#as for the prompt itself i love it and i chose it specifically for my girlfriend because they really are a 'splendid' 'partner'

[silhouettecrow]

365 Days of Writing Prompts: Day 364

Adjective: Splendid

Noun: Partner

Definitions for those who need/want them:

Splendid: magnificent, or very impressive; (informal) excellent, or very good

Partner: either of a pair of people engaged together in the same activity; a person or group that takes part with another or others in doing something; any of a number of individuals with interests and investments in a business or enterprise, among whom expenses, profits, and losses are shared; either member of a married couple or of an established unmarried couple; a person with whom one has sex, or a lover; (dated) (dialect) a friendly form of address by one man to another

[ssahopelessly]

Gift Exchange

Synopsis: It’s the holidays at the BAU and that only means one thing - Secret Santa gift exchange.

Prompt: “Character only wanted to reveal that they are someone's Secret Santa at the BAU Christmas Party but they end up confessing a lot more than that.” from @imagining-in-the-margins Office Party challenge. {A.N. I did not see this prompt until AFTER I wrote this but close enough.}

Warnings: Spencer Reid x fem!reader, work-place crush, Secret Santa, Spencer is dumb and scared of his own feelings. It’s basic fluff. [let me know any I missed]

Word Count: 4.5k

Masterist

You had only been at the BAU for a few months when suddenly it was the end of November. Thankfully, there hadn’t been a case, so you were able to slip away for an extended weekend to relax and renew before the workload of the final month of the year. Derek had taken you under his wing in a way, and upon your December return, warned you that normally December was the unpredictable predictable month. “What does that even mean?” You had asked while walking into the roundtable room one Monday morning.

“Kid, the period between Thanksgiving and Christmas is notoriously crime ridden. People lose their minds between financial stress and familial stress, and- look, all I’m saying is don’t make any solid plans for the month of December.” With Derek sitting two seats to Spencer's left, you squeezed yourself into the space between them, careful not to bother Spencer’s personal space as you brought yourself closer to the edge of the table.

“What about New Years?” You had tried to ask him, running the potential for an end of the year getaway in your head.

“Actually,” It was natural Spencer cut in, never able to miss a chance to share the information he knew, “the month of December mostly sees crimes revolving around material and monetary gain, crimes like theft and larceny increasing by 20% according to the National Crime Victimization Survey. The summer is when studies show the most violent and heinous crimes occur, specifically on the hotter days.” Derek rolled his eyes, beginning to flip through the small collected pile of paperwork he had carried into the room with him.

“Good morning Spencer.” You chose to greet him, already feeling the easy joy that came from being in his presence.

“Good morning.” It was an effort to not notice the way his voice shrunk back in on itself as your knee accidentally bumped him under the table, not quite catching the side glance Derek was giving you both either.

Unbeknownst to you, there was a running pool in the office. Just a small wager of $50, Derek had bet Emily that Spencer wouldn’t make a move before the New Year. Emily, ever confident in Spencer, insisted Spencer would make some gesture if the proper environment had presented itself. They were both coming up empty handed against the running clock as it had been a few months and neither you nor Spencer seemed to want to push anything further than coworkers, maybe friends.

What they had somehow missed though, were the small lunch runs you two would do for the team, or the few times Spencer had lended you his coat in the colder states, or the way he stayed late in the office with you to help with paperwork. They had missed the moments alone with Spencer that had meant everything to you. Well everything, if having a crush on your coworker wasn’t completely unprofessional and if you also weren’t always surrounded by the people who should be able to read that truth out of you.

The rest of the team had filed in, Penelope the last one to enter, just behind Emily and JJ though. “Okay my lovelies, before I present your next adventure, a small side quest!” Penelope put her things down on the table before picking up a small gift bag, rattling its contents around to your confusion. She clocked it before you could say anything and motioning her hand underneath the bag, motioned to everyone around the table. “Secret Santa!” There was a small groan through the room that was then met with a stern glare from Penelope herself before she returned to presenting the festivity. “I’ll pass the bag around so you all can draw your people. The gift limit is $25 so, no pressure.” She passed the bag to Aaron who, without much ceremony, pulled his drawing out and quickly read it as he passed the bag to Derek. Derek however, closed the bag at its opening and shook the contents before drawing his pick, trying to keep any emotions from his face as he passed it to you.

“What happens if we draw ourselves?” You asked as your hand slipped into the bag and felt around the slips of paper.

“Then put it back, draw again.” Penelope offered as she watched you try to make your drawing. And you tried not to think too much about how you wanted to draw Spencer’s name. Surely if you had asked, he could give you the odds of that right now. But also, the longer you took, the more attention you were drawing to yourself and it was just a work gift exchange anyway, you could always find another time to give him a gift later. Your fingertips graced over one slip for the final time and pinching it between, you drew it out of the bag. Leaning back in the chair you opened it to see one name singularly scribbled in her favourite glitter gel pen: Penelope.

“Not me!” You cheered with minimal enthusiasm, passing the bag to Spencer. There was a slight tremble to your hand when your touch graced his, but you tried to ignore it as you slipped your pick into your work folder, trying to push the small let down from your mind.

“Can I request no home made gifts this year?” Rossi had asked from his spot across from Aaron, leaned back in his chair as the bag continued around the table.

“Are you talking about the homemade socks I got you last year?” Penelope whispered out, small upset hanging off her jutted bottom lip.

“The socks I helped her make last year?” Spencer chimed in with reflected upset. Dave looked like he regretted his request but persisted.

“Kids, look, I love the thought and effort that went into them but they’re not really my style. They were ithcy and- not all of us can show up to crime scene with silly socks and be taken seriously.” Spencer smiled and shrugged at the allusion to his fashion sense. Eventually the bag made it around the table and Penelope delivered her case, with Hotch giving the room the standard wheels up in 30 order, everyone quickly dispersing to collect their things for this new case.

As everyone made their way out of the room, you tried to linger in an attempt to talk to Spencer. “Who’d you get?” You asked when it was just you two in the room, keeping your voice low so only he could hear.

“What?” He hadn’t given you his full attention, mind focused on getting his things into his satchel precisely how he wanted them, a task you had seen a few times before.

“For Secret Santa?”

“Oh. I- I can’t tell you that.” His attention still didn’t fall to you as he closed his bag and started making his way down the few stairs to his desk. You stayed hot on his heels, wanting to discuss secrets like you were a kid again. But he still didn’t pay you any attention, making himself busy with the things on his desk, moving what he could to the drawers as if that would help the clutter that always lingered on the surface. .

Purposefully putting yourself in his way, you took a seat in his desk chair, offering your best pleading eyes as you looked up at him, “Please?”

“It’s a secret! What if I told you and then you told them?” Spencer finally did look down to you, and for the first time you saw a bit of irritation in the way he was looking at you, but his voice still stayed low in the near whisper you had been maintaining.

“I wouldn’t. You know I wouldn’t.” You tried to reassure him.

“I know but…” You were distracted by the way he bit lip before shaking his head, hair falling from behind his ear. “I can’t. I’m sorry.”

“I’ll tell you who I got.” Was your offered bribe, to level the field of secrets. But Spencer was firm in his decision, shaking his head as he reached for his go-bag. “You’re no fun.” The words seemed to have no effect on him, a small soft smile still pulling at his lips.

“Sorry.” Letting your smile reflect his, you rolled your eyes before going back over to your desk to get ready for the jet, trying not to think about how the anticipation of who got you was going to consume your thoughts.

-

A month had come and gone and five days before Christmas, just as you had returned from what was thankfully a short case, the team managed to hold their little holiday party at Rossi’s. Your gift for Penelope had been something you picked out after a week of consideration and kept put away in a nice gift bag at the back of a drawer that should’ve been full of paperwork.

You weren’t supposed to profile each other, but as the days passed you grew only more curious about who had pulled your name. No one paid you extra attention, no blatant ‘what’s something you want for Christmas’ and in the same way, Spencer never said anything more about Secret Santa or who his pick was. You tried everything to get him to tell you, but he remained firm in his practice of keeping this one thing from you.

It was unanimously decided that Rossi would host the get together like he did all big team events, the team slowly trickling into the house after only having three hours between getting off the jet and agreeing to be there. Once everyone was there, and had their share of snacks from the provided buffet, Penelope gained control of the room like it was the roundtable room all over again. “Okay, this year, whoever has worked in the bureau the longest gets to go first.”

“Oh, wow. Thanks Garcia.” Dave didnt even have to move far, passing a small box to Aaron. You could’ve sworn a “Merry Christmas” was grumbled out, only evidence of so being the smile and laughter that pulled at Aarons mouth as he took the lid off the hand sized box.

“Wow, a gift card to Sutton Suits.” To his credit, Aaron did actually sound excited, which seemed to lighten Rossi for just a minute.

“Tell Oscar I sent you, and he’ll slip a quality cigar into your purchase.”

“Noted.” Their laughter died amongst them as Aaron then passed a red plaid gift wrapped object to Spencer, a sense of wonder settling over the room. Spencer was smiling though, now on the edge of his seat as his fingers slipped along the surface of the gift wrap, looking for a seam.

“You’re my Secret Santa?” He asked in a way that a laugh came out, gently tearing the paper away to reveal another book for Spencer’s collection.

“It’s a compilation of the ranked, most challenging published crossword puzzles from the last 35 years. I thought you’d enjoy.” Aaron explained to both Spencer and the team, your attention captured by Spencer as he pressed his thumb along the edge of the book, flipping through the many crossword puzzles that lined the pages. That one smile you’d grown fond of pulled at the corner of his mouth before he looked back at Aaron, full smile overtaking his face.

“Thank you, Hotch.”

The rest of the exchange went a little something like that. Derek got JJ some gift certificates to a new gym that was opening near her house, and JJ in turn got Derek a bulk bag of door hinges since “you don’t seem to know what those are” but then added he could use them in his house renovations. Penelope got Emily a scrapbook of photos full of Sergio and all the adventures she missed while in WITSEC and Emily got Dave a bottle of whiskey, which he thanked her for getting “the right kind” but then scolded her for spending too much on a gift.

By the time it was your turn, you had realised two things: Spencer hadn’t gone, and no one had given you a gift yet. And you surely hadn’t pulled your name but when you looked over to him, to suggest he go so you could confirm your new forming theory, he wouldn’t look at you. “Has Spencer gone yet?” You asked more so to Penelope, who had essentially made herself the leader of this whole exchange. The puzzled expression of her face held as she looked over to him, a small pout forming on her lips.

“No, no he has not.” The anxiety was creeping up the back of your neck, and just when you thought he had been caught, that you would get your answer, ever the gentleman he was.

“It’s okay, you can go.”

“But you’ve been at the BAU longer.”

“It’s fine. Go.” His voice softly encouraged you from where he sat, next to David’s Christmas tree. Pulling the bag from the side of your chair, you passed the glitter covered gift bag to Penelope, who beamed like she just won the lottery.

“You’re my Secret Santa?” She seemed genuinely excited, weighing the bag in her palm before tearing away at the tissue paper.

“Surprise!” You watched as her jaw fell, hand pulling out the first item. A pink bedazzled stapler, tiny pink rhinestones covering the whole surface.

“Shut up!”

“And there’s pink staples inside, just for you.” Your voice grew quieter as she still seemed ever so thrilled to be opening a present.

She pulled the matching tape dispenser out before finding the pink legal pad and new pink poof pen, one that lit up when the ink was pressed to write. “Where did you find all of this? My dreams?”

“I have my ways.” Putting everything back in the bag, she got up to give you a hug, pulling you tightly into her arms as everyone around you laughed and cheered. Their applause died down when she sat back down, all the attention falling to Spencer.

“Alright lover boy, your turn.” When you watched him then, you could see how nervous he had become, a slight tremble in his hand as he pulled the massive bag from its hiding spot, a bag that stood up to his knee height from the floor.

“You probably figured it out by now.” He whispered to you as he brought the bag closer.

“What’d you get her? Your heart?” Derek remarked from where he sat next to Emily, who was quick to elbow him in the side. Spencer must have registered his words as he had a jerk reaction to it like he briefly choked on something, but he was quick to return to his normal behavior, avoiding your eyes as he returned to his seat. From there though, he seemed more comfortable to make eye contact with you, lips curling in to lick them before trying to find his words again.

“What is it?” You beat him to it, but the smile that had formed on your lips seemed to put him at ease as he reflected it to you.

“Just open it.” Was his simple instruction as he leaned back in his seat, knee bouncing in subtle anticipation. Prying the sealed gift bag open, you were met with a familiar black fabric, though without the pilling that you were almost used to. With both hands you pulled it from the bag on the floor, up into the air to get a better look at it. It was a new black peacoat, your size and everything. Bringing it to your lap, you immediately looked to Spencer who was biting his lip, waiting for your response.

“Thank you!” Were the few words you were able to come up with, the simplicity seeming to make Spencer relax again

“Well come on, try it on for us!” Penelope called from her seat, reminding you that the whole team was watching this gesture in action. Standing, you unfasted the buttons and slipped your arms into the satin lining, already imagining how warm the cold weather cases were going to become.

You tried not to think of the first time Spencer let you borrow his jacket, how it was still warm from his own body heat. How the scents of his cologne and laundry detergent wafted around you like a scarf, forcing you to smell and think of him despite trying to focus on the crime scene you had been visiting that day. How the second and third cold weather case you had again asked for the jacket, but by the fourth and fifth case and so on he had offered it to you, always smiling when you slipped it on. “Borrowing your boyfriends jacket?” Derek had taunted you one day, in earshot of Spencer who failed to fight the blush on his cheeks. It was such a simple thing, but knowing you had your own black peacoat, and that of all people, Spencer, had been the one to get it for you meant everything.

Slipping a hand into a pocket, you felt a piece of paper, small and folded hiding within. Immediately looking back to Spencer, he just offered you a smile and a wink, patting the same spot on his cardigan as if he knew what you were about to say.

“Ooo la la, why have we seen this look on you before?” JJ asked more to the room than you specifically, and again you looked to Spencer, who seemed to be in his own thoughts, a small blush rising to his cheeks.

“Because she always borrows my jacket, I thought she should have one of her own.” There was something in the way he was looking at you, a gentle fondness that you had only ever seen from him a handful of times.

“And all for $25?” Emily added to the questioning. “Where did you get such a deal?”

“Alright, that’s enough.” Aaron tried to spare you both and reign in the team. “That is a nice coat though. Well done.” The blush had stayed on his cheeks and while you slipped the coat off your arms, you made sure to reach for the note before slipping the coat back into the bag.

“Now, we eat!” David cheered over the room, everyone vacating their spots to head towards the kitchen. You lingered in an effort to read the note, opening it in the palm of your hand.

“I need to talk to you.” Scribbled Spencer’s hand writing before signing off on it with a singular S.

“Are you coming?” His voice caught your attention, unaware he was beside you this whole time.

“Spencer, I-“

“Later.” He was quick to cut you off before motioning with an extended hand for you to walk in front of him towards the dining table.

-

After dinner, night started to fall noticeably over the Rossi Mansion. All conversations had lost their focus and everyones laughter was bordering into delirious bouts of nonsense. Before anyone could leave, Dave asked that people either make leftover plates to take home or help clean up the dishes into the kitchen so all he really needed to do was wash them (or load the dishwasher, whichever one happened first).

With everyone winding down and getting ready to say their farewells for the evening, you tried to get Spencer alone for just a second, yet he always seemed to find something to do. It wasn’t like he was avoiding you, he kept looking at you, smiling that same soft smile, but he also made an effort to not be alone in the same room as you. “Everything okay?” Derek had asked as you watched Spencer and Penelope clean up the wrappings and trash of the Secret Santa gift exchange.

“He’s avoiding me.”

“What?”

“He bought me this nice ass jacket and now he’s avoiding me.” You mused aloud, never bothering to actually look at Derek, still watching how Spencer would bend down to reach between the chairs for scraps of torn gift wrap. “Why would he do that?”

“Listen, we are profilers,” Derek started, now also watching Spencer, “but there’s no science for what goes on in his mind.”

“I-” Were you really about to air out your inner thoughts to Derek, surely the one person on the team who would give you advice if not for the cost of also holding those same thoughts over your head later? “I need to talk to him. But he’s…” Your words fell short as you watched Spencer look around the living room, confirming all the trash had been picked up. He started pulling on his sweater before he looked at you, saw Derek, and immediately turned to Penelope and Emily to offer his assistance in loading their cars. “Avoiding me.”

“It’s not you.”

“What?”

“He’s avoiding himself.”

“It’s Spencer. He-” You thought about how forward everything had been. The jacket, the note, the concept of the present itself. How one minute he was confident and charming and the next second he was unsure and slightly distant. “Why would he do that?”

“Say the first part of your sentence again.” A chuckle came from Derek’s lips as you thought it over: It’s Spencer.

“Why would he do that?” You repeated, hoping to maybe get a different answer from him.

Taking too much enjoyment in the obvious pining, Derek just laughed, “Back to the first answer: there’s no logic, rhyme or reason.”

“It’s Spencer.” You concluded aloud now for your own understanding, hoping everything would start to make sense.

“You got it.”

Spencer had come back inside just for Dave to start corralling everyone out of the house. “You don’t have to go home, but you cannot stay here.” He had said as everyone started to say their final goodbyes for the night. There were hugs all around, many variations of holiday wishes for the extended weekend everyone was about to embark on.

“Hey, can you give Spencer a ride home?” Emily had asked as she pulled away from her goodbye hug.

“Excuse me?” He called several feet away from where he had been on the fringes of a conversation between Aaron and JJ.

“Is everything okay?” You had asked her, looking her once over as if the answer was somewhere on her person.

“Yeah. Penelope ordered something to my address and I’m supposed to drop it off at her apartment after and, well I forgot. Besides, don’t want to keep Reid out past his bedtime.” She had tried to joke but he crossed over to your conversation now, slight upset over his face.

“I don’t have a bedtime!” He had tried to protest.

All to be met with a “yes you do,” from the members of the team that were still left. The pout in protest pulled his bottom lip out from under his top, and he finally turned to look at you. His attention shouldn’t have felt like a reward, but being treated with an imaginary ten foot pole in his attempt to keep distance wasn’t a fond feeling either.

You tried to offer him some semblance of comfort but he just turned on his heels to grab his bag from Emily’s car, sulking back over to your car. “Good luck.” Emily whispered to you before turning back to her car.

Climbing into your car, you noticed how Spencer was content to sit completely still and rigid in his seat, his knee bouncing as he brought his fingers to press to his lips.

“Are you okay?” It was an attempt at bursting the bubble that had formed around you two, keeping you in separate worlds from the other.

“I’m fine.” He huffed, answer too short and to the point.

“You’re lying.”

“No I’m not.” You heard it then. The rise of an octave, the unbelievable deflection.

“You are.” He settled further into his seat as you drove out of the DC suburbs and closer to where your apartments were. “Did I do something wrong?” Your voice fell then, insecurity creeping in at the thought that maybe you had unknowingly done something to upset him.

“What?” His voice wasn’t high in pitch this time, but soft in tone as he snapped his attention to you. “Why would you think-”

“Well, you gave me a really nice gift and asked to speak to me later and then spent the rest of the evening avoiding me. So I thought maybe I just did something to offend you, so…”

“I’m not… offended.”

“You’re not?”

“No.”

“Then what is it?”

“I,” his head fell back, hitting the head rest before he blew out some air from his pressed lips, looking over to you to watch your reaction to his next words, “I like you.”

“Well yeah. I mean we’re friends, have been friends for quite some time now.”

“No, I mean… I like you, like you.”

“Oh?” A silence had settled as you both took a moment to take in his words, then hoping the other would say something to end the silence. “Are you sure?”

“Am I sure?” It offered him the chance to laugh. Not like he was insulted, but more he thought it was funny that you weren’t sure if he was sure.

“I mean- I think I get it. But why did you spend the rest of the night avoiding me?”

“Because,” you came to a red light while you waited for his answer, looking to him to see he had already been watching you, “I was scared you wouldn’t feel the same.” He started to shy away from you again, eyes avoiding meeting yours no matter how long you thought you’d been staring at him.

“What if I do?” You reached for his hand in between your two seats, fingers gently securing through his, waiting to see if he would pull away. This grabbed his attention, hopeful eyes finally looking into yours now. “What if I do, like you, like you?”

“Then I would be thrilled.” It was sweet, the feeling of understanding, of mutual endearment for the other while he held your hand there, paying no mind to the red light above you both. But like a sign from above, it turned green, reflecting off the interior of the car.

There were so many things you wanted to commit to memory, in the same way he would without half the effort. You wanted to remember the way he looked at you, the way it felt to be under his gaze with this new meaning. You wanted to remember the way it felt to hold his hand, or the way it felt to have his thumbing small circles into your hand. The way you couldn’t fight the smile as it took over your lips, or the way he seemed to feel the same way. But most of all, you wanted to remember how it felt to be in that moment with him, mind swimming with possibilities of what this would mean for the future.

-

Tell me what you think here.

[railingsofsorrow]

Somewhere Underlined

summary: jennifer jareau would be the death of you someday, you know that and you'd probably let her. surprisingly, you weren't aware that you caused that same reaction on her, too. 

pairing: jj jareau x fem!queer!reader 

w.c: 4.8K

warnings/content: lots of yearning and miscommunication; angst (wouldn't be me without any angst); flirting; fear of rejection; this is not a coming out fic but it discusses the topic; description about impulsive actions & consent & acceptance; foul language at some point; murder is briefly mentioned; mentions of bad experiences regarding relationships; friendly banter; an argument; fluff; making out. 

A/N: this is my entry for @the-guilty-writer pride fic challenge! I didn't chose an specific prompt. I've had this idea for a long time and when I saw this challenge I thought “oh, that's how this is going to go.” hopefully, you'll like it <3 and happy pride month!!!!

─────────────────────────────────── 

“I think I'm in love with her.”  

You don't go around revealing your life to the first person you see. That's just not you. But have you ever been through one of those moments where your mind trails back to that person and all you can see it's her eyes, her smile, the scrunch of her nose when she's concentrated and the tilt of her head when she's confused about something?  

And then, it slips out. Your heart speaks for itself, you can't control it.  

“Huh?” Penelope queried, drifting her attention back to you. She has been ogling some blonde dude since the moment you came into the bar. You didn't understand the appeal. He was just an average white probably tasteless man. Penelope could do so much better, but that was none of your business.  

You were ogling someone else as well, so. Hypocrite.  

“Wait—what?” The blonde gripped your arm, eyes widening behind her glasses as if a realization has come to her. “Who are you in love with?” 

Oh, she heard that? Somehow you thought it could have been muffled by the loud music.  

You know some order thing that could be muffled? JJ and her stupid flirting with that stupid guy beside you. God, if she giggled one more time you'd break your beer bottle in your head.  

You wondered what would Penelope think in case she knew who you were talking about. You've received a lot of looks because of your sexual orientation over the years and it's long gone that part of you that cared so much about what people thought of you. You were a grown woman, successful in your field and you didn't depend on anyone to survive. Especially prejudiced people. But those people in the bar, they weren't just people. They have become your family. You couldn't stop thinking if they would treat you differently if they knew you weren't straight.  

“Baby girl and princess!” You step out of your inner turmoil to acknowledge a very drunk Derek Morgan. Both of his arms around yours and Garcia's shoulders. He was the touchy kind of drunk. You didn't complain and you knew by your friend's wicked grin that she wouldn't either. “Now what are you doing here moping around? There's a dance floor with plenty of space over there.” 

“Oh, I can see that. Are you taking us there then?” 

“I'd be more than happy too.” 

Before Penelope could drag you out, you clicked your tongue under the roof of your mouth.  

“Sorry, not tonight. My legs are killing me.” 

Derek chuckled, shaking his head in disapproval. “Because of when we jogged after the unsub?” 

Grabbing a shot of tequila and promptly throwing your head back, you straighten your back while staring back at him, a scowl present in your features.  

“You call that jogging? I'm not a gym rat like you, Morgan.” 

“I can see that, we need to change that!” 

“Uh-huh,” you push his shoulder playfully. “Convince Spencer first and we can all wake up at five a.m together to run around the Headquarters.” 

Derek yelled through the music about always getting what he wanted in the end and he wouldn't give up before Garcia whisked him away to the dance floor and they disappeared from your sight.  

A smile lingered on your lips until you realized the golden strands almost touching your arm and your mood went sour again. Thankfully or not, you could no longer hear the flirting, maybe the alcohol was being effective and numbing your eardrums. 

“A pretty face like that cannot carry anything but a smile.”  

Really, someone was about to get punched tonight and you wouldn't be responsible for your choices. What would it take for you to be alone and sad for a few minutes— “Oh,” you blinked at Emily, shoulders sagging in relief. “It's you.” 

You saw her grin through the glass she was sipping on. “Don't act so excited.” 

“It's not that.” You rolled your eyes. “I thought it was another asshole trying to get my number. I'm so done with men tonight.” 

“Hey,” she raised her glass, mentioning your beer. As you did, you clicked them together. “Preach. We should kill all of them.” 

You leaned on her arm, face splitting into a shit-eating grin. Yes, the alcohol was finally in your system. “Such a good idea I could kiss you for it.”  

There was some cheering going around and when you looked back at the dance floor, Penelope was the center of attention. Hotch and Rossi looked like they were having the time of their lives watching the scene, while Blake cheered her on just as strongly as everyone else.  

Sometimes, you wished you had Penelope's confidence. She'd walk into the room with colorful clothes and heels decorated by herself and she'd own it. That was your best friend. Spontaneous, strong and one of the best people you knew.  

If you had half of that confidence you might have confessed your stupid feelings for the woman you were head over heels for. You had to watch her flirt with someone else right in front of you as if it didn't make your heart break because you wanted it to be you instead. 

“Kiss me then.”  

Spinning around to stare at Emily, you blinked confused. “Uh?” 

“You said you'd kiss me,” Emily tilted her head, her dark strands slipping out from behind her ear and covering half of her face. “Do it then.” Her tone had a tinge of playfulness but even in your inebriated state, you saw the truth between the lines.  

You'd never thought of Emily as more than someone you could share everything with. She's been your friend since you entered the Bureau, shy and isolated, she helped you get out of your shell and admit your true persona. She knew everything about you, even more than Penelope, your best friend. Being Queer was something that Emily had a lot to say about and it brought you two closer. To both of you, it was nice to speak without stepping on eggshells, fearing you'd be looked at differently by your friends. 

You were aware she's beautiful. Of course you were, you're not blind. Emily Prentiss was powerful and she radiated grace wherever she walked. That's just something you never... thought about. You never thought that boundary could be crossed. 

Until now. 

“Do you really want me to?” You asked, glancing down at her shiny lips. Another thing you knew about Emily, she hates lipstick, her go-to choice would always be plain chapstick or lipgloss.  

Emily brushed a strand of hair behind your shoulder, leaning forward. Your nose barely touching. “I wouldn't mention it if I didn't want it.” You smiled at that, just as you were about to close the gap between you and say fuck it for everything and everyone else that was in your head, a hand on your shoulder pulled your back, slightly startling you.  

Emily blinks dazed at someone behind you, her face twitching in confusion.  

But JJ says your name and you freeze, “A word, please?”  

She walks away and you are conflicted on whether you should follow like a kicked puppy or stay with Emily and carry on with... Who are you kidding? This is Jennifer you're talking about. Is there any moment you've ever said no to her?  

This is pathetic — you think, stumbling into people as you walked to the exit where you presumed JJ was going. She had vanished a minute ago and there were so many people you couldn't see where she went. 

You're pathetic. She just interrupted your kiss with a pretty girl and you're following after her like a starved stray dog—unless. Unless something happened and she needed you. 

“Jen,” you said carefully, finally outside the bar where she awaited you. You couldn't see her face because she had her back facing you. “Hey, you okay? Did something—” 

“What was that?” She cut you off. As she wiped around to face you, you saw her flared cheeks. That could only mean two things: angry or drunk. She looked fine for someone drunk, different from you who was almost floating at your feet. She said your name again, this time more calculated. “You and Emily? When did that happen?” 

A laugh of astonishment left your lips. Were you hearing it right? “Was that why you called me over here?” you really wanted to be sure before you blurted out something you didn't want.  

JJ scoffed, folding her arms over her chest. That was one of the cutest reactions you find endearing about her, but now it just frustrated you. It frustrated you because you still found her cute despite her irrationality.  

Focus! 

Before you could spar anything back, someone bumped into you causing you to stumble forward, almost falling flat on the sidewalk if familiar arms hadn't held you in place. Her perfume reached you fast than two bottles of beer and five shots of tequila could ever do. The sweet smell of orange blossom made you almost melt in her arms. When you stepped back into reality, you noticed your head was on her shoulder as her whole body shook.  

She was too busy yelling and gesticulating angrily at whoever had bumped into you to realize you were drunk on her perfume.  

“Are you okay? The idiot was too drunk, he almost ran you over— Are you okay?” She repeated, tone softening at the end as she cupped your face and saw your unfocused gaze. “I think we should sit you down.” 

“I'm fine,” you sputtered out, leaning into her touch absentmindedly. Why were her hands better than your pillow? You could sleep right there. 

“Sure, you are.”  

It took you five minutes for you to breathe into a new setting. One you knew too well, the discreet scent of strawberry she'd spray around. That was her car. 

“JJ,” you said, rubbing your eyes tiredly. You should have drank more because you could feel yourself sobering up. “Why did you bring me here? Can't we just talk tomorrow?” 

If you could avoid the inevitable, you'd do it while you could. 

She stayed silent. You huffed out a breath of disbelief when you turned the side and saw her staring straight forward.  

“Okay.” You spat, hand on the door handle. “I'll see you—” 

“Don't leave.” 

“Why not?” Your fist clenched in the handle. “You're acting like a child and I don't even know what I did.” 

Letting out a long sigh, she said, “I'm sorry." 

You hated the way your body reacted to her. Chest searching to cure whatever caused that tinge of sadness in her voice.  

“What happened?” You inquired softly.  

She shifted on the seat, raising both of her hands to pull her strands back.  

“You did.”  

If you hadn't sobered up before, you sure we're sober now.  

“Me?” you croaked out, studying her in what you judged to be nonchalant but it was actually quite desperate. What had you done to make her upset? You barely spoke the entire night.  

In fact, you were trying to take some distance from the blonde for a while. It was the healthiest option you found instead of reciprocating the casual compliments and innocent touching. Because JJ did those things but it was out of friendship. When you did them, you wanted more. You felt more. That had to stop. Once you fell, it was unstoppable. Free falling straight to the rocks. And you'd be the only one banged up in the process due to something you created in your own head.  

But you already fell, didn't you? That's what you blurted out to Penelope an hour ago. You were doomed ever since she said Hi to you in the bullpen on your first roundtable meeting.  

Either way, you took some space. Speaking only the necessary and exchanging point of view during cases. She didn't seem to care so you guess you didn't make a difference in her life. Did it hurt? Yes. But you wouldn't ruin what was left of your friendship.  

“What did I do?” You bit your cheek, afraid she would throw at your face exactly what you were afraid of: she knew about your feelings and she didn't want to be around you anymore. She felt disgusted by you and— 

“You mean what you were about to do.”  

Your hand moved from the handle to your lap as you shifted your whole body to face her. “I— what?” What was she even talking about?  

JJ heaved out a frustrated breath and her gaze finally met yours. It wasn't cold like when she had brought you outside, it was warm, like a volcano about to erupt in lava.  

“God, you don't see it, do you?” Your face caved in confusion. “Why did it have to be Emily? And out of all the places you could do that did it have to be by my side?” 

It was as if her anger had rubbed off on you instantly. 

“What?” You snapped. “You're mad because Emily and I almost kissed by your side?” A humorless laugh escaped you, you didn't even care that she was bothered by what she had seen. You were mad because she interrupted you to screw with your mood. “Oh, I'm sorry, Jennifer. Did I interrupt your trashy flirting with Johnny Depp?” 

Her brows reached her hairline in surprise. She isn't expected you to have any reason to be mad, but apparently, you were. Very much. You never called her Jennifer, it felt so wrong. She almost felt guilty.  

No, she did feel guilty. Immediately after the words escaped her mouth. Why was she making you justify anything? You weren't her girlfriend. You weren't her anything. Just like she wasn't your anything.  

“You really are a hypocrite, you know?” You carried on, jaw clenching. “You've been all over that guy and I had to watch the entire night — when I'm supposed to be having fun — and I'm just— I didn't say anything. Because I have no right to say anything. You can do whatever you want with your life and we're not—” you sucked in a breath, stopping some words from leaving your lips. “—it's not fair, JJ!” 

JJ was speechless, completely taken aback by your garrulous speech. By how you ran out of breath, it looked like you had been bottling up all of that.  

“And you know what? I won't apologize for what you saw. If you're bothered by the fact that I feel attracted to women—” 

“Whoa, wait.” She almost got a neck twist at the insinuation, her whole armor falling. “You think I'm upset because I saw you kiss a girl?” 

“You cockblocked the situation so I didn't get to kiss her—” 

She completely ignored your jab. “This has nothing to do with you.” The look you gave her was enough for her to realize she has just messed up continuously. Really, she called you out here to argue about something that is entirely her issue. It might involve you — it most definitely does, you're the center of it — but it is not your fault. It's hers.  

Jennifer Jareau is a hypocrite. She knows that. 

“I couldn't care less about who you kiss or what your sexual orientation is,” JJ clarified. “I mean, if you ever feel comfortable talking about it— I'm all in for it. But I'm not— that doesn't bother me. That's not what I intended for it to sound like. I'm sorry.”  

Your eyes skim over the features, searching for any sign of lies; the only emotion you were able to find was regret.  

“I had a problem with who you were about to kiss,” she added quietly, munching on her lower lip. A couple crossed the street to reach the bar entrance, they were laughing and holding hands. Diverting her attention down to her hands, she started feeling bad about the situation. Acting like this — angry? That wasn't her. JJ wasn't impulsive nor did she go rough on expressing her feelings. She knew that alright. There's been a lot of times where she wore her heart on her sleeve but none of those times were regarding her love life. She's always been cautious, maybe because in the past, people haven't been cautious with her heart and she had to deal with it by herself. Alone.  

Also, she wasn't sure about her feelings for you. Not until a week ago, when your absence started shadowing her days more and more.  

JJ never fell in love with a woman before. Sure, she's had crushes and was attracted to some but. They weren't you. None of them were you. Somehow, when you came along, her life was flipped upside down. She wondered how could someone question all of their beliefs because of one person? When she met you, the question switched to how could someone not question everything because of one person?  

Oh, but she fell hard. No parachute in sight and she was terrified of heights.  

Between innocent touches on the shoulder, compliments and shared coffees in the morning, and the willpower to just protect you at all costs when you were in the field... something blossomed. And it couldn't have been anyone else.  

That's the reason she was so mad when you and Emily almost... Yes. Not only that but how dare you ignore her for weeks and act as if you weren't doing it?  

Did her absence in your life not mean anything? 

“Did you and Emily fight?” You questioned, brows knitting together. “You looked fine this morning.” 

JJ ran a hand through her face, “No, we didn't fight,” she let out impatiently. 

“Then why—” 

“Because I have feelings for you!” She blurted out. “And I wish it was me. I wish it was me who you were touching and giggling and blushing with, not her.” Okay. What was that thing about not being impulsive? In her defense, she wasn't like this before you barged into her life, so it was all on you. “I wish I was her, to be more specific and to just further bury myself under. I wish it had been me in her place.”  

The softness of her voice revealed how apprehensive she was in saying that. You wanted to pluck out the lines of concern on her forehead, but at the same time, you thought you had gone crazy. You didn't hear JJ saying she wanted to kiss you, did you? Maybe you were still drunk.  

“Are you going to say something?” Her voice was small and you blinked awake.  

“I— I don't—” 

“I'm sorry.” 

Your breath halted.  

“Why?” 

JJ let out a shaky breath, shaking her head with a groan. “Because I just ruined everything.” Before you could protest, she carried on. “I made you think you had done something wrong and it was all me. I shouldn't have said anything, I'm just— I'm sorry—” 

“Did you mean it?” 

“... what?” 

Your eyes traveled through her features, “What you said before.” 

Swallowing hard, she avoided your eyes. “About my feelings? Yes. I wouldn't joke about that.” Something came to her mind and her back straightened slightly. “And also about not being bothered by your sexual orientation,” JJ said. “You're still you and that hasn't changed. It won't change. That would be pretty hypocrite of me, actually.” That last part fell from her lips as a whisper but you could hear it loud and clear. 

You felt your throat closing up. “Really?” you asked, that kid in you that was rejected many times by her parents turned up on the doorstep of your brain. She was still scared. Still looking for acceptance.  

“I love you the way you are, why would it change anything?” 

Your heart stopped beating. Nothing could be heard around you, even though the windows were rolled down and there were few people on the streets, speaking loudly. The bar buzzes with loud music.  

You didn't even know if you remembered how to breathe.  

JJ seemed to be on the same page because she hadn't moved but her eyes were widened in shock. Taken aback by herself. She wasn't remotely drunk to blurt out stuff like that, the opposite actually.  

“JJ—” 

“I'm sorry, I didn't—” 

“JJ,” you said shortly, making her shut up. “Stop,” you ordered even if she had already. The air was heavy, you could taste it bitter in your tongue. Your hand reached out to hers as you leaned closer as her throat bop up and down rapidly.  

Jennifer's mind was juggling between multiple emotions but the moment your fingers brushed hers, it all became silent. It was impressive the way her body reacted to your touch. It slipped her mind from those days you barely exchange a good morning, she doesn't ever want to get to a point where she can't feel it.  

“This isn't a joke, right?” Her gaze lifted to yours. God, had she been staring at your mouth this whole time?  

“No,” she breathed out. “No, it isn't.” Her eyes dropped again, but she got it together in time. “That's not how I wanted you to find out. I'm not sure if I ever wanted you to find out...” 

She watched as your lips twitched slightly and your tongue danced through them slowly. Expecting you to run to the hills as soon as she let the truth slip out, bewilderment reached her senses when that's what you didn't do. You stayed. And you were still there, staring at her, unmoving.  

Until you retracted your hand from hers on the car seat to touch her cheek carefully. Your lips moved but she couldn't hear a thing.  

“Uh, what?” 

���It is okay if I...” She was nodding before you could finish speaking and her lips had crashed to yours in full force. Impulsiveness. That's all her. Then, she leaned back, covering her mouth, blue eyes widened when the reality of what she had done came.  

You made a sound of protest because of the sudden withdrawal. When you saw her face, it was as if a bowl of cold water had dropped right above your head. She regrets it. She hates me now, she's— 

“I'm sorry. I didn't even—I'm sorry, that was out of line, I didn't mean to— I'm so sorry.”  

Tilting your head to the side in confusion, you questioned, “Wait, does that mean that you didn't want to kiss me or—” 

JJ gave you a look of surprise, “I didn't know if you wanted it, which clearly is not the case and I'm sorry—” 

Relief flushed your fear down the drain and you could finally feel the air entering back into your lungs. You started laughing uncontrollably. Feeling eyes burning in your side profile, you raised a hand in a silent request to wait until the fit reached a stop. A minute later, you were red, but you could speak.  

Just as JJ started to apologize again, you shut her up by cupping her cheeks and closing the gap between your lips. Like she had done beforehand, albeit softer. Her eyelashes tinkled your cheeks and the baby hairs at the nape of her neck were being brushed by your nails, it didn't take long for her hands to start trailing down your arms. You felt her smiling into the kiss.  

“You don't hate me?” she asked in between pecks.  

You let out a hum, “I hate you so much—” another kiss “... that I can't stop kissing you.” JJ huffed out a laugh and you kissed down the blush in her cheeks. "I asked if I could kiss you first, silly." She mumbled something along the lines of oh, right. 

“So, uh, wait, I—” She stuttered out and you leaned back. “About what I said before. I really am sorry. I was being an idiot. And of course, you can kiss whoever you want to kiss I was just—” 

“Jealous?” 

Her eye roll was the reply you needed.  

“I don't know. Maybe.” 

You pressed your lips together, “Okay.”  

JJ lifted her eyes to you again, studying your features for a while. She had this unreadable expression from which you couldn't identify the meaning to.  

“What?” you asked softly. She smiled, brushing a strand of your hair behind your ear.  

“Nothing. You're beautiful.”  

You blinked, not expecting to hear that, which only made her grin widen. “It's not exactly how I imagined our first kiss to be.” 

“Oh?” You mocked, recovering from the previous compliment. “So you've been imagining it?” 

“Yes. More times than I can count.” She let her back rest against the seat, eyes never drifting from you. You had missed the feeling of her gaze on you, you had missed just admiring her daily. Now that she was there, in front of you, swollen lips and flushed cheeks — because of you — you didn't know what to do. It was too good to be true.  

Did she love you as she said before? Was this just a one-time thing? Would she regret it in the morning? 

So many questions you wanted answers to but you didn't want to leave that moment.  

She called out your name gently, thumb drawing invisible patterns on your hand. “Hey,” she cooed. “What are you thinking?” 

You shook your head, waving it off. “Nothing.” 

Both of you chose to dive into silent touches and soft mumbling, just enjoying each other's presence. You didn't care about partying inside and a part of you felt smug that she chose you over that man sitting beside her at the bar.  

She was playing with your rings, commenting on each one until you let out a groan and she looked up at you questioningly. You stared at the console, your lips turning down in a frown.  

“What it is?” She asked, suppressing a grin. You looked cute acting so annoyed.  

“There's too much space between us, Jareau. I don't like this.”  

“I'm afraid that that's what happens when I'm in the driver seat and you're in the passenger seat, doll.” 

Your nose twitched at the endearment and your face immediately flared up.  

She grinned.  

“Do you want to go on a date with me?” Her grin turned into a soft smile. She kept staring at you awaiting an answer in expectation, your eyes followed the spark of anxiety in her eyes and the ways her hands had become clammy on yours. No need to be a profiler to realize she was nervous. Not that you weren't about to hyperventilate yourself, but maybe her reaction meant that she wanted something more and not just tonight.  

You weren't sure of that before.  

“You really want to do this?” You brought one of her hands to your cheek, leaning into her warm palm. JJ stroked the spot softly. “I mean, do you want to—” 

“Be something?” 

You gave her a coy smile.  

“I don't want to scare you off,” she added, intertwining your hands while leaning forward. “But, if you want to—” 

“I do.” You cut her off, biting your lip once you realized you did. “I'd love to go on a date with you, Jen. You know,” you paused. “I don't know if that wasn't clear enough, but I feel the same.”  

Laying her forehead on yours for a minute, you saw the corner of her lips quirk up slightly. “It'll take me a while to get my head around that.” 

“I've been smitten with you for like... forever.” 

“That is so not true!” 

You gaped at her. “Yes, it is!” 

JJ rolled her eyes, “If you say so.” Before you could retort stubbornly, she pecked your lips. “I do care an enormous amount about you, you know that?” I love you, actually. But that's too soon and I can wait to say it at the right time. 

Your hand curled around her wrist as if you were afraid she would leave forever. She kissed your cheek, hand nudging out of your grip to intertwine your fingers in a swift motion as if she had read your mind and this was her way of saying I'm not going anywhere.  

“I care an enormous amount for you, too, Jennifer Jareau.”  

[daisyishedwig]

Writing meme about me!

@lusthurts tagged me over two weeks ago but I have been so busy with work I haven't had a chance to answer it.

How did you get into writing fanfiction?

Unofficially I just liked messing around with the characters in the media I consumed, I've always had a habit of pausing in my watching or reading to daydream and theorize about what could happen, or maybe just what my brain wished would happen and so at a very young age I started writing those ideas down.

At some point when I was twelve or so I discovered FF.Net through the Supernatural fandom, I don't remember exactly how. But that was when I went from writing Stargate and Inuyasha fanfiction purely for myself and started writing and publishing Supernatural fanfiction. I really love the weekly 100 word drabble challenges that fandom had back in the day and most of my oldest surviving fic are for those prompts as most of my other stuff I've deleted over the years.

2. How many fandoms have you written in?

So Glee is obviously my most prolific, and then Supernatural would be just behind that. In the past I've also written for Stargate, Inuyasha, Naruto, Buffy, Harry Potter, The Vampire Diaries, Doctor Who, and Takin' Over the Asylum, but most of those have been deleted and lost over the years. I do have unpublished WIPs for Stranger Things, OMGcheckplease, The Real O'Neals, Captive Prince, Magnus Archives, Hatchetfield, and probably more, no idea if any of those will actually see the light of day though.

3. How many years have you been writing fanfiction?

I've been publishing it for about fifteen years but writing it for probably twenty which is an insane number to type out. Like I know I've been writing for pretty much my whole life but seeing it in words puts it in a new perspective. But yeah, my earliest posted work is from 2009.

4. Do you read or write more fanfiction?

It depends on the era? Currently I've been writing more fic than reading, purely because I've been focused on reading so many regular books at the moment (my roommate and I are in a race to read the most books this year, and I'm currently winning, but the rules are that I can't count anything that isn't already on StoryGraph and most of the fics I read are not).

5. What is one way you've improved as a writer?

I think my ability to write banter has improved a lot. I've been writing for so long that everything has improved, but the most noticeable to me is my dialogue, especially when it's witty. I used to struggle so hard with that even though I loved good banter in stories. It's part of why I used to not write Kurtbastian, because banter is so integral to their relationship, but I've been getting more and more comfortable with it .

6. What's the weirdest topic you researched for a writing project?

I'm going to ditto Lusthurts Ohio geography, which is especially frustrating considering how much Glee itself ignores Ohio geography so there's this line of making it not sound completely stupid while also remaining true to Glee's own absolute disregard for it. Also songs and movies that came out in 2012 specifically since I write a lot of stuff set in season 4 of Glee and I try to keep the media I reference contemporary.

7. What's your favorite type of comment to receive on your work?

I love all comments! But if I had to chose my favorites it's probably anytime that I drop subtle hints or foreshadow something and people pick it up and point it out, either on the original read through or during a reread. I also love when people point out symbolism I didn't intend or realize I was making.

8. What's the most fringe trope/topic you write about?

Idk I kinda write a lot of infidelity and toxic relationship stuff. Seblaine is the main ship I write for nowadays, and the nature of their relationship lends itself to a lot of infidelity in their process of getting together. I also just love writing angst, so even when I'm writing established relationships, they end up being sort of toxic throughout especially given the traits of both characters. I just find it more fun and probable to write a slightly toxic relationship than a 100% healthy one.

(I did not intend to just leave Lusthurts answer for this one, but also, ditto. I love the messy toxic relationships, they've always intrigued me and they're so fun to sink your teeth into. I also love writing a lot of polyamory, which idk how fringe it is nowadays but I've been trying to breakaway from the throuple mold and branch out into more interesting, complex, and realistic polycules)

9. What is the hardest type of story for you to write?

I tend to stick very much to the emotional side of things, so stories that get too physical or actiony are the ones I struggle with. Since I've been reading more I've been getting better but it's still not great.

10. What is the easiest type?

Hurt no comfort, lol. Like I do enjoy writing the comfort but sometimes my brain gets hung up on it not being realistic, things getting better too quickly, things like that. But it gets less anxious about just having the angst, even with no happy ending.

11. Where do you do your writing? What platform? When?

I tend to write on my couch, I do like going to the library down the road when I really want to focus, but usually I just write in my living room. I usually just write to google drive, I'm interested in alternatives but I've been using google since jr high so I'm just very used to it and it has so many years of documents. And I just write whenever, but usually in the evening after work, but really whenever I have time.

12. What is something you've been too nervous/intimidated to write, but would love to write one day?

I love ensemble fics and all the distinct personalities of the different characters and I would love to write one that focuses on many characters one day. I'm kind of trying that with my Season 2 AU but that still mostly focuses on Kurt, Blaine, Sebastian, and Sam, which is exactly who most of my fics focus on, so I'm not sure if it will fit full ensemble status by the time I'm done.

13. What made you choose your username?

So Daisy is an old nickname of Darren Criss' (he's talked about it in a few interviews, how he was studying abroad in Italy and when you say his initials in an Italian accent it sounds like Daisy) and when he was in Hedwig and the Angry Inch the username DarrenisHedwig was already taken but I thought DaisyisHedwig would be fun and I've been it ever since.

Oh boy, I'm going to tag @kurtsascot, @calsvoid, @fallevs, @cryscendo

@bitbybitwrites, @annepi-blog, @sperrywink, and @backslashdelta

[acourtofthought]

This sort of falls under Day 2's Magic Prompt since it's a theory on possible powers for Elain. Contains TOG spoilers.

I was having a conversation with @acourtdelaluna a few weeks back and we were discussing how SJM was very confident in her response to a specific interview question, that there would definitely be more ACOTAR babies.

Something about that didn't make sense to us though. Was she referring to a possible Epilogue she's going to write for all the characters? Or did she mean we're going to see it in an actual book like we did with Feyre? The entire spin-off is building towards this huge battle so how can there be another pregnancy for any of the main characters? It doesn't seem logical to have a pregnant female running around in battle.

But I realized today, Elain is the PERFECT character to end up pregnant in the series.

Rhysand is a warrior

Nesta is a warrior

Feyre is a warrior

Mor is a warrior

Gwyn is a warrior

Az is a warrior

Cassian is a warrior

Emerie is a warrior

Lucien is a warrior

The only main character who has actively turned away from everything to do with fighting in battle is Elain. She did not want a weapon and only accepted one when Feyre reassured her she wouldn't need to use it. And while she did use it to save her sister, she returned it "and didn't look back". She is the only character who was written to completely shun the Illyrian fighting leathers. In Silver Flames, SJM made it a point to remind us that "cruelty bothers her". I could be wrong but I don't think there are any clues that Elain's future is going to be that of a warrior in battle so where does that leave her? When everyone else is fighting in the war, what role will Elain play?

In the TOG series, Yrene was a healer. A healer who understood what plants could be used to create salves to aid in healing:

"Elide finished the tin of salve from her pocket, Eucalyptus, Yrene had said, naming a plan Elide had never heard of, but whose smell - sharp and yet soothing - she very much enjoyed. Beneath the pungent herb lay lavender, rosemary, and something else mixed in with the opaque, pale liniment."

I know it's not a theory many agree with but.... there is the possibility that Elain had something to do with healing Cassian after the Kings attack. We don't yet have proof of this though there are lines that could support it.

Aside from small clues that are maybe hinting at Elain's future, one of the biggest things we know as fact is her love of gardening and gardens aren't just about flowers.

Elain has a gentle nature, war and cruelty bother her, she is a grower of things (plants are needed for salves), and she rushed to Cassian when he was injured while Nesta chose to leave Cassian's side in order to decapitate the King.

I can't think of any character who is more suited to end up a healer than Elain.

Not only was Yrene was a healer (who played an important role in the defeat of the Valg), but in the final book with the final battle, she was pregnant.

Elain also ending up pregnant makes such perfect sense to me because it creates a valid reason for her to not have to fight with weapons while the others do. And if she does turn out to be a healer, that would be her contribution to the war itself.

Side note: In my mind Lucien has a breeding kink, full stop. The male who has such control in every single aspect of his life, not seeking revenge against his father and brothers, restraining himself when there are times he had every right to go off on Nesta, Feyre, Rhys, Tamlin, is going to go absolutely feral when he and Elain finally accept their bond and he's not going to give a damn about contraceptive teas.

[bonesandthebees]

i loved starman SO much . you did an incredible job writing the atmosphere and rising tension for it and it's still my favorite horror fic in the fandom. what was the inspiration behind it? what're your tips for writing the atmosphere of your work? :0

aaaa thank you so much that makes me so happy to hear!! I'm so proud of starman so I'm so happy that there are people who still enjoy it :)

the inspiration behind starman was partly that it was originally posted as part of a challenge/prompt event we did in a discord server I'm in. it was supposed to be a horror fic and we used a randomizer to figure out which characters it had to focus on, and by sheer chance the randomizer spit out wilbur, tommy, and dreamXD. so I knew right off the bat I was doing an eldritch/cosmic horror kind of thing with dreamXD being involved.

along with that, a few years before I participated in this challenge I had taken a trip to visit family in oklahoma. now I'd been to oklahoma several times before, but it'd been many years and it was my first time going there as an adult. the first thing I noticed while I was there was how unsettling it was to be in such an endlessly flat landscape after having grown up surrounded by mountains and hills my entire life. it made me feel like i was being watched. since I was really into cosmic horror at the time, I ended up spending that trip writing an original horror story about a giant eye watching over a small oklahoma town. so then fast forward several years to the randomizer throwing out crimeboys + dreamXD as a prompt, and I immediately thought back to that original short horror story I'd written during my oklahoma trip and decided to rewrite it as a fic.

of course there's inspiration from annihilation with the colors and the weird blood and all that. also there's the obvious inspiration from house of leaves with the formatting towards the end. I got the idea while I was in the middle of writing the fic, and while my immediate reaction was "I don't think I can actually do that on ao3" I then thought about it some more I was like "wait holy shit I might be able to make that work" and I'm so happy I did.

so that's where I came up with the idea! as far as tips for the atmosphere, I tried to focus on making the town feel restrictive and small. even though we go to several locations (wilbur's house, the gas station he works at, the cow pasture, the field he and tommy lay down in) it all circles back to the church. and I had a very specific color palette in my head while I was writing it, with the town itself mostly being described in shades of green/yellow grass, blue and white skies, and brown dirt roads. this was to contrast with all the bright unnatural colors associated with the eye to make it feel even more jarring and wrong. but to be fair a tool like that would be far more effective in a visual format rather than written format lol

there was also the game of being very careful with where I chose to fuck up the formatting. the formatting itself helped a LOT with the atmosphere because a jarring format shift like that can really fuck with a readers head. I had silent rules for myself about how I would integrate it more and more as the fic went on, and what kinds of descriptions would lead to a format shift. I wanted it to be gradual to give the readers that sense of looming dread as it became more and more common, because then they knew the end was near

overall I just tried to describe things in a way that emphasized the isolation wilbur felt from everyone around him (besides tommy). he'd grown up being the only person who could see the eye, and that alienated him from everyone else. that was one of the major things I tried to focus on, although keep in mind I wrote this in february of 2022 so I barely remember what my thoughts were while I was writing it. I wish I could give more specific advice but yeah it's just been a long time. hope that helps though!

[doffies]

ONE PIECE CHAPTER 1116 SPOILERS AND THOUGHTS. AGAIN SORRY

going out of order bc this is the most intriguing. people over on the one piece subreddit theorized the roger pirates just let the information on the void century lie mostly because their captain was already dying + they were guaranteed to disband anyway but. i think this panel basically confirms that this wasn't the case?

that roger chose to keep quiet for ultimately selfish reasons and that the reason rayleigh might be so fucked up atm (which is veering into my personal gametheory) might be because while he respected roger's decision as his captain he ultimately disagreed with it and feels almost responsible for how the world is now?

looking back at sabaody he's surprisingly eager to tell robin and usopp all about laugh tale and the void century and even offers to tell robin everything with little prompting? like maybe he still felt bound by roger's request at some level but also really wanted to break it as soon as the right opportunity presented itself? idk we love morally gray characters who fuck up massively in this house.

not even mentioning old ray's choice in profession as a ship coater, which is very specifically useful if the world were to sink. [thinking emoji]

just a verrry interesting panel. he didnt know york specifically betrayed them but he had an inkling there was a judas at the very least.

akainu i feel is still one of the most mysterious and relatively well-established characters we still dont know shit about. like. hes evidently fiercely loyal to the navy and hates pirates, but he seems to hold disdain for the celestial dragons with interests that dont seem to align with the five elders. really wanna learn more about him and his ambitions bc hes just so intriguing. esp since he's got a sword tattoo and the significance of it esp since he's a marine [side-eye emoji]

aside from that we get more reactions and the reveal of lulusia's destruction to the world, which he most likely heard from dragon since it was kept out of newspapers it seems [?]. also josses the 'snail is with dragon' theory most likely. overall a very good chapter. i get why ppl are complaining vegapunk's announcement getting dragged out, but with this we get one piece's world getting fleshed out in a way we haven't seen in a while.

[elisedonut]

18 and 35 for the ask game please!

How i would combine a Circus AU + Bathtub Fic

thank you for participating with me!!

OK!

So!

First thought was Weasley family circus au where the family itself is a travelling cirrus i have no idea if that's a thing i know most media I've seen is very found family vibes with characters coming into a new family. (or you know abusive situations but I'm electing to ignore those so yes

Weasley Family Circus

maybe it's still a magical world maybe its not

if it is magic somehow then i imagine it be a situation where they had to run during the first war instead of hunkering down and hiding

eventually figuring out they could make money by putting on shows and it spiraling a bit

but that depends a lot on how you think the statue of secrecy works

i think you could hand wave it by making it something that only matters when using wands which I've seen a few times

so like if they enchant say a balance bar to not have to worry so much about not falling off it since they didn't do that in front of the audience it doesn't count

or

the "if the audience doesn't realize its like legit magic then it doesn't trigger whatever they use to tell its been broken because its just a non issue" method which is also very fun imo though cant say I've seen it very often

so pretty much this is all set up for someone who also has magic

i don't know who because i would want it to be someone who doesn't know Percy but it needs to be some bad at keep their mouth shut i think

but someone visiting said circus and getting absolutely drenched but like not water

(what is it? Fred says you don't want the answer)

because of something the twins invented because i just think they would love being in the circus especially because i could see them getting more like support? from Molly specifically since its directly helpful to their act and such

but whatever it is. its obviously not muggle so the person outright asks about it and loudly which obviously they are brushed off but Percy still brings them to the family tent with the intention to get them a towel and maybe a change of clothes

now side note

the family tent has all sorts of muggle charms on it to make it look like well normal so it just looks like a few fairly large tents (it originally looked like a single one but as the kids got older Molly

(and by Molly i really mean Bill, she thinks it was her idea though)

started to notice people talking about them squishing the kids in such a small place and chose to adjust to wards to look like multiple

point is obviously that only effects Muggles so to magic people it looks like one large tent on the outside and obviously looks expansive on the inside pretty much the burrow but its a tent

also because the other prompt is bathtub fic I'm choosing to believe in this au their tub is actually pretty large and kinda nice because the tent was originally a fancy camping tent with a large one meant for relaxing that Arthur found on sale for cheap when Percy was 13

ok back on topic

Percy notices immediately that the person is also magic sense they look far too interested in what should be nothing and ends up letting them use the bath and then you get that fun scene where they get out and are really cute

and Percy gets a crush and penpal for awhile before he leaves the family behind after a few years because he wants to actually settle down somewhere and stuff still leads to a fight and a strained relationship because of the closer nature of the siblings (and because unlike og in this world Percy's the first to leave)

but uh yeah

a smaller secondary concept that crossed my mind was stealing the water transportation from kyo kara maoh but instead of the alternate word being a typical medieval-ish fantasy world its instead still a fantasy world but like Percy taking a bath in the prefects bathroom and wakes up in a circus that is also a kingdom

and now he has alternate vers of a bunch of people he knows wanting his attention due to some vague prophecy nonsense about the one who marries the visitor will prosper but like make it silly

on top of also having to solve different problems and always having a chance of being sent back to his world every time he takes a bath

in other words Percy Weasley gets to play an Otome game but in real life

[eleanorfenyxwrites]

FTH 2024

Fandom Trumps Hate bidding is live as of today and this feels like a good time to tell y'all that I'm offering two gift works this year! I had to skip last year as I had just way too much going on, and while I guess technically I'm still just as busy I really missed writing as much last year so I'm prioritizing it now. But anyway - my offerings! Here's the link to my offering page itself if you'd like to look there or think about donating, but for the full breakdown (and a bit of explanation) click the readmore 😌

So as I said I'm offering two works this year, one 5-10k words and the other 10-20k words. The minimum bid for the smaller fic is $5 and for the longer one it's $15. My ships/tags/special interests/etc. are the same for both, and for those of you who are familiar with what I write I'm sure you can guess what they are lol but I'll put it all here anyway!

Ships I will write (and they are listed in order of personal preference for writing): 3zun (or any pairing within it), Wangxian, Chengqing, Xuanli, Junior Quartet

Especially interested in: Fix-its, AU's (specifics can be discussed), Canon Divergence, Slice of Life, Fluff, Angst with Comfort, Smut, Gender Fuckery™, Rule 63/Cisswap

Ships I don't want to write: SongXueXiao or any pairing involving Su She, Wen Chao, Wen Xu, or Jin Guangshan.

Unwilling to address: Angst with No Comfort, Bathroom Kinks, Underage, Rape (I can make exceptions at my discretion depending on context)

Other notes: I can be fairly flexible! I've worked before with a bidder who wanted an extra written for one of their own stories, I can write requested extras or missing scenes for any of my existing stories/universes, or we can come up with something completely new. I prefer specific prompts, but please allow me some wiggle-room for my own interpretations, we're working on this as a team!

Special interests: F/F ships, Poly ships, Genderswap/genderbending, Canonically trans or nonbinary characters, Trans or nonbinary interpretations of canon characters

This year I've chosen to select specific charities I'd like donations to go towards, and I chose ones that take international donations and that focus their efforts on people of color, children/youths, and LGBTQ+ issues.

Organizations this auction benefits:

In Our Own Voice ["...lifting up the voices of Black women leaders at the national and regional levels in our fight to secure Reproductive Justice for all women, girls, and gender-expansive individuals..."]

Middle East Children's Alliance ["...organization working for the rights and the well-being of children in the Middle East...They are currently responding to the Gaza crisis with medical supplies and emergency assistance for displaced families."]

Never Again Action ["A Jewish-led mobilization against the persecution, detention, and deportation of immigrants in the United States, NAA takes on campaigns against detention centers and ICE training programs, and organizes mutual aid and deportation defense."]

Sherlock's Homes Foundation ["...provides housing, employment opportunities, and a loving support system for homeless LGBTQ+ young adults so that they can live fearlessly as their authentic selves..."]

And that's it really! I'm really excited to be doing FTH again, I loved it the first time and I love feeling like this ridiculous hobby does some material good in the world in a way that's a bit more targeted and magnified than the writing usually does on its own. Financial contributions to good causes isn't something I've been capable of managing in a very long time, but I can spend my time writing a thank you gift for those who can and do ❤

[sennamybeloved]

want me like a wild thing.

safeshiptember day 1: first kiss.

▬▬ ship: mileena x phantom (s/i)

▬▬ warnings: none!

▬▬ author's note: y'all know how much i love writing prompts (and fall) this list by @/rhiatargoed-selfships is right up my alley! the reason i chose mileena for this prompt specifically is because of her lack of lips to kiss. that doesn't mean i can't make it work, though.

"My dearest Mileena, won't you sit with me a moment?" Despite the enormous anxiety that is bubbling within it, Phantom's voice still manages to be airy and inviting.

Mileena turns. Her sharp, bestial eyes stare down upon the vulpine. Once, she seemed like a predator to it; the perpetually bigger fish in an all-encompassing sea; the one to finally devour Phantom and put an end to whatever it was and could've been. However, everything about Mileena that it once found frightening, from her blood-stench to her rows of razor-sharp fangs, has since turned into a strange comfort.

"...Yes." Comes her hesitant answer, voice a quiet rasp against the back of her throat. It is so rare to see her so meek.

Mileena settles down beside Phantom. Leaves and fog swirl around them as they quietly gaze upon the canopy of leafless trees. It's a beautiful late-autumn evening.

And yet, the only thing Phantom can bring itself to look at is Mileena.

The blood, the fangs, the monstrous eyes, that raspy voice of hers. It's more than just a strange comfort, Phantom finds it all to be so beautiful.

It gazes at her quietly from where it sits. Its alabaster tail comes to furl around her, a silken caress that becomes a shield when paired with rising hackles and fearful eyes. She's beautiful. She isn't looking at Phantom, instead staring blanket into the trees, but she can certainly see it staring.

"You're beautiful," the words tumble out of its mouth before its head can think better of it.

Mileena shifts uncomfortably, and Phantom's heart aches with worry. Usually, she is receptive to praise; she thrives on it, as a once-rightful empress and a lesser-than to an empress. However, the more insistent Phantom gets about her beauty, the sadder she becomes.

After a moment that feels like an eternity, she speaks. "I am not."

Sorrow. It comes crashing into Phantom like a frigid wave, crushing them with the weight of a mountain. "You are," it responds, tentative but insistent. "You cannot say that every time I compliment you Mileena. Well, I suppose that you could, but please. Don't do that to yourself."

Usually, when Mileena rejects its affections, it'll simply drop the topic so as not to make her uncomfortable. But this time, something in its heart is apprising it of the need to pry. Even if it's uncomfortable for the both of them, at first.

Phantom was right to attend to that itch in the back of its skull, because Mileena's demeanor shifts near instantly. She's actually looking at it now, her eyes wide and her shoulders dropped. She manages to look surprised and touched, despite the permanent snarl that is etched into her face.

"You..." Phantom tries, but the words are escaping it. No, no—it was doing so well. It clears its throat, vulpine ears twitching anxiously. "Even if you don't look like..." like Kitana, "other human women, you still look beautiful. If not to yourself then, to me. You look beautiful to me."

There's a pause as Phantom studies the other's face for hints of a reaction, positive or negative, but it's inconclusive; all she does is stare.

"You don't have to find yourself beautiful, but please, give me a chance to show you that someone else can."

The thought then crosses Phantom's mind: how else could it possibly show that? It praises her, brings her gifts, assists her when it is needed, provides her with near-constant company at her demand. She wants it close, but not too close, for fear of it falling victim to lethal claws and sharp teeth.

But it wouldn't mind that. It'll take that risk and many more, if the reward is closing this goddamn distance.

Distance, distance... closing the distance.

"May I kiss you?" It blurts out; a final footnote.

First, there’s silence. And then, a harsh, bitter laugh escapes Mileena’s lips. “On this mouth? How will you manage?”

A strange cocktail of emotions swirls within Phantom. There’s shame, sadness, and most notably, determination. It narrows its eyes, its tail swishing in an agitated manner. Yes, on that mouth, it thinks definitely. Even if her teeth cut it’s lips.

“May I kiss you?” It repeats, more persistent this time.

Mileena falls silent again. Her posture relaxes, opening up and becoming more vulnerable. Her ginger-hued eyes grow soft. Her jaw works, razor-like jowls opening and closing slowly. She doesn’t quite know what to say.

So, Phantom reaches out and takes her hand. Slender fingers embrace leather and metal, claws and dried blood. It squeezes her hand, and she squeezes back. It is the only yes the woman can muster.

Phantom leans forward and presses its lips against the permanent snarl of her mouth. Sharp points of ivory press against soft, pillowy flesh. It hears and feels her inhale sharply, her body going taught like a bowstring. When Phantom finally withdraws, feeling quite pleased with itself, Mileena looks like a statue. A look of alarm and veneration is plastered upon her face. Her breathing slows, stops entirely, and then, a long, shaky sigh escapes her. She melts into Phantom's arms.

It doesn't know who closes the distance first, but in a matter of moments, they're tangled up in a warm embrace, and Phantom is breathing in the scent of Mileena's neck. Blood and steel.

"You're impossible," she admonishes, pointed nails clutching at Phantom's furred back.

It chuckles, a warm titter against her skin.

[furashuban]

Song asks 4 and 9

4: A song that reminds you of someone you would rather forget about

Don't wanna delve into any specifics behind the reason for picking this song for this particular prompt, but even then this is still a comfy song I really love on its own :>

9: A song that makes you happy

I'm gonna pick TWO songs for this one:

First song is where it all started for me as a Hilda fan (like this was genuinely the sweetest song I've ever listened to in my entire life and it still kinda is) <33

And the second song is a pretty recent one :> Chose this not just 'cause it's associated with the new TARDIS reveal scene from the 60th specials which was an infectiously exciting moment to watch but it's just an enchanting as hell track by itself <33

-Music Asks-

[bunnyfrail]

The Feeling of Loneliness

Chapter 1

Outside the arched casement window, the fog stretched out on the forest floor. It was dense, almost as if created by smoke machines. The grounded clouds in the view looked like smudges on a photograph. What was underneath was distorted with a blurred airbrush like quality. I could still discern silhouettes of trees in the distance, but only because I assumed that’s what was there. The evening sky was a faint algae green.

The window in front of me had a broken lock. It had the hook dangling by a screw but not the metal piece it was supposed to latch onto. Being an old thing, the window didn’t close properly. The cool mist crept in like a bandit and clung to me like a second skin.

I was becoming acquainted with my bedroom. A light, polka-dot rain jacket was tied around my hips over my skirt, but I kept it there. I only had love for the cold. Even now, as it snuck up on me, I knew I’d quickly adjust. The bedside I sat on had a gentle give to my weight. My shoulders were slumped over while looking out the window. Falling back onto the bed, the ache in my back I had gotten from slouching stretched itself out. On the ceiling, I caught a glimpse of a tiny spider observing me.

I wasn’t made aware by those who sold me this place that I was going to have a roommate, but a non-human one was something I could handle. The spider remained still as I tried to steady my footing on the bed. On my tip-toes, I reached my hand up as an offering of my friendship. I wasn’t tall enough for my arm’s length to let me touch the ceiling. The little one probably noticed this before descending into my palm by spider silk. For a house spider, it looked far different from those I’ve seen before. It was cuter, with big eyes and short black and white legs. I wouldn’t want to accidentally squish such a sweet thing in the future, especially since it was so nice as to not scurry away. There were no webs built in the room, so I assumed the spider was just passing through to say hello. I slowly got down from the bed, and we both left out the bedroom door.

This house was made in the early 1800s, and I certainly appreciated the few preserved charms while strolling down the second-floor hall. There were many doors. Some doors opened to rooms, while others uncovered narrow hallways. It was a confusing layout to me, specifically when discovering a separate hallway and bedrooms connected to the master bedroom. I chose the room across from that one as my own. I liked my bedroom to only have one entrance.

The wood flooring was coated by a thin carpet down the center of the walkway. Carpet bristles hardened over years of being stomped over; it felt rough against my bare feet. Faded wallpaper covered the walls. Floral details were carved just beneath the ceiling. I didn’t know what that would be called, but it was pretty. The ceilings here were very tall, so I held my head back to get a good look at everything. At eye level, my less impressive and unsold paintings were freshly hung beside me. I would say I was not proud of them, since no one else took interest, but then what would’ve prompted me to display them? I still looked away.

The stairs were a little steep, and going down them made me nervous about falling. They weren’t the stairs I was used to, back at my old home. I cupped the surprisingly still spider in between my palms in case I was to stumble. My hands became a little house for it, where my finger gaps were windows. I was grateful to the carpet for preventing me from slipping on the wood beneath. My new home and I were getting used to each other.

I picked this house myself. The furniture inside was chosen by someone else long before I was born, and now it’s mine with the property. No road leads here, as what makes sense when you're in the forest, but there is a dirt path that's slightly intact before the front doors. It fades away the farther into the surrounding trees it goes. A forty-minute walk away, my car is parked by the nearest road. There might’ve been closer roads before, over a hundred years ago, but they’ve disappeared in being closed off. People have made the abandoned town less accessible with time. That place is why I chose this strangely available house kept up nearby.

Plainwood— the town which birthed whispers in upstate New York. There have been strange sightings of creatures and ghosts and reports of kids never growing up until they leave. At least, I’ve read articles online about such things. Those weren’t considered factual or even acknowledged, but it is illegal to trespass on Plainwood territory. Sometimes police patrol the forest perimeter for certainty that more alleged rumors aren’t made. Those rumors are what made me excited, though, while staying up late imagining coming here.

Down the steep steps, the light from the outside sun replaced the artificial one above. Low in the sky, it peaked through the trees and came to visit me through the windows in the foyer. Two windows stood tall beside the monumental doors, and a curved one was built above them all. I could spot little specs that floated in the air with the new, gentle light. It made me think of fairy dust as it glowed rather than actual dust. Walking through it, I tried to look out at the bright show the sun puts on before it ends its performance every day. The sun battled through the fog to shine. I couldn’t do much about foggy windows, though. Trying to peek through a cloudy window made my view blurry. These windows were well aged with corners that look frosted. Not being able to spot much of anything exciting outside, I noticed the beautiful faint green tint that came from the hazy glass.

The sun isn’t setting just yet, but it’ll be soon. My fingers unclasp. If I lean against the window with my hands, hold my face closer, maybe that’ll help me see through. Though, when my hands opened, the little spider I was carrying crawled between my fingers and rested on the joint in the middle of one. I accidentally forgot about what I was doing down here. Not getting distracted would be difficult for anyone, though, when the foyer is as pretty as it is right now. My new spider roommate was a pretty thing, too. I turned my left hand around so the knuckles and spider faced up for me to see.

“Would it be okay if you stayed right there— please?”

The spider moved in that instant at the sound of my voice. It wasn’t to crawl around but to turn its body around. Its sights now rested on me. The little spider seemed aware, and maybe that was the case with all the spiders near Plainwood! The ones here could be super-smart, friendly spiders that could be companions to people. Or maybe my searching for signs of abnormality made me eager to believe things that weren’t so. That’s been the case before.

My eye contact was broken with the spider as I walked towards the hall to my left. I passed the entryway table while leaving the sunlit foyer. The table had a framed mirror hung above it and a gorgeous electric lamp that seemed to be a more recent edition to the house. The lampshade was made of stained glass in several radiant colors. When I was moving in the few boxes I had earlier, I unplugged the lamp. There was no use in having it plugged in if I wasn’t using it. Passing the mirror, I avoided looking at my reflection in it. I wasn’t going to get distracted again.

Here, the halls had sleek wooden flooring. There was no carpeting downstairs as there was on the second floor. The walls beside me were painted a muted green above the paneling that covered the bottom one-third of them. The color matched the wallpaper upstairs. I stopped in my tracks to peek into the room to my right. This space would make a perfect little tearoom. It wasn’t my stop, but I felt compelled to go inside. Looking down at the spider on my hand, I tried to ask permission with my eyes. The spider didn’t seem to be on a tight schedule, and I had all the time in the world. I walked through the doorway, losing focus once more.

Inside the room, there was a cute round table and chairs in the center. The walls in here were painted baby pink and had two wooden trunks up against them to the left. To the right of me was a massive wardrobe. I looked towards the wide window ahead. It was the kind of window built as a display. It didn’t open, so no one could go through there. On the other side of the glass was the porch made to the left side of the front doors. The view through this window was clear.

I seated myself before one of the trunks at the bottom of the left wall. Used as storage chests all over the house, I had no idea what treasures could be hidden inside them. Though, I awed at the beautiful dolls placed above the florally painted wood of this one. Precious and made of porcelain, their delicate builds were dressed in many patterns and lace trims. My fingers touched the celadon ribbon that peaked through the beading lace making up the straps of my tank top. The majority of these dolls looked like miniature versions of me. They had soft, round features, like a round nose and faded pink cheeks. Blonde hair flowed down their backs, albeit, unlike mine, they hadn’t had jet roots that contrasted the bleached color. From my face, people could tell I couldn’t be a natural blonde, so I was happy as a bleach blonde. My attention turned towards one of the dolls who, silly enough, wore a bib. It made me giggle, but I couldn’t judge her. The way the ruffled lace trim squares around from the edge of my shirt straps to the bottom of the eyelet lace covering my chest kinda makes me look like I have a bib on too.

“Hello there.”

There wasn't a reply to my greeting, but in the silence, I sensed the feeling of a welcome. My hands touched the flowers hand painted onto the chest. If I wanted to, I could fit inside it if I were to ever play hide and seek. The giant wardrobe behind me, too, could be a nice hiding spot. Dust covered my fingers, even with how light the touches I gave to the trunk were. Where did dust come from anyway? I rubbed my fingertips together to brush it off. The spider shuffled down to the back of my hand from my fingers. The fast movements must’ve made it difficult to stay still. I have all the cleaning products needed to deal with this dust another time. I was especially thrilled about the tiny brush I got with thick bristles that weren't very bendable. It would be great for scrubbing small spaces, like between tiles or planks of wood.

I dashed out of the room painted pink and took air down the long hallway. Holding out my hand away from my body, my arm swayed as if it were a roller coaster cart. The gentle movements were only to entertain my tiny friend. At the end of the hall, I faced a giant cabinet. I could turn right to a dead end and walk by the counters and glass-doored cupboards on both walls leading to another window. Those cupboards were empty, with nothing inside to look at. Maybe this was once where they stored fancy tea sets for tea parties? I could have fun collecting things to display there, but it was strange to think of collecting something for myself that could make someone else happy. I wouldn’t even be able to share my things with anyone. Nobody nearby knows of me yet.

Walking to my left could lead me three ways; right to the kitchen, straight towards the dining room, or left again down another hall. Where I wanted to go was at the end of the hall parallel to the one I just went through. This one had more doors than the other. Shut closed, I tried to recall which ones lead to what. There was a half-bathroom modernized as modern as the eighties is to now and a shabby, secret stairway too. The last door at the end of the hallway I was sure was the basement. Although, maybe it would better be described as a cellar.

The door swung outwards into the hall. My hand in the doorway, I held it still to see how the spider would respond. It crawled down my hand to my fingernails, towards the darkness ahead. I leaned in through the doorway and pulled down a chain. The wooden stairs were illuminated by the lightbulb dangling over me. Going down the steps, they creaked while used. At the bottom of the stairs, I stood where there was not exactly a room but a jagged pathway with separate spaces openly connected to it. The light didn’t reach far enough to see deep into these areas. As if it could, the spider jumped from my fingertips to the floor. It was eager to embrace the shadows.

“You’ve been here longer than me. I hope you’re okay with sharing.”

My legs were cold. It was cold in a way where touching your skin was like touching the glass door of a freezer. The blood ran warm under my skin, but touching the surface felt clammy like the condensation. Crouched down with my knees to my chest, I watched close as my roommate scurried away. I think I’ve read somewhere that their legs don’t have bones, and that they’re extended by fluid pumping through them. Our short goodbye was fitting for a short meeting. It would’ve been impolite to take the spider outside. My gaze lifted from the floor to my surroundings at what I was able to see in the light coming from the top of the stairs.

There was firewood kept down here in the place between dark spaces, piled on an iron shelf. Several fireplaces were built in the house, which I’ve only admired as decoration so far. A tool rack was built on the brick wall next to the wood. The tools hung up in a line were made of rusty metal. They all matched, besides the vividly colored plastic shovel. Plastic would make it much weaker than the metal one that would’ve come with the set. My weight shifted to my palm pressed against the concrete floor as I hoisted myself up from the ground.

I won’t be coming down here often. Up the stairs, I went back to the top on my tip-toes. Being barefoot on wood could get me a splinter, but I felt more secure in my steps on my toes. The chain above clinked when the light was turned off. There was a chain lock on the inside of the door. It was puzzling, with that being the lock installed when the door opens in an opposing way. The embellished door knob felt like ice. It could have been made of steel or iron. If these were of iron, then it might draw away fairies. That would be good for the mischievous and cruel ones, but if there happened to be a nice one I’d never get to meet, I would be upset with that. The door creaked when it was pushed closed behind me. I was alone now in this isolated house, though not entirely I suppose.

The kitchen ceiling was the height of two floors. My sights lifted up while leaving the hallway. Orange and chartreuse lit the area up from through the windows. They weren’t as tall as the walls that towered. Glossy tiles made up the floor I walked on. My shoes were next to the kitchen door across the room, in front of the elevator-sized vestibule outside. There was a blockage before the exit by my wagon I had left there in the morning. Bungee cords with plastic hooks dangled off the sides like snakes. They were used to stack boxes in the wagon of stuff not in my luggage. Instead of an island, a wooden table was at the center of the kitchen. An empty box and one full of dishes and cutlery were on it. I only ever used the same bowl and spoon. I slid over to the refrigerator which now stored the groceries once in the empty box. Surprisingly, I haven’t been hungry since arriving here at the beginning of dawn. My hand gripped the jug of orange juice in the fridge. I might as well get some vitamins if I wasn’t going to eat.

The artistry in the designs of this house were breathtaking. Even just being able to see the rings in the wood cabinets instead of a solid white on particleboard made me very happy. I was thankful for all of it, not only to possess but to behold the lovely gift. This was technically a last goodbye present before I weaned from my parents. Jug placed on the table, I pulled a glass from the box beside it. The sink behind me turned on by lifting the handle connected to the spout. My cup wasn’t dirty, but maybe it was. Water rinsed my glass clean, and my hands as I washed it.

My orange juice seemed more yellow than any other color. Especially in the miscolored light, it was gold compared to the hour named after the metal itself. A golden juice, all too like the golden tomatoes in the family garden. Flowers never bloomed there unless they were a foresight to fruits yet to come. Flowers don’t last too long. My father preferred enduring stuff, something without a fleeting end. Agreeing with him, my mother always chose to invest in more practical things; tomatoes, mint, rosemary plants and apple trees. It was nice to spend time with them on the grounds when they weren’t busy. As a child, I’d slip away to town to admire the blossoms on the other side.

At the wooden table, I poured the juice into my glass. These jugs never poured in a steady stream, rather they plopped and crashed against the side of the glass. Putting the jug away, the bright light inside the refrigerator was harsh on my eyes. I realized then, in comparison, the sunlight had cowered away in the corner as the sun was setting on the other side of the house. I turned, sipped the sweet orange juice and decided to follow the fleeing sun. The last glow in the kitchen waved goodbye as it flickered and left for the day.

Besides the money I made on art commissions, the house was paid for by my parents. A detective cap is unsuited to me, yet I wear one in searching for clues in their actions to know that they love me. It’s as if they’re hiding it like a secret. Although, that may only be from my perspective. Buying me stuff seems to be less impactful on me, since I know we have much money to spare. It was worthwhile on this occasion, though. I felt my heart dance inside knowing that this is real. If only it didn’t come with the feeling they were better off to watch me leave. The speed of my steps slowed while leaving the kitchen empty handed. I wasn’t thinking very happily at the moment. I came to an abrupt stop in the hallway.

Hidden between layers of lace, my phone was kept in a hidden skirt pocket. I pulled it out in hopes to reroute my train of thought. It usually speeds down the rails of many destinations, but now it’s made a stop in a desolate place. There were several tabs open of songs online, from fairy movie soundtracks and darkwave artists I’ve clicked on because of the album cover art. Looking at the titles, I hear the music in my head and decide against it. I’ve played these same songs too often to find the joy needed. The Home Screen stared at me as I drifted out of the moment. The bad thoughts were coming back.

The pressure straps onto me in the form of invisible hands on my head. Dull nails struggle to pierce my brain as they crawl. The tight grip was on the sides of my scalp. In my brain, there wasn’t any ache. There was a numbness and fog up there, where I only found discomfort in being held onto by it. My hands curled into fists. My movements were fast and echoed in soundless bangining only I heard in my ears. I felt my knuckles on the left, but where my hand still gripped my phone on my right, I felt the impact of the heel of my palm instead. The vibrations caused soreness which brought an end to the edge. The invisible hands disappeared with the collisions. My phone slipped easily back into my skirt pocket. I wandered again into the tearoom. 

It was a new sight to get caught up in— a room I’ve just met, and from another angle too. I lay on the floor and kick my feet up on the wall. It was funny, because you’re not supposed to stand on the wall. It’s impossible to walk on walls. I kinda am though, in a way. I can pretend I am. My feet moved up slightly in tiny steps by walking motions. Back still glued to the floor, it was my anchor to gravity as my legs were lifted. Smudges and shoe prints were probably left behind on walls all over from me doing this multiple times before. Whenever I’m looking at things from a different angle, I have to focus on that to adjust to the change; I’m too busy laughing at myself to remember what I was thinking about before. That’s why I do it. It was something different, that even when I’m in the same room, I can change my view. My head bobbed side to side as I treaded in place.

The last moments of bright sun were against the wall above me. Sunlight doesn’t fade in an instant, not quickly, but it takes with it the vibrant colors. It left everything a little less saturated, with only the memory of the sun. There was still the remaining light that peeked over the horizon; the few moments before the end of the day that prepared you for the night. This time of day always gave me the most despair, in having to watch something end slowly. Looking around the floor, there were dried clumps of dirt scattered across the wooden planks. Luckily, the tearoom didn’t have any carpet, so it would be easy to clean off a wood floor. I told myself I’d get to that soon enough.

Ruffled lace tiers of my white skirt bunched together as they slid down my thighs. Their usual formation of a bell shape as I stood couldn’t be upheld when I was on the floor. Each tier was with a different design embroidered onto them. I had hand stitched the pattern onto a bobbinet tulle to create the first one. Although not technically laced to be considered true lace, machine made net rather than needle made grounds, my needlerun stitching made it into a limerick lace. My limp hair was flat on the floor underneath me. I didn’t mind getting it dirty when I could just shake or brush it out. My back rose a tad from the wood to pull my hair out from beneath. From under my neck, my hands swept and reached as far out as I could. The platinum strands now stretched themselves almost three feet from my head. Suddenly having the back of my neck uncovered made me feel squeamish. My hair dragged over the planks to slump down my back as I sat up.

“Thank you, sun.”

As bright as under the covers while hiding your face, the room gave way to darkness as the kitchen had. I fluffed my hair to bring some life into it. Loose strands took some time to untangle from the thin silver chains draped from the corners of my barrette. I adjusted the green eye pendant made from emerald colored glass and diamond inlay silver enamel. My skirt did not have any dirt to fall while dusting it off. I wished the dolls a good evening and rushed to enjoy the last few seconds I had of this time of day left. At the entrance of the living room, I hopped through the doors that were kept open as could be and took a spot in the chaise lounge before the far window. Peering at the trees and smog, my imagination took liberties deciphering the silhouettes in the distance. Maybe some of them weren’t trees? I could see a lamppost, or a pitchfork. Even a giant stick-bug creature made its shape partly clear with a tilted head. I never read about an urban legend like that, but there was already so much possibility for stuff beyond the books! The white lace curtains were scratchy against my fingers as I brushed them out of the way. Looking side to side, to my left I saw a trellis built up against the house. Trellises give opportunity for flowers to stretch to greater heights, though this one carried ivy which branches stretched past the diamond-patterned lattice. It grew tall, but not enough that it grew over my bedroom window.

Sleeping in a different bed hadn’t seemed so overwhelming until now. There was a new room unfamiliar to my routine, and I’ll be sleeping there tonight. I was excited about the experience but dreaded being all alone. I’ve only ever slept by myself, that was not new, but no one else would be there under this roof with me too. Though I could not see it, I knew my nose had turned red as heat swelled in the inner corners of my eyes. Only inhaling, my breaths were timed with sniffles which took in but didn’t let anything out. The contestant sniffing was too much. I pinched my nose and squeezed my eyes. The steam under my lids became worse, but I held tight. I was such a messy crier, and I couldn’t cry when I decided to be here.

The sobbing was not for the loss of those I never had, but for the end of an era of hoping that it could’ve gotten better. I wasn’t a kid anymore, as much as I wanted to still be. My graduation from my mom’s university had made the end of that chapter clear. Light flickered through the trees, as its end was near too. No sun to highlight the leaves, dulled was the scene. The last bit of life was surrounded by a dark green. I felt at even my young age that I was being timed— my seconds to become someone of importance were running out. Simple wishes on dandelions of being important to just a friend seemed as if they’d never grow into reality. I sometimes wished my hope would finally die. Isolation, I thought, would help me to become less needing of other people. A tear trickled down the curve of my cheek and rested under my chin. I let go of the grip on my nose to wipe it away.

Turning around from leaning on the back of the chair, my knees untucked from the crease between the backing and the pillowed seat. Trunks and branches of trees were left only black silhouettes. There were no small details to get immersed in. Besides surroundings, personal projects prevented me from thinking too much. A bag of small canvases with pieces begun and kept in the same first stages of creation was upstairs. My sketchbook was also up there, inside my backpack. I would like to work on all of them, and so I've avoided working on any because I couldn’t decide. Wheat colored and rectangular, the rug I crossed was centered in the room but didn’t cover the whole perimeter. It was placed under the cabriole sofa to frame a little seating section, but the rest of the floor exposed the panels underneath.

Going up stairs with a faster pace than down, I bounced from step to step. I wondered how many I could jump over at once. Testing myself with little goals helps me stay out of my head. Hopping over two, I was satisfied for today. Gradual improvement is better than putting too grand expectations on myself. Though, I have pushed myself to hold my breath in the tub for two minutes and forty-nine seconds. That was my best time in a consistent record beating that only I know of. The bathroom was just before where I stood at the top of the staircase. Hand on the wall, a little click emerged from the lightswitch. My motivation was as dim as the hall now was, having the light above the stairs turned off. Tomorrow will be a better day for a bath.

“Thank you house, thank you trees, thank you fog,..”

Chilled blankets on the bed were as fluffy and plush as marshmallow frosting. Reaching over the edge of the bed, I pulled up from the floor the scrunched socks I had littered there before. Rolling them up over my knee, I sat at the front of the bed and quickly slipped them back on. Momentum pulled me down into the comforter’s embrace.

My voicing of gratitude to things which could not hear was not something commonly done, but if I don’t say it out loud, they wouldn’t feel how much I appreciate them. I didn’t want to take anything for granted. It was especially in the moments of extreme luck when I had the need to declare it. Lucky was the word to summarize my finding of this property. Pulling out my phone from my pocket, I tried to place it on the bedside table next to me. My arm was too short, so I had to flip over to slip it on the wooden surface. With my index finger, I typed out a goodnight text to mom and dad and turned without shutting it off. The subtle blue glow on the ceiling served as a temporary nightlight.

A comment on a blog seems so small, but that was how I was led here. Searching for any reading material on Plainwood, as limited as it was, I stumbled upon a supernatural blog full of exaggerated journalings. Though, I would read anything about Plainwood because of how fascinating the stories were and how it was close enough to be in the same state as me. The comment on the Plainwood entry specifically was a link to buy this house on this hidden website which didn’t pop up on normal search engines. It was like finding a pirate’s secret treasure chest, but on the internet! I had done much digging myself. United States of Supernatural Occurrences; Northeast Edition only made a passing and nameless mention of the town until it went on to describe more commercial places near NYC and Long Island. That book itself was obscure, so I understood when more recognized titles hadn’t known of an overlooked nowhere land.

“Thank you cold, thank you autumn. Thank you.”

A final thanks to anything I might have missed, I ended myself off with an undirected thank you before I drifted away to dreamland. Socks and clothes still on, I lay over the covers so fabrics couldn’t rub against each other. The socks will keep my toes from any freeze. Looking out the window, the sky was not completely black from the clouds spread over above. Their bumps, thick like soap foam, gave some dimension. Mossy tinted skies eased over shadow hidden evergreen, burgundy and marmalade trees. My gaze turned away with my head, and slowly my eyes shut too. I fell asleep to the patter of hail.

[waitingforsecretsouls]

Traumerei & Zahard (Pt. 3)

This time focused on the Zahard & Traumerei dynamic for real, but of course drawing and building on the previous parts. As with previous reblogs, spoiler warning up to #638 of the Tower of God Webtoon.

Under the cut for length as usual:

As mentioned in the very beginning, it was the dynamic between Zahard and Traumerei that prompted me to write this whole thing in the first place, basically in order to explain and somewhat explore for myself my perspective on them and their relationship dynamic (and said dynamic specifically, hence no deep - dive into Traumerei's character itself). I already complained copiously about the overtly sinister bent fanon tends to give this relationship, which imo is a genuine misunderstanding of its presentation and place in the narrative.

So, here goes!

3. Zahard and Traumerei

I initially wanted to start this as a direct continuation of last parts end, with contrasting Enkiud flashbacks Traumerei's attitude towards Zahard with the one towards the rest of the invitees, but let's do this chronologically.

There is no doubt that Traumerei was close to Zahard on his part from early on, as previously showcased in the Gustang part: Traumerei is solving what appears like the GW's first of many to come human trolley problems, and choses to save Zahard and Gustang's lives, as :

"As you guys know...I---do not like..people very much. But...I do like you guys" (Traumerei, #631)

Overlaid with a panel of Zahard and Gustang, who also continue to feature as his most significant and only truly showcased and explores relationships in the rest of the narrative.

He is further showcased as close to Zahard in this stage of life, minor details though they may be on their own, as the #632 flashback depicts him sitting next to Zahard at the campfire

(Tower of God #632)

, and specifically shown intervening in a Zahard (and Yirang) involved altercation with his developing perfectionist attitude "as mistakle after mistake and sacrifice after sacrifice was made, Traumerei began to obsessively reduce the number of mistakes he made." ("Just look at them!" "They're..certainly standing next to each other" on its own, but contributing to an overarching trend of emphasizing Traumerei's consistent close association with Zahard even from early on)

So, with these recent flashbacks, it turns out that Traumerei truly had always been close to Zahard in particular (and while we don't get Zahard's perspective, I see no reason to suspect he wouldn't have reciprocated. Going by what we know about young Zahard and Traumerei respectively, I furthermore thinks it's perfectly natural that they'd end up vibing, the adventurer and the beast tamer. But this is, admittedly, more of a personal opinion. I could still bombard you with screenshots, don't worry! Maybe rather in another post though, since I've got to save image space)

With which we come to the huge turning point that was the sealing of the 135th floor. I mentioned it multiple times, but it's really just that important to the way everything truly fell apart and we get into the more overt and strongly depicted aspects of the Traumerei and Zahard relationship and association.

I mentioned last part how hugely incisive it was to Traumerei's mindset, cementing his resolve to keep the gate sealed in revenge for the senseless murder of his Shinheu, and no doubt something we see in the Amizu confrontation still:

(Tower of God #620. And for the potential naysayers claiming Traumerei is just being a dick in that first part, I'd like to direct you to one of my previous posts on the issue)

As I mentioned previously, it's in the immediate aftermath of that incident that we see the contrast between the Traumerei-Gustang and Traumerei-Zahard relationship and what's part of their inverse development (Traumerei and Gustang growing more distant, Traumerei and Zahard growing closer).

One of the reasons I absolutely love #630 - aside from the general fact of good Traumerei content, a Zahard appearance in the form of a major interaction with Traumerei, AND good Gustang comeuppance- is that it directly spells out in Traumerei's internal flashbacks what I'm rambling on and on about to try and convey, the definite shift of Zahard>Gustang to Traumerei, centered around their different reactions and consolations of Traumerei in the wake of the first betrayal after sealing the 135th floor. I'm probably gonna invest a LOT of the available image space for this, but given just how crucial it is to my main point, it's worth it I think (only the Zahard conversation though, since you already got the main gist of the Gustang flashback last part):

(Tower of God #630)

Because just look at it! While it's main effect when reading the whole chapter lies in ist structure and place therein - "I only need you guys. I won't be lonely" from Traumerei @ Gustang -> "WE have/WE shouldn't/WE are now" from Zahard @ Traumerei -> "I won't be lonely anymore even if you are no longer here" from Traumerei @ Gustang, killing him as part of the proxy war on Zahard's behalf - it's still an absolutely incredible scene in its own right (I may be biased as a Zahard and Traumerei fan in particular though, I'll admit).

I mentioned it several times prior, but this is truly...Everything Traumerei likely wanted to hear but didn't get from the previous Gustang scene. "Revenge is pointless" vs. "We are the ones who get to determine right and wrong (and don't have anything to feel guilty for)." Where Gustang stoof with his hands in his pockets and talked to Traumerei's back, Zahard reaches for Traumerei's hand in a gesture of solidarity and support. Where Gustang chastises Traumerei and tells him that his rage-fuelled desire for revenge is pointless and not a viable option, Zahard sanctions Traumerei's actions implicitly, emphasizing their shared emotional development, burdens, experiences and shared position as "nature and laws of the Tower", as Traumerei will later proclaim to Bam.

Now, we don't actually now when exactly in the nebulous timeline this lies: it might be shortly following the slaughter of Traumerei's Shinheuh. It might be following the Amizu incident. Heck, it might be following the first war against F.U.G., or a as of yet unmentioned revenge spree against Towerborn. It might not be specifically related to any of these events. But what matters is that it is specifically placed as a contrast against the previous Gustang and Traumerei scene, serving as the lead-up to Traumerei declaring he no longer cares about Gustang as he watches his severed head topple towards the ground.

I also doubt that whis was intended as premeditated manipulation from Zahard's side of things, since there's as of yet no reason to doubt that what he espouses to Traumerei is his genuine opinion. Zahard was one of the primary drivers of the early disregard for Towerborn as legitimite people, no doubt related to the violent backlash for sealing floor 135th (for which I think he'd feel both most responsibility, potentially guilty and definitely angry, since he was the Great Warrior's leader. The comrades he was not only closest to but in a way responsible for, from whom "he received lots of trust" (see the blogpost screenshot in part 1) got violently traumatized in no doubt several different flavours (I refuse to believe that Traumerei's Shinheu and Traumerei were the only ones affected by the violence), and he seemingly couldn't do anything to prevent it. Despite the GW's custom of taking majority vote decisions, it would also have been his ultimate responsibility of choice that led to these events, given said position as leader):

(Tower of God #616)

Though as I speculated in tags prior, its left ambiguous to us whether this was Zahard specifically talking about Amizu, in which case her all but known "Grace" associations might have played their part in his opinion, since I've previously speculated that the perpetrators of the backlash for the sealing of the gate might have been the Towerborn progenitors of F.U.G., or at the very least a majority of V and Arlene's initial followers, which would add another reason for the already severe rift between the factions by the time of the Enkidu flashback and immediate and irreversible exile for anyone associated with them, OR a more general statement about the validity (or rather lack thereof) of Towerborn people as a whole.

It is following their decision to settle in the Tower itself that Traumerei and Zahard started to collaborate noticeably close, especially in contrast to the way the rest of the group began to drift apart and rarely see each other, as noted by Gustang:

(Tower of God #616)

(I can't help pointing out that the fantranslation I read back in the day had it reversed, with Traumerei interacting more with Zahard than anyone else. I suppose it doesn't really matter, and I'm just hypersensitive to the vibes it might give people about the fanon I vehemently disagree with, of Zahard basically grooming Traumerei into his confidant, rather than Traumerei doing all that because he genuinely wants to support Zahard out of his own, unforced, volition, since they're friends and all that)

Traumerei goes on to defend Zahard's reputation to Gustang, with:

"Even if there is, I'm not obliged to tell you. Everything Zahard does is for our sake. So don't fight him about every little thing...And that includes the selection of Princesses. One I'm all settled in my new home, I'll try to have kids of my own." "I don't understand what you see in that guy's bizarre ideas." (Traumerei and Gustang, #616)

Aside from confirming Zahard as the one who came up with the Princess System rather than Gustang (a popular former fanon I'm guilty of having perpetuated in the past myself- and I'm saying fanon since Gustang is only ever mentioned as progenitor of the system in the explicitly fake cover story Garam tells to Bam and then reveals as a lie: this had lead to people, myself included, simply taking across the Gustang mention into the true telling as well, where with his additional knowledge one might now see that actually Zahard was actually already explicitly mentioned as its true creator in Garam's story), and being one of the many, many, many instances of Traumerei defending Zahard's reputation in absentia and speaking positively of him in general (I made a little compilation of it prior), this scene is the first instance within the flashback itself of Traumerei and Zahard cooking up something unknown to all other of their GW comrades and working noticeably close together, with Traumerei aware of this fact and refusing to elaborate, simply deflecting with the answer that Gustang doesn't need to know, since whatever it is (he and) Zahard are working on is for everyones sake.

But before we get back to their secret project, a moment to look at the emotional components of Traumerei's closeness w Zahard in the flashback: Traumerei just declared that he didn't care overly much about their group drifting apart, and as shown in the previous reblog, wasn't overly enthused about the reunion at his housewarming party either, which contrast starkly with not only the previous screenshot about Traumerei and Zahard seeing each other frequently, but also Traumerei's disappointment that Zahard, whom he wanted to see most of all, wouldn't be able to attend, noticably only resigning himself to reluctantly join the party once he's notified of Zahard's confirmed absence:

(Tower of God #618)

Safe to say that this is a marked difference to his rather indifferent and in Edahn's case even slightly annoyed reaction to his other oldest comrades attending and the concept of the party on its own (doesn't like it, only doing it because he wants a big audience for his proposal to Amizu).

Amizu once again brings up the mysterious secret project of Traumerei and Zahard, as one of her main reasons for deciding it's impossible for her to stay with Traumerei any longer after he'd hearkened back to her initial promise of "staying forever":

(Tower of God #620)

It doesn't feel like an overexaggeration to say that Traumerei's closeness to Zahard starts to work to the exclusion of all his other relationships at this point- in this instance, it's the ultimate reason Amizu gives for being unable to stay with Traumerei any longer, despite her genuine love for him (combined with the several other instances in the selfsame flashback of Traumerei invoking Zahard and his statements, always to the effect of denying Amizu's worth and rights as an individual person and contributing to his treatment of her as more of a possession than his future spouse).

(I wouldn't be surprised if said "what you're doing in that new house of yours, and what you and Jahad want" turns out to be related to the whole "Red Light District" plot, especially with Traumerei as the expert in humanoid experimentation and bioengineering he's been depicted as, but at this point that's still pure speculation)

While we're severly lacking on details for the time period afterwards, we do know that eventually open war between Arlene and V's faction and Zahard, eventually involving the other Family Heads, breaks out, with V and Arlene attempting to gain the key from Zahard (another instance where, yes, what Traumerei did was objectively framing V, but fandom perspective really overexaggerates his ultimate culpability for the war. Traumerei very much was not the nucleus that started it all. V and Arlene and everyone associated with them had already become persona non grata to the Family Heads prior, the Family Heads had made the choice to seal the gate and subsequently erase their memeories themselves, the fact that they were willing to believe V would do something like what Enkidu "confessed" to speaks for itself, and for as long as V and Arlene wanted to get the key from Zahard, who wanted to keep the gate sealed there always would have been a war. Garam herself states that it was V and Arlene who declared war. I don't even particularly care about this in regards to debating the Great Warrior's morality, as if "who started it" would be the be all end all argument, but we do in fact have that factual information available).

What we do know is that at some point Traumerei himself was involved in fighting this war:

(Tower of God #635)

Since I think we can all agree it would be unlikely for Traumerei to have gotten involved with one of his strongest Shinheu only after V and Arlene as fellow Irregular level opponents were already out of the picture in Genesis (where we already see him delegating to his sons even in matters of revenge for his early descendants) this presumably refers to the original war with Arlene and V. And since Traumerei was already notably close with Zahard, closer than any other Family Head, it makes perfect sense that he might have thrown down personally, and probably as an early supporter, either against V and Arlene specifically, or in the mentioned "conflicts" among the Family Heads before they eventually all sided with Zahard.

(Tower of God #320)

The next glimpse we get, chronologically, of Zahard and Traumerei cooperating, is during Yasratcha's flashback, included in the "big wars" Yasratcha mentioned him and Wangwang gaining experience in after their adoption into the Lo Po Bia family and potentially still included in the time period of "after a great war had ended [...] the aftermath of the war was still continuing" (Tower of God #526) Yasratcha gives at the beginning of his flashback.

Lo Po Bia forces are cooperating with Zahard forces in order to subdue the ancient Akrinac, with Zahard paying a brief visit in holographic form:

(Tower of God #526)

While obviously far smaller in scale than the present day proxy war. this shows that Traumerei continued to be Zahard's go-to for military related cooperative undertakings and their continued close association past the first war (all the way up to the present day).

(Compare "Long time no see"/"It's been a while" (dep. on translation) with forgetting that he even had Gustang's contact information)

(As a side note, killing and otherwise messing around with ancients sure seems like it was one of Traumerei's hobbies, between this and the Enkidu flashback, huh. Even if, like in most anything else, he switched to delegating as time went on)

It's in the lead-up to the nest that we get out first in-story but chronolgically most recent Zahard and Traumerei interaction. In it, they discuss Gustang's recent declaration and perparations fo conflict, with Traumerei ultimately accepting the proposal to take up a proxy war in the Zahard families stead against Poe Bidau, in exchange for adopting Bam into his family as his heir, to use against Gustang.

I mentioned this conversation previously, with regards to Traumerei's begign intentions behind his "condition" as something meant specifically to turn Bam from a "thorn" against Zahard into an asset against his opponents instead, and Zahard's emotional rection to it, so I won't repeat myself on that front, except to reiterate that I see it as a genuine moment of some sort of sentiment from Zahard that briefly takes him aback.

(Tower of God #551)

Apart from that, we get Zahard inquiring after Traumerei's personal assesment of Bam, allowing him the prime position to "test" him for his potential (which is in line with Zahard's own statement to his data: "If that boy is truly qualified to have this, he'll appear before me again someday"). We have Traumerei pre - emptively offering to rescind that desire if Zahard didn't want him to act on it, but is not only granted permission and encouragement but nearly command to do so (based on Traumerei's stated desire, not as a preconceived notion of Zahard's, mind you).

Throughout this entire conversation Traumerei is more open that we've seen him with anyone else, most of all towards the conversations end, where Zahard inquires after Traumerei's nightmares (meaning they definitely came up in conversation between the two before, which is in line with the #630 conversation between them that's also touching on some intimate emotional experiences) to which Traumerei readily and in detail responds:

"By the way, how are your nightmares? Do you still not remember them?" "Yeah. They're definitely nightmares, but I can't remember what they're about when I wake up. I definitely threw that memory away to Leviathan...But why does it keep haunting me? I don't know anymore..Just who was it, and what kind of memory was it to torment me so much." (Zahard and Traumerei, Tower of God #551)

It's difficult to picture Traumerei opening up like this to anyone else currently alive (that we know of). I also find it unlikely that Zahard asked this as some sort of insidious check-up rather than out of genuine concern. Traumerei was the one bringing up his nightmares first in the conversation, as seen in the screenshots immediately above, Zahard is seemingly simply following up on that out of personal concern once the business talk has concluded.

I think it's fitting that I concluded the analysis with this scene, the first one we as readers got directly between Zahard and Traumerei, and one already exemplifying everything I've tried to argue in this reblog chain in some measure.

Going back to my initial propopsed "thesis", which went as follows:

The defining aspect of Zahard and Traumerei's relationship, built on a basis of genuine comradery and mutual support between the two, shows Zahard as the only Great Warrior so far who actually expects things from Traumerei (or to paraphrase, who, in however limited a form you want to argue, places his faith in him). We see Zahard confide in him, console him, and entrust vital tasks to him, to the exclusion of all their other comrades; not only as the first comrade Zahard turns to in the present day story (in what's Outside Zahard's technical debut), but also a long way back in the past, before the first war with F.U.G. even broke out.

I hope I managed to convey this impression of mine somewhat ordered and comprehensively, hope whoever managed to work through these long posts had a fun read and thank you for you attention for all those who might do so.

Traumerei & Zahard (Pt. 1)

(Tower of God #580)

We're far enough along in Traumerei's character and the depiction of his relationships to other Family Heads now that I feel confident in trying to analyze them a little more in depth, beyond meme edits or brief speculations in the tags of said memes, with a focus on doing this mainly in comparison and contrast to his relationship to Zahard as this posts main focus, highlighted as his most prominent and defining one from well before Traumerei's actual introduction.

Warning: This will include spoilers up to roughly #638 of the Tower of God Webtoon, and in part draw on SIU's blogposts of published chapters of the Hidden Floor arc. Under the cut for length.

My Thesis Statement: The defining aspect of Zahard and Traumerei's relationship, built on a basis of genuine comradery and mutual support between the two, shows Zahard as the only Great Warrior so far who actually expects things from Traumerei (or to paraphrase, who, in however limited a form you want to argue, places his faith in him). We see Zahard confide in him, console him, and entrust vital tasks to him, to the exclusion of all their other comrades; not only as the first comrade Zahard turns to in the present day story (in what's Outside Zahard's technical debut), but also a long way back in the past, before the first war with F.U.G. even broke out.

I'll try to structure this into three segments (and going by the likely amount of screenshots, probably a reblog chain rather than one self - contained post as I had hoped):

Zahard and the Family Heads

Traumerei and the Family Heads

Zahard and Traumerei

1. Zahard and the Family Heads

The first thing I'm going to argue for this purpose is Zahard's sentiments towards his old Irregular companions. Contrary to what seems like a popular opinion in fandom, that the present day Zahard views them as means to an end exclusively, devoid of any kind of positive or emotional sentiment at all, I actually think it's the opposite, and that he would have a far easier time, strategically speaking, if he did view them in this indifferent manner.

1.1 Zahard and Self

I feel like the origin of this perspective of Zahard as a purely cold, ruthless and calculating mastermind stems from his treatment of the Hidden Floor, where he collaborated with his data to first segregate the data of the Great Warriors into the hidden hidden floor, and then delete them.

My main argument against the validity of this would be, first of all, that the recorded data of their past selfs are very much not equivalent to their Outside, real selves, and that it would be perfectly natural for Outside Zahard to not hold the same feelings for them as their "real" versions.

Secondly, I feel like people really overplay the extent to which Zahard manipulated his data self in this: Yes, we have Zahard sport a malicious grin when he reveals data Zahard's ignorance of events on the Outside, and declares him as a "poor thing", "a fake me":

(Tower of God #386)

However, what this scene itself confirms it that 1) data Zahard likely only got forcibly edited (and only regarding these specific memories) when Bam asked him about Arlene, since "their names" is unlikely to refer to Edahn, with whom he converses perfectly fine and in a familiar manner and thus likely to refer exclusively to Arlene and V, who were erased from offcial history on the Outside as well (and whom Zahard likely sometimes wishes he could edit out of his own memories as easily as in data Zahard's case).

This is basically all but confirmed in the beginning of #368:

and 2), that Zahard has a rather nostalgic side, considering that he harboured the wish to leave the remnant of his young and optimistic self in the world in any form at all.

We also get from data Zahard himself that he helped Outside Zahard of his own volition, in a scene that's arguably centered around the Outside Zahard's strong emotions:

(Tower of God #387)

The emotions in said case being "anxiety" and fear, but still ultimately serving to demonstrate that Zahard is far from limited to the stoic and ice - cold killer we saw in his words to and subsequent treatment of Bam immediately prior, something concluded in his decision to honor his young self's wish for Bam to reawaken his passion as he did for said data self, despite the fact that said data was already in the irrevocable process of being erased from existence, lacking crucial information about Bam and his current Outside self.

(Tower of God #388)

(Note that this is AFTER Zahard noted "That really is a power that desires the abilities of God" about the Second Thorn Fragment, about whose origin and purpose he would know, as well as a multitude of potentials regarding Bam's origin and "fate". That is not the kind of choice someone robotically calculating the best possible outcomes and most ruthless way to get there would make, much less at the prompting of a soon to be deleted "fake me" he truly held either nothing but contempt or no emotional connection to at all, one he might easily have deleted outright).

Also, I didn't quite know where to bring it up, but I'll also mention that there is no immediate correlation between the data of the Great Warriors entering the "Hidden Hidden Floor" and being automatically deleted. As data Edahn reveals, they were tired of their existence as data, and followed Zahard knowing there might have been something fishy about his mirror from his Outside self. For all we know, they might have been deleted upon explicit request, similar to the data of Yura's and Hwang's bodies mother, somewhat detracting from data and Outside Zahard as ruthless killers and deceivers in that particular matter:

(Tower of God #386)

But all of this has been very centered around Zahard and his interactions with his own past self, so when am I going to get to his relationships to the other Family Heads?

Well, this segment was important in and of itself for getting there, demonstrating that Outside Zahard is not an unfeeling robot but actually fairly sentimental, and will alter his course based on the considerations of people close to him whom he respects (even in ways that are arguably highly disadvantageous to his own continued well-being), even if in this instance said person was a version of himself, which still serves its own purpose of demonstrating a senitmentality regarding his younger days, back when he and his comrades where comparatively unburdened and driven young adults climbing the Tower together.

1. 2 Zahard and the Family Heads

(Blogpost Season 2 Episode 292)

In light of the abovementioned arguments, I don't think Zahard purposefully sawed of all connections to his old comrades because he no longer cared about them, but rather that he still values these relationshop above nearly everything else, and distanced himself because he though that was what was his duty as their leader and a "KIng", about which he developed something of a complex, in case you didn't notice.

Introduced in his data self of course (I promise, we'll leave the Hidden Floor after this one):

(Tower of God #365)

This mindset smells of Outside Zahard, and comes specifically after Bam mentions Arlene's name, which we have establish to have been one of the primary "triggers" installed into data Zahard. I also feel like the following "What do I look like to you now? A human being? Or a monster?" might reveal another sad aspect of Zahard's current self-image/conception, but I' ll have to restrain myself with the images if I want to be able to at least conclude the Zahard and Family Heads portion in this posts image limit).

In another form, we get this in Traumerei's (but truly, Enkidu's and Gustang's) recent flashback arc, specifically #618:

But since I'll have to save many of these more recent points for Traumerei's portion of the post lest I needlessly repeat myself, I think it's enough to conclude this with the observation that at least part of what drove Zahard to change his mindset and become the solitary figure he is in the present day story was a feeling of responsibilty, acting according to their stations, soaring far above anyone else in the Tower, an expectation he extended to his comrades.

As Kallavan said, With Great Power comes Great Responsibility, and all that:

(Tower of God #477)

And we do see Zahard explicitly consider the Family Heads in the big decisions/doesn't simply overrule them, such as involving Bam:

(Tower of God #539)

We as readers know that Zahard and Traumerei had their private conversation prior to the Nest that probably truly determined what happened wrt Bam, but if anything this just strengthens my point, since Zahard explicitly allowed Traumerei to do as he wished.

(Tower of God #551)

(The reason I included the panel with Zahard's reaction is that I find it very interesting and important to the point I'm making. I don't have a conclusive opinion, but to me he appears almost taken aback by Traumerei's answer. Because remember, Traumerei's answer here is his reveal of the "condition" under which he'd take up Zahard's proxy war against the Poe Bideau family. That's quite a selfless "condition", or at the least purpose for said condition, to place, so I might well imagine that Zahard was taken aback by the lengths Traumerei would go to, specifically for him. Even in a more cynical reading, this is still Zahard allowing Traumerei to recruit himself a second Irregular into his family (the one he may know is considered as destined to kill him) and therefore also showing a certain degree of trust wrt that. But more on their relationship in particular in the eventual concluding part of this post)

Last but not least (arguably the opposite), we also have what may be the implication of Zahard as the one who gave the Great Warriors access to their famous Imortality Contracts, or at the very least having done something to make Traumerei regard him as the main cause behind their current positions and perpetual longevity of said positions:

"From the moment we got to the top, the only choice we had was to fall or not. But Zahard has given us a way to avoid falling forever. Only now that we have defied the laws of the Tower have we become beings who will never fall."

(Traumerei, Tower of God #632)

So while I'll certainly agree that we don't have many direct interactions between Zahard and the Family Heads, he does leave them free room to act with the only stipulation basically not to declare war on him, and doesn't brute force his own choices over theirs. He is very lenient (so far) even in regards to the Family Head who has broken this one rule, and has shown considerable respect for Traumerei's opinions and plans. Furthermore, he may well have ensured or enabled the Family Heads current hax, for which I would find it difficult to see another reason than wanting to keep them with him.

While there is a very interesting conversation to be had about Zahard and Gustang (and whether Zahard was aware of Gustang's preservation of the Thorn and Floor of Death all the way back or not), it's worth pointing out that Zahard's order to destroy Gustang's family (something we now know Gustang himself desires) only occured as part of his three orders, and Gustang himself is not targeted by default.

Basically, I haven't seen anything so far that convinced me of the "Zahard doesn't care about the Family Heads anymore" stance.

And with that out of the way, I'll move on to Traumerei's relationships to the other Family Heads depicted so far (who thankfully does have some more actual interactions with them).

(And again, a point I didn't know where else to fit in in which only occured to me towards the end of this post: I do think it's noteworthy that Outside Zahard does adress data Edahn as a avalid representation of Outside Edahn, to the point of not considering that he may hold differing sentiments from Outside Edahn wrt his relationship with data Zahard. Which goes against one of my first points, that Zahard may have drawn a sharp line between the datas and Outside selves, but supports my main points even better:

(Tower of God #386))

[seyaryminamoto]

Fic-to-Art #25: A decade-long journey with Sokka and Azula

Yep. I can't believe it's been a full decade either, but here we are. Ten years later and it feels like it was yesterday, almost.

On this month on Patreon, I figured I'd just make a larger sort of tribute to my long journey as a fic writer. I've had ups and downs, big moments and small, but ultimately, that I've had the chance to be here for as many years as I have is certainly a privilege, and one I don't take for granted.

I've met lots of great people because of my participation in this fandom, particularly in the Sokkla community. I've honestly made some of the best friends I've ever known through the past ten years. I've graduated from university, I've grown in many ways as a person, artist and writer, something that kid right out of high school would have never imagined possible when she first set out on this journey with zero clue of how far it would take her, and how important this would be for her in the years to follow.

After all this time, it feels like the red string of fate from The Reason has woven itself through all my stories afterwards, resulting in a very curious relationship between all these stories and the one that started it all. I mean, technically it was OoPB that started everything X'D but The Reason is by far the flagship of that particular setting. I haven't even revisited those stories in forever, but I really am glad that I did it for this particular purpose.

Alright then, if you would like the specifics regarding which story is being referenced (in case you don't know), keep reading!

The Reason, the source of the red string that then spills down into the rest of the artworks!

Gladiator Part 1, the handshake that started it all.

It Had To Be You, their unintentional first date!

Gladiator Part 2... this is honestly just a general thematic Sokkla make-out session, which as we know they were very likely to do throughout Part 2 x'D

The Love Advisor, reading a book together for the first time.

The White Lotus International Games, their rejoicing after they rushed their finals to watch each other winning at their competitions.

Matching Heartbeats... I picked the Yakuza AU as a reference to this one because people really missed it this year. But DAMN did those tattoos kick my ass to kingdom come, most difficult part of this entire mini project x'D

Underneath Starlit Skies, I picked the final scene of the Happy Family prompt because I couldn't decide on a better scene from any of the other prompts that year hahaha.

Leap of Faith, here I chose my personal favorite story from this year, Toph matchmaking Sokka and Azula, with Sokka in his councilman outfit and Azula in her ambassador attire.

Gladiator Part 3... spoilersssssss!

Alas, it was crazy to work on a project like this one on relatively short notice and pull it off regardless. I did know I wanted to do something like this, should the chance arise, and it kinda did? So I'm really glad I could finish it, maybe not exactly on time (two days late actually), but still within this month, haha.

I really hope you guys enjoy this massive piece, thank you to everyone who has been supporting me for the last decade, whether those who have been here all along, those who have only come by my work recently, as well as those who come and go. That my stories have touched anyone's lives is a miracle to me, and one I won't ever stop cherishing.

Thank you for ten years of Sokka and Azula <3

(... and as ever, feel free to join my Patreon too if you would like to do so...)

[aba-daba-dooo]

@gf10yearslaterzine

I want to take a moment to talk about my favorite quote. Because this was a prompt I specifically chose so that I could talk about it.

It’s one of the hidden codes from Dipper’s and Mabel’s Guide to Mystery and Non Stop FunIt caught me at the height of my fandom obsession, nay, it was the thing that made me the paranoid viewer Alex wanted:

“you are like me now. We are part of a higher calling. We will meet one day and on that glorious day we will show the small-minded doubters we were right all along, and are also really cool, and they should have been nicer to us.”

Coming from Dipper it was so vindictive. The fan theories, mine included, went wild. But I also found something oddly comforting about it. Like I wasn’t alone. Some how this isolating pain I felt, desperate to find and prove myself all at once— it was real.

I find myself repeating this phrase like a mantra “you are like me now”. I’m secure enough in my cringey-ness to admit I used it as a basis for some poetry in college, and that I am considering getting a tattoo. But as time has passed, I realize that the comfort comes not just from feeling acknowledged or that maybe righteous fury had a place and time— it comes from the understanding of fandom itself.

Not to get poetic and or scholarly, but these characters only live because we allow it. They have power and meaning to you because they live in you. When you breathe, they breathe too. “You are like me now” is not a vindictive statement. It is stories weaving themselves into our DNA. And that higher calling— yeah it’s the collective experience of love and celebration and identity that fandom brings us.

Sure, I’m taking some liberties with the context. But I think this quote never made its reappearance for a reason— because the meaning lies with us now. (Or Alex and team totally forgot about it…)

Let’s keep solving mysteries together.

[whumptober]

Whumptober 2020 - Updated

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

No 11. PSYCH 101 Defiance | Struggling | Crying

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Alternate Prompt List

Alt 1. Punctured

Alt 2. Falling

Alt 3. Comfort

Alt 4. Stitches

Alt 5. Stoic Whumpees

Alt 6. Altered States

Alt 7. Found Family

Alt 8. Adverse Reactions

Alt 9. Memory Loss

Alt 10. Nightmares

Alt 11. Presumed Dead

Alt. 12. Water

Alt. 13 Accidents

Alt. 14 Shot

Alt. 15 Carry/Support

Event Info

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

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

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

#whumptober2020 …..(the event tag)

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

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

#fandom or #OC

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Thanks for reading, and happy whumping!

Frequently Asked Questions

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

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

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

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

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

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

Q. Can I combine Whumptober with other creation challenges?

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

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

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

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

Yes

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

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

Q. What kind of characters can I write for?

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

Q. Can I use a prompt multiple times?

Yes,  but it only counts once

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

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

Q. Where can I post my work?

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

Q. Can I start posting early?

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

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

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

Q. Is co-writing allowed?

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

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

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

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

There is no limit

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

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

Q. Is a hc/angst focus ok?

Of course!

Q. What’s considered nsfw?

See this post

Q. What's whump?

See this post

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

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

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

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

Q. How do I tag triggers?

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

Q. Do I have to use your tags?

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

Q. Does combining prompts count towards completion?

Yes

Q. Can we @ you?

Yes but we mostly rely on the whumptober2020 tag

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

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

Q. Where can I go for brainstorming help?

Here on Discord

Q. My characters are minors, is that ok?

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

Q. Can I cross post on other blogs?

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

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