#i'm running out of things to say in my tags

[nsharks]

bleeding blue | apocalypse au

part thirty-two —other parts

pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x fem!reader words: 5.1k tags: death. blood and gore. zombies of course. AFAB reader. single dad ghost. enemies to lovers. SA and implication of child SA (very subtle). summary: After losing your companions, you run into a skull-masked man and his daughter. They are your last hope for survival. a/n: clearly I am bad at estimating how long this story will take lol

The tray of food crashes to the floor at her feet. Salome gasps. Her hand shoots back, fumbling for the doorknob, and her lips part, ready to call the guard you know is just outside.

"If you call for the guard," you stop her, "I’ll cut deeper."

She clamps a hand over her mouth. "Please—stop! Hurting yourselves is a sin, a great dishonor to the body God gave you—"

“It is,” you agree calmly. You press the shard deeper into the cephalic vein, ignoring the bite of pain. Blood spills in a fresh, startling curtain down your arm, the wound mimicking the severity of an arterial cut. “And she’ll blame you for it. You’re the one she entrusted to watch over us, and you didn't notice we broke one of the mugs."

"I did not think you would—"

"What happens to you,” you cut her off, pointing the bloody shard at her stomach, “—and your baby when the two new child-bearers die because of your failure? Because I will die, if I cut any deeper. This artery,” you lie, tapping the wound for emphasis, “is important. If I finish slicing through it, I’ll bleed out in less than a minute. Not enough time for you to get help. Not even enough to try saving me yourself.”

Her lashes flutter rapidly through a swell of tears. "You could have a good life here—"

"Answer me. What happens to you if I die?"

She swallows hard. "She’ll punish me," she whispers frightfully. "I have seen what happens to those who fail her. She might take my child and I will... never see them. Please, don’t do this—”

"Why should we care about you and your child when you are okay with them killing an eleven-year-old girl tomorrow?"

A flash of shame crosses her face. "I'm sorry. I-I didn't know Maman would want the girl. The offering has never been so young before. But it is God's will, there is nothing I can do to—"

"What you can do is open the cell. Open it and we will kill Maman, then you won't have to worry about anyone taking your baby. But if you don't open it, then we die in here and you will face her punishment."

Her lips part, but nothing comes out. She looks between you and Nereida, eyes darting wildly, fingers twitching against her stomach. 

"Decide before I bleed out!"

"I... I can't," she says pitifully.

With a glance at Nereida, she takes her cue, digging into her vein.

"Open the cell," Nereida urges far more soothingly than you can, blood dripping to her elbow. "We won't hurt you. We want Maman gone, not you."

Salome whimpers under her breath, but her fingers move before her mind catches up, reaching inside her robe to retrieve the key, gripping it like it might burn her. She shuffles closer but pauses, inhaling deeply before finally reaching the door. Her hands shake so violently that the key rattles against the lock. It slips against the metal, failing to match the hole, and your finger twitches when she nearly drops it.

"Mais si elles ne parviennent pas à la tuer..." The whisper leaves quietly, lost beneath the veil. "Sa punition pour moi sera pire."

Then, her hand curls back around the key.

She swallows hard—and steps back.

No. 

You see red.

A growl curls at your mouth and you snap forward, grabbing onto her dress through the bars before she can retreat too far, and pulling her flush against them, her forehead banging into the metal. Before she can scream, you clamp a bloody hand over her mouth and then press the piece of broken mug to her neck with just enough pressure to make her panic. She gasps into your palm, struggling. You dig it harder, forcing her body to turn still and rigid.

"Twix—"

"I tried doing things the nicer way," you speak in a low snarl, veering off the script you and Nereida conjured. Round, glossy eyes stare into yours. "You should have made up your mind before getting within my reach. Now give her the key. I’d hate for my hand to slip."

Another sharp press into her skin wrings a squeak from her, her breath coming out jagged and uneven against your palm. Trembling, she extends an arm through the bars, offering the key to Nereida.

The moment Nereida takes it, she fumbles to find the lock from the outside, her fingers searching blindly. The key scrapes against the metal—once, twice—before a soft click finally reaches your ears.

The door swings open.

You don’t hesitate. Keeping your grip firm over Salome’s mouth, you shove through the opening and swing around to the other side. Before she can react, you force her back into the cell, driving her onto the bed. The veil tears free from her head as you pin her down, your weight pressing her into the mattress, the sharp fragment still poised at her throat. When her legs begin to flail helplessly, you order Nereida to grab them. She clasps Salome's ankles to keep her from bucking you off.

"You were afraid of the wrong person," you hiss, your nose nearly brushing hers. "Maman may have spared your life because she values her baby makers—but I don’t. Answer everything I ask, or I’ll show you just how merciless I can be."

The dishonest threat rolls off your tongue with enough force to make her nod frantically, fear widening her eyes. But what she doesn’t need to know—what you won’t let her see—is the part of you still holding back. Because even now, even as you pin her down and press the shard to a vital piece of her throat, you’re careful. You don’t dig hard enough to damage. You don’t let your weight bear down on the swell of her stomach.

"I'm glad we understand each other. I am going to lift my hand, and you're not going to scream. You're going to tell me everything we need to know about the guards out there."

Her lips are puffy and raw when you set them free. 

"There is only one outside the d-door," she sputters in a whisper. "B-but there are more... more by the... h-homes and the keep."

"The keep?"

"Where they keep the new m-males," she chokes out, snot dripping from her nose.

"That's in the old slaughterhouse, right?"

She nods.

"How many guards are over there exactly?"

"I do not know." At your glare, she rushes out, "B-but there are less after d-dinner ends. Many go to sleep, and switch shifts at sunrise."

You mull over the information, eyes darting across her face. “And the child—the offering? Where is Maman keeping her?”

A terrible look of fear ripples through her eyes. "Only few are allowed near the offering b-before her ascension. 

"So you're telling me you don't know?" you seethe in her face.

She sobs. "I know they... they will offer her to the démons right before the sun rises. The night is when God’s wrath is strongest, but it’s in the morning—when hope ascends—that we seek atonement."

Despite further pressing, that seems to be the extent of what she knows—or she's still withholding. Either way, you're satisfied enough. You rip strips of the sheet, using one to gag her and two more to bind her wrists and ankles. You and Nereida wrap your wounded wrists tightly to stop the flow. Then, you remove her white gown. You’ll need something to wear that doesn't easily mark you as an escapee, but there’s only the one white dress and veil. You hurriedly slip into them, making sure all of your hair and face is hidden, leaving Nereida still in the thin slip. The shoes Salome wears are thin and made of unsupported leather, but they are all you have to tuck your bare feet into.

Salome said there will be fewer guards after dinner. You and Nereida listen carefully to every sound that bleeds through the window. When you hear a few exchanges of bonne nuit, you figure people are starting to retire for the night. You take this as your cue to grip your makeshift weapon. The guard outside the door is expecting Salome to leave at some point, giving you the perfect opportunity to catch him off-guard while dressed as her.

You quietly open the door to the warm summer night, the long gown ghosting around your ankles. As expected, a well-built man leans against the side of the building, arms crossed languidly. No one else is in sight, which brings you some relief. When his gaze shifts to you, he raises a brow.

"Tout va bien, mademoiselle? Vous êtes restée là-dedans un moment."

The last word barely makes it out of his mouth. Within a heartbeat, you spring at him like the head of a snake, one hand over his mouth and the other stabbing his neck with the shard, then sweeping it through the thick of his trachea. A gush of blood oozes out in one thick stream, before he gargles out a strangled choke and turns to dead weight against the wall. 

With Nereida's help, you quickly push his body inside the building to keep anyone from spotting it. 

"Wear this," you usher, already starting to undress him. Like the man who visited you, he's wearing a grey cloak. Though it's too big for her, and bloodied, it will be enough to keep her discreet in the dark, her long hair safely tucked beneath the hood.

Two things race through your mind: the ticking time toward sunrise and the fact that you still don’t know how many more men you’ll have to take out to reach Ghost, Price, and Kyle. The knife you find on the guard adds a small weapon to your shitty arsenal. You have no idea where they could’ve stored the guns and ammo they took from you, or your bow. How you'll manage to fight through a community of cultists without those is a worry you can’t afford to dwell on right now—one step at a time.

After a few minutes of collecting yourselves, urgency pulls the two of you outside, free from the barred enclosure for the first time in almost four days. In the blanket of night, you quickly scan the area, taking in what you’re up against. The community appears fairly spread out, with only six small farmhouses like the one you just escaped from, along with a few larger structures in the near distance—likely where they house the men. You catch a glimpse of a fenced pasture’s perimeter and the unmistakable stench of cattle fills the air. Despite the faint shuffle of hooves and grey plumes of smoke from a few of the chimneys, everything is eerily still, leaving an unnerving amount of quiet for your heart to shatter through.

From what you can see, there aren’t many places to hide Blue, but there could be more to this place beyond what’s visible, especially since the chapel you first saw is nowhere in sight. But none of that matters right now; you need to find the others first if you’re going to have any real chance of saving her and getting out of here.

The next male you encounter spots you first as you make your way up the gravel road towards the barn, the sound of his boots making your hand tighten on the knife's handle. He greets you unassumingly in French, causing Nereida to startle beside you as his shadow approaches. Then he stops in front of her, his shoulders tensing and his hand hovering near a knife at his waist.

"Que fais-tu avec la femelle? C’est interdit!"

Again, you go for the throat, desperate to silence any screams that could cause alarm. You get a good swipe at the base of it, but he is at least a head taller than you, making it difficult to stab fully. He grabs you by the waist, clearly in shock that a veiled female just sprung on him with a knife, but swipes a fist at your face nonetheless. The force spreads through your temple, thrusting your head to the side. 

"Take the knife from him," you hiss at Nereida through the pain, who until now was effectively frozen. She finally moves, using the distraction you've caused as he clutches his bleeding neck, and snatches the knife still hanging at his waist. Once she has it, you leap at the disarmed man again, this time stabbing his liver. With a muffled grown, he face-plants into the gravel, quickly soaking it with blood. 

"The body," she stutters worriedly. "We need to hide it."

You look around, spotting stacks of chopped wood.

"Over there. Help me drag him."

Once the body is heaved behind the logs, you pat him down in search for anything else, but there's nothing.

"Keep that on you," you tell her, and she gives a quick nod, hiding the knife under her sleeve.

You keep following the road up to the fence, your white dress splattered with crimson, resembling the dotted stars overhead. The 'keep' is somewhere by the barn that man said, but you notice smaller buildings to the right and to the left of it. Which one looks like an old slaughterhouse? It's too difficult to tell even when you squint, so you grab Nereida's arm and quickly lower by a bush.

"Watch that one, and I'll keep an eye on this one. Whichever building has more guards patrolling is probably where they're holding them."

"Okay," she whispers, peering around the bush.

Minutes pass. The building on the right has more shadows skirting around it—three guards total. You take a moment to study their movements. One is stationed near the back, the other two at the front.

"I want you to take the one at the back and wait for me. I'll handle the other two."

"How do I take him?" she whispers uncertainly. "He’ll see me coming."

"You’ll come at it from an angle." You point toward a stack of hay. "Sneak over there, quietly. Once you're behind it, circle around and approach where he can't see."

She hesitates, rubbing the back of her hand across her forehead. "I’ve never—"

"Never killed anyone?" 

The way she grips the knife, her fingers white on the handle, confirms it.

"These people deserve it, Nereida," you say, forcing her to meet your gaze. "John is in there."

She closes her eyes, and for a moment, the weight of it all presses down on her. When she opens them again, her jaw is set, and her grip on the knife tightens.

After reminding her where to strike, you pause for a moment, watching as she sneaks over to the hay. Then, you move toward the other two, slipping behind a tree for cover, but your foot catches on something and you almost trip, catching yourself against the bark. Your breath hitches and you steal a peek at them to make sure they didn't hear you. No—they are too busy murmuring to each other, laughing in a low exchange.

When you glance down, you spot a shovel half-buried into the ground, its handle sticking out. Carefully, you wriggle it free, having to grit your teeth to fully remove it. This will let you stun one while you deal with the other. Inhaling deeply to center yourself, palm tight over the splintered wood handle, you close in on the two guards.

The shorter one with curly hair spots you just before you take a swing, his eyes widening. The shovel slams into his skull, effectively making him stumble to the ground, but slips from your grip from the force. The other guard whirls around, hand slapping for the pistol at his belt. You deliver three consecutive stabs to his stomach, heart, and cheek. The gun never leaves his waist before he falls dead.

You suck in a gulp of air just as the curly-haired one regains his footing. His head is still heavy from the blow, and before he can draw his knife, you shove him in the chest, sending him crashing to the ground. You pin him easily beneath you, his movements sluggish and weak. The two of you wrestle in the grass, jagged breaths mixing with frantic, scraping nails, until, with a snarl, your knife finds purchase in his neck, stealing the life from his eyes in an instant. You stab him again and again, shaking, until the ticking urgency pulls you back into control. With a deep breath, you steady yourself and wiggle the knife lodged in his trachea, your hands slippery with blood.

"You got death," you spit in a whisper, thumbing his lids shut.

You lift up.

Now you have a single gun.

It is an old thing. Outdated and far from the military-grade weapons Ghost has. It takes a moment to figure out the parts—your fingers fumble for the small magazine, which is stocked with three bullets. You pull the slide to chamber a round with a click and keep it ready in your hand as you circle the building toward the back, praying that Nereida managed. When you find her, she is stood over the man's body, a deep cut oozing on her cheek.

"He saw me," she says, swallowing. "But I did it."

You nod. "We need to hide them before we go in."

All three bodies are hidden behind the hay stacks. You cover them with manure to mask the smell, not wanting a horde of Greys to materialize. You'd spotted a door at the back and hope it may be more discreet then blazing in through the front, given that you don't know who all is in there. Finger ready on the trigger, you hold your breath as you lead Nereida into the old building, instantly met with the rich smell of pennies. The space quickly unfolds into an old butcher house, rusted hooks hanging from the stone ceiling, the air cramped and cold. 

"Une femme? Maman ne voudrait pas de toi—"

The voice echoes in your ear as you round the corner, and then a fiery bullet rips into the owner's chest. Nereida flinches. Another guard comes barreling over, shouting, but you slide the chamber and shoot him in the head.

You don't linger by the bodies, itching to check the first steel door you see. You lower the gun only to pull at the handle, but it won't budge.

"Check him for keys," you motion to the dead guard.

Nereida crouches, hands rifling through his pockets until she yanks free a ring of keys. Her fingers shake as she tries them one by one, the lock stubborn—until, at last, it gives. With a sharp tug, the door groans open, revealing a windowless chamber. In the center, a lone captive hangs from chains.

It’s Price. Shackles bite into his wrists, his bare chest mapped with deep bruises against pale skin. Beaten, but unbroken—his gaze sharp as it lifts to meet yours. Nereida chokes on a sob, ripping the hood off her head and sinking to her knees before him, cupping his jaw.

A weighted baritone manages: "Duchess."

"There is nowhere I will not find you," she croaks. Teary kisses find the corner of his mouth. "I'm here, I'm here."

"How did you—"

"We got out. Where are the others?" you ask.

His jaw grits. "I haven't seen them since they knocked us out."

"They must be here somewhere. We need to move quick before someone notices the bodies."

After finding the small key to undo the manacles, you leave them to each other for the moment, continuing down the hall until the next door. An undeniable pull rises in your chest, something that has nothing to do with the adrenaline rushing through you—something you can’t quite name. But when you open the door, your heart falters with unwelcome disappointment at the sight of Kyle. He looks equally battered, but still aware enough to lift his head as you step in.

"Who are you?" 

You lift the veil.

"It's me," you answer, the words almost lost in the rush of emotions. Only when you fully take in the room do you notice Ari, curled in the corner. They’ve put them in here together. While there are no obvious injuries on the boy, the sight of the open Bible on his lap, and the empty dinner plate beside him, sends a cold shiver down your spine. You touch his cheek, feeling warmth, and reassure him he’s safe.

You release both of them. "Price and Nereida are through the door down the left. I need to find Ghost. I’ll be back."

Kyle rubs his wrists and manages to stand despite his black eye and shaky legs. "I’ll come with you."

"No. I’ll get him." The words come out sharper than you mean to, but you turn away before he can question them.

You are pulled further through the tight, cold hallway, movements turning more hurried as you look around. There are a few more half-opened doors, but they only lead to supply closets filled with whips and metal batons and empty chambers where old blood stains the floors. Something sharp tugs at your heart, and for the first time since initiating your escape, your fingertips succumb to a tremor of fear. 

Where is he?

The hall spits out into a room where dried animal carcasses hang from the walls.

One final door sits on the far end.

The rusted lock resists, swears hissing from your lips—until a sharp kick forces it open.

The smell thickens with fresh blood, and a cold pit sinks into your stomach at the sight of him—bound in chains, his body slumped haphazardly. Unlike the others, he doesn’t lift his head. You rush forward, a shaky breath catching in your throat as you take in the blood caked on his shoulder blades, deep welts splitting through the inked skin. His back, too, is covered in wounds. He looks worse—so much worse—that a bite of anger swells moisture in your eyes.

"Simon, you idiot. What did you do?" The words slip out on a sharp inhale as you lower yourself in front of him. "Simon," you whisper again, silent tears hot against your lips. You thread a hand through his hair, tilting his jaw up with careful fingers. His eyes are heavy, but relief finds you when they flutter open. He’s alive. The reddened whites flicker over your face, unfocused—until something strange sharpens the haze. A flicker of fear.

"It's me, Simon. We're getting out of here."

The brief fear shifts into shock when he recognizes your face, and only after you fumble with the key ring does understanding click into place, causing his jaw to flex. "Where... where is she?"

"I don't know, but we need to hurry. They have her." You undo the manacles, and his body rolls heavily into you, face falling onto your collarbone. You struggle to hold him up, gripping his shoulders without touching the wounds. A low groan bleeds through his teeth, and his eyes flutter shut again. No, no, no. "Please, you have to... you have to get up, Simon. I can't—she's going to fucking die!"

His upper chest rapidly expands with a breath, and he musters the strength to lift his weight off you and slap a hand against the wall. As he leverages his weight up, you help by grabbing beneath his other arm, until a final rush of adrenaline gets him on his feet. Urgency snaps tension into his limp shoulders, and he growls out another, more steady, breath.

"Price," he says.

"He's alive. Come on."

It takes some effort to help him walk at first, but eventually, he manages on his own. You guide him to the first room, where the others are pacing, murmuring in low voices.

"Simon, Jesus," Price mutters when he sees him.

Ghost brushes it off, his eyes narrowing. "They're going to kill her."

"At sunrise," you add, your voice tight. You pull out the pistol and show it to them. "I have one bullet left. I don't know how many more men are in this cult, but we've killed six so far."

"We have one shitty old gun." Kyle growls in frustration. "They took all our shit. How are we going to—"

"We find the weapons. They must have stored them somewhere," Price says.

"We can't just go searching through every building here. We don't have the time," you press. "And how are we supposed to get it back without everyone noticing we're gone?"

"I don't give a fuck about the guns. We find her first," Ghost grits, nostrils flaring. 

"We can't help her if we don't think things through. We can't just start a war with these people empty-handed, Simon," Price says.

"We find her first!"

"Simon," you say, reaching for his arm, but he pulls it away, clenching his bloody fist. The energy radiating from him would scare you if you didn't feel the same way.

Just then, there is the faint sound of a door opening and footsteps clanging through the hall. You tense up, two male voices shouting in echoes, one of them vaguely familiar.

"Quelqu'un les a tués ! On doit régler cette merde avant que Maman découvre quoi que ce soit."

"Les putains de prisonniers!"

Before you can react, Ghost snatches the pistol from your grip. The second they rush toward the open door, he launches at them—an elbow to one’s face, the butt of the gun breaking the nose of the other. Price uses Nereida's knife to stab the fallen guard, while Kyle helps Ghost subdue the second one. You only recognize him as the man who made you strip when they forcibly drag him toward the manacles, the sight of his blonde hair making your nails curl into your palms.

"You stupid fucking Brits!"

Ghost strikes the gun into his left eye, making him jerk within the constraints, howling as the socket turns into bloody pulp. 

Kyle grips the man's scalp from behind to hold his head up, while Ghost presses the gun into his cheek, where you notice a wound shaped like a bite mark.

"Tell us where she is," he roars. "Or I'll take the other eye."

Nereida cowers into the corner, holding onto Ari's arm. 

"I don't know!" the man spits blood, and Ghost digs the gun into his cheek, ripping it open further until the bitten flesh hangs as a torn flap, exposed all the way to his eye. The scream that follows feels inhuman. "I swear, I don't—I don't fucking know!"

Fresh blood drips to the floor. Price, much more calm, lowers at the man's side. "How many people live here?"

The man grits his teeth, struggling to answer, "T-thirty males, and six females. Plus the infants."

Twenty-two now, you count in your head.

"And the weapons we had. What about those?" Price questions further.

When only staggered, pained breaths fills the room, Ghost tosses the bloody gun and grabs the knife from Price, stabbing the man's kneecap without hesitation. Another scream ensues, and there is the small itch to cover your ears, but you steel yourself against the wall to keep watching.

"Answer the fucking question." Ghost twists the knife in his knee.

He cries out, more bloody spittle flying from his mouth. "All of the ammo is hidden. Only A-Alexandre knows!"

"Who is Alexandre?"

“Maman's son, he enforces her commands and oversees the males.”

"Where is he?" Price asks, voice hard.

“He… he resides in the work shed, while the rest of us sleep in the quarters within the barn.”

You step forward. "We saw another building outside with just one guard, that must be it."

There is a beat of silence as Price processes the information, giving Ghost a satisfied nod. With pain still contorting his face, the man's eye drifts past Ghost's shoulder toward you. His lips twitch into a faint, bloody smirk that makes your skin crawl. Ghost follows his gaze, snarls, and abruptly slashes the man's throat from ear to ear.

B

It is still dark when Eloise comes to awaken her, though Blue's eyes never once fell shut with sleep. She spent the short-lived night alternating between staring at the crescent moon outside the window, and fiddling with the knitting needles left on the table. There is a new dress in the woman's clutch, beautiful white fabric embroidered with flowers, and a pair of beautiful leather shoes in the other hand.

"See? I told you the dress would be nicer." She smiles and hands it over, as if to offer something to be thrilled for. "You must change quickly. There is a lovely breakfast of framboises and milk waiting for you. Put these on as well." She sets the shoes on the floor.

Blue thinks it strange, to bother feeding her just before her death. Blankly, she asks, "How many people will be there? To watch me die."

Eloise's smile quivers slightly, a slight crack in her composure. "Not too many, I assure you. Only a few of us women, and one or two worthy men. Most are still sleeping." After a pause, she adds even quieter, almost ashamed, "Be thankful you don’t suffer through childbirth instead. It is... a painful thing. Long, too. At least this pain will be honorable and swift."

Blue's fingers tighten around the dress. "Okay. Do you mind if I change alone, please?"

Eloise bows her head. "Of course."

She casts one last gentle glance her way before shuffling out of the room, locking the door behind her and leaving Blue with only the dress and shoes. Once the door is closed, Blue quickly slips the dress on, shuddering as the cold fabric caresses her limbs. It’s more beautiful than anything she can remember ever wearing, and that disgusts her. Swallowing the churn in her stomach, she grabs the needles and sits back on the bed.

The wounds on her feet are shallow, her fingernails only able to pierce the thick skin slightly. Using the needles, she digs into them deeper, trembling from the pain that throbs as fresh blood begins to seep from the soles. She cuts and cuts furiously, teeth gritted, praying it’s enough to soak into the shoes she slips on over the new wounds. She covers the blood stains on the sheet with the blanket, then stands, almost crying out from the agony of walking on her torn feet.

"Please dad," she whispers, closing her eyes briefly, before calling to Eloise that she is ready.

"But if they don't manage to kill her... her punishment for me will be worse." "Is everything alright, miss? You've been in there for a while." "What are you doing with the female? It’s forbidden!" "A woman? Maman wouldn’t want you—" "Someone killed them! We need to fix this shit before Maman finds out anything." "The fucking prisoners!"

[a-babe-without-a-name]

Sit Next To Me

Chapter 3: That’s Actually Very Unreasonable.

You had created two rules for yourself.

Rule One: You could do whatever you wanted. Get the degree you want, party when you want, cancel plans when you want, love who you want. Whatever you really wanted to do, you were going to do, anxiety and guilt free.

Rule Two: You could do whatever you wanted, except for have relationships with classmates. No sex, no dating. If they were on the same course roster as you, they were off limits.

Easy enough, right?

...Right?

Viktor x Female!Reader - 18+

A.N. Yay! Ch 3 is finally done! I pay Rugby and practice started up this week, which is a big reason this wasn't done a little bit sooner. But thank you to everyone for bearing with me and thank you SO MUCH for the support. I've received so many kind comments and messages, I'm so happy that I decided to actually finish and post this instead of letting it it in my google drive. Chapter 4 is coming, I'm not gonna promise when, but its on the way.

At the request of at least one person, I'm going to start a tag list in the replies of each chapter, lmk if you want to be added to that!

ALSO. Someone sent in a request and I am very excited about this. I wasn't planning on asking for requests, but I think it would be good for me to use those as a brain break from the main long form story. So if anyone is interested, feel free to send one shot or head canon requests my way! NSFW or SFW is fine! If you have questions, send an ask :) Anyways, I'll shut up now. Enjoy <3

Read on AO3

Waking up on Saturday was…difficult, to say the least.  After spending the summer mostly sober, save for the occasional drink with your dad or joint by yourself, your body was not prepared for the previous night's substance intake. You felt grimy when you came to in your bed. Your skin sticky from sweat, your mouth dryer than all hell, and your brain felt like it had been shaken in a jar. Laying there, face in your pillow, the pros and cons of climbing out of bed tumbled around your head.

You decided that if it was before noon, you’d allow yourself a few more hours of sleep, otherwise you had to get up. Blindly you stuck a hand onto the counter at the head of your bed, knocking things left out from last night around until you found your phone. The bright screen made your temple pulse when you clicked it on.

12:01.

You dropped your head and groaned into the pillow. A deal was a deal, though, even with yourself. You gave yourself grace as you sat up in bed, looking around your tiny double dorm room. Bright light shone around the edge of the blinds, making you squint. Clothes were still scattered around your side, your hightops dropped haphazardly on the floor, not far from your shorts. You had barely managed to piss, brush your teeth, and put on clean underwear before knocking out last night. You could still feel what little makeup you had on last night smeared around your eyes. All of your pre-made plans to hydrate and clean up before going to bed were abandoned as soon as you set foot into your room. 

Lest on the other hand, looked like a princess in her bed. Washed hair in two braids, fresh pjs on, and her trusty sleep mask covering her eyes. She even layed like a princess, flat on her back with her hands folded on her stomach. You envied her discipline for hygiene even when drunk. 

You slid out of bed. Bracing yourself on the frame with a groan when your stomach flipped. Lest didn’t even flinch, she slept both like a princess and a log. You left on the clothes you slept in, wrapped a towel around your waist, and gathered your shower bag. First order of business was to clean up, because even one more minute of feeling like you were covered in a film of alcohol and smoke and you were gonna peel your skin off. 

The shared hallway was aggressively bright, but fortunately empty. You were sure you couldn’t handle an awkward ‘on the way to the shower’ run in with a hallmate right now. You’d probably throw up on the carpet. Luckily on a well weathered first Saturday of the semester, the hall was virtually abandoned. Which also meant that the only single user bathroom on your side of the building was free.

You leaned heavily against the closed door, eyes screwed shut as you fought back the wave of nausea that came with your short walk. With your eyes closed you found the automatic light switch, pushing the button to shut the lights down. The frosted window let in just enough light to see without burning your eyes out. You hung up your things and started the shower, knowing it would take a while for it to warm up. 

You took that time to brush your teeth, sick of the grit that lined your mouth. When you saw yourself in the mirror you couldn't help but to cringe. You were a wreck. The makeup around your eyes was worse than you imagined, smeared completely around your eyes in an intense racoon mask. Your hair was half out of the scrunchie you had pulled it into on the way home, hanging awkwardly on your neck. As you brushed your teeth, you tilted your head at the borrowed shirt realizing something off about it. You frowned at it in the mirror, trying to make out what the writing said. Whatever it was, it wasn’t Metallica. You spit in the sink and set your toothbrush to the side before pulling the shirt over your head. It didn’t say Metallica, it said Mozart in the Metallica font. 

You snorted a laugh, “Jayce, what the fuck?” Folding the shirt up, you shoved it into your bag, hoping you'd remember to wash it with your laundry. When you caught a glimpse of your bare torso in the mirror, you froze. 

Memories of last night came flooding back as you stared at the red marks scattered across your body. An unsteady line of hickeys connected one hip bone to the other,  a few were splayed up across your stomach and in a cluster across your chest. There was even one framed by a perfect bite mark on the top of your shoulder. 

“God damn…” You muttered, turning in the mirror in search of more. While you didn’t find any more hickeys sucked into your skin, you did find thin bruises on the sides of both your thighs from his fingers digging into your flesh. 

You stepped closer to the mirror, ghosting your fingertips over the marks. You couldn’t help but shudder at the memory of his hands on you. You could still feel him against you, his lips, his tongue, his teeth. You gripped the edge of the sink, willing the thoughts away. It was a hookup with a stranger who’s name wasn’t even known to you. It wasn’t going to happen again. 

Despite that fact, you thought of him in the shower until the water ran cold.

-----

Lest was awake when you made it back to your room. In the time it took you to shower she had managed to get dressed, make both herself and you coffee and frozen breakfast sandwiches, clean up your side of the room, and get the first season of Love Island up on your TV. She was stirring creamer into her coffee when you came in.

“Goodmorning,” You said, locking your door behind you, “How long have you been up?”

“Like, 45 minutes,” She said, setting the creamer to the side for you, “Were you in the shower that whole time?”

“Er, yeah, sorry. I wanted to shave,” You lied, a little surprised at how long you had actually been gone. You hoped Lest wouldn’t notice that you definitely had not shaved.

You dressed quickly. You and Lest had never been shy about changing in front of each other, but right now you had yourself angled awkwardly against your closet, praying to god she didn’t catch a glimpse of the love bites you were sporting. Luckily you managed to pull on a tshirt and sweats without her noticing. It’s not like you needed to hide from her, you usually told her everything as soon as it happened, but this time you wanted to keep it to yourself. At least for a little bit. You knew she’d have something, probably valid, to say about the complete unknown of the man you had sex with. She’d scold you on how dangerous it was and drag you to the health center to get tested for an STD.

“How’re you feeling?” She asked as you made up your coffee.

“A little like I was hit by a truck,” You shrugged, putting the cream away in your tiny fridge, “But I’ve definitely felt worse. You?”

“Better than I thought I would,” Lest told you, starting the show, “I didn’t drink much towards the end, and I didn’t smoke at all so I guess it makes sense.”

“You’re lucky,” You joked, climbing into bed with your coffee and breakfast, “We’re still doing nothing today right?”

“Oh, for sure.” Lest said nodding with wide eyes, “This is probably the last weekend we’ll be able to actually push homework off. Everything can wait until tomorrow.”

“Works for me,” You nodded, sipping your coffee and tuning into the trashy reality show you and Lest were hooked on.

You realized pretty quickly that all the gorgeous men and women and unhealthy relationships in the world wouldn’t distract you enough. You had figured post your incredibly long shower you’d be free of Pretty Boy, that the memory of him would ebb away. No luck.

By the time Micheal had been cast out of the Villa, you had managed to replay last night's events a hundred times in your head. It wasn’t just the sex that you were hyper focused on, it was every second you were near him. You kept thinking about how he looked in the kitchen, the way the lights moved over his skin and hair. The fact that even in the dark his eyes were still so bright and warm. You could hear  the lilt of his accent in your head, all the words he said to you, all the things he called you. 

What really stuck with you was how soft it all had been. How gentle and kind he had been with you. The way his voice sounded when he asked if you were leaving. How much you wished you had said no. This was going to haunt you for at least a week, you knew it would. You were preparing for it to be a very hard and very unfocused week.

Lest called you out a few times during the lazy afternoon, questioning your mental absence from the shared room. You brushed her off with excuses of exhaustion and nausea. You could tell she was worried, but you couldn’t bring yourself to tell her. Eventually, not many hours after waking up, you let yourself fall asleep to the thought of his lips on yours.

-------

On Sunday you woke up well before the sun, thanks to your early bedtime. You stared up at the ceiling, willing yourself back to sleep, but as your room slowly turned from pitch black into grey tones you knew it wasn’t going to happen. Quietly you pulled yourself out of bed and got ready for the day. It was barely even six by the time you were finished getting ready, but you were restless. Scribbling a note for Lest, you left your dorm. 

There was a time when you’d go on a walk before the sun was fully up every morning. It was when you enjoyed campus the most. The cold and quiet of it was comforting, it felt like home. Almost completely deserted at this hour. The only souls you ever saw this early were the landscapers, perfecting the small campus before the day began, and the occasional early rising professor walking a beloved campus dog. On a Sunday, though, it was truly empty. 

You wandered without really knowing where you were going, you let your feet remember the familiar path they once took so frequently. The sun barely peeked over the line of trees and brick buildings, casting long shadows over the quad. Dew grayed the grass, evaporating where the sun touched it. Eventually you reached the flower garden nestled between the two original buildings of the campus. You settled on a cold stone bench, the dedication plaque so worn it was nearly unreadable. 

You looked around the garden. The variety of flowers were in full bloom as the summer came to a close, each one tended to with great care. It was a sacred place on campus, for everyone. It was where most students had been introduced to the school, the garden being the meeting spot for all campus tours. During both matriculation and graduation, students paraded through it. The flowers were both a beautiful welcome and a bittersweet goodbye to those who chose Piltover for their education. It was impossible not to love it.

You sighed and picked at a patch of lichen on the edge of the bench. Remembering what else you used to do on these early walks, another habit you regretfully fell out of. You dragged your knees up to your chest and pulled your phone from your hoodie pocket. Your fingers were on autopilot as they navigated to your contacts.

It rang only once.

“Good morning Buddy,” Your dad’s voice was warming even through the phone.

“Good morning,” You said, leaning your cheek against your knee, “How are you?”

“I’m good, just getting ready to head out on the boat,” You could hear him shuffling around as he spoke. You could picture him, preparing for the day in the kitchen, “How are you? You’re up pretty early.”

“Working on a Sunday? That’s unlike you,” You joked, it was actually very like him, “I fell asleep early last night, couldn't go back to bed.”

“No, actually, not working today,” You heard the front door of your house open and close, “I’m headed out with the guys. The weathers going to be good for some deep fishing, today.”

“Oh good, that’ll be nice. I hope the catch is good,” You were glad he was taking time for himself, “Send me pictures if you get anything cool.”

“Of course buddy,” He laughed, you heard his truck start up, “Wait, so you went to bed early on a Saturday night? When did you become so boring?”

You scoffed, “Excuse me, are you mad that I am a responsible adult?”

“That’s not what I said!” He assured you.

“Yeah sure,” You rolled your eyes but smiled anyways, “Besides, it was friday night that I was out until three in the morning, rest assured I am certainly not boring.”

“Hm, okay,” He was quiet for a moment, “You’re making good decisions, I hope? Staying safe.”

You groaned at the implications of his words, embarrassed that they weren't actually that far off. He didn’t need to know that, though.

“Yes Dad, I am making perfectly fine decisions,” You half lied to him.

“Good to know. I’m too young to be a grandfather.”

“Ew,” You fake gagged, “Don’t say stuff like that.”

He laughed on the other end. It had been a week and a half since you saw him last, but you already missed the sound of him laughing, “How was your first week of classes?”

“Good,” You told him, “So far at least. I mean, it's the first week and I already have a good amount of homework to do, which sucks, but I think I can handle it.”

“Yeah, you’ve got this, though,” He assured you, never not confident in your abilities, “You always do. What classes are you taking again?”

“I have two envi-sci classes right now, one with a lab, a chemistry class with a lab, and I’m taking an Asian American Lit class, to keep myself from going crazy in the science building.” You told him, thinking about your particularly heavy science schedule, “I’m trying to switch chemistry classes, though. There's a smaller class with a…better professor. Not that my current professor is bad, it’s just that Heimerdinger is, like, the best professor here. I’d like to take at least one class with him. I’m on the waiting list.”

“Sounds like a good schedule. I’m glad you're taking a non-science class, it’ll be good for your brain,” He told you, “And I’ll cross my fingers you get into that class you want.”

“Thanks, I appreciate it.” You laughed, at this point you didn’t have much hope for getting in, but you could always try next semester.

“Hey, has your mom talked to you?” The question made you groan. 

“No, why?” You didn’t particularly want to talk to her, not since her 2nd remarriage last summer. 

“She called the other day and asked if she could have you for Christmas this year?” He was treading carefully, “I think you should.”

‘What? No way,” You answered immediately, offended at the idea that you would want to do that, “First of all, I’m not 15 anymore, neither of you get to have me, I can decide where I want to go for breaks. And second, Why would I want to spend break in Arizona with her child groom and his infant children?”

He was, clearly, not a child groom. Paul was 35, but in comparison to your mother’s age- 45- he might as well be a teenager. His kids weren’t infants either, 9 & 14, but, again, they might as well have been. 

“Hey, I know, I trust you to make your own decisions, but I also know that you’ve developed a lot of anger recently with your mom,” He sighed, “I don’t want you to have a bad relationship with her your whole life, it’s not healthy.”

“Really milking those two years of psychology undergrad, huh,” You joked bitterly. Your dad would have been the best therapist in the world if he had finished school. Your surprise arrival put an end to that half dream instantly. He never resented you for it. 

“I’m serious, buddy,” His voice was calm, urging you to be open, “It wouldn’t have to be for the whole break, just a couple days around Christmas. If you want to spend the rest of the time here with me you can, obviously. Just think about it?”

“Fine…I’ll think about it,” You pouted, he could convince you of anything, “But no promises.”

“Thank you, sorry for springing this on you right now.” You could hear chatter somewhere behind him, he was probably at the docks by now.

“It’s okay, sorry for being a brat about it,” You laughed softly.

“You’d be nothing without your attitude,” He teased, in the background you could hear someone calling his name.

“I get it from you,” That wasn’t entirely true, you and him both knew it, “But hey, I’ll let you go, sounds like you’re needed.”

“Yeah, the guys just showed up,” He admitted, “I can tell them to wait for a bit though if you want to keep talking?”

“Nah, it’s okay,” You insisted, checking the time, “I should probably go, anyways. Me and Lest are gonna go work on homework in a bit.”

“Okay, no problem,” He told you, you wished you could talk to him all day, you wished you were going fishing with him, “I’m proud of you, buddy, and I love you so much.”

“Love you too, Dad,” You said, trying to hold back tears, “Have fun out there, be safe.”

“Always am. Tell Lest I say hello for me, Love you.” He let you hang up the phone. 

You wrapped your arms around your legs and buried your head in your knees, unable to hold back the sobs. You let yourself cry. You didn’t think this was how you’d start your morning, but it was fine. Almost cathartic in a way, to let yourself be sad about something as childish as missing your dad who was only a day. You knew it was fine and very normal, but it still felt immature. Regardless, you let yourself cry until Lest finally texted you.

-------

The rest of the day was just as unexpected. When you headed back to your dorm Lest had just started to get ready. You laid in your bed, scrolling through your phone until she was ready. In the hour or so it took her to shower, get dressed, and gather her school work, the weather took a drastic change. You had wanted to lay out on the quad and do work, but the soft sunny sky was full of clouds now, all threatening rain. Instead, you and Lest headed to the small coffee shop on campus. Here it was much harder to focus. You camped out at a table in the corner, despite this everyone who knew you or her came over to chat. Meaning the amount of work you finished was…disappointing, to say the least. 

Then, due to the cafe's short Sunday hours, you had to relocate once again. At the overly polite requests of the baristas, you packed up and hauled off to the library. You wished you had come here in the first place. It was pretty much vacant this time of day and you and Lest set up in the quiet section, assuring no one would bother you even if they wanted to. Workflow was steady now, you managed to knock out one assignment after another. In the quiet of the library you were even able to focus on your textbook readings enough to take notes. 

As the afternoon began to turn to evening and the library began to fill up, you were finally in the home stretch. Lest was on her last set of practice questions for her math class and you had one more reading and a chemistry practice test to do. You’d probably be back to your room within the hour. You opened up the practice test, determined to get everything done. 

It was harder than you had expected. Some of the questions were fairly basic, things you knew from level one and even highschool chemistry, and there were a few that took a little effort but were fresh in your head from last semester. Almost half the questions, though, were questions that were completely foreign to you. You could make out bits and pieces of it in your brain. Some questions gently touched by your previous professors and others that you could make shaky assumptions on. You tried to remind yourself that this was a practice test for a reason, but the shitty score you knew would show at the end still bothered you. In the end you got 65%. 

You opened up your email to check for submission confirmation before moving on to the reading. A recent message at the top of the box made you pause. You read it quickly once, twice, three times. 

“I’m off the waitlist,” You told Lest, flinching when someone at a nearby table shushed you.

“What?” She whispered, leaning closer to see your laptop.

“I’m off the waitlist for chem,” You whispered back, opening up the class portal and accepting the offer.

“I thought you were in a chem class already?” She raised an eyebrow at you.

“Yeah, but I got into the class with the professor I actually want,” You explained, wishing you could be more excited than the setting allowed. 

“Oh, that's…good,” You could tell she didn’t quite get it, but wanted to be happy for you anyways.

“Yes, it’s very good,” You laughed, pushing your chair away from the table, “and as a reward, I’m gonna go piss.”

“Babe, please don’t give yourself a UTI because you only pee after academic success,” Lest jokingly begged, rubbing the space between her eyebrows.

You couldn’t hold back a laugh as you walked away from the table, ignoring the dirty looks from other tables. You were thrilled, a class with Heimerdinger genuinely opened up a world of connections. He knew scientists in every field all over the world. Of course, as the dean of the science department, he was willing to help any student make connections, but it was definitely easier if you were in his class. You were so happy about this, you didn’t mind that the practice test you just spent an hour on was for a class you were about to drop. 

You pulled out your phone, shooting off a text to your dad.

Got into the class I wanted! Thx 4 crossing ur fingers

He responded immediately.

Yay… that’s great, happy for you… wanna see the catch today?

You shook your head at the ellipses habit he refused to break. Such an old man.

TY!!! Yes obvi. Fish Now. 

He sent back a photo of himself and one of the older guys he fished with holding an impressively sized mahi mahi.

Omg mahi this late in the szn is craaazzyyy, very jealous

You couldn’t help the pang of sadness that bloomed in your chest. Missing your dad intensely for the second time that day.

Yeah, me and the guys were surprised for sure…I got go, talk to you later?

Oki!

Love you Buddy

Love u toooo

You slammed into someone in your distraction as you hit send. The apology coming out of your mouth only made it halfway, your mind and body freezing up at the flash of chestnut hair and pale skin above you. 

“Woah, watch it.” The guy, who you realized a second later was not in fact Pretty Boy, snapped at you.

“Sorry,” Your voice came out like a squeak, you cleared your throat, speaking louder, “Sorry, I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, it’s…uh it’s fine,” Not Pretty Boy said, looking down at you oddly, “Are you okay?”

You realized you were staring at him, studying all the ways in which he wasn’t Pretty Boy. Too stocky, face too round, hair too long, eyes a dull green. 

“Uh, yeah. I’m fine, sorry,” You shook your head, stepping past him as you apologized again.

You hurried off to the restroom, face burning as you locked yourself into a stall. You had managed to keep him out of your head all day. You dressed without looking at the marks he left behind, you kept your mind busy with work and thoughts of your family situation, you barely even acknowledged the fact that you had a body. 

And now after all that work, here you were, unable to think about anything besides him. You groaned and thumped your head against the stall door, knowing he’d be inescapable for the rest of the night. 

You stared at your hand on your leg, fingers digging into the bruises under your jeans. You had set your book down for the hundredth time, barely halfway through the reading, distracted again.  Every time you tried to read the words on the page, you wouldn’t get far. Unable to process any of the information you were looking at. It all felt like a different language. You could feel his hands pressing into your legs, his lips on your neck, accent in your ears.

Something hitting your forehead made you jump, startling you out of the daydream.

“Earth to struggling student,” Lest whispered, crumpling another sticky note and launching it at you.

You swatted the yellow paper away, frowning at her, “What?”

“Girl, where have you been this weekend?” Lest hissed, leaning across the table, eyebrows furrowed, “You’ve been weird ever since Jayce’s party. Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” You shrugged.

“Okay, liar,” She deadpanned, rolling her eyes, “What’s up?”

“Nothing!” You insisted, rifling the pages of your book. 

She stared at you, blink her big eyes expectantly. At this point, she wasn’t going to give up.

“I hooked up with someone at the party” You muttered, not looking at her.

“What?” She gasped, ignoring the looks from other tables. She stood and took the seat next to you, pulling her chair close and leaning in, “When?”

“When I went to wash my top in the garage,” You told her, chewing on your lip, “I wasn’t exactly smoking alone,”

“Oh my god!” She squeaked, eyes wide, “You fucked someone in Jayce and Cait’s garage??”

“Shhh,” You placed a palm over her mouth, worried about wandering ears, “Be quiet, I don’t need the whole student body to know.”

She just blinked at you over the top of your hand, waiting.

“Yeah, in the garage,” You could feel your face getting hot.

“Did you guys… like, get a home run? Or only make it to 3rd base?” She raised an eyebrow.

“What are you? 12?” You scoffed, glancing sideways as you told her, “...home run.”

“Good girl!” She punched you lightly on the arm, “Wait, that’s why you’ve been so spacy? You’ve been thinking about your little garage escapade all weekend?”

“Lest, you don't get it,” You insisted, “It was, like, amazing. Quite possibly the best sex I have ever had in my entire life. Like, honeymoon waited until marriage but somehow still perfect at it kind of sex.”

“No way,”

“Yes way, bitch,” You said, raising your eyebrows at her, “yes fucking way.”

“Damn…” She stared down at the table, then quirked her head to the side, “Who?”

There it was, the reason you hadn’t told her as soon as it happened.

“Um, well…” You hesitated. Lest narrowed her eyes at you, you could see her mind scrolling the list of possibilities. You cringed, “I don’t exactly know.”

Lest gaped at you, “What?”

“We were both high,” You admitted sheepishly, “And kind of caught up with other things. Names didn’t come up.”

“Are you crazy?”

“He was nice!” You defended, “Like, so fucking nice.”

“That is so dangerous!” She scolded, more concerned than mad, “Did you use a condom?”

“Christ, Lest, of course,” You rolled your eyes, “I’m not dumb.”

“I know, but you said you were high,” She shrugged, “Just wanted to make sure I didn’t need to find a way to squeeze a crib into our dorm.” 

“Twenties pregnancy is no joke,” You told Lest, trying to hold your face straight as long as you could before the corners of your mouth cracked upwards. 

“Damn, so great sex guy is anonymous,” She sighed, “That’s kind of a bummer. He goes here right?”

“He said he did,” You told her, “That’d be an odd thing to lie about, right?”

“Yeah, well, maybe you’ll see him at another party?” She said, hopeful.

“Yeah, maybe,” You sighed, “I don’t know, it was so good I almost don’t want to do it again.”

“That makes zero sense,” she scrunched her nose.

“I mean, I fucked this guy once for, like, an hour.” You explained, “And he is all I’ve been able to think about for the past two days. Do I really want to do this again?”

“Well, if you make it a habit,” She offered.

“I don’t know,” You sighed, shaking your head, “It sucks, but I think it’s better if it doesn't happen again. I don’t think my grades could handle it.” You waved the book you had tried and failed to read for the past hour. 

“Skill issue.” She shrugged, shutting her laptop, “Do you have to finish that reading tonight? I wanna get dinner.”

“Uh, thanks Lest, very cool,” You scoffed, rolling your eyes at her joke, “And I’m not going to be able to anyways. I’ll finish it before class tomorrow.”

“Okay good,” Lest said, standing and stretching her arms over her head, “I’ll get us Thai if you promise details.”

“Hm, you know, I’m not against trading my secrets for pad thai and mango rice,” You laughed, packing your stuff up.

Clasping her hands together she determined, “This is, like, better than Love Island.” 

You just scoffed, shaking your head at her.

-------

As thrilled as you were to be taking Heimerdinger's class, there was one tiny drawback. It was your first and only seven am. You had managed four whole semesters of not having to be in a class until at least nine. That was very much on purpose, because dragging yourself out of bed at five in the morning was not your idea of a good start to the day. 

As much as you wanted to skip past your first alarm and show up to class unshowered and in sweatpants, you figured that wasn’t the most professional first impression to make on the dean. So you got up like a good student. You took your time getting ready and double checking that you had everything you’d need for your two classes of the day, preferring to not haul back to the dorm between them. You had correctly calculated enough time to stop at the cafe on the way to grab coffee with a higher caffeine content than what you could make in your room. 

There were quite a few seven am classes available, but given that you were over 30 minutes early, the halls of the science building were still fairly deserted. A few offices were lit up and some classrooms had TAs setting up for the day, but not much student presence yet. When you found the room the schedule had directed you to, you were pleased to see it was empty. It’d be easier to talk to who you considered the most intimidating professor on campus without an audience.

The classroom was small, but you knew the lab attached through a door at the back would be much bigger. Professor Heimerdinger was sitting behind the desk at the front, fidgeting with the desktop computer. You knocked on the doorframe to get his attention.

“Good morning Professor Heimerdinger,” You greeted, stepping partially into the room as you told him your name, “I was on the waitlist until last night, I wasn’t sure if they told you I had moved off of it.”

“Oh! Good morning, dear,” He beamed from under his impressively large mustache, moving away from the computer, “Yes, it was mentioned that there may be a change in the roster. I’m glad you were able to move up from the waitlist. Welcome.”

“Thank you,” You smiled, you had never been in the same room as the esteemed man, only ever seen him give speeches or in passing around campus, you walked over to his desk, “I’m also glad to be here, I’ve been looking forward to taking one of your classes. I’ve heard great things.”

“That’s very kind of you to say,” He walked around his desk and extended a hand up towards you. Due to his short stature you had to bend just slightly at the waist to return the gesture, “I’m glad to have you in class, your name is familiar. Are you acquaintances with Mr. Jayce Talis, by chance?”

You knew Jayce had been lucky enough to score Heimerdinger as his advisor and close mentor, you were surprised he had mentioned you, though.

“Yes, actually, Jayce is a very close friend of mine,” You told him, trying to hide a nervous laugh, “Has he been speaking of me?”

“Only good things, my dear,” He said, picking up on your anxiety, “I assure you.”

“Good to know,” You laugh, hoping it wasn’t too loud in the small space, “Thank you, again, I am really grateful for the opportunity to be in your class.”

“Well of course,” He told you, moving back around his desk as he spoke, “Have you been able to acquire the reading materials for the class?”

“I ordered the textbook last night,” You explained, “I should have it by the end of the week. I’m sure I can borrow a copy from a classmate for the time being.”

“No need, I have an extra copy you are welcome to use until yours arrives,” He pulled a dense book from under his desk, “It’s an earlier edition, though, so just be sure that you read the correct sections.”

“Thank you, I appreciate it,” You took the worn book, he also handed you a printed syllabus, “Was there reading for today? I could try to get some of it done before class starts.”

“Last week’s schedule became a little jumbled due to my being under the weather, so the first reading is due next class, if you would like to review the syllabus and schedule before class, you will be all caught up,” He explained. You couldn’t describe the relief this gave you, “We only met for one class last week, so you aren’t behind, but the class has already been divided into groups for the semester. I apologize that you were not here for the grouping. I allow students to choose who they work with, so if you see someone you know feel free to join their group.”

“Okay, thank you.” You nodded and turned to find a seat.

As Heimerdinger returned back to his computer, you set up in the corner of the room. The syllabus was fairly basic, but gave a good explanation of the Professor’s expectations. You were sure this wasn’t going to be an easy class, but you were also sure you’d enjoy the challenge. The only thing that was making you anxious was the fact that  none of the students that showed up were familiar to you. You watched as the clock ticked closer and closer to seven, your knee bouncing under the table. You tried to distract yourself by skimming through the borrowed textbook, settling on a random section to pass the time with.

You were halfway through the chapter about asymmetric oxidation and reduction when a newer copy of the book was dropped on the table in front of you with a bang. You jumped, looking up in surprise.

“Hey stranger,” Jinx smirked down at you, nodding at your book,“Pretty impressive reading pace you’ve got there.”

“Jinx!” You stood, wrapping your arms around her, “I didn’t know you were in this class.”

“Ekko is too, he’ll be here in a minute,” She told you as you settled into your seats, the room was busy now, “Were you on the waitlist?”

“Yeah, this class was a bitch to get into,” You frowned, then realized something, “Wait, how did you get in? You’re a sophomore this year right? This is an upperclassmen class.”

She laughed sheepishly, shrugging, “Ha, well you know, nepotism isn't always bad.”

“No way, Silco got you in? You lucky bitch,” You gasped, but were not surprised that her dad, who happened to be a well respected professor in the business program, had managed to get her into a higher level class. 

“Yeah, and Ekko,” She pulled the rest of her things from her bag, blowing a strand of freshly dyed blue hair out of her face, “You should have told me, I could have gotten you in, too.”

“Sorry, friend nepotism didn’t cross my mind,” You laughed, waving at Ekko as he walked into the room, “I’ll keep it in mind for next time, though.”

“Always got your back, babe,” Jinx gave an over exaggerated smile, all teeth.

Ekko slid into the seat next to Jinx, setting a coffee cup down in front of her, “Hey, where were you last week?” He laughed, extended a fist out for you to bump.

“Still on the waitlist,” You laughed, pulling out your things as other students began to settle into their seats.

“Glad you're here,” He told you, “You wanna be part of our group right?”

“Yes please,” You said with exaggerated begging,“I was worried I’d have to join people I didn’t know.”

“Yeah, there’s a reason I drag him into every class I take,” Jinx laughed, jerking her thumb over to Ekko.

“Yeah, I’m sure the fact that I always give you my notes has nothing to do with it,” He raised an eyebrow at her.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” She stuck her nose up in the air, giving him a side eye.

You couldn’t help but to laugh at them, their large personalities combined to make one big ball of loud and colorful and smart. You had spent a lot of your free time during your summer research with them. Jinx had convinced you to join their little band and you three terrorized the others with very loud and not so great music playing. You were excited to be in class with them. Looking around, though, you noticed that all the other groups consisted of at least three people, some of them even holding five. 

“Are you guys a group of two?” You tilted your head, it would be odd for the Professor to let them do that in a class that seemed to be very group focused.

“What? Oh, no there’s three of us,” Ekko told you, “I don’t know if you’ve met him yet. It’s Jayce’s new roommate, Viktor. I don’t know why he isn’t here yet.”

You laughed, part of you still wondering if this was some insane joke that everyone was really really dedicated to, “Haven't met him, yet, but I’ve heard of him plenty of times.”

“Wasn’t he at the party on Friday?” Jinx asked, “He said Jayce had convinced him to go.”

“Jayce kept saying he was there, but I never ran into him,” You shrugged, “I’m still not convinced he’s real.”

“Yeah, you got us,” Jinx said, dead serious, “He isn’t real.”

“Wait what?” You side eyed her.

“Also we wrote gullible on the ceiling,” She rolled her eyes, you resisted the urge to look up, “Viktor is very real, I promise. He’s super smart too, like, almost as smart as me.”

“Always humble, babe,” Ekko said, patting Jinx on the arm, “Always humble.”

Class began then, Heimerdinger calling everyone's attention to the front of the room. You settled into the flow of it pretty quickly. You weren’t surprised that he managed to be an engaging professor. You’d sat through plenty of his speeches and presentations over the past two years, and never for a second did you find yourself bored during them. He gave a quick overview of what the next couple of weeks were going to look like and then passed around paper practice tests. You were a little disappointed to have to do another one.

This test ended up being somewhat easier than the one you had taken last night, only a few of the questions really escaped you. You could tell this was a test meant to gauge how much the class knew as opposed to how much they didn’t. You had just flipped to the last page when the door to the classroom opened. As much as you wanted to keep your eyes down and not contribute to the awkward stares you were sure everyone was already giving, instinct kicked in and you couldn't help but to glance up.

You froze.

There was no way.

This was not happening. 

You blinked a few times, mouth hanging open as you watched Pretty Boy lean over Heimerdinger's desk, speaking too quiet for you to hear with an apology written all over his face. Your heart dropped all the way down to the center of the earth, your lungs dried out and you felt like your head was under waves.

When Pretty Boy turned around, his perfect amber eyes immediately landed on yours. Freezing, his eyes widened slightly in an expression you were sure was identical to yours. Poorly hidden horror. You looked away, eyes dropping to your paper, the grip around your pencil was tight enough to turn your knuckles white. You could hear him walking straight for your table, cane tapping along with his footsteps.

You furrowed your eyebrows at the table. Why was he coming this way? There were plenty of other seats. Was now the time to confront you? In the quietest classroom imaginable. He slid into the seat next to you.

“Hey Viktor,” Jinx whispered, glancing up before going back to her test.

Viktor. He was Viktor. Pretty Boy was the roommate you were convinced didn’t exist. The one you had just told Jinx you had never met. The reality that you had, in fact, met him very intimately was crashing down around you. You raced back through your memory, all the little dots that you should have connected immediately snapped together. The music he was listening to, the smoking, that he was even in the garage in the first place, the reason you hadn’t recognized him despite being in your year, the fact that you never saw him leave the house. 

He fucking lived there. He was Jayce’s roommate. You had fucked Jayce’s roommate. 

You could feel his eyes on the side of your face as these thoughts ran through your head. You looked up at him, his closeness making you dizzy, but not in a pleasant way like last time. His face was nearly blank, only the slightest pull to his eyebrows that didn’t  give away any of his thoughts. You had never felt the desire to know what someone else was thinking, not really, not until this very moment. 

Not knowing what to do, you let out a shaky breath and went back to your paper. The room was too quiet to speak to him, you could do nothing but endure the remaining time it took for everyone to finish their tests and hope you didn’t faint.

You were keenly aware of his presence next to you. Everything was taken up by Pretty Boy. By Viktor. You could feel the heat of his leg close to yours, you could smell the cologne he was wearing. The scratching of his pen as he started the test was the only sound you could hear. You felt like you were going crazy. At this moment you were sure you could have been committed to a state hospital. The words on the page blurred in front of you. You scribbled out incorrect equations a dozen times before Hiemerdinger finally concluded that everyone was done. 

“I will review these and adjust our scheduled content accordingly,” He told the class as the tests were passed forward, “As an unplanned reward for enduring my data collection, please talk amongst yourselves while I battle with technology. I will begin today’s lesson as soon as possible.”

“Nice,” Jinx said to herself as chatter started up in the classroom, she turned to Pret- to Viktor, “Dude, where were you?”

“Sorry, I was stuck behind a school bus,” He told her, his accent was less thick than you remember, “it wasn’t a problem last week, I wasn’t prepared.”

“Oh, yeah, school just started this week for little kids,” She nodded, she was lost in thought for a moment, no doubt thinking about picking up Isha from school later. She snapped back to the present and told him your name, “She’s part of the larger group, I’m surprised you haven't met yet.”

His eyes met yours and when he said your name, you could have melted all the way to the ground floor, “It’s nice to meet you, are you…joining our group?”

It took you a moment to realize he was holding a hand out to you. You shook it, trying to be as firm as you could, but you knew your hands were shaking. 

“Nice to meet you, too, ” You said, “Um, I can find another group if you-”

“No,” He said, too quickly, “No, that’s not necessary, I’m glad to have you work with us.”

You did your best not to read into that, “Glad to be here.”

“Heimerdinger wanted us to schedule an out of class work time,” Ekko told you, drawing your attention away from Viktor’s face, “We were thinking Friday’s right after class, since we won’t have lab.”

“That works for me,” You nodded, trying to settle into your chair and be casual.

“Cool, I’ll send a calendar invite,” He said, always the proactive one.

“You are friends with Jayce?” Viktor asked, tilting his head at you.

“Yep,” You nodded awkwardly, unsure how to talk to him, “Since freshman year,”

“Hm, interesting.” He mused. 

You hated this. It was so uncomfortable and not at all like the last time you had spoken to him. Even aside from the fact that you weren’t fucking, the few words said were clunky and awkward. You were realizing that the drugs and alcohol you had consumed might have had something to do with the ease of conversation. It made you sad. You knew this was stupid. You knew you were being childish. You were an adult, sex shouldn’t be the cause of this unbearable awkwardness. You should be able to talk to someone you hooked up with, without being on the verge of a panic attack. Luckily, Heimerdinger’s technical difficulties came to an end. He drew back everyone's attention and put a halt to your terrible conversation. You turned away from Viktor, facing the front as the intro to advanced ochem lecture began. 

The rest of class, thankfully, went smoother than you expected. Your group fell into a good rhythm, working together between bouts of notes to work on practice problems. Viktor was less tense, which let you relax a degree. He was more than willing to help you navigate your textbook, looking over your shoulder to check that you were on the right section. He even helped you find the reading for next class, tearing a piece of paper from his notebook and placing it in the pages. There wasn’t a lab planned for the day, so Heimerdinger continued his lecture well into the scheduled lab time. By the end of the four hours, you had written down almost ten pages of notes. Your hands ached.

“Apologies for the lecture heavy class, everyone. Having to cancel our first class last week meant I needed to catch everyone up” Heimerdinger said as he closed out the presentation, “I promise from here on we will utilize the last two hours as lab time. Have a good rest of your day everyone, I will see you on Wednesday.”

You scooped your things into your bag and slung it over your shoulder, “I’ve gotta get to another class, see ya around.”

You darted out of the door before anyone could reply. Your head was filled with too many thoughts. You took the stairs down, doing your best to organize the mess in your brain. You created a list. First, the things you needed to do, right now. Finish the reading for Asian American Lit, number one. Number two, go to your Asian American Lit class. Then, the things that could wait until after. Telling Lest about Viktor/Pretty Boy dilemma. Though, she would be mad that you didn’t call her at that very moment. Asking Jinx to add you to the group chat, meaning you'd have his number. Yeah, that you could wait on. Then the things you decided could wait forever. Number one, talking to Viktor. It’s all you wanted to do. And at the same time you’d rather spontaneously combust than confront that awkward conversation. 

You were free of the overpowering AC of the science building for less than a minute before the task you decided never needed to happen, happened. Against your will, of course.

“Wait up!” Your steps faltered for a second at the sound of Viktor’s voice calling after you. You ignored him, continuing as if you hadn’t heard. He shouted your name, “I know you can hear me!”

You stopped staring at the hot sidewalk for a moment. No. You had somewhere to be, things to do. You shook your head without turning around and kept walking.

“If you take one more step, you’re ableist!” He shouted, out of breath.

You froze and turned slowly to look at him, jaw hanging open, “That is not funny.”

“Got you to stop didn’t it,” He panted, closing the distance between you, he knocked his cane against the side of your calf, “And, I do believe running from a man with a cane can be considered ableist.”

“First of all, I am not running from you,” You lied, looking up at him. You stepped a half inch to the side, using his shadow to block your eyes from the sun, “And second, if I happened to be running from you, it certainly is not because you use a mobility aid.”

“Okay Miss PC,” He rolled his eyes, “Doesn’t matter why, if I deem it ableist, it is.”

You opened your mouth to argue, floundering for what to say. You don’t remember him being this infuriating at the party.

“Exactly,” He said as you snapped your jaw closed.

“Viktor,” You sighed, “What do you want?”

He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, tilting his head at you. He gave a soft laugh, “I have been waiting all weekend to hear you say my name.”

Breathing would have been easier if he punched you. You blinked up at him, watching him watch you.

“I’m sorry, can I…” He looked around, noticing that other students were leaving the building as their classes ended. You two were standing in the dead center of the sidewalk and in the late summer heat his pale cheeks were already turning pink, “Can we just talk for a second, please?”

He didn’t wait for you to respond before he stepped off the main path and began walking into the flower garden. The dry gravel crunched under his shoes as he walked, the sound amplified in your brain as you followed after him. He settled under a latticed arch, the honeysuckle vines that snaked around it shading you both from the midday sun. 

“I’m sorry,” You said, frowning at him.

“For what?” He asked, face confused.

For running away. For not asking your name. For leaving. For joining your class.

“I don’t know.” Was all you could manage.

“You know, apologies lose a lot of their value if you don’t know what you're apologizing for,” He narrowed his eyes, voice almost scolding.

“I..I know, I’m sorry.”

“You say sorry too much,” He laughed, shaking his head, he didn’t look upset, “It’s very American of you.”

“Well, I am American,” You pointed out, letting yourself laugh softly with him, “I’m sorry for that too,” You joked.

“Well, let me apologize?” He asked, “I’m sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable in class, it truly was not my intention.”

That was an apology. A real and true apology.

“You didn’t make me uncomfortable,” You shook your head, “Fuck, if anyone had a right to feel weird, it was you.”

He tilted his head in question.

“I mean, it was your class first,” You told him, “I just kinda…showed up.”

“Did you join the class because I was in it?” 

“Well, no,” You laughed softly, “How could I have, I didn't even know your name.”

“That’s true,” He scoffed, “I regret that, by the way, I should have asked your name. Not very polite to ask after having sex with someone.”

“Eh, it happens to the best of us,” You shrugged, liking the laugh he gave you in response.

“Well, I am glad I know now,” He told you, eyes moving across his face, he smirked, “It’s a pretty name.”

“Hm, thanks, I like yours quite a lot as well,” You smiled up at him, the step closer he took didn’t go unnoticed, “It suits you, almost as much as Pretty Boy.”

“Thank you,” He smiled down at you, chewing on the inside of his cheek. 

“What?” You could tell there was something else he wanted to say.

“Can I take you out?” He asked, taking a nervous breath, “I know we kinda did this in a backwards manner, but I…you are very interesting to me, I would like to take you out properly.”

Your stomach twisted. Your chest felt like it was caving in.

“No,” You said, head shaking slightly as you offered a sad smile. The unexpected hurt that flashed in his eyes killed you.

“Oh, um,” He stumbled over his words, clearly taken aback by your refusal, he tried to step away, “Okay.”

“Hey wait,” You reached out, grabbing his wrist before you could escape, “Listen, it’s not you.”

He narrowed his eyes at you, begging you not to embarrass him any further with a cliche line.

“Really, I swear,” You urged, not letting go until he stepped back towards you, “I just… I don’t date classmates. I don’t sleep with classmates. Even if I want to. It causes problems, it makes class awkward, and I can’t risk my GPA just because I find someone attractive.”

He hummed to himself, nodding as he took in your words.

“So…” He reached out, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, the same way he did when you were straddling his lap, “You’re saying you find me attractive?”

You resisted the urge to lean into his palm, instead you grabbed his wrist and pulled his lingering hand away from your face, “Don’t do that.”

“I’m confused, you’ve already slept with me? So what does it matter?” He asked, raising an eyebrow at you. He was so fucking handsome you wanted to scream.

“Because, at the time, we weren’t classmates.” You explained like it was obvious.

“Okay, so let me get this straight, you will be in a relationship - sexual or romantic - with someone as long as they aren't an active classmate?” He asked, lip curling up in confusion, “But if they were a past classmate, or in our case, a future classmate, it's fine?”

“Exactly,” You shrugged, “I think that’s perfectly reasonable.”

“That’s actually very unreasonable.” He told you, “And also does not make much sense to me.”

“Well, good thing it’s a rule for myself.” You huffed, “You don’t have to understand, you just have to respect it.”

“So, if we were in separate classes, would you go out with me?” He asked.

“Probably, yes.” You admitted.

“But not now, because we are in the same class.”

“Yes, exactly.”

“So, if I ask you when the class is over, you’d say yes?” He leaned towards you, probing.

“Maybe.” You shrugged, “Who’s to say you won’t hate me by the end of the semester?”

“Well, considering you seem to be friends with the only people I know at this school, that would be rather unfortunate.” His voice lowered at the end, he was closer to you know. Very much within kissing distance. Right now there was nothing more you wanted than to feel his lips against yours. You know they’d be cool in comparison to the stagnant summer air.

You didn’t. Instead, you took a step back, and shoved your hand out into the distance between you, “Friends and classmates? Can you do that?” You asked, he studied your hand like the offer was written on it, then sighed.

“Fine, I can respect your rules,” He took your hand in his, firm and strong and cold, “Friends and classmates…for now.”

He moved his index finger softly across the inside of your wrist as he held your hand, goosebumps sprinting up your arm. You carried that feeling with you for the rest of the day.

[lurkingshan]

Theory of Love Episode 1: Dear Dakanda

And we're off! We begin this week with a 2005 romcom classic from Thailand: Dear Dakanda (the Thai title is more like "Close Friend"). The plot, in brief:

Mhoo buzzes off his luscious mane of hair and heads south to hit the beach. An accident on a boat lands him in the hospital with a broken leg and flirting with a local nurse, Nui, and as he gets to know her we flash back to his uni days in Chiang Mai to see what he's running from: Dakanda, the girl he met during Freshy games, fell in love with, and stayed close friends with while pining after her hopelessly throughout college. In the end, he ends up confessing only via letters after he already gave up and ran away, and the film ends on an ambiguous note.

For those who have seen TOL, I think the parallels here are fairly obvious, and the posters above confirm: Mhoo's story is Third's story. Like Mhoo, Third never says a word about his feelings, choosing to keep it to himself and cry and rage alone. And similar to Khai in these early episodes, Dakanda seems totally oblivious to her friend's feelings as she enjoys spending time with him.*

*There's another parallel to a Thai BL here: Nui is clearly an inspiration for Tharn in I Told Sunset About You! I won't get into that as it's off topic for this discussion. But it's fun to watch old Thai media and newly understand how shows we love were referencing it.

This movie is so much about how Mhoo hurt himself with his slience for years, and ultimately gave up without giving Dakanda a chance to even respond to his confession. Unfortunately, Third doesn't seem to have learned anything from watching it. We hear in his review of the film that he romanticizes--and ends up emulating--Mhoo's behavior rather than recognizing that Mhoo set himself up to fail and things might have gone differently if he was willing to be more honest with his friend. As @bengiyo pointed out, the fact that Third gets caught up in these heterosexual romance films and takes all the wrong lessons from them is part of the conflict at the heart of this story. I love how the show signals that by pointing us to this film right at the start. And with its story over the next 12 weeks, TOL will be in dialogue with this film, ultimately rejecting the notion that Mhoo's refusal to communicate and ambiguous ending was romantic.

As for this first episode, I love how it drops us right in the middle of Third's dramatic pining spiral as it sets up the world of the show. One of the things the show is super clear on is that Khai's player behavior, while kind of dickish, is fairly normal and accepted--Two and Bone act exactly the same way--and Third is only pressed about it because of his feelings. But as the film framing this episode signals, Third never says anything, just gets increasingly resentful as Khai keeps unwittingly reminding him that they are not on the same page.

And of course, he makes it worse for himself by agreeing to help Khai deal with his exes, a truly self-destructive choice that only fuels his jealousy. And every time Khai behaves selfishly or thoughtlessly or does anything to remind Third that their feelings are not mutual, his anger only grows, but Third can't help but press on it like a bruise. I groaned when Third went to catch Khai at the theater with the date he ditched him for; stop torturing yourself, my guy! For his part, Khai has some maturing to do, as he is far too willing to be an ass to his friends in the name of hooking up, and he also just doesn't get that he is constantly hurting Third's feelings by treating him so casually. But for the first half of the show, we are firmly in Third's story and perspective, and I'm excited to see him get to the end of his rope.

Tagging in my other watch partners in case they have anything to add: @neuroticbookworm @solitaryandwandering and @twig-tea.

[stxrsniolo]

┈̸̷┅ ̤ playing minecraft with twitch streamer!chris ━̸̷︭

╁ ⠀aegan is typing . . . ⠀⠀ࡆ⠀⠀alright, lovebirds, prepare for an overload of sweetness that's gonna make your teeth ache and your heart melt, since this piece is all about those warm, fuzzy feelings that make life worth living, so get ready for some pure, unadulterated fluff that'll have you smiling like an idiot. you're welcome.

pairings: twitch streamer!chris x clumsy!reader (asks and requests about this pairing are open)

the twitch stream was in full swing, the viewer count skyrocketing past 50k as chris, with his characteristic goofy grin, introduced y/n to the audience. "alright, chat, prepare for chaos because y/n's here to help me with this minecraft madness!"

the chat erupted immediately.

randomviewer: Y/N IN THE HOUSE! minecraft's about to get wild

randomviewer: she's gonna burn down the whole server, isn't she?

chris had already set up a new survival world, and y/n was immediately distracted by the first tree she saw, hacking at it like she was in a lumberjack competition. "i'm gonna make a forest of stumps!" she declared, her avatar wildly chopping the dark wood.

"dude, you're gonna get us noticed by herobrine," chris teased, his character in a gaudy, pepsi inspired skin that screamed 'look at me.'

"is he hot?" she teased.

y/n's character would jump at the sight of any mob, especially creepers, screeching, "not today, satan!" every time one appeared. she'd then scamper back to chris, dropping flowers at his feet. "here, take these before i die from fright."

chris chuckled, picking up the flowers. "thanks, babe, i'll make a private garden for our... uh, cave?"

randomviewer: shes so relatable i swear

randomviewer: protect her from the mobs, chris

y/n was more about gathering resources in the most inefficient way possible, often getting lost chasing wolves or falling into caves. "oops, i think i just dug into hell," she said, her character falling into a deep pit.

"you mean you found the nether without a portal?" chris laughed, his voice full of mock surprise.

while he was trying to build something resembling a home, y/n was busy filling her inventory with every flower she could find, occasionally giving one to chris's character. "for you, my brave knight," she'd say, making chris chuckle slightly.

later then, y/n found an enchanted book with "loyalty" and with a mischievous grin, she walked her character over to chris's, throwing the book. "take this, it's important," she said, trying to sound serious.

chris, with his playful, dense-as-a-brick demeanor, picked it up. "oh, cool, for our non-existent trident! thanks, mamas!"

randomviewer: shes not talking about the trident, shes talking about her HEART!

randomviewer: cutest thing ever

when the penny finally dropped, chris's eyes widened, and he let out a playful, "oh, you sneaky little minx!" his character suddenly started sprinting towards y/n's, initiating a chase across the cubic landscape.

"you can't escape my love, y/n!" chris shouted, his character making exaggerated jump attempts to catch up, the chat going wild with laughter and encouragement.

randomviewer: RUN Y/N RUN

randomviewer: bro is on the hunt for love

y/n's was giggling through the mic, running in circles, occasionally jumping into water to slow chris down. "you'll never catch me if you're not loyal!" she teased, throwing more flowers to empty her inventory.

⨥⠀ ⠀⠀aegan is typing ᅟᅟ:ᅟ⠀heads up, copycats and wannabe adaptors: my work is mine, period. no copies, no mashups, and definitely no translations getting thrown up here or anywhere else without my say-so.

keep your hands off unless i give you the green light, got it?

tags: @courta13 @chrislilcumslvt @marrykisskilled @chrislova @sturnshood @inspiredangel @strnilolover @emely9274 @sturns-mermaid @blushsturns

[gh0stly-mp3]

sing along! -> bllk hcs pt.1

bllk characters headcanons

synopsis: assigning a song to some of the bllk characters / recommending you a song that reminds me of some of the bllk characters

tags: blue lock headcanons, bllk songs, music hcs

warnings: mature language (in some songs), loud music

characters: first selection introduced + rin

a/n: hi! i hope you guys like this type of post, its something that i've been thinking nonstop and wanted to share (part 2 might be up tomorrow)!

masterlist.

Y. Isagi -> Goodbye, My Danish Sweetheart

"There's some kind of burning inside me It's kept me from falling apart And I'm sure that you've seen what it's done to my heart But it's kept me from falling apart"

Meguru Bachira -> Love, Me Normally

"I was nothing before, so I couldn't have asked to be born I'll be nothing again, so what am I between now and then? Is there nothing to fear? 'Cause shit's getting weird"

*actually, for bachira, all will wood songs count

Hyoma Chigiri -> No Wind Resistance!

"I'll bet ya I can run faster with no wind resistance I'll fly under no conditions Teach myself complete submission While I grant myself complete permission"

Rensuke Kunigami -> I'm Still Standing

"Looking like a true survivor, feeling like a little kid I'm still standing after all this time Picking up the pieces of my life, without you on my mind I'm still standing, yeah, yeah, yeah"

Gin Gagamaru -> Dead Weight

"Got everything I need (haha, yeah) Clothes on my back The wind on my teeth What I control is in me"

Shoei Barou -> Make Way For The King

"Say I walk like a king (walk) Talk like a king (talk) You can ask around now say the same thing They chasing the fame They don't want the name But they ain't got what's running through these veins Make way for the king"

Seishiro Nagi -> Notion

"I'm sure there won't always be sunshine But there's this momentary beam of light You don't have to wait those salty decades To get through the gate, it's all in front of your face"

Reo Mikage -> I Cant Handle Change

"I can't help but repeat myself I know it's not your fault Still lately, I begin to shake For no reason at all"

Ikki Niko -> Blow My Brains Out

"Sometimes I wish I could lend you my ears Lend you my thoughts and lend you my tears Sometimes I wish I could take a new form Switch out some parts and become like the norm"

Rin Itoshi -> No Suprises

"A heart that's full up like a landfill A job that slowly kills you Bruises that won't heal You look so tired, unhappy"

[orangez3st]

Sunshines & Birthdays

Marshal Commander Cody & GN!Jedi!Reader 

Summary: You just can't miss his supposed birthday. Rating: General Tags: fluff, birthday gifts, full blown wholesomeness, reader is kenobi's padawan and commander in the 212th, reader is besties with cody (who wouldn't wanna?) Word Count: 854 A/N: Ashamed to admit I nearly miss Cody Day!!! 2-2-24 wasn’t the time I've existed on this side of Tumblr yet, so please have this special anniversary drabble from me!

"Codyyyyy!" you giggle as you run into him in one of many corridors of the Negotiator, "Happy birthday!"

"Hnn," the 212th Marshal Commander drawls helplessly as you smoosh his cheeks together. You flash your teeth at him before letting go and watch his baffled expression with amusement. "But... I don't have birthdays, sir."

You snort. "Oh, don't be silly," you wave at him, and cheerfully continue, practically throwing your arms out, "You do! Second day of Kelona! Which is today!"

Cody blinks at you.

"Did you just take the first two of my serial numbers and make it up as my birth date and month?"

Being his commanding officer's padawan, watching your face fall into a mixture of sadness, disappointment, and embarrassment strikes fear in him – it's as if he's responsible for your reactions, too. You're beloved by the 212th. Was he being too hard on you, even if he meant it slightly as a joke?

"What, you don't do that?" You can feel your cheeks fluster. "Boil told me all of you do."

As if cued, the devil marches around the intersection with a cone-shaped pink party hat on top of his head, the elastic band pressing under his chin. "Sir," Boil nods in your direction with an impressive amount of seriousness, "Have a good one."

Raising a toast with what you imagine is some citrus juice, Waxer follows behind him with the identical hat, but in cyan. "Happy birthday, Commander."

You grin widely at their act, pleased with their instigation and just recent participation. Cody stares on until they disappear from view, dumbfounded, probably open-mouthed and frowning which you can't see from your angle.

Your mirthful giggle returns his attention back to you, his expression softens.

"Not me. But... Thank you," Cody says almost sheepishly. His hand flies to the back of his neck, and you know you had him. Still with his respectful yet casual tone, he meets your gaze with a small, appreciative smile. "I'm aware how precious birthdays are for natborns. Really appreciate your notion to treat me as such, Commander."

"Then you know how we natborns celebrate our birthdays – with presents!"

"Yeah," he nods absentmindedly, but snaps his attention back to you yet again in alarm, "Wait, don't tell me–"

"Ta-da!" You not so gently shove your wrapped gift bundle into his chest. "Open it! It's from me."

Anticipation bubbles in your chest as you thoroughly watch his expression. His subtle glance at you that knows you're not taking it back, his gloved hands gingerly pulling the neat ribbon and peeling the flimsi wraps with swirly orange pattern, and his widened eyes in full blown wonder and shock as he lifts your gift to view.

You smile fondly. "I love that you have this sunburst design so I embroidered it there." You subtly point to the intricate design of your handmade craft; embroidered sunburst pattern on a plain white sweatshirt that matches the one on his armor involving a massive spread of orange tones. "I would've knitted the entire thing from scratch had I have more time, but I guess I'm used to improvisation."

"Well, uh, hope you love it, Cody," you decide nearly hesitantly, but you shrug it away, already moving to the other direction. "That's all for now. See you again in briefing!"

Cody is stunned, rubbing the pad of his thumb tenderly over the beautiful embroidery. You hope he would wear it outside demanding military duties – on a casual day out with his brothers or even to his sleep in his cot. His lack of response almost saddens you, but you know you need to give some time to someone who's never been gifted before.

You only make about five steps until he calls back at you, "Wait, sir!" You turn around, the same giddy smile on your face, and watch his eyebrows pull into a soft frown. "Do I, uh, wanna know what that means?"

"You think we'd go through your birthday without throwing a party?" You smugly place your hands on your hips. "And at Master Kenobi's behest! So that means a direct order from your superior officer!"

You skip away again, butterflies swarming your insides in fond warmth of friendship, but then you pause when you hear Cody's unmistakably hurried steps.

"Commander, wait!"

Cody skids into a halt in front of you, nearly running into you in the same manner you did to him. His gift from you still clutched in his hand, your breath huffed out of your lungs with a force as Cody pulls you into his chest and buries his face into your shoulder.

"Thank you." His quiet voice sounds suspiciously hoarse and wet in your ear. "I... I can't say it enough. This means a lot. To me."

Smiling tearfully yourself, you wind your arms fully around him and press both of your bodies closer for its warmth. "You're the very best Marshal Commander we could've asked for," you whisper to his ears only – in admiration of the qualities he stashes for himself as a man. You smile and bury your face into his shoulder. "Happy birthday, Cody."

Taglist: @yoursrosie @hellfiresky @msmeredithrose

A/N: You can request for x reader in my askbox! If you're interested in my clone x reader oneshots you can sign up as well to be tagged of future works. (Link provided)

[mono-socke]

Day 10: Error

this is actually a redraw from something i did in october

this is entirely irrelevant for the post, but i want to show the comparison :>

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

It's the 6 month anniversary of this blog! Check out these cool bugs I found.

(EDIT: Check out this amazing fanart by thecornermushroom!)

Part 2 - Part 3

[imerian]

My (very old) loscar brooch (?) that i just now made doodles for

More pictures under cut

[sacchiri]

Hellsing 2002 calendar illustration.

Ein wunderliche und erschröckliche Hystori von einem großen Wüttrich genant Dracole wayda Der do so ganz unkristenliche marrter hat angelegt die mensche, als mit spissen als auch die leut zu Tod geslyffen

A wondrous and frightening story about a great berserk called Dracula the voivode who inflicted such unchristian tortures such as with stakes and also dragged people to death

[trafficblrpositivityproject]

Hello I have memes about running this blog so far. For these memes I decided to give myself a pen name for the sake of not having to type out “trafficblrpositivityproject” / to give you all something to address me by since I decided not to say openly who is running this (though two people have already guessed who I am).

[batsplat]

hello!! i hope you're having an amazing day 🥹💗 do you have any vale's races masterpost?? thank you so much in advance!!

*takes deep breath* *cracks knuckles* *cracks knuckles again for good measure* *rolls up sleeves* *cracks knuckles one more time* yes of course anon. no problem. let's do this

going to forgo any extended intro as this post will be long enough as it is - though it wasn't always easy to both represent the scope of valentino's career and make picks based on actual race quality. there will be a skew towards the early years of his time in the premier class and there are a few obvious fallow spells, but I hope I've adequately done justice to most of his very, very long career... and used the asterisk system to do my quality control for me

speaking of - another rec post, another escalation of the asterisk system (luckily, we have reached the final boss of motogp and it is impossible to escalate beyond this - here are the casey and marc/dovi lists). * means check it out, ** personal fave, *** classic, **** if you watch nothing else please watch these

I also need to mention mat oxley's 'valentino rossi: all his races', which is an excellent reference book that I consulted a fair bit when compiling this list. it's especially invaluable in making sense of the early years - where the archives unfortunately are sorely lacking and I'm grateful for every bit of additional context I can get. about those early years, a little bit of housekeeping with the codes I'll use to indicate in which form these races are available:

ITA: only italian commentary, which means I've found them on youtube. this is relevant only for the very early races. there's upsettingly few of his 125cc and especially 250cc races available even when you include these (though I haven't included all the ones that are available)

HL: only highlights, which is specifically about some of the 2000-01 races. there's only three full races of valentino's first premier class title available in their entirety on the motogp website, which is unfortunate (technically four including valencia, but who would want to watch that). now, the highlights they provide for all the other races aren't actually bad - they're around twenty minutes long for the race themselves so you will see most of the exciting action and the overtakes and all that (though it does raise the question of 'why don't you just upload the full races')

NC: no commentary, and is mainly an issue for the 2002 races that are all uploaded in their entirety but... well, only a few with commentary. obviously not ideal especially with older races. my recommendation would be watching the very short highlights (aka 2-3 minutes of actual race footage with commentary) available on the website for each of the 2002 races - either after or even before watching the race - to just give yourself a better sense of what you're watching

as ever, the descriptions will frequently provide spoilers for the result. my spoiler-free top ten recommendations are: donington park 2000 suzuka 2001 phillip island 2001 brno 2003 phillip island 2003 welkom 2004 donington park 2005 laguna seca 2008 catalunya 2009 assen 2015

and here, ten more spoiler-free recs because it really is a bloody long career: sachsenring 2003 mugello 2004 phillip island 2004 jerez 2005 sachsenring 2006 sepang 2006 catalunya 2007 motegi 2010 argentina 2015 assen 2017

**brno 1996: I find it very charming when riders have early career races that tell you everything you need to know about them. this is valentino's first grand prix win, achieved from his first pole position. he has an awful start, ends up way down the order, fights his way through, is eventually caught by this 34 year old former world champion who he does not like, fights him for a bit, stalks him and lets him draw them away from the pack in what the commentators consider remarkable confidence and poise from a seventeen year old, loses touch enough with the race leader that it looks like he's surely lost the race before pulling out a crazy last lap with some hard racing™ to overtake that other bloke. after he crosses the finish line he's so excited he almost rides into the wall. deeply excessive celebratory fist pumping that just goes on and on and on. angelic smile on the podium as the bloke he's beaten looks rather peeved - and apparently complained about valentino's riding afterwards. what more is there to say, really

^driving his elders to drink. here's a video where valentino is talking about the race: "and from there a fight to the death came out because we didn't get along very well. we weren't very nice to each other because we were bothering each other throughout the championship". like I said, tells you everything you need to know about him. just watch this one and call it a day

nurbuergring 1997 (ITA): an early strong wet weather performance, at a time when he was still a bit of a wimp about the whole riding in the rain thing. granted, he was a little lucky when the runaway race leader had a mechanical dnf, but he got into a nice little scrap with a few other riders to claim his fourth consecutive victory

rio 1997 (ITA): the thing about 125cc/moto3 races is you kinda know what you're getting, and more often than not what you're getting is a fun time watching them go at it. valentino's first, he's third, he's first again, they're having it out... and then on the final lap, he's taking advantage of the backmarkers to secure the victory. which is so sneaky and so valentino that it obviously deserves to be mentioned here. incidentally, his last ever win at assen 2017 had a controversial involvement of a backmarker on the last lap, which is a nice little full circle moment twenty years later

brno 1997: in many ways, this was a more impressive ride from his title rival ueda, who came back from thirteenth on the grid to take the win. which meant that valentino had to finish on the podium to claim his 125cc title at the same venue where he won his first race... and he just about managed it, with the entire leading group of riders headed into the final corner together

there are race highlights in the 5-10 minute range from his 250cc race years which... well. since they're not anywhere close to full races and this is a race recs list, I can't exactly give them their own bullet points, but I'll just rattle through a few highlight videos here I enjoyed from 1998: jerez (features a nifty overtake with four blokes entering one corner together, also harada fucked with valentino despite being a lap down to help capirossi win?? anyway vale's first 250cc podium, to which harada showed up to clap for capirossi specifically???); mugello (featuring his controversial beachwear celebration); paul ricard (see below); catalunya (he spent a lot of that year crashing but towards the end of the season finally figured it out - works his way back from thirteenth place to win), argentina (controversial title decider claxon; valentino found the whole thing so "hilarious" he was giggling when the drama was going off in the garage. he also referenced the jerez incident in his post-race interview, because of course he did)

^the three protagonists of the 1998 250cc season: valentino, harada and capirossi, all part of the same nightmarish aprilia 'super team'. everything I've read about that season makes me want to break into dorna hq and get my hands on the full race footage. both images are from the paul ricard race, in which valentino was trying to figure out how to stop harada from continuously outsmarting him. they kept slowing down the pace further and further, with harada running his bike comically wide to let valentino through and valentino doing a massive wheelie down the straight (image on the right) to force harada to go back past - but harada still eventually managed to best him on the final lap. valentino was heavily criticised in the press for wanting to 'humiliate' capirossi by letting capirossi catch up to the pair, but really he was just getting creative in his tactics. I may not have been able to 'watch' this season but I love it dearly

donington park 1999 (ITA): the ONE 250cc race I've been able to watch in its entirety. it was stopped and restarted due to the weather and the final outcome was decided on aggregate time across the two races (yeah, this does feel weird but they used to do that). a close fight especially in the first part. not too wet, presumably, given his 250cc performances in the soaking wet were often. hm. not great

1999 highlights I enjoyed: catalunya (was riding with a suspension glitch but kept his main title rival ukawa behind him anyway); sachsenring (won an intense battle with capirossi, admittedly you do not see much of him in the highlights); brno (another intense fight, this time mainly with an older rider in waldmann after they both worked their way through the field); phillip island (worked his way to the win from seventh on the grid and one of those phillip island races)

jerez 2000 (HL): valentino's initiation to the premier class wasn't... the most dignified thing you'll ever see... two dnf's in the first two races by which point he was so bloody terrified of the bike he was just very slow in the third. in his defence, those 500cc bikes were pretty scary, but also it was time to get his act together. which he did in jerez! this was another one of those weird ones where the rain interrupted the race and then the whole thing was decided on aggregate time, but a good ride to bag his first premier class podium

**donington park 2000: maybe it was the bikes, maybe it was experience, maybe it was a mindset thing, but eventually he would get over his moral objections to 'getting wet' and develop into an excellent wet weather racer in the premier class. this was his first premier class win - and a pretty neat way to seal it too. had an awful start, took a while to figure out the grip conditions, and then he was off. the second half of the race involved a fun fight between valentino and both roberts jr and mcwilliams for the victory

^almost gave the commentators a heart attack by running a defensive line through the final corner that took him completely off the dry racing line

rio 2000 (NC/HL - as in, both are available): valentino's second win of the year and his first in the dry, the race after his late charge to a rookie title was scuppered by a crash in valencia. he made some adjustments to his riding style after the valencia fiasco and really started to get to grips with the 500cc, which would stand him in good stead the following year. as is traditional, he makes a truly horrendous start, dropping back from the front row to find himself briefly outside of the top ten. from there, he gets to work. it's confident stuff, getting himself to the lead by about half distance and pulling away from there

**suzuka 2001: the first race of 2001 and a clear statement of intent. as ever, valentino had to work his way through the field... which took him right into the path of max biaggi, a man who had already been his enemy before they started actually racing each other. now, it has to be said, biaggi is a dick here! quite literally elbows valentino while running him off-track and could easily have caused vale to crash (as valentino said afterwards, "I had to learn how to ride motocross-style at 140 mph"), he continues using various body parts rather creatively in defending his position. when valentino finally gets past, he sticks out his middle finger. set the tone for that season rather nicely

jerez 2001: this is the cool-headed, calculating valentino who would prove such a formidable foe over the years. having already won the first two races of the season, he's high on confidence as he engages in a duel with the man who had so captured his imagination as a teenager: norifumi abe. valentino takes his time - but when he finally makes the decisive pass, he pulls clear so easily it feels like valentino may have just been toying with his hero all along

^valentino and norick, the inspiration for 'rossifumi'. in 2008, valentino paid tribute to the other man a year after his passing: "norick for me was a hero. I grew up watching the suzuka 500 race in 1994 with the great battle he had together with schwantz and doohan. last year was a shit year for me when I heard of the death of norick and colin mcrae, for me it was not a great year. I think it is possible to dedicate this championship to norick”

catalunya 2001 (HL): I don't care if there's only highlights - I am not leaving out a race that sparked a fist fight. honestly if I were biaggi I'd be pissed about this race too. valentino was twelfth at the end of the first lap and ended up winning... painful, truly. a really good scrap, plenty of fun to watch as valentino always is at catalunya, and obviously you've also got to watch the presser clips with the knowledge they were throwing hands a few minutes earlier

assen 2001 (HL): this one was low-key kinda stolen from valentino. it's good fun - y'know, one of those assen battles, valentino's doing the stalking and lurking thing and it starts raining and valentino takes the lead and... whoops! time to call off the race due to the rain so let's take the results from the previous lap! biaggi win! imagine getting into a fist fight with someone and losing the very next race to them on a technicality. oof

^post-fist fight handshake to show how it's all fine. they're totally fine. completely fine. no problems here

*donington park 2001 (HL): I'm gonna be so real, if I'm on pole and my title rival starts eleventh and he ends up beating me to the win by 1.8s, I think I just call it a day after that one. valentino had a bad crash during practise where he was lucky to not really hurt himself and then obviously had a pretty terrible qualifying, so a great opportunity for biaggi to claw back some points. worst bit is, vale didn't even make a good start - he was still in eleventh place halfway through the first lap. good fun to watch him pick his way through the field, and in his autobiography he ranks this race near the very top in terms of ones that gave him the most "satisfaction"

****phillip island 2001: look, if you've seen one of those classic multi-rider dogfights at phillip island, then, here, I've got a version of that for you from 2001. it's just so much fun to watch, with so many different riders and rider constellations and run orders at various parts of the race, riders looking like they'll break away and getting caught again etc etc etc. and it is also a match point race for valentino - a relatively comfortable one given his formidable championship lead. he didn't need to win the race to take the title, but would you want to see your greatest enemy take the spoils on your big day? in the most dramatic fashion possible, valentino ends up right behind biaggi on the very last lap and makes a daring overtake for the victory. hard to beat that as a way of sealing your first premier class title

*suzuka 2002: you know how I said in the marc rec post that I found it tricky to pick out a few for 2014 because a lot of the races were good without being all timers? this is valentino's equivalent season - he's winning, life is great-ish, tricky to differentiate, and if you enjoy any of these races you'll probably enjoy them all. mostly I'm just going to include the ones with commentary available, even though I'm too stubborn to let dorna completely make my choices for me here. anyway, this one is available with commentary and it's a good watch... valentino hadn't had the easiest weekend to start off his title defence, crashed badly twice, bloodied his hands, all that. he had a sluggish start in the wet conditions and worked his way up the field, before sitting on the rear tyre of the japanese wildcard akira ryo for a while - who knew the track well and knew where all the puddles were. a smart and composed win and feels very typical of his wet weather performances over the years

jerez 2002 (NC): in my head, this is the sister race to le mans 2014. valentino is pushed down quite a few spots to ninth early on (kenny roberts jr just. shoves him aside and does the thing where he gestures back to apologise, but that doesn't really help valentino when half a dozen bikes have passed him) and then he gets down to business. that whole season really does have that 2014 vibe of 'right this is fun but also feels a little too easy' - but hey, the way valentino picks his way through the field is satisfying to watch. and valentino did always like to play with his food, so he sits behind barros for a fair bit before doing the inevitable

*assen 2002: so, the thing about 2002 is that it was the first year of the rebrand to motogp and the introduction of the four-stroke bikes... but you still had two-stroke bikes on the grid, which tended to be tragically outgunned. the circuits where they were competitive tended to be the ones where they could take advantage of how 'nimble' the old bikes were, with more corners and fewer straights - and honestly, if you go on a race-by-race level you could make the case that on-track barros on his two-stroke machine (for most of the year) was valentino's most important rival that season. this is a head-to-head duel with barros that nicely showcases the respective strengths and weaknesses of two such different bikes and riders riding them, and barros manages to mount a stern challenge to valentino for most of the race

*sachsenring 2002: I do find it a little funny that this is one of the ones with commentary they've provided, because there's a bit of an anti-climax close to the end and I'm not sure valentino should have won that race. anyway, similarly to assen, this is another week where the two-strokes can put up a proper fight, and it's an engaging scrap that involves a lot of riders and quite a few nice little shifts in momentum. like above, another interesting study in how the different bikes compare in direct combat

phillip island 2002 (NC): always fun when someone builds up a bit of a gap on valentino. as was so often the case that year, it was barros (now on a four-stroke) who served as valentino's closest challenger, and valentino took his time hunting him down. from there, it's familiar material from the rossi playbook, stalking and studying before making his move - but barros sticks very very close to valentino until he makes an error on the last lap

^is it a bird is it a plane etc etc... don't think this was supposed to mean anything, just being silly

okay we're now headed into the 2003-05 stretch and I should mention that most of the races in that era will also have been featured in this post, which might also be useful to put them into context

*le mans 2003: valentino tries to make a break for it, but the rain denies him. he raises his hand to get the race called off (you could do this as the race leader back in the day, or I suppose also not do that if you wanted to be an asshole)... and immediately almost falls off his bike so. uh. probably a good idea to get it called off. when the race resumes, it's a three-way tussle between valentino, barros, and new challenger sete gibernau, even if at times it's less tussling and more wobbling. in the last couple of laps, it's down to sete and valentino to have it out in the treacherous conditions - and the last lap is proper dramatic. sete had already gotten one over valentino in welkom... but this defeat, coming after valentino had led the race, must surely have stung even more

*catalunya 2003: I feel a little mean making my first three 2003 picks races valentino all lost in quite painful fashion, but, hey, it's character building and really set up his whole arc for the next season-and-a-half. this one is... well. it's both embarrassing and kinda neat from vale. most of this race consists of a duel with capirossi - and when valentino hits the front, you do think that's going to be it. capirossi keeps close, however, and valentino eventually makes an error, running wide to let him through. shortly afterwards, he makes even a worse mistake and runs off into the gravel. once he's fucked up it's a pretty fun performance, where he starts posting pleasingly insane lap times to recover from sixth back to second

***sachsenring 2003: this race will always be remembered for valentino's penultimate corner overtake followed by his last corner mistake that resulted in sete's unlikely victory, but the race before that is good fun too! valentino looks like he'll make a break for it, and obviously miserably fails in his attempt - this time he's the one to be slowly, slowly, slowly caught by a persistent rival who eventually manages to get the better of him again. after this race, valentino vowed he wouldn't be taking any more prisoners. he didn't

****brno 2003: after a horrifying four race losing streak and the humiliation of sachsenring, valentino came back from the summer break with new determination and hunger and a mission to not let anyone get in his way any more. he does not have an easy time of it at brno, with a classic multi-rider dogfight that features regular and dramatic shake-ups of the riders' fortunes. the finish is incredibly close, and vale could have easily been denied the opportunity to pull out his elaborate victory celebrations: dressing up as a convict to symbolise how he felt imprisoned by his own success. here is a more in-depth post about the race

****phillip island 2003: this starts off in classic phillip island fashion, with a bunch of riders having it out in the early laps. then, valentino takes the lead and makes a break for it, and it looks like the excitement of the rest of the race will be all about the fierce fight for the remaining podium positions... except there's a twist. valentino overtook another rider under yellow flag conditions - and unlike donington that year where he was retroactively slapped with a ten second penalty that denied him the win, this time he is informed of the penalty during the race. this race is about as exhilarating as it is possible for a race to get when you're watching someone riding alone in the front - and you'll be provided with some added spice with the scrap for the last podium place. in the end, valentino crosses the finishing line with an obscene margin of over fifteen seconds

^think I already posted these notes somewhere but I can't NOT mention the commentary for this race. bottom of this post I included the autobiography excerpt about how valentino channelled his fury to win this race - very revealing!

****welkom 2004: still perhaps valentino's favourite victory of them all, and with good reason. his first race with yamaha and one that the entire paddock thought he didn't have a hope of winning... until they hit the track that weekend. valentino led every single session and qualified on pole: he said the pole position felt as good as ten with honda. better yet was still to come, with valentino claiming a victory following a thrilling duel against his old foe biaggi that raged on until the very last lap. such was the pace that third-placed sete was seven seconds down on the top pair at the chequered flag

^valentino stopped at the side of the track after his win, kissing his bike and sitting down for a moment to soak in the moment. he says he was laughing into his helmet: "'and so in the end I was right!' I thought to myself. 'I can't believe it, I screwed them all... what a show!'"

****mugello 2004: this race has so much going on, and all of it is highly enjoyable. valentino might have won the last two races at mugello - but off the back of two fourth places and with mugello's famously terrifying long straight, it felt like surely the more powerful hondas would have the decisive edge. and this one is a hard fight for valentino. it's a hard fight with several riders, it's a hard fight with sete and, following an interruption due to the rain, it's a hard fight in mixed conditions where valentino initially drops back to seventh to figure out the grip levels - before speeding off to the win. all the best types of races rolled into one

***catalunya 2004: right after mugello, it's time to visit sete's home - and here valentino kicks off a bit of a tradition of memorable one-on-one catalunya duels... as well as a habit of beating spaniards at the track. it's hard fought, it's challenging, but again valentino emerges on top

***assen 2004: the third consecutive race that featured an extended duel with sete. initially involving barros too - but he crashes, and it's down to the familiar protagonists. this really works as the last episode of that mini-trilogy because you can tell how badly sete felt he needed to reassert himself in that title fight, and conversely how little interest valentino had in letting him do so. involves a hard last lap overtake that resulted in contact. sete was not best pleased, but valentino had secured the win and the championship lead

^left: catalunya, where valentino dons the doctor's garb to perform a series of 'medical checks' on his yamaha, feat. stethoscope and thermometer, before declaring it fit for duty. right: assen, where yamaha staff dress up as doctors to pay tribute to him

qatar 2004: a good old-fashioned hubris ride. valentino was slapped with a back-of-the-grid penalty for some midnight grid cleaning shenanigans and is furious about this. he gets quite possibly the best start of his career and is eighth after a few corners, continues charging and barging his way through the field... before crashing and mashing up his finger and reopening that year's championship fight. the race does get a little dull after valentino does his thing - here are the ten most relevant minutes of footage as well as some more details about the penalty and the race. the weekend that irrevocably damaged his relationship with sete

***phillip island 2004: an underrated spite ride. if you're in the penultimate race of the season and you know a second place is enough to clinch the title and you're over a second behind your title rival and you historically suck at the circuit where title deciders are held, the sensible thing to do is just ride home in second place when it becomes clear the third-placed guy is not catching up. obviously, valentino does not do this, not least because he is determined to stop sete from ever winning a race again. this goes down to the very last lap and it is either a very cool or a very dumb way to seal a title, depending on how you look at it

****jerez 2005: both protagonists make very little secret from the start of the race of just how much they want to beat each other: this is war. and it's a war in which sete has the upper hand for most of the way through (as much as you can really feel you have the 'upper hand' with valentino sitting on your rear tyre) - until valentino makes his move with three laps to go. it takes an error from valentino on the last lap to set up the dramatic and controversial finale, with the infamous valentino block pass that sent his bike careening into sete's. the actions of a man who had decided neither of them finishing the race was a more acceptable outcome than his enemy taking the win, and the relationship between the two riders manages to improbably deteriorate still further

^satisfied with a good day's work as the furious spaniards jeer. if anyone had any lingering doubts about valentino's trademark ruthlessness, they were dispelled that day

**mugello 2005: another year, another thrilling mugello battle. it's looking increasingly clear that this will be a one-rider title fight, but luckily that isn't impacting the race quality (think marc's 2019, where he was incidentally the same age as valentino is here). similarly to the year before, there's cause for concern whenever you're fighting more powerful bikes at mugello, but after a dramatic multi-rider fight valentino is not to be denied

**catalunya 2005: back on sete soil and oh god how much he would have loved to win this race. it's the tension and hatred and desperation that makes these races so exciting to watch - though sete is hardly helped out in his mission of revenge by teammate marco melandri who keeps sabotaging sete's attempts to defy valentino's curse. but melandri has whatever the opposite of main character energy is and the race ends up being another valentino/sete duel. some excellent riding by the pair of them, valentino is particularly fearsome on the brakes that day, and sete has truly taken his gloves off when fighting valentino. but of course, valentino denies sete once again and makes a break for it shortly before the end

****donington park 2005: the defining wet weather ride of valentino's career - even though it got off to a shaky start (literally) and continued to be pretty shaky most of the way. this race was held in truly appalling conditions that they probably would not race in these days, and it's reflected in the number of dnf's - one of which was courtesy of poor sete gibernau once again crashing out of the lead. for most of the way, valentino is wobbling his way into the lead and wobbling his way out of it again... but after some big scares and some time spent nicely sheltering behind other riders, he finally figures out the grip conditions - and he's off. it's one of those rides that is just demoralising for everyone else in how good it is, with valentino pulling insultingly far clear from the other riders with insulting ease

^valentino plays a violin after crossing the finish line. teammate edwards: "I looked at his data and it was scary. he was locking the front in the rain on a shitty track that was slicker than snot, at every corner. this guy's crazy!" not pictured - valentino hugging himself and shivering while parking the bike... and being provided with an anorak and gloves that he only very, very, very reluctantly relinquishes when stepping onto the podium

*le mans 2005: you realise fairly quickly that this one's building to something juicy. colin edwards, valentino's teammate, takes the lead and heads out on his own, as valentino sets off after him - eventually slotting into his favourite position sitting right on the leader's rear tyre. except, he can't afford to hang around - because sete is going faster than both of them and is rapidly catching up. this one really gets going when the inevitable happens and the three of them collide on track, and of course we end up with another sete/valentino duel. cruelly, it's another one where the winner is still not entirely decided when they enter the very final lap... but the curse will not be denied. valentino breaks the circuit record on the last lap

*sachsenring 2005: the problem with watching these races is that even if you would prefer not to know the result going in... well, every single time the race comes down to a duel between sete and valentino post-qatar 2004, however strong sete looks, however confident, however near he is to the victory... you know he's obviously not going to make it. my advice is to really lean into it - the joy/horror of it all is in discovering how it's going to go wrong this time. this race features another lovely duel between valentino and sete, at a track that suits the honda far better than it does the yamaha. valentino leads early on before sete manages to catch up and overtake him. two laps to go and sete is still in the lead as valentino stalks him around... you know how this story goes

*brno 2005: ah, the misery. listen, if you enjoyed the previous sete/valentino duels I listed, then you're going to enjoy this one too. it's the race immediately following sachsenring and it feels like basically they just continued the last one, and boy are they going at it from the very start. sete determinedly sticks with valentino and surely one of these has to go his way... includes a particularly cruel twist on the final lap

qatar 2005: one year on from the race in which valentino put his curse on sete, and it feels like this might be sete's best chance for the remainder of the season to free himself. he gets perilously close to making a break for it ahead of the battling melandri and valentino... but of course, he can never run far enough. another painful defeat (if one caused by melandri more than valentino) and eventually valentino claims victory at the circuit that had caused him such trouble the year before

qatar 2006: valentino's 2006 season got off to a tricky start when toni elias rode into him in the very first corner of the opening race, and his luck didn't get much better from there. still, the year featured plenty of excellent valentino rides - including the second race of the season, where he fought his way through from sixth on the grid. features his first tussle with the rookie pole sitter, one casey stoner, who defends sternly against his future rival. eventually, valentino faces off against nicky hayden in a decent extended scrap that went on for much of the race

***mugello 2006: boy, did valentino get himself involved in some banger races at this circuit during his time. sete tries to escape at the front, and even in a tough year like 2006 valentino will not allow that man a moment's rest. a duel between sete and valentino ensues (featuring melandri and casey), then valentino suddenly drops down to fifth, then the race turns into a three-way encounter between capirossi, hayden, and... still valentino. he emerges from the feisty fray with a much-needed win

***sachsenring 2006: you could copy paste 'much-needed win' any time valentino won this year, and sachsenring is no exception. not traditionally his strongest track, valentino's urgency produced one hell of a race ripe with tension throughout. the yamaha's struggles made for a difficult qualifying and he fought his way through from eleventh on the grid. even when he caught the leaders and passed them, he couldn't just clear off like in times past, dragging three dogged riders along with him - but he just about managed to hold them off for the win

****sepang 2006: one of the best valentino duels, this time featuring one of his oldest rivals in the form of loris capirossi. part of his remarkable late season charge that brought him within kissing distance of the title. the entire race is enjoyable but the final lap is one for the ages, with valentino vicious in both attack and defence

^no hard feelings: capirossi hugs valentino while vale is still on the bike. 2006 is a rare title fight in which valentino genuinely liked most of his major rivals. vale was exhausted after the battle in the gruelling sepang conditions and had a little sit down after hugging his team

phillip island 2006: the first bike swap race and quite frankly the whole thing is a mess. a lot happens and it's classic late season chaos where the championship standings and implications are chopping and changing by the lap. when the dust settles, valentino has snagged third place on the last lap off poor sete gibernau and chips away a little more at hayden's championship lead

***estoril 2006: sure, valentino lost the 2006 title when he crashed at valencia, but he also lost it by .002s in estoril. this race featured a dramatic twist in the title fight when rookie dani pedrosa wiped out his teammate hayden, and suddenly valentino had to consider just how much risk he was willing to take. he had mostly decided to play it safe - but then couldn't help himself and ended up attacking toni elias on the very last lap. if he had managed to bag the extra five points, then even with the valencia crash he would have won the title on countback

valencia 2006: everyone thought valentino would be winning the title again headed into the weekend, and they became even more certain of it when valentino qualified on pole. but in the end, it was not to be. valentino got a poor start and felt something was wrong with the bike (or maybe it was the tyres, if one casey stoner is to be believed), but admits the mistake that left him on the ground was his own. a bitter pill to swallow after a season plagued by misfortunes, though valentino had always gotten on well with title winner nicky hayden and was sincere in his congratulations

****catalunya 2007: from the start of 2007, it was clear that new ducati hire casey stoner would be a problem. with yamaha's struggles continuing into the new 800cc era, ducati had gotten it spot on at the first try... even if it was only casey who could completely tame their troublesome bike. for a while, it seemed easy to dismiss casey's victories as built primarily on the back of the infamous ducati horsepower, but at catalunya casey proved he was far more than just a powerful engine. one of the true classic catalunya duels, with both riders displaying dazzling race craft, and one of casey's finest career victories

***assen 2007: valentino's season wasn't getting any easier - the yamaha was one thing but his continued struggles with the michelin tyres if anything frustrated him even more. he qualified in eleventh place and doesn't get a particularly good start while casey streaks off in the front. casey is over five seconds clear at one stage, but valentino manages to hunt down his title rival anyway. it's studying and stalking and lurking and all the rest of it, and as ever casey doesn't make it easy for him - but eventually valentino manages to pass him and pull clear

*estoril 2007: casey's championship was more or less wrapped up by this point, though valentino was able to deny him just a little longer at the first match point race. this features a nice scrap between casey and valentino, and then an extended duel with dani that is perhaps the best fight the two of them ever had. it was a much-needed win in a rough patch for valentino on- and off-track - and he dedicated it to one of his idols, the rally legend colin mcrae who had just passed away

**catalunya 2008: yes, okay, I know he won the three races before that one - but this one's a more fun race! after an initial adaptation period to his shiny new bridgestone tyres, his season had finally properly kicked off with the aforementioned three race win streak. at catalunya, valentino only qualified in ninth, and pedrosa streaked off in front - but valentino and casey engaged in a highly enjoyable rematch of the previous year's duel. in the end, it was valentino who prevailed, but casey and ducati had clearly gotten their own house in order...

^the version of valentino that marc first met, before vale's race in his special football-themed livery and leathers

****laguna seca 2008: after catalunya, casey stormed on to win the next three races on the trot, typically by ominous margins. heading into laguna seca, a race casey had dominated with ease the year before and valentino had never gone particularly well at, valentino knew casey might be in danger of running away with this championship... and he was determined to do something to finally conduct this rivalry on his terms. nobody expected there would be a contest for the victory, let alone one valentino won - but he did, in a brutal encounter that served as a masterclass in psychological intimidation. the relationship between the two rivals did not emerge unscathed

*indianapolis 2008: another race, another mediocre start, if this time from pole. it sets up a fun (to watch) race in worsening conditions, as valentino takes his time to get comfortable with the grip levels before slowly and surely working his way through the field and stalking first casey then nicky hayden around the track. he makes it to the front before eventually the race has to be called off - and, in a rare moment of unity, valentino and casey are seen briefly talking to ezpeleta together, presumably to tell him they have less than zero interest in going out again in that weather. they get their way and the race is called off, with valentino bagging his fourth consecutive victory - a streak he of course started at laguna. his second and last win on US soil

motegi 2008: the title-sealing race and fifth consecutive win - not the most exciting entry on this list, but earns its place by featuring a bit of a duel between title rivals casey and valentino for the lead (after they both get past dani, casey in a rather rude way that he apologises for with a hand gesture) (not that he gives the position back and valentino immediately swoops through too). motegi had always been one of vale's weakest tracks, and it must have felt extra sweet to clinch the title at the home race of his perennial enemies at honda (as he miserably failed to do in 2005 in a deeply embarrassing performance)

^'scusate il ritardo', or 'sorry for the delay': this title was special given the heartache of the two previous years. all smiles with casey and jorge (who comes to parc fermé to congratulate his teammate)

*sepang 2008: as was sometimes rare in that era, this race involves several good fights going on simultaneously down the order. the fight for the victory ends up coming down to valentino and dani, and it's a nice little duel they put on - plus there's also dovi's dramatic fight for the final podium position to enjoy

jerez 2009: dani and valentino's young teammate jorge lorenzo are the clear pre-race favourites and there's a slight fear one of them will run away with it... but jorge never quite finds his groove and ends up crashing, while dani very much does not run away with it. valentino finds something extra after being absolutely nowhere all weekend, as he had a habit of doing. features valentino shadowing first casey and dani - and a particularly nifty contact-free block pass at the infamous final corner on casey. valentino's first win of a tough season

****catalunya 2009: one of valentino's finest career victories - and another example of his ability to wrest control of a season when he needed to. off the back of two tricky/embarrassing races at le mans/mugello, it felt like the time had come to demonstrate he was a serious contender in that year's championship... as well as assert himself within yamaha over his increasingly troublesome young teammate. the stakes are clear: jorge sorely wanted to win in front of his home crowd and valentino sorely wanted to beat him there. after a strong start, the physically ailing casey falls back, letting jorge and valentino soar off and fight it out as they take turns to tail each other around the track. a duel for the ages and the victory that transforms his fortunes in that season (some more details in this post)

**sachsenring 2009: a few races after catalunya, it was once again jorge and valentino to fight it out for the win - unusual for two yamahas at that track. it's a duel that has been overshadowed by catalunya, but this is another gem: a close and dramatic battle at a time when it felt like jorge was the one who had something to prove. but valentino demonstrates how hard it still is to best him in head-to-head combat, and he ends up beating the number 99 bike by the pleasing margin of .099s (listen I have no evidence for this but in my heart of hearts I 100% believe he noticed and appreciated this fact)

misano 2009: this race followed valentino's massive error in indianapolis, crashing and reopening the championship fight at a time when it looked like he had things perfectly under control. his traditional special home race helmet is dedicated to taking the piss out of himself - featuring a donkey because of how "stupid" he had been. but in misano he was the "flying donkey"... look, it's not the best race you'll ever watch, but after a poor start (surely not), he does do quite a nice job to overtake dani for the lead. in parc fermé, his team dons donkey ears, and he gets his own pair to wear to the podium as he greets his ecstatic fans

**sachsenring 2010: valentino's early season was troubled by a motocross shoulder injury he'd picked up after qatar, and he had to push harder and harder to keep up with an ever-improving jorge. eventually, he pushed too hard and broke his leg in mugello. this was his first race back, returning sooner than anyone had expected (except casey, who thought people were making too big a deal out of the whole thing) - and he immediately was on the pace, to everyone's surprise (not casey's, who thought valentino's main problem was just losing a bit of muscle mass). this race features an excellent duel between casey and valentino in the closing stages for the final podium position, with casey stealing it from valentino at the very last gasp. it was an impressive performance by the pair of them, a heartwarming demonstration of how mediocre bikes and broken legs can be overcome by the power of mutual contempt

***motegi 2010: do you ever feel overcome by the sudden urge to watch someone be an absolute asshole for no good reason? if so, then I have the perfect race for you. jorge is very close to clinching that year's title, and in truth it's a pretty sure-fire thing given dani is out with injury. still, it's generally not considered good form to ride into your teammate at the best of times. valentino continues to struggle with his fucked up shoulder late into the season, but spite will do all kinds of magical things for you. it's a race-long battle for third place between the yamaha teammates, and the last few laps in particular are uh. intense. features valentino dangling out his leg to increasingly comical extents - whether to try and mitigate the shoulder issues or whether to physically block jorge is anyone's guess. jorge basically rides right into the leg more than once. there are at least three separate extremely dubious moves valentino pulls on jorge. you can tell jorge is losing his mind. you can feel the sheer concentrated malice radiating off valentino. when valentino gets off the bike, the mic picks up how he tells the yamaha team that it "was fun". not everyone would agree

^you'd think a season in which valentino had broken his leg might be one where everyone lays off the dramatics a little, but somehow this year was the one in which valentino's relationships with both of his main rivals soured considerably and made the final step from 'rivalry' to 'feud'. there'll always be a slight air of unfinished business to the casey rivalry in particular, but 2010 did end up unwittingly providing us with a few gems. in the motegi qualifying press conference (pictured above), vale talks about how he knows he needs shoulder surgery - but is determined to delay the surgery until the end of the season. it wasn't a good decision for his shoulder

**sepang 2010: the race that immediately follows motegi. valentino doesn't qualify particularly well and starts worse, dropping back to 12th during the first lap as jorge and dovi set out in front. but valentino determinedly sets after them - and when he catches up, they engage in a lovely three-way scrap in the race in which jorge can seal the championship... as long as valentino doesn't knock him off. this doesn't reach the viciousness of motegi, but it still involves three riders who clearly really want to win and also really want to beat each other. his first victory after the broken leg - and his last one for a long time

jerez 2011: thing is, right, if you just ignore the bit where he wipes both himself and casey out and then has to pick the bike up and start again, it's actually a really good ride! can't fault it! did his thing in the wet again! just one little. uh. blot on the copybook. I wouldn't even say the ambition outweighed the talent as much as it was his patience, given he knew it might be the only chance he'd get for a big result for a while on the struggling ducati. it's the kind of misjudgement he makes relatively rarely in his career, and speaks to his frustrations with the continuing shoulder problems as well as the underperforming desmosedici. casey was less than sympathetic

le mans 2011: it's le mans, it's raining, you know how it goes... these conditions were pretty much the only times valentino could manage a decent pace in his ducati years. this one should've gone on the dovi list too actually, not least because jorge executes an extremely rude move on dovi I feel confident in saying dovi did not appreciate (he gets jorge back with a far more polite and civilised move). casey runs off with the win by a fairly obscene margin but behind him there's plenty of talking points - not least the hugely controversial clash between dani and sic that leaves jorge, dovi and valentino fighting for the two remaining podium spots

*le mans 2012: valentino might have expressed mixed feelings over the course of his career about riding in the wet, but it sure did its job during the ducati years as the great big equaliser. now, point of order: in my casey rec list, I described this as 'not a great casey race', which I don't stand by at all. the last casey/vale duel (that also heavily features a vale/dovi/cal crutchlow tussle), with valentino stalking and harassing casey both at the start and the end of the race - though he did exercise some advisable caution... initially. involves a last lap overtake and is valentino's best ducati performance

^the last podium valentino and casey shared, in the race after casey announced his retirement. usually it's a bit easier to tell when a valentino feud is at its worst, and the two of them joked in the press conference about how they were thinking back during the race to their 2011 jerez clash. ducati were in such a miserable place in those two years that in truth, nobody could have done much with that bike - casey certainly could have done more, but by 2010 the bike so awful that valentino outscored casey that season even after fucking up his shoulder and breaking his leg. vale's sole dry podium in the ducati seasons came at an emotional home race in misano the year after sic's passing, though unfortunately it's not a particularly watchable race. there are some other rides in those two years that are strong in isolation, but valentino isn't the star of the show - and really, it'd be a waste of our precious time to talk any more about two years that were a waste of valentino's precious time

qatar 2013: the first race back with yamaha and the first race of a 'qatar trilogy' of sorts, i.e. 2013-15, where valentino just keeps executing extremely watchable races by qualifying poorly/dropping back at the start and then fighting his way through. by the time he catches up with the pack, race winner lorenzo is long gone - but valentino can still have his first fight with the next big thing in motogp, the rookie marc marquez. there's an optimism to this race, the hope of new beginnings in a series that perhaps needed some life breathed back into it... and so did valentino. all three men on the podium have good reason to be delighted, and show it. valentino truly had not known if he could be competitive again after the dark ducati days, and he looks happier here than he has in ages

*assen 2013: his first victory in the post-ducati days and a track at which he had always been strong. partly helped out by jorge's collarbone injury (though assen had always been a bit of a bogey track for jorge), valentino overtook stefan bradl, marc and dani for the win. it's not the most thrilling of races, but is still perfectly enjoyable - and you can tell by valentino's reaction how much it meant to him

qatar 2014: bar a few high points, valentino's 2013 season had been troubled and frustrating as he found himself unable to match the top three in the championship. he decides to make one more big move - this time not by switching teams, but instead by firing his long-time crew chief jb. the start of 2014 is all about seeing if he can become competitive once again... and if he cannot then he will retire. qatar is a promising start, coming back from a poor qualifying to engage in a tightly fought duel with marc that lasts until the penultimate lap

misano 2014: valentino clearly stepped up his game this season, making him decide to continue on racing in motogp in a year in which marc was dominating the competition. race wins, however, remained elusive - but there is nowhere valentino would have rather emerged victorious than his own backyard. the opening stages are a proper fun three-way tussle between valentino, marc and jorge. valentino gets to the front and marc pursues him, so doggedly determined to get the better of valentino that he ends up crashing. the rest of the race isn't all that exciting, but it's notable as the first race in which valentino directly outperformed both marc and jorge when they were fully fit. the ranch visit happens after this race

phillip island 2014: never the most gifted of qualifiers, valentino would continually struggle to get to grips with the new qualifying format introduced in 2013 - and his grid position of eighth was typical of the time. but you can't fault him for his ability to pick his way through the field as he does here, which culminates in his enjoyable duel with jorge for what was then p2. he got lucky with marc's crash out of a sizeable lead, but it was still a good ride to ensure he would be the one to take advantage

***qatar 2015: it takes one corner for the 2015 championship to be blown wide open, when two time defending champion marc marquez goes off and drops to the back of the field. for much of the race, it looks like jorge will be the primary benefactor, battling it out with two revitalised ducatis. valentino starts badly and drops to tenth, but he works his way through the field - and eventually it is he who fights the ducatis for the win. this is actually a really nice marc comeback ride too, even if he never comes into victory contention. it is also a statement victory from valentino. game on

^valentino started the season on a high, daring to hope that the elusive tenth title might finally be his. the optimism would last roughly until they got to europe and jorge hit his stride, after which it was a gruelling defensive campaign to try and cling onto his points lead

**argentina 2015: the thing is, right, qualifying poorly isn't great. starting poorly also isn't great. but if you want to be fighting for titles, you should maybe pick a struggle and stop doing both. valentino's championship bid that year has all these charming races where he's still at the fuck end of nowhere after the first lap before heroically picking his way through the field, which feels needlessly exhausting but there we are. it is, however, exciting to watch how he creeps closer and closer to marc - and he eventually catches up on the penultimate lap. the resulting duel is short but memorable

****assen 2015: a duel that will always be remembered for the controversy surrounding the final chicane, but the whole race is a fantastic watch. valentino needed a result after jorge had won four races on the trot and had led 103 consecutive laps - and he played the weekend perfectly to achieve it. his only pole of the season and, excitingly, actually a good start too... but marc quickly slots in to sit on his rear tyre and it's a fight that continues the entire race. did valentino know what marc had been intending to do at the final chicane, given marc had admitted to repeatedly executing the move during that weekend's practise sessions? or was it just quick thinking that allowed him to read marc's move and realise he only had one counter available? we'll never know for certain - though marc was suspicious of valentino's motives and eagerly made his thoughts on the matter known in the post-race press conference. the beginning of the end

**silverstone 2015: after brno, valentino had surrendered the championship lead for the first time that season on countback and it was obvious he was in serious trouble. silverstone had proven a fairly happy hunting ground for jorge over the years and it looked like he would continue doing his thing that weekend... but then the rain came to the rescue. valentino spends most of the race with fellow wet weather expert marc stalking his every move, until marc goes down and valentino is left managing the gap to a late-charging petrucci. one of the finest wet weather performances of his career - and in several ways jorge got lucky to limit the points damage

^valentino's shadow, until marc pushed it too far and crashed. was marc more determined to beat valentino here than he would have been anyone else? valentino sure seems to think so - he later references both this race and misano as ones where marc aroused his suspicions. who knows, he might be right, but there's still a sizeable difference between competitive fervour and conspiracy

****phillip island 2015: one of the classic multi-rider fights. what valentino lacked in outright pace, he made up for in wheel-to-wheel skill and fighting spirit... except in the end, he couldn't completely make up for the deficit. all year, valentino had been fighting against the odds to keep his championship dreams alive - but at last, they were truly slipping, slipping, slipping away

**sepang 2015: one last roll of the dice, classic rossi-style... but this time it all goes horribly wrong. when the duel between marc and valentino arrives, it has an air of inevitability about it - as, perhaps, does the final outcome. but the fight itself is captivating to watch, in a raw brutality that befits the tragedy we are watching unfold. the penalty that valentino receives after the race is what truly dooms any remaining title hopes

valencia 2015: another doomed title decider, though valentino's race itself cannot really be faulted. he picks his way through the field from the very back and makes it to fourth, but he could never have hoped to catch up to the top three. quite a boring race afterwards bar some late marc/dani scrapping

jerez 2016: it is admittedly hard to vouch for the quality of this race precisely because it is such an extremely non-valentino way to win. clear and complete domination of the race - in a way he had otherwise been incapable of doing post-2009. while the title fight ended up being a bit of a dud for various reasons, early 2016 held promise that this year valentino would be able to match his two enemies on raw pace

***catalunya 2016: after the dramatic closing stages of the 2015 season, everyone was of course waiting for the first proper on-track duel between valentino and marc. it took a while to get going at catalunya, with valentino getting a typically poor start and having to ruthlessly work his way through to even get to the marc fight. but it's worth it once he gets there - like all their on-track encounters, it's a fierce battle of wills nicely complemented by the contrast in styles, and you can tell how ferociously determined they are to get the better of each other. the race that prompts the slight rapprochement between the pair of them

silverstone 2016: maverick vinales ran off in the front to claim his first premier class win, though the fight behind him is well worth watching - and warranted a mention on the marc list too. the first part is good, but the final laps are what it's all about, as the multi-rider scrap distills into another vicious little encounter between valentino and marc. as ever, with these two it's personal, and they're hardly shy in their ferocity fighting each other. but valentino makes clear afterwards he has no complaints... even if marc always reserves a "special treatment" for him

cota 2017: a lovely whiff of controversy to one of the better races cota has produced. valentino is involved in a feisty clash with the rookie johann zarco, who was well on his way to acquiring a certain kind of reputation within the premier class. it's fair to say valentino was not a fan, and he's certainly not a fan of zarco's attempted overtake that valentino argued forced him off-track to avoid taking them both down. he's slapped with a three tenths penalty his team decided against informing him of - which he's still unaware of when closing up on dani with a few laps to go

^not quite the hand-holding of yesteryear, but it was something. the pair of them disagreed in the post-race presser about zarco's aggressive riding - and, perhaps, valentino's off-track excursion that supposedly granted him an unfair advantage reminded marc of a certain other previous incident. riding standards remained a major talking point for all of that season, most notably in assen and phillip island (though valentino himself ended up coming under some criticism, in particular by pedrosa after aragon). the two rivals agreed more often than not, even if valentino still had his reservations. after phillip island: "all riders are very aggressive, so you have to be more stupid than them"

**assen 2017: his last grand prix victory and it's as true to him as brno 1996. a rough, bruising tussle between riders who aren't afraid to exchange paint, with plenty of high quality racing on offer. some rain adds to the excitement - and valentino still faced a sturdy challenge on the very last lap. he remains the only rider in history to have recorded a grand prix win over twenty years after his first. he said afterwards that "sincerely I race with motorcycle for what you feel the five, six hours after the victory". in many ways, it feels like a scarcely believable amount of commitment for so fleeting a reward

****phillip island 2017: multi! rider! scrap! in! australia! valentino's strongest result after a broken leg in a motocross accident took him definitively out of the title hunt (the second serious motocross-related injury that year for him). anyhow, they're at it again and it's a brutal battle between several protagonists who are happy to get their elbows well, well out. valentino's leathers were marked by rather a lot of rubber by the end of the race - but the most important thing is that everyone had fun!

sachsenring 2018: valentino's 2018 performances were generally stronger than the results would suggest, with yamaha increasingly out at sea in a new era hurried along by the return of the michelin tyres. still, he put together a strong first half of the season and was marc's main challenger points-wise. even this late in his career, he demonstrated his willingness to continue to learn and improve by studying satellite yamaha rider jonas folger's performance fighting marc the year before at the circuit, joking after the race that nobody had ever told folger the yamaha wasn't supposed to be good around there. while in the end valentino couldn't really pose a significant challenge to marc, he gives it a good go and gets involved in a fun fight with jorge along the way

****assen 2018: one of the classic multi-rider dogfights, and valentino contributes very nicely to the drama of the race - not least as a result of his deep love for the final chicane. while the winner always had something extra in his back pocket, a rather unfortunate late coming together ends up (probably) depriving valentino of what would have been a deserved podium place

argentina 2019: marc disappears the moment the lights go out, but the battle behind him provides plenty of excitement. there's a bunch of riders fighting for the remaining podium places, elbows nicely out, but eventually valentino and dovi have it out in an entertaining contest that goes down right to the very last lap

^winning a last lap duel against andrea dovizioso... what, like it's hard? a year on from an eventful argentina grand prix, marc memorably likens his handshake with valentino to kissing a girl. the last podium the two of them share

andalusia 2020: some silly good defending against his teammate throughout the race that mainly had the effect of allowing fabio to escape. valentino's result was quite the heroic feat given the gruelling physical conditions: 36 degrees celsius with horrendous track temperatures, with only 13 of 21 riders making it to the end. the blistering heat also hardly helped with the tyre preservation that plagued this portion of valentino's career; managing these tyres was one development too far for his ever-evolving riding style to adjust to. two academy riders could have denied valentino's final career podium, but both their bikes had the decency to break down

^three yamaha's stood on the podium that day for the first time since 2014 phillip island, and presumably for the last time until around 2064. valentino celebrated enthusiastically to the empty jerez grandstands, 21 years after his infamous visit to the portaloo at the same circuit. valentino's decision to retire was complicated by the pandemic, his past ability to bounce back from rough patches and - most of all - his inexhaustible passion for racing, but eventually he called it a day after the 2021 season

[fisheito]

@requiodile EXACTLY my thoughts !!!! rei's too old and tired and will probably have to clean the loads outa his butt for the next several hours. yakumo can carry HIMSELF back home after wreaking that kind of destruction

[starpros-sunshine]

Eichi gives away the mask so easily because it was never meant to be an "engagement ring" like you delulu wataeis imagined it to be lmao. It was wataru saying that he will continue playing tsumugi clown role in fine and won't leave it for hokuto's mother troupe after graduation. Do you dumb fucks even read the stories? Eichi didn't even understand tf that mask meant when wataru gave it to him and wataru referenced fucking tsumugi in his "proporsal". I dunno why the f you think it's ok to lie about "! EnDiNG wItH wAtAeI EnGaGeMEnT" when the chapter it happened wasn't even close to the end of ep:link. Cope

PS: how do you live with the fact that Eichi clearly admitted to never being in love in his life and Wataru said that even though Eichi likes him, he still can easily discard him for the sake of his objectives?

I love you anon thank you for giving me a nice reason to ramble again beautiful ask 10/10 I'm sorry this is probably not how you hoped this would go but this is such a funny block of text delightful really thank you for the enrichment please marry me

But okay yes now to get down to the actual ask just to disclaim I am solely relying on translations seeing as I do not speak japanese well enough to understant the original text so if anyone has anything to add to this or to correct me on please feel free to do so.

Now to get started I'm not sure if one could say Eichi gave away the mask "So easily" seeing as he claimed that it was "a hard choice to make"? Which, as one might know, implies unease with an idea and pondering and debating and a general amount of thinking behind a decision so? I know this isn't really the main focus of this ask but I'm just a tad miffed with the semantics of it is all. And in either case giving the mask back to Wataru while expecting it back still shows a certain degree of trust in their relationship it wouldn't have been such a big deal for him (as it apparently was) if the mask didn't have a lot of sentimental value to him (the both of them really if we look at the whole exchange).

Now to the claim that the mask was "only" Watarus promise to stay with fine and "continue playing Tsumugis clown role". This is not entirely incorrect. Regarding the acting troupe and staying with fine bit at least.

I'm assuming this bit in EP:Link Deadend/7 is what you are referencing, and I see where you're coming from. But the bluebird line

from literally three dialogue lines further down, which references this line of dialogue (notorious Eichi line everyone should be familiar with)

kind of somewhat really recontextualises that? Because you see this is a reference to a fairytale about a pair of siblings and they get sent out by a nice fairy to find the bluebird of happiness for her sad daughter to make her happy again so they both go on an adventure and travel far and search and search but they can not find the bluebird of happiness and then when they return home again, disappointed because they couldn't find the blue bird, they realise only one night has actually passed and the journey was probably just a dream. But then their eyes fall upon their pet dove in it's cage which appears blue all of a sudden and so they gift it to the fairies sad daughter which becomes happy again and sets the bird free. The real bluebird of happiness is a dove. At least in the version of the story I'm familiar with but I mean everyone sees the symbolism right? It's. very hard to miss.

And then dropping this?

I'm not sure how to say this properly but in the overall context this makes it pretty clear that Tsumugi has nothing to do with this anymore this is Fully between Wataru and Eichi. And I am the last person to dismiss Tsumugis significance in the course of Wataeis relationship as characters I will be among the first to protest when someone dismisses the importance of Tsumugis and Eichis relationship in favour of some image they have of Wataei but he has nothing to do with this one.

Yes Tsumugi gets namedropped but - again - I don't really see how that would lessen the sentiment Wataru is triying to convey here? Because. Yes. Why wouldn't he mention Tsumugi?

The entire conversation pretty much boils down to "Yes I was initially only in this because I thought I could replace Tsumugis role in your life and then I wanted to leave but we have spent so much time together that I realised that that is definitely not working out because I really do love you. I love you as a teammate; I love you as a friend; I love you as a person and I am very angry at myself for not managing to get that into your head. So please allow me to stay with you for as long as you'll have me." And then also Eichi not understanding because he has the emotional self awareness of a very emotionally unaware loaf of bread and also because he hates himself that is a very big thing about his character huge part of his character arc actually that he. you know? Hates himself? And feels guitly for his actions during the war? And doesn't think he deserves love and companionship? Which is why Wataru wanting to stay with him for him and not for some twisted form of revenge is such an alien concept to him? Because he is projecting his insecurities onto Wataru? As one is wont to do when they hate themself? "EiChi Didn'T eVen UnDErStanD WhAt tf ThAT Mask MEAnt" Yeah. That's. That's the point? So he can think about it and come to that conclusion himself which works as a keymoment in his characters journey from hating life and himself to enjoying being alive and wanting to live on because of the people he's surrounded with? He literally explains why he didn't immediately understand the mask during the EP:Link Epilogue/4

And to get back to the "I dunno why the f you think it's ok to lie about "! EnDiNG wItH wAtAeI EnGaGeMEnT" about which I have two things to say:

"Lying" implies further intent and an effort. Neither of which exist in this case.

He literally went down on one knee while making a big proclamation of offering himself to Eichi with a very personal item that works as a symbol for their commitment to each other on a starlit rooftop. The comparison writes itself.

3. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Joke

And then I expected there to be a proper reason given and instead you proceed to follow that up with "when the chapter it happened wasn't even close to the end of ep:link". I know the shame is on me for expecting something sensical from an ask which has been near constant in it's lack of correct statements but such is human nature I suppose. And you are not wrong. Deadend/7 isn't very close to the end of EP:Link. That is true.

But do you know what Is very close to the end of EP:Link? The Epilogue Chapters 3-5.

Do you know what the content of those chapters is? I do. Very well actually :)

(Eichi literally explains why he didn't get it)

So if this answers your "Do you dumb fucks even read the stories?" questions, Yes. And I think I'm a lot better at it than you. So I'd say I'm coping quite well over here :p

PS: Regarding your PS, I take the "I've never been in love before so I wouldn't know" comment with a lot of humour actually as an aroace person who's emotional self awareness also ends at "good" and "Not good" I think it's very funny all things considered especially because he mentioned the loving Wataru thing several times before that and I'm generally of the belief that actions speak louder than words and also am in a happy long term relationship with the concept of "Reading Subtext". So please excuse me for not breaking down in tears everytime someone reminds me of that one singuar line of text in one of my favourite all time enstars stories that came out three years ago which also brought us the single best card set in the entire game

as well as absolute banger dialogue such as

Among others <33

And there are soooooo many other examples of wataei dialogue that simply make me swoon but I have already had to take out so many of the one's I wish I could put here so this wouldn't get "Do you love the colour of the sky" long

And also, regarding your "Wataru said that even though Eichi likes him, he still can easily discard him for the sake of his objectives" I'll just say that no he absolutely could not. I mean he'd say that and if pull comes to shove and he has no other option then he might seriously consider it but may I mention that Wataru was gone for a few days at most but really not that long of a time during Sanctuary and Eichi stopped considering being a normal rational person that doesn't leave helpless 17 year olds in the midst of a construction site. Very different situation but I feel like it's worth mentioninh here. Another example is Eichis almost not being able to go through with the war because of Wataru. Wataru had to actively come and tell Eichi to go through with it. Wataru isn't the reason Eichi started the war, that is wrong, but he is the reason Eichi almost didn't finish it. and during the war era that was his Main objective. Again I'm part of the fraction "actions speak louder than words" Show don't tell and all that, but even the words are pushing it.

And that concludes my essay :)

[ifyougoillfollow]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia (Anime & Manga) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead/Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic, Aizawa Shouta & Kayama Nemuri & Shirakumo Oboro & Yamada Hizashi Characters: Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead, Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic, Kayama Nemuri | Midnight, Shirakumo Oboro Additional Tags: Spin the Bottle, not tagging who smooches who but thar be smoochin here, Fluff and Humor, Banter, Friendship/Love, Rooftop Gang Shenanigans, Teenage dumbassery, cannot stress enough how teenaged in their dumbassery these fools are here, To whit:, Underage Drinking, Gay crisis, Unrequited Crush, Crushes, Pining, Mutual Pining, these losers have it all!, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Shirakumo Oboro Lives, You're Welcome, Gay Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead, Oblivious Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic, Feelings Realization, Getting Together, Non-Linear Narrative

Summary:

In the end, it's Yamada's painfully obvious and just as grating attempts to spare Shouta some mild embarrassment that makes Shouta abandon all sense of logic and agree to just play the stupid game. There are worse fates to endure than being patronized, Shouta's sure, but if there are, he's having trouble imagining them in the face of Yamada freestyle rapping for fifteen straight minutes to a chorus of increasingly heartfelt boos from the other two idiots.

And so Shouta finds himself watching Yamada and Kayama suck face for the third time this evening. That's certainly a worse fate, Shouta decides, all the more so because he should have seen it coming.

They're playing spin the bottle, after all. ___ Rooftop Gang plays spin the bottle. Need I say more?

[neil-neil-orange-peel]

I was thinking to myself recently how wild it would be if this fandom was big enough to do a kinktober. Alas...