i think i was born bored

@decladams / decladams.tumblr.com

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finished fics

i can't sleep (and i miss your face) - pynch angst, 4.2k, teen and up. playlist

i'd stay awake for you to put me in the corner - ronsey vampire au, 9.3k, teen and up. playlist | tag

a ruined sinner and a wasted soul - pynch priest au, 6.2k, teen and up. playlist

i'll rearrange to let you in - t4t transfem pynch, 6.6k, mature. playlist | tag

but baby, it's all relative - the fear of becoming your father, 5.2k, teen and up. playlist

a good hit below the belt - hollanov yuri, 5.6k, explicit.

ongoing series: good lives make bad stories. playlist | tag

hold onto the ghost of my body - decladam and grief, 67.5k, mature.

tell your baby that i'm your baby - declan, adam, and declan's wife, 5.2k, explicit.

wips:

even the iron still fears the rot - decladam fbi/serial killer au. playlist | tag

misc

hiiii <3 for the wip game! i’d love to hear about decladam apocalypse lovers obviously but also maybe reenact the same recurring dream 👀

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yayyyy hiiii

decladam apocalypse lovers is pure vibes right now but there's a snippet here! but here's my general idea/summary for what i want to happen (when i eventually for real write it)

  • the world ended when adam and declan were young (roughly 14), and they've both been trying to survive alone. it's not any zombie apocalypse—the world just like, ended. i haven't decided any real specifics.
  • declan was in d.c. with niall when it happened, and he's been trying to find ronan and matthew ever since.
  • they meet and form a reluctant bond when adam meets declan in henrietta, with declan trying to get back to the barns.
  • it's like strangers to lovers except they're like both extremely wary of other people at all

reenact the same recurring dream is an old WIP: pynch timeloop au!! it's funny because i have the whole thing outlined but i just haven't written it yet. i have 3/10 chapters done

It came out of out of nowhere, the headlights bright in Ronan’s face. He looked up, a split second of panic on his face. There were screeching tires, and then a loud, long honk, and then the sound of crashing metal and shattering glass.  Ronan couldn’t breathe; every breath felt wet, like he was drowning. The BMW was sideways, glass dug into his side, the seatbelt torn in spots. When Ronan died, the radio finally began to work, the host excitedly announcing the next song in their 70’s throwback session. 

i literally can't pick a wip to ask you about they.... i'm so intrigued what the fuuckk. i'm a sucker for apocalypse au, ofc, but also. please. share about the others. i'm begging you. i wanna ask specifics but i'm literally foaming at the mouth over all of them. MAYBE I DREAMT YOU BUT HE DID? EVEN THE IRON STILL FEARS THE ROT?!?!?!? PL EA S E

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okay so these are like wips loosely in the sense that they are in progress but unfortunately i haven't worked on some of them in like well over a year

decladam apocalypse au is more vibes than like a plot at the moment and it's only like 1.5k right now but here's a snippet!

“I’m just trying to get home,” the other says, and this close Adam can see the Roman nose, the dark eyelashes with droplets of water. When he lifts his eyes Adam sees the stark blue of them, like the sky in winter, cold and dry and wanting.

maybe i dreamt you but he did is an oldddd idea for pynch! the title is i want you and you want something more beautiful from japanese breakfast's boyish.

Ronan does not fall in love with Adam. He wouldn’t. He thinks, at night, about the way Adam’s eyes dart to him, about the kind of dream he must have been having to pull out something as lovely as Adam Parrish. Ronan refuses to fall in love with Adam Parrish because he refuses to love something as fragile and ephemeral as a dream.

and then even the iron still fears the rot is the iconic fbi/serial killer decladam au, title from ethel cain's ptolemaea (though this fic does not actually feature any cannibalism)

Adam strains to hear but he doesn’t learn what they have to be up for. The man flags him down. Adam is struck by the beauty of his eyes, the cold blue of them, like the glass eyes of old dolls, set into a heavy-lidded face. He smiles the way that men sometimes like, if they’re the wrong kind of man, and says, “Is that all for you?” The man hands over a shiny black credit card. Declan T. Lynch. Adam commits it to memory.

rise and shine to lesbians and bi women😍😍😍 stay hydrated and stay sexy 🥰 🥰 🥰 🥰 everyone else….😒 good morning i guess…. 😐

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