Witches Around The Globe → New Orleans The Witches Of New Orleans Are Fiery, Carefree Creatures. They

monica tomas @ wilhelmina

Imagine this: Ronan Lynch kisses with his eyes wide open because otherwise he is afraid he might be dreaming

It’s because they’re in his bed at Monmouth and he’s had this exact dream so many times. 

At the Barns it’s different. At St. Agnes it’s different. Hell, even naps in Cabeswater are different. Those are places he inhabits with wakefulness and awareness. The awareness that comes from being amplified by a place and feeling too big for your skin. 

But here he simply is. Here he is not a king or a god or a worshiper. Here he is a boy who dances with sleep, sometimes leading and sometimes following. Who knows the cracks on his ceiling like he knows the back roads of Henrietta. Who sometimes dreams of tangled sheets and tingling lips and the rush of blood to every point of contact. Who wakes up alone. 

Who just this evening had tangled sheets and tingling lips and the rush of blood to every point of contact and then passed into dreaming alone. Who woke up just now with sleep bleary eyes and a glow-in-the-dark clock (not a dream, a gag gift from Gansey) telling him that it’s just after 3:30 AM and Adam Parrish is still next to him. 

Here, amidst his haphazard collection of impossible things, an impossible boy. All those dreams and he had never once dared to hope…

But it has to be real, doesn’t it? That’s what waking up means, bringing yourself through to fruition, reborn every day with weight and want and need and. Being. Knowing. 

He knows. He thinks he knows. He traces his finger down the slope of Adam’s shoulder where the shine of pale skin in the light of the streetlamp bleeds into the shine of pale sheets. Dreams bleeding into reality. 

Hope is a form of dreaming, right?

Adam stirs and Ronan pulls his hand away. He doesn’t mean to wake him, would never mean to take him from sleep any more than he would mean to take him from anything else Adam finds important. 

Adam wakes anyway. He rolls onto his side so that he’s facing Ronan and looks at him with heavy lids. He yawns and stretches and settles again and reaches out to run his hand gently over Ronan’s head. The pleasant tug of his fingers against Ronan’s short short hairs is so satisfying. Adam’s hand comes to a rest against his cheek and Ronan tilts his head into it, body heavy with sleep but still drawn to Adam’s touch like Adam’s gravity and the earth’s gravity have equal weight. 

They don’t. The tug of Adam is so much stronger. 

“You’re awake,” Adam says, voice low. 

Ronan hums his reply.

“God,” Adam says. He takes a deep breath and then exhales, long and slow. “God, god.” And the word sounds different every time. 

God, the dark suits you.

God, I never knew there was touch like this.  

God, our bodies are a riot in the quiet night. 

Ronan agrees, but words are insufficient, so he kisses Adam instead. Because he wants to. Because he wants to prove that they’re real, that this moment is made of flesh and blood. 

Adam closes his eyes, already halfway back to sleep, but Ronan keeps his open and clings to this. 

Up close Adam’s freckles blur into one another. His eyelids twitch with the restless movement of his eyes beneath them. Ronan slides his hand around Adam’s lower back and pulls him closer. Adam’s eyelashes flutter, then still. They fan out large against the gentle slope of his cheek. 

He of impossible being. He of passionate boyhood. He of crackling magic straining against the frame of one of the people Ronan loves the most in the world. He, he, he. 

It was always going to be a he, Ronan knows now, but he feels lucky that it’s this he, that it’s him. That Adam wants him back. That he’s willing to tangle himself up in Ronan’s sheets and Ronan’s limbs. That he’ll give parts of himself to Ronan, parts he’d previously been holding so tightly.

So Ronan keeps his eyes open, watches for the threshold between asleep and awake, and makes sure to keep his promise to find Adam on either side of the divide. 

things that sound like fake spoilers for trk but are actually real

ronan and adam adopt a child

maura sargent at one point in time banged a tree

ronan dreamt up a deer fursona of adam

a set of triplets act like they are one person

someone says the words “eyeball chapstick”

helen asks gansey if he’s sleeping with ronan and/or adam

noah founded a long-lasting school tradition

blue sargent has an enjoyable time at an aglionby party

gansey gets pissed off because ronan keeps calling him dad

the gray man leans on the fourth wall to say that adam’s the male lead

gansey tucks blue into his overcoat

PUT A HEX ON YOU | a mix for modern witches.

listen / download

“where the devil can’t succeed, he’ll send a woman.” -ukranian proverb

blue: i made this friendship bracelet for you.

ronan: you know, i’m not really a jewelry person.

blue: you don’t have to wear it.

ronan: no, i’m gonna wear it forever. back off.

“I think being with you guys is good for me.”

Adam away at college studying at his apartment with friends or something when his punk rock boyfriend shows up in biker boots (I imagine Ronan getting a motorcycle while Adam’s away with the bmw) and a leather jacket with a tattoo peaking out around his neck. and he plops down with the group like “‘sup nerds” and they get chatting and someone asks him where he goes to school and he’s like, “no, I’m a farmer” and they all think it’s a joke and he lets them think it’s a joke until the night wears on and at some point he’s showing everyone photos of the new baby goats he adopted and there’s a close up of the scary-looking ugly one that Opal picked out (she gave it a mohawk and named it Kerah) and it turns out he brought Adam a jar of preserves because he grew too many strawberries and later he shows off the bitchin’ scar he got on his elbow while building a new chicken coop. and everyone’s just like where the hell did you find this guy

ok so i made the mistake of standing on the beach in the dark and listen…….. listen. there is nothing that cares about you less than the ocean in the dead of night. it is tangible. you can’t fuckin see a thing. there is no horizon. it’s a ceaseless void and she cares for no one and loves nothing. you have to respect her bcs she clearly has no fuckin love for you and if she wanted she could take you and NO ONE WOULD KNOW

“You each get your own private room.”

You fools. You think this will stop me, a fanfic writer, from writing those OTP moments? The gay is only beginning, my friends.

Please consider:

- “I had to jump three balconies and crawl up two flights to see you”

- “I’m stuck in the stairwell to your room because there’s another couple making out and they’ll spot me”

- “our rooms are right next to each other but we still text all the time”

- “you live down the hall from me and it’s only now that I’m realizing that you have the cutest pajamas ever”

- “you play shitty music at 3 in the morning and I’m not afraid to kill you”

- “you’ve been reading those notes out loud for the past four hours and I’m just listening in because I’m learning more from you than I did the entire two weeks of lessons”

- “dude you’ve been playing sad music for the past three days are you okay”

- “I’m the stress baker and you’re the stress eater and we’re always stressed so we end up become best friends”

- “I tried to do laundry for the first time ever and it looked easy but now there’s soap everywhere and all my white clothes are pink will you stop laughing and help me please”

- “we’re study partners before we moved into the dorms so we don’t change anything but we do find out that everyone else thinks we’re dating so they end up leaving us alone to study how convenient”

- “someone keeps stealing my favorite socks and when I find out who I’m going to strangle them with their shoelaces”

- “someone through the gaudiest pair of shoes up on the roof who in their right mind would wear those - oh they’re YOUR shoes?”

- “I ran out of hygiene supplies so I’m borrowing yours but I keep forgetting to buy more so we always share but I end up liking you a lot so I always say I ‘forgot to buy more’ and I think you’ve caught on but you’re not saying anything”

- “I have twelve tons of homework I kept putting off but you’ve had yours done for weeks but you won’t let me copy so I have to sneak into your room for the answers and wow you really love weird socks”

- “you keep burning candles and the smell keeps drifting over to me and I’d usually be fine with that but you have a terrible taste in candles”

Guys this is our chance for every single “dorm room shenanigans” thing EVER