#welters challenge submission

[ratcarneymain]

Summer Break(bills)

Welters Challenge Submission!! 

Words: 1665

Summary: Eliot convinces Margo to stay with him at Brakebills for the summer vacation between first and second year. Margo tries to control her feelings for him, but a sudden blackout offers her a chance to act on them.

NOTE: I don’t ship them, I just enjoy writing Margo suffering over Eliot. Plus, we all know that this probably happened.

"I have literally no desire to live. That's how bored I am." Margo exhaled dramatically. "I can't believe I was persuaded to stay here with you all summer." She glared at Eliot. "We could have done something fun, but nooo--" "I just had to ruin everyone's summer and insist that my best friend stay with me during the break." Eliot smirked. "You're welcome, by the way." He took a drag on his cigarette so that grey swirls of smoke spilled from his lips with every word. He held his hand up and rubbed the tips of his index finger and thumb together. "Do you know what this is." He never truly seemed to raise the pitch of his voice to signify a question. Margo pressed her lips together to avoid laughing. "A tiny, tiny violin playing a sad song." Despite her effort, a laugh bubbled up around her words anyway. "Just for me."

"That's right." Eliot offered her his signature crooked grin. He had changed over the course of their first year, Margo observed. Grown into himself a little. He had gotten pretty fit, too--he was too thin before. Now it almost looked like there was more than just skin and bones on his frame. She pursed her lips. She had always had a bit of a crush on the tall boy, but now it was blossoming into something more intense. And it wasn't the kind of intense that she was used to. Margo didn't just want to fuck him, no. She wanted to love him. "I'm gasping." Margo groaned breathily, pushing down her thoughts. "Is there anything to drink?" Eliot laughed. "With me, there always is." He stood and stretched, almost touching the ceiling. Margo watched as he threw his head back to stretch his long neck and strode to the kitchen. "Merlot or Sauvignon?" He called. Margo smiled slyly. "Cocktail." She licked her lips, watching as Eliot sighed exasperatedly. He had already opened the wine cabinet, and seemed very annoyed at having to close it. "You drive a hard bargain, Margo Hanson." He snickered and made his way to the bar. "Like you would know about hard bargains, Eliot Waugh." She teased. "Mr. I'll-give-anyone-a-blowjob-for-exam-answers." "That was twice, and we passed, didn't we?" He made his voice high-pitched to imitate Margo. "Thanks, Eliot, for sucking some dick so that I can stay at the special magic school!" Eliot lowered his voice and glared at Margo. "You never did thank me, princess." Margo laughed. "Thanks, Eliot, for sucking some dick so that I can stay at the special magic school." She stood to rest her elbows on the bar. "And you know very well that I'm no princess." "My apologies, Queen Margo The Destroyer." Eliot dipped his head in a theatrical show of mock respect. "That's better." She laughed. Yes, alright, she had been kind of a bitch about having to stay with Eliot during the summer, but if the whole summer could be like this, she would be happy. And the whole summer was almost like that. Almost. They had been drinking, and the familiar heat of tipsiness washed over Margo like a lukewarm wave. She and Eliot were playing Push, a card game that was quite popular at Brakebills. Like all magician games (see Welters for example), it was hellishly complex, and drinking didn't help either of them comprehend the rules. The only people who knew the game well enough to win were the Finns, or fifth years, and that was only because they had been at it for five long years. "Wait, do I throw the card into the hat before or after reciting the suit and number in Old Church Slavonic?" Eliot furrowed his brow in confusion, the hand not holding a bottle of wine gravitating to his forehead to brush his dark curls out of his eyes. "Um." Margo tipped the contents of the wine bottle she held into her mouth. The alcohol felt good going down her throat, dulling her senses and ensuring that a warm, leafy branch of good feeling sprouted in her chest. "I dunno." "Well." Eliot announced. "We tried." He set his cards down, evidently uninterested in pursuing the game any further. Margo sighed contentedly, curling up on the couch next to him. "What time is it." She murmured. Eliot checked his watch. "8:45." He smiled. "The night is still young, my dear." "Let's watch a movie." Margo said. Eliot pursed his lips. "Sure. Why not. What movie?" Margo thought for a second. Maybe it was because of her intoxication, and maybe it was because Eliot was so damn distracting, but she said the first movie that popped into her head. "Bambi." She blurted. "Never took you for a Disney girl." Eliot smirked. "But Bambi it is." He got up and crossed to the shelf, picking out a movie with a big-eyed-deer on it. Popping it in the DVD player, he went back to Margo and allowed her to lay her head on his lap. Everything was going great. The deer were cute, the forest animals were chirpy, and the animation was subpar. Margo hadn't seen this movie in quite a long time, but a big warning sign flashed in her head. She knew what was coming next. She squeezed her eyes shut and held on to Eliot until the shot passed. "Someone's tense." Eliot observed. "What, did you have a particularly strong attachment to Bambi's mom that I didn't catch?" "Shut it, asshole." Margo smiled, slightly embarrassed at revealing her sensitivity. "She was a great mom." Eliot chuckled lightly, smiling down at Margo with his odd, twisted smile. "If you say so." They watched the rest of the movie in silence, each taking in the bright colors and choppy animations at their own paces. It wasn't an aesthetically pleasing movie, but it was relatively light and not very intellectually challenging. They enjoyed it. Once the credits rolled, Margo sat up. "What now?" She asked. Eliot opened his mouth to speak, but before he could say anything, the lights flickered and went out. Margo felt her hands grip the fabric of Eliot's dress shirt. He looked up nonchalantly. "Summer blackout." He assessed. "Nothing to freak out about, Bambi." He used the new nickname cautiously, with a hint of amusement chasing his words. Margo's hands relaxed so that they rested on Eliot's chest. "I hope that's not gonna stick." She snickered, but secretly, she hoped it did. They sat in the darkness for a while, each enjoying the silence of each other's company the way good friends do when they have surpassed the level of mere comfort and are venturing in near-familial territory. Not that that would stop Margo, of course. She was still in love with Eliot, but she felt like if she acted upon it, then everything would be fine the next day. Isn't that the dream. "Truth or dare." She said before she could stop herself. She couldn't see him that well, but Margo could tell that Eliot was rolling his eyes. "What are you, twelve?" He snickered. "Truth or dare, Eliot." Margo insisted. Hell, it's not like she could take it back. "Dare." Eliot stated clearly. Now was her chance. Margo inhaled slowly. "Kiss me." She murmured, moving closer to him. "You're drunk." Eliot narrowed his eyes. "So are you." Margo replied without missing a beat. "C'mon, El. Don't be a pussy." There was a pause. Margo was ready to give him a more appropriate dare when she felt soft lips crash into hers. Eliot cradled her jaw in his hands, carefully placing his thumbs on the apples of her warm cheeks. She had fantasized about this, sure, but she never knew that a gay guy would kiss so well. He pulled her close, and in that moment, she could forget that her love for him was unrequited. Margo's hands traveled the length of his collarbone, gently ghosting around his fragile neck. In return, he stroked her cheek with his thumb and lowered his other hand to firmly grasp her shoulder. His hands were cold despite the summer heat, and they sent a slight chill down her spine. It could have lasted seconds and it could have lasted years, but whatever it was was sweet and fiery and hot and passionate, passionate red. His lips were surprisingly soft and guaranteed to be smudged with her lipstick by the time they were done. At first it was just a kiss, but Margo parted her lips to allow Eliot's tongue to explore the inside of her mouth. He was uncharacteristically cautious, as if Margo was a glass figurine that he would break if he pressed her too hard or held her too carelessly. He held her close, so close that her breasts brushed his chest, so close that their hearts beat in unison, so close that each breath they took was synchronized. Finally, he pulled away, dropping his hands just as the light snapped back on, and the spell was broken. Margo panted softly, gazing at Eliot. He looked dazed and confused. he brought his fingers to his mouth to brush them against his lips, as if making sure that what just happened was actually real. Margo coughed, trying to play down her embarrassment. "What, I couldn't have been your first." She teased, tapping his nose playfully. "Well," He cleared his throat. "You were my first girl." His cheeks reddened, as if he were confessing something big. Margo laughed before she could stop herself. "How appropriate." She giggled. "You're my first gay." Eliot cupped Margo's cheek in his hand. "Never change, Bambi." He pressed one final kiss to her nose and smiled his signature crooked smirk.

[goddessjuliawicker]

The Welters Challenge Week Four - Crossovers

The Magicians meets Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Best Bitches discuss how to kill a God

@thewelterschallenge

[queennmargo]

2017 Welters Challenge:  Brakebills

“Everything about the world after Brakebills felt dangerously vague and under-thought to Quentin... Every ambition he'd ever had in his life had been realized the day he was admitted to Brakebills, and he was struggling to formulate a new one with any kind of practical specificity.” - Lev Grossman

[thewelterschallenge]

Check out these amazing Twitter submissions from @rfluvr27 on twitter! Margo and Eliot as foxes . . . you could say they’re . . . foxey!

[nemainofthewater]

Here’s my submission for the Welters Challenge Week One: The Library

@thewelterschallenge

Title: Every Human Thought

Rating: Gen

Summary: 

On March 31st 1831 Victor Hugo published a book in which he wrote: “Architecture has recorded the great ideas of the human race. Not only every religious symbol, but every human thought has a page in that vast book.”The Library knows that this is true. But it is also incomplete: it isn’t the architecture, the physical form of the building that gives the Library its power. It’s the life, and the belief that its inhabitants imbue in it that has nurtured and woken the Library’s magic. The Library isn’t a building. Or at least it isn’t only a building. The Library is the people.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18604741

[ao3feed-queliot]

Family

by NeverlandHeart

Quentin reflects on the love he feels on one of the most important days of his life. My submission for the welters challenge.

Words: 1345, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: The Magicians (TV)

Rating: Not Rated

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: Quentin Coldwater, Eliot Waugh, Julia Wicker, Margo Hanson, William "Penny" Adiyodi, Kady Orloff-Diaz, Alice Quinn, Josh Hoberman, Todd (The Magicians), Fen (The Magicians)

Relationships: Quentin Coldwater/Eliot Waugh

Additional Tags: Welters Challenge

read it on the AO3 at http://archiveofourown.org/works/14750081

[sadlittlenerdking]

Insanity

The Magicians, Quentin and Eliot - also, Quentin X Everybody

Word count: 3.1k

Summary: Quentin accidentally casts a love spell over the whole of Brakebills University. My submission for the Welters Challenge.

Sidenote : am very drunk so sorry for any typos or fuck ups

"Eliot..."

Quentin sits down on the couch and stares at him with wide eyes, until Eliot sighs and looks up at him. "What, Quentin? I'm busy."

Quentin makes a face because that's clearly not quite true but shakes his head because this is more important and Eliots the only one who hasn't lost his god damned mind. "I think everyone's gone insane," he nods erratically as if it emphasize the statement.

Eliot sighs again, leaning back on the couch with a roll of his eyes and a wave of his arm in a go on motion, "And how have they gone insane?"

"Well," Quentin kicks his lips, "Penny pushed me up against a tree this morning -,"

"Sounds pretty par for course, Q."

"-- and kissed me."

Eliot blinks three times in quick succession before nodding slowly. "Okay. So maybe he's trying to figure out if his hatred is really fueled by something deeper. Nothing too strange there."

"Okay..." Quentin nods slowly, "But then Sunderland hit on me after class. It was the history of brakebills lesson and afterwards she was all, 'Mr. Coldwater, a word?'"

"Probably because your form on half your spells is off."

"I thought that too! But then she sat down on the edge of her desk and lifted her skirt a bit -,"

"Q," Eliot shakes his head, "Skirts adjust when you sit down. It happens."

"That's what I thought!" Quentin nods again, scooting closer to Eliot as a loud bang sounds from outside the cottage. Eliots eyebrows shoot up as his eyes dart towards the front door. "Ignore that," Quentin says, grabbing Eliots arm, "Listen to me. Sunderland was hitting on me and offered to teach me things ‘no other woman could.’ Her words not mine.”

Eliots lip twitches as he nods, "Okay, that could be taken -,"

"And then! Three girls cornered me in the library while I was studying spell form work because you're right - I definitely need work on it, because I fucked up one of my practice spells yesterday." He shakes his head, waving a hand in front of him, “But I’m getting off topic. Anyways so these girls came up to me and I was all, ‘Hey, what’s up?’ thinking they needed one of the books I had or something. Nope. Do you know what they asked me, Eliot? Do you know?!”

Eliot takes a deep, agitated breath, “What did they ask you, Quentin?”

“They asked! If I! Wanted to have a,” He pauses, leaning forward and lowering his voice, “Foursome!”

“A foursome?” Eliot asks, nodding to himself, “I assume you said yes?”

“Why would I say yes?”

“Three beautiful women want to have a foursome and you, a somewhat heterosexual man, turned them down?”

“First of all, I’m bisexual,” Quentin rolls his eyes and Eliot face contorts in surprise, and barrels on, “Second of all, of course I said no! But that’s not even the weirdest part.”

Eliot perks an eyebrow, “No?”

“No!” Quentin pulls away, standing up and running a hand through his hair as he starts to pace in front of the couch, “Not long after I ran out of the library,” He turns and points a finger at Eliot, “Remind me to return those books when the world returns to normal,” And goes back to pacing. “The weirdest thing that happened was when I got called to the deans office.” He stops midstep as another bang ricochets much closer to the cottage. His eyes dart down to Eliot, wide and worried. “Ignore that.”

Eliot tilts his head, pushing up from the couch with furrowed brows. “Q,” He says slowly, “What exactly am I ignoring?”

“Nothing much.”

“Care to elaborate?”

“Not really, no. Ask me what happened in the deans office.”

Eliot sighs, falling back onto the couch, exasperated and confused enough to play along. “What happened in the deans office, Quentin?” His tone is much less interested and more frustrated than Quentin would like, but he choose to ignore it because Eliot is the only person on campus who isn’t certifiably insane right now, and he can handle a little disinterest and attitude. It’s ten times better than the alternative.

Which is . . . undesirable.

“He tried to kiss me!” He nods quickly as Eliot double takes. “Yeah! Dean Henry Fogg tried to kiss me. He told me I’m an exceptional student - which we both know is a big fat lie because I’m medirocre at best, don’t worry I realize it, don’t try to make me feel better about it, we’ve got bigger fish to fry right now. And he leaned up against the edge of his desk and he started saying all these flirty things, but I wanted to, you know. Pretend it was just his weird way of trying to be a real human being.”

“But he wasn’t.”

“No!” Quentin exclaims, pointing at him, “Exactly! Then he moved to sit in the chair next to mine, and started scooting the chair closer, and closer to me, and he was all leaning in, and was like,” He clears his throat, and says in his best imitation of Dean Foggs voice, “Quentin, there is something unique and different in you. And then he leaned in to kiss me!”

Eliot looks a little more that frustrated, perhaps he’s veered into the agitated zone. Maybe he doesn’t believe Quentin story, but every unbeilable insane thing that’s happened to him today is - unbelievably true. “So . . . Dean Fogg tried to kiss you. Without your consent.”

“Yes!”

“I’ll fucking -,”

“And then!”

Eliot’s face falls. “That’s not everything?”

“No!”

“I’m almost afraid to ask.”

“You should be!” Quentin exclaims, brushing his hair behind his ears as he flops back down on the couch and stares at him with wild eyes. “Not a single fucking person today has gone without hitting on me. And it first it was weird, right? But then Alice - even though we broke up a week ago -,”

“You and Alice broke up?”

“Yes, not important -,”

“Kind of important! Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Quentin replies, exasperated, “Forget about the alice thing.”

Eliot makes a face. “Yeah, I’m not sure I can forget about the Alice thing, Q. Aren’t you -,”

“She came up to me and said she was in love with me!” Quentin interrupts, dazed and confused and still feeling the aftershocks of that little confession. “After she broke up with me because we’re not compatible and this whole thing just can’t work out because we’re too much alike, and that our feelings are obviously forced by our circumstances.”

“She said that?”

“Yes! Stop focusing on the Alice thing!” He leans forward and grabs onto the lapels of Eliot’s vest. “She’s only one of many to hit on me today. Or kiss me. Or proposition me. I think the guy in the bathroom earlier had intentions other than peeing, and I feeling like if I didn’t get out of there sooner, I may have found myself on the other end of an unwanted kiss!”

“Who was it?” Eliot demands, eyebrows furrowing angrily as he shifts forward, suddenly much more interested, “Tell me who, Q.”

Quentin lets go of his vest, waving a hand as he stands up again, “Not important!”

“Not important? Q -,”

He moves around the couch so he’s standing in front of the bookshelf. “You’re the only one who’s not hunting me down. I mean, we’re in the same room, obviously, but you’re the only one who hasn’t been hunting me down today -,” A louder, angrier bang followed by several savage screams follows his statement and he winces guiltily, looking down at Eliot, “Please just ignore that.”

“What the fuck am I ignoring?”

“Technically you’re not ignoring it if you’re asking what you’re ignoring.”

“Quentin!” He makes a face, all anger and intention and Quentin sighs.

“Fine,” He mutters, leaning up against the latter on the bookshelf and looking up at the ceiling, “It’s the entire Brakebills campus looking for me.”

He looks down in time to see Eliot’s eyebrows shoot up, and then furrow, his lips setting in a line as he pushes himself up from the couch. “You - You’re saying,” He starts, taking a slow step closer to him, “The entire Brakebills campus is looking for you?

“Yep.” He shrugs, pushing away from the latter and shaking his head with a shrug in a what can you do motion. “They’re hunting me down so they can have their wicked, wild way with me.”

“And you’re here?”

“Well I mean, everyone else was out there. I thought you would be too, but you’re here!” He grins, “And you’re not crazy!”

Eliot makes a face, “Of course I’m not crazy!” He says, moving in and grabbing Quentin by the elbows, “But I think you may be going crazy.”

Quentin laughs, “You try hiding from everyone you know. Even Margo!” He exclaims, pulling away and moving to flop into the jean chair unceremoniously, “Even Margo wasn’t safe. I saw her in the quad and thought, hey maybe Margo can explain this, she’s all suave and unemotional.”

Eliot takes slow steps towards him until he’s kneeling in front of him, narrowed eyes all steely and angry, “What did Margo do, Q?”

Quentin shrugs, “She had this big grin on her face,” He shakes his head, “Which should have been my first clue. But I thought maybe she was happy to see somebody else who was reasonably sane. But no,” He shakes his head, breath hitching as he looks up at the ceiling. “Margo jumped into my arms and asked me to take her to her room and make her wish she’d never been with another man.”

“She did what?”

“I know!” Quentin looks up. “After that, I ran straight here. And then I heard them, calling my name in the distance,” Something bangs on the front door, “I wouldn’t go outside if I were you. There are clothes everywhere.”  He shudders, “I don’t know what the fuck is happening, but I’m pretty sure I’m about to be sexed to death.” He pushes up so he’s sitting upright in the chair and frowns. “If anybody had told me eight months ago that I’d be killed by sex from an entire campus of people, I would have laughed in their faces and gone on my way. But they’d have been right.”

Eliot huffs, leaning forward and grabbing him by the shoulders, “Exactly when did this start?”

“This morning, I told you already. You should probably hide,” He makes a face, “They’re going to break through that door any minute, and you don’t want to be a part of what they’re going to do.” His eyes dart across the room before he shrugs, “I mean. Unless the insanity settles in on you any time soon. Then you will.”

“Seriously?” Eliot shakes his head, standing up and pulling Quentin with him, shaking him all along the way, “Q. What started this?”

“How should I know?”

“Did anything happen before this morning?”

Did anything? “Oh!” He’d almost forgotten. “Yeah. Last night Todd came into my room and confessed his undying love to me,” He shrugs, “It was really weird but that’s about it.”

Eliot’s lip twitches again, and the tendons in his throat tense like he’s trying to keep from screaming. “What happened before Todd,” He spits the name, which reminds Quentin of just how much Eliot can’t stand Todd, “Came and confessed his love?”

“Yeah. I already told you.”

Eliot smiles sardonically, “You did. Remind me?”

“I fucked up that spell I was practicing and just gave up for the night. Nothing happened.”

“Did nothing happen or did you feel like nothing happened?”

“I mean, I felt something. But nothing actually happened.”

Eliot’s head drops, and he squeezes Quentin’s shoulders painfully tight. “You cast a fucking spell,” he growls a moment later as more frantic banging sounds against the front and back doors, “You cast a spell and did something to everyone on campus you utter idiot.” He pushes him away and starts towards the stairs, looking back only when he realizes Quentin isn’t following. “Show me the spell!” He exclaims, motioning towards the stairs.

“Right!” He nods, quickly running towards and up the stairs.

*

So. He’d inadvertently cast a love spell over the entirety of Brakebills - and potentially New York, but because he stayed on campus, and nobody off campus was able to get in, except a few alumni, they wouldn’t be able to verify. But Eliot, sweet, sweet sane Eliot, somehow knew the counter curse. And now everyone’s off finding their clothes  - and their dignity, somewhere else on campus.

Minus those who live in the cottage who are taking their time to make Quentin knows they absolutely, one hundred percent don’t have feelings for him. Like Todd for instance, who is flapping his arms erratically, trying to explain that he so, absolutely not gay, dude. But Quentin’s not paying attention because behind him, far off into the living room Eliot and Margo are having a heated conversation - so not like them - and Margo actually, for the first time in her life, looks like she’s harboring, at least an amount of guilt. So weird.

But then she’s turning towards them, and Todd’s being ushered away and she’s kneeling in front of him all serious and intent.

“Q,” She says slow, “You know I didn’t really want to fuck you, right?”

Quentin nods, because obviously. “Yeah. I accidentally made everyone fall in love with me,” He pauses, wrinkling his nose, “You know I didn’t mean to -,”

“Obviously.” She says, raising her brows and standing up, “But while you’re busy being oblivious to magic, you should,” She leans down, lowering her voice, “Wonder why your love spell didn’t work on Eliot.” She pats him on the shoulder, shaking her head as a look of utter confusion washes over his face, and then she disappears up the stairs like she hadn’t said anything.

A few other physical kids approach him as she walks away, but he stands up, waves them off and makes his way to Eliot. Eliot who��s busy looking like he’s got something else to do. Eliot who is holding a magazine upside down, and is clearly paying attention to everything happening around him but is pretend not to. Eliot who tenses up as soon as Quentin sits down. Eliot who knows something Quentin doesn’t yet know.

“You weren’t affected,” Quentin says, flopping down onto the couch next to him. “Why weren’t you affected?”

He has his own hopes, but that’s not important.

Eliot looks up from the upside down magazine and perks an eyebrow. “I just saved your life. And you’re here interrogating me like I’m the one who accidentally made the whole school fall madly, deeply in love with you? Q, I thought you were smarter than this.”

Quentin narrows his eyes, leaning in and poking him in the chest. “I have had a really long day, and as much as i want it to end, I want answers more.” He leans in closer, staring into Eliot’s eyes. “Explain.”

“How should I know why your ridiculous little spell  -,”

“Eliot,” Quentin warns, poking harding, “I have had every person except the person I’m interested in rub all up on me, including Dean Fogg. So, just stop bull shitting for once, and tell me what the fuck you’re feeling.” He nods, tired and frustrated and exasperated, leaning in closer. “Please.”

Eliot watches him for a few long moment before sighing, and setting down the magazine. “You really want to know?”

“I wouldn’t be asking if I didn’t.”

“You wouldn’t be asking any other day, either.”

“Yeah, well,” He shrugs, pulling his hands away and his legs up on the couch with him, “You get the whole school to fall in love with you, you start to wonder about the people you actually care about.” He eyes him warily, “So. Explain.”

“I don’t  know exactly -,”

“Then tell me your educated guess. You’ve been here longer than me.”

“By a year!”

“Still. Longer.”

Sighing, Eliot looks up at the ceiling with a roll of his eyes. “Fine,” He mutters, flippantly wave a hand as he settles against the back of the catch. He looks at Quentin out of the corner of his eye. “It could be - rumor has it. Love spells don’t . . . “ He trails off, swallowing thickly.

“Love spells don’t . . . “ Quentin prompts.

“Affect those who are in love.”

“But isn’t —“

“If they’re in love with the person who cast the spell.”

Quentin’s breath hitches as Eliot’s eyes flutter shit, lips pursing and flinching as the words fall from his lips. So. Eliot’s in love with him. At least, based on him not being affected by the spell, and - yeah. This is absolutely counting as a confession. “So you’re saying,” Quentin starts, grabbing onto Eliot’s elbow, thumb pressing into the pulse point of the vein on the inner side of the elbow, “That the spell wouldn’t have affected you . . . because you’re already in love with him.”

Eliot sighs, opening his eyes, and turning to face him. “I mean. That would be the jist of it, I suppose.”

Quentin nods. “And you’re absolutely certain there are no aftermath affects of a spell like this?”

Eliot’s brow furrows as he nods, slow and uncertain. “Yes, Q. There are no aftermaths.”

“So if I kissed you right now, you wouldn’t stupidly try to blame the spell?”

Eyes going wide, Eliot looks at him. Then he narrows his eyes. “Are you saying —“

“If I kissed you. Right now. Would you blame the spell?” Quentin perks a brow and leans in closer, “Because honestly, this feeling has been going on since long before the spell, and you’re not an idiot, but if you were like ‘this is totally the spell’ you would kind of be an idi—“

Eliot swoops in and presses his lips against Quentin’s before he can finish the sentence. His lips burn bright and hot against Quentin’s but it’s the first wanted kiss in nearly twenty four hours, and Quentin’s hands find themselves winding in Eliot’s hair, unwilling to let Eliot pull away until he’s ready. He feels Eliot’s breath hitch against their lips, and a small smirk curve on the ends of his lips, but he doesn’t pull away.

“Fucking finally,” They both breathe.

And then they pull away, gaze at each other for a long, silent, swollen moment, and then they’re bursting into laughter because of course it would take a fucking accidental love spell for either of them to make a fucking move.

Of fucking course it would.

[mistymountains-cold]

Home

My submission for the Welters Challenge Week One: Brakebills

“Home” was always more a concept than anything else.

For the first eighteen years of her life, “home” was a string of nannies and boarding schools and upscale summer camps, punctuated with occasional cursory visits with her parents who were stiff to the point of uncomfortable and always mostly strangers. The next four years were dominated by college with summers spent in one vacation home or another, not always one belonging to her family, and during those years she saw each of her parents perhaps once. For twenty-two years “home” was categorized as the place where faculty, counselors, nannies, and other various guardians used terms like “bold,” “beautiful,” “brash,” “bored,” or “brilliant” to describe her while her peers mostly stuck to the eminently practical “bitch.” “Home” was a series of one stately academic building, impeccably landscaped campus, and disinterested roommate after another.

When she first stumbled onto the Brakebills Campus, almost eight years after she discovered her magic during an accident when she was mercifully alone in her freshman dorm in high school, she had first believed it to be just another empty shell full of the same uninspired nerds and pompous pricks masquerading as professors. Despite her dramatic entrance, which she of all people could appreciate, Brakebills failed to distinguish itself as anything other than another shell of a place, an emotionless location, until about two minutes into her entrance exam. The first time the question on the page suddenly shifted to a new one she looked up in instinctual surprise and found that she was not the only person whose head was lifted. She was the second person accepted into that year’s incoming Brakebills class, second only to the tall dark-haired boy she looked at, wide-eyed, in the exam room.

It turned out that roommates were assigned co-ed and based on the order in which they were accepted, and so she spent her first four months living with Eliot Waugh, sharpening him against herself until they were the undeniable Prince and Princess apparent. By the time they were both moved securely into the Physical Kids’ Cottage, her associations of home were beginning to become more about vests, cravats, and a metal box of corner store cigarettes.

Their first year came and went, their bond cemented through endless Welter’s games she forced him to participate in (she had never much liked sports, but frankly she kicked ass at Welter’s) and baring their souls during the Trials. Their invitations to Ibiza came hand-delivered and they spent their time in Spain entangled with whoever they pleased. When it came time for the summer recess Fogg let them stay on campus, and Eliot conjured countless portals all over the world, leading her on an intercontinental pub crawl-slash-orgy that lasted a blissful two months. By the time their second year began with the two of them  incidentally at the head of their class despite having never picked up an actual book, “home” was wherever in the world Eliot Waugh was.

No actual emotions passed between the two of them and anyone else. They stuck to themselves, wrapped up in a bubble of drugs and booze and boys and effortlessly being better than everyone else. And then right at the beginning of their second year, they got assigned the worst job on campus.

Her incoming first year was a jittery-looking girl with curly red hair who she never saw again after the exam. She had returned to her room in the Cottage and was pouring herself a glass of the reserve Cabernet she kept under her bed without a second thought for the poor young idiot when Eliot returned to the Cottage, sputtering on about the absolutely adorable oh my God you have to meet him of course he’s going to pass what are you even talking about shut up and let’s go and the next thing she knew she was standing in front of Quentin Coldwater while Eliot tried and failed not to look excited next to her. She was loathe to admit it even only to herself but before she could stop it from happening “home” had expanded to include a sad little supernerd with shaggy hair and a godawful fashion sense. He came with Alice, and Alice was undefinable in her life-written dictionary.

The Beast came with his own challenges, and she found herself working side by side to save everyone’s lives. She was surprised to find she was working for more than her own life. She was starting to care, and she didn’t care. She’d hate it if she weren’t so happy.

Things between she and Eliot soured fast after Mike died while she was in Ibiza, and the threesome with Quentin just drove the stake father home. By the time they got to Fillory it didn’t even really matter anymore–part of her was already dead. Eliot got married and there was nothing she could even do to stop it. It pissed her off more than anything– Eliot was giving up part of himself to save them all, again, and it left her feeling emptier and emptier. He could never return to Brakebills and the world that gave them one another. He could never sleep with anyone but the timid virgin farmgirl he was somehow contractually obligated to marry in what she viewed as the most fantastical bullshit deal of the century. She felt for poor Fen too, she truly did, and the pep talks she offered both Mr. and Mrs. Waugh were from the heart, but watching Eliot give everything up to try and find a spot of the happiness she herself had finally begun to associate with Brakebills was crushing.

Over the next year she watched Eliot blossom into the King she knew he was. They didn’t hardly ever see eyes-to-eye, but there really was no denying that Eliot was born to be King. Fillory had become his home, but it could never be hers, not really. She had thought once that anywhere Eliot was, home would follow. But with Quentin and Alice missing, magic dead, and an army full of crazy-ass fairies poised to take over their castle it was more clear to her than ever that Brakebills, the once-cliched symbol of everything that made her childhood bullshit wrapped up in a package and sprinkled with magic to make it easier to swallow, had given her something bigger than home. Bigger than Eliot Waugh or Quentin Coldwater or Alice Quinn or even Margo Hanson herself. Brakebills had given her a family.

[quentinsquill]

Art submission for The Welters Challenge, week one: “Brakebills.” 

[ratcarneymain]

The Unseen: Alice being furious beyond measure at Quentin for cheating on her. "She held her hand, palm out, like she was shielding her eyes from his monstrous face. A look of wet hair was plastered to her cheek. She was gasping for breath. Her lips had gone pale. But they kept moving. 'Was it worth it?' she said. 'You always wanted her, you think I didn't see that? You think I'm stupid? Answer me: Do you think I'm stupid? Just tell me! I really want to know if you think I'm stupid!' She ran at him and slapped his face. He took full force of the blow."

[goddessjuliawicker]

Welter’s Challenge Three:  The Unseen

Gretchen!

“Somehow on their way out to the Sea a Second Year girl named Gretchen attached herself to them. Blond and long-legged and slender, she was built like a prima ballerina except for the fact that she had a severe, clunking limp—something congenital having to do with a knee ligament—and walked with a cane.”

“She wasn’t embarrassed about her leg. She told anybody who would listen that that’s where her power came from, and if she had it surgically corrected she wouldn’t be able to do magic anymore.”

(As someone who frequently uses a mobility aid Gretchen gives me strength and, in fact, my came is named Gretchen. I just would have liked to have seen more of her, even in just a background sense.)

@thewelterschallenge

[goddessjuliawicker]

Welters Challenge Week Three - Unseen

Queen Julia

I’d like to see Queen Julia. And more of Julia in Fillory. And Julia doing magic in Fillory. And Julia with a crown. And Queen Julia.

@thewelterschallenge

Photo credit to: @spoonyruncible

[thewelterschallenge]

The 2019 Welters Challenge

Hello our wonderful followers! Tonight is the finale, so you know what that means...

We’re back!

We mods have enjoyed our break, thoroughly enjoyed this season (remember you can catch mod asmo live tweeting on twitter every Wednesday night right here)

This year, we’re welcoming a new Mod! Everyone give Mod Ronen, @swagmancer a warm welcome!

We’ve also changed and updated a few things: 

1. Categories! This year we will be once again sticking to three categories for submission: Written, Still Art and Moving Art. Written will include all written pieces. Still Art will include all non moving art; digital edits, drawings, cosplay PHOTOS, etc. Moving Art will include moving art: videos, gif sets, cosplay VIDEOS, music, etc. If you’re unsure of where your submission falls, send us an ask and we’ll be happy to help you!

2. TIMES. This year, we will have set opening and closing times, where as before these have been up in the air. New themes will post at 8am EST on Wednesdays, and will close the following Tuesday at 6 pm EST. Master lists will be posted the next morning at 8am along with a voting poll, and the voting polls will close at 6pm the following Tuesday, with the results and next theme posting the next morning at 8am. So on, and so forth. 

3. THE SCHEDULE. (We all know this is what y’all are really after)

Theme 1 - April 24th 8am EST - April 30th 6pm EST

Voting and Love Week: May 1st 8am EST - May 7th 6pm EST

Theme 2 - May 8th 8am EST - May 14th 6pm EST

Voting and Love Week: May 15th 8am EST - May 21st 6pm EST

Theme 3 - May 22nd 8am EST - May 28th 6pm EST

Voting and Love Week: May 29th 8am EST - June 4th 6pm EST

Theme 4 - June 5th 8am EST - June 11th 6pm EST

Voting and Love Week: June 12th 8am EST - June 18th 6pm EST

Theme 5 - June 19th 8am EST - June 25th 6pm EST

Voting and Love Week: June 26th 8am EST - July 2nd 6pm EST

Theme 6 - July 3rd 8am EST - July 9th 6pm EST

Voting and Love Week: July 10th 8am EST - July 16th 6pm EST

Theme 7 - July 17th 8am EST - July 23rd 6pm EST

Voting and Love Week: July 24th 8am EST - July 30th 6pm EST

Theme 8 - July 31st 8am EST - August 6th 6pm EST

Voting and Love Week: August 7th 8am EST - August 13th 6pm EST

Theme 9 - August 14th 8am EST - August 20th 6pm EST

Voting and Love Week: August 21st 8am EST - August 27th 6pm EST

Final Voting Week: August 28th 8am EST - September 3rd 6pm EST

2019 Winner’s Announcement: September 4th 8am EST

And there you have it folks! If you have any other questions, please feel free to send us an ask! Submission Rules will be posted with each theme. 

- Welters Challenge Mod Squad

[thewelterschallenge]

The 2019 Welters Challenge, Theme 1

Hello Magicians fandom!

It’s been a hard week after a grueling (to say the least) finale, but we are here to begin the 3rd annual Welters Challenge nonetheless!

The Rules:

If you’ve been with us here before, you can skim this section. We haven’t changed much this year, just a little spit shine and polish. For the newbs, this will be your bible this summer, memorize it, love it, there will be a pop quiz.

For complete list of rules and regulations, please click here. 

Now, on to the fun part!

For our first theme this year, we’re going to focus on The Library.

The library has consistently played a giant part in The Magicians, so it’s naturally time to give them a spotlight here on The Welters Challenge. This means we want Library laden fics, cosplays, fan art… as long as The Library plays a part, we want it. Take them down, redefine them, it doesn’t matter as long as you have fun.

Reminder, this theme is open from now until Tuesday April 30th at 6:00 pm EST

Please tag your works with #the welters library #welters challenge 2019 week 1 and #the 2019 welters challenge along with throwing us an @ in your submission. If we do not reblog within 48 hours feel free to send us an ask.

Happy Creating!

Mod Asmo

[thewelterschallenge]

An apology, an announcement, and an unfortunate set of circumstances walk into a tumblr post...

While it sounds like the start to a horrible 21st century joke, it’s unfortunately no laughing matter.

First and foremost, I want to apologize for the lack of activity on this blog. There were medical emergencies, and while I should have kept you updated, tumblr got pushed to a back burner while I attempted to pull together the shreds of my life.

That being said, I am very sorry to announce that the Welters Challenge is closing for the year. All of us mods have been thrown a wrench in our personal lives, and we can no longer keep up with the blog. That, paired with the unpublished hate we receive, and an all time low of submissions, has led to this decision.

We love each and every one of you, and we want to thank you for the amazing, fun years you’ve given us. We started this blog with the goal to build a fandom, and we couldn’t be more proud of what we’ve accomplished. Thank you.

We might be back next year. It will all depend on how things play out, and we apologize once more for this abrupt ending.

May you enjoy the rest of your hiatus, and keep creating. 💖

- Mod Asmo

[thewelterschallenge]

The 2019 Welters Challenge Week One Masterlist: The Library

Alright guys! We've wrapped up our first official week for this years Welter’s Challenge, and we had quite the turn out! Below is a master list of all of the submissions, followed by a link to vote for you favorite! 

Wrapped up submissions also means that we are beginning our first official love fest of 2019, which means it’s time to spread that love and support around! Send it directly to our wonderful participants, or hit up our ask box and we’ll give them a shout out in your honor!

Masterlist

Written Art

Solidarity - @goodredherring

Every Human Thought - @nemainofthewater

Infinity - @filloryisreal

Don’t Engage, Strike By Night - @nemainofthewater

Where I Come From - @aristotlecoyote

Setting Our Insides on Fire for Fun - @highonlizardeliot

The Assassination of Alice Quinn - @minister-for-femslash

Not the End (But the Start of All Things) - @eerielake

Under Renovations and Other works - @rad-hoodd

Still Art

Penny in the Library - @highkingfen 

Kady’s Story - @dragontopaz

Librarians - @dragontopaz

The Order of the Library of the Neitherlands - @dragontopaz

Phyllis, Head of Personnel - @dragontopaz 

The Poison Room - @dragontopaz

Library Propaganda Poster - @indestructress

Magicians Text Post - @face--the--strange

Sweetly Fierce: The Ace of Clubs - @artocello

Library Cross Stitch Pattern - @hufflepuffjohnjaqobis

Mirror World - @queliot40

Zelda - @vriah

Moving Art:

Full of Books - @ourladyontheotherside

The Voting Link

Don’t forget to vote for your favorites right here.

Due to the fact that there was only one entry for moving art, we will not be taking votes for that section, and @ourladyontheotherside is the winner for this week, congratulations!