#she literally gave us pynch

[wehelddarkness]

x

#mister impossible spoilers #ON ONE SIDE i get maggie's tweets #BUT ON THE OTHER #LIKE.... #like........ #MA'AM #YOU GAVE RONAN AND ADAM TO US ONA SILVER PLATTER!!! #IT WAS NOT LIKE SHE TEASED SOMETHING AND THE LET FANS IMAGINATION RUN WILD #she literally gave us pynch #she literally gave ronan something SOMEONE he truly loved and who loved him!!!!!!!! #i'm not saying she's obliged to give us a happy ending #but neither ahould people demand her that to the point of threatebing her #but.... but.... BUUUUUUUUUUT #taking pynch away from us is just CRUEL #if her tweets is to warn us that pynch will not be endgame IM GONNA BE REALLY UPSET #MY BOY RONAN WAS DEVASTAED THAT HE THOUGHT ADAM WAS IGNORING HIM #HE DREAMT OF A LIFE WITH ADAM!!!!!!!!!!!! #that can't be for nothing 😔😔😔😔 #i'm not saying im reading the dreamer trilogy only for pynch #bc at this point it's not bc i'm really into and intrigued by the whole deal with the dreamers #BUT... it's PYNCH MA'AM HOW CAN YOU DO THIS TO US????? #anyway moving on #rant off

[abarbaricyalp]

The Babe With The Power

@pynchpromptweek

Pynch // Prompt: Future/Kid Fic // Rated: G

No archive warnings, but Adam bruises his face in the second half and the injury is discussed

AO3 Link

“We have to talk,” Ronan said, leaning on the door way to the living room.

Adam looked up at him, leaving his hands to the mercy of RG IV in front of him. The baby wasn’t actually called RG IV. Actually, the baby wasn’t a Richard at all. She was a Noa Percy and had stalled the great debate about whether Blue would allow Gansey to name their son RG IV. But they’d all spent so long calling Blue’s baby bump RG IV that the nickname stuck when they weren’t actually talking to the baby. (Names were important for cognitive growth, they were told, so don’t fuck her up with your joke)

RG IV gnawed at Adam’s knuckle and Ronan scowled at her. “You shouldn’t be baby sitting so much.”

Adam frowned and pulled the baby into his lap. “What do you mean? You volunteered us for the summer!”

“Yeah, but you’re supposed to be working on your dissertation and you have that grant proposal in a month. You should be focusing on that.”

“What? Do you want more time with her?” Adam asked. “I’m balancing everything just fine. I’m ahead of schedule on my dissertation and the proposal is being edited right now. If you want me to back off to give you time, just say, Ronan.”

“I don’t want more time with her. I already have to entertain her when you’re writing.”

Adam stood suddenly, a fast flash of anger. “You told them we’d take care of her. Get over yourself, Lynch,” he snapped, cuddling her closer to his chest.

Ronan’s jaw worked and Adam could see it all the way across the room. “She’s gonna forget what her dad looks like ‘cause she stares at you so much.”

Adam’s eyes widened and his arms tightened around her. “Did Gansey tell you to do this? Is he mad at me?”

Ronan made a face. “What? No. Gansey would probably be honored if she started to call you Daddy. He’d be like, ‘That’s fair, I get that.’”

Adam rolled his eyes and relaxed a little bit. “Then what the hell is your problem?”

“Watch your mouth, she’s literally right there.” Ronan shifted from foot to foot, chewing on his lower lip in irritation and anxiety. “It’s distracting. And she takes up so much room. I mean, there are baby toys down our couch and you're always sleeping with her on your chest and that's just a safety concern to begin with. Her bottles are all over the drain tray and I almost put formula in the coffee this morning.”

Adam steeled his jaw and shoulders, glaring so hard Ronan felt it cut him to the quick. “If you want me to take a step back, I will. But I think you’re just throwing a fit. Here.” He crossed over to Ronan and held RG IV out. “You tell Gansey that you don’t want her around.”

Ronan took the baby, immediately cuddling her in the crook of his arm and letting her hold his other arm hostage to chew on his bracelets. “You gave her a bath the other day in the sink and you were baby talking her and I walked into a door.”

“I remember,” Adam said with a nod.

“And I don't even know which is worse--when you're talking her nonsense or when you're sitting there, asking her serious questions about whatever paper you're writing and nodding along seriously when she coos back at you.”

“I knew it!” Adam crowed. “You have baby fever! You’re not upset, you’re overwhelmed!”

Ronan glared at him. “I do not! I am not! It’s just that my boyfriend is always hugging on her and kissing her and you’re so good at it, I want to scream.”

“She’s our niece. I’m not gonna send her home just ‘cause you never learned how to process emotions.”

“You’re pursuing a doctorates! You should be living a distractionless life!”

“Oh, ‘cause you’re so distractionless.”

Ronan scowled at him for a second longer before sitting heavily on the couch. “I didn’t want kids. I wanted a family, wanted my family back. Kids felt like I was trying to replace them and I didn’t want to. And, y’know, bein’ gay and all. And I never thought I’d actually get to fall in love.”

Adam sat down next to him. For a moment, he just smoothed his thumb over the baby’s weirdly soft forehead. “I always thought I shouldn’t have kids,” he said eventually. “That I might end up too much like my dad. I figured he musta been in love at one point, he must’ve been halfway decent and it was just me who ruined everything for him, so I should avoid kids too.”

“Clearly you’d be a great father,” Ronan muttered.

“Yeah, I get that now. But I’ve grown a lot since then too. Who knows what might’ve been true if things in my life hadn’t happened the way that they did.”

“Adam, you’re a good man. You’re nothing like your father. You never would’ve been.”

Adam shrugged. “Yeah, but that wouldn’t have been enough to convince me to have kids, probably. But now I have you and I see myself in such a different light, I’m a different person. And you’re right, Ro. I am good at this. I love it so much.” Like she was trying to prove his point, RG IV let go of Ronan’s bracelets to grab Adam’s hand and chew on his thumb again.

“It’s a big change. And I’m having to come to terms with a lot of things about myself that I didn’t know, or didn’t want to know,” Ronan said. They sat in silence for a few moments, watching the baby who was keen on watching them too. She had a big, gaping grin for them each time she caught their eye. “I’m sorry I snapped at you,” Ronan eventually said.

“It’s alright,” Adam murmured, leaning into his side. “I know you didn’t mean it. And we don’t have to make any kind of plans, Ro. I mean, this is literally the first time we’re talking about it. It’s not like we should be at an adoption agency tomorrow morning.”

“I could dream us a kid,” Ronan said immediately, like he was anticipating Adam’s response. “A little kid with your hair and my eyes and your freckles and--”

Adam pressed his hand over Ronan’s mouth. The baby watched intently. “You can’t dream them. I can’t lose you both in one moment.”

Ronan sagged under Adam’s hand and his eyes lowered before he nodded. “I won’t. I promise,” he murmured. He met Adam halfway in a kiss and the baby giggled between them.

Two days later, Ronan ran through the door, breathless and terrified. “Adam? Where are you? Are you okay?” he asked, rounding into the living room with a panicked look on his face. He saw RG IV first, asleep in some mini-bed on the couch, perfectly safe and happy. Then his eyes found Adam, and his face, and the already mottled bruise down half of it. “Oh my God,” he breathed, crashing to his knees in front of Adam.

“Please don’t wake her up. She was so freaked out, I thought she’d never go to sleep,” Adam groaned, leaning back in the couch and replacing an icepack on his face.

“What happened, Parrish?” Ronan asked, voice still tight with worry.

“I was chasing her around the house and I ran into the french doors on the other side of the kitchen. One was open and one was shut, but I was looking down at her and I didn’t see it.”

“Adam, you look like you got hit by a baseball bat. Move your hand, let me see.”

Adam sighed and sat up, obediently pulling the ice away. Ronan hissed in sympathy as his cold fingers probed at the bruise. “Did you clean these cuts?” he asked, tracing two fingers down either side of the gash that ran from the top of Adam’s forehead to his eyebrow and then picked up again at his cheekbone, a perfect visualization of the edge of the door.

“No, I didn’t have time. It was all I could do to get some paper towel on it to stop the bleeding,” he explained.

Ronan flicked his opposite temple. “I’ll go get the alcohol and some bandages,” he said. “How’s your head feel?”

“Hurts like hell,” Adam admitted.

“We should take you to an emergency clinic. You might have a concussion.”

“I don’t have a concussion. Besides, I’ve lived without getting them diagnosed before.”

“Doesn’t matter. You have to go get checked out.”

“We can’t take a baby to a med clinic in the middle of flu season.”

“Then she can go to her grandmother’s place.”

“You really got used to leaving kids with them, huh? Having withdrawals, Lynch?” Adam teased softly.

Ronan shoved Adam’s shoulder just as softly and got up to go to the medical cabinet. When he got back, Adam was rocking the mini-bed, hand pressed over the baby’s chest as she clung onto his index and pinky fingers.

“When I ran into the door, I knew I’d hurt myself pretty bad,” he said as Ronan sat himself next to him. “I was in pain, I couldn’t think, my vision had gone a little black, I was bleeding immediately. And she’d gone running off still and all I could think about was how badly she could’ve been hurt if she’d hit the door instead of me. I mean, she was running full speed. And she’s fast. It’s part of why I wasn’t paying attention. I didn’t want her to run away from me and be able to hide.

“But I could only see her running into the door and how small and fragile she is. She noticed I wasn’t chasing her and she came toddling back and she crawled into my lap and I just...hugged her so tight. I was so scared.”

“Nothing happened to her, Adam,” Ronan said, setting aside the alcohol wipes and grabbing neosporin. “She’s totally fine. Look at that little face.”

Adam sighed and rubbed his hand against her chest and tummy. “She was so sweet about it. She pointed up at my face and pouted out her little lip. She really freaked out when I carried her in here and kept wincing and stuff.”

“Adam. Adam. Look at me. Look.” Ronan turned Adam’s face to his. “She’s okay. And you’re gonna be okay. This wasn’t a tragedy.”

“It could’ve been, Ro.”

“But it wasn’t. Hey, look. You did good, alright? You took care of her, got her down for a nap even.”

“It was already nap time. That’s why I was trying to wear her out.”

Ronan snorted out a laugh, which made Adam smile, a little begrudgingly. He finished bandaging Adam’s face and leaned over to kiss the corner of his mouth. “You did good.”

“There’s still so much we don’t know, Ro.”

Ronan shrugged. “Sure. We’re twenty five and haven’t dealt with a baby until her. We’ve got a learning curve. But, hey, at least we get to practice with the best baby ever.”

Adam smiled over at the baby and nodded. “She’s pretty cool.”

“Gonna be cooler for knowing us.”

Adam rolled his eyes and leaned over to kiss Ronan again. “Well, not so much for knowing you.”

“Now I’m definitely gonna drag your ass to a med clinic.”

“I might let you. To set a good example for her.”

Ronan hummed and kissed him again. “One day you’re gonna do something for me and I’m gonna keel over.”

“Yeah, I’ve never done anything for you,” Adam agreed sarcastically. “You have a hard life.”

“It’s getting better.”

Adam stole another kiss. “The best is yet to come.”

“You’re a damn sap, Parrish,” Ronan murmured against his mouth.

#pynch #adam parrish #ronan lynch #pynchpromptweek #kid fic #writing #otp: in more than his lips

[human-trash-fire]

Beautiful Disaster: Ch. 4 (Pynch Soulmate-AU)

I realized I never posted Ch 4 for my Pynch AU! So here it is, for anyone interested, HERE is a link to my masterlist where you can find the first 3 chapters. (THIS WILL NOT MAKE SENSE WITHOUT READING THE OTHERS) I’m also on Ao3 as glam_reaper2 <3 

Anyways, this fic is the writing I’m most proud of, and I can’t wait to drop Ch 5 this week! 

TW: Adam’s Dad/ mentioning abuse, graphic depiction of violence, mention of suicide attempt.

Adam Parrish woke in the early hours on the third day after the alley. The pre-dawn glow streaming through the crack in his curtains cast shadows on the plants and books covering his shelves. Eyes heavy and throat raw, Adam took a deep breath. In through his nose, oxygen flooding his lungs, battling to release the weight that had long since laid claim on the space behind his ribs. He held it until he thought he might choke. Vision blurring, heartbeat hammering in his ears, a pulsing reminder that he was still here; then in a rush, he released. The momentary weightlessness was a small reprieve.

The tiny arm slung across his abdomen a reminder that, at least for now, he wasn’t alone. Blue had crawled into his bed the afternoon before and stayed with him through the long night. Adam moved her arm off and slid as carefully and quietly as he could from the bed, he didn’t wish to wake her. She needed sleep, the exhaustion evident on her face even now. 

He moved toward the window, reaching out to open his curtains, allowing the morning light to flood in. And there he stood, hand still holding the curtain, eyes trained on the horizon. He remained unmoved, watching the sun crawl from the earth bathing everything in its path in colors Adam had never seen. They were fresh, warm, soft. They stole his breath and for a moment, a lifetime, he stood frozen and allowed that hopeful warmth to settle in his bones. In awe of the majesty of nature, swallowed whole by the gift of color, broken by it. 

His breath stuttered.

The man in the alley would never see a sunrise, or a sunset. He had given Adam this gift and left mere hours before Adam could have reciprocated. His thoughts spiraled, fingers tightening on the curtain, eyes burning. The sunrise moved from photographic clarity to an impressionist painting, and salt kissed his lips.

“Adam…” Blue breathed from his side, reaching out and pulling aside the second curtain to allow a full view.

“It’s-” Adam choked on a whisper, “It’s magnificent, and he’ll never see.”

~~

Adam spent the rest of the week coping in the only way he knew how: throwing himself into his jobs and school work. Blue and Henry had closed ranks, showering him with their own personal versions of love. 

For Henry, it was distraction, mindless conversation, a steady companionship during hours in the library. Henry Cheng, though initially someone Adam never saw friendship potential in, was more than most gave him credit for. On the outside, he was loud. From his clothes to hair, he was unabashedly himself: caring, vibrant, loyal. Adam appreciated the effort, never pressured to talk about what was clearly tearing him apart. 

Blue was the opposite, in a very Blue way. She brought him coffees and hugs, asked him about his mood, and made highly unsubtle references to “healthy coping mechanisms.” She was kind but stern, pushing him towards what he knew logically was the next step. But this trauma was too big, too heady to file away in the closet in his mind marked “DANGER.”

It had been a little over a week since he watched his first true sunrise when Blue decided to take off the kid gloves.

“Look.” Her voice was as unwavering as her eye contact, sitting next to him on the chipped-white metal bench in the alley beside Nino’s Cafe where they took their break. Nino’s was his second job, and Blue’s “fun money/ free caffeine” job, covering the hours she wasn’t working on her photography portfolio.

Adam held her gaze, and his breath. Her tone brokered no room for argument, and he knew he had spent enough time avoiding answering anything truthfully… Her forcing a “talk” on him was inevitable. He nodded once to indicate he was listening, and waited for her to continue.

“I know you aren’t ready to talk, and that is completely fine. I won’t bullshit you and pretend I have any idea what kind of pain you’re in. No- no,” she held up a finger to cut off Adam’s rebuttal. “Don’t shake your head and feed me you’re ‘i’m fine’ because we both know you’re not. That being said you’re a grown ass man, who makes his own decisions and I respect that. But, Adam?”

He cocked his head to the side, and made a noncommittal grunt.

“You need to do something. You know I always advocate therapy, but -don’t scoff asshole- but, I’m also aware that it’s ‘not your thing’ so I had another idea. Here,” Blue thrust a bag towards Adam. It was a recycled paper shopping bag, rolled at the top and lighter than he expected.

“What’s this?” He asked.

“Open it.”

He unrolled the bag skeptically and peered inside. His right eyebrow hitched as he looked away from the bag’s contents and towards Blue. “The fuck?”

“Letters. That’s my idea. Something I never told you but, when my dad left I had all this rage and I had no one to direct it towards. My mom got me a pack of envelopes and blank paper and told me to try writing a letter to him. She told me I didn’t ever have to send what I wrote to him if I didn’t want too, and I didn’t. The act of venting everything in a direct way really helped me, it was more than a diary, or whatever, because these were shots at an intended target. I could be mad and then seal it in an envelope and the weight in my chest lifted a little. I thought maybe…” She motioned towards the bag with a crooked smile and a shrug.

“Letters…” Adam repeated. “To a dead guy?”

“Yes.”

“Blue, I don’t know.”

“Look, just take the damn bag. Do it, or don’t. I can’t and wont force you. But at least consider it.” Then she rose to her full height, the most intimidating 5 feet he had ever seen, giving him what could only be called a “mom look” and sauntered back inside.

~~

That night, weighted down by grief and half delirious with exhaustion, Adam opened the bag. He pulled out the box of white envelopes, cracked open the pack of college-rule paper, and grabbed a black pen from the cup at the right of his desk. This is so stupid, he thought as he put his pen to paper...

i. You, I never knew your name. You left before I ever had the chance to ask. I wish more than anything that I knew your name, at least then I’d be able to grieve a person instead of a stranger in an alley. You were… Exquisite. Even floating in a pool of your own life, you were beautiful. You were. Past tense. Gone. I dreamed of knowing you. The idea of you, in abstract my whole life. I didn’t know who you’d be, but, still I dreamed. It was my secret. The odds of finding your soulmate are so slim these days, and yet… In the quiet hours of the night, bone tired and barely standing at work, or when the hunger pains threatened to cripple me, I’d pull you out of the careful place in my mind, and dream. It’s dangerous to dream. I know better now. You fucking left me. How dare you? It’s probably a good thing you’ll never read these letters. Blue, my best friend, suggested I write them to help me “find closure.” That’s very Blue. She’s all about self-care and talking through feelings. Henry, my other friend, agrees with her. So here I am, attempting to vomit my heart on a page in hope of finding some semblance of peace. There is so much I wish I could have told you, and so much more that would have terrified me to admit. That’s one benefit to your never knowing me I suppose... Honestly, it was probably for the best that, in the end, you never had the chance to try knowing me. I’m a disaster. I’m unknowable. And that’s, fine. Ya know? I’m okay, I think. Holding onto that which sets me apart, and working my hardest to  fix everything else that’s in my power. That’s how I got here, Georgetown. I did it myself.  That’s something I would have told you, because it’s something I am proud of, though I’ll never say. I worked 3 jobs through highschool, made straight A’s, volunteered, and slaved away. I saved money in a shoebox under a loose vent in my trailer to buy books. My dad would have killed me, literally, if he’d ever found that. I was supposed to give them everything, but I hid that. I hid so much. I got really good at hiding in that place. Henrietta… What a fucking shit show. Anyways, I saved and pushed myself. I think I ate maybe once a day for those years, if I was lucky? I know I barely slept. But it was worth it the day the acceptance letter came in the mail. Georgetown. 3 hours away. A world away. A full ride. I was so fucking happy that day, I even allowed myself to dip into the shoebox to buy a coke fom the gas station by the autoshop I worked at. That was my life then, and still is now, to some extent. Small rewards, focus on the bigger picture. Work, work, work, and then one day have the power and money, the status, the ability to fight for people like me. I had barely put the box back when my dad, Robert, saw me holding my acceptance letter, and a $20. I wasn’t allowed to have money in my room, even if I made it myself. It was “for the family” he always said. “Do you want us to starve?” “you think you’re so fancy at your charter school don’t you?” always the same. Always cruel. So I’m standing there, money and letter in hand, smiling like an idiot when he comes in. I’ll never forget that day. I’d taken so many beatings from him by the time I was 17, it was second nature really. But this one? For some reason it surprised me. I thought for sure that he would be capable of some sense of joy. I got into college, for free. But Robert wasn’t like that. I could smell the beer on his breath. Keystone, always fucking Keystone. It smells like piss. It still makes me gag.  “What the fuck is that?” he asked. And I didn’t know how to respond. I remember stuttering. I was always stuttering, mumbling, hiding, lying. Anything to avoid the inevitable. “I asked you a question, boy.”  I panicked. “Its, uh, a letter, sir. An acceptance letter. From college. I-I got in.” Apparently it wasn’t the right response. I don’t remember much after that, I know he told me I had no right to hide money because I “owed him.” I always owed him. For breathing, for having the audacity to live. That night was the worst I can remember though. He wouldn’t stop. He was screaming about how I wasn’t allowed to just leave. I took more hits than usual, but I could have handled it. I’m no stranger to broken bones and bruises. But I was so scared this time. I knew, somehow I knew that this was it. If I didn’t get out he was going to kill me. Kill me because of a $20 and a full ride. I tried to run. I did.  I never made it very far though. He caught me, and the last thing I remember was a screaming pain in the left side of my head. I don’t know why I’m even writing all this, maybe Blue and Henry were right? I’ve never even told them all of this. I really doubt I would have told you this had I been given the chance. I would have stuck to the barest details: Deaf in left ear. Accident. Long time ago. I don’t talk to my parents.  Or maybe I wouldn’t have hid…Soulmates are a safe space right? Through whatever magic, or science, or God (if you believe in one of those, I don’t- hope you wouldn’t have cared) we are supposed to be able to share it all. A balance. A quiet place. A home. I wonder what you would have said if I told you? I hope it wouldn’t have been pitying. I don’t do pity. I’ll never know that though, which is maybe a relief? I don’t know. I hope you would have been proud though, that I did get out. Of what I’m doing with my life now. I haven’t even told “you” have I? I got a double Bachelors in Political Science and Conflict Resolution. I’m currently taking a Masters in Public Policy. I know, most people see “Georgetown” and “Politics” and think “Here’s another white guy with dreams of power.” But it’s not that. I’m going to change things, my thesis is on Domestic Violence: prevention and programs. I’m going to fight for the kids like me, in the homes like mine. I’m going to fight for every time I didn’t hit back. Every bruise and broken bone. I’m going to change the world for the Adam Parrish’s. I’m going to bring an end to the Roberts.  That’s what I’m doing now. I guess I’ll be okay without you. I’ve always been better at work than relationships anyway. If we’re being honest you probably would have hated me. I’m terrible with making time for anyone. I have goals though, I don’t have the luxery to fuck around. I’m not conducive to a partnership, and I’m not even sure I’d be capable of love.  I would have tried for you though.  Maybe you needed that. Maybe if you’d had it, love, you wouldn’t have ended up in the alley. I don’t know. I wish I could ask you why. I just… fuck. This letter is getting severely out of hand.  It doesn’t matter why you did it.  You did. And that’s that I suppose.  Forever a mystery, the man with the beautiful face and ice blue eyes. “I used to build dreams about you.” - F. Scott Fitzgerald, Benediction That’s all you are now. A dream.

He folded the pages in thirds, slipping them in an envelope, and sealing them away. On the outside he wrote the number one, then slid the envelope into a crack between one of his potted plants and a row of books on his window sill. Then Adam crawled into bed and finally slept; for once it was a dreamless- restorative sleep.

~~

Shattered heart hanging heavy in his chest, Adam looked up when the bell above the door to Nino’s chimed the arrival of a new patron. The young couple made their way towards the counter. The smaller man leaning lovingly into the side of his partner, while the taller man looked down lovingly, arm draped across the first’s shoulders. It was a quiet moment, something so personal and beautiful Adam looked down, he didn’t want to intrude. His hands were shaking, a bitter jealousy crashing like waves in a storm through his entire being. He took a steadying breath, trying to quell the rage, and uncapped the black marker, grabbing a cup to prepare to take their order. 

“Hi,” he bit out through his customer service smile. He looked up from the cup in hand, allowing a little of his Henrietta lilt to color his words into something close to friendly. “Welcome to Nino’s, what can I get started for you today?” 

“Hi! Can we please get a- Oh, wow!” The shorter man had stopped mid-sentence and leaned close to Adam across the counter. “Your eyes are so blue! Babe, have you ever seen eyes so beautiful?” Adam wanted to fucking snap. The larger man leaned in as well and hummed in approval.

“No I haven’t, sorry. I know this is probably so inappropriate,” he leaned back, tone placating. “We don’t mean to make you uncomfortable, this is just all new for us-”

Adam didn’t fucking care.

“-Anyways, can we please get two Americanos, and a a slice of apple pie with two forks?”

Of course, Adam nodded. He finished the order and made the drinks with shaking hands and a barely controlled rage burning him from within, blooming pink across his cheeks.

 He couldn’t breathe. 

When he returned home, he slammed his door and flew to his desk; practically tearing a lined sheet from the pile of supplies from Blue and began to write. Pen pressed so hard small tears formed in the paper as he purged…

ii.

You.

Fuck you for what you did. For what you did to yourself. What you did to that man in the alley. Screaming. Begging. Holding you together.

 For what you did to me. 

I hate you. 

I hate that I love you. The idea of you. Because you couldn’t even wait for me. I never got the chance to love the real you, and I loathe you for it.

You fucking left me alone.

All this goddamn color, all these beautiful things, and I’m still living in black and white. 

I’m drowning.

You were my hope. 

You were my end game. Sometimes, I fear you’ll be my end. 

I can’t get away from the idea of you.

I see your face every time I close my eyes.

You’re haunting me.

You’re ruining me.

Fuck you. 

I hate you.

Fuck, You.

You…

Why did you leave me all alone?

When he finished his breath was ragged, chest rising and falling in heavy swells. Angry tears drying splotches across the page before him, turning certain words into a blurry but still legible watercolor. He threw his pen across the room, shoved the letter into the envelope marked 2, and placed it alongside the first. 

~~

Adam spent the remaining days of September numb. He had taken to carrying a few sheets of paper and envelopes in his messenger bag in case he ever needed them. 

It was on one particular afternoon -two days before September ended- as he sat in Nino’s sipping coffee and staring blankly at the textbook in front of him, that he wrote his third letter. He felt untethered, unbalanced, the sky outside was such a pale blue that his mind began to wander. With a sigh, he pulled out a sheet of paper, and an envelope marking the outside with the number three. 

iii.

You,

I’m so lost…

I can’t fall asleep without seeing your eyes.

Unfocused.

Unblinking. 

Ice cold.

Fathomless.

Broken.

I wonder how they looked when you were happy… I hope you were happy, truly happy. At least once there before the end.

I bet they were beautiful.

Come back.

Please…

Adam stayed staring at that plea, that unanswered wish, until his coffee was cold. He wondered if this would ever end, he wasn’t unfamiliar with want. Adam had wanted more than anyone he had ever known. He was accustomed to the pain, the resentment that came with wanting that which you cannot have, but unlike all the other times this was wholly unattainable. No amount of extra shifts, A’s on homework, perfect test scores, hard-work would ever give him this particular want. 

He packed his bag slowly, tossing his coffee in the trash by the door and waving half-heartedly at his coworker behind the counter. The bell chimed his departure and he made his way out into the chilly September afternoon. The walk from Nino’s to his apartment was blessedly short. As he rounded the corner at the end of the block he was assaulted by the acrid smell of smoke.

Adam looked up, chill already forgotten, for the source and his eyes landed on a peculiar sight: A handsome man, in a nice crisp peacoat and cashmere scarf. Standing, hands clasped behind his neck, staring into the open maw of a smoking, Candy-Orange, ‘73 Camero.

“Hey!” he half shouted, making his way towards the gentleman, his greeting had clearly disturbed an emotional crisis. “Hey, sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you, did you maybe need some help?”

“Oh, hi. Yes, Hello. I’m, no thank you. I’m alright. I’ll give someone a call, The Pig is an auto-shop frequent flyer I’m afraid. Though, I’ve never seen it smoke quite so heavily.” The man half laughed, and shook his head.

“I don’t mind, I’m actually a mechanic down at Boyds. I can take a peak and see if I can do anything here if you’d like? Save you a trip.”

“Are you sure? I’d be more than happy to pay y-”

Adam shook his head fiercely, “No need. I’m Adam, by the way.” 

He held out his hand towards the man, who grasped his in kind. A vibrant smile lit his face, “Lovely to meet you Adam, I’m Gansey.”

#pynch #pynch fic #Adam Parrish #ronan lynch #ronan x adam #blue sargent #gansey #gangsey #bd au

[emmerrr]

heyyyy if you wanna write a pynch vday fic, how about one where they're like... both trying to be sneaky about planning sth for valentines day and so both think the other has forgotten about it and they're both like ://// but it all uhh works out in the end?? x

what a top notch suggestion, absoLUTELY i can write that 💕💕 (uhh heads up this got kinda long, i’ll put it on ao3 too and reblog with a link later)

-

Adam sat alone in a corner booth of Nino’s, History notes open on the table before him. He’d written VALENTINE’S DAY?? in the margin, underlined three times. He frowned at the words, wondering why he was fixating on them, and turned his head to stare listlessly out of the window instead.

Blue was there working, but she’d been too busy to come and say hello so far, simply offering him a harried wave when she spotted him walk in, pointing him towards the table he was now seated at. The other staff at Nino’s never bothered them anymore, knowing Blue would cover their table. Adam had heard them being referred to as “Blue’s Boys” on more than one occasion.

He was currently the only one there, having beaten Henry and Gansey out of the school gates. He assumed they’d got held up by a traffic light or two, and Ronan had further to drive than the rest of them so would likely arrive last anyway.

Thinking of Ronan immediately returned Adam’s thoughts to the words written in his notes and he scowled at the parking lot. On the surface, Valentine’s Day didn’t seem like it would be Ronan’s thing. Adam wasn’t even particularly sure it was his thing. But the fact remained that Valentine’s Day was a week away, and Adam didn’t know what, if anything, he was expected to do for it.

He tried to think back to previous years and remembered receiving an anonymous card from someone back in the seventh grade; a generic heart-shaped thing that simply said ‘Will you be my Valentine? x’ inside. He was fairly certain the sender was a girl in his English class who had never said a word to him but blushed every time she caught his eye. Adam didn’t see how he was supposed to answer whether or not he’d be her Valentine if she never told him she had sent it. And of course, she never owned up, and he didn’t want to suggest it was her in case he was wrong, and he didn’t actually want to be her Valentine anyway. So it was never mentioned again.

The difference here was that Ronan was his actual boyfriend. Didn’t that mean that they were each other’s Valentines by default, then?

Adam didn’t know. He’d never navigated Valentine’s Day before. Not like this.

He was so lost in his own thoughts that he didn’t hear Henry and Gansey approach until they were right there.

“Oh, History notes,” Henry exclaimed. “Can I borrow them?”

Adam turned his head to see Henry already sliding the notebook towards him. “Your notes are always make more sense than mi—” Henry cut himself off, eyes widening at something on the page. Too late Adam remembered the VALENTINE’S DAY?? in the margin and slapped his hand over it, snatching back his notebook.

Henry was grinning at him. “Big plans?”

“No,” Adam muttered. “No plans at all.” He stuffed the notebook into his messenger bag.

Gansey had slid into the booth opposite Adam and watched the exchange with raised eyebrows. “What have I missed?”

“Nothing, apparently,” Henry said easily. Adam was grateful that Henry clearly wasn’t going to push it (at least not with an audience), but reasoned he could perhaps use some advice.

“So,” he started. “Valentine’s Day. Thoughts?”

“I’m glad you asked, Parrish,” Gansey said. “It was originally a Western Christian feast day honouring a couple of early saints called Valentinius—”

“Yes, thank you, Captain Wikipedia,” Henry cut in. “I’m not entirely sure that’s what he meant.”

A jug of Iced Tea was plonked onto the table without ceremony and they all looked up to Blue Sargent as she handed out glasses.

“It’s a dumb holiday invented by Hallmark to sell more cards,” she said, obviously having heard the tail-end of the conversation.

“Well, obviously there’s that too,” Gansey said, beaming at her. 

Adam sighed. They were all monumentally unhelpful. 

“Why the interest, Adam?” Blue asked, a knowing glint in her eye.

“I don’t know,” he said with a shrug. “I’m just…okay, with Ronan, do I just treat it like any other day? Do I get him a card? Will he think it’s stupid? Do I think it’s stupid?”

There was a short silence as the three of them blinked back at him, and then Blue carefully said, “Do you think it’s stupid?” 

Adam wasn’t sure how to answer that. The truth was that he sort of did think it was stupid, but he also thought he wanted to acknowledge it anyway. He thought doing nothing at all kind of made him look like an asshole.

In the end, it all circled back to Ronan, and whether he would care. Did he have anything planned? Was he having an internal crisis over it as well?

In lieu of an answer, Adam shrugged again.

“Speak of the devil,” Henry said, and nodded towards the entrance.

Ronan, dressed all in black (of course), had just stepped inside. He scanned the restaurant without turning his head but when he spotted Adam, his shoulders relaxed, and he smiled just a little.

Adam didn’t think he’d ever get tired of seeing that.

“Oh god, you two are the worst,” Blue scoffed as Ronan started to make his way over.

“What?” Adam said without looking at her.

“You know exactly what, Adam Parrish. You and Ronan with the googly eyes. Jesus Christ, you’re in public. Tone it down.”

“You tone it down,” Ronan said jovially, hip-checking Blue as he drew level. “What are we talking about?”

“The origins of Valentine’s Day,” Gansey said delicately.

Ronan snorted derisively. “Valentine’s Day,” he said with as much scorn as he could muster, “is capitalistic bullshit invented to sell cards and flowers and chocolate.”

“Hey man, that’s exactly what I said,” Blue said, sounding pleased, and she and Ronan fist-bumped. Adam rolled his eyes. They really were two sides of the same coin.

“You’re in my seat, Cheng,” Ronan said.

“Sit by Gansey, I was here first.”

Ronan shrugged. “Fair’s fair.” He stepped up onto the seat and over Henry and squeezed into the spot between him and Adam.

“Ronan Lynch,” Gansey hissed. “You’ll get us kicked out!”

“Calm down, Dick, no one noticed,” Ronan said. He had both arms stretched out across the back of the booth, and Adam and Henry were both leaning into him a little thanks to the lack of space.

“This is cozy,” Henry said cheerfully.

It was Blue’s turn to roll her eyes and she pulled her little notepad out of her apron pocket. “Alright, I have to actually do my job now, what do you want? Gansey, I’m assuming you want your usual half-avocado monstrosity?”

“You’re a millennial, Blue, you’re supposed to like avocados.”

Her disgusted expression was answer enough. The rest of them rattled off their food order and then Blue went off to put it through.

“Doesn’t anyone want to come and sit by me?” Gansey asked. “It’s lonely over here.”

“Oh, don’t pull that face, Gansey, you’re making me sad,” Henry said, swapping sides. He scooched right the way over to Gansey and draped an arm around his shoulder before sighing loftily. “It’s hard being this popular.”

“But someone has to do it,” Adam said drily, earning him a quicksilver smile.

“And I do it so well.”

Ronan was stopping at Adam’s for the night, but they had each come to Nino’s in their own cars so separated in the parking lot to drive over to St Agnes in a convoy.

Ronan was already peeling out of the lot by the time Adam reached his shitbox, and he was held up further by Henry calling his name. He turned and Henry jogged over, Gansey nowhere to be seen and most likely still inside saying goodbye to Blue.

“Oh, sorry,” Adam said. “You wanted my History notes, right?”

“No, that’s not — well, yeah, actually, thank you,” he said, taking them when Adam handed them over. “I actually came over here to give you some unsolicited advice.”

“About the Valentine’s Day thing?”

“That’s the one.”

Adam shrugged. “It’s not entirely unsolicited. But anyway, it doesn’t matter anymore. You heard him.”

“Yeah, I heard him. Sounds like posturing to me.”

Adam tilted his head to the side. “You think?” Ronan certainly was prone to posturing.

“Sure. I mean, I have no doubt that he really does think Valentine’s Day is what he said in there, but I wouldn’t let that put you off doing something, if you wanted to.” Henry waited for a response, and when Adam didn’t offer one, he prompted, “You do want to, don’t you?”

Adam smiled wryly. “Is it that obvious?”

“Only if you know what to look for,” Henry said, but before Adam could think on that too much, he continued. “Look, I don’t know Ronan as well as you do, but even from the outside, it’s clear how he feels about you.”

Feeling himself blush, Adam immediately looked down at the ground. He did know how Ronan felt about him. It was often whispered to him in the middle of the night when it felt like they were the only two people in the world. It just took him off guard to hear it so plainly from someone else.

“Think about it, Adam. Regardless of how Ronan personally feels about what Valentine’s Day stands for, do you really think he’s going to let a day when he’s practically green-lit to be as obnoxious as possible about you just pass him by?” Henry shook his head. “Not the Ronan Lynch I know.”

Well, when it was put that way. “Did he say something to you? Do you know something?”

“Not a thing,” Henry said, and Adam believed him. “It’s just an observation and an educated guess.”

“Huh,” Adam said thoughtfully. He pulled his car keys out of his pocket and tossed them in the air, catching them again, ideas already forming in his head. If Ronan was going to be obnoxious, Adam could be obnoxious too. “Thanks, Henry. I’ll see you tomorrow. Don’t lose my notes.”

“I will try my level best.”

Adam gave himself three rules for Ronan’s Valentine’s gift:

1) It had to be heartfelt.

2) It also had to be in good humour and not take itself too seriously.

3) It had to be cheap.

He was too sensible to spend money he didn’t have on some arbitrary gift Ronan wouldn’t appreciate. Not to mention that Ronan was impossible enough to buy for as it was; firstly he was rich enough to buy himself pretty much anything he might want, and secondly he could literally manifest his dreams. It was going to make future birthdays and Christmas’s an absolute nightmare.

(But what a wonderful problem to have.)

What it all basically meant was that Adam had to go homemade, and given that he had school and work (and Ronan) to work around, he didn’t have a whole lot of time to do it.

He borrowed Gansey’s laptop during lunch-break on Monday at Aglionby and made Ronan a mix-CD of the cheesiest love songs he could think of. It featured such classics as You Make My Dreams by Hall & Oates, Heaven by Bryan Adams, True by Spandau Ballet, and many, many more. It wasn’t even remotely Ronan’s kind of music which made it funny, but as embarrassing as some of the songs might have been, they did actually somewhat echo Adam’s own feelings. He got to be a sap in the guise of it being a joke, and Ronan would get a kick out of it.

Obviously, he also added the Murder Squash Song for good measure.

Next up was a card. He could have bought one — his budget would have allowed it — but all the store ones were godawful and Adam couldn’t even imagine giving one of them to Ronan ironically.

Luckily he had an ace up his sleeve.

The first time that Ronan had stayed over at Adam’s after they were together in the very early days of their relationship, Adam had woken up to a frozen Ronan with a handful of strangely lovely flowers, the exact shade of blue as Adam’s eyes.

Adam had kept them in a cheap vase on the windowsill until they died, but unbeknownst to Ronan, he’d also taken one and pressed it to make a little print; his own private memento.

He was obviously keeping the original for himself, but he took it into the school library a couple of days before Valentine’s Day and scanned it, printing it out on some high quality photo card he’d ‘acquired’ from one of the Art rooms.

Once the ink was dry, he folded it down the middle as carefully as possible and put it inside his heaviest textbook to keep it folded and flat until he got it home.

He spent longer than probably necessary trying to decide what to write, but in the end, he went with:

Ronan,

I think maybe it was always you. I think it always will be. Happy Valentine’s Day (gross).

Love, Adam x

He didn’t have a nice envelope to put it in, so it had to go in a bigger manila one that Adam still had lying around. He slipped both the card and the CD inside, and wrote Ronan’s name in capitals on the outside.

He looked at his offering. It somehow didn’t seem enough.

Valentine’s Day was on Thursday, so on Wednesday— after school but before a shift at Boyd’s— Adam found himself in the kitchen of 300 Fox Way. He’d bought everything he needed to make chocolate brownies before he’d realised he didn’t have a tin in which to cook them in. He was also severely lacking in several other kitchen utensils, to be honest. One panicked phone-call to Blue later, and he had everything he needed and a helping hand.

Well, ‘helping’ was a strong word.

“Why brownies?” Blue asked from where she sat perched on the kitchen table.

“Because brownies are the best,” Adam said, frowning at the recipe he had printed out.

“Alright, can’t argue with that,” Blue said reasonably.

Adam was aware of her watching him while he slowly got out everything he needed and started weighing out ingredients. He felt unreasonably nervous about it, even though he knew that provided he followed the recipe, everything would be fine. Baking was a science, after all, and Adam was good at science.

But looking at it all now with Blue scrutinising his every move, he felt flustered and unmoored.

“I thought you were going to help,” he said pointedly.

“I am helping. I’m supervising,” Blue said.

Adam smiled at that. “I see. Are you the kind of supervisor who can grease this tin for me?”

“I suppose so,” Blue said loftily as she launched herself off the table.

Blue started chattering away after that which helped Adam calm down and focus on what he was doing, and it didn’t take long to make the mixture after that. Adam tilted the pan while Blue used a wooden spoon to scrape the mixture out and into the brownie tin.

After that, they just had to put it in the oven and wait.

Blue brewed up some of Maura’s least offensive tea as they sat and waited, and Adam finally asked what he’d been dying to all week.

“Do you know if Ronan has anything planned?”

Blue smiled and shook her head. “Honestly, Adam, I have absolutely no idea. He hasn’t said a word. I’ve barely seen him though, and never really without you there.” She shrugged. “If he’s got a plan he’s keeping it close to his chest.”

Adam nodded; he’d assumed as much. “I just want to know if I’m doing too much, or not doing enough? I dunno, it’s stupid. It’s only Valentine’s Day.”

“Yeah, but it’s your first Valentine’s Day together,” Blue said, not unkindly. “I get it.”

“What are you and Gansey doing?” 

“I made him a card and found him a couple of ‘slovenly’ t-shirts at the thrift store. I’m gonna hazard a guess that he’s getting me flowers, and he told me to keep the evening free so he’s probably taking me somewhere. Wherever it is, it better not be expensive.”

Adam grinned. “Maybe it’s Nino’s.”

“God, don’t even joke, I’d murder him. Again.”

He started to laugh, and after a couple of seconds Blue joined in. When it died down, Blue put her hand on his arm.

“Don’t overthink it, Adam. Ronan will love whatever you give him, because you’re the one it’s coming from. It’s not about the gifts you get or the meal you have or how much money you spend. I think it’s more about the gesture. That’s what’ll mean the most to Ronan.”

Adam managed a small smile. “I hope you’re right.”

“Of course I’m right.” Blue opened a drawer and gasped, then pulled out a heart-shaped cookie cutter. “Oh my God, Adam, you have to.”

She held out the cookie-cutter towards him and he took it, sighing. “Really?”

“Yes! This way, they’ll all be exactly the same size and I get to eat all the cut-offs. Y’know, as my fee for helping.”

And that’s how Adam ended up with nine perfect little heart-shaped brownies.

Adam didn’t see Ronan that night, thanks to finishing late at Boyd’s and then having homework after. 

When he woke up in the morning, he was hit by the realisation that he and Ronan hadn’t even arranged to see each other that day at all.

He half expected Ronan to show up at St Agnes unannounced with a bouquet of dream flowers and some donuts or something. But that didn’t happen, and Adam slowly packed his messenger bag for school, remembering to include the Tupperware of Valentine’s brownies and the envelope with its enclosed card and CD.

He wasn’t sure when he’d be able to give them to Ronan, but it was better to be prepared.

Adam walked down to his car, scanning the parking lot and the street to see if there was any sign of a shark-nosed BMW. But there was nothing, and there was nothing on the way to school, and Adam made it all the way through to lunch without seeing or hearing from Ronan.

Obviously, he had no phone, and Ronan hated his own phone. But Gansey had a phone, and Ronan could have got in touch that way if he had felt so inclined.

Adam didn’t know what he’d been expecting; that Ronan would show up at the Aglionby gates with a boombox over his head blasting out Lionel Richie songs? That he’d get back to his car after school and find out his favourite hooligan had broken in and left him a giant teddy bear and a box of chocolates?

It all seemed stupid now, and Valentine’s Day was stupid, and Adam was irritated that he’d let the pressures of the day get to him. It didn’t matter. It was a meaningless day.

So why did he feel so deflated?

At the end of the day, he caved and asked to borrow Gansey’s phone.

First, he sent a text that said: it’s adam, i’m about to call you so answer the phone

He gave it a minute until he’d seen that Ronan had read the message, and then pressed the call button.

“Parrish,” Ronan said in lieu of a hello.

All at once, like always, Adam was happy to hear Ronan’s voice. And yet he still couldn’t quite shake his irritation, even though the one who’d got his hopes up was himself.

“Hey,” he replied. “Listen, were you planning on coming over tonight?”

“Nope.” It was a little difficult to tell, but Adam thought Ronan’s tone was just a little off. “You come here.”

Adam sighed. “Ronan, I have school tomorrow so I wouldn’t even be able to stay that late. Can’t you just come here?”

There was a long pause. “Opal wants to see you.”

“So bring her with you.��

“Are you kidding, Parrish, she’s filthy. She’ll mess up the interior.”

The BMW wasn’t exactly spotless inside so this seemed a flimsy excuse. Adam started to wonder whether Ronan even wanted to see him at all.

“If you don’t want to see me today that’s fine,” he said, tone clipped.

“I didn’t say that,” Ronan said, tone just as clipped.

It felt like they were heading for a fight. Adam didn’t want to fight. He wanted to give Ronan the stupid sentimental CD he’d made. He wanted Ronan to make fun of him for the brownies. He wanted a hug.

Adam was abruptly exhausted, and it didn’t matter that he’d gone to the effort and Ronan hadn’t. He just wanted to see him.

“Okay,” he said. “I’m gonna go home and shower but then I’ll head over to you.”

“Okay, good. See you in a bit,” Ronan said, and hung up.

The sun was down by the time Adam pulled up at the Barns. The heating in Adam’s car was dodgy enough on a good today, and today wasn’t a good day. It had barely come on, so his hands were like ice as he got out of the car.

He walked straight in when he got there and made his way to the kitchen. He hovered in the doorway; Ronan’s back was to him, a tea towel strewn over one shoulder, straining pasta over the sink.

Adam rapped his knuckles against the door-frame and Ronan turned around.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey,” Adam replied. “You cooked?”

Ronan shrugged. “It’s just spaghetti.” He gestured to Adam’s messenger bag. “You brought homework with you?”

All that was in the bag was the Valentine’s gifts for Ronan, and he shook his head. “Nope.”

“Okay,” Ronan said with another shrug. “Sit. Let’s eat, I’m starving.”

Adam pulled himself a chair out, and it scraped against the floor noisily in the otherwise quiet. He waited for Ronan to finish serving up and then asked, “Where’s Opal?”

“No idea. Haven’t seen her since this afternoon.”

Adam took a bite of his food. It was good. “I thought you said she wanted to see me.”

“She always wants to see you,” Ronan said smoothly. “I’m sure she’ll turn up when she spots your car.”

They finished eating in near silence, Adam waiting for Ronan to say something— anything— to acknowledge the day. But he didn’t, and the longer the silence dragged, the harder it seemed to break it.

Adam started towards the sink to do the washing up afterwards, but Ronan stopped him with a hand on his arm.

“Just leave it, Parrish.”

“But—”

“Leave them. I’ll do them in the morning.” 

Adam sighed, uncomfortable in the tension. He didn’t know what to do now. Did Ronan just want him to leave? And if so, why had he told him to come in the first place?

“Look, do you know what day it is?” Adam asked, unable to take it any longer.

“It’s Thursday,” Ronan said, chin jutted out, arms crossed. Adam glared; Ronan clearly knew exactly what day it was.

“Okay, great,” Adam said tiredly. He opened his bag and pulled out the Tupperware and the envelope. “Happy Valentine’s Day, I guess.”

He put them on the table and stepped away, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms. He watched Ronan’s face, the expression on which had softened immediately. He looked to Adam, stricken.

“Parrish, I—”

“It’s fine, Ronan, just open them.”

Ronan snapped his mouth shut, and pulled the envelope over to him. Adam immediately felt self-conscious about his meagre homemade gifts.

“It’s not much,” he said quickly.

Ronan’s only response to this was a slight furrow in his brow. Then he took the CD out, quirking a smile at Adam’s inscription: LYNCH’S CHEESY LOVE SONG SINGALONG. It was surrounded by lots of hand drawn love-hearts that Adam now thought seemed excessive.

Ronan looked up and raised an eyebrow at Adam, a half-smirk on his face. “No track-list, Parrish?”

“It’s a surprise,” Adam said, smiling weakly, but relieved. “You’ll have to play it to find out.”

“I’ll do that,” he said with a sage nod. He put the CD down and reached for the Tupperware, pulling the lid off and tossing it aside. He looked inside and snorted. “You’ve really stuck with a theme here, huh, Parrish?”

“Hey, Valentine’s Day is all about the hearts, apparently. And to be fair, the heart-shaped brownies are Blue’s fault. She found a cookie-cutter and insisted.”

“She knew about this?” Ronan said.

“Yeah, she helped me make them.”

“That little sneak...” Ronan trailed off and let out a sharp laugh. “I asked her if she knew whether or not you were doing something, and she swore blind she had no idea.”

Adam thought about asking why Ronan had even wanted to know, but instead he pointed at the envelope. “There’s a card in there, as well.”

“In here?” Ronan turned the envelope upside down and the card slipped out into his hand. Adam watched as he took in the flower on the front, smiled a little, then did a double-take, glancing at Adam. “Hold on. Is this what I think it is?”

Adam rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah. I, uh, I pressed one, before they all died. I wanted to keep it, I guess.”

“Yeah,” Ronan said, something akin to awe in his voice. “I dream about them all the time.” He opened the card and read what Adam had written there, then dropped his face into his hands. 

“Parrish...” he mumbled. “I feel like a fucking asshole.”

Adam went over and gently pulled the card out of Ronan’s hand, sitting down on Ronan’s lap. Ronan’s arms circled his waist automatically and he tucked his face into Adam’s neck.

“You are a fucking asshole, Lynch. I love you anyway.”

Ronan grumbled something incoherently against Adam’s skin, and Adam smiled. “What was that?”

Ronan lifted his head so he could be heard. “I said I love you right back.”

“Good,” Adam said.

“I thought you’d forgotten. And I didn’t...I didn’t want a big deal, and this day is a fucking joke or whatever, but you didn’t mention anything. And I even thought you might borrow Gansey’s phone and like, text me or something this morning? But then you didn’t and when you finally called me you sounded annoyed and I didn’t know why, and I didn’t even think you wanted to come over. So then you finally got here and you seemed mad, and so I was mad and...I’m sorry. I was here thinking you didn’t give a shit and you made stuff for me?” He hung his head, penitent. “I love my gifts. These lame brownies smell great. I’m fucking sorry, Parrish.”

“Hey.” Adam cupped Ronan’s head in his hands. “It’s fine that you didn’t get me anything. Honestly I think I just let this whole day get into my head as having to mean something when it doesn’t. I don’t need a special day to let you know how I feel. And I’m sorry if I seemed mad. I just didn’t know what to expect. I didn’t mean to make it weird.”

He leaned in and kissed Ronan briefly. “And Lynch, you cooked for me. You made me a whole meal. I’m pretty sure we’re even.” He kissed him again, until Ronan pulled back and covered Adam’s hands with his own.

“Um...you should come with me,” Ronan said, and he almost sounded sheepish.

They stood up and Ronan swiped the mix CD off the table and shoved it in the pocket of his hoodie, before taking Adam’s hand and leading him out the back door.

Confused but intrigued, Adam followed closely behind, clutching tight to Ronan’s fingers. It was cold outside and neither of them had their coats on, which Adam was about to point out when they walked around the corner of the nearest barn and he was rendered speechless by the sight before him.

In the middle of the grass was a small gazebo tent, the base of which was covered in luxurious looking blankets. There was a laptop in the middle of the floor, hooked up to a projector which was pointing at the outer-wall of the barn. A precarious tower of DVDs was piled up next to the laptop; Adam couldn’t see the titles from here but imagined Ronan had assembled a variety of choices. There was a big thermos, contents unknown (coffee? Hot chocolate?), and various other treats; big bags of marshmallows and Hershey’s Kisses and Reese’s Mini Peanut-Butter Cups.

And everywhere, there was light. Ronan’s twinkling little dream lights, some in jars under the gazebo, others hanging in the air, changing colour, like little fireflies.

“Ronan,” Adam finally managed hoarsely. “What the fuck?”

Ronan smirked. “You thought I hadn’t done anything.”

“Uh, yeah, because you let me think that!” Adam said. He was struggling to process how cosy and romantic it all looked. Let it never be said that Ronan Lynch wasn’t an absolute sap.

“I didn’t let you think anything, you jumped to that conclusion all on your own.”

Adam scowled. “Now I feel like a fucking asshole.”

“Don’t,” Ronan said, pressing a kiss to Adam’s temple. “Anyway, this is nothing.”

“It is so far from nothing,” Adam said. He stepped forward and took a turn around, taking everything in as he walked in a slow circle, stopping when he was facing Ronan again. “I thought Valentine’s Day was capitalistic bullshit?”

“Oh, it is,” Ronan said happily. “But for one, I didn’t spend a penny. And two, a whole day where I can spoil you as much as I want to and you don’t get to complain about it? Sign me the fuck up for that.”

Adam burst out laughing. “You’ve just reminded me of something Henry said.”

“What did he say?”

“I told him that I wasn’t sure whether or not you’d do anything because we hadn’t talked about it, and he said, and I quote: ‘do you really think he’s going to let a day when he’s practically green-lit to be as obnoxious as possible about you just pass him by?’”

Ronan was grinning now. “Cheng’s pretty smart.” 

“Yeah,” Adam said. He caught one of the floating lights in his hand and then let it go again. “Just for the record, I think your dreaming abilities give you an unfair advantage when it comes to stuff like this.”

“Excuse you, Parrish, the only thing I dreamt up was the blankets because they’re heated. Oh, and the projector. And the gazebo. But that’s it.”

“‘That’s it’, he says.” Adam rolled his eyes, then accusingly added, “You dreamt up the lights.”

“Well, yeah, but not for this. I already had those. And the food was stuff I already had in the house, and the DVDs are ones I already own. I didn’t want to go overboard.”

Adam stared. “You are ridiculous,” he said, shaking his head. “Come here.”

Ronan went, without question or hesitation, and Adam wrapped his arms around his neck.

“This is the sweetest thing anybody’s ever done for me,” he said softly. “Thank you.”

“Thank you,” Ronan whispered, kissing a line up Adam’s neck and across his face, the tip of his nose, his forehead, “for the brownies, for what you wrote in the card...Jesus, Adam. It’s the same for me. You know that, right? It’s always you.”  

Adam squeezed tighter, feeling dangerously overcome. He breathed in the familiar, comforting smell of Ronan, and then released his grip. “And for the CD, obviously,” he said.

“Of course,” Ronan said, and smiled sharply. “Speaking of...” He pulled it out of his pocket and walked over to his laptop. “I’ll let you pick a movie in a bit, but first, I wanna listen to my present.”

He popped the CD into the drive and pressed a couple of buttons on the mouse, and a moment later the opening track started to play: I Wanna Dance With Somebody by Whitney Houston.

Ronan laughed, once, soundlessly, then came back over to Adam and held his hand out. 

“Well?” he said when Adam didn’t move. “Are you dancing?”

Adam grinned. “Are you asking?”

“I’m asking.”

“Then I’m dancing.” He took Ronan’s hand and together they swayed, far too slowly for a song this upbeat, but Ronan didn’t seem to mind, and Adam certainly didn’t.

They didn’t speak while they were dancing, both perhaps a little shaken at the near-miss of an argument, both relieved they hadn’t let it get that far. Both content to be in each other’s company, away from prying eyes and expectations.

It was still early days. They were still learning how to do this, navigating firsts and futures and each other, but they were both quick studies, and Adam couldn’t think of anything more worthwhile than building a foundation— and a life— with Ronan.

There were trickier days to come, but for now, they’d survived their first Valentine’s Day as a couple. As they lay curled together in a blanket watching The Princess Bride projected onto the side of a barn, Adam thought he’d have to mark this one down as a win.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Parrish,” Ronan whispered into Adam’s hair.

“Ugh,” Adam said, and kissed him. “Happy Thursday.”

#the raven cycle #pynch #tumblr prompts #lesbianparrish #adamparrishes #trc

[nxah-czerny]

How do pynch deal with long distance??

ronan starts using his phone a lot more

like actually has his ringer on and answers immediately when adam is the one calling/texting

(he ignores it if it’s anyone else)

(except matthew)

when ronan really really starts missing adam he drops whatever he’s doing and just drives to whatever ivy league college adam ends up at to see him

he really likes that he doesn’t have a job or anything because he can just take off whenever the fuck he wants to go see adam

sometimes he only spends a night sometimes it’s an entire weekend

he just takes off and shows up at adam’s door, which used to confuse the hell out of him and also maybe upset him a little because it’s a waste of gas to come up for just one night (old habits die hard, ya know) 

but after a little while he doesn’t care anymore. he’s just really glad to see ronan

adam tells ronan literally everything that’s been going on

from the girl who fell asleep during a lecture, to whatever paper he’s currently writing, to whatever it was he had to eat that day

it’s all so day-to-day and simple and ronan eats that shit up 

when adam calls him to tell him about whatever professor said whatever thing in whatever class, he just sinks into those conversations

he wants to know every boring thing adam did that day 

adam has a framed picture of him and ronan sitting on his desk

the picture was taken the last weekend before ronan drove him up to move him in

the gangsey threw him a going away party at the barns 

at some point ronan and adam snuck away and blue found them a little while later sitting on the porch 

ronan had his hand looped around his waist, pulling him close, and adam’s head rested against his shoulder

the sun was setting in front of them which cast a glow all around them

blue took the picture, developed it, framed it, and gave it to adam the day he left. it was the first thing he unpacked in his dorm and now, every time he’s sitting at his desk getting all worked up and stressed, he looks at the picture and it makes him feel better 

ronan has the same picture and he keeps it on the fridge 

actually ronan has pictures of adam littered all over the house

propped up on mostly empty bookshelves, tucked away in mirrors, on his bedside table, on his dresser

none of them are framed so there are just loose pictures of adam around the house 

his favorite picture is of adam on the day of graduation

ronan didn’t go to graduation, but everyone went to the barns after to celebrate

adam was no longer wearing the graduation gown but he had the cap and he had his degree and blue insisted on taking a picture of the two of them

ronan doesn’t like getting his picture taken but it’s adam and it’s graduation so he complied

he is not looking at the camera

neither of them are

right before blue took the picture, ronan pointed to something out of the shot, which made adam start laughing 

he’s got a hand on ronan’s shoulder and is leaning into him, clearly about to say something and laughing very hard

ronan has an arm around adam’s waist and is not looking at whatever he was pointing to (it was gansey who was out of the shot and beginning to cry behind blue), but is instead looking at adam 

he is looking at adam like there is no one and nothing else to look at and he’s smiling that smile reserved only for adam 

blue gave him the picture the same day she gave adam the picture of them on the porch and, yes, she framed it

but ronan immediately took it out of the frame and hung it from the rear view mirror in his car 

anyways ronan and adam love each other and long distance, while hard, is no match for such a power couple 

#i got about halfway through this last night #when my friend came into my rooom #and if you were paying attention to my shit posts last night #you will know wy #anyways i stayed up until 6am and woke up at 10 so i am :)) deda #but this was fun so here ya go #pynch #the raven cycle #ask #anon

[swimmingwolf59]

Until I Turn to Dust

(A/N) I can't believe it took me until my last fic to include Declan and Matthew smh It's been so much fun writing for pynch week this year!!!! The prompts were fun and it was cool to see what everyone else's takes on them were as well~ THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING, COMMENTING, AND PROVIDING SUCH AMAZING SUPPORT IN GENERAL I CAN'T THANK YOU ALL ENOUGH <3 You gave me the motivation I needed to actually sort of stay on schedule xD;;

I really hope you enjoy the final fic, and thank you so much again!! :')

P.S. The Script song I used for the quote and the title of this chapter is very pynch in my opinion, please check it out!!

I fell for you and I never got up

I stay here forever ‘til I turn to dust

Just take every minute make it last for life

24/7 baby 3-6-5.

-“The Energy Never Dies” by The Script

Every moment of his waking life, and often his sleeping one too, Ronan feels like he has accidentally stumbled upon happiness.

He never thought he would meet someone like Gansey, who sticks with him even through all of Ronan’s worst hours, who was and always will be the friend that Ronan has needed more than anything. He never thought he would meet someone like Blue, who challenges him every day for being an asshole by also being an asshole, something he didn’t realize he loves as much as he does until she came into his life. He never thought he would start to get along with Declan, that he would actually maybe look forward to the times when all three Lynch brothers can be together.

And most of all, he never would’ve thought in a million years that he would meet someone like Adam Parrish. Someone who is so bright and sarcastic, someone who was given the shittiest hand in the entire world and through pure grit and determination got himself to someplace better. Someone who can and dares to fight back with Ronan but then can also pick him out of the dust and remains of his worst fears and give him something to hold onto. He’s been in love with Adam for two whole years, and not once during that entire time did he think he would ever get to kiss him. That Adam would kiss him back. That Adam goddamn Parrish would say yes when he asked him out.

But he did.

It hits Ronan especially hard in the early hours of the morning, when he’s watching Adam sleep peacefully beside him, that he is so incredibly lucky to have stumbled upon this kind of pure and relentless happiness. Just earlier, Adam had let Ronan leave kisses all over his body, especially his hands, and he’d blown Ronan so hard that minutes after he could still see nothing but stars and Adam Adam Adam. Ronan learned that Adam looks gorgeous with sweat sticking his bangs to his forehead and with that tiny little smile that Adam saves just for him. Ronan also learned that Adam is extremely ticklish on his ribcage, something that he plans to take full advantage of in the future.

He feels blessed every moment that Adam Parrish has let him be this close to him, for allowing him to love him and to be loved in return. Ronan is closer to Adam than anyone else has been before, he’s pretty sure, and it blows his mind.

It’s literally the best thing that’s ever happened to him.

When he wakes up that Sunday morning, Adam is practically sprawled on top of Ronan—not an unusual occurrence, considering that Adam’s mattress is the smallest thing in the entire universe—and Ronan has never felt so content and happy. There’s drool drying on his shoulder where Adam’s head lolls and one of his knobby knees is digging uncomfortably into Ronan’s thigh, but he never wants to move again. Adam smells like his pine-scented aftershave and oil and his warmth against Ronan is perfect enough to make him think he died and went to heaven.

Because this would be his heaven – getting to lie in bed with Adam for all of eternity, drawing his fingers gently through his incredibly silky hair and admiring his beautiful hands.

There is no place he would rather be so he refuses to get up, even though he knows Declan and Matthew will be here soon for church and that he actually needs to put a suit on. Instead he entertains himself by counting the freckles on Adam’s shoulder blades. He keeps losing track and having to start over again, but he’s at ninety-three when someone knocks concisely on the door, rousing Adam.

It’s obviously Declan, so Ronan stubbornly remains in bed as he calls out, “It’s open!”

Declan walks in, scans the room for a moment, and then swears and puts a hand over his eyes. “Jesus, you didn’t warn me you were indecent!”

“I’m always indecent,” Ronan snorts as a very sleepy Adam rolls off him and nearly onto the floor in an attempt to get up. “Relax, it’s not like we’re naked.”

A blessing that only occurred because Adam had predicted last night that they would not be able to wake up and get dressed before Ronan’s brothers appeared. Ronan loves how right Adam is about these things.

“What time is it?” Adam asks between a loud yawn that gives Ronan an amazing view of his teeth and bruised lips.

For this first time in his entire life, Ronan kind of wants to skip church.

“Nine – Ronan should’ve been ready ten minutes ago,” Declan says irritably, hands on his hips.

“We’re above the church, it’ll literally take us ten seconds to get down there,” Ronan argues as he pulls himself off of Adam’s mattress and pokes around the room in search of his dress pants. He knows he brought them to Adam’s place last night, but he lost track of them in the heat of the moment.

“And yet we’re still going to be late!” Declan snaps.  

Ronan ignores him and, finally finding his pants, starts to get dressed. Matthew, ever the ball of sunshine and never one to be deterred by his older brothers’ bickering, dashes into the apartment and nearly tackles Adam to the floor in what must be a spine-crushing hug. “Adam, my man! Are you joining us today?”

“No, I have some homework to catch up on,” Adam says as he awkwardly pats Matthew’s head. The idea of church has always been a little bit uncomfortable for Adam, Ronan knows, but he’s pretty sure he’s the only one who picks up on the uncertainty in his tone. “Say hi to Ms. Bertha for me, though.”

Ronan snorts loudly. “Ms. Bertha! Everything’s always about Ms. Bertha.”

He doesn’t actually have anything against the old lady; she’s been kind to Adam, like secretly leaving food on his doorstep or bringing him clothes she convinces him no one else will take, methods that Ronan greatly approves of. It’s just that every time he talks to her now she asks him things like: “How is Adam today?” or “Are you treating Adam well, Ronan? That boy deserves the world.” And while Ronan agrees, it’s fucking annoying; he hates having to talk about his feelings for Adam, especially to other people. It’s embarrassing.

Adam, knowing all of this, just smirks at him. His bedhead and the still sleepy look in his eyes makes Ronan want to pounce him. “You jealous, Lynch?”

“No, why? Should I be? Didn’t know you were into old hags, Parrish.”

Adam throws a pillow at him, making Ronan snicker. Declan scoffs loudly and taps the expensive watch on his wrist impatiently. “As riveting as this old married couple bickering is, we’re late, Ronan!”

“Christ, calm the fuck down will you?” Ronan snaps back, irritably tugging his tie on. “I’m ready, I’m ready – it only took me like two minutes!”

“And yet you can still never bother to be on time!” Declan rolls his eyes before grabbing Matthew and pulling him out the door. “Come on then!”

Ronan’s about to follow, complaining all the way of course, when Adam suddenly grabs his shoulder. “Wait.”

“Can’t get enough of me, Parrish?” Ronan teases, leaning into Adam and wrapping his arms around his waist.

Adam rolls his eyes, but doesn’t gift Ronan with the satisfaction of an answer. Instead, he just starts fixing his tie, his long fingers making deft work of the shimmery fabric. “You’ve been going to church every week of your life and you still can’t tie your tie properly.”

“It’s a fashion statement,” Ronan retorts, deciding to be annoying by attempting to kiss Adam while he straightens his tie.

“You’re a menace,” Adam says, making Ronan cackle. But suddenly Adam is pulling him forward by his tie, leaving a firm kiss on his lips. Ronan stares at him in wonder, his knees starting to wobble at the suggestive smirk on Adam’s face. “You’re much more attractive when your tie is on straight, though.”

“…Why do you always do this when I have to leave, Parrish?” Ronan groans, reaching up to tangle his fingers in Adam’s hair as he kisses him desperately.

“You only ever dress up when you’re going to church – what else am I supposed to do?” Adam teases, but Ronan is about two seconds from deciding to wear a tie for the rest of his life.

He’s about to say this out loud, but Declan’s annoying voice hollers up the stairs, “Ronan! We’re missing the service!”

Ronan growls and kisses Adam one more time before retreating reluctantly. “My suit will still be on afterwards, Parrish,” he says as he pounds down the stairs.

When he looks back up, Adam is leaning on the handrail, grinning at him. His hair is a mess and he’s wearing nothing but one of Ronan’s tanks and his boxers and for the millionth time Ronan is almost drawn back upstairs. “I look forward to it, Lynch.”

Declan pulls him away before he can say anything more, and Adam’s words replaying over and over again in his head is the only thing that keeps him from growling at him for it. Matthew sidles up beside him as they walk into the church, quietly sitting down in a pew near the back, and whispers, “You two are cute.”

Ronan blushes, but he can’t respond to that either because the service has already begun.

The three brothers fall into silence; going to church is the only time the three of them are still and quiet around each other instead of yelling and roughhousing. Ronan tries his best to pay attention to the sermon, but more often than not he finds his mind trailing back to Adam. He wonders what he’s doing right now, if his eyebrows are furrowed in that cute little expression of concentration he has, or what his hands look like working right now…

Every time, he has to forcibly derail his thoughts before they become too graphic for the inside of a church.

When the sermon is over and the space becomes open for confession, Ronan gets in line behind Declan, like he always does. As he’s waiting in line, he thinks about how different of a place he’s in now. He’s spent most of his life hating himself for who he is, either because of his dreams or because of his sexual orientation, and now he has a boyfriend, one that he loves openly and with his entire being. Declan, Matthew, and some nice old ladies (including Ms. Bertha) that are friends of the family know about Adam and don’t shun them for it. It’s amazing to him. He’s in love with another man and no one has struck him down yet.

But he still hasn’t said it out loud. He’s introduced Adam as his boyfriend to a select few people, but he’s never said those three little words, or told anyone else in words how much he loves Adam. Though part of it is because he’s extremely bad at talking about his feelings, he wonders now if part of him had always been afraid that something terrible would happen if he said it out loud. If it would somehow ruin his happiness instead of expanding it.

He thinks of Adam’s sleepy little smile and wonders if it’s time to stop being silent.

He makes up his mind right as Declan comes out of the confession box and pats him on the shoulder. The touch could mean anything, and probably means behave yourself, but Ronan likes to think of it as encouragement.

Ronan shuffles into the confession box and sits down. He can see nothing but the grated window and it makes it easier to pretend he’s alone, even though he can hear the minister breathing on the other end. He takes a deep breath, rubs his hands over his buzzed scalp. Father Arnold is always patient with him, more patient than Ronan thinks anyone in his entire life has ever been with him, and best of all doesn’t push him to talk. They’ve had many confessions where they just sit in silence, Ronan either struggling or disinterested in saying anything. As he takes his time finding his words, he knows that Father Arnold knows it’s him. He always seems to know, even though it’s supposed to be anonymous. To be fair though, Ronan is probably the only person who has sat here for years, fighting with himself to say out loud what he hadn’t even let himself think until recently.

His second secret. The one he’s kept so locked up that for a long time he’d even kept it from himself.

Except, it’s no longer a secret: he’s told himself, and maybe even more terrifying he’s showed Adam. He showed him his deepest darkest secret, and by showing Adam he’d also shown Declan, Gansey, Blue, Matthew, Henry, and those old ladies.

And now, for the first time in a long time, Ronan has something to say.

“Father, I have sinned,” Ronan eventually murmurs, though it still takes him a while to force the words out. He takes a deep breath and clenches his fists at his sides as he continues, “But it doesn’t feel like I’ve sinned.”

Father Arnold doesn’t even sound surprised as he says, “And what is it that you did?”

This part is even harder to admit. Ronan has never uttered it aloud, not even to Adam. He doesn’t know how to form the words in his mouth. He has kept this secret for so long that it’s hard to tell, even though he wants to.

“I kissed Adam Parrish,” he finally blurts out, and he feels free, elated, terrified. Something tight in his chest throbs and releases and suddenly he’s free falling, open and unrestricted but with absolutely no idea where he’s going to land. “You know, the guy who’s renting the room upstairs? I kissed him and asked him out and he said yes. And Father, it’s the best goddamn thing that has ever happened to me.”

Realizing belatedly that he shouldn’t have used that particular curse in confession, he mumbles, “Sorry.”

Father Arnold is silent for a long time, silent for so long that the wide open space inside Ronan starts to close up again and suddenly he’s purely afraid that he fucked up. That Father Arnold will break his code and go out and tell the bigots at the church and they’ll be shunned and mocked. Adam could lose his apartment and God Ronan hasn’t thought this through at all…

“Being in love is not a sin, Ronan,” Father Arnold finally says, and the use of his name almost surprises Ronan more than the actual words. “Love is compassion, and compassion is what makes this world our Lord has created great. Compassion is what makes connections, brings you fulfillment, and improves the lives of yourself and those around you. You hold so much compassion within you Ronan that I’m sure it must be hard for you contain it, but it is never a sin. You have found someone that means the world to you, and that is okay, even if he is another boy. You will help each other and grow together, and I sincerely believe that that is a good thing. The Lord is happy as long as you are happy.”

Ronan has no idea what to say to that, his heart is pounding so hard he isn’t sure he can say anything at all, but before he can figure it out Father Arnold continues, “Are you happy, Ronan?”

“Yes, Father,” Ronan replies immediately, his fingers loosening their tight grip on his pants. “Adam makes me so happy that I don’t know how to handle it sometimes.”

“Then you are where you are meant to be, my child,” Father Arnold says, and Ronan can hear the smile in his voice.

He swallows thickly. “Thank you, Father.”

And then he practically runs out of the confession box because he needs to move, to expel the sudden elated energy that explodes inside of him. He ignores Matthew’s surprised expression as he runs out of the church, feeling wild and hyper. He wants to laugh, he wants to cry, he wants to roll on the grass and set the world on fire because he feels so alive. Everything is going his way for once and he feels like he doesn’t have to hide who he is or be afraid.

He’s never felt so light and free in his entire life.

Declan is standing outside waiting for them when Ronan crashes out of the church like a crazy person, and he jumps a little as he looks up from his phone. “Ronan, what the hell—?”

But Ronan ignores him too and pounds up the steps back to Adam’s apartment, not even bothering to knock as he barges his way in. Adam is sitting exactly where he imagined he would be, huddled over his desk, his eyebrows furrowed as his brain works out what appears to be a complicated calculus problem.

He looks up as Ronan enters, not even surprised. The soft smile on his face makes Ronan’s heart soar even higher. “Hey, you. How did it go?”

Ronan doesn’t bother to reply, he doesn’t think he can express the flurry of emotions in his chest, so he just runs over and scoops Adam up in his arms, holding him as tightly as he can and swirling him around in a circle. Adam lets out a surprised yelp, looking frazzled as he grips onto Ronan for dear life. When Ronan sets him back down on the ground, he frowns and presses the back of his hand to Ronan’s forehead, like he’s worried he has a fever. “Are you feeling alright?”

And Ronan laughs, because really, what a question.

“I’ve never felt better in my goddamn life,” Ronan says, and he leans in to kiss Adam breathlessly, pressing their foreheads together. “I love you, Adam.”

It’s the first time he’s ever said it out loud, and it feels like a giant weight is lifted from his back. He feels like he could run a marathon, swim across an entire ocean, pull at least ten things out of his dreams at once. Seeing the startled look on Adam’s face, though, he hurries to add, “I don’t expect you to say it back or anything, I just…I just needed you to know.”

For a moment Adam just blinks at him, but then he’s smiling a shy smile and Ronan can’t help but lean in and kiss him again. When they part, Adam draws a finger down Ronan’s jaw and whispers, “I think that’s the first time anyone has ever said that to me.”

This piece of knowledge makes Ronan angry and sad and everything in between, but instead of indulging these emotions he just kisses Adam’s good ear and whispers back, “Then I’ll say it as often as you need to hear it. You deserve to hear it all the goddamn time, Adam.”

“Oh God, please don’t say it that often, I don’t think I can handle that,” Adam laughs shakily, and he’s blushing as Ronan presses another kiss to his lips. That’s fine – he won’t be able to say it that often either, if he’s being realistic. He’ll just throw it in when Adam needs the reminder.

Or when he’s least expecting it. That blush is doing wonders to Ronan’s heart.

“Hey, Matthew’s done – are you two lovebirds ready to go to lunch, or—?” Declan says, walking into the room right as Ronan had parted his lips so Adam could sneak his tongue into his mouth. “Jesus Christ!!”

“Declan, please, we’re above a church,” Adam says, and Ronan drops his head down onto his shoulder as he dissolves into laughter.

Declan opens his mouth and closes it again about three or four times before throwing his arms up into the air and stalking back out of the apartment. Ronan chuckles and hugs Adam’s waist, swaying gently as he kisses his neck. “You know, we could go for lunch, or we could do something else, taking full advantage of my suit…”

“Hm, I’m actually pretty hungry though,” Adam says and to Ronan’s utter dismay steps away from him and walks to his desk, stuffing his wallet and keys into his pockets and heading out the door. Ronan’s still gaping at him when he turns around to face him again, raising an eyebrow. “You coming?”

“Never mind, Parrish, I take it back!” he shouts, but he obviously doesn’t mean it as he runs to Adam, leaving one last kiss on his lips before they walk down to Declan’s Volvo, hand in hand.

 --

A couple of weeks later they’re at the Barns, lazing around in the faint afternoon sunlight that lingers on the living room couch. Ronan is lying on his front, shirtless, and Adam is huddled next to him, absentmindedly tracing his tattoo with his calloused fingers. They’d been talking about meaningless things before and now are perfectly content to sit in silence, just appreciating the other’s warmth and presence. It’s a rare moment when Adam is fully caught up on work and school and Ronan wants to take complete advantage of it.

“Hey, you know?” Adam says quietly after a while. Ronan turns his head to the side to stare at him questioningly. But Adam just shakes his head and laughs to himself, pulling a hand through his sweaty hair. Ronan watches the action with way too much attention and interest. “Shit, that was the stupidest way to start this.”

Ronan is even more confused than before. “Just spit it out, Parrish.”

“I love you,” Adam blurts; his direct gaze on Ronan when he says it nearly shatters him. “I mean it – I’ve never been happier than I am when I’m with you, Ronan.”

“…Adam,” Ronan chokes, and for a horrifying moment he’s worried he’s going to start crying. He never could’ve guessed how intensely happy hearing Adam say that to him would make him, and he’s thus unprepared to deal with it. It hits him like a tidal wave and warms his entire body, leaving him shaking, ecstatic, and so very alive.

He tackles Adam, pressing down onto him as he hugs him as tightly as he can at this awkward angle. Adam laughs and wraps one arm around Ronan’s shoulders while using the other hand to caress the back of his head, his fingers automatically rubbing through the fuzz on top of Ronan’s head. “Ronan…!”  

“I love you too,” Ronan gasps, high from the way Adam had said his first name as he nuzzles into Adam’s neck. “God, I love you so fucking much.”

Adam laughs again, cutely embarrassed like he is every other time Ronan says it, and it just makes him love him more. “Careful, God might strike you down for saying that.”  

But Ronan knows God is chill with it, and that just seems to make today that much brighter. 

#pynchweek17 #pynchweek #pynch #ronan lynch #adam parrish #declan lynch #matthew lynch #day 8 #free choice #first time they say I love you #confession #my writing

[ridleymocki]

Just Take a Hold of the Hand That Breaks the Fall

Written for Pynch Week 17 Day 2, prompt:  Musicals AU // Pirates AU // Superhero AU.

Summary:  They weren't even supposed to be at the damn factory. An unsanctioned mission goes awry and Ronan wakes up to realise that Adam's consciousness is somehow in his head. In his dream place, to be precise. But how he got there and what those freaky demon wizards were aiming for is all unclear. As the group struggles to deal with Adam being in a magic coma, and Ronan struggles to deal with the guy he secretly wants being in his most private space, something dark is waiting for its opportunity, and it's coming for them. The Institute never prepared them for this.

Notes: Originally I really wasn't vibing with the AU prompts, couldn't see what to do with it, but I started writing and got SUPER INTO THIS ONE and now it's gotten SO out of hand. This is unfortunately a WIP, but it will absolutely be updated as soon as I have time to work on it. Title is from 'Superman' by Lazlo Bane, because it's literally the most perfect song for this (it's has a superhero theme and mentions tarot cards, for god's sake).I hope you enjoy it and stay tuned for the next instalment! <3

also on ao3

It was an accident. They weren’t even supposed to be in the damn factory but as always Gansey had got it in his head that they could help. So they went, the six of them, following their fearless leader into another fucked up situation. Ronan hadn’t liked it at the time and he was furious afterwards.

 Gansey was full of moral principles and platitudes and even though Ronan would follow him to the ends of the earth, he was always going to begrudge reaching the end of the earth just because Gansey made stupid decisions.

 It happened too fast. They were scoping out the factory floor, irked by the archaic symbols painted on the walls, the lines of salt, the broiling pot of luminescent goo in the middle of the room and the next moment, they were under fire. Literal fire. As in balls of fire were being thrown at them as four cloaked figures materialised around them.

 Gansey told Blue to try and turn into one of them, use their power against them, and they were all shocked when she said she couldn’t. Something was stopping her.

 “This is wrong,” Noah said into Ronan’s ear as they ducked for cover.

 “No shit.”

“No,” he said. “There’s something we’re missing.” Ronan frowned at him, but Noah just grew more translucent in his uncertainty until Ronan couldn’t see him at all.

 Something small was flung onto the floor opposite them and in the blink of an eye the tiny bee had transformed back into Henry. “Okay,” he groaned and crawled over to them, “that’s literally never happened.”

 Across the room Ronan could see Adam crouched behind a machine, palms pressed flat to the ground and eyes closed in concentration. He was obviously trying to reach into the earth, to draw out some power so he could retaliate. Of all of them he was the one best suited to deal with these guys, magic versus magic. But his brow was furrowed and Ronan wondered if he was encountering the wrongness Noah felt.

 “Stop this! Stop what you’re doing!” Gansey shouted at the figures, coming out from behind the palette of boxes he’d been hiding behind and forcing as much command into his voice as possible. The force of his power seemed to shake the room, filling it with his will. But the figures didn’t respond to his will the way anyone else would have. That could only mean one thing. Despite the evidence of his eyes and ears Ronan peeked around the corner of the workbench to look at the figures and realised with startling clarity that they were dead. They had to be dead.

 But Gansey wasn’t growing wise to this, flummoxed that they ignored him. The figures had stopped reigning fire down upon them and began to form a circle around the pot. Or the cauldron, Ronan supposed. Voices like wind began to howl in the large room and it sent shivers down his spine. It took a moment for him to realise that they were, in fact, chanting.

 “It’s all wrong,” Noah said, voice small beside him though he couldn’t be seen.

 Ronan watched, vaguely horrified, as Gansey started walking closer to them, opening his mouth. Before he could do something reckless like piss them off, Ronan sprinted from his spot, around the edge of the room and half-tugged, half-tackled Gansey until they were both behind the palette of boxes again. They peered around the edge.

 At the centre of the circle the figures formed, the viscous liquid in the cauldron began to rise up, rolling and writhing in a short spout. Luminescent and bright bloody red. Parts around the edge that were in the air too long began to char and blacken before being sucked back into the melee. It looked powerful, grim, and unnatural. It was something you weren’t supposed to see, like when you shine a torch into your palm and you can see your veins lit up bright red from the other side. Ronan felt sick.

 “What the fuck is that thing,” he said.

 Gansey looked at him, eyes wide, and Ronan gave him a flat look because that was Gansey’s maybe we’re in over our heads after all look. Ronan could slap him.

 Before he got the chance, though, a scraping sound emanated in the room and Ronan saw Adam moving towards the cauldron and the figures around it, as though pulled from a string around his chest. His back was arched and his toes barely touched the ground, yet still he slid forward at the behest of some invisible force. His gritted teeth and straining arms told Ronan that this was none of his doing and instantly, with a sinking feeling, Ronan ran towards him, shouting. “No!”

 He collided with a warm body, frustrated that they stayed upright, and wound his arms around Adam’s waist, digging his heels into the factory floor, willing the movement to stop. “A little help!” He saw flashes of white light a little to the side and realised it was Noah, who was trying to get at the hooded figure before him but couldn’t pass the salt circle in which they stood, his fists pounding against the barrier in bright sparks of energy. He saw Henry virtually disappear and knew he’d be buzzing around somewhere, though god knows to what end. Gansey was studying the symbols that encircled the figures, listening to their strange language as they chanted over and over, eyes ablaze as he tried to work it out, to find a solution.

 Blue came out of the shadows and hit one figure over the head with a pair of bolt cutters. The figure did nothing. Did not sway or startle. It merely extended a hand and with a flick of the wrist Blue went flying into the opposite wall as though the figure had swatted a fly.

 “Blue!” Gansey began to move toward her.

 “Dick! Figure out how to stop them!” Ronan couldn’t stop he and Adam from moving, he struggled and scraped against the floor, but inch by inch they trailed forward. He saw tears run down Adam’s cheek and feared this might be killing him.

 Gansey refocused on his task.

 Up close, as they crossed the salt line, Ronan realised these bastards were huge, broad and easily seven foot tall. They were not people. Not even dead people, not really. Their robes were made of shadow as much as anything and when Ronan, dragged behind Adam, was brought into the circle, the temperature dropped so much he gasped.

 “I can’t read it!” Gansey shouted. “There are too many languages!”

 The red, glowing substance bubbled higher into a column, and no doubt it was commanded by whatever magic these figures were spinning. It rose like a cobra. Ronan struggled and felt his heart lurch into his throat. Gansey looked at them in horror.

 It was rising to meet Adam.

 Two things happened at once.

 First, Noah, such as he was, squeezed himself through the gap in the salt line left behind by Ronan’s feet and attacked the nearest figure. Noah wasn’t corporeal on his best day, but he managed to grab at the figure’s hood and drag it down. Underneath was a mass of black; millions of tiny, shiny black dots writhed and slip-slided over each other. Beetles. They scuttled away and regrouped to mimic the opening of a mouth but it was all of them talking. The four figures were a monstrous hive.

 But the reveal of their nature seemed to stun them and the millions of voices grew a little quieter as those from the figure Noah had revealed stopped their chanting. The column of red slime swayed and listed.

 Second, the cauldron that held said slime had no fire beneath it, apparently just meant to contain. So there was no danger to a tiny bee inspecting the three feet that held the ancient looking thing upright. At the exact moment the column  of liquid felt the loss of some of its chanted support, and the exact moment Adam and Ronan were but a foot away from the edge of the pot, Henry finally managed to remove the screw from one foot of the cauldron, throwing it on the floor beside its two brothers.

 Magic was maintaining the glowing liquid but it was not doing so for the cauldron, and the weight of it instantly made the detached foot slide away. The cauldron tipped, tipped, and fell.

 The humming chants of the figures – the beetles – rose to a shrill cry, utter outrage in every note as the red liquid lost its form, sloshing back into its well, and tipped along with the cauldron. Adam still couldn’t move away. Ronan could, but he wasn’t going to. They all watched it fall as if in slow motion, anticipating burns, or curses, or worse.

 Instead, the instant the red, writhing liquid touched the ground, heat surrounded them, Ronan’s vision exploded into whiteness, and he was gone.

 ……………………………………..

 When Ronan woke up, he knew he was in the mansion. The walls were white and indistinguishable from a hospital, but the ceiling was too high, the room too large, and through the windows at the far end he could see the heavy grey stone that made up the building’s façade. So they’d made it back. He knew that he was alive, the itch of the cannula in his hand and the throb of his heart assured him. He must have slept for a long time; his body felt disused and shaky.

 Oh, and he could feel Adam inside his head.

 ……………………………………..

 Apparently the entire factory had exploded, and when emergency teams got to the site, they could only stand, shocked, at seeing six unscathed teenagers lying unconscious in the middle of the ash and the rubble. Before they could do anything, sleek black vans showed up and took the group away. A medic had to rip Adam’s shirt because he couldn’t pry Ronan’s fingers from it.

 ……………………………………..

 Calla chewed them all out something chronic once they realised Ronan was awake. “This is why we have this program,” she said, icy cold and terrifying. “So that idiot teenagers don’t get themselves killed. What in fiery hell were you thinking?!”

 “To be fair, we didn’t die,” Blue tried, but shut up at Calla’s venomous look.

 “No, you just put your friend in a coma!” The group of them visibly flinched back at that, sending guilty looks over at where Adam lay, still and vacant, across the ward. Ronan stayed lying down, nursing the headache that had been buzzing since he woke.

 Maura pushed a frustrated breath out her nose, mouth pinched, and Ronan watched with some regret as Blue shrunk further into herself. “It may not even be a coma,” Maura said, “we’re not entirely sure what’s happened to Mr Parrish, but as you can imagine, it’s likely not good.”

 “There are worse things to be than dead,” Persephone chimed in quietly. She had been sitting on the far windowsill since they’d arrived, the sun making her hair into a halo in a way that contrasted sharply with her words. From the corner of his eye, Ronan saw Noah nod.

 “He’s in my head,” he said abruptly. Seven pairs of eyes were suddenly trained on him. “Adam,” Ronan said, “I don’t know how, but he’s in my head, I can feel him there.”

 “You mean you’ve got a psychic bond with him?” Gansey asked, perking up from where he’d been sitting small and guiltily to the side.

 “No,” Ronan snarled. “I mean he’s literally in my head. His mind, his consciousness, or whatever.” Maura and Calla edged a little closer to him, Persephone stayed where she was but studied him. “I can’t talk to him. I think he’ll be in my dream place.”

 The witches shared some alarmed but private looks among them, but Blue, the younger and less cautious version of the three of them, was outright shocked. “How?”

 “Fucked if I know,” he said quietly.

 They were silent a moment, the news weighing heavy and confusedly on everyone.

 “Worse things,” Persephone repeated, half to herself.

 “We need to discuss this with the board, maybe call in help,”  Maura said suddenly, and Calla and Persephone nodded at her. To the rest of them she said, “Under no circumstances are you to try and fix this by yourselves, understood? But Mr Lynch, if you notice any change in the presence in your mind, you are to notify us immediately.”

 “Mum–“ Blue started, but Maura threw her a discouraging look.

 “You and I will be having a separate conversation about this, Blue.” She sighed. “For now, just be with your friends.”

 And with that the three of them moved to exit the room. The Deans of the Institute, their wardens and guardians – They’re not witches, Ronan, shut up – usually left their wards feeling reassured or encouraged. But the mood was too sombre, the absence of one among them too obvious. All they felt was unsure.

 Persephone ducked quickly over to Adam’s bed and deposited something on his bedside table before joining her partners. When she moved away, Ronan saw that it was a flower from the garden, a length of morning glory ivy still winding around its stem. Ronan felt sick.

 “So a nature boy gets entangled with a snake,” Calla muttered as they left the room, annoyed, “how very biblical.”

 The words were still rattling in Ronan’s head when he growled at the others to leave him alone. Without a word, they did.

 ……………………………………..

 “I’m so sorry,” Henry said to him later, horrified and young, once Ronan was out of bed and they’d deemed it necessary to discuss this, “I’m so, so sorry, I thought it would stop them.”

 “You did what you could,” Gansey said.

 “Well it wasn’t enough,” Ronan turned to Gansey. “If it wasn’t for your fucking inferiority complex dragging us everywhere, this wouldn’t have happened!” The hurt look on Gansey’s face was gratifying. Ronan felt mean today.

 “Hey! You agreed to go into the factory, no one made you.” Blue got into his space, the bruise across her cheek swelled, and angry like herself.

 “It was a terrible idea,” Noah said, his skin milky white and his face sad. “They wanted us to go. It was a trap and we should have known.” Blue glared daggers at him, but couldn’t argue.

 “Look, I think we need to focus on helping Adam,” Gansey continued, diplomatic, “arguing isn’t going to do any good.”

 “Really?” Ronan sneered. “Because I already feel much better. And why the fuck should I believe you know what’s best for him?”

 “Because regardless of what you think I’m still the team leader! And our efforts are better spent constructively than mouthing off.”

 “He’s inside my head!” Ronan shouted. His rage coursed through his veins like fire, and he couldn’t stop it, wasn’t sure he wanted to. “You think your history books or your money are going to help? They fucking dropped him inside my forest and you think you can help?” Ronan grabbed Gansey by the collar and hauled him against the wall. “You think they didn’t get exactly what they wanted?!”

 From behind him, he heard a voice. It was Gansey’s, but not. As he looked at the Gansey in front of him the voice behind yelled, “Calm down!”

 Ronan felt the command and the will behind it shudder through his body as he dropped Gansey to the floor, all his limbs relaxing as the anger settled lower in him, subdued.

 When he turned, he saw Blue morph back from Gansey’s form to her own, and she looked at him apologetically. “I know you’re angry. But you’ll regret that later,” she said quietly.

 “Don’t ever pull that shit with me again, Sargent,” Ronan growled, and glanced at where Adam still slept. Or his body slept. They weren’t sure. Adam lay still on one of the beds, in this room made to mimic an actual hospital ward, pale and thin and awful.

 But the spark Ronan could feel in the back of his mind wasn’t as fragile as the boy looked. It was bright and alive, full of the will and power that made Adam the magician. But that spark should be in his body and not in Ronan’s fucked up mind.

 “He’s in there,” Noah said suddenly, looking at Ronan, and cocked his head to where Adam lay. “He’s in his body, but he’s also in you. In your dreams, at least. Point is, he’s not fading.” Noah had a thing about death. It came from being a dead thing. He could sense it on others, could sometimes even sense what was causing it. The EMTs that moonlighted at the Institute and weren’t irked by Noah’s presence sometimes let him tag along in their work. Staying invisible, he’d go to emergencies and whisper in their ear who was close to death or what was threatening them. Sometimes the height of Noah’s ability to reassure was to tell someone ‘life is still here’. Ronan was comforted by it, that Adam wasn’t totally separate from his body.

 “I tried commanding him back but it didn’t work,” Gansey said quietly, “I don’t think he can hear me.”

 “Doesn’t that break your word to him?” Ronan said. Gansey had promised Adam when they met that he’d never control him, never give him an order he couldn’t refuse. It was a point of tension in their friendship that Adam knew Gansey was always capable of it, anyway.

 “I hope that given the circumstances, he’d forgive me.”

 “I’d be hedging your bets on that one,” Blue said ruefully, and Gansey winced at her. For a guy who only wanted people to be themselves around him, to have the power to make them want whatever he wanted was a heavy burden.

 Ronan nodded slowly. “I guess I should go take a nap then.” He shook his head, so tired all of a sudden, and walked past them all, the anger beginning to bubble again. He didn’t glance back at them or Adam as he left the room.

 ……………………………………..

 The thing was, they were told not to pull shit like this. They’re teenagers, all of them. Some were eighteen already but it hardly mattered when they followed each other around like they did. “Under no circumstances are you to go on unapproved or unassigned missions,” Calla had said over and over in the years they’d been here. Everyone that came to the Institute wanted to play the big leagues, wanted to prove themselves. But the superheroes you see on TV have been at it for years, are in complete control of their abilities. It’s the reason you came here, so they’d teach you how to be ready for that. If you still had to abide by curfew and hand in homework on Monday, you just shouldn’t be fighting psychopaths and megalomaniacs and creatures of the night.

 It wasn’t entirely Gansey’s fault. It wasn’t Henry’s. They’d all gone along. But somewhere down the line they’d failed each other or the Institute had failed them, because no matter what the freaky bug people were doing in a warehouse at night, the six of them shouldn’t have been there.

 By the time Ronan finally fell asleep, staring at the white ceiling of his room and garish music blasting through his headphones, his rage had reached boiling point again. To slip into a dream was like slipping into a cooling bath. But it was one he usually enjoyed alone.

 ……………………………………..

 “You didn’t punch Gansey did you?” Adam said to him as soon as Ronan came to. It was night time in the forest and the first thing he saw was the brilliant galaxies above him between the latticed tree branches. When he hauled himself up and turned to face Adam – relief already washing through him – it took a moment to believe the figure before him wasn’t an imposter.

 Intellectually Ronan understood that Adam had magic, so in the way that all magic draws on a similar source, it made sense that Adam was somehow connected to the magical dream forest that Ronan had in his head. But the way the forest suited Adam was startling, like he belonged here. He wore only a ratty pair of jeans, toes digging into the grass. His skin, the expanse of his chest and arms, looked pearly white in the dream moonlight, and his eyes shone. If this was what Adam looked like without the constraints of his body – the Magician in his true form – then no one at the Institute understood him, at all.

 “You have leaves in your hair,” Ronan said, dumbly. Adam looked like something born in this forest. Lacking solidity or maybe just reality.

 “This place keeps putting them there,” he said with a grimace, and ran his fingers through his hair to dislodge them. He smiled. “I think it likes me.”

 Ronan heard a whisper rustle through the trees. Yes. Yours. Ours. He swallowed, hard.

 “That’s one way to put it.”

 They regarded each other for a moment, before Adam said, “So? Did you punch him?”

 Ronan snorted. “Nah, his guard dog stopped me. Got close, though.”

 “You know, anyone who wasn’t used to you and Blue’s relationship would think you hated her.”

 “She’s more fun when she’s mean, is all.”

 “You think that about everybody,” Adam laughed, and walked past Ronan to break through the trees. Ronan followed, and they came to the bank of a wide pool. The still water reflected the stars overhead almost perfectly, making it look as though if they only took a step, they’d fall right into the universe.

 They sat down, watching the water. Adam’s arm brushed against his and the warmth of it was reassuring; the life apparent before Ronan’s eyes wasn’t just him dreaming it. Adam was really here.

 “How are you being so calm about this?” He said quietly.

 Adam rolled his bottom lip between his teeth and thought. “The things I would worry about when I’m awake. They’re not here. Nothing’s hurting me here. I’m not hungry or cold. My magic doesn’t feel like it’s going to burst out of my chest and blow something up. The only thing is that I’d just started to feel lonely – then you showed up.” He knocked his shoulder against Ronan’s.

 “Your magic is easier here?” It was well known at the Institute that Adam didn’t have perfect control. His will was powerful but his magic was a force that sometimes acted without his permission, where it perceived a threat, or when he was overwhelmed. Ronan remembered the times the skin on Adam’s hands had cracked from trying to keep his magic inside his body, a body that did its best to contain it but was ill-suited to the job. That night, Ronan had dreamt up a cream that would heal the skin, and had given it to Adam the next day. They never spoke of it, but the wear on his body always went away sooner these days.

 “When I’m awake,” Adam said carefully, “my focus is always on keeping it inside. I’m always aware of the inside, outside difference. Where my body ends, where the world starts. Here, though?” Adam turned and smiled at him wondrously. “Magic is everywhere here. And I don’t exactly have my body, so… Where is my body, by the way?”

 “Lying in the medical wing, going to waste.”

 Adam grinned. “And you have better ideas for what it could be doing, Lynch?”

 “Shut up.” Shit. This Adam was still Adam, still capable of being a total dick. “It could be housing you, is what it could be doing,” Ronan growled.

 Adam frowned suddenly, looking at him, and straightened to face him. “Ronan. Are you uncomfortable with me being here?” He asked seriously.

 Ronan thought about it, had been thinking about it since he woke up that morning; thought about the one person from whom he had the most to hide, being inside his head. He lifted his gaze to Adam’s and held it, steady and sure. “No.”

 Adam looked surprised. “No?”

 “Don’t get me wrong, you’re an ass sometimes but…I trust you. I’d rather it was you.” And, he had a sneaking suspicion that whatever Adam discovered in this place, he probably already knew.

 It was clear from his face that Adam questioned that decision, but he didn’t protest. He was getting better at believing he deserved the good things people gave to him. “Good,” he said. They lapsed into silence and watched the water.

 “That’s the other reason I didn’t freak out, you know?” Adam said after several minutes, and Ronan raised an eyebrow at him. “I knew the second I opened my eyes I wasn’t just in some forest; I was in yours. Probably stupid but, I knew I was safe here, because of that.”

 Ronan didn’t dare reply, because it was true. He could feel the way this place loved Adam. Loved him because Ronan loved him. And he was reeling from the idea that in any capacity he could make someone like Adam Parrish feel safe.

 Instead, he turned away and lay back on the grass, eyes on the stars. After a moment, Adam joined him.

 They talked a little more, about their friends, about the fallout at the Institute because of what they’d done. They didn’t talk about how to fix this and get Adam back in his body. For now it was enough that he was okay. They were going over Latin verb conjugations for their next class, the forest rippling with pleasure at hearing its language, when Ronan began to doze off.

 “Good luck,” he heard Adam whisper.

 When he woke up again to his white walls – the transition to wakefulness easier than it had been for months – his head hurt, but he could swear he still felt a hand on his shoulder.

 ……………………………………..

 “Adam is in my dream forest. Cabeswater. I just slept and he was there, we had entire conversations and he appears as though he has his body, even if he doesn’t, like he’s physically in the forest.” After waking, Ronan had fed Chainsaw, listened to the worst music he owned, changed his clothes, and strode right into the Deans’ office. As much as he didn’t want to, he had to tell the witches about his dream.

 “Cabeswater is keeping him safe?” Persephone asked lightly, but Ronan caught the relief that was badly hidden on all their faces. The three women moved away from the large table that took up the centre of the room – cards strewn across it, bowls of water and handheld mirrors, an array of encouraging herbs – and came to stand before him. Even though the entirety of the inside of the building had been renovated to be modern, state of the art facilities, somehow the Deans had managed to make their large office space seem antiquated, with books lining the wall and assorted clashing textiles. Wards of the Institute that came to talk to the women wouldn’t be blamed for thinking they’d walked into an especially bohemian library.

 Ronan nodded.

 “Which is to say,” Calla said with a raised brow, “that you’re keeping him safe.”

 “You got a problem with me, miss?” Ronan snarled at her.

 “Calla,” Maura reprimanded, just as Calla opened her mouth to reply. She turned to Ronan “I suppose it makes a sort of sense. Magic seeks magic, after all.”

 “Magic can also screw with other things that are magic,” Calla said.

 “That seems to be the way this started, but I don’t think there’s much danger of that now. Is there something you need from us right now, Mr Lynch? A way we can help? Other than us figuring out how to fix this.”

 Ronan shook his head. “It’s fine. I think Adam’s treating it like a vacation.” He thought back to the easy smiles Adam had worn when they talked. He hadn’t looked pinched like he usually did, and Ronan couldn’t begrudge him enjoying his reprieve from the real world.

 “But you’re alright?” Calla asked. Ronan looked at her and she held his gaze, her dark eyes sincere. Of everyone at the Institute he and Calla were probably at each other’s throats the most. Blue had joked one day that it was because they were in a competition to see who could be more of an asshole, and in a way she was right. People that were similar in personality were always going to clash. But that they were similar in their sharp edges also meant that they were similar elsewhere. They cared. They cared a hell of a lot. On that they could agree, and there was no point lying to someone that understood you well because they were like you.

 There was also no point in lying because the three women in front of him were fucking psychic. Such was his luck.

 “I’m not entirely okay with the idea, no, but at least I know what’s going on,” he said truthfully. “And there’s not much you can do out here to help me in my dreams.”

 “And your nightmares?” Maura pressed.

 “They won’t hurt him,” he said with certainty. It was common knowledge around the Institute that Ronan had things in his head that no one wanted to see the light of day. But they had seen it all the same, more than once, before he got better at not accidentally pulling things into reality. He hadn’t seen any of the creatures for a while now, but they’d only ever wanted to hurt him, discriminately, a testament to his relationship with himself at the time. By contrast, Adam was untouchable. Inviolable. “He’s safe, there.”

 The three of them nodded in that eerie way they had, that came from souls being arranged very close together. “If you should need anything – if Adam needs anything – let us know,” Maura said. “But I must stress, again, do not go looking for the answer to this. You’re more in control of the situation than the others because it’s your own mind, but Ronan, don’t mess with this arrangement until we know how to do so safely. This is… extremely delicate.”

 “I take it none of you are sure how this is going to work out, then?” he said, raising an unimpressed brow. The Deans of the Institute were such because they were powerfully good at knowing what was needed, and what couldn’t be changed. Their combined talents in clairvoyance usually gave them the upper hand, and they were rarely surprised. The fact that none of them seemed to know what to do now was unnerving, and Ronan felt worry creep up his spine and into his throat.

 “Our scrying is coming out blank,” Persephone said, looking at him apologetically. “We believe that whatever force did this to the two of you is also blocking our sight.”

 “I’m afraid that this isn’t just the aftermath of something,” Maura said, “it’s more like a beginning.”

 “For fuck’s sake,” Ronan sighed, scraping a hand over his brow. The warm hum of Adam’s consciousness was still there at the back of his mind, but now it just made it harder to forget what they’d done to him. For once, no one said anything about his language. “I want to be kept in the loop. I want to be able to tell him what’s going on.”

 “When we know, you’ll know,” Calla said easily, the others nodding in agreement.

 He looked over Maura’s shoulder out the wide window, savouring the feeling of handing a problem onto someone else. Most of the time he wanted control over things, but this, this made him need to give it away. The bright spark in his mind weighed heavier and heavier on him. With a nod and a grimace, he left the room.

 In the hallway a minute later, a small hand grasped his arm, and he turned. Persephone had followed him out.

 “Don’t forget to say hello to him,” she said, the whimsical upturn to her mouth never failing.

 “From you? When I dream?” It seemed a bizarrely obvious thing to be reminded of.

 “No,” she said, and moved her hand down to grip his, kindly. “Don’t forget to visit him in the ward. His body. Don’t forget that he’s usually whole.”

 Ronan’s body relaxed under her grip, feeling the comfort of a private understanding form between them. “That’s why you left the flower,” he said quietly.

 She nodded, the movement rippling down her white hair. “He’s not just in your head. He’s in two places at once. When he remembers that, I’m sure he’d like to know you never forgot.”

 Before he could respond, Persephone turned and moved down the hall to return to the office, her gait floaty and unreal as always. Ronan stood there longer, deep in thought.

 ……………………………………..

 Adam was one of the ones at the Institute whose power toed the delicate line between gift and curse. His powers manifested out of anger and self-preservation, out of surviving a home life that he rarely spoke about. They were ancient, too. Some powers were modern, only possible because of how industry or technology had developed. Some were regular, comic book material. Some, though, reminded people that humanity was a temporary arrangement. Adam, particularly, was connected to the earth and the constant feedback loop of time itself, could manipulate reality by asking the universe to do things for him, by building a relationship with something incomprehensibly large and primal. In short, it was magic, the kind that people were burned for, once.

 A lot of powers were like party tricks, people smiled and were entertained. Adam’s magic made the room fall silent.

 His power scared people because it was a great rumbling thing under their feet, or the electric smell in the air before rain. It was the suggestion of something enormous and all-consuming. But Adam himself was a wonder all his own. He wanted people to like him and revere him as often as he wanted to not be seen at all. He was brilliant, dedicated, and carried himself like he’d stuck his chin out at the world on the day he was born and he was still waiting for the punch.

 Most of the students at the Institute had noticed him during the lunch time that Clary accidentally blew a corner of the roof out from the building. The rubble of brick and tile had fallen directly over where Adam was standing in the yard, but instead of crushing him, it had arced over him and sailed down like rain off the edge of an umbrella, to land in a perfect circle all around his feet. It hadn’t stirred a single hair, but it was the casual look Adam cast to the rubble and the way he calmly walked back inside that had people parting for him in the hallways for days after.

 Ronan had noticed him weeks before in their first class together. A blonde boy who didn’t meet anyone’s eyes had laid out his math textbook at the top of his table, and when he realised that he couldn’t lay it flat without creasing the spine, propped one side up with other books. But it meant he had to hold the pages against the raised side, or they’d slip and fall, and Ronan spent the majority of that class watching Adam’s index finger tap against the edge of the pages, watching his thumb glance back and forth over the page as he held the book open for the duration of the class. Noticing that action had made Ronan feel like he’d stumbled upon one of Adam’s secrets, and he couldn’t look away. The next day, Gansey showed up to their lunch spot with Adam sheepishly in tow, and Ronan had been done in.

 Adam fit in naturally with their group; they were all outsiders, even among the weird and unusual cohort at the Institute. When it got to their final year and one of their classes became the ‘group missions’ the Institute organised to help get potential heroes ready for future team work, it made sense that the faculty staff put the six of them together, Gansey at the helm. Gansey was rather like their leader, anyway, their love for him akin to a knight’s loyalty, and they worked well together on the small reconnaissance jobs and clean-up missions the Institute assigned them. But their group had haphazardly fallen together out of mutual exasperation, humour, and the feeling that there was something deeply suspicious about following the rules. A night like the one at the factory, the one that had started this mess, was inevitable.

 Ronan wondered how long it would take him to miss seeing Adam in the real world. Not long, he thought.

 ……………………………………..

 Ronan sat on one of the stone benches in the gardens, letting the chill of the breeze ground him as it whistled through his t-shirt and raised the hairs on his arms. The Institute had adopted all kinds of new age and pop psychology methods of helping its students find control. The gardens were a place of reflection, the pebble labyrinth in the middle was used as a mindfulness exercise, though whenever anyone walked it they just looked to Ronan like zombies. The lawns that stretched between the rows of flowers were used for Yoga and Tai Chi. Anything to help keep the hormone-fuelled and emotion-high pupils from accidentally blowing something up.

 Ronan rarely used the gardens. A lot of his training happened in the gym in the west wing, a string of helpless punching bags serving to work out his aggression and leave his mind clear. The exercise made him feel strong and secure and helped with the insomnia. Turns out that when your dreams could kill you, your subconscious is wary about sleeping at all.

 But he didn’t have much anger to work out, right now. Adam had been in his head for two days and Ronan had only slept once in that time. He was tired. He was feeling something close to grief for their situation. He wanted to sleep, but he didn’t know what to tell Adam when he got there.

 “Hey,” Blue said from behind him, and he didn’t turn as she came to sit beside him on the bench. Ronan eyed the jacket she was wearing, the body of it a regular denim, but one arm was the red knitted sleeve of an old jumper while the other was a kind of fancy metallic tapestry. Blue’s creations were weird but so was she and they oddly worked for her, though Ronan would never say it. She looked out over the flowers and pulled away a bit of hair that the breeze dislodged from the bright pink clip holding it back. “Mum says you spoke to him,” she said.

 Ronan nodded. “I guess I should’ve told you lot about that.”

 Blue shrugged, unaffected, but she kept her gaze carefully away from him. “Maybe. It’s your head. You can do what you want about it.”

 “Very diplomatic of you, Sargent.”

 “Not really,” she finally turned her head, meeting his eyes. “It’s not just Adam that’s caught up in this. You are, too. I know that, and you don’t have to tell us shit if you don’t want to.”

 Ronan almost smiled at her. Every now and again he was reminded why they were friends. “How’re the others?”

 “Well,” she said, sucking in a breath, “Noah made Adam a get well card and then got upset when the nurses cleaned a truly disgusting amount of glitter off of the table by his bed–“ Ronan huffed a laugh at that “–Henry feels guilty as hell and keeps saying he’s going to move to Reykjavik where he intends to live his life as a bee forever. Gansey’s been trying to map out the writing that was all over the factory so he can translate it and figure out what happened. He’s not talking to me.” This last part was said with a note of hurt that Blue tried to hide, but Ronan caught it anyway.

 “Don’t take it too hard. You’re just distracting.” Blue looked at him with a raised brow and Ronan scoffed. “You ‘make him quiet’, or whatever. He needs his mind to be going a hundred miles an hour for him to work and you don’t help.”

 She nodded, but grumbled, “Still, he could throw me a damn bone so I know he’s okay.”

 “If he’s busy, he’s fine,” Ronan said with certainty. They lapsed into silence, watching the shadows of the clouds pass over the lawns. Ronan felt his eyes grow heavy and jolted back to wakefulness with Blue looking at him askance.

 “Why won’t you sleep? Won’t you see him if you do?” She wrapped her arms tighter around herself and pinned him with a frown.

 “That’s the damn problem. What the fuck do I say to him? We’re just supposed to hang out like normal and pretend like none of this is happening?”

 “If that’s what he wants. What you want.”

 Ronan grimaced. “All I can do in there is keep him company. You know that’s not exactly my specialty.”

 “I wouldn’t be so sure,” Blue said with a small laugh, “Adam always seems pretty pleased with your company. You two are weird but it’s a good weird, when you’re together… Worse comes to worse you can always just make out with him.”

 Ronan spun his head to look at her, eyes wide, shocked. He couldn’t decide between fear and anger. “What the fuck, Sargent.” Blue was looking at him with a private, teasing smile, a spark in her eyes that hadn’t been there when she’d sat down.

 “I’m just saying, maybe there’s something in the fact that it’s you and him, going through this.” She nudged him with her elbow and laughed when he lightly punched her arm. Why were they friends, again? Ronan was struggling to remember.

 “You’re a shithead sometimes, you know that?” he groused.

 Her grin only widened.

 “Go talk to your boy,” Blue said after a moment, giving him a soft but imploring look. “I promise you, even if you don’t say a damn thing, he’ll be glad to see you.” She bumped their shoulders together and then stood, walking back to the mansion and leaving Ronan with his thoughts.

 The need to not disappoint was strong and unkind to him. It sat wrong in his chest, Ronan being the one who so consistently didn’t give a damn what people thought. But he felt the weight of the time he’d already wasted lie heavily on his shoulders, causing them to droop along with his eyelids. If he kept Adam waiting any longer that would be more disappointing than him showing up.

 He rose and started back towards the house.

 He needed to dream.

 ……………………………………..

#pynchweek #pynchweek17 #the raven cycle #pynch #fic #my fic

[atlas-evolves]

it's the book anon, lol. i'm too shy to come off anon, but i'm glad you appreciate my messages! i'll message you more, then! :) why don't you do everyone in trc for that ask thing?

awwww!!!!!!!!!!! thats okay, love!!!! and yeah, feel free to do this anytime, even if it’s not about books!!!! ily!!!

Blue Sargent

 Why I like them: she’s a badass female character that doesn’t take any boy’s bullshit. also, she works really hard to achieve her dreams and she’s really resilient. also her fashion sense? amazing. i aspire to be her, tbh. also she’s short like me lol

Why I don’t: okay, it’s not even something i don’t like about her, because i sorta do? but it’s kinda off-putting how cliché her character is? like she’s the only one in her family that isn’t a psychic, but she’s a ~mirror~. i love cliché things tho….. so it’s conflicting?

·         Favorite line: “I just want to pretend. I want to pretend I could.” / “It should be so.” / Every fight she had with Adam, tbh.

·         OTP: bluesy, duh.

·         Brotp: ronan/blue….idk what the ship name is but their friendship is the reason i breathe tbh.

·         Head Canon: idk…. i like her canon enough lmao like i don’t think i have any?

·         Unpopular opinion: probably the thing i wrote above lmao

·         A wish: that she lives a long, happy life and goes to costa rica and fulfills all of her dreams

·         An oh-god-please-dont-ever-happen: she changes anything about her ever

·         5 words to best describe them: feminist, aesthetic, hardworking, funny, badass

·         My nickname for them: i don’t have one

Richard “Dick” Campbell Gansey III

·         Why I like them: he is the greatest friend ever? he cares so much about his friends and he’s just so…. so good to them. he’s also so smart and so driven to do the things he wants to do and i admire him so much for that. also he can be That Bitch when he needs to be and i live for it. all his fucking quirks it’s beautiful.  i relate to his anxious ass lmao his fashion sense kills me too.

·         Why I don’t: the! motherfucking! will-he-die-shit! i haven’t finished the raven king and i’m lowkey pulling my hair out every time i read a scene with him in it.

·         Favorite line: “I believe I’m having a panic attack.” / “I like you an awful lot, Blue Sargent.” / The whole duck scene / “Crushed and broken. Just the way women like ‘em.” / “Safe as life.”

·         OTP: bluesey

·         Brotp: god……………………………………. the trio, tbh. i live for their friendship. don’t make me choose between them.

·         Head Canon: i have this very specific head canon for how his voice sounds but idk how to describe it

·         Unpopular opinion: idk?

·         A wish: that he lives happily,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, please………………

·         An oh-god-please-dont-ever-happen: having him die,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

·         5 words to best describe them: driven, anxious, king, leader, fighter

·         My nickname for them: none?

Ronan Lynch

·         Why I like them: where do i start………………………………. god. first of all how much he loves his family and his friends. like he would literally die for them and holy fuck he’s so fucking sweet. like he masks it with this harsh exterior but like??? he gave adam lotion, he paid his rent. he goes to church every sunday to see his brother. he wrote “remembered” on noah’s car over “murdered” i cried tbh. he didn’t kill kavinsky the first time he saw him?  he dreamt up a fucking baby raven, named it chainsaw, and raised that thing. fucking angel. but he’s also a huge asshole? also how fucking Dramatic he is, because same. i just…… really relate to this asshole so much.

·         Why I don’t: okay…… so when he dreamt that night and almost died….. he let gansey and everyone let him thing that he killed himself…….. and then liked joked about it………. like i get his reasoning and like i totally understand it all, but as someone whose struggled with suicide and shit…. it just wasn’t cool to read that.

·         Favorite line: everything he says is perfect tbh but…. “You’re already dead!” / “Thanks Parrish, I like your face, too.” / “It makes you look like a loser.” / “There was never a you and me.” / “Jesus Mary Fuck!” / “You’re just jealous because you didn’t find one, too.” / “I’m being perfectly fucking civil.” / “Don’t fucking swear.” / “Maybe I dreamt you.” / “Gansey’s partying with his mother. And Noah’s fucking dead. But Parrish is here.”

·         OTP: pynch…………..rovinsky (kill me tbh but like….. i ship it)

·         Brotp: gansey/ronan, and blue/ronan, i live for their friendships tbh also!!! noah/ronan, i think that’s my fave

·         Head Canon: i have this head canon (that’s basically canon) but if any of his friends, even if they’re not adam, need something, he’ll dream it for them and hide it somewhere they’ll find it. also this is also canon but when he moves to the barns he dreams a shit ton of animals and will text pictures of them to adam gansey and blue all the time and that he makes his animals a meme and everyone loves it. also trans ronan is my fucking shit

·         Unpopular opinion: tbh…. idk

·         A wish: he lives a long, happy life as a farmer with his beautiful husband and adoptive daughter i’m waiting for the dreamer trilogy to kill me

·         An oh-god-please-dont-ever-happen: pls….. don’t hurt my son or his friends……… keep everyone safe.

·         5 words to best describe them: asshole, dramatic, caring, strong, honest

·         My nickname for them: nothing, yo

Adam Parrish

·         Why I like them: where the fuck do i even………. ok so like adam is so fucking strong, okay? he stayed at an abusive household, didn’t accept charity, and stuck to his principles. that shit is so fucking hard. and when it came down to it, he stuck up for himself, and got his father in trouble, and accepted his friends help, which in some ways is harder. and he’s so driven, working multiple jobs to pay for food and school and rent, going to a private school school and getting A’s because he knows that he has to work hard to achieve what he wants. and he’s intuitive. he knows that ronans crushing on him, he figured out that gansey was destined to die, and he’s just….. so smart. And he’s!!!! bisexual. love that representation.

·         Why I don’t: okay…. so like, i understand sticking to your principles, but……. there’s a time where it’s totally acceptable to not. and when you’re fucking able to leave an abusive household, that’s a pretty good fucking reason. Granted, he did eventually, but he could’ve don’t it a lot sooner. he’s just a little shortsighted, i guess? Ironic, lmao. also, his callouts (like with blue, when telling ronan he knew he paid the rent, etc.) is appreciated, because he isn’t taking bullshit, he could… handle them better.

·         Favorite line: “That’s this biggest lie you’ve ever told.” (GET REKT) /  all his exchanges with ronan tbh / “I’d like to press charges.” / “Nobody knows what [enter long word here] means, Gansey.” / all his callouts with blue

·         OTP: pynch

·         Brotp: gansey/adam

·         Head Canon: I have very specific headcanons for him but like………. idk it’s too long

·         Unpopular opinion: binch idk

·         A wish: he lives a happy, long life with his famer boyfriend and adoptive daughter.

·         An oh-god-please-dont-ever-happen: just let my son be happy, alright? Happy and safe

·         5 words to best describe them: a mess, motivated, sad, intuitive, angry

·         My nickname for them: idk??

Noah Czerny

·         Why I like them: He’s literally so cute and sweet??? But also??? kinda terrifying. A+

·         Why I don’t: Because I’m halfway through trk and idk whats happening with him

·         Favorite line: “He threw me out the window!” / “Glitter! Whoops!” / “I’ve been dead for seven years.” / “I’ve told you I was dead. I’m dead.” / all his interactions with blue rip

·         OTP: god…. i don’t ship him romantically with anyone???

·         Brotp: Ronan/Noah // Blue/ Noah

·         Head Canon: like with everyone they’re too specific rip

·         Unpopular opinion: That he’s Good? idk

·         A wish: that he does whatever the hell he wants

·         An oh-god-please-dont-ever-happen: he passes on? does he? Don’t tell me

·         5 words to best describe them: cute, scary, eccentric, gullible, creative

·         My nickname for them: none

 Joseph Kavinsky

·         Why I like them: i just love him, alright? he’s garbage, i know. but like……… you can tell he’s been through a lot in life, and who wouldn’t be fucked up after their dad tried to murder them? and he’s very… gung-ho about everything i love it. and how blunt he is? live for it.

·         Why I don’t: he could…. Not use homophobic slurs. Lmao dude, ur gay af, u can stop.

·         Favorite line: “It’s either with me or against me.” / tbh all his shots at gansey/ronan being together / that exchange with ronan when he was talking about his past

·         OTP: god………………………… lavinsky…………….. shoot me i know. also him and proko.

·         Brotp: him and proko…. And lavinsky tbh.

·         Head Canon: i have a lot riperoni

·         Unpopular opinion: he’s a Good character. Maybe not a good person, but…..

·         A wish: him not being dead would be pretty great.

·         An oh-god-please-dont-ever-happen: the worst has already happened so wtf else could tear me down? (this is not an invitation………..)

·         5 words to best describe them: gay, blunt, asshole, sad, jealous

·         My nickname for them: none

 Henry Cheng

·         Why I like them: Because he’s so nice to everyone? Like he helps Blue at school when they fake that fight. He offered to fly places with her. And all his interactions with Gansey? A+

·         Why I don’t: I literally don’t know if I trust him or not? Like I’m sure I can but that thing with the robot bee? Rude.

·         Favorite line: Honestly…. Every line he says is iconic. / “Life is a show.” / the interaction with gansey in blue lily, lily blue / the interaction with gansey in the Aglionby hidey hole

·         OTP: i don’t ship him romantically with anyone rip

·         Brotp: him and gansey also him and blue tbh

·         Head Canon: don’t have any tbh

·         Unpopular opinion: Idk

·         A wish: that he’s happy and stops being fucking…………. mysterious.

·         An oh-god-please-dont-ever-happen: that he fucks everyone over? (please don’t tell me if he does or doesn’t but like………… pls henry)

·         5 words to best describe them: helpful, funny, charitable, dramatic, eccentric

·         My nickname for them: none

#ya got mail #book anon #series: the raven cycle #this is really long lmao but ily <3