#do I get a participation badge?

[ailesswhumptober]

Prompts for AI-less Whumptober 2024

As promised, we're bringing you the official prompt list of AI-less Whumptober 2024 today!

We have 31 days of excellent whump prompts, with three prompts per day to pick from, fun themes, and 10 alt prompts to play around with. We hope you enjoy! Additional info + plain text versions of the prompts can be found under the cut.

FAQ and Rules

What sort of content can I create for this event?

You can create whatever you want (fic, art, edits, etc). Any fandom is allowed, as well as OC stuff. NSFW is allowed, but please tag your content accordingly! The only thing not allowed is AI-generated content.

Do I need to make 31 things to participate?

Oh heavens no! You can make as much or as little content as you like, skip days when desired, or combine prompts (so for example, write something that covers a prompt from day 1, 2, AND 3). You don't have to do the days in order either, go wild! To be considered a 'completionist', you only have to make sure that at the end of the month, you've covered 31 prompts from 31 different days, but whether you do that in 31 works or just 1 is up to you.

What are these alts about?

If none of the three prompts of a particular day are your cup of tea, you can swap them out for an alt prompt of your choice.

What are these themes about?

Just a little bit of extra fun for the mods. Like last year, we'll be handing out various badges for people participating in the event. A full list can be found here, perhaps there is a special badge or two for people who can't be completionists but who do manage to finish every single day of a specific theme ;)

How do I tag and is there an AO3 collection?

It suffices to tag your work with #ailesswhumptober for us to see and reblog it! Please also tag nsfw, since we'll be using that tag too. Tagging the day is optional but does help the mods along.

There is an AO3 collection to add your fics to here.

That should be all. If you have any additional questions, check our pinned or hit us up in the ask box. Or join our discord maybe, whumping can be a great group activity!

---

Plain text versions of the prompts:

October 1 - Torture Tuesday

public torture/public use, stress position, “If you cry, we’ll go easy on you.”

October 2 - Whumperless Wednesday

Unfortunate fall, car accident, “Don’t move. You’ll be okay.”

October 3 - Trauma Thursday

Shared trauma, survivor’s guilt, “It’s not your fault.”

October 4 - Fright/Freaky Friday

Painful transformation, non-consensual body modifications, “You’re a monster.”

October 5 - Sensory Saturday

Overstimulation, migraines, “I can’t take this anymore.”

October 6 - Surprise Sunday

Multiple whumpees, self sacrifice, “I’m the only one who can do this.”

October 7 - Medical Monday

Field medicine, running out of supplies, “Hold on, we’re going to have to improvise.”

October 8 - Torture Tuesday

Rope burns, gagged, “You’re so much prettier this way.”

October 9 - Whumperless Wednesday

Hypothermia, heatstroke, “You look pretty pale.”

October 10 - Trauma Thursday

Self worth issues, pushing away a loved one, “You don't need to earn this.”

October 11 - Fright/Freaky Friday

Hallucinations, truth serum, “Why would you even say that?”

October 12 - Sensory Saturday

Isolation, sensory deprivation, “Can you feel me? I’m right here, whumpee.”

October 13 - Surprise Sunday

Whumpee using themself as bait, defiance, “Take me instead.”

October 14 - Medical Monday

Seizures, concussion, “See if you can follow my finger with your eyes.”

October 15 - Torture Tuesday

Waterboarding, removing body parts, “Don’t break down on me yet.”

October 16 - Whumperless Wednesday

Drowning, hostile environment, “I don’t know how anybody could survive that.”

October 17 - Trauma Thursday

Abandonment, misunderstanding, “Why did I even think you cared?”

October 18 - Fright/Freaky Friday

Mind control, possession, “Everybody will end up despising you.”

October 19 - Sensory Saturday

Disassociation, losing a sense, “I wish I could get you back.”

October 20 - Surprise Sunday

Enemy/Stranger to caretaker, accidental de-aging, “I’m absolutely not qualified for this shit.”

October 21 - Medical Monday

Drugged, ambulance ride, “This will make you feel better, okay?”

October 22 - Torture Tuesday

Forced (to kneel/watch/hurt somebody else), whipped, “Do not look away.” October 23 - Whumperless Wednesday

Fever, passing out, “Hey?! Stay with me, okay?!”

October 24 - Trauma Thursday

Deconditioning, relapse, “It’s normal that you need more time.”

October 25 - Fright/Freaky Friday

Humiliation, betrayal, “How could you?!”

October 26 - Sensory Saturday

Electrocution, burning, “This is going to sting.”

October 27 - Surprise Sunday

Before vs after, Alternate universe, “Well, there’s a first for everything.”

October 28 - Medical Monday

Internal bleeding, needles and stitches, “I didn’t think the wound was that bad…”

October 29 - Torture Tuesday

Ownership, branding, “Everybody will know that you’re mine.”

October 30 - Whumperless Wednesday

Poison, delirium, “You’re not making sense.”

October 31 - Trauma Thursday

Panic attack, facing a phobia, “You need to get out of here!”

Alt prompts:

1) Pistol whipped

2) Co-dependency

3) Animal bite

4) Zombies

5) White room torture

6) Shock collar

7) Pulling teeth

8) Kidnapping

9) “You always make everything worse!”

10) “If you weren’t around, I’d be long dead by now...”

[whumptober]

Whumptober 2023

Welcome to Whumptober 2023 — the sixth year running!

COMPLETIONISTS/PARTICIPANT BADGES CAN BE FOUND HERE

To those of you who participated last year, welcome back! To everyone joining this year, welcome!

Please make sure to read the Event Info carefully, as most of your questions will be answered there already. For everything else, you are welcome to come to our ask box or ask questions in our Discord server here.

This year’s AO3 Collection can be found here.

And this years playlist can be found here.

There are 139 prompt options in total this year - this is including the alternatives list! A special thanks goes out to those who took part in our trope vote back in July. From the 1526 responses to our list of 223 tropes, we looked through the popularity results, as well as your honourable mentions, and were able to produce this years prompts list. Stay tuned, as we will be posting some of the results at a later date!

We’re very excited to see the community come together once more and be a wild, chaotic bunch of creators and consumers of whump. Go wild with the prompts, and support your fellow creators - we wish you all the fun!

Best of luck and happy whumping,

Mods Vanne, Yenn, Kitty and Surro

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

Whumptober 2023 Prompt List

No. 1: “But now this room is spinning while I’m trying just to fill in all the gaps.”

Safety Net | Swooning | “How many fingers am I holding up?”

No. 2: “I’ll call out your name, but you won’t call back.”

Thermometer | Delirium | “They don't care about you.”

No. 3: “Like crying out in empty rooms; with no-one there except the moon.”

Journal | Solitary Confinement | “Make it stop.”

No. 4: “I see the danger, It’s written there in your eyes.”

Cattle Prod | Shock | “You in there?”

No. 5: “You better pray I don't get up this time around.”

Debris | Pinned Down | “It's broken.”

No. 6: “Do or die, you’ll never make me; Because the world will never take my heart.”

Recording | Made to Watch | “It should have been me.”

No. 7: " “I paced around for hours on empty; I jumped at the slightest of sounds.”

Alleyway | Radio Silence | “Can you hear me?”

No. 8: “I’ve got soul, but I’m not a soldier.”

Overcrowded ER | Outnumbered | “It’s all for nothing.”

No. 9: “Learning everything ain't what it seems, that's the thing about these days.”

Polaroid | Mistaken Identity | “You're a liar.”

No. 10: “Can’t you see that you’re lost without me?”

Broken Phone | Stranded | “You said you'd never leave.”

No. 11: “All the lights going dark and my hope’s destroyed.”

Animal trap | Captivity | “No one will find you.”

No. 12: “I haven't slept in days but who's counting?”

Red | Insomnia | “I’m up, I’m up.”

No. 13: “It comes and goes like the strength in your bones.”

Cold Compress | Infection | “I don’t feel so good.”

No. 14: “Feed me poison, fill me ‘till I drown.”

Flare | Water Inhalation | “Just hold on.”

No. 15: “I don't need you to help me I can handle things myself.”

Makeshift Bandages | Suppressed Suffering | “I’m fine.”

No. 16: “Would you lie with me and just forget the world?”

Gurney | Flatline | “Don’t go where I can’t follow.”

No. 17: “You’re the lump in my throat and the knot in my chest.”

Collar | Touch Aversion | “Leave me alone.”

No. 18: “I tend to deflect when I’m feeling threatened.”

Blindfold | Tortured For Information | “Hit them harder.”

No. 19: “I’ll take one final step, all you have to do is make me.”

Floral Bouquet | Psychological | “I’m not as stupid as you think I am.”

No. 20: “People don’t change people, time does.”

Blanket | Found Family | “You will regret touching them.”

No. 21: “See the chains around my feet.”

Vows | Restraints | “Don't move.”

No. 22: “They never saw us coming, ‘til they hit the floor.”

Glass Shard | Vehicular Accident | “Watch out!”

No. 23: “It’s gonna get me by the end of the night.”

Shadows | Stalking | “Who’s there?”

No. 24: “I’ve got a head full of chemicals; mouth full of ridicule.”

Goodbye Note | Neglect | “I thought they were with you.”

No. 25: “You’re not delivering a perfect body to the grave.”

Storm | Buried Alive | “They’re not breathing!”

No. 26: “Sometimes I get so tired; I don’t even know myself.”

Seeing Double | Working To Exhaustion | “You look awful.”

No. 27: “You drew stars around my scars; But now I’m bleeding.”

Matches | Scars | “Let me see”

No. 28: “We might not make it to the morning; so go on and tell me now.”

Bloody Knife | Sacrifice | “You'll have to go through me.”

No. 29: “I only sink deeper the deeper I think.”

Scented Candle | Troubled Past Resurfacing | “What happened to me?”

No. 30: “It’s okay, just to say, ‘I’m not okay’.”

Borrowed Clothing | Bridal Carry | “Not much longer...”

No. 31: “I thought that I was getting better.”

Emptiness | Setbacks | “Take it easy.”

Alternatives List:

Betrayal

Aftermath of Failure

Brass Knuckles

Decoy

Body Modification

Playing Cards

Examination

Hunting

Drugging

Shaking

Panic

Broken

Miscommunication

Lab Rat

Reluctant Whumper

Event Info & Rules

~ Please read our extensive event info posts before sending us an ask ~

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. The 'theme' of each day is the line of lyrics.

The prompts are merely to serve as inspiration without being taken literally (e.g. you don’t have to include the exact wording of prompts into your work). Feel free to run rampant on interpretation. For example, if the prompt is "flame", you could create something with reference to a candle/campfire, your character could have suffered a burn, or the flame could be related to the 'spark' of a relationship. It's truly up to you!

In total, there are 4 prompts for each day: there's lyrics, an object, a trope and a line of dialogue to choose from.  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, photo/video/audio edits, paper crafts and elaborate recommendation lists (not just a list of links). 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:

#whumptober2023 …..(the event tag)

#no.1, #no.2, #no.3, …..(day number)

#lyric, #bruises, #stabbing,  …..(the theme or specific prompt you chose)

#fandom or #OC, … (ironman, originalcontent, oc …)

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

#teeth, #gore tw, #etc …..(trigger warnings & any additional tags. Add "tw" AFTER the trigger/content warning. )

#nsfwhump …..(only for nsfw content)

#your own tags go here

PLEASE BE DILIGENT WITH YOUR TAGGING. Only properly tagged posts are considered for archiving on the official @whumptober-archive blog. They must be tagged in the order above. An elaborate post about our tagging system can be found [here]

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. A form will be published at the beginning of November asking you to tell us if you completed the event. You do not need to post anything you have created, we rely on trust and we will not check this.

Questions not addressed in one of our many event info posts can be directed to this blog. We will not answer any questions that have been answered in the FAQs or rules already.

Frequently Asked Questions

Q. How does this year’s prompt list work? What do I have to choose?

You can create something based on:

The overall theme/lyric of the day

Prompt 1, 2 or 3

One or several of the alternative prompts

A combination of the above

Q. Is [specific anything] allowed?

When in doubt: JUST DO IT!

Q. Do I have to do all 31 days?

Participate as much or little as you like! Just be sure to tag your posts properly (ex. #no.7, #radio silence). If you create works for 31 total theme days you will become a completionist. But apart from that, there are no repercussions if you don’t fill prompts for each day.

Q. Can I post early/late?

Yes, you can post whenever you want. We will only reblog posts during October, but you can use our prompts all year round. The day you post will only affect your probability of being reblogged.

Q. Will you reblog my post?

Due to the sheer number of content posted during Whumptober we can’t promise to reblog every single post. We will make a random selection trying to capture a wide variety of content. The following will increase your chances at being reblogged:

tag your post properly

post within 2-3 days of the theme you want to fill: if you fill the prompt for Day 1 your chances of being reblogged during October 1st to 3rd are highest and will go towards zero afterwards.

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

Send us an ask! We’re happy to help with wild, unhelpful clarifications or brainstorming. That being said, the themes are entirely up for interpretation. Don’t take them too literally. For example: You can be choking on a cherry, someone else can choke you or you could be choked up on emotions, etc.

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 gifset 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. Can I combine Whumptober with other creation challenges?

Absolutely, as long as the other challenges allow it too.

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

Of course! You can post your own content wherever you like (or you can opt to not publish it at all). Additionally we’ve created an AO3 Collection to archive any fics posted there. It can be accessed here. The tumblr blog @whumptober-archive 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 you’ve previously posted something that checks the boxes, we ask that you not include it retroactively for this current year. You can, however, add new chapters relating to one or more of the prompts.

Q. What kind of characters can I write for?

Fandom characters, OC characters, human, furry, alien, cyborg, RPF, whoever you like. You can use the generic “whumpee” character or have specific ones.

Q. Does it have to take place in a specific fandom?

No, you can create works for your own worlds or for fandoms or for both. You can also create more generic or pan-fandom works. You can do cross-overs or use OCs, whatever you want.

Q. Can I use a prompt multiple times?

Yes, but it only counts once towards being a completionist.

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?

No, you can’t exchange prompts for different days. However, if all four prompts of a specific day make you uncomfortable, we have created an alternate prompts list that you can draw from. You can exchange any prompt with these, but please make sure not to use them twice.

Q. Where can I post my work?

Post where and how you want. You don’t have to (cross)post it to Tumblr or at all. 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/emotional whump focus ok?

Of course! We are not going to establish a threshold for whumpiness. If you think it’s whumpy enough, then it’s whumpy enough. It can be physical, psychological, emotional, or any combination of the three.

Q. What’s considered nsfw?

See this post

Q. What is whump?

Typically the genre includes situations where a fictional character is hurt, be it emotionally, psychologically, or physically. Fanlore provides information here.

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

If you don’t think your interpretation is whumpy, then it doesn’t count for Whumptober. Remember that whump comes in many forms, though, and that we don’t have a whump-checker or a threshold for how much whump needs to be included. If you think your interpretation contains enough whump to count, then it does.

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

Absolutely! That’s why we post the prompts a month in advance. We recognise how difficult it can be creating for 31 days in “real time” so feel free to start creating early!

Q. How do I tag triggers?

tw at the end of the word, ex. #gore 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 #whumptober2023 tag.

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

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

Q. Where can I go for brainstorming help?

Here on Discord or come into our ask box.

Q. My characters are minors, is that ok?

Yes, but as with everything else, use clear and descriptive tags.

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).

Thanks for reading, and happy whumping!

[formula-nyoom]

I'm Proud of You

Pairing: Platonic!Grid x Fem!Driver!Reader

Summary: Being the youngest and newest driver to the grid is not an easy adjustment to make and it ends up taking a toll on you. Thankfully some of the other drivers on the grid are there to look out for you.

A/N: Was going to wait till Saturday to post this, but I had a shit day today so I decided to post it now. Hope you enjoy!

~~~

No one really knew what Mercedes was thinking when they announced that they were signing you, an F2 rookie who placed 6th in the Formula 2 Championship, as the one to take the 2nd Mercedes seat. Everyone expected you to be named a reserve driver, so that you could prepare for the jump to F1. Yet here you were, jumping straight into the deep end. Even after you heard the news that you would be racing in Formula One, you were left more with shock and confusion rather than excitement. 

Sure, you had done a couple of test drives for Mercedes and had participated in an F1 practice session or two, but you didn’t think that was enough to put you in contention for a Formula One seat. 

But the media thought otherwise, and so did Mercedes. 

Both your friends and family tried to reassure you that you were good enough to race in Formula One, and you had seen countless interviews of Toto Wolf saying that he had made the right decision in signing you.

But none of that could take away the fact that all eyes were now on you. 

The first female to race in Formula One, and now the youngest on the grid.

The season hadn’t even started and yet you felt like Atlas holding the world weight of pressure that was placed upon your shoulders. You now have something to prove. And everyone was waiting for you to either fly or fall.

Maybe that’s why you couldn’t find the courage to cross the turnstile that led into the paddock during the first race weekend of the season. Crossing over would make everything real. And you would be doing it alone, as both your family and your manager weren't able to get to the track till later in the day. 

“Did you forget your badge on the first day?” A voice said from behind you. You turned to see Charles and Pierre.

 “You can just jump over the gate. Yuki does it all the time.” Pierre said. 

 “No, I have my badge…I’m just nervous to enter the paddock.” You said, motioning with your head to the turnstiles.

 “What makes you so nervous?” Charles asked.

“There’s a lot of people. And cameras. And people with cameras. I feel like I’m gonna get swarmed as soon as my foot crosses the entrance.” You said.

 “You’re not wrong. The media doesn’t really know the definition of personal space.” Charles said, taking a sip of his coffee. “If you want, I can act as a buffer and draw the attention away while Pierre helps you get past.”

 “Would that work? I just want to get to the Mercedes hospitality.”

“Oh trust me, the media loves Charles. They’ll be too focused on getting pictures of him to see us walk by.” Pierre said. You looked back at the people past the entrance and there seemed to be more than when you last looked. 

 “Well…if you’re sure it will work then we might as well try.” You said. Charles smiled and gave you a nod. He then took the sunglasses that were hanging on his hat and put them on before entering the paddock. Immediately, the people that had cameras flocked to Charles and started to take his picture as he tried to walk through the paddock. You and Pierre waited a couple moments to build enough distance between you and Charles before the two of you entered the paddock. You clutched the straps of your bag tightly, expecting the nearby paparazzi to turn around and immediately start taking pictures of you and Pierre, but they were too focused on Charles.  

Pierre’s hand hovered over your shoulder as he tried to block you from most of the cameras while guiding you through the paddock. While the two of you managed to pass Charles without getting noticed, you couldn’t help but feel a bit claustrophobic, seeing Charles surrounded by so many people trying to take his picture. Eventually, you and Pierre managed to make it to the Mercedes hospitality building.

“Is it always going to be like this?” You asked Pierre.

 “Unfortunately, yes. Especially since you’re the newest on the grid. I recommend you invest in a good pair of sunglasses. But I’m proud of you for getting past your first swarm of paparazzi.” Pierre said, ruffling your hair. You laughed and swatted his hand away as Charles walked up to the two of you.

 “Whew! Thank god Lewis walked in. I felt like those reporters and paparazzi would never leave.” Charles said.

 “Sorry for making you go through that.” You said, feeling a bit guilty. 

“Pas de soucis. I’m used to it and know how to handle them. Though I will advise that you never enter the paddock by yourself. The reporters are like vultures.” Charles said. “Anyway, we will see you at the press conference, no?”

 “Yep. I’ll see you there.” You said. Charles patted your shoulder before him and Pierre headed to their own team's hospitality. 

~~~

You were beginning to hate the press conferences that you had to go to. Any question that was directed towards you involved your performance on track, or lack thereof as some reporters like to put it. You were getting tired of having to answer questions that made you feel like a failure.

“This question is for (Y/N). We’re now five races into the season and you’ve been continuously out qualified and out placed by your teammate, George? Is there a certain struggle that you’re having with the car that may be the cause of this?”

If you could walk away from this question, you would. But instead you stayed in your seat and picked up the microphone next to you. Damn Mercedes PR training.

 “There’s still some learning with the car. The engineers have said that the car isn’t up to the standards they want it to be, so I am struggling a bit on track.” You said, giving your best PR approved answer that you could manage.

“But would it be safe to say that you are under performing at Mercedes in comparison to your teammate?” The reporter asked. You tried to steal your expression and act like the comment didn’t bother you.

 “What kind of question is that?” It wasn’t you that asked it, but Lando, who was sitting to your right. You looked at him with some confusion. So did the reporter.

“Is there something you would like to add, Lando?”

“Yea. You can’t say she’s underperforming when she’s a rookie that has only completed five races.” Lando said, an upset expression clear on his face. The reporter cleared his throat.

 “I’m just saying, some have doubts that Mercedes were too hasty in signing an F2 rookie and I wanted to know if that was being reflected in (Y/N)’s driving.” The reporter said, trying to control the situation

 “I think we already know your opinion on Mercedes' decision based on the questions you ask.” Carlos said, who was sitting next to Lando. “I agree with Lando that it’s unfair to judge (Y/N) based on her first five races.”

 “I’d say she’s actually doing pretty good for a rookie, considering she’s been able to score points in two out of the 5 races she’s done so far.” Lando said.

 “Much more than you have ever done.” Carlos said to the reporter. You tried to hide the smile that was slowly forming on your face but inevitably failed as you picked your microphone back up.

“To my two fellow drivers points, I think you’re discounting me too early. I will admit that there is still a learning curve and with the continuous upgrades that Mercedes keeps bringing to the car, I am constantly having to adjust to all the new additions while also trying to get used to driving a Formula One car every other weekend.” You said, making direct eye contact with the reporter. “But I will eventually get used to the car. And when I do, I think I will be able to match George and possibly start out qualifying.”

That seemed to silence the reporter, as he sat back down. It also seemed to signify the end of the press conference as reporters started to pack their things and you and the other drivers sitting on the couch with you got up and left the room.

“Mate, I’m so proud of you and how you handled that reporter.” Lando said once you were out of the room. He placed his hand on your shoulder and pulled you into a side hug.

 “I was ready to walk out of the press conference when I heard that question. Why do these reporters always have to compare me to George?”

 “Because that's what they do. All of us get compared to our teammates because our teammates are seen as our biggest competition.” Carlos said. “You’re gonna get it more because you’re new.”

“Just remember that you can refuse to answer any questions that make you uncomfortable.” Lando said. 

 “Even the sexist ones?” You asked. Carlos and Lando nodded their heads.

“Especially the sexist ones.” Carlos said.

 “Better yet, I’ll answer them for you in the most ridiculous manner so that way they’ll stop asking you questions like that.” Lando said, making you laugh.

~~~

So many more races. Too many races. How does a Formula One driver get through all these races and have a chance to calm down? You were used to things going fast, but lately you just wanted a chance to slow down and breathe. 

That’s how you found yourself sitting on the floor in an empty VIP room, looking out the window at a mostly empty racetrack. Phone in hand. Staring at the clock that displayed the timezone back at home.

2:00AM. Your parents are definitely asleep right now. It’s not a good time to call them, no matter how much you want to. 

You were so focused on staring at your phone, you didn’t notice that Max had walked in.

“Sadly I don’t think drivers count as VIPs at the races they have to participate in.” Max said as he sat down next to you, a Redbull in his hand.

 “It’s the only place that I can find privacy and some peace and quiet.” You said still staring at your phone.

2:01AM.

You turned your phone off and let out a sigh, placing it down next to you.

 “Something the matter?” Max asked. You hesitated. You didn’t want to burden a 3-time World Champion with your upset thoughts, that was for your non-existent therapist. But then again, maybe talking to someone who has been in your position before may make you feel a bit better.

“I haven’t found a good time to call my parents since the start of the season.” You said. “They were able to make it to my first race, which was amazing. I was really glad they could come…but with so many races on the calendar, it’s hard for them to come to all of them, and all the changing time zones makes it hard to find a good time to call them.” You told him. “I miss talking to them.”

Max looked at you, took in how you were hugging your knees. Max sometimes forgets that you're now the youngest driver on the grid. On the track he sees you as competition, but now he sees you as the overwhelmed rookie that you looked like right now.

“I understand what you're feeling. It does get overwhelming a lot of times.” He said. You turned to him.

 “How do you deal with it?”

“No matter what country we are in, I try to find a day or time where I can get the farthest away from being a race car driver. A spot that’s farthest away from the track where I’m not “Max Verstappen, The Red Bull Driver”, but just “Max”.” He said.

 “Don’t you get recognized wherever you go?” You asked

“Absolutely. But being away from the track, even for an hour, makes me less overwhelmed. And in regards to wanting to talk to your parents, yes finding a time to communicate is hard, but sometimes you just have to throw timezones out the window and call your parents. Even if you can only talk to them for five minutes, it’s still five minutes that you get to talk to them.” Max explained. 

You thought about what Max said. It would make you feel a bit guilty, waking your parents up in the middle of the night just because you wanted to talk to them. But at the same time, sometimes they’re the only people that could make you feel better. You looked back down at your phone.

2:05 AM

You’d be ok with just five minutes.

 “I think I’m gonna call my parents.” You said to Max. He smiled and gave you a nod before standing up.

 “I’ll let you have your privacy. But my driver’s room is open if you want to talk about anything except racing.” Max said before leaving the room. You smiled at him before calling your parents.

~~~

Finally you had finished a race with what you thought was a good race result. P6 was your highest placement so far this season and it was something you should be proud of. But even if you thought it was a good result, you knew that people were going to comment that George had gotten P4, placing ahead of you again. To you, it felt like no matter how high you climbed up the grid, if George finished in front of you, your result wasn’t something to be proud of. 

You were knocked out of your thoughts by someone bumping your shoulder. It was Oscar walking alongside you. The fact that he was looking directly at you made you assume the bump was intentional to get your attention.

“Proud of you.” Oscar said. “This was just like that one season of Formula 2 we raced in together.”

You scoffed but smiled.

 “Yea, except I now have the knowledge not to shunt the car into the back of yours.” You said. You spent most of thid race chasing Oscar’s rear wing and were glad that you didn’t do what you had just said.

“That time was an accident. I know you didn’t do it on purpose.” Oscar said. The two of you stopped walking as you got closer to where the podium interviews were taking place. The two of you watched as Charles was getting interviewed about his winning result. 

“So am I gonna see you up on that podium this season?” Oscar asked. You didn’t want to shake your head, but your body acted on instinct. You have been shaking your head a lot these days.

 “That seems unlikely. I haven’t been able to match George’s pace at all and he keeps out qualifying me.” You said. Oscar looked at you confused.

 “What are you on about? You were only 2 seconds off George and that was only because I was in between the two of you.” He said. You sighed.

“Yea but it was still 2 seconds behind George. It doesn’t matter how much time is between the two of us, if I’m behind him that’s all the media is going to care about.” You said. “I’ll never have the pace to pass him.”

“Hey!” Oscar grabbed your shoulders so that you would face him. “You have the pace. You’ve been building it up this whole season. At the start you were what? 10 seconds behind him? Now you’re two. Soon there’s going to be no gap because you’ll be ahead of him at some point. It’s bound to happen.”

Maybe it was the adrenaline finally wearing down, or the fact that Oscar was saying something you had been wanting to hear from your race engineer, or your team princpal, or hell, even it’s something the media should be noticing: that you’re catching up and proving your pace. Oscar’s words were making you feel like you belonged on the grid.

 “You think so?” You asked, needing the confirmation. 

“I know so. Screw what everyone else says.” Oscar said. “Are you proud of your P6?”

 You looked back at your car, then at the car of your teammate’s before your eyes landed back at Charles. You’d be in his spot at some point this season, you just knew it.

 “Yea. I’m proud of myself.”

[augusnippets]

Prompts are out!

plain text and "rules" under the cut

path of hurt:

day 1: gaslighting/hypnosis/brainwashing

day 4: amputation/degloving/vivisection

day 7: waterboarding/drowning/choking

day 10: execution/fake execution/begging for mercy

day 13: drugging/poisoning/cannibalism

day 16: humiliation/dehumanisation/conditioning

day 19: collared/branded/chipped

day 22: captivity/recapture/tearful goodbye

day 25: intimate whumper/sadistic whumper/reluctant whumper

day 28: mind control/body control/betrayal

bonus prompts: forced to watch/whipping/stalked

path of comfort:

day 2: platonic bathing/hair care/make-up

day 5: drunk caretaking/concussed caretaking/feverish caretaking

day 8: reunion/found family/friends

day 11: escape/breaking the conditioning/safe and sound

day 14: toys/gifts/celebration

day 17: forgiveness/grace/resolving a misunderstanding

day 20: homemade meal/quenched thirst/favourite treat

day 23: massage/wiping away tears/gentle touch

day 26: nightmare/warm blanket/snuggling

day 29: singing/first words/inside jokes

bonus prompts: tending to nonhuman whumpee's nonhuman parts/protective caretaker/whumpee wearing caretaker's clothes

secret third path — whumperless whump:

day 3: thunderstorm/blizzard/heat wave

day 6: car accident/plane crash/ship wreck

day 9: hypothermia/overheating/dehydration

day 12: lost/trapped/avalanche

day 15: food poisoning/starvation/throwing up

day 18: apocalypse/infection/self administered medicine

day 21: delirium/vertigo/hallucinations

day 24: animal attack/bear trap/land mine

day 27: migraines/chronic pain/phantom pains

day 30: self-harm/addiction/overdose

bonus prompts: flashbacks/relapse/medical complications

day 31 — bonus day :) write whatever you feel like writing today or have a nice day of rest

AuguSnippets is an event that encourages the short and sweet of the whump genre. Ideally, your drabbles would be under 500 or even under 100 words, maybe even just a dialogue prompt. This, however, does not mean I won't reblog longer prompt fills! Don't stress too much on that limit. I just think it's sometimes nice to challenge yourself to write shorter drabbles, and it can also work as a very good exercise to write daily or semi-daily, and it doesn't need a lot of prep.

As for tagging your work, please use the appropriate trigger warnings. This is so everyone can stay safe and avoid potentially triggering topics while participating. Also, if your work is nsfw, please don't forget to tag it as mature content! If your work is not tagged properly, I won't be able to reblog it! Thank you!

Our special tag will be "#augusnippets day [x]". On the first day that would be "#augusnippets day 1". This is so I and others can find your work easier! You can also tag the blog, that's an even more surefire way to get me to notice your prompt fill :)

Is this a writing only event?

Yeah, this one is exclusively writing focused.

Do I have to use the special tag or tag this blog?

Not if you don't want to get featured on this blog :) It's just so I can find your work easier and reblog it here! If that's not something you're interested in, just scribble away without it.

Is the "under 500" a hard limit for the word count?

No, but I encourage everyone to try and keep to it in the spirit of this event.

Can I submit nsfw works?

Yes! Just please tag it properly :)

Can I mix and match the prompts from different paths?

Yes! Have fun!

What do I need to do to get the completionist badge?

Either you need to complete one whole path, or complete 10 prompt fills altogether while mixing and matching. Those who complete all 30 days (and maybe even the bonus day) will get something extra special!

Can I write fandom related things?

Yes! This event is both for original characters and fandom related writing.

Will there be an AO3 collection?

Yes! Here

[plounce]

researching stuff for a post about misinformation regarding girl scout cookies and man this article (10/28/23) about this palestinian-american girl scout nearly made me burst into tears

In her short 17 years on earth, Amira Ismail had never been called a baby killer.

That’s what happened one Friday this month, Amira said, on New York City’s Q58 bus, which runs through central Queens.

“This lady looked at me, and she was like: ‘You’re disgusting. You’re a baby killer. You’re an antisemite,’” Amira told me. When she talked about this incident, her signature spunk faded. “I just kept saying, ‘That’s not true,’” she said. “I was just on my way to school. I was just wearing my hijab.”

Amira was born in Queens in the years after the Sept. 11 attacks. She remembers participating as a child in demonstrations at City Hall as part of a successful movement to make Eid al-Fitr and Eid al-Adha school holidays in New York City.

But since the Oct. 7 attack by Hamas, in which an estimated 1,400 Israelis were killed and some 200 others were kidnapped, Amira, who is Palestinian American, said she has experienced for the first time the full fury of Islamophobia and racism that her older relatives and friends have told stories about all her life. Throughout the city, in fact, there has been an increase in both anti-Muslim and antisemitic attacks.

In heavily Muslim parts of Queens, she said, police officers are suddenly everywhere, asking for identification and stopping and frisking Muslim men. (New York City has stepped up its police presence around both Muslim and Jewish neighborhoods and sites within the five boroughs.) Most painful though, she said, is the sense that she and her peers are getting that Palestinian lives do not matter, as they watch the United States staunchly back Israel as it heads into war.

“It can’t go unrecognized, the thousands of Palestinians that have been murdered in the past two weeks and even more the past 75 years,” Amira said. “There’s no way you can erase that.” That does not mean she is antisemitic, she said. “How can I denounce one system of oppression without denouncing another?” she asked me. The pain in her usually buoyant voice cut through me. I had no answer for her.

Many New York City kids have a worldliness about them, a certain telltale moxie. Amira, a joyful, sneaker-wearing, self-described “Queens kid,” can seem unstoppable.

When she was just 15, Amira helped topple a major mayoral campaign in America’s largest city, writing a letter accusing the ultraprogressive candidate Dianne Morales of having violated child labor laws while purporting to champion the working class in New York.

“My life and my extremely bright future as a 15-year-old activist will not be defined by the failures and harm enabled by Dianne Morales,” Amira wrote in the 2021 letter, which went viral and helped end Ms. Morales’s campaign. “I wrote my college essay about that,” Amira told me with a slightly mischievous smile.

In the past two years, Amira has become a veteran organizer. Last weekend, she joined an antiwar protest. First, though, she’ll have to work on earning her latest Girl Scout badge, this one for photography. That will mean satisfying her mother, Abier Rayan, who happens to be Troop 4179’s leader. “She’s tough,” Amira assured me.

At a meeting of the Muslim Girl Scouts of Astoria last week, a young woman bounded into the room, asking whether her fellow scouts had secured tickets to an Olivia Rodrigo concert. “She’s the Taylor Swift of our generation,” the scout turned to me to explain.

A group of younger girls recited the Girl Scout Law:

“I will do my best to be honest and fair, friendly and helpful, considerate and caring, courageous and strong, and responsible for what I say and do, and to respect myself and others, respect authority, use resources wisely, make the world a better place and be a sister to every Girl Scout.”

Amira’s mother carefully inspected the work of some of the younger scouts; she wore a blue Girl Scouts U.S.A. vest, filled with colorful badges, and a hot-pink hijab. “It’s no conflict at all,” Ms. Rayan told me of Islam and the Girl Scouts. “You want a strong Muslim American girl.”

At the Girl Scouts meeting, Amira and her friends discussed their plans to protest the war in Gaza. “Protests are where you let go of your anger,” Amira told me.

Amira’s mother was born in Egypt. In 1948, Ms. Rayan told me, her grandfather lost his home and land in Jaffa to the state of Israel. At the Girl Scout meeting, Ms. Rayan was still waiting for word that relatives in Gaza were safe.

“There’s been no communication,” she said. When I asked about Amira, Ms. Rayan’s eyes brightened. “I’m really proud of her,” she said. “You have to be strong. You don’t know where you’re going to be tomorrow.”

By Monday, word had reached Ms. Rayan that her relatives had been killed as Israel bombed Gaza City. When I asked whom she had lost, Ms. Rayan replied: “All of them. There’s no one left.” Thousands of Palestinians are estimated to have been killed by Israeli airstrikes in Gaza in recent weeks. ... Ms. Rayan said those killed in her family included six cousins and their children, who were as young as 2. Other relatives living abroad told her the cousins died beneath the rubble of their home.

As Ms. Rayan spoke, I saw Amira’s young face. I wondered how long this bright, spirited Queens kid could keep her fire for what I believe John Lewis would have called “good trouble” in a world that seems hellbent on snuffing it out. I worried about how she would finish her college applications.

“I have a lot of angry emotions at the ones in charge,” Amira told me days ago, speaking for so many human beings around the world in this dark time.

I thought about what I had seen over that weekend in Brooklyn, where thousands gathered in the Bay Ridge neighborhood, the home of many Arab Americans, to protest the war. In this part of the city, people of many backgrounds carried Palestinian flags through the street. Large groups of police officers gathered on every corner, watching them go by.

The crowd was large but quiet when Amira waded in, picked up her megaphone and called for Palestinian liberation. In an instant, thousands of New Yorkers repeated after her, filling the Brooklyn street with their voices. My prayer is that Amira’s generation of leaders will leave a better world than the one it has been given.

i believe she recently got her gold award (which, if youve never been in girl scouts, is really difficult - way more difficult than eagle scout awards), or is almost done with it. i hope she's doing okay.

this article (no paywall) about muslim and palestinian girl scout troops in socal also almost made me cry (it's like 2am). i really really hope all these kids are doing alright. god. they and their families all deserve so much better

[oukabarsburgblr]

DOM/SUB DYNAMICS WITH UR OCS…PLS……🙏🙏🙏

Yuh yuh okay hawk ptuh lesgo

Aito Sousuke...

Flaming red hair, its length barely grazing over his upper back and his face that just screams masculinity and dominance...Yeah you aint ever topping him.

He really likes to manhandle you, constantly putting you in positions where you feel suffocated and could only focus on the shape of his cock thrusting inside of you.

His favourite position was either doggy or the one where your half-laid on the bed and hes holding your legs up while fucking his dick into your ass, him leaning down to suck on your tongue.

I would say hes one of those pleasure doms where he sees you cumming or squirting a whole lot is the best and most satisfying for him. It reflects of how good of a job he did pleasuring you.

Hes not entirely focused on his own sexual gratification. But he is horny 24/7. Not all the time but whenever the both of you are alone, you bet hes sticking his tongue down your throat.

He doesnt try to explore, he only needs your skin against his and hes a-okay. Hes not shy to use his tongue, in fact one of his favourite things to do with you is the 69 position, with you on top. Hes a MUNCH. Like if he could hed have a fucking badge of it.

Sometimes he'll let you crawl on top of him, maybe riding him or even let you lay down during the 69 position although he'll thrust his cock into your mouth while fingering your ass.

Theres no clear signals for boundaries or the sort. He knows your body well and he knows when to switch it up if youre too stimulated in one position. Your mouth is his favourite part.

Hes not into voyeurism, your body during your intimate acts are for his and his eyes only. He doesnt talk a lot during sex. Only moaning into your ear, mumbling how tight your little hole is.

Unless it just involves another party actively participating in sex together...which leads us to him.

Daisuke Yuichi

Smooth pale skin and a mop of black hair, Daisuke Yuichi can be presumed to be a prince of some land, especially with his status and he'll proceed to be one in bed.

He's very teasing, always edging you, jacking you off and clenching your tip. Foreplay is his middle name. The best at it.

He enjoys long make out session with you, especially if your in his lap. He gets to shove his hand inside your pants and just grope, squeeze and massage your soft cheeks. He'll even tease you when if your tongue was flat, asking you to stick it out more while scratching at your rim.

Every inch of your face would be coated with spit, him licking cheeks, your lips, he would bite at your throat before sucking it softly.

He's a clear cut dom, the one that tells you what to do, but he prioritises your limits, constantly needing a verbal affirmation from you before proceeding with his ludicrous acts.

He loves seeing you work for it, forcing you to masturbate in front of him, crawling and kneeling in front of him to give him a blowjob. He doesn't manhandle you a lot, only if you like to do it against the wall.

Favourite position is the mating press, he get to see your panicking or cockdrunk face while rutting his dick deep inside you. He loooooves to come inside you. Especially on your face.

He doesnt always to use his tongue on your ass though, only if you ask for it since he prefers to finger you instead. Like his pecs, his fingers are thick so it was enough to stuff it in you. He loves roleplay and using copious amount of lube just to hear your hole squelch.

Your sounds are his favourite, whether it be crying of pleasure, slapping of skin and especially moaning his first name, he gets off of it so baddd.

Taglist:

@tehyunnie @rainnyydaysworld @webwanderer @a-short-ass-disappointment @chikai-k @mello-life25 @miyuuuki @simpsations @sugar-p0p @kiiyoooo @helloanime @garlicforthewin @jaxyy219 @mikahrh @gayaristocrat

[seelestia]

in lieu of the boop fest: genshin men as boopers.

⎯ something made on a whim to commemorate the lovely booping chaos going on. may not be accurate but i tried!!! 🙏 which one are you?? tag yourself /j this is the silliest thing ever, forgive me. fluff & crack (and made with love).

the harbinger of dedication (???): boop them once and oh, it's on. boops you back and will not stop booping you back — it's an all-out war! or at least, to them. they take this whole matter as an opportunity and certainly don't mind tiring their fingers out just tapping the button on repeat. does it for the fun and to get a reaction out of you. also, probably eats (sends) super boops for breakfast, lunch and dinner. it's their bread and butter.

childe (of course), arataki itto, cyno (has a desire to max out his boop-o-meter till the end - a completionist's habit).

the menace (as simple as that): they have no need to be booped because they're the one booping you first and a lot at that too. oh, you got 99+ notifs? yeah, that's an act of love and it's from them. they hoped you liked the gift because they had fun giving it. grab a handkerchief because you're gonna have to scrub that smirk off their face, literally.

wriothesley, kaeya, shikanoin heizou, lyney (he apologizes by treating you to a meal afterwards).

confusion (awkward ver.): ...what. what is this? what does 'boop' even mean? why does it sound so oddly menacing when uttered out loud? and why are you smiling at like that? it's a trend, you explain and they — reluctantly and nervously — send a boop back. they have no idea what they're doing but at least, seeing that proud look on your face amounts to something. maybe, they did well? they then proceed to send you another one just for good measure. how cute.

xiao, gorou.

confusion (boomer ver.): their first thought was that they're getting hacked by a... feline virus? how interesting (please explain). with some explanation from you, they'll eventually understand the concept! a passive booper at best, but has a proclivity to treat boops as a “i'm thinking about you” button. so just know one boop equals to one time you crossed their mind.

zhongli, neuvillette, dainsleif (still confused at the end of it), diluc (secretly because he has pride).

the 'humble' reciprocator (dark horse?): all is in perfect tandem. you give one boop, they give one back. you give two boops, they give two back. you squint your eyes at them from across the room suspiciously, they chuckle into their hand in response. is that an act of mischief or demureness? you wonder what will happen if you boop them one hundred times? well, let's find out. (they will give back the exact amount, no matter what.)

kaedehara kazuha, baizhu, kamisato ayato (a true hybrid between being humble and a menace, he is. starts off nice until he spams boops when you least expect it... with a smile, of course!).

the bystander with the popcorn: thanks for the boop, you get one back. yes, only one, sorry. they'd rather not participate in the chaos and prefer to keep their inbox clean. no offense meant, you're free to have your fun so go ahead. they're just here to observe because in their humblest opinion, it serves them well enough as participating does. oh, don't look at them like that. you did get one back, didn't you? rejoice in the fact that you're one of the few — if not, the only one — they gave a boop to. treat it as an approval badge. it means you're special (to them).

alhaitham, tighnari, albedo, wanderer (he thinks he's above this childish and pointless act of booping... or is he?).

the victim™: is getting booped left and right without rest. suffocating and drowning in them even. lady luck is not on their side; they swore they booped everyone back to infinity and beyond — surely, it's all repaid and they can take a break now, right? wrong. they rest for 5 minutes and come back to 99+ notifs every single time. (if you relate, you might be a victim of affectionate bullying. feel free to riot about it.)

kaveh, thoma.

the loser at the start line: sneezes whenever the paw comes up on screen, yikes. A+ for effort, though!

venti.

— thanks for reading!

© seelestia on tumblr, apr 2024. please do not repost, plagiarize, translate, use for AI-related purposes or claim as your own.

[theolivetree123]

◇ Yuuki's New Club ◇

Yuuki stared at the poster in their hand. They furrowed their brow as their hand stiffened, trying not to tear the paper in frustration. Their other hand grew sweaty with fear, and the tape in that hand turned damp. Grim, Ace and Deuce simply stared. This nervousness was nothing new from Yuuki.

"Come on, Henchman, just put up the sign already!" Grim yelled causing Yuuki to drop the tape.

Yuuki groaned as they clumsily picked up the tape from the ground. "Ugh, its... it's not that simple for me, Grim! I mean, gosh... in my world, people treated me like a speck of literal dust! It's not unusual for me to not want to but myself out there. Ugh, why did Crowely even allow me to make this stupid club..."

Deuce walked to Yuuki, putting a hand on their shoulder. "Yuuki, if you need us to put up these poster for you, we can. But, just so you know, I think your club will be amazing! Whether people join or not."

Ace lightly pushed Deuce away. "Ugh, don't let them off the hook, Deuce! Yuuki should be able to do this themselves. They shouldn't be relying on us to do stuff for em! Do you remember last week when we had to give an entire presentation because Yuuki was too afraid to go up in front of the class? Or maybe when-"

"Okay! Okay! I get it, Ace..." Yuuki quickly interrupted Ace and then looked at their poster.

☆「Art Club」☆

Founded by Yuuki Kamiyama, Art Club will be for people to not only make art, but research it, learn about its origins, and come to appreciate the work that goes into making a masterpiece.

If you'd like to join, please meet Yuuki in class 1-F tomorrow immediately after school ends.

Yuuki stared at the words. Who would want to join this club? Who would want to join Yuuki? They sighed. "Do you guys think anyone would want to join this club?"

Grim, Ace and Deuce paused for a moment. Then Ace spoke up. "Of course, Yuuki. There's gotta be at least one person in this school who loves art as much as you do. I'm sure of it!"

Deuce smiled. "I agree. You'll surely find people for your club here."

Grim jumped onto Yuuki's shoulder. "Yeah! C'mon Yuuki, you gotta think positive!"

Yuuki sighed again and smiled as they brushed their hair to the side. "I sure hope you guys are right." Then, Yuuki tore a piece of tape and stuck the poster to the lunchroom wall.

"Okay, let's get out of here before I change my mind..." Yuuki quickly turned away from the poster. Ace and Deuce followed.

◇ Welcome to Art Club! ◇

Yuuki has made their very own club! In classroom 1-F, they hold Art Club.

Yuuki would love some new members! Would you be willing to join?

Rules:

Only NRC students can join!

Everyone can participate! Whether you're following me or not.

No NSFW!

You can make fanart, make cards, write fanfics, etc.

Tag me if you choose to make anything for this mini event!

If you choose to make a card, you can use these club card blanks from my good friend, trinket!

I made the club badges below and the classroom background above. Please credit me if you use them! I have made an Art Club badge for every single canon NRC dorm.

Dress Code:

All you have to do is wear your club shirt (a shirt with the club badge on it). That's it! Everything else is up to you.

I will be posting Yuuki's own club card, as well!

◇ Club Members ◇

Yuubeni Chōga - @bunniehunn

That's it!

If you have any questions, please ask me!

Tagging below:

@cheerleaderman @moonyasnow @ashipiko @babyghoul138 @skibidibabygirl @skriblee-ksk @oya-oya-okay @the-rini-rush @twtysevapr @taruruchi @scint1llat3 @screamintoad @bunniehunn @gimmeurmoneyagh @offorestsongs @shinysparklesapphires @beneathsakurashade @gl00myb3arz @fell-e @the-trinket-witch @boopshoops

Let me know if you don't want to be tagged!

[mockerycrow]

BUMP IN THE NIGHT (Roommate!Gaz x GN!Reader)

roommate!gaz masterlist

summary; your halloween costume makes kyle feel things.

a/n; i’m an american trying to understand the british school system. 😭 corrections are welcomed!!

AFTER SECONDARY SCHOOL, Kyle stopped going to parties and such. He used to go to parties all the time, at the very least it would be once a week—even if the party was held on a school night. He kept up with his grades and he was pretty responsible, so he saw no reason to stop. He drank, sure—yes, perhaps he got black out drunk a couple of times, but he never did anything too reckless or dangerous. Kyle used to be the type where you would blink and he would wander off, but he grew out of that pretty quickly. He never tried to take his friends’ keys and try to drive their cars or anything, was never the type to need their phone taken away so he wouldn’t drunk-text an ex; nothing.

Even after spending his time in the British army, he didn’t really go out to party with his mates like that. Kyle would go to bars and such, but he wouldn’t try to do drinking games or challenges like he would at eardrum bursting parties held in people’s homes whilst their parents were on business trips. So imagine his surprise when you inform him you’re going to a little party—your words are “get together”, but Kyle’s convinced otherwise—you let him know the invitation you were given also extended to him, but Kyle insisted that he should stay home; hand out the candy and such. Kyle’s never been too big on Halloween, but he did celebrate it in some way. Sometimes it was used as an excuse to get together and party when he was a teenager, and he did participate in trick-or-treating as a child.

You plan on drinking at this get together, so Kyle’s been waiting by the front door with his jacket on, sneakers tied, keys in hand. He's going with you for once, but he didn’t have time to grab a costume, which you insist that it’s fine. You said you’d be done putting your costume on at least ten minutes ago, so Kyle is curious about what's taking you so long. He nearly starts walking to your bedroom to knock and check in on you, maybe you’re stuck—hell, he doesn’t even know what you’re going as—but the second his muscles twitch, he hears your door squeak open. He mentally notes that he should oil the hinges for you. “Close your eyes!” You call from behind the corner. Kyle huffs and closes his eyes. “No peeking!”

“I won’t!” Kyle responds, crossing his arms. He hears you shift around, a closed mouth sigh escaping your throat for a moment. His ears pick up your feet walking closer—you sounded, heavier? Like there was more weight on you somehow. “Wait, m’not done yet.” You grunt, adjusting something that had velcro on it. Kyle can’t stop the lip twitch at your irritated tone, like something wasn’t completely going your way and it was amusing. You shift something else, fabric rubbing against fabric. “Okay, you can look now.”

Kyle opens his eyes and his jaw drops ever so slightly when he sees what he sees; you, wearing tactical gear. Albeit, it’s airsoft tactical gear, but it’s tac-gear nonetheless. You have woodland camo on; the frogs camo jacket as well as pants on—marines inspired, he thinks—with a matching green vest, decked out in magazines of both a rifle and a pistol, some pair of scissors taped to some pliers in a pocket. There’s some fake smoke grenades and flashbangs attached to your tactical belt, and you have a radio in a pocket, a wire trailing up to your ear. You’re holding a rifle that has bright blue tape on it to indicate it’s fake—you’re going to a party, for god’s sake—and you have a thigh holster for a pistol he’s sure also has blue tape. You even have combat boots on, and your ankle bulges as if you have an ankle holster. You have a little pack attached to your tactical belt, and he spots some zip ties in an offhand pocket. The only thing you’re missing is a flag badge on your chest and your shoulder, as well as a unit badge. There’s eyeblack messily smudged underneath your eyes. Kyle laughs in disbelief and amazement, speechless for a moment. “What the fuck?”

You laugh, knowing his reaction is positive. You hold your rifle close to your chest, practicing good trigger discipline as your finger rests outside of the trigger guard. “You like it?” You ask, doing a little spin for him, allowing him to take in the details you put the effort in making. Kyle notes how heavy you sound and he laughs again. “Bloody hell, I didn’t know you were gettin’ this together! Yeah, I like it!” Kyle exclaims, approaching you. He reaches out and grabs your shoulders, moving you about as he pleases, clearly appreciating the detail. You grumble a bit as a complaint, but you let him do what he wants. “Jesus, how long did this take?” Kyle asks with an astonished tone. He’s quietly nitpicking it a bit—he is special forces, his brain cannot help it—but he overall really does like your aim for accuracy.

“Hm, well, maybe a month? A month or two?” You guess out loud, shrugging. “I wasn’t really keeping track.” Kyle snorts and shakes his head before looking at the rifle. “Before you say anything,” You utter, handing him the rifle. “It’s not an airsoft rifle, and it’s not real. My airsoft one is locked away.” Kyle blinks for a moment as he checks out the rifle, his eyes flickering between you as the gun sits in his arms so naturally. “You have an airsoft rifle??” Kyle asks, truly confused because last he checked, you didn’t play. You hum and you adjust your vest, the velcro ripping as you do so. “My friend wanted to get me into it so they gave me a lot of their old stuff. I’ve played a round or two, it’s actually fun.”

His eyebrows raise for a moment in acknowledgement and Kyle looks at you once again. His eyes slowly trace every detail of the uniform clinging to your body, the details, and the way your eyeblack is very poorly applied. Something tightens in his chest as you begin to ramble about how much research you did about tactical gear and how many pictures you used as reference. You’re murmuring something, but Kyle isn’t paying attention. His face feels a bit hot as his eyes are glued to you; he never understood why people liked tactical gear so much until now—something was.. feeling off inside of his gut.

“Kyle.”

He blinks rapidly before offering a smile and a questioning “hm?” You laugh and cross your arms in front of you, causing Kyle’s eyes to flicker away for a moment. “You spaced out.” You say, uncrossing your arms and taking the rifle from him. Kyle waves you off and rubs the back of his neck, his eyes looking towards the front door. “Mm, sure, c’mon. Let’s go.” Kyle laughs, a nervous feeling bubbling in his gut—a feeling he doesn’t understand. He opens the front door, swinging his keys around his pointer finger as his heart pounds hard in his chest. “Gonna be my DD?” You tease, Kyle hearing you close the door behind you two, hearing the gear you’re wearing shift around. Kyle refuses to look at you in fear of throwing up—he doesn’t understand why he’s suddenly so anxious—but he laughs, unlocking the car. “It is my turn, isn’t it?”

[summer-of-bad-batch]

SUMMER OF BAD BATCH 2024 HAS COME TO AN END…TUNE IN NEXT YEAR FOR SUMMER OF BAD BATCH 2025!!

2024 Participants, Completionists & Overachievers!

SUMMER OF BAD BATCH 2024: POST CREDITS (Ao3 Collection)

EVENT BADGES

PARTICIPANT FORM

☀️GENERAL INFORMATION BELOW THE CUT☀️

Bad Batch Would You Rather Game Suggestions

FREE EVENT BANNERS AND DIVIDERS

Summer of Bad Batch 2024 Prompt List

***Fill prompts all summer! No deadlines! See below cut for more details 😎***

200 Followers Celebration Bonus Prompt:

Bonus Alternate Prompt: "Can you braid my hair?"

300 Followers Celebration Bonus Prompt:

Bonus Alternate Prompt: Light in the Darkness

Week 1

Main Prompt: Water Gun Fight

Alt. Prompt: “It’s not what you think.”

Week 2

Main Prompt: Injured

Alt. Prompt: Comfort Zone

Week 3

Main Prompt: “It’s just a scratch.”

Alt. Prompt: “Forget I asked.”

Week 4

Main Prompt: Cadets

Alt. Prompt: "You really think you're going without me? Not going to happen."

Week 5

Main Prompt: “You’re a bad liar.”

Alt. Prompt: “Need a hand?”

Week 6

Main Prompt: Battle Scars

Alt. Prompt: “Get out of my room!”

Week 7

Main Prompt: “Don’t avoid the question.”

Alt. Prompt: Getting a Haircut

Week 8

Main Prompt: Swimming Lessons

Alt. Prompt: Lula

Week of 9

Main Prompt: “Hold still.”

Alt. Prompt: Stargazing

Week 10

Main Prompt: Hugs

Alt. Prompt: “Just when were you planning on telling us that?”

Week 11

Main Prompt: “I didn’t think I would get this far.”

Alt. Prompt: “Yeah, kid, we’re fine.”

Week 12

Main Prompt: Nightmares

Alt. Prompt: Radio Silence

Week 13

Main Prompt: “Stop touching me!” // “I’m not touching you!”

Alt. Prompt: Crashing Hard

🥳🥳That’s the end of the Summer of Bad Batch 2024 prompt list…feel free to use all prompts and tags forever and ever🥳🥳

You can find the Ao3 collection HERE!

And I know that sometimes, it can be a pain to figure out how to add to collections (please tell me I'm not the ONLY one who has struggled with this 😭), so here's a step by step!

STEP ONE: Post a New Work OR Edit an existing work.

STEP TWO: Under the Associations category, you’ll see “Post to Collections / Challenges”

STEP THREE: Type summerofbadbatch2024 (no spaces)

STEP FOUR: This is where it gets tricky...the collection may or may not auto populate. If it doesn't, that's okay. Just leave summerofbadbatch2024 in there as is, and save the post (you can even save it as a draft and see if it worked!) It should add it to the collection even if it didn't auto populate 🤓

Q: What is Summer of Bad Batch??

A: Summer of Bad Batch is a laidback, summer prompt challenge from June 1st-August 31st. Every Sunday (12am CST), a prompt and alternative prompt will be released to inspire creativity in the Star Wars: The Bad Batch fandom! By filling prompts by August 31st, you can qualify as a:

Participant (completed 1-12 prompts)

Completionist (completed 13+ prompts)

Overachiever (completed 13 main prompts + the 13 alternative prompts)

At the end of the challenge, there will be a form for participants to fill out to let me know what category of completion they fall into. A post will be made for each category giving a shoutout and (if you’d like) a link to your Master List of completed prompt fills.

Q: What can I do to fill a prompt?

A: Anything you want! Fanfic, fan art, drabbles, doodles, cartoons, poetry...the possibilities are endless! The only real criteria is that it has to be based on Star Wars: The Bad Batch.

Q: Will you reblog prompt fills?

A: Yes! However, since I am keeping this blog PG, I will only reblog prompt fills that fit within that criteria. Basically, if it could be in the literal show itself, it could be reblogged here ☺️

(That said, I won’t reblog any clone x clone content simply because it is one of my main squicks 😅)

Also, make sure you tag your prompt fills! That's the only way I'll be able to find them in the wide world of Tumblr! So, tag your prompt fills with #summerofbadbatch2024 so I (and anyone else who is looking for Summer of Bad Batch goodness!) can find your posts!

(And everything is welcome on the Ao3 Summer of Bad Batch 2024 Collection — so make sure to add to it if you’re on Ao3!)

Q: When will prompts be released?

A: Every Sunday (with the exception of Week 1, which will have a special release date of Saturday, June 1st) at 12am CST.

Q: What if I don’t understand a prompt?

A: Send me a message or an ask! I’d be happy to help!

Q: What if I don’t like the weekly prompt?

A: Every week will have an alternate prompt available! And alternate prompts can be swapped out for any main prompt, regardless of which week!

Q: Where can I post my prompt fills?

A: Anywhere you'd like! Personally, I'm only on Ao3 and Tumblr...but I know that this fandom is literally all over the internet, so wherever you feel comfortable posting, do it!!

Q: What if I don't finish filling the prompt within the week?

A: One of my favorite parts of this prompt challenge is that there are no deadlines! If you want to be a Completionist or an Overachiever, you just have to have the prompts complete by August 31st!

Finished week 2 during week 5? Great!

Finished weeks 1-13 during week 13?? 😅 That works!

Q: Do I have to post/publish my prompt fills to be considered a participant/completionist/overachiever?

A: Nope! I know not to everyone feels comfortable sharing their work, and that’s totally fine!

You don’t have to post/publish a single thing to qualify. At the end of the challenge, I’ll link a form for anyone who participated to fill out. This is all based on the honor system…so if you say you completed “such and such”…I’ll take your word for it 😊 If you want, you can still be given a shout out for whatever level of participation you said you completed. Just let me know!

Q: Can I combine prompts?

A: Yes! Mash up those prompts and make a custom, super prompt if your heart so desires!

Q: But can I combine prompts with other challenges?

A: Absolutely! If the other challenge allows it, feel free to combine Summer of Bad Batch as you see fit ✨

Q: Can I apply prompts to works I've already completed/posted?

A: Prompts should not be applied to already completed works.

But if you have a WIP that's been gathering dust that would fit the occasion, that would be fine!

Have a story that you're adding chapters to? You can apply prompts to new chapters! That's fine too!

Q: Will there be a complete prompt list available?

A: Not until after the event, since prompts will be posted weekly 😘

Q: Can I use the prompts even after the event has ended?

A: Absolutely!

You didn’t find your question here?? Send me an ask, I’d be happy to help!

[philokaliist]

'Fire'

Clarisse La Rue with a girlfriend who's similar to her hc's! 💋

A/N:MADE FOR MY FRIEND BC SHE'S LITERALLY LIKE AN ANGRY CHIHUAHUA BUT I STILL LOVE HERRR

So Clarisse would totally be into someone with an even worse temper than hers,like they'd have epic shouting matches that end in intense make-out sessions most of the time.

I feel like she would constantly challenge you to sparring matches, pushing each other to the limits just to prove who's the ultimate warrior. Like, "Come on,pretty thing, let's see what you've got!"

But picture this: she LOVES it when you share battle strategies with her, even if you disagree. It's like, "Yeah, yeah, your plan's trash,but I like the fire in your eyes."

I feel like she would steal your fries at the campfire and then pretend like nothing happened. And if you confront her, she'd just smirk and say, "Survival of the fittest,babe."

Clarisse is totally the type to challenge you to a duel over the smallest things, like who gets the last chocolate chip cookie. It's all in good fun, though – a way to keep the relationship spicy.

She deff has a secret stash of soft, romantic poetry hidden somewhere, and she'll deny it vehemently if you ever find out. But deep down, she loves that you appreciate her softer side.

Imagine her dragging you into impromptu late-night training sessions, demanding you prove your strength at the most inconvenient times. "A true warrior never rests,mamas."

She LOVES it when you compliment her battle scars, seeing them as badges of honor. It's like her version of sweet talk, and she'll proudly recount the stories behind each scar.

I feel like she would secretly enjoy cuddling after a tough day, pretending she's just doing it to help you relax. But truthfully, she craves those quiet moments of intimacy.

HEAR ME OUT,so she would totally write you cheesy love letters but hide them under the guise of strategic notes. It's like, "This battle plan is foolproof, just like my love for you."

Imagine her getting jealous when other demigods stare at you, but she'd never admit it. Instead, she'd just wrap her arm around you possessively and shoot them a death glare.

She deff has a soft spot for your cooking, even if she insists on calling it "acceptable" or "not terrible." But deep down, she appreciates the effort you put into making meals for her.

I feel like she would have a secret collection of cute, heartwarming animal videos that she watches when no one's around. It's her guilty pleasure, and she'd deny it vehemently if caught.

Imagine her surprising you with impromptu adventures outside of camp, like a spontaneous road trip or a daring quest. She'd act all tough, but it's her way of showing she values shared experiences.

So she would absolutely love it when you challenge her authority, whether it's in battle or decision-making. It's like a constant power struggle that keeps things exciting.

I also feel like she would lowkey enjoy participating in camp pranks with you, reveling in the chaos and mischief. It's her way of letting loose and embracing the lighter side of life.

She LOVES it when you challenge her to a friendly competition, whether it's archery or a climbing race. It's like, "Winner gets bragging rights for a week!"

She deff calls you out on your anger issues, but in that tough-love way that only Clarisse can pull off. It's like, "Princess,chill before you burn the whole camp down!"

Honestly,she would low-key love the fact that you can match her in the anger department.Like, "Finally, someone who gets it!" They're like the most chaotic duo of Camp Half-Blood.

A/N:Another quick drabble for this morning before I mentally kms from doing hw (p.s:I won't even open the book.)

[yallthemwitches]

Sticking the Landing

For @jilytoberfest Day 30: 🎶"where's the trophy? he just comes running over to me"🎶 - The Alchemy by Taylor Swift

I originally wrote just a little snippet pre jilytober but now it’s the longest fic of the collection!

AO3 Here

It lasts only seconds. The shock in her eyes, the warm feel of her arms wrapping around his neck, holding on as he bears all her weight. She makes a little shriek as her feet lift off the ground and momentum spins them together. As far as he is concerned, it is the greatest sound she has ever made.

But the air has to rush back into the world eventually. The minute she touches back down, her brow furrows, eyes darting towards the other side of the pitch where Sawyer stands. The bloke she’s dating stands.

Should I expect to see you in the Gryffindor stands or are you a traitor?

He had wedged the note inside her history of magic textbook. He turns around and waits, watching as her hand grazes the piece of parchment and her lips turn upwards.

Not sure, where does Switzerland sit?

It floats back to him under the table and he catches it without hesitation, not looking away from a droning Professor Binns.

I reckon somewhere in the Beaux Batons stadium.

She can’t help but chuckle at the snarkiness of it. Beside her, Sawyer makes a loud yawn, using his stretch as an excuse to lay his arm around her shoulders. All of the sudden every quippy response she thinks to write back crumbles to dust.

“Godric, this is boring. Should be illegal to have classes before a game.” She doesn’t respond to Sawyer because she knows he doesn’t actually expect one. She tries to focus on class again, and sees out of the corner of her eye James turning around, anticipating a response. With one look at Sawyer’s dangling hand, he whips back around, shoulders now stiff and set.

*******

“Woah, no way Evans. No double agent’s sitting with us on my watch.”

“Bug off, Black.” Lily sidles a little closer to Remus who shoots his mate an annoyed look.

“Er Lily, if your boyfriend is on the other team—does that mean that this is a win-win situation for you?” Peter wheedles out, looking like he’s trying to do a particularly difficult arithmancy equation. Sirius guffaws and slaps him on the back, making him give a sheepish, pink smile.

“Right you are Wormy–I guess you could say that Evans plays for both teams—Ouch!”

Remus leans over behind Lily and pulls hard on Sirius’ earring. “Stop embarrassing me.”

Sirius whimpers like a puppy and Lily can’t help but laugh. She feels bad to not sit over with Sawyer's mates in Hufflepuff, but their relationship is still new and she doesn’t know many of his friends well enough. Besides, she can’t help that the Gryffindor box is vastly more entertaining. Even before she became mates with the marauders, the boys would make a big spectacle, crooning and screaming fabricated songs, trying to get the crowd to participate in wildly ridiculous cheers— it almost made it easy to forget that there was a game going on—almost.

“Alright Evans?”

A tuft of black hair rises up from the bannister, James already on his broom and hovering up to the stands. His new captain’s uniform fits him nicely—the gold plating of his badge bringing out the flecks of honey in his eyes.

“Oi! Prongs! Where’s my good luck kiss?” Sirius starts to make wet kissing noises and Peter grabs his stomach laughing.

James smiles at his friend but his eyes remain on Lily. After years of fighting it, she is willing to admit that she likes him like this: hair actually wind blown instead of a fabricated attempt, mouth permanently set in a wide grin, eyes alight with excitement and zeal—the tight uniforms doesn’t hurt either.

“Thought you’d be sitting with the yellows.”

“Nah, figured someone needed to keep the peanut gallery in check.” Lily nods over to the boys, Sirius now lurching in an attempt to kiss Remus’ ear.

“How noble of you, a real martyr,” James winks, starting to float back to the middle of the pitch. It does something jarring to her heart. “But really–glad to see you here.”

He flies away, the words good luck sitting like a lump in her throat.

*******

THIS IS A NAIL BITER FOLKS—SAWYER DAWSON PASSES THE QUAFFLE TO AMELIA JENKINS. THE HUFFLEPUFFS ARE REALLY PLAYING WITH THE SKIN OF THEIR TEETH HERE. BUT WAIT, JAMES POTTER OF GRYFFINDOR SWOOPS IN, HE’S INTERCEPTED THE PLAY. YOU CAN TELL HE’S GOT THIS ONE IN THE BAG—MAYBE GETTING A LITTLE TOO COCKY WITH THOSE FLIPS…

THIS IS THE MOMENT OF TRUTH TO END THIS HELLISH TIE BREAKER—AH, JAMES POTTER SCORES!

James does a small victory lap around the side of the pitch, fist pumping into the air. They haven’t even won yet, but the Gryffindor stand is inconsolable, Sirius and Peter leading the crowd in a raucous chorus of We Will Rock You. Lily is infected by it, laughing and stomping along with the rest, only the glimpse of Sawyer panting and frustrated at the other end of the pitch makes her sober up.

James takes a pass by the stands and the crowd erupts in a roar ‘POTTER POTTER POTTER’. She doesn’t mean to join in, at least doesn’t consciously make the choice. Blame it on hive mentality.

The game continues, but this time there is a distinct energy shift in the Hufflepuff team. Sawyer is all offensive, making perilous moves to intercept the quaffle, barely scraping past as bludgers get aimed right for his chest.

He flies past the Gyffindor stands where Lily and all the rest are a deafening roar of team spirit, still chanting James’ name. He turns his head just enough for Lily to catch it, the twisted grimace of anger. It stops her cold.

*****

James couldn’t deny it, he felt good. It wasn’t even because they were winning, already climbing their score to the point where catching the snitch would turn into a formality. No, the real victory was the fleeting image of Lily, mouth wide open in jubilant revelry, chanting his name.

If he owned a pensive, it would be the first memory he would guard—it shouldn’t have mattered so much with the whole crowd cheering as well, but something about her flushed face, her stomping feet, her bursting voice—they could lose and he would be all the better for it.

The game kicks off again and James immediately swerves towards Hufflepuff chaser Brenda Alburn, eyes trying to juggle between following the quaffle and peeking back at the stands where Lily still watches. A sudden rush pulls beside him and Sawyer nearly clips his broom, turning around to give him a dark scowl.

It was odd for Sawyer who was usually a pretty level headed bloke. James ignores it, pushing forward towards the quaffle which is now meters ahead of him. He picks up speed, getting closer to intercept when he feels something coming in close.

He had no reason to double back but Sawyer is beside him again. As swift as flicking a wrist, he reaches out and yanks at James’ broom, sending it into a tailspin.

James feels a sickly upheaval in his stomach as he free falls, the world a blur of spinning color. Screams ring out from every corner of the pitch and he swears he can pinpoint one amongst the crowd—

It’s a gamble, a stupid, completely mental choice but he pushes himself off the broom, the world suddenly gaining clarity as the spinning ends. He has a zero second window to grab hold of his broom handle before it spins out of reach and he kicks his leg up, clipping on with his shin and the new pressure halts the broom's spiral.

The roar is deafening, mixing screams of amazement with cries of foul play, but it doesn’t matter: Gryffindor caught the snitch.

He feels nauseous, body heavy and begging to be horizontal, but he pulls himself right side up on his broom, already seeing the students from the Gryffindor stands leaking down onto the field, awaiting his descent.

Maybe it was the lingering vertigo, but it all happens too quick to digest in the moment. He feels his feet touch the soft earth. A roar of a crowd rushes around him, a blaze of red and gold like wildfire in an instant. She is there, but walking towards him or towards Sawyer he isn’t sure. His body moves on its own, quickening his pace before he can even stop to think about the consequences. A smile on her face, a smile like all the ones he’s savored from her since they had become mates.

He doesn’t need to make a decision, it is already made. He can blame it on the near death experience later. He picks up Lily and swings her in his arms.

It lasts only seconds. The shock in her eyes, the warm feel of her arms wrapping around his neck, holding on as he bears all her weight. She makes a little shriek as her feet lift off the ground and momentum spins them together. As far as he is concerned, it is the greatest sound she has ever made.

But the air has to rush back into the world eventually. The minute she touches back down, her brow furrows, eyes darting towards the other side of the pitch where Sawyer stands. The bloke she’s dating stands.

“I-I’ve got to go..I’m glad you're alright.”

He wants to address the fear that he can hear stuck in her voice, but she pulls her arms away, fingers sliding on his shoulders as she goes.

******

“Godric, Lily is so lucky. What I’d do to have the two fittest boys in school making a scene over me like that—“

“But who can blame him? Did you see how she screamed when Potter took the nose dive? She looked about ready to throw herself from the stands.”

Its hard to ignore because it’s all everyone wants to talk about. He wants to be the better person (“A game is a game—it was an honest accident—Sawyers a good bloke.”) but even his words hang hollow in the air because he knew the look on Sawyer's face too well—a look of pure jealousy.

“If it wasn’t his last year, I’d lobby to ban him—break his broom and watch as he cries..” Sirius slurs out, putting an arm around James’ shoulders.

“But hey, silver lining! Our lovely Evans was in rare form by your little tumble. I swear there were tears in her eyes.”

“Not helping Sirius.”

He wishes it would help though, because hearing Lily invested in his well being feels like a bigger win than the cup. But that doesn’t take away from the fact that she is not there—

A hush rolls over the crowd as the portrait hole swings open. Lily walks in with deliberate steps. She’s not an idiot, she knows they have all been talking about her. Not making eye contact she beelines her way to the drink table, ignoring as whispers follow her through the room.

He can tell she’s been crying—not in the way Sirius described but really crying. On one hand he wants to console her, apologize for whatever he has stirred up in Sawyer, but on the other everyone is watching. Him approaching her would just cause more uproar.

She pours herself a drink and takes a long swig before refilling it again. Turning from the table she doesn’t even wait to acknowledge anyone, just walks with her shoulders back up the steps to the dorm.

“You need to talk to her.” Remus says beside him like a voice of reason.

“Get your cloak and go up there—just for fuckssake make sure no one bloody sees you.”

Filling a new drink, he mounts the steps and finds the door slightly ajar. He’s never seen the inside of the girl’s dorm before but it’s much more put together than the boys’, records and books neatly stacked around well made four-poster beds. The record player garbles out some faintly familiar tune as Lily reclines with her eyes closed, drink still clutched in hand.

“Alright, Evans?”

She doesn’t open her eyes, but he knows she’s awake. He opens the door a bit farther but doesn’t dare to enter without permission.

“ I thought you might want a refill.” He half heartedly holds out the drink and she cracks an eye open.

“Ok Potter, price of entry granted.”

He takes a few hesitant steps in, standing in the middle of the circular space. He can’t help but feel like he’s crossing a barrier, like some infectious disease in a host body.

“Look, I just wanted to apologize,” he murmurs, unsure of how to proceed. Lily straightens up, eyes now open with suprise.

“For what?”

“I don’t know—“ he meanders, “I guess I just can’t help feeling like I didn’t something. Like this is my fault.”

“James, you could have died. Or have been easily incapacitated for the unforeseeable future. Sawyer had no right—.”

“It could’ve been an honest—“

“No, James. It wasn’t—and besides he told me.”

James feels his stomach drop in a way reminiscent of his earlier fall. “Oh.”

Lily sits up and swings her legs to hang over the side of the bed.

“I owe you an apology. It’s my fault anyhow.”

“I’m not following.”

Her eyes go suddenly glassy, the bloodshot streaks becoming more prominent as tears threaten to spill over again.

“Please don’t make me say it,” she bites out.

“Evans, I’m being serious I don’t—“

“I fancy you, ok! I fancy you and—Sawyer could tell. Unlike us he’s not a complete fool.”

She starts to say how this doesn’t excuse his behavior or that what happened at the game was warranted but James doesn’t hear it. His heartbeat is defeating, his whole body becoming red and feverish. The whole world starts to spin again but her, the clear stable focal point to everything.

He crosses the few steps it takes to be next to her and she stands up with a start, confused by his sudden energy.

“Does Sawyer—“ he lets it teeters off, knowing his question is clear.

“Let’s just say, Sawyer isn’t going to make the cut.” She snorts bitterly, eyes looking at her feet. “I should have ended it ages ago honestly.”

Maybe it’s because his body is still in shock from it all, but he lets his instincts take over, all propriety lost.

“Will you let me hug you? I would really like to hug you.”

She gives a tearful laugh and opens her arms in weak approval. He doesn’t hesitate, wrapping his arms firmly around her waist and pulling her in. This close she smells like roses and the salt of her tears.

“I’m glad you’re ok James.” Hesitant, she reaches her arms up to clasp around his shoulders, before pulling herself closer, burying her face into his Jersey.

“Who me?” He exclaims in mock shock. “Hell, I’ve never been better.”

[spiders-hth-is-an-outlier]

I'm sure he's not the first in history, but for me definitely, the reason Fox Mulder was such a revelation is that I'd never seen a character before who seemed totally conscious of masculinity as a performance, while also being pretty good at that performance.

Like, we kid, but Mulder is doing pretty well, as a man! He's got a badge and a gun, prestigious credentials and a bunch of sharp-ass suits. He's smart, he's funny, he's hot, he's not primarily a fighter, but he can fight when he has to. If there's a fairly straightforward, down-the-line Socially Acceptable way to be a (rich white) man in the 1990s, Mulder is basically ticking all the boxes correctly.

What's cool about him -- and I personally think this is what Duchovny specifically, a known weirdo, brings to the character -- is that Mulder's subjective internal experience of the world is that he's a weirdo. He knows that. In his head, he's preoccupied with this wild psychodrama of his guilt and his paranoia. He lives kind of like a weirdo, when he's not on the clock. He seems to like and trust weirdos. He's pretty introverted and he has a weird, bleak sense of humor.

The feeling I always got about Mulder is that he knows he's ticking boxes. He wakes up every day conscious of the fact that he has a job to keep and he has to Act Normal, so he does things like get his suits tailored and work out and he's clearly playing a role, and he's only as invested in that role as he judges he'll benefit from. He doesn't actually give a shit personally, except that he needs people to tolerate him to a certain degree in order to be functional in the world.

I think he's so appealing to me because he was the first character I ever saw who seemed to be self-consciously participating in the game of Being a High-Value Man (before that specific lingo was coined), while clearly viewing the game as a useful absurdity. He's literally putting on and taking off his Patriarchal Authority Figure drag, for his own purposes, and that's a big chunk of what I've always loved about him.

[worldume]

introducing the Bofurin Summer Camp HUB! 🏕️

do you wanna connect with others in the wind breaker fandom? this server combines the best of all worlds—networking, fandom, and roleplay all in one community! drama free, good vibes and cute boys who like to fight!

what can you expect?

🛶 fan club: join us in celebrating everything wind breaker! from episode discussions and watch parties to simping over your fave boyfies! wind breaker is still a growing fandom and it would be so fun to have everyone connect here in one place!

🥾 roleplay: the admins and mods have a special affinity for role playing so it’s only natural that this community will have a special feature that allows everyone in the community to interact with their favorite characters and have the opportunity to participate in fun storylines in a group setting and one on one! you totally do not have to be experienced in role play at all to be able to join!

🗺️ network: connect with other writers and artists for more traction and support! make new friends! summer camp has more of a laid back vibe ever since umemiya became the head counselor! so there’s no need to go through strenuous activities and extra work to still be apart of the community.

is there anything that can disqualify someone from joining the server?

💬 short answer: yes.

but! there’s only two dealbreakers: minors are prohibited in this space. admins will be undergoing age verification.

and this space will interact with and support dark content so if that’s something you’re against then this isn’t the space for you! you will have the ability to sign up for the dark content role, this is completely optional though. so you do have the choice to be omitted from the channel but, we cannot guarantee members won’t see a conversation slip in passing in another channel. slip ups happen!

how can I join?

you join here by clicking join now below! don’t forget to file a ticket for your age verification! we understand life happens so you’ll have 24 hours to get it sent in!

���� summer camp registration.

how can I be a mod or admin?

you can fill out an application to be a mod or admin down below! :)

🔗 camp counselor application.

anything else I should know?

yes! its only right to have a uniform, right? so upon acceptance into the hub, you should state in your pinned (if applicable) that you’re a member of the hub! as a camper, counselor, maybe you’re alumni! wear that badge proudly just like the furin boys do!

[e-dubbc11]

Hello my darling Annie!

I love this gif! Thank you for participating in my celebration and sending in your asks, I really appreciate you as a friend. I hope you like what I did here. Thank you again for reading and sharing my fics, it really warms my heart ♥️

I didn’t know if you wanted this for Brock or Leo so I just went with Brock, I hope that’s ok ♥️

Glasses

Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google.

Pairing: Brock Rumlow x F! Reader

Warnings: SMUT! (18+ Please! Or else I’m telling!) swear words, little bit of angst, and fluff

Word Count: 1.6K-ish

Summary: You’re introduced to a co-worker by literally bumping into him. He wasn’t very nice to you but you noticed he can’t seem to stay away either.

As always, thank you for reading!  I appreciate it so much and comments, reblogs are welcome and encouraged. Don’t be shy to tell me your favorite part. 💕💕 💕

The gentle knocks on your door caused you to look up from the pages of your book and set your cup of tea and your glasses on the end table next to you. One side of your mouth curled into a slight smile as you walked over to the door to let him in.

Brock always knew you were awake if the dim light from the living room lamp was glowing in the window. You were getting used to these late night visits but the first time it happened was a complete surprise.

Both of you worked for SHIELD but he was the field agent, a leader and you were just a technical aide that worked for the Statistics division. You knew him to have a very tough exterior, he was gruff, and bold which was very apparent when you literally crashed into him on your way into work one morning and he snapped at you.

“Maybe you need new glasses, sweetheart! Eyes up next time, Missssss…” He pinched your badge in between his thick calloused fingers so he could read it. “Miss y/l/n.”

His voice was firm, raspy, and…incredibly sexy.

After that encounter, you’d catch him on the floor where you worked a number of times. He must have not only noticed your name on your badge but also the department you worked in. He had no reason to be there, he was a field agent, why was he wandering around the Statistics floor, and why did he watch your every move?

“Have a drink with me.” His voice commanded.

Brock managed to sneak up and sit next to you while you were reading on your lunch break.

Not even looking up from the page, you had replied, “You’re not my boss, Rumlow. You can’t tell me what to do.” You stole a glance at him before pushing your glasses up the bridge of your nose and returning your gaze back to your book. “Maybe if you ask nicely.”

“Have a drink with me…please.” He asked sheepishly.

Again, not looking up from your book, you lightheartedly replied, “Ok.”

After agreeing on a time and place, he started to walk away before turning around and asking, “You know who I am?” Remembering you called him by his last name a few minutes prior.

This time you lowered your book to look at him over your glasses and with a sly smile replied, “Everyone knows who you are…Brock.”

He walked away trying to hide the smile you put on his face.

**********

You purposely showed up a little late to make him wait for you, then ordered and took a shot of tequila, thanked him and walked away. Brock’s eyes never left your backside as he watched you walk out of that bar, loving and hating the fact you made him look like a fool. You may look like a shy little book nerd but he didn’t know who he had messed with snapping at you the way he did.

Later on that night was when you got that first set of knocks on your front door. Confused and surprised by someone knocking on your door late at night, you got up from the couch to investigate. Looking through the peephole, you saw Brock leaning against your doorframe, waiting patiently for you to open the door.

“You left me lookin’ like an asshole, doll! Open the door, I know you’re there.” He said.

Glaring at him from the other side of the door, you flung the door open and said, “You said it, I didn’t. What are you doin’ here, Rumlow? And how do you know where I live?!”

Brushing the stubble on his cheeks, he continued to look down before slowly bringing his gaze up to meet yours. Brock’s eyes reminded you of the gold you would see in a summer sunset or the color of Tennessee honey whiskey. They were beautiful.

“The answer to your first question, sweetheart, is I asked you out for a drink so I could apologize for snappin’ at ya the first time we met. I didn’t wanna admit that maybe I wasn’t lookin’ where I was goin’. I’m sure you don’t need new glasses. And the answer to question number two is, we work for SHIELD, ya think I can’t find out where people live?” He said softly.

Brock wasn’t trying to turn you on, he really was just trying to apologize, but he was sexy, irresistible, and had you clenching your thighs together so tightly, that you thought you might fall over.

Biting down on your lower lip, you let him continue.

“So if ya didn’t drink and run like ya did, I could have apologized proper—“ He said before you cut him off.

Pulling him inside by his jacket, his lips were on yours as fast as the door slammed shut, his thick fingers tangled in your hair and his teeth nipped at your jawline and down your neck. You started removing each other’s clothes and haphazardly tossed them onto the floor, making your way toward the bedroom.

Brock “apologized” over and over again that night. He did it with his talented fingers, with his tongue, and with his cock. His apologies didn’t stop until your vision had gone white, until your voice cracked, and until your knees quivered when you tried to stand up. His kisses were hungry and demanding, and the desire burning behind his amber eyes matched the craving you had for him.

The cries of passion he pulled from you left you breathless and he was insistent on leaving you without a voice. Your sinful moans turned him on, made him completely feral, and the pleasure he gave you crashed over you in waves.

Brock Rumlow was definitely the animal in bed just like you thought he would be.

Shaking from overstimulation, you managed to say, “All I was really looking for was an ‘I’m sorry,‘ Brock.”

He pinched your side and lightly bit down on your bare shoulder while trying to hold in a chuckle. The STRIKE team leader that most people were afraid of had a soft spot and that soft spot was for you.

“I can see your pretty eyes better without your glasses.” He had said.

You replied, “Well…I don’t need to wear them ALL the time.”

And now here he was again gently knocking at your door, looking sexy as fuck in his black leather jacket, and silently begging for a piece of the fruit he’s tasted so many times in the past few months.

The way his hands confidently roamed over you, it was always a surprise where they would go next. Would he pin your wrists above your head so he could fuck you deep into the mattress, or let you climb on top so he could firmly press his fingers into your hips as you rolled them over his? You loved to watch his teeth bite down onto his lower lip as you rode him before pulling him in close, grasping at his muscular shoulders and back to feel him hit that sweet spot deep inside you.

With his movements becoming faster and more erratic, you knew he was close as your walls were tightening around him, your pussy so wet that he slid in and out of you with ease before drenching his dick with your release and he chased his own orgasm.

And no one knew. At work, no one knew the leader of the STRIKE team spent his down time with you, the slightly nerdy girl from Statistics, and that he worked tirelessly to make you come as many times as possible, in as many different positions as possible, on every single flat surface he could find, and wanting to hear you scream so loudly, you would wake the neighbors. You didn’t care if they did know but maybe he did; however, you were too nervous to ask him.

You didn’t ask because no one made you feel like this and you didn’t want it to go away.

In the faint light of your bedroom, you watched him put on his gray t-shirt, his muscles tight like piano wire, and his eyes wide with worry. As the shirt drifted down his toned torso, you wondered what he was thinking about, and why did he have that look of worry on his face?

Wrapped up in the bedsheet, you continued to stare with a wicked smile on your face, and he smiled back before saying, “Had a bit of a rough day today, doll.”

Propping your head up with your hand, your smile disappeared and asked, “You wanna talk about it?”

“I didn’t know if we were doin’ that kinda stuff, sweetheart.” Said Brock.

Patting the spot next to you on the bed, you replied, “We can if you want to, Rumlow. Have a seat, tiger.”

Brock smirked and climbed on top of you until you were flat on your back, your hands traveled up his arms and landed around his neck.

“Can I take you out on a date?” He asked. His voice was extra scratchy from the workout he gave it a little while ago.

You slid your fingers through his dark brown hair and asked with a wide smile and sarcasm dripping from your voice, “Oh you wanna be seen with me? What will people think, Brock?”

“Well, I want everyone to see that I have the prettiest girl…with or without her glasses.” He said with a wink just before he claimed your lips with a gentle kiss.

You felt warmth rise to your cheeks, the man made you blush…hard, and you had to finally admit to yourself that you were smitten with him.

“I’ll go out with you, Brock. Now kiss me and tell me all about your bad day, maybe I can make it better.” You said with a warm smile.

He pinched your chin in between his forefinger and thumb and replied, “You always do, sweetheart.”

Tag List: @munsonownsmyass @gijos @k-marzolf @nutmeg17 @nekoannie-chan

Others that might enjoy: @itwasthereaminuteago @fluffyprettykitty @randomlittleimp

If I tagged you and you didn’t want to be, just let me know and I’ll never do it again. As always, thank you again for reading!

[stusbunker]

Spotless: Cambiare

Chapter Thirty Five

Featuring: Dean Winchester/Reader

Other characters: Both bands and crew, Madison, Alice and Max Miller, Cas' brother Jimmy mentioned, Alastair

Word Count: 3241

Warnings, etc: Mutual pining, still unbeta'd, drinking and mild drug use, smoking cigarettes , Kevin is still a shit and we love him for it, fundraiser fluff, first show in Vegas then somebody shows up to ruin Dean's winning streak. SAFE House is a real organization, but all information about them in this fic is fictional, including locations, organizers and fundraiser protocols.

Series Masterlist

The desert sun shined down, even in mid-March, you were grateful for sunglasses as you walked across the parking lot of the furniture store that was hosting the fundraiser. Part of the core principles of SAFE House and organizations like it was its discretion, so nothing that night was taking place near the actual houses where families escaping domestic violence resided. The main office was tucked into a back corner of a row of single story businesses and also a good distance away.

Behind you was the band in ball caps and sunglasses, Bobby and Annie, while Benny, Cesar, Jesse and Chief followed behind. Charlie and the rest of the crew were setting up at the venue for the following nights’ performances. Victor and SPS had other plans for the night before their Vegas debut, but that was understandable. Plus, they sent their support both in person and via social media.

Alice Miller, the Director of Outreach, met you at the registration booth and gave you a bundle of volunteer badges and tickets for the food stands as well as a map of the grounds. 

“We are so grateful for you being here and helping spread the word. We’ve barely been able to get away from the phones since you mentioned the event on the radio this morning. We’re expecting a record breaking year for the carnival.”

Careful to not seem too unsurprised, you downplayed what you expected to be a very busy night. “It’s the least we could do. Now— where did you want the band?”

“Max?” Alice called a younger man over. “Max is my stepson, and he’s in charge of volunteer assignments. While I’ll be around, Max will be able to answer any questions better than I would.”

The guy seemed a little awkward, but he also seemed to at least recognize who he was talking to. “Alright, guys, glad to have you. I have the band assigned two two hour long stints at the Dunk Tank, the Photo Booth, and the Face Painting stand. Your call on if you stick to one station or switch it up. I’ll leave the list with your publicist. Breaks are expected, but please let somebody know when you need one so we can make the swap as seamless as possible. Your team members are welcome to participate, or just stand guard, but please remember we are as low contact as possible with crowd control.”

You had clocked a good chunk of guys you suspected to be plain clothed police officers donning security vests at the next table. You kept your thoughts to yourself on that matter, as long as the families and participants were safe, you were happy.

“Thanks, Max. I gave them the spiel on the ride over. Can we get some group shots with you and the other employees before we get into our stations?”

“Of course, give me ten minutes and we can get everyone together. I’ll give you a walkie, too, just in case. Though we don’t have enough for everyone.”

“Understood.”

You gave him a firm nod and clipped the communicator to your back pocket. He ducked out of the small tent, while you stepped back towards the group you came with, so the line of other volunteers behind you could get signed in. You glanced down the clipboard with the empty blocks of scheduled time at each of the stations. 

Kevin and Dean were on you in an instant.

“Please put me anywhere but the face painting. I can’t draw for shit,” Kevin begged.

“Sam either, don’t do it, Trouble. It will be a mess,” Dean warned.

“Okay, well, Dunk Tank is going to have to be an all or last stint because nobody is going to be able to pose for pictures or do face-painting when they’re soaked to the bone,” you reasoned out loud.

You turned and spoke louder. “Alright, Pam and Annie, let’s have you do the face painting. If nothing else you can just do exaggerated makeup looks.”

“Sounds good to me,” Annie said. While Pam sort of cocked her head and considered if this was the best course of action.

“Lee and Sam are getting the Photobooth first, if you get bored or overwhelmed we’ll swap you guys for the Dunk Tank. But what we really need are hecklers, and I think these two assholes would be best for the job.” You gestured to Dean and Kevin, the two devils over your shoulders.

“You know there are easier ways to see me with my shirt off,” Dean murmured, but didn’t argue with his assignment.

You turned and looked up at him, your reflection shining back at you in his sunglasses, which only made you more defensive. “If I wanted to sell skin, I’d send Sam over there first. But just for that, you’re booked all night. Happy chafing, Dean-o.”

Kevin cackled. “She just pwned you so bad!”

“Shut up, Kevin,” you and Dean said at the same time.

You tried to see if Dean had just been teasing, but your annoyance and curiosity were short lived when Bobby walked up and took the envelope of lanyards out of your grip, and started handing them out.

Somewhere beyond the entrance and registration booths a megaphone sounded, gathering everyone together for the pictures you requested and a quick information session.

The carnival was scheduled from four to nine, hitting the afterschool and afterwork crowds, but still reasonable for a weekday. Even in Vegas, locals had normal schedules most of the time. You took turns with the SAFE House’s media director taking pictures and gesturing people into position. Carefully you had them frame the band, Annie, Alice and the rest of the board in varying shots of size and distance. You should have brought a real camera, but your phone would have to make due for this event. There were over fifty people volunteering in addition to the security team. And every one of them was smiling at you, it was infectious.

It was going to be a good night.

You patrolled the grounds, gathering pictures of the band at their different booths in various poses and levels of embarrassment. Dean was the first one in the water and once he sunk, the crowd went nuts. His line snaked around the Fun House and back towards the Port-o-Potties. 

Kevin had more success heckling Dean than those throwing at his target, but he, too, was drenched before long. It only added to the care-free atmosphere. Even though you knew Dean would have paid a pretty penny to be the one tossing balls in Kevin’s direction himself.

Sam and Lee started off pretty stiff with the Photo Booth, but once a group of preschoolers busted out the feather boas and other accessories, they caved like a house of cards. Neither man could deny kids, especially ones that might have been hurt at some point in their young lives, so they turned up the charm and silliness and had everyone in stitches before they took their dinner break.

Pamela and Annie had the quietest station. It was rather amusing, and a little surreal, that round after round of kids waited in line, picked out their designs, and sat still for the whole process before their parents, guardians, or grandparents recognized Annie Hawkins as the artist behind the butterflies or dragons now at their sides.

Pamela’s entire being screamed rockstar or badass. But as the drummer of the band, she was the least known by name, which never seemed to bother her. No, her confidence was unique in that it was a genuine, god-given, lack of shame. Something you had envied for a long time. So when only a handful of people asked for her picture along with her creations, she didn’t bat an eye. She just winked at the kids as they went about their nights and waved.

By nightfall, the crowd had reached capacity. The sounds of the various rides and games were constant and the bright lights kept the area surveyable. However, the temperature started to drop and the Dunk Tanks themselves weren’t well lit, which equated to Kevin and Dean’s station beginning to lose some of its luster. 

“Okay! Let’s see what you got! Come on folks— this is for a great cause!” Kevin spouted.

“Freezing my nuts off of here! Hey big guy, think you could dunk me?”

You stage whispered, “this is a family event— keep your flirting to your own time!”

“Har-har!” Dean mock laughed.

You took another picture, but your flash really wasn’t the best with the Fun House lights offsetting it. Dean was dunked again and you asked Max over the walkie if you could end the line. It was a little after eight at night and between the cooler night air and the remaining people waiting, they deserved to see the finish line. 

After a few seconds, you got permission to send Benny and Jesse to curtail new customers, “yeah, okay. We’ll start closing up those stations first, ease out of the night.”

You texted Bobby to start warming up the bus before making your way through the crowd to let the rest of the team know to wrap it up. Sam and Lee actually were already closed up, their tent had been packed up and they just sat sipping on flat beer from the one kiosk with a liquor license. Annie and Pamela had turned into more of a selfie and autograph booth then a face painting stand, but no one seemed to mind. 

“We’ve got the all clear, meet at the bus in ten,” you let them know. Casually, you headed back to the Dunk Tanks to ensure the soggy bottom boys weren’t mobbed once they were back on solid ground.

Cesar, brilliant man that he was, showed up with a pair of fleece blankets from the bus just as the final set of balls were handed to Benny and Jesse. You grinned at him in gratitude, but had to film the final dunks for prosperity’s sake. 

“Come on Benny! Let ‘im have it!” you bellowed as the head roadie wound up.

Jesse immediately sent Kevin into the depths, forfeiting the remaining two throws, and letting his husband help the smaller man off the platform and into a blanket.

Benny missed the first two balls, which Dean was not going to let him live it down. “Oh, he’s on the ropes! Look he’s not gonna make it, I should just climb down. That blanket is a-calling to me!”

“Just shut your trap, will ya?” Benny muttered.

“Make me, big boy!”

“Does he always flirt when he’s nervous?” you asked, knowing full well it was being recorded.

“Nah, darlin’. He’s showboating. He only flirts like this to make up for something.”

“Oh yeah? What am I making up for Benny? Cuz your aim is the only thing lacking here!”

With movie magic precision, Benny sank Dean on his last throw. The remaining crowd erupted and you scanned the area before sneaking closer to get Dean’s grumpy face as he crawled out of the tank and down the ladder.

“About time!” He called over his shoulder before Cesar could wrap him up too. Crouched over and shivering, Dean grinned for the camera before you hit the stop button on the video. Everyone laughed and joked while Dean and Kevin tried to dry off. After gathering their hats, phones, wallets, and socks and shoes, everyone left for the parking lot and the bus back to the Strip and the hotel.

You stopped at the entrance, dropped off the walkie talkie and your lanyards with Max’s crew. You made your way across the parking lot to the corner that Bobby had claimed for the bus, turning on your notifications for the first time all night. It was going to be a long night of scrolling and posting, but it was a good kind of busy to be.

The bass pulsed through the amps and across the floor, like an omniscient earthquake. You felt the heat from the stage effects across your skin. Pamela was taking the end of A Reaper’s Offering and taking over for her solo. The lights dimmed along the edge of the stage and everything focused on her. You felt the buzz of an incoming message on your hip from the walkie, but you couldn’t hear a single word.

“There she goes!” Dean rumbled somewhere amongst the shadows. The crowd responded then hushed itself just as quickly, awe-inspired.

Charlie has so much more at her disposal in this set up and she used everything she could to empathize the epicness of Pamela’s prowess, each drum was focused by its own color light. Pamela kept Charlie on her toes as she hopped from one to another, sometimes hitting three or four at a time. It was mesmerizing.

Your voice was hoarse already and still you screamed as she ramped it up to the big finale. Even in the wing off stage, you couldn’t hear yourself over the racing beat.

Lee whistled with two fingers in his mouth, shrill and celebratory. And still Pamela rocked on.

Sam slid down his E string, pulsing beneath her. You noticed how the others drifted back into position, four more measures and Kevin joined in. As the notes blended together Pamela pulled back, like a band of horses behind well-worn reins. 

“Lead the way, Pammy!” Dean broke the spell and Pamela thumped into a familiar opening.

They weren’t stopping and slowing down for Vegas. ‘Abandon All Hope’ was left out of the first night’s setlist and the suggestive ‘Twigs and Twine’ swapped in instead. If you had to bet, ‘Brother’s Keeper’ wasn’t going to be featured either. And you were right, instead they played ‘Give Me My Ax’ for Lee to completely annihilate.

Charlie dropped the lights on them as Dean finished ‘Not Mine’ and the crowd did not stop for a full five minutes. You felt like you were tethered to a comet, soaring and burning alongside those brighter than you could ever hope to be.

The encores flew by and SPS joined them on stage, bowing and waving and blowing kisses to the insatiable masses. You knew the venue had photographers in the pit and along the box seats, but you couldn’t wait to get your hands on some fan shots. This was a show banners and websites were made of, raw and glistening.

Everyone descended the stage and flooded the wing you were occupying. The moment Dean’s eyes caught yours, his entire face changed and you both went to each other. Unthinking, two magnets across the mess of stagehands and band members just as he bent down to grab you into a hug, you hesitated, feeling unseen eyes in the upper levels.

You grabbed his elbow and drew him in further into the belly of backstage.

“What’s up?” Dean’s face was worried now.

“Nothing, just didn’t want somebody to see us.”

Dean’s brow pinched and he sighed, but stayed at your side. “How was it? Have fun?!”

You rolled your eyes. “I think I’m as sweaty as you are!”

“Well, I’m gonna hit the dressing room. If you need a shirt, I’ve got extra. Because there’s no way we’re stopping soon. Those high rollers ain’t seen nothing like the Winchesters in a hot minute.”

“Fine! But I’m capping you at 50k for the night, young man. Somebody has got to rein you in, especially since Jimmy isn’t on retainer anymore.”

“Ugh! Well, we’ll see about that.” Dean winked and threw his arm over your shoulder and walked you both to the pandemonium that was the dressing room.

You were very careful while out with the band to stay on the vertical side of inebriation. It was equal parts fear of embarrassing yourself and fear of losing control of one or more of the band. After Dean and Cas’ explosion in Chicago last spring, you rarely mixed substances, especially while somewhere as heavily monitored as Vegas.

A little No Doz and a side of vodka and tonic would carry you most of the night. If nothing got too crazy. Eventually, you’d snag a cigarette, but casino-hopping would have to wait. Dean was on a roll, literally.

Dice in theory was an easy game. The tables with all the Pass and Don’t Pass bet bullshit made Craps hard for you to follow, especially when you were too busy keeping an eye on everyone. Madison and Sam were getting handsy at a Blackjack Table. Pam had found her machine for the night and was racking up a nice total with just penny slots. While taking shots of whiskey in stunning regularity.

Lee and Dean were both rolling dice, but the tables faced the opposite direction and you were almost certain one or both of them were trying to hustle somebody. The house always won, but sometimes people got cocky and they thought these cornfed boys from Nebraska were easy prey. It was fun to watch.

If nerve wracking.

Dean’s eyes danced over his dice, everyone gathered held their breath as the dealer called out the victory. Dean jumped up, punched the air, and crowed with abandon. He was untouchable in his brilliance. It made something inside you shiver. Sometimes you forgot he was real.

“Alright, time to head out!” Dean decided, gathering his chips and heading to the teller line to cash out. You nodded to the rest of the band, with an annoyed eye roll from Pamela, but everyone followed suit. Benny and the Chief had drawn straws for that night’s detail, which meant Jesse and Cesar would have your backs the following night. It still felt weird to be Tiny and Bela-less, but it was also one less thing for you to keep track of.

The crowds outside of Cesar’s Palace were full of tourists as you stepped back out onto the strip. A rush of waiting photographers gravitated to your group the second Sam’s head cleared the exit. Fucking Sasquatch was too easy to spot.

“Guys! Fantastic show tonight!”

“Dean! Dean! Where’s Bela? What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, huh?”

“Pamela! Lee! Are you guys back together? Will we see another Vegas wedding from you two?”

“Sam! Who’s the lucky lady?”

Everyone ignored them the best you could, keeping your heads down and letting Benny hold them off.

“There he is! The coward has returned!” A nasally voice made its way through the chaos and Dean stopped in his tracks. You dropped back and tried to drag him forward, while ignoring the jeers from the other paps. 

“That’s a good girl, follow your mommy. Don’t want to get left behind,” the voice said senselessly.

“Dean?” you said, nerves dialed up to eleven.

Dean shook his head and scanned the crowd until he spotted a cameraless, beady-eyed face. “Benny! Keep that fucker away from us,” Dean yelled as he about-faced and took the group in a different direction. Benny fell back and stepped up to the taller creep, clearly making a point of starting a conversation as the other paps scrambled to keep up with you.

Dean dragged you and Pam by the wrists, keeping you at his sides until he decided you were in the clear outside the next stop. You had no idea who that guy was. After twenty minutes, Benny finally caught up with you guys and something in his eyes told you it wasn’t over.

Tagging:

@deans-spinster-witch

@mrswhozeewhatsis

@cosicas-cuquis

@fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like

@suckitands33

@ladysparkles78

@deans-baby-momma

@stoneyggirl2

@sassy-pelican

@leigh70

@globetrotter28

@winharry

@lastactiontricia

@rockhoochie

@brightlilith

@coldhearted93

@djs8891

@beautiful-places-blog

@n-o-p-e-never

@spxideyver

Chapter 36: Acciaccato