#also follow my hector!!!

[pennumbra]

Pin journey update! @xannerz and I were super happy with the response towards the Cass flame design I posted earlier, and we're thinking that it would actually be the best pin for our first project! With that said, here are some other designs we've also been playing around with- perhaps ones to revisit or follow up on in the future. ✨

The hand/moonstone design is the simplest, but it might be my favorite.

[sealrock]

because @thefrostflower 's tags wouldn't leave my head

[blackjackkent]

Starting Hector's endgame tonight, which understandably is taking up a lot more of my brain space than the actual work I need to be getting done.

-----

Karlach rolls over restlessly, then opens one eye, realizing that Hector is sitting up on the edge of the bed. His legs are crossed, his wrists resting on his knees; his shoulders rise and fall with steady, regular breath. She doesn't speak, not wanting to interrupt his meditation, but she does reach out and rest her hand gently on his back. Under her fingertips she can feel the reassuring thump of his heart, the shift of his muscles with each inhale and exhale.

It's comforting, and she desperately needs the comfort. In the morning, for better or for worse, they take the fight to the Netherbrain. And the pain in her chest is so constant now that she knows that her own end isn't so far beyond that either. She has been brave about both, for so long, but here in the dark, on the cusp, it feels all too real and terrifying.

As if it can sense the trend of her thoughts, her engine gives a particularly sharp whir and a stab of brighter pain lances through her torso. A soft whimpering noise escapes her, though she tries to stifle it.

Hector's head snaps around at once. He shifts, turning to face her, cupping one palm to her cheek and pressing the other over her heart. These days, even with Dammon's upgrades, the line of bone and flesh along her sternum is painfully warm to the touch, but he doesn't flinch. "I'm here..." he says softly. "It's all right."

"Sorry..." she mutters, though the apology is a little weakened by the desperation with which she closes her eyes and rolls her face more firmly into his hand.

"Nothing to be sorry for." He leans down and kisses her forehead, then between her eyes. "Pretty bad tonight?"

"Worst it's been..." she admits quietly.

She can see perfectly well in the darkness, and so the expression of pain on his face is clear as day. But he doesn't say anything, just kisses her again gently and rests his forehead against hers, his thumb stroking a soothing line along her cheekbone.

She starts to relax and she can feel him doing so as well, losing themselves in the moment of soft touch. How the hell do you do it, soldier? she wonders absently. Make me feel so safe, when I'm dying and the whole world is coming apart...

"You ready for this?" she asks. "For the brain?"

He exhales softly in an almost-laugh; she can feel the warmth of his breath on her cheek. "Not in the slightest," he answers quietly. "Other than Ansur, I'm not sure I've been this scared since the nautiloid. Even at Moonrise."

She lifts one hand to bury it in his hair, keeping him pulled tight against her. "You've gotten pretty brave, all this time I've known you," she says. "But I think we're all terrified on this one. You're allowed." She kisses him again - against the corner of his mouth, along his jaw. "But we're going to rip that bastard apart. Nothing but grey goo by the time we're through, and it's never going to hurt anyone, ever again."

"Yes. Yes, we will..." His eyes drift half-closed and he rolls sideways, not letting go of her but shifting to lie next to her and pull her into his arms. Her face presses into his shoulder, her palms against his chest. Given her greater height, it's not the most natural position in the world - but he knows, without having to be told, that she needs it tonight, and she loves him for that too.

He rests his cheek against the top of her head and lets his fingers drift in slow, aimless patterns over her back.

"What are you thinking about?" she asks softly, after they have lain there for a while in silence.

"You wouldn't like it if I told you," he answers.

"Try me."

He hesitates. "Just... about strategies," he says. "For fighting the brain. What the battle will look like."

She rolls her head back enough to look up at him and frowns. "Hec... you never lie," she says. "Don't make this the time you start."

He flinches, not meeting her eyes. "I was thinking about how I'm scared because I could die. And then I thought about how perhaps there is a certain level on which that would be the simplest outcome."

Because you wouldn't have to go on living without me... "Oh," she says, not knowing how else to answer.

"Now you see why I didn't want to tell you."

"Hec, listen to me." She puts her hand to the side of his head, pulls him firmly to look at her. "I want you to live. Right? Don't you dare pull some sacrificial shit."

She tries to keep her voice steady, but in spite of her best efforts it cracks with sudden panic. Don't you dare die because of me... and don't you dare make me die alone... I can't bear it...

Whether he understands all this nuance, she isn't sure, but he lets her hold his gaze and nods slowly, firmly. "I won't." he says soberly. "I promise. I promise..."

"After all this is over, you have to see everything for me. This whole world we're saving."

He nods, draws a shaky breath in and lets it out. "I will." His eyes close and he leans his forehead against hers again, pulls her into his chest with savage pressure. "I swear it..."

Gods damn it... she thinks bleakly, and kisses him fiercely as if afraid one of them will slip away then and there. It's not fucking fair...

It's not fucking fair...

[longagoitwastuesday]

I feel like Menelaus would be the kind of husband that buys his wife lingerie as a present. Yes, maybe it's beautiful and it's thoughtful enough to be her style, but it's as much a present to himself as it is for her, if not more.

Odysseus on the other hand would be the kind of husband that makes a present that is actually a part of a long inside joke with his wife. It would probably be received with an annoyed groan while he breaks his ribs laughing at the face Penelope makes. Ultimately a present for himself as well, but in a different way. Penelope retaliates doing the same thing. They've been giving and receiving shitty annoying gifs they hate for years. They both actually love it. Telemachus doesn't understand.

[aldoodles]

I found some sketches from when I read Empire of Dreams in February ( this is all I could think of during the reveal scene )

[smallhatlogan]

i love toads so much all they want to do is eat bugs and in captivity they get desensitized to big animals moving around and just stare intently at all movement around their enclosure like "OMG BUGS"

[muppetebbtide]

trojan war tumblr simulator

🌊 is-the-sea-wine-dark-today

YOU BET IT IS

#the wine dark sea!!!!!!!!!!!! #wine dark sea #wine dark sea posting

108 notes

✌🏻 ajax2electricboogaloo follow

why is achilles the only demigod who's Like That? like he's my boy but u don't see memnon or aeneas or sarpedon acting like him on the reg. why is he so maladjusted? like specifically? I saw his mother once and was so terrified by the sight of a goddess I flung myself to the ground and hid my face in the dirt til she left but I still don't think that accounts for it idk

🏘️ nobody1020

it's blonde man syndrome hope this helps

340 notes

⚔️ sonoftydeus

opening my askbox so that we can discuss strategies on taking troy!

3 notes

anonymous asked: we should all go home :)

⚔️ sonoftydeus answered:

FUCK OFF AGAMEMNON I WANT REAL SUGGESTIONS

50 notes

nobody1020 asked: do u like..... horses

⚔️ sonoftydeus answered:

odysseus do I even wanna know where this is going

45 notes

⌛ isthetrojanwaroveryet?

year 9, day 234: still no....

#all our admins keep DYING

500 notes

‼️ trojan-confessions follow

I think my wife might be sending me anon hate :/ keep getting asks like 'hope u die on the battlefield tomorrow silly slag' and 'menelaus should have curbstomped you' and in her big tapestry of warriors she made me look stupid

🐴 horsetaminghector follow

lmaooo is this paris??

🔮 cryinglikecassandra follow

kinda think helen should send MORE anon hate idk

600 notes

❓ myrmidons-confessions

I was the one who wrote the achilles/agamemnon 100k slowburn enemies to lovers rpf and put it on the group chat but now patroclus is calling me 'agachilles boy' and laughing about it and asking if I can proofread his mock bardic epic where all his dogs are heroes and killing people, so I fear I've made a mistake. I also can't look achilles in the eye anymore... but honestly I've never seen proof he can read so I might be safe

❓ myrmidons-confessions

5000 notes

👑 kingofmycenae

👍🏻 ajaxthegreat

achilles is DEAD and ur posting CRAB RAVE?????

🏘️ nobody1020

I think that's why he's posting it ngl

300 notes

😹 deiphobus42069

imagine being the achaeans and your best warrior gets killed by PARIS, after everyone else had awesome deaths at the hands of sarpedon or hector or memnon... like that's literally so embarassing I just know achilles is fucking fuming down in hades rn. I bet the achaeans are gonna put around that paris was guided by apollo, or that paris happened to hit his only weak spot..... anything 2 try and make it less cringe.... lol lol we're popping the biggest bottles tonight. hope helen's there

🐆 leopardskiniscool

???????????????

#I mean. yeah. but also. #deiphobus wtf I thought we were chill

240 notes

#hope everyone can be normal about the outcome!!! :)

340 notes

🧑🏻 randotrojansoldier-deactivated-8578543

so excited to go back onto the field of battle tomorrow! sure hope I don't encounter any of the big-name heroes

🗣️ homer follow

I hope you don't too! I'm sure you'll do great!

🐎 antilochussss

not the direct address????

✌🏻 ajax2electricboogaloo

direct address got him :(

3000 notes

💂🏻 trojanguardtales follow

fuck my job so much I hope that this wooden horse tribute to the gods turns out to have some guys inside or something just so I can DO something rather than standing here like a twat with my spear

💂🏻 trojanguardtales follow

by ares this can't be happening

345 notes

⚔️ sonoftydeus reblogged menelauskingofsparta

do NOT order achilles from shein!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

#oh yeah #I was stuck with temu achilles in the trojan horse for six hours #and by hour two agamemnon had suggested killing and eating him #and odysseus was threatening to 'send him to meet his father' #and it's not even like there's any kleos in killing priam!!! #anti neoptolemus #neoptolemus defenders dni #vent tags

100 notes

[dyns33]

Obvious

Most of the time I see him as the cool silly big bro, but I love Deadpool, so here's a long Deadpool x female reader.

Normally nothing destined Y/N to meet Wade Wilson.

A normal life, without enemies, without superpowers, without contracts on her head. She didn't fight, respected the law (at least for the most serious and important things) and she considered herself to be a good person.

The first time she had passed Saint Agnes Orphanage, she hadn't really paid it much attention. The second time, she found it a little strange that an orphanage was in this part of the city, which was not really made for children.

Then one evening, when she had had a bad day, she realized that it was a bar and she decided to go in for a drink.

Since she thought an orphanage was strange in that place, she might have thought it was odd for a bar to have such a name. She could also have been scared when she saw the other customers, who all turned towards her, indicating that she might not be welcome.

But Y/N was tired, and she just wanted a drink before going home, so she smiled politely as she sat down at the counter.

The waiter frowned, but he agreed to serve her with a shrug, muttering that as long as she was an adult, it wasn't his problem.

A tall, bald, tattooed guy then approached her, putting a hand on her arm without worrying about her private space, asking her if she wanted to follow him home.

"… No thanks."

“Come on, don’t be a slut.”

"Please."

“Come with me, you stupid bitch.”

"Now, that's really not very nice. The lady said no, a gentleman should know it's time to leave. But no Hector, not only are you insisting, but you're being rude."

"Fuck you, Wade, don't get involved in this !"

The waiter continued to mumble about cleaning, while this Wade guy smashed Hector's head against the counter. A tooth even flew close to Y/N’s face.

That might have been enough to scare her completely. In addition to the surge of violence that was happening right next to her, there was the red suit, the katanas and other guns, which could make you want to flee as quickly as possible.

But when he finished kicking Hector's ass, Wade turned to her, and despite the mask, it was obvious that he was smiling, extending a hand towards her.

"Miss, my apologies for that boor. He knows nothing of good manners."

"… Thank you."

"You're very welcome, lovely angel ! Wade Wilson, Deadpool, Merc with a mouth, at your service ! Oh, he spilled your drink… Bad Hector ! Or was it me ? Maybe it was me. Weasel, the same for the little lady, on my note !”

“You already owe me a fortune.”

“I will kill whoever you want for free !”

“I thought you didn’t kill anymore.”

"Ah yes… I'll suck you for free !"

“Here you go, two drinks, just shup up Wade.”

In the end, Wade was a bit special, but not evil. He stayed with her, partly because he loved having someone to talk to, but also to make sure no one else was going to bother her again.

And he talked a lot. Everything he said didn't always make sense, he even seemed to be talking to himself sometimes, but he was funny. It seemed to please him that Y/N laughed at his jokes. Behind the counter, Weasel was still muttering that she was doing something silly.

Among the long tirade he delivered that evening, she understood that Wade had not had an easy life. That he had done some things that could make him a criminal, but he had been trying to improve for some time.

"Colossus already wanted me to become an X-men but it wasn't for me. Wait, there are X-men in this universe ? I do not know anymore. Anyway, there's Spidey and Devy. No, he's right, this nickname isn't great, Devil. Like Daredevil. They want us to be Team Red, but only if I stop unliving people. It's not fair because they're friends with Frank, and Frank keeps unliving people, but he lost his wife and his kids, so I guess he has more sympathy points than me."

"I don't understand everything, but I guess Spidey is Spiderman ?"

"Yes ! He's super cool ! And his ass ! People confuse us sometimes, it annoys me, but it's a bit of a compliment. He's my role model."

Like a true superhero, Deadpool insisted on taking her home. He was terribly honest, saying that he could leave her a few blocks away, but that was useless, because as a former mercenary, he was very good at stalking people and he could find her address without difficulty, even if he only had her name.

"Which I wouldn't do ! Normally. I might want to see you again, and ask Weasel to find your number, but I know myself, I'll put it in my phone, and I'll hesitate for weeks, then I'll send a lousy message, you'll be scared, you'll block me, I'll be ashamed and I'll shoot myself in the head because I'm a moron."

“I can give you my number.”

"And I… Huh ? Huh ?! For real ?!" exclaimed Wade, jumping like a child on Christmas Day.

Wade called her right away, specifying that it was not to verify that she was giving him a false number but a little. Despite the mask, his face showed surprise when he saw that she hadn't lied.

"I should put a bullet in my head to make sure I'm not dreaming."

“You wouldn’t wake up.”

“Baby girl, we only just met, there are a lot of things you don’t know about me.”

When Deadpool talked about shooting himself, he meant it literally. It often happened that he died, either because of an enemy, an accident, or by his own hand. But he always came back. A gift like a curse.

They became friends. It was obvious, and quite sad, that Wade didn't have many friends.

Most people around him couldn't stand him or were afraid of him. It was true that he could be quite unpredictable, especially when he got lost in his discussions with the boxes, or an imaginary audience. But he was never mean.

Weasel was more of a collaborator, Al was forced to accommodate him, and the other heroes, unable to get rid of him, tried to make him a nice guy.

And he was really nice. Crazy but adorable, funny and wanting to do well.

Very quickly, Y/N started to have a crush, and even more. Even after seeing him without a mask. He never took it off completely to eat, repeating that he didn't want her to lose her appetite or feel like throwing up.

But after landing in a trash can after a fight, and forgetting that he had invited her to watch Princess Bride, Y/N had seen him. Yes, his scars were a bit impressive, but they weren't that bad.

With an embarrassed smile, he waved his hand while remaining frozen near the entrance.

"… I can move if you want to run away. I won't follow you. I may look like Frankenstein's monster, but I only pursue young girls who ask me to. Or who deserve it. Because criminals have no gender, I don't discriminate."

“I brought popcorn.” was her only reaction.

"... Oh. Sweet ? Salty ? Caramel ? Al must have beer somewhere, hidden with the cocaine."

After that, he was a little less afraid to show his face, even though it was obvious he wasn't comfortable. It wasn't easy to reassure him, repeating that she didn't care about his appearance.

Y/N didn’t remember how they ended up having this conversation. The only thing she knew was that she was pressed against him, laughing, when she had innocently said it would be fun if they went out together.

This made Wade laugh, but a very serious laugh, leaving no chance and hitting where it hurt.

"You and me ? Ah ! No chance."

"Why ?"

"It's obvious."

A simple little sentence could sometimes do a lot of damage. Too busy making fun of the characters on the screen, Wade didn't see Y/N's look of sadness, just as he didn't feel her body stiffen.

Still, she should have expected this response. Of course it was obvious that they had nothing to do together. Deadpool was a super hero (in training), he was tall, muscular, funny, rich.

She had seen photos of his deceased ex, Vanessa. She had observed him flirting with beautiful women and men before. It was already fortunate that she was only friends with him.

So Y/N swallowed her pride, accepting the obvious, and not talking about the subject again.

But it was hard, because the more time passed, the stronger the feelings became.

It was even harder when Wade entered his depressive phases. He kept putting himself down, insulting himself and accepting insults from the boxes in his head. It took a lot of patience and perseverance to get him to put down his gun.

"Anyway, I'll come back later. Bad luck for the world. People would be happier if I wasn't here anymore. Maybe they'll miss me a little, for a few minutes."

“I would miss you, Wade.”

"Yeah… You say that because you're adorable, baby girl. But you'd be better off without me too. I'm a real drag."

“You saved me the first time we met.”

"And since then you think you owe me a debt. You know, every time we're in the street, the others look at me and they're afraid. If I wasn't there, you could be with them. You could have lots of friends.”

"I don't want lots of friends, Wade." Y/N sighed, taking him into her arms. “I’m glad we’re friends.”

“Oh, sweetie pie, me too !”

It was rarer for them to find themselves in the opposite situation. Not because Deadpool wasn't capable of empathy, but because she didn't like talking about her problems, preferring to keep everything to herself and cry out of sight.

Unfortunately, she had made the decision to become friends with a former mercenary who loved to jump from roof to roof, only to come visit without warning by tapping on the window.

Y/N had no time to hide her tears, holding back a sob as her eyes met those of Wade, who had stopped mid-movement, fist raised against his window.

He didn't hesitate before entering, terribly serious.

"Who ? Who did this ?"

“Wade…”

"Who made my baby girl cry ? I want a name. Spidey and Dev will understand. Yellow wants decapitation, White wants emasculation. Tell me who."

"It's really not necessary. It's not important."

“It’s important if you cry.” Deadpool growled as he looked around the apartment for clues.

Once he had an idea in his head, it was almost impossible to divert his attention. If it wasn't so important, it was possible with food or talking about Spiderman's butt. But this time he considered it very important.

Tired, Y/N thought that all she had to do was say that it was just a ridiculous heartbreak for him to calm down. He had no reason to kill someone just because they didn't love her back.

This actually seemed to calm him down a bit, as he patted his cheeks with his hands in a dramatic gesture.

"What ?! Someone doesn't love you ?! Someone doesn't like my sweet little angel ? Are they crazy or stupid. You deserve the best !"

"Actually… He's the one who's too good for me."

"Bullshit ! The important thing is love ! If a woman can marry a space duck, then everyone can be together, as long as it's legal and consensual !"

"… What ? No, wait, it doesn't matter. Wade, please forget it."

"A name. Let me prove to you that this fool doesn't deserve you, and not the other way around !"

"No."

"A name !"

"You ! It's you !"

For the first time since they met, Wade was silent for more than a minute, staring at her like he wasn't sure she was real. He often had hallucinations, so this happened to him.

Then he muttered incomprehensible things, probably speaking with his boxes to check that he had heard what she had just said.

"… Me ? As in, me ?"

“I know what you’re going to say.” Y/N sighed, wanting to disappear. "You've already said it, it's obvious that we're not meant to be together. You're charismatic, and strong, and funny, with powers. You save people, you have an extraordinary life, while I… I am me."

"… Baby girl. Do you have a fever ? Did you lose a bet ? Because… You saw me without a mask. You know I'm crazy and dangerous. There are several bounties on my head, I've unlived more people than the population of New York, and my favorite movie is Zoolander 2. When I said it was obvious… I meant that you were too good for me."

There had been a misunderstanding, each being convinced that the other could never want the other, because they were too different. But even though he was special, with skin problems and an inability to concentrate for more than ten minutes, Wade was much better than a space duck.

However, while she was sure of what she wanted, he hadn't clearly said what he expected next.

"I mean, if you just want to be friends, I'll understand."

"You can't tease me like that and then break my heart. Don't play with me, woman !"

“Wade…” Y/N sneered, as he gesticulated like a degenerate, declaiming his great love for her and her smile, the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

Taking advantage of his inattention, she approached him, until he froze when he felt her hands on his mask.

With a look, she asked him if she could take it off, and as he didn't move to stop her, she took it off first up to his nose, before hesitating.

Y/N didn’t want to make him uncomfortable, but she also didn’t want him to think that she didn’t want to see him if she didn’t go further. So she took out the whole mask, she observed Wade, smiling before kissing him.

"… Don't take what comes next as a bad thing." he whispered as their lips parted.

"What ?"

"I'm going to have a heart attack…"

As always, Y/N thought he was joking at first, until he collapsed in front of her, looking delighted even though his heart had stopped beating. Fortunately she was used to seeing him die, even if it was still a little traumatic.

It took almost an hour for him to wake up. Y/N had time to take a shower and make herself some tea, sitting on the couch to wait.

"Shit !" he shouted as he opened his eyes, looking around the apartment before looking at her. “Did we kiss ?”

“Yes and you died.”

"It's weird. Normally you go to heaven after you die, not before. But I probably don't have enough superhero points for heaven yet, so the other option is that I became totally crazy."

“Wade…”

"I know, White and Yellow would have told me. They're already saying that all the time, but they would have insisted, especially for me to escape from the asylum. It's no fun fighting with fake people and hippos. Was I dead long ?"

“No, a little over half an hour.”

"And you stayed with me, it's so cute. Nurse Y/N. No, Doctor Y/N, and I'll be Nurse Wilson. Oh, Doctor Y/N, I made a mistake in the dosage of a patient, I'm a bad nurse, punish me."

"… Let's see Nurse Wilson, we're in the middle of an intervention, calm down."

"Uh oh ! You're playing along !" Wade exclaimed, pouting from the ground. "I didn't expect that ! Wait, I need a blonde wig, and a white dress. You'll see, I look super sexy in a dress. Wait, we do this now or it's quick and we should have a date first ?'

“I wouldn’t say no to a date.”

"I see the genre, like in novellas. Doctor Y/N takes me to the restaurant to talk about my future promotion, but in fact, you are going to admit to me that I am pregnant with you, before I even enter your bed !"

“As long as you’re in my bed before the hundredth episode.”

“UH !”

The small, high-pitched cry of pleasure preceded a second cardiac arrest, Deadpool's mind imagining Y/N and him in a bed, with a stetoscope.

When she asked him if he was going to have a heart attack every time, he told her that he would probably die for good the day he saw her naked, or that they made love for the first time.

But Wade was a gentleman, he ate lots of vegetables, exercised, and begged Daredevil to teach him meditation techniques.

So he had the courtesy of having the next heart attack only after they were finished, and in the toilet. And every time after that they were together, Wade would go out of his way to just get a nosebleed.

Especially on Weasel's counter, telling him everything they had done or almost everything, which annoyed the poor waiter a lot, even if he knew that it would happened from the start, the moment he saw Deadpool with Y/N.

[cherrynflowergarden]

could you write quite literally anything for marc guiu pleased

bf marc headcanons || marc guiu

an; hii ml thanks for the request<3 i did a headcanon bc they're honestly so fun to do hehe arda guler works in process!! I'M SO SORRY FOR TAKING THIS LONG I MET W AN ACCIDENT 😭 POSTING MORE SOON;) we're soooo close to 500 btw;)

taglist; @eirianna @thebasicbiatch @katamcauley @wxnyzie @lilmear-blog @vrlixlia @star-fuck-off @embonbon @idkversace @annawilk @r0nnsblog @weluvwbb @c1ydessturniolo @vintagebishx @maddie-belle @timmdmdm @happydiplomatshepherdspy-blog @crispycitrus @faith-f1 @escapentropy @florscons @carlossainzwho @luckylampzonkland @lewisroscoelove @mudryklover @rageshots @dontworryaboutit007 @chair-things @myangelbaby555 @sheesh1311 @f1lovely @silia1raf

bf!marc who become your personal uber as soon as he got a licence.

bf!marc who facetimes you whenever he's far away.

bf!marc who will hold doors for you. be it the resturant door or the car door, he always makes sure to hold it up for you.

bf!marc who is a proper gentleman.

bf!marc who gets you flowers.

bf!marc who pulls out the chair for you.

bf!marc who always has his hand on your lower back.

bf!marc who accidentally soft launched you via his instagram stories. he just wanted to post a silly selfie; not realising your feet on his lap could seen as well.

bf!marc who mentions you in his interviews.

"well played today marc! could you let us know who the goal was for?"

"my girlfriend."

(yes that's all he's saying before moving on the next question)

bf!marc who smiles so big whenever you're mentioned in an interview.

bf!marc who doesn't want his crazy fangirls to rip you up but also doesn't want them to think he's available.

bf!marc who is a firm believer of private not secret.

bf!marc who needs you to comfort him after a loss.

bf!marc who loves cuddling with you.

bf!marc who clicks thousands of pictures of you.

bf!marc who has a picture of you in his wallet.

(he literally did the 'everywhere i go i keep a picture in my wallet' trend before it was a trend. super proud of himself for that btw)

bf!marc who appears in your tiktoks every once a while.

bf!marc who talks a lot with you and about you.

bf!marc who playfully fights you.

(will feel super guilty and go to any length if he accidentally hurts you)

bf!marc who is super affectionate. not to the point where others feel uncomfortable but he'll always have an arm around you.

bf!marc who listens to your school/uni presentations. and gives his imput on it.

bf!marc who is super supportive of your studies.

bf!marc who does face masks and skin care with you. he was a little apprehensive before but now he enjoys it.

bf!marc who takes you to a carnival date and win gifts for you.

bf!marc who enjoys the quite apartment dates more than going out.

bf!marc who starts watching a series with you but finishes it before you.

"but baby i had to know what happens next. i'm sorry :("

bf!marc who gives you the biggest puppy eyes everytime he wants something or whenever you're mad at him.

(it's so difficult to stand to the ground when he looks so cute)

bf!marc who follows you around like a puppy whenever you go for shopping.

bf!marc who lets you swatch make up products on his arms.

bf!marc who hypes you up everytime you come out the trial room wearing something new.

bf!marc who carries all your shopping bags.

bf!marc who carries your bag in general.

bf!marc who loves when you show him random things you brought.

"marc look at this kuromi pen, isn't it cute?"

"super cute baby"

bf!marc who loves to listen to you telling about your day.

bf!marc who sometimes cooks for you.

bf!marc who sends cat pictures to you and says "literally us:)"

bf!marc who pretends to be annoyed when you team up with hector to tease him.

(he loves that you get along well with his best friend)

bf!marc who is literally the sweetest boy ever.

[httpsdana]

Request: 148 Héctor Fort

Only Yours~Héctor Fort

*GIF isn't mine. credits to the owner*

completely devastated after yesterday's match with Pedri and Frenkie injured. We can't seem to get a break unfortunately :( anyways enjoy <3

you can request from my prompt list

this is my master list

players/drivers I write for

148-"I don't fucking care you're supposed to be mine."

This takes place after the barca/villareal match (i died that day)

The disappointing match has finally ended. Barca losing 5-3 to the 15th place Villareal. Hector has played an amazing match, starting with the team and later on being subbed off.

The whole team was devastated, not only them but also the fans were frustrated. y/n knew Hector would be fuming, so she kept a note to herself to measure her words before speaking.

Walking down to the tunnel, she just wanted to check on Hector before he goes to the lockers where the team will probably have a small meeting.

She stood in the tunnel as the players started walking down, greeting politely the ones she knew, before her favorite player (after Hector ofc) appeared. Pedri smiled at slightly, walking to greet her.

"hola hermosa. how are you?" he asked with his usual charming smile, that seemed a bit upset this time.

y/n blushed slightly at the nickname, before waking herself from her trance, and smiling at him.

"I'm good. nice goal out there. shame it didn't end like we wanted" she said, while he nodded sorrow taking over his features

"yeah...not how we wanted it, but we'll come back I'm sure" he gave her an encouraging smile

She nodded, agreeing with his statement. They stood in silence for a while, before Pedri spoke up again.

"waiting for Hector I assume?" he asked, while she nodded and mumbled a small yes, glancing over his shoulder to see if he arrived.

"well I'm gonna go now. it was nice talking to you" he gave her a small hug before he flashed a smile and walked down the tunnel.

As Pedri disappeared, Hector stood on the top of the tunnel, rage taking over his eyes and face. y/n assumed it was because of the match, little did she know Hector had seen every interaction she had wit his teammate, and let the jealousy take over.

"hi amor. you did so good today" she mumbled, wrapping her arms around his neck. Instead of his usual hug, he just put a hand on her back and pulled away.

"I have to go. we have a small meeting" he avoided her eyes and started to walk away

"I'll wait in the car" she said in a high voice.

He didn't say anything and kept walking down the tunnel. She felt something off about him, but brushed it off and started her small walk to where she had parked her car.

After about 15 minutes of waiting, Hector arrived, seemingly taking a shower already. He opened the passenger door and got in his seat, not saying a word. When y/n opened her mouth to say something, he beat her to it.

"Xavi is leaving at the end of the season" he mumbled, crossing his arms around his chest. y/n was left in shock, not expecting it. Xavi means a lot to Hector because of the opportunity he gave to him with the first team. What y/n didn't know was that Hector's anger wasn't because of Xavi.

The drive home was silent, the tension between the two can be cut with a knife. When they arrived home, Hector was quick to leave the car and slam the door behind him. y/n rolled her eyes and followed him inside.

"so what's with your mood swings now?" she stood in front of him with her arms crossed

"you're talking about my mood swings? why don't you talk about your flirting with my teammates huh?" he said angrily, standing up from the couch he was sitting on

"what the fuck are you talking about?" she said back in the same tone

"did you think I didn't see you with Pedri? I saw every interaction between you too, and you were enjoying it way too much" he rambled, his voice loud and angry.

y/n stood for a second taking in what he said, she did nothing wrong with Pedri but knowing Hector he got jealous over anything.

"really Hector? you're jealous of your teammate? me and him are friends and you know it. YOU were the one who introduced us, why so jealous now then huh?" she raised her eyebrow waiting for his answer

"I don't fucking care you're supposed to be mine." he said through gritted teeth, his jaw clenching while he stood close to her, looking down at her frame that seemed shorter than his

"I'm dating you not him Hector. grow the fuck up please. talk to me when you realize how stupid all this was" she said calmly, leaving him in the living room while she left to the bedroom.

After about 10 minutes, Hector made y/n and himself some tea and took their mugs to the room. He knocked on the door with his foot before pushing the door open.

''hey baby...I made you some tea" he said in a low voice, walking to her side of the bed. She was reading a book, so she closed it and took the mug from him.

"thank you" she mumbled

"I'm sorry for the scene I made. I was already fuming after the match and I guess seeing you with Pedri just made me angrier. I didn't mean for it to end like this and I don't wanna sleep knowing you're still mad at me." he said sincerely, reaching over to brush some hair from her face. She smiled at his apology, kissing the hand on her face and reaching over to hug him

"it's okay babe, just don't do it again. I wouldn't leave you for anyone else. I love you too much to do that" she smiled, him smiling wider

He pressed a kiss on her lips and sat next to her enjoying their cup of tea with some chit chats

[emmylksblog]

could do one where the reader and hector fort are friends with benefits and the reader is jealous but soon after he reveals his feelings and asks her to date

(English is not my first language, I hope you understand) love your write 💕

BEYOND THE BENEFITS PT. 1 // H.FORT

summary: Hector and you have been friends with benefits for some time now, but you begin to feel jealous when Hector starts spending time with other girls. But one night, at Marc's party everything takes a turn.

content: friends with benefits! , angst

warnings: none i think, just a little fight

words: 1171

a/n: i think i deviated a little from the original request but i hope you like it! also, i think i fell in love with marc guiu halfway, ups

Recently, you had begun to realize that your feelings for Hector had deepened into something more serious. You found yourself more and more jealous whenever another girl paid attention to him, and it was consuming you.

To make matters worse, Hector seemed to be pulling away, giving you less of his attention. This only fueled your overthinking and insecurities, making you feel like he was losing interest in you. You were constantly wondering what you did wrong and why he was becoming distant.

You made a difficult decision - you would figure out Hector's feelings for you at the party. If he didn't feel the same way, you had resolved to end your friendship, even though it would hurt deeply since you were friends before becoming friends with benefits.

The party was held by your mutual friend Marc Guiu, and as you entered, you spotted Hector across the room, chatting with a small group.

You deliberately slow down your pace, making sure not to approach Hector too quickly. Between conversations, you grab a drink and chat with other people at the party.

You keep an eye on Hector from across the room, waiting for an opportunity to talk to him alone. Finally, you spot him standing by himself, sipping a drink. This is your chance.

As you were about to approach Hector, you noticed one of the girls who had a crush on him - she had been shooting dagger eyes in your direction all night. She pretends to stumble and "accidentally" bumps into you, spilling her drink all over the front of your dress.

The girl doesn't leave you the opportunity to react and smirks leaning close to your ear.

"You really think Hector is interested in you?" she says in a low voice. "He's just using you for sex. You're nothing but a convenient distraction. He'll drop you as soon as he gets bored."

Despite your attempts to not let her words get to you, a seed of doubt has been planted in your mind. You force a smile, trying to remain composed.

"How do you know that?" you ask, feigning nonchalance. "Hector and I are friends. We've known each other for a long time."

The girl smirks, relishing in your discomfort. "Oh please," she rolls her eyes. "Everyone knows Hector's reputation. He doesn't commit to anyone, and trust me, you're no different."

As the girl's words sink in and the truth of Hector's reputation settles in your soul, tears well up in your eyes, but you stubbornly hold them back. Just then, Hector appears, followed by Marc, looking concerned.

Hector stops short when he sees the stain on your dress and the tears in your eyes. "Hey, what happened?" he asks, his voice laced with worry. And you can't help but only think about how his concern might be just an act as she said.

He glances at the girl who had spilled the drink on you before looking back at you, concern etched on his features. Marc, ever the peacemaker, attempts to diffuse the situation. "Everything alright here?" he asks, looking between you, Hector, and the girl.

Hector looks at you, his eyes fixed on the stain on your dress. "Are you okay?" he asks, his voice soft. "I saw what happened. That girl was just being a..." He trails off, searching for the right words.

The stress and emotional weight of the evening finally get to you, and you reach your breaking point. You turn to Hector not letting him finish what he was about to say, your voice breaking slightly as you confront him.

"Were you just using me? Is it true that i'm just a toy that you'll toss aside when you get bored? Do I hold any importance to you at all?"

You're so focused on getting an answer that you don't notice that your conversation has become the center of attention for some of Hector's teammates.

Hector's hesitation and the silence that followed your question were all you needed to leave him by all means. Your heart breaks into a million pieces, and without another word, you turn on your heel and head for the door, tears streaming down your face.

Marc, who had silently observed the scene, sends a sharp glare at Hector before quickly following you, trying to catch up with your quick strides.

"¡Oye, espera!" ("Hey, wait!") Marc calls out, trying to get your attention.

He follows you out of the party, worried about the state you're in. "¿Estás bien? ("Hey, are you alright?") he asks, grabbing your arm gently to slow you down.

You shake your head, still reeling from the conversation with Hector. The tears are now falling freely, and you feel like your world has just collapsed.

"No," you manage to choke out, your voice wobbly. "I'm not alright."

Marc's face softens, and he wraps his arm around your shoulders, trying to comfort you.

"Come on," he says gently. "Let's go someplace quiet where we can talk. You shouldn't be alone right now."

Marc has always been aware of Hector's feelings for you. He has seen how his friend looks at you, how he cares for you, and how he constantly seeks your attention. Everyone around you seems to know except you.

Marc's heart aches as he watches you cry, knowing that Hector has caused you so much pain by not recognizing his own feelings and instead complicating your friendship. He remembers the days when you three were inseparable, and he wished things had remained innocent.

Marc obliges, wordlessly embracing you and letting you cry into his shoulder. He gently rubs your back, trying to calm you down.

Meanwhile, Hector is standing a few feet away, watching the scene unfold. He had followed you and Marc outside, desperate to talk to you, but stumbled upon the sight of you in Marc's arms. Misinterpreting the situation, Hector assumes that there is something more between you and his friend.

His face darkens as he witnesses the affectionate gesture between you and Marc. A pang of jealousy and anger shoots through him, but he stands there frozen, trying to make sense of what he's seeing.

His mind starts to spin with doubts and insecurities. "Is this why she's been so distant lately?” he wonders. "Has she been spending time with Marc behind my back?"

It suddenly hits him that you were just friends with benefits. He had no claim over you, and you were free to date anyone you wanted.

Regret washes over him as he realizes that he should have made his feelings clear earlier before it was too late. He imagines you and Marc together, happy and in love, and the thought pains him, and a surge of hate towards his childhood friend Marc surfaces subconciously.

TO BE CONTINUED...

part 2!

[sexiestpodcastcharacter]

Sexiest Podcast Character — Unscripted Bracket — Round 2

Propaganda

Gable (Campaign: Skyjacks):

7ft tall sulver-haired thembo of a fallen angel. was the literal sword of god until they killed him! reasons slightly unclear but probably sure to forbidden queer love! super caring for their friends. has one friend they have known for hundreds of years who they HATE but are bound to by the red string of fate. their sword is a part of them, they can sheathe it into a tattoo. they start out indistinct at the edges but as they have continued on through the campaign they have become more and more distinct. they became a flaming engine of justice to kill their friends shitheaded older brother who was following him. they have learned enough necromancy to allow other fallen angels to die, even though they typically cannot. they fly giant birds in to battle.

7ft tall beefcake wielding a sword as tall as they are. vengeful sweetheart

Imagine now: a fallen angel with beautiful gray hair and very big muscles. Now imagine them with a 9 ft sword. Now imagine them as a helmsperson of a pirate ship in a flowy deep-v pirate shirt. Now imagine they're dumb as a fucking rock. And finally, imagine that they killed god. Here, you have made Gable Skyjacks: sexiest podcast character of all time.

7ft tall nonbinary/genderfluid thembo fallen angel sky pirate who wields a buster sword. silvergrey hair with black/gold streaks as they regain feathers/memories of before their fall. back is covered in tattoos that hide the scars of their shredded off wings. killed God. toxic exes with lucifer. they are the keeper of several giant war birds who occasionally crave human flesh. they enjoy getting rowdy/smoking rope with their boys. they collect rocks that they think are neat. When anyone admits they are attracted to them, Gable trips over their words and absolutely swaglessly ends up sounding stupider and sexier by the end of the conversation; the will they/won't they and teasing they dish out to these (un?)lucky few is palpable. Sometimes the buster sword is on fire. They are immortal, they are cringe, they are trying to atone because they believe they are the reason the world is ruined.

Hector Hu is a priest. Gable killed God. They are not the same.

I want to thank my fellow Gable nominators for doing an outstanding job showcasing the beauty and gracelessness that is Gable Skyjacks. Fight hard and take flight my friends 💪😇

Nicky Close (Dungeons & Daddies):

One armed half-demon man with a sword (also a Dedicated, Involved, Loving Father). (Specifically campaign 2, where he is an adult)

[blackjackkent]

The city is hovering on the edge between summer and autumn, and the night has just the slightest hint of a chill on the air as Hector climbs the stairs to the balcony of the Singing Lute Inn, where Karlach told him to meet her.

She's already seated at the table; he can see her fidgeting nervously as he approaches, and her head snaps up, startled, at the sound of his footsteps. Then the nerves are wiped from her face as she grins brightly.

"Hi. Hi! You made it!" she says eagerly. Leaning forward, she pushes back the chair next to her at the table; her eyes run over him from head to foot, drinking in the sight of him in this place so far from camp or combat. "You look nice," she murmurs.

Hector has been nothing but excited to come out and spend this time with her, ever since she suggested the idea - but now, to his own surprise, he feels a pleasantly warm, bashful feeling settle into his chest and realizes he is blushing a little.

Their relationship has been rather backwards and jumbled, he reflects. Months of hoping, wishing, pining after someone he could not even touch, let alone have... and then the collapse, barely over the course of a day, into passionate love - which was new enough for him, when it happened. This, a more traditional romantic moment, is perhaps even more unfamiliar to him now. But unlike so many of the things he has faced that were new and terrifying... this is new and joyful, because it is with her. He is safe, with her eyes on him, no matter what.

"So do you," he murmurs, looking back appreciatively, and he is gratified to see a similar dark flush rise in her cheeks as well at the compliment.

"Thank you," she answers with a bright smile. Shifting nervously in her seat, she picks up the menu hastily and peruses it with an intense studiousness.

"Hmm. Baldurian seafood stew. No thank you..." She peers at him over the top of the sheet. "What do you think you'll have?"

He is conscious of the surreal feeling that they are performing a play for each other, each of them trying to sort out what "acting normal" entails, with a little warm thrill as they successfully hit each beat in the scene. "The grilled rothe ribs sound good," he says with a slight smile.

She grins with an air of relief. "Just what I had in mind," she agrees. She waves eagerly at the innkeeper, a broad and rather surly orc gentleman. "Two of the rothe ribs, please," she says firmly. "And two glasses of..." She pauses, looks questioningly at Hector.

"Wine," Hector puts in, pointing at the item on the menu.

"And two glasses of wine," Karlach finishes, and nods with satisfaction.

As the bartender stalks off, she leans forward, resting her elbows on the edge of the table. Her eyes narrow, taking on a playful air as she starts to relax into the moment.

"So... you're an adventurer, right? How's that going?"

Hector grins, mildly bemused. "You've been by my side for a lot of it, you know," he points out.

She gives him an gentle nudge in the shoulder. "I know, but this is our *first date*, remember?" she says conspiratorially. "Tonight, you're a mystery to me."

His eyebrows lift in understanding, and he opens his mouth to try and answer in kind, continue the conceit of them being strangers to each other... but then he stops, and grins sheepishly. He's neither actor, liar, nor orator at the best of times, and if he is honest, he is finding the way she is looking at him... distracting.

"I'm not sure I can pretend I don't already love you," he says ruefully.

She hesitates, then laughs, shaking her head. "It's all I can do to keep my hands to myself anyway," she answers, and snorts softly. "We're terrible at this."

He reaches out, puts a hand on hers on the table, grinning at her slight discomfiture. "Want to get out of here?" he says teasingly.

Her eyes widen and her face flashes through a mix of eagerness and determination in rapid succession. "No! ...Yes-- No. We came to have a nice date, and that's what we're going to do." She crosses her arms over her chest and looks at him with a stubborn smirk. "Go on. Date me. I dare you."

Hector laughs softly. "You're right. So... erm... where did you grow up?" he tries, after a moment's thought, trying to determine what he might ask her if he had never met her before, if the scent and warmth of her were still things he had yet to experience. This is still not his strong suit - but he will make the effort if it will make her happy.

She brightens up excitedly and settles back into the moment with only a little awkwardness.

"Right here in Baldur's Gate, more or less," she says, gesturing out to the view of the city below them. "My folks are long gone now. But they raised me in the Outer City. Dad was a porter in town, mum did laundry." She smiles nostalgically. "Still think of her when I smell clean sheets. We were poorer than dirt, but my gods we had fun."

He leans back in his seat, just enjoying listening to the sound of her voice, her excitement, her happiness at being back in the city, all washing over him. He's heard some of this from her before - but not all of it. Perhaps this 'pretending to be strangers' bit has even more merit than he expected.

"What about you?" she asks him curiously.

(A/N: The three options here are "much like yours," "i don't like to talk about my past," and "I'm from baldur's gate too, I wonder if we crossed paths"; none of these are actually relevant to Hector's experience of growing up at the monastery. So we're going to skip over this line. XD )

He has told her some things about his life among the monks of Silverlight before - but fairly little about his childhood there. He finds himself starting to talk about it now, though. He has no real stories of joy and excitement like those she describes, and on some level he has started to realize just how barren his life was in these particular regards until he met her... but there were good memories too. He ends up telling her a little about the lessons he received - how he started being trained as a scribe before they discovered his fascination with the ancient tomes and texts of their historical library...

She listens with rapt fascination, just as he had listened to her, a slight, blissful smile on her face.

It's hard to say how long they sit there, caught in the conversation, trading stories back and forth; both of them have started to relax into this 'first date' conceit and Hector feels his cheeks starting to hurt from smiling. They're only interrupted by the eventual arrival of their food... which is wrong.

Two plates of seafood stew land on the table in front of them, along with the two glasses of wine. Karlach looks down at the plate with an air of some disappointment - but is met with a curse from the irritable innkeeper who stalks away when she tries to ask for a change.

Hector can see her struggling to mask the disappointment at the meal not quite going as planned, and she forces a smile back onto her face.

"Worst guy I ever met," she mutters wryly. "How about a toast?"

But, frazzled, she moves too fast, and the wine glass slips from her fingers as she goes to lift it, sending a spray of pale purple across the table - and over her lap. "Oh, SHIT," she snaps, and Hector can hear her voice crack.

Frowning, he reaches out and takes her hand in both of his. He can feel the increased heat of the engine in her palm and knows it for a sign of her agitation, and his thumbs drift over her knuckles gently, soothingly. "We can use my glass," he says mildly, and reaches to lift it between them. "To us."

He can see her relax, his voice and touch pushing away the frustration in favor of something warmer. She smiles slightly, nods agreement as he makes the toast, and her eyes track his intensely. The conceit of the first date is gone abruptly, and he sees the full depth of feeling in her eyes, everything they have built together in the months that he has been hers.

"May we live every day as if it were our last," she says softly. "'Cause you never know when your last will come." Before he can respond, she pushes up from her chair and leans across the table to press her lips against his fiercely.

As always, the oblique reference to how little time they have left makes his heart twist in his chest -- but now it is his turn to push that down and away. It has no place here. This moment is for her - for them - to feel, just for a little while, like they can say anything, do anything... like just for one night they are not trapped in the raging river of fate that is dragging them along.

Just for tonight, he thinks, and kisses her deeply, one hand sliding into her hair. Just for tonight... we have all of time ahead of us...

-----

It must be nearly two in the morning, he reflects vaguely sometime later, as he peers out at the curve of the moon and its position slowly descending towards the west. He's barely been aware of the passage of time; the last few hours have been some of the happiest of his life. Just like she promised... no monsters, no fights, no fears, just them, together, talking about whatever comes to mind, each sentence punctuated by a brush of fingertips against a hand or a cheek, a stolen kiss, a sip of wine...

And of course, the seafood stew, which really is dreadful, but certainly filling.

Karlach leans back in her chair with a heavy, contented sigh. "That was great," she mumbles, and flicks a glance at Hector with a slow smile. "The food and the company."

They've both had a little too much wine, really. Hector's lips have been fixed in a permanent, slightly giddy grin for at least the last hour. All the dark thoughts are far behind him now and he feels as if he is simply drifting, content to be near her, and has been forever, and will be forever still.

"Lovely having a normal evening amid the chaos..." he says quietly.

She smiles wryly. "Whatever do you mean? We're just two normal people... living normal lives... very, very normally."

But she can't maintain the facade again; her voice cracks just a little, and she reaches out abruptly, putting her hand over his on the table.

He stirs slightly, the happy buzz fading as he registers something serious and sad coming into her eyes.

"I know I can't stay forever," she says quietly. There's no attempt at jocular humor this time, no wry deflection or avoidance. Her voice is soft and flat, full of love and full of grief. "Here. With you. In fact, I feel like..." She swallows. "Like I don't have long left at all."

His face spasms with a failed effort to contain the fear that floods through him at those words. Every moment he knows it is on the horizon, and yet hearing her speak of it directly, as something looming even closer than before, feels like a dagger through his heart.

Her hand tightens around his, pulling him a little closer to her. "We've been through so much," she goes on. "And the worst is yet to come. I have every reason to feel terrified, hopeless... like giving up." She draws a breath and lets it out slowly, visibly struggling to keep composure long enough to finish speaking. "But to be here, with you, in the city I love, in this world I love so much... it's all I could really ask for."

She reaches out, cups her hand against his cheek, running her thumb along the edge of his beard. It's an affectionate gesture, of course, but it also serves to pull his face towards her, to nudge open his eyes so they meet hers squarely. "You hear me?" she says, suddenly fierce, her voice cracking again as the emotion starts to overwhelm her. "*You're* all I could ever ask for. I love you... and I know that whatever else this city will throw at us, we can handle it."

He is listening with such fervent attention that he feels a muscle start to ache in his neck. And though his instinct, whenever this topic comes up, is to recoil into grief... this time he forces himself only to listen, to let her words flow through him and strengthen him.

Maybe it will end. But it meant something. It meant everything. It will always have meant everything...

He will have that to hold onto, when the pain eventually finds him. As it will, no matter how hard he tries to look away.

"I love you too," he whispers unsteadily, looking back into her eyes, his gaze heavy with all the love he feels for her. In almost every other moment, he is so careful with what he shows, how he controls himself... but not here. There is nothing hidden, not from her.

She smiles, kisses him again, slow and deep, then rests her forehead against his. "Come on," she murmurs. "There's something I want to show you upstairs."

He has to take a moment and breathe several times before he trusts himself to speak. "What is it?" he asks.

She laughs, only a little shakily. "I rented us a room for the whole night. Just the two of us -- alone, finally."

In spite of the emotional strain of the conversation, he feels a flicker of eager warmth go all through him, and she grins at the expression on his face.

"After you," he says, and pushes himself unsteadily to his feet.

-----

He has only ever experienced their lovemaking in camp. And he had never had anything to complain of. She has always been more wonderful than he would have words to describe, no matter where they are. He wouldn't have thought to ask for more even if it had been an option.

But this... gods. A soft bed and her warmth all over him, the same hungry eagerness that has marked their previous encounters, and yet... slow.

They had claimed to each other that they were going slow, that first night back in the shadowlands - but it wasn't really. It was rushed and desperate, full of need and urgency - both from desire and from the necessary limitations of sex in a camp full of other people.

This... this is slow. They have all night, and no one to bother them, nothing to distract. He is free to take his time, explore every part of her as she explores him. And the look in her eyes as their bodies meld together is something he will never forget if he were to live to be a thousand years old.

He loves her... he loves her... he loves her... and he can feel her on the edge of slipping away from him, but he will carry this with him into the darkness when she is gone.

He loves her and he is losing her and he does not know what he will do without her.

But they have this.

They have this...

[shitsndgiggs]

Hey!! Love your work and you're doing amazing. If you can please write enemies to lovers with Hector Fort :)

Have an amazing day!!!

A/N: Finally we have some Hector Fort appreciation

GOAL-GETTER’S HEART - HECTOR FORT

In which Hector keeps annoying his teammates sister

Hector Fort x Ferran Torres’s sister! reader

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿

The Camp Nou stadium shimmered under the golden rays of the setting sun, a breathtaking backdrop to the final training session before a crucial match.

From the bleachers, I watched Barcelona's star player, Hector Fort, weave through drills with effortless grace. It was a familiar sight, yet one that never failed to impress.

Despite my frequent presence, Hector and I had never seen eye to eye. He was insufferably cocky and seemed to enjoy nothing more than getting under my skin.

His teasing and arrogance were relentless, and I made no secret of my disdain for him.

"Hey, how's it going, little Fort?" Hector called out as he jogged over to where I was sitting. His smirk was as infuriating as ever. "Enjoying the view?"

I raised an eyebrow, unamused. "I'm here for Ferran, not you."

"Ouch," he chuckled, leaning casually against the railing. "Tough crowd. But hey, I'm more than just a pretty face on the field, you know."

I sighed inwardly, preparing for another round of banter. "I'm sure you are."

Hector's grin widened. "You know, you could learn a thing or two about appreciating skill when you see it."

I rolled my eyes. "And you could learn some humbleness.”

Before the conversation could escalate further, Ferran jogged over, grinning widely. "Hey, Hector, cut it out. Leave my sister alone."

Hector raised his hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright. I'll behave. Just trying to lighten the mood, Ferran."

As Hector wandered back to join the team, Ferran gave me an apologetic smile. "Sorry about him. He's always like this."

I shrugged, trying to shake off the irritation. "It's fine. I'm used to it."

The next few weeks followed a similar pattern. I would show up to watch Ferran, and Hector would take every opportunity to make a snide remark or challenge me in some way. But something began to shift.

Beneath the teasing, I noticed glimpses of a different side of Hector—one that was dedicated, hardworking, and surprisingly kind to his teammates.

One afternoon, after a particularly grueling practice, I was waiting for Ferran when Hector approached me again.

This time, there was no smirk, just a tired but genuine smile.

"Hey," he said, his tone softer than usual. "You sticking around for a while? Ferran said he'd be a bit late."

I raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, I guess so. Why?"

He shrugged, looking uncharacteristically hesitant. "I thought maybe you and I could talk. Without the usual... banter."

I was taken aback but nodded. "Sure, why not?"

We found a quiet spot away from the field, and for the first time, Hector seemed more human than infuriating.

We talked about football, of course, but also about other things—our families, our hobbies. I found myself laughing at his stories and sharing some of my own.

"You're not as bad as I thought," I admitted, surprising even myself.

He grinned, but it was a softer, more genuine smile. "And you're not as uptight as I thought."

We continued talking until the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the field.

By the time Ferran finally joined us, I realized that my feelings towards Hector had shifted in ways I hadn't expected.

Over the following weeks, Hector and I continued to spend time together outside of football.

Our talk had marked a turning point in our relationship, and I found myself enjoying his company more and more.

He was thoughtful and surprisingly considerate, always finding ways to make me laugh.

One evening, after a leisurely dinner at a cozy restaurant, Hector walked me to my car. The city lights twinkled around us, casting a romantic glow over the streets.

"Thanks for tonight," he said softly, his hand brushing against mine.

I smiled, feeling a warmth spread through me. "No, thank you. I had a great time."

He paused for a moment, as if gathering his thoughts. "You know, I really like spending time with you.

You're different from anyone I've ever met."

My heart skipped a beat, realizing where his words might be leading. "Hector..."

He interrupted gently, his expression earnest. "I was wondering if... maybe we could do this again. Officially, I mean. Like, as more than just friends."

I looked at him, surprised yet undeniably pleased. "Are you asking me out, Hector Fort?"

He grinned sheepishly. "Yeah, I guess I am."

I laughed softly, feeling a rush of happiness. "Then yes, I'd love that."

[edenfenixblogs]

I respect your opinion that screenshotting is a normal part of discourse, however, that behavior is restricted to online communications and has only recently become normalized in certain communities, which does not mean that it is normal. I cannot understand that you think my comment about how Jews can function as white in certain contexts has led you to remark the following (forgive me if I mistake you): "I don’t hate you. But I am scared of you. I am scared that you hate me and my people, because so many people do and have shown that they do." Please reconsider your position on deleting both posts, and I offer you my promise that I will never speak to anyone on this site on any issue ever again, as I have very rarely ever used this site for that reason. I respect your feelings regarding virulent hate that you've received in comments, but I am a very private person, and I do not like having my blog name across parts of tumblr that I do not frequent. I only responded when your post came across my dash by chance because the statement that Jews are emphatically not white struck me as ludicrous insofar that it suggests that there is a kind of immutable Whiteness that *is* real. In the course of my response, I have been called an "ass" by your followers; a lifelong reader, my "reading comprehension" has been insulted by one excessively pleasant Jennifer; I was told that "race as a social construct is very much real" by someone in Germany, as if I don't know that after living my entire life as a woman of color in America. I have been, in short, utterly baffled and horrified by my communications with all of you. My comments were not intended to be a statement on antisemitism, or whether Jewish pain is real (of which I believe you accused me), or whether Jewish people can be considered "other" in this century or centuries past, but that is how they have been universally interpreted by you and your bullying, hectoring followers.

So there’s a lot going on here. And I’m not sure how I feel about all of it. So I’ll attempt to break it down.

1. I respect that you’re a private person. I will consider altering my post so that my commentary beneath it is removed on only your words as you wrote them will be visible. I will also delete your username from the screenshots. I may also delete the post entirely, but if I do that’s something I’ll need to mull over for a few hours to a few days. The reason I cannot outright commit to deleting the whole thing right now is because of the aforementioned need to archive comments that trigger trauma responses in Jewish communities.

2. I don’t want you to feel like you cannot speak on any issue. You can and should speak on issues if you’re passionate about them. But you should understand that when you’re speaking on communities of which you are not a part, you may be met with ire at the way you speak on things triggers issues you may previously have been unaware of. And not everyone will be patient or kind when you do so.

3. Name calling is not something I encourage or participate in. Followers, please don’t call people names on my behalf, although I very much appreciate your attempt to defend me. It is not necessary and doesn’t foster peace.

4. I don’t think you understand: your reading comprehension was poor in this case. This is not an indictment of your intelligence broadly speaking, nor is it an indictment of your general reading comprehension skills. The point of my post was to explain that the racial categorization of Jews is unfixed. Even white-passing Jews have to contend with uncertainty of how they are perceived with the ever present fear that this can change at any time. While some Jews may self-identify as white, most that I have met do not. Neither do many of us identify as POC. We are a liminal group in between.

There is a lot of discourse about Jewish whiteness these days, which I have discussed before on this blog. The main points here are that even white-passing Ashkenazi Jews with some ties to Europe are not white as a result of privilege and therefore our status as white cannot be associated with privilege (although we do of course benefit from white-passing privilege). White-passing Jews with historical ties to Europe are often white as a result of mass murder and sexual assault. Meaning: those of us who were too ethnic appearing for Europe were murdered. Those of us who looked “white enough” were sexually assaulted and forced to bear the whiter children of their rapists. This was done so thoroughly to Jews over the course of a few centuries in Europe that many of the surviving Jews with European ancestry today have whiter skin than many of our Sephardi or Mizrahi counterparts. And while other “white”peoples in Europe benefited from their European appearance during the previous few centuries, Jews did not. In most countries we were forced to live in ghettos, denied citizenship, only allowed to work certain jobs and then demonized as if we conspired to control those industries before finally being slaughtered in the millions by people who despised us specifically for being not white enough. In fact, Hitler described as an “Asiatic race.” American white supremacists consider us middle eastern usurpers, as do many European white supremacists. In the Middle East they call us white colonizers. And none of this has anything to do with how we look. It has everything to do with what those who condemn us hate most. Which is why I made my initial post in the first place.

Jewish white passing privilege in the United States is completely different than Irish or Italian white privileged, because of the historical circumstances surrounding our perception in Europe, America, and around the world.

And none of this even begins to touch on the infinitely nuanced experiences of black and brown Jews in America, Europe, and elsewhere. Nor does this address the loss of whiteness experienced by gerim (Jews by choice) who grew up with full white privilege and have experienced a distinct loss of that privilege after conversion.

Jews as a people predate the modern concepts and categorizations of race, religion, and ethnicity. These are words and concepts that came into existence long after Jews already existed. And as such, these terms often fail to account for our experiences in myriad ways.

To put it mildly, race as a concept is a very thorny topic for Jews.

5. If my statement struck you as ludicrous, a better course of action would have been to ask what I meant or to look into what I have already said on the subject in reblogs of that very post. But you didn’t. You came into a post by a Jewish person and imposed your understanding and definition of race onto us. As so often happens by non-Jews. And then you spoke down to us by calling us fools. That hurt. Not just emotionally. It hurt in that it causes harm to my community by thoughtlessly igniting cultural wounds. In future, if you see a cultural group of any kind talking about an experience that strikes you as ludicrous, seek understanding. Seek to understand why we feel that way.

6. I did not bully you. Nor did my followers, except those who chose to call you names. Which I do not endorse. We expressed anger at you, because we are angry. We have a right to both feel and express that anger. We are not bullies for having feelings and communicating them. While I always advocate for civility, we do not owe politeness to those who harm us. We should not meet harm with harm. But we don’t have to always be perfect and kind and sweet and understanding. Sometimes, we can be angry.

7. We have all agreed that race is a construct. You. Me. My followers. The German person who you mentioned. What we are having a miscommunication about is how the status of race as a construct uniquely affects Jews in ways that are different from the experiences of both white people in Europe and America as well as from the experiences of other racial and ethnic minority groups. We all know that whiteness is not immutable. What we are all trying to communicate to you is that whiteness as a concept does not now nor has it ever been fully applied to or embraced by Jews as a community.

I want to be very clear: I still don’t hate you. I’m upset about the whole situation—both our conflict here and the status and topic of Jewish ethnicity more broadly. I am trying very hard here to speak clearly and with understanding and compassion for you and your privacy while also remaining steadfast in communicating the feelings of my fellow Jews in hopes that you will understand how and why we have reacted to you in the way that we have. I am also terrified that you will walk away from this interaction feeling negatively about Jews in general and that this will be my fault. Because any less than perfectly sweet and emphatically kind behavior from us as a community so often held as evidence of our terrible [insert negative quality here] and used as an excuse to write us off.

I can tell that you don’t mean us harm as a group nor do you want to be perceived as antisemitic. But just like any systemic prejudice, it must be actively dismantled. Until it is examined and dismantled, its existence will continue to lead you to unintentionally harm us. Antisemitism is a deeply ingrained systemic prejudice. Literally everyone has it until they do the work to get rid of it. That is what I am asking of you. That is what my followers are asking of you. Even if we didn’t ask in the most perfectly polite and self-effacing way.

[strawberryblue-blog]

please do the fc barcelona boys (fermin, lamine, hector, pedri, marc) with a volleyball player gf plsspslpssplsps im on my knees begging

Volleyball player girlfriend

—FC Barcelona.

summary: How would they react to having a girlfriend who plays volleyball?

warnings: none. cute, soft.

#SEXYNOTE: I apologize for the delay. I've already started classes again and i'm picking up the pace.

I hope the person who asked for this enjoyed it. Thank you very much, love you 💝

Fermin Lopez.

He was very surprised when you told him you play volleyball, it's a sport he really likes so he would go to see you every game. Even if he has training or concentration he will do his best to come and watch you play.

He will want you to teach him all about the sport, he will listen attentively and try to play with you. He is very supportive and proud that you are so good and especially that you don't give up when you lose.

On the volleyball court, he follows you with his eyes every move you make. The determination in his eyes and the grace with which you move around the court fills you with admiration. Every point in your favor is a shared victory that strengthens the connection between you, making you appreciate your passion for the game even more.

Lamine Yamal.

He was so happy that you invited him to a game as a first date. He loves any sport and watching you play volleyball was like a crush for him. He loves that you are as passionate about something as he is about football.

He would take you to every practice, he would even stay and watch you for support. He would go to your games, buy your jersey, bet on your team, be your number one fan and be proud of your talent and skill.

As he watch the volleyball game, Lamine feel a mixture of nerves and excitement. Every time you serve well or defend skillfully, he experiences a surge of joy for you. The intensity of the match seems to mirror your own emotions, creating a unique bond between the sport and the connection you share with him.

Hector Fort.

He would be so excited to go to your games, he would be in number one fan mode. He loves to support you no matter how much you have to travel to other places, if he has the day off he will definitely drive to you.

He is not a good player but he would play with you all afternoon even if you kicked his ass. You guys have fun playing, watching games, supporting each other. He loves that you have a passion like he does and that you both can enjoy each other in every sport.

As he immerses himself in the world of volleyball, he becomes your most fervent spectator. Every time you connect with the ball, he feels a special throbbing in his heart. The emotion and effort you put into every play not only fills him with pride but also reinforces the complicity you share.

Pedri Gonzalez.

Actually that's how you met, he went to a game with the boys and it was like love at first sight, apart from the talent and good attitude you had on the field.

He's just another fan, he always tries to encourage you, he goes to every game or watches them on TV, he wears your jersey, he would come to see you with his whole family. He is a proud boyfriend and admires you for your warmth and discipline.

From the stands, he watches in admiration as his girlfriend rises to the challenge on the court. Every serve, every block, every point, awakens in him a mixture of emotion and unconditional support. His attention is reflected in your every move, creating a special bond between his love for the sport and you.

Marc Guiu.

He thought it was so cool when you told him you played volleyball. He had never met anyone who would play any other sport besides football and he really found it interesting.

He would play with you and be very competitive, he knows that way you can train better and get better. He would definitely go to your games, wear your jerseys and be the proud boyfriend posting pictures and everything about you playing and cheering you on.

He is always in the stands, watching in admiration as his girlfriend dominates the volleyball court. Every graceful move and every powerful attack awakens in him an irrepressible pride. His support reflected in every serve and the joy in his eyes as he celebrates a point make you feel lucky to have him by your side.