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whumpuary · 7 months ago

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Whumpuary 2025!

(edit in case anyone actually reads this, i messed up and put "i'm fine" in twice for day 25 and alt prompt, so either ignore that or you can use "do it" as an additional alt prompt)

these prompts came together through community submissions and then a voting form where people voted for their favorites, here are the top 53 prompts

i want to try a slightly new format where there are still only 15 days for creation prompts but with additional community prompts/questions. those are entirely voluntary but are here to possibly inspire some community interaction and trying new things

i'm excited to see some awesome creations in january!

go here for info/rules/tagging go here for faqs

(note: number 31 is not a creation prompt and therefore not required to complete the challenge, it's just colored black so the colors add up)

text version of the prompts and rules is under the cut

(image description note: there are 31 numbered prompts, on each odd number the text color is black and on even numbers the text color is white)

Whumpuary 2025

a whump-themed multi media creation event for january

create for at least one prompt from each odd/black number to complete the challenge community prompts (even/white) numbers are voluntary

main prompts

alt prompts

hiding impaled "i'm fine" rain betrayal hair pulling darkness falling (added later, not in the image: "do it")

rules & info

-any medium is allowed (art, writing, gifs, edits, ...) -prompts are open for interpretation (but the context does have to be whumpy) -create for at least one of three prompts on creation prompt days (black/odd numbers) to complete the challenge -if you're not aiming for completionist you can do however many prompts you want any way you want -community prompts (white/even numbers) are voluntary and don't count for completionist (but can be combined with creation prompts if applicable) -use alt prompts to replace main prompts you don't like some works posted on tumblr will be reblogged if tagged correctly -#whumpuary2025 -#whumpuaryno1 (number of the prompt(s)) -#sacrifice #head injury #"i'm fine" (the prompt(s) you're using) -any trigger/content warning tags -any additional tags (fandom, oc, other used tropes, ...)

#whumpuary #whumpuary2025 #whump #whump community #whumplr #whumpuary prompts #whumpuary2025 prompts

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an-ruraiocht · 10 months ago

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90% of the time when i see reviews and posts saying "this book needed editing" i don't think the reader have any idea what editing actually entails. usually this is actually code for one of several "problems" with the book:

it's too long, or it's slower paced than this reader's preference. they believe "editing" would mean making it shorter

it has a heavily descriptive style, which the reader doesn't like. they believe "editing" means paring every sentence down to hemingway-style prose with no adverbs

it doesn't follow the very rigid "save the cat" style 3-act story structure, disrupting the reader's sense of narrative tension. an editor, they believe, would've made sure it did

there were a few typos or formatting errors, and they believe it's the editor's job to catch these (it's not, it's typically the proofreader and the typesetter who have responsibility for that kind of thing)

and finally, most often:

the author had different narrative priorities than the reader, who thinks an editor would have made the author change their priorities.

the thing is, there are actually issues with editors in trad publishing being overworked to the point where things aren't getting the thorough, thoughtful editing that they need to be the best version of themselves. there are plenty of badly-structured, poorly-researched, and clumsily written books out there. moreover copyediting is typically freelance and perhaps because of that, this is the area where i see the largest number of issues: continuity issues, grammar issues, factual errors etc that someone should've spotted and didn't.

but this is not typically what people's "this needed an editor" reviews are focusing on. most often it just means they didn't like the book and they've decided editing is an all-powerful force that would have transformed it into a book they liked. but that's not how it works. and disproportionately what this comment means is that the book doesn't match what current fashions have decided is The Correct Style to write in

"this book needed an editor" if it's traditionally published, it had one. like. by definition. it was an editor who bought the book. that doesn't mean the editor did a great job but they definitely existed. there were probably at least two (acquiring editor who does the dev edits; copyeditor who does copyedits), and the proofreader, and a bunch of other people besides.

also i think people think editors are the ones who like. implement the changes. but they don't. they give comments and recommendations and ask questions and the author is the one to act on them. the editor will not rewrite the book. they will not fix the problems themselves, they will highlight the problem and the author will figure out a fix for it, or they will decide they don't agree that it's a problem and leave it as it. and a lot of the sentence-level style stuff is entirely on the author so if they don't have an ear for the rhythm then nobody's going to fix that for them. editors do a lot less than people seem to imagine they do, tbh

anyway

for reference—

structural/developmental edits: is this chapter in the right place and does the plot make sense and is the characterisation consistent and effective

line edits: is this sentence in the right place and is it as stylish as it could be

copy edits: is this sentence grammatically correct and consistent/factually correct within the story/its world and do the spellings follow the publisher's stylesheet

proofreading: are there any typos in this sentence and was the formatting preserved correctly when it was typeset

#leabhair

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kamospeach · 4 days ago

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plot: gym crushes are no fun if they don't look your way

content warning: it's toji... so, also gym themed ish, tiny bit of angst

dean's (aka peachy) yap: i always dread writing about toji, but he's so hawt😔. sorry for the constant angst it helps the smut be better

if working out were easy, you wouldn't lose any weight. at least that's what you told yourself. it'd been months, maybe even years, since you stepped foot in a gym. but you told yourself today you would learn how to work out for real, for real.

i mean, the positive self-talk was going well on the treadmill. but once you got on the stair master, all that went to ashes and dust. your calves were burning, and your thighs were trembling. there were a lot of hot buff men around (irrelevant but still important to point out), and they were lifting weights like it was nothing. you couldn't lie that they were making you just a tad insecure.

you got off the stairmaster, leaving that for another day, and heading over to the weights. setting down your stuff, you pulled out your phone, looking at the video of the girl lifting. you watched her formation and how she did it, finding it to be pretty easy.

you sigh, changing the weights on the rack, even that was heavy for you. ‘it wouldn’t be as embarrassing if it weren't the school’s gym,’ you thought to yourself, preparing to squat.

“okay, so she...” you mumbled, starting the squat as your thighs began to shake. “fuck!” you exclaimed before the weight was taken off your shoulders. you let out a breath of relief, standing up straight. when you whipped around, a man stood above you.

you immediately noticed him, i mean, who wouldn’t? toji is the star hockey player of the university, who was known for flirting with any girl who crossed his path. now that you've thought about it, this would become cliche very fast. you could guess what he was about to say, ‘wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself, pretty girl’ or something along those lines.

“y’shouldn’t lift if you don’t know what you’re doing,” he said, looking down at you. you scoffed at the audacity of this man! who says you don’t know what you’re doing? what if you just slipped up a little there?

“who's to say i don’t know what im doing?” you said sassily, watching a smirk spread across his scarred lips. you didn’t know if he was smirking because he was about to rip you to shreds or because he was trying to flirt with you too.

“you clearly didn’t know what you were doing, doll, if you did, you would've had yer feet further apart. may i?” he asked, and you were confused about what he was asking, but you agreed. he lightly tapped your thigh, signaling you to spread them further. “also, keep your feet pointed straight. you were asking for your knees to go out.”

“well, i watched a video and just followed the instructions!” you told him, and he laughed at you. yes. laughed at you thinking that watching a simple video would give you the magic ability to squat correctly.

“that’s cute… what video did you watch?” he asked, peering over your shoulder as you showed him the video. it was so clear that he was trying not to laugh by how his breathing changed. you looked up at him to see his hand over his mouth, and now it was blatantly obvious he wanted to laugh at you. “you tried to learn how to squat by watching some girl’s day in the life video.”

“i mean her knees didn’t give out!” you exclaimed, and this time he full-on laughed at you. there was no way you were serious… oh, you were.

“yeah, because it’s fake,” he patted your shoulder, and you frowned up at the freakishly buff man. and fake, what did he mean by fake? how do you ‘fake’ that?

“what? how do you even fake that?” you frowned up, not believing what he was saying. but the way he effortlessly lifted the weight off your shoulders, you trusted his instruction.

“whatever. let’s start with a regular squat to make sure you won’t almost kill yourself again.” so that’s what you did, you did a squat without the bar, and toji nodded. it was embarrassing, he just stood there with his hand on his chin. “just put your feet a little more than shoulder width. you still have them too close. also, make sure you're not too stiff or too loose…” after that, you zoned out.

you’re pretty sure you heard him saying you were doing well. at least you did get a good workout in, but your legs were sore. you were walking funny the whole next day. your friends swore up and down you met with a sneaky link or something.

nope! just got grilled by toji, that’s all.

“you’re positive you didn’t go see that man?” your friend asked with a squinted eye and you were seriously confused. “ya knowww the one guy from the party?”

“girl ony? hell no, i gave up on that a long time ago.” you waved her off as you walked into the cafeteria. everyone was gathered around looking at something. and of course, your nosey friends just had to go over there and see.

“y/n! look, it was who i was telling you about.” you took your sweet time walking over to where she stood, not interested in whatever they were talking about. “it’s toji, remember i was telling you about how he helped me change my tire.”

at the mention of his name, you perked up. you pulled your head out of your phone, getting interested in what the conversation was actually about. you didn’t like toji or anything. he just so happened to be conveniently attractive and just followed you on instagram yesterday.

“seems like he helps any woman in need,” you mumbled to yourself as your friend showed you the video. it was a live video of a hockey game, which you assumed toji was playing in. 5 seconds into the video, someone pushed toji. “he’s pissed.” you laughed seeing his red face and lifeless looking eyes.

he pushed the guy back, and they got to fighting. it would've been a quick fight had it not been hockey, so now toji and the man fought for a full 15 seconds before the ref tried to break it up. but the ref got roped in, and toji started fighting everyone. two refs, four players from the opposing team, and two extra officials. it took practically the whole team to pull him off the first guy.

you had to admit that seeing him fight made you want to go to the gym. in hopes that you’d see him and be able to tease him about his anger. so you made it a point to stalk his instagram to see when he was back (totally not creepy).

the day he posted about being back in town, you went to the gym. did the treadmill and even did the stair master without almost dying. but you did scan the gym, noticing toji’s tall stature the moment you walked in.

once it was time to lift, you shyly walked to the weights. today, you decided to do hip thrust, which is not embarrassing since you haven't done this before either. but boy oh boy, didn’t you get lucky because the person you were waiting for approached you today.

“back at it again, hopefully not with another video,” he laughed, and you shook your head proudly, standing up. “no? what did you watch today?” he asked with a smirk, looking down at you.

“well, i watched a video, but it was a personal trainer. and it’s always easier if someone shows me in person,” you bat your lashes, looking up at the strong man who has his arms crossed. he gave you a look that you couldn’t read, but it looked like he wanted to laugh.

“you askin’ me t’show you how to do it, doll?” he asked, and you nodded with a full-on smile, he sighed. “so what are you doing?”

“hip thrust,” you tell him, and he hummed with a nod. he helped you fix the bar and move everything around. you didn’t even have to lift a finger. the big, strong man did all the heavy lifting until it was time for him to demonstrate for you. he placed the bar on his lap, showing you how to do the hip thrust. “do this often?” you asked, enjoying the view of his strong body thrusting into the air.

“yeah, often,” he snorted, getting from under the bar, nodding at it. “your turn,” he says, and you mirror his actions, starting the hip thrust. toji was shamelessly staring at you, not caring who saw his growing tent. but when you finished your rep, he quickly adjusted himself as you turned around.

“wasn’t too bad,” you say, legs a little shaky, and toji hummed.

“do that often?” he asked, repeating your early statement, and you nod with a smirk. “never going to do arms?”

“i did em yesterday, you just weren’t here to teach me,” you say, leading into your teasing. “too busy fighting on ice or whatever…” you said, giving him a small glance as you went back to doing your second rep.

“so you watched my game?” he asked, and you scoffed.

“no, i was…hah... forced to see you… fight the whole damn stadium,” you said out of breath from the workout you were doing.

“if he wouldn’t have talked so much shit i wouldn’t have had to beat his ass,” he explained sounding like he was getting mad all over again. all you did was laugh as you finished the set. toji decided to use the equipment next to you. but it got hard to focus with a sweaty ripped toji doing deadlifts next to you.

as time went on, you and toji ended up working out together. having casual conversations about hockey and your everyday hobbies. he actually wasn’t a bad person, and he was funny, crude, but funny. even the dirty jokes landed, which surprised you since you weren’t a big fan of them.

he made working out fun, he even showed you his workout playlist. you immediately told him his music taste was horrible, and he was offended. you showed him yours, and he told you it was horrible. it didn’t hurt your feelings, considering toji didn’t know any of the people or songs in yours.

“you’ll be back tomorrow, won’t you?” toji asked, leaning against the roof of your car as you started it up.

“yeah, i’ll be back, why?”

“wanna see ya? is that a problem?” he asked you with a smirk, and you laughed at that statement. him? want to see you?

“yeah sure, toji, see you tomorrow,” you said as he watched you drive off. but all good things come to an end, like your weird friendship/physical trainer/ flirtationship you had. because when you went into the gym, there was toji teaching another girl how to lift. why were you a little jealous? your chest kind of burned a little bit, like you just got cheated or something.

but you went ahead and did your workout, not bothering to watch the two of them work out. you kept your headphones on, going about your routine. you worked out your arms, which was an exercise toji wasn’t there to teach you. so you did what you had to, not worried about hearing toji laugh with that girl and grab her waist to teach her just like he did you.

“oh, y/n, you’re here!” he said, and you hummed, taking one side of the headphones off, continuing your workout. he came over to where you were, not ashamed that the other girl was watching the two of you. “sorry, i couldn’t help you today, doll.”

“it’s no problem, you had more important business to attend to,” you said, putting your headphones back on, finishing your workout. toji was a little dense, he thought you were saying it in a nice way and not a you just pissed me off way.

“i promise to help you tomorrow,” he says with a smile, going over to help the girl.

“sure,” was all you could say to the small turn of events that unfolded before you today.

to be continued...

one two three four five six

university masterlist

taglist (open):

@grignardsreagent @stardollwrites @keraawrites @soldmysoulto @k-a-m232 @ac27dj @buttershea07 @charminstasia @satorupied @ane5e @miksolosss @gurllss @vamppirez

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moon-ttokki-x · 4 months ago

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Hey, how are you? May I ask for stray kids 9th member being a poliglot?

this was a cool request, ngl . . . i didn't do a traditional fic bc i like this format a lot, and plus, it's cuter that way >< also can we just appreciate the pretty purple theme guys

skz x 9th member!reader who can speak multiple languages

pairing: ot8!skz x 9th member polyglot!reader

summary: skz with a 9th member who is a polyglot.

genre: extremely fluffy, very cute stuff, pretty soft, some member x reader stuff, chaotic skz, naughty minho and maknaes, leader chan agenda, romantic hyune, reader who can read, write, and speak multiple different languages

a/n: interesting request . . . divider by @chachachannah

skz masterlist

Chan who wants you to teach him how to say lovely little phrases like 'i love you' and 'you are the light of my life' in different languages, asking you cutely with the biggest, cheesiest grin on his face. He goes around saying them to the other members, who don't understand what language he's talking in, and ignore him. But it doesn't matter, because now he feels like he has a little part of you with him wherever he goes. Is always fascinated as he watches you change languages in the blink of an eye. Makes a sweet sentence in one of your languages his bubble caption.

Minho who, on the other hand, asks you to teach him the dirtiest, filthiest phrases you can think of. They're too graphic to be put here, but some of the milder phrases include 'fuck you' and 'i hope you swallow spiders in your sleep'. Like Chan, he also goes around telling the members these sentences and grins the biggest you've ever seen because now he can swear without being caught. Sometimes does it on stage too, but really quietly just in case there's a couple Stays who actually understand what he's saying.

Changbin who watches in awe as you seamlessly transition between being on the phone, writing things down, and chatting with someone all at once while swapping languages. His head hurts after and he watches you quietly as you go about your usual business, not quite understanding how you do it. He learnt English with some a lot of difficulty, so he's stupefied by the fact that you've learnt not one but multiple languages, and can speak them all fluently. Always asking what you said after you switch back to a language he can understand.

Hyunjin who thinks up the cutest, sweetest, most romantic phrases on a whim, and after he asks how to say them in a language. So you tell him, thinking he's just curious. A few weeks later, you find a painting in your bedroom, a vase of your birth flowers and one of the phrases painted delicately in black across the bottom. He always asks what certain words mean, and asks you to translate random sentences. Has the biggest shine in his eyes as you sit down with him and tell him what all of the words mean, and how to say them. Stumbles through pronunciation but it's cute, so you kiss him as a reward.

Han who also asks what certain words mean, but more often than not, has a translating app open on his phone so he can find out for himself. Spends hours in secret trying to learn sentences by himself, and records himself saying the lines so he can check if he's saying them correctly. Like Changbin, is fascinated when you can switch languages just like that. Once said a rude phrase in front of his hyungs and got scolded because Chan actually understood what it meant (somehow). Got sentenced to 25 pushups as a punishment and never did it again.

Felix who buys workbooks and installs language-learning apps in a bid to try and communicate with you in your languages. Ends up spending over $400 just to spend hours upon hours studying them, much like he did when he was learning Korean. Doesn't notice when you sit down next to him and stroke his hair, he's so focused on learning your languages. Wants to communicate with you in every way he can. Refuses to talk to you in Korean or English until he gets fluent in at least two of your languages, and asks for kisses and hugs when he understands what you're saying to him.

Seungmin who sits in quiet fascination as you write in one language and talk on the phone in another. Isn't as forward in telling you that he wants to learn some of your languages, but definitely goes online and does his own research. Likes looking up the origins of each language and how the words were formed. Finds himself repeating little phrases he'd caught you saying that morning or the night before. Will never admit that he finds it fascinating that you can talk, read, and write in different languages, but nods and listens when you tell him all about it anyway, admiring the passion in your eyes with a warm heart.

Jeongin who learns weird phrases to catch you off guard, because he loves the speechless look on your face when you hear them. Is too shy to ask you outright to teach him your languages but also does research so he can learn himself. Recites off lines to the members and forces them to sit and listen so he can say them to you without messing up. Ends up wasting a lot of practice time, but he doesn't really care. Learns to write keywords and cute little sentences, and writes them in the margins of your notebooks to surprise you. Doodles love hearts and stars around each phrase.

a/n: very cute

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iokheaira · 1 year ago

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As a pro translator to and from Finnish (a fairly small, non-Indo-European language) who occasionally deals with AI, or machine translation, let me expand a bit: first, some things aren't worth the cost of money and time of being translated by a human person, even a rank n00b, so before they didn't get translated at all.

Second, the "new jobs" are often proofreading machine translation, commonly called post-editing. This ranges from genuinely helping translators deal with masses of text and making reasonable money, to causing a giant headache for shit pay.

IMO translation really shows the strengths and failure points of large language models (LLM) commonly known as "AI"; to wit, they're really, really good at predicting the most likely outcome based on known data, with occasional randomness that sometimes produces a genuinely great solution, and they're absolute crap at maintaining a consistent terminology and cohesion within a text, they can't know specialised terminology if it hasn't been scraped, and they just cannot deal with cross-references to other documents (because they often treat them as text strings, so instead of copying the translated name of an EU Directive or its common abbreviated name, available online in all of the languages of the Member States, the machine makes up a new translation which may or may not lead the reader to the correct document...)

The worst part is when the machine is good enough to sound confident but keeps generating errors in meaning or references or consistency, because then you need to read things through more carefully than when proofreading the work of a competent human, so that in the absolute worst case you spend as much time checking as you would've spent on translating from scratch - for half the pay. In the absolute best case? You can do a quick read-through, make a few corrections and you're done.

Note that specially-built translation engines can be made to work with glossaries and specific references, but 1. those only make sense for things that already generate massive amounts of text, like the EU, and 2. they're harder to retrofit to generic translators like DeepL at least without specialised translation software, which is another beast entirely.

Also... the gig economy has been present in the translation industry since at least the 2000s, or from what I've heard, maybe 1990s; most of it is outsourcing. You either learn to be a business or don't make a living wage. Entry level has always been full of random people who get a decent grade in high school or study literature in university and think: how hard can it be? And then end up reinventing the wheel. (I did an MA in translation studies and have found it useful, though I already started working after the BA like many others.)

Uhhhh... where was I?

Right! Go ahead and use Google Translate or DeepL to understand what a foreign website etc. is talking about, or turn on the automatically generated and machine translated subtitles on YouTube. No human would be paid to translate those anyway, so why not use the service? Just keep in mind that they are based on probability calculations, and nobody has checked that the text makes sense and uses accurate specialist terminology, or tried their best to make it understandable to you (because ultimately, the translator's job is communication).

Eta: though the impact of AI on the next generation of translation students will be interesting. Any teacher worth their salt will hammer the need for a sanity check through their skulls, but will the political climate mean that funding for translation studies will dry up because "we have AI for that"? And what about the random people who enter the field with zero clue because it sounds easy, if they've grown up blindly trusting that ChatGPT doesn't lie? Now that will be interesting.

Eta2: important to note, I'm a technical translator, not a translator of literature, and also opinions on machine translation vary wildly in the field! Personally I think some texts are more suitable for machine translation than others, and it's not always the ones you'd expect that are a problem. Well, anyone would probably excpect poems being an issue - and translating those is more co-creation than anything anyway.

Alt text is so incredibly useful when it comes to speakers of other languages. I follow a bunch of fiber artists from different parts of the world, Ukrainian fashion designers and Chinese antique garment collectors and Iranian university professors of textile art history. There are discussions happening in different languages, and resources like books and scholarship, simply not available in the English or French I know.

And a lot of them never even use the Latin alphabet a lot of the time! So sometimes I can photograph a book page or screencap an Instagram story and get my phone's OCR to give me text to paste into Google Translate, and I can sometimes use a Cyrillic keyboard to type out what I'm seeing, but but as soon as something is antiquated or handwritten or viewed at an angle, my goose is cooked. I can't even get the original phrase to try to translate at all.

Unless there's alt text. Because alt text gives me exactly the data I need in the exact right format to take to a dictionary and get the gist of what's going on.

It makes me reconsider how my own content is accessible or inaccessible not just to blind or visually-impaired people, but people who aren't perfectly fluent in English. Because I and a lot of my friends are native English speakers who usually only speak 1-2 languages total, I'm prey to assuming that everyone in my intended audience is like us. That of course everybody can easily process English text, whether it's printed or written in cursive or using some antique calligraphic hand. And of course, that's not true. Now when I look at my analytics for my business's rare medieval name, I occasionally see translation site traffic where people in Farsi or Ukrainian or Chinese have translated me in return.

The curb-cut effect is a wonderful thing, I think. The primary reason I've used alt text is a good one, and it also turns out that it's really useful for a lot of other people too.

#ai tw #machine translation #sometimes it works sometimes it doesn't #knowing how LLMs work means I can't ever take anything ChatGPT says seriously #also specialist terminology isn't always in a scrapeable format #and a small language means the LLM has less language to build a model with #though for real before the issue was errors in paper dictionaries and no way to do research online #they legit used to recommend listening to foreign radio shows to get at least a little exposure #as a child of the internet age we have so much more practice in the target language it's unreal #you used to have to live years in a foreign country to get to this level (which would then affect your native language skills)#machines: great tools if used correctly #much like fire

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botanical-garden-system · 3 months ago

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Some of the people I have seen say they have non-disordered plurality have a lot of extreme dissociative symptoms from what they post. System conflicts, huge memory gaps, inability to control switches, extreme depersonalization/derealization symptoms.

This is not to deny someone’s experience, but more of a gentle reminder that if your experiences with plurality causes genuine distress? You may want to learn more about how dissociative disorders impact functions.

I don’t really understand any labels outside of traumagenic and maybe endogenic. I can’t even begin to really wrap my head around plurality not causing dissociation—it’s just not my experience at all. It’s a big reason why I decline arguing in any debates, but I have a pretty good idea of how my DID has impacted me.

I will feel like shit and not understand why because my emotions are highly fragmented. There could be something wrong, I could feel it occasionally, but I have no clue at all why I am experiencing this level of distress.

I know of a major traumatic experience in my childhood that could have caused my DID, but I genuinely remember little to nothing about my life and the factors are endless. When I do find stuff talking about my experiences, it sets me back and almost “triggers me” back into a state where I was during that time (I have no recollection still even after these triggers happen).

Skills and knowledge are somewhat distinctive between parts. Some parts have had full blown meltdowns because they didn’t understand an assignment, and when someone else switched in, they knew exactly what to do.

“Wishing to be a system” played a huge part in my formation, but it wasn’t wishing to be a system. It was wishing I had someone to talk to/had friends surrounding me because I was emotionally neglected as a child—this was around ages 6-10, so this thought process had a lot of impacts. I verbally talked to these parts and they often knew information I never remembered learning, and they often came around the most when I was lonely.

I don’t have a stable identity, and I haven’t had one for the entirety of my life. If I try to sit and think about it, my head will turn to TV static and shut off any chance of understanding my situation. I spend about 80-90% of my time going through the motions of life without any acknowledgment of my identity, thoughts, feelings, sensations, or perceptions in life.

Trauma doesn’t have to be a serious case of SA or physical abuse, it is possible it could be years of emotional neglect causing you to turn inward. Bullying, oppression, poverty, disability, physical illness, messy divorces/parents NOT divorcing, war, and many other issues are extremely taxing on a child.

This disorder is covert and nearly undetectable in most cases. Sometimes this means that it’s nearly impossible to see in ourselves. The whole point is to hide and make sure we “function” correctly in society, even at the expense of ourselves. It’s a coping mechanism our brain decided was the safest route to survive.

Identity disruptions, memory gaps, and all these things are not stable, concrete experiences. They are fluid. They can be wildly inconsistent, and you don’t have to be on the far end of the spectrum to experience these issues.

I’m not saying this as a genuine diagnosis of “You MUST have DID” because there are many different aspects that could impact this. I know that there are also like- labels that encompass different aspects that include trauma. However, this is just something I have noticed while scrolling through tumblr recently. This also isn’t targeted in any way, but if it resonates with you, I think learning about DID in medical contexts isn’t a bad idea (or at least learning of dissociation).

I have seen that a big reason many people get nervous to interact with traumagenic spaces is because of how aggressive and toxic they can be, which I understand is definitely a problem we see. It’s definitely a product of how DID is and what societal hatred does to marginalized communities. I take a very chilled and laid back approach to pretty much anything, so if you feel too scared to interact with the traumagenic community, I don’t mind trying to help!

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anjellaufeyson · 1 year ago

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The truth lays within jealousy- Bellamy Blake

Warnings: basically just cursing and knife play

Summary: Bellamy's your enemy but things begin to take a turn once you start fighting to push through emotions you feel towards each other.

Bellamy Blake made my blood boil, and I prayed I made him feel the same way. I was best friends with his sister, Octavia. Meaning, I had no choice but to be in the same tent or room as him. The rivalry between Bellamy and I formed when the 100 first came to Earth. We were on dividing sides, he had everyone in his control and made them feel free but that ended dangerously. I was with the group that wanted to help and make sure we survived.

“Do you always have to disagree with me, Blake?”

He turned to look my way, his hand resting on the map below our waists laying on a table. “Do you always have to have disagreeable ideas–Kane?” He spit my last name out as if it left a bitter taste.

I’m just thankful he didn’t call me that other name, the one he knew I so deeply despised. My eyes rolled on instinct, “You’re such a dick, you are aware of that flaw right?”

He glared my way, “You always keep me aware don’t you, princess?”

I fucking hated him, “Don’t call me that, Blake.”

“What will you do if I say it again?”

My father made me train with guards on the Ark since I was a child, I could easily take Bellamy, and him forgetting that made me always want to remind him. I stabbed my knife into the wood table and as soon as I did Octavia walked in.

She moved the tent opening away, “What is going on?”

Bellamy folded his arms making his muscles fight with his shirt. I tried my best to not stare but as much as I loathed this man and wished him nothing but the absolute worst–he was the formation of my desires. And that left lingering resentment. “Your friend is threatening me, O.”

I unstuck the knife and pointed it at him from the other side of the table as I talked, “He was testing me, Tavia. It’s his favorite pastime,” I said staring harshly at Bellamy.

“How about you both go train, maybe away from each other? You can work with Murphy and I’m sure you can find someone, Bell.”

I gave a half smile, “I’m sure every–what’s the number now?” I made it look like I was deep in thought, “Like 50 girls now? Are willing to train with you, you know your way around the 100, Blake.”

Bellamy gave me dead eyes as his jaw clenched. I struck a nerve. “O, get out.”

Octavia usually hates when Bellamy orders her around just cause he's older than her but she listened without a fight this time. She knew I crossed some form of a line. She mouthed sorry to me and walked out.

I moved over to him, my knife laying close to his throat. He didn't care, he didn't even bat an eye. He almost smirked at the notion.

“Tell me, princess, was I supposed to pent up everything I was feeling like you do? Tell me, how's that going for you?”

My eyes widened a bit, “I’m sorry do you want me to just go sleeping around with every dude on this earth because what? I can’t deal with my emotions correctly?”

He bit his tongue.

“I guess maybe I should take your advice because I see how greatly it’s been going for you. The known asshole you only go to for a hit and quit it.”

Bellamy eyed me, “Is this you trying to offer up, princess?”

My breath was shaky, I scoffed, “Go float yourself.” I stormed out of the tent and went to the only place inside Arkadia where you could blow off steam. The training spot. Bellamy usually overwatches, sometimes with Lincoln so I wouldn’t be surprised if he made his way over here.

Murphy made his way over to me, “Need a partner?”

I nodded my head and decided to not take my anger out on him–at least not with words. “Yes, but I can’t promise I’ll go easy on you, Murphy.”

He smiled as he got into his stance, “I didn’t expect you to. I remember seeing you training from time to time with soldiers. I’m going to have to bring my A-game now.”

I laughed and it made me feel a bit better, say what you want about Murphy–but his sarcasm and wit will always make you laugh. I got into position and Murphy punched towards me and I moved my hand fast enough to push it away and block it. We kept going back and forth, not taking it seriously.

Soon, as expected Bellamy appeared. He crossed his arms as he analyzed our performances. Suddenly both of us began to take it a bit seriously, but I chose to ignore Bellamy. He knew I was holding back, it showed in Bellamy's face.

“Let me try.”

I ignored him but Murphy stopped fighting, I tried to regain my breath. Murphy was like Bellamy’s sidekick since the beginning, that faded and nobody tried to make an enemy of Bellamy. Like it or not he did run a lot of things we live by. Especially with Clarke gone.

He got into position and I immediately went to attack. I moved close and elbowed his face causing him to move forward. I went straight for a kick to his bent knee and easily got him down. When getting up his hand stayed on my thigh as he rised up, it was like he was purposefully trying to mess me up. That could be the only reason.

“Damn Bell, maybe she should replace you as a trainer,” Octavia said while spectating. Monty and Jasper laughed.

Bellamy stood up and hit me immediately in the gut. From the force, I took a couple of steps back, and I cursed under my breath. He shrugged with a grin forming on his lips. When he went to pull another move I grabbed his arm pointed it up, and used my left arm to push down on his arm. I twisted his shoulder and I knew I was causing pain. I had this move done to me and I was in pain for a couple of days.

For a split second, I heard a groan from him, it almost put a smile on my face. “C’mon Blake, are you even trying? If you lose this–I can only assume where you’re going to go to…or who.” Maybe it was a low blow but he pissed me off before.

My fist came towards him and he grabbed my arm tightly, almost hard enough to leave a bruise, and flipped me onto the ground. I tried not to give him the satisfaction of knowing I was hanging onto this fight by a thread. I kicked his stomach and he caught my leg and tried to make me fall but I did the one trick that took me years to master–I kicked with enough force off the ground for a second to gain a stance to be able to kick him back.

Bellamy went to hit me in the face but I got to him first and elbowed him. He spit out blood and turned his head up with a grin as he wiped the blood. He tricked me and by making it seem like he was going for a low attack, I didn’t move up in time to block him and he punched me. My lip began to bleed.

“Guys, I think you should stop now. You proved you both can fight–now stop,” Octavia warned.

We ignored her warning and kept going. I was determined to beat him, and I didn’t have a real reason why. Part of me wondered if this was my only source of letting my emotions go, maybe I wasn’t that different from that man that I hated. We are both stubborn, witted, determined, quick-tempered, reckless, and aggressive.

“One hit and we’re done,” he said. “Better make yours count, princess,” he whispered. The way he made it seem, that nickname was for our ears only. He never said it loud enough for others to hear and I almost preferred it that way. And when he did, he was only focused on me. As if nobody else was on the earth with us.

My thoughts were distracted and he immediately brought me down. My back hit the ground and I winced in pain, my back arched a bit hoping that would help the pain. Before anyone could help, Bellamy quickly moved to my side. “Are you okay,” he asked almost frantically in a low voice. He sounded genuine.

The gaze I had on him changed, it softened even though I was in pain. I was utterly confused. “What are we doing,” I whispered, his back covering everyone’s view of my lips. At best, they’d hear mumbles.

“Your solution to letting your emotions out, remember?” He lightly laughed, “Fuck, we’re idiots.” Bellamy brushed his thumb on my bottom lip, “Truce?”

My brow almost furrowed, “Truce? Does that mean we suddenly don’t hate each other?”

He laughed and began to help me up, “No, definitely not. You’re still the bane of my being.”

I stood up and got my words out fast enough before everyone crowded me to see if I needed Abby, “And you’re still the only person I hate in this world.”

Bellamy slowly backed away as we kept our eyes on each other, everyone kept asking if I was okay but I didn’t reply. I was too fixated on the man I detested. “I’m fine, I’m fine,” I said while brushing past them. The one person who got horrendously hurt was Bellamy, yet he didn’t complain or stop them from helping me.

“I’ll help you to, Abby,” I said putting his arm around my shoulder which felt oddly–right. When I looked back to show Octavia I was going to help him, I just saw a group of disbelieving faces. I’d be shocked too, never would I have ever felt pity or thought of helping Bellamy. “I kicked your ass.”

He laughed as if he didn’t have drops of blood on his shirt, “I’d call it a fair fight.”

“I’d call it my win.”

He glanced at my lips then my eyes, we came to a halt. “You want to finish this?”

I could feel his hand brushing along my neck, “I think we’re probably banned from training together for a bit. Though I think that wasn’t a training session–that was fighting.”

Bellamy’s gaze dropped, he stared at me, almost desperate as if he was yearning for something he never even got to get ahold of for years. His touch became more apparent, he stared at my lips as he talked. “I’m not talking about in the training spot.”

My lips parted and suddenly every feeling I had for him disappeared. Only one stayed- the desire I clung to. Instead of going to Abby, Bellamy and I went into his tent.

It was as if both our strengths had been regain, like we were both pushing our limits to be ignoring our pain to mix it with pleasure. Bellamy took his shirt off with such poise and it made me roll my eyes. I started undressing myself also. My eyes lingered on his chest, God, he was so defined. Like a Greek god or a statue made out of generosity.

"My eyes are up here, princess," he said as he pushes me down onto his bed.

I didn't like how much I secretly enjoyed him calling me princess. "You're so full of it, Blake."

He kissed me roughly, as if we didn't have time to spare to be kind to one another. Our hate lingered and I loved it. I winced in pain because of my lip and that caused him to groan into my mouth. He was making it harder and harder for me to not rush this.

I switched spots with Bellamy, God forbid he lets me control one thing. I kissed down his neck being anything but gentle to the parts I knew he was going to have a bruise at tomorrow.

"Fuck," he whispered.

My hands traveled down his chest and before I could do anything he traded spots with me. "Watch yourself princess, if you keep going- I don't think I can stop myself."

"I don't want you to."

Bellamy used his knee to spread apart my legs. He put his hand around my neck and slowly pushed down so I’d be lying flat on my back. I felt my stomach growing butterflies. “I will be anything but gentle with you–” He paused and stared at my lips. “But I think you can take it.”

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