#what was going through your mind Gansey…

[cabeswaterdrowned]

gay people can never just tell their crush they’re hot it’s always some shit like “hey, tiger”.

[happyandticklish]

A Gentler Touch

Notes: Commission for anonymous! Thank you so, so much for your patience as I got back into my groove within the new year, as well as for commissioning me! This was such a fun prompt to work on, I love this trope so much, and I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed making it!

Summary: Ronan tends to be rough in most areas of his life. Unfortunately for Adam, this includes tickling as well. As a result, he struggles to find a way to explain that a gentler approach would be much preferred.

Adam couldn’t sleep. This was not a new occurrence for him, but this time, it was not due to insomnia, anxiety, stress, or any of the other usual factors, including threats to his mortality from outside sources. Something else had taken ahold of his mind and it refused to let go to his great frustration. Unbothered by any inner turmoil, Ronan slept peacefully besides him, his arms curled against his chest in a quite adorable, un-Ronan-like fashion. Adam never dared to comment on it in the morning, for fear of the dangerous retaliation it would surely bring.

Sleeping together was still new to them. Gansey was gracious enough to keep his comments to himself whenever he noticed Adam still in their apartment at who knows what hour of the night. It was not that he didn’t know what was going on, but he respected their privacy, which Adam was grateful for. It was hard enough to deal with his own thoughts about this new relationship without having to worry about anyone else’s. Adam hadn’t been able to sleep at all the first night, his heart thundering in his chest as he forced himself to look nowhere but up at the ceiling.

Now, after a couple weeks of this routine, Adam felt confident enough to glance over at Ronan’s face and study him. He could see the latter’s eyes flitting sharply back and forth under his eyelids, the results of a night of dreaming. His lips were parted slightly, and soft, rumbling snores accompanied the rise and fall of his chest. It was a trait that Ronan still denied, even after multiple eyewitnesses had informed him otherwise. Adam had often considered filming it one of these days to present as proof.

His gaze traveled freely down the length of his body, pausing when it stopped on Ronan’s hands. One of them was bent in a fist under his chin, the other splayed out on the mattress with fingers half-curled enticingly inwards.

Adam flushed.

This was ridiculous. He had been through far worse in life for something so simple to be bothering him this much. He drew his legs up to his chest, resting his chin on his knees as he contemplated the events of earlier that day.

The two of them had been sitting on the couch attempting to study together. Key word: attempting. Ronan had made it his personal mission that day to do everything in his power to keep them from their goal, including, but not limited to: throwing spitballs at Adam crumpled out of his notes; asking inane questions such as, “do you think Gansey would mind if we took the Pig on a joy run to the gas station?” (Adam didn’t feel the need to dignify that one with a response); and his most recent strategy that doubled as his favorite pastime for the last several weeks—tickling Adam.

Adam had yelped when Ronan poked him in the side suddenly, his arms jerking down instinctively and nearly forcing him to lose his grip on his history textbook. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?” Another poke, and another, each one digging into his ribs in a way that had Adam squirming back into the couch. “Is this bothering you?”

Adam gritted his teeth, not wanting to give into the teasing. That horrible cocktail of giddy helplessness was brewing in his stomach, and he fought to keep a smile off his face. “Lynch. I am trying to focus.”

A shark’s grin flashed back at him. There was no mercy behind those eyes. “So focus. Don’t mind me.”

“I cannot do that if you’re tickling me.”

“I’ll be gentle.”

“Ronan—”

“Shush. Focus.”

Adam wanted to protest further, but he was forced to keep his mouth shut when Ronan’s hands snuck their way under his shirt, skittering softly over his stomach. He inhaled sharply, holding the book closer to his face. Each swipe of Ronan’s fingers sent new waves of sensation coursing through him like tiny electric shocks. He bit his lip, struggling to hold back his laughter as he turned his attention back to his work.

In his defense, he did try to focus, for a moment. He scanned the same paragraph nine separate times before eventually giving up and closing his eyes, giggling softly against the gentle onslaught.

The tickling thing was a new development at that time. An ill-fated comment in the bedroom had led to Ronan pinning Adam down and tickling him within an inch of his life, to the misfortune of Gansey who kindly informed them that they should lower the volume of their ‘bedroom activities’ in the future. After that, it was nearly daily. Ronan used any excuse he could to get his hands on Adam, and once he had, he was relentless. There was a ruthlessness to his strategy, his fingers clawing and digging and tickling anywhere and everywhere he could get ahold of. Adam would wheeze and screech and appeal to the mercy of some higher being, only to curse them moments later when he discovered how unbreakable Ronan’s grip was. He hadn’t known something could tickle that much until Ronan. It had been both a thrilling and a nerve-racking realization.

He would always stop if Adam asked, of course. The moment the word left his lips, Ronan would let up, though not without a bout of merciless teasing that was almost worst than the tickling itself. It was that small amount of control that made it so Adam rarely did ask for it to stop. Still. The tickling had grown to a fever pitch as of late that was starting to grow nigh unbearable, and Adam was beginning to see that there was a limit to how much a single man could take.

That, though. That was nice. Ronan’s hands, normally vicious and calculated, moved with an almost lazy precision. He mostly stayed near Adam’s stomach, though occasionally he would dart upwards under his arms just to hear the latter squeak. His touch bordered between ticklish and pleasant, and Adam gasped and shuddered and whined softly as he drank in the light sensations. His arms trembled as he struggled to keep a hold of his book, He told himself it was just because he didn’t want to incur Ronan’s wrath and make things worse for himself. But there was more to it. While there was a part of Adam that enjoyed the vicious and destructive nature of Ronan’s tickling for reasons he didn’t really want to explore right then, this was downright heavenly. Adam melted into the gentle tickling, hardly noticing when nearly thirty minutes had passed without either of them saying a word. He didn’t know how long it would have gone on if Gansey and Blue hadn’t walked in then, causing Ronan to lurch back as though he’d been burned.

The rest of the day, the memory clung stubbornly to Adam’s thoughts no matter what he did. Normally, tickling was something Adam accepted, and on occasion enjoyed, but was happy to avoid. Now, though…

Slowly, so as not to wake the other, Adam laid back in bed, carefully pushing up the hem of his t-shirt. His heart thundered in his chest, a gentle flush settling over his cheeks. He hesitated. And then he gently traced his fingers over his abdomen. Goosebumps spread from where he touched, and a pleasant shiver ran through him. It was far from the same thing. For one, there was certainly nothing ticklish about his one touch. But it was something. He closed his eyes, imaging Ronan instead—Ronan’s hands tracing indecipherable circles across his skin, Ronan’s eyes carefully watching his every move, Ronan’s voice teasing him with the sweetest of words.

Feeling bold, he dragged his touch upwards, sliding over the tops of his ribs. This was a tad more effective, and he allowed a smile to bloom across his features. He imagined being pinned, helpless, yet safe, with only this gentle, shivery touch to keep him company. He sighed, luxuriating in the fantasy.

“What are you doing?”

Panic set in before reason did and Adam’s eyes snapped open as he flung upwards. He tugged his shirt back down, refusing to look away from the far wall though he could feel Ronan’s eyes trained on him.

“I thought you were asleep.”

“I was. I had a bad dream.”

Through the panic, Adam managed a sigh of relief that Ronan hadn’t brought any stragglers back with him into the waking world. “Oh.” He paused, not really wanting to ask, but needing to. “How long were you…?”

Behind him, Ronan shrugged. “Not long. But long enough, I’m guessing.” And then, because Ronan was blessedly and horribly honest, “Were you tickling yourself?”

Adam wanted to crawl out of the window, or perhaps set himself on fire, or both of them on fire, or teleport anywhere but that moment. He ignored how warm his ears were getting as the seconds ticked by. “No.”

“Parrish.”

“No. I mean…. I don’t know. It’s stupid. Let’s go back to bed, it really, really does not matter.”

Ronan caught his wrist as Adam attempted to lay back down, carefully twisting him towards him. His gaze was gentle, but curious. “It really, really does matter because it looks like you’re about to jump out of your own skin.”

Adam sighed, refusing to keep eye contact for more than a second or two. “I don’t even know if I know what I’m trying to say.”

“Let’s start simple,” Ronan said, calmly, as if this was fine, as if Adam wasn’t about to explode from some new, embarrassment induced affliction. “Why were you tickling yourself?”

Adam huffed, croaking out a quiet laugh. “That is not simple.” He waited a beat, but Ronan stayed silent, resolutely watching him. Minutes passed by in heavy silence until Adam squirmed and groaned and rubbed a hand over his face. “Fine. I was just… do you remember earlier?”

Ronan arched a brow. “I’m afraid you’ll have to be more specific than that.”

Adam laughed derisively, worrying at the inside of his cheek with his teeth. “When we were doing homework," he specified. "And you tickled me.”

The word, never before a difficulty, now sat heavy on Adam’s tongue. He had closed his eyes at some point, and he held to that, not sure he would be able to get through this if he had to look the other in the eyes. Ronan hadn't said anything, so Adam forged ahead. “It was… you were…. Well. I know that tickling is more a thing you do to antagonize me more than anything, but this time, it felt nice. Like it wasn’t meant to be mean, just fun and light and, I don’t know, affectionate. I didn’t want to bother you, so I was just trying to recreate that. Which is ridiculous, but you wanted the truth, so there you go.”

The words had all fallen out in a breathless rush, and now, Adam lapsed into silence, waiting for the inevitable teasing he was sure would follow. Perhaps the worst was knowing that even if Ronan didn’t want to be cruel, Adam would receive the truth whether he wanted it or not. He was in the process of bracing for this rejection when he felt hands wrapping around his wrists and strong arms pulling and holding them securely above his head. Adam’s eyes shot open, his heart racing for entirely different reasons now.

Ronan stared down at him with an indiscernible gaze, but when he spoke, he said, “I love you.”

Adam furrowed his brows. “I… love you too?”

Ronan placed a hand against his side and Adam gasped when fingers gently wiggled against the sensitive skin there. “I love you,” he repeated, his words calm and self-assured. His hand traveled casually across his torso, teasing at the skin below his naval.

Adam flinched, his mouth already twitching up into a smile, his nerves quickly being dashed as his focus turned over to how ticklish everything felt already. “W-What are you—?”

“And I do, sincerely, apologize that you have been suffering under the impression that there is something you want that you could not ask me for. Let’s fix that.” Ronan grinned at him and Adam’s heart shot up into his throat. This was different. There was still the same predatory glint in Ronan’s eyes as he stared down at him, but it was different this time. He was not here to devour Adam, but to admire him. The distinction sent warmth flooding through Adam’s body.

Ronan curled his fingers in and out, fleeting bursts of sensation that made Adam twitch and inhale sharply. “I like this spot. You always squirm whenever I pass my hand over it.” He scribbled the spot quickly, smiling when Adam was unable to stop a bark of laughter from escaping. “And this? He crawled two fingers up his side, a teasing, gentle touch. Adam couldn’t help but shudder, his whole body twisting involuntarily with a yelp. Ronan’s brows shot up. “You’re right, Parrish. It’s much better when I can see you react to it. I wonder what would happen if I I…”

Ronan traced a path, starting at Adam’s wrist, down his forearm. It was a single finger, but Adam couldn’t help but tense with giddy anticipation the further it traveled down his biceps. “Ronan. Please.”

“Interesting. Underarms seem to cause begging.”

Adam scoffed, certain he was never going to stop being red at this rate. “You are such a d—gah—a d-dor—jesus!”

“Such a dork,” Ronan filled in for him, continuing this spidering under his arms. “That’s what you were going to say, right?”

“F-Fuhuhuck off!"

It tickled. It fucking tickled. Adam was doing his best to hold still under the circumstances, but he couldn’t help how his body writhed and shuddered away from the tickling. What he hadn’t expected was for it to tickle so much more when it was slow like this, when he actually had the brain capacity left to think about how intense each flutter and stroke of Ronan’s fingers was. He had squeezed his eyes shut at some point, not sure if it was worse or better to watch it happen.

Shivers ran down his spine when he felt Ronan’s breath hot against his neck, his words a teasing whisper against his skin. “Thank you, for telling me about this. But I’m afraid I’m going to need more. What do you like about this?”

Adam swallowed. Ronan was still tickling under his arms, his stubble pressed under his ear and Adam was melting into the mattress, more liquid than man. “I-I like how it feels—”

“And?” Blunt nails gently scraping downwards, towards his shoulder blades.

“T-thahahat ihihit’s fuhun!”

“And?”

“A-And I lihihike the attention!”

“Attention?”

“I dohon’t know! It feels lihihike y-yohohou’re tickling me behecause you w-want to tickle me. God, Ronan, plehehehease!” Adam scrunched up desperately at the path of neck kisses Ronan had planted just then, following by sweeping fingers sliding down his ribs. That tickled. He arched, giggling helplessly under Ronan, lost in a haze of soft, unbearable sensation.

Ronan nipped his neck, prompting a sudden squeak from the other man, before pulling back to appraise him with a smirk. “I have to say, I’m feeling very grateful for this nightmare that woke me up. To think, I might have missed out on this confession of yours.”

Adam groaned, though he didn’t disagree. He whined as Ronan gently scratched the taunt skin on his ribs, throwing a leg over his waist when this cause Adam’s legs to jerk up in protest. “S-Stop teheheasing.”

“I’m not teasing.” Ronan gently scratched the taut skin on his ribs, quickly throwing a leg over Adam’s waist when his legs jerked up in protest. “I am glad you told me. Especially because now that I know what you want, I am going to spend the next few hours making sure you get your fill.”

Adam’s eyes widened. “Wait, wait, nohohoho!”

Ronan nodded sagely. “I know. You can thank me later.”

Before Adam could protest, feather-light touches were fluttering over his hips and any thoughts he might have in response were quickly lost to time. The room filled with the sounds of snorting laughter and gentle teasing and a sense of contentment blossomed in Adam’s chest.

As minutes became an hour, Adam found himself grateful for Ronan’s nightmare too.

[zephfair]

GO-FHRM Chapter 6

Ho-ho-ho, let's give this a T rating. Definitely Gansey/Ronan now for sure. Still fluffy and syrupy, still trope-full, still 💯 indulgent for the "author." Still many, many thanks for reading. 💖

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5

Chapter 6 under the cut

Gansey couldn’t sleep. He heard Ronan up several times during the night and wondered if he was restless for the same reasons.

Gansey had so many emotions rushing around his brain and chasing in circles that he couldn’t deal with any of them.

When he heard Ronan leave the house to start his chores, Gansey rolled out of bed as well. His body ached, all the pain of the hard work from the weekend catching up to him as well as the stress of the sleepless night.

He straightened up the room and put back everything he’d borrowed and used. He stood in the kitchen in the darkness that always seemed especially cold and lonely right before dawn and felt thoroughly empty.

He jumped when the back door opened and he heard the skitter of Chainsaw’s toenails running through the mud room. She veered off course and ran to him, bumping his legs in blatant invitation for petting.

Gansey couldn’t help but smile and squat down to oblige her. Ronan stopped in the doorway when he saw him.

“You’re up early,” he said. Gansey’s heart plummeted when he heard how gruff Ronan’s tone was.

“Didn’t sleep at all. Lynch, can we—”

“Lemme feed Chainsaw and then I’ll find us some breakfast.”

Gansey stood up and grabbed Ronan’s wrist before he could leave. “Lynch, I’m sorry. This has all been so confusing, so much for me. I’m just sorry that I hurt you. I fucked up. I wanted to be here with you, doing that. I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you about my break-up beforehand.”

“I’m sorry too” was all Ronan said before he gently pulled away and called Chainsaw.

“Don’t worry about breakfast. I’m leaving now.” Gansey picked up his keys from the table and headed for the back door.

“Hey,” Ronan called out. “Tell Patty I’ll get her shit down to her this week.”

“Very well.” Gansey cleared his throat in the silence that fell. “I hope we can speak again very soon, Lynch.”

“Drive safe,” was all Ronan said.

Gansey steeled himself to walk into the Pleasant Valley Bed and Breakfast, but he still wasn’t prepared for Patty’s reaction. Her entire face lit up and beamed at him when he walked through the doors. Then her expression fell when she rightly read his face.

“Oh honey,” she said, sympathy heavy in her voice as she rushed to hug him.

“My clothes are filthy,” Gansey tried to object, but then he put his arms around the tiny, round woman and hung on.

“Come and eat, and then we’ll talk, if you want.”

He mustered a smile for her but said, “I don’t think I’m ready to talk about anything. But Lynch… Ronan told me to tell you he’d bring your things later this week.”

“That boy can stuff his own stocking,” Patty said. “If he’s too set in his ways to see what’s right in front of him, then he can just—”

“It wasn’t him. It was me,” Gansey admitted in a tiny voice.

Patty’s eyes widened but she didn’t comment further, just bustled him into a seat and started bringing out food and coffee.

After breakfast, Gansey went to shower and shave then dress in his own clothes. They felt stiff and unnaturally fancy and fussy compared to what he’d worn all weekend. While Patty was involved in the kitchen, Gansey escaped.

He spent the day wandering around Henrietta on foot and found the library was open. He stared blankly at the old records he’d come to town to examine, and his mind emptied when the librarian asked what else he wanted to see.

He left without even making any notes and found himself walking the half-remembered path to Aglionby. Gansey stood outside the fence and watched the boys—no, the young men—who had their entire futures ahead of them, who may not even realize what they were headed toward.

He grabbed a fast food burger then sneaked back into the B&B. Thankfully, neither Patty or Shorty were to be seen, so he ate then lay down on the bed for a nap.

That backfired when he woke up at midnight, groggy and sore and heartsick.

He missed … everyone. He missed Adam, the security, the sureness that Adam would be in his bed, even if his mind was elsewhere on his job. He missed the closeness and intimacy they’d shared until they’d grown apart.

He missed Ronan, his presence and solidity, his surety, the smile he reserved for only Gansey. Hell, he missed the farm and the work, the crazy chaos and crowd of pleasant co-workers. He missed Blue and her sensibility mixed with whimsy. He missed sharing breakfast with them and Chainsaw and actually looking forward to the day for once, rather than facing it as just another thing that must be endured.

He just missed.

Gansey felt around the bed for his phone and texted Adam before he could regret it. <i>Hope your project is going well.</i> It sounded too formal, too stilted, too much like a polite work colleague. But he didn’t think Adam would react well to the truth </i>I miss you. Do you miss me at all?</i>

He scrolled down to the short text chain he had with Lynch. And there he wrote the truth. <i>I miss you. Hope everything went well yesterday.</i>

He got up and drank some water, crunched through some of his snack hoard he hadn’t touched then got into bed. There were no replies.

Gansey woke up as the sky started to lighten, the past few days of early mornings already having an effect on his circadian rhythm. He glanced at his phone and saw a new message. His stomach did a swoop when he saw it was from Ronan.

<i>We miss you too</i> followed by a picture of Beelzebub with his tongue sticking out.

Gansey liked the photo immediately. His thumb hovered over his phone, but he was unsure how to continue the conversation.

He almost dropped the phone when another text came through, this time from Adam.

<i>Busy, team still shitheads. Why are you pretending to care now</i>

Gansey felt his forehead tighten into the crease it always seemed to wear when he and Adam fought. He took a deep breath.

<i> Adam I’ve always cared about you. I always will.</i>

To his shock, Adam responded right away.

<i>When are you coming back</i>

Gansey typed then deleted then typed again. <i>I don’t know.</i>

Adam’s response made him throw the phone to the end of the bed. <i>Then I guess that’s all I need to know</i>

It was over. It was done.

Unlike all their other fights, Gansey would not be the first to crawl back and apologize. And he knew from bitter experience that Adam wouldn’t either.

He loved Adam. He’d loved him as friend and then partner for so many years. But he was tired. Tired of Adam putting his work, putting his aspirations, putting himself first. He didn’t ask about Gansey’s research, he questioned Gansey’s goals, and while he could be considerate, it was always at the expense of his own job, and he made sure Gansey knew all about the cost and the sacrifice.

Gansey got ready for the day and wandered out to the kitchen. Shorty was there and poured him a mug of coffee with only an understanding nod of his head. Gansey nodded back and accepted it gratefully.

Patty soon bustled in and pushed them out so she could start on breakfast. Gansey found himself offering to help, but she just laughed and told him to take his seat in the dining room.

He scrolled through his social media and news sites, catching up on the awful state of the world that had continued while he’d been ensconced in the Barns. That magical fairy tale place where the real world paused and the horrors could be escaped for a moment.

<i>Do you need a hand?</i> he texted Ronan before he could stop himself. Ronan didn’t reply until Gansey was finishing his stuffed French toast and fruit.

<i>If ur offering to feed urself to Bub, sure, save me on goat feed.</i>

Gansey grinned when the second text came <i>and tell Patty to get off my ass and quit bitching. Ill bring her shit tommrrow.</i>

<i>I won’t put it in those terms, but I’ll be sure to let her know.</i>

<i> You be around tomrrw?</i>

Gansey hesitated. <i>I can be gone if you’d rather?</i>

Ronan just sent back <i>Dick</i> which Gansey actually didn’t know how to interpret.

The interaction did cheer him up, and he spent a much more productive day at the library. One of the older librarians was so taken with his theories that she offered to open the archives. They spent several hours pouring over old, dusty maps with a magnifying glass and helping him come up with an agenda for traveling to the potential sites.

He picked up takeout since he’d worked through lunch, but Patty caught him and invited him into the kitchen. She had the Hallmark Christmas movies on, of course, and it reminded him to relay Ronan’s message.

“You’ll be here,” she said, giving him no chance to make excuses. “Wish I knew when he was coming so I could make y’all a meal. I will bake a cake tonight.”

“Oh, please don’t go to any trouble. I’m still not sure if he wants to see me.”

“He’ll want to see you,” she said with finality. “You’d better get some sleep tonight. Do you have something nice to wear? You need any laundry done?”

“No, thank you, ma’am, you are too kind.”

Patty waved him out once he was done eating, and Gansey did go to bed early, looking forward to seeing Ronan.

He lurked around the dining and living rooms all morning only paying half attention to the weather reports and talk from the other guests, still torn between wanting to see Ronan and not knowing if Ronan wanted to see him.

That all disappeared when heavy knocking started on the kitchen door.

“Honestly, that boy’ll have the paint off the door next,” Patty said and Gansey followed her.

“Good morning, Ronan!”

“Where do you want all this shit?” Ronan grunted.

Patty tutted at him and he looked up to lock eyes with Gansey. “Dick,” he said.

“Lynch.”

“Do not bring that tree through the kitchen! I’ll not have you dragging pine needles through my food!You bring everything in through the front,” Patty ordered and shut the door in his face.

Gansey choked out a laugh at the expression on Ronan’s face. Patty turned to him. “You gotta be firm with some men, especially ones as mule stubborn as that one. Now, go let him in the front and I’ll get the vacuum ready. Those needles really do get everywhere.”

So Gansey opened the front door and followed Ronan to the living room. He put the tree down carefully and left. Gansey’s mouth hung open before he could even get a word out. But Ronan returned carrying live wreaths and garland.

“I left another load out on your porch for your outdoor shit,” Ronan said.

“Thank you! Oh, these are so lovely and fresh this year!”

Ronan harrumphed. He handed her a large cardboard box. “You might as well take these too.”

Patty peered inside and beamed. “You do have the best eggs in the county. Gansey, I’ll have a wonderful quiche for you tomorrow morning! No, maybe a frittata, I have a lovely recipe!”

“My girls do lay the best eggs around but how do I know that your cooking even shows them off—ow!” Ronan rubbed the back of his head where Patty had cuffed him then went on talking about her plans without even a pause.

“Now, Gansey, Shorty, you boys get the tree up and into that stand. I know you’ll mind and keep them needles off the carpet. Ronan, you come with me. You can bring down the decoration boxes.”

“I’m not your hired help! Get your own damn boxes…” Ronan’s complaints trailed off as Patty pushed him out of the room.

Gansey was glad he’d been pushed into service with Shorty who quietly and competently cut the tree wrap open and only needed a hand from Gansey to get the tree set up in the stand. He even looked with a critical eye and turned it so its best side faced the room.

“Lovely, just lovely,” Patty said when she returned with a Ronan laden with boxes in tow. “Shorty, just turn that tree a little bit to the right, yeah, that way, that’s perfect.”

Shorty looked at Gansey and winked while Patty ordered Ronan where to put the boxes and to go retrieve the rest. When he’d dropped the last of the boxes, he said with heightened sarcasm, “I suppose now you want me to actually decorate the damn thing too.”

“No,” Patty said brightly. “Shorty and I got it from here. Can’t have you messing up my lights and breaking my ornaments. What I want from you,” she pointed at Ronan, “is to get home safely before the snow starts.”

“Snow?” Gansey looked up in surprise from where he was untangling a string of lights. “What snow?”

“Jesus, Dick, don’t you watch the weather—Ha!” Ronan pulled back in time to miss another swat from Patty. She caught him with a pinch on the arm that made him yell. “Quit assaulting me, you old harridan!”

“They’re calling for snow, a couple inches maybe. It’ll get everybody in the mood for Christmas!” Patty said excitedly. “But, if you remember how it works in these parts any time we do get a snow, then you know the roads’ll be bad. So Ronan better high-tail it home.”

“I’m not opening the farm today,” Ronan admitted. “Thought I’d better take care of things here in town instead.” Not looking at Gansey he added, “Gotta get some groceries and supplies so I figured I’d drop off your stuff so you stop screaming at me through Gansey.”

“Well, we thank you kindly, Ronan. Do you need any help getting those chores done? Or getting your place ready for the snow?”

“Nah,” he said immediately, “I’m gonna feed early then just crash—what the hell?”

Although Gansey could only see the back of her head, it appeared Patty was making faces or mouthing words at Ronan because he was staring at her in mystified fascination.

She gave up and said aloud, “I wondered if you are sure. That you don’t want help. Or need someone to go back and stay at your farm. With you. Where y’all might be snowed in together?”

“Oh. Oh!” to Gansey’s amazed delight, Ronan’s cheeks reddened and his eyes flicked up to meet Gansey’s. “I mean, I can always use a hand. If someone wanted to. Uh, if Gansey wants to come… but you just left, man, I don’t want you to have to work so hard…”

“I’d love to,” Gansey said quickly. “If you don’t mind. I’d be more than happy to come stay again.”

Ronan smiled at him, Gansey smiled back, and Patty smiled at both of them. “Then you better go! Get!”

She shooed them out of the room and Gansey walked Ronan to the front door. “Are you sure you want me to come stay?” he asked in a low voice.

“I’ll always want you to stay,” Ronan said earnestly and it made Gansey’s face burn.

“Then I��ll pack some things and meet you there.”

“I gotta make some stops before I get there, so I’ll give you the key.”

“Why don’t I help you with the errands?”

Ronan pulled a torn and battered piece of paper out of his coat pocket. “I’d better get the groceries since everybody and their uncle will be out buying all the food in town in case we get a whole inch of snow. But if you wanna stop at the hardware downtown? They have my order ready, I already paid, if you could pick it up?”

“I remember it,” Gansey nodded. “I’d be happy to get it.”

“And if you wanna pick up sandwiches from that place on the corner? Do you remember them?”

“Oh my god, I’d forgotten how good they were! My second-favorite place in town besides Nino’s.”

“Then get us some for later,” and with a final little smile, Ronan left.

Patty was conspicuously not eavesdropping but she did look up when Gansey passed the living room. “Thank you,” he said with a smile and a nod at her and Shorty.

“You just take care of each other,” she said.

“Will you be okay here? Do you need any supplies or someone to shovel tomorrow?”

“No, we’ll take care of everything. You just go take care of Ronan. And I won’t check you out yet, but you should probably take your luggage. Just in case.”

Gansey mumbled thanks again and hurried to his room. He threw everything into his bags, put on his hat and gloves and left with another shout of encouragement from Patty.

The hardware store was crowded but not nearly as full as the grocery stores he passed. He felt bad for the shoppers who were going to meet an impatient Ronan in a busy grocery store.

Gansey had the order put in the back of his Range Rover while he walked down the street and ordered a couple sandwiches each. When he put them in the backseat, he uncovered a cake pan covered in aluminum foil. A little note attached told them to enjoy and he marveled at Patty’s, or more likely Shorty’s, sneakiness to get it into his vehicle while he packed.

Gansey kept his eyes peeled on the way to the Barns but he didn’t see Ronan or any snowflakes yet. He parked beside the house and wondered where to carry the supplies when Ronan pulled up in his beat-up old pickup truck.

They made short work of unloading the supplies onto the back porch and the groceries into the kitchen. Gansey had just shut the back door behind Chainsaw when he saw it.

“Lynch! It’s snowing!”

“Whoop-dee-fuckin’-do,” Ronan said, but he joined Gansey at the door. His body was a long line of heat against Gansey’s side, and he longed to cuddle up to it.

Instead, Gansey asked, “Shall we eat now?”

They made short work of the sandwiches which were just as good as Gansey remembered, and carefully avoided any personal talk. He watched out the window as snow flakes fell and whirled on the wind but didn’t stick to the ground yet.

“Do you want some of Patty’s cake? She said she was going to make it for you.”

“That old bat and her baking,” Ronan scoffed but he was already peeking under the foil. “Although it won’t have my eggs, I guess it wouldn’t hurt to try.”

They were sharing coffee when Ronan cleared his throat carefully. Gansey folded his hands in his lap and waited for whatever Ronan was apparently gearing up to say.

“I wondered… I mean, I was thinking if… if you want,” then he swore. “Maybe you got enough of it at Patty’s or you don’t want to at all, which fine, but I’m going to put up some Christmas decorations today.”

“That sounds like a wonderful idea, Lynch.”

“Really?”

“Yes! We can put on some Christmas music, and while the snow’s coming down, it’s the perfect time to decorate.”

“OK then.”

Ronan led them up to the attic where some of the dust-coated boxes were labeled by holiday. “I don’t usually bring this stuff out. A lot of it was Mom’s. But I just thought… maybe this year…”

“Just tell me what to carry,” Gansey said.

They untangled strands of white and colored lights then strung them around inside the house, around the windows, on the railings. They set out some porcelain trees and angels Aurora had collected. They also found a box of ornaments made by the Lynch boys as they grew up.

Gansey left Ronan in the hallway to go through the box in heavy silence after squeezing his shoulder in silent sympathy. After a while, Ronan handed him the little pieces one by one as they set them and hung them around the sitting room.

When Ronan found the family’s nativity set, Gansey helped him clear the coffee table so Ronan arranged it exactly the way he remembered Aurora did.

“This may be a very stupid question…”

“There is no such thing as a stupid question. Only stupid people who ask them,” Ronan interrupted.

Gansey tried again, “I thought that for a Christmas tree farmer you have very little holiday spirit. And now, I find myself wondering, are you even going to put up a tree for yourself?”

Ronan barked a laugh. “You’re right. I don’t usually have much holiday spirit. Usually Matty has to force me to do anything inside the house. But this year, I dunno, just felt like it. When Declan and Matty were here for Christmas, I’d put up whatever tree was left on the lot Christmas Eve. Most of the time, it looked like a Charlie Brown special.”

Gansey chuckled along with him.

“But since they’re up in Boston now, I wasn’t going to do anything. Just felt like it today.”

“I think it looks lovely,” Gansey said.

“On that note, I’m gonna go feed before this stuff starts sticking.”

“I’ll help,” Gansey insisted.

They made short work of visiting each barn to feed and water the animals and make sure everything was safe and snug. By the time they walked back to the house, the darkness had taken over and the snow was gently settling onto the grass and trees.

Ronan heated up some canned soup and made them grilled cheese. “I told you my cooking skills don’t amount to shit.”

“And yet, this is better than anything I could cook,” Gansey insisted.

Ronan started the dishwasher and turned to Gansey, his face wearing the same conflicted expression Gansey had seen earlier. He waited to see what Ronan would have to say next.

“Do you trust me?” was not what Gansey expected.

“Of course,” Gansey answered without any hesitation.

“I know we just came in a little while ago, but can you bundle up again? Go back out?”

“Certainly, give me a minute.”

Gansey thought he was wearing enough layers and pulled his stocking cap down over his ears, but Ronan slipped another larger Carhartt jacket over his shoulders. “Just in case,” Ronan said.

Gansey didn’t ask when Ronan grabbed an ax from the tool shed behind the house. He slung it on his shoulder and led the way across the field to the trees, illuminating their path with a large flashlight.

The fresh snow had covered all but the tallest grass and it was crisp, crunching under their boots until they got to the trees. When they entered the little wood, the snow was more of a suggestion, coating the bare ground where the branches overhead had not protected it.

Gansey was entranced by the silence, one of things he loved about snow. As it fell and settled on the ground, there was nothing but the lovely quietness as though it sucked up all the noisome worries in the world and covered them with pure whiteness. It also reflected even the dimmest light, so Ronan’s flashlight was magnified so they could see quite clearly.

Until he slipped and stumbled over a hidden tree root. Ronan turned back and swore. “Here,” he said and handed Gansey the flashlight. Then he held out his gloved hand and took Gansey’s.

Thus linked, they carried on farther into the forest.

By the time they got to wherever Ronan wanted to go, the snow had slowed. There were spruce trees ahead of them, not planted in the neat lines of Ronan’s carefully planned farm but scattered around and growing wildly.

“Dad planted these. He’s the one who wanted to have a tree farm. But he never got around to it. He just planted these for us, a couple for each of us as we were growing up. Said we could have them when we had family Christmases at the Barns,” Ronan’s quiet voice seemed to come from far and long away. “He never got to see them. But I always remembered.”

Gansey squeezed Ronan’s hand tightly.

It was an idyllic moment. Gansey looked up and saw the snow clouds had parted temporarily and stars were sparkling against the dark void of the night.

“You know, there’s a legend about the reason why we put lights on evergreen trees that we bring into our homes for Christmas. It’s said that Martin Luther was roaming in a German forest at Christmas and saw the stars twinkling in the sky among the boughs of the evergreen trees. He thought they were so beautiful that he went home and placed candles on a tree that he brought into his house. That’s just one of the stories behind Christmas traditions.”

Ronan cleared his throat and threw his head back to look up at the sky as well. “The goddamn Protestants, always fucking around and making things all about them,” he said.

Gansey had to laugh and turned his face into Ronan’s shoulder to stifle it. Ronan laughed too. Gansey said, “Of course, there’s an entire line of pagan traditions that have actually given us many of our holiday customs but none of the major religions like to admit that.”

“I guess not,” Ronan said. He glanced down at Gansey’s flushed face, so close to his own.

Gansey pulled away, just enough that he could get himself closer to Ronan’s front. He reached up and pulled Ronan down, and kissed him.

Ronan’s lips were chapped but warm, and he opened his mouth to Gansey’s. But he kept the kiss light, pulled away long before Gansey was ready.

“Gans, I don’t know…”

“I do know, Lynch. Ronan. I’m ready to try. If you’ll trust me.”

Ronan stared down into his eyes. “I never could say no to you.”

“Shall we go on another adventure together?”

Gansey kissed him again. This time, Ronan welcomed him in. The ax slipped from his hand, and he wound his arms around Gansey, holding him tightly. Gansey dropped his gloves off so he could cup Ronan’s cheek and neck. Ronan shivered.

They stood for a long time entwined, their mouths meeting again and again, Ronan nuzzling into Gansey’s hair, Gansey pressing his lips to Ronan’s neck and the soft spot below his ear.

Ronan shivered harder. “It’s snowing again,” he whispered into Gansey’s ear.

Gansey tipped his head up and caught a large snowflake on his glasses. This time the snow was coming down steadily, in large wet flakes that meant business. He opened his mouth and caught another snowflake on his tongue.

Ronan laughed at him and squeezed him tightly. Gansey laughed back.

Ronan kissed him again, licking into his mouth with a new heat and passion, perhaps uninhibited by the laugh, perhaps comfortable enough to act now on his feelings. Gansey’s head spun with the emotion and the rush of blood away from his brain.

When he broke the kiss this time, Gansey panted against Ronan’s chest and Ronan pushed up his cap to kiss his ear.

“We should go back to the house,” Gansey said.

“What about our tree?”

“I think,” Gansey said, “we should leave them here to grow a little longer. Until the whole Lynch family can celebrate together.”

“Okay,” Ronan agreed and let go of Gansey long enough to pick up the ax. The walk out of the woods back to house felt shorter now, but that might have been because he was step in step with Ronan who kept a long arm tightly around him.

“Look,” Gansey breathed when they caught sight of the field. All the grass was covered now along with the rooftops of the barns. The lights shining in the house windows glowed warmly. “It looks like a Christmas card painting.”

“Yeah,” Ronan said, squeezing him again. “I have to admit, I love snow. But fuck, am I going to hate shoveling it tomorrow.”

They were both shivering when they finally got to the house and laughing brushed the snow off each other. By the time they made it to the kitchen, both were red-faced and laughing and more than a little damp in places as they melted.

“Do you want…” “Can we…”

Ronan gestured for Gansey to go first. “Do you want something hot to drink?”

“Yeah. You want to bring it to the sitting room?”

Gansey did, and carried the drinks in. Ronan had turned on all the Christmas lights they’d put around that afternoon and stoked up the fire. He and Chainsaw waited for Gansey’s judgment.

“Delightfully charming,” he pronounced and handed Ronan his mug.

“Yeah, and the room isn’t half bad either,” Ronan joked.

Gansey settled down next to him and exhaled slowly. He couldn’t fully put into words or even thoughts how comfortable he felt or why, but he knew he’d never felt quite so wonderful in his life.

They sipped their drinks as the Christmas music played softly and the fire crackled. When Ronan set down his mug, Gansey was ready.

He pushed Ronan down on the couch so his head rested on the arm, and kissed him as hungrily as their last kiss in the woods. Ronan pulled Gansey down on top of him, twisting him so Gansey fit between his legs, and held him close.

Gansey was surprised but happy that they fit together so naturally. When Ronan moved one way, Gansey was ready to accommodate, and when he wished for Ronan to touch him there, it was like Ronan read his mind. Maybe this ease was what he’d been looking for all along.

Ronan flexed under him, holding him so tightly as if he were afraid Gansey would slip away. Gansey pressed down, assuring him that he wasn’t going anywhere.

It was hot and fast yet thorough and utterly enjoyable, and afterward, as Ronan held him and rubbed his back slowly, Gansey felt loved and cared for.

Ronan’s lips moved on his forehead. “Come to bed with me. To sleep. I’ll keep you warm.”

“Well, if you insist.”

CHAPTER 7

[stillaclownlol]

FROWNY.

I FINISHED THE BOOK.

UM. WHAT THE FUCK???

okay. so. Piper died??? Which kind of shocked me but she was literally making deals with a Demon so I’m not too upset. It was inevitable.

Um. GLENDOWER. THAT MOTHER FUCKER??? HE WAS DEAD ALL ALONG????? WHAT THE FUCK. Then Adam gets passed by the Demon and almost kills RONAN???? Damn. Okay. THEN RONAN ALMOST GETS UNMADE????? OKAY. THEN PERSEPHONE SHOWS UP??????? WTHAT. THE. FUCK.

Okay. GANSEY DIES. I mean. YeAh. Duh. But like. I was hoping he wouldn’t — but then. THEN CABESWATER REVIVES HIM??? He’s slightly less human than before and tbh I don’t mind that.

BUT ALSO. NOAH. MY SWEET SWEET BOY. HE WAS THE ONE WHO RESURRECTED GANSEY??

HE’S THE ONE WHO TOLD HIM TO LOOK FOR GLENDOWER??? (Well I guess not told but still!!!)

And Henry??? HENRY??? Oh my Lord he’s just shoe-horned into the group and I honestly am so happy he is. Because at least he has actual friends now?? And him Blue and Gansey are gonna go on a trip across the world??? HELL YEAH!!

And ADAM CONFRONTING HIS PARENTS??? That was so sad and sweet amdvskbejdbshjdhe. And Ronan??? UGH. ORPHAN GIRL HAS A NAME????

Holy shit this series was a wild ride and I’m honestly so happy you recommended it to me. I am in pain though. This book made me go through SO MANY emotions.

Exact Same reaction I had 💀

Yeah turns out making deals with giant wasp demons is...bad for your health...AND YEAH GLENDOWER WAS DEAD THE WHOLE TIME 😭 ADAM GETTING POSSESSED ALMOST BROKE ME ON FUCKING GOD WKHFOWHD SO DID RONAN GETTING UNAMDE AND AURORA DYING AKDKSHDKS AND

I'm so obsessed with how Maggie wrote Gansey's death I think about it constantly I slipped a little bit into a fic I wrote where Aiden does-

"He slipped quietly from time." DO NOT DO THIS TO ME WHAT THE HELL 😭

Hehshjsgdka yes in the next book you get some hints about him <3

It was so depressing to see him go through the future and see how his mom would ignore him even tho she was saying she still wanted to see him ☹️☹️☹️ like accurate bbut still...

YES HI OPAL MY DEAR LITTLE GOAT GIRL I LOVE YOU

Hehe I'm glad you liked it :) have fun with the dreamer trilogy ✨️ (they're even freaking longer)

[adamprrishcycle]

Okay, you want to talk Ronsey, you better buckle up! (This is going to be long, sorry!)

As the formerly known TRK Anon, I can confidently say that trc is still somewhat fresh in my mind, so I have lots of examples to support my argument. Now, given that I have only read the series once, my character analysis might not be as deep or intense as yours.

If you don't know already, I am a huge Gansey lover/supporter/follower/fan/worshiper/bitch. (Will Patton’s rendition of Gansey drives me absolutely feral!!!!) I have loved him since the very first time we know about his existence (Which is page 15 of TRB). If Gansey is part of the equation, I ship it! Bluesey, Ronsey, Declansey, Adansey, HELL…even Chengsey (I could care less about Henry, so the fact that I acknowledge this ship is a big gesture on my part) I just want to make it clear that I am not an Adansey hater, it's just not my kind of jam (*shrugs*)

I know that what Gansey means to me, Adam is to you. But Adam was tough for me. Like REAL TOUGH to discern. It was not until halfway through TRK (practically when Pynch becomes canon) that I was finally able to appreciate him, to see him eye to eye and say: You ARE knowable. I will give it to Adam, he has the best, most memorable, character growth/development in the entire series (Ronan being a close second). But his stubbornness during TRB/TDT was so unbearable to me. He was such a DICK to Gansey. And yes, there were instances when Gansey deserved it (like the hospital scene) but most of their interactions (at the beginning of the series) are somewhat tense. They are constantly walking on eggshells, afraid to trigger/offend/provoke the other. There are MULTIPLE references to them fighting pre-canon, mostly about money, occasionally about who owns who. The whole DC trip was so stressful for all parties involved. In fact, Adam was so unapproachable that Gansey and Blue kept their relationship a secret because of how difficult he had been back then. (Honestly, I think he would have unalive them both) Plus, he is a hypocrite (I guess we all are) because when the rent thing happens, he goes to Gansey first and throws a fit about it!! But when he finds out that Ronan actually paid his rent, he is “cool” about it. He doesn’t argue with him. He doesn’t feel offended. He just accepts it (it being both the money and the fact). The one thing that really upsets me is Adam wanting the favor for himself. I understand why he wants it, but he knows it is Gansey’s life purpose to find Glendower. It feels like a betrayal, you know? I just cannot stand people being mean to Gansey, it triggers me!!!!

And yes, I get it, there are some good moments between them. Like the call with Mallory when Gansey is trying to make Adam laugh. Or Adam fixing/diagnosing the pig. Or the two of them being ushers on Raven Day. But these moments are so…normal (mundane?) that they don’t feel special.

To me, Adansey is a somewhat “toxic” ship. It is a one-sided relationship, because Gansey gives and gives and Adam refuses to take. Adam practically (and literally) loathes? abhors? despises? everything that Gansey stands for (money, friendship, status, family, you get the gist). How can you possibly love someone that is the poster child of everything you hate?! I think Adansey would be the perfect ship for enemies to friends to lovers.

But Ronsey, oh my dear Ronsey!!!! To me, Ronsey is all about Gansey and Ronan meeting before Niall’s death. The way Gansey describes Ronan before his father’s death is so intoxicating. Gansey mourning the joyful boy that Ronan used to be. Gansey getting emotional over Ronan’s laugh. Gansey being completely and utterly amazed by Ronan’s dream creations (“You incredible creature”). Ronan being unconditionally devoted to Gansey. Ronan being devastated that Gansey has other friends; that Gansey is going to DC with Adam and not him. Ronan and Gansey. Gansey and Ronan. Maybe I am not making any sense right now because my brain convulses just thinking about these two.

They have been through it all. God, there are so many moments pre-canon that I wish we could get to experience. Can you imagine Gansey panicking at the hospital with Ronan’s blood in his hands? Can you imagine Ronan teaching Gansey how to punch?! I can’t remember if canon ever confirms how Gansey acquired his journal, but can you imagine if Ronan bought it for him!?!?!

@singersargentboi said it best: “The thing I love about Ronsey is that even in the books theres this sort of unhinged devotion between them that toes the line at being romantic/sexual.” Let’s unpack this together. Exhibit A) Kavinsky’s substance party. O.M.G. Gansey being such a deranged version of himself that even Ronan cannot stop smiling about it. (“What is it my dog needs?” JUST KILL ME ALREADY) Exhibit B) Ronan dreaming the keys to the Camaro in such a steamy delicate way that I am pretty sure he woke up with a tent in his pants. Exhibit C) Gansey bribing a full-grown adult for Ronan. Exhibit D) Gansey constantly scolding/disciplining/bossing Ronan and somehow stopping the Lynch brothers from killing each other. Exhibit E) Ronan going back home against his dad’s wishes, but still turns to Gansey for comfort (“Can I go and see mom?”) And if all of this does not convince you, I’ll leave you with this: “Gansey was far more of a brother to Ronan than Declan had ever been.”

However, I come to you with a peace offering, a secret third option: RODANSEY. Throughout the series it is constantly noted that 3 is the perfect number for magic ;)

THANK YOU FOR SPILLING YOUR THOUGHTS INTO MY ASK BOX 😍 this is delish and wow a HOT TAKE (to me, a simple woman who will live and die on the hill of adam parrish ����) although I understand your grievances from a protect-gansey-at-all-costs point of view! I think you’re right about them having the potential to be a toxic ship because of how much they fight. What’s funny to me is how it seems like they don’t understand each other… yet there’s at least 3 times in TRB alone where they communicate just by looking at each other which is amazing considering from what we know they have only been friends a few years but they’re that close and on that exact same level together. But then… they’re not. I think Adam has just had to rely on himself for so long that he can’t reprogram his brain to think differently, and gansey has had loving parents and a good sibling relationship and intense friendships therefore he can’t even begin to understand adam. They’re on diff planets right? They can’t relate to each other in any way shape or form. But then…. love comes along and makes it work??!??! This is why I’m an adansey girl.

BUT everything you said about ronsey…. That ferocious love I will never ever be over it ever 🥹 unhinged devotion is exactly right. And we all know the when I’m gone dream me the world quote but FOR ME it’s “he couldn’t say it, though. There were a thousand reasons why he couldn’t say it” like???? We were just supposed to move on from that? I can’t I wont.

(side note cuz I gotta defend my boy declan and say he is the best brother ever and I will not expand at this time bc spoilers but the dreamer trilogy will)

Rodansey…… now you’re talking my language. Truce? 🤝 thank u for this ask it’s made my day xx

[iammistressofmyfate]

Pet Play & Collars for Ronan/Gansey if it sparks joy? 👀👀

I love that you're picking all of the prompts that I've never written before! Making me flex my writing muscles! This was fun!! I hope you like it!!! 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰

68 & 86. Collars & Pet Play

[Kinky/Spicy Prompts]

Ronan stood very still, eyes closed, head bowed, as Gansey fixed the collar he’d placed around Ronan’s neck. It was tight, enough for him to feel it, but not too tight that it restricted his capacity to breathe. He could smell mint and the detergent he and Gansey shared, could feel the heat of Gansey’s body close to his. 

Ronan thought he would be more anxious about this, but he was surprisingly calm. This was Gansey, one of the few people left in the world that he trusted completely, that he would do anything for, so taking this step wasn’t really outside the realm of possibility for him. 

He was Gansey’s dog, through and through, and he didn’t feel like that was anything to be ashamed of. He was loyal and fierce and protective, and it was a nice feeling having those qualities appreciated and recognized. 

It sweetened the deal a little to know that he’d be rewarded for it, too. 

“How’s that?” Gansey asked and Ronan opened his eyes, looking down at Gansey. He’d taken his contacts out and was wearing his glasses, his brown hair handsomely mussed. He was looking at Ronan critically, assessing for discomfort. 

“Fine,” Ronan replied and Gansey smiled. 

“Good,” he hummed warmly. “Now, like we practiced, yeah?” 

Ronan nodded, watching Gansey step away, moving around the room purposefully, gathering his backpack, placing it close to his desk. He pulled a notebook and textbook out of it, settling things on his desk, and Ronan waited patiently. 

Gansey sat, turning to Ronan, beckoning with a finger. “Come.”

Ronan came. 

“Sit.” 

Ronan sank to his knees next to Gansey’s desk chair, looking up at him, holding himself still as he waited. Gansey was in a pair of basketball shorts and his polo shirt, barefooted, comfortable, settling in for an evening at home. Ronan was in nothing but his boxer-briefs. 

“Good boy,” Gansey hummed, warm and fond, stroking a hand over the curve of Ronan’s skull, petting. Ronan’s eyes slid closed, lips parting a little. He felt his cheeks go warm and heat traveled down his spine at the words, at the careful, affectionate touch. 

Gansey did that a few times, before brushing his thumb over Ronan’s cheek, and pulled his hand away, turning to his work. Ronan knelt obediently at his side, resting his head on Gansey's thigh when permitted to do so, receiving intermittent, absent-minded pets as Gansey worked. 

It wasn’t easy for Ronan to stay still for long. He didn’t like being idle, preferring to be moving, doing things, but he forced himself to stay where he was, because that was what he had been told to do. 

An obedient dog at the foot of his master.

By the time Gansey was done with his work, Ronan was a little stiff. He lifted his head, hands in his lap, watching Gansey put his books away, clearing off his desk. 

“You did so well,” Gansey praised and Ronan sat up straighter, blinking slowly. “Good job. What a good boy.”

Ronan licked his lips, lifting hopeful eyes up as Gansey turned his chair toward him. He was slumped in his chair, one elbow on an arm rest, his cheek leaned against his knuckles. 

“I did say you’d get a reward if you were good,” he mused and Ronan held himself as still as possible, body poised, waiting. His heart raced, heat pooled in his belly. His eyes flicked to the front of Gansey’s basketball shorts, which left very little to the imagination, and then back up to Gansey’s face. 

Gansey smiled knowingly at him. 

“Alright,” Gansey said. “You can use your mouth.”

Ronan shifted to move forward but Gansey held up a hand and Ronan froze. “Ah. Wait. Sit.”

Ronan sat back on his heels, practically vibrating. He watched as Gansey lifted his hips, tugging down his shorts. Ronan had seen Gansey’s dick before, had had it in his mouth, and his hand, and his response to seeing it was Pavlovian. He swallowed. 

“Come here, Ronan.” 

Ronan went, sitting between Gansey’s legs, eyes shifting from his cock to his face and back again. He licked his lips, resting his hands on Gansey’s thighs, and leaned in to lick at the head of Gansey’s cock. 

Gansey had a hand at the back of Ronan’s neck and Ronan could hear his quickened breaths. He closed his eyes, sucking on the head of Gansey’s cock, whining softly, tongue dipping into the slit, tasting him. 

Ronan moaned, taking Gansey down as far as he could, sucking him off with eagerness. 

“Oh,” Gansey murmured. “That’s good. You’re so good at this, Ronan.” 

This made Ronan redouble his efforts. Using his tongue, a light scrape of teeth, bobbing his head. 

“Touch yourself,” Gansey commanded and Ronan did, hastily shoving a hand into his underwear, pushing the elastic down just enough to get a hand around his own cock, jerking off in time with blowing Gansey. 

He could tell Gansey was close, the way he made progressively louder noises, how he had a hand on Ronan’s neck, the other gripping Ronan’s shoulder. Gansey very rarely swore but Ronan heard him say a few choice words, which only spurred Ronan on. 

Ronan allowed himself to relax, let Gansey fuck his mouth. He opened his eyes, feeling them tear, looking up at Gansey, watching him come. He was always handsome, but there was something more about the way he leaned back, mouth open, gasping. 

Ronan swallowed, giving himself a few more firm strokes before he came, Gansey’s cock still in his mouth. He was breathing harshly through his nose and Gansey sat up, stroking both his hands over Ronan’s head. 

“What a good boy you are,” he sighed, pressing a kiss to the top of Ronan’s skull after Ronan let him slide from his mouth. He was still breathing hard and Gansey pulled him closer, holding him. Ronan leaned into him, closing his eyes. 

“Such a good boy, Ronan.”

Ronan whined softly and Gansey hummed, kissing his forehead. 

“C’mon. Let’s get cleaned up.” 

Ronan obeyed.

FIN 

[smokeandjollyranchers]

Let’s do our best to kill our own funk by projecting hard on a funkless character shall we?

It’s the unfamiliarity, Gansey thinks, that makes it so hard to look away.

Perhaps he’s heard the word “no” less than most people. Perhaps he’s just fought against being told no longer and vehemently, ever since he nearly said yes, breathing his last as a child, the sound of buzzing still echoing in his chest. I don’t quite think I enjoy being denied. He hums, mind slow but still unable to lose consciousness. Which brings him to the same place it always takes him, the soft beat of his heart, the only noise in the open warehouse he’s made his home.

Then again, for someone who doesn’t like being told no, the voice that he often seeks first, in the haze, in the silence, in the sorrow, is the first one to tell him no. Gansey can’t close his eyes, not right now, because if he does he’s going to be met with the small pieces he’s collected, the pull of smile on a split lip; the silent shake of laughter on shoulders already carrying the world, the absolute rage staining eyes that shift from blue to green to brown to gold to blue—disgusted at the idea of Gansey’s help.

On anyone else, his dulled, slow mind offers. You would hate that face

Fuck, he would rather be asleep right now. He moves his head, eyes falling on the miniature city he lords over, a giant against the Henrietta skyline both in and outside of Monmouth. He tries so hard to settle into a place that will never be big enough, but he tries. He needs to make the trailer park next, but his traitorous hands clench into fists at the idea. He doesn’t want to make the one corner of this beautiful little city that makes him ill, he doesn’t want to create a little trailer, knowing his perfectionist mind will insist on adding that crack in the siding that he couldn’t help but notice was exactly at Adam’s head height, didn’t want to create the small graveyard of cars that Adam would hide himself under when he knew Gansey would be coming. He doesn’t want to make the tiny door that always houses that empty eyed woman in it, the one that makes his jaw clench and temper flare.

Adam’s mother watches him like a hawk every time he comes over, like she wants to say something. Like she wants to say nothing. Like she’s the sentry who’s only orders are to keep Adam close enough that he stays miserable. To keep him from reaching enough water, enough sun, to keep his roots half dead and desperate on what little sustience they can find. If Gansey searches back through his entire day, his entire life, his mothers eyes were always alight, excited, loving.

How could you feel nothing toward what you’ve created? Gansey arguably has only created stories, things he dreams and hopes and wants to be real, and these dreams, these ideas, he loves them. He loves mystery and hope. He loves the faith and the trust and he loves the people who return his own faith, hope and love to him. How could she not—

I hate your parents, Gansey imagines saying, to Adam. No preamble, no tip toes, none of that editing that Gansey carefully does before he speaks to Adam. Nothing but the truth from one Richard C. Gansey III.

And the moment makes him feel so light, right up until he has to imagine Adam’s eyes the millisecond after he finishes speaking. He and Adam don’t tell each other the truth. Not like this. Not when Adam hasn’t admitted it’s a truth. He hates ultimatums, he hates having to chose, he hates perimeters and confusing boundaries and the way people who are trapped in darkness seem to dig their feet in and refuse to save themselves.

On anyone else… the voice in his head is more awake now, more angry. You would hate that face.

Gansey wonders if it means something that he doesn’t hate that face when Adam is wearing it. A deep, deep thought in his mind, in his chest, hits his bloodstream like epinephrine, toes and fingers going numb like he’s had to use the pen he carries around with him. Like he narrowly skirted death. Again.

Problem is, you’ll let that face keep hating you.

It’s a mean, bitter voice, and Gansey isn’t quite sure if it’s his or not. He doesn’t often dwell in mean, bitter thoughts. They aren’t helpful, they aren’t productive, they aren’t befitting of a Gansey.

Besides, that face doesn’t hate him, at least he really doesn’t think so. Adam does not have the patience to put himself through any sort of encounter that he doesn’t want to be in. He won’t entertain anything beneath him, so long as Adam makes the ruling something is beneath him. Adam won’t put up with the constant prattle of their classmates, or even some teachers. Adam will go home to the same trailer every day, and maybe die at his father’s hands.

Why isn’t that beneath you?

Gansey sits up in his bed, sheets falling from him, comforter long kicked off and abandoned. He presses the heels of his hands into his eyes, until stars explode in his eyelids, and it makes his chest ache. We can make our own stars, we can make our own world, so little can stop us, and you go home to Death.

“How aren’t you afraid of it?” Gansey mutters into the darkness, like somehow he can reach Adam in his dreams, in the ether, in the other. “What has happened to make you so unafraid of death?”

Gansey knows his classics, Gansey has been moved by Odysseus, he’s been smitten with Achilles, he has run after each mythical king knowing that he means to stand among them someday. But he is terrified of the darkness, the dance with the Reaper, the buzzing sound that stopped his heart. He’s paralyzed by death, for how gleefully he wishes to spit into its face. And Adam? Adam wants to live, he’s made of fire and spite and anger and an unstoppable force. But the light dims and the fire dies when he gets closer to his home. Someone else leaves Gansey’s car to walk up those steps, and it makes him sick even now.

Gansey exhales, and it seems to echo through the open air. He narrows his eyes, and flops back on his bed, trying to ignore the phantom feeling of insect-like feet crawling on his skin. Something is wrong. He decides, firmly.

Something is wrong, and he can’t hear Ronan screaming, there’s no nightmares plaguing the angriest Lynch, there’s no noise from Noah’s room, which is ideal and typical. Noah keeps long, quiet hours when the sun goes down, and it’s no different now. There is nothing wrong. There is nothing wrong in Monmouth.

Gansey closes his eyes, hard, screwing them shut against the implication of this feeling. You can’t even call him. Is he alive? Did they kill him? Will they tell you if they did? Will you go to pick him up and there will just be police cars and that woman’s empty eyes watching him from the porch. Would she fucking cry? Does she know you’re her child?

He’s on his feet. He’s on his feet and grabbing his keys and he has to stop himself. Since when does Gansey stop himself, but he stands, the moonlight from the high up windows pulling his shadow into long, splintered directions. You can’t go. The voice in his head hisses, desperate and low, the hair on the back of his neck standing up as Adam seemingly speaks directly to his heart. If you go and they hear you, you wake them—

Gansey throws his keys against the wall, grateful for any noise to interrupt the way that voice sounded afraid even in his own head. He can’t go on like this, but Adam will insist on it. He will insist on bruises and beatings and missing the school day he cares so much for he puts up with this life. What is the point of getting everything you want at the cost of everything you are? Adam is smart. Smarter than this. Smarter than him, so how did he logic this out in his head? How is accepting the help, accepting his help, somehow worse than being beaten to death?

Why in the fucking world would Adam rather die than just. Live. Survive. Thrive?

Ain’t one of your fucking dolls, Gansey.

Christ, Gansey thought, taking in a shaky breath as he hears the thought. Jesus fucking Christ.

They aren’t his. That’s what’s so fucking frustrating. Ronan isn’t his, Noah isn’t his. Adam isn’t his. Why can’t Adam understand that, when Ronan never didn’t understand it? Gansey is theirs. He belongs to them.

Maybe he doesn’t want you.

Gansey sighs, pressing the hell of his hand to his eyes, heartbeat suddenly intensely noticeable behind his eyelid. If he doesn’t, he offers the voice, coolly. Then he could just say so.

But Adam doesn’t say that. Adam doesn’t…he doesn’t act like he doesn’t want Gansey around. Most of the time. Some of the time. All of the time. It’s only when Gansey pushes, that he takes steps back. But if Gansey doesn’t push, how long before they’re at a small service for a boy with eyes that are never the same shade, standing several hundred feet back so as to not pull ire from the people that killed their son.

God. God.

Gansey is tired. But that night, he’s more afraid to wake up than he is to sleep, a bad feeling settling across his bones, his heart, his eyes, vision swimming and the echoing of a grunt desperately hidden by the person making it.

Stop. He offers his mind, quietly. Uncharacteristically small, even in his own head. Please. Please stop showing this to me. He’s fine. He’s okay.

Sleep doesn’t come, but the sun does, hours later, where Gansey is found curled up in his small city, a giant among men, ruining cardboard with what could be sweat but is unfortunately tears. Gansey listens to Ronan come alive, hears Noah’s voice without hearing his door, and he sighs.

He’s fine, he’s okay. He’s fine, he’s okay.

Please. The voice in his head whispers, mantra long having become a prayer. Please.

Please let that face that hates me be there today.

[lizpaige]

If you’re still taking prompts, I’d love to read 33 and/or 82 for pynch! 🥰

still totally taking prompts, thanks for the ask, anon! ✨ it's a lil rough and not my best, but hope you enjoy it! Send me a prompt! 33. kissing scars/hurts 82. fighting together

Ronan saw the Hondayota parked in front of the house before he saw Adam. He had spent all day fixing the back fence and chasing Opal when she stole some of the tools, nails, and posts. He hadn’t actually expected to see Adam today. He had school and work and no doubt more college applications. 

He searched the house for Adam, but couldn’t find him. Walking room to room he called his name. Eventually Opal ran through the back door, “stop shouting! He’s in the long barn.”

Sure enough, Opal was right. Ronan entered the long barn to the sound of a chain squealing and hard impact. He found Adam beating the shit out of an old dreamt leather punching bag. 

“Parrish.”

Adam didn’t hear him or decided to ignore him. Another blow hit the bag; it swung back from the impact and forward again into Adam’s waiting fist. Ronan stepped up behind the bag, holding it steady. Adam’s eyes, bloodshot and red, stared at Ronan. Sweat beaded at his temple, jaw clenched tight, anger aflame in his gaze. Ronan raised an eyebrow, challenging him to continue. While he never really saw Adam get angry like this, he knew what this kind of anger meant.

Gansey would want to talk it out or take a walk, clear his head. Blue would shout and speak her mind. Ronan looked for something to burn. Adam normally stormed off when he was mad at one of them, but whatever happened today, it seemed like he just needed to hit something. And Ronan was happy to hold the bag for him. 

“Don’t pull your punches,” Ronan said when he felt the force of the blows retreat. “C’mon, Parrish.” 

He nearly staggered back at the next strike, but held steady. There was a rhythm to his hits, methodical like everything Adam did. There was a reason, a purpose, a thought for every beat against the bag. Ronan studied his face, the veins in his forehead, the flush of his cheeks, his dry lips as he exhaled shallow breaths. 

Eventually, Adam’s arms fell to his side and he fell back a step, taking deep, heaving breaths. Ronan let go of the bag, coming around with a hand outstretched, taking Adam’s unwrapped and bruised knuckles and turning them gently to assess the damage.

“Feel better?” he asked, glancing up at Adam’s face. His eyes were glazed, wet with unshed tears of frustration, embarrassment. 

“Not really,” Adam mumbled back, wincing as Ronan grazed a raw patch of skin. He let Ronan guide him over to a chair against the wall, watched Ronan dig through a pile of dreamt objects to pull out a very ordinary looking first aid kit, and open it up.

“You going to tell me what happened?” 

“Just needed-” Adam’s voice trailed off, staring straight ahead, gaze unfocused. Then the tears fell. Adam pulled his hand away from Ronan to furiously wipe them away. 

“Adam.”

“Just leave me alone,” Adam whispered furiously, looking down at his lap, hiding his face. “I can clean up myself.”

Ronan knelt down in front of him and reached out to take Adam’s left hand, pressing a kiss to the bruises blooming at his knuckles, the dry calluses on his palms and fingertips. He pulled back, meeting Adam’s gaze, watery and exhausted, defeated and ashamed. 

“Let me help.” 

Adam let out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding and said, “okay.” 

[astromechs]

gansey i love your mind so i'm gonna just add your tags to my post, because they absolutely both do have a propensity for the kind of absolutist choice that they will destroy themselves to see through. cassian looks at the guy who's trying to kill him and says "kill me or take me in," and then spends the next several years letting the rebellion slowly kill him, piece by piece, whittling him down into barely more than a weapon to be used until he ultimately dies (i'm so normal about what i'm going to see in andor season 2); you can look at either version of wanda and see this, whether it's the comic version who willingly locks an eldritch horror in her own soul to protect everyone else and sets herself up to die and go through the resurrection protocol to improve it for the mutants she's harmed, or it's the mcu version of wanda, who, among many examples, gestures at the entire movie of multiverse of madness lmao (which i would argue is in-character for wanda, the arc was just rushed).

anyway i'm rambling about nonsense again and if i end up writing a fic or something i only have myself to blame

do you ever put so much thought into two characters completely independently that you start to consider what it would be like to put them together

[tarvastries]

absolutely OBSESSED with media where fate is an ever-present hand on your shoulder and breath in your ear. my specialty is going bonkers over how everyone tells patroclus and achilles what will happen if they go to troy but they go anyway in tsoa, losing my mind over howl trying his best to avoid the witch’s curse in hmc but inadvertently following the curse to the letter, eating drywall about all the prophecies and foretellings about gansey and blue and noah and adam and ronan, curled in a corner thinking about aelin’s arc throughout the tog series that culminated in such a simple but devastating phrase (“no one”), screaming crying throwing up about heroes and villains and ordinary people who were told how the story ends and only find out when it’s too late that by trying to sidestep fate they actually walked right into its long-waiting, eternal arms just like it had planned from the very start. i want stories where there is no twisting fate or avoiding what was spoken over you long before you were born, stories that are truly tragic because to get through every day we cling to the hope that we can defy expectations, so when we read or watch or listen to a story where the tapestry of the future is too tightly woven and the characters are suffocating, stuck in the threads, we weep out of fear that one day we will suffer the same, or maybe gratitude that it hasn’t happened yet

[andrea-lyn]

The Recs (Less Travelled)

I’m excited to bring you the first installment of my ‘roads less travelled’ recs! I will be doing another round of this, probably once the Ted Lasso fic tag hits about 25 pages, and then I’ll also grab a couple more fandoms to collect in there! 

The Rules:

Each fandom/pairing was sorted on Archive of Our Own by completed works. Anything recced here was not in the first ten pages when sorted by kudos at the time of reccing. There may be some more well-known authors on this list, but the specific fics I’ve picked are ones that didn’t crack that top ten or just didn’t get much traction and I think deserve it, so hopefully I have also balanced it out with other under the radar (and still great!) works. As ever, I have a pinned post of my other recs (none have been duplicated from there), so you can also check those out! Under the cut you’ll find 10 recs in each fandom for:

Raven Cycle

Roswell New Mexico

The Old Guard

Inception

Star Trek (mainly Kirk/McCoy)

The Raven Cycle

savor all the little pieces by littlelionvanz

“Since when do you garden?”

Ronan snorted, “Since I grew up on a fucking farm, genius. Jesus who gave you permission to pursue higher education.”

the old grip of the familiar by littleseal

"There is a single black feather and a printed out picture of Gansey, Blue and Cheng standing in front of some fucking monument Ronan didn’t care enough to remember the name of. Gansey sent it to Ronan’s phone some time ago, but it sat in his messages until Adam picked it up and grinned at it so hard that, one afternoon later, Ronan cursed and kicked and glared his old printer back to life in order to print it out.

Fuck, he thinks, I’m in love with a hoarder."

Adam collects things. Ronan is in love with him.

No Sweeter Innocence Than Our Gentle Sin by gansey_is_our_king

Ronan Lynch has wanted to kiss Adam Parrish for a long time.

(alternately titled: four times that Ronan could have kissed Adam)

Cheers to Another Seven Years! by skyermirth

Adam left Henrietta for Harvard and never returned. Now, seven years has passed, and an unexpected work assignment has brought him back to a place and people he hardly recognizes.

Row, row, row your boat by emmerrr

“What. Why are you smiling at me,” he says suspiciously.

Adam shrugs. “You’re cute.”

“I’m not cute, I’m terrifying.”

“Terrifyingly cute,” Adam says.

and now the world is ours to take / and every single move is ours to make by thatlittleblackcat

"Adam was the scientist, Ronan was the data, and Orphan Girl was the key that explained the strange outliers that Ronan presented, his previously unexplainable actions."

//

Adam sorts out his feelings, Ronan helps him, Gansey is the number one dad friend, Blue is the number one mom friend and Henry tries to make Ronan smile. Otherwise known as the story of how Orphan Girl became Opal.

All These Things You Make Me Feel by SilverOpals394

It was late. Adam could feel the long day catching up to him as he left Boyd’s, all his energy exhausted. When he started his car, the tape deck whirred to life once more. He sighed and raised his hand to turn it off, but before he did a soft melody began to play.

AU in which the mixtape Ronan made for Adam only plays the murder squash song until Adam realizes he's in love with Ronan, too.

Ways to Communicate by Jalules

Blue Sargent reflects on an early memory (and gets busy with her boyfriends.)

(The two things are related, trust me.)

Hold Me Closer, I'm Safe in Your Arms by actuallyronanlynch

“You wanna tell me why I had to hear from Henry Cheng that my boyfriend was at the hospital?” Adam hissed, though his voice wasn’t as acidic as it could’ve been. Ronan took small victories where he could.

“You don’t have a cellphone,” Ronan pointed out flatly. “It’s not like I could’ve gotten a hold of you.”

arts and crafts and the inevitability of death by sunshineinthestorm

Adam comes to the public library in search of a study spot, not a boyfriend. 

But it must be his lucky day—because he ends up with a bit of both.

 Roswell New Mexico

a conversation between insignificant others by Bellakitse

“Hey…have you noticed that our boyfriends are madly in love with each other?"

“You noticed that too, huh,” she answers dryly, letting out a huff of reluctant amusement.

***

Forrest and Maria share a drink and a conversation and start a friendship.

Own Personal Hell by BeStillMySlashyHeart

Now that Isobel's getting the hang of her telekinesis, Michael decides to test out his telepathic abilities. It backfires. Badly. Now Michael's trapped inside his own mind and only one person can break him out.

Drop the Hammer by brightloveee

Max makes a new friend at the shooting range, who turns out to be even more bad-ass than he expected.

(Takes place mid-S1)

Boys Like You by forgadgetsandgizmos

Curly, dirty blond hair (the mere description ‘curly’ felt like an injustice) twisted in every direction off his head, a sharp contrast with the scruff darkening his strong jawline and scowl-ridden face.

Alex made a mental note to compliment Maria on her excellent taste in men.

—

Or, Alex has coffee with Maria's one-night stand, a man who he definitely does not have a crush on.

let's exchange the experience by lostin_space

Michael decides they need to quarantine.

OR

Michael floods Alex with love and care over and over and over.

This Is Hardcore by Anonymous

Michael makes a proposal. Alex accepts. Michael wonders what the hell he’s gotten himself into.

i don't know what to think (but i think of supernovas) by Milzilla

michael discovers that the console can talk. then, he discovers it can do far more than that.

iridescence on skin by Lire_Casander

In a world where (almost) everyone has a tattoo on their right wrist with one set of coordinates that point to the place where their soulmate is born, Alex thought he wouldn't be any different. He couldn't be more mistaken.

He has two.

The Real Thing by elliebird

Max checks on Michael the morning after Michael saves Max’s ass from Wyatt Long and his dumbass buddies. He sees more than he’s supposed to.

Written for a Tumblr anon who one of their friends walking in on them or anyone of them finding out about Michael and Alex in an interesting way 

Sundering by romancandles 

“You know it was just an Air Force balloon, right?” says Alex.

Michael smirks. “That’s what they want you to think,” he says, with a wink.

The Old Guard

Peer Reviewed by ishandahalf

[From:] Journal of Medieval Studies (jms.eds@jms.com)

[Subject:] Ad-hoc note from the editor

I have noticed an uncommon level of animosity in your responses to your reviewers (or rather, one reviewer in particular). I am writing to ask if you would please do your best to keep your interactions civil. In fairness, I have also sent a similar request to the reviewer you seem to have this friction with. I trust you will both try and remain more professional in the future.

Again, thank you for submitting your work to this journal.

Sincerely,

James Copley, PhD

Editor-in-Chief

Journal of Medieval Studies

An (accidental) academic epistolary romance as (inadvertently) documented via a (theoretically) rigorously blinded peer review process.[citation needed]

third for a word and the song keeps going Macremae

It was honestly shaping up to be a pretty uneventful year before the Vatican got on Nicky’s bad side.

Or: three times in 2008 that the team genuinely thought about killing Nicky if only to get him to shut up about the changes to the Catholic English Mass and his unrelenting opinions on them, and one time Nile did.

Apex Predators In Island Ecosystems (Freeman et al., in press) by Sixthlight

Palaeobotany PhD student Nile Freeman and her supervisor Joe al-Kaysani are invited to billionaire Stephen Merrick’s new project – a theme park full of cloned dinosaurs. What could possibly go wrong?

This Rough Magic by Marivan

When Joe came to Scotland to study the sea, he did not expect to also encounter a beautiful man claiming that A. he’s a selkie and B. they’re married because Joe picked up his scarf.

It sounds like a fairy tale and that’s a problem. Because Joe’s a scientist. And selkies don’t exist.

Wars for the broken by Yuliares

Five years into his exile, Booker is joined by a companion he never expected to meet. Together, they try to work on healing.

Sometimes they go down to the sewers just so she can scream and scream. “I like to hear it echo,” she explains. “Underwater, you can’t hear anything. Here, at least I can be heard.”

“I don’t feel like a warrior anymore,” she tells him, throwing bread crumbs at pigeons. “I feel broken.”

“You’re still a warrior,” he says roughly. “This is still fighting.”

a good (eighth) impression by deanniker

Over the next few months, Joe runs into Nicky every so often at the farmer’s market. Some weekends Nicky doesn’t make it, because of his work schedule - Joe doesn’t understand it because he doesn’t ask, though he does start to recognize when one of those missing weekends is coming up because Nicky will stock up on things with longer shelf-life. When they do run into each other, they make small talk and move through the stalls together.

Joe doesn’t mention it to Lykon when he stops by, because it is kind of weird, that Lykon’s ex-boyfriend texts Joe things like - If you’re here, the apples look particularly good this week and thank you for that recipe, I did not know what I was going to do with that much couscous

Or,

Joe wouldn't usually consider starting anything with his best friend's ex, but as long as they keep it casual, it shouldn't be weird... right?

get back to where you once belonged by tenderjock

Nile takes a sip of her cappuccino and closes her eyes.

(Booker and Nile get that coffee. Life happens, along the way.)

a house; a home by mehm

“Is this a kidnapping?” Joe asks as Nicky checks both their seat belts. “Like, I don’t mind. It’s just not quite what I expected for my birthday.”

In which Joe gets a birthday surprise, because that’s the stuff you have time for when you and the love of your life become mortal at the same time.

the ties that bind by damaskrose

“There’s a story I heard many times,” Andy begins, “in the Mediterranean. Threads of fate and three sisters. One to spin, one to measure, and one to cut.”

Clutter And Croutons by flawedamythyst

Joe and Nicky have an argument, and then Nicky talks to Nile about what it really means to be in a relationship for 900 years.

Inception

My Big Fat Slightly Annoying Wedding by jibrailis

Arthur and Eames elope for ~tax reasons. Certain people in their lives are not happy at the lack of a wedding.

Remember Sydney by pathera

When Eames shambles into the safe house outside of London, he finds a red light blinking on the phone.

For the inception_kink prompt:

Arthur is on a plane which is about to crash. No way anyone is going to survive. Instead of panicking he calmly calls the team's office and gets the answering machine. He hangs up before the plane crashes.

Give me Arthur's last message to the team.

 (TW: Character Death / Angst)

Of Such Deceitfulness and Suavity by delires

In which emotions manifest themselves in unusual ways.

YO, K2tog (it's like a code) by lazulisong

“Oh my God,” moans Arthur. “I’ve paid less for Somnacin. Good Somnacin.” A horrible thought strikes him. “How much is the yarn --”

“I want you to have an unguarded reaction,” Eames tells him, and pulls him up from the floor.

(They run an extraction on a knitter.)

hit the ground running by orphan_account

"I travelled halfway around the world for you. I dealt with the French for you."

Valley by wldnst

It's an old story: a knight, a prince, a kingdom in peril.

If This Is Rain Let It Fall On Me and Drown Me by Brangwen

We used to be so brave, Eames thought. Of the two of them, Arthur had always been the more fearless.

a gentle familiarity by jollypuppet

Two weeks later, Eames is on his doorstep with bad Italian takeout and a grin, and Arthur tells him he can sleep on the couch.

Your Crisis Cannot Be Completed As Dialed by sevenimpossiblethings

Arthur doesn't do snow, Ariadne is determined to be as Midwestern as possible, and blizzards make cell phone service unreliable.

Let’s Say I Do (I Do) by xsilverdreamsx

There were, perhaps some things worse that this, Arthur thinks, as he glares at the letter in his hand with his name printed clearly in bold ink, indicating his presence in two weeks for his esteemed marriage to one William H. Eames, III, at St. Catherine's Church in London, England.

Star Trek (predominantly Kirk/McCoy)

Show the World That Something Good Can Work by knune

Leonard McCoy is a doctor, not a personal assistant, and maybe that's why he can't stand working for Jim Kirk.

It's in the little things by winterover

Bones is bemused by a persistent secret admirer.

"Wedding" Away with It by pendrogon

One morning, Bones wakes up and he's single. By the same afternoon, he's married to Jim Kirk for Arbitrary Fic Reasons(TM).

How Long Will You Stay (For Your Whole Life) by withthepilot

Jim Kirk, deputy director of the Enterprise parks and recreation department, sees all of his hard work fall to pieces when budget specialist Leonard McCoy arrives from the state capital to cut Jim's budget and threaten the livelihoods of his colleagues. But thanks to a major parks project, Leonard finds a place in the department, as well as in Jim's life—and when all is said and done, Jim doesn't want him to leave.

All-Time Favorite by mardia

What to do when your best friend suddenly starts making new friends. 

Joy Ride by Cards_Slash

While running for their lives from an alien species Kirk had accidentally enraged, they come across a car. And well, if you were to come across a car while being chased by aliens that wanted you dead, and you possessed some lingering knowledge of how to drive a car similar to said car, you would have decided to drive it toward the nearest cliff too.

Also a gunfight.

Syncytia by epistolic

He’d signed up for Starfleet on an impulse, but Starfleet meant James Tiberius Kirk: the first – and second, and third, and fourth – big mistake of Leonard McCoy’s life.

Renovation by canistakahari

Jim has a whammy put on him by an alien death ray and he suddenly craves domesticity. He's crazy with longing to shop at space!Ikea and get potted bamboo and he starts looking into adopting AND HE HATES HIMSELF AND CANNOT CONTROL THE SHIT. Luckily, McCoy is drunk all the time and plays house.

17:08 by butterflycell

She'd watched the news holos with a sick feeling, searching for information that was completely obvious in its absence. Amidst the reports of the the Enterprise's miraculous recovery and the damages sustained, there had been next to nothing about the crew or her captain. Jim had been mentioned only in passing, his name shied away from as his first officer limited interaction to the bare essentials.

The Honey of Hybla by shrift

"Bones, prepare to be my date."

[girl4pay]

This might be a big question but what would be the ideal way for the raven king to have ended in ur opinion. Bc it doesn’t make sense as is and thematically falls apart I feel but I can never quite figure out what the actually most narratively satisfying thing would be

lets get married. okay keeping in mind i haven't read the series in full in a couple years my core issues with trk are: i think gwenllian was criminally misused, i think adding in laumonier and blue's dad made very little sense and i think doing the gansey noah and cabeswater deaths back to back the way they were was a terrible way to handle a climax. you don't need blue's dad and you don't need laumonier. too many random new parents and men who are absolutely vestigal. gwenllian should be blue's mentor, you focus the piper plotline completely on a professional antagonism between her and henry's mom who can act as the antithesis to piper's greed and recklessness. the grey man is the reader's familiar link between Crime and Magic here, so you can still have him face the challenge of his old life threatening his new life by having to forge an alliance with seondeok to take down a shared threat. 

gwenllian as blue's mentor would come with a similar but almost opposite effect to persephone's mentorship on adam: blue isn't getting stranger, she's getting angrier. this witch who knows what she is keeps getting mayo in her hair and her teachers don't understand her and her family is being evasive and the boy she loves is going to die. also a demon is clouding her perspective, but she doesn't really know that yet. more adam and blue scheming to keep gansey alive. more research and bugging relatives and desperately looking into rituals while it becomes clearer to the reader that adam is losing his agency and blue is losing her clearsightedness. gansey's panic attacks begin to attune themselves to the moments where noah is not himself as well. his chest hurts, he can't breathe - it feels like something is sucking away at his heart. at the same time adam is still trying to help ronan with waking up the dreams, and blue is getting closer to gansey and henry, trying to imagine a future that feels like her own when she has the weights of her confused identity and her fate hanging around her neck. 

i would have ronan and gansey's relationship blow up here: between the hospital and aurora's death, maybe after his birthday party, ronan finds out - probably through declan, to add insult to injury and even more fucked up brother resentment - that gansey is trying to buy him a diploma. actually definitely just after the night of truth bullshit for prime outrageousness lmao. it goes nuclear. blue is, catastrophically to gansey, on ronan's side. adam is, infuriatingly to everyone, judgmentally neutral. things progress as they were except instead of henry getting kidnapped we get a very reluctant henry passing a message to tgm - things have progressed past the point that is acceptable with piper, and his mother wants to meet. also the visit with gansey's family is tense - they love her and henry, and they just can't understand what's gotten into gansey, who's distracted and snappy, and when helen confronts him, he blows up at her, saying a lot more about his worry for ronan and his fear about what will happen to him than was revealed in the initial fight. they're siblings, their relationship can handle it, but there's still an overarching sense that she doesn't really understand, because gansey is still holding his real fear of dying close to his chest. 

cut to auroras death and the grey man having to leave maura with this tragedy to join seondeok - a king, joining a king, doing what needs doing, instead of just a continued trope about being made for violence or whatever that was. there scene with ronan at the bmw goes more or less the same. gansey goes off on his own because he feels isolated and like the burden of fixing all this lies on his shoulders, gwenllians weird witch pep talk goes to blue instead. here is where you would insert cool fun shit about what being a mirror actually means! all of them reunite as in canon, ronan and gansey reconcile after ronan is like you dumb motherfucker i need you here you're my brother and gansey says some self sacrificing shit and blue and adam make it clear without Making It Clear they are going to stand by him, because they still don't know he knows he's going to die. 

here is where we reach the core difficulty: i think the death kiss is incredibly stupid and i don't know how i would write around it. i know how i would finish trk from here, but the kiss curse would not show up at all. i like the kiss curse as a concept but it just doesn't make any sense in the narrative of agency trc constructs and i think it limit's blue's storyline. so without considering the kiss curse: as the demon hijacks adam and tries to use blue as an amplifier to spread to other ley lines, everyone realizes the stakes. everything cabeswater has touched, everything the ley line has touched is at risk, and the ley lines are ALL CONNECTED. blue and adam have been skirting around the realization that the demon and cabeswater are like mirrors the whole book. you can't have one without the other. there is no corruption without something to corrupt. the way cabeswater focuses the ley line for ronan is how the demon has been getting power too, but it's a self contained loop, consumption instead of guidance. kill cabeswater, kill the demon. gansey asks it, realizing in a way they others don’t seem to that he and cabeswater are linked, and the others act. there's a little giving tree moment between ronan and cabeswater, which will surely not contribute to any farreaching survivors guilt that might show up in a sequel series. here is where blue being a mirror comes into play. when neeve was trying to see farther than she could, she used a mirror and it sent her there. the demon is trying to consume beyond it's bounds. a mirror sends it inwards. here blue sees the moment of violence that birthed the demon, and she's terrified and it's tragic. it's a very bildungsroman moment of grief and terror of what will come after for everyone. death of the child birth of the man etc. noah, perpetual child, gets laid to rest with cabeswater, but without cabeswater the ley line floods. here is where gansey dies: without noah fighting his hardest to keep him going, because noah loved him, because cabeswater needed him, his heart simply stops. here is where blue kisses him, because it doesn't matter any more, because he dies even though she didn't, because she's seeing without the demon clouding her for the first time in what feels like the longest time and all she can see is grief. shit gets magically weird with adam and ronan too, and it's henry who grounds them all, who is used to enforcing practicality on the unknown to keep himself safe. with his help the three of them dream something to save gansey. ta da! 

i feel like this would also feed much better into the theme of the dreamer trilogy of like opening ley lines etc bcus trk completely glosses over what happens to the ley line without cabeswater there, and adds to it making sense that ronan thinks opening the ley lines is a good idea - he saved gansey with it! what more could he do! whereas adam felt overwhelmed and out of control and spends the next year trying to construct and repair his own real life conduits and safeguards on the ley line as ronan builds lindenmere. what are your thoughts did i miss anything that you were like absolutely not hate that need it to be gone

[zephfair]

Prompt: (if you are open to such)

Pynch on a hike!

A: "at least the view was worth it, it's so beautiful"

R: "not as beautiful as you are" CHEESY RONAN IT IS

HEY there, beautiful Anon! Guess who's showing up 5 months late with your ficlet??? That's right! Me! 🤦‍♀️

I'm so very sorry it took me 5 months to post this! It's cheesy and fluffy and has absolutely 0 plot ... so basically it's exactly like all the rest of my writing.

But I really hope you enjoy this short little gift! Thank you SO MUCH for leaving me a prompt, and again, I apologize for taking so long to finish it!

After Ronan insisted on taking a rest break for the fifth time in two hours, Adam had enough and bitched back.

“Lynch, I know for a fact that you can walk longer than 20 minutes at a time, even if it is uphill,” he said. “Now get your ass in gear.”

Ronan huffed, in annoyance, not from being out of shape. “I just don’t see why we have to go on a hike while you’re home on spring break. We could be doing something so much more fun at home.”

“What could be better than exploring the woods and mountains on a sunny spring day? And don’t you dare say fucking.”

“Wasn’t gonna,” Ronan sulked. “Not in the mood now, anyway.”

Adam hefted his backpack up a little snugger. “That’s a lie, Lynch. You’re always in the mood.”

“You’re right,” Ronan smirked at him. “Speaking of…”

“No way. We are finishing this hike.”

Ronan tilted his head back and let loose a string of cursing that always impressed Adam in the strangest way. Once he got it out of his system, Adam tried his best to loom over the rock where Ronan sat.

“Feel better now? Need another drink? Boots feeling all right?” he asked in a saccharine voice.

Ronan narrowed his eyes as he looked up. “These boots weren’t made for walking up a mountain all day. And yeah, I need a drink. You got anything stronger than Gatorade?”

“No. Now get your ass up and get walking.”

Ronan’s groan was at least five seconds long and loud enough to make some birds fly away from a nearby tree.

“Your objection has been noted. Move.”

Ronan’s grumbling followed him doggedly. “Don’t you need to stop and check your phone? It’s practically glued to your face these days,” he mocked at one point. “Won’t your friends be scared if they can’t reach you at any moment? If you don’t text back ASAP? Won’t your books be lonely if you don’t have your face shoved in them all damn day?”

It wasn’t quite enough to ruin Adam’s good mood. He’d thought bringing Ronan on a day-long hike would be fun, and it had started well, with a beautiful sunrise as they drove to the bottom of the hiking trail. Ronan had even cooperated with picking out snacks and drinks and agreed to carry a backpack, too.

But as the morning wore on, and the trail continued up into the woods, Ronan began to get bored. At first he tried talking to Adam, bitching and complaining, but Adam had ignored him to point out all the beauties of the forest in spring.

Then the frequent pee breaks and sitting spells began.

When Ronan plopped down on a fallen log and insisted on another break, Adam snapped.

“Why the hell are you being such a pain in the ass?”

“I hate hiking,” Ronan said sulkily, pawing through his backpack for another granola bar.

Adam ran a hand over his face and tried to calm down. “You’ve been hiking for miles all over the Blue Ridge with Gansey. And me. And Hennessy loves bitching about the time you introduced her to Lindenmere by making her hike there in her fancy outfit. We’ve explored all the land around the Barns multiple times. What is it about this hike that is turning you into such a giant whiny baby?”

“It wasn’t like this.”

“What do you mean?”

“It wasn’t,” Ronan gestured broadly around himself, “like this.”

Adam stared at him, arms crossed over his chest, and waited, but there was no further explanation offered. “So what’s so different.”

“It’s just, there was a goal in mind, before. This just feels pointless.”

Adam continued to stare at him, so Ronan tried to explain.

“With Gansey and you, it was fun, and we were hunting Glendower and all that shit. It was hiking for an adventure, to find the end of the puzzle. And Lindenmere is its own goal, so it’s not this,” he gestured at the woods again, “just walking around in circles or shit. We got to the end. It wasn’t pointless.”

“I thought,” Adam said softly, “the point was to spend the day together doing something we both enjoyed. Man, was I wrong.”

“Adam, no,” Ronan jumped up and grabbed his shoulders. “I didn’t mean it like that. I love spending time with you. You know that.”

Adam finally met his eyes and shrugged.

“I guess, I guess I just need to know where I’m going, or know that there’s something worth finding when I get there. Otherwise it’s just traipsing around the woods and getting blisters on my feet when we could be at home, in bed, finding a happy ending.”

Adam snorted despite himself. Ronan smiled a little and leaned his forehead against Adam’s.

“I guess it’s like the age-old question about whether life is about the journey or the destination. We have two very different philosophies,” Adam said.

“Don’t make this into some big psychological thing,” Ronan moaned. “I’m just tired and grumpy and my feet hurt.”

Now, that sounded more like his Ronan, and Adam knew how to motivate that.

“So, you’re saying I have to set you a goal, like a preschooler. Give you a gold star if you accomplish this task?”

“Or,” Ronan stroked down Adam’s arms and crept around his waist, “you can bribe me.”

“You seriously expect me to bribe you? What would it cost me to get you out of the house on a beautiful day that we can spend together?”

“I dunno. What’s it worth to you?” Ronan asked breathily in his ear.

“I think we’re working on different reward systems here.”

“There’s one thing you can offer.” The way Ronan tried to waggle his eyebrows in what he probably thought was seduction or playful didn’t work on Adam.

He said firmly, “No, Lynch, we’re not doing that here.”

“Why not?” Ronan was still talking heavily in his ear.

“Because that’s how you get tick bites on your dick. Do you want to get a tick attached to your dick? That’s how you get super Lyme disease.”

That pronouncement made Ronan step back and cup his hand protectively over his groin. “Seriously?”

“I don’t know, but I do know that I don’t want either of our dicks infested with ticks. Now let’s pick up the pace,” Adam glanced at his watch. “We do have somewhere to be.”

Ronan kept a low undertone of grumbling as he followed Adam up and along and down and up again.

“You know, you wouldn’t lose your breath if you shut the fuck up for a while and quit complaining,” Adam told him.

Ronan stomped along behind him in silence then.

But even Adam was feeling the strain in his legs when they got to the top of the hill that Adam was pretty sure was their destination from the sound of it.

The trail came out onto a clearing at the side of the mountain. The view out over the valley was beautiful, with a patchwork of farms and lawns and woods crisscrossed by the tiny ribbons of roads and the minuscule boxes of houses, barns and buildings.

Immediately above was a waterfall that roared from a stream coming down from the top of the mountain and swollen with melting snow pack. From where they stood, the waterfall looked like it was falling the entire way down the mountain, but was actually caught in a rocky pool below them that would let it funnel down in a creek to the valley below.

Looking out over the water into the valley was a little vertigo inducing, Adam thought, just for a minute.

He glanced up at the sky then checked behind for Ronan. “I think we got here in time. Wait until that cloud moves away from the sun.”

When it did, the sunlight hit the water and at the right angle, it created a huge rainbow arcing down the side of the mountain.

“Wow. That’s gay,” Ronan said.

“Excuse me?”

“You know what I mean. Is this what we walked all this fucking way for?”

Adam shrugged. “Yeah, but also because it’s a fun and healthy way to spend a day in nature.”

“I could’ve had more fun and more health spending it in bed.”

Adam gestured toward the idyllic picture of the valley far below them. “At least the view was worth it. It’s so beautiful.”

“Not as beautiful as you are,” Ronan said.

“Dammit, Lynch, that’s really cheesy.”

“I know. But it’s true.”

Adam side-eyed him. “You do realize that we now have to walk back down that entire mountain?”

Ronan shrugged and slung his arm around Adam’s shoulders, leaning on him heavily. “At least we’ll be together, right?”

“Oh sure. Now you’re suddenly fine with this whole hiking thing.”

“Nah, but I’m fine about spending an entire day with you. I guess it is nice, knowing that you won’t be distracted by homework or school shit or your phone. Or your little school friends.”

“I guess that’s true,” Adam said slowly, finally realizing the depth that Ronan was jealous of sharing him. He bumped his hip, hard enough to make Ronan take his own weight back. “Maybe we need more days, just the two of us together. No distractions.”

Ronan made a pfft sound that was probably disdain but Adam knew to read as agreement.

“Whatever,” Ronan said and turned his head to bite Adam’s cheek. “Now how about I pretend I’m a tick and I bite and suck you.”

“You’re such a romantic, Lynch,” Adam said, but he was already fighting with his belt as Ronan started to laugh at him. “But if I get a tick-borne illness…”

“I’ll take care of you. Promise,” Ronan said, his voice suddenly deepening.

Adam reached for him, holding his face in his hands, as he looked over the familiar, annoying, beloved face. When Ronan kissed him, it felt like a promise of something deeper and truer than an off-the-cuff joke; like many of his interactions with Ronan, pairing the obnoxious with the holy in one desirable package.

“Thanks for coming with me today,” Adam said as Ronan kissed his way down Adam’s neck.

“Thanks for spending it with me,” Ronan replied, his hands taking over on Adam’s belt. “Now shut up and enjoy the view.”

Adam did, very much.

[stillaclownlol]

FROWNY. I know I commented some of my thoughts already (and already gave you an ask about it) but I have more and the comments have a word limit so I’m just gonna say them here:

ADAM. ADAM. I’m sorry but I think he’s my favourite character. Like THE RITUAL WITH HIM AND PERSEPHONE?? HER SAYING “They didn’t believe me”????? EXCSUE ME??? HELLO?? GIRL?? I cannot BELIEVE the amount of happenings I’ve just read. Like WHAT. He hasn’t woken up yet but like omg my baby my boy please come here and let me HUG YOU. He’s been going through it this whole book and he genuinely needs a hug I just wanna squeeze him and keep him safe UGHHHH.

ANYWAY. SO. Gansey and Blue??? CUTE AF?? Sad her and Adam aren’t together but honestly saw it coming — I was just in denial really. Like he’s literally her TRUE LOVE. There’s NO WAY she wouldn’t fall for him. I’m happy they considered Adam’s feelings though, but like OMG THE MOUNTAIN SCENE?? It was so cute and I could picture it so well in my mind like… (if you don’t remember what scene I’m referring to it’s the one after Adam’s scrying where Blue and Gansey drive off to clear their heads and then they stop at this beautiful scenery and then feelings get blown and they are REALLY cute)

UM. KAVINSKY?? HELLO?? I thought he was just some random jerk?? HE CAN DO SHIT WITH HIS DREAMS TOO?? And what’s with all the gay jokes?? My guy is so fruity, he calls Ronan “sweetheart” and “princess” this man is NOT STRAIGHT. like at all. Also Ronan??? RONAN??? KILL ME RIGHT NOW BECAUSE I CANT BELIVE HE DID THAT?? WITH THE CAMARO?? GENUINELY SCREAMED WHEN THAT HAPPENED??? And HIS EUPHORIC LAUGHTER?? HE SMILED?????? PLEASE CAN I HAVE MORE OF THAT????

Gray Man is ehh still, like he and Maura are cute I guess and he figured out Greywaren was a someones instead of a something but also okay?? I mean at least he isn’t gonna kidnap them or kill them? (At least, I hope not because I’m not done with the book)

Last thing I wanna talk about before I go read again: I officially love the Lynch brothers (like maybe not Declan YET but I’m only on book 2) and the Gansey’s aren’t all that bad. I also just want Adam to find someone who’d love him because he’s been so deprived of it his whole life like UGHHH ADAM??? I wanna cry he’s such a wreck 😭

Ok rant over !

NOOOOO YOURE AT THE RITUAL SCENE? PLEASEEEE BROKE MY HEART FR 😭😭😭

Omg the mountain scene. THE MOUNTAIN SCENE. THE DRIVE- SLDHOSBDOD IT WAS SO- AUGGHHHH. anyways don't worry Adam will also get his happiness 🙂‍↕️

THE KAVINSKY PLOT TWIST WAS CRAZYYYYY LMAO. also yeah he's fruity af kshjdbfsi.

WHEN HE CRASHED THE CAMARO KAHDJHDKS RIGHT AFTER GANSEY WAS THINKING ABOUT IT 💀 KILLED ME-

Grey Man is whatever I appreciate his help but like lowkey you shouldn't have been there in the same place-

The Lynch Brothers drive me insane in the best possible way ~

ADAM WILL FIND LOVE I PROMISEEEEE <3

[willowbird]

Congrats!! If you want, how about the first time Ronan sleeps over at St. Agnes? Like the pining!!

Yay! I was SO EXCITED to get a Ronan/Adam ask!! I may have gone a little overboard with the pining, but I hope you still like it <3 <3 This is actually my first Pynch ficlet! I hope you like it! Lemme know if you think I should post it on AO3 ^^; Since it’s my first time actually writing them and I haven’t read the books as many times as I’ve read AFTG I hope it’s okay!

-----

Ronan bounced the rubber ball against the sloped ceiling from where he lay on Adam’s bed, waiting for the other boy to get out of the shower. He’d been out, just driving around with no discernable purpose or direction, when it came around that time for Parrish to get out of work so he’d swung by and picked him up. There’d been no reason to say no when Adam had asked if he wanted to come up for a while. After all, he and Adam were friends -- no matter how much they seemed to bicker -- and Ronan liked being at St. Agnes. Sometimes, it was honestly more satisfying to be there than it was to be at Monmouth. Nothing beat being at the Barnes, but still -- St. Agness had a particular energy, it always had. 

After all, Ronan Lynch was no stranger to St. Agnes. The hours he’d spent in the quiet pews could stack together to build a universe apart from the rest of the world, a separate realm that even the horrors inside his own mind couldn’t touch. And yet, since Adam came to live there, the hallowed halls of that familiar place had developed a completely new,,, feeling that Ronan had no idea how to feel about. 

A part of Ronan wanted to be pissed off about it. 

A bigger part of Ronan was fascinated in the way that the travelers in his father’s stories had always been fascinated by the glow of will-o’-the-wisps between the branches of the deep woods and frosted bogs. The peace that the church had once given him was spiked with something else now, something that fizzed like pop-rocks under his skin, and as annoying as that was -- he really couldn’t say that he hated it. 

Considering he knew that the fizz of... enchantment was most definitely caused by the boy now living in that small, slanted room above the church? No, he really couldn’t say that he hated it at all. 

Not to say that Adam I’ll-be-independent-if-it-kills-me Parrish didn’t make him want to punch his fist through a fucking brick wall -- because he absolutely did. But there was also something... undeniably right about the boy taking up residence above the church. After all, the infuriating pest already lived full time inside his head, he might as well sleep in the building that housed Ronan’s soul as well. At least he was fucking consistent. 

The shabby door connecting the bedroom to the tiny bathroom creaked open and Ronan caught the ball on its rebound and didn’t throw it again, instead turning his head to look as Adam entered the room. 

He did not expect to see Adam walk into the bedroom in nothing but a towel and instantly looked back up at the ceiling, throwing the ball again with a bit more force than necessary. Only his quick reflexes saved him from losing a fucking eye. He tried not to think about the way the other boy’s skin had been flushed pink from the heat of the shower, his hair damp and pushed haphazardly back from his face, exposing cheekbones and eyes that...

Okay, he tried -- that didn’t mean he succeeded. 

“Sorry, it’ll just be a minute. I forgot to grab something to change into.” Adam’s voice was soft, lilted with the Henrietta accent in the way that only happened when he was either really emotional or perfectly at ease. Ronan would never tell him how much he loved hearing the edge of gravel and wild country grass around his vowels, not on pain of death, but that didn’t make it any less true. 

“Take your time, Parrish. I don’t fucking care.” No one needed to know that the sigh that followed was relief at how nonchalant he had managed to make the words, instead of the dry irritation it sounded like. 

Adam huffed a soft laugh and Ronan could feel the eye-roll being directed at him. He didn’t bother to hide his grin, just gave it a bit more teeth as he tossed the ball up and caught it again. 

It was only another few minutes before the door creaked open again and Adam came out -- this time fully clothed. Ronan caught the ball and sat up, scooting over so that Adam could come over and sit down, which the other boy did with a flourish and a groan. 

“Ugh, I just do not wanna do homework.”

“Then don’t.” Ronan shrugged and bounced the ball on the floor this time, angling it slightly so that when it rebounded it went toward Adam. 

Adam caught it easily and bounced it back, timed perfectly with a familiar scoff. “Some of us care about school, you know.” Ronan waited for a beat, but when Adam didn’t follow that up with chastisement or prod for him to start caring about school, he gave a small shrug. 

“Sure, but tomorrow is Saturday. It isn’t like you’ve got anything due tomorrow. You just got off work, learn how to fucking relax.” He caught the ball and held it for a moment, tilting his head back as he mimicked a thoughtful expression. “Oh, oh that’s right, you don’t know how to relax.” He gave a deep, mournful sigh and bounced the ball back at him. “Shame, for man so smart to be missing such a vital real-life skill.”

“Ha ha, you’re hilarious,” Adam sniped back, but his words were sharpened more with amusement than irritation. 

“Oh, I know. I’m a regular comedy special,” Ronan agreed readily. “But that, actually, was not a joke.” He could press here. He could remind Adam that his whole world didn’t need to be as rigid as he was making it to be. He could tell him that he could afford to take a break every now and then, that he deserved to chill the fuck out. But if he did that he risked sounding too much like Gansey or repeating an argument that neither of them probably felt like jumping into tonight. So instead, he caught the ball and cocked his head, studying the other boy curiously. 

Then he asked, “Where would you go? If you could go anywhere in the world with no consequences. What would you do? And not to accomplish anything great or whatever -- I’m talking just for fun.”

Adam held up his hand for the ball and Ronan tossed it to him. His eyes caught on the way he began to roll it between his palms, those long fingers curling around it, bony wrists twisting to pass it from one hand to the other. Ronan had the sudden urge to brush his lips over the prominent bump in each wrist. Not in a kiss -- but just to feel the protrusion against his mouth. 

“That’s pretty broad,” Adam said with a hum, oblivious to his distraction. “There’s a lot of places I could go.”

“That’s the point. There’s no consequences, no limits. You could go anywhere.” He dragged his gaze away from those hands but this time they caught on the exposed bit of Adam’s collarbone on the way up to his face. “So pick a place, Parrish. Never known you to be so indecisive.”

Adam’s eyes dropped from where they’d been thoughtfully searching the ceiling, locking onto his as he flashed a sharp smirk. That expression cut him right between the ribs, twisted, and nestled in nice and deep for the winter -- because this, this was the Adam Parrish he couldn’t stop thinking about. Everyone seemed to underestimate him. Everyone thought he was so soft, thought he was so polite and sweet and yeah sure, he was all of those things, but that was only one part of him. It was just the surface setting to the multiverse that was Adam Parrish, and this sharp, biting, cunning side of him was closer to his core. Ronan knew he was one of the only people who knew that side was there, and was probably the only person who truly understood how much a part of him that facet was. 

“All right,” he said, his voice smooth and low and Ronan had the distinct certainty that if that sound were a drink it would be a spiked mulled cider, husky and tart in a way that made your head light and your chest warm. “I’ll play. But you go first. Where would you go? Somewhere outside of the States,” he added, before Ronan could say the Barnes -- because he was apparently that predictable. 

Ronan rolled his eyes, but shrugged and slipped off the bed, laying on the floor beside the bed and pillowing his hands under his head as he thought. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Adam stretch out on the bed on his stomach, hugging a pillow and using it to prop his head up a bit as he looked down at Ronan. The feel of Adam’s full and undivided attention on him did things to his pulse he didn’t want to think about. 

“Probably Ireland,” he finally said after a long moment of thought that was torn up and distributed between flickers of distraction caused by Adam’s silhouette in his peripheral, from the way his damp hair was falling into his eyes now that it was beginning to dry all the way to the slump of his broad shoulders and the sharp jut of his elbows against the cushions. There just really wasn’t any part of Adam Parrish that Ronan didn’t want to look at. 

A soft huff of laughter had Ronan turning his head to look at him straight on and the amusement on the other boy’s face told him that he was being predictable again. Ronan frowned -- he didn’t like being predictable. 

“Don’t give me that look. Tell me why, Ronan Lynch.” There was a teasing note in Adam’s voice, and if it were anyone else that would have brought Ronan’s back up -- would have made him snap his teeth and snarl. Coming from Adam, he had to give himself a moment so he didn’t trip over his own foolish tongue. 

Somehow he managed to avoid that humiliation. Instead, he told Adam about Ireland through his father’s eyes. He told himself he didn’t care about the softening of Adam’s smile, that it did absolutely nothing to him to watch the other boy close his eyes and rest his cheek on the pillow, leaving himself vulnerable as he dipped into his own thoughts. Rather, he focused on the stories he was telling Adam, reliving them as he did his best impression of his father’s cadence and storyteller’s hum. He told him stories about the fair folk, the fey and the night creatures. He told him about the magic of each valley and river and dale. He shared his favorite tales about cheeky brownies and powerful, dangerous sidhe that became captivated by the bright, fleeting magic of a human’s ability to create. 

Adam listened to each one, and that smile...? It never faded, not even once. 

“It’s your turn,” Ronan finally said, when his heart was full and his lungs tight -- torn between the memories caused by those stories and these newer, more electric feelings caused by the proximity of Adam Parrish’s smile.

“Mm, I think... I think that if I were to go anywhere in the world I’d want to see high mountains. High mountains and dark woods. Deep lakes. Flowers that seem to have their own language between the brightness of their colors and the way they sway toward and away from each other in a wind that affects them and them alone. Butterflies that cast shadows like birds of prey...” As he spoke his words drew further and further apart, his tone drifting as fatigue from the long day dragged him down toward sleep. 

Ronan held his breath, almost wanting to prod him for more -- because it was rare to hear Adam talk... well, like a dreamer. Adam was a boy who kept himself grounded so deeply in reality it was sometimes painful for Ronan to be around him. This secret side of him, this side of dreams and hope and wonder... it was a vulnerable side that he knew Adam wouldn’t be indulging in if he weren’t perfectly comfortable and probably way more tired than he’d originally thought he was. It was a side of him that Ronan had always known existed (you couldn’t chase a dead Welsh king without being at least part whimsy, no matter how charismatic Gansey was) but one that Adam kept very close to the chest. 

“Mm... Ronan?” Adam’s voice was soft and sleep-slurred, his eyelashes shielding the color of his eyes, he was barely able to keep them open. 

“Yeah?” Ronan’s voice was rough, even to his own ears, but Adam didn’t seem to notice.

“Do you think a place like that actually exists?” The question was light, but there was a raw, sweet shard of hope beneath the words that cut Ronan in a tender space below his throat. 

“Yes,” Ronan promised with certainty, not even needing to think about it -- not even needing to question it. “I know it does.”

Adam’s eyes dropped all the way closed and he smiled, sighing in relief. That sigh transitioned directly into the deep, slow breaths of sleep. 

Ronan knew that he should get up. Sleeping on the floor would give him one hell of a backache, and Adam hadn’t said he could stay over. He should get up and stretch, then drive back to Monmouth, where he should crawl into his own bed for the night -- or maybe stay up longer and bother Gansey, because fuck knew that guy didn’t understand the concept of a regulated sleeping schedule. 

Instead, Ronan watched Adam until his own eyes just couldn’t stay open any longer. Then, from the floor of St. Agnes, beside the boy who called to him like a fire-sprite, Ronan dreamed. He dreamed of dark woods and flowers that seemed to have their own language, between their bright colors and the way they swayed in their own self-contained breezes. He dreamed of butterflies that cast shadows like birds of prey. He dreamed of safe places even in the dark woods -- and when Ronan dreamed... well, when Ronan dreamed, reality itself seemed to listen.

[toast-the-unknowing]

la verse adam makes me sad that he stayed working in a place he hated for so long but that's something that's very accurate, and i know you left it pretty in the open but i hope that after he's break he finds something that he loves, i could maybe see him as a social worker but i think the emotional baggage is also kind of strong, maybe he could be a teacher he would be terrified at first but i think he would be a good one, anyway that's were my goo brain went today, love your verse

I don't expect to ever write the story(ies) where these events will occur, but I have vaguely headcanoned out what becomes of Adam's career post-leaving his old law firm:

He has a stated intention throughout of the series of switching from criminal defense to criminal prosecution, which comes from the hurt and powerlessness he felt as a teen when his dad was acquitted. Since he's Adam Parrish, he does in fact achieve the thing he sets out to do. Except...

He gets to the district attorney's office and absolutely hates it, because most of what he is doing there has jack shit to do with protecting the innocent or reducing harm. He gets really disillusioned and bitter about it, because not only does this job suck, but this was supposed to be the thing that was BETTER than the LAST job that sucked, this was supposed to be the reward for staying at the place he hated so long, and if it's godawful too then everything must just be godawful, what's the fucking point.

Ronan feels very helpless because Adam is miserable but he has no idea what the heck to do about it, it's not like he has any way of fixing it; Adam is smarter than him and knows more than Ronan does about the legal field (since Ronan goes out of his way to avoid learning about it) and if Adam can't figure out something he would be happy doing, what the hell is Ronan supposed to do about it?

Gansey probably has a lot of well-intentioned advice that wouldn't help. Blue probably has a couple of suggestions for things Adam could do instead that might actually be a decent fit but at this point Adam is resigned and sees no point and is even less welcome to accepting help from other people than usual.

I think ultimately in my mind where Adam does end up finding a new role for himself that actually makes him feel satisfied with his work is through Declan; I don't really know what the opportunity is, but I figure at some point Declan mentions to some politician or advisor or director of some worthy cause that he knows someone in Los Angeles who would be a good fit for X thing, and since meeting with this person really feels more like doing a favor for his brother-in-law instead of accepting a favor from a friend, Adam is actually willing to take the lunch meeting or go to the networking event or whatever it is, and it is a good fit, and he goes and does whatever that is.

I don't really know what that new role is, and fuck, I can barely make my own career decisions, I'm not tremendously interested in sussing out the details. Suffice to say Adam has a few more years to go of "staying at a job he hates" but he gets to something rewarding in the end.