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steddieunderdogfics · 7 months ago

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For the hurt/comfort weekend, may I suggest the ongoing fic “count to thirty. breathe twice. repeat.” By WingedQuill!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/42662157

The summary: “Billy Hargrove doesn't keep his promise to Max. He doesn't keep it in a pretty spectacular fashion, actually. Instead of staying away from her friends, he murders one of them.

Unfortunately for Billy, Hellfire meets right after basketball practice. And fortunately for Steve, Eddie knows CPR.”

Steve is hurt super badly, and the party, Hopper, and Eddie (including Wayne and the Corroded Coffin guys) are there for him ❤️

count to thirty. breathe twice. repeat by WingedQuill

Rating: Mature

48,013 words, 17/? chapters

Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Tags: Cardiopulmonary Resuscitation, (really ao3 is "CPR" too basic of a tag for you?), Post-Season/Series 02, Hurt Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson Has a Crush on Steve Harrington, the intimate rituals of saving your unattainable crush's life, the intimate rituals of murdering your rival in the locker room, Attempted Murder, Implied/Referenced Torture, rip steve's hair i should tag this fic MCD for that alone, Whump, this probs counts as whump let's be real, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, i continue my Branding(tm) of cutting off all my blorbos' hair, watch out trevor belmont ur next, Trauma, Hurt/Comfort, Recovery, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ensemble Cast

Summary:

Billy Hargrove doesn't keep his promise to Max. He doesn't keep it in a pretty spectacular fashion, actually. Instead of staying away from her friends, he murders one of them. Unfortunately for Billy, Hellfire meets right after basketball practice. And fortunately for Steve, Eddie knows CPR. (Or: There is a clearly defined set of steps to keep someone's heart beating. There's no guide for the aftermath. Steve, Eddie, and everyone they love write one together.)

Thanks for the rec!

This rec is a part of Theme Weekend. The theme this weekend is Hurt/Comfort.

Know a fic that deserves extra love? Submit through our asks or the submission box!

#steddie #steddie fic recs #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #stranger things #steddieunderdogfics #theme weekend #hurt/comfort #emotional hurt/comfort #rated m #canon divergent #whump

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ao3feed-jonmartin · 4 months ago

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oxford blood

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/NAwmQ7f by fossilgoblin Jon sticks a cigarette in his mouth on the first step he takes away from O'Hare International Airport, even though he didn't bother trying to sneak a lighter through customs. He shoulders his way into the 7-11 with it firmly between his teeth, buys the first green BIC he sees, and lights up the moment the door's swung shut behind him. America smells like pesticide and a landlocked mustiness he can't describe. And even as he'd bought his ticket back in Beijing, he hadn't been entirely sure what he was searching for. OR: Jon's in America. Jon gets MSG sick and calls Martin almost every night. Jon realizes he might be in over his head, in more ways than he anticipated, and finally accepts some help. An ode to grimy Ole Chicago, phone calls home, casual queer love, disability, amateur detective work, unlikely friendships, and all the weird shit in my Jonny Sims Spotify playlist. Words: 3245, Chapters: 1/3, Language: English Fandoms: The Magnus Archives (Podcast) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: M/M Characters: Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Martin Blackwood, Julia Montauk, Trevor Herbert, Basira Hussain, Mentioned Elias Bouchard | Jonah Magnus - Character, mentioned Melanie King - Character, Mentioned Not-Them (The Magnus Archives), mentioned Georgie Barker - Character, many random American NPC's Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Martin Blackwood & Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist Additional Tags: Set in Episodes 107-113 | Jon's Trip to America, Getting Together, Phone Calls, Autistic Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, He/Him and They/Them Pronouns for Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Gender Non-Conforming Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, ARFID, Whump, Sickfic, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, Comfort/Angst, loving relationship, The Magnus Archives (Podcast) as a Workplace Comedy, The Mechanisms Were Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist's College | University Band, Fix-It of Sorts, Disabled Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Monster Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, almost canon compliant, I really fucking tried folx, Episode: e107 Third Degree (The Magnus Archives), MSG as a plot device read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/NAwmQ7f

#IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #tma #jonmartin #jmart #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #jonmartin fanfic

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what-if-i-just-did · 4 months ago

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Guilt & Revenge: Hallucinations

Whumpcember, Day 4: Hallucinations

Guilt & Revenge Masterlist

Awww look it's Amber's very first time being tortured! I loved writing this but now I don't have a buffer anymore... whoops. I hope you enjoy, lmk if you wanna be added to the taglist! I also wanted to say that, although I won't be adding it to the tw's since it's not really noticable in the story, this is TECHNICALLY minor whump cuz at this point in the story Amber is still seventeen.

Taglist: @silentlysurffering98

TWs: captivity (on a boat), hallucinations, sensory deprivation (tied down + blindfold), muzzle, sea sickness, messed up sense of time, off-screen abduction, mention of ADHD and hunger

Amber tried to fight back while they tied him up, but Paul and Eileen were just stronger than him, especially with him being exhausted as fuck. He could barely even struggle when they muzzled, and blindfolded him. He cursed them out and yelled at them, but it made no difference at all. Then, once he was secured to the bed, if you could even call it that, he heard them leave.

His mind was racing. This was sure to be the first of many tortures he would be forced to endure. From what they’d told him, they seemed to be starting easy. Maybe he would get lucky and everything would remain this basic, and everything they’d mentioned had just been hyperbole and bluff. Sensory deprivation was easy enough… for now.

Amber couldn’t tell how long it took time to pass. Everything seemed to be taking an eternity, but any time he tried to think about how long it might have been, it only felt like a few minutes. His thoughts drifted everywhere- movies, things that had been said, his childhood, how fucked up this situation was, his friends. It was almost like normal nights when he got lost in thought, occasionally chuckling at how ADHD his mind was. The rope binding him and the uncomfortably warm leather of the muzzle strapped to his face reminded him that it was not at all the same. He didn’t even know if it was night at all.

He thought of Noah-Elise. He thought of the painting she gave him that he’d been meaning to hang up. He thought of Trevor’s recent idea of adding alcoholic milkshakes and slushies to the menu at Tipped, and how Dave had actually taken it seriously. He thought about how neither of his parents would have ever done that, taken him seriously like that, if they’d even theoretically had a business like that. He thought about the first months after he moved out, how grateful he was, how he could finally start living his own life, how Dave and Zander had supported him in ways his biological parents never had. He thought about his family, his real family, his FOUND family. He thought of Jake. If Jake was here, he would have been able to overpower them. They would be out by now… and Jake would be pissed.

The bobbing of the boat was making him nauseous, especially without his sight. He had no idea where he was- he just knew it was on a boat, which seemed to be home-renovated specifically for him to have a cell. He knew.. actually, yeah, he should put together everything he knew. He knew the boat was bigger than the cell. He could only see the other half of the room he was in, but he knew there was more. He had no idea what body of water the boat was in. He didn’t even know if he was still in the same state- Hell, he could be in Canada for all he knew.

Suddenly, a sound brought him out of his thoughts. Footsteps, right next to him- but he hadn’t heard anyone enter the boat, hadn’t heard the boat they'd left in returning. Had they actually left? How long had it been? “Who’s there?” He tried to sound demanding, but ended up sounding like a scared little kitten trying to roar.

Nobody answered. Nobody came close to him. It was silent.

He was sure there’d been a sound. Right? He was sure?

He was sure.

….

He wasn't sure.

What if there hadn’t been a sound? Was he going insane? How long in complete solitude, unable to see or move, would it take for someone to become insane? How long had it been? Thirty minutes, six days? More, less? How could he know? He didn’t fucking know! He was hungry. So, maybe just a few hours. When was the last time he ate? He was hungry when he was abducted, too. Did they give him food? He had no clue. Couldn’t remember.

He heard something, in the corner, like water dripping. He turned his head towards the sound, but it made no difference- the simple fabric of the blindfold robbed him of his sight.

Was he imagining it? Or might the boat have a leak? Would they leave him here long enough to drown? He tried to struggle against his restraints again, but found his limbs feeling weak and hollow. It was a feeling he knew intimately during his childhood, the feeling you get when you haven’t eaten in a day or so too long. He thought there might be black spots in his vision, which would help him further narrow down how long he’d gone without food, but being blindfolded and all, he couldn’t quite tell.

Tears formed puddles by his eyes, and he shook his head wildly to try to get them away, since his hands were tied. The movement made his head feel incredibly light.

Amber inhaled sharply as he awoke. What? No. He hadn’t been asleep.

Shit…

Shaking his head had made him pass out. Fuck. For how long?

Seconds? Minutes? Hours?

More?

Time trickled past him, like the water softly finding it’s way from the pile of snow it melted from. Time was thundering past, trying to drown him, like he was stuck in a large waterfall, making it hard to breathe. Time was wind, playing with leaves on the other side of the room.

Why could he hear wind? There was no wind in the windowless cell in the belly of a boat in an unknown location.

There wasn’t any firewood to be crackling, making him flinch with how close it sounded to his face.

There wasn’t any marble for high heels to click on, and nobody was walking around him.

There wasn’t… he didn’t think there was a clock, driving him mad with the needless precise ticking, but there might have been.

The last thing he’d been focused on yesterday was if there was a clock or not. He wished he had, even fleetingly, noticed if there was.

There weren’t any animals growling in his ear. There really, simply, just weren’t.

He heard them all anyway.

Amber felt parched. He was so, so thirsty. He was hungry, too, but fuck he needed water. He’d do anything for a glass of water. The tears stopped at some point, he couldn’t tell when. Time was a haze. His mouth felt like a goddamn desert. He wanted to cry.

How long had it been? Two days? Five? Seven? Would they leave him like this to die? How long did he have left if he was left this way?

What if it had only been hours? Was it possible to get this thirsty, this hungry, in less than a day? Was he delusional? If they came back, would they ever tell him how long it had been? Would he ever know?

Fuck, he hated them so much. He felt so helpless, tied down to an uncomfortable-as-shit bed. He wanted to beat them up and get the hell out of this place. He felt so seasick, he was honestly surprised he hadn’t thrown up. He wanted the police, or Jake, or Dave, or hell, he’d settle for Lore or even his father, to bust down the doors, rip off his blindfold, untie him, and get him out. He wanted out.

He heard it, a few times. Voices in the distance that he recognised- Jake, or Noah-Elise, or his friends, or Dave, or some combination. Someone opening the cell door. Sirens. Sounds that indicated he was being saved, alongside the other sounds. The random ones.

The fire and the clock and the growling.

His whole body felt numb. He was slipping in and out of consciousness, or maybe he was falling asleep. Where was the boundary between excessive thought and dream? It was dark before his eyes either way. He couldn’t move, and it felt like circulation to his legs had been cut off. Maybe they were turning blue and purple and black and falling off. He didn’t know.

Amber didn’t know. He was going fucking insane, and he was stuck. He couldn’t do anything.

He just wanted to go home.

#whump #whumptober #Amber Ruane (OC)#Guilt and Revenge #oc whump #hallucinations #sensory deprivation

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angstyaches · 5 months ago

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The Hexagon: Part Three

Parts One-Two

CW: prolonged hunger, insomnia, anxiety, hopelessness, fear of never seeing loved ones again, paranormal whump.

___

48 Hours

They were quiet for a long time. The night was not.

Shayne knew his restlessness was only making Charlie's anxiety worse, but staring up at the shimmering warded walls towering above them was making him feel incredibly nauseous. That, and the stillness, while the world was so active just beyond the hexagon, was unbearable.

He pulled himself upright, bringing his knees most of the way up to his chest.

And looked.

A few evenings ago, while he and Charlie had been walking, Shayne hadn't noticed a lot of demonic activity out here. Before the trap had activated, he'd been starting to think they'd made a mistake coming out here. They had, obviously; but for different reasons.

It was possible that the demons had all hidden, inherently sensing the danger that Shayne presented for them, or maybe he was known amongst all of them, not just the Mulberry inhabitants. But with their predator trapped, they shifted in and out of pockets of darkness at leisure.

Shayne had never had the chance to see them like this before – peaceful. He’d only ever seen them curious, furious, or terrorised by his presence.

Hunger bit relentlessly at his stomach, uncaring of the fact that he would have had to burn himself alive just to get to the creatures that it wanted him to chase down and devour.

In a way, being trapped freed him from that instincts, or, at the very least, knocked it on its ass.

The night air cooled the back of his damp shirt and set him shivering. His jaws ached from clenching his teeth and screaming. He rubbed at the sides of his face with both hands, then at his eyes when he realised how sore they were from looking through the wards.

But he wanted to see. He wanted to watch the demonic dark in which he didn’t exist.

Buried in his mind were vague memories of staring into a large fish tank as a small child; Dahlia holding him close to the glass so that he could put his hand to it and imagine he was touching the colourful fish on the other side. This felt a bit like that.

Instead of appearing as pools of light-sucking shadow like the Mulberry demons, the demons here seemed to glisten as they shifted through the night. Like an animal's fur when damp.

Occasionally, two glistening puddles would come close to colliding, but the demons would simply observe one another, reveal a vague outline of a form using whatever remnants they’d consumed ,and then move along amicably.

Charlie rolled closer to him, still curled up on the ground. He let out a confused hum as he noticed Shayne’s upright position.

Shayne cleared his throat but didn’t have the words to explain the morbid curiosity that had come over him. Lucy might have told him it was a defense mechanism, a way of wrapping up his sadness so he didn’t have to deal with it.

But that didn’t sound like the kind of conversation to burden Charlie with. Not now. Not here.

Instead, he carded his fingers into Charlie’s hair. His skin crawled as he felt the blonde strands rise to meet his touch. He felt the misshapen horn that had sprouted from the left side of Charlie’s forehead, shorter and a little more gnarled than usual. When Shayne swept back the hair, the spiraling roots of the horn left their impression just beneath Charlie’s skin, but had taken on a pale, grey pallor rather than striking strokes of black.

The effects of the wards were getting worse. If Charlie Too had been trying to fight through them, they weren't anymore, and Charlie himself definitely didn’t have the energy to spare.

“I wish I could have spoken to my parents,” Charlie said.

Shayne gritted his teeth at the thought of Ingrid and Trevor.

“And Rin. And Jon and Nicole. And Belle. Just one more time, to...” Charlie sounded choked up, but he didn't cry. Shayne wished he would; the absence of tears was worse than a flood of them. “To tell them...”

Beyond the wards, a formless demon took momentary notice of the hexagon.

“That you love them?” Shayne asked.

Charlie exhaled sharply in agreement.

“Charlie...” Shayne blinked against the sting in his eyes and throat. “Those people already know you love the shit out of them.”

The demon outside shifted into a vaguely arch-like shape and faded into nothing again. Shayne wondered if CT would be able to live like that soon, if they would be able to escape the hexagon, or if they’d still be trapped here...

Shayne’s fingers tightened slightly around Charlie’s hair.

... After.

“You’re so good at making people feel loved. And warm. And safe.”

Shayne realised it hadn’t even occurred to him to reassure Charlie that he would see his family again. Neither of them would have believed it. Of course, people would realise they were missing, but even if they came looking, they wouldn't know where to look.

Despite all of that, Charlie didn't flinch, or look up in despair. There might have even been the trace of a smile straining to lift the corner of his mouth. “Thank you, lovely.”

Shayne swallowed, unsure that he deserved any thanks. How? How had he been so careless with something as precious as this beautiful blonde boy who would follow him into Hell itself if he was asked?

His stomach sank violently. The space, the space. The space you take, little monster –

Shayne steeled himself against that voice. The tickle at the back of his neck was just the wind. It had to be. He needed it to be. The very nature of the hexagon was that it was just him, and Charlie, and CT. Maybe.

She didn’t get to be here now.

“Shayne,” Charlie whispered. The word sounded as though it were being passed through time itself. It carried nothing but the plain fact that it existed.

“Yeah?”

“Nothing. It's stupid.”

“What?”

“I just wanted to hear your voice. Make sure you're...” Charlie gulped audibly, his entire body flinching from the effort. “Really here with me.”

It felt as though Shayne's stomach might fall forever and never stop.

“You know I'm here with you, right?” Charlie whimpered.

“I-I know. A-and I'm... I'm here.” Shayne fumbled his hand out of Charlie's hair to brush a thumb against Charlie’s cheek, accidentally catching the lobe of his ear first. And because it had been nice, hearing Charlie say his name, he swallowed even more of his fear and whispered, “I'm here with Charles Benjamin Waters.”

Eyes shut, arm tucked under his head, Charlie smiled again, but these weren't true smiles. They were consolation smiles.

Shayne’s lips parted, then shut again. Nothing he could say would make the moment any easier. He tore his eyes away and absently rubbed circles into Charlie’s scalp until he knew that Charlie had fallen asleep.

The certainty that he was alone set off a cold, writhing spasm in the pit of Shayne’s stomach. His breath quivered as he looked down, tempted to wake Charlie back up, but that... that would be selfish, and –

The space.

With a jolt, he realised he was about to dig his fingernails into Charlie’s scalp. He slid his hands across himself, holding his sides. No. He couldn’t let himself wake Charlie. There was no point in both of them being awake and afraid.

Besides, if Charlie was able to sleep, he should sleep. Neither of them had really slept.

Charlie let out a gentle, questioning noise. With trembling hands, Shayne stroked his hair again. He found CT's horn a little longer, a little less knotted. It seemed like too much to hope for, but maybe sleep had brought some kind of relief to them both.

And you thought about waking him, Shayne thought to himself with a twinge of guilt. It wasn't the last sound Charlie made in his sleep, and every time, Shayne rested a hand on his head until he settled again.

56 Hours

He didn't realise he'd stayed up all night until liquid lavender started creeping into the sky, drinking up the dark and swallowing the stars. Not that it mattered in the hexagon, where everything was dipped in sickly pinkish purple.

This was Elliott’s favourite time of day, that hazy limbo just before dawn, and the thought hit Shayne like a fist to the centre of his chest. Thanks to countless hours of combat training with Elliott, Shayne knew exactly how such a blow felt, but that wasn’t what came to mind now. It was the way Elliott’s eyes could hold onto a scowl even as his mouth grinned. It was the rumble of his laugh.

He had to pull his hand away from Charlie’s hair, clamping both palms over his mouth to keep the clawing pain in his lungs from bubbling up into a cry. Shayne couldn't convince himself that Elliott knew, truly knew, how deeply Shayne had forgiven him. Or how much he appreciated having Elliott and Felix in his life.

He braced himself to swallow another sob, but something else stilled it in his chest.

A movement. Different from the others.

Shayne lowered his hands from his mouth. The shock took the tremble out of his fingers.

“What the fuck?” he whispered.

The ground was drenched in dew as he pushed himself to his feet. Pine needles stuck to his hands, irritating the damaged skin on his right palm, and he didn’t even think to brush them off. He staggered up close to the north-eastern-facing wall of the hexagon.

The rising sun had put a couple of inches between itself and the slanted horizon. Golden sunrays scattered between the tree trunks.

And highlighted a figure standing amongst them.

Shayne’s knees buckled slightly. Only a shred of self-preservation stopped him from pressing his hands up to the ward.

The figure wore a dark garment that fell all the way to the forest floor, but beneath it was the shape of a person, far more clear-cut than the average demon could have conjured up from their remnants. They raised a cloaked arm and unfurled their hand.

Shayne turned away to shield his eyes from the glare released into the morning haze. The effect was like dizzying spots in his vision, only the spots were bright purple, just like the wards.

But when he looked out again, the shadows of the trees were all that lay ahead of him, and for once in his life, Shayne’s eyes actually struggled to adjust to the gloom. He hadn’t really considered how the wards’ glow might mess up his senses, not until the walls had dissolved, leaving behind a sickly off-yellow hue that stained everything in their absence.

The hexagon had vanished, and for a moment, he thought the figure had, too. Maybe this had all just been a weird head rush, his mind finally breaking from the stress, the hunger.

When Shayne took a step forward, hands outstretched, there were no wards to stop him, no new burns on his palms. Nausea squeezed at his stomach as he tried to make sense of it all, to force this new information into a brain that had pretty much accepted its fate and didn't know what to do with anything else.

Downhill, a cloak billowed and disappeared through the trees. The figure picked up speed, their footfalls heavy and solid on the ground.

“Hey,” Shayne gasped.

And he suddenly knew exactly what to do.

He gave chase.

#StW Shayne #StW Charlie #Swallow the World #whump fic #OC whump #angst #angst fic #demon OC #demon eater OC #hunger mention #hunger #starvation #hurt comfort #hurt and comfort

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set-phasers-to-whump · 2 years ago

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skymed whump list

description: “Follows intense character journeys and high-stakes medical rescues, heartbreaks and tribulations of budding nurses and pilots flying air ambulances.” whump refers to various recurring male characters (unfortunately not all of them are in the pic, but from left to right are Tristan, Chopper, Nowak, and Bodie)

overall notes: apparently you can find the show on paramount plus but I pirated it so I can’t say anything for captions or availability. it’s a little silly sometimes but it’s way more interesting than a lot of your average medical dramas imo.

Pilots And Nurses And Bears, Oh My! (1x01) - Jeremy: stabbed, stitches Wheezer: plane crash, unconscious, bloody face, carried, broken back Bodie: upset

Line Indoc (1x02) - Bodie: at gunpoint, hit in the head with a gun

The Kids Are Alright (1x03) - Wheezer: in the hospital

Where There’s Smoke (1x04) - Wheezer: on crutches

Bushwhacked (1x05) - Wheezer: walking with a cane Jeremy: hit by a car, in the hospital Bodie: leg caught in a bear trap, carried, in the hospital Tristan: upset, crying

Girls Just Wanna Have Fun (1x06) - none

Daj Mi Buzi (1x07) - Nowak: overworked, tired, crashes his car, cut forehead, in pain and struggling to get out, relocates dislocated shoulder by himself, two panic attacks Jeremy: in medical transport, upset Trevor: upset Bodie: upset

Frozen (1x08) - Nowak: panic attack while flying, upset, fight with Bodie Chopper: panicked Bodie: fight with Nowak Jeremy: cold

Leave It All On The Ice (1x09) - Wheezer: gagging Jeremy: stumbling, shot, upset at himself Pierce: trapped under a shelf, reveals he’s going deaf, internal bleeding, in the hospital, upset at himself Bodie: crying

NEW!! Season 2:

Return to Base (2x01) - Jeremy: argument with Crystal Tristan: mildly electrocuted, argument with Nowak Nowak: argument with Tristan Wheezer: scared Chopper: in an explosion, unconscious, impaled with shrapnel, cardiac arrest, field medicine

Spun Out (2x02) - Jeremy: upset, argument with Crystal Wheezer: slip and fall, emotional conversation Chopper: unconscious in hospital, waking up, groggy, arm pain, upset, collapse Bodie: upset Nowak: upset

Things That Matter Most (2x03) - Chopper: upset, can’t use his hand much, hand bandaged Nowak: upset Bodie: plane crash, emotional conversation, crying Tristan: plane crash, broken rib Jeremy: plane crash

Turbulence (2x04) - Chopper: in pain from his injuries, limping, upset, crying

Code Silver (2x05) - none

Little Lies (2x06) - Jeremy: upset, doubting himself Wheezer: stressed Nowak: upset, angry

Old Wounds (2x07) - Tristan: upset, crying Nowak: guilty, panicking, vomits Wheezer: upset, worried about Haley, argument with Haley, angry Bodie: in trouble for breaking rules Chopper: in trouble for breaking rules

Before Sunrise, After Sunset (2x08) - Bodie: upset

Out With a Bang (2x09) - Nowak: upset, trapped by a broken elevator, revelation of past trauma, crying, unconscious, carried, in hospital with ruptured diaphragm and broken ribs Wheezer: sick, delirious Tristan: upset, crying, worried Bodie: in hospital after kidney donation

#i say things #skymed #whump list #it’s not the highest quality out there but it’s interesting and pretty cool #also for those interested wheezer is played by aaron ashmore so…..#also the show is set in the canadian north which is a much more interesting setting than like. the city or whatever #and there’s a strong focus on indigenous communities which I really liked #I doubt it’ll get another season tho but I’d recommend it if you’ve got free time and don’t mind something a little soapy a little silly #the fandom for this show appears to be like ten people and a bag of chips so like. please.#(btw I’ll be writing my last bthb fic for this)#(sorry to disappoint by not doing one of my usual fandoms but I have an Idea)#oh there’s a gifset of nowak in 1x07 somewhere around btw #that’s the top whump ep imo. physical and emotional with lasting talked about consequences #cannot believe we got a second season

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