had escaped early for play. Being entirely alone these days was a rare occurrence, although not one that he necessarily looked forward to. Even so, Ronan savored the silence for a few moments before dragging himself out of bed.

There was always work to be done at the Barns. Ronan liked work. It distracted his mind and got him moving. In the mornings he would walk the fields and feed the animals. Then there were books to read, outbuildings to repair, and the vegetable garden he was planning on setting up out back. Then of course there were the plans for the new Cabeswater. All things that kept his mind off Aurora, off Niall, and off the coming trouble Mr. Gray had predicted. Even on a cold December morning like this one, chores were much more preferable than standing in the hall, staring at the closed door of the master bedroom for far too long.

It was a particularly cold morning. Out in the fields, with no structures or trees to protect him, the wind chilled his hands and face. Few creatures turned out for their morning meals, most preferring to prepare for the coming winter. By the time Ronan made it back to the farmhouse he had decided it was an inside day. The sky was darkening and the wind was picking up. On the television the weatherman was predicting snow in the coming days.

Ronan pulled up to his desk in the den and opened his laptop. The desk was strewn with papers, sketches, and impossible things that could have only come from Ronan’s dreams. He flipped open a journal that might make Gansey proud and scanned the most recently filled page. On it was a sketch of what he wanted this new version of Cabeswater to be. It wasn’t good enough. He turned to a new page and began to work. He didn’t know how much time had passed before he heard the familiar sound of an engine approaching the house (only the Pig could manage to sound quite so stubborn).

Ronan was out on the front porch by the time the Pig had made it up the driveway. He leaned into the railing with two hands and shouted across the drive at his friend, “what the fuck, Gansey? Don’t you know how to call?” He hadn’t even checked his phone.