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somethingblu3 · 6 months

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Little Moments Of Doubt

Repost Read on AO3 here.

18+ minors dni.

Fandom: Dragon Age, Dragon Age Inquisition.

Summary:

Cullen has a moment of doubt about Kendra's pregnancy. cheesiness abound.

TW: Pregnancy, Pregnancy Doubt, Unplanned Pregnancy, Pregnancy Regret, Implied/Referenced Abortion/ Pregnant Inquisitor, Implied Breeding Kink, Mentions of no Condom Sex, Reiljious Guilt/Trauma,

Pairing: Cullen Rutherford x Original Female Character (Kendra Lavellan)

Word Count: 943

Divider Credit: cherienymphe.

“This was a mistake,” Cullen said firmly “I’m sorry”

“Cullen” Kendra stressed.

He was having one of those moods again. Those moods where everything was wrong and it was all his fault yet Kendra knew it was the furthest from the truth.

“I’m sorry I shouldn’t have indulged in my fantasies I-” He stuttered.

Kendra’s heart ached. Cullen had repressed his feelings from the moment she knew him. It took him almost two years to finally accept his feelings for her. And when he finally did a sense of relief washed over them. Their friends, especially Dorian, had known it for years, yet Cullen’s fear held him back like it did now. It held him back in the bedroom too Kendra was certain that during their cuddle sessions after sex, he was praying to Andraste begging her to forgive him of his sins. It was all quite sad really. Their session last month went further than they typically went but Kendra didn’t mind - she wanted it. Creators she craved all of him inside of her burying deep inside her sweet cunt. During Dirty talk Cullen let slip that he wanted her to feel his flesh. He wanted her to feel his seed growing inside of her until she was ready to burst with child and Kendra happily indulged.

When he got up this morning for his run her handprints and bitemarks were still fresh she couldn’t help but smile at her handywork she had never experienced that level of lovemaking it was intense yet also just as passionate at the same time. She knew that it would be a while until she experienced that again him inside of her with no restrictions no condoms just flesh on flesh as The Creators had intended. He was hard at first Kendra was almost worried that he wasn’t going to fit in despite being average-sized but in the end, they finally got there.. She knew that the next time he would be on a work trip when she would be all alone stuck in their apartment that would be her masturbation material. She smirked as her eyes caught a glimpse of the still cum-stained Dildo Cullen had used on her last night. Kendra was still in the early stages of her pregnancy yet they had already needed to be more creative with positions.

Plus Cullen wouldn’t stop treating her like a delicate little flower and it was frustrating her to no end. Of course, it was nice that he cared but at the same time, she wasn’t a doll she wasn’t going to break under his touch no matter how much he had seemed to believe that. She was always aware that through each session she could have possibly ended up pregnant there was always a chance even with birth control.

While the thought of pregnancy scared her to death she also knew that Cullen would be a great father no matter what even if he didn’t quite believe it himself that was what gave her a sense of peace at night. Kendra lowered her head. She didn’t want to press any longer she knew that if she gave the option of terminating the pregnancy Cullen would say yes but then in the morning he would regret it in a heartbeat.

“Cullen…Go to sleep you’ll feel better about this in the morning” She tried to calm him.

“But what if I don’t? What if I wake up and I still feel the same way about this?” He paused and waved his hand down at her pregnant belly which wasn’t even showing yet but she couldn’t even fit into her favorite pair of jeans.

“We’re not ready to be parents Ken. We’re drowning in debt. And what if we mess up? Mess up like my Dad did. I would never forgive myself and you know that” He wailed

Kendra pulled Cullen closer even as he wallowed her fingers intertwined in his blond locks.

“Look we’ll get through this,” She said softly as she kissed his forehead gently.

“How are you so optimistic about this?” Cullen asked as he looked up at her.

Amazement sparkled in his eyes.

“You're the one who’ll actually have to give birth” He reminded her.

Kendra smiled “I’m optimistic because I know whatever The Creators have planned for us we can face it we always have. I’m lucky remember?” She asked as he tugged at her necklace with her thumb twirling around Cullen’s lucky gold coin the one that he had given to her at the lake.

“Maker your such a cheeseball” Cullen complained as he shook his head.

"There's nothing wrong about being cheesy every now and then" Kendra teased as she witnessed a soft smile grow over his lips.

“Speaking of Chese do we still have any of that Brie left Alistair bought us from Val Royeaux?” Kendra asked.

Cheese had been her first and strongest craving so far and she blamed Alistair almost entirely.

Cullen’s cheeks turned a deep shade of red “About that-”

“Cullen” Kendra whined as she swatted him gently.

Cullen got up from the bed and kissed her right cheek pulling back with a smile.

“Don’t worry dear why don’t I go to the corner shop and get you some more while I clear this head of mine?” He asked

“Alright then. I love you” She sighed as she slithered back under the warm covers.

“I love you too. The both of you my tiny little cheeseballs” Cullen murmured as he placed his hand on her stomach ever so gently.

Fine. Kendra reminded herself as her breathing slowed and sleep overtook her. They would be fine.

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senkuplushie · 2 years

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this

Uh, random vent. Feel free to ignore. I'm only posting because I don't think any of my friends are available to talk at the moment, and I can't turn to anyone I know irl for shit. Fair warning, my grammar and capitalization are gonna be all over the place.

TW: General biological family issues, severe emotional/verbal abuse, referenced physical abuse [it was rare, dw], slightly implied thoughts of suic!de, sorta heavy language

If you're gonna comment something about how I shouldn't feel this way because I'm "related" to them, or how I shouldn't feel this way because others are dealing with worse, just leave [or get blocked]. I don't need that shit.

I can't fucking take listening to my mom say how I should still love my so-called "dad" because "he's my family". No, he fucking isn't. If he was my "family," he wouldn't have abandoned me for some random women off of the street. he wouldn't be the reason I flinch every time someone raises a hand. he wouldn't be one of the main reasons I can hardly ever believe even a little bit in myself. he wouldn't be the main reasons I feel like a piece of shit whenever I even consider asking anyone for help. he wouldn't have neglected close to every parenting responsibilty possible. he wouldn't have spent every second of his free time on everything BUT me, "his" child--no, I'm not saying ALL of his time was supposed to be devoted to me, I'm just saying that he hardly ever spent any of it in that way.

Yes, I understand that my mom grew up in a household with much more "traditional" views/beliefs on family and parenting, and I get that she's struggling to adapt to the changes in those things, but I wish she wouldn't project it onto me. The most I ever get from her when I vent about anything is an, "I know", "you're too young to be stressed," "you're overreacting/over-sensitive," "I had to do/deal with much more than that at your age and I never bitched about it," or something similarly disregarding and/or degrading. Yes, I know she's trying (?) to help, but it just upsets me.

Oh, here's another one of my favorites: "Your brother went through the same thing, and he didn't complain." I'M NOT MY FUCKING BROTHER. I don't hit or threaten to kill other people's dogs just because they were in the way. I don't call other people stupid just because they can't understand something I said. I don't discriminate against others solely because they're different from me in some way/ways. I'm sorry I'm too young to make all of the money for you that he does. I'm sorry I'm too young to help you as much as he does. I'm sorry I can't function perfectly after a week of no sleep like you claim he does. I'm sorry I accidentally tip things over, even if I don't cause any harm to them at all. I'm sorry I acknowledge that I have rights, even if I'm younger. I'm sorry that I disagree with all of the power he's allowed to have over me. I'm fucking sorry that I don't want him to walk all over me and use me like a personal servant. I'm sorry that I realize that all of you are abusive. I'm sorry that I have my own thoughts and beliefs. I'm sorry I'm not a soft-spoken, blank slate for you to force all of your interests and thoughts on, a mind slave for you to own and have complete control over. I'm sorry I didn't enjoy being your personal therapist for your childhood trauma when I was five fucking years old. I'm so incredibly sorry you didn't listen to the doctors when they told you to abort me.

"The youngest child is always the parents' favorite," my ass. I wish people would stop believing that shit and worshipping it like a religion just because it's what they went through.

#fuck this #biological family is overrated #biological family is so fucking overrated #I can't stand it here #and people wonder why I turn to a nonexistant fictional character for comfort #get me the fuck out of here #get me the fuck out of here already #tw: abuse #tw: emotional abuse #tw: emotional trauma #tw: thoughts of suicide #tw: self loathing #tw: verbal abuse #tw: severe verbal abuse #tw: mentions of physical abuse #i just want someone to hold me

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quietlyimplode · 3 years

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Clintasha "tell me how to make it better "? But a little bit romantic? :D

Please heed warnings. Nothing graphic but the implications are there. @thoughtfulmilkshakeface I am sorry. I not hit this. This is not romantic; it’s angsty and has the red room - but it does have Clint and Natasha taking care of each other; sooo there’s that. Title is from a song of the same name by Brand New.

——

“Natasha. Stop!” Clint yells. The loudness of his voice halts her movement, but she doesn’t turn around.

“Tell me how to make it better?”

Natasha looks back at him, a sadness in her eyes that he can’t place.

“You can’t.” She says, and runs.

Three days earlier.

Monday.

“He’s dead.” Maria deadpans passing the dossier across to Clint who glances over it, and passes it across to Natasha.

“Who did it?” He asks, not surprised at the face of the deceased.

“Unknown. But the death of the head of the SVR, is something we should be concerned with.”

Natasha stops on the suspects page, and Clint can’t help but notice the look of recognition pass across her face.

“Yevgeni Primakov would not be an easy man to kill.” She states, and hands the file back to Maria. “What do you want us to do about it?”

Maria hands her another file, “Find out who did it.”

Clint smiles. “A trip?”

Natasha hands him the file and his smile drops.

“To Romania?” The two women smile at his disappointment.

“Yeah, that’s where he was killed.”

Clint pouts.

“Can someone else do it?”

Natasha rolls her eyes.

Tuesday.

They arrive in Romania and Clint can’t stop complaining. It’s too cold. The plane food is shit. He hit his head on the baggage bin. It’s never ending, and grates on Natasha’s patience.

They head immediately to the scene of Yevgeni’s death, and Clint moans that they can’t even stop at the hotel before working.

It makes Natasha snap, and she ends up smacking him on the upside of the head before giving him a look. He shuts up and they get to work.

They create a timeline of his death and he flashes the suspect list at her.

“Which one do you know?” He asks.

Surprise plays across her face, “how’d you..?”

Clint smirks. “I always know.”

“Sergey Naryshkin.” She says. “He was a trainer.”

Clint’s face drops. “Oh.”

Natasha nods. “Yeah. ‘Oh’ is right.”

#clintasha #clintasha fics #clint/nat fics #natasha romanoff #black widow #clint barton #hawkeye #nick fury #maria hill #red room #implied/referenced abortion tw #implied csa tw #my fics #brand new #obybmtgd #marvel fic #whump fic #hurt/comfort

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bohemian-rhapsody-slash · 5 years

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There's been several asks lately about Roger getting pregnant from the party at Ray's house and he ends up raising the child with Brian. But what if Roger decided he couldn't bear having a reminder of this traumatic experience and wanted an abortion? How would Brian and the others support him?

WARNING: mentions of non con, abortion

*****

Ultimately the boys reassure Roger that it’s his decision what he does and they will support him no matter what. Brian tells Roger that it won’t change how much he loves Rog and he completely understands why he’s choosing to do this and how difficult it must be for him. Brian promises to be with Roger throughout the procedure and recovery, and he tells Roger how brave and courageous he is and how loved he is.

#I Swear That You’ll Be Mine #mpreg #tw noncon #implied/referenced rape #tw abortion

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alyxovert · 2 years

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could you possibly do dialogue for things that characters can say in a heated argument?? totally okay if not! btw i love ur prompts i get so happy when i see new posts from you <333

⊱┊dialogue : heated argument

rhu·barb (n.) • an exchange of diverging or opposite views, usually heated in nature

change pronouns/tense as needed

tw // excessive curse words, implied/referenced abüse, implied/referenced suicidaI thoughts, self hatred

from the arguer…

“i regret having you!”

“you were a mistake!”

“i can’t wait for you to grow up and move the fuck out!”

“you’re so useless/weak/etc.”

“all those times i said i loved you, i LIED.”

“i fucking love you, okay?!”

“did you ever love me?”

“you never loved me.”

“i feel like i don’t even know you anymore.”

“i trusted you!”

“get. the fuck. out. NOW.”

“i’m gonna kill you!”

“if i ever see you again, i will murder you.”

“you think i’m joking? i want you dead!”

“you. fucking. LIAR!”

“all we ever do is fight!”

“i can’t with you. you’re too much.”

“i can’t say anything without you turning it into an argument.”

“this on and off love is getting old”

“you’ll never change.”

“you changed.”

“when’d you get so bitchy?”

“you changed for the worse.”

“don’t blame me for your toxicity.”

“i deserve better.”

…to the victim

“you should’ve aborted me.”

“i’m a mistake.”

“i can’t wait to fucking leave.”

“tell me something i don’t know.”

“you’re not the only liar.”

“love me…? how?”

“i never stopped loving you.”

“i’ll always love you.”

“hell, i don’t know me anymore.”

“yeah, trusting me was a mistake.”

“this is my house.”

“if you’re gonna kill me, hurry up.”

“kill me? you wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

“i want me dead too.”

“you lie all the time, but it’s wrong if i do it once?!”

“i’m not the one instigating these fights!”

“i don’t think i’m the one who’s too much.”

“you turn the smallest things into the biggest problems!”

“can’t we just break up once and for all?”

“you’ll never learn.”

“i didn’t change. you just never saw this side of me.”

“when’d you get so dumb?”

“this relationship changed for the worse.”

“i’m the way i am because of you!”

“if this is the way you plan to treat your next partner, you don’t deserve shit.”

i- oof. these are pretty dark. too angsty? …maybe, just maybe.

thank you so much for the request, anon! also, my posts make you happy? i’m literally in tears, thank you so much!!

[requests : open]

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bibuddie · 2 years

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if we're sinners (it feels like heaven to me)

1.2k | tw: implied/referenced homophobia; panic attacks; religious themes

so...we got that shot of eddie in the promo...and this happened.

also available on ao3

Eddie thinks he’s always been a sinner.

As a child, when he did something ‘bad’ (and bad was a very vague term in the Diaz household), his father would bundle him into the car and drive him to their nearest church. He’d be made to kneel down in the cold pews, the harsh material of the wood digging into his knees as his father made him pray to a God he’s never believed in for forgiveness that he didn’t think he needed. He was made to kneel beside his bed every night, asking God to watch over him while he slept, and his mind would drift to literally anywhere else.

So, as he’s sitting on his bedroom floor, room destroyed around him as he shatters and breaks into a million pieces, he can’t help but wonder if this is divine retribution catching up with him.

The worst part about it? He can’t even say he’s been blindsided by this. Months of ignoring the feelings clawing from the inside of his chest, of aborted screams stuck in his throat choking him as he shakes awake from yet another nightmare, it’s all led him here. Eddie thinks in some ways, it’s where he’s meant to be. He doesn’t deserve happiness, he’s made for bad decisions and pain and anguish. Frank had tried telling him the world isn’t black and white at his last session, had levelled him with a grounding stare in the way only Frank could. Human beings exist in the grey, Eddie, he’d said, and it’s part of the complexity and beauty of the world we live in. No one single person is simply good or bad. You can be angry and worthy at the same time.

He’d just smiled and nodded, refusing to tell Frank that he wasn’t allowed that - that he’d been told from way too young an age that his soul is tarnished, impure, ugly. He remembers being fourteen years old, being caught kissing Lance Barnes behind the bleachers, and his father screaming at him until he was bright red in the face. He remembers the hours he was made to spend kneeling in the pews at church as the priest reminded him venomously that there was a place for “boys like him”. Eddie’s long since come to terms with the fact that something within him is fundamentally broken, and no matter how hard anyone tries, it can never be fixed.

It all leads him here, to this moment. He’s sobbing and heaving and gasping like he can’t get enough air into his lungs, and he’s clutching the baseball bat between his fingers like a lifeline, too scared of what happens if he lets go. He feels like if he lets go of the bat, he’ll break apart into a million and one pieces. And he’s conscious of Chris being in the house, and he does try to keep the noise down, but he just can’t bring himself to stop crying.

In a distant corner of his mind, he thinks he hears the door opening behind him, but it’s late and dark in the room from where he closed the curtains and his head feels like he’s underwater. A presence, silent and stoic and calming registers near him, and sound begins to filter back to him slowly.

“It’s okay, Eddie. I’m here. I’m just going to sit right here until you’re ready.”

Buck.

Chris had Buck’s number pinned to the notice board in his room for emergencies, and he must’ve heard Eddie and decided to call Buck. The realisation that Buck was there, in his room with him, seeing him at his worst moment caused a fresh cascade of tears. Because this was yet another way that Eddie was failing. He tried so hard to hide how he was feeling from Chris, tried to shelter him from the ugliness that was continuously festering within his father. But he failed to do that, and now Buck was here, and Eddie couldn’t breathe. His fingers tightened reflexively around the bat as he sobbed harder.

“Scared.” He eventually manages to choke out, and Buck sits up a little straighter.

“Of what?” He asks, so calm and so patient. Eddie doesn’t think he deserves it.

“E- Everything. Myself.” He whispers, voice breaking. He doesn’t know how quite to put it into words - how to tell Buck that he’s terrified that the darkness in him will consume everything around him - that it’s got the power to warp reality and corrupt even the most pure of souls like his and Christopher’s. He doesn’t know how to tell Buck that he’s had a one way ticket to Hell booked ever since he came out broken and warped and wrong, and that he doesn’t want to drag anyone down with him.

Buck clears his throat, and Eddie looks him in the eye for the first time, his breath catching at the sincerity he sees there. “I’m not scared of you.”

“What?”

“I’m not scared of you, Eddie. I could never be scared, not when it’s you.” Buck states, like it’s a fact, like the sky is blue or the grass is green. Eddie feels a warmth bubbling in his chest, and it causes tears to start streaming from his eyes once again. His breath shudders as he inhales, his teeth catching on his bottom lip as he looks into Buck’s eyes. He’s scared to look into them, scared he’ll be staring into the fiery abyss. But all he sees is warmth and all he feels is comfort and all he can sense is love. Eddie knows Buck loves him - he’s always known. And Eddie knows he loves Buck, and he always will. He’s not brave enough to admit that to himself just yet, so he cries and laments for the future he may never get to have. Buck shuffles closer to him then, a hand landing on the bat just above where Eddie’s are. Their hands aren’t touching but it’s close enough.

“Why don’t we get up off this floor, hm? One step at a time. All we have to do right now is sit on the couch.”

One step at a time. Eddie thinks he can do that.

They manage to move to the couch, and at some point in the journey, the bat gets left behind. Eddie finds himself more than a little unmoored with his hands unoccupied. Buck sees this, and has a steaming cup of hot tea between them within five minutes. Eddie drains the cup rapidly, and feels like he can breathe for the first time in hours. His head flops to the side then as he looks at Buck, and there’s so much he wants to say to him. Things like I’m in love with you, but I don’t want to corrupt you too and I don’t deserve an angel like you in my life and I’d spend an eternity in hell if it meant I got to be close to you for five minutes.

“Thank you.” is what he settles on. Buck looks over at him then, a small smile gracing his face. In a moment of bravery, Eddie reaches over and tangles their pinky fingers together. There’s a lot going on and a lot Eddie needs to work on, and maybe he’ll never be ready. But for right now, this can be enough.

#evan buckley #eddie diaz #911 on fox #buddie #buddie fic #911 spoilers #rebecca writes

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thewhumperinwhite · 3 years

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And Then You Kill Me, Part 1

hey, it’s been a hot minute, huh?

been sorta Going Through It, so uh... Vampire Time, featuring Art and Karim from FBI AU. (Though, for the record: this is their original incarnation, hence why fbi au is Called That.)

I’m gonna tag @whumpitywhumpwhump and also @sweetheartblue bc Karim is... her oc once removed, basically, so if you like this, Thank Sweetheart

Blanket Warning For This Story: this story heavily features suicide, including multiple suicide attempts.

TW for: attempted suicide; mentioned/”threatened” murder; slight foot whump; implied vampirism; referenced parental abuse; referenced captivity; prescription drug abuse; drowning mention.

----

Art doesn’t know how far he runs, or for how long, but by the time he stops the air smells like salt water, and also his feet feel like they’re filled with glass.

He hasn’t been out of his room for a full month. Or his father’s house for longer than that. There’s a sharp ache in the center of each of his calves, and muscles jumping in his thighs; he hasn’t used his legs for much of anything in weeks. He hasn’t even paced back and forth within the confines of his room like he did at first. Didn’t even stay on his feet for the entirety of his last few too-long showers.

The maid who let him out is new, at least to his wing of the house. She’s been bringing his meals for three weeks at the most, and collecting the trays after he refuses to eat it with increasingly visible discomfort.

She’s the only member of staff who broke his father’s injunction that no one should speak to him; said “You must eat something” in a soft, accented voice, looking around furtively.

He wasn’t been sure his father had actually given specific orders—thought maybe they all just hated him, or had decided among themselves that he was too much trouble to bother with—but this new girl was so clearly afraid of being caught, just speaking one sentence to him, that he knew his father must have said their jobs were on the line. For a little while he wondered why his father would bother. And then he felt stupid, for still wanting the old man to need a reason for things.

The new maid’s name is Noa. It took her a week to talk to him, and two more after before she felt brave or sympathetic enough to sneak him out.

Which means she probably didn’t know that this was always what he was going to do, the second he was out. Last time he didn’t do it fast enough, and the cops found him before he had the chance; this time he isn’t taking any chances.

Noa might feel guilty when they find his body. He thought about leaving a note—to tell her thanks, and that it wasn’t her fault—but he didn’t want to risk getting her in trouble, if she somehow managed to help him without getting caught.

Anyway, she hasn’t known him very long at all. She’ll get over it before too long.

He hasn’t been to this part of the city before. In fact he’s not sure what part of the city this is; he’s been running through a thick mental fog since he first left his father’s manicured lawn. He makes himself really look, now, blinking in the dim yellow light of the streetlamps.

He’s made it to the edge of the city, near where the river that runs through the center meets the ocean. It’s hard to believe this is the same river where his mother sips martinis and watches races between indistinguishable blinding-white boats (largely captained by indistinguishable blinding-white men, though Art doesn’t have much room to talk on that score, obviously).

Art steps out onto the dock. The wood is damp and rough, ice-cold on his bare feet, but it’s solid, and not very slippery. There’s an old railing along the edge, and he leans against it, wrapping already-numb fingers around the rough metal. The river’s wider here, the city lights on the other side further away than he’s used to. This must be where it starts to open out, stops being the river and starts being the bay.

The railing’s sturdy, but only as high as his waist. It’d be easy to climb over. The water must be freezing, maybe even cold enough to kill him on its own, before he has time to drown.

But he doesn’t know what the tides are like, here. His corpse might wash right out to sea, and then what will have been the point of any of this?

Art pries one hand off the railing—it’s already stiff with cold, and it takes more effort than it should—and puts it in his pocket, wraps his stinging pins-and-needles fingers around the reassuring shape of the pill bottle.

Art closes his eyes, and breathes in. The water smells worse, here—like industrial waste, mainly, with a hint of rotting seaweed. But it doesn’t smell like too-fancy cologne, or any of his mother’s preferred cocktails.

Art figures there are worse places to die.

He’s turning his head, looking around to see if there’s any place to sit or if he should just sit on the ground and lean against the railing—and then he spins wildly on his heel, stumbling back against the railing, his heart stuttering in his chest.

There’s a man standing at the edge of the dock, under the nearest streetlight, watching him.

The man is wearing a full suit, and Art can tell immediately that it’s been professionally tailored and that it’s at least partly silk and for a moment that’s all he can see—neatly pressed trousers and shiny black shoes, with patterns on the soles that leave bruises anyone could recognize if they wanted to, if they looked at Art’s face and throat and hands for even a second—

“—to startle you,” the man is saying, in a blessedly unfamiliar voice, and Art shakes his head, hard, to force his eyes back into focus.

The man is holding his hands up in surrender and looking slightly alarmed, presumably worried that Art is about to swoon at his feet. There’s a red silk ribbon hanging untied around the collar of the man’s shirt, and Art’s father only wears plain black ties.

The adrenaline runs out of Art’s veins in a rush, and this time his knees actually do give out on him, and he slithers down against the railing until he’s sitting on the damp wood, which is very cold through the thin fabric of his jeans.

The man blinks at him. He has big, long-lashed eyes, over-bright against his light-brown skin. His hair is bleach-blonde, glowing white-gold under the streetlamp; it’s mostly slicked back, with a few curls flopping loose over sculpted black eyebrows.

He isn’t standing on the docks themselves, but his suit—now that Art can really see, it’s pretty ostentatious, satin-shiny in the yellow glow, not something his father would wear at all—looks very out of place above the dirty concrete sidewalk, between two dingy, abandoned-looking buildings.

“You’re wearing a suit,” Art says, before he knows he’s going to say anything.

The man blinks his glow-in-the-dark eyes at him. His lashes are so long they cast visible shadows on his cheeks. He looks at Art, and then down at the suit; touches his own lapel gently with black-gloved fingers, like he’s just remembering that it’s there.

Then the man looks back up at Art, and says, “It’s Boglioli,” in a surprised sort of voice, like it’s a conditioned response.

“Ugh,” Art says, with perfect sincerity.

The man laughs, his full lips parting in a startled grin, and—

There’s something wrong with his teeth.

Art is still on the ground. There’s no sound except the river, behind him, water lapping quietly against wood. Art hasn’t slept properly in days. He’s prepared to believe he imagined it, except.

Except that the smile immediately drops off the man’s face, and his gloved hand twitches up as though in an aborted attempt to reach up and cover his mouth.

Art stares.

It was only for a second. But the man’s eyeteeth were too long, surely, poked down over his bottom lip, like they barely fit in his pretty red mouth.

Art’s ears are ringing. He feels cold, and then too warm.

The man takes a half-step back, his eyes not leaving Art’s face.

Art doesn’t move. He’s been out here in the cold for—an hour. Most of him is freezing, is almost painfully cold, but suddenly there’s heat in his cheeks and his ribcage and the palm of his hands.

He’s feeling something too big to identify. It doesn’t feel like fear.

The man is watching his face very closely.

“What’s your name?” he asks, finally. His voice is low and velvet-soft.

That does sent fear up into Art’s stomach like a knife. He shakes his head once, sharply, reaching up for the railing, ready to haul himself to his feet.

The man holds his gloved hands up again, in surrender. This time when he smiles he keeps his lips firmly together.

“No, alright, my mistake,” he says, smirking. It’s much worse than the grin; more controlled, less real. Art liked the grin better.

He liked the man’s smile better with teeth.

“I just, uh,” the man says, and he gestures toward Art’s feet, folded awkwardly underneath him. “That wood’s so dirty. Your cuts’ll get infected.”

Art’s feet do hurt. He’s run half the city with no shoes, they must be cut to shit. But he hasn’t left a trail of bloody footprints, or anything. Maybe the man can see that his feet are bare, but surely not more than that, not from where he’s standing.

When he leans over, a little, to see if his foot is a horrible bloody mess and he’s just missed it somehow, Art wobbles, and takes his hand out of his pocket to steady himself.

The bottle of pills clatters out of his pocket.

Art’s heart clenches painfully in his chest, and his head swims, and the bottle rolls easily across the wooden planks in front of him. The man takes one step forward, and it taps casually into the toe of his shiny black shoe.

The man picks the bottle up, frowning down at the label.

Art stumbles forward, onto his knees. “Give that back.”

“What is it?” the man says, voice nothing but curious. He’s reading the label. Art wants to tackle him and rip it out of his hands.

“It’s mine,” he says, and now he’s almost yelling. “Give it back!”

The man takes a step back, startled. “Huh,” he says, blinking down at Art, who is now kneeling practically at his feet. Art has no idea what kind of face he’s making.

“Really,” the man says slowly, and makes a show of squinting back down at the label. “This says… Honoria Lange, is what it says.” He raises a perfectly-sculpted brow at Art. “That’s you, is it?”

Art wants to rip this guy’s head off. “Maybe it is,” he says savagely, and reaches for the man’s hand; the man laughs and dances easily out of the way. “Give me my fucking pills back—"

“Oh, relax,” the man says, smirking again. “Seriously, what are you so desperate to—” He trails off, frowning down at the bottle. “…Huh.”

The man looks down at Art, thoughtfully.

“These are—what, sleeping pills,” he says slowly, and tips his head, like a curious dog.

Art’s stomach clenches painfully.

“Hey,” the man says. “Are you—”

Art throws himself to his feet.

This isn’t as good, Art thinks, while he swings his foot onto the lowest bar of the metal railing; they might not find his body for weeks, might not find it at all, he might die for nothing, but he won’t go back, he won’t go back to his father’s—

“Hey—Don’t!” the man yells, and he grabs Art by the hood of his sweatshirt, and yanks him backwards, off the railing.

Art gasps in a painful panicked breath and kicks out at the man with his bare, bleeding feet, aiming straight for the testicles; the man moves easily out of the way, not letting go of Art’s hoodie; Art overbalances and falls backward, just catching himself my scraping his hand bloody on the concrete at the bottom of the railing.

“Shit,” the man says, reaching for Art, and Art flails at him, wants to push him away, or to scratch out his shiny glass-marble eyes, or—

The man catches Art’s wrist easily. He’s leaning over Art, now, with one arm braced beside him, and holding Art’s arm; Art’s hand, his wrist in the man’s glove fist, is very close to the man’s face.

The heel of Art’s hand is cut open; a drop of blood trails down over his pulse point, and disappears into the fabric of the man’s glove.

The man’s pupils visibly dilate. When his lips part, his fangs are even more visible than before, like they barely fit inside his mouth.

Art feels his own lips part in response. Feels his fear—he’ll stop me he’ll call the police he’ll drag me back please no please please I’ll do anything—shift, pool lower in his belly.

The man is watching Art’s face—their faces are very close together now. He looks Art in the eye and—parts his lips slightly, so there can be no mistaking what they both know Art sees. Then he wets his lips, delicately, with an almost obscenely red tongue.

“Hey,” the man says, and his voice has gone slightly hoarse.

“No,” Art says—and his voice is hoarse, too, an embarrassing croak. His face is hot; he knows it must be red, now. “I don’t want it. Whatever you’re offering, I don’t—uh—”

Art tries to pull his arm back, as hard as he can. The man’s grip doesn’t budge a single inch. Like he could—like he could snap Art’s wrist, just by tightening his fist. Art swallows, his heart fluttering in his chest. His ribcage feels too tight. And now his pants are starting to feel that way, too.

The man studies Art’s face, very seriously. “I think,” he says, and his voice is softer, almost hesitant.

“I think,” the man says, watching closely for Art’s reaction, “that I am offering to kill you.”

#suicide tw #whump #original whump #attempted suicide #suicidal whumpee #vampire caretaker #drug abuse tw #parental abuse mention #vampires #and then you kill me

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myersesque · 3 years

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Do you have any horror movies to recommend for someone just getting into the genre? I’m down with almost anything as long as it doesn’t take place in a psych ward. If that’s too much work you can totally ignore this!

oh boy do i!!! sorry for this taking so long, i started infodumping a little and i wanted to include, like, a decently-sized list.

general warning tht this is based entirely on my own personal taste, and i tend to like shitty (quality-wise) movies sometimes. i'll try n include whatever trigger warnings i can think of so u can pick n choose what ur willing to sit thru! (general TW for blood/gore, obviously)

the evil dead (1981), evil dead 2 (1987) & army of darkness (1992):

these r all part of one series*, n one of my comfort franchises!! evil dead is notorious for bouncing around genres - the first movie is straight-up horror w some comedy, the 2nd is horror-comedy, and the 3rd is slapsticky action comedy w a bit of horror thrown in. it's got sick low-budget sfx, n was directed by sam raimi! the basic plot synopsis is that a group of college students go to spend a weekend in a cabin in the woods, accidentally discover something called the necronomicon ex mortis, and end up summoning otherworldly demons ("deadites"). ash (one of the characters) is one of my fav horror protags ever, and also definitely trans if u ask me. the entire evil dead franchise is pretty much just bruce campbell being a himbo and everything going wrong, it’s a fun time [TW: demonic possession, brief sexual assault (two scenes, in the 1st n 2nd movies; everyone who worked on it agrees they were done entirely for shock value, and u can probably find an edit that cuts them out, or timestamps to skip them), general vulgarity (deadites have mouths on em), self harm (one scene in the 2nd movie), body horror (deadites aren't pretty), emeto] * the series is continued in the show "ash vs the evil dead", however that contains a brief psych ward subplot in one of the seasons, so i'm not including it in this list. those themes are absent from the movies, though!

the fly (1986):

i never shut up abt this movie, ever. it's absolutely devastating. it's a tragic romance and a scifi horror movie all rolled into one. in the movie, a scientist by the name of seth brundle has invented teleportation, and has enlisted reporter veronica quaife to tell his story. one night, seth is drunk and upset and teleports himself - not noticing that a fly is in the telepod with him. the machine is only programmed to handle 1 thing at once, so it accidentally fuses seth and the fly together, causing him to slowly transform into a half-bug-half-human monster. it's absolutely heartbreaking and also the best thing i've ever seen jeff goldblum in tbh. (it's a remake of an old 50s movie of the same name, though this version is a lot sadder afaik) this isn't rlly a super beginner movie i don't think - as i said, it's got a lot of gross body horror, and it's one of david cronenberg's best works (if not THE best of his works), so it's a bit intense - but i will take literally any opportunity to plug this movie. [TW: major body horror, possible self harm? (not sure if it counts if it's not entirely intentional), animal death, insects, pregnancy (both as a subplot and played on for horror), discussions of abortion, alcohol, emeto]

friday the 13th (1980) & friday the 13th part 2 (1981):

i know everyone knows jason via media osmosis, but i feel like the first 2 movies really don't fit people's knowledge of him as a character - i was definitely a little thrown the first time i saw them! idk how much i can really say without spoiling it, but you probably know the basics: teens and/or young adults go to an old summer camp with the intention of becoming camp counsellors, they get slowly hunted down and killed. [TW: in-world ableism (sort of inherent w jason as a character), animal death (extra icky bc this wasn't sfx), implied/referenced child death, general ableism (in regards to psychosis specifically, i believe), flashing lights, shakycam pov, cultural appropriation (a white character mocking native american culture)]

black christmas (1974):

one of my favourite movies ever! ik i'm saying that a lot, but this one's extra good. black christmas came pretty early on in the invention of slashers, and therefore subverts a lot of slasher tropes simply by being created before they were established. it's the good ol "babysitter and the man upstairs" urban legend mixed around a little bit; a bunch of girls at a sorority christmas party are repeatedly harassed by a man on the phone, and end up mysteriously disappearing one by one. this movie gives me total chills. it isn't super bloody, either - most of the kills happen off-screen. it's a total "sometimes your imagination is scarier than what we could show you" deal. [TW: nsfw dialogue (the killer, billy, is dubbed "the moaner" for a reason), off-screen child death (both strongly implied and directly confirmed), general paranoia-inducing content, lots of loud noises (billy definitely doesn't fit the silent slasher trope), alcohol, shakycam pov]

house of wax (2005):

so admittedly i'm a little biased, bc i have a genuine fear of wax figures, but this movie scares the everloving shit out of me. a group of friends are driving out together somewhere in louisiana, when their cars break down - a nearby trucker offers to drive some of them to the nearest town to find help, which they accept. they end up at the small, quiet town of ambrose, with the main attraction of the house of wax - an art piece featuring an entire building, complete with residents, made of wax. without spoiling all the details: it turns out there's a reason the wax figures look so realistic, and it turns out the artist is looking to add a few new ones. it's also hilariously, painfully 2000s, and has a mcr song as the credits song, so. [TW: general uncanny valley weirdness, torture (both active and passive), child abuse (physical and emotional - both shown on-screen), paranoia-inducing shit, the generally ableist trope of disfigured villains, etc.]

scream 1-4 (1996-2011):

(scream 5 is only not included bc it's not out yet and therefore i haven't seen it) scream is one of my favourite movies ever!! it's pretty much what jumpstarted my slasher fixation. it's half a parody and half a genuine slasher movie - it's meta and self-referential and so, so smart at what it does. the basic plot, without spoiling too much, is that, on the 1 year anniversary of the town's biggest court case, the small town of woodsboro is tormented by a serial killer, disguised by a cheap halloween costume, who calls his victims on the phone and asks them for their favourite scary movie. he then has a fun little trivia game with them, and any small mistake they make when answering will lead to their death. it's funny and creepy and so very very gay (seriously - there's a whole lot of strong lgbtq+ implications, and i'm pretty sure the writer has outright stated that certain scenes are full-on gay metaphors between characters). the sequels vary in quality (2 is the best and 3 is the worst imo), but they're all pretty damn fun. i wouldn't recommend jumping into it as your first horror movie, since it references a lot of well-known horror flicks and spoils the endings for a few, but if you're fine with that, it holds up even without the satirical context imo. the first movie is one of few slasher movies where i care about every single character, they’re all so charismatic and memorable (and sid is one of the best protags ever, don’t @ me)! [TW: mentions of off-screen rape (past), manipulative relationships, very mild sexual content (characters talking about sex, sexual innuendos, etc), alcohol, child death (characters in the first movie range from about 17 to 19), casual ableism (e.g. killers being referred to as "psychotic")]

saw (2004):

ok hear me out here: saw gets a bad rep. like, a REALLY bad rep. it's often dismissed as just flat out torture porn, but i'd argue the first movie isn't even close to that - it's a thriller, with some gorey scenes thrown in. the basic plot is that a serial killer by the name of jigsaw kidnaps people who he sees as morally impure and forces them into life-or-death traps, the idea being that if they survive they'll see how easily their lives could end and become better people. he sees it as doing the world a service. the movie itself follows 2 intertwined plotlines: a group of detectives trying to identify the jigsaw killer, and 2 men (dr lawrence gordon, a surgeon, and adam faulkner-stanheight, a photographer) who are trapped together, with the instructions to murder the other man to escape. the entire movie rotates around the identity of the jigsaw killer, and the 2 men trying to find a way of escaping without killing each other. it's a lot of fun, incredibly impressive given the budget, and the ending made me audibly gasp. it's incredible. (also, for bonus points: there's a clip somewhere online called "saw 0", which is the short film that they used to pitch the movie. it's a funky lil extra.) [TW: self harm (on and off screen), torture (it's... it's a saw movie), kidnapping, threats towards children, flashing lights, general trauma]

the texas chainsaw massacre (1974) & the texas chainsaw massacre 2 (1986):

for the sake of transparency, i'm not a super mega texas chainsaw fan. it was one of those movies that was hyped up so much to me that i wasn't as scared as i thought i'd be by it - i remember as a little kid i thought it was real, bc i mentioned the title once and my whole family tensed up and told me not to talk about it. but anyway, general plot synopsis: a group of people are driving through texas, run out of fuel, and end up wandering into the home of the sawyer family, a bunch of chainsaw-wielding cannibals. one of the sons, bubba, makes masks out of the skin of his victims, earning the nickname leatherface. it's a lot of intense, loud noises and long tense scenes and genuinely revolting moments. the sequel is a bit more comedic and slashery in comparison. [TW: cannibalism, mutilation, self harm (brief), kidnapping, slaughterhouse noises are used in replacement of a soundtrack, real human bones were used as props, shit like that]

a nightmare on elm street (1984):

another certified classic! freddy kreuger isn't my favourite slasher, but this movie's pretty damn scary. basically, a group of teens are discussing their dreams and figure out they've had the same nightmare - a man with knives for fingers hunting them down and trying to kill them. it becomes clear to them that if they die in the dream, they'll die in real life too, and the killer they face in their dreams is somehow relevant to their pasts in a way they don't remember. [TW: child death (the main cast are teens), lots of unreality (in dream sequences), implied p^dophilia, repressed childhood trauma]

behind the mask: the rise of leslie vernon (2006):

another comedic one! this is a comedic mockumentary set in a world where slashers are real, and following the story of leslie vernon, a young man who wants to become one. he enlists a news team to make a documentary about his uprising, and along the way ends up legitimately becoming close w them and enjoying their company - which is a bit of an issue, bc leslie still plans on killing people. it sorta seamlessly shifts between comedic mockumentary and genuine slasher movie, and has some moments that genuinely break my heart. (also, if you like leslie and want more of him, he has his own comic series!) ((also also!! one of the side characters is strongly implied to be billy, the killer from black christmas!!)) [TW: there's a discussion at some point about leslie being mentally ill and having been treated for it in the past, though i can't remember the specifics of that reveal super clearly. fire.]

us (2019):

holy shit this movie. i cannot recommend this movie enough. if you choose only 1 movie to watch from this whole list, i hope it's us, bc Holy Fucking Shit this movie is underrated. basically, it comes from the idea that our shadows are their own sentient people, who are mirror images of us and yet forced to live beneath us; this movie is what happens when they get tired of that, and try to take our place. it's a worldwide uprising of people's shadows trying to kill them, and it's fucking badass as all hell - it even has some rlly strong comedic moments mixed in w all the family feels and horror! it's also directed by jordan peele, an amazing black director, and the main characters are primarily black (which i think is worth mentioning, bc i rarely see horror movies fronted by poc!!). [TW: kidnapping, child endangerment, general eerie uncanny-valley kinda situations, child death, paranoia-inducing shit, slight unreality]

warm bodies (2013):

this is a weird one so bare with me: horror romcom. romeo and juliet, except romeo's a zombie. i'm not kidding. that's the plot of the movie. it's fun YA teen romcom bullshit, but the protagonist is a sentient zombie man who regularly eats people's brains. it's not exactly scary imo, but it's still classed as horror and i love it dearly, so i'm including it anyway. [TW: sorta-cannibalism? (he's a zombie sooo) - i can't remember anything else tbh!]

sweeney todd: the demon barber of fleet street (2007):

musical movie!!! benjamin barker comes back to london after years in prison under the new alias "sweeney todd", in order to seek revenge on the man who got him wrongfully arrested in a ploy to steal his wife and daughter away from him. he ends up working as a barber above mrs lovett's pie shop and, in a fit of rage, murders one of his customers. he and mrs lovett figure out a deal: he kills any customers whom he thinks deserve it, and mrs lovett uses their meat in her pies. complete with spooky murder duets and ballads about classism! [TW: cannibalism, implied p^dophilia, mentions of rape, attempted suicide, fire, classism, manipulative relationships]

shawn of the dead (2004):

another horror comedy one!! may or may not be a dawn of the dead parody, but i've still never seen dawn of the dead and i understood it perfectly, so. very british, sorta buddycop-esque comedy set in a zombie apocalypse, with the occasional heartbreaking scene. the main characters are completely normal people and also not smart. it's a fun time. [TW: parental death (it took me 10 tries to get through this movie as a kid), alcohol]

thir13en ghosts (2001):

a family inherit an artistic glass house from their eccentric uncle. upon arriving, it turns out he's been using the house to trap vengeful spirits in the basement, which are only visible when wearing special glasses to see them. it's got tons of cool ghosts, a pretty unique concept, and matthew lillard covered in blood: what more could you ever need? [TW: lots of flashing lights, nudity (non-sexual), child death, i know i put a general gore warning but this movie has A Lot Of Gore iirc so it's worth saying again]

jennifer's body (2009):

local wlw teen is turned into a demon and spends her time having sex with and consequently killing her male classmates, all whilst having a flirtatious relationship w her best friend. lots of megan fox being cool as fuck [TW: ok admittedly it's been a long time since i've seen this movie, so i don't remember a lot, but off the top of my head: emeto, vague (off-screen) nsfw, demonic possession]

(honourable mention to the chucky franchise, bc i never shut up abt it, but child's play and cult of chucky both include a lot of psych ward shit off the top of my head, so if ur interested in that franchise at all, i'd skip those 2 and/or read a plot synopsis instead)

#THANK U FOR ASKING feel free to talk to me abt horror movies literally any time #if i think of any more later i'll reblog this n add em but i've been typing this answer for long enough now bvhcjcbvh #ask #horror tag #genderfluidsheik #HOPEFULLY I INCLUDED THE RIGHT WARNINGS FOR EVERYTHING;;;#if anyone knows any i missed pls lmk

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goblin-wlw · 4 years

Text

my blood smuggler theory

This is so not goblincore or lesbian but i watch Big Mouth and I love it and i’m so excited for season 4 and I have one small theory and one really big one. just wanted to write em down so i can say “CALLED IT!”

tw- abortion, abuse, gendered terms, general nasty people. spoilers for s3. duh.

theory 1- mr lizer is the ponytail killer (or at least involved with something criminal)

theory 2- about Jay’s mom’s secret daughter? (her name is Jenna, i had to look that up) in girls are angry too (s3 ep2) she blurts out at the parent meeting “My name is Jay’s mom, and I have a secret daughter!” Is this just her being drunk out of her mind and probably having a terrible memory and being a terrible mom and just plot candy for the writers to use if they ever want to? no!!!!! in s2 ep 7 guy town, jay explains to nick and andrew that “this blood smuggler couldn’t pay my dad back, so he just gave him a fuck ton of marble. it’s super easy to hose down!” this might immediately imply that the blood smuggler did illegal transfusions (which is big in india), which is a larger quantity of blood that could be spilled and thus, might need to be hosed down. but i think that this is referencing a chinese blood smuggler. in china, the one child policy and other restrictions have made parents eager to have all male children, so testing the fetus’s blood is a relatively common practice to determine if you’re having a boy or an abortion (ew). but china has cracked down on this testing because the gender ratio is off there, which causes a lot of problems. so you hire a blood smuggler to get the blood tested out of the country- problem solved i guess. val and kurt, jay’s brothers, are definitely a few years older than him. and they are all boys. my theory? after being forced to get abortion after abortion if a female was conceived, Jenna bilzerian had a female child after val and kurt who she refused to abort, explaining the age gap. who knows how she did it, maybe she ran away for the pregnancy (adding to the narrative that she’s mentally troubled) and gave the baby up for adoption or a friend. and then, after that aforementioned age gap, she conceives another male with guy and gives birth. that’s jay.

think about it- it’s so in character or guy to be so obsessed with having male children- and if he worked with a blood smuggler, especially if the smuggler didn’t pay him in full (for legal defense, presumably), he could get the fetal blood illegally tested and force Jenna to get an abortion if the fetus wasn’t male. fetal blood draws are invasive and painful, not to mention the stress of constant abortions. after val and kurt were born, Jenna decided not to abort again, and went against her husband to give birth to and hide a daughter. then she had jay.

Jenna Bilzerian is disconnected and abusive to her sons. An ordeal like this lasting for years could totally set her down a path to not be connected to her sons because of the pain she went through. I really think we’ll hear more about Jay’s secret sister in maybe not this season, but soon.

(also how cool would it be for jay to meet his sister he didn’t even know existed???? would they be friends?? if jay found out what happened, would it disturb him or make him feel special or make him understand his mom better? how would that effect his relationship with his dad and brothers???? so many questions!!!! dm me!! i want to talk about big mouth!!!)

#big mouth #big mouth s4 #big mouth theories #jay bilzerian #guy bilzerian

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aftgficrec · 2 years

Note

Hello!!!

First off, thanks alot for all the previous fic recs and answers! Much love 💞

I wondered if you could rec some super soft Andreil( Au's including)/ domestic Andreil?! Preferably long fics but I'll be more than happy with anything!

Much much much love!

Thanks anyways!

After all they’ve been through, soft times for andreil just hit different. -A

more goodness:

super domestic andreil here

post canon long domestic andreil here

andreil getting married here

we’ve been dating all along? here

andreil kissing/making out here

long complete parental andreil here

(k)andreil fostering here

fluffiest long post canon college fics here

softest fics for any ship here

long soft fics here

the most romantic smut here

Andrew is soft about Neil here

all you need to know by vhystoire [Rated G, 5729 Words, Incomplete, Updated July 2021]

andrew wants very little in life, so it's always a surprise and a slow process of painful realisation when he does want something. it took him weeks to come to terms with the fact that he wanted a new car. month to accept that he wanted to keep contact with his family. years to decide neil's and his relationship was more than nothing, and actually quite a consequent something.

a decade to realise he wanted to marry neil.

VW Actually Means "Very Weird" by exyjunkies [Rated G, 14710 Words, Complete, AFTG Reverse Big Bang 2019]

If it was just going to be the two of us, then why bring the Volkswagen?

So that if I end up murdering you on this road trip, I’ll have enough space for clean-up.

Neil and Andrew take on the Pacific Coast Highway over the span of two and a half weeks, with a surprise for one of them at the very end.

NB: find art for this fic by @grummpi here

We're the giggle at a funeral by Arirmis [Rated M, 15233 Words, Complete, 2021]

„Darling?“ Andrew calls, still out of sight, and that gets Neil’s attention. Except for some very rare, very soft moments Andrew only uses pet names to be sarcastic.

„Yes love?“ Neil retaliates in the same, slightly mocking tone. Andrew comes into sight, with an unusual mischievous glint in his eyes. „How much do you think you can horrify a whole bunch of conservative homophobes?“

or: What is a professional actor as a fiancé good for, if you can´t terrorize your distant (and close) relatives with him?

tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: implied/referenced self harm, tw: implied/referenced torture, tw: homophobia, tw: implied/referenced abortion

Pinch of Salt. by Andrews_maserati [Rated T, 51118, Words, Complete, 2022]

At 25, Neil has everything, well kind of. An adorable two year old baby boy, two best friends who live on another continent where's he moving to and a chance at a new life, away from his past.

But what happens when a particular blond baker enters his life, or rather Neil enters his? And when Henry and Neil both find themselves slowly falling for the grumpy baker, namely Andrew Minyard?

Guess sometimes all you need is a little boy, old crushes and salted caramel cupcakes to find what you've been looking for.

tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: implied/referenced self harm

under the kitchen lights (you still look like dynamite) by ephemeralsky [Rated T, 26365 Words, Complete, AFTG Big Bang 2019]

(Andrew's recent Google search history: ambient sounds to help you sleep, what qualifies you for a service dog, why do cats like to sit in boxes, daily horoscope scorpio, does quoting shakespeare mean you're being flirted with, buzzfeed quizzes food, how to be neighborly)

((or: in which Andrew and Neil are neighbors who do various neighborly things))

tw: ableist language, tw: mild violence, tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: implied/referenced rape/non-con, tw: implied/referenced self harm, tw: panic attack, tw: dissociation, tw: implied suicidal ideation

the world goes on series by nightquills [Rated G/T/E, 19195 Words, Collection, Updated Nov 2021]

A loosely connected series about Andrew and Neil after canon.

part 1: you don't have to say "i love you" [T, 822 words, Complete 2017]

part 2: just because it's unexpected doesn't make it bad [T, 1127 words, Complete 2018, AFTG Exchange]

part 3: i thought i was a fool for no one (but baby i’m a fool for you) [T, 3502 words, Incomplete, Updated April 2020]

part: 4: want to play you over and over again [E, 4557 words, Complete, 2021]

tw: explicit sexual content

part 5: you've got mail [T, 2574 words, Incomplete, Updated April 2020]

part 6: home (is whenever i'm with you) [G, 2066 words, Complete 2017, AFTG Exchange]

part 7: cruising altitude [T, 2639 words, Complete 2020, AFTG Exchange]

part 8: laundry day [G, 1240 words, Complete 2020]

And the Sun Burned Low by SelflessAmbition [Not Rated, 5094 Words, Complete, AFTG Reverse Big Bang 2019]

Post series, Neil and Andrew continue collecting things to call home. This time, it's a cabin surrounded by a densely wooded forest and lake. As the years roll by, the pair learn new things, not only about each other.

NB: art prompt by @bloodydamnit

Art

thinks about tfc for 0.5 seconds art by @yaboybokuto

Some soft Andrew and Neil<3 art by @linneart

photos spill out of my pockets art by @requiemofkings

I like to think they’ll get here and cuddly eventually art by @rhyva

Neil carrying Andrew art by @teomoy

Cuddling and cats! art by @chemdoodles

a cute family picture art by @uzea-ke

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nicostolemybones · 4 years

Text

I swear by Apollo the physician, and Asclepius, and Hygieia and Panacea and all the gods and goddesses as my witnesses, that, according to my ability and judgement, I will keep this Oath and this contract:

Tw: implied/referenced end of life decisions, abortion, abuse, mild violence, death, and infidelity between unnamed campers, (none of the above happen to Nico or Will), breaching of ethical guidelines

Will remembered the first time he boldly recited those words. They played over and over in his head now, as they always did. An Oath to the gods he'd taken. He wished he never had.

"GET FUCKED!"

"Will-" Will flipped Chiron off, livid- it wasn't even Chiron's fault, really. It was entirely Will's fault. Because he point blank refused to spend five more minutes with a bunch of horrible children questioning him every five minutes. Will was a patient person, he really was- or- well, he wasn't, not at all, but he was good at pretending to be.

And here Will was, being chastised for swearing at a bunch of his students- if you could call his father's spawn students, that is. They spent the whole class being insufferably loud, and Will? Yeah, he'd lost his patience. He refused to do anything Chiron asked him to- he was simply at the end of his tether by now. Chiron was trying to mother him, but Will wasn't happy with that. Chiron wasn't his parent. Chiron had no right to even act like they were friends. Will had no choice in being at camp- and it wouldn't have been his choice- and nobody could compare to his mama, and certainly nobody could make him teach anything because he was really fucking stressed and done with life.

Vaguely, he remembered his oath.

To hold him who taught me this art equally dear to me as my parents, to be a partner in life with him, and to fulfill his needs when required; to look upon his offspring as equals to my own siblings, and to teach them this art, if they shall wish to learn it, without fee or contract; and that by the set rules, lectures, and every other mode of instruction, I will impart a knowledge of the art to my own sons, and those of my teachers, and to students bound by this contract and having sworn this Oath to the law of medicine, but to no others.

He tossed it aside.

"Anyway," Will began, "diets are bullshit. Just like. Don't eat sand or something, you're fine," Will shrugged, feet on his desk as he sat munching his breakfast- a large greasy burger. "We're all gonna die before the food kills us anyway."

I will use those dietary regimens which will benefit my patients according to my greatest ability and judgement, and I will do no harm or injustice to them.

Will rolled his eyes internally- he was sick of telling people to eat some salad like some joyless fitness freak. So what if his patient wasn't technically supposed to have dairy- it wouldn't kill the kid, so if the kid wanted to continue to torture his digestive tract with ice cream, who was Will to stop him, really? It wouldn't kill him, and Will really did not care to hear about explosive digestive tracts whilst eating his breakfast burger.

I will not give a lethal drug to anyone if I am asked, nor will I advise such a plan;

There was no hope for the patient laying in front of him. The damage to his brainstem caused by the tumour was so severe that he had no hope of survival- the damage was irreparable. His heart was failing, he couldn't breathe by himself, and they didn't have life support machines. There was nothing that Will could do besides watch the boy die naturally within the next few minutes. He was suffering, so Will gave a final dose of morphine, so he could die painlessly.

and similarly I will not give a woman a pessary to cause an abortion.

"It's okay, sweetie," Will said gently, "it wasn't your fault. It wasn't, it's okay, sweetie, look at me. You haven't done anything wrong, okay? You said no to him, he's the only one in the wrong." The girl was crying in his arms, and Will was running his fingers through her hair. She was barely fourteen. Will didn't regret giving her a choice.

In purity and according to divine law will I carry out my life and my art.

Divine law could get fucked.

I will not use the knife, even upon those suffering from stones, but I will leave this to those who are trained in this craft.

Will was deadly, lethal on the battlefield, with his bow, arrows hand crafted, sharply barbed, dipped in poison. And Will wasn't afraid to use his knife or his scalpel on anyone who got between him and his patients.

Nico was sat on his desk with his legs wrapped around Will's waist, hands kneading his chest, Will's hands messing up Nico's hair as he frantically kissed him.

"Will," Nico began breathlessly, his head thudding against the wall behind him as Will sucked a hickey into his neck. "Will, you're gonna get sick… I've got a flu, that's why you're here."

"Mhm," Will muttered, nipping at Nico's ear lobe, grinning against his flesh as Nico shivered violently. "Worth it to finally kiss you properly now we're alone."

"Will," Nico sighed, and Will looked up to see his blissed out expression. "Will, I need to stop. Can't breathe."

"I kissed you breathless, huh?"

"Will, I've literally been hacking up blood all morning." Will sighed, and yeah, they probably shouldn't be making out whilst Nico was sick.

Will's brain supplied him with the oath. Will found himself not caring. His patient was just too pretty.

Into whatever homes I go, I will enter them for the benefit of the sick, avoiding any voluntary act of impropriety or corruption, including the seduction of women or men, whether they are free men or slaves.

Whatever I see or hear in the lives of my patients, whether in connection with my professional practice or not, which ought not to be spoken of outside, I will keep secret, as considering all such things to be private.

"So anyway," Will continued regardless, "your girlfriend caught herpes from someone else, thought you should know because you're gonna need to be tested too. Also you can do better than her. Like. Way better. Have you met my friend Clarisse? She's gay and single."

So long as I maintain this Oath faithfully and without corruption, may it be granted to me to partake of life fully and the practice of my art, gaining the respect of all men for all time. However, should I transgress this Oath and violate it, may the opposite be my fate.

Will was on the floor, holding the charred remains of his brother's burial shrouds. Maybe, he realised, this is why he could never be happy, why he suffered so much.

He'd broken the oath, the whole godsdamned thing. And now he was facing his divine punishment- grieving, medically unfit for work, barely able to function through the trauma, laughing stock of camp. He blamed himself for the god's unfair punishments, over a child breaching an outdated oath.

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