#That being said I know it's a pain so I can answer questions if anybody has any

[whumptober]

WHUMPTOBER 2024: PROMPTS LIST

Welcome to Whumptober 2024 — Seventh Time's a Charm!

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

This year’s AO3 Collection can be found here.

This year's playlist can be found here.

The 'Anatomy of a Whumptober Prompt' post can be found here.

And our 'Resources for Writing Sensitive Topics' post is here.

We’re very excited to see the community come together for another year of Whumptober! Go wild with the prompts, and support your fellow creators - we wish you all the fun!

Best of luck and happy whumping,

Mods Vanne, Yenn, Kitty and Surro

(Text versions of the prompts, as well as event information, rules and FAQ are posted below the cut!)

Whumptober 2024 Prompt List

No. 1: RACE AGAINST THE CLOCK

Search Party | Panic Attack | "If only we could hold on.” (Icysami x Renegaderr, Strangers.)

No. 2: TRUST ISSUES

Amusement Park | Role Reversal | “You got away with the crime while the knife's in my back.” (Charlotte Sands, Rollercoaster)

No. 3: SET UP FOR FAILURE

Fingerprints | Wrongfully Arrested | "I warned you."

No. 4: HALLUCINATIONS

Hypnosis | Sensory Deprivation | “You're still alive in my head.” (Billy Lockett, More)

No. 5: SUNBURN

Healing Salve | Heatstroke | "If my pain will stretch that far." (Lottery Winners, Burning House)

No. 6: NOT REALISING THEY'RE INJURED

Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms | Healed Wrong | "It's not my blood."

No. 7: ONLY FOR EMERGENCIES

Unconventional Weapon | Magic with a Cost | "It's us or them."

No. 8: SLEEP DEPRIVATION

Isolation Chamber | Forced to Stay Awake | "Leave the lights on." (Coldplay, Midnight)

No. 9: OBSESSION

Broken Window | Bruises | “Frame me up on the wall, just to keep me out of trouble.” (Fall Out Boy, Irresistible)

No. 10: BLOW TO THE HEAD

Slurred Words | Passing Out from Pain | "I can't think straight."

No. 11: SEEING DOUBLE

Convenience Store | Loneliness | “Leave no trace behind, like you don't even exist.” (Taylor Swift, Illicit Affairs)

No. 12: STARVATION

Underground Caverns | Cannibalism | "Just a little more."

No. 13: TEAM AS A FAMILY

Familial Curse | Multiple Whumpees | "Death will do us part." (Set It Off, Partner's In Crime)

No. 14: LEFT FOR DEAD

Hunting Gear | Blackmail | “Because I want you to know what it feels like to be haunted” (tiLLie, kooL aiD mAn)

No. 15: CHILDHOOD TRAUMA

Painful Hug | Moment of Clarity | "I did good, right?"

No. 16: NECROSIS

Swamp | Wound Cleaning | "No, I can't feel anything."

No. 17: NOWHERE ELSE TO GO

Ruined Map | Shipwrecked | "We had a good run."

No. 18: REVENGE

Unreliable Narrator | Loss of Identity | “I see what's mine and take it.” (Panic! at the Disco, Emperor's New Clothes)

No. 19: BLOOD TRAIL

Abandoned Cabin | One Way Out | "Is there anybody alive out there?" (Bruce Springsteen, Radio Nowhere)

No. 20: EMOTIONAL ANGST

Shoulder to Cry On | Giving Permission to Die | "It's not your fault."

No. 21: BODY HORROR

Body Horror | Tattoo Gun | Spirit Possession | “Let the bedsheet soak up the tears.” (Apparat feat. Soap & Skin, Goodbye)

No. 22: BLEEDING THROUGH BANDAGES

Tourniquet | Reopening Wounds | "Oh that's not good."

No. 23: FORCED CHOICE

Public Display | Broken Pedestal | "I'm doing this for you."

No. 24: RADIATION POISONING

Collapsed Building | Equipment Failure | “I never knew daylight could be so violent.” (Florence + The Machine, No Light, No Light)

No. 25: SURGERY

Stitches | Being Monitored | "It's for your own good."

No. 26: NIGHTMARES

Breakfast Table | Parting Words of Regret | “I'm haunted by the lies that I have loved, the actions I have hated.” (Poe, Haunted)

No. 27: VOICELESS

Laboratory | Muzzled | “I have no mouth and I must scream.”

No. 28: DENIAL

CCTV | Exposure | "They caught me red handed."

No. 29: FATIGUE

Labyrinth | Burnout | "Who said you could rest?"

No. 30: RECOVERY

Hospital Bed | Holding Back Tears | "What have I done?"

No. 31: ASKING FOR HELP

Therapy | Making Amends | "I'm alive, I'm just not well." (Elliot Lee, Alive, Not Well.)

Alternatives List:

Body Swap

Communication Barrier

Finding Old Messages

Forgotten

Friendly Fire

Motion Sickness

No-Holds-Barred Beatdown

Regret

Secrets Revealed

Shivering

Survivor's Guilt

Time Loop

Used As Bait

Venom

Vermin

Event Info & Rules

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 of prompts into your work). Feel free to run rampant on interpretation. For example, if the prompt is “flame", you could create something with reference to a candle/campfire, your character could have suffered a burn, or the flame could be a reference to an ‘old flame’ - an old relationship. It’s truly down to you!

In total, there are 4 prompts for each day. 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. There is also a list of 15 alternative prompts that can be subbed in for any day, again to give participants as much creative freedom as possible.

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

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

#whumptober2024 …..(the event tag)

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

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

#altprompt …..(if you use an altprompt, tag the post with the number of the prompt you replace)

#fandom or #OC, …..(ironman, original content, oc, etc.)

#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)

#nsfwhump …..(only for nsfw content)

#your own tags go here

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

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

Whumpers who produce content for 31 total theme days are considered event completionists and will be tagged in a masterpost at the end of the month. A form will be published at the beginning of November asking you to tell us if you completed. This is based on trust and we will not check this.

Frequently Asked Questions

Please read this before you send an ask!

TIMELINE

July: Trope voting form released. Late August: Prompt list is released for at least four weeks of preparation time. Tropes cannot be posted earlier than August 25th because of Moderator obligations in real life. (But, you know, go ahead and start writing/drawing, and add the themes in later, if you want!) September: Do as much or as little on your works as you want. You can prepare everything in advance or let September go by with vibes and start working in October. It’s up to you. October 1st: Challenge begins! A storm of whump breaks upon us all! During this time, some posts will be reblogged to the whumptober archive blog. We open the yearly AO3 collection for posting (optional). November 1st: The challenge is officially over! Completionist form opens for those who want to be included in the hall-of-fame. Early November: We release completionist and participant badges, solicit feedback, and post a hall-of-fame list of completionists by the 10th.

PARTICIPATION AND COMPLETION

Q: What counts as participation? Create or continue at least one work inspired by one of this year’s prompts. Q: What counts as completion? Creating work(s) inspired by at least one prompt from each day (or alts), for a total of 31 unique prompts. Q: Do I need to create 31 works? No. You can, if you want. Or you can create one work that you add to every day with a new prompt. Or several works that combine prompts. You can also update an existing work by adding new material with the current prompts. Q: Do I need to post my works somewhere to be a completionist or a participant? No. Q: How do you know I actually completed the challenge? We’ll take your word for it! Q: Do I have to finish my work(s) to be a completionist? No, you can post WIPs. And you’re not obligated to finish them in October, but if you want it to count towards being a completionist, you must have completed 31 prompts by the end of the month. So for example, if you’re writing a long fic and you fit 31 different prompts into the writing you did in October, it’s okay if that fic isn’t finished by the time October ends, you’ll still be a completionist. Q: Is co-writing/illustrating allowed? Yes, absolutely, and it would count towards being a completionist for both/all of you. Q: Is there a min/max limit on word count for written works? No. Q: Is there a min/max limit of quality for art? No. Q: Do I have to do something each day to be a completionist? No. You can skip days whenever you want, and as long as 31 daily prompts (or alts) are in your works done in October, you can be a completionist. For example, if you wrote a 1000-word ficlet that covers prompts in days 2, 3, and 17, you can check all three days off your list even though it’s only one work. Q: Is this challenge just for fics? No! Artworks, GIFsets, headcannons, rec lists, poetry, moodboards, or any other creative work is encouraged. Q: Can I combine Whumptober with other creation challenges? Absolutely, as long as the other challenges allow it too.

PROMPTS

Q: How do the prompts work? There are FOUR prompts per day: a theme and three ideas. You can use one, two, three, or all four prompts for each day. If you don’t like any of the daily prompts, you can substitute one of the ALT prompts instead. Q: How strictly/literally should we interpret the prompts? As literally or as figuratively as you want. For example, if the theme is WATER, that could mean drowning, waterboarding, raining, swimming, take place underwater, be lost at sea, construct a metaphor about a character’s mood that changes like a flowing river, crying, or whatever else you can think of that fits that theme. Q: Can I combine prompts? Is there a limit on how many? No limit and combine as many as you’d like. If you create a work that checks off multiple prompts, that work will count for a fill of multiple prompts. You need to address 31 different prompts to be an official completionist, but you don’t have to produce 31 separate works.

WORKS

Q: What’s whump? Hurting a character, whether that’s physically, emotionally, intellectually, psychologically, or any other way you can think of. Comfort afterwards is optional. Angst is emotional whump, so it counts. Q: How do I know if it’s whumpy enough? If your character is just mildly inconvenienced, it probably needs more whump. However, no participant has to prove whumpiness to the mods. Whatever you write is up to you. Q: What kind of characters can I create for? Anything. Generic “whumpee,” OC, PC, NPC, major characters, minor characters, or whatever you want. There are no limits. Q: Does it have to take place in a specific fandom? No, you can create works for your own worlds or for fandoms or for both. You can also create more generic or pan-fandom works. You can do cross-overs or use OCs, whatever you want. Q: Can I create AI-created works? We will not reblog or promote any works we know to be generative AI-created. Q: Is there anything we’re not allowed to write? As long as it contains whump and is based on our prompts, it’s fine. Please courtesy tag your works if you post them so people who follow the #whumptober2024 tag can filter according to their preferences. Q: What about sex, minor characters, and potentially disturbing content? You can create whatever works are legal in your country and post them accordingly. Please courtesy tag anything you think might be objectionable if you post to Tumblr so people who follow the #whumptober2024 tag can filter according to their preferences.

POSTING

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. There is an AO3 archive for Whumptober 2024, as well as the parent collection for works completed outside of the event. 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? We won’t be reblogging any work predating October 1st. Q: Can I post late? Yes. For the sake of our hardworking Post Fairies, only a day’s themes will be reblogged to @whumptober-archive each day of October. But you can post whenever. Some of us are still working on and posting Whumptober fics from years ago. Q: Do I have to use your tags? Only on Tumblr and only if you want us to reblog your work on @whumptober-archive. Q: How do I have my works reblogged to the archive? Properly tagged posts will be reblogged to @whumptober-archive. If you want the official archive blog to reblog you, post on Tumblr and tag correctly (see this FAQ link for more info on tagging). Please note not all posts will be reblogged each day. Q: Can we @ you? For questions and comments, of course. We’ll be getting a flood of notifications, so if you really want us to see something send an ask. Q: Can I cross post on other blogs? Yes, multiple platforms and blogs are perfectly acceptable, as long as they allow cross-posting (to us). You can also post different works to different accounts under different names, without posting them everywhere at once. If you post some works under your main and others under an alt blog, that’s fine for completionist purposes. 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, which can be found here. The blog is the official archive, so please respect the personal boundaries of any whumpers in your social circle (don’t out anyone as a participant who would prefer not to be outed).

Most importantly, have fun, create, and enjoy all the whump posted this October!

[misshugs]

The elevator game || Colby Brock x Reader

[req by anon] You knew you were sensitive to the other side, but you didn't expect a silly little game from the internet to give you this much of an impact.

warnings: cursing, paranormal activity, reader getting (slightly) attacked by ghosts, sensitive/medium!reader, degrading, angst? still not sure what the meaning of it is tbh

a/n: this is my first request ever, i hope i didn't let you down dear anon. Concept based on this video

word count: 2.5k (not proofread)

[u n e d i t e d]

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"What's up guys, it's Sam and Colby!" Colby screamed towards the camera, as always.

"Today we are here at the Driskill Hotel, also known as the most haunted hotel here in Texas." Sam continues.

"We're here to figure out why this place is so haunted and what message the ghosts here wanna tell the people. And for this video guys, we have a very special someone!" Colby says, moving to the side so that you're visible to the camera.

Waving at it and smiling, you were greeted by Colby's hands wrapped around your shoulders. "Thank you, thank you. Hello, dear people. It is I." They laugh.

"How are you feeling about this? Are you excited?" Sam asks, putting the camera on the both of you.

"I am! The place is HUGE and honestly, just looks so good!"

"Right?? When we got in it was just like a burst of shock at how gorgeous this place is." Sam said and Colby nodded.

"If it weren't haunted I'd probably come here more often, but I can already feel all of these... energies walking around, I wouldn't last too long."

"Oh, right. For anybody that doesn't know, Y/n is actually a bit of medium?" Colby asks while looking at you, making you nod. "Yeah, so she's sensitive to like the energy of shadow figures and things like that, so maybe we'll get to experience something interesting tonight!"

"I'd say hopefully not but that wouldn't make it fun I guess." You laugh and so do they while you explain it is a pain in the ass to feel those things constantly. "It is almost as if you're constantly paranoid about someone looking at you, y'know what I mean?"

"Oh yeah, for sure." Colby noded.

"Yeah so that, but those stares are more physical than anything, there are times where I can feel people walking behind me and when I look back, there's no one."

"I can just imagine how creepy that must feel." Sam said and you chuckled.

"Oh yeah. You have no idea." You smiled.

"Well then, shall we begin the investigation?" Colby asked you, smiling. You quickly smiled back.

"Of course." You kissed him softly before Sam could even turn off the camera.

"Oh, gross man. I'll have to edit that out." He said jokingly and you laughed, rolling your eyes.

"But seriously though, let's keep it moving." You said and they agreed.

Walking around, there were a few pieces of lore they had to explain to you beforehand. About the one and only Driskill who created the hotel, about the little girl that broke her neck, so on and so forth.

There were times when you had this eerie feeling of constantly being followed, so you kept your arms interlocked with Colby's.

"You're doing okay so far?" He asked, cautiously caressing your hand. You nodded.

"Yeah, just feel like we're being followed." You replied, looking back where there was no one there.

"Really??" Sam asked, looking back as well but seeing nothing. "Do you think we caught a ghost's interest?"

"I mean, probably. There is a difference in between someone that's coming just for the hotel part and us, that are investigating and directly needing their intervention. We're making them curious."

"Well, for whatever spirit that might be following us, you're welcome to answer our questions later on tonight." Colby said loud enough for anything around to listen to it.

Honestly, even those small gestures made you so madly in love with him. The way he touches you softly just for you to make sure you're not alone and he's here for you is such a warming feeling.

Wilst looking around the current room, Colby walked up to a random closed door and tried to walk through.

"She said no closed doors!" Sam exclaimed, probably talking about the tour guide's rules of the place.

"Unless it's... unlocked." Colby responded, making Sam roll his eyes.

"Oop, it's Jim Hogg's room." You said, looking up.

"Who's that?" Sam asked.

"I dunno, it says its name on the top." You point up and they just laughed at the comment. I mean, what were they expecting? You had no idea about whatever story roams around these halls asides from the two main ones they've explained.

"Also I don't think you should be trying even more, like if it's hard to go in it's probably because you're not supposed to."

"We have a bad reputation of breaking into places." Sam admitted and you smiled.

"Yeah, I know. I remember that." You chuckle and hold Colby's hand to pull away from the door.

As they kept on chatting and making interesting comments here and there, you found the elevator and pointed it out. "Oh, is this the one?" Colby asked Sam and he just gave him a stare.

"This is the one what?" You ask and they look at eachother.

Sam sighed. "We were going to keep it until the time came, but we may have a little challenge for tonight that has to do with the elevator."

"Ooooh sounds fun. I wanna do it." You smile.

"You sure?? You have to be by yourself." Colby asked, worried but amused.

"Do you think I can't do this, Mr. Brock? That's offensive." You spat, crossing your hands around your chest.

"No! I meant-" He tried to explain, but you quickly interrupted.

"Cancelled, I tell you. Cancelled!" You look away with your eyes closed, trying not to laugh at the stupid situation unfolding.

"Great." You heard him sigh in defeat as Sam started laughing at the both of you. Looking back with a smile on your face, you hugged him.

"Alright, let's get going already." You giggled, gaining a kiss on the top of your head from your boyfriend.

Walking inside the elevator, it almost felt as if it quickly went down in an unnatural way.

"Did you guys feel like... the elevator dropping three inches?"

"Yeah, kinda of." Sam said.

"Three inches is a lot." Colby replied.

"Three inches is huge." Sam continued.

"I can vouch." You said.

"Mass..." Colby began talking but couldn't hold in the laugh after you said that.

Going back to the main lobby, you all reached out to a girl that was apparently the tourguide. She quickly explained the story of the place, how it ended up being the renouned hotel it came to be.

When she explained that the smell of cigar was one of the main ways Driskill manifested, your eyes went wide. "You're kidding."

"No, did you smell it before?" She asked.

"I did! But it was like, close to the entrance so I thought that maybe someone was smoking. I did find it rare because it was just a glimpse of it for like a solid second and then gone." You explained, making the girl smile.

"Well, that was him."

"No way." Colby said, smiling at you.

"Yup." She nodded, continuing to explain as you all started walking back to the elevator. Going inside, the door closed only to be opened again. "Oh?"

"Did we just pressed five and went to one? It's haunted!" Sam exclaimed.

"That was weird." Colby said, looking at the door.

"It was, that was so weird." The guide said, trying to close the door once again, only for it to open again.

"Does it do that often?" You asked and she shook her head.

"No! It doesn't." She walked back out and talked to someone from out side. "Are you fucking with us?"

"That's so strange- oh, I hit it." You whispered. The guide came back in.

"But you see it, right? I'm pressing five and it like start to go up but then it stops." The door closes once again, only for them to open.

"Oh my god." Sam said, whispering.

"And we're doing a challenge here?" You asked confused, making them laugh.

"Not here exactly." Colby smiled.

"Lemme- I'll go out." You said, walking out of the elevator, watching as the doors began to close, only for them to open once again. "Oh no, that's- that's a malfunction alright."

"And you said it, these malfuction all the time." Colby said to the guide as they walked out of the elevator.

When Sam did it by himself, it started working all over again.

"What the fuck??" Colby yelled.

"Are we like fat? Is it fat shaming us?" You whined, making everyone laugh.

And so, even though your night barely started, you were already having some activity to say the least.

And it kept being that way all night. Constant responses from spirits, intelligent ones at that. The little girl, the woman from the vortex room... all the way down to the challenge you've been anticipating the whole night round.

The elevator challenge.

"I think it might be just me but every single time we pass through this side of the hotel I feel like actually throwing up."

"Wait, really?" Colby asked, worried.

"Like an eerie feeling more than anything, almost like I'm kinda feeling a bit dizzy whenever we pass through here."

"Are you sure you want to do this? You can still back out, or I could go in with you." Colby tried to make you change your mind, but you were settled in it.

"No, I have to do it alone. What if it doesn't work because we're together? You're not gonna let me do this right?"

"I do! I'm just worried." Colby admitted, making you smile.

"You cutie. I love you so much." You said, smiling at him and cupping his face before giving him a quick peck on the lips.

"Y'all are gonna make me puke, another part I'm gonna have to cut out." Sam joked, making you giggle.

"Alright, alright. So, how does this work?" You ask, hugging yourself as you wait for instructions.

It was a simple game. Supposedly, you had to hit the buttons of the elevator in a specific order. In the last one, you had to invite in a lady. If the ritual worked, you were supposed to start going up into another world. If it didn't, well, nothing happened and it failed.

"So... I'm about to get isekai'd? We're going to an anime, brothers." You laughed at your own joke while they handed you your camera.

"I send you the order, just in case." Sam continued, and you nodded.

"Thank you, 'cause I already forgot." You turned on your phone as well as the camera and walked in.

"Any last words?" Colby asked cheekishly, making you smile.

"See you in the other side." You answered, before the door closed. You sighed, putting the camera up to your face. "Alright, so... I'm supposed to hit this one first." Switching the camera back to the buttons, you hit the number four.

It began moving. "Oh, good. It would've been a mess if it already fucked up. Alright..." You sighed. "I didn't told them this, but I do find the thought of getting stuck in an elevator horrifying. I just agreed because maybe it might help me out, but it doesn't work the fact that I can feel so many spirits around this area specifically every time we walk past it." You explain before getting on the next floor, touching the next button.

Back down on the lobby, Sam and Colby were talking.

"I didn't want her to do it, honestly. I was gonna do it myself." Sam said.

"Right? She's our guest too, what if something happens to her? That would be the death of me."

"Don't jinx it, brother. She'll be alright."

Boy they were wrong.

Halfway through, your vision started to get blurry, your legs were shaky and you couldn't brush off the feeling of pressure on your chest. It was starting to make you nervous, even more so the fact you were alone.

You started thinking to yourself. What if something really did happen? What if you summon something your body couldn't handle? What if it really did send you to another world?

It happened so quickly, that you have already reached the last floor before you knew it. Gulping down your dry throat, you began to speak. "Alright, if there's something... out... oh fuck." Your vision got blurry and you could feel an inmense ammout of power flushing through the elevator doors even before it opened up.

You couldn't hold it together, it was too much for you to handle as you were suspecting before. Although you tried to stay up, your legs couldn't hold your weight up anymore and you passed out, falling down to the floor, hitting your head strongly onto the hard floor of the elevator.

Luckily, the ritual didn't work. It began going down and the guys, mainly Colby, were anxiously waiting for the doors to open. When they did, their faces fell.

Colby screamed out your name, quickly rushing in and holding your head. "Love?? Sweetheart, what happened? Wake up, please. Oh God." He began shaking, carrying you outside of the elevator so that it was slightly more comfortable.

"What happened? Oh my fucking God." Sam whispered, grabbing your camera from the elevator's floor and walking out.

"She's not responding, Sam." Colby nervously said, making sure you were at least still alive.

You were.

"Should I call an ambulance or something?" Sam asked. "Oh, no. I have the keys with me."

"Let's take her to the hospital, quickly." He lifted you up from the floor and hurriedly got out of the building and to the hospital.

You were alright, luckily. It seemes you have just fainted, but you falling down to the floor and hitting your head so hard made it a bit more complicated than what it had to be.

Colby felt bad, horrible even to think that this could've happened to you.

He should've been more careful, he should've known you were too sensitive to all of these energies so that you would go alone and out to make something so nerve racking. He should've been more insisting, rather than going with the flow merely because of a video.

He let his love have that type of experience because of a mere video.

It devastared him. Made him feel absolutely awful about it. While waiting for you to wake up, he kept on downgrading himself thinking about how he's the worst possible boyfriend.

It all stops when you finally wake up. Looking around the white room, confused.

"What happened?"

"It looks like you fainted... I'm so sorry for letting you do that all by yourself, I should've stopped you, I should've at least gone with you, I'm so sorry that you had to go through that because-"

"Love. Love!" You held his cheeks softly, making him quietly stop ranting, you smiled. "You know I wanted to do it, I was the stupid one for forgetting that big energy rafts can affect me a lot, I'm so sorry baby." You kissed his nose, reassuring him everything was alright.

And honestly, he needed to hear it. From you, specifically. Sam was trying to make him calm down but it didn't really work. It had to be you, your voice, your smile.

The one thing that made him whole all over again.

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I MAY HAVE DONE TOO MUCH FILLER FOR NO GODDAMN REASON- also hoping that dear anon liked it-

thank you for reading, loves~! likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated <3

~nikkõ

[yelena-bellova]

Heartfirst: A Ted Lasso Story - Chapter One

Chapter One: A Chance Meeting

Plot: Fresh off a sudden sacking, Y/n unexpectedly encounters salvation in the form of the kindness of two strangers. (Takes place between s2 and s3)

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: language

A/N: Hihellowelcome. I had no intention to write anything for Ted Lasso, but this idea came to me as a migraine-induced dream and I figured I’d give it a go. I’ll leave it up for a day or so to see if anyone’s remotely interested and if so, I’ll do a full series.

I’m tagging it under the characters who will play central parts in the series, so no one come for me if I’m “tagging it wrong.” If anybody wants to be added to the (potential) taglist, just drop a comment.

Seriously, I don’t know what this is. I’m just following the Writing Fairy where she takes me. Enjoy!

————

There was no better place to be sad than at a bar.

Y/n swirled her second glass of white wine, watching the liquid spin and bubble slightly. She was in that comfortable space of numbness where the alcohol was mixing with her sorrow and diluting it enough that she didn’t know one from the other. Though she suspected that she felt she could have three more glasses and it still wouldn’t fully take away the pain.

This was the third job - the third job - she’d been fired from in the last two years. Where one might start to question if they were the problem, Y/n didn’t have to venture there. Either the companies had faced budget cuts and her position had been deemed unnecessary or they’d gone under. This time it was the latter. She hadn’t felt particularly passionate about the work, but that had never bothered her. Work wasn’t supposed to do anything more than keep the lights on and the fridge stocked.

And yet, at 5:02, as she packed up her bag and readied herself to head home, her boss had called her into his office and told her that her position was being eliminated. The world that had seemingly just settled back down was spinning once again.

Y/n sighed, pressing the rim of her glass to her forehead. She’d been walking London in a haze since 5:03 until she found her way into some posh restaurant. She’d managed to order her drink and not much else, too wrapped up in shame and confusion. Why was seemingly nothing working out? Why did she keep getting placed in these inevitably temporary positions? Was a business degree some cruel joke the universe had led her to and the punchline was repeatedly playing out?

Throwing back the last of the white, she figured it was worth a go to see if her answers lay at the bottom of another glass.

“Can I get one more?” Y/n asked the bartender, shaking the stemware a little to signal them.

A few feet and a world away, sat at a table were two blonde women, engrossed in their own conversation. During one of their natural pauses, both their eyes caught on the hunched figure sitting alone at the bar.

“That’s a picture worth a thousand words,” Rebecca mused.

“Right?” Keeley replied, “She’s been here since before you got here. Hasn’t moved.”

Rebecca hummed in agreement, there was some part of the woman’s sadness that was palpable. Her arms were crossed over the bar as if the shield herself. She was in no rush to finish her drink indicating that she had nowhere to be. This was shame and heartbreak and all other emotions that, while men were entirely capable of feeling, typically landed only on the heads of women.

Rebecca and Keeley turned to one another at the same time with the same idea.

Keeley slid out of the booth, the more extroverted of the two, and carried her drink with her to the bar. She approached the woman carefully, coming into her peripheral vision slowly as not to startle her. Though Keeley suspected the restaurant could spontaneously burst into flames and the girl would have barely moved an inch.

“Hi,” Keeley said softly, her voice’s cheery pitch raising slightly, “Can I buy your next glass?”

Y/n turned her head to the petite blonde woman smiling at her. It had easily been an hour since she’d had to say anything to anyone other than the bartender. She had to try and remember how to speak.

“Oh,” she started, slightly confused, “Um…I, uh-“

Keeley quickly held up a hand, “Oh, I’m not, like, hitting on you or trying to recruit you for a cult. Me and my friend, Rebecca,” she pointed back towards her and Rebecca’s table, “Saw that you’d been here a while and you looked sad and we just wanted to see if we could lift your spirits is all.”

Y/n looked over her shoulder towards where the woman was pointing, her finger aimed towards a taller and older blonde who gave a polite wave.

“Oh,” Y/n said again, unable to tell if the depression or the wine was making her feel so tired, “That’s very kind of you.”

Keeley raised an expectant eyebrow, “So can we?”

Y/n gestured to her glass that had yet to be refilled, “I suppose so.”

With ease, Keeley slid onto the barstool beside Y/n. When the bartender came around with the bottle, she patted the counter. “This round’s on our bill,” she informed the employee, pointing out their booth.

“Thank you,” Y/n said in as warm a tone as she could manage.

“We’ve gotta look out for each other, yeah?” Keeley replied with a smile, “Can I ask why you’re drinking alone?”

The whole point of not calling any of her friends or now former co-workers was to not have to talk about being let go. And yet there was something about the woman that Y/n trusted, that she felt drawn to even. Like she could tell her all her secrets and she wouldn’t bat an eye, but rather make her feel better about them.

“It wasn’t a guy, was it?” Keeley asked, “‘Cause if it was, you need something way more expensive that’ll get you drunk way faster.”

Y/n unexpectedly chuckled, “No, I got sacked today.”

“Oh, shit,” Keeley adjusted her tone to match the disappointment, “I’m sorry.”

“I wish I could say it was my fault,” Y/n continued, the wine stripping away a layer of self-consciousness, “Then there’d be a good reason at least, something I can fix. But this,” she tapped her pointer finger against the counter, “Is the third job in two years I’ve been let go from.”

Keeley’s eyebrows furrowed in shock, “Who the fuck are you working for?”

Another laugh escaped Y/n’s chest, “No one extraordinary,” she caught herself, “No one at all, at the moment. It’s not even exciting or anything, just boring business shit. They all go under or they all just implode,” Y/n lowered her voice, “And, for some God only knows reason, I’m always caught in the crossfire.”

“Hang on,” Keeley grabbed her drink and hopped off the stool, “You’re going to come and join us.”

“What?” Y/n looked to the woman, “No, I’m not interrupting your night with my bad luck. At this point, it might be contagious.”

“Absolutely not,” Keeley pushed back, wrapping her hand around Y/n’s wrist and practically pulling her off her stool, “You’re going to come and drink with us and you can bitch and moan as much as you’d like.”

The absurdity of it was tripping Y/n up and also drawing her further in. Strangers were never this kind and yet, the woman and her friend were both gesturing her towards their table and into their evening.

Relenting, Y/n grabbed her purse, her fresh white wine and followed the small blonde back to the booth.

“Success,” the older woman cheered as Keeley and Y/n arrived, “Rebecca.”

“Oh shit, yeah, I bought you a drink and didn’t even tell you my name,” Keeley laughed, sliding into the booth seat, “I’m Keeley.”

“Rebecca, Keeley,” Y/n repeated the names as she sat down, trying to put a polite amount of space between them, “I’m Y/n.”

“Y/n here’s been sacked today,” Keeley hit the highlights before Rebecca got the chance to ask, “Third time in two years.”

Rebecca’s brows furrowed in shock, “Bloody hell. What does a person do to get fired three times in two years?”

Though it was phrased accusingly, Y/n could tell there was no actual malice behind it. “Hitch your wagon to the wrong fucking horse.”

Keeley and Rebecca stared back in silence.

“Sorry,” Y/n apologized, remembering what continent she was on, “American expression.”

“That was my next question,” Rebecca replied, picking up her glass of merlot.

“I went to school here on scholarship,” Y/n explained the cultural difference, “After I graduated, I was so settled that I didn’t feel like leaving. Though I’m starting to question if that was the right choice…”

“I suppose you would,” Keeley agreed, “What is it that you do? What’d you get your degree in?”

Y/n took a sip of her chard before answering, “Business with a minor in public relations. I’m the person people pay to handle all the fine print shit they don’t want to deal with, but sometimes I’ve handled press for my companies.”

Y/n was unsure why Rebecca was nudging Keeley with her elbow, but there was clear meaning to it.

“You do PR?” Keeley asked, leaning on the table with her elbows.

“I can, yeah,” Y/n answered, feeling like what she said was under a spotlight, “I’ve been in more of a managerial capacity as of late, but yeah.”

Rebecca smiled into her own glass as she drank, as if all the magical pieces of a puzzle she hadn’t meant to solve were suddenly coming together.

“Well, shit,” Keeley exclaimed, “I think the universe brought us together tonight.”

Y/n squinted a little, “I’m sorry?”

Keeley excitedly scooted closer to the table, “I’ve just started my own PR firm. You should come and work for me.”

Now she was entirely convinced she was more buzzed than she thought. “What?” Y/n asked.

“It’s just a small start-up,” Keeley explained further, “We’re not that big yet, but it’s good work. We’ve already got some pretty big clients.”

“I-I’m sorry,” Y/n set down her wine, fully invested now in the conversation, “You just met me and you’re offering me a job?”

Keeley shrugged as if she was simply offering to buy lunch, “Yeah, why not? You seem lovely and you’re in need of work and it cannot be a coincidence that we met.”

Suddenly, it all clicked in Y/n’s mind.

“Holy fuck,” she half cried, half whispered, “You’re Keeley Jones, aren’t you? I saw you in Vanity Fair!”

Keeley’s admission was her toothy grin.

“And,” Y/n’s raised finger drifted to Rebecca, who seemed to already guess what was coming, “Shit, you own th-th-the football club!”

“AFC Richmond,” Rebecca filled in the missing title with a smile.

“Holy shit,” Y/n whispered, letting her back hit the booth. The night was taking an entirely different turn than she’d expected.

“My firm exclusively handles PR for Richmond,” Keeley explained, “Are you a football fan?”

Still in shock, Y/n managed to answer. “I mean, sort of? I don’t root for anyone, really. I dated an Arsenal fan for a while, but I don’t really watch it all that much, to be honest.”

“Oh, well,” Rebecca adjusted herself in her seat, “We’re going to have to change that.”

“But-“ Y/n brought herself back to the original topic, “How can you offer me a job? You don’t know me. I could be a terrible employee for all you know.”

“You said that the firings weren’t your fault,” Keeley stated.

Y/n shrugged, “How do you know I’m not lying?”

“Oh, please,” Rebecca mumbled over a bite of her appetizer, “You’re far too smart to be fired for a valid reason. I’ve known you ten seconds and I can already tell that.”

Y/n chuckled, this was the most she’d laughed in a long time and it was with strangers that were feeling less and less like strangers.

“Look,” Keeley spoke up, laying her hands out on the table, “You don’t have to say yes. You can forget this night ever happened…but I really don’t think you should.”

Y/n’s eyes darted back and forth between Keeley and Rebecca, weighing her options and the insanity of the proposition. These were women higher up in business than she’d ever aspired to. These were women who knew exactly what they wanted and what they were doing, and they were reaching down to offer her a helping hand.

All her life, Y/n had been adrift. Floating on a little raft that somehow managed to weather every storm. Nothing had yet to find her that felt like magic, nor had she ever sought it out. Attending school in England had been the most shocking decision she’d ever made, and thousands of people chose the same path every day. She had never taken a step fully into the unknown, and sitting across the table from Keeley Jones and Rebecca Welton was the first time she’d ever considered it.

It was that or the unemployment office.

“Y’know,” Y/n sighed and smirked, “If we were men, you’d be making me this offer over the urinals.”

The three women burst into snorts and laughter.

[bluxb3rry]

❝𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞!❞↳෴੭˚ ༘♡·˚₊˚ˑ༄ؘ 💜

Medusa AU! Lee Minho x Blind! male reader! he/him pronouns! English is not my first language! hehe angst and fluff Also, HAPPY NEW YEAR [Not yet but you know] would you like to see me as another fruit or blueberry forever?

── ⋅⋅⋅ ────꒰ ୨ ♡ ୧ ꒱───────

Lee minho was a handsome man, everytime he walked he made at least made one person fall in love at frist sight. He didn't care, he just wanted to be with his cats in his lovely home, him and his toughts.

In some way, he didn't liked being like this, people only looking at him with lust in their eyes, talking to him with only one thougt in their head. He wished that someone could touch his hair, his lips, his neck, his body, with pure love, and the soft words "i love you" being murmured in his ear. That someone could kiss him with passion and that could build a fire inside him.

He oh so wanted to be loved, that he believed in the men that told him those words, he ignored everything because he was told "i love you" he ignored the warnings in his head and kissed him with passion, feeling loved.

But love isn't real, it's fake, and he learned that with pain, he was punished. He didn't know why, he was loved, he felt safe in that man arms, but he heard an angry scream before that his body changed.

Lee minho was a handsome man, so as a punishment, he was made to a monster. He didn't really looked like one, the snakes that were his new hair didn't damage anything, he would look like a beautiful creature, but, everyone that looked at him would became stone. That made him a monster.

People wanted to kill him, people wanted to take his head as a trophy, but that wasn't even close to what he felt, he felt betrayed because of love. Because of love, he lost his life.

He wished that someone would look at him and tell him "you're still handsome" "you're still are perfect" please, stop calling him a monster, please let him leave that cage of rocks inside a muntain, where only the planst and the rocks can hear his screams and tears. Ignoring the beautiful flowers that grow from the grass, ignoring those snakes that oh tried so hard to help him.

Please someone tell him, tell him that you love him.

-hello?-

Huh, a voice?

-Hello? Is anybody here? im lost!-the voice started to be more close

-a human?-he whispered, a snake answering him with a hiss

He started to get up from the rock, his snake like body transferring him. He looked behind one of the rocks, the human was walking quite dumb in his opinion, he would step on some rocks and hiss, still looking anywhere confused as ever.

-Hello?-the man said again, until he crashed into a big rock and fell to the floor.

-you are one silly human-minho finally talked, getting close to him.

There were a lot of statues around him, men that tried to kill him, men tried to hide but failed. Yet, this guy decided to just walk like nothing, and even ask for help, his help.

-Hello? Who are you?-the men asked looking at him.

Minho was suprised when the men looked but didn't became stone.

-my question is, who are you? i want to know the stupid men that came here-minho talked with a hint of anger in his voice

-oh, um, im sorry mister, im Y/N, as you can see im blind and i don't know how i got lost and, well, here i am-Y/N said with a small smile, his cheeks becoming quite red

-huh, that makes sense-minho walked far away, slapping his snake tail to the mens face-that explains why you aren't stone right now

-stone?-Y/N looked at bit more suprise now-so, you are the snake man that the town talks about-

-something like that, and you don't look so afraid-minho said while playing with one of his snakes.

-well, if you were a really monster, you would have killed me by now, yet you didn't-Y/N said with a smile in his face, looking where he was hoping the men was.

-you are lost, where did you wanted to go anyways that you ended here?-minho sat, kinda, in front of him.

-i was following some people, they said that they were going to look for food but never came back-he laughed a bit-i think they didn't wanted me in the group anymore

Minho just looked at him, not saying a word.

-Lee minho-

-huh?-

-Lee minho, thats my name-

── ⋅⋅⋅ ────꒰ ୨ ♡ ୧ ꒱───────

Minho showed him the town, hiding behind some trees, far away from his cave, yet, Y/N followed him back. He heard him quite easly, since he crashed again into some trees.

"why are you still here" he asked

"well, you didn't pushed me away" Y/N answered

So, time passed, and here they are, beside the small lake that was in the cave. Minho looking at Y/n making some crown flowers with the few that grow there.

-you know how to make those, you look like a professional-he said getting closer to him

-yeah, well my mom used to teach me, it was hard since i only could use my hands but, i learned and i made a lot of them for her and for me-Y/N said finally finishing the two crown flowers, putting one in his own head

-and your father?-minho asked, fixing a bit of the flower crown in Y/N's head

-he, was never there, i didn't mind, i didn't met him but i wish i could hugged him at least one time-Y/N's voice was a bit sad

-men are like that, some of us don't deserve that, i was once a handsome man, but, someone betrayed me-minho said, anger being obvious in his voice

-was?-Y/N asked

-well, if you could see me right now, you would see a monster-

Y/N raised his hands a bit, withouth warning he started to touch Minho face. Minho was suprised but he stay still, now knowing what the other one was doing.

Then he felt his fingers in his lips, touching his cheecks, softly touching his nose and even touched some of the snakes. Y/N touched his neck a bit, then rested his hands in his shoulders, Y/N smiled.

-i think your handsome and kind, if you weren't like that, i would have been dead by now but you helped me and even let me live here-Y/N said-though i do feel sad that i can't see you, dying by seeing you must be a beautiful way to die.

Minho felt tairs falling from his cheecks, oh he waited so long for those words to be said, even before that he became like that. Someone has finally treated him with kind and love, told him how he was.

His heart felt like fire, he didn't know when but he kissed him, he kissed him with passion and you accepted that. The two men in that room knew so little abouth the other, but they felt safe in each others arms.

When they separated, they hugged, Minho face being in withing the shoulder and neck of Y/N.

-i... i think i love you-minho whispered

-i love you too-

Minho felt happy, and with his snakes looking at him and at his new lover, he didn't care, he wasn't a monster.

── ⋅⋅⋅ ────꒰ ୨ ♡ ୧ ꒱───────

[bagopucks]

T. Zegras - Getcha Back

✄————————————

Trevor Zegras x Reader

Requested✨

Word Count: 2.2k

Warning(s): General angst

Woah what’s this?? New content??

—————————————

The tenth time in a week. The tenth time.

“A Romantic Night In Anaheim”

Trevor Zegras spotted out with blonde model. Certainly not his girlfriend, but maybe more his type?

“I’m so fucking sick!” Trevor hadn’t cheated on me. We already clarified that with one another, but I couldn’t don’t do it any more. I was so sick of hearing people talking about Trevor and other girls. I was supposed to be his girl. Not every blonde bimbo that hung off of him in every photo he took.

My heart was physically pained by the decision to leave, but I knew it was going to help me in the end. It would be far more beneficial than sticking around.

“It’s not my fault!”

“I don’t care, Trevor!” I was exhausted. Completely exhausted with my situation. “I don’t care that it’s not your fault! I don’t care that you’re not to blame! I don’t care! What I care about, is constantly being compared to people! Constantly feeling like I have to fight for you! To compete for you! With girls that you don’t even fucking know!”

“That doesn’t mean you have to leave! You can’t just leave!” Trevor was helpless. We were both helpless. He was crying, I was sobbing. We didn’t know how to handle our situation, and in stead of figuring it out together, I simply chose to leave. I chose to take the easy way out.

“I can, Trevor. I can. And I am.”

——————

It had been weeks. I couldn’t exactly avoid Trevor, seeing as I worked at the arena in one of the offices, but I also had a lock on the door that I found beneficial. Despite the fact that at times, guys would stop in and see me after getting out of other meetings.

I was restless for the first week without Trevor. I could barely sleep, I cried through the days and often felt numb in the evenings. Then I’d fall asleep during my lunch hours at work and occasionally when I didn’t have much work to be done during my time at the arena.

Nobody talked to me about Trevor. I didn’t know how he was doing, but I could only assume he was as miserable as I was. Or maybe he’d already moved on.

Certain players would ask how I was doing or what I was up to. Jamie stopped in one day to ask if I was seeing anybody. I didn’t question his motive before answering. It was Jamie after all.

Perhaps I should have questioned his motive. Because if I knew he was asking for Trevor, I wouldn’t have been sitting at my desk with a huge bouquet of flowers in front of my computer. And a sweetly written note on them about how much Trevor missed me.

“Ooh la la,” a sing song voice called from my doorway. My head snapped up to look at the secretary, Gen, as she stepped into my office. “Who’s sending you flowers?”

I was swift to pull the tag off the vase, tucking it under my thigh.

“Nobody important. Just someone trying to get into my pants.” I lied with a shrug. I slowly moved the vase aside.

“Must be some extensive lengths they’re going to. You’re all the rage in Anaheim.”

“I wish,” I scoffed out. Maybe then I wouldn’t have been so hung up on Trevor still.

I loved him. I feared I always would. Leaving him had been hard, and working in the same building was even harder. But still being in love with him after everything was the worst.

“You should see it through. The guy might be looking for more than just what’s in your pants.” She suggested, smiling from ear to ear. “I just came in to let you know we’re getting off early today. Supposed to be severe thunder storms.” I was quick to nod at her words before she left. I stuffed the tag in a bottom drawer of my desk and left it. I assumed it would be the only one.

It certainly wasn’t.

Less than three days later, I had a box of chocolates on my desk with another tag. Another apology from Trevor that I knew was meaningless. I’m sure Trevor meant it when he said sorry, but he had nothing to say sorry for. I simply couldn’t handle all of the bad publicity on social media. I was sick of it. If anybody should have been apologizing, it was me. But I couldn’t give him an inch, because he’d run with it and end up taking a mile. I needed to be disinterested. I needed to convince him and myself, that I was disinterested.

So I took that tag and tossed it into my desk too. I did eat the chocolate though. It was another week before I heard from Trevor. In the form of Jamie.

He waltzed into my office with a bright smile and two left feet, stumbling right into the leg of the couch I had in my office- hurting himself in the process.

He flushed when I laughed at him, but he was swift to distract me from his own clumsiness.

“Trevor sent me up here to talk to you?”

“Uh uh.” I shook my head, my interest immediately dying. I looked back at my laptop.

“Please?”

“We broke up, Jamie.” I found Trevor’s persistence endearing and frustrating at the same time. I was hurting myself more by denying myself the luxury of him.

I looked down at my computer, continuing my work while Jamie stood there. I assumed he’d leave. I hoped he’d leave. When he didn’t. I looked back up at him.

“Trevor and I broke up, Jamie.” I repeated much more slowly.

“I know but-“

“Close my door on the way out, Drysdale.”

He flinched at the use of his last name, but he left nonetheless.

I was hopeful that I had finally stopped Trevor in his tracks. Hopeful that I could start moving on without being harassed. Until I got a message from one of the secretaries one night. An SOS message, calling me into the office for a piece of missing paperwork I had to send her. I was swift to throw on a sweatshirt and leggings in hopes of looking somewhat decent before I left.

When I got to the arena, I slipped in one of the back doors, and almost had a heart attack when I spotted a figure standing by the elevator in the dark. I jumped and gasped.

“It’s okay! It’s okay!” Trevor turned on his phone flashlight, shining it on the floor to light up the area. There were very few lights on. Other than a few over the ice and some in the locker room halls.

“Trevor, oh my god.” I breathed out. Of all people, I never would have expected myself to be relieved to see him.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” He apologized as he walked closer. I took notice of his abnormal height, and when I looked down I spotted his skates.

“What are you doing here?” I looked back up. Trevor’s hair was a hot mess, and even in the dark, I could see the circles beneath his eyes.

“I was waiting for you.”

My brow furrowed in confusion. “Huh?”

“I asked Gen to text you.. the secretary. I thought you wouldn’t come if I asked.” Trevor’s soft words made me want to rip my own heart out and stomp on it.

I wanted to scream at him. To remind him we broke up. To remind him I wasn’t strong enough to see him. Instead, I nodded slowly.

“What did you need me for?” I couldn’t turn him down. Who knew? It might have been an emergency.

“Can you come skate with me?”

Not an emergency.

“Trevor I didn’t even bring my skates.” I mumbled, somewhat annoyed by this whole situation. Annoyed by my feelings. Annoyed by the fact that my heart was beating obnoxiously fast.

“You left them at our place when you left. I brought them with me.”

I frowned. I couldn’t just tell him no. I wanted to. I really did. But I couldn’t.

“Trevor. I don’t know.” I stared down at the skates, afraid if I looked up at him, I’d give in.

“Please? I’m tired. You know I’m clumsy when I’m tired.”

Impulsively, I looked up at him with a suspicious glare. It was my breaking point.

“A quick skate. A quick one.”

That was against my initial plan. I was supposed to ignore his existence. Forget about him. Stop crying about him. This was the opposite of so many plans I had.

I followed Trevor down the hall and into the locker room, where I found his old book bag that held my skates inside.

“Do you need help?”

“I can manage. I’ll meet you out on the ice.”

I could tell Trevor was anxious about leaving my side, especially when he lingered near the tunnel, looking on the verge of speaking. Eventually though, he left the room.

We were both alone again. And after that small bit of contact, it felt like I was back at square one. Choked up and miserable over losing someone I loved so much.

I pulled the skates out and slipped them on as my vision grew bleary with tears. I tightened the laces, stopping only momentarily to consider leaving.

When did I get to this point? The point of questioning whether or not I wanted to be with Trevor? The question of whether he was worth it or not?

When had I decided he wasn’t worth it? The struggle, tension, sadness?

I finished tying my skates and pulled the guards off before I made my way down the tunnel and out to the ice. The arena was dimly lit, but Trevor still looked good whether it was under a million spotlights or a few low lights.

I stood by the open door, watching Trevor skate lazy circles while he surfed through an app on his phone. It was only when I cleared my throat that he looked up to spot me. He skidded to a stop and waited.

I stepped out onto the ice, finding myself meeting him somewhere near the center. Trevor nervously reached for my hand. I gave him a warning look but I slipped my hand into his own nonetheless. He led me to the edge of the ice to skate along the wall, side by side.

“Did you get my flowers?”

Shit.

“Yeah. They smelled nice.”

“And the chocolates?”

Double shit.

“Yes, Trevor.”

“Did you get my Jamie-gram?” I had to stifle a laugh at that.

“I told him to leave my office,” I admitted guiltily.

“Oh.” I looked up at Trevor, giving his hand a gentle squeeze.

“Trevor, I didn’t mean to hurt you.” If I started, I feared I might never stop.

“Yeah.. I know.” He lifted his head, but he still didn’t look at me.

“Please understand it wasn’t my intention. But everybody was constantly talking about the girls you took pictures with. And these girls- god..” I paused. “When I’m out with you? And they just completely ignore my existence?” I shook my head. “I’m not asking for recognition. That’s not what I want. I just wanted people to respect me.”

Trevor’s head finally turned in my direction.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t fix that.” I shook my head at his words. It was never his fault. I never expected an apology.

“Don’t apologize, T. I shouldn’t have been so hard on you for something you couldn’t have fixed. I should have been harder on myself for letting it get between us.”

Our conversation felt messy and misguided. We were both dancing around a subject we didn’t know how to address.

“It doesn’t have to be between us.” Our eyes met. Could it be that simple? If I just took a step back from everything and stopped listening so much. Maybe it could be fixed.

“After everything I did? After how I walked out?” Trevor cut in front of me, and I bumped right into his body. He reached out to hold me upright.

“Just promise me you’ll open up next time instead of blowing up. Promise me you won’t just walk out.”

The first would take some work, but the second promise I could make with certainty.

I missed Trevor. Every single part of him. Even the parts that annoyed me.

“Trevor, I don’t think I could ever stand the guilt of leaving you that way again.” I spoke softly, my hands slowly resting on his chest before I slid them up to clasp around his shoulders.

“So we’ve solved that problem?” Trevor asked quietly, but hopefully. I nodded, flashing a nervous smile.

“You trust me?” I asked.

“I do. I’ve always trusted you.” I nodded once again at his response.

“Can I kiss you then?” His question made my heart melt.

“Thought you’d never ask, Trev.”

✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾

[yarafic]

Imagine 》  being in love with Jeremy but he's not in love with you

I've  been friends with Jeremy Gilbert since we were in Kindergarten. As the years past, I grew feelings for him, but  what a idiotic mistake I've made.

But I had to learn and deal with the pain that I felt whenever I saw him with Vicki and Anna. The only people that knows about my feelings for Jeremy are Stefan and Matt, I'm very greatful they never said a word to no one. 

~~~

"Come on, y/n, tell me whose the guy your in love."Caroline kept pestering.

"Care, I don't want to say so please stop pestering me." I said annoyed.

"Y/n, we're best friends and best friends tell eachother everything. I've told you all my secrets, please tell me. And its not fair that you told Matt and Stefan " She said with her puppy eyes.

"Urh, fine but I swear if you tell anybody, I'll  fucking kill you got it."

"Yes got it . "

" It's Jeremy." I blurted out.

"Oh my god, no way Elena ' s baby brother." She said giggly.

"Can you shut up?" I asked her.

"Your secret is safe with me." She said.

" What secret?" Elena snd Bonnie questioned

"Uhhhmmm.....it's nothing important...right Caroline."

"Really isn't, it's just an issue that she have."

"What type of issue?"Bonnie raised a brow.

I  began to panic and I turn to look at Caroline who is also panicking with me.

" Y/n has a crush on Stefan."Caroline blurted out quickly.

I gave her a "What the Fuck " look.

"Really, why didn't  you say anything."Elena said.

"What did you wanted her to say, "Oh Elena, I'm have a crush on your ex. I hope you don't mind."Bonnie said.

"Do you guys think I'll get mad if she asked Stefan out?" Elena asked.

No one said a word, as my prayers were answered Jeremy came to my rescue.

"You guys won't mind if I take y/n, right." He grab a hold of my wrist amd yank me out of my seat without an answer he took me out of The Grill.

"Hey, what's going on?" I questioned.

"I just wanted to ask you a question." He says while sitting on a bench not that far from The Grill.

"What is it?" Hoping that he was going to say the words that I always want to hear come out of his mouth.

"What do you think about Bonnie? " He asked.

"What do you mean I think about Bonnie. You have to be more specific on me, as a sister, best friend, or a lover." I said the last part quietly but loud enough for him to hear.

" As my girlfriend."he says.

"I think you guys would be amazing couple. My new OTP." I said with a fake smile.

"Really, you think so."

"I know so, Jer."I said while patting his back.

"Thank you for being my best friend."He says as he wraps his arms around my waist.

A pang of pain and jealously rush through my body, yet again I have to get use to it.

[palmviolet]

Hello! I don’t know if this is strange, but do you have any tips for characterizing Rust? Your writing of him literally feels ripped out of the show in a way I’ve seen very few able to do, and I have trouble balancing his “time is a flat circle, we’re all trapped in Samsara” beliefs with his “normal” (for lack of a better word) pessimism and worldview and always feel like I end up leaning too hard one way or the other. You strike a perfect balance between these (and just generally on his characterization, like, not necessarily just with these issues but on his little quirks and references he’d have as touchstones and small details) in a way that really impresses me. Absolutely no problem if you’ve got nothing (and also you aren’t obliged to divulge your secrets at all!), but either way keep up the great work!!!!

oooh okay great question — thank you so much, i'm so thrilled you enjoy the way i write him <3

i mean let's preface this by saying that i've watched TD s1 maybe... 7 times now? currently on my umpteenth watch in the space of six months. and aside from that i've been marathoning mcconaughey movies so really i've got his voice pretty near to hand if i need it lol and a lot of writing accurate dialogue, i find, is just being able to hear the character saying it in your head.

that being said it's not just dialect inflections; as you say, it's philosophy. i read the conspiracy against the human race by ligotti, which is reportedly the book that rust's whole nihilist philosophy is based on. would absolutely recommend, if you can stomach it — it's basically just immersion in rust's fucked-up head for 300 pages. but the central point to remember here is that rust as a character is as human as anybody else, meaning there doesn't have to be internal consistency w/r/t how his beliefs and actions tesselate with each other. he's made of contradictions and he's deluding himself half the time, alongside everybody else. case in point: that he seems to believe what the doctors told him (that sophia died peacefully without pain) despite his general confidence in the world as a thresher of suffering and the people in it as self-serving, delusional puppets. he clings to what was likely a comforting fiction to support his assertion that to die is better than to live but also to protect himself, because the likely reality (that sophia died in pain and fear) is simply too traumatic for him to handle. and in that he's human — and the constant conflict within his character is between the human instincts towards self-preservation, hope, loneliness, fear, justice, and his belief that those instincts are just the trappings of biology and a fragile constructed system that holds no meaning beyond the circle of an unreal world — a belief that arises from an event so traumatic as to have rewritten those instincts.

so half of it is collecting references to go along with his nihilist philosophy — philosophers, poets, postmodern theorists — and half of it is remembering he's just a guy who has a bottle of hot sauce and a coffee maker and nothing else in his kitchen. in that he has to experience the world just like anybody else does, though he does it a little to the left — i do have fun experimenting with his synaesthesia when writing from his perspective — and he has specific touchstones from his experiences in alaska, in texas, just generally being a cop in the south in the 90s. he'll know a gun make better than he'll know a car; he'll compare a good thing to a drug, not a candy. he'll answer a question honestly but he'll do it with varying levels of sardonicism, depending who's asking. he'll ascribe pain to everyone's existence except his daughter's, though she lived in a cruel world like everyone else, because the only way he can protect her is through the optimism of revisionist memory. just. what a character man

sorry if i've rambled. it's just about getting into his headspace by reading the right things (eg all the AA stuff in infinite jest when i reread it this year very much helped) and remembering it's okay that he doesn't make much sense to you in your narrative, because he's not a character that makes sense — which is what makes him such a good character, because it makes him more real.

thanks for the ask!

[3-2-whump]

Of Painkillers and Promises

<prev next>

Set about eight hours after the hit

TW/CW: whumper turned whumpee (sorta) medical whump (gunshot wound), emotional angst, but that's about it, really. Enjoy.

Thomas woke up to harsh artificial light and monotone beeping. He blinked a few times, letting his eyes adjust, and realized he was in a hospital, lying on a bed, with several machines hooked up to him. His mind felt groggy with the feeling of being drugged. There was an unexplained weight on his lower extremities.  He tried to sit up from the bed to see what it was, hissing as a sharp pain lanced through his chest.

 There at the foot of his bed lay Khaled, his upper body bent over his legs with his head tucked into folded arms. His lower body was seated in chair pulled next to the bed, bending his back into a nearly right angle. Judging by his even breathing and his stillness, the young man had fallen asleep in that uncomfortable position.

“He hasn’t left your side for even a minute,” an unfamiliar voice said. Thomas turned his attention to a matronly nurse who was replacing the drip bag for one of his many IVs. She smiled down at him benevolently. “How are you feeling, dear?”

The mob boss leveled her a flat, unimpressed stare. What was this woman thinking, treating him like he was a child? “I’d rather not be in the hospital, obviously,” he answered, gesturing around the room as far as the IV in his hand would allow, “but other than that, I guess I’m alright.”

“I’ll let Dr. Kimura know you’re awake,” she promised. “In the meantime, can I get you or your partner anything?”

If there was any saliva in Thomas’ mouth, he would’ve choked on it. “I-um, just some water, thanks…”

“Of course, dear.” The nurse exited the recovery room as quietly as she had arrived, but not before pausing on the way out the door. “You’re a lucky man, Mr. Costa,” she commented, “your partner’s quick thinking in the time of a crisis may well have saved your life.”

And just like that, they were alone again. Thomas glanced down at Khaled’s hunched-over form, mind replaying what had happened. I don’t remember much, but… I was shot, I fell, Khaled came, he hesitated. That’s right, he could’ve watched me bleed out and die –and I seriously thought he was going to for a moment there. Which would’ve been fair, I guess. But then… he didn’t…

The nurse’s words replayed his head. Khaled saved my life, he realized. There wasn’t any reason the man could think of for why he didn’t just let him die, especially considering the events that landed them in the hospital last time. Why did he save me? What did I do to deserve that?

Absolutely nothing, he concluded. The opposite, in fact, if he considered the past seven and a half years he’d owned the young man. The cold, slimy feeling of guilt numbed the physical discomfort in his chest, or rather competed with it. I have been awful to this poor little impulse-buy at my feet, yet he eventually decided to save my life. A feeling he so rarely felt it was hard to recognize soon followed this awful revelation.

He reflexively blanched; Thomas didn’t like feeling beholden to anybody, much less someone he felt was lesser than himself. But he couldn’t just let this show of loyalty go unrewarded. The doctor came by to check on him and evaluate his healing progress, startling Khaled awake in the process. Thomas answered Dr. Kimura’s questions succinctly while internally wracking his brain for any and every way he could possibly make it up to Khaled. Every gesture seemed hollow in comparison to the slave literally saving his life.

A life for a life, then? It was the most satisfying solution Tom could come up with, yet he still hesitated. It wasn’t that freeing Khaled would be difficult; it was that living without him would be.

Sue him, he got used to having a young, lively presence around the cold, spacious penthouse. He got used to portioning meals for two, and to coming home to someone to talk to. He got used to Khaled’s warmth, Khaled’s rare smile, Khaled’s songs that he’d hum under his breath when he thought he couldn’t hear him. After seven years of living with Khaled, the prospect of living without him seemed… empty. Lonely.

“Master?” Khaled’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts. The young man he had grown so fond of crouched over the bed, leaning close to him, lips downturned in a frown. “Are you alright?” he asked softly.

I don’t have to free him right away, do I?

“Khaled,” he began, “do you miss being free?”

Khaled’s brow furrowed in puzzlement. “I-uh, I…” He pursed his lips thoughtfully.

Thomas felt something light and warm in his chest as he watched Khaled think his answer through. The boy always made the best thinking face. “It’s not a test, I promise,” he reassured.

The tension in the young man’s face relaxed just a fraction. “Well, yeah, of course I do,” he thoughtfully answered, “but it’s been so long, I don’t know what I would even do if I were free.” He raised and repositioned himself to sit on the side of the hospital bed, twisting his body to the side to maintain eye contact with his master. “I don’t have a real job, I don’t have any money, no papers, no skills –if you were to free me tomorrow, I would be completely helpless. I wouldn’t last a week out in the real world,” he admitted.

All the more reason to delay the inevitable, Thomas justified. “What if I changed that?”

Khaled cocked his head to the side, squinting at the IV bag. “The fuck kind of drugs did they put in these things?” he wondered aloud.

Thomas redirected the boy’s attention. “What I’m trying to say is-” he cleared his throat, then continued. “What if I started paying you for your work at the office? What if I taught you what to do with that money, how to spend it, how to invest it, how to save it? And what if you saved up enough of that money to buy yourself from me?” He leaned in closer, as much as his gunshot wound would comfortably allow. “You were worth $30,000 when you were fifteen, and your current market value places you around $150,000. It won’t be instant, but it would be possible, if you work hard enough.” He reached for Khaled’s hands, holding them in his own as he whispered, “You could be free, Khaled.”

Honestly, of all the responses he could reasonably expect out of Khaled, Thomas did not expect him to disentangle their hands and rise from the bed, back turned. “We can talk about it more when you’re out of the hospital,” the young man replied coldly, trudging determinedly towards the door. “That is, if you even remember,” he murmured bitterly.

“Wait, where are you-”

“I need a minute!” Without any further explanation, Khaled left. Thomas wasn’t left alone for long, though, as the same nurse who initially checked on him returned with a sympathetic half-smile and wise-sounding words about dating someone young enough to be his son. Thomas didn’t have the heart to correct her mistake.

Le Tag List: @kabie-whump @rainydaywhump @whumped-by-glitter @skittles-the-whumpee @generic-whumperz @bamber344 @there-will-always-be-blood @morning-star-whump @a-la-whump @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees

[idekdani]

What you know bout love?

Earth 42 Miles x Black gn reader

Warnings: Story is black-coded. You can read to fit your being. Use of N-word, Slight cursing, use of the nicknames: mi amor, mi vida, pa

Word count: 509

Dark purple-Miles/Pink-Reader

Author’s Note: Thank you for reading. It’s my first post and I’m looking forward to making more<3

You could feel him analyzing almost every inch of your body. His eyes taking in the sight of your melanated skin glistening in the moonlight that peeked through his curtains. Counting every breath you took and how many times your heart beat within a minute. “You been starin for a minute. What’s wrong pa?” Picking your head up off his chest coming face to face with him. Tapping your back signaling you to move up he continues staring for a few moments. “Nothings wrong mi amor, everything’s…perfect. Just thinking.” “You thinkin bout another girl while you wit me Morales” You let out a gasp feigning surprise. Failing to fight off the grin forming at his deadpan expression you burst into a fit of laughter. “You not funny [Name], don’t play wimme”. “Whatever nigga. Shit was funny asf” you grip your side as your laughter becomes painful .He sits up, taking in your appearance before he placed his hands on your hips, a look of adoration gracing his face. “You know what’s crazy?” A simple question. Yet at the same time one with so many answers, especially when it comes to anything in this world. “Hmmmmm, is it me?” He lets out a chuckle at your response looking deep into your eyes as if you were glass and he could see right through you. Every ounce of love and admiration you held for him laid out right there. “Well yeah of course, but I’m talking about the fact that My whole life has changed since you came in.” His sudden confession taking you by surprise and leaving you struggling for a response. Rather than waiting for you to respond Miles continues squeezing your hand to ensure sure you were still with him. “That day when you came over to my house after you heard my dad died. I heard you begging my mom to let you in even after I had been ignoring your calls and stopped leaving the house. I had told her to tell you I wasn’t there but you insisted on waiting for me until I got back. Even after I told you I don’t wanna talk to anybody you held my hand and said- that’s fine, we don’t have to talk but I’m not leaving you alone. Remembering the exact day he was talking about you took it upon yourself to finish his sentence. Gently returning his earlier gesture you looked at him but this time you saw something different. You saw a once broken soul finally healing. Resting your hand on his cheek you allowed him to continue “That’s when I realized it. I knew back then, you were that special one. And ever since then I’ve been absolutely obsessed with you amor.” He takes a deep breath leaning his head against yours, noses almost touching. “Anytime anyone asks me how I feel about you the response is always gonna be the same mi vida” finishing off his sentence he kisses your lips and hugs you tightly.

“I’m so in love, so deep in love”

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

Could I please get a Hc for Asra about an Mc that acts a lot differently after being brought back? Like maybe they were always slightly on edge all the time or were a lot harder on themselves for even little mistakes they'd make. Being more like Muriel, in the sense they never wanted to talk about their past. So when they forgot their past they were able to let go of that feeling of deep-rooted regret completely. Becoming generally a lot more relaxed and almost happier. Maybe they get their memory back of what they did but because of everything between losing their memory and getting back their able to move on. Fully forgive themselves.

The Arcana HCs: When MC's memory loss changes them

~ this was such an interesting prompt to work with, anon, thank you for sending it! - brainrot ~

Julian

He's a little conflicted, to be honest

He remembers what kind of person you used to be, back when you apprenticed at his clinic during the outbreak of the plague, and he's genuinely happy that you get to have a personal fresh start

But he also knows, from his own experience, how important it is to find closure with your past self even when that's something you can't remember properly

He also hates saying anything remotely negative (unless it's about himself - you two are working on that) so he's not going to bring it up unless you do first

If you do bring it up, he'll happily talk about it with you for as many hours as you have the energy for. He's not afraid of emotionally intense conversations, and he has personal experience to draw on

He will always, always make it clear that he accepts you no matter what and that he's with you for whatever conclusions you come to

If the time comes that your memories return and you start to process them, he is two steps ahead of you on his own journey and so ready to be your shoulder to lean on

Besides, watching you show emotional growth and self-forgiveness is super hot

Asra

Regardless of their opinions on your change, bringing up your past with you is so triggering for them that their default is to avoid it

That's not to say that he refuses to talk about how things used to be, he knows you can handle it now, but after three years of watching you fall into pain and losing you each time he's cautious

They will answer all of your questions honestly though. They don't care to keep secrets from you

And when it comes down to it, he's only as invested in your change as you are. It makes him happy to see you happy!

If that means holding onto the memories of who you used to be on your behalf, they'll do it willingly. They are far more concerned with helping you be master of your own destiny than anything else

He does panic briefly when your memories start to return

There's a weird back and forth for them between relief at seeing you become more whole and anxiety around all the ways that that could hurt you or go wrong

But he will be there for you every step of the way with cuddles and laughs and unconditional love

Nadia

She does her best to hide it, but between who she's heard of you being and who you are now she likes the new you better

Her biggest struggle in the last few years was overcoming her own uncharacteristic insecurity, and it was your confidence that helped her do that. Thinking of you another way doesn't sit so easily with her

That's not to say that she thinks any less of someone who is insecure, or that she thinks past you was somehow inferior

She just likes to leave the past in the past when a fresh start is available

That said, she's also invested in learning as much about you as you're willing to share, so if you ever want to talk about old stories she will give you her full attention and interest

If the times comes that your memories do begin to return, she'll be as gentle and empowering with you as she can

She wants you to become who you want to become, not whoever you think anybody else wants you to be. She will fiercely protect and affirm your own preferences and decisions

She is so proud of who you are and how you're growing and she's so excited to see who you become

Muriel

Honestly, if he could have the same thing happen to him, he wouldn't complain. He doesn't think so as strongly now as he did when he first saw your changed state, but it's still enticing

He likes seeing how free you've become

More than that, he likes sharing this new life with you. His past has always weighed so heavily on him that having someone like you around is a chance to think about the future instead

He's happy to listen if you want to talk about it, but he's not going to bring it up if you don't

Once you do start remembering your past again, it ends up being a lot easier for both of you than he expected

Contrary to trapping you, your memories seem to only make you more whole. Processing them isn't easy for you, but you're doing it and you're growing from and incorporating it and you're moving on

Watching you do this is reassuring him that he's on the right path as well, that it's possible to live with his memories in a way that doesn't ignore them or trap him in them or weigh him down

You two are going to do so much healing and growing together

Portia

She has a harder time accepting how things are for you

Mostly because she doesn't have the full picture. She didn't know you before the plague, so your past is just as hazy and mysterious to her as it is to you

Except that she has no idea what it's like to be missing memories. She carries her memories everywhere she goes, and the thought of you not being able to know all of who you are is really sad for her

She brings it up quite often, whether she's asking you for your theories or pumping Asra for stories about a younger you, and hearing about who you used to be makes her want to meet them

Eventually she'll come to terms with letting you allow yourself to let go of your past, even if it gives her a strange sense of defeat

She gets really excited for you when your memories begin to return and you start to talk about it

She does have these moments, when you remember something sad or painful, when she realizes that forgetting may have been a kinder thing for you

Ultimately, whoever you want to become and however you want to heal, she will support you with all her heart

Lucio

Frankly, there isn't a lot of time or space in your relationship to think much about your past

He didn't know you before the plague, and who he was before the plague is not something he's particularly interested in revisiting, and you're both quite busy building a new life from a clean slate

Who you are now is all he's known, and he likes you very much

When your memories do come back and you start to process them, it might trigger him a little bit

You're his anchor, his source of comfort and strength to confront his own past mistakes and push towards being a better person

So when the old habits you're remembering are all of you being hard on yourself for understandable, minor slip-ups, he's suddenly wondering if you're this hard on him in your own mind too

How does he know that you've really forgiven him when you struggle to forgive yourself?

Hearing his point of view helps you give yourself grace in your own process, and for him, watching you grow is truly inspiring

He wants to be better like you, and here you are living out a whole tutorial!

[felassan]

Some more snippets of interest and insight from Mark Darrah, from an older Mark Darrah on Games YouTube video where he was livestreaming playing Dragon Age: Origins some months ago -

"I imagine that the only way that broodmothers would remain in the game [DA:O] would be in a remaster. In a remake I'm sure they would make changes, I would be very surprised if they didn't. But in a remaster you can get away with a lot more. I think they would change their appearance. Also, there's been an effort to unify the look of the darkspawn a lot more, so." "You're never gonna see broodmothers, probably in any form, in the mainline games, definitely not in the form that they're in in DA:O. I don't think you'll ever see a broodmother again. I guarantee that you're not seeing broodmothers in any future Dragon Age thing. I would be very confident in that statement."

Chat commented "Male Desire demons on the other hand" and Mark replied that there is a concept art out there for male Desire demons.

Chat asked "If we won't get Broodmothers, do you think we'll get the original Archdemon design? The Tentacle Monster one?". Mark replied "Probably not the tentacle version for an Archdemon. I could see that being created as another monster or high level boss, but probably not as Archdemon because the, sort've, dragon as being part of an Archdemon is too intertwined in the lore at this point."

Chat commented "I just hope the Mythal death in DA:I was a fakeout". Mark said, "One thing with Mythal is that, Kate Mulgrew, as her stock has risen and fallen, her price has gone all over the place, so 'is Mythal gonna show up?' decisions will be partially based upon if she's priced herself out of the market or not. Though I think she actually was sad, based on the DA:I stuff, so maybe she'd be willing to do it on a little bit of a lower price. But I actually don't know, because is Orange Is the New Black still on the air? Her price may have come down again." "I mean definitely you can see, sometimes characters disappearing is because the voice actor became a pain to work with, or became expensive, those are definitely factors, no question."

Later on this topic chat asked "Would you say Laura Bailey is still in the affordable VA space? I know she's become a mega popular/busy thanks to CR, but she's always been VA first afaik." Mark replied "Depends, you can always sort've write less for them, if you can do it in one session you can kind've afford anybody, it's a question of how much they're gonna show up."

Chat asked "Do you agree with the criticism some people have that DA lore focuses too much on elves?" Mark said "Yeah, kind've, I think it sort've, it's not on purposes, the elves, they just kind've end up sneaking into everything it seems like. I think there's a recognition of the elves kind've being too present." "I don't think elves are going to disappear, I just think that they don't necessarily need to, one of the things that sort've constantly happened is that the stories ended up presenting the elves as, they keep sort've having them make just the worst decisions. So I suspect there's a goal to maybe make them not do that and then that would allow them to sort've rebalance with everyone else. It's also harder to get, dwarves kind've require a, they're either harder to integrate in, because they're off [over there], they're not just in a forest, you gotta go into a hole to talk to them, so they kind've always are gonna be less present unless you're doing something in the Deep Roads or Orzammar."

"It's always hard to kill off the protagonist. Always gonna get people who are against that but y'know [shrug]. I can certainly see the argument for killing off the Inquisitor in Trespasser".

Chat asked "Would it be more likely that we would be able to get answers to the more deep-fan stuff like The Calling etc by assuming those would be in DLC and not the main game of DA:D?" Mark replied "I don't imagine that there's gonna be a ton of, it's possible that you're gonna see that sort've stuff in DLC but I don't know what the live service plan is gonna be for DA:D to be honest because that was definitely, has been in flux over the course of DA:D, that's for sure."

[source]

He also talked more generally about DA:O and the franchise and things in general. These bits are collected under a cut due to length -

[when party camp is ambushed by darkspawn] "That's one of the few times that we actually pay that off"

[during Leliana's party camp song] "Very impressive cinematic design. It shows off the age of the models in the close ups, but the long shots are really great." "They're desperately trying to get the lipsyncing to match and failing"

Chat asked "Any insight as to why class design was made so much stricter in DAII and DA:I? DA:O had dual wield warriors, rogues with swords, etc." Mark replied "In DAII and DA:I I think we were trying to make the roles more clear. DA:O is basically DnD with no clerics and the serial numbers filed off"

In later DA games they suppressed visual effects (like glowing auras from active skills) during conversations. "Probably for the best because I'm also having... weird glowing stuff coming off of me"

[when Dagna in Orzammar talks about a bunch of nerdy magic lore] Chat asked "When you made this part about dwarfs and lyrium, had you then made enough lore to know how it all worked? aka how the Descent in DA:I would play out? Not story, but lorewise." Mark replied "The lore, like the magic sources in DA:O are kind've a mess so there is, there's been an effort since DA:O to kind've draw them back together. There was an understanding of why dwarves didn't have magic in DA:O, so kind've." Chat followed up "'​Like theres four sources [of magic]: Fade, Blood, Lyrium, Blight?" and Mark said "Yeah, that's sort've the problem. You've got lyrium, you've got the Fade, you've got the Blight, you've got blood magic, you've also got some other, sort've genericized stuff where it's not explained. So from my perspective you kind've wanna collapse that down. You either want magic to just generally be from everything, which a lot of settings do, or you want it to have a somewhat unified source or sources, so you can see that there's like, things have been slowly drawn into a more common metaphysical explanation over the last two games."

Chat asked "​I'm not sure when you came on to the DA:O project, but do you know which of the origins was the last to be added? Were any kind of 'last minute afterthoughts'?" Mark said "The actual truth is we cut an origin. There was an origin for the Avvar as well that got cut, so there was supposed to be two elves, two dwarves, two humans and then mage, but we cut the Avvar for time." "I actually really like the idea of us having implemented at least one faction where you come up with the Treaties and they're like 'good to go, just let us get our stuff'. That could've been the Avvar, as well"

"I think that lyrium will eventually drive a dwarf mad. I think that's established canon." "I would say that just because lyrium drives you mad doesn't mean that dwarves would stop using it. It only slightly drives you mad. Certainly there are lots of examples in [irl] history of people continuing to use things that are very bad for them because they're convenient or cheap."

"I've always wondered about dwarves, I mean you're burning big fires in the middle of a cave, and everyone's living together, it does seem like you're gonna run out of breathable air pretty quickly"

Chat asked "Were you involved much in the class design aspect of the game?" and Mark said "With DA:O? Not too much. When I took over, the game was largely design-locked. There was content still being created but most of the game design was done well before I took over"

Mass Effect 1's combat was aspiring to be something it was failing to reach

Chat mentioned that Citadel was a fan service/love letter DLC. Mark said "Citadel in ME is definitely, you're absolutely right, it's definitely a 'please stop being mad at us' piece of DLC." "I don't even know if it hit its profitability goals"

"The asari in ME didn't succeed at being a parody of the 'green space babes' trope. ME races are like Star Trek races, they're all defined by a relatively small number of characteristics. If they're attempting to be parodies of those kinds of races in something like Star Trek they are not succeeding at doing that. It's hard to imagine that you're succeeding at making a commentary about it when you're basically just doing the same thing. If you're using the codexes to talk about how well executed they are then it's not coming through in the main game, if that's what's required."

[source]

(pls note that in places there is a bit of paraphrasing of the info, the best source is always the primary source with full quotes in their original context)

[harringtonstilinski]

Always The Babysitter - Chapter Twenty-Three: E Pluribrus Unum (Bonus Scene)

Author: @harringtonstilinski​ Characters: Steve Harrington x Olivia Henderson(OC) Word Count: 3,169 Warnings: angst, mentions of blood, steve getting his ass kicked, steve and robin being drugged, italics is steve hearing liv's commentary, tiniest bit of foreshadowing 👀 ?, non-canon hallucinations (not mentioned in story after this), Smut: no | yes; A/N: Hi, friends! Y'all voted for a bonus scene, and I'm here to deliver! Main focus is Steve and Robin's scenes. If you like this bonus scene, please do not hesitate to reblog and give some feedback, whether it be in the reblogs, comments, or my inbox. As always, read at your own risk and enjoy 😊

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Steve’s Pov

As soon as Liv, Dustin and Erica were out of sight, Robin and I were flung through the air to the wall next to us at the door being shoved open. Once we got our bearings, we raised our hands, Russian guards standing in front of us with their guns drawn. Ahh, crap.

They hauled us to our feet, essentially dragging us to separate rooms. My only thought as they kept asking me questions and punching me when I gave them my answers was that I was super glad Liv wasn’t here to hear or witness this. She’d be losing her shit.

As they punched me in the face, yet again, I groaned in pain, again thankful that Liv wasn’t here to try and kick the shit out of these Russian assholes. After we confessed our love to each other, my need to protect her increased tenfold. I’m sure her need increased, as well.

Feeling blood dripping from my mouth, I groaned, “That one stung,” before gasping for air.

What I’m guessing is the main head honcho for these buttwipes asked, “Who do you work for?”

“For the millionth time, I work at Scoops Ahoy!” Bringing my head up, I breathed out, “Scoops Ahoy,” doing my best to gear up for the next hit to the face… that didn’t happen. That hit went to my stomach, a pained groan coming from my throat before I yelled out, “What the hell?! ”

Bending over, I said, “Look at my outfit! Look at my outfit! My girlfriend might think it’s hot, but look at it! You think I just wear this?! Think I’m a spy in a sailor’s uniform?” Another punch to the stomach.

I can hear Olivia now saying, “You assholes! I’m gonna kill you!” or “I’ll take his place!” while struggling against another guard.

With a stone face, the head honcho asked with an uninterested tone, “How did you get in?”

Gasping for breath, I was bent over as I grunted, “I already told you,” before sitting up to say, “I told you before.” I gasped for air again, hearing Liv’s voice in my head saying, “Lie again,” before repeating my words from earlier. “My delivery didn’t come, and my friends and I, we thought that it was left at the loading dock, so we went into the room, and it tuuurrrrned into an elevator, and then…”

“You have to be a better liar, Steven,” her voice said.

“And then we dropped and then next thing we know, I open my eyes and we’re in this… wonderful facility.”

“Oh my god. Shut up, Steve.”

“But I swear to God, nobody knows about us, nobody saw us. You could just let us go, alright? And I’m not gonna tell anybody about this, okay? Shit happens, life goes on. And uhh… ice-ice cream. Ice cream, okay? You guys know what ice cream is.”

“They’re Russians, not aliens from space, Steven!”

“Everybody loves ice cream. I don’t know if you have Russian ice cream or if that’s considered gelato-”

“That’s Italians, Steve!”

“I don’t know what’s what, but whatever you guys want, seriously. USS Butterscotch, I mean, you gotta try it. It’s out of this world, I’m telling ya!”

Head honcho and the guy that was repeatedly hitting me just started… laughing? So, I joined in, as well. More nervously, of course.

“I like this guy!” Head honcho said. “USS… Butterscotch.” He laughed again, it turning into a chuckle as he bent down a little, resting his hands on his knees.

All I could do was look at him nervously, scared for what was to come next as the room fell quiet.

“Who do you work for?” he enunciated.

Well, shit. “Oh, come on,” I all but whined, eyeing the other guard. “No, no!  No, seriously!”

Black was the very next thing that I saw as that douchebag hit me in the face… yet again.

~~~

I don’t remember much else after literally being knocked out, but what I do remember next was waking up to Robin’s voice calling out for help. 

“Hey,” I said, groggily. “Would you stop yelling?”

I could feel her relief from just hearing my voice as she said, “Steve! Oh, my god!” before panting out my name. She was leaning back as I was leaning forward as she asked, “Are-are you okay?”

“My ears are ringing, I can barely breathe, my eye feels like it’s about to pop out of my skull, and Liv’s voice is running through my head, but ya’know, apart from that, I’m doing pretty good.”

“Well, the good news is that they’re calling you a doctor,” Robin said.

“Jesus, you two are idiots.”

I looked around the room, which looked liked a… ya’know, a doctors room. “Is this his place of work? I love the vibe.” Robin chuckled as I added, “Charming.”

“Yeah, tell me about it. So, okay,” she said. “Do you see that table over there to your right?”

I turned my head to the left. Don’t ask why. 

“Babe. Your other left.”

“No, your other right,” Robin said.

Turning my head to my correct right, she added, “Yeah, okay. Do you see those scissors?”

“Uh-huh,” I confirmed.

“Yeah, well, I think that if we move at the same time, we could get over there, and then maybe I could kick the table and knock them into your lap.”

Picking up what she was putting down, I said, “And I could cut the binds.”

“Yeah, and we could get out of here.”

“Gotcha. Okay, yeah, we can do that.”

“Yeah.”

“Those morons. They left scissors in here?” I asked, turning my head side to side.

“Yeah, morons,” Robin added.

“Total morons,” I added to my own statement, adding with determination, “Okay.”

“Okay, so, on the count of three, we’re gonna hop.”

“O-okay, good, hop on three. I gotcha.”

“Alright. One.. two.. three.”

We both hopped towards the table, a little happy that this plan was actually working. Robin and I counted to three again, our excitement building at the fact that we were almost to the table… and I was almost to the point where I could hug and kiss my girl again.

Counting to three again, we hopped for a third time… only for our fucking luck to bite us in the ass because we ended up falling, our heads towards the table, our feet towards the door.

Robin and I both groaned at our heads and arms hitting the ground before I heard her crying.

“A bunch of fucking geniuses.”

“It’s okay, it’s okay. Don’t cry. Robin.” Instead of hearing her cry, I heard her… laughing? “Are you laughing?”

She laughed harder before saying, “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry. It’s just… I can’t believe I’m gonna die in a secret Russian base with Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington. It’s just too trippy, man.”

“We’re not gonna die,” I reassured. “We’re gonna get out of here, okay? Liv wouldn’t let us die anyway. She’d kill every single Russian down here before they could kill us. Just– you gotta let me just think for a second.”

It was quiet for a moment, my thoughts running through my brain before Robin asked, “Do you remember, uhm, Mrs. Click’s sophomore History class?”

I lifted my head, shaking it a little before asking with an annoyingly curious tone, “What?”

“Mrs. Clickity-Clackity,” she said. “That’s what us band dweebs called her.”

Sighing, I pressed my forehead into the floor, remembering when I was an asshole to everyone, the guilt eating at me in this moment.

“It was first period, Tuesdays and Thursdays, so you were always late.”

Even though we weren’t as close during that time, Liv had ended up scolding me more than a few times for always being late. “Goodness, Harrington. Don’t you own a fucking watch?”

“And you always had the same breakfast. Bacon, egg and cheese on a sesame bagel.”

“I know we’re not close anymore, but you could still bring me a freaking sausage McMuffin!” Since Liv scolded me the last time, every Tuesday and Thursday she’d find a Sausage McMuffin in her locker. 

“I sat behind you, two days a week for a year,” Robin said. “Mister Funny. Mister Cool. The King of Hawkins High himself. Liv being your Queen.”

“Ugh! Don’t bring that up!”

“Do you even remember me from that class?”

“No.”

I didn’t know what to say because… well, I didn’t remember her. I didn’t care about anyone else or anything during high school. Other than the girls I’d bang, being in basketball and on the swim team, or being with Nancy… or being friends with Liv again.

Robin’s chuckle brought me out of my thoughts before she said, “Of course you don’t. You were a real asshole, ya’know that?”

Feeling incredibly bad, I said sadly, “Yeah, I know.”

“The biggest asshole, babe.”

“But it didn’t even matter,” Robin continued. “It didn’t even matter that you were an ass. I was still… obsessed with you.”

I could hear Liv’s scoff as she said, “Everyone was.”

“Even though all of us losers pretend to be above it all, we still just wanna be popular… accepted, normal.”

“If it makes you feel any better, having those things isn’t all that great,” I said, sniffling. “Seriously. Liv can tell you that… even though she… didn’t grow up the same as me.” Taking a deep breath, I sighed it back out as I said, “It just baffles me. Everything that people tell you is important, everything that people say you should care about, it’s all just…” I lightly chuckled before adding, “...bullshit. But I guess you gotta mess up to figure things out, right?”

“I hope so. I feel like my whole life has been… one big error.”

We both chuckled, a smile crossing my face for the first time since yesterday. 

“Yep,” I agreed, a small smile on my face. 

“At least it can’t get any more messed up than this,” Robin said.

“Ya’know, I wish I’d known you in Click’s class,” I said. 

“Yeah?”

“Really. I do.”

“Olivia humbled you,” Robin whispered.

“Yeah. She did.” I smiled a little, thinking of my girlfriend and how grateful I am of her. How happy I am that she gave me a thump on my head when I needed it most. “Maybe you both could’ve helped me pass the class. Maybe instead of being here, Liv and I’d be on our way to college right now.”

“And I would have no idea that there were evil Russians beneath our feet, and I would happily be slinging ice cream with some other schmuck.”

We chuckled, I guess because we’ve accepted our fate.

“Gotta say, though,” I said. “I liked being your schmuck.”

“Uhm, hello?!”

I chuckled lightly at hearing Liv’s commentary in my head. “So did Liv. It was fun while it lasted.”

“It was.”

Our come to Jesus meeting was over at the sound of the buzzer and door opening. We looked up, seeing the Head Honcho walk in with three other people… and then he chuckled.

“Where were you two going?” he asked, brows raised and arms out to his side for a moment.

“Ugh! Just go somewhere, asswipe. You’re kind of annoying.”

He clicked his tongue before the two guards lifted us up, setting the chairs back on their feet. I could see it now; Head Honcho holding Liv back, struggling to get out of his arms. “Don’t you fucking touch them, Russian bastard!”

Head Honcho bent in front of me again as I felt Robin’s head leaning on my neck as he asked, “Try telling the truth this time, yes?”

“He is, you ignorant freak!”

“It will make your visit with Dr. Zharkov less painful,” he continued, stroking the side of my face.

Again, I could see Olivia struggling in my mind, yelling at the doctor. “Don’t fucking touch him, you sick bastard! I’ll fucking kill you!”

Touching a sore on my chin, I winced, once again, seeing Liv in my mind struggling against the guard, her hair all around her face as she cried in sadness and anger. Head Honcho chuckled again before nodding once to the doctor.

I turned my head to watch him walk around me, a big ass needle in his hand, with blue liquid inside of a small vile. Fear started showing through as I looked at it, saying, “Wait a sec, wait. Hold on. Okay! Wait, wait, wait! What is that thing?”

The ‘doctor’ was standing next to me with the needle gun thing as he said, “It will help you talk.” He grabbed my hair and tilted my head to the side.

“Did you even clean that thing?!” I yelled, before screaming at the needle being punctured into my neck, the liquid seeping into my veins.

~~~

After they had done the same thing to Robin, Head Honcho and his pack of bastards left the room, leaving Robin and I by ourselves for a moment. What was weird was that I couldn’t still see Liv, but not hear her in my mind anymore, my brain feeling more fuzzy than ever, almost like I’d smoked a joint.

Robin moved her head against mine a few times, as I just stared at a spot on the wall, seeing Liv every now and again as she paced in front of me. “I’m gonna kill them. I’m gonna fucking kill them.”

“Honestly, I don’t really feel anything,” I said. “Do you?”

“Really, Steven?”

“I mean, I… I feel fine,” Robin replied. “I feel normal.”

“Yeah, I feel-I feel fine,” I agreed, before slurring, “I kinda feel good,” before we both chuckled.

I wish I could say I actually  felt Liv’s hands on my cheeks, but in my mind… I did. “Steve. You’re high as a fucking kite. Keep your mouth closed. Don’t say anything.”

“Wanna know a secret?” Robin asked.

“What?” I asked.

“I like it, too! And I’ve been seeing and hearing Liv!”

“Me, too!” I said, laughing.

“I feel good.”

“Morons! They messed up the drug.”

“Oh… my god.”

“They messed it up!”

As Robin leaned her head back, I tilted mine forward. “Morons,” she said.

Robin and I looked at the door as I loudly said, “Morons!”

“Hey, morons!”

“Moron! Mor–” she said at the same time I said, “Hey!”

“Whoa-oh!” I was still smiling and laughing, closing my eyes for a moment. 

“Oh, no. There’s definitely something wrong with us.”

Amused, I said, “Somethin’s wrong.”

“Ya’think! Fucking idiots.”

That damn door buzzer sounded again, but I kind of didn’t care because of how good I felt as the Head Honcho and the Doc walked into the room. What did grab my attention was watching Head Honcho walking around Robin and I on her side just for him to stop and stand in front of me.

I turned my head after looking at him for a moment, watching the Doc mess with his bag at the table. Whatever he sets down makes Robin chuckle a little as he grabs a freaking medical bone saw from his bag.

“Would now be a good time to tell you that I don’t like doctors?” Robin asked.

The image of Olivia hastily walking around to Robin flashed in my mind, her hushed voice saying, “Robin, if you don’t shut the fuck up, I’ll send you to the Upside Down for a full-ass week!”

“Let’s try this again, yes?” Head Honcho said.

I licked the inside of my tongue, feeling to see if it was still there as I nodded and murmured out something while nodding my head. 

Without missing a beat, he asked, “Who do you work for?”

“Scoops,” I said, looking at a random spot as Robin chuckled, my own joining. “Scoops Ahoy.”

Robin’s giggles were quiet as he asked, “How did you find us?”

I looked up at him, saying without missing a beat, “Totally by accident,” before lightly laughing… again.

He said something in Russian as I looked down for a moment, picking my head back up at the sound of something being open and closed, the Doc making his way back to us. “What is that shiny little toy?”

“Where are you going with that, Doc?” Robin asked.

Even in my high as a kite state, fear jumped through my body as he brought the clipper looking things to my fingers, grabbing onto my fingernail. “Whoa, whoa, hey, hey. Wait! No! Wait! Wait!”

“There was a code! There was a code! We heard a code!” Robin shouted as I jumped and tried to get away from the Doc.

“Code,” Honcho said, walking around to Robin. “What code?”

“The week is long. The silver cat feeds when blue meets yellow in the west. Blah, blah, blah. You broadcast that stupid spy shit all over town, and we picked it up on our Cerebro, and we cracked it in a day. A day! You think you’re so smart, but a couple of kids who scoop ice cream for a living cracked your code in a day, and now, people know you’re here.”

“Who knows we’re here, suchka?”

“Uh, well Dustin and Olivia know,” I said, looking off into space.

“Shut. The fuck. Up.”

“Hey, Steve?” Robin said.

“Yeah, Dustin and Olivia, the Henderson’s, they know.”

“Steve!”

“Dustin and Olivia Henderson,” Honcho said, walking around to stand in front of me. “Is this your small, curly-haired friend? As well as your short, curly-haired girlfriend?”

“Oh, curly-haired. Great hair. Small. Kinda like a ‘fro, yeah,” I said. “Where are they?”

“Oh, they’re long gone, you big asshole.” Little did I know. “And they’re probably calling Hopper, and Hopper’s calling the US Calvary. They’re gonna come in here, commando-style, guns a-blazin’, and kick your sorry asses back to Russia. You’re gonna be two pieces of toast.” With the drugs in my system, I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Is that so?”

“Yeah,” I said, matter-of-factly, before Robin and I laughed, Honcho joining in.

It all stopped at the sound of an alarm going off, all of our heads turning to the door. At the sound of Russian’s yelling, I turned back to Honcho and shrugged my shoulders, as if I were telling him told ya so.

Honcho left the room, telling the Doc to stay put… I guess. I don’t know. I don’t speak Russian. A couple of minutes went by before the door slammed opened, Dustin charging through with a zapping device, putting it against the Doc’s chest.

Olivia and Erica walked in after him, my eyes following all of them before landing on Liv’s, seeing her stand between Dustin and Erica, her eyes on the doc that fell to the ground. She turned to face me, seeing my eye bruised and swollen.

“Hey! Henderson!” I said, excitedly. “That’s… crazy, I was just talking about you.”

Sighing, Liv undid the bonds that were around my arms, hands and legs before putting her hand on my cheek. “What happened to you?”

“Oh, my god,” Robin said.

“Get ready to run!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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~~~

A/N 2:  hi, friends! pls be kind and reblog! it really helps us content creators out <3

Additional Note: not doing normal tags at the bottom since this is just a bonus scene.

~~~

Forever / Everything Taglist: @stiles-o-dylan24​​ @stixnstripesworld​ @fandom-princess-forevermore​​​ @quanticobae​​​ @mischiefandi​​​ @kellyashcroft @lauren-novak​​​​

Steve Harrington Taglist: @madaboutjoe

If you’re tagged and didn’t want to be, please let me know.

~~~

*Please don’t post my writing anywhere else without my consent. The author of this work will always and forever be @harringtonstilinski​.

All characters, story lines, and plot aside from y/n and her storyline & plot, are all of the work of The Duffer Brothers.

*These works contain material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited.

No part of these works may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher.

Posted on April 4, 2024

[basil-does-arttt]

DMC Questions Anon here!

It turns out that today, July 30th, is friendship day! What are some of your favorite friendships in DMC? What friendships do you want to see? What headcanons do you have about them? Just anything about DMC friendships.

Hello!!

My favorite friendship between anybody in DMC is probably Lady and Dante. Their relationship is very nuanced, theres a lot of complexities and they've been through so much shit together, yet they stuck with eachother through everything no matter what. I can see why some people would assume Lady doesn't like Dante due to how she treats him in the anime, but at the same time its a little unfortunate to me that some can't see past that and realize that constantly nagging him and such is just her way to be around him, and thus, to care about him. She wouldn't constantly be annoying him about money if she didn't care. (and she's never really forced him to pay up either for that matter.) While the ways she shows her affection may not be conventional, it works between her and Dante, and thats what matters.

I really like the HC of them having drinking nights together as well, just as a chance to feel things and let out all their (shared) trauma. They both have a habit of hiding their pain behind a mask, it'd be nice for them to just let loose every once in a while.

Personally i dont ever see Dante and Lady being anything more than friends. The ship is cute, but just not my personal tastes.

I also really like the friendship Lady seems to have with Nico. Even though we dont see them interact more than like twice in dmc 5, its apparent they've known eachother for a while (Lady used to go to Nico for her gun repairs and such iirc), and they seem to enable eachother's mischevious side lol (evidenced by Lady almost crashing the fucking van into Nero, when we've only ever seen Nico drive up untill that point lol).

I would like to see a friendship between Kyrie and Dante, either in a game or a manga or whathaveyou. I feel like they'd get along well, especially considering their shared experiences with losing an older brother. And we all know Kyrie is more of a prankster than she lets on (its canon she told me herself), so her pranking Nero with Dante's help is something i can totally see happening.

Id also like to see the relationship between Vergil and Trish developed more. Theres a lot of baggage there after all... it'd be interesting to see how it works between them, would Vergil get along with her or no? I think yes, but not easily.

Lastly, id really love to see Lucia getting along with Trish, they're both demons in similar ways (Trish being created by Mundus, Lucia by Arius) and maybe Trish could help her adjust better to being around humans, especially with her fears of turning on said humans against her will.

Thank you for the ask!! I hope that answers things :> <3

[jake-whatthefisgoingon-kiszka]

This one’s a doozy, what more do I need to say

Pairings: Sam Kiszka X Danny Wagner *slassh 🤫

Warnings: 18+ only please! Angst, Danny being not a good friend, Sam being a little delusional, kissing

Word count: 1.4k

❦❧

Danny speed walked through the house and out the front door without saying goodbye to anybody. He needed to get out of there, be alone in his room for the rest of the night and think about what had happened.

He and Sam kissed. Wasn’t a big deal. Friends kiss all the time, or so Sam had said.

Once holed away in his room, Danny collapsed on his bed, staring up at the ceiling fan in utter disbelief. As his eyes lost track of the circling blades, his mind wandered back to the Kiszka house. Being stuck in that closet with Sam, the way he looked so flushed when he suggested they kiss. The way his lips felt, slightly chapped but still velvety. Had he put on chapstick before Danny joined him?

He thought back to how he’d tasted, like spicy tequila and something sweet. Maybe strawberry?

Even just the memory made his senses tingle. He and Sam had kissed, and he liked it. What in the hell was he supposed to do now?

Three days, seven missed calls, and nearly two dozen ignored texts and Sam had just about had it. He and Danny hadn’t gone this long without talking to each other since Danny went to science camp without him the summer after freshman year.

Why was Danny ignoring him? Well, that was a stupid question. He knew why. Because Jake and Josh had thought it would be funny to shove them in a closet together. This was entirely their fault and Sam had been giving them hell for it ever since Danny had run away.

The longer Danny stayed hidden in that house across the street, the more angry and pissed off Sam grew with his brother’s until finally this afternoon Josh kicked him in the back of his leg making Sam crumple to the ground and grabbed onto his shoulders to look him in the eye. “I don’t know what the fuck has gotten into you lately, but Jake and I are officially over it. Go over there, bang on his door, knock it down if you have to, but you need to go talk to him”.

Of course the twins had noticed the lack of Danny around the house since the party and had deduced that Sam’s torment was somehow linked to that. So they played rock paper scissors to decide who was going to settle this with him. Josh always lost at rock, paper, scissors, so here he was reluctantly but dutifully hounding his brother about fixing whatever mess he was in.

Sam on the other hand didn’t feel like he needed to be the one apologizing. He’d done nothing wrong really. He didn’t force Danny to kiss him. Maybe he’d persuaded him a little bit, but at the end he could have sworn he felt Danny kissing him back. If anything, he was taking Josh’s advice and going over there just so he could demand an explanation.

His sleep schedule was absolutely fucked, the summer tended to do that, but the long nights he stayed restlessly awake paired with his Dad getting him up early nearly every morning meant Danny spent most of his evening napping. When the knock at his door woke him, he groggily stammered over clad in nothing but his thin cotton boxers to ward off the heat, and opened it anticipating one of his family members to be on the other side waking him for dinner. His heart dropped into his stomach when his eyes focused and he saw that instead it was Sam.

“Hey” Sam spoke up, scratching at his bicep awkwardly when Danny just stood there gawking at him. “Can we talk?”

Danny’s initial response was to slam the door in his face, crawl back into bed, and force himself to believe this was all just a dream. The slightly distraught, little bit terrified look in Sam’s face made it hard for Danny to do that though. It must’ve taken a lot of nerve for Sam to come over here after he’d ignored him for so long, but Danny knew if he answered any one of Sam’s phone calls and heard the pain in his voice he’d immediately crack like he was now.

”Yeah,” he cleared the sleep from his voice and opened the door wider, “yeah come in”.

Sam entered the all too familiar room, though for once he stood around unsure where he should sit down, or if he even should. Danny sat on the edge of his bed, glancing from Sam to the spot next to him until Sam got the memo and gingerly settled in with enough space between them that it made him feel weird for even noticing,

”You said you wanted to talk” Danny started this time, having been counting each second of silence since Sam arrived. “Talk”.

Sam scoffed, he’d swallowed his pride for long enough to come over here, but not yet entirely forgiven the way Danny had reacted. “Maybe you should talk. You’re the one who’s been ignoring me. Why?”

“I don’t know Sam” Danny replied with a heavy sigh. He was way too tired for this, but honestly he’d been expecting it and yet with all this time he’d spent alone he hadn’t figured out what he was going to tell him.

“When we kissed, why did you run away?” Sam questioned again, annoyed that Danny was staring at his feet rather than facing him.

“I don’t know”.

“Did you… feel anything?”

“What?” Danny finally brought his eyes forward, meeting Sam’s fiery gaze.

“Did you feel anything when we kissed? Is that why you ran away?” Sam repeated.

“I don’t know”.

“I don’t know. Jesus Christ Daniel you sound like a broken record”.

“Well what do you want me to say Sam? That I kissed my best friend and suddenly everything’s changed? Because I just don’t know”.

“Everything has changed though. I haven’t seen you in three days. I was worried, I was angry, I was hurt”.

Danny winced at his words. He never wanted to hurt Sam, but then again he also had never asked to be brought into that game without consent. Without that nothing would have changed and he and Sam would still be enjoying the summer the way they were supposed to.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what to say. I’m at a loss”.

Sam bit his lip, he certainly hadn’t planned on coming over here and saying this, but as he held eye contact with Danny a thought crossed his mind. “Why don’t we… try again?”

“Try what again?” Danny asked. He could probably bet he knew what Sam was suggesting, but still he wanted to be absolutely sure.

“Kissing. Last time we were drunk, and… in a closet. We could try again now and see if we really do feel something or not”.

Danny thought about it for a moment, unsure if it was a good idea but also not having figured out how to sort this out on his own. “And if we don’t feel anything then things can just go back to normal?”

Back to normal? Sam thought, is that really what he wants? “Yeah, let’s just try and see”.

Danny inhaled, turning to the side with one knee on the bed and nodded his head. Sam used his hand on the comforter to scoot himself closer, his fingers brushing against Danny’s knee until he was close enough to lean over. He stopped just a few inches from Danny’s face, taking in every crease and sharp line from this short distance.

“Sam” Danny’s breath came out warm against his face, and Sam lurched forward to close the gap, smushing his lips against Danny’s haphazardly.

Neurons were firing off in Sam’s brain preventing him from moving for a few seconds, but when he came to he leaned closer and cupped Danny’s face in his palms. Some of the initial pressure subsided, but he moved to slot Danny’s bottom lip between his own and sucked gently.

When he pulled away and his eyes fluttered back open he could hear his heart pounding in his ears. Sam expected to see Danny glowing, see him as happy as he was in this moment, but Danny was rigid and his brows were furrowed together in inner turmoil.

“You can’t tell me you didn’t feel anything” Sam bemoaned, gripping Danny harder.

Danny tugged his face away, looking back to the ground. He couldn’t watch Sam’s reaction when he said this, it’d only break his heart worse.

“No Sam, I didn’t”.

[the-brash-spud]

So I have this bit of writing that I thought was hilarious, but sadly, it got scrapped along with the whole first attempt at the fic I'm writing, but I still want people to enjoy it, so imma just drop it here;

Nightwing sat there. Cross-legged applesauce on the chair. He was looking right at him with so much mischief written across his partially covered face that Marvel’s stomach did more than one funny flip. Trying to keep calm, Billy smiled as he took his hands off the keyboard, laying them on the chairs armrests as he sat deeper and leaned back into the chair while turning towards the blue bird. “Hey there! Need help with something?” He tilted his head as he offered, playing nonchalant about the situation. 

“You know, Batman once tripped on his own cape?” The smaller man said so suddenly he might have as well slapped Captain.

“Wha-”

“And he cried last month after he had to be put on some heavy pain killers after a serious injury because Red Robin called him “Dad” in panic.” Nightwing cut off the shocked hero. “Just last week, a villain managed to escape him because the laces in his new boots weren’t properly secured, and he tripped on those too.” He ignored the expression of horror growing on Marvel’s face and instead leaned in to whisper. “He can perfectly dance Cha-cha even without the music.” Apparently, the fading of colour in a fellow hero’s face was something that only encouraged the hero of the night. “He adopted so many similar looking kids I’ll bet my yearly salary that if another black-haired blue-eyed kid showed up at his house, he wouldn’t even notice.” 

Was this some sort of psychological warfare? A tactic from Batman to see who is the instigator of most of the gossip? Did he want to see how Billy manages to deal with stress? To see what he would do with possible blackmail? What sort of plot could the Gothamites have to do this? It felt like forever but also an instant as he stared at Nightwing. Did he expect something, anything? Some sort of reaction? Captain had so many questions, but none could leave his lips, so he went with the easiest one: “Why?”

“Nobody here knows anything about you, and you don’t pry into anybody’s business here.” Nightwing began. “You’re an immortal being of magic as far as people are aware. In the end they trust you with their lifes but believe me, they don’t always believe you. There are bets going on about which ones of your reports are actually just you pulling their leg. If you now went and told them everything I just said, word for word, they wouldn’t believe you because apart from the aforementioned point, they are also sure I already left.” The face of the smaller man was serious as he explained. 

“Then… then why? What’s the point?” Billy was still in a serious state of shock. He didn’t even comprehend what Nightwing said other heroes thought of him. It just flew over his head. 

The grin on the hero in black was almost wicked as he answered simply. “I felt like causing a bit of mischief.” He then just uncrossed his legs in one fluid motion and gracefully stood up. “Anyway, good talk! Can I have your name, Captain?”

So yeah, there was a bit before and after when it comes to this, lol

Do whatever with the idea, enjoy.

[hollowed-theory-hall]

is there a male and a female dementirs or they're hermaphrodites or how they're actually produces? HOW THEY'RE WORKING? how they're understands wizards? where did they go after ii war?

+is there solitary confinement in Azkaban? are there family ones and then Bella and her husband together? are there separate for the animagi if their condition is known? for werewolves? so many questions

Well, I collected what I could regarding dementor breeding in canon, which, well, it isn't much:

“I thought dementors guard the prisoners in Azkaban,” he said cautiously. “They did,” said Fudge wearily. “But not anymore. They’ve deserted the prison and joined He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. I won’t pretend that wasn’t a blow.” “But,” said the Prime Minister, with a sense of dawning horror, “didn’t you tell me they’re the creatures that drain hope and happiness out of people?” “That’s right. And they’re breeding. That’s what’s causing all this mist.”

(HBP, 14)

And in an interview on October 2000, JKR stated this:

One young Canadian boy earlier asked her how Dementers breed. "I was just so pleased that he thought about it and pleased that I had the answer," Rowling told The Canadian Press. "These evil creatures don't, by the way, breed but grow like a fungus where there is decay."

(From here)

Usually, I don't put much stoke in what JKR states outside the books, but specifically in this case, I do agree with her. Her statement regarding how dementors "breed" makes a lot of sense with what is known about them.

Dementors, like Poltergeists and Boggarts, are categorized by the Ministry of Magic as Non-Beings, meaning beings who aren't quite alive and therefore can't truly die. We see it in how Dementors can't be killed but only driven back. They can't be killed because they aren't alive in the first place.

The Pottermore article reiterates it:

Many in authority thought Azkaban an evil place that was best destroyed. Others were afraid of what might happen to the Dementors infesting the building if they deprived them of their home. The creatures were already strong and impossible to kill; many feared a horrible revenge if they took away a habitat where they appeared to thrive. The very walls of the building seemed steeped in misery and pain, and the Dementors were determined to cling to it. Experts who had studied buildings built with and around Dark magic contended that Azkaban might wreak its own revenge upon anybody attempting to destroy it. The fortress was therefore left abandoned for many years, a home to continually breeding Dementors.

(From Pottermore)

They breed where there is misery and they aren't quite alive, therefore whatever their reproduction is like, it isn't the normal way.

So, let's look at what we're told of Ekrizdis, the dark wizard who built Azkaban which encouraged their breeding:

The fortress upon it was originally home to a little-known sorcerer who called himself Ekrizdis. Evidently extremely powerful, but of unknown nationality, Ekrizdis, who is believed to have been insane, was a practitioner of the worst kinds of Dark Arts. Alone in the middle of the ocean, he lured, tortured and killed Muggle sailors, apparently for pleasure, and only when he died, and the concealment charms he had cast faded away, did the Ministry of Magic realise that either island or building existed. Those who entered to investigate refused afterwards to talk of what they had found inside, but the least frightening part of it was that the place was infested with Dementors.

(From Pottermore)

To me, this seems to imply Dementors are attracted to places of pain and misery, something we know from Remus Lupin, as well:

They infest the darkest, filthiest places, they glory in decay and despair, they drain peace, hope, and happiness out of the air around them. [...] If it can, the dementor will feed on you long enough to reduce you to something like itself . . . soul-less and evil. You’ll be left with nothing but the worst experiences of your life.

(PoA, 187)

Now, Lupin's second statement is a bit misleading, since it simply a dementor's kiss might make you a dementor, but we know that's not how this works, he is speaking in hyperbole here. A dementor's kiss sucks out your soul and leaves a husk behind, but doesn't create a dementor.

The first part is what's more interesting in regard to dementors breeding. They infest places that are hopeless and filled with pain and agony.

Summarising all this together, I think dementors don't breed, per se, they are drawn to places of hopelessness and despair, and these places, in themselves, breed dementors. Dementors are actual dark creatures who function of dark magic — hence, emotion. This means that strong emotions of hopelessness, fear, and pain literally create dementors. They're like the evil version of fairies in them being created out of human emotion.

Once a lot of them are present in one location, they themselves, cause despair and hopelessness in humans around them and like that create more dementors. This is how they breed, they are born from despair, then their presence causes more despair and more dementors are born. Rinse and repeat.

About dementors in general, from what Sirius said it seems they don't really see. They sense human emotions and work according to that:

So, one night when they opened my door to bring food, I slipped past them as a dog. . . . It’s so much harder for them to sense animal emotions that they were confused. . . .

(PoA, 372)

As for how they communicate with wizards, the answer seems to be that they can talk:

“I must go down to the dementors,” said Dumbledore. “I said I would inform them when our search was complete.”

(PoA, 166)

They can be informed of things, they can make deals, they can sorta be reasoned with, at least, they understand English it seems, even if sometimes they like to act like they don't. Considering Fudge and Dumbledore mention talking to the dementors, they likely have a way to talk back and describe their wants. Dementors are sentient and capable of more complex thoughts like revenge, and patience if it means more food later. They understand these things. Though I imagine their voice sounds awful, like nails on a chalkboard inside your skull. Like, I headcanon they more project their voice to your mind rather than properly speak.

Harry mentioned Dementors make sounds:

There was a soft, crackling noise, and a shivering light filled the compartment. Professor Lupin appeared to be holding a handful of flames. They illuminated his tired, gray face, but his eyes looked alert and wary.

(PoA, 83)

My headcanon is that this crackling is how they speak aloud to each other, but they do the projecting their words thing I mentioned earlier when they want to talk to wizards.

For the second half of the ask, I'm pretty sure the only option in Azkaban is mostly solitary confinement. The cells seem to be only for a single prisoner at a time, they don't have "yard time" or anything like that, so they never leave their cells. Even their food is brought to their cells by Dementors. The only people they seem to have contact with are the other prisoners they can see/hear from their own cell or when the sparse few visitors come by.

Here are a few statements regarding the conditions of Azkaban:

The fortress is set on a tiny island, way out to sea, but they don’t need walls and water to keep the prisoners in, not when they’re all trapped inside their own heads, incapable of a single cheerful thought. Most of them go mad within weeks.

(PoA, 188)

I saw the dementors bringing him in, watched them through the bars in my cell door. He can’t have been more than nineteen. They took him into a cell near mine. He was screaming for his mother by nightfall. He went quiet after a few days, though . . . they all went quiet in the end . . . except when they shrieked in their sleep. . . .

(GoF, 528)

But the real solitary confinement is caused by the dementors. Prisoners live inside their own heads, going mad. As illustrated above. It's why Fudge was so surprised by how sane Sirius was:

but I was shocked at how normal Black seemed. He spoke quite rationally to me. It was unnerving. You’d have thought he was merely bored — asked if I’d finished with my newspaper, cool as you please, said he missed doing the crossword. Yes, I was astounded at how little effect the dementors seemed to be having on him

(PoA, 209)