#slidquietly

[marawrder]

snap was preparing for his next class by staring into the void and hating his life when the ghost boy came to him. the dead student has much in common with the other students: 1. annoy him, 2. .... “ following me around?” he paused longly “ is this really the hill you want to die on? ” he allowed himself a small chuckle to express that he was pleased with himself.

@slidquietly​ liked for a starter

[spiriituma]

@slidquietly​ asked: " look at that tall child. get some rest, tall child. you can't keep burning the candle at both ends. " (lee!)

She leans over to whisper in the other’s ear. “Jeez... he looks like SUCH A TOOL. I mean... look at ‘im over there... Wow.” The witch has to admit, PEOPLE WATCHING is a lot more fun when you’re not alone. “There he goes, the TALLEST CHILD in existence. Probably, what? Twenty-one? Twenty-two? An absolutely FASCINATING specimen, wouldn’t you say, Mr. Czerny?”

[alucinored]

                            HE FEELS HIM .  /    feels him like a stray breeze trickling in from the crack of a window   ;   a patter of raindrops from a storm not seen in a clear sky .   adam is used to it  ,   &   he isn’t at the same time  ---  regardless  ,   he stops his work   ;   setting the previous oil-slicked wrench in his grip to the side    (    like a painter’s brush  ,   a photographer’s camera ,  or perhaps ,  the way gansey would his beloved field journal    )    before calloused fingers would grip the rag that hung from his back pocket  ,   wiping his marred hands .   ‘    . . . how are you feeling ,  noah  ?   ’    immediately after he asks ,  he wants to take it back .  was it rude to ask a  dead boy  such a thing ?   ‘   . . . better than . . . usual  ?   ’    //  @slidquietly​

[somniaar]

‘  ——  @slidquietly​   /   start    ’

             IF  HE  WERE  ANYONE  ELSE  ,   it  would  have  been  easy  to  play  coy  ;   to  plead  his  naivety  and  be  done  with  the  situation  in  a  matter  of  seconds.   but  because  he’s  ronan  lynch  ,   such  an  act  would  only  be  deemed  useless  and  pitiful  ;  a  waste  of  energy  just  for  him  to  pretend  like  he  didn’t  have  a  white  sheet  in  one  hand  and  a  pair  of  scissors  in  the  other.   and  so  ,   the  corners  of  his  lips  would  pull  up  into  a  shit  eating  grin  instead.    “   got  you  a  costume  for  the  costume  party.  ”   to  be  fair  ,   it  didn’t  feel  right  to  leave  him  behind  ;   an  invite  from  declan  was  an  automatic  invitation  for  all  of  them.   noah  included  ;  dead-or-alive.    “   you’re  welcome.  ”

[joneshead]

@slidquietly SAID : ‘ live every day like it’s your second last! ’

"There’s a word for that. Penultimate.” Pulled out from the back of his mind, he had a folder back there for words with specific meanings, so specific that it might as well be useless except for in very particular circumstances. But that was what Jughead liked about them. Though the English language was expansive, there were still so many words that were idly repeated, defaults, chosen without thought in daily conversation. Used to the point they were meaningless. When there was a myriad of other words to be used when warranted, it was impossible for him to not go in search of them. When he was younger, he used to flip open the dictionary randomly, and bug his mother with questions about how to pronounce certain things, what they really meant. And she’d always obliged. He used to think she was the smartest person in existence. 

“But your little creed is lost on me.” Brows raised measuredly, his green eyes were steady on the young man, slightly narrowed with particular curiosity. Jughead never backed away from a conversation of interest or intellect, and though he wasn’t sure this was shaping up that way, he felt compelled to drive it in that direction. “What would be different from your second last day to your last day?”

A SOFTER WORLD STARTERS.

[blgrntrsh]

      there was something wrong with noah czerny, or at the very least, something not quite right. if asked, kavinsky would not have been able to explain what it was about the forth member of ronan’s crew that struck him -- perhaps it was the way that he always seemed to be lurking, a glimpse in the background never quite fully visible, never completely heard. even gansey’s stray, adam parrish, took up more space than noah czerny did. or perhaps it was how when kavinsky DID happen to notice him by the shock of pale hair or the glance of a smudged cheek, only then was he able to even remember he was there at all. it was like running into the same person while he was high but never quite recalling when or how, one moment the thought was there, and the next he was distracted by something brighter, something louder, something more captivating and that something was usually ronan fucking lynch but now it was easier. easier to focus, easier to see him without the others around and that feeling of something not quite right but not really wrong either settled like the taste of tobacco on his tongue.

     “  you  got  any  tricks  to  go  with  that  board,  czerny ?  ”  kavinsky hollered loudly, the corners of his lips tugging into a toothy grin as dark eyes flashed in the afternoon light,  “  or  you  just  carry  that  thing  for  decoration ?  ”  //  @slidquietly  ♡’d  for  a  starter

[worstlynch]

" sometimes you come to an edge that just breaks off. "

  ( * —————— [ SLIDQUIETLY ✉ ]  ❛ plainwater by anne carson . ❜ )

declan knew exactly what noah meant.

he’d had a recurring dream that sounded a whole lot like it. it began ( or ended? ) with a step too close to the cliff’s edge, with the earth crumbling beneath his feet, and then him falling… and falling… and falling… sometimes he was afraid as he fell through the air. sometimes he was angry. sometimes he felt nothing at all. when he finally landed, it was always the softness of a cloud that welcomed him, not the cold, hard surface of an ocean one would expect. declan would often let himself sink into the deep dark blue, wondering all the while if he should remain under or swim to the surface. noah looked like he couldn’t afford to sink. it looked like he could barely afford to just… be.

“ would you like some company? ” declan offered, a knowing look in his eyes. underneath the boring black tie and the boring white shirt was a tender heart. despite what ronan might have claimed, declan was kind and declan cared. he appraised the younger boy carefully before continuing, “ i don’t mind staying until your friends get back. we can… hang. ”

[tccnagedirtbag]

"it’s really inappropriate to jog around a graveyard."

“Ya, well, it’s inappropriate to be dead and walk around a graveyard isn’t it?” Ronan stepped off the trail and sat down next to his friend. “The fuck are you doing out here anyway?”