#trc wip

[adamprrishcycle]

Ronan just wants to be called baby, a series

pynch wip babyyyy

[harlotsforcinnamon]

Yes the rumors are true, I’m bringing back 2013 tumblr fandom trends

I’m talkin flower crowns, edits of characters with fault in our stars quotes and snapchat filters, going insane in the tags, inbox fanfic, fanart for fanfiction, and, of course, boys in lingerie

Yeehaw hallelujah forever and ever amen

[dauntless-deer]

wip wednesday 🕯️ (except it's friday)

i was tagged by the lovely @underthedancingwillow tysm :)

this is adam having a nightmare (tw for mild violence and a little blood and all that his relationship with his father in canon entails)

Adam, come out. I just want to talk. A door slammed somewhere. His father voice rose, but it came muffled, like Adam was underwater.  The bathroom floor was slick beneath his knees, his palms sliding in the thin red sheen spreading over the tile. He scrubbed harder, rag twisting in his hands, but no matter how much he wiped, the blood stains wouldn’t come out. Something hurt, but he didn’t know where.  The tiles beneath his fingers began to crack. At first, hairline fractures, spiderwebbing pale and delicate. Then wider. A low sound opened in the earth beneath him, something alive and slow, until vines pushed through, thick and wet with sap, curling over his wrists and snaking around his knuckles. Leaves the color of deep bruise spread like opening palms. He heard the click before he saw the gun. His father stood in the doorway, pale grin, barrel lifting. You made this ugly. Adam tried to stand but the vines hooked around his ankles, pulled him backward until his spine hit tile, hard. His father’s hand tightened on the grip, finger tensing. And then the vines took him. They surged up the doorframe, split it in two, swallowed the gun first, then his father’s arm, his chest, his face. He made no sound at all, only the tearing groan of wood and the hush of leaves, until the bathroom was gone and the world went black. Adam woke screaming. The car bucked faintly beneath him. His throat burned, damp sweat cooling on his neck. Outside, fields blurred, long stripes of green and yellow under the knife-bright sun. He dragged air in through his teeth, chest heaving. From the driver’s seat, Ronan gave him a single look.  “Declan does that too,” he said. 

tagging everyone who wants to join because i think the people i normally tag has already been tagged, but also please feel free to post your wip and tag me i love to read you!!!

[lizpaige]

vexed to nightmare

working on chapter 3, have a snippet

“You have a collect call from,” the operator’s robotic voice crackled through the introduction and abruptly paused. A different, human, male voice continued.

“Ronan Lynch.”

Adam nearly dropped his phone.

[uncannyparrish]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

chapter two of my helen/orla fic is up!!

[adamprrishcycle]

Identity crisis time 😌

[harlotsforcinnamon]

Okaaaaaay

I’m back on my bullshit. I’ve been calling this my “Massive Head Trauma AU” so buckle up

[harlotsforcinnamon]