#wylan van text

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dont look at me

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get to know the members of @cabeswaternet → @wylans → character you relate to the most: richard gansey iii

and then, the other, more fragile gansey, strung out and unsure, embarrassingly earnest, driven by naive longing.

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haha nya am i right

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todd:

neil: *gently touches todd’s cheek* todd anderson. todd. anderson. god. i didn’t know angels could fly so low. here, have my left kidney. no. wait. both of them. you deserve it all, todd anderson.

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bbc merlin + @flatsound tweets because i have nothing better to do apparently

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2017 looks! every year the pretentious literature professor in me gets stronger and more powerful

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local english major takes selfies instead of reading walt whitman like shes supposed to

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@glitterghost wanted emotionally traumatizing noah fics and this is neither a fic nor particularly emotionally traumatizing but i cant get these scenarios out of my head now so ,, here you go please enjoy

the gangsey forgetting noah, through no fault of their own but rather the fact that he had “quietly slid from time” and their memories as well 

the wounds are fresh in the months after gansey’s death, when traces of noah were everywhere and no one could gloss over the sacrifices he had made for the rest of them - but as time goes on and the shock of gansey’s death fades and life becomes less of an adventure and more of a slow crawl to graduation and adulthood, things just sort of begin to fill the places that noah used to occupy 

noah’s room at monmouth, once a gaping reminder of the hole in their lives, becomes less of a bedroom and more of a storage room. henry asks about it one day while visiting, poking his head in through the doorway and asking gansey why he sleeps in the middle of the living room and not in the second bedroom. gansey blinks, begins to reply, “oh no, that room belongs to-” but can’t quite remember why he hadn’t just stayed there in the first place - he brushes it off and goes about the rest of his day but can’t quite shake the feeling of wrong that hits him every time he considers moving his things into the empty spare room 

ronan doesn’t race anymore, not really, but when gansey gets sick and asks ronan to pick up the groceries and some medicine ronan can’t really help but take the pig for a joyride; it’s practically his payment for taking care of gansey. he peels away down the street when the light goes green and for a second, one fleeting second, he sees the outline of a pale figure in the corner of his eye - he slams on the brakes and fishtails before pulling to the side of the road; he’s alone and has been the whole time, but he can’t quite will away the frantic pace of his heartbeat and the hard lump settling in his throat 

it hits blue like a tidal wave, somewhere between the end of classes and their official graduation; she’s spending the day with gansey at monmouth and laughing with him, laying on her side on his bed while he faces her, propped up on one elbow and somewhere in his quiet laugh she hears the echo of something else, something foreign and cold and distant but far too familiar and she can’t explain away the tears that fall in rivers down her cheeks when gansey leans in to kiss her 

adam remembers, which is weird - he had never been as close to noah as the rest of them, hadn’t lived with noah like gansey and ronan, hadn’t made him come alive like blue, but on his last day in henrietta before college move-ins he stops at a small corner market for a soda - on the shelf is a snow globe, only a little dollars worth plastic-and-glass-glitter tourist gimmick but he picks it up anyway, and as he shakes the flakes of glitter into a wild flurry the sight of it feels almost like he’s scrying; and he remembers it all, every bit of noah, and makes a promise to keep those precious memories tucked away until the others finally remember too.