No one ever called Bole by his first name without explicit permission. Marcus did, once, and ended up pinned against the wall by a snarling Bole. Sometimes he's almost tempted to do it again, just to have it happen again. Almost.
He doesn’t know what he wants, but he knows what he doesn’t want. He doesn’t want to die, doesn’t want to watch his friends die, doesn’t want to realise he’ll never play Quidditch again, even if they war would be over now, and most of all, he doesn’t want to be in love with Marcus Flint.
Marcus remembers a time when facing Oliver Wood meant trying to get the Quaffle past him. Now, standing here with their wands drawn on each other, he has to make a choice between the Dark Lord and the man he’s loved since he was thirteen.
For those of you who didn't know yet, I'm going to be doing something called the Death March this Friday, which basically means I'll be walking 100 km in 24 hours. And I'll need your support. text me, please. Encouragement, textslash, random insanity, whatever. If I have your phone number I'll text you back, as well. (Leena, Fleur, I've got both of yours, muah!)
And for those of you who'd like to be informed whenever I pass a checkpoint:
- Go here.
- Type "werkers" in the top box, clock OK.
- You'll be taken to a page with search results. Click the box in front of my name (Sofie Werkers, although there really should be only one), and click okay.
- On the next page, tick the boxes with the way you'd like to be informed of the fact that I've passed another checkpoint, fill in your email and password of your choice, and click next.
- On the next page, fill in your IM names etc. Click OK.
- Done!
- If you want to change your profile at any time, just go here.
Help me, Obi-Wan Friends list, you're my only hope
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I would really like for my labret to stop hurting. Ow.
One:
"I love you." Three little words, but they shatter him. "Don't. You don't even know who-*what* I really am." "I know what you're not: a Death Eater."Two: Footballslash! Yay!)
It only ever happens when they win; David will come to him after the game, eyes gleaming predatorily. Michael can't think of a better motivation to win.
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