#i will finish it but it might possibly be the last thing I do

[sillylotrpolls]

No surprises here. Everyone loves Sam, and "There's some good in this world..." is everyone's favorite quote by Sam. No wonder it took first place with 20.5%, and was probably all over your dash in motivational poster fashion besides.

"I wish it need not have happened..." came in second at 15.8%, which A) legit, I am also exhausted, and B) is actually indicative of the overall hope present here on Tumblr.

If you combine all the non-hopeful options, you get 15.8% + 7.8% + 1.8% + 14.2% = 39.6%. That's nowhere near a majority, and if we remove the votes by people sick of the quotes entirely, is only 29.6% of the total (15.8+7.8+1.8 / 100-14.2). Less than a third! Galadriel was absolutely right; hope does indeed remain.

If you take the time to peruse the ~1900 replies and comments (which, good lord, that's a lot for this blog), you can find many more messages of such hope, plus thankfulness for Tolkien and suggested quotes that didn't make it into the poll. Two of my favorites:

@thevillainofthisstory #i will be a healer and love all things that grow and are not barren#let us cross the River and in happier days let us dwell in fair Ithilien and there make a garden

@cleanfreakandshittyglasses #in place of a dark lord..you wOULD HAVE A QUEEN#not dark but beautiful and terrible as the dawn!!!#treacherous as the seas!!!#stronger than the foundations of the earthhh!!!#all shall love me and despairrrrr….

Not gonna lie, that second one hits especially hard given, you know. The possibilities. First woman US president when?

Last, I want to get into the performance of "If I see one more quote..." This option started at around ~10% of the vote, climbed to ~12% by day four, and eventually finished at 14.2%. That might not seem like a big difference, but as you may know if you pay any attention to the aftermath of an election, it's quite difficult to make up ground as votes are counted. A detailed explanation of how this works is under the cut below.

Let's say Blorbo and Shitto are both running for Mayor of the Shire. It's election day and the votes are being counted. When 1000 votes have been counted, Blorbo has 60% of the vote, because this is convenient math land (home of the friction-less plane and spherical cow!). Shitto has 40%, because in this example there are no third parties and no one left their ballot blank or filled in two bubbles or anything else.

Let's also say that 3000 votes total were cast in the election. It's the end of the day and the polls are closed, so the total number of votes is known. It's only the contents of those votes that's still being tallied.

The timeline then looks like this:

Zero votes counted Blorbo needs 1501 votes to win (50% + 1) Shitto needs 1501 votes to win (50% + 1)

Local hobbit reporters are hanging around polling places and doing exit interviews, but nothing is yet known.

1,000 votes counted Blorbo: 600 votes (60%) Shitto: 400 votes (40%)

Blorbo needs 901 more votes to win, ~45% of the remaining votes Shitto needs 1101 more votes to win, ~55% of the remaining votes

Shitto's campaign manager says "It doesn't matter; the votes from Buckland aren't even in yet!"

2,000 votes counted Blorbo: +500 = 1100 votes (55%) Shitto: +500 = 900 votes (45%)

Blorbo needs 401 more votes to win, ~40% of the remaining votes Shitto needs 601 more votes to win, ~60% of the remaining votes

Shitto's campaign manager says "We're trending in the right direction!"

All 3,000 votes counted Blorbo: +450 = 1550 votes (~52%) - WINNER Shitto: +550 = 1450 votes (~48%)

Shitto's campaign manager sends out text messages asking for donations to pay for a recount (that, mathematically, is extremely unlikely to succeed).

As you can see, once you have a deficit, it's extra-hard to gain ground in an election (or tumblr poll) where what matters is not the number of votes but the percentage of votes gotten. Given infinite time and votes, Shitto could potentially have pulled out the win, but there was a very finite number of votes cast with a very specific deadline.

Similarly, Tumblr polls may not have a cap on votes, but they do run for a limited amount of time. And when you reblog a poll for "awareness" or a "bigger sample size" or to try and propagandize in favor of your favorite, yes, you might get more votes for your preferred choice, but at the same time votes are still coming in for the other option(s).

Anyway, given the large number of votes (for one of my polls) and the clear pro-Tolkien leanings of most voters (who were also the most likely to see this poll), not to mention the 12-way race, it's actually very impressive that "If I see one more 'inspirational' Tolkien quote on my dash today I might hurl" made up as much ground as it did.

However - and this was not intentional, but you better believe I'm gonna remember it - at least some people who voted that they were sick of the quotes still reblogged the poll. They did so with a comment or tags that indicated their irritation, but - they still reblogged and shared the poll, spreading the inspirational quotes they themsleves were so sick of.

When I create poll options, I usually try to cover as many bases as I can (unless it's funnier not to). Frequently, I'll throw in an "other" as a catch-all. This is because I'm trying to capture the electorate (so to speak) as best I can and am genuinely interested in the results and what voters think. But, if I simply wanted a poll to spread as far as possible because I had delusions about the advantages of going "viral" on tumblr, there's clearly a case to be made for including an option that boils down to "actually, I hate this poll and everything about it." A hate reblog is still a reblog, after all.

Use this information as you will.

[madschiavelique]

A Crown Of Ink : Chapter 5 - Temperance

summary : viktor and reader work together in the library (so much banter, it's insane), then maybe there's a small fight because a guy called viktor a cripple and that causes some issues

content warnings : mentions of blood but really not that much tbh

word count : 5,4k

author's note : you thought i was gone on this one huh ? WRONG. we're so back babies! i know it's been 2 years since i've touched this baby okay, but i'm back now! hopefully i will get more time to write about this lil guy bc i love this fic.

masterlist : 1 — 2 — 3 — 4 — 5

(not proofread, english is not my first language ✦)

taglist : @doctorho

For the rest of the two long hours, Heimerdinger continued his lesson.

The class had come to an end, you silent, the class teeming with gossip. Professor Heimerdinger had distributed the subjects one by one to the students at the end of the lesson. He was a perfectly reasonable, friendly teacher who tried to make his pupils laugh at the expense of their historical knowledge.

When you had a lesson with him, you knew you were listening to a teacher who was wise enough to turn events and experiences into jokes to lighten the burden of his history lessons.

He was always on the lookout for questions and comments from the students, not hesitating for a moment as he gave the subjects to the groups one by one to point out the difficulties they might find and the pitfalls that might await them.

In short, Heimerdinger wanted his students to succeed, not to see a decline in the Piltover Academy's chances of success, which in the eyes of many seemed to be something to crow about rather than something to be ashamed of.

The very idea of being one of the few students to overcome these difficulties and succeed was, in your eyes, the greatest reward that could ever be given to you.

“Young folks,” he said, pointing to the two of you. “Come this way. I have reserved a subject especially for you.”

Heimerdinger didn't do things haphazardly. He gave students subjects that reflected them, or at least where he knew the results would be most interesting. You couldn't help but fear what he was up to.

When the students had dispersed, the tinkle of Viktor's cane sounded until he arrived at your side. You sighed audibly as you looked at him, crossing your arms over your chest as he gave you a winning smile.

He seemed to enjoy it when you got angry, and took great pleasure in teasing you constantly. Had he been a friend, you wouldn't have held it against him, even though your list of friends consisted mainly of Eris, Sky and Jayce. However, a friend wasn't supposed to be a problem for your success. There's only so much space in the academy for students who come out on top, and you weren't about to give yours away.

“Good,” he said at last as the last student passed through the doorway. “There's no need to point out that you two are the sharpest elements of this class, you're well enough aware of that, as is the rest of the school certainly.”

Your bickering and petty battles almost made the corridors of the school come alive again with the excitement of rumour and gossip partaking in your reputation.

“None of the fellow teachers in this establishment seem to have brought to the table, however, a possibility which seems to me to be the most interesting for both of you: teamwork.”

You arched an eyebrow, finding the reasoning profoundly moronic.

“Sir,” you couldn't help but point out, “this school is eliminatory. Why would you want to associate students who won't necessarily all have the chance to pass the exams?”

Heimerdinger chuckled, “I'm not doing it with the prospect of a pass or a gold medal waiting for you at the finish line, Miss.”

You tilted your chin up in a slight pout of surprise.

“You see, I'm not necessarily trying to prepare you for the exams, but for what will happen once they're over. Having a diploma is all very well on paper, but what counts most in the end will be what you achieve.”

“All right,” you admit, “but why put us in a pair like this?”

“It's quite simple,” he jumped up from his desk, trotting across the floor to stand in front of you, your eyes downcast on him. “In the working environment, you don't always find a shoe to fit. And when you don't have the power to dismiss your colleague just because you don't like them, you have to learn to sacrifice your temperament for the sake of the common good. Now, I'm not asking you to make sacrifices, that word is far too violent, but I am asking you to compromise.”

You exchanged a look with Viktor, your fists clenching until your knuckles were white. You'd already made enough compromises for one lifetime, and now you had to go on? He, for his part, didn't seem too bothered by the situation. How could he be so calm? So serene about the idea of cooperating?

“You don't always work with the person of your choice, and not always on the subjects you'd prefer. Oh, that's just it! Speaking of subjects…”

He stood on tiptoe, grabbing the last sheet of paper from his desk and holding it out to Viktor.

The latter, for once, frowned in pure confusion and even perhaps... irritation?

“The evolution of Zaun's power?”

Your eyes narrowed before shifting from Viktor to Heimerdinger, “Are you joking?”

“I do love to laugh young lady but the shortest jokes are the best. You both seem, for different reasons, to have an excellent knowledge of Zaun. Its political power, its evolution, and even the iconic figures who can make themselves forgotten in the shadows of its depths.”

You exhaled a shaky breath, trying to remain upright and not revolt on the spot. Heimerdinger seemed way too amused and happy of his little scheme.

“Any questions?”

Viktor read the subject and what you had to complete, “Do you have any books to recommend to us Professor?”

Heimerdinger's voice became a blur as your thoughts drifted like the Grey in Zaun. Every corner of this city was out to kill you, and even when you were out of it, it followed you like your shadow.

Were you ever going to get out of such a cycle, out of this city’s grasp ?

“Miss?”

The teacher's voice brought you back down to earth. Distracted, you simply offered a confused hum in question so that he would repeat his last words.

“Your assignment is due in a month. That gives you time to put your differences aside and find a way of working together. If you'll excuse me, my next class is coming up soon.”

He gestured towards the exit, and soon enough you found yourselves in the corridor. The momentary emptiness of the hall almost seemed to bring you back to reality.

You drew in a breath, meeting Viktor's gaze beside you. You couldn't afford to get a bad mark, especially not for a Heimerdinger course. He was one of the most renowned scientists in the country, with his own seat on the Piltover council. To produce mediocre work would be to end your career on the spot, and you were prepared to at least try to cooperate with someone like Viktor.

“Why are you not begging the teacher to put us both in different duos?” you asked while Viktor was still reading the subject content.

“Hm, I think it might be fun.” he said, not even glancing at you.

You scoffed, “You and me?” your trigger finger pointing back and forth between the two of you, “Together? Fun?”

His eyes dropped from the paper, scanning you with a changed interest.

“You'd rather go back in there and ask for a rematch like a loser?”

A muscle near your eye tensed for a moment.

He sighed, his eyes returning to the subject, “Admitting defeat takes strength.”

“So you think I'm weak ?”

But Viktor didn't seem to have the slightest interest in you at the moment.

You relaxed your shoulders, sighing. There was no point in trying to beat him, you weren't - on that subject at least - in competition.

“Can I see the subject?” you asked, reaching for the paper, but he removed it from your reach in an instant.

You frowned, this wasn't going to be easy.

“Do I disgust you?” he asked.

The question caught you off guard, your eyes blinking several times as you almost looked at him with fresh eyes.

If the question was purely physical, no, Viktor didn't disgust you. He was always accompanied at all times and in all places by that same invariable weariness that gave him a particular elegance. He had features common in Zaun, brown hair, amber eyes, and an accent that made some of the girls in your class drop like flies.

When it came to his character and personality though, it was another thing entirely.

“You annoy me,” you replied, managing to snatch the subject of his hand with enough agility that the gesture left him surprised, “but you don't disgust me.”

He remained silent for a moment. You could feel his eyes on you as yours fell on those of the subject.

“The only thing that disgusts me is your taste in pasta,” you confirmed.

He let out a little laugh, the kind that mixes humming and nose blowing, the kind you do when a remark makes you nostalgic.

“Friday, 5pm, library, don't be late.” he said simply, the clink of his cane echoing on the floor as he began to walk away.

As your eyes roamed over the page, you couldn't help but take in nothing of what was written. Your mind was stuck on him, on the trick Heimerdinger had just played on you.

He had just orchestrated a game that the whole school was going to bet on, the teachers were going to look at your situation in a new light, and in the worst case scenario, multiply the group work to put you both in pairs.

Your heart looped as you realised that this was undoubtedly another test. Heimerdinger was going to observe which of you was the best performer, the most pliable, the best at teamwork.

You had to be flawless, you had to.

Friday came earlier than you imagined, and you weren't looking forward to it in the least. You hadn't stopped thinking about it, finding yourself on numerous occasions distracted during your homework.

The card of the day you had drawn was Temperance, and the little booklet told you:

Alchemy. Mixing and harmonising opposing forces and concepts. Maintaining opposing ideas and encouraging complexity in life. Fusion produces evolution.

The archangel Gabriel, the angel messenger, is represented on the card. He wears the sign of the sun on his forehead. This is also the alchemist's symbol for gold. This card reflects the changing of the seasons and the adoption of new ideas. Temper in Latin is the act of repetition to invoke skill or to refine something, to make it sharper like a sword.

What a pain that was, and to think you'd have to endure this for a whole month of deep research and hours spent by his side working, together.

You dragged your feet as you made your way to the academy library.

It was a magnificent place, filled with the smell of varnished wood, old paper and dried ink. The ceiling was arched, the bookshelves forming real walls that separated the room like rows of pews in a church. If it hadn't been reserved for the academy's research students, it would surely have been on Piltover's list of monuments to visit.

There weren't many people there, apart from a small handful of students finishing their homework before basking in the arrival of the weekend. You were a good fifteen minutes early, and didn't see Viktor at all.

You were just about to put your bag and things down by a table and start your research, when a voice you wouldn't have preferred to hear at the time greeted you:

“Ah, there you are,” Viktor approached, coming out of one of the library corridors, “I just needed some help to get to the higher tomes.”

With his free hand, he held up a small stack of tomes, pressing them under his chin before placing them on a table with two or three other books already laid out.

You sighed, moving your things over to his table, “Have you been there for long already?”

“Why, do you care about me?” his cheeky grin made you roll your eyes.

“I think you overestimated my greatness. Which shelf?”

He said nothing, making his way to one of the shelves. You followed him. Fortunately, the women's uniforms at the academy had trousers. You wouldn't have known what to do if it had been otherwise and you'd ended up on a ladder above him.

“You know,” he began as you reached the meagre ladder to the upper shelves, “I've been looking forward to working with you.”

You arched an eyebrow, your hand gripping the ladder as you looked at him in confusion.

“Why?”

The two of you were only picking on each other, you were avoiding him like the plague, and you'd made it clear to him several times that your situation was that of a competition. So obviously you had a right to be surprised as to why he'd want to work with you.

He shrugged. “You were the top student before I came here, surely there must be a reason behind it.”

You expelled an abrupt puff from your lungs, your breath taken away by his insolence. You could only expect it after all.

You climbed a few steps up the ladder, looking for Zaun's historical tomes.

“Is that supposed to be a compliment, or am I to believe my working buddy seeks to diminish me to a fictive second rank?”

“We're in a library, alas, reality catches up to this fiction, miss number two.”

You clutched the volume in your hand, your nostrils flaring for a moment in anger. He knew how to annoy you, and you never seemed to find a single point on which you could reciprocate.

You held out the tomes one by one for him to take. “Guess I could work on a pet name for you too.”

“Be my guess.”

Once his arm was full, you took a few tomes in your hands before climbing down the ladder and walking towards the table. “And make you the honour of thinking of something to be done for you ? I'd rather lick sandpaper.”

He feigned disappointment, “So I do disgust you, this pains me.”

You set the pile of volumes down on the table, reaching into your bag to pull out paper and pens.

“Yeah well, You were supposed to pretend I didn't exist, not try to bother me to death. So I guess we're both disappointed.”

He took a seat, grabbing a volume and placing it in front of him. “So I bother you ?”

You sat down opposite him, imitating his gesture as you searched with interest for a tome to start with.

“What a transcending sense of observation you have.”

He brought both his hands up in front of him, resting his chin on the backs of his fingers.

“How do I bother you?”

You were starting to get annoyed by his questions. You had come here to work, not to chat.

“Your simple existence?” you replied, staring into his eyes.

He sighed, opening his book and noting on the page its title.

“As if yours wasn't proof that failure has a sense of humour.”

You said nothing, letting his comment wander in the air as you started your own research in silence, locating the chapter of interest to you in the table of contents.

“But seriously,” Viktor continued, “why do I bother you?”

You sighed, pinching the page you were on before shifting your eyes from the words on it to Viktor's curious amber gaze.

“You want an honest answer ?”

He nodded. You let go of the page, straightening up.

“You come into my life and wreck everything I've built brick by brick, wouldn't you be the slightest bit frustrated if that happened to you ?”

It was his turn to be silent this time. He seemed to look at you differently, as if, by some miracle perhaps, he'd just realised what was at stake for you in this situation.

He wasn't even touching the tip of the iceberg of why you'd come to the Academy, but for a moment he seemed to understand how important it could be for you.

Your eyes returned to your page, trying to find keywords to write down or information to record.

“You surpassed me in the exam, teachers love you, you make great friends…”

“Almost sounds like you're obsessed with me.”

Your lips parted, eyes wide as you looked at him as if he'd just slapped you, leaving your cheek and your thoughts with a warm tingle. You were so surprised that nothing came from your lips, which was beginning to be enough for a flash of mischief to cross Viktor's eyes and for the corner of his lips to form a sneer.

“I'm not.” You finally reply, trying to remain composed and not to stammer for anything in the world.

“Denial would've worked before the long vacant stare,” he says, advancing slightly on the table.

“Why do you have to be like that?”

“Like what?”

You humph, dropping back in your chair in despair.

“Better than me.”

He recoiled slightly, as if the remark was completely far-fetched and unfounded.

“There are thousands of people better than me, why do you have to focus on my poor self, hm? Did I barge in your territory?”

He had, unconsciously he truly had. It was you who was supposed to be first, otherwise the consequences would've been mentally dire.

“Take it this way,” he continued, “there's surely something you're better at than me.”

You couldn't think of much on the spot, especially not when there was a possibility of you making a list of things he topped you in. There was surely one thing though.

“Running.”

He opened his lips in surprise, a smile stretching across his face which he hid with his hand. You were already regretting what you'd just said.

“Jayce is going to be the first one hearing about this.”

“No it's-”

“So you're participating in a system made against disabilities.”

“I never-”

“Are you going to steal my crutch next in hopes of beating me to a race?”

“You're never going to drop this now are you ?”

“With such a statement ? Never.”

“Whatever let's just- let's just work.” you mumble, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment and shame as you desperately try to move on.

He gave one last chuckle before getting back to work. He seemed to be reading a tome on the history of the masters of Zaun.

“About Tytos, I still think you've got that wrong.” he said as he read another page from the tome.

“I think I'm going to smash your face in.” you replied calmly without looking at him.

“As if you could reach me.”

“You know what-” you began, raising your voice.

However, somebody shushed you in the room, restricting you to remaining calm.

“Raising your voice in a library? You'd have to be a stupid fool.”

“Trying to contradict me when even Heimerdinger considered my answer excellent is not the wisest either.”

“Heimerdinger would tell a snail that goes slightly faster than the norm it's excellent. But maybe your low self esteem is just common sense.”

“Maybe my self esteem will just leave this library right now.” you say, crossing your arms on the table.

“And leave me to pursue this matter on my own? That wouldn't be very serious, miss number two.”

You sighed, getting back to work. Your blood was boiling in your veins just from sitting at this table.

“None of the books mention Tytos.”

“Since when do you trust Piltover books on the accounts of the history of Zaun ?”

Touché. He raised his eyebrows as if it were the only relevant thing you could have said.

“You never said where you were from, in Zaun,” he remarked.

You tensed slightly. “Why do you want to know that ?”

“We're making an exposé on Zaun, we're both from there, might as well just know it,” he said, raising his eyes to yours.

You watched him for a moment, he didn't seem to want to make a joke of you once your answer was out of your mouth. But in any case, you weren't going to give it to him.

“You wouldn't know,” you replied simply as you jotted down another date.

‘I'm sure that I-”

“You don't want to know.’ you said firmly, the seriousness taking over your face to assure him that this was certainly not territory he wished to venture into.

He frowned, confused. He seemed deeply intrigued by you, and that made you uncomfortable. Never before in your life had anyone asked you so many questions about yourself in such a short space of time. And so here he was, shaking up every one of your pillars like a bowling ball knocking over pins.

This one, however, was not about to give way.

You looked at your watch for a moment, sighing.

“Let's work for one more hour. We'll make a plan and subparts of what we'll talk about at the end of it.”

This time Viktor seemed to get the message: silence. 

You couldn't help glancing at him from time to time. You noticed the way his long fingers flicked across the pages, the way his eyebrows furrowed as he read, the way he rested his cheek on the back of his hand with a sigh as he read a boring piece of writing. 

Or when he would click his pencil for a moment to write something down, and his handwriting would lie gracefully on the paper, scratching the grain of the paper.

It was not without surprise that, once the hour had passed, there was hardly anyone in the library but the two of you. 

When you explained your plan for the presentation to Viktor, he agreed, simply giving a few perfectly critical and serious remarks without condescending to him in any way.

“Good. I think this is a good time to stop for today,” you said as you stood up, taking a stack of books in your arms.

All in all, working with Viktor like this wasn't so bad, when it was done in silence. But as soon as either of you opened your lips to say anything, politeness left the room in great strides.

You put each tome away in its old place, both of you taking your things, and left the library. The academy wasn't closed yet, and some people still had classes or were hanging around in the corridors.

You walked side by side, your pace the same as Viktor's. All the students seemed to turn around as you passed, your duo seeming like a pair of circus animals. 

You glanced at Viktor, who didn't seem in the least affected by this.

However, a trio of students were watching you with evil, mocking eyes. You couldn't help but tense up, however, when the one who seemed as tall as he was stupid remarked: 

“Die already, cripple. You're slowing the traffic.”

Your shoulders tensed as you walked, expecting to do what you'd always had to do here despite the taunts: ignore and move on.

But Viktor wasn't going to listen to you like that.

“Thank you for your advice, I'll try euthanasia once you'll be able to count higher than the number of butterfingers you've got.”

A few chuckles echoed in the corridor at his reply, but the young man seemed to be boiling with hatred. It was as you passed in front of them that, in a cowardly move, he kicked Viktor's cane.

He lost his balance, falling face first to the ground as his cane fell beside him. The air stopped for a moment with the shock of the gesture, your eyes shifting from Viktor on the ground to the idiot who had just knocked him over. Students knelt down beside him immediately to help him.

“Oops, my foot slipped. Sorry.”

But nothing, of course, conveyed any regret at this behaviour.

He turned his back and walked off with his group of friends. Your blood ran cold.

Quickly, you grabbed Viktor's cane, which was still on the ground, and made it whistle through the air before it struck the back of the student's knees. It was his turn to shrivel up on the floor, and he immediately turned to you, his cheeks red with anger.

“Oops, my hand slipped,” you said, glancing at the crutch for a moment before returning to him. “Sorry.”

You turned back to Viktor, handing him his crutch. He looked at you with fried whiting eyes, deeply surprised by your gesture without moving a muscle.

“You fucking slut…” you heard behind you.

But as soon as you turned around, a sharp blow hit you in the cheek. The force of it knocked you back two steps, a metallic taste spreading through your mouth. You brought your fingers to your lips, hissing as you touched them, your bottom lip burning. Bringing your fingers back into line of sight, you found them bloodied.

You turned to the student, his face far too satisfied for your liking.

‘’What a brilliant idea,‘’ you breathed as, in one swift movement, you struck his crotch with the crutch.

He bent over instinctively, gasping for breath, before you punched him right in the nose. He fell, cowering on the ground like a miserable insect.

"What's going on here?" asked a stern voice.

Madame Agrane, one of your teachers, came into the corridor. Her eyes fell on Viktor on the floor, your lip split, the student on the ground surrounded by his two friends.

“Everyone in my office, now.”

You pressed a bag of ice cubes to your cheek, sitting next to Viktor who was clutching his crutch in his hands. As for the idiot, he kept grumbling and giving you nasty looks.

"Can someone explain to me what happened for you all to end up in such states?" questioned Agrane.

You were about to start but the idiot beat you to it.

"Madame Agrane, I was just minding my own business in the corridor when these two pupils came up to me! One was hitting me with his crutch while the other was punching me. I don't know what I've done to deserve this.' He exclaimed theatrically, Viktor and you looking at him like the most ridiculous being to ever be.

If there was one thing that helped your reputation, it was that you were known as serious students, who didn't fall into the category of those who would start a fight in the corridors for no particular reason.

"That is far from the truth," Viktor retorted calmly. "He insulted me, then made me fall, and then...’

He seemed to be hesitating over his words, or at least looking for the right term. He turned to you, letting his eyes drift for a moment to your split lip, and then back to Madame Agrane's gaze.

"... My friend protected me."

Friend? the word made you clench your jaw, inhaling. It was just a lie, just a word brought to the front to give your teacher sympathy. No, he certainly didn't mean it.

The teacher looked at you, seeming more convinced by your story than the other. Noticing this, the student couldn't help but plead his own case: 

"Madam, these two students come from Zaun. The blood of violence will always run in their veins."

Agrane seemed to give you a new look, as if you and Viktor were ready to pounce on her like two wolves.

"Is this a joke? You started all this," you said, offended.

"Beating you up would have brought greatness to Piltover." he replied.

"Oh, look at you, attempting greatness! Pity it's just an attempt." you sighed, pressing the ice pack a little closer to your cheek to put out the fire your anger was beginning to spread.

"Madam Agrane," he continued, turning to her, "you know what my patron will think about this. Imagine his reaction when he will hear how you have treated his favoured student?"

You had no idea who his patron could possibly have been, but she didn't hesitate for a second to say: 

"Miss, you'll get an hour's detention for your violent behaviour in the corridors. I hope I don't have to catch you again doing such barbaric acts."

Your eyes widened just as much as Viktor's.

"What?! But he's the one who-" you tried, pointing at the idiot who was smiling victoriously.

"There's no buts about it. The discussion is closed. You'll have your detention period this Monday."

"Madam, I think there's been a mistake." Viktor began.

"Do you want to be given detention too, young man?"

Viktor remained silent, sighing before lowering his eyes to the ground.

"Good, see you on Monday, then."

The fool stood up first, walking past you with a foolish grin on his face.

"Bet it feels just like home to be in prison by monday, hm?"

Your lip hemmed in disgust, your nose scrunching up.

"Try what you've done just once more, and I'll personally make sure you have no offspring."

He looked slightly frightened for a moment, then frowned like a child before leaving the room.

You sighed, standing up. You wanted to get out of here right away, away from the horrible feeling of injustice in your heart, away from the word ‘punishment’ burning into your skin.

Your free hand instinctively came to rest on your shoulder for comfort, and you stood up to get your things.

“You didn’t have to do this earlier, you know.” Viktor said.

You sighed, walking towards the door. “Whatever, what is done is done.”

"Hey," Viktor said, standing up behind you.

You didn't even turn to him.

"Thanks, I wasn't expecting that at all."

You waited for something, for anything that would come after what he had just said, but nothing came. Your turned to him.

"Is that all? No remarks about how I'd have been better off hitting him somewhere else, or stupid sarcasm about my action?"

He seemed surprised by your reaction, his face puzzled and almost saddened.

"We're not friends, Viktor." you said, your face as cold as the ice pack on your cheek. "We're..."

But what were you apart from rivals? Two rivals working together to do a job that would rely on both of you, that wasn't really rivalry. It was camaraderie in a way, you were classmates, but friends?

You pursed your lips, a slight trickle of blood beading from them.

"See you next week."

Without further ado, you left the room. You walked down the corridors, the students staring at you like an alien. You were suffocating under all those sharp, curious, numerous stares. You pressed on, leaving the academy as quickly as possible.

Once outside, you took the first quiet alley you could find.

“Shit!” you swore, pressing your back against the first wall you could find.

You brought your hand up to your forehead, sighing until you almost felt your body slide down the wall, running your palm over your face in frustration and exhaustion.

You wanted to cry, the weight of everything feeling like it was zipping up on you like a body bag. You'd been stupid, acting on your emotions. You should have kept your head down, let the administration do its job, not invented a life of heroism trying to redress the balance that some fool had tipped.

You didn't even like Viktor, but you'd still jumped at the chance to do him justice. No, you didn't like Viktor any more than that.

But you respected him.

Could you be friends with him?

The question passed through your mind for a moment, but you ended up putting it out of your mind.

You let your head fall back against the wall. The thought of an hour's detention in your perfect record seemed to you like a thread sticking out of a beautiful dress, itching to be pulled on. You tried to console yourself, to come to terms with the fact that it was just another hour of extra study. But you couldn't help feeling heavy with pain.

Eventually you gathered up your things and walked home, hoping that the cool night air would help to quench the fire that was still boiling inside you. Winter was on your doorstep, and ready to complicate things.

✦﹒previous chapter 　　　　　　 ✦﹒next chapter

[apomaro-mellow]

Hot for Teacher(s) epilogue

Previously

"Do you think I'll make a good father?"

Steve looked up from his laptop at the question. Eddie was staring at the calendar on the kitchen wall, arms crossed. He turned his gaze to Steve when he took too long to answer.

"I don't know how to break it to you, but you already are a father. And a damn fine one at that."

"Well, Shawn's easy, you already did most of the training."

Steve snorted. "He hasn't even hit double digits yet. There's still plenty more training to go. And take it from someone who works at Puberty Central, it gets rough."

Eddie came behind Steve and leaned over to hug him from behind. "You think infants are easier than teens?"

"I think every age group has a unique set of challenges", Steve said.

"Spoken like a true educator."

--------------------------

Steve sighed as he finished turning down his room. Wrapping things up for summer always made him a little melancholy. But now that he was two months pregnant, there was an extra layer to it. Next year, he wouldn't be able to do this. If he was pushing it, he could stay in class until winter break. That might be too much for his body though.

He leaned back to crack his spine and put a hand to his belly. He was barely showing. It was possible to see a slight roundness from under his shirt though.

"Wait... you're pregnant?!"

"Dustin, why are you still here?", Steve tried to sound firm but he feared it may have come out as adoring. The few kids who had actually come on the last day of school were supposed to be in the auditorium, watching a movie.

"Mr. Clarke's letting us poach some stuff from his room he doesn't need anymore."

Ah, as Mr. Clarke usually did. Steve didn't even need him to clarify which 'us' Dustin meant. He had a crew he was pretty loyal to.

"Yes, Mr. Henderson. I'm pregnant."

"Does that mean you're not gonna teach us next year?"

Steve smiled at him. "It was already in the cards bud, I don't teach eighth grade."

"Yeah but I mean, you won't be here?"

He could sense the frustration in Dustin's voice and knew change could be hard. End of year always seemed to bring on big emotions, even if it was just moving from seventh to eight grade.

"I'll be here at the beginning of the year. But I'll have to get ready for this little scholar before you know it. And then there was the leave he got after having the pup. Still, their little bean was due in January, so Steve was sure he and Eddie could figure something out so that Steve didn't have to go too long without teaching while still getting some bonding time with his pup.

"You could've talked it over with your students first. I mean this seems like a pack decision", Dustin said, arms crossed.

"Sure kid. The next time I decide to have a pup, I'll run it through my students first."

"That's all I'm asking", Dustin said just as quick footsteps stopped to a skid and suddenly there wasn't one but a whole group of students in his doorway.

"Mr. H is pregnant?!"

--------------------------

Steve was fanning himself. It was July and he was trying to stand the heat for as long as he could, but it was getting to be too much. He turned to Eddie to complain to a sympathetic ear, only to see his mate looking at him with the most adoring expression.

"What?"

"You're glowing!", he gushed.

"I don't feel like it."

"Sweetheart, we can always head back inside. You don't have to fight the sun."

"I'm gonna be too big to feel like moving before we know it. Get ready to carry me everywhere", Steve said in a tone that suggested it was both a promise and a threat.

Eddie compromised by bring Steve another ice cold lemonade. Shawn was having the time of his life playing with the other kids as the neighborhood block party went on. He deserved to revel in the summertime just as other kids.

--------------------------

Hot summer days turned to warm summer nights and after a cold shower, Steve was ready to lounge in bed. And of course, be pampered by his mate. Eddie climbed in beside him and then slid down until he was face to face with Steve's bump. Eddie nuzzled it and kissed Steve all over.

It was hard to believe he was due in January. It felt like such a long wait and yet just around the corner.

"Have I told you lately how perfect you are?", Eddie asked.

"Are you talking to me or our little bean?"

"To you. And I think we can both agree she's a bit more than a bean now", Eddie said.

"'She'? You're taking Shawn's side now?"

"Gotta go with the winning hand. He was right about you and me. AND he knew how Charlotte's Web ended!"

Steve rolled his eyes. "Eddie, that movie is decades old. Plus you're the one who had a whole lesson on the life cycle of spiders."

"I'm keeping my stance. That boy knows what's comin'. And he knows you've got a little princess in there."

"If you say so", Steve chuckled.

"Which makes you a queen..."

"Mhm", Steve tried to look unaffected but his scent gave him away as Eddie removed his underwear. His body had taken on a slightly creamier scent. One that Eddie just couldn't get enough of. Especially at the source.

"And every queen needs a what?", Eddie prompted, pulling them both onto their sides, a position that was easiest, given how Steve was growing.

"Their throne", Steve finished, turning his head into his pillow as Eddie's mouth came upon him.

---------------------------

Steve was pretty used to being on the parent side of parent-teacher conferences. But it was Eddie's first time on this end of the desk, so he was a little nervous. He knew the third grade teacher well enough. And so far, Shawn hadn't come home with any problems.

"It's nice to meet you, Mr. Harrington. And good to see you, Mr. Munson.

"Mr. Reed", Eddie nodded.

"I'll cut straight to the point so that Mr. Munson can get back to his own conferences. I was a bit surprised at one of Shawn's assignments."

He pulled something from Shawn's folder. A drawing of the three of them, Steve's belly big and round, Eddie's hair all over the place, and Shawn with a huge smile. It was labeled too. Except-

"It caught me off guard that one of last year's spelling be champs would misspell a word."

'Me' was written under Shawn. 'Dad' was under Steve. And written under the drawing of Eddie was 'Daddie'. Once they saw it though, both parents sagged in relief.

"It's something Shawn started doing recently", Steve began to explain. "He still calls me Daddy and when we started to grow our family, he decided he needed a way to differentiate between the two of us."

"So I was christened 'Daddie' with an -ie. It's mixed with my name and I think that's incredibly clever, don't you?", Eddie asked.

"Oh!", Mr. Reed said when he realized. "Well that's different. -ahem- Moving on..."

------------------------------

"So how did this one compare to the last?", Eddie asked, wiping sweat off of Steve's forehead.

"Ask me again when I don't hate you for what you've done to me", Steve said, still feeling plenty raw from pushing another human being out of himself.

He was feeling much better when his pup was cleaned and and returned to him. His heart swelled and he cooed, welcoming his pup into the world. Shawn and Eddie had been right. He'd given birth to a beautiful little girl. Eddie couldn't believe how lucky he was to have been there for Steve when Shawn was born and now again for his own pup. The two of them were given time to bond with their baby before Robin brought Shawn in.

His eyes got wide at the tiny bundle that was swaddled up in Steve's arms. Eddie got Shawn set up in a chair next to the bed and showed him how to hold a newborn before letting him hold her.

"Meet your sister", Steve beamed. "Stephanie Rose Harrington."

Shawn's head snapped up. "You used it for a middle name?!"

"It's a good name", Eddie said. "Pretty fitting for our little rosebud." He was already thinking of where to get a new tattoo to commemorate her birth.

Shawn looked back down at his baby sister. Her ruddy cheeks, how everything about her was impossibly small. She yawned and suddenly Shawn burst into tears, prompting both of his parents to worry.

"Shawn, what's wrong?", Steve asked.

It took a couple of sobs for Shawn to calm himself down enough to speak well enough for them to understand. "I don't-hic-I don't want anything to happen to her!"

And well, that made Steve start to cry because he understood. Eddie grabbed Stephanie and handed her over to Steve, then he gathered Shawn in a hug, picking him up off his feet.

"I promise with everything I am, nothing ever gonna happen to her. Or to you. Not ever again."

Shawn's arms went around his dad as he let it all out. Steve wiped his tears and Robin waited for them to put themselves together again before making them gather for a family photo. Steve knew Eddie would do everything he could to protect their family. It was every omega's dream for an alpha to devote themselves like that. But even more importantly, Steve knew the danger would never come from within their home. And that meant everything to him.

--------------------

Linking this bc I used a few prompts from here.

[ismyteadoneyet]

Let's gooo (i haven't done a tag-game-thingy in a WHILE so it's about time I get back at it lol, thank you @squirrel-in-the-woods for the tag <33)

Last song: 'Sinner' by Deaf Havana ! as a recovering people pleaser, this song is such a delight because it gives me the vibe of "I'm beginnig my villain arc now !!1!1! I'm a MEANIE now !!! I'm setting BOUNDARIES And you can't stop me !!! 😤😤😤" even though that is probably not the actual intent. It's also the song I have assigned an OC of mine sooooo there's that too jsjsjdjs

(it is also funky af lol)

Currently watching: I'm incredibly bad at watching shows and movies ?? Dunno why??? But I watch quite a bit of booktube reviews and things and lately have been softly getting into drawing/art-related youtube videos I guess??? I watch a lot of random youtube essays too

Three Ships:

- I feel obligated to say Bree×Nick×Selwyn here from the Legendborn Cycle LOL. Any combination and/or mix of the three is fine with me, and I trust Tracy Deonn to make me cry of both happiness and heartache regardless of what ends up being the final endgame HSJSJD 😌😌

- Arlecchino×Furina from Genshin Impact, for the SOLE REASON of @draconicstella88888 's fanfic. I am completely unbiased here of course

- Larkin×William from The Legendborn Cycle. Have we had criminally few scenes of them together? Yes. Am I also a tumblr veteran, used to people shipping characters from completely different medias ? Also yes. I'm just gonna be thankful there is a GLIMMER of on-page chemistry between them before one or the other inevitably will probably meet their doom in the upcoming installments and I will stay delulu and happy until that moment arrives 😌😌 (but ofc, hopefully it doesn't lol)

Favorite color: i'm tempted to say "do you love the color of the sky?" because it's funny but also? Genuinely? Yes. But other than that, I seem to gather lavender/lilac/purple-colored things at an alarming rate it might also have to do with bts but we're gonna leave that can unopened okay lol

Currently consuming: behind the phone I'm typing this on is an unopened box of delicious-looking sushi and I am STARVING but I'm waiting for my parents to join me before I can dig in LOL 😭😭

First ship: how far back are we talking LOL? 💀💀 I'm gonna say Ten×Rose possibly? I don't think I got properly into shipping culture until my tumblr days and my superwholock era

Last movie: I rewatched 'Twilight' to get hold of a screenshot of the "this is the skin of a killer, Bella"-moment for a really silly Selwyn Kane cosplay and ngl, watching the movie now as an adult hits different in the absolute best way LOL

Currently working on: fanarts galore ! Finishing the BRICK that is 'Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell' (i am like 60 PAGES AWAY FROM FINALLY BEING DONE !! 😭😭 IT IS 774 PAGES LONG), about 4 different cosplays, and a story I hope to maybe grow into a proper novel one day, if I manage to treat it right hdjsjsj <3

Tags, (if you want to join!):

@draconicstella88888 @peanutbutter-nutella @chyuyuuz @nakaremfarlei @solovanmoln @sparrowandthesong @ficnoire2 @k0k0p3lli @totalpanik @knaveofpentacles

Tag game: tag nine people you’d like to know better.

Tagged by: @oneshoulderangel

Last song: At the moment, I have "Losing Your Memory" by Alan Star stuck in my head, which I suppose makes it my current song, not my last song. Hm. I get songs stuck in my head very easily, but the last one I had there for a significant amount of time was a mashup of different language versions of "Les Rois du Monde" for about a week. "Lehetsz Király", the Magyar version, is probably my favorite of them. It's worth a listen.

Currently watching: Normally, the answer would be "random mostly terrible old movies/shows" or "nothing much", but I currently have a hyperfixation on the musical Roméo et Juliette and have been watching it in multiple languages. (Thus, the song).

Three ships: This is hard. Maybe as a result of being on the ace and aro spectrums, I'm more likely to care about which characters are interacting than whether it's romantic or platonic. Here goes:

Kedivere/Bedikay. It can be romantic, platonic, or queerplatonic, but whichever way, I'm here for it. I probably spend too much time thinking about how in Cullwch and Olwen, when Cai gets mad at Arthur and marches out, Bedwyr stays behind, keeps acting like nothing's happened, and isn't the one to avenge Cai's death. The feeling of betrayal on both sides has a lot of unexplored potential. And the version where Bedivere dies and Kay fights to bring his body back safely while mortally wounded himself... And the version where Bedivere survives Camlann and Kay isn't said to fight in it, so they might be left together after their world has fallen apart...

Platonically or queerplatonically, Galahad and the Grail Heroine. I really like the tragic Grail Quest friendships, but I like theirs most, maybe because there's something weird and otherworldly about them both. I like it when characters are strange and endearing and doomed by the narrative.

Ever since reading John Matthews' retelling, which I read before the original, I've had a soft spot for Caradoc and Guinier. The Story of Caradoc is very disturbing, and I have some major qualms with Caradoc over a detail Matthews cut out, but all the same, there's a reason these two have the best track record with magical fidelity tests. Each of them would go to the ends of the earth for the other, and together, they're stronger than any curse.

Favorite Color: Blue, particularly royal blue and some teals.

Currently consuming: Black licorice with chocolate.

First ship: This is a hard one, since through elementary and most of middle school, I tended to go along with whatever I thought the author's intentions were and was more likely to unship something. The first non-endgame ship I got invested in was Sonya/Nikolai in War and Peace. I didn't like Nikolai, but Sonya did, and she was my favorite character, so I wanted her to be happy. The first non-canon couple I thought was meant to be together was also in War and Peace: Marya Bolkonskaya and Julie Karagina. My eighth grade self did not think their letters could be interpreted platonically. I still don't.

Last movie: If the musical doesn't count, the last movie I watched was Quest for Camelot, which was awful. Though not Robot Monster-level bad, Robot Monster has an elegance to its simplicity which Quest for Camelot lacks.

Currently working on: Various fics, most of them Arthuriana or CotRK-related (I am woefully behind on the Badfic Bingo), and (theoretically) an epic-style poem, though I haven't gotten much of it written for quite a while now.

Tagging: @gawrkin, @emperorcandy, @wildbasil, @gorewound, @knightsofsomethingorother, @ladyminaofcamelot, @tasosotaso, @amashelle, @gingersnaptaff (I have no idea who's been tagged so far, apart from the people on @oneshoulderangel's post, so I apologize for any multi-tags)

[youcouldmakealife]

SOTM: Luke/Andreas; wined and dined

For the prompt: Andreas and Luke meeting/hooking up the second time

I literally finished this before I realised you guys probably meant like, the second time they hooked up, not the whole second time 'round. Mea culpa, everybody. And for those who interpreted it the same way I did...you're welcome?

Andreas can’t remember the last time he was wined and dined.

Though maybe that isn’t the best way to describe it — Andreas has dinner meetings all the time, has sat beside clients at the best restaurants in almost every NHL city, sampled from the menus of half of New York's most exclusive restaurants. Always on the agency’s dime, of course, or his multi-millionaire client’s, or the teams they play for, or the teams who want to sign them.

There’s plenty of wine involved — though Andreas always restricts himself to a glass when it's business — plenty of dining. But a meeting’s a meeting, whether it’s in a conference room, patiently waiting for a GM who’s been around since there were still six teams in the league to figure out how to unmute his mic, or eating something exceptional at a Michelin Star restaurant.

So obviously that’s not what he means. It’s not that he hasn’t been dating either, though admittedly, he had less and less time to spare for it as he got older. And not that he hasn’t gone on dinner dates specifically, where he allows himself a second glass of wine, orders what he’d like, rather than ��what he’s having sounds good’, unless, Andreas supposes, it truly does sound good. So there has been wining and dining, in fact. Possibly even a surplus of it.

And yet.

At a certain point Andreas thinks he just stopped expecting romance. It wasn’t any sort of resigned, jaded disappointment at the dating scene. Not that it isn't a shitshow, but it's probably better here than just about anywhere else. More an acknowledgment that most guys didn’t seem to be looking for romance, at least the ones Andreas was dating.

And that was fine, because Andreas wasn’t really looking for it either. Romance was undeniably nice, but he worked long hours, put almost all of himself into his job, and what he had left didn’t require much more than good conversation and some companionship, a spark of attraction, mediocre or better sex. Romance might have come along down the line, but things didn’t tend to last long even when he did find someone who met his simple — yet almost impossible to find — criteria.

That one, he thinks has more to do with him than it does with them. Andreas’ career is one of those things that’s attractive in theory, but significantly less endearing when he’s slipping in and out of bed at all hours, constantly checking his email or ducking out to make a call, flying off to who knows where, sometimes with plenty of notice, sometimes with none at all.

Maybe his life just isn’t conducive to romance. He doesn’t like to think that, but there would be worse things, wouldn’t there? He has a job that he finds fascinating, a job that offers something different every day, a job that, incidentally, pays him more money than he has the time to spend. He could retire tomorrow if he wanted to, live the rest of his life in comfort, dedicate all his time to searching for true love, but why would he want to? It sounds excruciatingly boring.

So he works — he works a lot, works more than he should, at least according to everyone he knows, including Dave, the giant hypocrite — and he — well, he works. But it’s fine. Most people have to search for meaning in his life, but he has his. If anyone asks about it — and they all ask, except Dave, that gem of a fucking man — he says he doesn’t feel like he’s lacking anything. He’s not lying, either.

That doesn’t mean something doesn’t squeeze tight when Luke conveniently ‘happens to be in town’ — though if there’s any town that actually applies to, it’s New York — when he figures they should ‘catch up’. Even as he tells himself that he’s just catching up with an old flame, one who doesn’t even live in the same country as him anymore. Even as he tells himself once for old time’s sake, and then twice doesn’t hurt considering they’ve still got chemistry, then when it’s been three, four, half a dozen, and if Luke’s got a return ticket Andreas doesn’t know when it’s for, but it doesn’t feel like it’s any time soon.

Luke has always been a romantic. He’d deny it up and down if Andreas said it, and it wouldn’t even be a kneejerk macho shit — Andreas doesn’t think Luke even knows he does anything out of the ordinary. Andreas doubts he was thinking ‘I’m going to woo Andreas’ as he asked him out to dinner, not the first time, or the second, not when he came with a bag of groceries and a bottle of wine from a vineyard Andreas mentioned in passing, said he’d cook for him, laughing as he fought with Andreas’ temperamental bottle opener, scoffing when Andreas impatiently intervened before he could ruin a good bottle of wine.

Technically, he doesn’t even know if 'wooing' is Luke’s aim at all. He could just need the change of pace, miss the city, the speed of it, the convenience, and while he was here, Andreas was just as convenient as the rest of it — good conversation, good companionship, Luke more attractive than ever, the sex still fantastic. And they didn’t even have to get to know one another. What could be easier?

But Andreas doesn’t think so, at least not judging by the way Luke’s started looking at him.

Andreas doesn’t think anyone has ever looked at him like Luke does, the complete focus of it. Looking isn’t a strong enough word — it’s more like he’s taking him in, trying make sure that he gets every single detail correct, the way Andreas imagines a painter would gaze at their subject, a poet at their lover. Luke’s no poet, but, well — maybe he is, a little, minus the words. There’s something about the way Luke looks at the world. Something about the way Luke looks at him.

It used to unnerve Andreas, a little, especially because Luke wasn’t only looking at him like that over romantic candlelit dinners and endorphin fueled pillow talk, but also during the most mundane moments. Andreas would be scowling at his phone, pecking out an answer to a client who decided he urgently needed to discuss his contract on a Sunday morning, a full season before it expired, and he’d look up and there Luke was, visibly taking him in. Sometimes there’d be a little smile on his face — the moments Andreas let himself be a little cranky there often was — but often there wasn’t, just Luke’s eyes on him, taking him in like he was never going to see him again.

It was — a lot. Luke was a lot, almost from the very beginning. Andreas thought he was going to get a regrettable hook up out of things, and then he thought it was going to be a few of them, and it was like a switch was flipped, and Luke went from the hot, fun, surprisingly good in bed client Andreas had completely unprofessionally fucked — and not just once, but a few times, and then a handful — to even more surprisingly good company outside of bed, to something Andreas didn’t quite have a name for. Someone who was gone even more than Andreas was, someone Andreas started to miss when he was gone. Andreas was the one staying put, most of the time, but Luke was the one always watching him like he’d disappear the moment he closed his eyes.

The look hasn’t changed, and Andreas imagines it means the same thing now as it did then, Luke who doesn’t blink, Luke who jumps both feet first, Luke the romantic.

It doesn’t feel as overwhelming now, though Andreas suspects he’ll be spending some time thinking about just how quickly Luke was on board. How quick they both were — Andreas can’t pretend he doesn’t know what’s coming, what’s already here, can’t pretend that isn’t something he wants, when he could end things with a word.

But he doesn’t. This time Andreas lets himself look back, and when Luke catches him at it, he doesn’t let himself look away.

[yanderes-galore]

Fandom: Invader Zim

Character: Tak and Gaz Membrane (aged up)

Pairing: Romantic-Rivalry

Type of Fic: Concept

(Optional) Other info I should know: Gender-neutral human reader

Okay! I'm utilizing the college AU I set up in the Gaz concept for this. Tak returns to Earth for revenge on Zim... only to meet you and Gaz again.

Sorry it isn't that good... I ran out of ideas :(

Yandere! Tak vs Gaz Concept

Pairing: Romantic - Rivalry

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Manipulation, Jealousy, Stalking, Overprotective behavior, Kidnapping, Isolation, Dubious relationship.

You vaguely remember Tak from when you were young.

You had been friends with Gaz and Dib in school and were aware of the issues involving Zim.

However, like Gaz, you knew Zim wasn't a big issue.

If any Irken was, it was Tak.

Yet even then she was always more focused on getting revenge against Zim.

You never thought you'd see Tak again.

Years have passed since then... You even helped Dib and Gaz save the Earth from a Florpus Hole.

Now you're all in college, occasionally still having to tolerate Zim's stupid little plans.

Dib went into studying astrology and engineering for his major.

Gaz went into coding and video game development.

Meanwhile you're doing your own major with Gaz as your roommate.

You barely even thought of Tak, too focused on school and keeping Zim in check.

That is until you heard of news from Dib.

Turns out, somehow, Tak managed to find her way back to Earth to finish what she started.

Considering how Zim was still on Earth, it's expected you'd be dragged into Tak's return.

After all, the last thing you need is two Irkens fighting and causing chaos in the process while you study.

Tak is no longer here to destroy Earth... for the most part.

She mostly wants revenge on Zim, especially since he sent The Tallest into a Florpus Hole.

However, while Tak tracks down Zim...

She meets you, Dib, and Gaz again.

Ironically I feel Tak and Gaz have similar characters to one another.

Tak's disguise is even a goth girl, still just as advanced as it was years ago.

She probably sneaks into your college to spy on you since she recalls you and your friends dealing with Zim constantly.

Although, it appears she soon finds a new target to hunt the longer she's on Earth.

Gaz, as your roommate, is no doubt going to notice if Tak sniffs around somewhere she isn't supposed to.

Gaz has cared about you since elementary, she's getting quite tired of having to deal with supernatural threats hunting you or Dib down.

She's probably quite tired of Irkens as a whole by this point.

She already has to deal with Dib being obsessed with exposing Zim... even in college.

Now she soon realizes she has to deal with the opposite.

An Irken is obsessed with her roommate...

Honestly, it's pissing Gaz off.

Tak originally stalks you with the intention of getting info out of you.

You're with those Membrane humans, you should know about her target...

Yet Gaz keeps stepping in, eyes narrowed in a glare each time she sees Tak or MiMi.

Gaz already doesn't mess around when it comes to you.

You are either her crush... or just outright dating while in college.

Tak's just going to ruin everything in Gaz's eyes.

Especially if Gaz only recently got you to be hers.

Gaz, like any Membrane, has planned meticulously to make you hers.

She's lucky to be your roommate and your girlfriend.

She finally has you as hers... She's even gotten rid of people for you.

Yet now... Now Tak has decided she needs you?

These two are definitely fighting.

Tak's obsession may start as just needing info... but she realizes you're an... interesting human.

She has to blend in with the humans anyways...

Might as well make friends.

This often leads to Gaz and Tak confronting one another.

Tak still has little knowledge on human relationships.

She probably doesn't quite understand what's between you and Gaz.

Girlfriend...? Is it a special rank between humans?

Irkens don't really know how to show human love.

Or just... love.

To Tak, she just feels like she wants to claim/conquer you, since Irkens are used to that.

Is that what Gaz means when she says you're partners?

Has she... conquered you?

...

For some reason that makes Tak feel ill and a bit envious.

How strange.

So... Overall I feel the dynamic would be this...

Gaz is your overprotective girlfriend who is quite tired of aliens ruining her personal relationships...

While Tak wants to take you from Gaz in an attempt to under her strange fixation over you.

Tensions are high... you can sense it.

Gaz is rarely able to focus on her work for school.

She's also around you more often, usually on edge as she grumbles about Tak.

Tak is often either using MiMi to stalk you or sneaking into your classes to see you.

She feels oddly warm around you even if she sees most humans disgusting...

Maybe she's sick.

I can see Gaz spraying Tak with water or scaring off MiMi to keep the Irken away.

It's all an annoyance to Gaz.

Meanwhile, Tak simply sees it as a new goal while she tracks Zim.

Gaz is genuinely trying to protect you while Tak sees this as a game.

Gaz probably tries to keep you in your dorm to discourage Tak.

Yet if Tak tried to take you... Gaz is no doubt immediately tracking where you went with help from Dib.

I can sort of see things coming to a head where Gaz can't take it anymore and decides to try lethal force.

Not the first time she's done it... people are scared of her for a reason on campus....

Tak might try also since Irken have decent combat skills and weaponry.

Can I see them killing one another?

Yes.

Gaz may have more of an advantage due to Dib though.

Maybe Zim too, since Zim no doubt wants Tak gone.

Tak's smart though... she's going to wait things out and strike when no one's aware.

Eventually Tak will have you to toy with...

Irkens naturally have a need to conquer.

Tak's going to try and take you... Even if she has to kill your precious humans...

Gaz feels a similar way... She refuses to let Tak ruin everything.

One way or another, someone's ending up dead...

Leaving you to end up trapped one way or another, as this rivalry would also reveal Gaz's crimes to you.

[soulsalight]

Thancred breathes out on a shaky breath, the normalcy of them preparing food together and eventually sitting down at the table to eat helps to ease what lingering tension there was before. But Thancred still feels unsteady, head spinning with everything Hien tells him, body still tense in some places from all that transpired. He somehow set all the things he didn't know aside before. Even though he never assumed their situation to be exactly normal. It felt that way often enough since Hien fit himself so seamlessly into his life, but if today proves anything then that none of this is normal. it feels like denial now, not having asked anything, as if he tried to pretend he didn't know what Hien is until this point.

Or maybe it's something else entirely, something keeps tugging at him in the back of his mind, as if he's forgetting something important. When that doesn't help, he takes a sip of water and focuses back on on the food infront of him.

He is tempted to stop Hien there, to ask him to postpone any conversation about all if this. That is, until Hien tells him about werewolves losing their sense of self, going feral. It makes him uneasy in a way Thancred can't put into words. An odd sense of deja vu overcomes him for a moment, but he can't pinpoint why exactly. Thancred feels a headache coming on and briefly massages his temple in hopes of easing it.

Then, he looks at Hien, trying for a smile again, pushing the ominous sense of foreboding to the back of his mind. "So, you're feeling more yourself now? Less... wolf-ish?" His lighthearted tone conceals the fact that he also tries to not think about that first night, the fear, the smell of blood, the darkness. All of the sudden it sends a shiver down his spine in a way it didn't do back then.

What's wrong with me? Thancred thinks, and then shakes himself out of it in order to finish his plate. He sets it to the side afterwards, feeling... tired most of all. His thoughts are spinning with all he was just told, his shoulders are tense, his head still throbs slightly from earlier when it connected with the floor and even his bones seem to ache eith exhaustion now. He massages the bridge of his nose when the headache becomes harder to ignore.

"I... think I need to go lay down." He says then, figuring it might just be him crashing after the adrenaline from earlier is fading at last. "Maybe we should just call it a night here." It's a bit early by his standards, but at this point he is surprisingly okay with letting this day end as soon as possible, especially with this bone deep weariness he's feeling.

It's why when he looks at Hien next, his gaze holds a plea of his own, even though Thancred isn't aware of it himself. "Is that alright?"

Thancred is about to tell Hien that it’s fine, he doesn’t need to push himself unnecessarily, but something in his tone of voice makes him pause and reconsider. A covert plea to give him something to do, something mundane and maybe Thancred needs that, too. The fear and shock from earlier are not entirely overcome, he’s a lot more tense than he would like to be. Especially since it might seem like he’s feeling uneasy around Hien, which isn’t the truth at all. Today has just been … a lot. Thus finding just about anything to ask Hien proves difficult. His own thoughts are still all over the place, therefore they work in silence for a while before Hien speaks up again and prompts Thancred to actually think about putting into words what he has been curious about.

He checks the temperature of the oil, then puts the meat into the pan, watching it sizzle. “I … don’t know where to start.” He admits and keeps his attention on the meat in the pan, turning it over when once side is sufficiently cooked. He’s still gathering his thoughts, wondering where he should start, but in the end he just does.

He sighs and shakes his head. “Werewolves.” He mutters and he thinks it might just be the first time he actually utters the word in conversation. It feels odd, awkward, the term conjures up images of half human half wolf beasts, and doesn’t quite fit with the side of Hien Thancred has seen most often, tactile, gentle, downright cuddly, but remembering earlier has Thancred swallow thickly, even though he tries to mask it with a quip. “Just… how much of …you does the media get wrong? You… you’re not going to turn into some horror movie monster come the full moon, right?” He conceals his uneasiness with a small laugh, but the grip of his hand around the handle of the pan is tight and tense. He doesn’t want to be, but he can’t quite shake the worries of the day just yet.

It doesn’t help that Thancred’s own knowledge of werewolves stems near entirely from pop culture and more recently, from the very jumbled mess of sources from the research he did during the first few days after truly realizing what Hien is. He might as well try and verify some of the information he found and likely debunk a few others.

[thewalrusespublicist]

Hey, I've loved your insight on John and Paul's relationship after the split. Can I ask you a different question?

Namely, do you think Paul is autistic?

You don't have to answer if you don't like.

Hi Anon!

Sorry I’ve taken so long to respond to this one, I wanted to dedicate some proper time to it as it’s a more complicated one and I wanted to give it the thought it deserves. I’m sort of in the best and worst position to answer this. The best in the fact that I am diagnosed autistic (probably AuDHD but that’s a whole other thing) and present atypically (good eye contact, empathetic, have learnt to read people fairly well etc.) and in a way that many people don’t realise I’m autistic until they know me well or I tell them. However, that almost means I’m in the worst position because the possibility that I’ll potentially project traits onto Paul is much higher than the average person. But I’ll try to be as unbiased as I can.

To properly judge whether Paul is autistic you would of course need a specialist who can assess his behaviour in-depth so all of this is of course speculative. From my own-brand observations and perspective, I think I would be comfortable saying that there is a distinct possibility that Paul is neurodivergent. This could be AuDHD or just straight up ADHD or PTSD (there’s a lot of symptom overlap between the three and childhood ptsd leads to restructures in the brain). This due to the following traits that I’ve noted:

Inability to appropriately assess risk (posing lying half on a diving board over an empty swimming pool anyone?? And so many pictures of him perilously close to edges)

High need for stimulus

Perfectionist yet unable to finish things properly (Paul himself admits there’s albums that are clearly unfinished)

Trouble expressing himself

Constant fidgeting (Ringo said he was unable to keep still)

Hyperfixations that get in the way of other tasks

Intense procrastination despite periods of aforementioned hyperfixation (sorry George Martin no I haven’t done the entire score for a film until the last minute I’ve been hanging with John)

Synthesia

Potential hyper mobility (let’s just climb onto the packing in one step)

Maaaybbbeee potential co-ordination issues (man can’t really dance and when he learnt to ride he started cycling backwards) 

Rejection sensitivity

Rigid thinking 

Insensitivity 

Distracted focus (his dad talking about him watching television and doing his homework at the same time)

Tics and stims

A musical savant 

So there’s quite a bit there tbh when taken all together. That being said without proper assessment it would be impossible to say which of the three he would fall under, if any. Once again though, he shares traits that I recognise in myself and my neurodivergent friends and wouldn’t be at all surprised if he was. 

On that note, I hope you don’t mind me mentioning this anon but I think you’ve asked quite a few people this question on here? I’m guessing (again apologies if this is wrong) that you’re also autistic and relate to Paul in some way that is quite personal to you? I only bring it up as I’ve been there, being autistic is hard and a lonely experience at times and finding decent representation for high functioning autism is near impossible. I would say even if Paul is autistic or not, he’s still a great example of how having these traits in no way stops you from being loved, valued and even adored. Paul has lived an incredibly successful life partially because of his traits of neurodivergency, regardless of label that in itself is pretty great to see. So yeah whilst I wouldn’t want to put a label on it, I think he might be in our general camp and I’m really happy to potentially have him here. 

[lovelythethingsbrainrot]

"Ronan is worried. Declan is fucked."

-Notes for a multi-chapter Raven Cycle fic

[azaracyy]

a lesson on good karma digimon survive week 2024 day 4: supporting characters

[hamable]

Hhhh bnha 419… Deku has given this fight everything he has. What happens next is literally out of his hands.

[skrunksthatwunk]

i think i mentioned this a while back but im working on an "every kuwameshi" video right (yes it's ridiculous i know somebody take them away from me) and i just need to say im so fucking sick of editing the saint beasts arc </3 pls i love that one normally but this section of the video is like. 70% silent group shots it's so bad and not fun to watch or edit and i hate it :[

[icewindandboringhorror]

Hrmm... Revising my game and I feel like there's still sooo much writing left to do, for something that probably won't even amount to much, so.. I do want to narrow my focus more (especially given my health problems seeming to get worse/less energy the past few years), but I'm not sure how would be best to...

I currently have 5 characters as the Main ones with full planned questlines and such, with each character having 6 quests you can do for them. But I haven't really started the writing for the 5th main character. So then I was thinking, if I were going to write 6 full quests worth of content anyway... is it better to allocate that time on just doing a Complete 6 Quests for ONE single character, OR would it be better to do something like.. choose THREE side characters and do 2 quests for each of them? So that people have a wider variety to interact with and sort of sample around (of course with the idea that, once the first version of the game is released, IF people actually care about it enough to make it worth the effort, I would then add additional content to complete those 3 characters stories as well)

-

SO... If you were playing an interactive fiction sort of game centered around talking to & doing quests for a cast of characters (like there's no larger plot, more it's just about interacting with people, every character kind of has a self contained story, the focus is just learning about them and the world and exploring the area) --- Which would you rather have?

(and of course it would be stated up front which characters have only partial questlines, so people don't expect them to have full quests like the others and then get disappointed, or etc. etc.)

Basically, is it better to just focus in specifically on having one fully complete questline? Or for there to be a few stories that are not complete yet, but have more initial options available?

[unfortunatelyilikebnha]

Thinking abt kazuma,,, thinkng abt how he has silver eyes compared to kazumi’s gold,,, as if even kazuma’s character design is telling the world he’s in second place, & that he’ll never live up to his brother’s example </3

[salsflore]

[you-will-return]

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