Open RP Post

[devilofaboy]

🖤 Hit me up on plurk or via PM if you have any questions/want to run an idea by me first/what-have-you.
🖤 General squick/trigger list.
🖤 m/m for anything shippy.
🖤 General headcanon for Ronan. If you've got different headcanon/ideas for a psl, hit me with 'em; I'm flexible.
🖤 Ronan's kink list.
🖤 This is open to everyone who wants to thread with me!

Comments

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[devilofaboy]

[Kavinsky said you don't have to go back, and Ronan stared at him for a long moment. If he didn't go back, what was he supposed to do? He had to go back, didn't he? He couldn't ghost Gansey, especially not after he'd wrecked the Camaro. It'd been his fault and he had the solution right here. He'd never been good at knowing what he wanted, especially right now. Especially, because-]

What're you suggesting?

[He blinked slowly, squinting a little against the sun beating down on them. What did Kavinsky think was going to happen? What did he want to happen? Ronan just- he needed to know what the other boy was thinking. Because he wasn't about to turn against his friends, he wasn't going to switch loyalties, if that was what Kavinsky wanted.

But he was willing to at least hear him out. That was- it was better than laughing in his face, which had been Ronan's first inclination. Kavinsky had put in all of this effort to teach him, after all, to show him how to dream.]

[dreamforger]

[What was he saying? He took a breath and tried to consider how to say this, if there was a good way to be honest. Kavinsky didn't always know what he wanted, but he'd known he wanted Ronan. Except- maybe even that wasn't honest, because it felt bigger than that, now. Less like want, more like need.]

I know you're gonna go back.

[It takes effort, but he manages to sound neutral about it, like it doesn't feel like a rejection. And he's trying not to fixate on that, because it isn't really the point. It's not really what he wants to say, isn't what he means.]

But you can come back here, too. Cause I--

[Come back to me is what he means, but he doesn't quite know the words for that. Really, the thing about this that got under his skin, that pissed him off, was that Ronan thought he needed the car, needed it to be perfect. It wasn't that Ronan wanted to fix Gansey's car; it was that he felt that he had to. He didn't think he was worth going back without it, he didn't think he meant enough to Gansey without a gift or an apology in his hands, and fuck everything about that. He thought Ronan was wrong, but the fact that he didn't know that was still infuriating.

Of course, Ronan could be oblivious. Maybe Gansey just didn't say it enough. But then, maybe Kavinsky had been making the same mistake. Kavinsky had never pretended to be good at this shit though; golden boy Dick the Third seemed like he ought to be.]

Shit man, you're worth more than any fucking car to me, alright?

[devilofaboy]

[Ronan considered himself a fuck up. Of course, he thought he needed the car to be perfect before he went back to Gansey. He'd already taken and crashed the Camaro without so much as asking permission, so he'd already fucked up. If he went back without the car... but that wasn't what Kavinsky was saying.

Slowly, Ronan blinked. Then he blinked again. It wasn't entirely because he was half-blind from the glaring sun. It was because he was slowly realizing that this wasn't a casual 'dreamer helping a dreamer' thing to Kavinsky. As if there could be anything casual about discovering the existence of another dreamer besides himself.]

Is that what this is about? You want to be- [Friends seemed like such an understatement, like it didn't do this justice. But 'friends' was all he could come up with.] What, you and me? Doing what?

[The gears in Ronan's head were starting to turn, slowly but surely. It wasn't that he wasn't interested in Kavinsky, even, he'd just- he'd never thought there'd be an actual possibility where the two of them were part of the equation. Where him and Kavinsky would ever be anything other than a flitting fantasy or a dirty dream. Speaking of- he was already flushed from the heat of the sun so it would be impossible to tell that he blushed. Once his mind started wandering it was, at times, hard to pull it back on track.]