#I have absolutely no idea who could have sent this
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One: “Thanks, I Hate You”
You and your arrogant PR client are bitter rivals, and there’s no length Loki won’t go to just to watch you squirm. Just when you think you’re going to get a much-needed break from the Great Redeemed Prince’s ego, you’re tapped to escort him to, of all things, a peace summit in Australia.
CONTENT WARNING: Loki's an asshole
WORD COUNT: 3.4k
MASTERLIST
“Mr. Odinson, tell me, how does it feel to be reformed for eighteen months now?”
“Mr. Laufeyson, actually, and it feels absolutely incredible, it’s as if my soul is free at last!”
“And you have no more genocidal urges or Asgardian instincts to kill?”
“Never again will I do harm to the people of this planet, who have so kindly agreed to give me a second chance after removing the influence of my--err---the scepter.”
Loki’s shit-eating grin unfolded across his face, but to the untrained eye, he looked every bit the contrite warlord who fell in love with the world he’d once targeted for conquest. He could twitch and tweak every muscle in his face into the optimal layout for ass-kissing, and the only ones who were ever wise were you and the rest of the team.
“At least he plays the part well,” you said bitterly to Tony, leaning over to mutter in his ear while watching the former ‘God’ play up the press like they were at a rock concert. Some of the reporters looked downright charmed, but you knew better. You were more interested in the snow flurries that were falling outside the window.
Tony shrugged. “Yeah, he’s okay.”
You sneered, rolling your eyes with disbelief. “Until the flash bulbs stop. Then he becomes a baboon’s taint.”
Stark muffled a snort of laughter with his fist. “Always one for eloquence. That’s why I hired you.”
“I’m also the only one around willing to wrangle that,” you paused, pointing at Loki as he folded his hands into a prayer pose, expressing gratitude for the praise he was receiving, “for your pittance of an asking price.”
“I pay you well,” Tony shot back in defense. “Loki knows how to keep up appearances--”
“--he took off his pants in the lunchroom yesterday to annoy me--”
“--most of the time.”
You folded your arms across your chest, glancing at the clock on the wall behind Loki as things in the press room wrapped up. In his very basic outfit: a dress shirt and tie, black slacks, and a tight, professional ponytail, he looked dashing enough. You’d known the truth about him for the eighteen months since you were hired to be his PR manager: Loki had all of the behavioral maturity of an eight-year-old high on pixie sticks. He loved attention, always jutting out his hips when he strutted about the complex, flipping his hair over his shoulder.
Loki loved to paint himself as the very model of a modern major comeback story. At first, it was for self-preservation. The terms of his parole as set forth by the UN were strict, and the best course of action to keep his freedom was to play by their rules. Over the next year-and-a-half, however, once it was clear that his image was evolving into that of a celebrity, Loki took the idea and ran with it, and he only used your unsavory opinion of his to fuel the fire he lit under your feet every chance he got.
It was almost as if he targeted you with most of his snarks and jests, always calling you every synonym for ‘boring’ he could muster. For a while, you could brush him off, but after the repeated comments, you began to push back…which led you to your current relationship status: tense at best, resentful and irritable more frequently.
You could not stand him! He never listened to your advice on how to conduct himself in public. One of his favorite pastimes was inviting the worst kinds of people over for sex, and then making you call them afterwards to dump them. “Loki isn’t sure he’s ready to fully commit to one person yet, but last night will always live in his memory…” It was degrading, gross, and such a slimeball move. You always sent each of his poor conquests a fruit basket the size of SoHo.
The only reason you refused to resign was that you really needed the money. Despite your repeated complaints, Tony was actually paying you very well. You could afford an apartment with a private toilet in Manhattan, anyway.
“And that’s all we have time for this afternoon, everyone,” Tony leapt onto the stage and gently nudged Loki away from the podium. “We’re all proud of Loki’s rehabilitation, as well as his decision to live among us and help the Avengers keep this world safe.”
The applause was thunderous. You bit your lower lip and got another glimpse of the snow squall outside while Loki bowed and mouthed thanks to his supporters. Every second you could successfully divert your attention away from the Asgardian was a victory. Alas, it was temporary.
As soon as he left the stage, he gave you a smarmy, evil wink. “Better than ever, wouldn’t you say?”
“Hercules couldn’t clean out all the bullshit in your stables, Loki,” you said with an exasperated sigh.
“Successfully convincing the world of your contrition is an art, you know.”
“So is painting on walls with shit, to some.”
Loki couldn’t help but snicker under his breath, You were the most feisty woman he’d ever met, aside from maybe Natasha Romanoff. “I see we’re fond of the scatalogical comebacks today. Doesn’t that mean your menses are coming on?”
You could have whirled around on your heels and punched him, but your restraint was enough to keep your professional demeanor, at least until you were out of public sight and in one of the private areas. There were still a LOT of people around and your entire job was keeping up appearances for both yourself and your charge. “I have a headache today, Loki, please shut up and let me do my job.”
“So it is your cycle!” he chortled, putting his hands on his hips. “Do you know what they say helps with menstrual cramps?”
���Don’t!” you warned between gritting teeth, giving Loki a glare of death. “I mean it!”
Loki paused, as if he was actually going to listen. Then he opened his trap, and it came out: “a good hard dicking!”
There it was. Your line. Loki had crossed it so far that he was about to meet customs on the other side.
You slapped him across his right cheek hard enough for his head to whip to the side. Of course, he was able to recover from it quickly, only to pout his lips and widen his eyes when several gasps from the reporters still in the press room silenced everything else. Loki’s snarky smile never left his face, especially as he looked back at you with a somewhat more venomous twinge.
“It’s 2024,” you scowled, “try something less sexist than blaming my period next time, assbag.”
“So violent,” he said lightly. “So attractive. No wonder you have so many dates…oh wait, that’s me!” he said mockingly, putting a hand over his heart and acting surprised. “I have all the dates, and you’re the one who resents that and takes it out on me by hitting me in front of all of my friends!”
He dropped his sarcastic smile, replacing it with narrow, threatening eyes and a thin frown. “Embarrass me like that again, woman, I dare you.”
“I only resent that you make me clean your dirty sheets afterwards, asshole,” you answered. “I don’t really care how many strains of herpes you intend to collect from the Greater New York area. You’re a pampered little twat, and I really do deserve more money for babysitting you.”
You started to leave, but you quickly thought better of it and walked back to say one more thing. “And I will gladly smack you in front of these people any day of the week! No one else is going to put you in your place!”
“And what place is that, Madam?” he asked, folding his arms and raising an eyebrow.
Nearby, a young blonde reporter who was clearly one of Loki’s fans had taken special interest, and was trying to shoot as many desperate glances at him as she could, asking for her turn in his bed with only verbal cues from across a crowded room.
“I’d say Hell, but you probably have a permanent residence there already.”
You noticed the blonde was starting to inch closer, and in her stupid, beady little eyes you saw your escape. “I think I see your Skank of the Day coming in for the steal right now.”
Loki turned to look at the blonde reporter, and he looked somewhat unimpressed. “I suppose. The only other creature in here with any sort of beauty is--”
He stopped mid-thought and decided to go back into his debonair facade, waving you away snobbishly and sticking his nose up. “You’re done for the day, I think. Now please leave me to woo this exquisite little doll who approaches…”
You did have some work you needed him for. There was a peace summit in Australia hosted by Amnesty International, and Loki was a keynote speaker, having been spared from the death penalty and turned into the Earth’s darling. He was the world’s most instantly-recognizable proof that anyone could be rehabilitated, which made him a highly desirable motivational speaker. The summit was in three days, and you needed to brief him on the PR person taking over your duties once he crossed the international dateline.
He could terrorize the Land Down Under for five days all he wanted. You were about to have your first vacation from the miserable fucker since starting your job. This was going to be your Christmas.
However, you didn’t feel like dragging him away from the little hopeful moving in on him, and instead you decided to begin packing your bag for your long-desired break from Loki.
“She what?!” you growled in anger, turning away from Stark and Banner to hide that fact that you were almost instantly upset by their news.
“Mrs. Donner resigned yesterday,” said Bruce Banner, twiddling his thumbs apprehensively, making him look like a human-sized pangolin. “She’s not taking Loki to Australia.”
“WHY NOT? She’s more qualified than I am!” you bullshitted, doing anything to try and convince these two to go after her. You knew what this meant, but you weren’t ready to accept it just yet. You were a fighter, and you sure as hell weren’t going to sacrifice your time off now.
“She’s also a Mormon. I’m surprised she put up with Loki’s harassment as long as she has,” replied Banner.
“Or maybe she enjoyed it so much she had to jet off to Planet More-Men or whatever heaven is for them,” Stark mumbled.
“It doesn’t matter,” you said, brushing the air in front of you as if erasing something off of an invisible chalk board, “what does matter is who we are going to send him with. His parole terms state he cannot cross international boundaries alone.”
“C”mon, Y/N, you know where this is going!” said Tony with a wink.
“No,” you said firmly.
“It’ll be summer down there,” said Banner, “It’ll be nicer than here in New York.”
“No!” you repeated. “My vacation!”
Stark rolled his eyes. “I know, I know, that’s why I’m offering you a month’s paid sabbatical after you return.”
“No…I…what?” your fast, angry thoughts slowed on the conveyor belt as you began processing his counteroffer. “I was only scheduled for a week!”
Tony nodded. “Yeah, I’m quadrupling that right now, I’ll even get it in writing if you want. I can do that. I’m awesome like that.”
A month! A month without Loki poking fun of your ‘menses’ or humiliating you with jests and quips under his breath. A whole month of sleeping in late, dressing like a slob, and not worrying about how you or any client of yours appeared to the public. Tony Stark certainly knew how to play your game.
“You must be desperate,” you sighed, thinking about it.
“Well, if Loki can’t attend the summit, it’ll look kinda bad,” Bruce added, his low, bashful voice somewhat harder to hear than Tony’s confident tone.
“I’ll get you VIP passes to any club in the city for the whole month you’re off,” Tony added. “Four of them. And unlimited cocktail service. Live like a movie star for the next month, and all you have to do is babysit our little horndog for five days in Aussieland this week.”
“Deal,” you acquiesced at last, not missing a beat. “I’ll do it.”
“Excellent.”
All three of you turned your heads toward the intrusive new voice in the room. Loki was leaning against the doorway to the office, arms folded, a shit-eating sneer on his face. You felt your skin go hot at his sudden, unwelcome appearance.
“I was hoping that my exertions manipulating that old dowager into quitting would bear fruit, and now it seems I’m just time for my little trip with my dearest friend in the Realm!”
“Easy, Lokes,” said Stark, holding back a laugh. “Don’t push it, ok?”
You bit your lip to keep your temper. It didn’t make any difference if you kept protesting. You’d taken Stark’s carrot, and now you had five days of this jester’s extraterrestrial farts to sniff.
“Oh, I’m sure the next few days will include plenty of pushing about,” said Loki.
Tony raised an eyebrow and began following Banner as he snuck out of the room. “Be on the roof tomorrow morning. Oh, and uh, the quinjet has got some issues so it can’t go any faster than Mach 1.5 right now. Means it’ll take a little longer to get out there. Hope you two can get comfortable with one another real fast.”
“You…you set this up,” you hissed, your anger bubbling to the surface now that your employer was out of range. “I ought to ask your father to hang you.”
This only made him laugh. “He would only love the pleasure, I’m sure.”
And I would love to see your corpse swinging by the neck, you thought. “Why? Why did you do this?” you asked with frustration. “You hate me and I absolutely hate you, Loki, so why force us to be in closer proximity for longer than necessary?”
“Oh, I couldn’t stand the idea of being apart from you, sweet pea! It’s my greatest delight in life to always hover five paces behind you and piss you off. The mere idea of being so far away for so long!” Loki brought a mocking hand to his heart, expressing fake sadness in both his body and face. “My heart would only cry for you.”
“I should just make you go alone and make an ass of yourself,” you suggested. “Maybe some Australian hell-beast will swallow you whole.”
“Oh-ho! By all means,” Loki chuckled, throwing his head back. “Let me loose without supervision in a foreign country as the sole representative of the United States, the Nine Realms, and the Avengers. That will go over well for all of us.”
Your jaw hung open, no witty retorts for him, Unfortunately, he was right. Punking out would in one way or another, only serve to humiliate yourself and Stark.
“Ah, ah…” Loki tucked a finger under your chin, nudging your mouth closed by poking your chin upward, “You’ll catch flies.”
He left you there, speechless in the middle of the room, only turning back in the doorway to add: “I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow, darling!”
Before going to bed that night, curled up in your sad little futon in your one-bedroom loft, you prayed to every god that wasn’t Asgardian that there would be some kind of apocalyptic blizzard that popped up out of nowhere, forcing the takeoff to be delayed. Inclement weather was probably the only acceptable excuse for Loki to be a no-show down in Sydney. WHile the city didn;t necessarily get as much snow as upstate near the lakes, it usually took a few inches to shut the whole place down. There was hope. Perhaps the weatherfolks were keeping it a surprise…
This meant, of course, that the next morning was the first perfectly sunny morning New York had seen in weeks. In a small act of rebellion against the little shit you had to babysit, you chose to take your sweet time getting in. You purposefully dragged your feet down to the subway, your suitcase dragging along like a weight tethered to your wrist. You saw an abnormally-long line outside of a coffee shop and decided to stop in for an Americano.
By the time you made it to the rooftop of Stark Tower, you were over an hour late, which was not typical for you. The jet was otherwise prepped, the diminutive young pilot tapping his feet impatiently by the nose, Stark and Loki just tossing the last of his belongings in around the side.
“Look who finally decided to grace us with her presence,” said Tony.
Loki dropped what he was doing and shuffled up to you. He gave a mock bow, taking your hand and laying a big wet kiss on the back of it. “My escort, how lovely to finally see your bright face ready for our trip!”
“Die.”
Loki pouted. “Oh, is that any way to greet your business partner? I asked for you to be at my side all week long! Don’t you think I’m owed a little more courtesy?”
“Please die.”
“That’s my girl.”
Just before you boarded, Tony gave you a wink and one last piece of advice: “Remember, when the going gets tough, lie back and think of England.”
The last thing he saw before the doors shut was your middle finger.
Once the pilot got the quinjet into the air, he announced that he’d need to take his time in order to appease whatever yet-to-be-diagnosed tech issue the plane had, and prevent something from happening.
“Ugh, so what’s our ETA, then?” Loki asked impatiently, the saccharine facade dropping the instant he was out of Stark’s view.
The pilot shrugged. “I can get us there safely in five hours, maybe.”
“FIVE HOURS?” you groaned. “This thing is--”
“--gonna disintegrate if I don’t treat it gently,” he shot back. “Relax! It’s still a hell of a lot faster than if you were flying in a Boeing, okay?”
You and Loki looked at each other with annoyance. You sighed and went to sit as far away from the cockpit as you could, taking a green-jacketed book from your shoulder bag and flipping it open a bit too dramatically.
Unfortunately, Loki didn’t seem to take the hint, sitting beside you and peeking over your shoulder.
“You kept us waiting on purpose,” he accused. “You’re a bit of a brat, you know.”
You couldn’t take it anymore. Gently shutting the book, you turned to Loki with the most serious expression you could muster without losing your professionalism.
“Look, Laufeyson, you’re the one who set this up for us. If I had to venture a guess, it’s because you’re bored and needed a new way to make me miserable. But let’s make one thing perfectly clear: I hate you. I can’t stand your smarmy face and how you get off on making me crazy! Every time you open your mouth, it makes me want to drop-kick an orphan! I’d rather have a root canal while on ecstasy every day for the rest of my life than be sitting right here next to you.”
Loki didn’t blink. “...and how does that make you feel?”
“But I’m getting my big payout when this is all over, so for FUCK’S SAKE, let’s make this easy on both of us? You don’t bother me, I won’t bother you. You can find a kangaroo’s pouch to ride around in for all I care.” You went to open your book again, but Loki laid a firm hand over top of it.
“I’m hurt. Truly.”
You snickered. “Sure.”
“You know what your problem is?” Loki leaned back, crossing his hands casually. “You’re too uptight.”
“Uptight? You call me defending myself against all of your abuse UPTIGHT?” you growled from behind your gritted teeth.
“Well, it wasn’t abuse at first,” Loki added, “I was only making jokes to say hello!”
“Bullshit,” you said angrily. “The day we met, you called me a servant and asked if I would massage your feet.”
“Well, now it’s just fun for me to watch you lose your temper,” he admitted. “The thought of being alone with you to twist and push every button you’ve got just to see how loudly you’d shout…”
“Stop it, Loki! I’d rather this plane go down right now than be alone with you. Ever!”
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how could one make the ideal football team using only frev figures?
Thank you so much for this ask, @citizen-card! I'm sorry it has taken me a little while to answer. Your question was sent to me during the anti-truth hour but tbh, creating a football team of FRev figures has been on my agenda for some time.
I present… MONTAGNE F.C.
Montagne F.C., est. 1793, are an exciting team with an attacking ethos but also strong in defence (of the patrie). They tend to play in the popular modern 4-3-3 formation, which morphs into a 4-3-2-1 in the final stages of attack with Fabre as the lone striker up front.
Goalkeeper: Hérault de Séchelles. Team heart-throb. At over 6' tall, has the reach to make saves across the width and height of the net. Tends to leave the field as soon as the final whistle has blown so that he has time to sign hundreds of portraits before heading off to some highly exclusive nightclub. Fabre always tries to tag along.
Left Fullback: Saint-Just. The youngest team member, just as well given the amount of running he has to do on the overlap. Wishes Robespierre would allow him to trust his own instincts more rather than constantly shouting, “Forward, forward – no, come back! Come back!” Has a good understanding with his right fullback counterpart Le Bas. Desmoulins lives rent-free in his head.
Centre Back: Desmoulins. Only plays here because he thinks he can leave most of the defensive work to Danton, which is interesting because Danton thinks he can leave most of the work to Desmoulins. Writes the official fan newsletter, gets annoyed that Robespierre keeps sending back articles covered in red ink. Sings “You’re shit, and you know you are” at Saint-Just, then pretends it was someone in the crowd. Robespierre often has to separate them in the tunnel at half-time.
Centre Back: Danton. Undoubted talent, but lazy a.f. Stands by one of the goalposts chatting with Hérault, only springing into action if there’s an imminent danger of the opponents scoring a goal. When he does decide to put in a tackle, he goes in studs up. Loudest voice on the pitch, constantly shouting at the lads up front to show more audacity in counterattack.
Right Fullback: Le Bas. Lovely clean player, never booked, never carded. Not flashy, but he runs his heart out for the team every game. Sometimes wishes he’d get as much attention in match reports as Saint-Just, but then pushes the idea out of his head and keeps smiling through. His Instagram account is basically pictures of his wife, their baby, and Saint-Just.
Left Midfielder: Marat. Pushing 50 and still an absolute demon on the attack. Nips around defenders easily, puts this down to his low centre of gravity. Runs an edgy underground fanzine. Team physio and doctor, takes a no-nonsense approach to injuries, believes everything can be cured by sponging off with cold water and vinegar. Gives Fabre a kick when he dives, claiming “it’ll do him good”.
Central Midfielder: Billaud-Varenne. Always turns up for training and matches with Collot d’Herbois. In rondos, has to be reminded to pass the ball to someone else once in a while. Does allegedly unscripted fun fan-meet videos with Collot.
Right Midfielder: Collot d’Herbois. Devises the scripts for the fun fan-meet videos he films with Billaud. Threatened to shoot a fan who tried to improvise. The archetypal loose cannon, as much of a menace to his team-mates as to the opposition. Once tried to throw Robespierre over an advertising hoarding for windows.
Left Winger: Maximilien Robespierre. Self-appointed player-manager. Did all his coaching certificates, attended at least one course twice “to make sure I’ve taken it all in”. Obsessive in preparation for matches, likes to have a week analysing the opposition before he presents his tactics to the team. Doesn’t like overly physical play, says 99% of the game is won by character. Often booked for arguing with the referee for so long, it gets dark. Cult icon with the female fans, nobody – least of all him – is quite sure why.
Right Winger: Augustin 'Bonbon' Robespierre. His brother’s biggest fan and cheerleader, but a gifted player in his own right. More physically courageous in attack than Maximilien, also has something of a reputation as a talent-spotter. Reckons he saw a player who might be “the next big thing” down in Toulon.
Striker: Fabre d’Églantine. Fancies himself as much as he wishes everyone else fancied him. Posts daily (but suspiciously short) topless workout videos on his Instagram. Hérault always puts three laugh emojis in the comments. Feigns injury to try and win penalties, a nightmare for Robespierre who’s convinced he’ll be red carded for fakery one of these days. Dives, rolls and wails shamelessly. Should spend longer in the shower after matches.
----
At some point I might get round to drawing the team, team kit and badge, etc... But yep, that's my FRev starting 11!
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Hey! I'm new around Tumblr and since the first day I found your blog.. I'm literally obsessed with your fictions!! Love the fictions, characters... I think you're one of the bests 💕💕Especially, I love Hector and Isiah, bromanceee!💖
Umm, when you have time and done with the fics on your list, would you consider a new one about Hector who's reeeally sick with high fever (and some other symptoms which is totally up to your imagination) and Isiah taking care of him?? I'd really love to read that!
♡Thank you with sharing these characters and world with us!
Hello nonny and welcome! That's so sweet of you to say, thank you so much🥰💕 This really fit as continuation for sick feverish Hector after his appendicitis operation, so here you go 😊
Appendicitis Aftermath
Arnie was biting his nails. Isaiah was seriously considering if he shouldn't point it out, because it was climbing up his fried nerves.
Arnie sat in the backseat, without a seat belt so he could hover in the middle between Isaiah behind the wheel and Hector.
One would say Isaiah would be used to being called to a crisis with his brothers in the middle of the night by now. However, it didn't get easier with practice.
Arnie was nearly in tears, mumbling about Hector, an operation, and an unruly shadow, which sent Isaiah into a panic. Turned rather anticlimactic when he arrived at the hospital.
Hector had appendicitis. The operation was routine, small, nothing serious. They caught it on time. Except the shadow was a problem. Isaiah was all ready to roll it down for his brother, when the medics came with the idea they could just drug him up with heavy stuff.
Hector was a wolf, meaning he couldn't heal an inflammation, infection, or sickness, but if they took the appendix out, his shadow would be able to heal the wound afterward. He didn't have to stay in the hospital; they even allowed them to take him home.
They needed only to wait for his shadow to recover.
Until then, Hector was stitched up and with bandages over the wound, hurting like any mortal would.
Another quiet crack as Arnie bit into the nail on his forefinger, fidgeting on Isaiah's right.
Hector was pale, holding himself rigidly in the seat. His eyes were closed, but he took those carefully measured breaths that told Isaiah he wasn't asleep.
The car jostled over a bump and Hector hissed quietly, jerking his head.
"Sorry about that. Almost home, buddy," Isaiah said, planting his hand on Hector's leg for a second to reassure him. Hector said nothing, curling onto himself.
"You'll be fine—humans undergo these operations every day and recover well." Arnie leaned in closer, a ball of nervous energy. Surprisingly so, since he slept even less than Isaiah, calling the ambulance at 3 in the morning.
Isaiah understood Arnie was trying to play the situation down, appealing to Hector's pride so he wouldn't let the pain get to him so much, but he didn't think it was currently helping.
Hector was simply in pain—one that wasn't leaving, wasn't getting better, and wouldn't be healed by his shadow for the next 12 hours at the least. This was not a good forecast for a wolf not used to endure pain, but there was no way to play it down.
Isaiah didn't have it in him to admonish Arnie though. His two younger brothers knew each other better than he knew them, he didn't dare. He understood Arnie was stressed out about it - he was even acutely aware of the fact.
One of the reasons why he found sharing his pain, sickness or weakness absolutely unacceptable with his brothers. He would not put Arnie through such an experience if he could help it. He never did, actually.
But he had failed in front of Hector one or two times about that, so he understood that too. Besides, it would probably be healthier to admit it, if they knew how to handle it right.
"Shit," Hector grunted, pressing his forehead against the window, hands gingerly around his stomach, just above the wound. "Stupid fucking medics, taking my shadow away."
"They couldn't work around it," Arnie said defensively, feeling involved in the decision since Hector was unconscious at the time. "It would be like the scene from Spiderman 2. The tentacles of Doc Oc killing everyone. Besides, the meds will wear off quicker than if it got rolled down."
"So glad you got it all planned out," Hector snapped, face white and strained. "Helps a shitton-"
"Alright," Isaiah interjected. "That's enough. Arnie is just trying to help," Isaiah said, giving the youngest a pointed look to just shut up. "Hex, anything we can do for you right now?"
"What would you want to do?!" Hector protested, growl in his voice. "Just want to go freaking home. What are you so slow for?"
Isaiah decided not to mention he was driving slowly because of Hector, to avoid the jostling as much as possible.
"Fucking grandma drives faster," Hector continued under his breath, but his eyes were open and more alert now as he watched the streets glide by the window.
Isaiah was relieved to finally reach Hector's apartment, though he took a deep breath to brace himself for the next part.
Hector put his hands on his knees experimentally, breaths coming in faster. He was scared of the walk.
"Arnie, go in first and open up for us, would you?" Isaiah suggested, for all their sakes. He didn't think struggling in front of Arnie made it any easier, nor was Arnie taking it very well.
Arnie dangled the keys in his hands and hurried out of the car. It swung left and right at the impact of the door slamming shut. Hector moaned quietly, hanging his head over his legs.
Isaiah opened and closed his doors gently, circling around slowly to let Hector prepare for it.
He opened the door and put a hand on Hector's nape. Sweat was clinging to his skin, and he felt warm and feverish.
"It won't be so bad. I'll help you," Isaiah said gently, rubbing his finger up and down on Hector's nape.
Hector straightened up, twitched at the movement, slowly swinging one leg out of the car. "Just-" he gulped, "just give me a minute?"
"Whenever you are ready. Take your time."
Hector closed his eyes for three more long breaths, then opened up with more fight in his eyes. "Okay."
Isaiah hugged him from the side so he could brace Hector's weight against him and pulled him up slowly. He aimed not to have Hector tense any of his stomach muscles to get upright.
Hector wrapped his arm around Isaiah’s neck, taking a fistful of his coat in his hand. He took a shaky breath but didn't protest being pulled up.
Isaiah took two steps to the side to close the door behind them and lock the car up. He wrapped his arm properly around Hector's middle, gripping it at his healthy side, half of his brother's weight on him. "Five minutes and you can lay down," he promised.
They made their way to the elevator, where Hector closed his eyes, slumping even more against Isaiah. "...how many more hours?"
"If we start counting from the moment the IV was removed and take 12 hours as the goal - around 10 hours and 40 minutes to go."
Hector pressed his lips together, murmuring something. "Keep the count for me?" he asked in a low voice, as if he were trying to find a nicer way to say it.
Isaiah readjusted his grip on him as the elevator arrived. "Of course."
Arnie left the door open for them. Isaiah didn't bother with the shoes and coats, dragging Hector to his room.
"Slowly now," he said as he helped him lower himself onto the bed. Getting down was as much of a challenge as getting up.
Hector let out a little groan as he sat down, white as a sheet from the short walk. He hunched over himself but didn't lie down immediately, letting Isaiah undo his shoes.
"It's best if you just sleep through it," Isaiah said, gently helping Hector lay down against the pillows. He pushed the covers on top. It was a corner bed, so the wall was right next to them to lean on, and there was a TV hanging from the opposite wall.
Hector squirmed under the covers, face one big grimace. "Don't think I can sleep."
"Then let's find some low-energy distractions," Isaiah said. He got rid of his shoes and coat and climbed into the bed beside Hector. "Old movie or new? Something you like and could focus on what be good."
Hector's eyebrows knitted together in puzzlement at Isaiah, but he didn't comment on him inviting himself over.
Hector shifted around with his shoulders, comically lost in the covers. "Zaya? Could I- could you just get me something for this?" He pressed the words through his teeth.
"You are still on the meds from the hospital, there really isn't anything stronger here."
"Yeah, well that sucks," Hector said with a shudder. His hands pushed at the covers, digging into them with his fingers.
"We could try some ice on the wound. And maybe you could drink something?" Isaiah didn't like the sweat on Hector's forehead or the heat radiating from him even just sitting this close.
The doors creaked when Arnie stuck his head in. Isaiah quietly asked him what items to bring and added a thermometer for good measure.
"Is there no trick to this?" Hector said in a strangled voice, looking longingly at Isaiah's human-shaped shadow neatly tucked at the end of the bed without any light to explain the angle.
"Try calling for it as much as possible," Isaiah suggested. "I'm not experienced with drugs and medication, but the more you call it, the faster it tries to get back."
Hector curled up on his side, arms wrapped around his chest like he was cold. His forehead creased in concentration before he gasped for a breath, twisting in the pillows. "Doesn't work. I can't even...it's like reaching for something under the sofa. I know it's there, but I can't touch it." There was a hint of a whine in that sentence.
"Shhhhhhh. Then just let it be for a bit." The worst they could do was to get Hector upset. Isaiah put his hand on Hector's shoulder, almost by the neck, holding him steady as he took deep, ragged breaths.
Arnie tiptoed inside, bringing the ice wrapped in a kitchen towel, a glass of water and a thermometer. His fingertips were all chewed and bloody.
Isaiah sighed and whispered: "Go disinfect that and take a nap. I've got him." With Hector's shadow absent, he couldn't hear them.
Arnie looked at Isaiah with a glassy, scared look as if he weren't sure he really wanted to do this alone. Finally, he nodded. "Call me if you need something."
Hector shuffled under the covers so Isaiah could put the wrapped-up ice on top of the bandages. Hector winced at the contact before leaning back again. "Is he pissed off or something?"
"He is fine. Tired and worried," Isaiah said, sitting down properly against the wall. He turned on the TV, clicking between the channels until he found some kind of Tom Cruise action movie. "Are you sure you don't have a preference?"
"I don't have a list of favorites on the ready," Hector complained. "How the hell do you have time for that?"
Isaiah shrugged. "Movie night on Wednesdays, usually some kind of cinema or movie with Seline during the week and free weekend afternoons."
"What, Seline gives you breaks on the weekends?"
"Kinda. She is always out visiting her parents."
Hector gave him a look. "What? Why?"
"There are apparently parents worth visiting."
Hector frowned, silent for a long minute. Isaiah winced internally. Parents weren't a good topic by a stretch. Not since the whole reveal drama.
Hector rolled his head to look at the TV absently, though now he looked more dazed than focused. Isaiah hoped that was a sign he really would nod off to sleep. There were still 10 hours left.
"It's too freaking warm in here," Hector complained out of a sudden, scrambling up on shaky hands.
"What do you think you are doing?" Isaiah pushed him back, getting out of bed nimbly to open the window. "I'll do it. Just stay put."
Hector lifted himself up on the pillows a little, face scrunching up. "I don't feel well."
Isaiah got back onto the bed. "I know. It will just be a bit longer."
"No, like for real. I don't-" he hiccuped, pressing a hand to his lips. "I feel sick." He looked at Isaiah with wide eyes. "I don't want to throw up. It's hurting like a bitch as it is, Zaya, please-"
"Okay, okay, I got you." Isaiah had no idea what he was doing, but the pleading had his ribcage squeezing like he couldn't get in any air. He helped Hector to sit a bit more upright, leaning him against his side, his own arms wrapped around Hector's chest to hold him up. "Take deep breaths. There is fresh air coming from the window and you got nothing to throw up anyway. Just breathe."
"Make it stop," Hector sobbed, pressing his hands against Isaiah's on his chest. "It hurts."
"I know, buddy, I know. Shhhh. I'm right here." Isaiah held him as tight as he dared. Hector's head, now pressed against his neck, radiated heat like a furnace. No wonder he was so whiny.
"You wouldn't have a problem with something like this," Hector whimpered, a shiver running through him. "You would be fine. Even Arnie would be fine, it's just me-"
"Oh, shut it," Isaiah said sternly. "You are plenty resilient. You train day and night, you think I can't see it? It's like you are made of steel. That's not something you get from a shadow or because you are a wolf. And training is basically pain and learning to accept and like pain, and you got that."
"Then tell me how to do it," Hector demanded, swallowing heavily.
"I told you. Sleep, being comfy, movies, distraction-"
"Yeah, sure, cause that's how you do it. With your training and experience-"
"And you think that's an advantage?" Isaiah blurted out. "After all this time? I got pretty nasty things out of that torture crap too, just so you know. I did it so you wouldn't have to and now you are jealous of it? Jesus fucking Christ."
Maybe that was not the right thing to say at such a time, cause Hector was crying now, big fat tears streaming down his face. "Sorry, I'm sorry..." he hiccuped and then gagged.
Isaiah leaned forward along with him, holding his shoulders from behind as Hector heaved emptily over the sheets and the bed, shuddering with the pain, hands at his side.
"Shhhhhh. It's okay. Take deep breaths now. You are alright," Isaiah repeated over and over.
There was truly nothing for Hector to bring up, so Isaiah leaned back again, pulling Hector after him against his chest again. Thumbing the tears on his cheeks away with his hands, Isaiah's insides shook as if he were the one heaving.
"I'm sorry," Hector whimpered after a while with a sniffle. "I'm really sorry."
Isaiah stared at the ceiling tiredly. "I forgive you." He wrapped his hands snuggly around his brother. "Just don't say shit like that again."
They stayed in heavy silence for a while, Isaiah counting Hector's harsh breaths until they came more rhythmically.
"Tell me something that helps you," Hector said quietly. "Something that matters to you. Something real."
"That will help distract you? Really?" Isaiah said dryly. His chest was hurting at the conversation, at seeing Hector this weak and pained, at the issue being brought up at all.
Hector coiled up into a ball against him, which was the weirdest position since he wasn't a small man in the slightest.
"It helps to imagine it like a circle," Isaiah said into the silence. "A circle around where it hurts, like the pain gets trapped there. Like it can't get further and I can chase it out by cutting it off oxygen, attention, blood stream."
Hector made a little noise at the back of his throat, the side of his face pressing into Isaiah's chest. Over his heart.
"It helps not to be alone. I had to be for a long time, but now I don't and...and it helps, I think."
Hector closed his eyes, nodding against him.
"And the last thing...I don't know if it will work for you..."
Hector tensed against him with a little groan of pain.
"I really do like the movies," Isaiah said.
Hector waited in shocked silence at the words before giving a hoarse little chuckle, snuggling closer. "You are such an ass."
"If you don't pick, I will," Isaiah said, a tentative smile playing on his lips.
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A question about Joanna!lookalike reader.
When she leaves for the north because robert wants her to be able to have the freedom to express her self. is it at first just to stay their, or was there disscusstion of marriage with the Stark family before being sent off?
Also i see that jon snow may be intrested in Joanna!lookalike reader👀
Prehaps when request open i might ask for something about that
I like to imagine that not only is Robert’s first thought to get Joanna!Lookalike!Reader out from the suffocating and distressful environment she’s in but that he would also go with her himself to make sure she gets there safe and settles in alright. Not to mention he definitely wants to fill Ned in on everything going on, spilling all the absolute piping hot tea, and you can bet that big man isn’t leaving without at least discussing the idea of some near future betrothing going on.
You can also be assured that when Robert and the Reader take off for the North, it’s late into the evening/early morning as to not have Cersei finding out cause she would surely throw a massive bitch fit. Robert wouldn’t want her to know of any of his plans to have the Joanna!Lookalike!Reader reside in the North for however long she needs to. Not to mention it would only spite her all the more that she have no knowledge of the Reader’s being sent off.
A part of me likes to imagine that Jaime is well aware of these plans, hell he’s probably on watch when Robert and the Reader leave but he keeps his mouth shut cause he knows deep down that Joanna!Lookalike needs this more than ever after the breakdown they had at dinner that one night. Unlike his sister and father, Jaime does see past the Joanna resemblance and acknowledges the Reader as their own person. And their breakdown just opened his eyes even more so to how much of a damaging effect this has had on them this whole time.
I feel like Robert not only wants to marry Joanna!Lookalike!Reader to Robb (or even Jon👀) to have his and Ned’s blood come together but also to give an excuse for the Reader to stay in Wingerfell and not have to come back home if they don’t want to.
You can bet your sweetcheeks that Jon is gonna be interested in Joanna!Lookalike. Especially given that I completely see the Reader just absolutely letting loose. This is the only chance they get to be as free as they’ll ever be and they’re going to take full advantage of it. They want to run wild, they want to get dirty, they want to not have to be perfect, they just want to be content as they are and I think that would really catch Jon’s attention. There will also of course be a sort of ‘friendly’ yandere rivalry between Jon and Robb for the Reader, not only for their attention but eventually for their hand in marriage as well. At least, it’ll start out friendly enough until things get serious.
If the Reader were to choose Jon, I like to think Robert would be a little more lenient about it. He’s definitely going to talk to Ned about legitimizing his bastard if that’s the case but I almost kinda feel like Robert would let it slide if that’s truly what the Joanna!Lookalike!Reader wanted given everything they’ve gone through and had put on them. Hell, he’s the fucking king he could legitimize Jon himself if he so wanted. And don’t tell him otherwise.
Or the Reader may as well happily give up their royal status if it meant they finally could be who they wanted to be with the person they truly wanted to be with. I could see that being the first thing that crosses Joanna!Lookalike’s mind when the idea of marrying Jon comes up. Heck, the Reader may purposely seek Jon out for his bastard status as an excuse to sever those ties with their suffocatingly overbearing family back home.
Gods, could you imagine yan!Jon Snow (especially Book!Jon Snow) finding out his darling was only with him for his bastard status and so they could strip themself of everything that came with the family they were a part of? As much as that would all hurt, I think what would hit him hardest is if his darling didn’t even remotely share the same romantic feelings for his as he did, not a shred of it. Maybe the Reader liked Jon platonically and saw him as a safer option to some degree. I could definitely see him guilt tripping/manipulating them into being intimate with him. Even if it’s holding his hand or kissing him on the lips. But those small acts would only last him so long, he’s starved after all and he wants nothing more than to feel all of the Reader’s love they have to give. Mentally, emotionally, and physically.
#anxious answers#yandere jon snow#yandere house lannister#yandere cersei lannister#yandere tywin lannister#yandere jaime lannister#yandere game of thrones#yandere game of thrones concept#yandere concept
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Ok this Makuta profile is going to be a bit different than the past ones, there's only one today, but for good reason
I didn't just want to fill up the Brotherhood's ranks with random oc ideas, so I searched around for some tertiary stuff that I could incorporate. There wasn't that much that was workable, but I found a few things. Obviously one of the places I looked was g2, because if Transformers can take characters invented in later incarnations and reincorporate them back into their g1, why can't Bionicle do the same?
Unfortunately Bionicle g2's storytelling and short lifespan means there's not much to work with, but I made do, and now let's look at the story of Makuta Kulta.
Kulta was for certain one of the more middling members of the Brotherhood, certainly not at the bottom of the barrel like Spiriah, but there was no chance he'd ever be in Miserix or later Teridax's personal circle. Kulta knew this fact and absolutely hated it, and thusly sought ways to greatly increase his own power. Eventually, he seemed to have found it.
Okoto was a rather remote island in the Matoran Universe, mountainous with a healthy diversity of biomes and a steady population of Matoran. Okoto did have one particularly interesting feature, either due to some technical glitch in the GSR's mechanics or deliberately designed so by the Great Beings in service of some esoteric experiment, the island was supercharged with elemental energy, from the landscape, to the rahi, and even the inhabitants. It was this feature that caught Kulta's eye when he learned of it. An island positively overflowing with energy? Well he just had to see that.
Since the island was quite remote, Kulta was able to set up shop and begun looking into this phenomenon without much fuss. The results spoke for themselves and Kulta became far stronger than he'd been before. He then began to crave even more power and came up with various ways to try and achieve it. This included using his Tryna in conjunction with this energy boost to create an army of undead warriors, hiring out the Dark Hunter Umarak to hunt and capture some of the island's more elementally-supercharged rahi so he could study them and apply their particular manners of power absorption to himself, and even coming up with the concept of a "Mask of Ultimate Power", a Kanohi that could wield multiple elemental powers at once. Kulta, however, was not a skilled mask maker, and had to forcefully conscript the Okoto Matoran Ekimu, a skilled mask maker and unbeknownst to all and even themselves an Av-Matoran that the OOMN had mind wiped and spirited away, to make it.
Worried that some Matoran might get away and tell the greater universe about what he was doing, Kulta created dangerous rahi to terrorize the population and keep them from leaving. He wasn't very good at naming them though, content with just calling them skull spiders and "beasts". The Matoran got fed up with this and, unable to call upon Toa to help them, sent their strongest and most skilled to try and stop Kulta. Narmoto, Korgot, Vizuna, Nilkuu, Kivoda, and Izotor accepted the task and went underway. While on their journey though, they came across a fissure of elemental energy that struck and supercharged them, transforming the Matoran protectors into a Toa team, the Toa Okoto.
The Toa Okoto fought off the skull spiders and their "lord", tussled with the Umarak and freed his captives, came to blows with the elemental beasts, and destroyed Kulta's undead army, allowing those restless souls to finally sleep. However, when they finally made it to Kulta's inner sanctum, they were too late. The Mask of Ultimate Power had been finished and Kulta had put it on, granting him even greater power and transforming his body into a massive titanic form. Joined by Ekimu, the Toa engaged in a fierce battle with Kulta, who beat them down with ease. Just when it looked like all hope was lost however, Kulta seized up. As it turns out, a mask with that many different elemental energies running through it isn't exactly stable. The mask shattered, and the resulting energy blast knocked the Toa and Ekimu back, and caused Kulta to explode, setting his Antidermis on fire and killing him. The Toa were victorious, Umarak fled back to the Shadowed One, and any straggling threats were defeated, ushering Okoto into a new golden age.
When word eventually got out of what happened on Okoto, the Brotherhood, as this was long before their deception was known to the larger universe, denied all knowledge of what Kulta had done and disavowed him, claiming the Makuta had been a renegade. The lie was quite easy to sell, as it was partly true, Kulta had kept all of his going ons a secret to the rest of the Brotherhood. In private, Teridax was quite glad Kulta had gotten himself killed, as when he thought over things like a vast undead army and a "Mask of Ultimate Power", only one word came to mind: Treason
#bionicle#I'm gonna tag this as#Makuta ocs#even though it technically doesn't apply in this case#but it is still part of that series of posts#yeah this is long#I figured most of this out while taking a shower that's why it rambles
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Glitter
💚🍎💚🍎💚🍎💚🍎💚🍎💚🍎
@idontknowreallywhy was kind enough last week to encourage me to write something. Then @gumnut-logic posted some fluffwhump prompts and, well, this happened.
Massive thanks to Nutty for letting me borrow Alex and for the readthrough. If you've no idea who Alex is you can find his entire story here and it's brilliant.
The whole series is a m/m romance so if that's not your thing it's best not to read. Otherwise I hope you enjoy reading my first go at writing a fic in a very, very long time.
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Alex waited for the coffee machine in his mum’s kitchen, happily daydreaming.
He’d been looking after his niece and nephew whilst his mum and sister went on a spa day. He’d agreed to it months ago, but he’d been gutted when it fell on one of Virgil’s rare days off rota.
Virgil solved the problem by coming along with him. He had drawn endless pictures of whatever James and Vicky wanted, whilst they painted and covered the pictures in various craft materials and stickers. The pile of art had been sent home when their dad had come to pick them up, and now Virgil was tidying up the mess whilst Alex made the coffee.
The coffee machine stopped, signaling the not quite Thunderbird Two but still very good coffee was ready.
“Aaaaaaaalex?” Virgil’s voice came through from the next room, sounding rather higher than usual.
“Viiiiiiiiiiirgil?”
“Erm, I need some help.”
Alex walked back through to the room he’d left Virgil in to be met with the sight of green glitter. Getting the large plastic tub of green glitter back on the high shelf clearly hadn’t gone to plan, and now it was all over the floor, the coffee table and the sofa, but most of all it was all over Virgil. He looked hilarious. His clothes and boots were absolutely covered, and his hair was now more sparkly green than black. Virgil was trying his best to brush it off, but the more he brushed the more glitter seemed to appear.
Alex’s urge to laugh won.
That earned him a full frown from the eyebrows. Unfortunately, said eyebrows were currently green and glittery too, so the effect probably wasn’t quite what Virgil intended.
“I’m sorry.” Alex made his way over to Virgil, getting the glitter on his own shoes in the process and desperately trying to hold in the smirk. “Just it’s usually me who ends up in dropping things.”
Alex brushed some glitter off Virgil’s shoulders, and the laughing erupted again.
Virgil stopped brushing himself, got out his phone and had a look at himself in the selfie camera. A sigh, then a smile and a gaze up at Alex. “Ok you do have a point. But I can’t leave the house looking like this.”
“It’s fine. It’s green. It’ll go with your uniform. Imagine being rescued by somebody who actually sparkled!”
Alex found himself being picked up and slung over Virgil’s shoulders as if he weighed nothing at all, carried over to a chair on the other side of the room and placed feet first on it. Virgil then stood back and grinned, still holding Alex’s hands. “Like that?”
“Mmm hmm.”
Virgil moved his hands to Alex’s waist and lifted him down, again seemingly without any effort. Alex straightened up and ran a hand through Virgil’s hair, trying to do something useful since he could see the glitter in Virgil’s hair better. Nothing moved. At all.
Alex tried again. It was stuck solidly to Virgil’s hair gel. “I think you need a shower.”
Another sigh, then a defeated sounding “Good idea”.
______________________________
Alex was enjoying a new cup of coffee on the sofa when Virgil appeared from his shower, smiling at Alex with an embarrassed smile. His clothes and boots were still a little shiny but nothing like what they were before, and his black hair had formed into the soft curls that were usually blow dried and gelled 5 seconds after getting out the shower.
As Virgil sat down on the sofa beside him, Alex pulled him in for a kiss and his brain dissolved for a while. When they stopped, the light caught Virgil’s face and Alex reached up a thumb and stroked one of Virgil’s eyebrows. “There was still some glitter.”
Virgil’s wonderful arms were wrapped round him, and to Alex’s surprise he just shrugged, smiled and said “I’ve got used to you doing that now.” Those arms pulled him closer again. “And it’s amazing.”
Alex was reminded that his whole life felt like every dream he’d ever had had come true. “You are amazing.”
“Even with fluffy hair and sparkly eyebrows?”
“Especially with fluffy hair and sparkly eyebrows.”
#thunderbirds are go#thunderfluff#thunderbirds fanfiction#virgil tracy/alexander sweetapple#virgil tracy#alexander sweetapple#there is glitter everywhere#a fanfic of nuttyfic#sailingonapuddle fanfic
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A big hammy fist pounded against a faded gold-shod star slicked in far more yellows than normal, the doughy hand thwump against a meaty chest. “ BBWWEEEERRLLCH ” , Carol craned her jaw, a triumphant roar escaped the blondes messed lips, squish of her bloated neck as each putrid second was displayed. Squelch burger slop ran down her form, the painfully blue hoodie getting her iconic colors of streaks of ketchup, and splotches of mustard. A husky huff and the marvel leaned back into her booth seat, ever determined to eat her latest foe, The Captain marvel burger.
Jessica grinned as she watched Carol tackling her current foe, her burger that was made in her image and given her title. A greasy, six tier mountain of meat with huge thick buns layers inside, resembling a very messy cake rather than a burger.
"You hanging in *Mrrrf* alright there, Carol love? You're not *BWOOOORP* gonna let that burger beat you, *FRRRRRRRRRRRRRPTPTPTPT* are ya?" Her words came from grease covered lips, with all sorts of sauces and grease coating her chins and cheeks just as her date's were. Her suit was stained with months of food and sweat marks, she didn't bother changing out of it. She wore it pulled half down, with her torso covered by her favourite, far too small dark denim jacket, also stained beyond achieving full cleanliness ever again. They were the only two in the diner besides a few brave staff. The others all knew that this place would be inhospitable shortly, with two of the fattest and gassiest heroes in there.
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schoolkid V2 (i think she'd be the thug type)
no-table, no-bubble, no-both versions, as well as some closeups under the cut! (cw: visible underwear (im so sorry about this))
variants:
closeups:
#yeah its for my own stupid school au#they go to another school than V1 cause i think they'd get bad grades (on purpose) and be really thug-ish#also because when they did go to the same school as V1 they just kept fighting like. always#they would see eachother in the hallway or courtyard and they'd literally have to be restrained by other students and teachers#cause V2 would taunt V1 to a fight constantly (also part of the reason they're the one who transferred)#they just hate eachother a lot (especialy V2)#they'd also be like. the kind to start fights really easily with absolutely everyone (despite them being concieved as a peace keeper)#and to not follow the dress code properly#(hence the slit idea which doubles as an aid for added mobility (aka crouch sliding))#probably swears a lot too (given i imagine they have a fairly advanced voicebox)#and they get bad grades cause they can't be assed to study but are actually really really smart and could go to a top uni/college v easily#gets sent to the supervisor's office or to detention on a regular basis#and has often been threatened with the ���we're gonna have to expel you if you keep this attitude young machine”#they're also like. a grade behind V1. little sibling.#ghhgghghghghh im so sorry about the visible underwear tho#i just wanted them to have a huge slit in their skirt for mobility reasons as well as to show their more “thug”ish attitude#but then i realized that the way they'd be sitting would show her undies#please understand there was no underlying intent#im sorry. im so sorry#ultrakill#v2 ultrakill#school au#high school au#fanart#my art#should i have made an actual post for these ideas for this au? yes#will i actually do one? probably. idk#i enjoy imagining this stuff as a person who wasn't able to attend normal high school#this is literal wish fulfilment. you look in the dictionary and you see this under the definition (its not a single word but you get wim)#so much stuff in these tags. so much. soooo much. im so sorry
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in terror, four lieutenants; in t3m, four musketeers. Conclusion?
conclusion - same as always: destiny.
but wait oh christ okay. they even kinda fit...
you've got the og trio of
Wet Pathetic Loser
Deeply Religious Guy
Fancy Lad
which ig would make dundy... d'artagnan?? no. no oh god ok. listen. d'artagnan is jopson im afraid:
1. has a deeply homoerotic father/son relationship with a suicidal alcoholic
2. is actually kinda obsessed with him tbh
3. doesn't really start out as One Of Them, has to wait quite some time to get promoted
4. big part of the fandom actually ships him with little aka our athos
it makes sense you gotta believe me it does it does
#it absolutely doesn't#idk who dundy could be tbh...#ig if you squinted reeeeeally hard you could make him into a quasi mordaunt#since little is our athos equivalent#(that should honestly be crozier but for the sake of making our three musketeers/three lieutenants parallel lets go with little)#and the way little and dundy end up... look dundy is the only surviving officer of erebus.#gore and fitzjames die because life sucks but fairholme's death is arguably crozier's fault#and since in this strange parallel world athos is apparently split into crozier and little...#and since a very popular fandom headcanon is that little is the one to ultimately kill dundy....#i have no idea where im going with this and with all my love to irving#imagining him as an aramis equivalent made me throw up in my mouth a little.#i guess aramis would have to be an insane combination of irving and hickey?? so ig he should kill uhh himself? shit omg wait#he does have a SA in the books.....#oh yeah it's all coming together#(<-lies. this makes no fucking sense)#pizza you've sent my mind into a spiral of eternal damnation im grasping at straws to make some ✨parallels✨#unfortunately im like a vampire in this case.#if you throw at me a bunch of potential parallels i cannot move a muscle until ive found counted and picked them all up#i hate it here#im not even tagging it this post is fucking shameful pathetic and desperate#and yeah hodgson is porthos im afraid deal with that#ask
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people are so shocked when they learn about the absolute depravity of the world thats right in front of them. not that its Good to be desensitized to horrific shit but like i am not surprised. every new bad news thing that comes out i am not surprised. yes, they will ignore death. they will let you die without a second thought. i'm sorry you are only just now learning this.
#like yes things are horrible right now and i get it#but ive seen two posts that are like how can people ignore this!!!!!#thats all the gov does. ignore shit and make problems worse#they do not fucking care who dies. UNLESS your death brings them money. then they actively encourage it.#like. did you know we did in fact have “the tools” to stop covid from becoming a pandemic?#did you know that we could have ended the pandemic fairly quickly too?#we didn't use them. they sent everyone “back to normal” so you can all die for capitalism.#unless you have kept up REALLY WELL chances are you have no fucking idea how high the covid death toll is. its higher than what's reported#the public has been being fed to the fucking wolves for years now. before covid too but for the entire pandemic especially#we have been left behind!!!! im sorry you only see that now and its a harsh reality to wake up to#like absolutely continue to call your senators and reps and whatever. like thats still a completely viable option#continue to educate yourself and talk about issues and keep it in discussion#but like. idk. its heartbreaking i get it.#especially to see people incredulously cry and wonder “how could our leaders see this suffering and ignore it?”#people have been left to “fall to the wayside” for years now and its just that now you see it#i understand the betrayal of “i thought those in office were there to PROTECT us and i thought they cared!”#anyway. idk i don't want to say things are futile . like keep trying cause thats all we Can do
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♡ megbias highlight reel — heart boys, if you will .
for meg @slowrabbitpd , happy birthday . ♡
#caleb.gif#i could tag all these guys but honestly this is For meg <3 :') its rly not fandom related its just going to be posted on tumblr dot com#( if anyones curious tho: changkyun + yeonjun + kang daniel / kihyun + junhyeok + taehyun / seungyeop + steve + romin )#meg!! happy birthday bestie 💕#really i hope you have an absolutely wonderful day ahead of you and are able to enjoy it w/ your People whoever they may be#and that you get to treat yourself to something fun <3 and have a wonderful meal 💖#spiritually i am making you egg on rice right now.. or go out for kbbq or w/e u kno..#truly its been an absolute pleasure to have met you and become friends outside just being mutuals on tumblr#youre such a fun and warm and funny person whos just . smart as a whip and have a killer sense of design and general eye#ur an absolute joy to talk to nd i cherish all the roller coasters we've been on together since last year .. theres no one else id rather -#be SO so normal with <3 u just Get it. and i appreciate that more than i could put into words. i love all our shared megrook bias boys +#biases in law? is that what we can call it. anyways. megbiases are treasured <3 so i wanted to include them in a little something#all for you <3 including some very special sky pics !! bc u sent them to me a while ago and i treasured them!! so. have some megbias boys#peeking into ur photos. thats the concept yup fkgjkjdgf idk i just had an idea of sort of .. flipping thru photos here.#anyways. love u bestie! very much. sending u big warm hugs#we are the [deep breath]#taejunist high school yearbook editor freshman orientation leader magic and hiyyih defense squadists kep1er detectives#the boyz gatekeepers woojinist dailytaehyun and soobinsource admin team •_• (witnesses of the horrors) + peer review service#^ that gets longer EVERY time. lmfao 💕#ill shut up now but <3 just thank u for being here and being u. i admire u and cherish our friendship + thank u for ur endless patience#bc ik the last few months i was sorta awol but u never once made me feel bad for it and its that sort of level of Comfortable that means -#the world to me<3 so im glad i have tht w/ u <3#MWAH ok [posts]
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i’ve officially gotten popular enough i am receiving threats. i really feel like i’ve made it in life. this is all i’ve ever wanted 😌
#i want every anon who has sent me something mean in my asks to be put in a locked room with me.#i would absolutely love to see how these people react to me irl. if you think i’m insufferable on here? oh boy you have no idea what i’m#like in person.#i don’t doubt that all of you would try to kill me if you met me irl and that fact brings me more joy than you could ever know 😌#tyler just says whatever they’re thinking part ?
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I’m sure someone has talked about this before but one thing I absolutely love about tbosas is how Snow’s descent into villainy is never once presented as something that was inevitable
So many villain origin stories portray this idea of a person who tries incredibly hard to be a good person, who takes every opportunity to be kind and to better themselves, but are ultimately doomed to fail by the narrative. Their environment and their circumstances make it impossible for them to be a good person, and while this is effective from a storytelling point of view it’s not exactly accurate to real life
In real life there is always a point where a bad person makes the decision to do something bad, they make the decision to prioritise themselves, their own power, money or desires over someone else. That’s how real life dictators are made, they are presented with every opportunity to be good, and they purposefully choose to not take it
This makes Snow’s storyline so effective because he is given so many opportunities to do the right thing and yet, at every single turn, he chooses to serve himself instead, exactly like how real dictators are made
Snow, unlike most people we see in the capitol, is in a unique position where he could genuinely have the chance to understand and relate to the people from the districts. He, unlike his classmates, is poor and spends most nights going hungry, he witnessed firsthand the cruelty of the capitol when Clemensia was bitten by the snakes for nothing more than lying about doing her homework, when his sister was forced to sell herself on the streets in order to feed the both of them
Throughout his book, the three people he is closest to are Tigris (who dislikes the hunger games, is a rebel, and a victim of the capitol forced to turn to prostitution), Sejanus (who is originally from district 2, dislikes the capitol and knows he will never be accepted there, and also a rebel) and Lucy Gray (who is a victim of the hunger games, from district 12, and is also treated horribly by the capitol). These are all people who gave him an opportunity to realise the cruelty of the system he was in, a chance to directly confront his prejudices and see that people from the districts are just the same as him, and yet he still refuses to take the chance to change
He is given every opportunity, he’s sent away from the capitol to be a peacekeeper in the districts, he forms personal connections with people from the districts, he helps Sejanus perform funeral rites, and yet at every moral crossroads he comes to he makes the wrong decision. He didn’t have to become a villain, and yet he made the choice to do so anyway, despite every chance he was given
I think it’s a really effective portrayal of Snow as a character, and it’s a very effective villain origin story for the type of villain that Snow is. It never once excuses him from his actions because it highlights just how accountable he was for his actions
#the hunger games#the ballad of songbirds and snakes#coriolanus snow#lucy gray baird#sejanus plinth#tigris snow#tbosas#thg#katniss everdeen#peeta mellark
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Duolingo is NOT what it used to be.
“Duolingo is ‘sunsetting the development of the Welsh course’ (and many others)”.
I’ve used Duolingo since 2013. It used to be about genuinely learning languages and preserving endangered ones. It used to have a vibrant community and forum where users were listened to. It used to have volunteers that dedicated countless hours and even years to making the best courses they could while also trying to explain extremely nuanced and complex grammar in simple terms.
In the past two years it feels like Von Ahn let the money talk instead of focusing on the original goal.
No one truly had a humongous problem with the subscription tier for SuperDuolingo. We understood it: if you can afford to pay, help keep Duolingo free for those who couldn’t.
It started when the company went public. Volunteers were leaving courses they created because they warned of differing longterm goals compared to Duolingo’s as a company; not long after it was announced that the incubator (how volunteers were able to make courses in the first place) would be shut down. A year goes by and the forums—the voice of the users and the way people were able to share tips and explanations—is discontinued. A year or two later, Duolingo gets a completely new makeover—the Tree is gone and you don’t control what lesson you start with. With the disappearance of the Tree, all grammar notes and explanations for courses not in the Big 8 (consisting of the courses made before the incubator like Spanish/French/German/etc. and of the most popular courses like Japanese/Korean/Chinese/etc.) are removed with it. Were you learning Vietnamese and have no idea how honorifics work without the grammar notes? Shit outta luck bud. Were you learning Polish and have absolutely no clue how one of the declensions newly thrown at you functions? Suck it up. In a Reddit AMA, Von Ahn claims that the new design resulted in more users utilizing the app/site. How he claims that statistic? By counting how many people log into their Duolingo account, as if an entire app renovation wouldn’t cause an uptick in numbers to even see what the fuck just happened to the courses.
Von Ahn announces next in a Reddit AMA that no more language courses will be added from what there already is available. His reasoning? No one uses the unpopular language courses — along with how Duolingo will now be doing upkeep with the courses already in place. And here I am, currently looking on the Duolingo website how there are 1.8 million active learners for Irish, 284 thousand active learners for Navajo, and even 934 thousand active learners for fucking High Valyrian. But yea, no one uses them. Not like the entire Navajo Nation population is 399k members or anything, or like 1.8 million people isn’t 36% of the entire population of Ireland or anything.
And now this. What happened to the upkeep of current courses? Oh, Von Ahn only meant the popular ones that already have infinite resources. Got it. Duolingo used to be a serious foundational resource for languages with little resources while also adding the relief of gamification.
It pisses me off. It really does. This was not what Duolingo started out as. And yea, maybe I shouldn’t get invested in a dingy little app. But as someone who spent most of her adolescence immersed in language learning to the point where it was literally keeping me alive at one point, to the point where languages felt like my only friend as a tween, and to the point where friendships on the Duolingo forums with likeminded individuals my age and other enthusiasts who even sent me books in other languages for free because they wanted people to learn it, the evolution of Duolingo hits a bitter nerve within me.
~End rant.
#duolingo#langblr#huge language rant feel free to skip#evolution of duolingo#luis von ahn#duolingo welsh course#language learning
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tell my we i just got a strangely pro-ai blog on my dash-
#the post itself wasn’t pro-ai but i checked their blog and jesus christ#im sorry but typing words into a prompt box does not make u a writer/artist#by that logic if i had actually written that zukka prompt my dear mutual gave me he would actually have been the writer not me#bcz he sent the idea in my dms#which uhhh no the pnly thing u get from writing a prompt for someone/something is being the idea maker#u might get credited in the notes of the fic as the inspiration or smthn but ur not the cowriter#and yes copywriter laws are flawed and hurt fic writers but the concept of them in general yk is kinda necessary#considering what used to happen before them (yk blatant content theft of wild precautions weren’t taken)#like i’m not an expert in copyright but having it absolutely makes sense#there’s a difference between someone seeing ur work and being inspired to write smthn abt it#and actually taking parts of it and claiming it as ur own#especially considering it takes NO WORK TO “MAKE” AI STUFF#like again i’m sorry but it rlly isn’t ur art if u just type into a prompt box for it#and sure ppl LOVE to bring up disabled ppl to claim that it’s “helping us” but stfu#as a disabled person who’s disabilities make it hard to draw/write sometimes shut up and stop using us as an excuse to steal content#i could open up chat gpt or whatever and type in prompts all day and put out a hundred fics every week if i wanted to#but they wouldn’t be mine#u can call urself a creative if u don’t actually do the creative process#like is it hard? yeah but that’s part of writing/art for everyone#it’s hard and practicing WILL make u better at it even if ur disabled#there are tools out there to help u make ur own art/stories that don’t require theft#and yeah it can be frustrating when u can’t write/draw bcz ur brain/body says lol no :) but the solution to that has never been “get#something else to write it for me and then claim it’s my own :)” or whatever#look if u wanna use ai to get a reference pose or smthn go for it#no stealing there and references can be hard to find#but if ur just typing a couple sentences into a prompt box ur not an artist and that isnt ur art#and if its a bot thats been fed nonconsenting artists’ work to spit out then yeahh its stealing i’m sorry#and stop using disabled ppl as an excuse for lazy content theft bcz i know 90% of u r abled or at best have a disability that doesn’t affec#ur ability to create art in the slightest#idk kinda went on a rant here lol
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shut up kiss me.
pairing: theodore nott x reader
song inspiration: shut up kiss me by angel olsen.
author's note: everyone say thank you to my love @writingsbychlo for fueling my delusions. constantly spamming her with my ideas because i have no self control when it comes to this man. there’s just something about theo fighting that makes me absolutely feral but i’ll hush now before i spoil it 🤭
Theodore. Fucking. Nott.
Those three words fueled your rampage as you marched across the quidditch pitch. The audacity of that cocky, arrogant, silver tongued Slytherin knew no bounds. For years, you tolerated the pompous prick and the rivalry between you, but today he had finally gone too far.
You cleared the field in less than a minute, passing by confused players as you angrily seethed. You spotted a shock of familiar platinum blonde hair and walked right up to Draco Malfoy.
“Where the hell is he?”
He chuckled, perfectly aware of your longstanding enmity with his closest friend. “What’s he done this time?”
“Where. Is. He?” you repeated through gritted teeth. “Don’t make me ask again, Malfoy.”
The blonde paled several shades when he saw the fire burning in your gaze. “Locker rooms. I wouldn’t go in there, Y/N. They’re still shower—“ Draco sighed as you brushed past him. “Whatever, it’s your funeral.”
The locker rooms were steamy, the heat and humidity clinging to your school uniform as you stalked through the aisles. The Slytherin players startled when they spotted you amongst their midst.
“Well, well, well,” Mattheo drawled as he leaned against the wall. A towel hung dangerously low on his hips and he smirked when your eyes flickered over his body. “What do we have here? A sweet little Hufflepuff marching straight into the viper’s den.”
“Where the fuck is he, Riddle?”
Mattheo grinned lazily. “You’re going to have to be more specific than that, sweetheart.”
“You know exactly who I’m talking about. Your arrogant prick of a friend who sent my fucking date to the hospital wing!”
Before you went to sleep last night, you had done so with a grin on your face after a wonderful date with Alec Stone at the Three Broomsticks, but then you arrived at breakfast this morning with no Alec in sight and the rumor mill rampant with talks of Theo pummeling some poor Ravenclaw in the courtyard.
You were going to kill him.
“Sorry, love. Doesn’t ring a bell.”
You frowned, purposely bumping against Mattheo as you walked further down the dimly lit aisle. In your trail for vengeance, you ran into a very flustered looking Enzo who yelped as he sought to cover his very naked torso.
“Y/N,” Enzo said, hastily wrapping a towel around his waist. “What are you doing in the locker rooms?”
Behind him, the sound of the shower running echoed against the marble tiles. “Is he in there?”
Berkshire’s face fell. “You heard about the fight?”
“It wasn’t a fight,” you said angrily. “He pummeled Alec so badly that he’s currently in the hospital wing with a concussion and several broken bones.”
“Just hear him out, okay?”
Your eyes nearly bugged out of your head. “Hear him out? Your precious Theodore beat the absolute shit out of my date and you want me to hear him out? For what? What reason could Theo possibly have for doing what he did to Alec? He couldn’t stand to see me have fun for two fucking seconds? This is low even for him and you know it, Enzo.”
“You don’t know the whole story, Y/N.”
“Well then please point me in the right direction so I can hear from the arsehole himself.”
“He’s in there,” Enzo said, pointing to the shower stalls. “But I’m warning you, Y/N. He’s in a proper foul mood.”
You huffed. “That makes two of us.”
The steam from the showers rose up like a malevolent fog, curling around your feet as you stormed through the stalls. You found him in the farthest corner, water trickling down his back as he faced the tiled wall. His body language was tense, like a serpent preparing to strike. A crimson trail swirled against the marble as blood dripped from Theo’s bruised knuckles. The sight of it incensed you.
“What the hell is wrong with you?”
Theo whipped his head towards your direction, his dark curls plastered against his cheek. Those watercolor eyes were stormy, the blues and greens flickering with anger as he met your gaze.
“You shouldn’t be here,” he said dismissively.
“Bullshit!” You countered, stepping further into the stall. The steam barely covered Theo’s naked form, but you weren’t about to let that deter you from demanding answers. “You owe me a fucking explanation.”
“For what?”
“For what?” you repeated incredulously. “You beat Alec within an inch of his life and that’s all you have to say for yourself? Honestly Theodore, have you gone absolutely mental?”
“He deserved it.”
“Why? Because he took me out on a date? Because you couldn’t stand to let me have this one thing? You absolutely loathe the idea of me being even remotely happy, don’t you?”
Theo clenched his fists as his jaw twitched in anger. “No. I loathe the idea of that miserable excuse of a human being breathing the same air as you.”
“So you beat him to a bloody pulp?”
His voice was cold and icy, cutting through you like glass. “He’s lucky I didn’t do worse.”
“What do you have against Alec?” You moved closer to Theo, closing the gap as you poked his chest. The shower streamed over the both of you, blurring your vision. The water was hot against your skin, but it paled against the heat of your own anger. “What did he ever do to you, Theo?”
Theo gripped your wrist. You were vaguely aware of his nakedness, but he made no move to hide it and you were too furious to even care. “Don’t say his name. I can’t bear to hear you say it after what he said about you this morning.”
You stepped backward, flinching. “What—what are you talking about?”
When you met his gaze, you startled. You’d never seen Theo this angry before. His eyes, which were usually dead and expressionless, burned with a cold sort of fury.
“I heard him in the courtyard, bragging to his stupid friends. I thought he was just chatting shit, so I kept back. I only came down for a smoke, but then he said your name.”
The pit in your stomach grew. “What did he say?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. You weren’t sure you wanted to know. Not if he was this angry over it.
“The stupid fucking prick was talking about your date. The dress you wore. The smiles you gave him. The hand holding through Hogsmeade. Then one of his gormless mates asked if he got lucky.”
You froze at his words as a horrible feeling washed over you. Theo loosened his grip on your wrist, but didn’t let go.
“Do you know what that sodding idiot said? I will, soon enough. I can tell she’s raring to go.”
Tears pricked at your eyes. You felt like you were going to be violently sick.
“And his friends—those miserable fucking wankers started betting on how long it would take. Two dates. Three. A month.” Theo’s hands were shaking, violence spilling over into his veins. “That smug tosser smirked and said he could’ve had you out in the hallway. That’s how eager you were.”
“I barely even touched him!” you said angrily. “I kissed his cheek good night and that was it.”
“I know,” Theo said, his voice low and rough. “I know you. I knew he was lying, so I fucking lost it. I walked over there and just punched and punched until my knuckles were bloody and bruised and all I could see was red. I wanted to wipe that stupid fucking smirk off his mouth.”
You could picture Theo putting out his cigarette ever so calmly before walking over to throw the first punch. You’d seen him fight before. He was relentless. Where Mattheo was pure fire and rage, Theo was as cold as ice. There was nothing but lethal calm in those dead eyes as he delivered blow after blow in absolute silence.
“Eventually, Blaise and Enzo pulled me off of that prick.” He averted his gaze as if remembering the moment. “When his idiot friends finally peeled him off the floor, I spit on the fucker. I told him to consider it a warning. That I’d do a lot worse if I ever heard your name come out of his mouth again. I promised him that a concussion would be the least of his worries if he didn’t stay the fuck away from you.”
The tears fell down your cheeks despite your efforts to keep them in. The anger all but faded from Theo’s eyes as soon as he realized that you were crying. You were so, so stupid. For thinking Alec was a nice guy. For being so giddy after your date only for him to turn around and spit vile lies about you.
For crying in front of your worst enemy.
The color drained from Theo’s face as you cried into your hands. You felt him shift beside you, debating whether or not to come closer.
“Don’t,” you said through a broken sob. “Don’t come near me.”
Theo flinched at your words, looking visibly pained. His voice was soft and soothing when he spoke again. “Tell me how to fix it. Do you want to yell at me? Punch me? Go ahead, love. I can take it.” He sounded desperate. “Just please, please don’t cry.”
You hugged your arms around your waist and glared at him. “Why do you even care?”
He paused, fingers flexing at his side as he fought the urge to reach out and comfort you.
“Because I care about you!” The exasperation in his voice made your chest tighten. “I care that you let that stupid idiot take you on a date to the Three Broomsticks. I care that you fucking smiled at him when he gave you roses even though I know you prefer sunflowers. I care that you kissed him on the cheek when he dropped you off at your dorm.”
You sniffled, utterly perplexed at his words. “I don’t understand. We hate each other!”
Theo visibly softened, the tension leaving his body. “I could never hate you, Y/N.” He reached for your hand. Your first instinct was to pull away, but you let him trace soothing circles on your skin. “I may tease you. Prank you. Annoy you. But I’ve never hated you.”
Theo wiped the dried up tears from your cheeks. No fresh tears, which he took as a good sign. “I don’t even think you remember this, but I tried asking you to the Yule Ball in fourth year.”
The memory surfaced. You were reading by the Black Lake and Theo had asked if you had a date. You said no, to which he promptly asked if he could take you. You left in a huff, thinking that it was just another way to rile you up.
“I thought you were just trying to get a rise out of me. If I would’ve known…”
Theo paused. “How could you not know? How could you not see?”
The rage crashed against you like an errant wave. You didn’t know if you were angry at Theo or yourself, but you exploded either way, unable to keep your emotions under control.
“Because you never told me, you idiot!”
“I never told you, but I showed you.” He smiled crookedly. “I'm not good with words, obviously. Every time I open my mouth it’s like I say the perfect combination of words to piss you off. So I learned to tell you how I felt through my actions.”
“Haven’t you ever wondered why your favorite study spot in the library is always free? That’s because I threatened anyone who came near it. Or how you never seem to run out of quills despite the fact that you manage to break one every day from how hard you write? I always replaced them when you weren’t looking.” Your heart clenched at his words. “I even bribed first years to bring you hot chocolate when I knew you were pulling all nighters.”
You stood there, staring at him. This wasn’t the cocky, arrogant Theo that you knew. He was looking at you so earnestly that it physically hurt how endearing it all was.
“Why would you let me think that you were an inconsiderate jerk this whole time?”
Those hypnotizing eyes pierced right through you, filled with a sadness so heavy that you felt it weighing on your chest.
“Because at least you were thinking of me.”
You swayed gently. The water had long seeped into your bones, making you shiver as all of your clothes stuck to your skin like paper. You were convinced that your body had gone into shock. The range of emotions you were currently experiencing was turbulent to say the least. You stood in stunned silence, just taking it all in. Then the impact of his words hit you all at once.
Theo watched as your bottom lip trembled. Panic seized him as you began crying again, this time not bothering to hide it from him. “Fuck I’m sorry, Y/N. Please don’t cry.”
He didn’t know what to do. Should he comfort you? Should he keep his distance? Theo felt like he was doing a rather exceptional job of mucking things up.
“Why are you saying sorry?” You said between hiccups. “I’m the one who should be apologizing.”
Theo caressed your cheek. So gently. Like he half-expected you to recoil. That only set a fresh wave of tears to spill onto your cheeks.
“You have nothing to apologize for, love.”
“Of course I do!” you nearly wailed. “I’ve been horrible to you. I’ve thought the worst of you, but all this time you were doing all these sweet, considerate things and I never even noticed. You should’ve told me, Theo.”
“I—I didn’t think you’d ever see me that way,” Theo said softly. “It was better to have you hate me and still be part of my life than risking not having you in it at all.”
Because at least you were thinking of me.
It was the saddest thing that you’ve ever heard. For years, Theo settled for being your enemy because he’d rather have your hatred and loathing than indifference. He sustained himself on the bare minimum because he thought that was all he deserved.
“I’m sorry, Theo. I’m so so fucking sorry.”
Theo was absolutely distressed. “Fuck, look Y/N. Let me just finish up here and get my towel and when I’m dry and slightly less naked then we can talk, okay?”
You sniffled, wiping your tears away. There was no way you could wait. Not after everything Theo had just told you. Not after everything that he’s been telling you all these years. Theo had literally and figuratively laid himself bare before you. The least you could do was to even the playing field.
So you unlaced the gold and black tie around your neck. Unbuttoned your blouse and threw it somewhere behind you. Stepped out of your skirt and stared at Theo head on.
“Oh—Merlin’s beard, what in the hell are you doing, Y/N? Are you trying to send me into cardiac arrest?”
You shook your head, smiling slightly. Theo was determined to look everywhere but at your very exposed body. You were still in your bra and panties, but the black lace really didn’t leave much to the imagination. Especially when the water clung to every inch of your skin.
“You were vulnerable with me,” you said simply. “So I’m returning the favor.”
Theo felt like he was definitely headed for an early grave. He tried to think of something—anything—other than the girl he’s been head over heels for since third year standing naked in front of him.
“Theo,” you said softly. His name had never sounded half as good coming out of anyone else’s mouth. He wanted to bottle the sound. “Can I—can I hug you?”
He could’ve sworn that his heart had stopped beating. The air had all but left his lungs, deflating his entire body as though he’d fallen off his broom and plummeted through the sky at breakneck speed.
Theo didn’t recognize his own voice as he said, “Of course you can, Y/N.”
The words were barely out of his mouth before you dashed into his arms, nearly toppling him over from the force of it. You were a tiny little thing, but you were stronger than you looked. He smiled as you wrapped your arms around his neck, standing on your tiptoes as you hugged him. For a minute you and Theo just stood there under the trickling water, holding each other as though you were the only two people alive.
If this was all the affection you were willing to give him, Theo would’ve been content to hold onto you until you grew tired of him. His slender fingers traced down your spine, drawing soothing circles against your skin as you buried your face in the crook of his neck. You felt safe. Like nothing bad could ever happen as long as you were with him.
You couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt like this. There was just this spark between you. Perhaps that was part of the reason why you had been so angry this morning.
It hadn’t just been because Theo sent Alec to the hospital wing, which you were now thankful for after hearing all the disgusting things he said about you. It was also because you thought that he had ruined your chance of feeling that rush with someone else. The same rush you got when the two of you were arguing. The same rush that was noticeably missing when you kissed Alec last night.
Things with Theo had always been electric. You attributed it to mutual loathing, but that wasn’t the full story. Sure he made your blood boil sometimes, but he also made you feel alive. You were terrified to admit it to yourself, which is probably why you said yes to Alec in the first place.
You sighed as Theo’s fingers tangled through your hair. He gently pulled your head back and looked at you in the most heartbreaking way.
“Y/N,” he said hoarsely. Theo’s gaze dipped to your mouth as his arm snaked around your waist. “I think I might die if I go one more second without kissing you. Will you please put me out of my misery, love?”
You couldn’t help but smile. “Gladly.”
Theo held his breath as you pulled him down to you, lips brushing shyly at first. Then you leaned in and kissed him. And he truly and honestly thought that he had died.
Your lips were soft against his, tasting of strawberries and mint toothpaste. He cupped the back of your head and tilted your chin to deepen the kiss. Before, Theo thought he could’ve sustained himself from a simple hug, but right now, he couldn’t even control himself as he gorged himself on your taste.
He chuckled when you tried and failed to get on your tiptoes to offset the height difference between you. Theo caressed your cheek and smiled against your mouth.
“Need some help, love?”
You nodded before pulling him back down again. This time, the tender kisses turned more heated as he locked your legs around his waist and pressed your back against the wall. You gasped as the cold tile made contact with your bare skin and Theo took the opportunity to slide his tongue against yours.
Merlin’s beard. Theo kissed with his entire body. There wasn’t an inch of you that wasn’t touching him and the skin to skin contact set your body on fire. You’d kissed other boys before, but they paled in comparison. You couldn’t get enough of Theo. You ran your fingers through his hair. Wrapped your legs more tightly around his waist. Trailed kisses along his jaw and neck and throat.
Then he fucking moaned.
It was a low, rumbling sound that sent tremors over your body and shook every fiber of your being like a devastating earthquake. You wanted to hear him make that sound over and over again.
“Y/N,” Theo said, his forehead dropping to yours. “Before I lose all sense of self, I want to—no—I need to tell you—”
“What is it, Theo?”
“If we do this, then you have to understand what it means to me,” Theo whispered. “I may be terrible with words, but it’s important for me that you hear me when I say this. I want you. Not just physically, but in every sense of the word. I wanted you in third year when you first told me off for being a dick to the first years and I want you now even though you came in here to defend a prick that definitely doesn’t deserve it.”
“What are you saying, Theo?”
“I want you to be mine, Y/N.”
You beamed. “Like, your girlfriend?”
“I don’t think girlfriend is a strong enough word to express how I feel for you, but it’s a start.” He moved the hair out of your face and cradled your cheek. “So yes, I suppose I do want you to be my girlfriend. I want to hold hands with you in the hallways. I want to look up at the stands during my games and see you cheering me on. I want to take you up to the Astronomy Tower and kiss you under the stars.”
“And you say you’re bad with words,” you teased. “I want to do all those things and more with you, Theodore Nott. Of course I’ll be your girlfriend.”
“Good, cause you’re mine.” Theo said matter-of-factly, those adorable dimples making an appearance on each cheek. “You were mine even before you knew it.”
He kissed you again, but this time it was soft and sweet and it filled your stomach with butterflies. Theo no longer felt the need to hoard as much of your affection as he could because you had just given him the ultimate reassurance that he would have plenty of you in the future.
You sighed contently against him, toying with the curls at the nape of his neck. He shifted, pressing kisses against your neck. Your fingers froze when you felt him stir underneath you.
“Theo,” you said slowly, biting back a smirk. “Is that what I think it is pressing against my leg?”
He groaned. “We’re half naked, in the shower, heavily making out, and you just agreed to be my girlfriend. Of course I’m hard.”
You stifled a laugh. “Theodore Nott, is emotional intimacy turning you on?”
“Everything about you turns me on.”
“That’s helpful to know,” you said with a little smirk. “Especially when we're dueling and I’m losing.”
“Merlin’s beard. My girlfriend’s downright evil.”
You grinned so hard that your cheeks ached. Theo peppered kisses all over your face before setting you down.
“I suppose we should head to dinner soon. My teammates watched you march in here in a fit of rage. They might think you’ve murdered me.”
“There’s only one problem,” you said as you finally turned off the shower. “I’m soaking wet.”
“I bet you are, darling.”
You rolled your eyes. “From the shower, you wanker.”
He grinned and kissed the top of your head. “It’s alright. I’ve got some extra clothes in my locker.”
Ten minutes later, the two of you walked out in the quidditch pitch hand in hand. Theo’s sweater completely enveloped you and he smiled a little at the sight. You received a few interesting stares as you made your way through the castle halls, but one look from Theo and they all quickly found something else to gawk at. Having a scary boyfriend was already paying off.
On the way to dinner, you ran into Enzo. The git had the biggest smile on his face when he saw that you and Theo were holding hands. “So you heard him out after all, huh?”
“Yeah, we sorted out our differences,” you said with a smile. “Coincidentally, I gained a boyfriend out of the whole ordeal. Happy now, Berkshire?”
“Absolutely chuffed,” Enzo said with a grin. “See you lovebirds at dinner.”
Theo rolled his eyes as his friend disappeared into the Great Hall. He turned, squeezing your fingers. “I should warn you. My friends can be a bit…much.”
“Don’t worry, I think we all got fairly acquainted in the locker rooms. If they tease us, well I’ve got a perfectly scary boyfriend to fend them off.”
He chuckled. “A scary boyfriend with an even more terrifying girlfriend.”
You winked, kissing his bruised knuckles. “This school won’t know what hit them.”
“Neither did Alec,” he said with a satisfied smirk. You gave him a reprimanding glare, but it was half-hearted. You didn’t actually feel sorry for the prick. “Sorry. Too soon?”
“You know you can’t punch everyone that says anything bad about me, right?”
“Of course not. I’m perfectly capable of kicking them too.”
You rolled your eyes fondly. “Shut up and kiss me, Theo.”
“Yes ma'am.”
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