#Mainly get all the medals

[shinysamurott9]

Here's a fun fact about Pokemon Black and White 2. The memory link function allows you to unlock a number of in game events, such as the flashback cutscenes, N's pokemon and special battles with Cheren and Bianca. These events actually reflect your playthrough in the file that you linked with, Characters will use your actual name from that file, Cheren and Bianca will have teams that match the starter you picked there, it's really neat.

One thing you may not know gets reflected is the awards that get placed in your room. If on the BW1 File you linked with, you cleared any of the super subways or earned either of the pokedex diplomas, those will actually appear in the Nuvema Town House in BW2. It's a really neat feature of Memory Link that I imagine not a lot of people know about since I can't imagine that many people completed the dex or did any of the Subway stuff.

It's actually a pretty important thing for me. One thing I want to do eventually is 100% my file on Black 2. Getting both sets of room awards is a big step in that.

[spineless-lobster]

The Captain just wanted to be loved.

[killa-trav]

pep buying kalvin phillips for 40 milli just to fulfil the english quota and so no one else can buy him n now apologising in the media to phillips for not selecting him is quite disgusting like pep has ruined phillips' career for no reason all bc he's a massive cunt

[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.

proofread by the lovely @yaffles-world

masterlist : here ．．discord : here ．．playlist : here

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. You recognised him now, the student from the museum, the one that had called zaunites rats.

"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." 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

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[zhukzucraft]

=====>

Tango: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAH

Tango: GIMME GIMME GIMME

Skizz: Joeseph! Not a moment too late

Skizz: Me and Jumbo Jet were just coming up for some fresh air!

Mumbo: And for some fresh not-getting-murdered. Mainly the latter.

Joe: May I offer you some fresh bread as well?

Joe: It's no steak but by Jeb does it exist and count as food.

Tango: Mh mhfm mmmfmmy fmfmrfff! (I can finally regenerate!)

Joe: Is Impulse coming?

Mumbo: Dip- I mean- Impulse says his soulmate is keeping both of them healthy so he'll explore the left branch some more.

Joe: Huh. Must be nice to be paired to someone so responsible.

Tango: Mfpfhmp

Martyn: Haha. Yeah.

Martyn: You know, this all reminds me...

Martyn: There was some important question I wanted to ask...

Martyn: Hmmmmm

Martyn: Oh yeah!!

Martyn: How does it feel to be the first on yellow, eh?

Martyn: Eh?

Martyn: Little yellow boys~

Mumbo: Martyn, do I need to remind you-

Skizz: HEY!!!!

Skizz: You leave my buddy alone!!

Skizz: The yellow of our names is like GOLD to me!

Skizz: A gold medal of LOYALTY!!

Skizz: So you BETTER RESPECT IT!

Martyn: ...kaaaaay?

Martyn: So what have you guys been up to anyway?

Tango: Hooo boy, where do I even begin-

=> Martyn: Listen to Tango's insightful and crucial flashback

Start Over -- Go Back

[bekolxeram]

I'm late to the party I know, but I need to learn how to make gifs first. I actually find the Bucktommy dinner scene a bit awkward, but not because they "lack chemistry" or the "flirting is problematic". It's not supposed to be just a cute bonus scene, it's engineered to stuff as much information as possible into mere 55 seconds. Here is my read on it:

The good old always at the hospital joke, probably just Tommy trying to lighten the mood after such a hectic day for the 118, but mainly a set up for the next part.

Buck does not see the humor in it, he seems upset.

Tommy has apparently gotten to know Buck enough at the stage to immediately clock it, and under all the dark humor and sarcasm, he does actually care about Buck's feelings.

The scene of Buck and Eddie in the hospital room with Bobby ends up on the cutting room floor, we've only got that one shot of teary eyed Buck when he breaks the news to Eddie at his house, so this is the first time in the episode Buck gets to express his fear of losing Bobby, his father figure.

And here we are, controversial moment number 1. There isn't much context attached to this line, so viewers interpret it differently. I'm in the minority camp that thinks Tommy is being serious here, Lou's delivery makes it seem like Tommy says this out of concern. I believe it's a call back to this line from the medal ceremony:

Here Buck is talking about Phillip the same way Tommy and Chimney (possibly Hen too) talk about Gerrard: like he's dead. Tommy is probably wondering if Phillip is another Gerrard situation, and he invites Buck to talk about it if he wishes to.

Buck gives a humorous but one word answer, so Tommy gets that he doesn't want to get too deep into it.

From this line on, it's a set up for the Gerrard reign of terror in S8. Tommy reiterates the jealousy he mentioned in 7x04, that he wants to become a part of the 118 family, which he only had a little taste of before he left to become a pilot.

Tommy backstory crumb. Buck and Phillip at least see each other at family functions, Tommy doesn't have a relationship with his dad at all. Judging by the medal ceremony, he doesn't seem to have any family left.

It confirms Gerrard as the anti-Christ anti-Bobby. Buck becomes the person he is because of Bobby, while Tommy behaved the way he did in the 3 begin episodes because of Gerrard. It acknowledges Tommy's toxic ways back in the days, but as we can see by the time Bobby became captain of the 118, Tommy was already on friendly terms with Chimney and Hen, we might have a chance to see the transformation in between next season. I've heard that season 7 is supposed to be a soft relaunch of the entire series, so maybe Gerrard is a good plot device to make new viewers understand the positive influence Bobby has on the firefam.

Classic deadpan humor from Tommy, Buck gets the message that he wants to keep the conversation lighthearted.

Now Buck has the power to decide which direction he's leading the conversation into, and he gives us controversial moment number 2, he brings up daddy issues and makes it horny. Look at his smirky face, he's definitely not trying to have a serious chat about father complex. He's the one who starts flirting, not Tommy, and it shows us unlike the nervous fumbling at the beginning of their relationship, Buck is now comfortable enough to initiate flirting.

Tommy can't say no to that face, so he flirts back, but it can also be interpreted as him being in denial of his obvious daddy issues. More conflict and angst for S8?

More flirting. Boy's got rizz towards all genders. He basically admits he might have "daddy issues" in a sexual connotation.

Now comes THE controversial moment of the scene, if not the episode. I've seen people online bashing Tommy for "making it sexual" (Buck did), "interrupting a meaningful conversation to satisfy his daddy kink" (no one is actually talking about any kink), or even "exploiting Buck's trauma to put him in an inferior role in a dom/sub relationship" (What? That's not what d/s is about).

I raise you the point that the word "daddy" is no longer some kind of kink exclusive lingo. This word has entered the popular zeitgeist the last couple years, and now it basically just means a sexy older man. I bet the daddy kink thing doesn't even cross the mind of most of the GA, they just take it as Tommy hoping Buck find this older man sexy. I think we might have collectively read too many smutty fanfics, that's why we all immediately jumped to the very extreme of the kinkiness spectrum when it comes to this scene.

Conclusion, the dialog in this scene may not sound natural, but that's not the point. This scene is in fact, an infodump. Kudos to the actors for making it cute.

[briarscreek]

Mediaeval Prisoner!Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley had a proposition

your arrival at the celebratory ball was nothing short of extravagant. everyone was finally excited to put their talents to use again, from elaborate cakes and dresses down to new embroidered napkins. seems like everyone agreed to let the past few years go and enjoy life again.

the announcement of your arrival snapped you out of your thoughts, squaring your shoulders and wearing a polite smile as you entered.

everyone marveled at you. no longer was the bumbling, nervous maid but a strong leader who commanded the room without words. it was king price who spoke first.

“welcome back to the capital, countess.”

“it is my honor, your majesty.”

“please let the celebration begin.”

as you wound yourself through the open ballroom, one person wasn’t here. his presence was always glaring, though absent or not. it just set off your anger even more. the coward couldn’t even be here to face you. typical.

a hand caught your arm as you were lightly conversing with a foreign princess.

“apologies your highness, i must borrow the countess for a quick word”

“of course! let me know when you’re free again countess. i’d love to chat with you over tea sometime.”

“i shall be waiting for your call, your highness.”

as doctor laswell pulled you along, you couldn’t help but look back as king price had approached the princess. he had taken her hand into his for a kiss upon her knuckles, which caused a blush to spread across her cheeks. perhaps you should ask about that later.

the wine you consumed throughout the evening had dulled your sense just a hair but not enough for you to miss the scenery changing.

“wait laswell, where are we going?”

“somewhere you are going to hate me for. but not for long.”

familiar steps up into the one place you hadn’t been in almost a year and a half. the tower. a pit formed in your stomach.

“kate—“

“please just trust me and give him a chance”

“w-wha-“

she had promptly thrown you into the top of the tower without another word. your banging on the door and yelling of her name didn’t sway her either.

“i’ve tried that before”

a voice— no. his voice echoed in the room.

you turned to see him, standing there in his traditional knights uniform. complete with a black chest plate, a red sash with medals adorning it, and a stark white painted helmet.

“you look goregous, love”

“that is countess to you.” you spit out angrily.

his shoulders deflated and admittedly, you hated it. you hated how much your words affected him and how much you cared.

“i suppose this is your doing?”

“mainly laswell’s but i did agree with it, countess.”

“if you have something to say then let’s get this over with”

you leveled him with a neutral glare, mostly uninterested in what he had to say.

“there was a lullaby my mum used to sing to me. it was about a sailor, who had lost his way because he couldn’t see his love anymore. but his lover found a way to lead him back to shore with a light. taught me that sometimes if your lost, someone will always care enough to look for you.”

you remember this lullaby, it became popular when you were just a few years old. especially when you had befriended a child on your street with roughed up knuckles and knees, a voice whispering promises of protection, a blonde haired kid who—

you can’t picture his face anymore, daydreams long since buried when his family’s house burned down with all of them still inside.

“what’s your point lord riley?”

“it was the first song you sang in the stairwell.”

he—he remembered? he was listening back then?

his eyes met yours, holding it with an emotion you had never seen before.

“thought it was my mum calling me to join her with my dad and little brother. but it was you.”

your mouth ran dry. you couldn’t figure out where he was going with this.

“you are the only other person who my mum taught the lyrics to.”

your stomach dropped. no, there’s no way life had turned out like this.

“we have a deeper connection than you remember, countess. i promised i’d always protect you, but i couldn’t protect you from myself. a selfish bastard i was. wanting everything about you. to see your smile again. to hear your laugh.”

he had kneeled before you somewhere during his explanation, but you were in a trance with his words. involuntary tears started to stream down your face while your words mumbles out of your mouth.

“w-wait. we’d both been working in the castle for years, run into each other numerous times. did you know the entire time?”

“no. i always had an unexplainable need to keep you safe but i didn’t know why until you sang. when i came to my senses and wasn’t dying, i knew it was you. and i was going to use the rest of my life to stay by your side. even if i’m nothing more than a doormat for you to wipe the dirt off your shoes; so that you would still need me. because i love you. i always have.”

that last sentence is when you started sobbing. you couldn’t keep it in anymore. the confusion, the relief, the joy, the need to figure this out. you started to pace in front of him trying to gather your thoughts until you heard movement.

and there he was. lord simon riley without his trademark helmet. nothing but the clean skin he showed with blonde hair atop his head, deep brown eyes, and scars littering his skin.

“oh my god si, it really is you.”

“i’m here my love.”

you pulled his head down to your height and kissed him with all the fervor you could muster. with all the years of desperation you had stored within you. one last question lingered in your mind as you pulled back.

“ but wait, what of your fellow knights writing about calling you the count?”

a giggle escaped his lips as a grin bloom on his face.

“all bastards the lot of ‘em. teasing me for all they could. in truth, on our wedding day, i never would have become a count. would never take that lead title away from you, lovie.”

that lifted your spirits tenfold.

“oh, our wedding day? i haven’t the faintest clue i was getting married.” you said as a teasing smile was portrayed on your lips.

he slithered his hands possessively around your body and pulled you flush against his armor.

“would fight in a tournament just for your hand in marriage lovie. no one else gets you but me.”

“and don’t you forget it.”

lord simon riley was many things to you. a friend in childhood, a knight who saved you, a stranger you became familiar with, and now the most exciting change of all.

a husband you would love unconditionally.

and even a future father who would do anything for his children.

<<PREVIOUS

THE END

[asmogorna]

Ok so for the last couple days ive been ill in the head about The Black Parade as mcr's alter ego/characters and i wanted to share some thoughts i had so far :3

It doesnt align with the canon lore that we have (i didnt really use it for reference at least) so it can be viewed as some sort of an au

I dont know if im gonna give them new names that just sound similar to the names of mcr themselves, so for now i will be referring to them by the names of the band members

So far I've been thinking about the typical "chosen by fate" scenario, where the characters lives lead them through a path for a specific cause

So

Post WW2 England

5 kids under their own circumstances witness a big parade (I will be doing some research and see if it could be some kind of victory celebration parade? It's just that I'm not sure if England had those. Not that I'm aiming for historical accuracy atp it's simple curiosity)

The kids get heavily impacted by that event and carry on (ha) that memory throughout their life

Now to the specifics of the characters cus by God they all gave me a headache

Heads up: they're all british orphans lol

Frank and Bob are students/residents in a Christian orphan school, and later on in life are priests in the town church

The reason why is that they both have badges on their uniform with crosses that could be associated with christianity

(I couldn't find any info about what exactly certain design details could be referencing, so ig it's up to interpretation)

The military theme in Gerard and Mikey's costumes will be explored on later (Mikey's medal could be either The Victoria Cross or The Distinguished Flying Cross, and the symbol on Gerard's shoulder is most likely the Order Of The Garter star)

And I couldn't figure out what to do w Ray, because I'm not sure if his uniform design details reference anything specific 🤷🏾🤷🏾🤷🏾

Now, Gerard and Mikey lost their father to war, and their mother passed away when they were both very young

And after that they ended up in the same orphanage as Ray, befriending him and finding out about their shared passion for music

This doodle was made abt that specifically <3

Later on in early adulthood they decide to start a cabaret band, in which Frank and Bob both join them later, deciding to leave their priest lives behind (partially because iirc both of them kinda fanboyed their way into the band irl lol)

After receiving little recognition, the band decides to take a train to America, to try their luck there. With a lot of hope and determination

That, sadly, doesn't last for long, for the train crushes with no survivors on board

The group crawls out of the collapsed train in their no longer physical forms. Yet, even after their death, they still have a desire to move forward. And that desire, though thoughtlessly, forces them to go forward. The souls of all the other people who lost their lives to the train accident follow them, through the landscape that no longer feels like earth

They then reach the end

Walking in one by one people disappear, finding their own peace and meeting their own finish line

After it's done, The Black Parade now have officially made themselves into what they're supposed to be. Gaining a new purpose and a new sort of life

I got too poetic for my own good here I fear .. anyway

Their job now is to lead the lost and the forgotten to the afterlife

They could be referred to as some kind of a grim reaper, I guess

I'm still thinking about adding more to the story, and maybe I will change some things, but so far this is all I can share really !! I hope if you've read this far you found this entertaining .. this is all for the satisfaction of my urges so I might or might not have too much fun w it in the future :3

The story was mainly inspired by this specific post from Gerard himself, because i liked the concept a lot ..

Also

She's gonna be here as a separate character too probably...... Cus I'm self indulgent and I love the ideas bubbling in my brain

[ts1m1kas]

Original Ask: I would like to request a Jenson Button x driver!reader they have been rivals since their karting days and Jenson has been crushing on reader for years. He flirts with her every chance he gets but she's completely oblivious to it since she thinks he's just doing it to distract her from the race and she hates him for it since she's not taken seriously by the drivers and reporters because of it. So Jensen wins the championship and he throws a big party with the team. Reader attends to congratulate him so they partied and they have a heart to heart conversation in which they finally confess their feelings to each other.. (anonymous)

Word Count: 1120 words

(author's note: i can't tell if this is bad or not, i've been slightly stressed out due to my job so i hope the jenson girlies enjoy this 🥹)

When Jenson began carting at a young age, he thought he would walk away with trophies and medals. He did get both of those things, but he also developed a crush on a girl who was convinced he hated her.

Y/N L/N was the bane of Jenson’s existence. He would say his rival if anyone asked him what she was to him, mainly because he was far too embarrassed to admit that he was completely and utterly in love with her.

Both Jenson and Y/N had successful carting careers and, despite their rivalry, made it to Formula 1 at the same time. Jenson signed with Williams and Y/N signed for Red Bull. Although the pair were much older now, their childhood competitiveness had followed them into F1 which caused many disputes between the two drivers.

Their careers in motorsports flourished and Jenson moved to Brawn GP, where he would unknowingly win the Championship. But the longer Y/N stayed in Formula 1, the more unbearable the reporters became. Question after question about her and Jenson, their ‘relationship’ and if being a female driver was more difficult.

It was the final race of the 2009 season and the Abu-Dhabi air was stifling. Y/N stood outside the Red Bull garage, holding a microphone for the interview that was about to begin.

“So, final race of the season. Are you nervous?” The interviewer asked.

“Well, I’m nervous before every race if I’m honest. The last race of the season is worse though because the stakes are always so much higher.”

“How do you feel about Jenson’s position in the Championship? If he finishes in the points this race he’s pretty much guaranteed a win?”

“What does Jenson have to do with me? I’m glad he’s performing well but that doesn’t affect me at all. I’m my own driver, not an extension of Jenson.”

“Right, sorry I apologise.”

At that moment Jenson walked past and was caught by the cameras. When he realised it was Y/N being interviewed he turned around and smiled at her.

“You look gorgeous today Y/N, it's gonna be hard for me to concentrate on the race knowing you look that good!” Jenson shouted over at her, throwing her a wink at the same time.

Y/N shifted uncomfortably on the spot, she knew all too well what was coming.

“Do you think it’s fair that your gender can become a distraction for the other drivers, especially ones who have important races coming up?”

Jenson was mortified, he didn’t realise that his stupid joke was going to cause the interviewer to ask such an inappropriate question.

“I was only joking around, she isn’t actually a distraction to us. Y/N deserves to be here as much as the rest of us-”

“I’m finished with this interview, thank you for having me,” Y/N stated, passing the microphone back to the interviewer. She disappeared into the garage, leaving Jenson outside with an uneasy feeling in his stomach.

Before they knew it, all the drivers sat in their cars, lined up and ready to race. The lights went out slowly and they set off. It was an exciting race throughout and by the end, Sebastian came out on top, followed by Y/N and then Jenson.

However, the amount of points gave Jenson his first Championship win, and he couldn’t be happier. Of course, all the journalists, reporters and interviewers forgot to congratulate Y/N on her P2 finish. She was overlooked. Again.

Celebrations were in full force for Jenson’s win. His house was packed with drivers and team staff and the sound of music and cheers filled the room. Drinks were flowing and the evening air was cool as it seeped into the room through the open patio doors.

Y/N had turned up to the party, but only because Sebastian had forced her. Part of her was cheering for Jenson but another part of her remembered how he had toyed with her feelings all those years. She moved through the masses of bodies and grabbed a drink.

Eventually, the pounding of the music and heat from the people became too much and Y/N headed outside onto the balcony. She took a deep breath, allowing the bitter air to fill her lungs. Gazing at the sun that had begun to set, she didn’t realise she was no longer alone on the balcony.

“Congrats on P2, you drove incredibly,” A voice said, cutting into the silence.

Y/N spun her head around, her face dropping when she realised it was Jenson.

“Oh, thanks. I should be congratulating you though. How does it feel to be a World Champion?”

“Pretty good, I’m not gonna lie. While I’m here, I just want to apologise for earlier. I didn’t think before I spoke and I didn’t realise that my stupid, distasteful joke would make you be treated like that.”

“It’s fine, I’m used to it. It’s nothing new, questions like that have been asked since our karting days.”

“It’s still not right. Especially when everyone thinks my feelings for you are just a joke.”

Jenson froze after he realised what he said. Y/N’s eyes widened as she looked up at him.

“You- You like me? You’re telling me that you’ve been telling the truth all along?”

Jenson scratched the back of his head awkwardly, “This isn’t how I wanted to tell you, but yeah. I like you. I have since our first kart race. I knew the minute we built up our rivalry that I wanted to be more than friends. But all this time I thought you hated me. So I kept quiet-”

“Jenson.”

“I didn’t know how to speak to you about it. I also thought you would reject me and I didn’t want the media to scrutinise you more than they already do. I just-”

“Jenson!”

Jenson stopped his rambling at the sound of Y/N’s raised voice.

“I like you too. I can’t believe I thought you were pretending to like me all along.”

Staring intently at each other, Jenson leaned down and closed the gap between the pair. He captured Y/N’s lips in a soft kiss and she smiled into it. When they finally pulled away, Y/N wrapped her arms around Jenson’s middle and squeezed, enveloping him in a hug.

Jenson leaned his head onto Y/N’s and the pair stayed tangled in the warm embrace of each other as the sun finally disappeared and was replaced by the moon. Stars twinkled in the sky, but nothing shined brighter than the smile on Jenson’s face as he looked down at the girl he had pined for all those years.

[sevikastrapjuice]

hi! love your kenji hcs 🫶 if i may speak, pole vault is perfect for kenji in the olympics! mainly inspired by gold winner duplantis being sweet to his gf 😩💖 these vids specifically:

https://x.com/womenpostingws/status/1818390437801214430?s=46&t=wCAuTx1d027vIIeY8v8MSw

https://x.com/lrxczie/status/1820725615537856768?s=46&t=wCAuTx1d027vIIeY8v8MSw

WAIT! i'm actually OBSESSING over POLE VAULTER Kenji Sato!!! 🏃🥇🏟

☆ 𝘱𝘰𝘭𝘦 𝘷𝘢𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘬𝘦𝘯𝘫𝘪 𝘴𝘢𝘵𝘰! who was super excited to get scouted for the paris olympics 2024 after much dedication, effort and hard work he put into pole vaulting ::

☆ 𝘱𝘰𝘭𝘦 𝘷𝘢𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘬𝘦𝘯𝘫𝘪 𝘴𝘢𝘵𝘰! who called you immediately after getting the news. his heart skipping a few beats as your excitement and supporting words echoes through the phone ::

☆ 𝘱𝘰𝘭𝘦 𝘷𝘢𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘬𝘦𝘯𝘫𝘪 𝘴𝘢𝘵𝘰! who made it to the paris olympics, accompanied by the love of his life. he would visit you every single day at the hotel since couples aren't allowed to be together at the olympic village.

☆ 𝘱𝘰𝘭𝘦 𝘷𝘢𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘬𝘦𝘯𝘫𝘪 𝘴𝘢𝘵𝘰! who smiles proudly as he sees you cheering for him at the stadium. your support and love always help kenji calm down his nerves before an important competition.

☆ 𝘱𝘰𝘭𝘦 𝘷𝘢𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘬𝘦𝘯𝘫𝘪 𝘴𝘢𝘵𝘰! whose competitive dna gets the best of him at the moment he starts competing, assuring his place one step closer to win a medal. you scream for him, wearing a shirt with his name on it. he vibrates when the camera focuses on you, blowing him a kiss on the big screen in the middle of the stadium.

☆ 𝘱𝘰𝘭𝘦 𝘷𝘢𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘬𝘦𝘯𝘫𝘪 𝘴𝘢𝘵𝘰! who, after his turn at pole vaulting, runs towards you, kissing you passionately...thanking you for all the support and love you've shown him every moment of you guys' relationship.

☆ 𝘱𝘰𝘭𝘦 𝘷𝘢𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘬𝘦𝘯𝘫𝘪 𝘴𝘢𝘵𝘰! who wins a gold medal at the paris olympics. his tears reveal an overwhelming feeling of completion and gratitude. you show up on the screen, crying as you open your jacket, only to reveal your swollen tummy revealing your pregnancy and a baby romper whose text reads: "my daddy is a gold medallist".

☆ 𝘱𝘰𝘭𝘦 𝘷𝘢𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘬𝘦𝘯𝘫𝘪 𝘴𝘢𝘵𝘰! whose body starts to fill up with intense joy. kenji runs to you, hugging you tightly and kissing you both on your mouth and your tummy, caressing it carefully. "i've wanted this for so long, sweetheart! what's a gold medal next to being with the love of my life for the rest of my days".

☆ 𝘱𝘰𝘭𝘦 𝘷𝘢𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘬𝘦𝘯𝘫𝘪 𝘴𝘢𝘵𝘰! who insists on having you on the podium with him. kenji takes out a ring from the inside of his jacket, kneeling in front of everyone, professing his undying love to you.

[sp4ceboo]

CHAPTER 4 ~ PESTILENCE

beneath a crimson sky masterlist | ch 1 | ch 2 | ch 3 | ch 4 | ch 5| ch 6

pairing: stray kids ot8 x afab!reader

genre: apocalypse au, dystopian, dark, adventure, action, thriller, fighting, eventual smut, romance

a/n: words cannot describe how excited i am for the next chapter

chapter warnings: fighting but not violent per se, excuse all the time skips there will be less later on i'm just setting everything up still, fun fact: all the sports facts about the boys are true (i hope),

chapter word count: 2.3k

More weeks pass. It’s almost been two months since the first horseman landed on his ship.

Your leg is healing. Under Minho’s strict commands, you stay in most of the time, which means you have to sit around inside the lab a lot, making conversation with whoever isn’t on a supply run (if that’s what’s happening) and not doing much else. It turns out it is possible to get bored in the middle of an apocalypse.

You can’t get your head around Jeongin. The rest of the boys baby him - he is the youngest, after all - and he is friendly at times, if not a little wary at others, but you see the strength that limns his limbs and wonder why he doesn’t often go on supply runs like Chan, Minho and Seungmin. You suspect he’s been ordered to watch you and make sure you don’t do anything weird while the others are gone and you’re left with whoever is staying back, but while he’s been doing that he’s found a friend in you.

Aside from Jeongin, mainly Jisung, Felix, Hunjin and Changbin stay back. You soon learn that the reason why Changbin stays back is for their protection, and that Hyunjin, Jisung and Felix don’t usually go out because seeing the world as it is takes a toll on them that the others are willing to shoulder in their stead, not because they aren’t lacking in skills.

That’s not to say it doesn’t affect Minho, Chan and Seungmin - you’ve woken up in the night to hear rustling blankets to your left and Minho spilling what’s on his heart to Jisung. You closed your eyes and tried to fall asleep again to grant them their privacy.

Interestingly, the main thing the stay-at-home gang does while supply runs are happening is spar or work out. You suppose there isn’t much to do other than read the small selection of books and comics Jisung dragged back one day, and the working out at least helps rehabilitate your calf as it heals. The sparring provides a surprising amount of entertainment.

Changbin runs a tight ship. It also turns out that Felix somehow managed to amass sixty three taekwondo medals while he was younger, Chan did boxing, and Minho did both. You stick to sparring with Jisung and Jeongin and sometimes Seungmin.

Normally, it’s fun. Normally, you wouldn’t blanch at the sight of Jeongin circling you on the blankets laid out specifically for this purpose, but you are, because there’s a dull throbbing in the back of your head - the beginnings of a headache. Still, you’re not going to back down. Your pride prevents it.

You feint to the right, and Jeongin takes the bait. It allows an opening, and you take it, lunging forward and hooking your foot around the back of his legs. He crashes to the floor - you send him a cheeky grin.

“Ohhh,” Jisung gasps from where he’s sitting on the “sidelines”.

Jeongin twists and rolls, earning a small round of applause from Changbin when he snags your sleeve and brings you down too. Scrabbling for purchase in the blankets, you grapple with him, both of you trying to flip so the other is beneath. You can hear Changbin counting down - once he reaches zero, you’ll be able to try and grab the piece of paper taped on his back and claim your victory.

You need to get the upper hand, and fast. Jeongin’s taller and has longer reach, so it will be easier for him to grab your paper. Locking a leg around his hip, you abruptly change the direction of the roll, just as Changbin reaches zero; both of you gasp, and Jeongin kicks out with his leg, dislodging you and whirling around to sock you in the stomach, knocking the air out of you.

“Quit playing dirty, Yang Jeongin!” Changbin yells.

With a groan, you push yourself to your feet. You can’t tell if somewhere in the whole mess, you hit your head or if it’s just the building pressure at the base of your neck from the headache. Jeongin looks a little concerned. You brush yourself off. You’re not going to let him go easy on you just because he feels guilty for punching you.

Focusing on his centre of mass, you try to predict where he’s going to strike next. You see his gaze flick left, his right shoulder dipping. A low whistle sounds from Seungmin - he can see what Jeongin is going to do.

So do you.

He lurches left and charges. You stand your ground, as, at the last second, Jeongin ducks right and aims for the paper on your back. Leaning to the side, you barely avoid his grasp and stick your leg out, tripping him so he goes sprawling.

Before he can recover, you plant a foot on his back and reach down to swipe his paper. He struggles against you, trying to get up - it’s never over until it’s over, as Jisung said one time when Minho and Changbin sparred for half an hour non stop - but it’s a lost cause. You’re strong enough to keep him down.

Well, you’re strong enough when your head isn’t getting split like a melon.

Because that’s what it feels like - the building pressure from the headache detonating in your skull, ricocheting bolts of pain spearing through your thoughts and whiting out your vision. Your legs turn to jelly. Abruptly, Jeongin surges up, not expecting you to suddenly let up the pressure, let alone topple to the floor.

He snatches the paper off your back, but you barely notice it, battling a swelling nausea that rises like bile in your chest. Frowning, he crouches before you and searches your face. Briefly, you wonder if your calf has gotten infected, but Minho deftly changes the bandages every other morning with his sure hands and assessing gaze, and he reported nothing - in fact, he said you wouldn’t need to wrap it soon.

“Are you okay?” Jeongin asks as he helps you up, that frown of his overflowing with worry.

“Yeah,” you say, wondering why you’re lying. “It’s just my leg.”

He opens his mouth, clearly about to argue, but there’s a kerfuffle outside, and Minho enters the room, triumphantly brandishing a vacuum-packed container of pudding. It’s rare for his smile not to morph into something more threatening when he sees you, but he seems too happy to care about that now, holding the pudding above his head like a trophy as Chan laughs and Hyunjin rolls his eyes with a fond smile.

You really don’t want to interrupt the happy moment. You don’t want to ruin their joy, but you can feel fear bubbling up in your throat and filling your lungs as you realise you’re not tired or dehydrated or hungry. There’s no other explanation for your headache except the one thing you dread: a lone rider, seated on a white horse, with a bow and arrow wielded in its hands.

Pestilence.

As if thinking the name invoked it, a surge of intense vertigo swamps you. Swaying, you flail out a hand, reaching for anything to steady yourself, but there’s nothing nearby, and you stumble one step, two, backwards, before your legs crumple beneath you and you sit down hard. A cough wracks your body, followed by another wave of overwhelming nausea.

Muted pain radiates from your tailbone, but you ignore it. It doesn’t make sense: you haven’t been outside since the dog bite, and that was more than a month ago. Even if you did get it from the dog, it would have shown itself earlier, wouldn’t it?

You guess most things don’t make sense any more.

Unbidden, an image of the first horseman appears in your head - the horse has sprouted wings, and both have shrunk so they’re about the size of your head as they flap around you. You almost feel the sting as the arrow sinks into your back, deep enough that it touches your heart.

With far more effort than it should take, you look up at the boys. They’re already all looking at you, and you feel your hands begin to tremble. Felix is looking at you with this sort of horror that grows and grows, and Minho has stepped in front of Jisung and Hyunjin, gripping his knife so hard that his knuckles are whiter than the pale shade Jeongin’s face has gone. Changbin curses. Seungmin remains silent but stares. Chan looks like he wants to take a step towards you.

You look up at him, imploring. “I - I don’t feel so good.”

Minho speaks first, voice sharp enough to be accusatory. “Yeah, we can tell.”

You bite your lip, fighting to force your words out before you lose it completely. “You have to go. Just leave me behind, or drag me out of here and put me somewhere. You - ” You clutch your head, fighting another pulse of pain. “You need to save yourselves.”

A stunned silence follows, and then the whole room erupts. You wince as they all begin yelling over each other. You can tell it’s serious because Chan is shouting too, not trying to restore order but arguing with Minho.

It occurs that they’re acting like you’re not there. There’s no surprise in that, really, but it means that you can hear Felix, Jisung and Hyunjin sticking up for you, as well as Changbin and Jeongin, which you weren’t expecting. A half laugh slips from you as you see Minho’s still holding the pudding, but it dies on your tongue, leaving a sour taste.

You’ve got the Pestilence. You’re probably going to kill them all.

This is a glimpse, you realise, of what they’re like when they don’t agree. The harmony has dissolved, and it’s your fault. You’ve never seen them so stressed. Chan’s practically tearing out his hair, and for the first time, from your spot on the bucking floor, trying to cling on so it doesn’t tip you off the edge of the world, you notice his deep eye bags.

There’s a flurry of movement, and suddenly Minho has grabbed Jisung’s arm, his gaze glittering with panic as he shakes him a little, like he’s trying to force some sense into him. You can see the veins in his neck begin to stand out, and even with Changbin and Chan snapping at each other, you hear his words clear as day.

“There’s no way she’ll survive,” he seethes. “Do you really want to stay and watch her die? Because I don’t.”

You flinch. Jisung’s eyes are on you. He looks like a cornered rabbit. Chan’s head snaps to glare at them when he hears Minho, and the livid expression on his face strikes you through with sinking fear. You don’t want them to fight, especially not over you, but you can’t raise your voice over a trembling whisper.

Changbin scrubs a frustrated hand over his face, trying to separate Chan and Minho. Felix is trapped between Hyunjin and Seungmin, looking just as cornered as Jisung. You want to fix it, want to get up and yell at them to stop and just go, but all you do is double over and cough. Useless.

All at once, everyone falls silent.

Jeongin is pointing out the window, his lips moving, but you can’t hear over the roaring in your ears. Painfully, you turn your head to see what they’re all staring at, and you choke so hard you begin to cough again. A ship is whizzing upwards. You know that ship, even though it looks like all the others, because only one ship ever landed on the surface.

Pestilence’s ship.

Pestilence is leaving.

As the ship moves up to join the others hanging in the violent red sky, you cough again. The boys’ gazes all fall to you, huddled on the floor, and determination streaks across Chan’s face. He pulls his masks out of his pocket, donning all of them and shaking off Minho when he roughly grabs his shoulder.

Helpless, you look up at him, wanting to cry. You don’t know what this means. You can barely think. There are claws sinking into your brain, razorlike pinpoints of agony, and your ribs ache from coughing.

Gently, he cups your chin and produces a water bottle, helping you drink. “It’s okay,” he soothes. “You’ll be fine here. We’ll make sure you’re comfortable, okay? We’re not leaving you.”

You nod, trying to remember why you wanted them to go before. Consciousness is slipping through your fingers like sand. Shadows swirl and twirl like dancers at the corners of your eyes, and you flap your hand to dismiss them, but they dart out of your way and inch closer, the detail on their faces smudged but for rictus grins matching Pestilence’s.

Chan holds the water bottle up again. You grip his wrist before he can lift it to your lips, stopping him, opening your mouth to ask a question that doesn’t form. The shadows are closing in, and you stare up at him, terrified, as his face transmogrifies into that of the first horseman; you try to scramble backwards, but there are shackles around your feet, and the shadows are holding you down. You can’t get away.

They won’t go.

Why won’t they go?

And then he’s Chan again, and Minho stands at his shoulder, eyes resigned. Someone smooths their hand over your sweaty hair, and there’s the softness of blankets beneath you and a low, calming voice in your ear. You don’t feel calm, though. The shadows are still there, prowling.

They’re hungry.

taglist: @estella-novella@0bticeo@lixies-favorite-cookie@smashleywow@realrintaro @extremechaoswarning @4l17h4 @hyunjinsjeans @insufferablyunbearable @lovemepie67 @needsumcomfypillowstosleep @loumin908 (let me know if you want to be added)

[what-if-nct]

NCT eating out skills.

*I apologize in advance*

Johnny: Pulls the most toe curling tongue tricks. And you can feel him smile against you every time he makes you whimper and whine.

Taeyong: Loves doing it but gets overly excited and needs a bit of direction cause he gives unnecessary attention to the lips.

Yuta: I'm not saying pussy eating champion, but he has his medals and trophies. That is his title. He is undefeated and will tongue fuck you while his fingers attend to other business.

Kun: He does exactly what needs to be done and does it well, but is a master with his fingers cause he wants to always look at you.

Doyoung: He's very unsure about his skills and technique but he shouldn't be. His technique alone is fireworks, shooting stars worthy

Ten: Not the best but not the worst, gets the job done.

Jaehyun: He licks too hard in the wrong area, needs guidance. Can be staring at it and still doesn't know where the clit is. His fingers might be the best bet.

Winwin: Will have your eyes fluttering and you'll forget your name, starts with kissing it but his tongue and fingers start working double time and will suck your clit and your fingers will lock into his hair. If Yuta has Gold in this category. Winwin easily has silver.

Jungwoo: Loves doing it so much, gets so happy but is really just licking the outer lips, his tongue might slip in but not on purpose but when he finds out he can he really goes in for it. Still overtly enthusiastic though.

Mark: He tried, he just tries his best he'll get there one day. He can find the clit but bless his heart he doesn't really know what to do.

Xiaojun: Mainly uses his fingers, will give a few licks here and there because he feels called to but he's not confident in his skills but his fingers are gold.

Hendery: Honestly he gets a little wild in there and ends up biting something it could feel good or not depending on what he's doing.

Renjun: A lot of kissing, he's very gentle and takes notes on what you seem to enjoy. Takes his time and does his best to please you.

Jeno: Gonna be honest a couple of hard licks and he says "my turn" and pulls his pants off.

Haechan: Kinda rough but in a good way, talks really dirty against it but it's muffled. Also might bite but in a good way. Will spank it if you pulled his hair when he told you to be good.

Jaemin: Also gives so many kisses down there, speaks softly, tells you how good you taste, loves trying out new things, gentle, teasing, it's an experience and a dream.

Yangyang: He doesn't know what the hell he's doing, you feel nothing and everything all at once. He enjoys doing it, maybe a little too much but Guidance isn't enough, send him to a class taught by Yuta and Jaemin.

Chenle: He doesn't have any kind of sex.

Jisung: Bless his heart he's trying his best, just guide and reassure him he's doing his best and he'll get there. But he's still better than Yangyang and Jaehyun.

[le0n-ardo]

What it's like dating 💜 Rise!Donatello💜 - Headcanons and ficlet

x f!reader. The ficlet is self-indulgent. Sorry if you don't run for fun lol

Disclaimer: all my writings contemplate the turtles aged up at about their late 20s, with the reader at the same age range. Your media consumption is your own responsibility ✨ dividers by @/cafekitsune

More Ninja Turtle headcanons in my masterlist!

Mr. Bootyyyshaker9000 has bewitched you, body and soul, and you're not ashamed to say it.

And, seriously, this smooth fucker didn't even have to try. Yeah, he thought you were cute when you both met, but Donnie's so magnetic that you were down bad for him before he actually had to flirt consciously with you.

Smooth Donatellooooooo~ (read to the tune of Smooth Operator)

Was it his voice that drew you to him with such fervor? His intellect? His personality? The answer is yes.

Donnie's large vocabulary and well-read nature combined with his affection for you make for many eloquent, beautifully delivered speeches on how much you matter to him. Even if you were never one for poetry, you will be when you're around Donnie.

Though he's not comfortable with heavy physical contact, Donatello does enjoy being in your proximity, whether you're playing a video game with each other or reading silently on your own while both on a couch or a bean bag. Donnie really appreciates that you understand that proximity doesn't always have to be physical contact.

Naturally, he really began to fall for you when he noticed you would always listen to him til the end while he was talking. Even when he'd lose the attention of others in the room, you'd always be paying close attention to him regardless of what he was infodumping about. And hey, you've honestly learned a lot about a whole bunch of things since you started going out with him.

Something about Donnie not showing that many emotions somehow makes the emotional part easier. If you're ever upset and don't want to get too deep into it, but rather you just want to be in the company of a loved one for comfort, you can seek him out and be with him in silence, letting the mutual quiet soothe you.

Months into the relationship, Donnie surprised you with a gentle pat on the head when you were upset about something. You smiled through your tears when he did that.

He also thinks you're super cool, both because of the things you have in common with him but also because of the parts where you're different from him. Donnie knows his own limitations and weaknesses very well, and if he ever sees you doing well where he might struggle, he'll admire you dearly for it. He might not say it, but he does feel it.

Donnie invites you to spectate the lair games and dedicates every one of his victories to you, even if he might not win many events. Leo doesn't make it easy for Donnie to show off during the games, that's for sure.

But Donnie does show off when he can. Yes, being flashy in some ways is a part of who he is, with his tech and his gadgets, but there are also times when he shows off just for you.

Donatello one time arrived with you and leaned on the counter all broody and mysterious. He was wearing shades (you thought he looked handsome) and in that smooth voice of his, he suddenly broke the silence.

"I just got platinum member status at the library."

You swooned dramatically, and despite your play, you also wanted him to know you understood what it meant to him, and he appreciates you for that.

Or the time when he arrived with you with his laptop open after hours of having disappeared into the darkness with it, showing you a screen full of C++ code. "I found the missing semi-colon." That time you

That time you swooned legitimately. Finding a missing semi-colon in code warrants a medal.

When you found out he drew his eyebrows on, it nearly destroyed him. To be fair, Mikey had blurted it out, and that was what mainly bothered Donnie - just his dumb dumb brother being a dumb dumb. But he was, deep down, afraid antics like that would come between you and him.

"It's not about the eyebrows, okay?"

To reassure him, you told him that the fact that he drew eyebrows on while the others didn't was a clear sign of his superior intellect. He saw right through your attempt to cheer him up, but he appreciated you for it nonetheless.

Kisses with him tend to be very short and sweet, and it isn't until several months into the relationship that Donnie begins feeling comfortable with longer kisses and even make outs.

His hands don't roam all that much around your body, but when he's comfortable, he'll hold you close in place.

Eventually, Donatello becomes fond of holding your hand while kissing. He notices the warmth of your hands and the fact that they don't get sweaty, as well as the fact that you wash your hands regularly and use sanitizer. He adores that.

Donnie also compliments your intelligence a lot, which to his brothers is mind-blowing.

The main compliment is "Of course (Y/N) is of superior intellect. Exhibit A, I am the love interest."

Your mutual sarcasm lets you both be on a similar wavelength, especially when it comes to his brothers. They're all formidable when it comes to sarcasm, but when you're with Donnie, it's double the trouble.

He also learns about the things that interest you and he'll make great amounts of conversation with you about it, which you love. You finally have someone who will talk for hours with you about your favorite things!

If you're into any sports, he'll research proper form and technique to help you improve and prevent any injury, and he'll know about competitions, its history, its origin, even down to what teams to root for based on stats.

If you're into a show or a movie, he'll watch it and give you all his opinions. If he likes it too, you could both spend an entire night talking about it without sleeping.

Also, Donatello is a really good cook! He might not add dramatic seasoning to food, but he still has a great "culinary affinity," as he puts it. Mild flavors were never equal to bad flavors.

He loves mascarpone cheese because of this reason - it's like cream cheese, but the flavor is so much more delicate and creamy. Bake him a cheesecake with mascarpone instead of cream cheese, or add a dab of mascarpone over his pizza and he will float off into a cheesy, delicious dream.

Donatello isn't one to take many photos of himself or with you, but he does record your dates and your moments with his phone or any other cameras he may have. He might take a photo of the food before you eat it or the skyline if you go out at night, and he'll remember exactly what happened on the day or night of each one.

Donnie will also keep, and give you, a lot of mementos. From things he picks up to things he buys to things he makes himself. A book on your favorite hobby, a custom mousepad fit specifically for your wrist for those long work hours, a sticker Mikey painted that reminded him of you and would look nice on your laptop or your phone case.

He started off giving you things he found laying around the sewers... but then he realized that might not be the best gift to give.

Donnie lets you get prime early access to his technological advances, unless said technological advances involve projectiles or fire of any kind. When that's the case, he just goes to Leo.

Oh yeah, don't forget that those two are the Disaster Twins. Leonardo is a third wheel on many of your dates with Donnie and he's insufferable about it. Loveable, but insufferable.

In his own way, Leo holds you in high regard too. Leonardo knows he doesn't always understand Donnie to the fullest, even though he tries to, and he knows anyone outside the family would find it really easy to brush over Donnie or roll their eyes at his infodumping. Leo, and all the Hamato clan for that matter, truly appreciates you for how great you are with Donnie.

Leo shows you that affection by letting you see Disaster Twin antics no one else would get to see. Consider yourself lucky.

Back to Donnie. His first love confession came out in full Donatello fashion, with a food-related exclamation and during a moment when your mind shined bright with an amazing idea that would perfectly use his tech in a way better than even he initially intended.

"Holy green chilaquiles with refried beans, I love you so much!"

You had come back to the lair from your run feeling great. Energized, strong, if not a little sweaty. You knew you could make yourself at home, and you took a nice shower, slipped into some clean clothes, and finally went to make yourself at home on the comfy couch in Donnie's lounge, the soft one that had a purple knit blanket folded neatly on one of the arm rests. You got cozy and turned the TV on a low volume for some white noise while you caught up with messages on your phone, and in the background, you could hear him.

Him, your turtle man, who mumbled to himself indistinctly with his eyes glued to whatever screen he was working on, occasionally pacing back and forth across the room according to what he needed. Heaven knew what he was up to this time, but you smiled to yourself knowing you'd find out soon enough. The uttered "logistics," "package," and "cheese" did raise a few questions, but none that would put any matters of security immediately at hand. Your focus remained mainly on your phone, but you did manage a smile to yourself.

Donnie was adorable when he did that.

You finished going through your messages and relaxation seemed to settle in when you no longer had any notification bubbles biting for your attention. It was then that you decided to shift your position on the couch, but when you did, your leg moved in such a way that made an "Oof!" briefly escape you, and in a matter of seconds, Donatello was in front of you.

"You good?"

You gave a breathless little laugh. "Wow, you're quite the ninja."

"A known fact, go on," Donnie smirked.

"Yeah, I'm fine," you continued. "Just a little post-run tension, that's all."

"Were you overstriding?" He asked.

"No, not that I'm aware of," you replied. "I've been following all the posture and form recommendations you gave me."

"Good," he smiled proudly at himself. "Well, running is still taxing on the muscles and joints. If you're certain it's not pain, and only tension..."

"I am," you confirmed.

"Ah, right," Donnie said as he turned around and began making his way out of the lounge.

"Donnie?" You straightened your back on the couch to try and watch where he was going. "Donnie-- Don? Yeah, you're gone."

You would have followed him, but the tension in your leg made the idea of staying on the cozy couch all too appealing. Luckily for you, Donnie didn't take long with whatever he intended, and when he returned to you, he adopted a proud pose between you and the television and held a flask out in his hand for you to see.

"Behold, fair maiden, my very own muscle-tension-pain-relief serum! A concoction of menthol, herbs, and other ingredients I am hard-wired not to divulge lest someone will take my formula and profit off of it and I am far too busy for that," Donnie gave a light bow and gave you the flask. "Do not use near an open flame."

You deadpanned at him. "Really?"

"What?"

"Do you really have to give that painfully, stupidly obvious disclaimer?" You giggled.

"I have a Mikey and a Leo."

Your deadpan became a grimace tainted with understanding. Millions of possible ways in which his brothers, at least in their younger days, could have been seen as hazardous near any inflammable liquid made you want to laugh with fear. "Yeah, fair enough."

With a light chuckle, Donnie sat next to you. "Where's the discomfort?"

"My left calf and a little bit of the hamstring," you said, lifting up your pijama bottoms - you were thankful they were baggy, making it easier to treat your aching leg.

"Ah yes," he said and directed you a look. "Shall you, or shall I?"

You couldn't help but widen your eyes a little at Donnie. "I-I- I mean, I can do it if you want, but... I'm not opposed to you..."

Donatello smirked with a hint of softness and opened the flask, pouring some of it on his palm before reaching for your calf and rubbing gently. You felt the hot-cold sensation of the remedy immediately comforting your leg, so much better and more effective than any store bought gel you'd ever come across. But more than that, feeling Donnie's touch on you, his proximity, his willingness to take care of you using something he had created... it made you soft inside, warm like a little bun right out of the oven, and you showed it through a gentle smile.

"Thanks, Donnie," you hummed.

"Reapply before you go to sleep," Donnie replied. "And hydrate."

"Yes, coach," you raised a brow.

Donatello laughed with confidence. "Coach, that's cute. I prefer either Sensei or All Time Chief Mastermind of the Supreme."

"I'll stick to Bootyyyshaker."

He raised one perfectly drawn brow at you, unamused.

"Sorry," you corrected. "Bootyyyshaker9000."

Donatello's scowl became a grin. "There you go."

I hope I did my boy justice. I love Donnie so much.

Thank you for reading! Reblogs are appreciated! 💜 You can see my masterlist for more if you want!

[quack-quack-snacks]

Time Will Tell - Chapter 1.33

My Time Will Tell Masterlist

My Cha Hyun-su Masterlist

My Navigation and Masterlist

The Time Will Tell Glossary

Warnings: Cuddling, talk about a funeral. Word Count: 1,623

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You spent over an hour with Hyun-su, mainly just sitting in silence, but you also told stories of all the interactions you’d had with him when he asked. 

You reluctantly left him eventually, needing to get back to Yeong-su and Su-yeong and check on how they were doing. Hyun-su understood and you were thankful for that. You promised him you would tell him everything about the two kids later in the day.

That was when his face lifted in the tiniest smile you’d ever seen. 

You searched everywhere and finally found your siblings hanging out with Mr. An in Mr. Han’s old workshop. They were holding hands and sitting down, leaning against the desk there quietly. Mr. An sat on the desk itself, looking at the contents inside of a red velvet box, reminding you somewhat of the box that held the necklace now around your neck. 

Hyun-su had helped you with putting it on and it was the softest most intimate moment you remember sharing with him. His fingertips unintentionally - or intentionally - traced against your shoulders as he locked the clip of the necklace so it wouldn’t fall off. He let his fingers lightly skim against your back as he slowly moved away from you when he was done. Goosebumps had emerged along your arms and you got them again just thinking of the moment. What made it even better was when he grabbed your hand again after you turned back around. 

It was magical. 

When Mr. An noticed you approaching, his eyes lit up even more than they already were. He stood up quickly and bounded over to you. “You’re here! Perfect!” He laughed softly with a big grin. He turned the box in his hand around to show you and you saw a beautiful medal with a moon and a wolf pendant attached to it. Also in the box was a small envelope. “Han Du-sik made it for you. Both your siblings have one as well!” He exclaimed excitedly. 

“I… I don’t know what to say… Thank you,” you told him gently. His smile grew smaller but no less happy and genuine. 

He stepped forward and you let him place the medal on your jacket. Then, he handed you the letter, and that’s when you noticed it had your name on it. 

When you opened it, you read the final words Han Du-sik had left for you. 

Since I first met you, I always saw you as a protector. You’ve put yourself in danger multiple times to protect those you care about, but most of all, to protect your siblings. You are someone who deserves the good in life. This world does not deserve someone as pure as yourself. 

Just like a wolf, you protect those you view as family with all of your might. I managed to be one of those people and I could not be more grateful for you and the caring nature that comes along with you. 

Carry on, my wolf, and do not let your kindness be stolen by this world. 

Sincerely, 

Han Du-sik.

You didn’t realize you’d been crying until a teardrop fell and splashed onto the paper. You looked back up at Mr. An and wrapped your arms around his midsection. 

“Thank you, halabeoji.”

He sighed and wrapped his arms around you, hugging you back. It was a calm moment until you felt two pairs of arms wrap around the two of you and include themselves in the hug. It made you smile and you looked down at them. 

With the childlike wonder that filled their eyes as they looked up at you and the way they clung to you, you just knew.

You would protect these two with your entire life. If you could control the world and life itself, they would never know pain again.

It was late when you returned to Hyun-su and you found him sleeping against a filing cabinet, looking peaceful despite the awkward position that would most likely hurt his neck in the morning - monster or not. 

You walked over and sat next to him, taking off your jacket - despite how cold it seemed to be, in the middle of August no less - and carefully pulling his body over so he was resting on your lap. You placed the jacket over his half-naked torso and fixed it so as much skin was covered as it could be. 

Your fingers scratched through his hair in an attempt to soothe him when he stirred. He melted under your touch and you were sure he wouldn’t wake up after that. Your fingers didn’t stop moving through his soft locks but you started talking, whispering. 

“I wonder if you knew that I loved you. Before you lost your memory,” you thought out loud, yet still quiet as a mouse. “I don’t think I hid it all that well, to be honest. I might as well have had the words ‘I’m in love with Cha Hyun-su’ written on my shirt,” you joked to yourself. “Please don’t leave me, Cha Hyun-su,” you suddenly got deadly serious and a silent sob wracked through your chest.

‘God, I have been crying so much lately,’ you thought to yourself as you wiped at the tears that built in your eyes. 

The exhaustion from the day finally seemed to catch up with you and you allowed your head to fall back against the wall with a soft thump. Your fingers in Hyun-su’s hair slowly came to a stop and they lay there, still as a stone. 

Your eyes fluttered shut and you lost touch with reality as the land of sleep took over. Distantly, you could feel yourself being moved but you weren’t sure if it was in your dreamland or the real world. 

When you finally awoke the next morning, your position had changed, and you were lying on top of Hyun-su. His arm loosely curled around your back as you lay on his chest. When you looked up at his face, you were unable to look away. 

His eyes were shut and breaths were even as they escaped through his perfectly shaped nose. There was dried blood on his cheeks but it wasn’t anything you weren’t used to. You were accustomed to seeing Hyun-su covered in blood, unfortunately. 

Once you snapped out of your daze, you were finally able to realize that you’d slept there with him. You really needed to get back to your siblings and let them know you were okay. You would hate to worry them. 

When you tried to get up, however, Hyun-su just tightened his grip around you. It surprised you a little considering this was something you thought only happened in movies or books, but here you were; in real life with a boy trapping you against him in his sleep.

A boy who doesn’t remember you, though. 

The thought made you try again to separate yourself from him again but he wouldn’t budge. 

‘Goddamned monster strength!’

You cursed yourself for not even wanting to separate from him. He was so warm and so comfortable to lay on. You noticed the boy had placed your jacket on top of his chest before he set you on top of him so you wouldn’t be touching the dried blood on his chest. It warmed your heart and you cursed yourself for melting into him even more. 

If you’d looked back up at his face, you would’ve noticed the small unconscious smirk that played on Hyun-su’s lips. 

It was about 30 minutes later that you felt the boy beneath you move and loosen his grip around you. You looked up at him and watched as his eyes slowly opened, finally rising from his slumber. 

He looked back down at you with no hint of shock or embarrassment in his gaze. The gaze was blank, emotionless, but the soft circles he started to draw onto your lower back conveyed everything you needed to know.

Even if his memories were gone, he still cared about you. And in that moment, that was enough. 

The moment was interrupted by your dearest friend Eun-yu entering the room with a solemn expression. She made no comment about how the two of you were cuddled up together and instead said what she came there to say. 

“Mr. An passed away in his sleep. We’re holding the funeral for him and Byeong-il in ten minutes.”

You looked shocked but nodded in acknowledgment. She nodded back and quickly exited the room with only a slight glance toward Hyun-su. You could tell she was a little scared of him since he had almost killed her, Eun-hyuk, and Ji-su yesterday. You couldn’t blame her for a natural bodily reaction but it still somewhat offended you on Hyun-su’s behalf.  

He didn’t seem to take it into account at all considering he mostly didn’t remember the girl. 

After a minute of silence, you sat up. This time he let you. You turned to him with a sad smile. “I should go back to Yeong-su and Su-yeong. They’re probably not doing the best with Halabeoji’s death,” you told him disappointedly. You wanted to comfort your siblings but you desperately didn’t want to leave this boy. Hyun-su nodded and you grabbed his hand, squeezing gently. “Would you like to come to the funeral?”

He shook his head no but squeezed your hand back. “I don’t think I would be very welcomed there. I’ll pass.”

You knew he was telling the truth. Most of the people probably wouldn’t want him there and it pissed you off. You just nodded towards the boy beside you and reluctantly let his hand go to stand up. 

“I’ll see you soon. Okay?” You reassured him and smiled softly when he nodded.

~

Taglist <3

@hyeon-yi

@haowonbins

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[cheriladycl01]

The month of winning - Alex Albon x ZimbabweanOlympicSailing! Reader

Plot: As an old money girl, having been part of your dads sailing club for years you become an athlete, getting a silver medal for your country and a new boyfriend!

You and Alex new it was going to be a busy few weeks, You'd been training hard for the Olympics your whole life. Your dad was part of a fancy yacht and sailing club in your home town. And he was a very very wealthy man, some of the yachts he sold ended up in places of the world like Monaco.

You'd grown up with just your dad, and were homeschooled and were constantly helping him with the boats and that started your love for sailing as a sport. You started to compete in championships when you were old enough and your father had taught you everything you know about the sport.

Everyone you grew up with and Alex came to watch you at the Paris Olympics. And it was a moment to remember getting silver. You were stood on the podium your flag flying in the wind making the biggest grin ever to appear on your face.

You could see Alex and your dad in the stands cheering loudly for you, making you wave and blow them a kiss.

After your win, you wanted to travel home to see all your old friends and family who couldn't go all the way to France for the Olympics, and wanted to congratulate you on your win. It was the off season for Alex too, so you both got to spend loads of time sightseeing Zimbabwe.

Alex loved animals, mainly pets but that didnt stop him from freaking out when you guys took a day to go on a safari and see all the animals your dad would take you to see in the reserves as a kid.

He used probably 3 sd cards for the digital camera he brought to take pictures and filled out storage on his phone too with the amount of pictures he'd taken on just the safari alone. It was crazy, and when you asked him to take a nice picture of you, it would take him ages scrolling through to try find it when you wanted him to send it to you so you could upload it to your Instagram.

"Baby, come on its a picture of me vs a picture of a cheetah how cant you pick me out!" you laughed looking over his shoulder as he's scrolling through trying to find the picture of you at the watering hole.

"Look, I took so many of all the animals and only like 4 of you because the rest were on your phone!" he exclaims before he gasps and see's a gorgeous picture of you.

"Awwww look at my pretty baby!" he grins showing you the picture making you shake your head in disbelief.

"Right, send that to me now... before you loose it!" you chuckle. And he does air-dropping it to you there and then.

After a beautiful week in your home country it was time for the end of Alex's summer break and for him to get back in the car racing. You were excited because he'd extended his contract with Williams and you knew that even though this year wasn't going very well for them, that each race the data they were gathering making it easier to predict which upgrades were needed and worth it.

Monaco, being as historic as it was came with a few upgrades that not only had Williams buzzing but the whole paddock because it looked like they might be in the position to fight for some points this weekend unlike Alpine and Sauber who unfortunately were still struggling with various issues.

You could sense in both Alex and Logan how excited they were for these huge next steps.

"How's the car feeling this weekend? It's looking nicer to drive, more steady on both of you" you questioned the boys who both nodded with grins on their faces.

"Yeah, it's an incredible change it feels so smooth now. Like it felt like we were fighting the car before but now it's complying with us, its a great feeling!" Logan answered only for Alex to nod in agreement.

"Yeah i can definitely see us grabbing points this weekend!" Alex smiles.

Two days later on the Sunday Alex was in P11 and Logan was defending P8 incredibly well and there was only a few laps left to go. Ahead of Alex was two drivers. Yuki Tsunoda in P9 right behind Logan and Lewis in P10.

Last lap action was every fans favrioute but as a WAG it was the most stressful. Especially for you as you knew Alex, even though he was a smooth driver would start to push more than he might be able to handle.

You were stood with his mum and sister and Logans girlfriend and parents biting your nails in anticipation as he pulled up alongside Yuki and Lewis, and taking the inside line managed to overtake both of them.

A cheer came through the paddock upon realizing that Logan also just made the overtake of his career getting him up to P7, placing Lance Stroll in between the two Williams drivers.

They crossed the finish line, Logan in P7 and Alex in P9, a double points finish for Williams, the first points they'd gotten this season and the garage and pit wall went wild as you all ran out to go find the drivers to celebrate.

Alex was grinning from ear to ear in his post race interview, his eyes kept meeting yours behind the camera and interviewer making him chuckle every now and then.

"Amazing race today Alex, first points for both you and Logan. How are you feeling having this and your girlfriend winning and Olympic medal all in the same month!" she asks and his grin widens if that's possible.

"Yeah, i mean I'm so thankful to everyone this weekend for making it happen, it was definitely a long time coming getting these points but we've done it. We're happy with this weekends progression and yeah we're gonna push harder next weekend in Montreal! Obviously I'm so proud of my amazing girlfriend as well, she has worked so hard for everything she's achieved and yeah she deserves the world for the support she's given me over this weekend" he answers.

"Thank you Alex!" she smiles before letting him go and getting ready for Logan.

"What a month" he sighs pulling you into a hug and kissing the side of you head.

"What a month indeed!" you grin back.

y/user

Liked by alex_albon georgerussell63 landonorris and williamsracing

y/user: From a weekend in Zimbabwe Sailing and winning Silver to a weekend in Monaco, Fast Cars and Formula One all w/ Boo 🔥

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y/dads/user: Amazing medal sweetheart! So proud please come back soon!

-> y/user: we will! Alex loved all the animals and seeing you guys again!

fan1: so proud of this woman for bringing silver home!

alex_albon: two weekends I’ll never forget! Big celebrations incoming 🫶🏼🇿🇼🇹🇭

-> fan2: omg he put their flags together!

-> y/user: Love you Alex and I’m so great full you were there! 🫶🏼❤️

fan3: she just looks expensive, you guys know what I’m saying?

-> fan4: she comes from old money so she has those vibes!

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[gibsongirled]

Schlatt dating a girl who is a NASCAR driver/Formula 1 driver

I don't know much about it but I thought it would be a cool idea

Also Schlatt being a passenger princess

schlatt with a racer girlfriend !!

a/n: i fear i don't know much about it either

points at the tv like that meme anytime you appear

“that's my fuckin' girlfriend !!”

watch party with yall's friends

tweets out every second to update what is going on with you on tv

takes a picture of him wearing your medals

excitedly talks about your races on stream

would feature you on stream if you're not busy with the press or with training

schlatt being a passenger princess is so true

because you refuse to let him drive

mostly because you wanna treat him like a little princess

and mainly because you don't trust him to not dent your car

he's not drifting with your precious car, i fear

you'd put a stop to it before he could anyway

when it's not a race weekend, you two really just laze around the house

a lotta sleeping in and cuddling

you definitely join him and ludwig in the drifting in japan video

it gets competitive

like really competitive

all in good fun tho