#hellsite (unbearable)

[a-glorious-fuck-up]

I see people here going back and forth, defending the greens, defending the blacks, and I think you're missing the point.

Nobody in this family is freaking blameless in this. Everybody has a certain quota of guilt in the events that will follow.

Oh because Alicent didn't blame Rhaenyra for this and Rhaenyra isn't guilty of that. You're missing the point.

This is the story of a great house plagued from the inside out! From the politicking, from the blatant disrespect of natural order (uncles marrying nieces, siblings marrying each other, first cousins being betrothed to 'strengthen the blood and the bond between the houses'), from having allied to them beasts that could burn the entire world down on a whim. They turn on each other because, despite being a family, they treat each other as adversaries. They absolutely despise each other and commit atrocities just to get to decide who sits in a devil-chair.

It's pointless to point fingers and say x or y started the war, to say that the greens did x wrong and the blacks are the morally superior ones in the show is wrong.

They are all war criminals, they are all at fault here.

[hysieme]

Crazy for Palace 2 (subtitles by aphellion)

Everyone Want to Meet You BTS

[perculesspleen]

When I say t4t I also mean tumblr user for tumblr user, I can't date someone whose main social media is tiktok

[gardenruth]

Tumblr has spoiled me when it comes to social media. You can block tags, words, triggers, etc. It allows you to choose how your dash is sorted, who you see, and occasionally suggests content from tags YOU FOLLOW.

I caved and got tiktok a few months back, and I’m just wishing for these features on the stupid app. Why can’t I block tags or sounds? Why can’t I choose what I want and don’t want to see? Why is my timeline so fucked that it’s pushing content from April instead of giving me recent content from creators I actually follow? I know it’s there because I manually search for it.

Instagram isn’t any better. At least I can block sounds, but the suggested posts and ads are so overwhelming the app is unusable.

[carideatheecreative]

the twitter ripoff layout help

[itsjustpoopeh]

3, 8, 19

3. screenshot or description of the worst take you've seen on tumblr

"Keeley is a maternal figure for Jamie." my sibling in christ. what are you and your mama up to. those two FUCK and they LIKE IT. also Jamie already has a mummy. he never took her poster off his wank wall for fuck's sake she ain't a maternal figure for him (now she might be mommy buuuuut i ain't getting into alla THAT)

"Jamie and Georgie's interactions were borderline incestuous in Mom City." y'all can't talk about dismantling the patriarchy and toxic masculinity and turn around and call it "developmentally inappropriate" for a grown man to cuddle his mummy when he's upset and depressed. especially because i know, i KNOW y'all wouldn't have said that if Georgie was Dottie Lasso shaped. y'all didn't say that when Sam was cuddling with Ola. y'all said it because you turned that woman into a sexual object. unpack that shit

edited i forgot the cut lmao

8. common fandom opinion that everyone is wrong about

Jamie is a secretly self-loathing insecure mess. Did you watch the show? not once, not ONCE has Jamie demonstrated self-loathing or a lack of self-confidence. He had to learn how to not treat other people like shit, not how to hate himself.

Roy is a perfect uwu bean who has never been mean in his life ever ever. again. have you watched this show? in season one he was a whole 38 year old grown ass adult legend in his own time beefing with a fucking 23 year old whose best insult was calling him granddad. be for fucking real. and he didn't even try to captain that team until Ted jedi mind gamed him into it because he was wallowing in self-pity. i love him, but season one Roy was absolutely as unbearable as season one Jamie, the narrative just emotionally manipulated us about it differently. that's what makes him interesting. perfect soft uwu bean boy is BORING stop trying to convince me Roy is boring

Ted is depressed and suicidal and sacrificing his happiness in kansas. Shut the entire fuck up. That man was yelling about how homesick he was for kansas every chance he had for the entire run of the show. Also related is the "ted gave up his entire richmond family and support system to go back to kansas" hmm did he though? Realistically, did he really develop a close knit community and support system in richmond? other than the diamond dogs, whom he routinely ignored? all of his interactions with the wider richmond community (the pub, the shopkeepers, etc) were superficial. he never even learned to drive there. he never put down roots there and he didn't want to, because he wanted to go home to Henry, and he wanted to go home to KANSAS. don't even talk to me about the rebecca soulmates thing you can still be friends with people even if you don't live in the same country

19. you're mad/ashamed/horrified that you actually kind of like…

Nate/Jade. look, my feelings about nate are complicated because they dropped the ball on showing instead of telling, which is bullshit because nick mohammed woulda ATE. i subscribe to the theory that they had a much more expansive storyline planned for Nate and rethought it after being surprised by how vitriolic and racist the hate was after season 2. unFORTUNATELY, that meant they didn't close the loop on what they already did, and tried to fill the gap with a girlfriend, which is a trope i loathe. on the other hand, Jade is fucking awesome and i can't help liking them and the way she affectionately trolls him mercilessly. i'm not even getting into the idiots on this hellsite trying to insist that Jade's behavior towards him was racist. she's a customer service employee who's seen a million insecure men trying to play games in her face and she treated him accordingly until he quit it with his nonsense, and then she gave him a chance because Nate is actually lovely when he's squashing his tendency to be a vicious cruel jerk

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

I am on my knees, begging you all to please just be normal. I appreciate the excitement around season two, I really do, but the constant reposts of the same blurry BTS photos, ceaseless reblogs of your own posts in the space of a few minutes (???) and analysing every pixelated detail (it's not Ewan, it never fucking is) is making this hellsite unbearable to use.

Go outside and let the sun touch your skin for a little while or pour that nervous energy into something creative. The crumbs will come when they come, and I will want to murder you all with a hammer much less than I do right now.

[salembutnotthecat]

Novemetober (Rescheduled) | Day Nineteen

@monthofsick | day nineteen: sick in more ways than one

while scrolling through my blog, it appeared this fic got deleted from my page. I may have done it on accident or the hellsite may have had it for dinner.

regardless, i saved it offsite. so i went back into my notes, made a few edits, and figured i could reupload it here for this prompt.

i hope to get away from novak for a bit, but we’ll see how that goes.

If you would like to send a fic requests to help (or to get more novak content), PLEASE PLEASE DO SO!! Im begging for asks at this point lol.

tw for overheating, emeto, dizziness, migraine mention, fever

alt cw for novak’s daighter (4) being a little present toward the end*

*this is not a kink thing for me so i do not feel bad about it, but i know some people dont like that lol

The summer sun hung high in the sky as Novak stepped onto the practice field with the rest of the Mavericks for preseason training.

The air was thick with the promise of a sweltering day, and the temperature had climbed well into the upper 80s, with possibilities of maybe even reaching the 90s by the end of the day.

The team, accustomed to the usually mild climate, hesitated but eventually decided to train outside until it became unbearable. After all, it would be good practice if they ever played a game in a hot city.

Novak wasn’t exactly accustomed to heat, but usually the heat didn’t bother him. Granted, he was more used to the mid-80s and below, but surely this wouldn’t be too much more overwhelming. After all, it was only a few degrees.

He’s not so sure about that a few drills in. The sun is beating on the field, Novak can feel the heat prickling his skin.

As he’s getting ready to run through some passing drills, an unexpected wave of dizziness made him stop abruptly. The heat bore down on him like an invisible weight, and he feared based on how dizzy he suddenly felt, and the general poor condition of his stomach at any given moment, nausea would follow.

As soon as the mere thought hit him, he took an elastic off his wrist, tying back his sweat soaked ash blond hair.

Landon noticed immediately. Novak only ever seemed to tie up his hair if he wasn’t feeling well. Something about overstimulation, Landon remembered being told.

"You okay, Novak?" he asked, concern etched across his face.

"Yeah, just hot as hell. I'll be fine," Novak replied, attempting to brush off the worry.

Henry chimed in, seeming to agree, “Man, it's getting pretty brutal out here. We should've trained indoors."

As the team continued their drills, the heat intensified, and Novak's condition worsened. The nausea became unbearable, and he couldn't shake the dizziness.

Novak's steps became unsteady. Nausea churned in his stomach. He felt dizzy, or like he was going to pass out.

Well, maybe pass out. But he would definitely puke first. He could already taste the acid in his throat as he anxiously reached up by his neck and started fidgeting with his locket.

Landon’s hand is on him. Novak realizes Landon said something to him. Or maybe was trying to say something. But Novak didn’t catch it.

“God, you’re burning,” Landon commented. That Novak heard. Landon tried to say something else, but Novak didn’t catch that.

Novak’s stomach lurched, as if to accentuate his suffering. This heat was miserable and every part of him was feeling it now.

“Hang on,” Novak said.

Taking a deep, shaky breath, Novak lifted his helmet with one hand, trying to find relief from the oppressive heat. Beads of sweat dripped down his face, his skin uncomfortably warm to the touch. The world around him seemed to blur as he fought against the waves of dizziness.

"Shit, Novak, you sure you're good?" Landon's voice cut through the haze, concern evident in his tone as he caught up with the struggling linebacker.

Novak mumbled a response, his words lost in the oppressive heat. Landon leaned in, trying to catch what Novak was saying.

“What did you say..?” Landon asked, “I’m sorry I couldn’t-“

It was sudden. A split second, but to Novak it felt like an eternity. Novak's stomach revolted violently. Novak clutched his helmet tightly with one hand, trying to keep control, and trying to keep it away from his face, just for now. The other hand stayed clasped around the locket.

"Oh shit, you're going to be sick," Landon exclaimed, helping Novak pull off his helmet, holding it, before quickly taking a step back, a mix of worry and realization on his face.

At that moment, Novak succumbed to the overpowering nausea. He doubled over, emptying the contents of his stomach onto the grass. He heaved, hard, purging what he ate for breakfast and everything he drank leading to this moment.

Landon stayed back as Novak threw up again. He was trying to be mindful of Novak’s boundaries.

Novak vomited again. This time he was more hunched over. Landon could only watch as Novak’s knees buckled and he fell to the ground.

Novak felt so wildly sick. He threw up again, that wave more abundant. He hated that this happened. Part of him thought he heard another player puke too.

“Landon, go deal with Dominic, okay?” Its Jayden. Dominic must have also thrown up.

Jayden knew things that Landon didn’t when it came to Novak being sick. When it came to Novak vomiting. So, Jayden seemed to think the swap was better.

As Novak stood back up, albeit quite shakily, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, Jayden offered a sympathetic look.

"Alright, man, let's get you inside, the whole team at that,” Jayden said "This heat's no joke today."

Novak nodded weakly, the remnants of nausea still lingering.

“I think I want to have Daphne look at you,” Jayden said, “That looks like a lot of vomit.”

Novak nodded. Novak still felt too hot, too nauseous. Jayden took him to Doctor Collins’ office.

“Hey, Daphne,” Jayden said, “Heat’s kind of killing Novak the hardest here.”

Novak felt like he was going to be sick again. He couldn’t speak, couldn’t function.

Dr. Collins immediately looked concerned. "Bring him in, let me take a look."

Landon ushered Novak into the office, where the air conditioning provided a welcome reprieve from the outdoor furnace.

Novak, feeling the cool air on his flushed skin, still couldn't shake the persistent nausea. He felt dizzy, shaky, and ready to once more start vomiting.

"Sit down, Novak," Dr. Collins instructed. She probably saw it on his face.

Novak nodded weakly, settling into the chair, his helmet still clutched in his hand.

He felt a sense of relief sitting in the air-conditioned room, but the nausea continued to churn within him.

Dr. Collins assessed Novak's condition. "How are you feeling, Novak?"

The linebacker attempted to speak, but the words caught in his throat. Instead, he doubled over, emptying the contents of his stomach into a nearby trash bin, the sounds echoing in the small office.

Dr. Collins, unfazed by the turn of events, continued her examination, her focus on ensuring Novak's well-being.

After a thorough assessment once Novak was done puking, Dr. Collins sighed, "Novak, I think it's best if you go home and rest. The heat has clearly taken a toll on you. Stay hydrated, and let your body recover."

Novak, feeling drained and defeated, nodded in agreement.

-

Novak stumbled back into the living room from the bathroom, his face pale and beads of sweat lining his forehead.

The few hours at home hadn't brought the relief he hoped for, and the persistent nausea clung to him like a stubborn shadow.

Marina looked up from where she was seated in the chair diagonal to the couch, concern etched on her face.

Novak sat back down on the couch, leaning back against it. He felt horrible. His stomach was a mess. Everything felt bad.

"Is it wrong you ask how you are feeling, sweetheart?" Marina asked, reaching out to touch Novak's forehead. “Goodness, your skin is still so warm. It’s like a stovetop.”

Novak winced at the touch, "Do you want the truth or..?”

Marina rolled her eyes, “The truth, słoneczko.”

Novak sighed, “Honestly… still like… really sick to my stomach? I don’t really know why though, mamoń."

Marina's worry deepened, pulling her hand away from his face. “You're running a fever, Novak. This isn't just from the heat. I’d think by now you’d be cooled down."

Novak sighed, sinking more into the couch, beads of sweat forming on his forehead.

Elya, his four-year-old daughter, played with her toys on the floor, oblivious to her father's discomfort.

"I thought I could tough it out," Novak admitted, his voice strained. "But it's not getting any better."

Marina fetched a damp cloth and placed it on Novak's forehead, a feeble attempt to offer some relief. "You need to rest, sweetheart. Let your body recover. Maybe we can call Willow, get her opinion?"

Elya, sensing something amiss, looked up from her toys. "Daddy, why are you sick?"

Novak managed a weak smile, "Just a little under the weather, princess. It’s really hot outside, you know. Daddy will be fine."

The answer seemed to satisfy Elya. But not so much Marina.

"You've been vomiting for hours, Novak,” Marina said, “That’s not normal. Even for you.”

Novak shook his head, "Mom, it's just the heat. I'll be fine."

But as he spoke, another wave of nausea hit him, and he froze in place for a moment.

Swallowing back acid, he tried to piece together if he could make it back to the bathroom or…

“Are you going to be sick again?” Marina asked, crossing her arms.

“What? No…” Novak forced out, “Just… dizzy.”

“You always get dizzy before-“

Novak nodded, hastily reaching for the trash bin Marina brought in the living room in case this happened.

“I’m calling Willow,” Marina said, getting up off the couch and grabbing her phone.

"Mom, I just need some rest," Novak insisted when it was over, after finally coughing up mere saliva. Which, to him, was a good sign at least.

“Don’t care,” Marina said, “You won’t get checked out yourself. I’m having her come to check you out.”

“Mamoń, Willow’s a lesbian,” Novak said, chuckling softly, “She won’t be checking me out.”

“Novak Aleksander Daskalov,” Marina said, “That is not what I meant and you know it.”

“What’s a leban?” Elya asked, her curiosity unaffected by the very bad state her dad was in.

Novak wanted to laugh.

“I’ll tell you when I feel better, okay?” Novak said.

Elya nodded. A little too excitedly for Novak’s taste. But he found it quite endearing regardless.

As the call connected, Willow answered on the other end. Marina quickly explained Novak's symptoms and the ongoing distress.

"Willow, it's Marina. Novak's not doing well,” Marina said, “He was overheated at practice, but he’s been home for six hours and he’s still vomiting and feels warm to the touch.”

“Hm,” Willow hummed on the other side of the line, “Could be a stomach flu, I’ve seen a few cases this week.”

“That’s what I thought,” Marina said, “Naturally he wasn’t listening.”

Willow giggled softly, “Sounds like Novak. I’m finishing my shift soon. I'll come over and take a look at him when I get off."

Marina hung up, returning to Novak's side. "Willow is on her way.”

-

As the evening sun cast long shadows, Willow arrived at Novak's home. Marina greeted her at the door with a mixture of relief and concern etched on her face.

"Willow, thank you for coming. He's in the living room," Marina said, leading the way.

Willow entered to find Novak laying on the couch, a damp cloth on his forehead, covering his eyes. Elya was sitting nearby, watching her father with a worried expression.

“When did the headache start?” Willow asked. No introduction. No greeting. Just right into it.

Novak groaned, “Like an hour ago…. Well, it’s been hurting since practice but it got more migraine level in the last hour…”

"Besides the headache, how are you feeling?" Willow asked.

Novak managed a weak smile, taking the rag off his head and forcing himself to sit up, “Not great. Dizzy, nauseous. Just all-around miserable."

The change in position made the room spin worse, Novak grabbed the back of the couch.

“Emphasis on dizzy…” Novak admitted.

Willow went to work, checking Novak's vital signs and asking detailed questions about his symptoms. Marina filled her in on the events leading up to his current state, emphasizing the persistent vomiting.

Willow, maintaining her professional composure, finished her assessments. "Your temperature is elevated, and your blood pressure is a bit low. Combine that with the vomiting, and it seems like you've got a stomach virus on top of being overheated. Dehydration might be playing a role too."

Novak nodded, grateful for the clarity. "Do I need to go to the hospital?"

"I don't think it's severe enough for hospitalization at this point, but we need to address the dehydration," Willow explained, reaching in her bag, “Hey Marina, can you grab a bottle of water?”

Marina nodded, going into the kitchen and grabbing one. Willow pulled out an electrolyte solution, mixing it in the water once Marina handed it over.

“Drink that, and…” Willow dug in her bag, pulling out four more, setting them on the coffee table, “There’s some extras. Also plain water is good, the solution is just to help rehydrate you faster. If you puke it back up, make up a new round.”

Novak took a few sips, feeling the cool liquid providing a welcome relief. Willow continued.

“Rest is crucial, and you should continue to hydrate.” Willow said, “If the vomiting persists or if you can't keep fluids down, we might need to consider hospitalization."

Marina, hearing the diagnosis, visibly relaxed. "Thank you, Willow. We appreciate your help."

As Willow provided Novak with instructions for medication and hydration, Elya approached her father with a stuffed animal in hand. "Daddy, this will make you feel better."

Novak chuckled weakly, taking the stuffed animal from his daughter. "Thank you, princess. It's already helping."

Willow smiled at the heartwarming exchange between Novak and his daughter. "A little extra comfort is always good for healing."

After ensuring Novak had a plan for the next few days, Willow prepared to leave. Marina walked her to the door, expressing her gratitude once again.

"Thank you, Willow. Your help means a lot to us. I'll make sure he follows your advice."

Willow nodded, her caring demeanor evident. "Keep an eye on him, and don't hesitate to reach out if anything changes. If I don’t answer, call Vanessa, she could help too."

As Willow left, the living room settled into a quiet atmosphere. Novak, still feeling weakened by the illness, was once again laying on the couch. But this time, Elya nestled beside him, clutching her stuffed animal.

"Daddy, are you going to be okay?" Elya asked, her innocent eyes filled with concern.

Novak ruffled her hair gently, smiling. "I'll be just fine, sweetheart. Thanks to you and Grandma taking care of me."

Marina glanced at Novak with a motherly concern. "You heard Willow. Rest is crucial. Let your body heal."

Novak nodded, “Can you get my phone, mamoń, I’m going to call coach, tell him I can’t go tomorrow.”

Marina smiled, “That might be the most sensible thing you’ve said since you got home, słoneczko.”

[animentality]

As much as I generally like Tumblr more than say, Twitter.

Or even you know. The disgusting hive mind that is reddit or TikTok.

The terfs of Tumblr are the most unbearable, self righteous, perpetually angry, chronically online group of misanthropes you'll ever encounter.

Like Twitter is full of hate, in every flavor, but it's muted. It's like some insane opinions, some more moderately insane opinions, and then some truly batshit, how did anyone ever think of that stuff.

But here. You say like, trans people are literally just people, and then some radfem terf tribal leader comes out of nowhere with her army of frothing attack dogs with mouths full of rabies and they co opt entire posts.

They attack everything you say, and then things you don't say, accusing you of being a misogynistic porn lover or a tranny or a man masquerading as a woman or a self hating misogynist woman.

And it's like oh wow.

There is a reason Tumblr was and still is called hellsite.

It may be gayer here than most sites, but your main enemy is so uniquely Tumblr that it becomes unbearable and horrible in its own flavor.

I have had some asshole conservatives on my posts. I have had some incels saying some stupid shit. But they get laughed at and bullied normally.

But here? Well shoot. All it takes is one annoying terf whose entire life mission is being on Tumblr, preaching the words of pastor bill in the form of gender politics.

And then her squadron of piecemeal worms come out of the dirt or nearby shit hive where they live and start gnawing at flesh like the ravenous hordes of cannibals they are.

It'd be embarrassing if it wasn't so sad.

What do you think you're doing, anyway? Advocating for women's rights from the comfort of your armchair? Are you actually helping women, are you supporting domestic abuse charities, are you volunteering at battered women shelters, are you going outside even once or twice to discuss real systemic issues that affect women, or are you just a spiteful, angry, misanthropic, jaded loser who spends all their time being angry and going on witch hunts and spewing venomous bile online at strangers?

You know that neo Nazi fuck, Andrew Anglin, used to be a hardcore liberal who liked trolling the Westboro baptist church?

I suspect that most terfs don't really have a morality behind it, you're just a re vamped version of anger addicted. You like to bully and belittle and deride, but you've grown up on movies that have hammered in just how much bullying is bad. So you need a different way to bully, a liberal way to bully, and look who it is!

A catty group of popular white girls with the southern white woman tactic of weaponizing victimhood. Your true people. White recognizes white. You think your righteous rage is fair and just and liberal and you're nothing like those chauvinistic sexist patriarchal neo Nazis?

Lol.

First off you support neo Nazis far more than you'll ever support the LGBT community or even women. Second, you might as well join the neo Nazis since your definition of a real woman is just a patriarchal depiction of the proper biological breeding slave with a vagina and child bearing hips.

Again. It would be embarrassing, but the saddest thing is you can't even see just how embarrassing you are.

[modernvintage]

If this hellsite ever goes down I dunno what I’m gonna do bc everywhere else has sounds and people and is unbearable

[nalyra-dreaming]

I thought the fact that we've been talking about ep 5 for half a year straight was bad, but now I see that the Marius discourse is going to be unbearable.

He's a main character, his story is important to the narrative, he's already been named in the show, he's going to be here for several, several seasons. Hell, if you believe the rumors, he's already been casted and is walking around Prague atm!

The trend of everyone on this hellsite feeling like they have to say that they hate him as a disclaimer before even uttering a word about Marius or the possible Justin Kirk casting is really really weird and performative and the irony of having "this is the Bad One, we don't talk about him" when we are discussing THE VAMPIRE CHRONICLES is driving me up the wall!

I don't quite get it either.

I mean, Marius has been a character in the show from episode 2. Not directly, no, but the painting on Armand's wall holds so much meaning...

Of course Marius would be in the show, and a main player, too. He is the one who keeps Those Who Must Be Kept?! (among other things)

*shrugs*

I think Justin Kirk will definitely have the range to do him justice. It's a difficult character, and he has his work cut out for him. I do hope we get to the rumored season 4 and 5 (and further^^).

[v-arbellanaris]

there's a very specific set of people on this hellsite who Love to act like people with ANY strong fandom opinions or hcs are Less than them (stupid, immature, volatile, delusional, Enjoying Fandom Wrong™, etc) but then will get pissy when other people have fandom opinions that are different to how THEY'RE interpreting canon. and i want those people to know that i think they're way more pretentious & unbearable than fans genuinely just vibing on their own w their interpretation of canon

[corndog-patrol]

OK SO I was following you on Instagram (derogatory) for the longest time and only just got on this hellsite a few days ago… I didn’t even know you were on here but now I’m so so glad! You really inspire me, I might try to draw comics of my own one of these days <3

ahhhh thank you so much!!! i abandoned my insta a while ago since the platform was kind of unbearable to use 😂 i wish you good luck in all your comic making endeavors! 💞

[welcome-to-latveria]

The secret of this hellsite is once you're here you can never leave

No bcos literally... every other site is unbearable to me

[gerudospiriit]

[And last, but not least, number three. I really love taking the time to format things just for this hellsite to say no for what seems like no reason.

Enjoy it though!

Translation note: valaki voe: stupid/foolish/annoying man]

Ganondorf

"You're just making the trip home more unbearable by not talking to me."

Nabooru prodded the fire to life with more aggressive prods than necessary. The flames illuminated the Gerudo King setting up a tent, his thick brows lowered and jaw tight. Both from annoyance at her and the task he busied himself with.

"I have nothing to say to you," he rumbled before cursing under his breath and deeming his work good enough. "And before you try to say anything to me, I don't want to hear your excuses."

Nabooru clamped her mouth shut and growled. But her silence only lasted seconds. "You don't even know what happened and this is how you're going to treat me?"

"I saw enough to know what happened." Ganondorf sat across the fire from her, but shifted his body sideways to avoid the heat of her glare that far overpowered that of the flames between them. "With that childish stunt you pulled, you could have jeopardized any chance we had of working with Hyrule. Lord Enzu was one of the few people halfway sympathetic to our plight."

"Okay, mister all-knowing," she spat. "If you're so smart, tell me what you think happened last night. Go on. I can't wait to hear this."

Ganondorf's amber eyes narrowed further, the fire exaggerating the flash of anger in them. "Because that scene was so difficult to decipher, Nabooru." He rolled his eyes and picked at dirt beneath his fingernails. "Enzu said something you didn't like, probably something insignificant and harmless that you misinterpreted, so you lost your temper and threw your drink in his face. How close am I?"

Heat surged into Nabooru's cheeks. She jumped to her feet and momentarily considered kicking a rock at him. He was, of course, half right. In her exchange with Lord Enzu, he had indeed uttered plenty she didn't like and she made it apparent. But Ganondorf's reaction to it, his assumptions that she lacked any sort of control of her temper in such a tenuous situation, that she would react as she did over an uppity jerk making a meaningless comment insulted her far more than Enzu's misstep. On top of his disinterest in allowing her to tell her side of the story and why she reacted the way she did, his retelling of the events and the assumptions he supplied suggested he didn't trust her. Saw her as a hindrance. An unruly child cavorting around while the adults discussed important matters. It infuriated her.

"Is that what you think?"

"I wouldn't have said it otherwise, Nabooru."

"You're so...ugh!" Her yell sent a flock of birds likely trying to settle in for the night skyward from a nearby tree. Exasperated and hurt, she balled her hands into fists at her sides. "Then if you think I would react like that to something so insignificant and hurt our chances of helping our people over nothing, maybe you should find yourself a different second in command!"

His gaze snapped to her again from his hand. Good. She had his attention. "Maybe I'm not as cut out for this job as we thought if I'm expected to allow these people to disrespect me and you and our people and just giggle and tell them how clever they are! And then to have you disrespect me on top of that? To take his side without even knowing what he said? I won't do it, Ganondorf. I can't do it."

Silence stretched between them, and her heart fluttered with anxiety. Though she spoke out of anger and did not want to relinquish her position, she meant every word. She straightened her spine, and after a few drawn out moments, she deemed his lack of response answer enough. Whipping around, she marched toward the tent.

"What did he say?"

She paused, half stooped and the flap pulled open. She glared over her shoulder. "Do you care? Or are you just trying to appease me so I don't leave you with a lesser option for your second?"

His nostrils flared, and he gripped his knee, his veins bulging on top of his hand. "I care," he iterated slowly, his tone barely containing his clear aggravation with her snotty remark. "I can admit that perhaps, in my concern for future dealings with our neighbors, I may have been a touch too hasty in my judgement of the situation if it has you willing to rescind your position."

She released the flap and turned to face him, hands resting on her hips. With such a formal response, she wanted to further irritate him. See how much of a rise she could get out of him for not seeing the error in his treatment of her. It also brought into question his sincerity, but he needed to know just what their oh so gracious neighbors thought of them. How far their respect for them really went.

Nabooru strode back to her abandoned seat and crossed her legs. Ganondorf faced her fully now, his attention undiverted and his visage settled into one of concern rather than the sarcasm of moments ago. Satisfied, she rested her hands on her knees and maintained a locked gaze with him.

"He called me a whore, Ganondorf." His eyebrow rose, and she pushed on before he could interrupt. "Before you tell me that's nothing new no matter how disgusting and improper for a man of his station, it wasn't just that."

Her fingers curled into her palms on her knees. Her stomach churned at the mere memory, the same rage returning at the man's audacity in his assumptions, let alone voicing them. "He told me that he knew the 'truth' about us, that calling me your second in command was your way of covering up the fact that...that I'm just another play thing from the harem he thinks you keep. That you would never allow a woman to truly have any hand in leading our race." Bile rose in her throat and she grit her teeth. "He wanted to know how he could get a harem of Gerudo of his own, or at the very least the night with me in his bed."

Ganondorf stared at her through the flames, the shadows on his face darkening. He remained silent, the cogs turning behind his amber eyes. Nabooru was unsure he saw her at all in that moment, and the quiet unnerved her.

"It was an insult. Not only to me and his disregard for the hard work I put in my whole life to earn this position in suggesting I'm little more than your favorite whore and unfit because of my sex, but in the fact that he suggested you use your status as king to woo any Gerudo you want to your bed when I know you're above that as well as suggesting you see women as lesser even though your entire tribe is made of them. He disrespected our people and way of life as a whole with his disgusting fantasies about us."

Finally, he nodded. Rising to his feet, he paced the length of their camp once, twice, then stopped, twisting back around to glance at her. "I see," he rumbled. His chest swelled with a deep inhale and he released an aggravated sigh. "Then he deserved your wrath."

"He's lucky I didn't do worse," she scoffed. “I had a dagger on me.”

Ganondorf traipsed to her side of the campfire and lowered himself down next to her. He traced the seam of his trousers, tugged at a loose string. He then found her gaze again. "I apologize, Nabooru. I am...still learning how to navigate my diplomatic responsibilities in our precarious position. But, I should have allowed you to share your side of the story rather than assuming I understood the full context. We should be conveying a united front as king and his second, and my lack of fairness in that moment damaged such an image."

Sliding her knees up to her chest, she wrapped her arms around them, toes digging into the fire-warmed soil. "I forgive you." She chewed her lip. "And I suppose I could have...handled it better. I'm sure it won't look great for the others that saw it, and that pile of steaming leever dung is likely spinning it as far toward his favor as he can manage. As your second, I'm supposed to make things easier for you, not more complicated."

"Perhaps." The hint of a smile curved his lips. "But you make a fair point: it is far too much to ask my fiery desert rose not to stand up for herself and put miserable men like Enzu in his place. It was not my intent to make you feel as though I expected you to take such insults lying down. To some degree, it may be time I took a page from your book in that regard."

"I guess we're both learning."

Shifting closer, she leaned into his side, resting her head against his arm. He scooped his other arm beneath her legs and easily deposited her on his lap instead, arms draped around her and giving her a near bruising squeeze. She chuckled and rested the side of her face against his chest. His heart beat its steady rhythm against her cheek, and she relished in his natural warmth. She inhaled his scent, an earthiness mixed with some spice that she had grown to adore.

She felt the press of his lips on top of her head and she tilted her head back. "If you kiss me properly, maybe I'll reconsider letting you sleep in the tent with me."

Ganondorf's brow furrowed, a fiery eyebrow raised. "Reconsider? I don't think you have much say in who sleeps in the tent when I set it up."

"Of course I do," Nabooru retorted, mischievous grin on her lips. "You ignored me all day and you were a jerk last night. Just because I was a little impetuous for good reason doesn't add up to me sleeping with the beasties."

The king rolled his eyes, but caught her chin in her hand, thumb grazing her bottom lip. "Stubborn. If you didn't have me so charmed…"

His threat went unspoken in favor of a peck on her lips. Then another soft, lingering kiss. When he pulled away a second time, Nabooru reeled him back in with a firm press on the back of his neck, fingers weaving into his hair as she hummed her appreciation of the deeper, more passionate kiss. The way his hands roamed her waist and forced her closer, pressing her body as firmly to his as could be managed in their current arrangement.

Nabooru pulled away at last, earning her a nipped bottom lip and a followup press of his lips to her temple. She smiled and squeezed his shoulders before settling back into a more comfortable position on his lap. "Mm, alright. That's good enough I suppose. You've earned your place in the tent with me."

She felt his smile against the side of her head, and his chuckle reverberated through her entire being. "Just in time, too. It feels damp suddenly. Or maybe it's just you."

His meaning escaped her for a moment. It dawned on her and she choked, squeezing her legs together instinctively. "Why do you have to be gross?" she hissed, elbowing him in the belly. It only deterred his booming laughter for a second which served to heat her face further. "You're insufferable. And I'm taking your tent privileges back for your stupid joke."

Ganondorf squeezed her again and nipped at her earlobe, laughter fizzling out to a low chuckle. "It's worth it to see the look on your face and your cute pout."

She mentally cursed how her lip poked out further, though she turned her head to hide it. "Valaki voe…"

"I love you too, Nabooru."

[professional-idiocy]

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