#terminator fan-fic

[mirum-wonder]

HK-INQUISITOR (TERMINATOR FAN-MADE CONCEPT, DAY SCENE PIC 1)

In this scene I tried to recreate not the Cameron`s future war visual style but more of a Salvation visual aesthetics since I find it to be more suitable for the day scenes of the gloomy post-apocalyptic future.

Some turnarounds of this cute boy.

For me as a Terminator fan boy it was always not enough to see the short scenes of the future depicted in the movies, I always wanted to see more. And having that urge I decided to expand the the machines model line with some fan made non-existing Skynet robots.

To celebrate the annual Terminator day (aka Judgment Day that occurred at 29 August 1997 ) I present you my first of the fan-made robot designs that I did to expand the Hunter-Killer model line and join Skynets robot army. Meet HK-Inqusitor, my design of the Skynets non existing middle size hunter killer robot.

Modeled in Blender, textured in Substance Painter and rendered in Blender Cycles. Everything from design to textures, final rendering and final post-production is done by me.

For more of the art stuff I do feel free to check out my Linktree

[rainbow-flavoured-skittles]

Hey Mom, Dead Mom

Chapter 1: I’m a bunch of broken pieces, it was you who made me whole

it is here! I know I said there would be a sneak peek but there was less editing to be done than I expected ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

the title is from the Beetlejuice musical’s song ‘Dead Mom’ because it just fits Cole so perfectly. the chapter titles are from that song as well. this one is pretty heavy, since it’s about Lilly dying and Cole being neglected. so tw for hospitals, terminal illness, child neglect, alcohol use, and major character death. this fic is not the happiest thing I’ve written. cross posted on ao3, everything is under the cut to be safe

~

Mom had been very sick lately. 

Cole looked up at his dad. “Is she gonna be okay?” He asked. Mom had just gone to the hospital again — she’d started coughing, and the ambulance had taken her when she collapsed. It was the second time this month it’d happened. 

Dad pursed his lips. “Yes, Cole,” he said. “She’ll be fine after some rest,”

“Can we see her?”

“Not right now, she’s sleeping. Maybe later,”

Cole tried not to frown. Mom had been doing that a lot lately — sleeping, going to the doctor, ending up in hospital. Both her and Dad said she was just sick, and that she’d be better soon, but it didn’t seem to be true. In fact, Cole was pretty sure she’d gotten worse. 

“Okay,” he finally responded. “I’m gonna go walk around,”

Dad nodded and went back to the newspaper.

The hospital was very cold and smelled like antiseptic. All the hallways were identical, and Cole got dizzy trying to navigate. The fluorescent lights seemed unnecessarily harsh. Cole hated everything about it. A couple people gave him strange looks as he passed by, but Cole couldn’t be bothered to care. He missed his mom. He hated this place and wanted to go home, wanted to go back to before this had happened. Before Mom had gotten sick and Dad had started being so distant.

One of the nurses stopped him when he tried to get on the lift. “Where are your parents?” She asked. 

Cole did his best to look the part of a kid who had just gotten lost, which was not wrong. “My dad’s waiting for Mom to wake up, and I’m looking for the washroom,” he said. 

The nurse gave him a pitying look. “Is your mom sick?” 

“Yes,”

“I’m very sorry about that,” she said. “But you can’t wander around on your own. I’ll help you get back to your dad,”

Cole did not respond.

“Where were you earlier?” The nurse looked at him. 

Cole shrugged. He didn’t really know where they had been waiting for Mom to wake up, just that it was on this floor. 

“Was it the waiting room?”

“Maybe,” Cole mumbled. 

The nurse sighed a little. “We’ll check there first,”

She grabbed Cole’s wrist and lead him to the waiting room, where sure enough, Cole’s dad was sitting and reading the papers. 

“He’s over there,” Cole pointed at his dad. “I can go now,”

“Alright then,” the nurse said. “Hope your mom gets better,” She patted him on the shoulder and walked off. 

Mildly annoyed that he’d been brought back to his father, Cole plopped down on the seat next to him. He swung his legs and hummed until his dad snapped and turned to him. “What is it, Cole?” He frowned.

“Will Mom be out soon?” Cole looked up at his dad. 

“No,” Dad said in a firm voice, like there was no room for argument. “The doctors will tell us when she can come home.”

“But when will that be?”

Dad sighed wearily. “I don’t know, Cole,”

Cole stared down at the floor. It was white, speckled with grey and red. Or maybe it was green. Those two colours were very similar. 

Either way, it was both easier to look at and more interesting than his dad’s frowning face. Maybe he could count the little flecks on it, though that seemed like a lot. And it wasn’t particularly fun.

Cole would ask if he could play with his dad’s phone, but Dad was in such a bad mood the that he didn’t want to try. Cole could understand why he wasn’t happy, though. He didn’t want Mom to be sick any more than Dad did.

All too soon and yet still not soon enough, they were told to leave. “I’m sorry, sir, but visiting hours are over. You’ll have to come back tomorrow,” the nurse had said as she shooed them out the door. Cole and his dad walked out and got into the car in silence. It was already dark out, and the streetlights were on. Cole counted them as they drove past — one, two, three, four…

Dad parked the car and they walked into the house. Cole didn’t dare talk, instead going upstairs to brush his teeth and go to bed. Dad probably wouldn’t have made dinner anyways. He was too busy and stressed for that. If Cole got hungry, he’d just eat some chips or something. 

Cole jumped onto the bed and turned off the lights. His yellow sunflower nightlight glowed in the corner, bathing the room in a dim light. He could hear Dad downstairs talking on the phone. It was pretty loud, but Cole closed his eyes and tried to sleep. 

~

The next morning brought rain and clouds, like even the weather was unhappy about Mom’s hospitalisation. Cole woke up well into the morning and dragged himself out of bed. He ate breakfast and went back upstairs, expecting to be alone in the house, but when he passed Dad’s office he could hear faint crying. 

Cole frowned. That was weird, there shouldn’t be anyone else in the house right now. 

Cole knocked on the door. “Dad?” He said.

The door swung open and Dad stepped out looking dishevelled and tired. He looked down at his son and sighed. “Hello, Cole,”

“What’s going on? Why are you sad?” The answer to the latter question was obvious — Moon was sick, after all, but Cole wanted to make sure. 

Dad put a hand to his forehead and gestured for Cole to come in. “Cole, son, we need to talk,”

That didn’t bode well. It was never good if an adult told you ‘we need to talk.’ It meant getting in trouble and screaming and lots of crying. “Talk about what?” Cole’s throat felt dry and scratchy. 

“Y— you know your mother is sick, right?” Dad said. 

A sense of cold dread crept up Cole’s spine. “Yeah?”

“She’s not getting better,” Dad said softly. Tears streamed down his face. “She’ll be staying at the hospital permanently now,”

Cole knew a lot of big words. ‘Permanently’ was one of them. It didn’t mean anything good in this situation. “She’s not coming home?”

Dad nodded his head grimly. “Yes, that’s right,”

“No!” Cole screamed. “Why can’t she stay?”

“She’s too sick to come back, and the hospital is able to take care of her,” Dad tried to explain, but Cole shut it out. Mom wasn’t coming home. She’d be stuck at the hospital forever. They’d never again go hiking or have picnics or read stories together, because she was sick and they couldn’t do anything about it. 

“It’s not fair,” Cole cried into his dad’s arms.

“It isn’t,” Dad hugged him tightly, but it wasn’t a happy hug. It was the kind of hug you give people when they’re sad and there’s nothing you can do.

~

Weeks passed and Mom got worse. The doctors hooked her up to a bunch of machines, ones that made beeping noises and scared Cole. She didn’t talk much, not anymore. Most of the time she just laid there and slept. Dad spent most of his time away from the house visiting Mom and crying. On the days that Cole was able to come along, he sat on the bed and read to Mom until they had to leave. She couldn’t always hear him, but on the days she was awake she’d listen to him and smile. There weren’t nearly enough of those days. 

Today was one of those days, thankfully. But it still wasn’t a good day. Cole had gotten into trouble at school — there was a bully hurting the other kids, and Cole had gotten so angry. He’d pushed the bully and they had gotten into a fight. It ended with both of them on the floor and bleeding, and the principal was yelling at them and Dad was so disappointed and now Cole was suspended for a week.

“Hi, honey,” Mom smiled. She opened her arms for a hug. 

“Mom!” Cole jumped onto the bed and hugged his mother. He wasn’t allowed to do that, but he didn’t care right now because Mom was awake and even though she was probably disappointed in him he just needed a hug. “I don’t want you to be sick anymore,”

“I know, Pumpkin,” Mom said, and how had Cole ever been embarrassed by that nickname? He’d give anything to hear Mom call him that more often now. “But we don’t always get what we want, do we?”

Mom pulled away from the hug and looked Cole in the eyes. “Your father said you got into trouble at school,”

Cole blinked back the tears from his eyes. “Yeah, but it wasn’t my fault!”

“What happened?”

“There’s this kid, and he’s always picking on the other kids, and—“

“And you got in a fight,” Mom finished for him. 

Cole didn’t make eye contact with his mom. He looked at the wall instead as he said, “I’m sorry, Mom. It won’t happen again, I promise. I’ll make you proud,”

“Oh, Cole,” Mom said, and Cole braced himself for the inevitable ‘I’m so disappointed,’ but it never came. “Don’t you see? I’m already proud of you,”

Mom took his hand. “I want you to promise me, Cole, that you will always stand up to those who are cruel and unjust. Always,” she hugged him as tightly as she could while being bed bound.

“I promise, Mom. Always,” Cole said as he hugged her back. That was a promise he intended to keep. 

~

Half a year went by before they got the news. Cole was at school when it happened — he hadn’t been able to say goodbye. Mom had flatlined. She was gone forever. Cole had known it was coming for months by then, had known their time was limited, but that didn’t stop the hurt. The funeral was in two weeks, two weeks to pull himself together and say his final goodbyes. It seemed like too short of a time.

Cole went home early, picked up by his dad. They were silent for the entire time, up until they reached home and Cole broke down. He sobbed into his dad’s arms until night fell, Dad crying along with him. They fell asleep on the couch that night.

Two weeks passed by in a blur, all the days blending together. Cole didn’t go to school for those weeks; he wouldn’t have been able to handle it. Dad let him help with some of the funeral preparations. It made Cole feel better to help, to show Mom he cared even if he hadn’t been there during her final moments. When Dad asked him what flowers they should have, he said sunflowers. Mom’s name may have been Lilly, but her favourite plant had always been sunflowers. “Because they’re all bright and cheerful, like you,” she used to say to Cole. Cole didn’t feel very cheerful these days. More miserable and depressed. 

On the day of the funeral, it was bright and sunny. Cole loathed that. How dare the weather be so happy when Mom was dead? She was the most amazing person in the realm, and now she was gone.

“— was an incredible person. She was a wife, a mother, a daughter. She touched the lives of everyone here, and it is a tragedy that she was taken so soon.” Someone was speaking up on the podium. The funeral officiant, giving a generic speech that didn’t show how caring and generous and simply wonderful Mom was.

Dad had already spoken. He’d talked about how he met Mom, how he loved her so much and missed her. There had been a few others who spoke, friends or distant relatives that Cole didn’t really know. They all offered their condolences and gave Cole hugs he didn’t want.

Dad squeezed his hand. Are you sure you don’t want to go? He seemed to be asking. Dad had asked Cole a week ago if he wanted to speak at the funeral. Cole had declined. He didn’t want to give a speech in front of people he’d never met before, and he couldn’t fit everything he wanted to say in a few minutes. Dad had seemed to understand, gave him a piece of paper and told him to write on that instead. They would leave the paper with the flowers. Cole thought it was much better than the speech. 

The officiant said it was time to say their goodbyes, but Cole didn’t hear. He just followed Dad and waited until their turn. He didn’t say anything, unlike the others who attended. Dad helped him put the flower and letter onto the casket.

 Cole watched as the line dwindled and everyone was done saying their final words. The casket was lowered into the ground. The hole was covered and then smoothed over. In less than an hour, Mom had been buried underground with all the dirt and bugs. There really was no more foolishly hoping this was a mistake. Mom was not coming back.

Cole spent the next few weeks out of school as well, staying at home in his room. Dad spent a lot of time at the gravesite and didn’t come home until night. They spent only dinners together, and those were dreary and lifeless. Mom’s death had left a gaping hole in their lives. Cole didn’t know how to fill it, as much as he wished he could. 

Jay called a few times asking if Cole needed a friend. Cole said no. Jay ended every call with a “you know where to find me if you need it.” Cole didn’t think he deserved Jay, honestly.

One evening Dad didn’t show up for dinner. He was always back by eight, always, but that day he wasn’t. Cole spent the entire night waiting and fell asleep at the table.

The next few days were exactly like that night. Dad went out before Cole was even awake and didn’t come back until after midnight. Every time he came back he was drunk and collapsed on the couch, leaving Cole to take care of himself. Cole hated that. Even during the worst parts of Mom’s illness, he hadn’t been completely alone. Now there was no one else to rely on. How was it possible that things had gotten worse?

When school started again Cole made a schedule. He’d spent almost an entire month away and needed to do a lot of catching up, so it was very tight. Wake up at six in the morning and eat breakfast. Walk to school because Dad can’t drive you anymore, and make sure to pack your own lunch. Once school is over walk back and do homework. Vacuum the house every Wednesday and do laundry twice a week. Dishes have to be done after every meal. Grocery shopping once a week on Sundays and dusting on Saturday. 

The schedule was broken one day when Dad came home early. Cole had just gotten home from school and was doing his homework when he heard the front door unlock. That was strange, he thought. Nobody was visiting today. Nobody ever visited.

“COLE!” Dad’s voice yelled, and he sounded ridiculously angry. Cole flinched and wondered if he should hide. “GET DOWN HERE NOW!”

No use hiding, then. Cole crept down the stairs and faced his dad. Dad’s face was red and blotchy, but he wasn’t swaying. That was good. He wasn’t drunk, hadn’t spent the entire night partying. 

“Do you care to explain why you haven’t been attending dance lessons?” Dad growled. 

Dance lessons? Cole hadn’t gone to those since before Mom’s death. “I didn’t realise I was supposed to,” he said. 

“You are a Brookstone. Dancing is in your blood. Why wouldn’t you have lessons?”

“I haven’t gone to them since Mom…”

Dad’s frown deepened. “You will be going to lessons from now on, five days a week.”

Cole didn’t have the energy to argue. “Okay,” he mumbled.

“Good. Have you done your homework?”

“I was doing it just now.”

“Alright, then. I have a meeting with the other Blacksmiths. You can take care of dinner?”

I’ve been taking care of everything for months! Cole wanted to scream. But he didn’t. He just nodded and stood there like the good son he was supposed to be. 

Dad nodded stiffly and went back out the door. At least he didn’t seem as angry now, though Cole would have to adjust the schedule. Maybe laundry once a week instead of twice, and vacuuming would have to be on Saturdays. He sighed and went to go find his notebook. This would be a pain to figure out.

~

School and dance lessons were hell. Cole’s classmates ignored him as always and the teachers hated him. The dance instructors were no better, yelling when he couldn’t get a move right and saying he wasn’t good enough. Dad spent slightly more time at home — Cole was pretty sure that the Royal Blacksmiths had pulled him out of the alcohol bottles. He still ignored Cole, though, and got angry when he brought home a bad grade.

“Why can’t you at least try? You used to get such good grades!” Dad had ranted one night. “You were so smart, what happened?”

Those rants always hurt so much. Cole was trying, he really was. It was just so hard when he was juggling school and dance lessons and talking care of the whole house and his grief for Mom.

Of course, the fights didn’t help either. Cole got into a lot of them nowadays, sometimes because a classmate threw the first punch or because they were being a bully. They always ended with at least one black eye and a lecture from Dad. Sometimes he got suspended, or threatened with expulsion.

Dad finally gave up on him when the school called and said he was ‘impertinent, unable to focus, and a delinquent.’ Cole didn’t know what half those words meant, but he got the basic idea: he was a problem. A mistake that needed to be corrected. A good for nothing mess of a human being. All that was confirmed when five words fell from his dad’s lips, five words that brought the little stability he had crashing down. 

“You’re going to boarding school.”

“Boarding school?” Cole repeated dully. The words didn’t make sense to him, couldn’t seem to form a proper sentence.

“Boarding school,” Dad confirmed. “Marty Oppenheimer’s School of Performing Arts, to be exact. They will help you with performing, obviously, and hopefully correct some… recent issues.”

“You want to send me to prison, basically,” Cole muttered. 

“Don’t take that tone with me, Cole. MOSPA is a wonderful opportunity. I went there, as well as your mother.”

“Is it because this school wants me gone?”

Dad tapped his cane sharply. “This was always the plan, Cole. As soon as you got to middle school we’d send you there. Things just got a little delayed.”

“What kind of prestigious school like that would take me?” Cole snarked.

“I was one of their best students,” Dad said. He got a dreamy look in his eyes. “They couldn’t say no to teaching the next generation of Brookstones, not when you could be the next big hit.”

“Do I get a choice in this?”

“No,” Dad said, and that sealed Cole’s fate. 

[romaine2424]

HD Career Fair Fic Claim: Terminal Lucidity (3.1K)

This one was personal. Even though it is a MCD (not Harry or Draco), I hoped to present what an honor it is to be beside a loved one when that expected moment of death comes. I should say here that experiencing death when it is expected is very different than when we lose someone through an accident or suicide.

So, if you can, take Harry's hand as he practices being the Master of Death using the Deathly Hallows to send someone he loves onto their next great adventure.

The fic is established relationship, canon compliant w/epilogue, and rated Gen.

Read more on AO3: Terminal Lucidity

[latrodectal]

i remember a supernatural/dark angel bnf who bragged about working in hollywood and knowing so much about everything and who was tbh kind of a giant snob and an asshole who flipped out at the reference to the exorcist in the episode that featured linda blair because she didn’t get that it was a reference.

[gothprentiss]

a treatise on electricity and magnetism chapter 2

rated e (chapter m) | wc: 4.5k | chapter 2/3

warehouse 13 // bering and wells

The team encounters a particularly challenging (shall we say) artifact. Myka and Helena find that they have a lot to teach each other.

in which: Venus im Tüll; the limits of Helena’s patience with modernity, tested again; innovations in speechlessness; a woman (on edge) (of time); dead horse/boot meet-cute; Myka being Normal; wretched bantz. ongoing content "warning" for Victoriana, Myka being super awkward, some very light Barthes, fiddly artifact stuff, and (regrettably) teeing up for Myka and Helena to have some really Cool and Flirty pillow talk about Leibniz and predestination next chapter.

[familyterminated]

Family Terminated: Chapter 2; Hot Love

“Tired?” Alejandro asks teasingly. 

“I can’t help it… he’s so… so hot…”

“Well, duh,” he says. “He's the hottest alpha in our school.” (NAHHHH)

I blushed even more and looked out the window next to my desk. “Does he even want me…?” I say sadly.

“Of course he does! You’re the hottest omega in the school! You guys deserve each other!” Alejandro said excitedly. 

“You really think so?” Alejandro nodded enthusiastically, “Thanks, Alejandro. I needed that. Anygays, Jake invited me to his house tonight!!” I squealed, jumping up and down with excitement.

"That’s amazing!!” Alejandro exclaimed, jumping up and down with me.

The final bell rang and I practically sprinted out of the school, headed straight for Jake's house. He had sent me the address earlier during the last period, so I already had the directions. It was about a 15 minute walk and when I knocked on his door he opened it; probably getting there sooner than me. 

“Hey Caleb! You ready for our study sesh?” He asked, cocking an eyebrow. 

“Yup! I'm stoked!” I reply, smiling brightly.

He gestured for me to come inside, waving his hand and opening the door wider. I step inside and quickly take off my shoes, he closes the door behind me and soon starts heading upstairs. He stopped in front of a door than I assumed to be his room, 

“Don’t judge me, okay?” 

I was confused as to what he meant, and was now incredibly curious. He opened his bedroom door to reveal walls covered in heavy metal band posters. Floor to ceiling concealment of heavy metal. I gasped and quickly analyzed each one. After some awkward silence, I speak up.

“So… you’re a metal fan, I presume?” I say awkwardly. He’s just like my favorite character, EDDIE MUNSON!!!!!!!!!!!! (i cried writing that)

“Now how did you come to that conclusion? I mean, I definitely don’t have metal posters covering all my walls. No siree, absolutely not.” He chuckled lightly and plopped down on the bean bag in the corner. My heart was racing, I was in Jake's house, and not only his house, but his room. I felt as thought the robot in me was going to explode any second.

“GfhggAhdhjzjh)tt6y777” I quickly slapped my hands over my mouth, eyes wide in shock and embarrassment. 

“Uh… what?” Jake asked, confused. 

“N-nothing, j-j-just nervous…” I mumble, a nervous wreck from my sudden outburst of code and abnormally fast beating heart. 

“So, wanna get going?” 

After a while of studying, we both heard a knock on the door.

“It’s probably my mom,” Jake said to me, “Come in!” 

A tall woman walked in with beautiful ginger locks. 

“Hello-“ She stopped in her tracks, staring at me. “W-who is this?” She seemed like she was fighting something. 

“This is my study partner, Caleb!” Jake replied cheerily. 

“Uh huh…” She looked at me with a metallic glare. 

A soft beeping filled the room, and gradually got faster. “What’s that noise?” Jake asked,

“I’m so sorry, Jake. I can’t help it…” The realization hit me. 

“Jake! Your mom’s a terminato-'' BOOM! An incredibly bright light filled my vision, then everything went dark.

I woke up to a ringing in my ears. The silence was deafening. There was destruction everywhere. The ceiling partially caved in and caught fire. The fire. There was fire on everything, it consumed everything in its path.  The smoke was everywhere, and I could hardly breathe. I felt a thick warm liquid ooze down from my temple, I looked around and saw it. My heart practically stopped beating, next to me, Jake was there. He lay there, eyes glassy and staring at everything and yet at nothing at all. Blood dribbled out of his mouth, as well as his temple. I couldn’t believe my eyes, there was blood everywhere. He seemed to be missing his right arm and leg, which were closest to the blast. His blood coated the floorboards and made pools around his body. His clothes were bathed in a deep, scarlet red.

“J-Jake-?!” I crawl over to him and lightly shake him, hoping that this was all just a really bad prank. 

“Jake please! Please wake up!” I shook him harder this time, tears started falling down. He couldn’t die, he was the thing I needed most. 

“C…Caleb?” Jake said weakly. I nearly burst out of my skin, i was so happy he spoke.

“Jake! Jake you’re gonna be okay, I promise!” I say hurriedly, trying to find something to help him.

“No.. no I don’t think…” He trailed off, his head rolling to the side. 

I was completely still. “Jake…?” The light in his eyes was barely there, as though he was clinging onto life. “Jake no… please..” More tears fall. I start to shake uncontrollably, crying harder than ever before. All the emotions I had felt from years before and now, pouring their way through my eyes. 

Then I cried so much that my circuits got wet and I exploded. But hold up there, let me tell you how I got in this wacky situation. The year was 64BC and I was just sent to kill Julias Caesar.

[keikokasugawitch-blog]

Longest ongoing fic that I know of currently

Ok, so... help me explain how does an ongoing work surpass the 2 MILLION word count with 129 chapters realeased to date.

Seriously, I haven't read it, my calculations are that this momster of a fic averages at about 16k words PER CHAPTER and, apparently, hasn't gone past episode FOUR of the original canon.

It's about a MILLION and a HALF words longer than the second longest fic (currently) in the fandom

I kow we're pretty unhinged here in the Merlin fandom but this is just insane.

FYI: I tracked the lengthiest fic published to AO3 for comparisson sake, and that one is also ongoing, spanning 7.5 Million words over the course of 1571 chapters to date and it belongs to the Terminator fandom, of all things. Second work on a series (first work is, funnily enough, under 100k).

The Merlin fic has about 13x the hits. Another interesting statistic

[amyjsoba]

I was at Half Price Books and this person next to says, “I’m sorry. I feel like I have to tell someone about this. Is this…Terminator Fan Fiction???”

It was! 😂My guy was so upset at the lack of backstory and info he self-published his own Fan Fiction. Love that for him

[seafoamsol]

The best years of my life...

... what I wouldn't give to have them back.

I had the great pleasure of working with @spiderscribe on a DeadCeptor work for the @tf-bigbang, which you can (and should!) read [ HERE ]!

Details and artist commentary under the cut!

Okay, first off, I just wanna say, thank you so much to @spiderscribe for picking up my very loose scribble and taking the jump. She's an absolute champ, and I IMPLORE you to read her writing. She did a knockout job on the fic, and guaranteed, these two pieces wouldn't have been so elaborate without her. If you're a fan of deadceptor, parallels, lovers to enemies to apocalyptic teammates to ???s, I'm sure you'll find that and more in there.

[ HERE ] is the link to that, if you missed it the first time around.

The background for the supermarket was a MASSIVE undertaking. I ended up blurring it in the final to keep the dream-like quality, but there is a lot happening there! Most of the time I spent on the background was (jokingly) complaining though.

Anyone who works retail will know the agony of customer-misplaced stock. The little canisters of energon additives seem like prime candidates to be placed willy-nilly.

The little warning sign... My favorite soda, apple sidra, has a carcinogen warning, so I'm familiar with it. It was slightly surprising to me that those warnings are not countrywide, despite the fact that they very clearly say "California Proposition 65", and well. Not something else, like "Federal" or whatever.

The bags of nuts and bolts below, I asked several people what flavor they would be, and I suppose I failed in my job, because I wanted the purple to be the "regular" flavor, and the green to be the "sour". But grape and lemon-lime work as well!

The tub is full of rust-sticks. I have no idea if that came across. My friends kept calling the individually wrapped ones slim jims, which I mean, I guess!

The car batteries... My idea was that they were similar to shots, in a way? So that's how I ended up with a battery with enough terminals to rival an international airport. It's also sunset-coloured, because, I don't know, that's what Party Flavor is to me.

Okay. The second illustration. This one was a headache, mostly due to my own lack of planning, and the fact that I lost the file for... basically everything I did, including the above illustration. So it was a bit of a rush job.

The background bots started off as these very vague silhouettes, which I'm a little proud of. Look at how nice and somewhat readable they are! Okay, now what if I ruined it? What? You don't like that? That's rather unfortunate, because that's what I proceeded to do. In fact, if I take off all.. 10 or something adjustment layers, they look like this:

My process went: Shadow block> Fill rest of form> Color randomiser> Copy and skew (to populate background)> Hue adjustment> Gradient map> Fill Light> Chromatic aberration> Vignette> Levels> Curves.

The.... Magenta cube is there because due to the nature of the color randomiser, the foot had a high value, and stuck out like nobody's business in the end.

Here's what it would look like without the cube. Begone, distracting white blob! (I didn't have to worry about the lava arm because Percy happened to cover it up. What a save! But if he didn't then... there would have been a second cube.)

Basically, it was a mess. But... at least it came out fine in the end! I hope!

I'd love to have speedpaints on hand, but I was switching between CSP and PS for a good majority of the work.

I'd say that's it for these two pieces! I actually have more, but those demand more time. I'm much slower at doing inks than I am at painting, but I hope you'll get to see them soon.

[bbtsficrecs]

BTS FIC RECS PART 4.1

Part 4.1 of some of my favourite BTS fanfics. Please do consider liking, reblogging and/or commenting on the fics you like. There are so many wonderful and amazing authors out there who do not get the recognition they deserve. So please send them lots of love to keep them going. If you're on here, then know I enjoyed every second of reading your story ♡

There will be two parts 4 as it's (sadly?) too long to be saved under one post. Stay tuned for part 5, joon recs will be added!

Please let me know if some of the links aren’t working. Happy reading!

⊹ Navi ‣ Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 4.1 | Part 5 |

⊹ Merry Kinkmas - part 02 Enemies to lovers au au | s | @bebejungkook ‣ You find out who your secret Santa was but his gift was a little too personal.

⊹ In Your Arms Tonight College au | s, f | @angelguk ‣ “I’m Team I Would Like To Be Fucked Tonight.” You stated, blatantly ignoring the stink eye he shot your way. “But clearly that’s not on our agenda. Have you ever seen Vampires Suck?”

⊹ Baecation Richboy!jk au | s, f | @1kook ‣ “Lose the top, or lose the right to present yourself in any low back gown for the next three months.” He truly knew the way to your heart.

⊹ Act Of Falling Fuckboy!jk au | s, f , a | @kooktrash ‣ What was supposed to be a meaningless fling has turned into much more before you both realized you were falling. Now all you can do is hope that all the challenges you’ve faced are worth something.

⊹ Candles & Flames Royal AU | s, f, a | @taegularities ‣  He wasn’t supposed to be yours. His foolery wasn’t supposed to target you. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

⊹ Distractions Practice couple au | s, f | @chryblossomjjk ‣ Jungkook agreed to let you do his makeup, but he can't stop getting distracted.

⊹ Naughty Boy Step siblings au | s | @scribblemetae ‣ Reader is older step sister that knows he has a crush on her/yandere tendencies & she teases him until one day he gives in. 

⊹ When It Feels Right (read part 1 first) Divorce au | a, f | @7deadlysinsfics ‣ Although Jungkook is struggling with the decision he made months ago, he still thinks it was the best thing he could’ve done for your safety. But he isn’t doing well, and his friends are worried about him and how he’s choosing to deal with his feelings. Meanwhile, you’re now living with your brother, his wife, and their ten-month-old daughter, who has helped bring some light into your life. Just as you decide to tell Jungkook the truth about your pregnancy, he appears at your brother’s house with a truth of his own.

⊹ When She Loved Me Terminally Ill au | s, f, a | @jungkookstatts ‣ How does one live when life is bound to end? 

⊹ your step brother fucking you in front of your parents Step siblings au | s | @aris-ink

⊹ Don't Blame Me (on-going) Single Dad au | s, f, a | @thvhoe ‣ Jungkook is known for his good looks and is often described by your friends as "daddy material." Funny enough, he actually was a daddy. The daddy of the baby girl you babysit every Saturday. Working as a nanny for the world's grumpiest single dad should have been easy, but you can't keep your eyes off him. He's handsome, a little arrogant, with broad shoulders and strong tattooed arms. And when he decides he can't keep his hands off of you. Who are you to resist?

⊹ Rolling Stone Idol au | s, f , a | @kooktrash ‣ He was a rolling stone with no ties to anyone or any place and that’s how he and his fans liked it. Now he’s found you and it’s never been this hard to convince someone that he’ll stay. The problem is neither of you know what it means to express yourselves without reverting to sex as a form to end discussion. It causes all hell to break loose when Jungkook realized if he wants you to stay for him [with him] then he needs to show it to you too. Can Jungkook and Y/n get past their own growing doubts on if what they feel is real and work out a way to be together—especially considering Y/n wants nothing to do with the limelight?

⊹ The Ability To Fantom - part 02 (on-going) Brother’s best friend au | a, f | @hanniwrites ‣ You are shocked when your friends reveal their theory: Jungkook, your brother’s annoying best friend, has a crush on you. A bad one.

⊹ Torn Apart Infidelity au | s, a | @bethschamberoftales ‣ That one time when you caught your boyfriend cheating on you.

⊹ My Love Is Here (series) Unrequited love to requited | s, f, a | @solemnreads ‣ You didn’t mean for it to happen. It’s not like you purposely woke up one day and thought “Hey I’m going to fall in love with my best friend!” No, that is not at all what happened.

⊹ I'll Stop Tomorrow Friends with benefits AU | s, a | @dreamyjoons ‣ You know it has to end.

⊹ Just A Taste Spring break AU | s, f | @cutechim ‣ “Your lips make me wonder what the rest of you would taste like.”

⊹ Flat Tire Established relationship AU | s, f | @ppersonna ‣ How do you pass the time when you’re stuck on the side of the road with your boyfriend, with a flat tire?

⊹ One Mistake (on-going) Idol!Tae & Cheating AU | a | @vamours ‣ it’s been three years since you and Taehyung had started dating. recently, you’ve started to notice changes in taehyung’s behavior towards you. with your four years anniversary only a few weeks away, you’ve come to discover the truth.

⊹ Akrasia Strangers to? | s | @nitaescence ‣ Basically two strangers fucking in a crowded bus.

⊹ Stepdad Taehyung Step!father au | s | @aris-ink ‣ "He was not touching himself right beside you. No, that was not possible"

⊹ Rock Bottom Idol Jimin AU | s, f, a | @jkbabiey ‣ When, in a four-year marriage, you get to the point where you question its worth, you know that’s your rock bottom. How many I’m sorry’s will you handle? How many times are too many times?

⊹ What's Poppin Established relationship AU, | f, s | @joonberriess ‣ Yoongi being the type to buy you a chain cause if he’s pimped out, his girl gotta be too.

⊹ Foundation - Part 01, 02, 03 feat Yoongi Non-idol doctors AU | f , s, a | @hamsterclaw ‣ You know Jungkook is a fuckboy. So why are you letting him fuck with you? Featuring Yoongi.

⊹ Looks so refreshed Idol AU | s | @kimnjss ‣ Friends with benefits is hard, but when he’s an international superstar… It’s much harder. So while you love his friends to death, spending the night holed up in his hotel room just sounds a lot more fun than a dinner party.

⊹ Friends (3TAN) Brother's best friend AU | f, s, a | @kithtaehyung ‣ The week you get with Yoongi has a few surprises. and one of them presents itself in the form of a phone call.

⊹ So it goes Friends with benefits (ish) AU | f , s | @prodagustd ‣  You and Yoongi have been hooking up, having dates and spending most of the week together for almost seven months. He was comfortable without a title, until the last two weeks, when you couldn't see him because of your busy schedule, Yoongi can't understand why he misses you so bad if your relationship is just sex to him. Or maybe he does, but he's too much of a coward to admit it..

⊹ Marry me, Yoongi Established relationship AU | f, s | @spideyjimin ‣ When Yoongi decides to get married in vegas after all the fan’s comments on the vlives.  

⊹ Amour Propre Established relationship AU | a | @randombtsprincessa ‣ Crumbling Relationship with one Min Yoongi

⊹ Blind Spot Established relationship AU | f, a | @randombtsprincessa ‣ Yoongi tries to win you back.

⊹Your Universe Rejection AU | f, a, s | @muniimyg ‣ Regretting rejecting oc, Min Yoongi goes through a circus load of gestures and tasks in attempt to be loved again

[squiddy-god]

Intertwined

Re-upload from my terminated account squid-god-supreme! These are like cuddle HCS, this is an older fic.

CW : Floyd being floyd, jade being jade, fluff, cuddles, eel cuddles. Romantic leaning but could be read platonically.

Floyd :

Oh he absolutely loves this! 

He gets to squeeze his favorite shrimpy fully, what a dream! 

His favorite is after hours at morstro lounge when he can wrap around you in the huge aquarium

i hope your ready to drink a breathing potion because Floyd likes to sink to the bottom of the tank when he squeezes you

This happens often, if your in water then he's making a b-line first it so that he can coil around you

And if he's in the water don't go near it unless you want him to drag you in with him

Because the moment he sees you instinct kicks in and he's swimming to drag you under

If you bathe with him then he's going to go into eel form 99% of the time 

Whenever he cuddles you like this his hands are all over the place, any but of skin he can grab or squish or hold is free game 

Jade 

An absolute menace. 

Jade, much like his brother, enjoys this a lot, the difference is that jade uses it to tase you. He likes to float on top of the Water while tangled in your limbs, you on his chest so that his can rest his arms around you

Floyd bites because Floyd, jade bites to tease

Your neck, collar chest, anything he can nip at to get a reaction out if you is getting nibbled and all you'll get is his knowing smile 

If you're in the pool and you happen to be leaning or resting on the edge while in the water his favorite thing is to loom behind you, his arms trapping you and his chest pressed against your back ;) 

If he's in the pool and you aren't he'll try to coax you to join him, just until your close enough to grab

Less of a squeeze fan like floyd, jade prefers to pin you

Both : 

Haha good luck

Don't listen to them, they ABSOLUTELY BITE

Any and all exposed skin gets a bite, and a grab or squeeze, 

The eels are long so when they both decide to cuddle you it's a mess of your limbs and their tails 

Their tails are also strong- you can feel them flex and move every time they shift or wrap around you

You're not getting away anytime soon by the way,when the tweels want to cuddle they make it an all day activity, once it starts it doesn't stop. 

Usually you'll see their heads slightly out of the water before jade calls you closer and floyd grabs you

When together their favorite place to eel cuddle is surprisingly the bathtub, I imagine octovine To have nice bathrooms with Rather large tubs so there's enough room, albeit a tight squeeze

Besides cuddles and teasing you it's also a way of comfort

Jade stressed out about things not going right? Off to the pool,aquarium, or tub 

Floyd in one of his moods? He just needs to see you in the water and he's making a b-line for you

Are you sad or stressed? The eels know how to fix that

[fyodior]

TIDAL TEMPTATIONS. - chapter i

༄ pairing: merman!fyodor x afab reader

༄ cw: sfw (for now), non-gory descriptions of and treatment of stab wounds to fyodor, very brief mentions of blood. not intended to be medically accurate, treat ur stab wounds as you wish

༄ notes: hello :) welcome to my first multi-chapter fic! this has been a work in progress for some time, and im quite nervous abt posting this first part so be nice pls <3 just as a note, fyodor is referred to exclusively as he/him until reader names him next chapter (he can't speak human language yet) enjoy!

༄ wc: 4k

Since moving to a beachside village after spending your whole life in a landlocked town, your mother had outlined ample, strict rules regarding the sea.

Rule 1: No venturing out past sundown.

This was the rule you broke on an almost nightly basis. Your mother was quite the early riser, meaning she often was out cold before the fireflies had even begun flashing yellow and green. It was far too easy to slip out the back door with a flashlight, barefoot to keep your footsteps silent as possible. There was no feeling more serene than dawdling down the shore, mushy sand between your toes and waves lapping at your ankles as the salty breeze curled around you. It was pitch black save for the bioluminescent creatures that washed up on the shore and the pale glow emanating from your flashlight, and it was comforting. While many feared darkness, you found solace in its embrace.

Rule 2: No swimming past the sandbar.

Also a frequently broken rule. You found it to be far too restrictive, as the sandbar was only a dozen meters from the shore. No fish could be found that shallow, and it was much easier for crabs to nip at you when you were that close to the sandy floor. Being out deeper, where the gentle waves tousled and hugged you, was where you felt the most at home.

Rule 3: No fraternizing with sea beings.

That’s the name that had been put in place for entities that straddled the line of human and creature. Some believed they were even the missing link. Very little was known about sea beings, mostly due to the universal fear of them. They often had unsettling, bone-chilling appearances and never appeared to be overly friendly to humans, so a firm boundary was set. You must never approach a sea being.

All three of these rules were broken the night you met him.

Well, you assumed it was a “him”. He had a flat chest and sharp, masculine features, but he wasn’t human. His human-esque appearance terminated at his hips, where pale, nearly translucent skin tapered into onyx black scales, flowing into a sleek, obscenely long tail. His fluke, also inky black, was reminiscent of a betta fish’s frail fins, flowy with spindly edges, yet fanned strong against the current.

That was all you were able to see of him, at first. You had swam out well past the sandbar one night, flashlight in hand as you dove past the waves, your beam suddenly illuminating his form. He remained very still, head tilting as you made eye contact, as if he was observing you. And he was – he had heard the unmistakable sound of a human swimming, a somewhat ungraceful, clumsy affair, and followed it. Typically, when he sensed humans in the water, he would jet in the other direction – humans didn’t treat him kindly, and he had the scars to prove it. But there was something… different about you. A sweeter scent and a gentler aura. And he was curious - so instead of making a beeline towards his cove when he sensed your presence in the water, he swam closer.

He was immediately enamored by you. You were much softer and merciful, and he didn’t sense a single bad intention. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t uneasy. The only interactions he’d ever had with humans were traumatic, and other than appearances, he had no way of knowing you were any different. Claws bared, fangs ready, and tail already swishing, he was prepared for fight or flight – though he remained, just watching you. And you the same. It was drilled into your head, the second you spotted a sea being, swim as fast as possible towards the shore and never look back. There were a handful of reports of villagers being attacked by sea beings and barely making it out alive, and one case of a child who didn’t. Their presence was not to be taken lightly.

Yet, for some reason, both of you just… watched.

Watched and waited for the other to make a move - to attack. He thought it was surely any second until you unveiled a spear from behind your back to impale him, and you were just waiting to be torn to shreds by those claws. But nothing ever happened. You held his gaze and he held yours, studying the other.

Just as fascinated as you were by him, he was utterly fascinated by you. He had never gotten this close to a human before, not by his own volition anyway, and he had never truly seen one this plainly. It was easy to tell that you looked similar to him from the top up, but the bottom down was a completely different story. Where he was used to fish tails, scales, and fins, you wore two fleshy, stick-like protrusions that only bent in two places. No wonder humans were so terrible at swimming. He briefly wondered if there was anything between them. 

It wasn’t long before you ran out of air and had to break the surface, but when you dove back down, he was gone. You felt a slight sense of relief that he hadn’t been staking you out as prey, but also a pang of sorrow as you realized you’d likely never see him again. What you didn’t know is that he hadn’t gone far, just hid behind a formation of rocks as he watched you dejectedly swim back to the shore. It was a foreign experience – he’d never seen a human… disappointed about escaping from him.

As you snuck back into bed and drifted off that night, you found yourself gilled and fanged, finding home amongst the waves.

~~

You didn’t see him for a while after that. Despite you returning to the same spot from that fateful night every day, marked by an especially large horseshoe crab shell, he was never there. It became part of your daily routine to venture to that spot, a backpack full of books, snacks, and water, and lay out on a towel as the sun drifted through the sky.

It was never quite clear to you what you were waiting for, though. What would you even do if he reappeared? You couldn’t converse, neither of you could go to the other’s homes, what was to be gained from seeing him again? You never quite answered that question – all you knew was that you just had to see him again. At least one more time.

Things started to look bleak as days turned into weeks. Your mother wasn’t happy with you spending nearly every waking second on the beach. She could never find out why either, as she’d likely ban you from stepping foot on the sand ever again. And you even had started to think that maybe you had dreamt it – no way you just happened to run into a breathtakingly beautiful merman-type sea being who didn’t try to attack you. That just didn’t happen.

This… creature, you just couldn’t get him out of your head. He had found his way onto almost every page of your sketchbook, finding new life in graphite, pastels, and watercolors. The inky black tail swirled long and curled on itself on the page, as you occasionally took creative liberties on his appearance. 

Stories of him and your sure-to-happen future rendezvouses began popping up in your diary too - and not just him as a sea creature. You waxed poetic about what he might look like as a full-fledged human, with legs and without fangs. He’d surely be kind and gentlemanly, charming and funny with a deep voice and proper human language. He’d be well spoken and smart, and everything you’d ever dreamed of. 

If he ever showed up again. And it wasn’t looking like he would. Until he did.

On a night where you hadn’t even been on the lookout for him, were just dragging your feet through wet sand and shells when you spotted a dark form curled up on the shore. The moon was but a sliver barely cutting through dense clouds, compromising your vision, but something convinced you to jog that way anyway.

And it was him. The tide that lapped at the sand jostled his barely conscious body, threatening to pull him back out towards the darkness. You gasped as you ran and fell to your knees next to him, immediately recognizing the onyx tail with the delicate fins and opalescent skin. Except this time his back was riddled with what appeared to be stab wounds – they were likely a few hours old, no longer gushing blood, but still deep, unhealed gashes that needed to be treated.

“Are- are you okay?” you stupidly asked – as if he was conscious or human enough to answer that question.

When he didn’t respond, you shifted to sit with your legs crossed and pulled his head into your lap, brushing his salt-crusted hair out of his eyes. His large eyes fluttered open at the stimulus, a glowing violet gaze shifting to meet yours.

“Hi,” you whispered, laughing lightly. “I had wanted us to meet again, but not like this.” You had assumed he didn’t understand human language, but the way he only stared at you blankly confirmed this belief.

Anxiety and panic started to bubble up inside you as you absorbed the situation but did your best to ignore it. Swift, calm action needed to be taken if he was to be saved. You shifted your gaze to better assess his injuries and counted five different gashes where he had clearly been stabbed with some sort of weapon – it certainly wasn’t something that had happened naturally. The shape of the wounds was reminiscent of those a fishing harpoon would create, and your face fell as you pieced together what likely happened. Existing in his own territory, he probably swam too close to a fishing boat and spooked the fishermen, prompting them to overreact and attack the harmless creature.

You brought a careful finger to trace along the edges of the wounds, making him jump and hiss, thrashing in your hold as he groaned.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” you gasped, your hands immediately flying away. “I’m gonna, um…” you thought for a second. You knew you had medicine and gauze back home, but he was just going to have to go right back in the water, right? It surely was better than nothing…

You slowly started to wiggle out of his grip. “I’m gonna be right back, okay? I need to get supplies to make you better,” you explained slowly, gesturing towards his wounds. He only cocked his head and furrowed his brows. Fuck. He wasn’t going to understand a word you said.

With a grimace, you gently held his head in your hands as you scooted away, slowly laying it back down on the sand. You stood to head back to your house, but the creature suddenly began groaning and crying out, reaching a shaky arm towards you. He was clearly distressed over you abandoning him.

“Hey, hey! I’ll be right back, I swear,” you soothed, crouching down next to him, and gripping his hand. It killed you to have to leave him like this, terrified you might return to either find him dead or washed back out to sea, but you couldn’t just do nothing at all.

You wracked your brain trying to think of a way to communicate to him that you’d be back when words weren’t an option. Grabbing your backpack, you anxiously rummaged through it for some semblance of an idea, all the while he moaned and groaned in pain. Some sort of keepsake you could somehow communicate had value, almost like collateral. Something to say, this is special, proof I’ll be back. As fate would have it, you had decided to do a deep clean of your bag that morning, so you were coming up pretty dry.

The only thing you could think of was an old copy of your favorite book you always carried on you, Crime and Punishment. Mother always teased you for a depressing, old Russian novel being your comfort book, but you never let it phase you. Pulling it out of your backpack, you stared at the old, tattered cover with the faded title, and hoped to god he could make sense of it – that you were trusting him with something that meant a lot to you. There wasn’t much else you could do.

You tucked it under his arm splayed out on the sand, making sure he noticed what you were doing. Petting his hair, you looked him deep in the eyes as you enunciated one more time: I’ll be right back.

Panic coursed through your veins as you clambered to your feet and ran back to your house. The light of your flashlight was nearly useless as you trembled with fear, tripping over shells and driftwood to the point where your feet were probably going to need some treatment too.

The next hurdle in your way as you reached your house was remaining quiet enough so as not to wake your mother – there was no way to explain your way out of frantically searching for medical supplies to run back out with in the middle of the night. When you weren’t even supposed to be out in the first place.

To minimize the amount of time you even had to be away, you just threw anything you could find in the cabinets into your bag, hoping it would be sufficient enough. Though you stopped in front of the mirror as you passed it, staring at your sweaty and distressed appearance, and took a second to wonder what the hell you were doing. Going out of your way to save a potentially homicidal sea being? Those stabbings may have been damn well deserved. He could somehow be manipulating your kindness for… something. You couldn’t even think of what.

You decided it wasn’t even worth fretting about – you had to get your book back anyway.

The trip back to your anxiously awaiting patient felt a million times longer than the trip home, with every step of your bloody feet reminding you that there may be no one – nothing – to come back to. The sea was a place of peace, but cruel and unforgiving. Your prayers were answered as your flashlight once again illuminated his crumpled body, barely conscious but still clinging on to your (soaking wet and likely ruined) book.

A relieved smile illuminated your face as you fell to his side once again, partially burying the flashlight into the sand so it stood upright to act as a lamp.

“You’re – still here,” you smiled, taking a deep breath. You almost said you’re okay, but that wasn’t quite true, yet.

His clawed hand trembled as it reached out for you, the stretch of his fingers revealing the black webbing in between them. You grasped it back tightly and intertwined your fingers together, squeezing. “I’m here, okay?” He offered you the tiniest smile, but immediately dropped it, the miniscule energy it required taking a toll on his wasting body.

The first thing you did was unfurl a massive, striped beach towel you found shoved in the back of a linen closet onto the sand before hooking your elbows under his underarms and dragging him onto it. It was nearly impossible, his entire body essentially dead weight at that point, but you wanted to get him off the dirty sand – and this was the closest thing you could get to a sterile field.

Dumping the contents of your bag onto the towel next to him, you parsed through it trying to figure out some sort of plan of action. You tried to keep the panic at bay as the thought that none of this was sufficient for anything worse than a superficial cut nagged at you. It was this or nothing.

The first thing mother always told you to do for wounds: clean it. A wave of dread washed over you as you pulled out the bottle of rubbing alcohol, your eyes flitting from it to the gaping wounds in his back. The way he looked at you with terrified, leaky eyes, aware that his entire life was in your hands right then, shattered your heart. You almost wished he was unconscious.

Grabbing a washcloth, he watched as you soaked it with rubbing alcohol, his nose scrunching at the offensive smell. Touching his cheek, you tried to smile as he met your eyes. “This is gonna hurt really – really – bad,” you grimaced. He just stared at you, emotionless, until the rag touched the first wound.

As soon as the liquid came into contact with the broken skin, he let out a horrific, inhuman screech that had you dropping the washcloth to cover your ears. His claws tore ragged holes in the towel as he gripped it, panting and writhing in pain. You couldn’t help but cry too. “I’m so, so sorry,” you continually repeated, abandoning the cloth to lay down next to him. Tears streamed down his face and soaked the towel underneath him, barely even acknowledging the way you wiped them away with trembling fingers.

Despite how much you preferred to just lie with him under the glow of the moon and the melody of the waves, you knew what had to be done. Death was worse than temporary pain – there had to be part of him somewhere that understood that. You hoped it would be better now that he was expecting it.

Slowly sitting back up, you grabbed the rag once more and wrung it out to reduce it to only the minimum amount of antiseptic required, and tried to ignore the way he quivered and shook his head. I’m sorry felt like a shitty spell as you chanted it over and over again, though the screeches became easier to tune out as they rang on. You were surprised his vocal cords didn’t fry.

After what felt like an eternity for both of you, you had finally managed to clean out the wounds and remove some of the dried blood that clung to his skin. The towel was torn to shreds and the veins in his eyes were blown with how much he had been thrashing and sobbing. But the worst of it was over now.

“We’re almost done,” you soothed as you gently applied the triple-antibiotic cream you knew was only meant for minor cuts to the gaping stab wounds. Once they were packed with gauze, you sat back with a huff to survey your handiwork. Sloppy and a bit haphazard but… better than nothing. And having the wounds covered seemed to have helped him calm down a little bit. One last thing crossed your mind though – how could you potentially make the dressings waterproof?

Your eyes flitted over to a slew of seaweed on the shore that reflected the moonlight and figured you might as well try. With some gentle and minorly excruciating maneuvering, you managed to wrap a few thick strands of seaweed around his torso to maybe keep the dressings in place, and protect them from water immediately seeping in.

Falling back onto the towel that was mostly just threads at that point, you sighed. Thoughts of what the fuck am I doing? carved their way into every square inch of your skull. Why am I playing doctor for… whatever he- it is? Why do I care?

The sun began to peak up over the horizon, signaling that it was likely around 5 AM at that point. A groan left your lips as you realized you were going to have to leave soon if you wanted to make it home before Mother awoke, but then remembered you had company. Turning your head, you inspected his body. This was your first time seeing him on land in the approaching daylight.

He only watched you as you observed him. He was… mesmerizing. Flowing from the nape of his neck to both of his wrists, swirls of smoky black pigmentation decorated his skin, while both of his hands and claws were solid black. His – admittedly stunning – face was mostly human-like, save for his slightly larger, glowing violet eyes with slits for pupils. And you had found out he had fangs when he kept hissing in pain. His hair was jet black and flowed just past his shoulders, flecked with salt and sand, that obscured the dark gills on either side of his neck. With only the pitiful light of dawn, you couldn’t make out much of his inky tail, only that it was quite long, and lined with multiple flowing side fins that resembled the fluke.

The waterproof digital watch on your wrist began to beep erratically, making the poor creature jump in fear. Shit. The morning alarm your mother had punched into it.

“I have to leave, I’m so sorry.”

Seemingly starting to recognize the sounds of leave and sorry, his already sad expression wilted even more.

“I’ll be back, okay?” you nodded, enunciating each word clearly. “And you probably need to get back in the water, so you don’t dry out.”

The elongated amount of time outside of the water seemed to have made his tail shrivel slightly, the pointed scales more prominent than they were before. Or maybe that was just the sun rising. Either way, you were at least somewhat certain he needed to be rehydrated.

Standing up on your feet, you dusted off some of the sand that now clung to every inch of you and crossed your arms. The tip of your tongue poked out of your lips slightly as you tried to conjure up a plan of how to get him back in the water. Considering the fact that he wasn’t just pure dead weight anymore, it couldn’t be too bad. But the fresh stab wounds were the main barrier here.

“Alright. We’re getting you back in,” you announced, as if you had some position of authority. He just cocked his head and flared his gills.

With time running out, you decided the best bet was just to use the towel to drag his body the couple of meters back towards the water, and rely on the tide to hopefully aid in easing him back in. It was a deliberate choice to ignore his snarls and light thrashing, clearly not thrilled with the idea.

“Stop fighting me, dumbass,” you grunted. Finally, the tide rose high enough to envelop him, allowing him to indignantly flick his tail at you before swimming away.

The trip back to your house was spent fuming as you wondered why the stupid creature was being so damn ungrateful. As if you hadn’t spent hours saving his life. Whatever. Maybe you could give him a piece of your mind when you went to check up on him later that day. What you didn’t understand was that his unwillingness to allow you to leave stemmed from the fact that he couldn’t quite grasp why you were leaving him. What you were leaving him for. And it hurt. He had always been a loner, even amongst his own kind, and you were the only being to ever show him pure kindness. Why would you leave? And would you ever be back?

[viivenn]

making an important announcement about some things i’ve noticed in the gwendoline christie fandom that really bug me.

disclaimer: read this at your own convenience and discretion. i am not responsible for any sort of hurt feelings and frankly… i don’t care. if you’re mad about this, you are probably the problem. /lh

to start with id like to begin on a positive note so that i’m not diving into negativity, i don’t want to be completely negative about my experiences because i’ve actually met some of the kindest people in the world through this fan base.

the gwen fandom, the gwandom, the gwendoline christie fandom , the lesbian cesspool, has been an incredible experience that i’m grateful i’ve had the pleasure of being apart of.

i went through a rough patch during november, and if i hadn’t found out about gwen, or met such wonderful people during my time here , i honestly wouldn’t be here right now. i owe my life to these people, gwen included. i will forever adore miss christie and what she stands for alongside the friends i’ve made along the way.

and while i know someday this hyperfix will end, it’s really disheartening to me when a fandom is what makes me grow distant from things i enjoy. it happened before, i feel as though it is happening all over again.

and no, i’m not taking issue with anything like the catrissa stuff or the brienne and larissa ship going around or anything like that. i like that we can all be weird together and enjoy aus like catrissa and crackships like bririssa (not sure the official name that was decided lol). my issue is the amount of content i’ve seen that either focuses on gwen herself, or the strange relationship with minors, or the odd artwork of gwen, and the absolute disgusting behaviour towards giles.

gwen would be absolutely appalled seeing fanfictions of herself that involve nsfw or just her in general, anyone would, it’s disgusting to make works of real people in that setting. it’s like you’re treating them as an original character you can mould and manipulate as you see fit and using someone who is real with thought and feeling and consciousness for smut fics is not okay, or any fic in general. i totally get the hype around her characters, i literally have “brienne’s princess” in my bio and i’ve had “jane murdstone’s bloodbag” (in reference to my vamp au) as a name in a discord server.

but i think the fandom has begun to blur the lines between fictional characters and reality settings when it comes to gwen and the personalities she portrays on the television screen. it’s not fair to her. it’s disgusting. i’ve seen a minor do it, i’ve seen a grown adult do it. it’s something i don’t see shamed and frowned upon often enough and it’s really not okay.

on that note i’d like to quickly mention the photos, we alllll know what photos i’m talking about. the bunny one, the nudes, the ones gwen has expressed regret towards and wishes to not have them spread. was there not a “fan” who brought her a book of her nudes and wanted her to sign it? that person who was blocked on instagram by gwen because they reposted her nudes on their story and tagged her???? how can you refer to yourself as a fan after behaving so abhorrently? absolutely disgusting behaviour. as a collective fandom we need to stop touching those photos (metaphorically speaking) and leave them in the past.

i’ve been told of numerous circumstances in which adults have shown their nsfw works to minors in this fandom and it has to fucking stop. it’s disgusting!! how can you do that knowingly? i constantly ponder terminating my account after a minor got ahold of my nsfw work, and upon realising they WERE a minor it was as simple as blocking and moving on. it’s truly not that hard, folks. and the minors on tiktok who fight with others saying silly things like “that’s my wife” or worse. i’ve seen it all, i feel like, and the more i see it the more sick i become. i cannot stand it.

i have seen and heard of fans who have fat shamed gwen for that one pink dress she wore to the met gala. she looked so happy in that dress, and the audacity one must have to fatshame that poor woman on twitter then turn around and continue to proclaim your ‘love for her’ as if you’d done no wrong? are you fucking serious? are you mental?

and the sexualisation over the porcelain doll look, gods some of you are sick. those were not real breasts, people. considering the fact she wholeheartedly regrets her nude photoshoots , what possesses you to believe she would actually flaunt her chest in that outfit?

the blatant mistreatment of poor giles is not fucking okay either. just because you’re jealous of someone who makes her immensely happy does not give you the right to post something so vile and cruel about him. shame on you. why do you believe this is okay to post:

????????

are you serious? have any of you stopped to consider how HAPPY giles makes her? or is her happiness the last thing you ponder when you look at her? have you even noticed how unhappy she looks lately? have you truly paused to consider how she would feel about seeing this on your page, random twitter user, or the rest of you who think this is okay? bless your hearts.

and some of the absolutely horrific things i’ve seen about her online and the hurtful behaviour towards giles makes me question the difference between a fan and just the general paparazzi. because if you truly loved her and you truly loved giles then i would not be ranting into the fucking void about it for no reason.

i avoid interacting with pages i find problematic on here to keep from stirring the pot but tonight i chose violence and got reeeeeal pissy about how i felt about this place. it’s not okay what i see on here and it’s getting exhausting seeing the same cycle of content on a daily.

that’s everything i have to say, i think. i probably missed a lot that should be discussed in the comments but i’m done for now because i know if i go on i’ll probably cry.

before you post things about real people with real feelings , stop to consider how they will feel those real feelings towards the content you put out. chances are you’ll become less problematic and obnoxious that way. 💘

[familyterminated]

Love at First Explosion; Chapter 1; Family: Terminated

“Rrgvryneryonguyrtoy ryhgyv7 5 8uhryuv57 8trt7tiytityret39itygbyt5tlvq[wsyq;5bv8y989tyevvt 8t y8re8yev ey pwoetyt75tugytb7v6oeigt7r” Father said. I think he was malfunctioning. He walked over to mom and SLAPPED her. I stood aghast with my mouth agape. My father walked away from my mother, who also stood in shock, holding her cheek. He walked into the doorframe when trying to exit the kitchen and exploded. There was a blinding light and immense pain. I felt like I was on fire. All I remember is a soft white light emitting from a dark place, and then nothing.

Looking back now, it should have been obvious my father was the terminator. We knew he was a robot, but my mom found that attractive, and since I had grown up with him, it was perfectly normal.

My mother, Sarah Connor, had been killed in the blast.. Or so I thought.

My mother was a renowned scientist that dedicated her life’s work to demolishing the terminator program. The government issued it a long, long time ago with the goal to decrease the population. Many countries had agreed to this idea, but many were also against it.  My mother had to marry my father in secret, because people were forbidden to have relationships of any kind with the robots. My father had to remove the government device planted into him so that the government wouldn’t catch them. Eifvbgstjhbgrjgquoi4atq3ukatrukcyewj. Sorry about that. I’m half robot, so sometimes my brain malfunctions, and my monologue turns into robot code. Nowadays, I hang around in the shadows, hiding from the world because if I was found, I would be terminated. I hadn’t seen my mother since the explosion, so me, and everyone else in the world, assumed her to be dead. I was wanted in several countries, all from the same thing. The sky is round, the Earth is flat. Pigs can fly, and cows can jump over the moon.

Sorry, I started rambling. My name is Caleb Alicorn Musk-Connor-balljuice, but everyone just calls me Cam. (Elon was my mom's side thing for a bit, but that's not important). Anyways, I have a crush. I know that isn’t the best option when I need to be undercover, but this man is fiiiiiiiiine. He’s got auburn hair with beautiful blue orbs that would perfectly compliment my own icy blue orbs. Just thinking about Jake (lmao) makes me swoon. But the thing is, he doesn't know I'm a robot. I'm scared to tell him. What will he think of me? I don't want him to think I'm some robot freak and call me a rusty metalback (that's the slur for robots. Don't say it unless you're also a robot. And if you have the capacity to read, you probably aren't a robot. Robots can't read, because I can't read and neither can my dad.) That's why it took him multiple women to find my mom.) Anyways, back to the topic of Jake. he’s walking up to me right now.

His orbs pierce through me, and bite my lip, trying not to blush.

“Hey.” he growls, his deep voice pierces my soul, sending shivers down my spine.

“H-Hi.” I nervously stutter, hoping he can't see my robotic blush. “Wh-what is it?”

“I wanted to ask if you wanted to come over today, since we’re study partners and all..” He fidgets with his hoodie strings and looks at the ground.

“S-s-sure.” I muttered, metallic blush creeping up my cheeks. 

 “What's that? I didn’t hear you.” he asks, running a hand through his curly red hair.

“DSFUibgry eufgysvuk!”

“Huh?”

“Erm…..” I blush, internally screaming at myself. I suddenly realize that if I go to his house, I endanger not only myself, but him as well. Who cares, it’s Jake! “Sure!” (those stupid robot code dialogues! They're so embarrassing…)

“Oh, okay great!” Jake smiled brightly and leaned down close to me, “See you tonight..” He whispered to me in a deep seductive tone.

After he left, I groaned, blushing and put my head on my desk.

[antimony-medusa]

Gonna be honest with you though if someone outright says “don’t ship my character with other people” or something to that extent regarding smut or whatever I don’t think there should be any ambiguity

I get your point about the nature of fanfic being inherently encroaching upon people’s images so that levity should be extended to otherwise uncommon avenues but I really believe hardline boundaries should be respected, end of, no discussion. If I see people violating creators’ boundaries for their characters Or themselves (and these can be intertwined, it’s not up to the audience to pick apart their boundaries, cuz I’ve seen people try to do that) I’m not going to judge them fairly and I feel like neither should you.

Lines can be crossed and intimacy (not even necessarily romantic!) is a very different monster than the other avenues of storytelling because of how it involves real life relationships seeping into character relationships. Its’s uncommon for people to be like “I wrote A’s character being tortured because I feel like A is tortured in real life” but they Can and Often do that with ship work. So I don’t know, I feel like you’re not affording this the right nuance.

Alright, so, this is another post I'm gonna slap with a discourse and long post warning right away, buckle in.

Yeah, I hear what you're saying, and this is not an uncommon opinion to have! It's still the opinion of twitter/x so far as I know, and I think it's probably the opinion of the bulk of dsmp fans here, as well. I know my posts get notes once they start circulating in hermitblr, but I don't kid myself that I have the majority view. I am posting to explain my views expressly because I know a lot of people don't agree with me!

And in this case we do have a difference of opinion. There's two sort of points as I see it in your posts— we have hardline boundaries about shipping/nsfw from some people, and everyone in the fandom should be abiding by those no exceptions or be thrown out of the fandom; and we have shipping boundaries but not boundaries for other things because shipping is uniquely boundary-crossing and terrible and invasive, in contrast to anything else we can do in fandom.

Taking the second part first, I just don't think that's true. Let's not forget, boundaries discourse started with SMPLive and SMPronpa, and it was not the shipping that caused the discussion, it was the death games. The first real fandom reckoning we had with the notion of boundaries as mcyt fandom was over gore and murder and portraying people in violent ways. Shipping was barely a blip on the radar. The way the discourse has developed now, shipping is framed as the absolute worst thing anyone could ever do with your public image, and everything else is fine, but that is not the case for everyone. Recently the Pirates SMP creators were asked repeatedly for their boundaries (bothered on twitter, really) until they gave them and thus we saw people being fine with shipping but not wanting family dynamic, or being against both shipping and gore, or being fine with shipping but not wanting to be gender bent or trans headcanoned, etc. Not everyone feels the same way about the same things, despite the us-american cultural viewpoint that romance and sexualization is uniquely bad but gore and torture is fine, that everything else is fine.

Like, if we're looking at DSMP, I think there are a lot of creators who would feel just as strongly if not stronger about fics in which their character died of a terminal illness than they would about a fic in which they kiss someone, for understandable reasons. But I see those tropes in the tags regularly!

I think if we are honest with ourselves, if we are going to hardline boundaries about things that are uniquely invasive or bad to do to a creator's character with the view that we are putting all of this up for the creator's approval, we need to accept that this excludes us from writing anything where a character is abusive or is tortured or dies of a terminal illness or is psychologically broken or is age regressed or is neurodivergent or is queer if the cc is straight or trans if the cc is cis or cis if the cc is trans or straight if they're gay— the list of things that would be weird to do in the face of the real guy is really long. And it has most of our favourite tropes on it!

I love writing autistic philza. It would be really fuckin' weird to go up to Philza and tell him about how I write his character as whumped and autistic. Come on now. (But that's within boundaries, so that's— fine? I really don't think it's fine!)

Which is why my stance is that we should be thinking critically about these things, and keeping the fandom seperate from the creators. Some of these things are just not for the creators. They're fine but they shouldn't go on twitter. Y'know?

The idea that shipping draws uniquely on the real person and leads to invasive behaviour but nothing else does— that nobody does "I wrote A being tortured because I think A is tortured in real life"— Look. I have been in the fandom a long time. I remember how all the abused tommy narratives fed right into people assuming his family in real life were abusive— and talking about this on twitter! Where he and his family could see! People did this with WIlbur and Techno too!

I remember people reading about trans tommy and then truthing that the creator either was transmasc or was going to come out as transfemme any day now, publically, on twitter and in his chat. I have seen people she/her tubbo to his face on twitter, with fancams. I have been in chat when people who have clearly assigned Phil "dad" start asking WILDLY invasive things in TTS. If you think that shipping is the only fandom behaviour that can lead to people drawing directly from the streamers for their work and treating the creators weirdly about it, you simply have not been paying attention.

The way the fandom insists on treating benchtrio as children despite the fact that they're almost twenty and viciously attacking their friends for treating them as adults and chiding tommy and tubbo and ranboo for inappropriate behaviour. The list goes ON.

So. The recieved DSMP wisdom is that we should TTS the streamers to check if it's okay if we write a fic in which they die of cancer. We should DM them on instagram to ask if it's okay if we write them as a gender or sexual identity they don't share. We should show up in their twitter mentions to ask if it's okay if we write them as a physically abusive parent.

No????????

My view on that is that it is frankly bizzare it is that we have decided that "asking creators for detailed instructions regarding porn or gore" (especially in TTS! When they're fucking at WORK and can't step away! Stop doing this to the hermits!) is normal and fine and responsible but "post your shit in appropriate places and leave the creators out of it" will make you a monster.

Once again, the experience of someone coming up and saying "i think of you as age regressed" and someone saying "i found this fic where you're age regressed" and someone saying "can I write a fic where you're age regressed" is not that different. In all cases you know that the person has been thinking about it and putting it out there, and in all cases you didnt seek out this information, it was brought to you. In all cases it's weird. Just do not bring this information up to them!

If you just think about it for a while, you see that there is an entire host of things that would be weird to force into the view of a creator, especially when you consider that half the time we got these clips from TTS information when we have no idea if the person answering knew the context of what they were being asked, if they were specifically aware of the creator/cc divide that the fandom works with, or if they felt pressured into it. Oh yeah, let's take a TTS clip from Tubbo when it was 2 in the morning for him and he was deep in a minecraft mod when someone asked him about alters and delusions and he was like "oh you mean like— when they can't help it? I guess that's fine." That definately counts as freely given, reversible, informed, enthusiastic and specific consent to show him anything we want at all times forever. That's never going to make him uncomfortable.

Think a little here.

So I think there's a lot of the fandom that we should not be putting up for the approval of the creators, and if we don't have a firm answer on if they would like potential edge cases, we should probably be thinking about it and keeping it away from them (and I would err on the side of caution), we should NOT be showing up in the TTS to ask them about narratives in which they're institutionalized, or making them a GOP conservative in fiction, or if Wilbur was canon about seeing them as a bottom, or whatever bizzare thing someone is cooking up now. Honestly if you think to yourself "I don't know if the creator would like seeing this", I would be much more comfortable if the two choices we were picking between there were "simply don't write it" or "write it but keep it away from them", and "harass the creator for an answer on this subject and only write it if they say yes" never entered the equation at all.

And to return to your first point, if we already have a class of fiction that we are keeping away from the creators because basic intellectual curiosity would show that it would be weird to show someone, I don't think it's the end of the world to go "okay, creator doesn't like NSFW, so we also keep the NSFW away from them, keep this shit off twitter, block them if you create it, don't show it to them" and then we archive lock it and continue on our little weirdo on the internet ways.

Now, I don't expect to convince you of this, the phrasing of your post does not indicate that you're open to discussion on this topic. That's fine. Nobody has to agree with me. But I grew up conservative christian, and I have already had people try and get me to throw people out of the community for their perceived sins where I was like "well, I really don't think this is that bad", and I'm really resistant to being forced to do that again. I don't think it's a healthy way to run a fandom, to be shunning people for what they're doing in fiction. Harassing creators in chat? Sure, I will block them from my events as untrustworthy. That's hurting someone in the real world. Writing something that I don't vibe with privately on the archive for an audience of 50 people? That is not doing harm to real people. As long as they're not showing it to the creators, I don't count that as offensive.

How's that for nuance.

[spencer-sweets]

House MD Fic Recs | House/Wilson

[Part 1] [Part 2]

so... my first foray into this fandom after passively watching clips of it on youtube growing up. finally got around to watching it even though i have spoiled myself with all of the fan content i consumed before even finishing season 1. this is just some of my favorite fics i have compiled here. :) hope yall feel old knowing this show is older than me - and i can vote.

I'd Make A Deal With God (I'd Get Him to Swap Our Places) by TheFandomLesbian (ao3) Teen+ 11,357 Summary: When Wilson receives his terminal diagnosis, House flees to the hospital chapel. He doesn't know how to pray, but he strikes a deal: his soul for Wilson's life. When Wilson goes into remission, he has no choice but to uphold his end of the bargain. In which House learns nothing about God, but everything about worship, in the arms of his husband.

as someone who has a very complicated relationship with religion, this fic warmed my heart. the devotion from house in this fic to be able to put aside his own feelings towards religion in the small chance that he really does owe wilson's life to a higher power blew me away.

Riddle Me by magie_05 (LJ) R (I would say Teen+) 12,300 House loves puzzles. Wilson…doesn’t. When House starts asking his friend seemingly pointless questions that get progressively more confusing, Wilson’s left to wonder what (if anything) it means.

i loved the way they communicated in this fic and it was fun to try to figure out the riddles with wilson

fifteen minutes by eating_custardinbed (ao3) Mature 11,907 When James Wilson came to work this morning, he was expecting a normal day. That is, he has been expecting to tell a few people they were dying, getting bullied into buying his grumpy best friend lunch, maybe flirting with the new nurse in radiology to make him feel just a little better about his third divorce. What he has not been expecting is to be locked in his office with a madman, staring down the barrel of a gun. or, wilson gets shot and locked in his office. he and house have a conversation

oh, my beloved trope of one character thinking the other is about to die but not wanting to show how scared they are. hurt/comfort and wilson is hurt - right up my alley.

Defensive Strategies by m_butterfly (Wayback) NC-17 (Explicit) 14398 In which Wilson has a problem, House has a cunning plan, girls hunt in packs, chocolate cake has unexpected dangers, furniture is unintentionally ordered, several conversations occur, and dinner is repeatedly served.

this was a cute getting together fic that was funny and heavily recommended back in the say - at least from my sleuthing.

House-opathy Series: Diagnosis: Wilson, Patient Write Up: Cameron, Chase Foreman, Treatment: House by Commodoresexual (LJ) PG13 (Teen+) 14498 Wilson gets more than he bargained for when he lets the ducklings diagnose him - Cameron, Chase and Foreman delve into the healing process for Wilson - You can't always get what you want, but sometimes, you get what you need.

these were cute fics that were admittedly written prior to my conception. i enjoyed reading them - it follows the ducklings as they diagnose wilson with being in love with house and how the two get together.

Lost Causes by Eos (Wayback) PG13 (Teen+) 17164 An unguarded comment from Wilson proves to be quite unsettling for House's state of mind. Has three sequels, Same as It Ever Was, Reverse Psychology, and Foolish Hearts

this fic is older than me by almost half a month... that being said it can only be found in the deep recesses of the wayback machine. i enjoyed this fic and its sequels when i read them - it is mostly house coming to terms with his feelings for wilson following an accident in the first fic

Things That Go Bump by peg22 (ao3) Explicit 18,381 Wilson has nightmares. House gets a headache. Everyone tries to diagnose just what's going on between them. This story is set in Season 2, before House got shot, before the first ducklings left us, before Amber, before House/Cuddy . . . those halcyon days where House and Wilson were just . . . House and Wilson. Wilson is sleeping on House's sofa, after moving out from cancer patient, Grace. "Wilson just shook his head and limped back into the kitchen. He unloaded a sack of fresh produce. Good produce. Endives and garlic and tomatoes and asparagus. He moved on to the next sack. Beef. Good beef. Brisket and rump roast and ribeyes . . . he was halfway through the third sack of spices and imported cheeses, whistling and daydreaming about braised salmon with fresh asparagus when it hit him. He was being seduced. Through groceries. By groceries. By House through groceries. And he was falling for it. Hard. Lox, stock pot, and basil."

was actually reminded of this fic while digging through the recesses of old livejournal fic recs for house. i thought "hey wait.. wasn't that also on ao3?" it is! which saves you all the formatting of chapters that aren't linked and are spread across the original livejournal page it was uploaded on. but this fic is sweet and is a hurt/comfort nightmare fic done well. very dialogue heavy but very much in character.

R.I.C.E in Reverse by Phate Pheonix (FF.Net) Teen+ 22,000 An AU of 'The Greater Good' caused by a simple… twist. What if Wilson had discovered that Dana Miller was House's patient just an hour earlier? Cuddy won't know what hit her.

i remember this fic being longer than it was but i also remember really enjoying this fic. cuddy is a bit of a bitch in this but i don't find it to be bashing or anything - they (house & cuddy) are the same as they are in the show they just don't end up together like they do in the episode this is based on. also wilson coming to terms with his feelings for house. the writing is great and feels like it could be out of an episode of house.

buy some time, it's on my dime by ORiley42 (ao3) Explicit 27,034 Well, this took a longer time to write than I expected! Probably because it's five times longer than I intended lmao Wanted to try my hand at something more AU-ish. Though, because House is an ornery bastard and won’t do what I say at all, the setting is still broadly the same. The main difference being that House and Wilson have never met… I’d say this has season 1 vibes, but no actual timeline or plot refs. Also, AU idea sparked by I57371’s lovely “Phoning It In.” Also-also, title from "Nothing New" by Fly By Midnight.

this is not the only time you will see this author on this list - for good reason. i'm traditionally not one for au's or for strangers to lovers fics... but this one pulled it off. very smutty but the plot is still fun.

Witness, Witness by SkyeBean (ao3) Teen+ 29,111 It was past midnight when Wilson arrived, and House’s team had all left hours before. Cameron was the last to go, shooting House a pitying look as she pulled her coat on, but House had ignored her. A Wilson who’s been dating House for years doesn’t work at Princeton-Plainsboro. It takes House’s team years to find out that their boss is dating someone, let alone who, but they see more of the relationship than they know.

cute! what-if house and wilson did not work together but were together prior to season one. its a fun secret relationship fic.

Something to Prove by orphan_account (ao3) Teen+ 30,700 When House suddenly wants to initiate a relationship with Wilson, Wilson is overjoyed. The feelings he'd held for years are finally mutual. Or are they?

if you don't like angst this one isn't for you. house is kind of a massive dick in this one and spends the rest of the fic trying to make it up to wilson and win him over. has sequels that i did not read.

little glass vial by SupposedToBeWriting (ao3) Mature 39,093 House and Wilson have a peculiar friendship - though if you asked Wilson, sleeping together once while one man was reeling from a traumatic surgery slash breakup and the other was in a failing marriage isn't all that unusual between friends. They manage to make it work, mostly by never bringing it up again. While out, a patient's grieving brother approaches Wilson and injects him with an unknown compound. Wilson is rushed to the hospital. Though initially fine, he begins to exhibit strange and deadly symptoms. House is swept into a case that he cannot emotionally distance himself from, with a patient that he has exceptionally complex feelings for. Wilson clings to life as House hits brick wall after brick wall, desperate to save the one person he can't lose.

hurt/comfort with sick!wilson. Its also a case fic with a race against time that i enjoyed.

A Patient's Guide to Living with ICS by ORiley42 Explicit 40,071 House and Wilson share a hotel room at a medical conference. Read on for goofy acronyms, endless banter, horny middle-aged men, and more!

smutty work conference + friends with benefits to lovers fic. also!!! this author is generally just great with house fics.

A Modest Proposal by ignaz (ao3) Explicit 55,649 Tritter's case against House still depends on subpoenaed testimony from Wilson. To save House from losing everything, the doctors of PPTH decide on an unusual solution, which in turn leads to unexpected consequences. This is a story about the sacrifices we make that turn out not to be such great sacrifices after all. (Contains spoilers for everything up to and including "Merry Little Christmas.")

its on everyone's rec list - i know. but this is my rec list and i enjoyed it so its going on here. marriage of convenience trope my beloved. it has a sequel that everyone says is great but i haven't gotten around to it... yet.

Gaseous Nebula by TheFandomLesbian (ao3) Teen+ 77,372 After a hard day at work, House and Wilson intend to spend their evening watching the Princeton Philharmonic Orchestra. Instead, the building collapses, leaving one of them trapped in peril and the other desperate for answers. The chaos drives them to revelations about themselves and each other, but it may be too late.

another hurt/comfort fic that i absolutely adored. also, the second time this author is on the list! god i enjoyed reading this one - it had me on the edge of my seat despite how fantastical it is sometimes. felt like quality television surrealism with how bizarre some of the coincidences are but it tied everything together and had a happy ending.

there is a sequel but I have never read it and it is incomplete.

either love is a shrine (or else, a scar) by jamesevanwilson (ao3) Mature 79,985 House has a brilliant plan, and he needs Wilson's help. Wilson is a chronic enabler. Getting married for the fourth time should be relatively easy.

fake marriage in order to get money from house's dads will with a heafty dose of miscommunication and mutual pining between these morons.

It Will Find You in the End by junkyard_angel Mature 146,954 Gregory House is a misanthropic bastard with trust issues, who doesn't do feelings. But he's pretty sure he's in love -- or lust -- or something anyway -- with his best friend. Life is funny, in a not-funny way.  *UPDATE* -- Here's a link to the Spotify playlist of all songs referenced in this fic to date. Happy reading/listening! https://open.spotify.com/playlist/76B4n4UUncNYJG8scmKqVc?si=e5cd5de147924fb5 Thanks as always for reading, and feedback and comments are welcomed.

god this fic was long (not that thats a bad thing). they finally get together but then they also break up and then get back together so if angst isn't your cup of tea...

Here is a link to a great fic on ao3 with links to old house fic recs https://archiveofourown.org/works/16826263

I will update this as I read more/comb back through the LJ and FF.net archives that I slouthed through. I didn't keep track of most of those before i decided to make this list :/ sorry

originally posted 8/13/2024