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strokemycoxswain · 19 days

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Prompt:

@savvylittlecoxswain hope this scratches your itch! I’m also open to specific prompts if you got them! I just wanted Bobby drowning a lil bit this time lol.

title: problem solver

genre: angst, whump

pairing: gen, don/bobby if you squint

rating: t

warning: EATING DISORDER, bobby is actively starving himself in this fic, broken bones, near drowning

It’s a typical ideal of 1930s culture that one should earn their meals. Bobby Moch is in a paradoxical position where his meal ticket is the very thing that makes him hungry.

Already being a petite man, Bobby has his diminutive height on his side, but he’s had to fight for his manufactured emaciation since the first time he sat in the coxswain’s perch. Purging, fasting, over-working, hours in the steam room. Anything to be less cumbersome for his crew.

Like anything, it started casual. Now his unanswered appetence buzzes in the back of his skull day in and day out. If I skip this many meals and spit out water for the next two days, I can shed three more pounds and my crew will win gold. And, by God, did his boys look gorgeous in gold.

The crew noticed his odd eating habits, once upon a time. So he stopped eating with them. They didn’t like that, but what are they going to do? Tell him what to do? He’s their coxswain, it’s his job to boss and no one else. What they don’t understand won’t hurt them.

And sure, they boys could handle Bobby’s weight if he was at his healthy one-hundred twenty five pounds. But Bobby’s at his best, his most beneficial, when he’s at one-sixteen. When Bobby’s good, the boys are unstoppable.

So he’s frustrated when he’s got to that one-sixteen goal and the boys’ rowing turns to shit. Don can’t seem to keep up to Bobby’s tempo during practice, Shorty’s been tuckering out too quick, and Roger’s oars have been slapping the water in such a ridiculously clumsy fashion it almost seems intentional.

“Well, boys. Real exciting practice today.” Bobby grins tightly, feeling his eye twitch as they glide slowly back to the dock. Steam comes off of all of the crews’ shoulders and dissipates into the chilled autumn morning - evidence of their effort. His boys try so hard, so what is stopping them from being great? “Y’know, I kinda missed the testicle massages from days of old. I’m so excited we are right back to shaking around like a magnitude seven!”

Not one of them speaks up to defend themselves - even Chuck’s head hangs tucked to his chest. Bobby follows them as they load the shell back into the boathouse. Watching the muscles move under the goosepimpled skin of their backs and calves. They’re perfect. Not without flaw, but they’re perfect to him.

It’s me, he realizes abruptly. I’m keeping the greatness out.

He enters the boathouse to see that they’re all waiting for his closing comments before tucking tail to their dorms. He feels like he’s quaking, thigh muscles tight, as he comes to stand before them. He keeps a stiff upper lip when looking up at their faces. But none of them look too optimistic today. Even Don’s usual attentive gaze is aimed at his shoes.

“This morning wasn’t too hot.” Bobby starts, taking a moment to swallow against the anxious lump and sour hunger stuck in his throat. “Tell me what I can do.”

Eight pairs of widened eyes snap to attention at his request. There’s a current of worry emanating from them. Joe and Don look particularly freaked by the switch in Bobby’s demeanor.

“What can I do to make it work?” Bobby rephrases, singling Don out with his gaze. He knows his first stroke will be honest with him.

But Don stays silent, eyebrows creased and lips set in a severe frown.

“Bob.” Joe speaks up, stepping slightly forward. “We just need to work some stuff out. As a team.”

“Yeah.” Stub agrees quickly. “It’s not on you.”

Bobby nods, trying and failing to be convinced by their objections. He will work it out on his own, then.

“That’s that, then.” Bobby tries to sound enthused, but his stomach is doing flips and he feels like shame is the only thing left inside of him at this point in his twenty-four hour fast. “Teamwork.”

They break and he can hear Don following him close behind. He glances over his shoulder and the stroke’s expression is still shadowy with doubt.

“Can’t visit tonight.” Bobby says without turning to look at Don or even stop walking. “Got lots of homework. Law school. You understand.”

And Don’s footsteps silence but they don’t retreat. Bobby can feel Don’s gaze follow him until he’s no longer visible to him.

Bobby was going to break his fast after practice. A reward for good progress. But he thinks better of it tonight, being that there was no progress at all.

And if he goes back to the steam rooms and marinates for an hour or so, no one has to know.

—

It’s like someone flipped a switch at the next day’s practice. Don and Shorty move like steel machines and Roger is perfectly oiled and in sync with the rest of them.

Bobby’s so relieved that he’s practically singing to them as they drill. Yelling so hard into the megaphone that he’s sure Don’s face is being constantly misted with his spit.

They go and go and go. And go and go and go.

And it’s like they’ve suddenly rowed into an anti-gravity dimension, because Bobby feels like the world is being flipped upside down around him. His heart begins to pound and his eyes can’t focus and his mouth goes chalk dry. And whatever Don is saying to him sounds like gibberish.

Mindless, he wraps his rudder cord around his wrist tightly to try and ground himself. But the boat must be hitting some severe wake because his body is tipping over the side of the boat and hitting the freezing, black water below.

The cord around his wrist catches as his body twists into the river and a sickening, zipping CRACK!emanates from his pinky finger down to his triquetral bone. He opens his mouth to cry out, in confusion more than anything, and gets a lung full of liquid.

He’s barely under the water for thirty seconds, sinking like a rock, but it feels like he’s drowning for a good five minutes by the time he feels big hands grasp him around his chest and pull him back to the surface. His lungs feel like they’re shredding apart and he can’t get a breath in. He grips hard onto whoever has him with his good hand.

“Grab him!” Don’s usually quiet voice booms close to his ear. “Joe, pull him in!”

Another pair of giant paws grasp him under his arms and yank him back into the shell. His broken hand smacks the bow as he’s settled across Don’s seat and the boat begins to jostle as it moves toward the docks. Finally gasping in a hiccuping breath, he doesn’t have the sense to stop the scream from ripping out of his throat.

“What’s going on? Bobby!” Someone, it sounds like Roger, asks as the boat slams against the wooden planks of the dock.

Arms lift him up out of the boat and roll him so that he’s on his side with his good hand tucked under his head and his bad one draped on his side. Someone’s hand, burning blood hot compared to Bobby’s freezing, shriveling skin, begins to rub at his sternum roughly.

“Let it out, Bob.” Joe coaxes from above Bobby, voice urgent and teetering on this side of panicked. “Spit it up.”

And almost like Bobby’s body was waiting for permission, murky river water rushes back up his esophagus and bursts from his mouth.

“Johnny.” Don’s voice is breathy but even as he pulls himself up onto the dock. Staring at Don’s sopping shoes from his lying position, Bobby realizes that his first stroke swam to shore behind them. “Run to the infirmary. Have them bring a backboard or something.”

“Nuh…” Bobby objects sluggishly. His tongue feels leaden and too thick in his mouth and he feels like his chest is full of mud. “I c’n walk.”

Johnny’s retreating steps are a quick, short staccato as he runs off towards the campus infirmary.

“Shut up, Bobby.” Chuck snaps, sounding hysterical.

“Duh fuhh you jus’ say tuh m’?” Bobby tries to sit up but his hand hurts too bad to move and Joe’s hands feel like they weigh a ton each.

“Stay down.” Chuck commands as clarification.

“Calm down.” Joe warns.

Don hunches down over Bobby, water dripping onto Bobby’s numb cheek.

“You think he’s sick?” Joe asks Don as the first runs a careful, reverent finger along Bobby’s quickly swelling wrist.

“I don’t know.” Don murmurs from between his teeth. “His wrist is probably broken.”

“‘m righ’ ‘ere!” Bobby protests them speaking over him like he’s an invalid. Like he’s not completely in control.

Maybe I’ve lost control, he realizes seeringly.

“I got him a blanket!” Shorty’s breathless voice calls out from far away, like he’s also been running around. A blanket is tucked around Bobby’s body a moment later, effectively blocking out the stabbing wind.

“Th’nks.” Bobby’s teeth clatter as he begins to shiver profusely. He sneaks a blurred glance up at Don and can make out the tremble of the younger man’s lower lip too. “Yuh col’, D’n?”

Don shakes his head, sharing a loaded look with Joe. The blond second stroke is contemplative from his position behind Bobby’s shoulder, keeping his coxswain propped on his side.

“Are you sick, Bobby?” Don asks earnestly, his hand coming down to feel Bobby’s cold, flushed cheek. “What happened?”

“‘M jus’ h’ngry.” Bobby admits, his inhibitions having vanished with his body heat.

“Hungry?”

“Yuh. Needa eat.”

“How long has it been since you ate last?”

Bobby feels bone tired and drunk now. His visions swims so that Don’s face just looks like a pale smudge against the grey backdrop of the morning.

“Coupla days…” And Bobby falls off the edge of the dark again.

—

Bobby wakes in the hospital a few hours later. Not the school infirmary, but the hospital.

God, his boys are so damn dramatic.

Don is sitting in the visitors chair with his chin tucked to his slowly rising chest. Bobby knows he’ll wake up with a crick in his neck.

He looks down at his own bed. His right hand is wrapped in a stiff cast and he’s got two layers of blankets tucked tightly around his torso and legs. There’s an IV bag dripping into a tube that’s connected to the crook of his elbow.

He feels like shit.

“Don.” Bobby calls as loud as he can; his throat sounds ripped apart. “Donny, you’re gonna hurt yourself sleeping like that.”

Don picks his head up slowly, blinking hard. His eyes are red and his dark circles look purple under the hospital lighting. He silently stands and walks to the side of Bobby’s bed.

They stare at each other for a moment. They are good at communicating silently - it’s Don’s preferred method, after all.

Bobby’s eyes say Sorry?

Don’s say Don’t scare me like that, idiot!

Don immediately manipulates the hospital bed and Bobby’s weight so that the coxswain is propped up in a sitting position. The younger man then reaches down to a place next to the bed where Bobby can’t see and brings a mug and a package of saltines back up.

“You’re going to drink this. All of it.” Don informs Bobby, holding out the mug.

Bobby takes the lukewarm mug dumbly and looks into it. It looks and smells like chicken broth. He takes a sip and the saltiness is so good his eyes nearly roll back.

“You’re going to finish these.” Don continues, holding up the crackers before sitting the package in Bobby’s lap.

And Bobby isn’t sure what to say. Don’s smart, he’s got Bobby figured out. But the coxswain will probably never find the courage to explain himself. Instead, he takes steady sips from his soup mug in order to smooth the crease between Don’s eyebrows.

Bobby stomach feels heavy and otherwise unexplainable as he opens the package of saltine’s under his first seat’s steady gaze. There’s nowhere for him to go to hide and purge out of sight after this. He will have to sit and digest this in Don’s presence.

Things will inexplicably change. Not just between him and Don. But with the whole team. A knot pulls itself tight in his chest. He realizes that he will mourn his starving like a dead friend.

But as he works through his meager dinner, watching Don watch him as his hands smooth the blankets on Bobby’s legs like he’s petting him, Bobby feels like he can figure a new strategy. He’s a problem solver, after all.

#my fic #don hume #the boys in the boat #tbitb #bobby moch #coxstroke #jack mulhern #don and bobby #joe rantz #callum turner #luke slattery #fic prompt

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painsandconfusion · 3 months

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Sticks and Stones May Break My Bones, But…

Whumping the Whumpers - Part One

This series (this scene specifically) started as a @whumptober prompt, so thank you to them for making this possible!

(tw: stabbing, cutting, kidnapping, restrained, stress position, implied past self-harm)

[Masterpost | Next]

Nate pulled the chain tight and watched Ethan’s hands stretch toward the ceiling. They kept pulling until Ethan was balancing on their tiptoes.

Very nice. Visually dynamic.

Ethan was wearing jeans and a long-sleeved shirt, but they’d fix that soon. Nate always loved how much skin was exposed when the arms were brought up like this.

Nate stepped up to Ethan, sliding off their blindfold.

Ethan’s eyes burned back at them. That was…surprising. "Happy to see me, darling?”

Ethan didn’t break eye-contact like they used to. “Sure. Psyched.”

Nate tucked away a stray lock of hair that fell in Ethan’s eyes. “So angry. You’ve only been away from me…what? Five years now? Not much time to grow a backbone.”

“Long enough, apparently.”

“Yes, apparently,” Nate chucked. “I’ll have a fun time ripping it back out of you.” They trailed their fingers down Ethan’s sternum for added effect.

Their eyes were flat. Void of amusement or fear. “Go for it.”

Nate stepped back, looking them over. They had gained back the weight they’d lost and then some. They looked stronger - much stronger, actually - than before. Nate reached out, pressing a hand to their stomach, then running it up along their arms. They had definitely gained some muscle, too. Ethan didn’t flinch at the touch. Nate didn’t know why that was annoying to them.

They smiled, covering up the emotion. “It’s really so good to have you back. I never stopped looking for you after you escaped. Did you know that?”

Ethan sighed, staring at the ceiling. “I never assumed you would.”

“And yet…you don’t seem afraid. I’m not going to lie, I miss that a little. You made the cutest sounds.”

“I really don’t have any more fucks to give at this point.” Their eyes did seem particularly…well…dead.

“Hmm. Well, maybe you’ll find some again.” They grinned, slipping a small knife from their pocket. “You just need a little persuasion.”

Ethan’s eyes dropped to the knife. “By all means, go ahead. Pain and I are good friends.”

Nate smirked. They were acting so tough. We will see how long that lasts. They brought the knife up, letting the tip rest and push gently up under Ethan’s chin.

They waited for the flinch. For Ethan’s breath to hitch. For them to tip their head up, exposing their neck.

But….nothing.

Nate quirked an eyebrow and tipped the knife further up. Ethan didn’t flinch as the skin split, bead of blood running down the blade.

For a moment, Nate had to beat down the sudden urge to push it further. To make them gasp and flinch even if they had to ram the knife up through the roof of their mouth.

No no, not today. Start slow. Relish this.

They watched the bead of blood roll. And…noticed something behind it.

Something out of place on Ethan’s neck.

Nate blinked. Was that…a scar? They’d never given Ethan a scar there. Had they? No. Definitely not.

Nate snaked a hand around and gripped Ethan by the back of the hair, pulling down to expose the throat. Ethan offered no resistance as Nate examined the faded white line. They traced it lightly with the tip of the knife.

“Who did this to you?” Their voice was a whisper. A flavor of rage they didn’t recognize bubbled in their chest.

Ethan’s voice hummed against the blade. “Some guy named Redd? Ran into him after I left you.”

Nate pulled back, dropping Ethan’s head. They gripped the knife tighter. Redd.

They stared at the ceiling, trying to keep their breaths steady. “And this Redd…did he hurt you besides that once?”

Ethan smirked, “Oh plenty. Much worse than you did.”

Nate gripped the knife tighter as their hands started to shake. Darkness creeped into the edges of their vision. “What’s his full name?”

“Oh my god, are you jealous?” Ethan laughed at that. “Wow, you really are. Feeling a little protective now, are we?”

Nate spun back to them. “What the fuck did he do to you?!”

Ethan offered no response but a smile.

Whatever. They’d find out themselves.

Nate slipped the knife under the hem of Ethan’s shirt, splitting it cleanly down the middle. They did the same to the sleeves, ripping them away and tossing the tattered fabric on the ground.

They…stared.

And stared.

And stared some more.

Gashes and scars littered their flesh. They were in every shape. Every color a scar can be. Nate walked around them, forcing themselves to look, even if seeing the marred flesh - their flesh - made Nate’s skin craw. Normally they would appreciate the sight, but not when other hands had made those scars. They wanted to strip all the ruined skin back, peeling it off and starting fresh.

Nate took a deep breath. “What. The. Fuck. Happened to you.”

Ethan shrugged - at least Nate assumed it was a shrug - it was hard to tell in that position. “Met a few more. Finally got out. Got into juice cleanses and kale-”

“More? I’m sorry, did you just say more?”

“More sick freaks like you? Yeah. Quite a few, actually.”

Nate could practically feel the air vibrating in their lungs.

“You’re MINE.”

Ethan smiled at that. It seemed genuine. “Evidently not, sorry.”

Nate lashed out, punching Ethan as hard as they could in the gut. Ethan coughed and swayed back against the chain.

Why. The. FUCK weren’t they flinching??

“I don’t know what to tell you. Sorry for your loss? Apparently you never learned to share your toys as a kid.”

Nate tossed the knife to the side of the room before they lost control and stabbed them or something. It clattered to a stop against the wall. Nate turned away, running their fingers through their hair. They needed to calm down. They had Ethan now. They were theirs now.

And this time, they weren’t ever getting away.

“You doing okay, there?”

Nate spun back around to face them, eyes burning. “Peachy,” they spat.

Ethan chuckled. “Doesn’t look like it to me.” They looked Nate up and down, amusement radiating. “What can I do to make you feel better?” They cooed, mocking. “Should I scream? Beg? Pull away and cry? Make you feel like you’re somehow scarier than they were?”

Nate’s fist cracked against Ethan’s nose before they even realized they were moving.

Blood started to dribble after a few moments. Ethan laughed loudly as the chain keeping them up spun them back forward. “Wow, touched a nerve there, did I?”

Nate’s eyes locked on the fallen knife. Fuck it. They were going to stab them after all.

Nate retrieved it and strode back up to Ethan, pointing the knife at them while every inch of their body trembled with fury. “You’re MINE. Do you understand that?” They pressed the knife tip hard against Ethan’s stomach.

“Sure. Whatever makes you feel better.”

The little shit. Nate pulled back the knife, ready to thrust it into their diaphragm. They froze, looking at the skin on their ribs, just to the left of their target.

It was their brand. Their beautiful brand they placed on Ethan. The good one with their initials and emblem. It was massacred.

Gashes and lines criss-crossed over the lettering until it was hardly recognizable. Scarred over. Destroyed. Forgotten.

Nate’s breath stopped. Their vision nearly blurring.

They struggled to keep their voice down. They pressed their shaking fingers hard against it. “Who did that.”

Ethan only smirked at them.

Nate gritted their teeth and drove the knife deep into Ethan’s abdomen, in a safe(er) place below the appendix.

Ethan grunted, but laughed freely as they gasped for air. “Wow, that one really has you railed up.”

Nate grabbed Ethan’s jaw with their free hand, forcing Ethan to look at them. “I said,” They twisted the knife, “WHO did that?”

Ethan didn’t even respond to the knife when Nate twisted it a second time. “I need names.”

Ethan just chucked. “That one was all me.”

[Masterpost | Next] [Original Post]

#stabbing #cutting #kidnapping #restrained #stress position #implied past self-harm #whumping the whumpers #nate and ethan #reposting #repost #self repost

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stoic-whumpee · 2 years

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Could I get some lab/medical whump prompts? With the caveat that this is in fact a lab with standards; whatever the employees' individual feelings, they have to adhere to the rules and regulations, which don't allow for "unethical treatment" of test subjects. (Meaning the experimenters need to have good reasons for their tests and can't just be sadists in lab coats.) Whumpee is considered unable to care for themself and is a ward of the lab, somewhat like involuntary hospitalization.

Heya, thanks for the ask!

I’ll be honest this is a very broad scenario for me, but I can provide some starting point for your own research.

TW: talk of hospitalisation and medical malpractice/abuse.

For a lab to perform “experiments” on patients in a whumpy way, they will either simply ignore the rules completely and hide it from patients and family (like this one in 2013 [here]) or they will find a loophole within the rules that allows them to be unethical to the patients (because research without consents can be possible, as studied [here] and talked about [here]).

I’d suggest look up the specific code of conducts for the medical field you want to set your story in, especially code of conducts for human subject research [here].

I’d also suggest looking up the mistreatment of patients in hospital, especially patients who are disabled or mentally ill, which is still happening today. Some words you can use are “medical malpractice”, “involuntary commitment” or “involuntary hospitalisation”. I’d also suggest looking into “pathologisation of social deviance” as a way to control people.

One thing to keep in mind about this situation is that in an involuntary commitment scenario and in a hospital setting in general, the doctors and healthcare personnels are very much in complete charge of the patient, and the patient has very little freedom. There is a clear power imbalance that will lend itself easily to abuse. Dehumanization and infantilisation of the patient is a very possible outcome, especially with people who have no other family or friends or are kept away from them. Similarly, isolation and emotional manipulation are also abuse the patient can face.

#whump #hospital whump

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katblu42 · 1 year

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Bandit - FishTank week reblog

Another Wee Tracys fic. This time it's completely fluff inspired by (a prompt generated with the Wheel of Whump which gave me) the concept of "help eating" with a location of a "vent." It does fit today's FishTank Week theme though!

Note: I have no experience with these creatures, and no knowledge of housing construction (and a tendency to get very frustrated with researching stuff very quickly), so I apologise for any inaccuracies in those departments.

Bandit

At first he thought he was imagining it, but over the course of the last hour the little scratching noises had increased. It was distracting him from his homework. Something was inside his bedroom wall, he was sure of it. Gordon wondered whether he should tell one of his brothers. More specifically one of his older brothers. Telling Alan would only get the kid excited and make rescuing whatever animal was stuck in the wall more difficult.

Scratch. Scuffle, scratch, scrabble, scratch.

As quietly as he could, he slid the chair back from his desk, tip-toed to the wall and pressed his ear against it. Nothing. He almost gave up, thinking perhaps whatever it was had gone somewhere else, or fallen asleep, then he heard a quiet swooshy movement – the kind his hand might make if he brushed it against the wall. Scratch, scratch. It was close now. Low down, near the floor. His eyes swept along the skirting board until he spotted the vent on the other side of his desk.

Hmm. If he could get the vent open maybe he could spot the animal stuck in the wall and maybe even get it out. On close inspection of the 8” by 6” vent cover he could see it was attached to the wall with 4 small screws. He’d need tools. And maybe snacks to encourage the animal to come out. And maybe a box or something to put the creature in until he could relocate it outside. Yep, he had a plan. He darted out of the room to collect the items he needed.

Wham! He darted straight into Virgil.

“Whoa! Where’s the fire?” Virgil caught hold of him by the shoulders, steadying him and making sure he was not about to hurt himself after bouncing off his bigger brother’s chest.

“Ooof! Sorry, Virg.” Gordon spoke almost at the same time, made sure his feet were solidly planted again and shrugged away from Virgil’s grip. Curiosity and concern burned down at him from beneath raised eyebrows. He felt his own eyes betray him as he glanced back towards his room and back up to meet his brother’s gaze.

“What are you hiding in there?”

“Nothing, I swear!” Gordon put his hand over his heart. “It’s just … there’s a … I was just going to …” He sighed – a physical thing involving his whole body – and his gaze fixed firmly on the floor for a moment. When he finally looked back up at Virgil the familiar expression of patient calm he found there gave him the encouragement he needed. “I think there’s an animal stuck in my wall and I need to get some stuff so I can see if I can rescue it.”

Virgil quirked an eyebrow. That was all it took. Gordon knew he had an ally. He showed Virgil the vent he wanted to open, described the noises he’d heard and waited impatiently with his bigger brother until they both heard the noises again. Virgil agreed to help him open the vent, suggesting a box to catch the animal in was a must, but perhaps they should hold off on the snacks until they discovered what type of animal it was and therefore what it might eat, and whether it needed coaxing out of the wall space.

While Virgil went to collect the right type of screwdriver and a couple of other tools (just in case), Gordon prepared a makeshift animal carry box. He dumped the dirty laundry out of the plastic laundry bin from the corner of his room. Its sides were a kind of latticework that would ensure the animal could still breath when he placed the lid on top. He lined the bottom of the bin with a few towels so the creature would be comfy.

Virgil returned with the tools and a flashlight. Together they moved Gordon’s desk so they had more room to work around the vent. Virgil made short work of the removal of the first 2 screws.

“Get ready with that nest of yours, Gordon,” he said as he lined up the screwdriver on the third screw. “Hold it close to the wall, below the vent, just in case the cover swings loose and the animal makes a run for it.”

It was at that moment Gordon remembered Virgil had a fairly strong dislike of rats and mice. The expression of grim determination on his brother’s face suggesting he was forcing himself to continue his task despite the fear made Gordon feel kind of proud of him.

The third screw was removed, but the vent cover stayed firmly in place. Virgil moved on to the last screw and Gordon kept the re-purposed laundry bin in place. This last one proved difficult to remove, rusted in place. With a grunt from Virgil and a slight cracking sound the screw finally began to move, and within a few turns of the screwdriver was moving more freely. Once all the screws were out Virgil had to use a flat bladed driver to prise the top of the vent cover free from the wall. Before removing it all the way he glanced at his younger brother, who nodded in confirmation that he was ready. The cover came off the vent and … nothing happened.

Gordon let out a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding, and put the laundry basket nest down. The sudden release of tension in Virgil’s shoulders indicated his brother probably felt much the same way as he put the vent cover down, resting it against the wall.

“Let’s take a look,” Virgil suggested as he reached for the flashlight. “See if we can see who’s in here, or something to show us what we might be dealing with.”

Gordon inched himself closer so he could see inside the vent as Virgil clicked on the flashlight and aimed it into the darkness. The beam of light illuminated a small section of flexible ducting before it curved upward. Both brothers felt a little deflated at this result until they heard the scuffling noise close by. Remaining silent and keeping the flashlight beam steady, they waited and were rewarded by the sudden appearance of a pair of eyes glowing back at them from a black, white and grey banded furry face.

“It’s a raccoon,” Virgil stated with an audible sigh of relief. “It must have made a hole in the ducting there near the bend, look.”

As the little furry head disappeared again Gordon could just make out the ragged edges of the hole Virgil was trying to catch in the flashlight beam. A frown creased his forehead as his attention turned to how they were going to get the little guy out.

“What are you thinking, Gordon?”

“Do you think Alan’s small enough to crawl in there and rescue Bandit?”

The look of horrified surprise on his big brother’s face, which quickly flickered through a glare in response to Gordon’s mischievous smile, before settling on mild confusion greatly amused the younger boy.

“You named the racoon Bandit?”

“Yep.”

“And you know Alan wouldn’t fit in there, and even if he did we would not be sending him in there after a wild animal.” Virgil’s eye roll and head shake just amused Gordon more.

“I know, but it’s fun to see the faces you make when you think I’m being serious.”

“Ha ha.” Virgil turned off the flashlight and shifted to a slightly more comfortable position, sitting back on his heels. “We’re gonna need to figure out how to get this little guy – Bandit – out of there, and we’re gonna need to tell Dad about this.”

“We do? Why?”

“Because Bandit is only a kit and that means his mom and the rest of his family could be in the house somewhere, probably in the attic.”

“Awww.” Gordon’s features scrunched into his that’s-so-cute face. “Mumma raccoon’s missing one of her babies. We gotta get Bandit back to his family.”

“We have to get him out here first, Squid.”

“Snack time!” Gordon stood up and was two steps towards the door faster than Virgil could react, then he suddenly stopped and turned back. “What do baby raccoons eat?”

Neither brother knew the answer to that question, so a quick internet search was carried out. A trip to the kitchen was made and Gordon returned with two pairs of rubber gloves – because raccoons can carry rabies and it’s best to be as safe as possible – an old baby bottle with a little milk in it and a few different fruits and nuts. They didn’t know whether Bandit had teeth yet or not, so the kit might not be ready for solid foods, but they also weren’t sure if cow’s milk would be suitable for a baby raccoon.

The first attempt at coaxing Bandit out of the vent involved placing a few berries and nuts as far into the ducting as Virgil could reach with the aim of attracting the little raccoon and then luring it out with a trail of food. After a few minutes of waiting the scratching, scuffling noises were heard, a little black nose appeared through the hole in the ducting … then disappeared again.

Ten more minutes of waiting and no further activity passed before Gordon decided they should try some banana. He took prime position kneeling on the floor in front of the vent. Virgil moved over beside him aiming the flashlight, and holding the laundry bin nest at the ready. Gordon held a few pieces of smooshy banana in his gloved fingertips and slowly stretched his arm as far into the vent as he could reach. With his arm and the flashlight taking up most of the available opening he had to press his face up near the vent and look through one eye in order to see inside.

The two boys waited silently, listening for the tell-tale noises of movement within the wall cavity. It wasn’t long before Bandit made another appearance, the little black nose twitching as the kit cautiously emerged through the hole and tentatively advanced toward Gordon’s hand. Gordon spoke words of encouragement to Bandit and tried to make coaxing “raccoon noises”.

“Come on, that’s it.” He made a few squeaky sucking noises through his teeth. “Come get some yummy banana.”

The coaxing noises gave way to sounds Virgil recognised as Gordon’s too-excited-by-the-cute-animal-for-real-words vocalisations as Bandit began licking at Gordon’s gloved fingertips and making vocalisations of its own. Each time the kit stopped licking Gordon inched his hand a little nearer to the exit of the vent and Bandit followed, drawn by the tantalising promise of more of the tasty fruit. Bandit’s little paws tried to grab onto Gordon’s fingers, perhaps to stop them moving away, but the gradual progress towards the vent continued.

When Gordon had withdrawn his arm far enough for them to be able to see without the flashlight Virgil turned his attention to the prospect of containing the little critter. He broke off a little more of the banana and placed it on the towels inside the laundry bin to encourage the kit inside. Gordon was talking to Bandit again, softly, soothing, encouraging the kit to keep edging closer to the edge. His hand was all the way out now, held just in front of the opening and Bandit’s head was tentatively peeking out into the room. The little nose still twitched, the tiny paws kept reaching out to hold fingers or bits of mushy banana. Ever so slowly Gordon moved his other hand into position above the vent and while Bandit was busily focusing on the banana smeared hand he gently took hold of the kit and lifted him out. Moving both hands in tandem, and with Virgil bringing the laundry bin close, Bandit was quickly transferred into the little nest. Gordon kept the hand with the food close to Bandit, moving it towards the banana pieces Virgil had placed in there. Soon Bandit was holding a piece of fruit in tiny paws and Gordon withdrew his hand altogether.

Making sure Bandit was as comfortable as possible the boys placed the lid firmly on the laundry bin, and shared a high five. Now they just had to remove the fruit and nuts from the ducting, replace the vent cover, clean up the mess they’d made in Gordon’s room, tell their Dad about Bandit and the potential family of raccoons somewhere in the house, reunite Bandit with the rest of the family and safely re-home all the raccoons. Should be easy, right?

#fishtank week 2023 #fishtank day 4 #thunderbirds fanfiction #thunderbirds are go #virgil tracy #gordon tracy #fluff #wee tracys

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meltypop · 2 years

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Whump + Misunderstanding Prompts

Whump + Misunderstandings prompts because I live and breathe for this specific brand of h/c

Non-shippy

- “You’re just doing this for attention, quit with the drama already!”

Character is suffering from some kind of sickness or injury and actively try not to bring attention to themself (past abuse, low self-esteem, pride, etc…). As it gets worse, they start to become less able to hide the visible signs, but because they never said anything about it when it started, another character assumes they are faking their malady for attention, leading them emotionally devastated and trying even harder to hide their pain, even when it becomes almost unbearable. Eventually, they full-on collapse, and the other character is shocked, wishing they had been kinder and taken them seriously.

- “Oh, I see. You don’t want to go to school/work/whatever. Well, you’re not playing hooky on my watch!”

Character wakes up sick one day and tells a character they live with that they don’t think they can fulfill whatever obligation they usually have that day. However, this character is known to be a bit of a slacker, or has maybe faked a mild illness to get out of work/school in the past, so they aren’t easily believed. They are forced to go anyway, which leads to them getting worse and worse as the day goes on. Either they power through the day and the terrible condition they’re in is finally noticed after they get back home, or they collapse/puke/alert the attention of an authority figure and are sent back home to their apologetic friend/family/lover.

- “Everyone else is pulling their weight, why can’t you?”

Character is part of some kind of group that is collectively working on an urgent and important task; naturally, this is the time when their body chooses to fall ill or get hurt somehow. They don’t want to be the only one not working, so they try and push through. Only, no matter how hard they push themself, they can’t seem to even come close to the amount of work that their healthy friends are able to put in. It doesn’t go unnoticed, either, and their reputation begins to suffer from their supposed laziness. Still, they don’t mention a thing about what’s going on with them, only promising that they will try to be better. However, what’s impossible is impossible, so they end up collapsing/puking/bleeding/coughing/whatever dramatically reveals the state they're in to the people around them, who are very concerned and baffled as to why they kept it a secret for so long.

- “If you’re just gonna sulk the whole time, why don’t you just wait in the car?”

Character has to go to some kind of social event, but they’re feeling really under the weather today. They struggle to maintain smiles and small talk, and their discomfort is apparent to both the person/people they are with and those that they are trying to impress. Eventually, the person they came with has had enough and angrily tells them to go wait outside in the car/on the bench/whatever until they can learn how to enthusiastically smile and nod (bonus if it’s a really hot day outside). They miserable wait for their friend(s) to emerge, eventually losing the battle of staying conscious. A few hours later, their friend emerges to find them curled up and unresponsive (burning with fever/clammy and freezing cold/overheated from being outside?? In a hot car?) and has to rush them to emergency care.

Shippy

- “You’ve flaked on our last couple of dates. You don’t want to see me anymore, is that it?”

Character is suffering from some kind of something (sickness, injury, anxiety, depression, exhaustion, etc…) that makes them not want to leave their room very often. They end up canceling on their s/o several times, something they feel awful about but can’t really help it. They don’t want to worry their lover, so they make up excuses. Eventually, their s/o catches onto the pattern, but instead of noticing that they’re looking not-so-good as of late, they assume that they’ve done something to offend the character and that they don’t wish to see them anymore. Feeling hurt, their s/o withdrawals, unintentionally leaving that person without any support during one of their greatest times of need.

- “You’ve been coming home late for weeks, and you expect me to believe you’re just.. ‘working overtime’?”

Character and their s/o have been having some kind of money troubles, or maybe there is a birthday or holiday coming up, and they want to make some kind of expensive, romantic gesture. They aren’t very well off, so they take on a back-breaking amount of overtime. Just as they’re starting to really feel the exhaustion compound on them, their s/o starts to become suspicious of their behavior, as the amount of hours they claim to be working would be really unhealthy. Therefore, it must be an excuse for them to be going off at night and seeing someone else. Except, they aren’t. They are really and truly working themself to death, and their s/o really wishes they’d noticed before they accused them of cheating.

- “You’d really rather be with that jerk than me? Fine, I guess the two of you are made for each other.”

Character is being taken advantage of by someone in some way or another. Maybe this person is posing as another potential lover, or just a friend or coworker, but this character’s “closeness” with them leads their s/o to believe that they are being put on the backburner and given less attention than they deserve. Meanwhile, the character is being made miserable, being forced to spend all of their time doing something for this person, and never seems to get any time alone with their s/o anymore. They are too afraid of the repercussions (verbal or possibly even physical) from their tormenter to admit that they are in a bad situation while in earshot. As a result, they end up pushing the person who is closest to them further and further away as their abuser gets them into a tighter and tighter grip.

#whump #whump prompt #writing prompt #fics #misunderstanding #sickness #injury #fever #unconscious #exhaustion #hurt/comfort

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whumptober · 2 years

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Thank you guys for being so chill about participation and how specific the prompts have to be and stuff. I actually put my first ever fix on AO3 and tumblr today for whumptober, and I haven't really felt that scared about it cause you (and the whump community as a whole) are so nice!

Anyway, thanks for taking so much time to put this together and respond to everyone's questions and be such genuinely kind human beings!!!

Hello, thank you very much for such kind words! Congratulations on your first fic, and we're very happy to hear that the community has been kind to you!

We try to make sure that we can ease people's stress where we can, and encourage everyone to enjoy themselves! It's lovely to get asks like this, it makes us feel very appreciated, so thank you!

- mod claire

#asks #stuffmyfriendssay #mod claire #whumptober2022 #thank you!

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genuineformality · 1 year

Text

With the first month long challenge I did, I set myself a difficult, but ultimately very rewarding goal of creating a cohesive story from a bunch of whump prompts. Some of the chapters of that are pretty good and some I was definitely just trying to weave in the prompt to make the story go so I could get to a more interesting part. But I achieved my goal of writing a little bit every day and had a pretty cohesive bit of fiction at the end.

What I didn’t realize at the time was that in doing that, I gave myself a specific and set goal with guidelines and rules that are just the right sort to tickle my chronically dopamine deficient brain into playing nicely with me.

(Like many chronically dopamine deficient folk, I both abhor being in and yet ironically thrive in structured environments and I accidentally created the precise structure in which I would excel. Will I ever intentionally achieve this again? Who knows.)

For this month’s challenge, I wanted to stretch into some other fandoms that I occasionally read but have never published in. I’m not particularly “in” those fandoms in the same way that I am “in” SoC, but the beautiful thing about fandom is that there is no minimum amount of participation you need to have to just show up, drop a few hundred words of fic, and wander out again.

The downside of this is that because I have given myself no other rules for this challenge other than to write something for each prompt each day, I am faced with incredible choice paralysis. Some of these prompts I know exactly what I’m going to write and how I’m going to approach it. Many of them, I open my doc and stare at the prompt, force myself to write a few paragraphs in whatever fandom I can summon some words for and sometimes those paragraphs turn into something more once I get started.

(I understand that the reason prompt drops for month long challenges happen well before the event is so people can plan and work ahead, then post on the relevant days. But let’s face it: I will never be the sort of person who does that and if I’m not frantically writing ahead of a real or imagined deadline, it will never happen. Why do I do this to myself? Mysteries abound.)

So what am I doing this morning? Is it writing for today’s prompt or the ones I missed last week while I was on work travel?

No, absolutely not. I am 100% procrastinating by telling you all about my inability to make my words go.

#fanfic #useless maundering

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ashintheairlikesnow · 3 years

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can we see chris just having a good day with like some happy stims? he is a huge comfort character for me and seeing an autistic OC who has the same stims i do and stims openly is just. amazing. sorry for no sentence prompt!

Of course, Anon! I know what I’ll do for this one, definitely.

CW: WRU/BBU and some pet whump references but this is pure fluff

Jake looks up, squinting as he hears a sudden thumping from the roof over his head, the kitchen light shaking very slightly. “Good or bad, d’you think?” He asks, and glances over at Kauri, who is leaning his back against the kitchen counter, sipping coffee from a mug shaped like a unicorn, his fingers wrapped around its rainbow tail. One ceramic eye seems locked on Jake.

“Fuck if I know,” Kauri responds, squinting. He’s been awake for twenty minutes and clearly has not had enough coffee yet to join the world under anything but serious protest. “It’s too early for anyone to have strong feelings, Jake.”

“It’s seven,” Jake says, gently, but he can’t help his smile. “You should’ve gone to bed before two, Kaur.”

“Used to be easier staying up all night. When did that change?”

“When you got old.”

Kauri glares at him, and Jake gives him a look of serene innocence in return. “You’re older than I am.”

“Yeah, and I also don’t go to bed at two and get up at six anymore without a damn good reason, now do I?”

Kauri snorts. The thumping starts back up above their heads, and Jake sighs, pushing himself out of his chair.

“Okay, I’m going to go up there and see what’s going on. He keeps that up, he’ll wake up my household, and not one of them isn’t in dire need of as much sleep as they can get.”

“Mmmn. I’m going to finish this coffee and go back to bed.” When Jake raises an eyebrow, Kauri grins at him. “I didn’t say I would sleep, now did I?”

Jake’s kiss is brief but forceful before he turns to head upstairs and see what has Chris making that kind of noise this early in the morning. It could be good or bad - but things haven’t really been too rough lately. Chris is doing fine in school, his friends are good, he and Laken started talking about living together next year... Jake runs through the list and he can’t find anything of concern, not now, not in this odd period of something like peace. Still, he worries.

Part of being somebody’s brother, he supposes, and finds a smile playing across his face. The eternal thought of I’m somebody’s big brother, popping in now and then, to remind him that how he started isn’t where he is now, and never has to be.

Chris’s door is closed and Jake knocks politely, the thumping stopping. Chris flings open the door, eyes shining and bright, wearing only his compression shirt and loose pajama pants, clearly interrupted during the process of getting dressed. Behind him, Jake can see a large blue t-shirt laid out on the bed, from the museum he went to with Laken a few weeks ago. It as some kind of dinosaur skeleton in black on the front, like a T-rex but Jake knows it’s not actually a T-Rex. He can’t remember what Chris said it was. Next to the shirt is his stim bracelet and a stim necklace, a flat black bat today instead of his usual feathers.

As always, Jake hides the wince at the sight of his forehead scar, fading slowly but still too bright and red for his liking. Too permanent. Visible evidence that when it mattered, Jake couldn’t get in to him in time.

“You’re shaking the house,” Jake says, scanning Chris’s expression, but all he sees is sparkling brightness, a smile playing there, fighting his attempts to look serious. “What’s up?”

“He, he called,” Chris says, quick and rushed, and lets go of the door, stepping back, bouncing on the balls of his bare feet on the hardwood floor. “He called, Jake!”

“Who? About what?” Jake steps in, closing the door slowly behind him, leaning back to watch Chris spin and then stop and start bouncing again, almost jumping, his hands flapping rapidly and eyes closed. Jake thinks with a pang of regret about how his longer hair used to float around him like a halo when he was happy like this. Now there’s hardly enough to even move at all.

He’s so fucking excited, though, whatever it is...

“He, he, he-he called!”

“Chris, hey, who called? What’s going on? Is this about getting an apartment? Did Laken hear back from-”

“No!” Chris stops long enough to look at him, breathing hard, but even when he stops bouncing his hands are still moving, almost a blur in the air. He can’t keep his body from moving, and fuck if it isn’t something Jake loves to see. He can still remember the silent statue they’d brought into the house that first rainy night, the frightened, dehumanized rescued teenager that had bloomed into pure sunshine in human form and now Jake watches a grown man who doesn’t police his own excitement. “I mean. No. No, it’s, it’s not... no. Jake, do, do you-... when Laken and I went to to the museum, the natural history museum? Do you remember?”

“Yeah, man, it was a few weeks ago. I don’t-... I don’t follow. How does that-”

“The, the, the Romantic I saw! I, I gave him one of our our numbers, you remember? Do you remember?”

“Yeah... yeah, I do remember you saying-” The full picture hits Jake all at once and he nods, slowly, feeling a smile of his own echo Chris’s expression. “He called? That’s who you mean? The Romantic-”

“Nine texted me,” Chris says, breathless almost, his hands moving, his body bouncing, a low hum coming from him between sentences, fading long enough for him to breathe.

Jake has seen Chris so many versions of happy, but never quite the same as this. The closest is maybe when his college acceptance letter came, when they got the proof that all of Chris’s work for nearly five years had been enough to get him back on track to the life WRU had interrupted.

Not stolen. Not for good. Not now.

“He, he, he he he-he called, he called, they’re gonna go go go get him, they, they, um, they’re gonna go get Rafael, he’s, they’re gonna get him, it worked, it worked it worked it worked-”

Chris flings himself forwards and Jake’s back smacks into the closed door behind him. He lets out a soft ‘oof’ but holds Chris tight, feeling him still moving even now, hands shifting easily into finger-twist-tap-tap-tap on Jake’s sides, his arms. He laughs against Jake’s shoulder, bright and brilliant laughter, and Jake finds himself laughing, too.

“Well, how about that? You did it, Chris.”

“I, I, I did it,” Chris whispers, and he rocks into Jake, and this is so familiar, now, too. “I did it, Jake, I, I did it, it worked, I did it, I, I... I, I helped someone. I, I helped someone get get get get out, I helped someone.”

“You did. I’m fucking proud of you, man.” Jake doesn’t mention that the escapes don’t always go to plan, or how common it is for Romantics specifically to try and go back once they run headfirst into starting over. He doesn’t want to mention it, anyway.

“Do, do, do, do you think I could see him? When they find him somewhere? Do you, you-you think?” Chris pulls back to look up at him, and Jake smiles down. “Will he want to, to see me? Do you think?”

“I think so.” Jake lets him pull back so he can go back to moving, watching Chris full to overflowing with pride in himself and happiness for the other pet, a buzzing energy he doesn’t hesitate, not by now, to allow to find its own way out. “I know I would, if it were me you saved.”

Chris pauses and looks over at him. “I would, too. Save, save you. I would. If it it it were you.”

“I know. What are brothers for?” He’s rewarded with another dazzling smile. “I’ll tell Kauri you need to shake the house for a while longer, okay?”

Chris wrinkles his nose. “Why, why is Kauri up? We didn’t stop watching the-the-the movie until two.”

“Yeah.” Jake grins moving back out the door into the hallway. “And he’s regretting all his choices today. Tell Nine I said hey.”

He closes the door again and moves back to the stairs, unaware that at the end of the hall, Eli’s door is cracked open and the quietest current member of the house stares out at his back, mouthing Nine?

Then Eli closes the door.

Jake gets downstairs to find Kauri staring outside at a tree. “Hey, Kaur, so-”

“I hate that bird,” Kauri says, and takes another sip. “It’s too early to be so fucking cheerful.”

Tagging: @burtlederp , @finder-of-rings , @endless-whump , @whumpfigure , @astrobly @newandfiguringitout , @doveotions , @pretty-face-breaker , @gonna-feel-that-tomorrow @boxboysandotherwhump , @oops-its-whump @cubeswhump , @whump-tr0pes @downriver914 @vickytokio @whumpiary

Rafael appeared in these three drabbles

#chris asks #chris the strawberry blond romantic #jake the shelter guy #pure fluff #original fiction #wru #bbu #box boy #box boy universe #happy stims #erase to control #pet whump references #brief but there

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inevitably-johnlocked · 3 years

Note

STEPH I ACCIDENTLY REWATCHED TSOT AND NOW I'M FUCKING SOBBING. I JUST HAVEN'T WATCHED THE ACTUAL SHOW IN FOREVER AND FORGOT HOW SAD SHERLOCK LOOKS IN THIS EPISODE. GOD. so yeah i just wanted some fics where john & sherlock dance together, whether it be at a/their wedding, "for a case", some kind of ball, or my favorite- sherlock teaching john to dance. it's maybe one of my favorite situations/tropes in media. (also welcome back!! and i love you <3)

Hi Lovely!!!

AHHHH I’ve been putting a “dancing” list together before I even had a system in place to do my lists, so I’m going to use your ask as an excuse to finally post it because I can’t find the original ask, LOL LOL!!!

And to pad out the list, I’m adding any that I’ve tagged from my MFL List, so I hope you enjoy that, LOL.

As usual, add your own, friends!! Hope you enjoy!!!

DANCING

You Lead, I Lead, You Follow, I Follow by BrighteyedJill (M, 862 w., 1 Ch. || Fever, H/C, John Whump) – John wakes up after a chase gone wrong to find Sherlock watching over him, but he’s a little hazy on the details.

Velvet by headlessjess (G, 1,155 w., 1 Ch. || Pining, Angst, Jealous Sherlock, Loneliness, Sad Fic) – It's the day, the wedding day - John and Mary, getting married. And then there's Sherlock, in pain and in love, without knowing how to deal with it.

Your love it feels so good by Hotaru_Tomoe (E, 2,843 w., 1 Ch. || Gay Club / Gay Bar, Lingerie, Stripping, Anal) – Sherlock is last at a quiz night and is forced by Anderson to perform in a gay stripclub. John must be with him, because he will have to record the performance. Sherlock takes the task very seriously. Part 20 of The English job

Behind Closed Curtains by twisting_vine_x (G, 2,939 w., 1 Ch. || Dancing, Angst, Pre-Slash) – Set loosely during season two, when Sherlock and John are still, ahem, dancing around each other. Sherlock teaches John how to dance.

Unimpressed by 221b_hound (M, 3,106 w., 1 Ch. || New Year’s Eve, Dancing, Jealousy) – Sherlock has no intention of attending the Met's New Year's Eve party. The start of a new year is all but meaningless to him. But he ends up there anyway, having odd conversations, and John does not find Sherlock's jealousy the slightest bit cute. And then there is dancing. Part 10 of Unkissed

Every Step of the Way by Shi_Toyu (G, 3,795 w., 1 Ch. || Car Accident, John Whump, Hurt/Comfort, Caretaking, Pre-Slash) – When John is injured on a case, Sherlock can't forgive himself. Everyone expects him to give up on his flatmate and get bored, but he'll prove them all wrong by sticking with him...every step of the way.

No Good Without You by textsandscones (T, 4,021 w., 1 Ch. || Case Fic, Sherlock’s Violin, Dancing, Soppy Fluff) – A diverting new case surrounding musicians and stolen instruments captures Sherlock's attention, the consequences of which lead both detective and doctor to see one another in a different light. Part 1 of Prompt Fills

Living Musical by VeeTheRee (G, 4,149 w. 1 Ch. || Est. Rel., Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Hobbies, Summer, Song Fic, POV Sherlock, Painting, Play Fighting, Soft Sherlock, Dancing, Love Declarations, Hair Petting, Promise of Forever) – A one-shot of John and Sherlock being domestic during summer. There is paint, fluff, and music from Imagine Dragons, namely from the album 'Speak To Me', specific song in this one-shot is 'Living Musical'. Part 1 of the Happy Fluffy Johnlock Time series

But Tonight You Belong to Me by esplanade (T, 4,296 w., 1 Ch. || Fluff & Angst, Pining, Stag Night, Sad Ending) – “You. It's always you. John Watson, you keep me right.”

The Dance Lesson by bittergreens (G, 4,596 w., 1 Ch. || TSo3 Missing Scene, Dancing, Pining Sherlock, URT/UST, Romance, Angst, POV John) – Sherlock teaches John to dip. Part 1 of Goodnight, Vienna

Sway by CrackedMetal (K+, 4,602 w., 1 Ch. || Romance, Drama, Dancing, Mary is Nice, Canon Divergence, Song Fic) – Sherlock doesn't leave the reception and Mary wants the best friends to have a moment to talk… So she suggests a dance. Johnlock with a side of John/Mary.

Sherlock and John Go Clubbing by wendymarlowe (E, 4,716 w., 3 Ch. || Clubbing, Dirty Talk, Dancing, Coming Untouched, Coming in Pants, Bi John, For a Case, Friends to Lovers, Flirting, Sherlock is Lost for Words, Sexy John, Mutual Pining, Possessive John, Floor Sex) – John pinched the bridge of his nose - even for Sherlock, this was a new level of no bloody boundaries. “You want me to go with you to a gay club, wait around twiddling my thumbs while I let you get pawed by a criminal, then out-flirt him and talk you into coming home with me instead?” Part 32 of John and Sherlock's Kinky First Times

a very soft epilogue (my love) by darcylindbergh (E, 5,395 w., 3 Ch. || Retirement, Domestic Fluff, Dancing, Dogs, Grumpy Old Men) – Across the pillows, Sherlock shifts and hums, the creases of his face deepening and then smoothing before settling. John watches him wake up, his chest swelling with affection and fondness, and thinks he’ll never get tired of Sherlock in the mornings, sleepy and soft. It’s been some forty-odd years, and John hasn’t gotten tired of it yet. Part 5 of things fairy tales are made of

Second Waltz by Atiki (T, 6,685 w., 1 Ch. || MCD, Angst, Fluff, Cancer) – "The night I died, you wished I could wait for you."

What I Hide By My Language, My Body Utters by PixChuu22 (M, 9,047 w., 1 Ch. || Fake Relationship, For a Case, Friends to Lovers) - Based on a prompt from Tumblr user thetwogaydetectives - “fake relationship that ends up being so real, they finally realize they are in love.”

Down with this Ship by FrostedFlame (PinkOrchid) (M, 10,862 w., 10 Ch. || For a Case, Gay Bar, Pining Sherlock, Coming Out, Slow Burn) – Sherlock drags John undercover to a gay bar - for a case, of course - looking forward to seeing John flustered by their surroundings (since you know, he's NOT GAY). John decides that he has hidden both his orientation and his feelings for his daft flatmate for far too long. He is done hiding, time to be honest with his bloody best friend in the world. He just hopes it won't change anything between them. And then it does.

the first day of forever by darcylindbergh (E, 11,850 w., 8 Ch. || Est. Relationship, Domestics, Light Angst, Insecurity, Emotional H/C) – “I’m going to marry you,” John murmurs with against Sherlock’s smile, and they both giggle in the joy of it. “We’re getting married.” “Yes,” Sherlock says, just to hear himself say it out loud. “We are.” A June wedding. Part 4 of things fairy tales are made of

All the Girls Love a Soldier by Book7BrokeMyBrain (E, 12,951 w., 1 Ch. || Military Kink, Frottage, Domesticity, Post S3, Pining Sherlock, Kilt John, Wedding, Dancing) – John is invited to a stag party and a wedding. The related accoutrement suit Sherlock to a T.

Twelfth Night by yourdykeinshiningarmor (E, 15,139 w., 5 Ch. || Fake Relationship, Christmas, Mutual Pining, Friends to Lovers, Angst & Fluff, BJ’s, Anal) – John is invited to his aunt's Twelfth Night ball. Sherlock offers to attend with him as a friendly face among strangers, but John's family force him to address his true feelings for Sherlock.

I Think I've Come A Long Long Way To Sit Before You Here Today by ArwenKenobi (T, 18,251 w., 3 Ch. || Grief/Mourning, Passage of Time, Major Character Death, Alternating POV, Sherlock Whump, Pining Sherlock, Hospitalization, Coma, Revenge Murders, Hallucinations, Love Confessions, Brutal Accident, Mystrade, Ghost John) – One year after John is killed Sherlock starts to wonder whether John has actually gone anywhere.

Out of the Woods by SilentAuror (E, 20,471 w., 1 Ch. || Post S4, Romance, Slow Burn, Flirting, Drunk Sex, Practical Jokes, POV Sherlock, Bottomlock, Possessive John, Pining Sherlock, Frustrated Wanking, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs, First Kiss/Time, Virgin Sherlock, Love Confessions, Soft Sherlock, Dancing, Bum Appreciation, Hanging out with the Yard) – Sherlock is fairly certain that John has taken to flirting with him of late, but can't be entirely certain of it. At least, not until a case takes them into a forest, along with Lestrade's team and something happens that will change everything about their lives...

Sonatina in G Minor by SilentAuror (E, 22,574 w., 1 Ch. || Case Fic, POV Sherlock, Angst, UST, Sherlock’s Violin, Post-S3, Romance) – John has come back to Baker Street, but Sherlock doesn't understand the strange tension between them, even after he begins teaching John to play the violin at John's request.

a good old-fashioned happy ending by darcylindbergh (E, 32,731 w., 26 Ch. || Christmas, Frottage, Comfort, Est. Rel., Fluff, Insecure Sherlock, Frottage, Nightmares, Sleepy Sherlock, Marriage Proposal, Humour, Fluff, Dancing, Cooking, Happy Ending) – For Christmas this year, Sherlock wants to get John something special: something every fairytale deserves. Part 2 of things fairy tales are made of

we have never seen a greater day than this by Lediona (T, 36,420 w., 7 Ch. || A Royal Night Out AU || WWII / VE Day, Prince Sherlock, Soldier John, Alternating POV, First Kiss, Bittersweet Ending, Homophobia, Dancing) – Peace. At long last. It’s VE Day and Prince William desires to join the celebrations. It is a night of excitement, danger and the first flutters of romance.

Guilty Secrets by Ellipsical (E, 55,086 w., 16 Ch. || Drumsticks, First Kiss/Time, Love Confession, Self-Sexual-Discovery, Anal, Rimming, Orgasim Denial, Butt Plugs, Cooking, Furniture Sex, Bath Sex, Rimming, Double Penetration, Anal Beads, Dancing, Romance, Tantric Edging) – John has a prostate exam and discovers something surprising about himself. Experimentation follows. Sherlock wants to help. They're in love. You know the drill.

The Bells of King's College by SilentAuror (E, 64,019 w., 5 Ch. || Post-S4, Missed Opportunities, Angst with Happy Ending, Fake Relationship, Case Fic, John POV, Jealous John, John in Denial, Travelling / Holidays, Virgin Sherlock, Wedding Proposals) – It's only been two weeks since Eurus Holmes disrupted their lives when Mycroft sends John and Sherlock to Cambridge to pose as an engaged couple at a wedding show in the hopes of solving six unsolved deaths...

Hell Sent, Heaven Bound by ConsultingHound (M, 64,381 w, 16 Ch. || Angels / Demons AU || Fallen Angel Sherlock / Angel Cop John, Alternate First Meeting, Slow Burn, Case Fic, John & Lestrade are Friends Before Sherlock, BAMF John, Mind Palace John, Friends to Lovers, John in Denial, Sherlock Picks Out John’s Clothing, Clubbing / Dancing, Mildly Jealous John, Awkwardness, Kidnapping, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Sacrifice, Worried / Anxious Sherlock, Angst with Happy Ending, Immortal to Mortal) – Ex-War healer and current angelic guard John Watson is not having the best day. He overslept, he’s underpaid, and now there’s someone tagging the Council’s building walls. However things may be about to get interesting: there’s an unusual stranger hanging around (the definition of tall, dark, and handsome), a literal underground cult is brewing, and rumblings are coming from hell. Can he keep his neighbourhood safe, how and why is he being connected to all this, and who the hell is Sherlock Holmes?

White Knight by DiscordantWords (M, 69,840 w., 13 Ch. || S4 Compliant/Post S4, Marriage For a Case, Jealous John, Pining John, Janine / Sherlock Fake Relationship, Serial Killers, Case Fic, Undercover as a Couple, Weddings, John is a Mess, Misunderstandings, Wedding Planning, Jealousy, Drunkenness, Love Confessions, Angst with Happy Ending) – Green. The word green was used to convey a great many things. Illness. Envy. Inexperience. Standing there amidst Janine's chattering bridesmaids, watching Sherlock furrow his brow and study fabric swatches, watching him smile and simper and flirt, John thought it a remarkably apt colour choice. Because he felt quite sick to his stomach, he feared the source of said sickness might very well be jealousy, and he had absolutely no idea at all what to do about it. Or: Sherlock needs to fake a relationship for a case. He doesn't ask John.

Not Broken, Just Bent by Schmiezi (E, 87,585 w., 43 Ch. || Pining, Love Confessions, Torture, Hurt/Comfort, Heavy Angst, Villain!Mary, Suicidal Ideations, Main Character Death, Sherlock POV, Eventual Happy Ending) – "For a second, I allow myself to remember teaching John how to waltz. There is a special room in my mind palace for it. A big one, with a proper parquet dance floor. For a second, I go there. I remember holding him, closer than the World Dance Council asks for, excusing it with the fact that we are training for a wedding, not for a competition. For a second, I feel his hand on mine again, smell his sweat, hear the song we used. For a second, I allow myself to love him deeply. For a second, only a second, that love reflects on my face." Fix-it for S3, starting at the end of TSoT. Evil Mary.

Shatter the Darkness (Let the Light In) by MojoFlower (E, 109,683 w., 23 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Genie/Djinn AU || Magical Realism, Kidnapping, Genie Sherlock, First Kiss / Time, Case Fic, H/C, Angst, Clubs, John Whump, Mild DubCon, Hand / Blow Jobs, Torture) – Fairy tales are for those who remember how to dream; not John Watson, broken and hiding from his bleak future in a beige bedsit. But then he discovers a lamp and finds himself in the dangerous riptide of an enigmatic man whose very existence is unbelievable, murder charges against his sister, and the growing pains of feeling alive once more.

Proving A Point by elldotsee & J_Baillier (E, 186,270 w., 28 Ch. || Me Before You Fusion || Medical Realism, Insecure John, Depression, Romance, Angst, POV John, Sherlock Whump, Serious Illness, Doctor John, Injury Recovery, Assisted Suicide, Sherlock’s Violin, Awkward Sexual Situations, Alcoholism, Drugs, Idiots in Love, Slow Burn, Body Image, Friends to Lovers, Hurt / Comfort, Pain, Big Brother Mycroft, Intimacy, Anxiety, PTSD, Family Issues, Psychological Trauma, John Whump, Case Fics, Loneliness, Pain) – Invalided home from Afghanistan, running out of funds and convinced that his surgical career is over, John Watson accepts a mysterious job offer to provide care and companionship for a disabled person. Little does he know how much hangs in the balance of his performance as he settles into his new life at Musgrave Court.

MARKED FOR LATER

He really can’t breathe. by Luna_sharp618 (NR, 696 w., 1 Ch. || Pining Sherlock, Dancing, Sherlock Teaching John to Dance, TSo3 Fic) – In which Sherlock teaches John how to dip his dance partner for the wedding and has some pining thoughts.

The Gay Bar Scene that never was by MadSophHatter (T, 1,372 w., 1 Ch. || TSo3, Gay Bar Scene, Confused Sherlock, Jealous John, Humour) – The gay bar scene from The Sign of Three as I envisioned it. Featuring a confused Sherlock, halfnaked men, sexy dancing and John who is absolutely not jealous.

Tango by standbygo (M, 1,424 w., 1 Ch. || Different First Meeting, Dancing) – “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” “Shut up and dance – a man’s alibi depends on it.”

Operation Synchronous by Daziechane (NR, 1,691 w., 1 Ch. || Dancer Sherlock, Lip Synch Battle, Abuse Of Umbrellas, Bets) – Sherlock never welches on a bet. That doesn't mean he'll give in easily, however.

on his mouth like liquor by chrysanthemumsies (T, 1,780 w., 1 Ch. || TSo3, Stag Night, Gay Bar, Romance, Dancing, First Kiss, Fluff) – The gay bar scene from Stag night that the creators didn't want to show! Pure crack with a bit of angst and a whole lotta fluff (if you squint). Sherlock and John on the dance floor - what's not to love?

Take me to Baker Street by MorganeUK (G, 2,087 w., 1 Ch. || Adult Ballet AU || Ballet Dancer Sherlock, Doctor John, Song Fic, Pre-Slash) – I always loved Sergei Polunin interpretation of Take me to the church so I decided to write a version where Sherlock is a ballet dancer in serious need of a doctor…

May I Have This Dance? by ScaryFairy13 (G, 2,297 w., 1 Ch. || Slow Dancing, Fluff, First Kiss, Wedding) – John drags Sherlock to Greg's and Molly's wedding. Dancing ensues as well as the discovery of certain sentimental feelings.

Under the Lights by CarmillaCarmine (E, 2,872 w., 1 Ch. || TSo3 Fix It, Stag Night, Gay Club, First Time, Dancing) – Following Sherlock’s map marked with all the streets where they had found a corpse, John and Sherlock stumbled into a gay club. Part 1 of TSoT Fix-It

Dirty by standbygo (E, 5,093 w., 1 Ch. || Established Relationship, PWP, Dirty Dancing, Romance, Smut and Fluff) – “Yeah, I actually learned how to dance like that, like in the film. I was quite the hit at parties while the craze lasted. Some of Harry’s friends called me Johnny Castle, after the character. Or Swayze.” “Swayze? What kind of word is that?” John did not reply, but gazed at Sherlock, his lips pressed together but still smiling. After a moment, he stood and held out his hand to Sherlock. “Dance with me,” John said.

The Posh Purple Pirate (Enter My Life and Make Me Drown) by Loveismyrevolution (E, 7,408 w., 1 Ch. || Exotic Dancer AU || Alternate First Meeting, Strangers to Lovers, For a Case, Lap Dancing, Hand Job, First Kiss, Pirate Sherlock, Drama Queen Sherlock, Dancer Sherlock) – When Mike Stamford invited him to a fun night out, John Watson never expected it would become such a wild ride - captivated by an enigmatic pirate his life suddenly gains speed in an unexpected direction. Part 1 of PirateDragQueenVerse

Life's Uneven Kilter by theslovenlyfool (T, 14,877 w., 4 Ch. || Canon Divergence S3, BAMF John, Secretly Married, Camp Gay Sherlock, Dancing, John is a Good Actor, Fake Relationship, Mycroft Plays a Role) – "According to Sherlock, the game began on September 21, 2005 at precisely 10:37:04 am. John complained that, with that logic, the game had actually begun on January 7, 2000, at around 1:30 am. But for Sherlock, games are only fun when others are willing to play. What is a game without an adversary, after all? And what is a proper dash across London without a partner? Now, Sherlock thought as he assessed the doctor with the unforgivable cane, the game is on."

Thirteen Dances (Or, The Doctor Dances) by Knackorcraft (E, 17,544 w., 13 Ch. || Dirty Dancing, Tango, Ballet, Frottage) – John is a great dancer: we're talking all types. Not only is he able to pop and lock it, he's got some great ballet technique. He was best at lifting / holding girls.

The One Where Sherlock Doesn’t Ruin John’s Holiday by nutmeag83 (T, 18,898 w., 11 Ch. || Pre-TRF / S2 Timeline, Friends to Lovers, Cruise Ships, Vacation / Holidays, Fake Relationship, For Science, Bed Sharing, Cuddling/Snuggling, Mutual Pining, John POV, Minor Case Fic, Cooking, Dancing, Drunk Shenanigans) – John wins a cruise vacation for two and brings Sherlock along. But when it turns out to be a couples cruise, they have to pretend to be a couple themselves (for science). How many pretend kisses will it take before they can’t deny their feelings any longer?

Lockdown by johnwatso and Salambo06 (E, 23,376 w., 20 Ch. || Quarantine, COVID-19, Lockdown, Fluff, Parentlock, Reunion, Dancing, Soft Idiots, Sex Toys) – The world is in lockdown due to Covid-19. This is how Sherlock and John spend their time.

Dance With Me by Silvergirl (E, 24,813 w., 12 Ch. || Post TEH, Dancing, Met Charity Gala, Sally/Sherlock Friendship, No Mary, Fluff) – Sherlock rescues Sally Donovan, and in turn she tries to help him get John to stop faffing about and get on with Johnlock.

Mountebank by Odamaki (M, 26,514 w., 2 Ch. || Fake Relationship/Dating/Marriage, For A Case, Jealous John, Suits, House Party, Crack, Trapped, UST, Dancing, Idiots in Love, Confessions, Friends to Lovers) – “I am calm,” John snaps, leaning on the door to glare out at the dark streets around them. Sherlock’s not said where they’re going; all he knows is they came off the ring road to the west of London and have vanished somewhere into the depths of Berkshire. All he knows is that he’s been trussed up in a suit that wasn’t hired from anywhere and if brought new would edge up into the triple figure margins. “Be calmer,” Sherlock advises, with a trace of irony. “We’re going to a party.” Part 29 of the The Sherlexicon

Time Of My Life by fiveainley_ohmy (E, 29,719 w., 8 Ch. || Dirty Dancing Fusion || Bisexual John, Dancing, Gay/Demi Sherlock) – John Watson takes his alcoholic sister to a summer camp in attempt to rehabilitate her. He didn't expect to fall in love with the dance instructor.

Brooklyn Heat, Summer Jazz by Zigster (E, 41,820 w., 10 Ch. || New York Ballet AU || Jazz Pianist John, Ballet Dancer Sherlock, Modern Setting, Brooding Sherlock , Confused John, Non-Linear Storytelling, Sexual Tension, Angst, Alcohol / Pot / Club Drug Use, First Time, Not-Good Mycroft, Happy Ending) – "There was, however, one thing that made it easier to stay on his piano bench every day. One thing that kept John Watson showing up to class on time, every morning at ten with a large thermos of honeyed tea and a conviction to see a job well done. His name was Sherlock Holmes and he was the most confounding and extraordinary thing John had ever come across - the most exotic of birds and the most unattainable of men."

Blond Barista Seeks Dashing Ballet Dancer: Inquire Within by prettysailorsoldier (E, 43,847 w., 1 Ch. || Unilock Coffee Shop AU || Rugby/Barista John, Ballet Dancer Sherlock, Fluff) – Between classes, his job at a local cafe, and being captain of the rugby team, John Watson's life is plenty stressful enough without the addition of a mysterious ballet dancer he can see through the windows of the dance studio across the street, but, somehow, he can't bring himself to mind.

My Pictures of You by 72reasons (E, 50,527 w., 19 Ch. || Fashion AU || Model Sherlock / Photographer John, Bisexual John, Gay Sherlock, Past Viclock, Past Warstan, Cocaine / Drug Use, Mary is Not Nice, Angst, Pining, Case Fic, Kidnapping, Human Trafficking, Past Jolto, Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, Frottage, Oral / Anal, Fingering, Dancing, Non-Con Drug Use, Rimming) – John Watson, a photographer, gets an assignment to shoot gorgeous, young fashion model, Sherlock Holmes. He feels an instant connection, but Sherlock uses drugs and has an old friend who's just landed himself in a lot of trouble. When Sherlock comes to John for help, he reluctantly agrees. Angst, past loves, and insecurities threaten to end their budding romance, but ultimately love and trust wins out.

Focal Point by PuffleLock (E, 60,913 w., 13 Ch. || Post-TRF Divergence / Different Reunion, POV John, Slow Burn, For a Case, Friends to Lovers, Suicidal Thoughts, Sad Wank, Sherlock in Makeup, Dancing, Mentions of Torture / Depression / PTSD, Love Confessions, Idiots in Love, Frottage, Blow Jobs, Scars, Rimming, Anal, Toplock, First Kiss / Time, Gay Sherlock / Bi John) – John comes home early from a medical conference to find that every once in awhile, Sherlock can surprise the hell out of him. Can John surprise him back?

A Moment's Surrender by anchors (M, 64,272 w., 10 Ch. || Dancer AU || Ballet Sherlock, Swing Dancer John, Angsty Fluff, Romance, Swing Dancing) – Sherlock tours worldwide with the English National Ballet. John dances the Lindy Hop competitively all across the globe. That they would meet, then, by the slimmest of chances in one lonely city, is pure coincidence. The whole 'dancing together' bit is a little more planned.

This Is Your Song by agirlsname (E, 79,990 w., 19 Ch. || Moulin Rouge Fusion || Prostitute Sherlock, Poet John, Acting, Singing, Dancing, Writing, Poetry, Musical, Song Fic, Heavy Angst, Unreliable Narrator, Sherlock is French, Love at First Sight, UST, First Kiss/Time, Frottage, Coming in Pants, Anal Sex, Switchlock, Clothed Sex, Crossdressing, Secret Relationship, Forbidden Love, Jealousy, Terminal Illnesses, Grief/Mourning, Breakup/Makeup Sex, Past Drug Use, Attempted Rape, Canon-Typical Violence)– When John Watson is invalided home from the army in 1895, he moves to Paris to rediscover his writing and find a new meaning in life. His old friend Stamford invites him into a group of artist friends, and suddenly John finds himself auditioning to write a show for the famous brothel across the street. There, he meets the most beautiful man he’s ever seen - Sherlock, the star of the Moulin Rouge. But Sherlock is already promised to the investor of the show, the rich Duke Moriarty.

A Case of Identity – The Musical by shamelessmash (E, 83,147 w., 15 Ch. || 1950′s Hollywood AU || Musical, Case Fic, Undercover as an Actor, Dancing, Happy Ending, Kidnapping, Drugs, Fluff and Angst, Humour, Writer/Director John, Slow Burn / Romance) – A mysterious death on set causes chaos in Stamford productions latest movie. With the premiere date left unchanged, they must find a new lead actor and reshoot an entire movie in two months. Sherlock Holmes goes undercover as a lead actor in a Musical: a juggling act to solve a murder while singing, dancing and charming his way through 1950s Hollywood. The last thing he expected was to fall in love with the screenwriter along the way. Or as I like to call it: the case where Sherlock finally gets to dance. Based off this prompt.

Rewind by All_I_need (E, 87,593 w. || Fake/Pretend Relationship, Pining, Angst, Sharing a Bed, Dancing Lessons, Oblivious John) – About a month before John's wedding, he and Sherlock embark on one last case together: a murder at a remote hotel in the middle of nowhere. A lot can happen in a week. And a lot doesn't. But what if ...?

Rosethorne by suitesamba (M, 98,888 w., 28 Ch. || Secret Garden AU || Injured Sherlock / John, Recovery, First Times, Minor Character Death, Disability, Past Domestic Abuse [Mary/OMC]) – John Watson, WWII army doctor, is injured in the line of duty and can no longer wield a scalpel. Sherlock Holmes, Britain’s best code-breaker, is side-lined by his own devastating injury. In a work inspired by Frances Hodgson Burnett’s “The Secret Garden,” the two men must find meaning and purpose in a world which seems to have taken away all they hold most dear. But of course, it really hasn’t.

October to Hogmanay by snorklepie (E, 127,318 w., 25 Ch. || Post HLV Fix-It, Awkward First Times, Hurt/Comfort, Sherlock is a Mess, Shameless Smut, Sherlock’s Past, Scotland, Poison, Holmes Family, Kilts, Dancing, Angst) – John stared at Sherlock’s profile against the cab window and exhaled slowly. After a long moment, he reached out and touched Sherlock’s long fingers where they were fiddling with the button on his coat. The tall man didn’t look around again, but his fingers slowly unfurled before curling deliberately around John’s hand. Part 2 of Scotland

Shatter Me by Loveismyrevolution (E, 162,856+ w., 20/24 Ch. || WiP || Sherlock Dances, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Angst with Happy Ending, Misunderstandings, Introspection, Mutual Pining, UST, Idiots in Love, Big Brother Mycroft, Implied Drug Use, Suicidal Thoughts, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions) – This is a story about two men trying to find their way back into the comfort of their companionship. No easy task in the aftermath of the events of Reichenbach, a wedding and a shot through the heart. They are facing a very rocky road ahead with a lot of introspection, misunderstandings, angst and pining. They each try to cope in their own particular way. Eventually, they'll find a way to communicate and learn about the true nature of their feelings.

#steph replies #johnlock fic recs #my fic recs #dancing fics #themiddlenameslove #long post

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spookyboywhump · 3 years

Text

Overheating

Alright so I really wanted to write smth with This so thank you @unicornscotty <3

I know it’s the fourth but I really wanted to participate in the @summer-of-whump event but I didn’t have the time until today so technically this is also for the day one prompt “overheating” (fun fact: originally I had a piece with Wren planned for this)

CW: pet whump, dehumanization, locked outside, emeto mention, drowning mention, heat exhaustion

***

He woke up when he was suddenly grabbed by the collar and dragged off his bed, roughly pushed to the floor. He was disoriented, squinting up at Cain from where he laid. His owner looked irritated, apparently still upset over the fight Zander lost the night before. He should’ve been expecting this, seeing as Cain hadn’t punished him immediately after getting home.

“Fucking hell… good morning to you too.” He muttered sarcastically, while Cain jabbed him in the side with the tip of his shoe, Zander wincing as he dug into one of the bruises.

“Get up.” He ordered, and Zander sighed, pushing himself up and getting to his feet. He was too exhausted, too sore to fight with him. He figured he may as well just accept his punishment and get it over with. “Hands behind your back.”

“Sure thing, officer.” He snickered, doing as he was told though, only for Cain to quickly cuff his wrists together. Zander followed him from the room, mentally preparing himself for a beating, a whipping, caning, drowning, anything like that, but instead, Cain led him out back.

Now that he was outside he realized it was early in the morning, around the time Cain usually left for work. He sighed heavily, realizing that it was going to be another day locked outside, but instead of dragging him out into the yard, he was made to kneel on part of the patio- specifically, the part that wasn’t covered. Cain had clearly already prepared this punishment, a chain locked around one of the nearest posts, which was grabbed and clipped to his collar. It was just long enough that he could lean forward, but he couldn’t have moved from that spot, even trying to move into the shade was impossible for him.

“You’ll spend today out here. If I’m in a better mood, I might let you in when I get home.” He said, and Zander jerked away when he tried to ruffle his hair. Cain started to head inside after that, pausing to add, “Oh, and by the way mutt- I’m working late today.” He said, Zander glaring when he flashed a smile at him before heading inside, the doors slamming shut and locking behind him.

Zander tried to tell himself this wasn��t that bad. He’d been left outside before, sometimes for days at a time, he could handle it. He wasn’t happy, but he could handle it, in fact, he considered it better than a beating. He was bored, of course, but by now he was used to boredom. He didn’t think it would be a problem at all, but as time passed and the day went on, he quickly realized that wasn’t the case.

It was the middle of summer, and while it wasn’t so bad early in the morning, the temperature continued to climb higher and higher. He was used to being tied in the yard, on the cool grass, with a chain long enough he could move into the shade of the trees. He was trapped here though, the sun beating down on him as he knelt on hot concrete. He regretted falling asleep wearing shorts, even if it would’ve been hotter at least pants would’ve provided some protection from the burning heat that had him constantly shifting uncomfortably.

He didn’t normally hate the heat very much. He was used to it, he used to enjoy being out on a sweltering day, but back then he’d usually end up at a friend’s pool or down at the lake, anything to cool off. He would’ve killed for even a drop of cold water, done anything to be submerged in it. His hair and his clothes stuck to his skin, sweat beading on his forehead, the back of his neck, he couldn’t even really wipe it away thanks to his hands being restrained. He winced as sweat stung open scratches from the night before, squeezing his eyes shut and taking a slow, deep breath.

He could handle discomfort. He was always uncomfortable. Hours went by and discomfort had given way to sickness though, somehow nauseous despite the fact he hadn’t even gotten to eat that day. He was doubled over as much as he could, trying to ignore the stomach pain and the sick feeling, but it was difficult when there was nothing else he could focus on.

“Fucking Cain.” He muttered to himself, attempting to talk himself through this. “Fuck him, fucking idiot. Can’t fucking believe this…” He winced, his stomach in knots at this point. “It’s fine… it’s just the sun… fuck, if I get a sunburn I’m gonna be pissed… I hope his stupid ass gets a sunburn, pale fucking vampire looking-“ He was forcibly cut off, dry heaving as the nausea got worse and worse.

By late in the afternoon he felt weak, even more exhausted than he had been that morning. His legs hurt, there was no position that was comfortable as the concrete burned his feet and legs. He hated to admit how much he cried, when he finally couldn’t take it any longer, but he couldn’t even cry for long, as though he were too dehydrated to manage even that. He kept his eyes shut as much as he could, his head was pounding and the bright sunlight wasn’t helping at all.

By the time the back doors opened again, Zander was blinking in and out of consciousness. It was sometime in the evening by then, but it was still warm out, too warm for Zander after enduring the whole day like that. He didn’t actually recognize that Cain was back until he was standing directly in front of him- something held in his hands too.

“Hey, you look like shit.” He snickered, and Zander couldn’t do much more than attempt to glare at him. He didn’t even want to know how he looked right now, likely drenched in sweat, red in his already bruised face. He was taking slow, deep breaths, he’d been fighting against the urge to vomit all day. He set down something in front of him, a bright red dog bowl, which was filled with water. “Go ahead boy, I’m sure you’re thirsty.” He told him, and it took Zander a moment to realize what he was saying.

Am I really this fucking desperate?

His mouth was so dry it was difficult for him to swallow. His throat hurt, he was hardly even capable of keeping himself awake right now, so exhausted and dizzy he couldn’t even really think straight. He hadn’t had anything to drink that day, and no matter the circumstances, this was water being offered right in front of him.

Fucking whatever, dignity be damned.

He abruptly lurched forward, desperate for it after all this time, only to gag as the chain stopped him, only inches from the water but just out of reach. He whined pathetically, he pulled against the chain despite the fact he couldn’t breath and it was showing no signs in breaking, but there was nothing he could do except sit there, and listen to Cain laugh- something that very, very quickly set him off.

“Fucking Bastard- really?!” He shouted. “Fuck you! Fucking let me go!” He growled, using all his energy just to yell at cain. “Stop fucking laughing, it’s not fucking funny!”

“No, it’s hilarious!” Cain laughed. “You’re such a desperate son of a bitch, huh? Would you really drink from a bowl like the dog you fucking are?”

“I would if you weren’t such an asshole! I don’t give a shit, just give me something!” He cried, just short of begging him. Cain was still laughing, but he nudged the bowl closer to him and Zander really did disregard any desire he’d had to avoid this, doing his best to drink from the bowl without his hands. The humiliation was absolutely nothing compared to the relief he felt, he’d never tasted anything better than that water tasted now. He drank as much as he could, as fast as he could to avoid having it taken away, but eventually Cain did take the bowl from him, then he unclipped the chain from his collar.

He tried to get up but he only just now realized how weak he was, collapsing almost immediately. Cain had to actually help him back into the house, his legs were trembling violently and he swore the room was moving side to side. Cain made a face since he was close enough to smell him after a day of sweating under the summer sun, if anything Zander counted that as some sort of victory on his end. He didn’t seem to realize anything was actually wrong with him though, he was dragged to his room and shoved to the floor, where he laid as he was locked into that cell again.

It took a long time for him to move. He couldn’t walk, he had to drag himself into the bathroom and turn on the shower to cold water, his hands shaking as he peeled his clothes off, sitting on the shower floor and breathing a sigh of relief as the cold water poured over him. He took deep, shuddering breaths, and he winced as the water hit the fresh burns on his legs, worse than he thought they would be. He wasn’t even sure if he had anything in his supplies meant for burns, but he figured he could work with what he had, he’d always done so before.

He didn’t expect to pass out in the shower. One moment he was tiredly looking at the back of his hand, at his bruised knuckles, and the next he was waking up slumped against the wall, cold and shivering now that he’d been in there long enough. He didn’t know how long that had actually been, but he finally was able to turn the water off and struggle to his feet, able to keep himself upright long enough to dry off and get dressed. He wanted to go pass out in his bed but just the thought of the mattress and the blanket made him feel hot, he wasn’t entirely thinking straight when he laid down on the bathroom floor, but he found he didn’t regret it one bit, finding relief in the cool tiles against his skin.

He wasn’t thinking entirely clearly, his thoughts still clouded with confusion, but he knew one thing for certain- With how angry he had been over his little “joke”, Cain was lucky Zander had been restrained.

#whump #my writing #my oc’s #zander #Cain #pet whump #dehumanization #heat exhaustion #summerofwhump #summerofwhump1

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spencers-renaissance · 3 years

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💫Moreid Masterlist

GIF by @criminalmindsvibez

Hurt/Comfort or Angst with a Happy Ending

🌊Still Left With the River

Derek wakes up to find his boyfriend crying on the sofa. Cue the hurt, the comfort, and the fluff.

1.6k, hurt/comfort, fluff, caretaker!derek, autistic spencer, crying, sad spencer

🌳Trees and Seas Have Flown Away, I Call it Loving You

Derek says something hurtful, but it happens to lead to just about the best thing that’s ever happened to Spencer.

3.2k, hurt/comfort, fluff, angst, fighting/making up, angst with a happy ending, autistic spencer, coming out, getting together

🍓A Chronicle of Loss

5 people Spencer Reid lost and 1 person he gained. A look at the traumas Spencer faces over the series, and giving him the happy ending he deserves.

3.6k, grief, loss, abandonment issues, insecurity, depression, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending, getting together, ‘didn’t know they were dating’, protective derek, autistic spencer

🍯Honeysuckle

The BAU decide to head out for a picnic one summer afternoon, but they’re soon rudely interrupted by a bee sting and anaphylactic shock. Seeing Spencer carted off in an ambulance is not exactly how they expected the day to go.

2.3k, whump, angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, hurt spencer, friendship, medical conditions, severe allergic reactions

🌙The Noiseless Crash of Crumbling Walls

After Derek and Spencer are paired up on a science project in their senior year of high school, they become the closest, most unlikely friends possible. But what happens when Derek finally finds out what Spencer's dealing with at home? Inspired by the prompt “where did you get those bruises?”

4.5k, high school au, hurt/comfort, fluff, angst, hurt spencer, protective derek, abuse, friendship, pre-slash, spencer just turned 16, derek is almost 18

🔥The Insistent Burn of a Falling Heart - part two

Derek is hopelessly in love with his childhood best friend, and he can't even escape him at home, since they're living together while they study at Cal Tech. He's resigned himself to a miserable, Spencer-less fate until lasagne, bad memories, and a whole lot of crying bring the real truth out into the open.

4.2k, hurt!spencer, fluff, angst with a happy ending, mutual pining, getting together, college au, first kiss, misunderstandings

💔let him be soft (and let him be mine) part one // part two

After Derek pulls another self-sacrificing stunt at the culmination of their most recent case, Spencer runs out of their apartment as he desperately grapples with how it makes him feel. (Collab with @criminalmindsvibez! You can find her complimentary edit here.)

2.4k, hurt/comfort, crying, abandonment issues, injured!derek, hurt!spencer, miscommunication, angst with a happy ending, fluff, protective!derek

🪦how the cold numbs everything but grief

Six days after Emily dies, Spencer finds himself soaked in freezing water, catatonic on the bathroom floor. Only Derek can ease the roaring, burning, demanding agony of this grief.

1.2k, grief/mourning, emily’s ‘death’ in season six, hurt!spencer, hurt!derek, hurt/comfort, angst with a hopeful ending (serious tw for grief here)

✨storm-darkened or starry bright

Spencer contracts HIV. It all falls apart after that.

6.5k, angst, illness, hurt!spencer, hurt/comfort, worried derek, depression, mutual pining, getting together, angst w a happy ending

⛈this heavy humanness

Spencer leaves the oven on overnight, and Derek - whose pent-up emotions get the best of him - loses it, exposing secrets neither of them expected to be spilled, for two very different reasons. They get there in the end.

3.9k, est. rel., past abuse, arguing & making up, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending, miscommunication hurt spencer

💤I turn and reach for you

Three months after Hankel, Spencer starts getting terrible nightmares that keep him up at night. He tries desperately to keep his secret until one day when it's all too much to bear anymore. Luckily, Derek Morgan is there to hold him together as he falls apart.

2.1k, nightmares, hurt/comfort, ptsd, angst with a happy ending, fluff, literal sleeping together, getting together, post-revelations

Pure Fluff

🌒when I fall asleep (it is your eyes that I close)

Spencer’s not been sleeping, and as much as Derek adores his sleepy clinginess and physical affection, as soon as they get home he’s determined to get to the bottom of it.

1.9k, fluff, hurt/comfort, sleep-deprivation, clingy!spencer, physical affection, anxiety, cuddling

🎄A Christmas Like This

Spencer has a very specific plan for their first Christmas in their new house, and it has to be absolutely perfect. Derek’s going to do everything in his power to make his boyfriend as happy as possible, even if that means a house covered in garlands and a tree covered in animal skeletons…

2.9k, fluff, christmas fic, est relationship, neurodivergence, romance, domesticity, day in the life

💍my heart talks about nothing but you

Derek finds Spencer staring longingly at dancing newlyweds while on a case and once he gets to the bottom of why he’s tasked with making a proposal to a man who knows it’s coming special somehow. (He pulls it off.)

2.5k, established relationship, hurt/comfort, minor angst, fluff, relationship discussions, proposal, protective derek

✨I told the stars about you - part two

Derek and Spencer have their first date. They dance to Frank Sinatra and cuddle in an ice cream parlour, before kissing the hell out of each other at Spencer's front door. That's pretty much it. (Prequel to above fic.)

2.1k, first date, first kiss, pure tooth-rotting fluff, dancing, flirting, protective derek

🎂I can’t hold enough of you in my hands - part three

Derek and Spencer are finally getting married and the rest of the BAU are there to help them through every step of the day. Including a little surprise that Derek has up his sleeve for their first dance. (Third part to the above two fics.)

3.1k, tooth-rotting fluff, marriage/wedding day, team as family, team dynamics, domesticity, paternal hotch, maternal alex, just a whole lotta love man

🔪Shovel Talk

Hotch and Emily find out about Derek's relationship with Spencer and decide it's time for a chat.

1.5k, fluff, humour, est. rel., protective!derek, emily, and hotch, relationship reveal, mentions of past hurt spencer

📚I’ll (Never) Know What It’s Like Not to Love You

Spencer finds his old journals in the attic, and he and Derek reminisce on the days they used to pine for one another. Luckily, those days are over, and they have forever ahead of them.

1.3k, tooth-rotting domestic fluff, past mutual pining, past hurt!spencer, cuddling & snuggling, late canon

Getting Together

🌨Even More Beautiful

The BAU is stuck in Michigan with no case and no way home, so naturally, Spencer and Derek confess their love for one another. (Based on the prompt ‘You look even more beautiful covered in snow.’)

3.5k, fluff, love confessions, shy spencer, insecurity, hurt/comfort

🎧Hear it in the Silence

A short, fluffy chronicle of Spencer realising in increments how in love with Derek he is, and navigating a real, beautifully sweet relationship that's not always smooth sailing, especially since he's been hurt before. (Based on Taylor Swift’s You are in Love.)

3.7k, angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, dev relationship, tw past abuse, domesticity

🎅🏼Secret Santa

Penelope rigs the BAU’s Secret Santa game to finally get Derek and Spencer together with extraordinary success, and they have her to thank for their future first date. Oh, and a sprig of mistletoe nearly throws the whole thing out the window.

2.8k, fluff, getting together, insecurity/anxiety, christmas fic, first kiss, misunderstandings, friendship

🌳The One Constant

Derek wakes up after having his appendix removed with temporary amnesia from the anesthesia, and Spencer certainly isn't prepared for the man he's pined after for four years to a) not recognise him, and b) start flirting with him. It all works out in the end, with a little help from Hotch.

4k, hurt/comfort, fluff, mutual pining, insecure spencer, flirting, getting together, misunderstandings, first kiss

☕️i’ll retire my bones to make you tea and read you poetry

Derek doesn't exactly expect to invite a sleepy Spencer over for a movie night after a case, but his blinding smile in response makes him happy he did. The kiss they share the next morning makes him even happier.

3.6k, fluff, getting together, cuddling, insecure!spencer, pet names, mutual pining, light hurt/comfort, first kiss, love confessions

Embarrassed!Spencer Drabble

A misunderstanding at a BAU get together has Spencer embarrassed and a long-awaited kiss finally happening.

1.2k, fluff, angst, getting together, first kiss

📚100

Spencer's an academic researcher who spends every morning at his local library. Derek just happens to drop by one Tuesday and ask the pretty boy in the classics section if he can help him find a book. Sparks fly.

2.1k, library au, fluff, meet-cute, pining, shy spencer, coming out

💣Mayhem

Imagine that scene in S4E1 when Derek is driving the ambulance loaded with a bomb about to explode, except it’s Spencer on the other end of the phone and they finally get their shit together.

4.2k, canon divergence, spencer is the tech analyst, getting together, mutual pining, insecure spencer, angst with a happy ending, fluff, declarations of love

🧑🏻‍🦽 dry me off and hold me close

Derek has finally relented and is bringing his boyfriend Spencer to meet the rest of the team. That means, though, he has to finally tell them about his boyfriend's disability. Terrified that they'll react badly, he puts it off until he can't anymore. Turns out he was worried for nothing

5.7k, so much fluff, protective derek, disabled spencer, caretaker derek, spencer is not in the bau, team as family, hurt/comfort, light angst, est. rel, chronic illness, slice of life: disabled edition

💐I’ll bloom for you (while my heart still cries)

(Based on the age-old tumblr prompt) "Sometimes I steal flowers from your garden on my way to the cemetery and today you've caught me and insisted on coming with me to make sure the 'girl is pretty enough to warrant flower theft' and I'm trying to figure out how to break it to you that we're on our way to a graveyard."

3.7k, fluff, meet-cute, au: student spencer, fbi agent derek, hacker penelope, grief & mourning, shy spencer, getting together, mutual pining

🌖This Gravitational Pull

Penelope Garcia sets her two best friends Derek & Spencer up on a blind first date. Even with the best intentions and highest expectations, no-one could've predicted it would go quite this well.

2.9k, fluff, first date, au: diff first meeting, shy spencer, insecurity, anxiety, flirting, cuddling, protective derek, silly amounts of affection

#criminal minds #criminal minds masterlist #criminal minds fic #moreid #moreid fic #derek morgan #spencer reid #derek morgan/spencer reid #derek morgan x spencer reid

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whumptober · 4 years

Text

Whumptober 2020 - Updated

Welcome to Whumptober 2020! We’re doing things a little differently this year so please make sure to read the Event Info carefully. We are also excited to announce the addition of an AO3 Collection, which can be found here.

We hope you’re as excited as us to watch the Whump Community come together once again for a month of bone-crunching creativity and collaboration!

(All 31 Themes + Prompts, Event Information, and FAQs are posted below the cut!)

No 1. LET'S HANG OUT SOMETIME Waking Up Restrained | Shackled | Hanging

No 2. IN THE HANDS OF THE ENEMY "Pick Who Dies" | Collars | Kidnapped

No 3. MY WAY OR THE HIGHWAY Manhandled | Forced to their Knees | Held at Gunpoint

No 4. RUNNING OUT OF TIME Caged | Buried Alive | Collapsed Building

No 5. WHERE DO YOU THINK YOU'RE GOING? On the Run | Failed Escape | Rescue

No 6. PLEASE.... "Get it Out" | No More | "Stop, please"

No 7. I'VE GOT YOU Support | Carrying | Enemy to Caretaker

No 8. WHERE DID EVERYBODY GO? "Don't Say Goodbye" | Abandoned | Isolation

No 9. FOR THE GREATER GOOD "Take Me Instead" | "Run!” | Ritual Sacrifice

No 10. THEY LOOK SO PRETTY WHEN THEY BLEED Blood Loss | Internal Bleeding | Trail of Blood

No 11. PSYCH 101 Defiance | Struggling | Crying

No 12. I THINK I'VE BROKEN SOMETHING Broken Down | Broken Bones | Broken Trust

No 13. BREATHE IN BREATHE OUT Delayed Drowning | Chemical Pneumonia | Oxygen Mask

No 14. IS SOMETHING BURNING? Branding | Heat Exhaustion | Fire

No 15. INTO THE UNKNOWN Possession | Magical Healing | Science Gone Wrong

No 16. A TERRIBLE, HORRIBLE, NO GOOD, VERY BAD DAY Forced to Beg | Hallucinations | Shoot the Hostage

No 17. I DID NOT SEE THAT COMING Blackmail | Dirty Secret | Wrongfully Accused

No 18. PANIC! AT THE DISCO Panic Attacks | Phobias | Paranoia

No 19. BROKEN HEARTS Grief | Mourning Loved One | Survivor's Guilt

No 20. TOTO, I HAVE A FEELING WE'RE NOT IN KANSAS ANYMORE Lost | Field Medicine | Medieval

No 21. I DON'T FEEL SO WELL Chronic Pain | Hypothermia | Infection

No 22. DO THESE TACOS TASTE FUNNY TO YOU? Poisoned | Drugged | Withdrawal

No 23. WHAT’S A WHUMPEE GOTTA DO TO GET SOME SLEEP AROUND HERE? Exhaustion | Narcolepsy | Sleep Deprivation

No 24. YOU’RE NOT MAKING ANY SENSE Forced Mutism | Blindfolded | Sensory Deprivation

No 25. I THINK I’LL JUST COLLAPSE RIGHT HERE, THANKS Disorientation | Blurred Vision | Ringing Ears

No 26. IF YOU THOUGHT THE HEAD TRAUMA WAS BAD... Migraine | Concussion | Blindness

No 27. OK, WHO HAD NATURAL DISASTERS ON THEIR 2020 BINGO CARD? Earthquake | Extreme Weather | Power Outage

No 28. SUCH WOW. MANY NORMAL. VERY OOPS. Accidents | Hunting Season | Mugged

No 29. I THINK I NEED A DOCTOR Intubation | Emergency Room | Reluctant Bedrest

No 30. NOW WHERE DID THAT COME FROM? Wound Reveal | Ignoring an Injury | Internal Organ Injury

No 31. TODAY’S SPECIAL: TORTURE Experiment | Whipped | Left for Dead

Alternate Prompt List

Alt 1. Punctured

Alt 2. Falling

Alt 3. Comfort

Alt 4. Stitches

Alt 5. Stoic Whumpees

Alt 6. Altered States

Alt 7. Found Family

Alt 8. Adverse Reactions

Alt 9. Memory Loss

Alt 10. Nightmares

Alt 11. Presumed Dead

Alt. 12. Water

Alt. 13 Accidents

Alt. 14 Shot

Alt. 15 Carry/Support

Event Info

WHUMPTOBER is a month-long, prompt-based creation challenge (think: Inktober, but whumpier). There are 31 Official themes this year - one for each day of the month - which can be used, skipped, or combined in any way you’d like. They are meant to serve as inspiration without being taken literally (e.g. you don't have to include the exact wording into your work). Additionally, there are 3 prompts for each theme. These are optional suggestions and can be used in conjunction with the theme, or as options/alternatives. We want to give everyone as much creative freedom as possible, as well as increase event accessibility for folks with triggers and squicks.

Creators can PRODUCE work in any media they choose, including but not limited to: writing, visual artwork, and photo/video/audio edits. Creators can PARTICIPATE as much or as little as they want (i.e. you don’t have to do ALL the prompts if you don’t want to) and prompts can be used in any order. They are also free to use even after the event ends.

When uploading Whumptober content to your blog, be sure to tag the with:

#whumptober2020 …..(the event tag)

#no.1, #no.2, #no.3, …..(theme number)

#bruised, #stabbed, …..(the theme or specific prompt you chose)

#fandom or #OC

#medium …..(gifs, fic, podcast, art, etc.)

#teeth, #etc …..(trigger warnings & any additional tags. Keep in mind not to add “tw” in front but only use the word/trigger itself, because tumblr sucks)

#nsfw, #nsfwhump …..(only for nsfw content)

PLEASE BE DILIGENT WITH YOUR TAGGING. Only properly tagged posts are considered for archiving on the official @whumptober2020 blog. They must be tagged in the order above.

Unfortunately, due to the sheer number of participants in recent years, we cannot guarantee your work will be archived. A random selection of properly tagged posts from all genres will be reblogged each day.

Whumpers who produce content for 31 total theme days are considered event completionists and will be tagged in a masterpost at the end of the month.

Questions not addressed below can be directed to this blog as well.

Thanks for reading, and happy whumping!

Frequently Asked Questions

Q. What kind of content can I make? Can it be NSFW?

This is a MIXED MEDIA event! You can write fic, post meta, doodle or paint, create a gif set or photo edit, link a song, or get crafty with video - anything goes. As for NSFW, make what you like, we just hope that you’ll tag your work accordingly so that others participating in the event can stay safe :)

Q. Do I have to do all 31 Days? Can I post early/late?

Participate as much or little as you like, and post whenever! Just be sure to tag your posts properly (ex. #no.11, #psych101). Combining prompts into one piece of work is okay, and posting late is as well so as long as it’s in October.

Q. What if I don’t understand a theme?

Send us an ask! We’re happy to help clarify. That said, the themes are entirely up for interpretation :)

Q. Can I combine Whumptober with other creation challenges?

Absolutely! That’s like shooting two whumpees with one bullet :)

Q. Can I upload/repost my whumptober content to other social media platforms?

Of course! We’ve created an AO3 Collection to archive any fics posted there. The archive can be accessed here. The blog is the official archive, so please respect the boundaries of any closeted whumpers in your social circle :)

Q. Can I use prompts to write a new chapter for an existing fic?

Yes

Q. An existing fic I am currently writing contains many of the Whumptober prompts, can I use it?

If you are actively writing this fic at the moment with the whumptober prompts in mind, yes. If it just conveniently checks the boxes, then please don’t. You can, however, add new chapters answering one or more of the prompts.

Q. What kind of characters can I write for?

Fandom characters, OC characters, human, furry, alien, cyborg, whoever you like.

Q. Can I use a prompt multiple times?

Yes, but it only counts once

Q. If I’m not comfortable with one day's prompts can I use a prompt of a different day as a substitute and still be a completionist?

Yes, but please do not use a specific prompt twice. We have also created an alternate prompts list that you can draw from [here].

Q. Where can I post my work?

Post where and how you want. You don’t even have to (cross)post it to Tumblr. Just keep in mind if it’s not on Tumblr we will not be able to add it to the blog archive.

Q. Can I start posting early?

You can, but this is an October event and wouldn’t it be more fun with everyone doing it at the same time? That being said, you can post early, but we won’t be reblogging any work predating October 1st.

Q. Do I have to finish a fic I started/can I post WIP’s.?

Yes you can post WIPs. And you’re not obligated to finish it in October for it to count towards being a completionist.

Q. Is co-writing allowed?

Yes, absolutely, and it would count towards being a completionist for both/all of you :)

Q. Do I have to create 31 standalone pieces to be considered a completionist or can I write one continuous story?

One continuous story is fine. The challenge is to write something for 31 prompts. If that’s spread over 31 fics or just one, you are still considered a completionist. (The same goes for every other media you choose.)

Q. Is there a min/max limit on word count?

There is no limit

Q. Can I combine prompts? Is there a limit on how many?

No limit and combine as many as you’d like.

Q. Is a hc/angst focus ok?

Of course!

Q. What’s considered nsfw?

See this post

Q. What's whump?

See this post

Q. My interpretation of the prompt isn't whumpy at all, does that count?

No, sorry, but keep in mind that whump [see definition] is something very nuanced and different for everyone and emotional whump/angst is just as much part of it, as is physical whump and torture. So before you dismiss your idea, think about this.

Q. Can I start working on the prompts before October?

Absolutely! That’s why we posted the prompts a month in advance. We recognise how difficult it can be creating for 31 days in “real time”.

Q. How do I tag triggers?

tw at the end of the word, ex. emeto tw

Q. Do I have to use your tags?

Yes, if you want your work archived on the blog. If not, feel free to use whatever tags you want.

Q. Does combining prompts count towards completion?

Yes

Q. Can we @ you?

Yes but we mostly rely on the whumptober2020 tag

Q. Is there anything we are absolutely not allowed to write?

There are no rules, just be sure to properly tag your trigger warnings. And keep in mind Tumblr’s policies if you are posting it here (or the policies of whatever site you use).

Q. Where can I go for brainstorming help?

Here on Discord

Q. My characters are minors, is that ok?

Yes, but as with everything else, tags are your best friend.

Q. Can I cross post on other blogs?

Yes, multiple platforms and blogs are perfectly acceptable. You can also post different works to different accounts under different names, without posting them everywhere at once.

Note: This is a creation challenge, please don’t repost your old work under our tags (unless it’s been changed or edited for the event).

#eventinfo2020 #whumptober2020 #whumptober #promptlist2020 #prompt list #FAQs #event info

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