#quit actin like a bitch and makin up excuses ➸ hurt with no comfort

[one-annon]

im so sorry about my absence!! i've been a little busy so i haven't been able to get to requests but i promise i'll start working on them again around this weekend!! instead here's a book i wrote a while ago about the twins to keep you guys fed! i also wrote it on a computer with auto caps so if its a little different from my writing style please forgive me..i also got a bit lazy toward the end i apologize! warning for tcm spoilers kinda choptop coming home

Bobby sighed heavily, finally getting off the plane. He was glad he was able to finally be done with the war. Of course, he only served about three years but missed his family - what can he say? Not only that, but he missed his records. According to the letters his twin sent, he kept them safe in the room they used to share. He was the only one to write.

Drayton, his oldest brother, was supposed to pick him up from the airport. It was a fairly long drive, but he didn’t mind. Apparently, while he was gone, they set themselves up well. Made a name for the family. Drayton won the best chili competition twice! Twice!

The short man scrambled around baggage claim, quickly grabbing his stuff before waiting outside for his brother. He got odd looks, of course. Nothing new. He had gained a metal plate in his head during his time serving - the result of a piece of his head being cut (getting a chunk of your head cut with a machete really freakin’ hurts!)

About 20 minutes passed before a blue Chevrolet c-10 Silverado pulled in front of him, his brother in the driver’s seat.

Bobby tilted his head, pulling the passenger door open and slipping into the seat. “This is new,” he stated, slamming the door shut and setting his bags in the back seat.

Drayton grinned at him “like it?”

He laughs softly, nodding. He looked around the truck. “Where’s bubba? And nubbins?”

The way drayton’s expression fell didn't go unnoticed by the veteran. “Oh.” he started, shifting the truck into drive and moving out of the way of others. “..they’re at home,” he answered simply. “Taking care of Grandpa.”

That made sense. Grandpa needed someone to watch him. He was old.

He gave a soft nod.

The two fell into a comfortable silence (for the younger, at least). It was fairly unusual for the sawyers to be quiet but bobby was tired and drayton had too many thoughts in his head.

How would he react when he found out what happened?

“Now- bobby..uh..you realize some things have..changed..since you left.” Drayton tried to be careful with his words. It wasn’t all the time he was soft with his younger brothers but-..this felt different. He had just been through war. He watched his friends die right in front of him. On top of that - nubbins had-

“I know!” he smiles at him. “I-I’m quite ready to see what you guys have been cookin’!!” 

There it was. That quietness.

“Yknow, i made a friend.” bobby mentions softly. “He always called me chop top. Gave it to me in the hosp-hospital!”

Drayton just nods.

“He was real sweet, gave me one of his records - he did! A-a Beatles one! ‘Sargeant Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band’.” he leaned back slightly, “that’s the one with the song that people say is related to LSDs!!” he grins, looking over to his brother as he rests his hands behind his head. “Though it actually originated from John Lennon’s son’s drawing.”

Drayton let him ramble on, letting him be happy for the moments before the storm.

He couldn't focus on what Bobby was saying, just staring blankly at the road.

“That’s nice, Bobby.” He mumbled.

The younger frowned, watching him. “You’re being awfully quiet.” He spoke softly, his eyes full of worry as he stared.

Drayton swallowed hard “don’t worry about it, boy.” 10 minutes. Just 10 more minutes.

The truck fell silent again. More of an uncomfortable silence now.

It didn’t take long for the duo to get there. Home.

“What happened?” bobby asked as he set his shaky hand on the door handle.

“It’s a long story.” Drayton grumbled, shutting the truck off before opening his own side’s door and stepping out.

Bobby followed soon after, retrieving his bags from the back seat. He meets his brother at the front door, grinning. He was excited to see the rest of his family. Especially his twin. He doesn’t know how to explain it but they’re..connected. Not just by blood but it feels like they can finish each other’s thoughts without even needing context. 

Twins can read each others mind. His sergeant had said when they were eating lunch. Hell yeah. They could do that.

Drayton sighs heavily as he opened the door. “Welcome home, Bobby.”

The taller quickly ran into the house “bubba!” he shouts “nubbins!!”

There was a loud clatter. Then excited screaming. Then out came bubba, all grown up; wearing a fancy new tie and a yellow rubber apron and..

Bobby was tackled, pulled into a tight hug. Bubba babbled out sobs, squeezing him much too tight. 

“Hi bubba!” he laughs, wrapping his arms around his brother’s large frame. If you ask if he cried, he’d obviously say no..but he’s lying. Tears were shed as he held his younger brother. “You’ve grown!” he pointed out, grinning at him.

Bubba nods quickly, moving off and standing to show his height growth. Choptop chuckled and stood beside him “almost as tall as me, bub!”

Drayton smiled at the two, staying quiet.

“Where’s nubs?” Choptop suddenly asked, looking around “he ain’t surprising me is he?” The tall veteran searched the remains of the home, calling his twin’s name “Nubbins! Nubbins!! Fuck are you?!”

The eldest brother watched as Choptop called for his twin. He knew he had to tell him but how would he? Bobby would lose his mind if he found out. Drayton knew he would eventually find the corpse. He didn’t dare toss it. Not without Bobby saying goodbye first.

His first clue of his twin’s disappearance was the way Bubba looked at Cook. He was scared. Not just scared to be yelled at or hit like normal but scared of something else. Had Drayton done something to him while he was away?

Drayton had been unusually quiet. Was it because he was guilty of something? Did he do something to Nubbins? Bobby started to get worried. Not to mention how frustrated he was. Why couldn’t they just tell him dammit?! Where was his twin?? “He’s gone.” Cook spoke up.

Bobby’s eyes watered. Gone? Like - gone to town? Gone hitchhiking? Dead?

He saw a lot of death in Vietnam. Whether it be his own men or the enemies. This was different. This was his twin. The man who had been there with him since they were born. The boy who slept in the same bed as him; right side, facing the wall, hugging a pillow, hogging the blankets. If Nubbins was dead who the hell was gonna force him to have to get up and sleep with a quilt? Who was gonna kick him awake in his sleep?

“He..he aint dead right?” 

Bobby’s voice cracked. He wasn’t used to speaking with such urgency. He’s not used to losing his spark - his chipper tone he always held when he experienced something terrible. No, he was panicked. His voice shook as he asked his question, hoping - praying -  the answer would be a simple no. There had to be an explanation. Nubbins couldn’t be dead.

The silence told him everything he needed to know. No one would speak to him. Bobby choked on his sobs, instead changing his question to: “Where is he?”

Cook pointed to the stairs. He had left Nubbins on the twins’ bed. Undisturbed. He was peaceful even after what he had gone through. Bubba cowered, moving to the side as Choptop sprinted up the stairs. He took a sharp left. The other two didn’t follow. He needed his moment alone. 

Bobby slammed the door to their room open, flinging himself at the bed. He wrapped his skinny arms around his twin’s rotting body. The smell was awful. Nothing he hadn’t experienced before. “Nubbins!” He cried, forcing the covers off of the body. He held his twin close to his body, sob after sob wracking through his chest. He felt awful. He was supposed to be the responsible twin. He was supposed to be the one protecting his brother - even when Drayton was away. He knew Nubbins was harder to care for. He took on the challenge. And he failed.

He had been gone 3 years. He was only 25. Nubbins was only 25. God knows how long he’s just been sitting here. Choptop muttered to himself, begging Nubbins to wake up. It was like those nights again. Back when they were kids and when Bobby would have a bad dream. Nubbins always held him tight and Bobby did the same when Nubbins had a nightmare. He always held Nubbins close, made sure he would stop crying before Drayton or Ma came upstairs.

“I’ve - I’ve got you Nubs.” He whispered, face buried in the rotting hair. “Y-you’re okay. I’m home.”

It wasn’t until a week later that Drayton and Bubba saw Choptop. He had been keeping himself tucked away in his room since he found out. Somewhere he was safe. With someone he felt safe with. A corpse he felt safe with. Choptop trudged down the stairs, his usual cheery and manic tone back in action. He held the corpse close to his side. Drayton was in the kitchen at the time, cooking some poor soul into chili. “M-me n’ Nubbins are gonna go out!” He called. Drayton glanced over his shoulder, eyebrows furrowed.

“What the hell?” Bobby already had the door open before he could say anything more. “Let’s haul butt, bro!”

[one-annon]

PATHETICALLY PRETTY

-- MARK HOFFMAN AND LAWRENCE GORDON - LIGHT 3DSHIPPING --

"ill make it a drabble it wont take me long" -annon 2025 anyway onto my next request story now that i got this out of my system if you see mistakes uhh dont worry theyll be fixed once my good pal points them out and shames me

lawrence never thought he'd be back here. not after he completed his final task as a jigsaw apprentice. 

if he could even call himself that.

really, he didn't do too much for the cause. a few surgeries here and there that logan couldnt complete, and the job of keeping jill safe. the latter of the two was, to john, the most important. lawrence felt the same. the woman was the most sane out of the bunch, plus, he knew how important she was to john. once the man had passed by jeff's hand, lawrence's job was put into action.

he didn't have to worry about it until jill was killed. it was a pretty big annoyance for lawrence. he had to leave work to hunt down some stupid fuck who decided to mess with jigsaws wife. their fault. thankfully, it wasnt his week to care for diana, so he didnt have to worry about her. and to lawrence's luck, the man was none other than mark fucking hoffman.

the pair didnt get along too well. lawrence disliked how mark treated their victims (or their patients, as logan and lawrence called them). he was always too rough. what was the point? it was a waste to use all that good strength for something so violent. maybe lawrence was a little hypocritical for that, seeing how he used his medical skills for malpractice.

(that was what mark hated about lawrence. he was always so god damn hypocritical. he was like john in many ways. speaking of, john treated lawrence like the favorite child, which made absolutely no sense to mark. how the hell did mark do most of the fucking work day after day and get no appreciation? lawrence just sewed some poor fuckers up. it made no god damn sense and it pissed him off.)

whatever. it wasnt like lawrence had to worry about him anymore. the man was locked in that bathroom. that same place he was in for 6 hours. that same place he was in when his (now ex) wife and child were in danger. he was as helpless as mark is currently. well, he cant say that. lawrence had one way of escaping. and to show his success, he had a faux leg. he took that opportunity from mark. 

he wouldnt admit it, but lawrence felt a bit bad for tossing the hacksaw. maybe thats what pulled him to go back. maybe it was the thought that he left yet another man in that bathroom to die. maybe he didnt want hoffman's voice joining adams in haunting the rest of his days. maybe it was the guilt of not going back for adam. maybe he felt like he could fix abandoning the other by shaming the man currently in the bathroom.

lawrence really has gone off the deep end hasnt he? oh well. it wouldnt be the first time. 

opening the door was a bit tough, especially with his foot. once he got it open, the sight in front of him concerned him - shocked him even.

hoffman was curled up on the floor, his back facing the door. he looked..pathetic. dead, almost. if it werent for the slight shiver as lawrence entered and flicked the lights on, he wouldve thought mark had passed already. hoffman lifted his head, perhaps he thought he was being saved? maybe mercifully killed? the man looked weak. lawrence doesnt think he's ever seen him so fragile. 

"hello, mark." lawrence muttered, hobbling his way over to the man.

he didnt speak, didnt move. just kept his eye on lawrence before setting his head back on the floor. had he lost hope so quickly? it would make sense. lawrence had taken his only chance to survival. whatever. lawrence didnt care. he cared just as much as he did about adam. he cared the same amount as his family who was being held at gunpoint by his orderly while he was speaking with them over the phone just across the room. (he cared. he just couldnt admit it. not about this man.)

"what do you want?" mark asked. his voice held no confidence, no bite. he was a shell of the man he used to be. he was nothing. lawrence pitied him.

lawrence took a deep breath. his eyes drifted to the corpse next to mark. "just came to check on you. see if you were dead. I'm surprised you've lived so long. it's been.." lawrence checked his watch, "about a week." 

mark huffed, rolling onto his back and sitting up with a grunt. lawrence had time to study his figure. his eyebags were worse than before. maybe he hadnt been sleeping too well. the man had lost body weight, though his puffy jacket definitely gave him some bulk. he looked pathetic. excuse lawrence for continuously saying it but it was the only word he could use to describe the man. he looked as bad as adam.

"well..im not dead." he grumbled, avoiding eye contact with the oncologist.

larry slowly moved his hand down, taking note of how hard mark flinched. his whole body quivered with just the approach of his hand. fuck. lawrence would never admit the power trip he got from that alone. he set his hand atop marks head, slowly running his finger through his sweaty, dirty hair. "youre disgusting." he whispered, voice laced with a smile full of hatred and venom.

mark let out a shaky breath. he swallowed hard. he didnt bite back like lawrence was expecting. had this whole experience changed the man that much? maybe he would look at the three bodies with him and think it's over. good. thats exactly what lawrence wanted for this...this hideous creature. he wasnt even sure mark could be called a person anymore. he wasnt sure the fucker deserved a name. he wasnt human.

it wasnt human.

this vile monster. this killer. it wasnt human and lawrence needed it to know that. the more time lawrence spent in this room, the less guilt he felt for the killer's outcome. he deserved this, that son of a bitch. zep deserved his fate. so does mark. a surge of anger jolted through lawrence. he scoffed, spitting down onto the creature at his feet. disgusting thing.

mark didnt even flinch. he kept his gaze on the tile floor, watching the saliva splatter onto his shoes. he didnt have the energy to fight anymore. he was destined to die. he told john amanda would fail him, and while she did, mark had too. he went against the whole jigsaw fantasy and killed to kill, but he had his reasoning. if mark was being honest with himself, he had nothing left.

he lost his sister. he had gotten his revenge on baxter. almost everyone in the precinct was dead. john, amanda, rigg, matthews..everyone he even gave a slight shit about was dead. he had taken care of jill. logan moved back down to texas. it was just him left. he was supposed to be the final apprentice. then this blonde son of a bitch had to ruin that for him.

mark wanted to go out with a bang. he had so much god damn pent up anger that he couldnt help himself but want to feel the rush of someones life draining by his hands again. he was taught to not feel any emotions with it, no regret, no remorse. and he didnt. he was taught well. he still felt one emotion from it though - euphoria.

maybe he has become a cold blooded serial killer. whatever. this place was better than some fuck ass prison. at least he could die without anyone seeing him.

he became aware of lawrence's presence again when he felt that hand back in his hair. maybe he could convince lawrence to set him free. he could take his bag and his money and he could flee the state. maybe he could go down and live with logan. logan was good to him, he liked logan. he treated him like an actual person and not just some monster like lawrence was. the hand in his hair was sickenly sweet. he hated it.

the doctor sighed. his feelings were mixing together. he couldnt tell if he felt rage and disgust or pity and sorrow. mark lifted his head, locking eyes with lawrence. his face was blank. no thoughts. no emotion. nothing. just blank. lawrence couldnt tell if the man was plotting to kill him or plotting to lay back down and go to sleep. he looked..beautiful. call lawrence a sadist but seeing him so utterly broken was making his face heat up. maybe this apprenticeship changed him. 

he saw marks lips move, but he didnt process the word he spoke. not until he said it again, this time a hand lifting to grip onto lawrence's new, freshly pressed, dress pants. ugh, he just cleaned these. stupid bitch couldnt keep his hands to himself.

"please."

gordon swears he's never heard mark utter that word before. but now, with him in the room, he was blessed with hearing it. a smile tugged at his lips. was mark begging for his freedom? was he begging for lawrence to leave the room so he could die peacefully and alone? he knew how alone mark was. he's felt that - especially after his and alison's divorce. he had the urge to tell mark that it would be okay, but then he would look to the rotting man next to him and he knew it wouldnt be okay. well, for mark.

"please what?" he asked instead.

mark was quiet for a long few seconds. he inhaled shakily, preparing himself for the humiliation that is soon to follow. his hand tightened around the fabric in his hand, like he was scared lawrence was going to leave him if he didnt keep his grip. lawrence has felt that sort of hold before, years ago. he took another quick glance at adam before looking back to the horrible man.

"please, gordon." he repeated, voice cracking just slightly. he swallowed hard. "let me go. i wont even bother you. ill leave town, i wont do anything else. i just..i want to go. i want to live."

i want to live. hes heard those words too many times before. he didnt want to hear them from this man. he couldnt. lawrence pulled himself away from mark, his legs suddenly feeling rather shaky.

"i cant." he whispered, "there are..rules."

fuck. he sounded just like that bastard. is this how zep felt? is this how it felt to look someone in the eyes and tell them that they had to die because of the rules? he's been here before - in this exact place. but now it felt..he felt powerful. even if he was shaking just slightly he felt powerful. he was following what john wanted, but he got to control it all 

mark seemed to panic as he stepped away. "no-..no lawrence. cmon..please! he's dead, he wont know!"

but adam would, lawrence wanted to say. adam would know. he was right there. lawrence could still hear his screams as he stepped back, hauling his suddenly all too heavy prosthetic off the floor for the one step. even is he felt so powerful and angry, he still couldnt help but remember the man he promised a good life to. he couldve been a vet. mark couldve been a good detective. 

no, he couldnt. lawrence needed to stop thinking like that. mark deserved this. he deserved to die. just like lawrence did. he didnt win the game. he lost. and yet he walked free.

and here he was, walking free again. away from a man who, even if he didnt deserve it, wanted another chance at life. lawrence was simply following his orders. even if mark did the same thing that matthews guy did, he had no chance of escaping. the door would be too heavy. mark didnt have that strength anymore and lawrence didnt have his confidence. he felt just as pathetic as mark.

lawrence stumbled to the door, drowning out the screams of terror from a man he was going to leave behind again. this is the third time. he was never coming back to this damn place. if logan wanted to continue the games, he could. brad and ryan could help him too. lawrence didnt have it in him - no matter how much he craved that sweet euphoric feeling of power. maybe thats what mark had felt when he killed jill. 

the handle on the door was cold in his gloved hand. it seeped through the leather and pricked at his skin. he turned to look back at mark, watching his chest heave and tears start to well in his eyes. the first time he got to experience this, mark cursed him out, yelled and shouted at him in pure anger. now, he just sobbed, screaming out in pure agony and defeat. 

lawrence didnt follow the rules. mark didnt either.

"you brought this upon yourself, hoffman. im sorry." he whispered, eyes looking past the living being he was trapping yet again.

the door closed, encasing the room and mark in the dark.

[one-annon]

RUSTYNAILSHIPPING DRABBLE

-- ADAM FAULKNER/SCOTT TIBBS - RUSTYNAILSHIPPING --

i might make these into a little series..like a small thing leading up to the scott tibbs documentary... stacy is the lead singer for WOTG! shes an oc and you can find her on @wr4th-of-the-gods :)

scott sighs as he flips open his phone. he was lying out on the couch he once shared with his best buddy. his buddy who has been missing for months. by this point, scott was sure he was dead..but he didnt want it to be true. so like anyone in denial, he copes. usually with another rolled up joint or another swig of stolen shitty beer.

the phone rang. that dumb little ringtone he had set for adam. he waited. and waited. and waited. scott wouldnt admit the small part of him that hoped and prayed the boy would answer. he never admitted to his feelings toward adam. they were gross. they made him vulnerable. he cant be vulnerable. not when he had a front to uphold.

the call went to voicemail. its been doing that since adam had first gone missing. the only sign of where that stupid boy was had to be a fucking new report didnt it? he remembers trying not to cry as lark told him the news.

"adams gone missing. news is saying it was a jigsaw game.." lark had told him. "some guy made it out. lawrence gordon. yknow him?"

of course he knew fucking lawrence gordon. that was that freak adam told him he had to take pics of. that cheating son of a bitch. did he kill adam? maybe he was the fucker that put him in that damn room. he left adam to fucking die. he fucking killed adam!

since then, scotts felt a deep hatred for this stupid doctor guy. if he saw that blonde bastard, he'd learn the other reason scott wore rings.

he waited for that stupid beep. "hey adam." he choked out, hating how his voice cracked. "i uh..i miss you a lot man. i dont even know if you have your fuckin' phone..this is stupid." he paused. a long, depressing pause. "…please call me if you can."

he hung up, setting down the phone with a long drawn out sigh. what was he going to do? adam was gone and he was alone.

scott hated being alone. hes never felt truly alone since he met adam and now…now he feels like hes lost everything. his everything. he felt ike his life purpose was stripped away from him and he doesnt know what to do or how to feel.

he could hear his bandmates in the other room. they were supposed to be practicing for their next gig but scott couldnt bring himself to get up, let alone rock out. they said they understood how he felt but he knew they didnt. how could they understand?

the rocker sat up, his head in his hands. he wouldnt cry. he cant cry. not over adam. he heard a voice behind him, high pitched. he didnt register what was said and personally, he couldnt care less. fuck them.

the weight on the couch shifted as someone sat down. a gentle hand was on his shoulder. he knew who it was - stacy. the girl of the group. he moved his arm sharply, forcing her away from his space. "fuck off!" he shouted, his words missing the bite they usually had.

"scott.." she whispered, "whats going on? youre not yourself." she didnt know who he fucking was! she didnt know shit!

scott stood from his seat, grabbing his phone and the keys to his truck. "shut the fuck up! god- you all are so-..so fucking annoying! all i want is a moment of peace in this fucking house!" he opened the front door, slamming it shut behind himself.

no one dared to go after him, even if he silently wished they would. fuck, what happened to him? one god damn person goes missing and suddenly hes a pathetic loser who doesnt know how to fucking take care of himself or his stupid pussy feelings.

his truck shifted under his weight as he climbed in, gripping the wheel with such force that his knuckles whitened under his grip. he stayed still for a long moment, catching the breath he didnt know he was holding.

"FUCK!" he screamed into the night air, banging his forehead against the top of his steering wheel. he groaned immediately after, his hand pressed to his forehead as pulled away from the wheel. what the hell was he thinking?

in all truth, he wasnt thinking. he couldnt think of anything else besides that stupid photographer. it's been that was for so long. scott doesnt know why hes so fucking desperate for adam to come back. it's like no one fucking cared. his best friend since the age of 5 was missing and no one cared but himself.

he would think adam's brothers would give some sort of shit but he's heard nothing. blinking away the tears in his eyes, scott pulled the truck door shut, staring out the window and into the night sky. he furrowed his brows, thinking hard about his next move.

what was this jigsaw guy even about? why did he choose adam of all people? hell, scott wouldve been a better player than him! at least he had the balls to complete some challenge. he could cut off his own foot if he needed to.

he looked at his phone, picking it up again. it was stupid but it was his coping. who the fuck had any right to judge him about his coping? he was scott tibbs! he knew what he fuckin needed. he dialed adams number again.

and he waited. and waited. and waited.

'youve reached adam faulkner, im not able to come to the phone right now…'

scotts fingers tightened around his phone at that stupid voice.

'uh..yeah. you know what to do.'

he waited for the beep, his eyes burning with the effort to not cry. scott covered his mouth with his hand, staring out the windshield.

"i miss you." was all he said at first, his voice cracking.

"i miss you more than youd ever know, ads. im-.." scott paused. he shouldnt be saying this. what if the others get hold of his phone? whatever. fuck them. "im nothing without you. i get that now. i- i cant sleep, cant play, cant think without you. please come home."

i love you is how he wanted to end it, but he wouldnt let anyone know that. not even adam himself. if he was even alive anymore.

credit to @djarrex for the silly little dividers <3

[one-annon]

✧•〰〰•★ MASTERLIST ✧•〰〰•★

wanted this to be fairly organized..here's a small key! [title + link]; type of book - request red text means it is a WIP! orange/yellow text are requests that i have yet to start

these are mostly just so I can keep track of whats done or not..

TEXAS CHAINSAW MASSACRE

How would Choptop react to going to the dentist?; scenario idea - request

Choptop coming home; angst

Twins Threesome; smut, angst? (reader is murdered..) - request

Sawyers in High School; headcanons, angst, fluff - request

SCREAM

Stu Macher/Sidney Prescott; fluff - request

Starman - Stu Macher/Billy Loomis; fluff, hurt with comfort - request

SAW

Adam Faulkner x fem!reader; fluff, angst, hurt and comfort - request

Scott Tibbs/Adam Faulkner (RustyNailShipping); angst, hurt no comfort, potential series, drabble

Protective Adam - Adam Faulkner/Lawrence Gordon (ChainShipping); fluff, angst?, drabble - semi-request

Bad Dad, Bad Kid - Daniel Matthews/Brent Abbott (ChemicalShipping); angst, hurt with comfort, legacy au - request

RAZZLE DAZZLE REQUEST SERIES (6 asks from raz!)

A Phone Call Away - Peter Strahm/Matt Gibson (GovernShipping); fluff, sick fic kinda, RD series

"That's pretty punk." - David Radford/Shepard "Zep" Hindle (OrderlyShipping); fluff, angst, RD series

Merciful Monster - Adam Faulkner/Lawrence Gordon (ChainShipping) ft. Amanda Young; angst, hurt no comfort, RD series

Can We Be Seventeen? - Daniel Matthews/Brent Abbott (ChemicalShipping); angst, hurt with comfort, RD series

Photogenic - Adam Faulkner/Scott Tibbs (RustyNailShipping); fluff

Just Like The Man That Raised You - Melissa Nelson, Gordon family, ft. Mark Hoffman; angst, hurt no comfort, legacy au, RD series

Stitches - Mark Hoffman/Logan Nelson (MorgueShipping); angst, hurt with comfort

Favor - Mark Hoffman/Matt Gibson (FavorShipping); smut

Pathetically Pretty - Light Mark Hoffman/Lawrence Gordon (3dShipping); angst, hurt with no comfort

STANHEIGHT STORIES*

*triplets: specs fisher (insidious), adam faulkner/radford (saw), david radford (saw) cousins: gavin ellis (the mule), matt (dying breed), doug davis (cooties)

Migraine - Stanheight Cousins (Gavin Ellis, Doug Davis, Matt); angst, hurt no comfort

ELECTRIC DREAMS

I Need A Human's Touch - Edgar/Miles/Madeline; angst, fluff, drabble

MARBLE HORNETS/EVERYMANHYBRID

Loverboy; Jay Merrick/Tim Wright (Jam); fluff

DAILY WRITES

Daily #1; Steven "Specs" Fisher; drabble PROMPT: "a voice echoed in the empty house: 'i see you' "