#TRC fanfiction

[audikatia]

Trick or treat! 🕸👻

Thank you, Kellie!

Since you are a madwoman always writing new fic, I'll share a fic idea I have noodling around in my brain that I'd like to write if I ever get done with my main fic.

It's a Pynch fake dating AU, but the fake dating is between Declan and Adam.

So, Ronan comes out to Declan, but when Declan tries to give a show of support, the two of them rile each other up. Ronan being difficult, Declan overcompensating, etc, until finally Declan finds himself declaring that he's so unhomophobic that he is actually also interested in men and even has a boyfriend of his own. Ronan, trying to call him on his bullshit, says that Declan should bring his boyfriend to the house for Christmas since Declan had already subjected him and Matthew to all the Ashleys he had dated before.

So, Declan finds Adam's post on Craigslist (or similar. Do people still use Craigslist? Is this still relevant?) where he offers to be someone's fake date for the holidays in exchange for a place to stay and a holiday meal. No sex or anything, just basically a place to crash and some food, and, in exchange, he'd either be a pleasant boyfriend or a goddamn nightmare to ruin a holiday, depending on what the client is looking for.

Declan hires Adam and brings him to the Barns for Christmas and fake dating shenanigans ensue, but instead of it bringing Declan and Adam closer, it just introduces Ronan and Adam to each other.

I also have this whole idea of Adam and Ronan having late night conversations in the kitchen of the Barns. Ronan is up late from his insomnia, Adam is up late working on his thesis because that's the only time he can just be "off the clock." This is when they start to bond.

Ronan is so conflicted because he thinks his brother is lying but maybe he is with Adam and if he is with Adam, then Ronan can't date him. And if Declan is lying, then Adam is lying, and Ronan's not sure about that either. Adam just needed a place to stay for the holidays, he wasn't expecting to ever meet anyone worthwhile on one of these Craigslist jobs, but here's Ronan and his terrible mouth. Matthew just wants everyone to be happy.

Basically, I like the idea of taking a basic trope and inverting it a little bit. It's fake dating, but the endgame couple is a different couple. The practice kissing is a nightmare. Declan and Adam have to hold hands and be close to each other, and it's just deeply uncomfortable for everyone. Declan wonders if they need to practice kissing and Adam is just such a bitch about saying "no, that's just stupid."

-

"Should we practice?" Declan asked.

Nothing in Adam's expression changed as he continued to stare at Declan's proffered hand, but the silence crawled along Declan's skin until he finally, reluctantly, pulled it away.

"Holding hands with a man and kissing a man is the same as holding hands or kissing a woman." Adam looked at Declan, something thoughtful and cool crossing his alien face. "Maybe your brother is right. Maybe you are homophobic."

"That’s not—" Declan snapped, cutting himself off. He would not lose his patience this quickly. With years of experience wrangling Ronan's mercurial moods, he would not be bested this quickly by a stranger. "I simply meant it should look as though we are comfortable with each other."

Adam raised one nearly colorless eyebrow and then, without taking a step to close the distance between them, reached out to take Declan's hand. Their joined hands hung limply between them as the silence stretched like taffy. Declan felt shriveled by this protracted touch under Adam's unblinking gaze.

It was an age before Adam finally dropped his hold.

"Glad we got that out of the way. Thank god we practiced."

[magicienetreveur]

Chapters: 1/? Fandom: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Ronan Lynch/Adam Parrish Characters: Richard Gansey III Additional Tags: adam pov, Tarot, Alternate Universe - College/University Series: Part 3 of bane of my existence Summary:

Adam's little crush on his annoying dorm resident is quickly getting out hand.

--

This is a little something I wrote to get myself going again: Adam’s POV of Chapters 2 & 3 of “bane of my existence.”

[likeasecondself]

this is from a fic i'm writing where earlier that morning ronan brings something out of his dream and is scared to sleep with adam in the same bed again, afraid of what he'll bring out and i can't stop laughing at adam here

[thearch3rofdreams]

Guys, I have an idea, now hear me out on this right, but I'm thinking of righting a Fan-fiction regarding TRC. It set like, I dunno a good 10-ish years after the events of The Greywaren. Everyone keeps in touch of course, but are off on their own lives, and yet something draws them back to Henrietta. This is justva rough idea, I'm gonna re-read all the books in TRC and TDT and hard-line all the ideas. I want it to be as close to the original storyline as much as possible. Lemme know what yall think and if yall have any ideas of your own you think I should include!

[losergirlsyndrome]

here's a very angsty prompt for trc fic:

3 times Adam felt rejected and 1 time he didn’t. 3 times being: his parents, Gansey, Blue and 1 time being Ronan (of course).

i would've written this myself but; 1. i have other thousand wips to look after. 2. i don't think i have the skill set to write it myself yet haha.

so if anyone is interested in picking up this prompt, please go ahead. I want to read this so bad!!

[apollosnovice]

it was the first morning of spring | ronan lynch x reader

wordcount: 1.1k warnings: tiny mentions of ronan's drinking habits and getting hurt (accidentally cutting knee on glass) a/n: i don't really like the use of y/n so i gave reader a neutral name (Eden). i also chose they/them pronouns because i felt like they were the most neutral pronouns to use. i hope this makes it easier to change the pronouns to your preferred ones! this work is crossposted on ao3 under 'deardynamight'

It was the first morning of Spring and the world hadn’t hurt them yet.

Two of Ronan’s front teeth were missing but he smiled like all his adult teeth had grown in already. He was a wiry kid — tall and clumsy. Eden often wondered how much taller he would grow and if they would get to see it. 

Dandelion seeds twirled on a gentle breeze. Eden’s hair joined the dance when Ronan blew another wish into the world. 

“Are you supposed to make two?” Eden asked, turning their head to look at the side of Ronan’s face, watching as he pursed his lips again to blow away the ones he hadn’t caught the first time. 

“Are there rules to follow?” he replied, unbothered.

Eden thought for a moment to the three wishes of Aladdin, a movie they had watched not too long ago. Huddled under blankets they had piled themselves in front of the TV, hot chocolate at their feet. Eden was on their second mug because they had spilt the first in a bout of their usual clumsiness. The living room floor was still sticky. 

“Maybe not,” they mumbled back, laying their head in the space between Ronan’s shoulder and his face. That little space was made for them, and them alone. 

Would the universe punish two kids for being dreamers? For yearning for more than the life they have been given? The world hadn’t hurt them yet but unbeknownst to them — it would. 

Eden took their chances and held the dandelion Ronan had given them between their forefinger and their thumb. Their first (and what they thought was their only wish) had gone out to that new bike they wanted. It had felt like a waste, a missed chance of wishing for something meaningful. They would take their second chance now.

Ronan moved away a little and Eden mourned the loss of his warmth. Goosebumps rippled over their skin but they didn’t reach for him. They enjoyed the gentle caress of the sun and the teasing tickles from the wind. 

He was looking at them — ice blue eyes so full of youth and joy still. They weren’t the cold glaciers of the North Pole yet, they didn’t scare people into submission yet. They were beautiful, as they always would be, and they were gentle when they encouraged them to blow their wish into existence. 

I wish for this moment to never end.

But it did.

The good moments ended again and again and again until Eden didn’t dare to rely on wishes anymore. No matter how many dandelions they borrowed to try, Ronan built a wall so high they couldn’t reach him anymore. 

When his dad passed and his mom slipped into a never-ending slumber, his eyes hardened, even when they looked at them. The Ronan they knew was gone and they had to learn the new Ronan all over again.

And they did.

Eden loved him through every fight, every police call, every bottle of beer that smashed hopelessly on his bedroom floor. They loved him through the scars on his hands and the blood running from his nose, and K's hands on his body.

They dared to wish again in their most hopeless moment where they were doomed to lose everything to Gansey and Glendower and his incessant need for gratification. 

Their wishes were more mature now.

I wish for Gansey to find Glendower.

I wish for Noah to stay with us.

I wish for the knowledge to save my friends.

I wish for everything to end.

Ronan followed Gansey, like he always did — a guard dog, loyal to a fault — until Eden broke. 

Tears wouldn’t stop flowing as they fell apart on Ronan’s bedroom floor, cutting their knee on broken glass. Chainsaw wouldn’t stop kawing, her usual sounds now so distressed it threatened to unravel them. Ronan had frozen at first, unsure what to do. Little by little the wall he had built seemed to break away until Eden saw a glimpse of the boy he had been.

Glacier eyes now wide and boyish again, helpless, scared.

Ronan was next to them in an instant, cursing as he held them up then lifted them into his arms. 

It was the first day of Spring and Ronan smelled like the sun. 

Eden buried their face in the warm leather and expensive cologne. they inhaled the boy they once knew and exhaled the boy he had become. He wasn’t Gansey’s after all, he wasn’t Blue’s, he wasn’t even Adam’s, not to the extent that he was theirs. 

“I’m sorry,” Eden hiccuped and Ronan quickly shushed them. The hand in their hair was bigger now, calloused, but it was still Ronan’s, still as gentle as the boy he had been before the world had broken him.

Where Eden stayed soft, Ronan had hardened. Where Eden had stayed kind, Ronan had become cruel. Not to his friends, never to the ones he loved. But Eden had resented him all the same. For taking away their best friend and replacing him with someone they didn’t recognise. For making them lose the boy who had felt like their soulmate a lifetime ago.

It was when Ronan’s hands cleaned their wound so tenderly that they realised who he was again.

It was when his eyes filled with fire when Eden finally confessed that Gansey hadn’t been nice to them, that they were falling apart, that they needed him on their side and not his that they realised their soulmate had never left. 

They had been soulmates then, when they were young and innocent and the same. Platonic soulmates who held hands and danced in the sprinkles placed around the Barns and slept in the sun holding each other. 

They were soulmates now that they were older and Eden’s softness didn’t just parallel but filled the gaps of Ronan’s hardness. They were soulmates in every sense of the world who found each other again when the world was ready for them to meet again. 

It was the first day of Spring and the world had hurt them terribly — but they had healed each other again.

Eden was lying in the sun under the big oak tree that looked out over the pasture where Ronan was feeding the cows. 

Soon he would come over to them and kiss their lips and Eden would look up at him and ask for lemonade and sandwiches. And they would hold hands and dance in the sinking sun. Eden got to watch Ronan grow taller and grow up and mature into the man they always knew he would be when he was a little kid.

The dandelions surrounding them remained whole until the wind picked up in the evening again.

They had nothing more to wish for.

It was the first day of Spring and the world didn’t hurt anymore.

[cabeswaterdrowned]

here have a self indulgent Adansey fic I wrote about five midnight phone calls between them pre, during and post the Raven Cycle.

(title from The Alcott by The National feat. Taylor Swift)

[lovelythethingsbrainrot]

"Ronan is worried. Declan is fucked."

-Notes for a multi-chapter Raven Cycle fic

[likeapunchinthegut-blog]

so...I just finished the pynch fic I've been writing for 2 years and 2 months. It's 114,725 words in total and will be coming soon to a screen near you

[pociondeodio]

going back to my old hobbies! (rotating adam parrish in my mind like a microwave)

[audikatia]

TRICK OR TREAT!

Yay! Thank you!

Here is an unedited section from the next chapter of Transubstantiation, as well as a little glimpse into what my writing method is like.

&&&&&

Adam’s eyes caught on a tattooed hook crawled out over the collar of Ronan’s jacket, the complex physical machine of his shoulders as he unlocked the door to St. Agnes with all the grace of a thief.

He thought of the series of locks furiously attached to the door at the Barns, of Ronan’s nearly inaudible sigh of relief as Matthew clicked the car lock behind him, and he marveled at Ronan’s trust in locks. He thought of Ronan telling him to lock himself in his car that night he found Tad. It didn’t matter. He had found the body anyway.

-

The suffocating scent of incense and the sweet odor of prayer

-

Fingers wet with holy water, Ronan was only halfway finished his sign of the cross when he stalled.

“Adam.”

-

(More under the cut)

-

a small gold cross on a chain around his neck at the hollow of his throat

-

Ronan gave a smoker’s breath: a deep inhalation through flared nostrils, slow exhale through parted breath. It was too much, too loud in the way of sounds in church.

-

It was, Adam thought, like when he was younger and still living in the trailer park with his parents, when he would hedge at his door to his tiny bedroom and flick the lights off before flinging his tiny body onto his bed. That was back when he thought the monster was under the bed, not sitting in the recliner drinking a beer.

-

Ronan swore, “Jesus, Mary, and fuckface Joseph.”

- Adam tasted his own heartbeat

-

Because there, under the broken gaze of a sorrowing Christ, lay disquieting heaps of dead birds.

Adam thought the greatest testament to how familiar he had grown in Ronan’s home was his newfound ability to detect the many shades of Chainsaw’s mood. Before, he had always classified her and possibly all birds as expressionless or at least of only one unwavering temperament.

But he knew better now, cold realization filling his lungs as he looked at the dead crows at the altar.

Their stillness was nothing like Chainsaw’s own still, alertness when she perched on tree limbs to scare her prey. This was a stillness that promised movement was over. There was nothing left alive in them.

-

Ronan grabbed him from behind, impossibly strong arms wrapped around him. The scent of Ronan’s sweat and deodorant cut through the stifling stench of incense.

“Adam, stop! What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Chainsaw! What if it’s Chainsaw?”

“These little shits are too small to be Chainsaw. She’s at home right now with a hot dog hangover. She’s not here.”

-

His hand scrambled across Ronan’s chest blindly, fingers catching at the gaps between the buttons

-

"You shouldn’t have to see that."

-

Desperate whispers at the limits of his hearing

He felt like he was standing several paces behind himself

It (the wall? The church?) could hold him up. It owed him that much.

He shut his eyes prayerfully

burning points of life that ghost the eye

A message of violence

Like a fire on the other side of the room

&&&&&&

I hate how long it's taking me to write this chapter this entire fic, but I am still enjoying it when I do get the chances here and there to write. It's been such a bad combo of having too many jobs and too much brain fog to really get all the sentences down. So much of my draft looks like this: patches of sentences, half-formed passages, random snatches of poetic sayings that I will eventually string together into a coherent chapter.

But I really will mash it all together into a new chapter and eventually a finished fic. Eventually lol

[bi4bisamjess]

I hate the marauders please stop turning all my favorite characters into stupid versions of Harry Potter characters. You’re wrong and immoral for that one. I’m actually bashing your skull in with a hefty congerblock. cinder block. Leave me alone.

[seaemberthesecond]

DECLAN FIC RECS

I was making a Declan-centric fic rec list for someone recently and figured more people might be interested, so here are my absolute favourite Declan gems in the fandom, in no particular order.

barnstormverse by stewyonmolly (@declansboobs)

This has me frothing at the mouth insane. Maggie wishes she wrote this. it's a lilo and stitch no-magic au but also not, it's just fucking fantastic. This Declan is IMPECCABLE.

Cry, cry Christmas by stewyonmolly

By the same author as above. It's a f/f jordeclan story and the lynch sisters dynamic in this makes me insane. I stay up at night thinking about it.

Every single thing by juinbug (@broekhart) on ao3 but particularly:

The Woeful Wednesday A series of unfortunate events au

Rosemary by the garden gate A Practical Magic AU

Waiting for the earth to grow an apocalypse au except it's so chill no really they're just hanging out

They have a superstore au that makes me cry laughing too. Honestly just read everything by this author, their fics are fucking perfection, just so funny - unmatched comic brilliance, but also deeply considered and heartfelt. They get jordeclan like NOBODY else and the way they write Declan&Matthew is perfection. No one is doing it like them.

Mo mhamai cliste by rainbowagnes

An exploration of Declan and Aurora's relationship. I cry and throw up every time I read this.

Neither a dreamer nor a dream by kiiouex

Declan character study that is so so fantastic. Makes my chest hurt in the best way.

Since you've been home, see what you've become by mici (@eggsac)

And

A is for apple, B is for boy, and C is for carrying the weight of dreams by mici

The first is about Declan babysitting opal and is so poignant and perfect. The second is actually opal-centric not Declan centric but nevertheless has an excellent Declan and has dictated how I think about opal-and-declan ever since I read it.

Feel free to add on to this post if you have any recs!!

(I would just ask that the fics be actually Declan-centric and not uhhh pynch fics where Declan just happens to be there)

Happy reading <3

[happyandticklish]

Not a Big Deal

Notes: Merry Christmas and a happy new year to @signinandgetkinky! I know I'm cutting it a bit close, but hopefully you enjoy what I've come up with. I tried to combine your prompts together into one fic, so there's a little bit of all of them in there. Thanks so much to @squealing-santa for hosting!

Summary: Adam is insistent he's not ticklish. Ronan is insistent that it doesn't matter.

Fandom: The Raven Cycle

Pairing: Ronan/Adam (Pynch)

Word Count: 2.2k

“Parrish. Parrish. Parrish.”

Adam’s brows twitched slightly, cursing the universe for putting him into this situation.

They had a flat tire. Approximately ten minutes into their trip to Cabeswater, there was a loud pop before the Pig had begun to veer toward the side of the road, clunking unevenly as it went. For all of the Camaro’s problems, Adam supposed he should have been grateful it was only a flat tire. Gansey and Blue were currently in the process of repairing it, most likely while, as had been the trend with them for the past few weeks, awkwardly and intensely flirting with one another. They had been trying to keep it on the down low, likely for Adam’s sake. In turn, he pretended he didn’t notice, allowing them to live out their hopeless charade.

Ronan had taken these past fifteen minutes to annoy him with pokes and prods and irritating questions that Adam had been halfheartedly answering up until the most recent one.

He turned more deliberately toward the window now, pretending as though Ronan was not there. Ignore it, and maybe it would go away.

Poke, poke, poke. “Parrish. Adam. There. Is that what you want?”

Or maybe not.

“What I want is for you to leave it alone.”

“It’s a fair question.”

“It’s an invasive question.”

In fairness, it was an invasive question. Not one that Adam necessarily minded sharing, but one that he did not want revealed when Blue and Gansey could get back into the vehicle at any moment.

“I’m ticklish.”

Ronan’s tone was so somber compared to the words coming out of his mouth that Adam couldn’t help but snort. “I’m so happy for you,” he deadpanned, though he quietly stored the information away for later.

“Tit for tat,” Ronan explained, leaning back in the vehicle as his gaze dragged up and down Adam’s person. Lately, Ronan looking at him had become such an intense process that Adam was worried he was seeing something Adam couldn’t. “I don’t see what’s so embarrassing about the question. I poked you. You flinched.”

“Poking tends to do that to people.”

“Not like what happened to you.”

Pink tinged Adam’s cheeks. If it was possible to squish himself further into the corner, he did so. “I was startled,” he said, after a moment of careful consideration.

Ronan squinted. “Are you saying you’re not ticklish?”

“Not necessarily, I’m just—”

“So you are ticklish?”

Adam floundered for a moment before eventually pressing his lips together and glancing in a totally not desperate way out to where Blue and Gansey were engaged in some kind of heated discussion. Not that their presence would necessarily deter anything Ronan was about to do.

Ronan watched him carefully, noting his tense stance. “Does the question bother you?”

Adam scoffed a laugh. When Ronan didn’t take the hint, he clarified, “Normally, when people ask the question, ‘are you ticklish’, it is followed by them tickling you regardless of your answer.”

“And you don’t want to be tickled?”

“Most people don’t want to be tickled.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

Adam opened his mouth to answer, but before he had a chance, the two of them jumped as the car doors flung open. Blue whirled to face Adam, a grin on her face.

“Adam, we require your assistance.”

“We do not—I had it handled—”

Blue raised a brow as Gansey continued to fumble his sentences. After a moment, he turned reluctantly to Adam. “Adam, we require your assistance.”

Adam resisted the urge to comment on Gansey’s lack of real-world skillsets in favor of silent gratitude. He jumped out of the car, following Gansey and pointedly ignoring Ronan’s eyes on his back.

He had thought that was the end of it. But the topic of Adam’s ticklishness (or potential lack thereof) resurfaced months later at Monmouth Manufacturing during what was meant to be a study session between the three boys. Gansey was sat on the floor, a stack of books on either side of him with a mountain of paper scattered in front of him that he was perusing through. It was unclear whether the aim of his research was academics or Glendower related, and Adam hadn’t bothered to ask for fear of inciting some long-lasting rant that would quickly wile away their afternoon. He was curled up on the side of the couch reading about the Byzantian Empire for an upcoming assignment when Ronan decided to join them in the form of falling down on the couch and slinging his legs across Adam’s legs and on top of Adam’s book.

Gansey didn’t bother to glance up at his presence, but offered a vague hand raise in greeting. Adam yanked his book to freedom, raising an eyebrow in Ronan’s direction.

“Move.”

“Make me.” Ronan crossed his arms behind his head, settling comfortably into the couch.

The smirk on his face implied that he was in an impish mood that Adam frankly didn’t have time for. “You’re such a child. Gansey, can you please leash your dog?”

Ronan gnashed his teeth with a grin as Gansey wearily replied, “Trust me, Adam, if I had figured out that trick, I would have done so years ago. He’s your problem now.”

It was clear he was going to be getting no help at all. Adam sighed, shoving at Ronan’s legs to no avail. The struggle seemed to be just what Ronan was waiting for, and he took advantage of it to knock Adam’s book onto the ground. When Adam turned to face him, he merely stuck his tongue out, before closing his eyes with a pleased hum.

Adam didn’t mean to do it. He wasn’t even really sure where the instinct came from, only that he wanted to wipe that smug look off Ronan’s face. His fingers had barely brushed Ronan’s foot before he was nearly upended by the force of the latter jerking his leg back. They made eye contact for only a moment before Adam was leaping off the couch and hightailing it for… where, he couldn’t say, so long as it was away from there. Gansey’s apartment was built to foster open space, not to create good hiding spots for this soon to be dead man.

Ronan was after him in an instant, and Gansey let out a disgruntled noise as he knocked over his papers in his haste. “Ronan! Adam! I would appreciate it if you took it outside if you’re going to kill one another.”

Neither listened to him. Adam had barely made it more than ten feet before he was backed into a dead end. He turned around only to yelp when Ronan grabbed hold of his wrists, jerking them over his head and pressing him against the wall. Laughter, nervous and giddy, was spilling out of Adam already as he tugged desperately to free himself.

“Ronan, Ronan, please, don’t tickle me, I swear to god—"

“I guess now we’ll finally answer the question of whether the wallflower is ticklish or not.”

“I’m not, but don’t—Ronan!"

Ronan’s hand only just made contact with his sides, though even that touch alone was enough to send shivers coursing down Adam’s spine. He paused at the frantic nature to Adam’s tone. His hand retracted slightly as he considered him, taking in his flushed voice, wide eyes, and goofy grin. Then, to Adam’s surprise, he let go. Adam brought his arms down, relief flooding him first, followed quickly by confusion as Ronan shoved his hands in his pockets and stalked back over to the couch to bother Gansey about what they were having for dinner that night.

Adam could have sworn there was a faint pink tinge to Ronan’s ears as he walked away, though that could have been his imagination playing tricks on him.  

Once Ronan and Adam started dating, it became much harder to evade queries about his sensitivity. But Ronan was unusually respectful about the issue. He never pushed as Adam made excuse after excuse, not even when too gentle of intimacy brought about twitches and huffs of barely concealed laughter. Nearly another year went by before Adam was forced to confront the issue once more. It was late December, and snow had finally graced Cambridge with its presence. Adam thought it was nice. There was something to having an excuse to stay curled up inside without having to worry about braving the company of his fellow classmates; he liked them well enough, but Adam was a creature of solitude at heart. Ronan, on the other hand, had far less charitable views toward the weather that had made the drive up to visit a living hell.

Now, the two of them lay curled up together on Adam’s bed, Adam’s head resting against the firmness of Ronan’s chest. The first several hours of the visit had consisted of far more affectionate behavior, but now they had settled into a comfortable rhythm of relaxation that Adam was loathe to leave. His shirt was rucked up in the back, and Ronan traced lazy circles over his lower back. At times, he strayed too close to his sides and Adam flinched unthinkingly. “Sorry. Your hands are cold.”

The touching paused, and Adam held back what would have been an embarrassing whine at its absence. “You can tell me if you’re ticklish, you know.”

Adam stiffened. “Okay. Thank you. I’m not though.”

Adam could practically feel Ronan rolling his eyes at him. “We’ve been dating for years now, I don’t understand why you still feel the need to hide the obvious. It’s not like I’m going to abuse the information or anything.”

“First of all, there is no obvious. Second of all, I highly doubt that. You’ve never showed the same consideration to Gansey.”

“Gansey likes it,” Ronan pointed out, before frowning. “Most of the time, anyways. Besides, do you really think I would do anything to you if you didn’t want me to?”

Adam hesitated. “Well. No, but—”

“I just don’t see why it’s such a big deal to you,” Ronan continued, ignoring his protests. “Everyone’s fucking ticklish. I’m ticklish. It’s human. It doesn’t imply something about you. Christ. Anyways. You don’t have to tell me, if it’s really important to you. But I’m not going to think less of you because you’re plagued by the same weakness as most of our population.”

He lapsed into silence after that, leaving Adam to stew in his words. He wasn’t wrong. Logically speaking, Adam knew that Ronan would probably leave him alone if he asked. There was no reason to be so cagey about such a simple piece of information, especially considering Ronan had likely already gathered the truth despite his protestations. If Adam really thought about it, which he was now thanks to Ronan, he wasn’t worried that he was going to tickle him.

He was worried that he wasn’t.

The two continued to lay in the quiet aftermath of Ronan’s words for several minutes. The tracing had started back up again at some point, but Adam couldn’t find the same contentment in it anymore. There was a growing itch beneath his skin, and he shifted uncomfortably, his body warm and prickly with embarrassment.

There’s no harm in asking.

“Ronan.”

“Adam.”

“I’m—well. I am. Ticklish, that is. Just a bit.”

A soft smile graced Ronan’s face, though Adam didn’t dare look up to notice. Ronan’s jacket was slung across the desk chair on the far end of the room and Adam focused all of his attentions on it instead, memorizing every minor crease instead of noticing how Ronan wasn’t saying anything. Finally—

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay, I’m glad you told me. It seemed like it was weighing on you.”

“Oh. Good.” Adam’s grip tightened where it was wrapped around Ronan’s torso. Several more beats went by. The itch was growing worse, and his foot tapped a nervous rhythm against the end of the bed. “Can you—fuck. Fuck, this is ridiculous, why can’t I just—”

“Adam. I said it’s okay. All you have to say is yes or no.”

Adam’s breath caught in his throat. “I—”

“Yes—” Rona’s fingers paused in their path right above Adam’s ribs— “Or no?”

It was quite possible that Adam had never been more grateful for Ronan’s bluntness than in that moment. He wasn’t sure he could get the words out, so he nodded instead. A moment later, he was biting his lip as fingers crawled treacherously under his arms, laughter bubbling up quickly in his throat. He buried his face in Ronan’s chest, ignoring the burning of his cheeks and focusing instead on how Ronan was being so gentle and light and yet, it tickled so much more than Adam could have possibly prepared for.

“Ronan!”

“Adam.”

How could a tone be so mocking and so affectionate all at once? “It tickles.”

Blunt nails spidered quickly near the edges of Adam’s arms, leaving him in a fit of giggles as he struggled to hold himself still.

“I know.”

As he laughed the rest of the night away, Adam found himself immensely grateful for the fact.

[littlefoldedpaperstars]

i wish i could write raven cycle fanfiction. but i CAN'T. because something about those characters and everything that maggie stiefvater writes is so incredible and visceral that i simply don't know how to convey anything nearing the source material like how do i capture adam parrish??? he is UNKNOWABLE. how do you write blue and gansey? i love them more than life itself but i don't know how to pull them from my heart and put them onto the page.