#Mental Toughness Trainer

[jaythes1mp]

I was wondering how you think readers life would be different if they were a puppy hybrid instead of a cat? I had a dream about this last night after I reread your works

You had a dream abt it after my fic?🫢🥹💚

The dynamics between the reader and the family would noticeably change if the reader took on more canine traits rather than feline. The bat’s would likely respond differently, as canine behaviors and characteristics can vary significantly from those associated with cats. The reader's dog-like nature could shape how the family interacts with and cares for them, adding a different layer to their relationships and potentially influencing the family's behaviour. They’d expect more from you.

The nature of a dog is typically more sociable and dependent, leading to different expectations and interactions.

So if you don't immediately respond to their affections by showing signs of eagerness, like a happy, loving puppy would, the family would interpret your behaviour as abnormal. They might worry that something is wrong with you, as canine behaviour typically involves being sociable and receptive to affection.

They'd expect you to enjoy being petted, as dogs often crave human touch and attention.

You’d promptly be sent out on your way to a vet. Because, something must be the matter with you. It could never be their faults. They'd assume that the issue lies within you rather than considering the possibility that they might be the source of the problem.

In contrast to their care for Kitten Reader, they'd be more inclined to allow Puppy Reader to spend time in human form. This is because it's easier for them to monitor and assess your mental state when you're in human form. As they find it less challenging to gauge your emotions, well-being, and mental state when you're human if you’re completely unreceptive as a pup.

For a kitten it’s natural to be less receptive to affection, batting at their hands or hissing when they get too close. But it’s completely abnormal for a pup. You’re supposed to seek out their touch, not flinch from it.

So they need to nip your behaviour in the bud.

Damian, being the meticulous and dedicated individual that he is, will take it upon himself to arrange online training sessions with the most skilled and highly regarded trainers available. He believes that you ought to behave in a manner that befits your canine nature and will take great care in selecting trainers who can help you learn and adapt accordingly.

He will diligently oversee your progress, taking notes on your behavior and ensuring that you receive the necessary guidance.

Dick, being the “loving and dedicated older brother” that he likes to call himself, will dive into a thorough online research session to discover the best ways to force have you to be affectionate with him. His search queries including phrases like "How to get your dog to like you," "How to create a bond with your new puppy," and "How to make a puppy love you instantly." He’ll immerse himself in articles, videos, and guides that provide tips and techniques to form a deep and affectionate connection with you.

This ends up resulting with every time you manage to do literally anything besides growling at him, whether it be making eye contact, sitting, or even just existing in his presence, you’re immediately rewarded with a dog biscuit as an incentive.

Jason, with his rugged exterior and rough edges, is the type to carry you, no matter how large your fluffy canine physique, in a practical doggy bag. While he may appear tough on the outside, he has a deep attachment to you in your puppy form, as in some underlying level he sees himself in you.

Especially if you have any visible scars that can’t be concealed in your canine form, he might find an even stronger affinity towards you, mirroring his own experiences in a strange yet comforting way.

Tim, being the methodical and detail-oriented individual, he is, would design an unnecessarily intricate and ultra-luxurious dog pen for you indoors. This pen would be thoughtfully equipped with every amenity and comfort appropriate for your puppy needs. However, he's also pragmatic and meticulous, and would ensure that appropriate measures were in place to lock you up if you needed disciplining for misbehavior, demonstrating his keen attention to both your comfort and safety.

Tim's favorite creation thus far for you is the collar fused to your skin in a way that causes no discomfort when you transform from one form to another. It relays live data to the Bat-computer and a specially designed app installed on each family member's phone. The collar monitors everything you consume, tracks your whereabouts, keeps tabs on your vitals, and records your voice continuously for 24 hours. Moreover, it also picks up on any intense emotions you're experiencing, providing the family with a comprehensive understanding of your canine state of mind at all times.

The collar is discreetly designed to blend in, looking just like any ordinary dog collar one would purchase at a pet store, except perhaps a bit more posh and expensive. However, the back of the collar is adorned with a beautiful tag bearing all the family members’ contact details.

Other features are installed to keep you in line. A built-in shocker to administer a warning shock in case of any misbehaving behavior. After all, a little shock can go a long way in shaping a puppy's behavior. The collar is also equipped with a feature that bypasses the need for conscious thought to shift between your human and puppy form. It sends signals directly to your brain, creating a sort of mental “shortcut” to seamlessly transform between states. It takes much of the guesswork out of transforming, streamlining the process and making it effortless, forcing you to shift and taking away your ability to choose with a click of a button.

Bruce, being the overprotective father figure that he wishes to be, would be disheartened with the limitations placed on him. He’d long to take you to the grocery store, show you off to his co-workers, or even simply take walks around the park in his neighborhood. However, the others would be quick to point out that your canine form might attract unwanted public attention, and the less people knew about your existence, the better it would be for everyone’s security.

Like, What the fuck do you mean he can’t take his purebred puppy inside this fine dining establishment?? He’s a billionaire. Make the exception before he has your whole restaurant shut down and each of your employees knee-deep in debt by the end of the day.

Link to official chapter

Like to previous cat reader

I’m so tired… really hope you liked this, anon.

[pedroscurls]

training partners (pt. 10)

summary: with your trainer's help this last week, you slowly find your way back to yourself again... and you finally have the courage to tell hugh more details about your relationship with jack and it only makes him angrier. pairing: hugh jackman x fem!reader warnings: angst - mentions of toxic relationship, verbal / physical abuse (not with hugh!). implied age gap (hugh is 55, reader is in late 20s-early 30s), no use of y/n. word count: 2.4k a/n: anyway, we're getting into the reader's backstory with jack, so it's going to be a bit dark... and consider this the first argument between reader and hugh... gonna be a tough next couple of chapters, but trust me when i say there will be a happy ending at the end of all of this! as always, this is purely fictional! i mean no disrespect to hugh jackman. prev part.

You’d taken today off to drop your trainer off at the airport. This last week had gone too fast and while it was emotionally and mentally exhausting, it was just what you needed to remind yourself just how far you’d come. There’s still something lingering in the pit of your stomach, the anxiety that you’ll need to have a conversation with Hugh about everything that’s happened with you and Jack. He knows bits and pieces that you’ve shared before, but he doesn’t know the full picture. 

“You gonna be okay?” she asks. 

“I think so,” you nod. “I can’t let Jack run my life anymore.”

Your trainer pulls you into a hug, holding you tight. “You’re a good person,” she whispers. “And you never should have gone through what you did. He should have never put you through that.” 

You can feel tears stinging your eyes as you wrap your arms around her as well. She had been a godsend and so important in your journey in finding yourself again. She empowered you, motivated you, and helped you see just how worthy you are. 

When she pulls away, she smiles in your direction. “Hugh loves you,” she points out. “Allow yourself to be loved because you’re worthy of it. You’re enough.” 

You nod, wiping any fallen tears from your cheeks. “I just don’t want to disappoint him… What if he realizes that I’m not what he thought I’d be, that maybe all the pain I’m still working through isn’t worth it?”

She rolls her eyes playfully. “You don’t see the way he looks at you, do you?”  

You share your head. 

“Well, that man looks at you like you can do no wrong. Like you’re the only person that matters. Trust me, you are worth it.” 

“Part of me is also nervous… To talk to Hugh and tell him everything. He knows bits and pieces, but…”

“He’ll understand,” she replies. 

“And if he doesn’t?”

“He will.” 

You sigh and then pull her in for another hug. “Thank you for coming here, for being there for me. Again.” 

She lets out a quiet laugh and gives you a tight squeeze before she pulls away. “If Hugh wants to invite me back, let me know. I’d be happy to visit again,” she winks. 

“I’ll let him know. Get home safe.” 

“Remember how far you’ve come, okay?” she says. “And if Jack crosses any lines, it might be time to get the authorities involved.”

You nod in agreement. “I know… I just don’t want it to get to that point.” 

“Let’s hope it doesn’t.” 

—

Later that night, you’re sitting out on the balcony of the hotel room with a notebook on your lap. You had tried to write some talking points to go over when Hugh gets home. You know he’s going to be tired, but you know that if you don’t have this conversation with him, you may never will. 

You know he’s on his way back to the hotel and your heart races faster and faster. You can feel the anxiety course through your veins and even with the notes you had written down, you still don’t feel all that confident. It’s not the fact that you have to tell Hugh what happened, but it’s the fact that you’d have to relive everything that Jack had put you through. 

When you hear the hotel room door open, you stand up and turn to look over your shoulder and make eye contact with Hugh. He looks tired, but at the sight of you, his eyes light up and a broad smile lines his lips. This must be what your trainer was referring to… about the way he looks at you. It eases your nerves, calms you down and keeps you grounded because with Hugh, you have always felt safe. 

He steps out into the balcony with you and pulls you into his arms, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “Hi, baby. Missed you on set today.” 

You smile to yourself and shut your notebook, setting it on the chair you were sitting on and away from his line of view. “I missed you too.” You wrap your arms around his shoulders, hands playing with the hair at his nape. “How was filming?”

“It was good. Movie’s coming along.” Hugh holds you closer to him, eyes falling shut as he holds you in his arms. This was what he was looking forward to all day. Being with you. He knows that this last week had helped a great deal, having your personal trainer here had helped immensely. You weren’t so much on edge anymore and it felt like things were going back to normal. Before Jack entered the picture. “And how was your day? You get home safe after dropping her off?” 

“Oh yeah,” you nod. “It was nice having her here. Thank you for doing that, baby. You really didn’t need to and–”

“I know,” he says quietly. “But I wanted to. I knew she would help… in ways that I couldn’t.” 

“I love you,” you smile. “I’m really lucky.” 

“I love you too, baby.” He pecks your lips and then slowly pulls away. “I’m gonna take a quick shower and maybe we can order in for dinner?” 

“Wait, Hugh…” 

“Yeah?”

“After your shower, can we talk?” 

Hugh’s brow furrows, biting the inside of his cheek as his hands move to rest on your hips. “What about?” 

“Just…” you bite your lower lip. “It’s nothing bad. I just–” 

Hugh tilts his head to the side. He can sense your worry, your anxiety, so he just nods and leans in to peck your lips lightly. “Okay, baby. We’ll talk after my shower.” As he turns to walk back into the room, you reach out for him and pull him back into a tight hug. Your face buries into his chest, arms tightening around his frame as you hold onto him for a few seconds longer. 

“You sure you’re okay?” he whispers. 

“I will be.” 

—

Hugh’s shower doesn’t last that long. He tries not to overthink about what you wanted to talk about, but he can’t help the tug he feels in the pit of his stomach. Now he’s worried, he’s concerned. He quickly changes into a pair of black sweatpants and a Global Citizen t-shirt. He dries his damp hair with a towel and steps back out into the room, seeing you still outside on the balcony. You’re writing in your notebook again and he knows that you only write when you have something on your mind, something that you can’t shake. 

Quietly, he steps out with you and smiles in your direction. Hugh watches you close your notebook, setting it on the small table. He doesn’t let you get up, instead, he scoops you into his arms and then sits in the same chair with you on his lap. 

“Okay, let’s talk, baby,” he says, leaning in to kiss your cheek as he drapes an arm over your legs. Hugh tries not to make it seem like he’s nervous and he isn’t even sure if you take notice because he can see that your mind has drifted, and can feel the tension in your shoulder blades. 

“Jack–”

“What?” 

You take a deep breath and move an arm around his shoulders. “I need to tell you about– about Jack.”

“Baby, you don’t have to–”

“I need to, Hugh.” 

He can see the tears in your eyes and a piece of his heart breaks at the sight. Hugh cups your cheek and gently brushes his thumb across your skin, leaning in to kiss the tip of your nose. “Okay,” he says softly. “I’m here. I’m listening.”

You nod and bite your lower lip. “So, we were together for three years…” 

“That I knew.” 

“The– The abuse, the manipulation, everything happened so fast. I didn’t even realize what was happening until I realized it was too late.” 

Hugh tightens his jaw. He feels anger bubbling within him, but he opts to remain quiet, to keep a neutral look on his face. He knows that you need this, that you need to tell him and he can’t react because he fears that if he does, you’re going to pull away and he knows how important this is that you’re telling him. 

“I had gotten used to his insults… so much so that I started to believe him.” you’re about to get off his lap, about to pull away from him, but he keeps a firm hold on you. When you look into his eyes, all you can see is the concern in his features and the subtle desire to take your pain away. 

“Oh baby…” Hugh whispers quietly. 

“I’m weak and I’m not brave,” you continue. “And that’s because of Jack. I should have left at the first sign of his verbal abuse, but I always–” you can feel your breath catch in your throat. “I always justified his actions. Always felt like it was my fault, that he was acting the way he was and saying the things he’d say because of me. Because I was making things difficult for him.” 

Hugh tightens his jaw when you look away from him, the anger simmering in the pit of his stomach. 

“And I believed him. I thought– I thought I could give all of my love to him and he’d see how much I cared for him, how much I was willing to do anything for him. Because I did,” you say with a disappointed tone. “I did love him and when he broke up with me – he broke up with me –” you shake your head. “It was my fault. It was always my fault. Mine.” 

“Baby, no…” Hugh shakes his head and cups your cheek, his gaze locked onto yours. 

“I couldn’t even break up with him, Hugh. All of the nasty things he’s said to me and I couldn’t–” you shake your head and stand up from his lap before he can pull you back. “I was heartbroken when Jack broke up with me because he made me believe that no one would ever love me… that I wasn’t worthy of love and I fucking believed him.”

Hugh’s foot taps against the floor incessantly. He wants to reach out for you, but he always wants to find Jack and cause him just the same amount of pain – if not more. But then, he hears the words leave your lips and he jumps up from his chair. 

“He hit me once.”

“What?” 

“Hugh…”

“No no, he what?” 

You bite your lower lip and stare up at him. You can see the anger clear in his features and you gently reach out for him, but he just shakes his head. He’s fuming, hands shaking at his sides at your admission. You know this was going to happen, had even expected this reaction, but seeing it firsthand is entirely different. You don’t know how you can even calm him down. 

“I got angry because he had made me make him dinner after a long fucking day at work and–” you sigh. “After that, I learned how to fight because I knew that if he put his hands on me again, I’d fight back and–” 

“Wait, he hit you? Put his hands on you?”

“Hugh…”

“No, baby.” Tears are now pooling at his eyes. “He doesn’t get to do that, do you hear me? He has no fucking right–”

“Hugh!” you raise your voice, staring up at him. “I’m not telling you this to make you angry. I’m telling you this so you can understand why he had so much control over me, why I reacted the way I did when I saw him that one night at dinner, why it’s so fucking hard for me to see how worthy I am of this, of you.” 

Hugh shakes his head. He’s trying – truly, he’s trying so fucking hard to understand (and there’s a big part of him that does), but all he can see is this man putting his hands on you, putting thoughts and words into your mind that aren’t true. 

“Give me his number. The number he called you from a couple of weeks ago,” Hugh says. 

“No.”

“Baby, he can’t just get away with thinking that what he did to you was okay. He can’t get away with still making you feel the way that you do.”

“What are you going to do? Go and beat him up?” you ask, shaking your head. “Hugh, you’d get arrested! It’d be all over the media and–”

“I don’t care!” Hugh yells – it’s the first time that he’s ever raised his voice at you and when he sees you take a step back, it brings him back to reality. “I’m sorry,” he sighs. “I didn’t mean to raise my voice. I just– I can’t fathom this man walking around thinking like he did no wrong, baby.” 

“Nothing you do will help him see that, Hugh.”

“No? Well he hasn’t dealt with someone like me and–”

“Just stop!” 

Hugh furrows a brow. “Baby–”

“No, Hugh…” you cross your arms over your chest, wanting so badly to just get away from this all, away from Jack, away from Hugh. “I don’t need you to save me… I don’t need you to go back to my past and make things better. I just need you to understand the shit I went through is what made me who I am today. And I’m still healing… I’m still working on it, and I just–” your breath catches in your throat once more. “You’ve been so patient with me, so understanding that I figured I’d at least tell you everything because… because I will have moments where it’ll be hard for me to snap out of it.”

“I know, and I appreciate you telling me all of this, baby–” Hugh sighs. “But I can’t just sit here and not do anything about it.”

“You know what,” you tell him, opening the sliding door to walk back into the hotel room. “I’m gonna go for a walk. I can’t be here right now. This wasn’t how I thought this conversation would go.”

“Baby, no–” Hugh walks after you, watching you pull on a jacket and slip on your shoes as you grab your bag. “Please, just stay. I’m sorry.”

“I’m not mad at you,” you tell him quietly. “I just need some space right now.”

“I love you,” Hugh whispers. 

“I know,” you reply, grabbing the hotel key card and setting it in your bag. “I love you too, Hugh, but I just need to be alone right now. We both need to calm down before we say something we’re both going to regret.” 

You don’t give him a chance to respond because just as his mouth opens to say something, you’re already out the door. 

---

taglist (if links don't work, i'm sorry!): @corvusmorte - @dragonqueen89 - @whimsiwitchy - @kellyxo1

@wolviehugh - @moonxknightx - @sullyselena - @angelofthorr - @spectorrrhgf

@needz1nk - @fandomxo00 - @godlypresley - @kythefangirl25 - @callsignyourmom

@sue8724 - @squishyfruitloop - @sylviavf - @emotrash1 - @dissentientss

@sir-thisisadndserver - @absolutepie - @millajay - @itsallyscorner - @haytchee

@wolverigrl - @its-in-the-woods - @d3ad2you - @definitely-not-chill - @khxna

[wosoragebaiter69]

recovery takes time

part 2 of ‘you are broken on the floor’

alexia putellas x keeper!reader

request: here

A/N: reminder that i’m a writer and not a med student so idk what times are like for this..

also since y’all wanted me to ask more questions.. if you’ve experienced anything paranormal lmk because i’m interested in that stuff and experienced stuff myself so 🤷

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

The first few weeks of recovery are the worst, you can’t do anything at all. Even walking is a challenge, how would you ever go back to where you were?

Alexia was always by your side though, helping wherever she could considering you weren’t allowed to lift anything. The concussion went away as expected and now was just a long journey of recovery ahead.

“You and I both know you’ll be back out on the soon, give yourself time. Recovery isn’t a quick process, remember what you told me when I did my ACL.” She’d say things similar to that, and for a while you’d believe her until you saw what the media kept saying.

As much as it affected your mental health, it only made you want to come back stronger and be better, to prove the critics wrong. To show the world who you were and that you were staying.

- - - - -

After 10 weeks, you could do regular tasks again. It did tire you out but it gave you strength and the feeling you had control over something. It’s something you so desperately needed, outside of Alexia of course.

You started to head back to the training grounds for meetings with physios and trainers who were doing their best to assess where to start when lifting weights and doing other flexible motions with your arms and chest that isn’t too harsh.

While it still isn’t much, it’s still something. That’s all that matters.

- - - - -

When you were first cleared to lift 5kg, Alexia was there. She always was when you had more progress in getting closer to the pitch. She was your number 1 supporter and it really encouraged you to be better.

When you could fully stretch your arms without pain or feeling uncomfortable, she was there.

When you could go back to lifting regular weights in gym sessions, she’d watch you while feeling immense pride at how far you’d come.

When you were kicked balls to for the first time again, she watched and congratulated every ball you saved.

She’s your knight in shining armour.

- - - - -

The day of your first game, a year of recovery behind you. You were finally starting for your club again. You stand tall behind your girlfriend who sports the armband.

Ever since it was announced you were in training and back in the squad, the media had been relentless. Asking too many questions. Wondering too many things.

You had one job tonight, and that was to show the world who you were. Who you are. Who you will be.

You walk out, fans yelling and cheering as the Barça anthem plays in the background. You missed this so bad.

- - - - -

The game was tough, some shots on you but you managed to keep a clean sheet. Alexia smiling and crowd roaring at you as you did so.

When the final whistle blows, Ale runs to you first pulling you into a crushing hug.

“Mi amor, you did so well.” She wraps her arms around your waist and kisses your neck.

“Thanks Ale, couldn’t have done it without you.” You reply, hands brushing up and down her back.

No matter what happened in life, you’d always want to do it with Alexia. Only Alexia.

—————————————————————————

i’m gonna close my requests for the time being so i can get through my 7 other works 🙏

[hughes86-43]

tough love | M. Barzal

request - can you write for Mat and do enemies to lovers as coworkers. maybe she’s on the social team and she gets hurt getting content and he’s the one to help her get to the trainers for medical attention? (thanks for requesting :)

warnings - mentions of blood, not sure what else but please let me know if there is more! some grammar mistakes present.

To say working on the social media team for a NHL team being your live long dream would be an understatement. Ever since you watched your first NHL game with your dad, you somehow someway wanted to work for one of the teams. You went to school, and you worked hard to get to where you are now.

The lead social media member for the New York Islanders.

You honestly cried when they first offered the job to you. You couldn’t believe it. All your hard work was starting to pay off.

Upon your first year there, you met all of the Islanders team, and also, made some great friendships with them. You did your best to be friendly with everyone as you were going to constantly be working around them. Mostly everyone was very welcoming and friendly towards you, however there is always that one person that begins to get on your last nerves every time you see him.

That person for you was Mat Barzal.

The truth was you never did like him especially since you heard what he had said about you. Within the first month that you were there, you had been walking to your office when you overheard your name down the hall. Thinking someone was wanting you, you walked down the hall, but you stopped at the doorway when you heard what actually was being said.

“I don’t know man, just something about her is nerve wracking. Maybe it’s the over-the-top excitement about everything, I don’t know, or maybe it’s just the way she is constantly annoying in those meetings.” Even though you had only met him twice in that first month, you could tell that the voice was Mat. Once you heard him say that, you made your way back down the hallway to your office. Shutting the door, you did your best to not let it get to your head.

However, no matter what he thought of you, you still wouldn’t let that keep you down. You were just excited that you finally got your dream job, and you were not about to let someone you barely knew get you down about it.

Now over a year later, that hatred you felt for Mat was still there. You didn’t know if he ever noticed it, but you didn’t exactly hide that you didn’t like him either.

The Islanders were playing the Panthers at home tonight. You arrived to the arena for morning practice in your black dress pants with a blue sweater paired with black heeled boots. Multiple of your coworkers complimented you on your outfit that it was perfectly matched with the Islanders blue.

You walked down the long hallway to your office to get your notes for the media coverage today. You were unfortunately going to be interviewing Mat after practice, but fortunately you also would be interviewing other, nicer players after him.

During practice, you advised the intern photographer of what types of shots they should be getting, practicing for the game later tonight. Soon after, all the players were off the ice and down the hall to the locker room to change. Leaving you to mentally prepare for interviewing Mat.

Mat was always professional during the interviews he did with you, however you could tell that he was just trying to get it over with, which he doesn’t do with any of the other media people. That action itself makes you even more annoyed at him.

As you were waiting to get the all clear to make your way to the locker room, you got held up by your office door not opening. You tried the key card and everything but it just wouldn’t open for some reason. Deciding to just figure it out later, even though your notes were in there, you went to the locker room. The whole fiasco had made you late by ten minutes, so you knew that Mat would be annoyed at you.

That assumption was true as you walked into the locker room and saw him on his phone. When he heard you walked in, he spoke to you with an annoying tone. “Other important things to take care of, huh?” You took a deep breathe, trying not to let your emotions get the best of you.

“Yes, sorry, my key card wouldn’t let me into my office,” you say as you get your mic ready for him while trying to rummage through your bag for your water.

“Here, give me the mic.” He grabs it out of your hand after you didn’t respond for five seconds. “Are you sure you weren’t fired?” Although you could tell he was just trying to get a reaction out of you, you couldn’t help but to give a sarcastic answer.

“Seeing as no one has came and dragged me out of here yet, I think I’m still good. You couldn’t make a goal during practice, are you sure you’re still going to be starting tonight?” You turn your head away from your bag and stare dead into his eyes. He gives you a blank stare.

“Is that part of the interview? Trying to take shots at me now, huh?”

You grab back the mic from him and take your seat in-front of him. “No, that wasn’t part of the interview, and I’ll take as many shots at you that I want, since you seemingly want to do the same.” You get comfortable in your chair, leaning back and crossing one leg over the other, which then causes your water bottle to fall to the floor. Water goes everywhere, because of course the lid wasn’t on good.

You reach out to grab your water bottle, the same time that Mat reaches down with a towel in his hand to clean it up. You try to take it out of his hand, but he keeps pulling it from you. “Here, I can do it!” You say reaching out for it again. “No, I got it, I can do it, just put your lid back on your bottle before it gets worse!” You end up just letting him clean up the water as you put the lid back on, because truly you could’ve went back and forth with him for a lot longer.

He stands up and walks to take the towel to the hamper by the door. Once he sits back down, you ask, “Are we ready to start now?”

“Yes, unless you’re going to spill your water again?” You roll your eyes at that and begin asking the questions.

Twenty minutes later, you finish with the last question. You turn the mic off and throw it back into your bag until the next one. You’re rummaging around your bag again when you find the key card that was actually the right one for your office. “Ugh!” You say out loud, not noticing that Mat was still in the room.

From his stall, he whips his head around so fast and makes his way towards you. “What? Are you okay?” You jump when you turn around, not realizing he was closer than he seemed. “Sorry for scaring you, what’s wrong?” He says eyeing you up and down, practically seeing if you broke anything.

“Oh, nothing. I just found the right key card to my office.” You wave the key card in front of you. Mat nervously runs his hand through his hair, backing up to give you your space back.

“Oh, that’s good, great, guess that means we’re stuck with you, eh?” At that, you throw your key back into your back, along with your water bottle, and throw your bag onto your shoulder.

“Yep, guess so! Now if you don’t mind, I’m going to go back to my office, which means I’m not fired, and prepare for the next interview, so thanks!” You just want nothing more than to get into your office and let out the emotions you’ve been trying to hold in.

Mat seems to notice the change in your demeanor, he reaches out to touch your shoulder. “Hey, are you okay? I was only joking,” he says softly but you move out of his reach.

“Yep, all good! I know you’re joking, it’s all good!” You rush out the door before he can saying anything else.

-

You make it through all the interviews, make you’re way home to take a nap, and now your back for the game tonight. You changed your outfit to blue pants and a black long sleeve paired with the same boots from earlier.

You managed to get into your office with the right key this time. You take some last minute notes before heading to your spot in the arena.

You spend the first and second period in your spot with the other media people behind the glass. You send out tweets, take videos, send instructions on what the intern photographer should take photos of, and take notes to ask the players after the game. During the third period, you’re doing the same until the worst thing imaginable happens to you.

It’s 5 minutes left in the final period, the opposing team ends up with the puck on the opposite side of the ice from you. You weren’t paying attention much to what was happening on the ice, which you should’ve been, since the puck somehow ended up flying over the glass and hitting you under the eye. It has you stumbling to find your balance, you hold your cheek, and you can feel the blood flowing down it.

Mat sees it all happen. The puck flying through the air, over the glass and hitting you. He can see the blood gushing down your cheek. He rushes to the bench to get a trainer. He’s practically trying to climb over the glass to see if you’re okay, because the amount of blood doesn’t seem that good. The trainers are around the glass within seconds to get you up and down the tunnel to the medical room.

You faintly hear someone say “I’ll check on you after” but you’re not sure if the force of the hit left you hallucinating things. You’re also not sure if that was Mat or not who was rushing towards you behind the glass.

-

You finish the rest of the period laying on a medical table in the medical room. They ruled out anything major; they just had to stitch you up. Now you just have to lay there for thirty minutes with an ice pack on your face until they rule that you’re good to go home.

Ten minutes or so after, you hear someone ask one of the medical staff about you. They must’ve said that you’re still here, because you see Mat coming through the door looking frantic. He changed out of his gear, mostly now just in shorts and a hoodie.

He spots you laying on the table in the corner, he rushes over to you. “Oh, gosh, are you okay? I came as fast a could to check on you.” He pulls up a chair to sit next to you. He’s not sure whether he should reach out to touch you or not, but he decides not to, not yet anyway.

“Yeah, I think so, pretty much. They stitched me up and gave me some Tylenol for the pain,” You reply back, trying to look anywhere but at him.

He nods his head at your answer. “That’s good, that’s good,” he says nervously.

With his nervous tone, you turn your head to look at him. For someone that finds you annoying, he sure seems to be worked up about something, you think to yourself. Heck, he probably came to make sure you died but got disappointed.

Deciding to speak up after a couple minutes of awkward silence. You ask him, “Why did you help me out there? I would’ve though you would have left me lying there.”

Mat looks down at you with a shocked look on his face. “Why would I do that? Just leave you there? As you’re bleeding down your face?”

“Well yeah, you’re not really my biggest fan, ya know,” you reply as a matter of fact, like he should know that.

“What? Where’d you get that from?” He’s now trying to decide if he should go get one of the medical staff as he is now worried that the hit as made you go crazy.

“Oh, I don’t know, since you said that my excitement about working was over the top or the fact you said that I was annoying.”

“When did I ever say that?” He pauses. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” you wave your hand around, “Plus, you’ve never not been annoyed with me during interviews, when you’ve been nothing but nice to anyone else so.”

Mat sits there trying to process everything you’ve been saying. “Oh.”

Honestly, you’re pretty sure your just spilling all the thoughts on your mind right now. “It’s not like you’ve been my favorite person or anything. I’ve been trying to annoy you since you said that.”

��Oh-” Mat starts, but you continue talking.

“And then I was annoyed this morning because you really want me fired for some reason since you joked about it all morning.”

Mat tries to get another sentence out. “I don’t want you fired-”

You’re still rambling on and on. “I mean, I get it, I really do. My excitement can be over the top sometimes about things, but I don’t think that warrants being fired over-”

“Y/N-”

“I mean what’s wrong with being excited? I’ve worked hard and nobody else seems to think I should be fired, well except you and this lady down the hall, but that was probably because I spilt my drink on her by accident, but still-”

“Y/N!” That shuts you right up. “Did the puck rattle you so much that you’re going crazy now? Take a deep breath with me, you’ve been talking nonstop without taking a moment to breathe.”

You follow his breathing and calm down a bit. You lay your head back down on the table with the washcloth back on your cut. However, you shoot your head back up at what Mat says.

“You know, I never wanted you to be fired. Heck, you’re so good at your job that I don’t think anyone else would be as good as you, so they wouldn’t want to fire you.”

You’re the confused one right now, “Huh?”

“Shhh, it’s my turn to talk now. Honestly, I don’t even know why I said those things about you. I know I was wrong for saying those things about you, and I’m sorry,” He looks into your eyes. “I love how you’re so excited about what you do and it’s understandable because you worked so hard to get to where you are. Overtime, I’ve started to admire how hard you work and how excited you are to do the work that you do. It has always made me so happy to see you do the thing you love to do. I guess my way to showcase that was by annoying you, though.”

You stare at him with your mouth wide open, completely shocked by what he is saying. You take a second to process what he just said, you reply, “Are you serious right now? Because Mat, I swear, if you’re messing with me right now to get a reaction, now is not the time and it would not be good for you.”

Mat frantically shakes his head. “No, no. I promise I’m being serious,” he runs his hand through his hair. “I guess what I was trying to say is that I like you a lot.”

You lay your head back down to think over what just happened in the last hour or so. “I’m dying, aren’t I? I’m hallucinating this. I’m losing my mind. You get hit by a puck in the face one time, and now, you’re losing your mind.”

Mat laughs at your dramatics, but quickly gathers himself to comfort you. “Hey, Y/N, I promise you’re not dying. You’re just fine, everything is fine, you just had to get stitches, and you’re going to be good to go home soon.”

Finally, after debating it a lot, he reaches out to run his hand over your hair, and surprisingly, you let him. After taking some deep breaths and calming down a bit, you say, “Okay, I’m okay. Sorry, I don’t know what happened there.” You shakily let out a laugh.

Mat still has a hand in your hair, and he smiles down at you. “It’s okay, all is good. Guess I probably could’ve waited to tell you all that, but I couldn’t after seeing you almost dying out there.”

“No, I’m glad you did. Honestly, I like you a lot, too. I think I’ve just been too annoyed at you to realize that. Maybe we both have just been flirting back at each other without realizing it,” you jokingly say.

“Maybe so, but truly, I’m glad you’re okay.” He runs a thumb over your cheek under the stitched up cut.

You both relish in that moment until the medical staff comes in. “Okay, you’re good to go, do you think you can drive back or do we need to call someone?”

“No, I think I’m okay to drive, and if not, I have someone to help me.” You thank them before hopping off the table to grab your bag.

Mat walks up beside you and places his hand on your lower back to steady you after seeing you trying to regain your balance. “Do you really think you can drive home by yourself?”

You turn your head to look at him and give him a grin. “Oh, I’m still a bit dizzy so no, but I know someone who can drive me though.” You give him a wink and hand him your keys.

“Me? You want me to drive you home?”

He’s not sure if he has died and went to Heaven. You laugh, “Yes, you! Now c’mon, I’m tired and I need someone to take care of me, so show me how caring you are, and take me home. We can go from there.” Mat didn’t have to think for a second longer as he followed right beside you to your car. Certainly not the night you thought would happen, but you can be glad something good came from it.

[junrenjun]

but even after this, you're still everything to me

choi seungcheol x reader, formula 1 au

genre: heavy angst

wc: 5.5k

warnings: fem reader, enemies to lovers, misogyny, death threats

a/n: another request by @straykidsstanforeverandever. lot's of heavy f1 jargon and such in this. if you aren't super in tune with f1, there may some references you don't understand. read with caution. title is a lyric from the grudge by olivia rodrigo.

Imola has always been one of your least favorite tracks to drive. And after today, you never want to come near it again. Maybe you’ll fake an illness when the time comes around next season. It would be nice to let the development drivers get some real racing time and you wouldn’t have to drive this cursed track again. 

A voice in your ears distracts you from the little pity party you’ve started in your brain. “Are you okay y/n?” 

Your race engineer’s question reminds you that your radio is being publicized on live television right this moment. Sighing, you quickly respond, “yeah Will, I’m fine. Today’s just not my day.”

The answer is half-hearted, but the man knows better than to question you right now, when you’re being recorded. He settles with, “okay, red flags are out for you. You can hop out of the car when you’re ready.”

You don’t think you’ll ever be ready. But life is tough and Formula 1 is tougher, so you undo your belts and pull yourself out of the car. You take a minute to inspect your blown out tire, before taking your helmet off. Marshals surround you, asking if you are alright, but you brush them off. You just want to be back in your driver’s room already. 

The journey back to the paddock is a painful one, both mentally and physically. Your knee is throbbing from where it hit against the side of the car on impact. You pray the cameras don’t pick up your limp. It takes all of your energy not to cry when you see the pitying expressions of the rest of the McLaren crew. Another potential win out the window, just like that. 

The rest of the race passes by in a flash. Between going to medical as per your trainer’s request (the cameras did in fact pick up the limp) and changing out of your race suit, you only catch the last three laps. One of the Mercedes cars wins by practically a mile. And it’s fucking Choi Seungcheol of all people. 

You have half a thought to turn the TV in your driver’s room off the second he crosses the finish line, but you don’t. You’re itching to hear whatever dumb thing he says in his interview today. The man is a walking PR nightmare. 

Sure enough, the camera is chasing after him the second he steps out of the car. After a few second water break, he turns to the interviewer, who asks him, “Great win today Seungcheol. You worked your way up from 5th to 1st within a few laps today. How does that feel?”

“It feels great. I mean I couldn’t have done it without y/n’s tire of course…”

You turn the TV off, cutting him off the second he mentions your name. Slumping back even more on the couch, you throw an arm over your eyes and let out a frustrated sigh. Whatever possessed you to choose a male dominated sport?

You’re thrown out of your thoughts once again by a voice from your doorway. “At least it was kind of a compliment, eh?”

When you peek out from under your arm, Oscar is leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed. You remove your arm from your face, scooting farther down the couch and patting the spot next to you. The Aussie moves to join you. 

After a few moments of silence you turn to face him. “You made it back to the paddock pretty fast.”

It’s his turn to groan this time. “I retired 7 laps from the end. Engine failure. I was in 3rd.”

You hum, wistfully. Then turn to look out the window. “Bad day to be Papaya, I guess. Think we can convince Jungwon and Pato to take our places at Imola next season? I think I have PTSD from this track now.”

Oscar simply snorts in response. For the small amount of time remaining before you have to face the nightmare that is media duty, you simply enjoy sulking together. 

A little less than a week later, you’re standing on one of your all-time favorite tracks: Monaco. Your mood now is starkly different than it was at Imola. You’re practically bouncing on your heels waiting for FP1 preparations. Jungwon is by your side, instructed by your team principal to “learn from the best,” since he’ll be driving here for F2. 

The kid is clearly a little nervous, but he’s endearing and a pretty decent driver, so you don’t mind. You’ve already gone over the track layout with him, giving him tips for certain corners and telling him where he can make up extra time. There’s not much feedback left to give until you see him drive in person, so you resort to small talk.

As you both walk up and down the pit lane, Seungcheol saunters up to you. You resist the urge to walk away, trying to keep a good display of sportsmanship in front of your junior driver. The Mercedes driver however, clearly does not care, because he says, “is this your replacement after the Imola incident y/n?”

Jungwon, bless his soul, looks mortified. It takes everything in you to not fire a sarcastic remark back. You’re both saved from the awkwardness by Oscar though, who steps in between you and Seungcheol. He clears his throat and tells you, “Andrea is looking for you. I’ll take Jungwon for now.”

You know Andrea is most likely not looking for you. You saw him ten minutes ago when you left the garage. Thank god for Oscar’s ability for thinking on the spot. Now you have some personal time to cool off before free practice.

Both Jungwon and Oscar watch as you jog back to the garage. The Aussie lets out a relieved sigh once you are back safely. He turns to make sure Seungcheol has walked away. Thankfully, he has. 

The younger driver looks at the other quizzically. “I didn’t really realize the rivalry was actually real. I thought it was an act for the cameras.”

Pushing around a stray rock with the toe of his shoe, Oscar sighs again. “Would you believe me if I said they were teammates once?”

Jungwon’s jaw practically unhinges from his face with how far it drops. The kid is probably too young to know them in any capacity other than their rivalry. “But they hate each other…” he muses aloud.

Oscar urges the kid to keep moving along the track with a hand on his back. “Yeah, well they used to not hate each other. They were F2 teammates. It’s none of my business to tell you everything that went down but something happened that year. By the end of the championship they wouldn’t even speak to each other.” 

Jungwon nods in response, but doesn’t say anything. It’s clear that Oscar won’t give up much information, so he drops the subject. But every once in a while, his mind turns back to it. What could’ve been so bad that you guys couldn’t even talk to each other as teammates? If it was some sort of on-track collision he’s sure it would’ve been talked about in the media constantly. Now he’s really going to have to find out. 

And there’s no one better to consult than his own teammate, Lee Chan, who happens to be in the Mercedes Junior Driver Programme.

“You want me to do what?” he asks incredulously. “He’s my mentor, I’m not going to bring that up. Are you dumb?”

“Dude, aren't you curious too?” Jungwon questions.

Chan rolls his eyes at his teammate. “Yeah I’m curious but not curious enough to risk my spot in this program just to ask Choi Seungcheol why he has rivalry with y/n.” 

“You don’t even have to ask him directly,” Jungwon tells him. “I asked Oscar about it, not y/n. Maybe you can ask George or Jeonghan about it.”

Chan throws his hands up in exasperation. “Oh even better, not only do I involve two of the biggest names in Formula 1, I involve one of their trainers and their teammates. What a genius idea!”

Jungwon covers Chan’s mouth as quickly as he can. They’re still in the paddock after all. “Dude keep it down.” 

The man just stares back at the McLaren junior driver, who sighs and says, “listen, I’ll try my best to get something out of y/n too. It’s not just you doing something.”

“Yeah that’s so motivating Jungwon,” Chan says sarcastically.

“Okay, okay,” he finally lets up. “I’ll pay for all of your afterparty drinks this weekend if you figure something out.”

This is motivating enough for Chan apparently, because he reaches his hand out for Jungwon to shake. They come to an agreement and part ways, heading back to their respective hospitalities.

Chan watches in the Mercedes garage as you set the fastest lap at the very end of Q3. He knows Seungcheol is going to be pissed when he gets back. Not only did you qualify P1, but he only qualified P6. His temper is much worse when he’s mad at both himself and someone else. 

Following Chan’s prediction to a tee, Seungcheol steps out the car practically fuming. He tosses his helmet at Jeonghan, who, as his trainer, is quite used to his behavior at this point and catches it. He marches right up to Toto, who is watching a replay of your final lap, and says, “she should’ve had a track limit violation at the chicane.”

Toto turns to him, surprisingly calm, and simply tells him, “She didn’t cut the corner enough to incur a limit violation.”

This is not the answer he wanted to hear, so he turns on his heel to stomp off to his driver’s room. Toto shouts at him from over his shoulder. “Take Chan with you. If you’re going to overanalyze every single mistake you made, at least someone should learn from it.”

Seungcheol whips his head back around to look at Chan, who nervously gulps. He wants to be mad at the kid, but he can’t find a reason to when he’s practically shaking like a leaf. Clearly he didn’t want to be thrown into this situation either. “C’mon,” he mutters and gestures at the junior driver to follow him. 

Back in his driver’s room, he unzips his suit, tying the arms around his waist before plopping down on the couch. When he looks up, the kid is still hovering by the door. Grabbing his iPad from the table, Seungcheol gestures for him to come sit down.

But Chan hesitates. “I can leave you alone, you know? I won’t tell Toto.” 

Seungcheol just rolls his eyes and gestures to the couch again. “C’mon kid. As much as I hate him right now, he’s right. You might as well learn from this and you’re already here.”

Chan makes his way to the couch rather cautiously and sits as far away as possible from the man, who is scrolling through the footage from qualifying. Without even looking over at him, Seungcheol says, “you can sit closer. I’m not going to bite.”

Not wanting to make him mad, Chan scoots a few inches closer. When he looks over at the iPad again, Seungcheol’s fingers are hovering over a video. He hasn’t clicked on it yet. He just sits there and stares at it. When Chan looks a little closer, he can make out your car in the thumbnail. 

Seungcheol clears his throat, looking away for a second. And then he turns back to Chan and says, “is it…uh okay if we watch y/n’s lap first?”

The question kind of stuns him. He was expecting Seungcheol to avoid any reminder of you at all costs. Scared that his voice will betray him, he just nods.

Seungcheol clicks on the video and they watch. The video is on mute and there’s no commentary from either of them. Just silence. As the lap ends, he pauses the video and whispers, “that was a good lap.”

Chan is even more surprised now. He was expecting a frustrated sigh or any sort of mean comment. But he doesn’t get any of that. Now, Chan’s scared that it’s a setup. That he’s trying to get him to agree just to berate him for it. He doesn’t know what to say.

Seungcheol senses that he’s not going to say anything and takes it upon himself to start the conversation. “She’s always been good at Monaco. Even since the first time she drove the track.”

This has really piqued Chan’s interest. Since her first time? Seungcheol was there the first time she drove Monaco? That had to be what? F2?

And then it dawns on him. Jungwon said something about them being teammates in F2. Hoping that the information is public knowledge (it should be, practically their whole racing lives are on Wikipedia) Chan decides to ask about it. “Was that when you were teammates?” He cringes the second the words come out of his mouth. Jungwon owes him big time.

While Chan was expecting him to look angry, Seungcheol just looks at the iPad dejectedly. “Yeah. At Prema. Do you…know about that whole thing?” he asks the boy.

Jackpot. Seungcheol willingly talking about it? He’d never thought this would happen. Then Chan remembers he actually has to respond to him. “Uhm, no I don’t think so. Jungwon said you guys were more…amicable back then.”

“Jungwon’s your teammate at MP?” he asks Chan, who nods in response. Then, Seunghcheol throws a curveball at him. “You’re not attracted to him right?”

Chan sputters at the question. “What? What does this have to do with anything?” When he looks Seungcheol in the eyes he’s dead serious. So he humors him. “No, I’m not attracted to Jungwon. I’m not even gay.”

Seungcheol just nods. “Okay, good. I mean good that you’re not attracted to him. There’s nothing wrong with being gay.”

This is getting weirder by the second. Chan gives him a questioning look. Why the personal questions?

Exasperatedly, Seungcheol sighs and says, “I don’t want to tell you this if it’s too relatable. I don’t want to scare you and make you not pursue a relationship because of something that happened to me.”

Chan is finally starting to put the pieces together. Then the light bulb goes off and he shoots out of his seat. “You and y/n were together?” he practically shouts.

The older driver drags him back down to his seat and shoves a hand over his mouth. “Be quiet, would you?” Then he releases Chan and slumps back against the couch. “I wouldn’t call it together. We weren’t dating, we knew that F1 would ultimately cause heartbreak for the both of us. We were just messing around. But we were exclusive, I guess.”

Chan doesn’t say anything. He just nods and waits for him to continue. “It was stupid and we both knew it. Especially y/n. She knew that if we got caught, it would affect her career more than mine. Even if we both knew that she was a better driver than I was. This sport isn’t kind to women.”

Seungcheol looks like he might cry. It’s so different from the Seungcheol that Chan witnessed 15 minutes ago in the garage. He doesn’t know what to do. He frowns and lets the man finish his story. 

“Y/n was a part of the Red Bull Junior Team at the time. She had been promised an F1 seat within 3 years if she won the championship. I was in the Mercedes Academy at the time too. So we attended a lot of F1 events together. And I was stupid enough to drag her to makeout in a hidden corner of the paddock at one of them.”

He paused, like the next part of the story would pain him to say. “A member of the press caught us. We both knew we were so screwed. He could easily out us right that second or even use it to blackmail us. Luckily Angelo from Prema was there with us that weekend and helped us negotiate with the man. Turns out this press guy is a big fucking misogynist because the final deal was that he wouldn’t out us if he could tell Christian Horner about our relationship. Said he ‘didn’t want no bitches in Formula 1.’ Prick.”

“Christian kicked her out of the junior program when he found out. He’s also a misogynist. I’m glad she didn’t end up there. He told her that he prefers people who win championships through dedication, not those who sleep to the top. But instead of being mad at him or the press guy, she was mad at me. She told me that I ruined her career. That she would never get into Formula 1 because of me. So she never spoke to me again unless it was at work.”

Chan looks at him skeptically. “But her career turned out fine.”

Seungcheol just shrugs. “Exactly.”

Chan is even more confused now. Understandably, you were upset by this whole situation. But why is Seungcheol a dick to you now? “But the whole rivalry? You seem to have started the hostility in that. Not her.”

The man sighs. “Her career turned out fine, Chan. But she continued to be mad at me.”

It’s starting to click in his brain. “So you’re mad at her because she never forgave you?” Chan asks. 

All Seungcheol says is, “bingo.”

They’re interrupted by Jeonghan knocking on the door and letting the F1 driver know that he’s due in a few minutes for media duties. Seungcheol leaves Chan on his couch without another word. 

“You’re buying my drinks in Barcelona too,” Chan tells Jungwon the second he opens his hotel room door.

Jungwon gapes at him. “What? We only agreed to the afterparty,” he says as the boys walk further into the room, away from prying eyes and ears. 

“Yeah well that was if I got you any information. I got you the whole fucking story, dude.” Jungwon’s eyes are as wide as saucers and he immediately starts asking about it. Chan recounts Seungcheol’s monologue to the best of his abilities. 

“Holy shit, dude,” Jungwon says once he’s finished, flopping down on his bed. “It’s like the opposite of enemies to lovers.”

Chan rolls his eyes at his teammate. “It’s sad, Jungwon. Y/n lost her future job and Seungcheol at the same time. And now they can’t even be civil with each other because they’re holding grudges.”

Jungwon mulls over his words for a minute. “Maybe I’ll ask y/n about it when she’s drunk tomorrow.”

“How do you even know she’s going to be drunk tomorrow, Won?” Chan asks his teammate.

He turns to flash a cheshire grin at Chan before plainly stating, “she’s either going to podium and drink to celebrate, or she’s going to do bad and drink to mourn.”

Chan rolls his eyes once again. “Speaking of which, I’m going to bed. No matter how well I do tomorrow, you’re paying for my drinks.” He drags himself out of Jungwon’s room and down the hall to his own.

You and Oscar are sitting at a table in the far back of the club, away from the hustle and bustle of the rest of the afterparty. Mingyu from Ferrari, his trainer Jungkook, Mark from Red Bull, and Chenle from Aston Martin are also gathered around. You’re enjoying the light conversation, basking in the high of your win.

Mark catches your attention after a minute of you spacing out, pointing toward the closest bar. “Isn’t that your little shadow, y/n?” When you look over you see Jungwon conversing with a blonde kid around his age. 

“Yeah,” you muse. “Kind of recognize the kid he’s talking to too. Can’t put a finger on his name though.” 

“That’s his teammate from F2. Lee Chan I think,” Oscar pipes up from across the table. “The kid with the otter helmet.”

A collective “ohhh,” leaves everyone at the table. “I’m going to get another drink,” you tell them. “Might bring the kids back with me.”

Mingyu snickers at you as you leave. “You can’t adopt them all, y/n!” he shouts as you leave. You flip him off behind your back. 

Approaching the bar, you order another drink for yourself and saunter over to where Jungwon is standing. “Hi Wonie,” you say, catching him by surprise as you ruffle his hair a bit. You turn to acknowledge his teammate too. “Hi Chan.”

Chan points back at himself like he’s surprised you know his name. “Is your name not Chan? Oh fuck I’m too drunk for this.” you berate yourself out loud. 

“Uh no ma’am, my name is Chan. Just surprised you know me, that’s all.” he says. 

You giggle a little bit. “Don’t call me ma’am, it makes me feel old. You’re the kid with the otter helmet, right?”

“Yes ma’am,” he says, before correcting himself. “No, I mean, yes. Yes, I’m the kid with the otter helmet.” You can hear Jungwon cackling at his friend behind you. 

You smile at him again before turning back to Jungwon. “Well I’m heading back to sit with those four dumbasses,” you say, pointing back to your table where Jungkook and Mingyu are arguing over something on Mark’s phone. “You two wanna keep me company so I don’t have to deal with them by myself the entire night?”

Jungwon lights up at the question. “Of course!” he practically shouts, and drags a begrudging Chan by the arm to follow you.

When you reach the table, you pat the empty seat next to you, gesturing for Jungwon to sit. Chan grabs the chair next to Mingyu, who messes with his hair and murmurs something about, “the otter kid.”

Jungwon seizes his opportunity ten minutes later, when Mingyu and Oscar are engrossed in a conversation with Chan, Jungkook has gone to the bathroom, and Mark and Chenle are on a video call with Mark’s boyfriend.

“I’m surprised you’re okay with Chan being here,” he says to you as quietly as possible, while still trying to be louder than the music. 

Your eyebrows scrunch at the comment, clearly confused. “Why?” you ask him.

You follow his eyes as they search around the crowd. They land on Seungcheol. Still facing your rival, he says, “Chan is a Merc Junior. Seungcheol is his mentor.”

Letting your eyes wander back to Jungwon, you steel your face into something more serious. “Jungwon, just because Chan is being mentored by a driver I hate doesn’t change my opinion of him.”

“You really hate him?” Jungwon asks. “I understand you guys don’t like each other for whatever reason, but hate is a strong word, right?”

You sigh at him. “Hate is in fact a strong word Jungwon,” is all you say and you leave it at that.

After a minute of uncomfortable silence, he decides to push his luck again. “...Chan said you guys used to be really close. When you were in F2 like us.” 

“Yeah,” is all you say in response. The conversation is just barely hanging on by a thread.

“I don’t want me and Chan to end up like that.” It’s kind of a low blow, he thinks, especially when you’re a little drunk, but it works. You turn to him with sad eyes and reach out to rub his hand comfortingly. 

You whisper so lowly, Jungwon can barely hear it. “You won’t end up like us, Wonie. I promise.”

The near tears in your eyes have him getting emotional too. All signs are showing that Seungcheol’s story is likely true. One last test to find out. “Why not?” he asks.

The tears are getting closer to spilling over and you turn your head to blink them away. While you’re still facing away, you mumble, “your relationship isn’t like ours. At least I hope it’s not.”

Hook. Line. Sinker. Jungwon’s got it now. Seungcheol was definitely telling the truth. He feels a little guilty about prying it out of you like that, but you seem to have sobered up with the conversation. Oscar’s voice breaks both of you out of your little bubble. “Y/n, everyone is going to head back to the hotel soon. You ready?”

You nod vigorously at the man, probably to hide the fact that there are tears in your eyes. You hop off your chair, grabbing your bag and your phone. Then, you lean down to ruffle Jungwon’s hair a bit. “Goodnight Wonie. You and Chan be safe tonight please.”

After bidding everyone else goodbye in the lobby, you and Oscar take the elevator up to your floors. Oscar’s room is one floor beneath yours, so he says goodnight with a comforting hug and a congratulations on the win. As you ride the elevator up once more, you think back to your conversation with Jungwon. Next time you see Seungcheol, you need to tell him to keep his mouth shut.

The elevator doors open and you turn to head to your room. You see a familiar flash of blonde hair round the corner. What convenient timing. You pick up your pace and grab his sleeve, and he whips around with a deadly look in his eyes. It only slightly softens when he realizes it’s you. You shoot him an equally deadly look back. “You want to tell me why my mentee was asking me questions about our relationship?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” is all he says. You roll your eyes.

“Don’t play stupid Cheol. You know Jungwon and Chan are teammates. What did you tell Chan?” As much as he wants to hate you right now, his heart can’t help but skip a beat when you call him Cheol. It’s been so long since you’ve called him that. 

“I didn’t tell Chan anything. Why would I tell him about anything other than racing?” he counters back.

It’s not believable enough for you, so you push. “Jungwon said something about Chan knowing we were close in F2.” 

Seungcheol, tired and wanting to just go to bed, tries to pull his sleeve out of your grip, but you relent. “You can look that up on the Internet y/n. Would you please let me go to bed?”

“No Seungcheol. This concerns both of us. He was asking all the right questions. If you told Chan about us, there’s no guarantee he keeps it to himself. He clearly already told Jungwon.”

He finally frees his sleeve from your grasp. “Can we at least take this somewhere private?” he whispers. You nod and he pulls you down the hall. He’s taking you to his room, you realize and the thought makes you sick.

Once safely inside of his room, he turns back to you with a fire in his eyes. “You wouldn’t have to worry about any of this if you forgave me.” It’s not the words you were expecting to hear, but they also don’t surprise you. 

You try your best to compose yourself. “You ruined my career Seungcheol. Of course I never forgave you.”

He throws his hands up in exasperation. “I clearly did not ruin your career. Look at yourself right now. You’re getting paid more than me. You’re way ahead of me in the championship. Your career is perfectly fine.” This comment starts what is basically a slightly hushed screaming match. 

“I had to fight my way in and got lucky with McLaren. I had a guaranteed seat at RB and you know that.” 

“You know it’s for the best that you didn’t end up there.” 

“That doesn’t make it okay!”

“What was I supposed to do, y/n. I couldn’t have stopped that press guy, I couldn’t have stopped Christian from releasing you, I couldn’t have controlled any of this. But you were the one that stopped talking to me. Just because we cut things off doesn’t mean I had to deal with radio silence for the next year.”

You pause, thinking over what you’re about to tell him. “I had to.”

He crosses his arms and he straightens his posture. “Bullshit.”

“I had to because of the press guy,” you tell him, urgently. 

“We took care of him, y/n,” he deadpans at you. He’s getting uncomfortable with the conversation now. He can’t sit still. 

Tears well in your eyes at the thought of releasing your biggest secret to the man you once loved. “He’s your fucking superfan Seungcheol. He’s been following you since your karting days, like a creep. That’s why he found us in the paddock that day. He was following you. And when he saw us together he took it as an opportunity. He saw me as a threat to your career. He didn’t just get rid of my Red Bull seat. He threatened me for months after through phone calls and emails, saying that if he ever saw me talking to you, he would end my career for good this time.” 

The tears in your eyes have finally spilled. Seungcheol’s heart breaks, both at your words and at the sight of you crying. After a minute of gaping at the revelation, he steps forward and wraps his arms around you. He rests his chin on top of your head as he lets you sob into his chest. 

“He,” you stutter, “he told me that if I didn’t let you win the F2 championship, he would kill me. That’s why I crashed at Baku and didn’t podium the rest of the year.” You rest your head back against his chest and sob again, harder this time.

Seungcheol reaches up to slowly stroke the back of your head, trying to calm you down. “I’m sorry, y/n. I’m so, so sorry.”

He already knew everything was his fault, but this makes it so much worse. People were threatening to kill you because of him? Suddenly, it dawns on him. How much of an absolute dickhead he’s been. For years he’s been pretending to hate you, throwing mean comments at you, picking fights with you, all while you were trying to protect yourself. “Why did you play along?” he asks.

You don’t look up. Instead, you just let out a questioning hum into his chest.

“The rivalry,” he says. “Why did you play along with it if you didn’t really hate me?”

“It’s good for publicity” you joke. There’s the y/n he knows and loves. Loves. He hasn’t thought about you like that in a long time. Now that he knows the truth, he wants you back in his life so bad. But he knows he doesn’t deserve it. 

“Is the guy still threatening you? Is that why you played along?”

You shake your head. “No. I was trying to negotiate for a bodyguard in my McLaren rookie contract and Andrea asked why. I didn’t want to tell him, but I had to. It would’ve gotten out eventually I think, had Andrea not had him arrested.”

“But why y/n? I’m still trying to understand why you didn’t tell me this. Why did you make it seem like you hated me too?”

You finally look up at him again, brave enough to make eye contact once more. “I thought it was too late to tell you. I had already lied to you, ignored you. That’s not the best way to come back into someone’s life.”

“It was for your own safety. I would’ve understood that,” he tells you softly. Your eyes are bloodshot and the area underneath them is puffy. His heart aches. This is all because of him. 

You shake your head again. “I didn’t think like that at the time. And you had already brought the rivalry into the media. Of course I would be mad at you when you were talking shit about me to the press.”

It’s not a guilt trip on purpose, but it still hits him where it hurts. “Ok, y/n. I get it. I’m a dick.”

“That’s not what I’m trying to say,” you mumble, helplessly.

Silence overtakes you both. Despite the circumstances, it’s not an uncomfortable one. Just two people mulling over their thoughts. Eventually, he breaks it with a whisper of “I miss you.” 

You whisper back an “I miss you too.” It’s real and genuine. You don’t say it because you feel like you have to. You say it because you want to. You hope he can pick up on that. 

He does. His forehead comes to rest against yours as his hand strokes your cheek. His eyes flick to your lips and you hold your breath. As his lips find yours, you feel years of tension release. A stray tear runs down your face and he brushes it away with his thumb. He pulls away.

“Do you,” he breathes out, “do you want to try again?” All you can do is nod in response. 

[astroismypassion]

✨PART OF FORTUNE IN SIGNS AND HOUSES SERIES: 4TH HOUSE✨

Credit goes to astrology blog @astroismypassion

ARIES PART OF FORTUNE IN THE 4TH HOUSE

You feel the most abundant when you have Aries and Cancer Sun people in your life. You could make money via starting your own small business from home or take a leadership role, especially in the kitchen, family matters, children, education, history and geography. You may be an excellent tour guide of your local town. You may also find wealth through becoming a coach, personal trainer or someone who suggest meal plan for a specific sport, for example meal plan for runners.

TAURUS PART OF FORTUNE IN THE 4TH HOUSE

You feel the most abundant when you have Taurus and Cancer Sun people in your life. You could make money via real estate, gardening, landscaping, art and craftsmanship. You can sell handmade items, such as pottery, jewelry or home decor. You may also offer gardening services, sell plants or draw plants and sell your drawings online. You could start a home-based catering service, bakery or sell homemade goods at a local market. You might be able to create financial plans for families since you have a knack for helping others to manage their finances.

GEMINI PART OF FORTUNE IN THE 4TH HOUSE

You feel the most abundant when you have Gemini and Cancer Sun people in your life. You could make money via writing articles, blogs, even e-books from home. Especially on platforms like Medium, Substack or starting your own blog from the comfort of your home. You may also offer tutoring services o reven create online courses in subjects you are passionate about (Udemy, Coursera, VIPKid).

CANCER PART OF FORTUNE IN THE 4TH HOUSE

You feel the most abundant when you have Cancer Sun people in your life. You could make money via a home-based business, such as home bakery, daycare or arts and crafts. You could find abundance in life by becoming a life coach, counselor or therapist. You may earn money from a home-cooked meal delivery. You can also each yourself interior design.

LEO PART OF FORTUNE IN THE 4TH HOUSE

You feel the most abundant when you have Leo and Cancer Sun people in your life. You could make money via music, singing, performing from home, tutoring someone in music and teaching them how to play an instrument. You may also post tutorials (for example guitar tutorials) online from the comfort of your home.

VIRGO PART OF FORTUNE IN THE 4TH HOUSE

You feel the most abundant when you have Virgo and Cancer Sun people in your life. You could make money via selling your homemade jams, pies or granola mix. You may also offer healthy student snacks or offer tips on how to make those at home with cheap and easy ingredients. Again, you could feel abundant when starting a podcast or your own local book club or even themed book club.

LIBRA PART OF FORTUNE IN THE 4TH HOUSE

You feel the most abundant when you have Libra and Cancer Sun people in your life. You could make money via designing and selling your own T-shirts, designing logos for other people. You could be good at doing make up for weddings or birthday parties. You have a knack to be an excellent host at your own home. You feel the most abundant when you have balanced family relations and friendships, partnership.

SCORPIO PART OF FORTUNE IN THE 4TH HOUSE

You feel the most abundant when you have Scorpio and Cancer Sun people in your life. You could make money via teaching people how to overcome tough situations in life and helping them find their purpose, hosting a leadership course online or from home. You may also enjoy talking about mental health and psychology.

SAGITTARIUS PART OF FORTUNE IN THE 4TH HOUSE

You feel the most abundant when you have Sagittarius and Cancer Sun people in your life. You could make money via showing tourists your hometown, hosting a culinary course in a foreign language on the local cuisine. You could also find abundance by becoming a local tour guide, even offering virtual tours of your local town.

CAPRICORN PART OF FORTUNE IN THE 4TH HOUSE

You feel the most abundant when you have Capricorn and Cancer Sun people in your life. You could make money via working with your parents, helping other families finding structure and order in the home, organising someone's closet.

AQUARIUS PART OF FORTUNE IN THE 4TH HOUSE

You feel the most abundant when you have Aquarius and Cancer Sun people in your life. You could make money via video gaming from home and streaming. You could also start a home-based business. You feel the wealthiest when you are being progressive, unique and standing out from the community. You may attract wealth by starting a podcast with your close friends, building websites from home or launching your own social media channel, platform.

PISCES PART OF FORTUNE IN THE 4TH HOUSE

You feel the most abundant when you have Pisces and Cancer Sun people in your life. You could make money via taking photos of families or pregnant women. You may also do videos for someone's wedding, anniversary or birthday. You may host themed parties at home for your friends or poetry nights.

Credit goes to astrology blog @astroismypassion

[buggyjuggie]

Hi! Can you write Mk mans x Pokémon trainer reader?

Basically reset somehow got into Earthrealm with not way back to their world and Liu Kang decided to kick them as one of his champions since he saw a potential in them. And when reader explains their world they like “Well yeah we have a Pokémon that possibly can destroy world” and “once I battled against god and mafia when I was ten haha”

──★ ˙ ̟ Random Mk1 men x GN! Pokemon trainer reader

Note: Im so sorry that this took so long to come out my mental health kinda took a nose dive with my creativity and i didn’t want to half ass this so that’s why this ended up being so short I apologise

「 ✦ Havik ✦ 」

* Lets start with just a random man Havik: he LOVES you and your little creatures

* Immediately asks which one is strongest

*Has tried teaching your pokemon about the way of living in chaos and freedom (basically indoctrinated them into his belief)

* Havik absolutely adores hearing stories of your realm, like you mean when you were 10 years old you took down a mafia gang, competed in a tournament and battled with a gang. ALL OF THAT and your fighters these little things. He’s impressed and entertained for hours

* Havik’s favourites are poison, ghost and rock type pokemon

「 ✦ Johnny Cage ✦ 」

* ,, Can i make a movie about these little guys please 🥺“

* Buys them clothes, accessories and dresses them up, they’re like little plushies to him

* Haa definitely bought custom glasses with the first letter of they’re names for all your little friends

* He posts pictures about your pokemon on insta even tough you said to explicitly NOT do it (he just tells people its photoshop

* When you tell him stories of all the wacky stuff that you see in your world he desperately want to go to the point he begs Liu kang to send him to your universe

「 ✦ Liu Kang ✦ 」

* He takes care of timelines and also now your pokemon

* Because he is the god of fire Liu Kang radiates a lot of warmth so when he meditates all your palls lay down next, on or near him

* Liu kang spoils the crap out of your pokemon to the point where they are absolutely attached to him following him all the time, annoying him and and some just bite his legs a sign of love but also attachment

* Ok this ones obvious bcuz hes a fire god he tends to like fire type and dragon type pokemon

* Looks at you with the most concerned expression possible while your just happily smiling and telling stories about how you fought off a mafia

「 ✦ Bi-han ✦ 」

* Goes withouth saying that fighting, ice and flying type pokemon are most interesting to Bihan

* Bihan learns the hard way that you can’t train pokemon like little soldiers and you teach him how to properly train them

* If you and Bihan ever manage to return to your universe he’ll look at you with proud eyes when you win battles

* Tries to apply the same strategy you use when in combat to his own fights or training sessions for the Lin Kuei soldiers

* Don’t even try to explain how certain types are categorised or how some pokemon can defeat other with the most random luck because he’ll just end up with a headache

*. ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

[raceweek]

Drop the podcast bestie! (Please)

it’s the high performance podcast (you have to download their app to get it for free right now but it will be available for free soon on regular platforms) - in case anyone doesn’t want to download the app but wants to know some of the things alex talked about:

- for context he recorded the first part of the podcast initially and talked a lot about his struggles at red bull and what he went through as a teenager and then went back to the podcast hosts and said actually can we do a part two bc i want to talk about how im coping better now

- he says he isolated himself from all of his friends when everything was happening with his mum and he became an introverted person and still carries that introvertedness with him now from going through that time

- alex was told he was promoted to red bull when he went to see helmut in austria to talk about the practicalities of his move to monaco and just as the meeting ended helmut said oh by the way ur in the red bull seat, here’s the number for ur engineer maybe speak to him but also actually u can’t bc the factory is closed for summer but yeah ur going to be announced in about two hours. bye

- he says he didn’t enjoy being a driver in 2020 at all. literally said he was destroyed. he spoke about the pressure and how he deleted his social media due to the incessant mocking but he also felt like even though he had done that he couldn’t avoid it because although he didn’t see it directly he’d just be asked about it on media day every week anyway

- he was asked about what help was offered to him in 2020 when he was struggling and whilst he said the team cared there wasn’t really anything or anyone to help him. alex and his trainer patrick got their own psychologist towards the end of 2020 and then in 2021 when alex was out of the sport he assembled a team of his own who weren’t the most experienced but who he knew cared for him and would fight to the death for him (said he took jacques from red bull to be his manager because he always fought his corner no matter how tough the situation was)

- he was told about being dropped by horner in a meeting at the end of the season but he already knew because it had been posted in the media before they’d even met

- he described 2021 as a really weird time as he needed to boost his stock with red bull and all the other teams but to do that he needed to give as much as he possibly could to improve the car he had just been kicked out of, so when max said at pre season testing that the car was so much more stable it was a strange feeling knowing that that’s what he needed and he wasn’t able to do anything with it

- he compiled a sexy spreadsheet for team principals in the paddock showing that as much as he struggled in 2020 he was on reflection closer to max pace wise than maxs’ current teammate and maxs’ teammate before alex

- when asked to describe where he is now he said he’s happier than he’s ever been. he’s driving better than ever and is mentally in the best headspace he’s ever been in

- he says he comes up with scenarios in his head from the last 4/5 years and as soon as he has a sort of deja vu struggle moment he uses it to show himself he’s overcome that hurdle

- he said the older he gets the more he doesn’t feel the need to write things down the way he used to because he feels more confident in himself

- the best piece of advice he’s ever received is from franz tost who said “alex if there’s one thing you need to learn about formula one it’s don’t give a fuck” and he said he didn’t really understand it until he started struggling and then he realised that he cared too much

- when asked about what advice he would give to teenage alex now he said it’s hard because he isn’t the most confident now and he knows teenage alex wouldn’t listen bc his parents would always try and fill him with confidence so he said he’d try and shake younger him and tell him that it’s true what they’re telling you

[slowestlap]

Bradley Scanes, Max's trainer during 2020-2023 seasons, did an interview with The Red Flags Podcast (22 Jan 2024)

I took one for the team and transcribed the bits I found interesting enough to share:

[12:40] Talking about the first times Brad met Max and how important it is that you click together well:

I think it's the most important. We had a good conversation in that time, I think the decision probably set on the fact that, for half of the time I was there, he was out driving the car. But I was there, talking to his dad, talking to his family. And really got on with Red Bull and really kinda fit into that mold and did for my whole 4 years with him and it was so nice. And I appreciate Max for this, his dad for this and the rest of the family because I felt part of the family the entire time which was really really nice and you know, we'll stay friends.

[24:00] From what I saw, I saw a guy that was elite. He knew where he wanted to go. You could see the drive, you could see the work ethic. The work ethic was tremendous. And for me it was just, I've gotta create the optimal space for him to be him and him to do him.

[27:30] Talking about flexibility and adaptability being the traits that separates greats from the rest:

He's on the grid being interviewed by two or three different tv stations, or something's happening with the car, he gets in the car and drives exactly the same no matter what's going on. And that's for me what I've seen from the kinda good to great.

[28:25] Was it hard to train him this year when he was so far ahead?

No, no. If anything he was more motivated this year than any year before.

[34:55] I feel like you have to be elite at falling asleep. Is Max like "allright time to go to bed" and he's like "okay [snores]"? Can kinda turn on turn off?

Yeah, he's really good at that.

[48:50] On staying motivated to win:

The mindset to keep winning is there. We love winning and it's what we get out of bed for, it's what we do our work for. We want to win no matter what it is. We going to Monza, going to Belgium, we wanna win that race. We want to win every single race and if the championship comes in the end the championship comes in the end. That's the mentality he has. […] The first one was motivated by winning the first championship, the second one was motivated by seeing off Ferrari and making sure we got the second (wdc) and that we're here to stay. And then the third one we were motivated by winning every single race and setting every single record that we could.

[1:14:55] Talking about other drivers posting tough work out videos while Max posted a lighter work out:

That's the thing actually, it's a conversation we've had before because we have the markers where we need to get to. How you get there doesn't really matter. We managed to do it in the most time efficient way, in the most enjoyable way for Max and how it doesn't impact on the other stuff as much. […] He doesn't like working out, everybody knows that. But when he's in the session he gets after it. It's just shifting that mindset, he might not want to do it ever again but there's not too much encouragement needed actually in session which is always nice. It's nice to work that way.

[1:16:10] If Max pisses you off what exercise are you doing to punish him? What's his least favorite?

Single-leg squats or planks.

[1:17:35] How long can Max plank for?

Decent amount of time. I don't actually remember but we must have hit like 4-5 minutes in pre-season test and a bit longer come summer break.

[billybob598]

No Idea Who They're Dealing With (Trinity Rodman x Reader)

Ummm, it's like 1am and I just banged out like 2k words?!?!? This was requested by a lovely anon (hope this is kinda what you wanted). I'm gonna go have a nighttime snack real quick so, byeeee. As always, any feedback good or bad welcome. Enjoy!

Word Count: 2k (actually it's like 1987 but that's basically 2k so fuck it)

You hated Trinity Rodman. With a passion. She was always getting the best of you, no matter how hard you tried she always seemed to be one step ahead. The rivalry between the two of you went back to your U-18 days. You played for Canada during the U-18 World Cup, in that tournament you had really shone, putting yourself at the top of the list for up-and-coming Canadian soccer players. While you had done well, Trinity had done even better. You never played against the USA in that tournament, but she beat you out for the Golden Boot and the Player of the Tournament award. 

The next time your rivalry was rekindled was in the U-20 CONCACAF Championships. Both Canada and the US came top of their groups, respectively. In the semi-finals, the two teams faced off. It was a pretty physical game. Tackles were flying in left and right. Numerous cards were given out. Throughout the match, you and Trinity had been at each other’s throats. It started with just some shoving. Then, it escalated to pulling on each other’s jerseys. The tackles kept getting dirtier and dirtier. It didn’t help that Canada was 2-0 down. At one point, you were both going for the ball, you thought you had definitely beat her to it when you felt a cleat connect with your ankle. You screamed out. Toppling to the ground while clutching your ankle, you knew it was bad. Like, tournament ending bad. With your face buried in the grass, you can hear loud voices, presumably your teammates who had come to defend you. The whistle was being repeatedly blown, but all you could focus on was the immense pain shooting through your leg. 

Trinity was horrified. She hadn’t meant for that to happen. Of course, she was getting frustrated with the physical battle between you. But she really hadn’t meant to hurt you. She had never seen you in so much pain. Your reputation preceded you, everyone knew that you were tough and that if you went down something must be seriously wrong. A number of your teammates came to your aid. They shoved Trinity and got all up in her face. She tuned all of them out, though, preferring to watch the trainers as they started feeling your ankle. When you were on your feet and limping off the field, she wanted to go over and apologize, but one of her teammates dragged her away before she could. 

You had ruptured your Achilles tendon. It took almost six months before you stepped on a soccer pitch again. While Trinity was off becoming a star in the NWSL, you were sitting in physio, fuming. It was mentally and physically exhausting to return to full strength. And when you finally returned you tore it up. At UCLA you established yourself as one of the best players in college soccer. Bev Priestmann was impressed enough to give you a call-up for your first-ever senior national team camp in 2021.

Now, heading into the 2023 SheBelieves Cup you’ve become a regular on the national team. You had played against Trinity a couple of times, but you had tried your best to just ignore her presence altogether. It most certainly confused Trinity. She thought you would be pissed at her and that you would hold a grudge forever. You hadn’t. Actually, it was like Trinity didn’t even exist anymore in your world. Within the Canada camp, there was a lot of things going on. The players, yourself included, were in a dispute with Canada Soccer. Everyone had decided to wear their practice shirts inside out to protest, among other things. Heading into the opening match against the USA, the battle between players and federation was anyone was talking about. Janine and Christine had done an interview with TSN, you hadn’t even spoken publicly about the job action, other than putting the players’ statement on your Instagram. Yet, you were on the receiving end of all the blame coming from Canada Soccer. There had been multiple interviews and statements by Canada Soccer officials and they all stuck to the same narrative, your arrival in the past year or two had changed the mindset within the team. You were the root of this. If it had not been for you, everyone would have been happy still, and the team would not be asking for something that was impossible. You chose to handle this with class, not wanting to stir the pot anymore, you did not respond to those comments. 

The USA had watched all of this happen in complete shock. First of all, the fact that a job action had to be put in motion in the first place. Considering you guys were Olympic champions everyone thought you would have earned a little more respect from your federation. Second, you specifically were enduring most of the public bashing. It was absolutely insane for Canada Soccer to put this all on one player, especially you. This entire fiasco made Trinity’s blood boil. No way they thought they could actually get away with blaming you. When asked by the Canadian team if they would join in making a pre-match protest, they of course agreed.

Soon enough, the two teams were standing in the tunnel, preparing to step out on the pitch. There had been a few hugs given out among the different players. Rapinoe had said some encouraging words to you as she passed by. You didn’t realize how much you needed to hear them until you started to tear up. As the US lines up alongside you, you try your best to not let anyone see the emotion overcoming you. All of a sudden, you feel a hand land on your shoulder. Looking over, you’re surprised to see Trinity Rodman giving you a warm smile.

“Hey, you’re doing a really good job, don’t let them get to you,” Trinity says softly to you. You wipe at your eyes before mumbling out a quick “thanks.” She removes her hand and you immediately miss the contact. Before you can say anything more to her, the refs have started to move forward, with the teams following close behind. The cameras start to click rapidly as Canada’s national team appears wearing the purple “Enough is Enough” shirts. After the anthems, the two teams form a heart around the centre circle. You end up standing beside Trinity. The taller woman’s hand lands on the small of your back, sending shivers up your spine. She notices this and smirks at you. 

That entire game, Canada looks flat. You guys looked like a team that was mentally exhausted, which you were. It was only through pure determination that you were able to put your name on the score sheet. The game finished as a 2-1 US win, it probably should have been more.

When the game ends, you and the rest of the team refuse to do any media and head straight back to the locker rooms. Trinity ends up at the ESPN panel, standing alongside a man she doesn’t recognize and the hosts. It’s only when the hosts introduce the man as the Vice President of Canada Soccer that she realizes what’s going to happen. This was definitely set up by Canada Soccer to continue putting down the players. The hosts ask Trinity a few questions about the match before they address the elephant in the room. For a bit, Trinity thinks that maybe she was wrong. Maybe the vice president wasn’t here to blame the players, maybe he was just here to try to appease the public or something. He wasn’t saying anything too controversial, mostly trying his best to deflect, saying he can’t comment and things like that. For a few minutes, everything is going okay. Until it isn’t.

“Obviously, we only want our women’s teams to thrive. They have shown just how world-class they can be playing against some tough opponents. We just think that some of the demands they’re making are unreasonable. It’s possible that Y/N Y/L/N has gotten some far-reaching goals inside of her teammate's heads. Before, the team was making reasonable demands and we were happy to negotiate with them,” the vice president says with such contempt that Trinity doesn’t know how such an asshole can be elected for anything. 

“Interesting…” ESPN’s host slowly starts to say before Trinity jumps in.

“Or maybe, you guys have just been taking the entire team for push-overs and they, including Y/N, have finally realized their worth. That they are deserving of more than just whatever you have left in the bank account. Also, if you’re going to start publicly bashing Y/N, then you better know that she’s not going to back down without a fight and that she is going to come at you guys with everything she has. You have no fucking idea who you’re dealing with.”

This leaves everyone on the panel in a little bit of shock. Trinity decides that she doesn’t feel like being interviewed anymore. She gives the mic back and then walks off, not having the slightest clue about why she did that. As she gets closer to the US locker room, she stops in her tracks when she hears a voice.

“What the hell did you do that for?” She takes a deep breath before turning around to be met with your beautiful face.

“Uhh, I don’t know,” she stutters out.

“Trinity, you just blew up at a Canada Soccer official and swore on national television. You must know why.” There’s something about how her name sounds coming off your tongue that drives Trinity crazy. 

“Y/N…” she starts as she takes a step towards you. You can feel a blush creeping up your neck as the space between the two of you closes.

“Yeah?” Your voice comes out small and it only encourages Trinity. She takes another step closer, at this point you’re chests are close to touching. Trinity is looking down at you with a smirk that makes your knees weak. It doesn’t help that she’s got probably five inches on you so, you feel incredibly small this close to her.

“I’ve never really hated you, y’know?” Her voice is so smooth, it makes your stomach do flips.

“Oh yeah?” You say not daring to take your eyes off of hers. She starts to lean in slowly. 

“Yeah,” she whispers against your lips before connecting them. Her hands go to your waist, pulling you as close as possible to her. Your fingers find their way into her hair, giving it a light tug. Her lips were like nothing you’ve ever experienced before. They were soft and perfect and moved perfectly against yours. You couldn’t believe what was happening, not too long ago you swore you hated her, but now, she was too good of a kisser to even think about hating her. Soon, you both pull away. She leans her forehead against yours.

“When do you guys leave for the next game?” The American asks quietly.

“I think two days from now,” you reply, “why?”

“Do you want to go on a date with me, say tomorrow?” You can’t help the grin that takes over your face.

“Thought you’d never ask.” You kiss her one last time before entangling your fingers with hers. “I’m not sure you have any idea who you’re dealing with, though,” you joke. Trinity just laughs.

“Trust me, I know exactly who I’m dealing with,” she says with a chuckle. You smile one last time at her before moving to head back to your own locker room. But, she pulls you back and presses a firm kiss on your forehead, then she decides you are free to go. 

When you were named to the World Cup roster, the first person you called was your girlfriend.

“The world has no idea who they’re dealing with, babe.”

[prismaticpichu]

Because you’ve gotten me in the mood—

If the ff7 crew were pokemon gym leaders, which types do you think they’d be?

Can be as few or many of them as you’d like, and whichever ones you’d like! So many good options

Ooooooooooooooooh!!! I LOVE THIS!!!!! 💖💖💖 Ty Forest!! ✨

~

Cloud - Tempted to say flying for the puns dhdhdh, but I’m leaning more toward Rock!! Heavy hitters, extremely sturdy physical defense, but a litttleeee lacking on the Special side (referring to Cloud’a wobbly mental health throughout the early-to-mid game). However!! Even with their lacking special stats, they are NOT easy to mold, and not easy to bend into puppets >:3c It’s also super effective against fire- hallelujah!!

Tifa - Fighting for sure!! Martial art specialist, resilient spirit, and doesn’t even need any special weapons to shatter your shins!!

Aerith - For her mythical Cetra nature, think I have to go with Fairy!! Very strong special attackers that are super effective against Dark (“evil” type in Japan!), buuuutttt is weak to the cold steel of Masamune. I’m so sorry lmaooooo

Barret - Hmmm… a bit tricky!! Think I’m gonna ultimately shoot for Steel on this one. Guy’s team would definitely be loaded with bullet-esque moves!!! (In addition to being obviously tough lol, with an unbreakable protectiveness for Marlene!!)

Vincent - I’m liking the idea of ghost for Vince!! :3c Lots of spoopy fellas to match that vampiric, un-aging vibe!! He also stars in a game entitled Dirge of Cerberus lmaooo, which is a word usually associating with grieving/macabre things of the like!

Cid - Flying, no question!!! He’s gonna soar to space just you wait! ✨

Yuffie - Give her bug, hehe!! Will snatch your materia like a little spider without you even noticing! (And mayyyybeee for bugging Zack with those spam emails in CC!)

Nanaki - Wouldn’t engage in the battling of intelligent creatures x3 Moving on!!

Hojo - BLEH! Poison. Icky and vile and taints the lives of everyone around him. Prolly one of those trainers who treats their Pokémon like garbage -_-

Evil!Sephiroth - Undoubtedly Dark. Evil to the core! Will spam the HELL out of status conditions, specifically confusion and burn. Weak to Aerith’s Fairy & the others’ fighting, but dominates Vincent x3 Has an even match-up with Cloud!

Sane!Sephiroth - Another fighting specialist!!! Extremely skilled at the art of battling, pouring hours of meticulous effort into honing his skills and strategy. Also weak to the winged attacks of Flying types.

Genesis - This, boy, is on FIREEEEE!!! Gotta give him a mon with burning jealousy lol!!

Angeal - Steel as well!! More of a defensive wall than anything, guy is arguably the weakest of the trio in terms of physical combat and speed. He is disadvantaged against both Gen & Seph’s teams!!

Zack - Gonna give the pup dragon!! >:3c Simply for the sake of being legendary. Nothing more.

Cadet!Cloud - Normal specialist <33 Young and untainted at this time!

[pokemonshelterstories]

Have you had any expenses with magmortar? I've heard they can be tough to train or even interact with but they seem simple enough? I want to make sure I have all the info right before I make any mistakes

not personally, but there's a reason for that. they're incredibly difficult pokemon to correctly and safely provide for- definitely not a pokemon i would label as simple to care for.

magmortar are extremist pokemon whose natural habitat is active volcanoes and who maintain such a high internal temperature that their flame sack is more like a magma chamber. you can get burned just on their breath. because they're adapted to such a hot environment, they cannot live in conditions that are sustainable for a human being. while they can briefly handle moderate temperatures, keeping them long-term in an environment less than 90°C will lead to both physical and mental stress.

they're not pokemon i'd ever recommend keeping. outside of a couple of extremely dedicated trainers who battle at a competitive level, the only other times i've seen appropriate magmortar care are in research labs situated near active volcanoes and at metal processing plants, where working magmortar help maintain the temperatures needed to smelt ore.

[imagine-knowing-a-name]

you are expendable

Summary: adjusting to a life away from the red room is tough, and letting go of the mentality they drilled into you is even tougher. As much as Yelena tries to protect you, you'll always believe that you are expendable, and she is not.

Word Count: 3783 Pairing: Yelena Belova & Reader Warnings: self-sacrificial R, near-death injuries, poor self worth/mental health issues Requests (combined): "Yelena x best!friend reader who struggles with self worth, gets hurt protecting Yelena?" "Hi! Can you do a story where Yelena has taken reader in as a sibling figure, and reader is constantly trying to “payback” yelena like through small things and more bigger things like being reckless on mission so yelena doesn’t get hurt; and Yelena gets really worried one time and finds out why R is doing it, and assures reader that they don’t need to do that and more fluff at end if ok?"

A/N: italics are flashbacks, Russian is google translated. Honestly this was a fun one to write so I hope you enjoy!

»»————-　★　————-««

2016

Yelena holds the door open, allowing you to shuffle in behind her, before she motions towards the sofa. You immediately move to follow the unspoken command, perching yourself at the very edge and pressing your body into the armrest as if you could become part of it. The blonde, meanwhile, takes a central seat on the opposite chair. She rests her elbows on her knees and leans forward, with her chin resting on intertwined fingers. Her brows are minutely knitted and her gaze pounces on any movement you make – you realise she’s analysing you.

Well, two can play at that game.

In an instant, you come away from the armrest and relax your back, spreading yourself into a wider stance… everything you can do to level your authority, even in the older Widow’s own apartment.

“Y/N, don’t do that,” she scoffs before changing her position again; she’s leaning back now with her arms crossed over her chest, though her attention to you remains as analytical as ever.

“I’m just sitting.”

“Widow’s don’t just sit.”

“Then what do you want me to not do?”

“Don’t be a Widow.”

“I am a Widow.”

“I know. Don’t be.”

You huff, now unintentionally copying her pose once again when you cross your arms and sulkily lean back into the cushions. “You are very confusing, Yelena, how should I not be what I was raised to be? What you trained me to be.”

Yelena winces a little at the reminder. Ten years older than you, the woman now sitting across from you had been your assigned trainer for eleven years in the Red Room, from your arrival at age six and right up until last month, when she’d broken free of the chemical control and escaped into the real world. Everything you knew about espionage and violence, everything you hated to be, came from her teachings, and you’d been just about ready to pass it on to your own mentees when she came and freed you from the Red Room’s control.

What they forced her to do to you would always be a sore spot for Yelena, but, regardless, she schools her expression back to neutral, then smiles. You eye her suspiciously.

“Why are you smiling?”

“You ask how not to be a Widow? You are already doing it; do you think Dreykov would approve of that stance?”

Yelena laughs as you quickly scramble back to the perfect pose she’d once drilled into you. “Dreykov is not going to punish you, he is dead. At least, I think he is dead,” she frowns, “though he has escaped being blown up once before, so you can never really know. Either way, he must be very badly injured and probably also dead, so you can relax.”

When you don’t shift, Yelena stands up and takes a seat beside you. “You’re free, Y/N. They can’t control us anymore. Our lives are our own and, from now on, they always will be.”

She finally closes the gap between you two when she sees tears forming in your eyes, pulling you close but leaving a loose arm on your shoulder – giving you the opportunity to escape her grasp should you want. You don’t. Instead, you press yourself further into her side and let the tears flow.

“Stay here with me?” 

With the careful way she suggests it, you can tell it’s something she’s been dwelling on for a while, rather than an impulsive response to your show of emotions. “We’re both new to the world, we can work it out together, if you’d like that? I’ll keep you safe, I promise. You can just be 17.”

You don’t respond instantly, already growing quite comfortable with being tucked in Yelena’s arms, but when you do nod, Yelena notices; she smiles and pulls you a little closer.

»»————-　★　————-««

2005

“Yelena?”

“Да” (Yes)

“Это ваше. Поддерживайте его в живых.” (This one is yours. Keep it alive.)

You’re shoved harshly in the direction of the young blonde. The guard who pushed you laughs as you stumble, but Yelena catches you and keeps you on your feet. You try to pull yourself closer to her side, latching on to the first show of kindness you’ve had in weeks, but the teen prises you off of her and positions you behind her back – she doesn’t look at you, only staring down the guards until they leave, before she grabs your arm and leads you into a small adjoining room. She slams the door and you startle, your vision clouding with tears as you realise things aren’t going to go back to normal, that this woman won’t be your saviour.

“Вы говорите по-русски?” (Do you speak Russian?) she asks; it’s not harsh, but it’s not as soft as your mother’s tone either. The tears begin to flow.

“English?” she tries again, this time you nod.

“I spoke only English at your age,” the girl says, “you must learn Russian though; I will help, but the trainers will perfect it.”

You don’t reply and eventually the older girl sighs; she takes a step forward, but still lingers awkwardly across the room from you, not wanting to get too close. “I am Yelena. What is your name?”

“Y/N.”

“I’m going to be your mentor, Y/N; do you want to learn new things?”

You’re not sure what to make of Yelena, but, at 6, there’s a lot of things you want to know, so you nod shyly, then ask your first question, “what is going to happen to me?”

Yelena notices the shake in your voice, and she’s been an assassin long enough to infer what you must have seen, what instances brought you to her. She comes a step closer again and purposefully softens her voice, “you’re going to stay here; you and I, we are going to be a team from now, okay? We’ll do some training and that will keep you safe. I’m going to try to keep you safe.”

“Do you pinky promise?”

The older girl hesitates, staring down at your extended finger as if it were a gun pointed in her direction – but at least she’d know how to handle that. The longer your hand hovers, extended, the more Yelena worries, knowing this isn’t a promise she can make in full confidence, but she can’t disappoint you either.

She wraps her own pinky around yours and shakes on it, “I promise,” she says at last, “I’m going to keep you safe. I just need you to listen to everything I say.”

»»————-　★　————-««

The adjustment period is hard – certainly harder than either you or Yelena expected. Contrary to your original expectations, Yelena doesn’t give up the assassin lifestyle, and she doesn’t force you to either; it’s all the two of you have known, and you’re too ingrained in it to manage a completely clean break. 

For one, neither of you have birth certificates or any form of ID at all, and you find out very quickly how necessary those are. Yelena puts her contacts to good use and obtains birth certificates and American passports for the both of you; the legalities are dubious, but she’s now officially your older sister, which gives her guardianship status over you – because apparently a 17 year old needs that in the real world, as if you don’t have several lifetimes of maturity and experience under your belt already.

You’re grateful for all the steps Yelena has taken to look after you: from signing you up to a boxing club for the familiarity of training, to telling Valentina that the two of you could only be employed as a pair, ensuring she’d be there to protect you even on missions. You want to repay her for everything she’s done for you, but you’re still learning the limits of the real world – your resources were practically limitless in the Red Room if it completed the mission, but that is certainly not the case anymore. So, instead, you’re forced to turn to the internet for adequate methods of thanking your lifelong friend.

You start small: flowers, household chores, cooking… anything you can find, but most end up in chaos. Flowers gave you hay fever, it turns out; your meals have to be scraped out of the pans and taste worse that the Red Room canteen; and, much to your annoyance, Yelena refuses to let you do all the chores, immediately stopping you and taking over for ‘her turn’ if you'd done it the night before, which only gave you more to thank her for.

Eventually, you conclude that if you want to thank Yelena properly then you should stick to what you know: murder, maiming, and incredible violence… though she tries to discourage that now, so you shift to simply risking yourself, doing everything you can on missions to keep Yelena safe.

It works the first few times, you get a few bruises and scrapes, but that's nothing unexpected in your line of work and, more importantly, Yelena comes out unscathed. She seems ignorant to the actions you're taking, which is how you aim to keep it; you know she wouldn't approve of you putting yourself at risk just to keep her safe, but that's how the Red Room taught you to perform and, after everything she's done for you, it's what you're willing to do to thank her.

»»————-　★　————-««

2013

“You ready, Y/N?” Yelena smiles. The two of you are in matching bodysuits, sitting in the back of a jet destined for Manchester, England. You nod and double check the various weaponry attached to you.

Yelena reaches behind her, pulling out a map which you’ve memorised by now, and lays it on the table between you. “There’s two floors to this facility,” she recaps, “they’re developing weapons and we’ve been assigned to retrieve blueprints for all of them. Where do we find them?”

You point quickly to the corridor of offices. “Locked filing cabinet in office 2, if intelligence is to be trusted.”

“And which route will we take?”

“From the bus stop, into the woods within the perimeter. The back entrance will have only one guard between 0130 and 0200, giving us a window to enter. This corridor here,” you point, “has a guard, so we must pass while their back is turned. Stairs are unguarded. Two rights and we’ll be at the offices. There’s a ladder to the roof and an escape route from there, which is how we’ll get out.”

“Good. You have learnt it well. The Red Room demands perfection, but you are going to make them proud.”

Hours later, you aren’t so sure. You sit by her hospital bed, knee bouncing with worry as the medics operate on her; the steady beeping of her vitals acts as your only comfort, but you know first-hand that it could switch at any second. 

Behind you, a door opens and closes, causing a noticeable shift in the atmosphere of the room. The medics stand taller, the guards lower their gaze, and you immediately stop your movements, knowing exactly who has walked in. You stand to attention and turn to face the tall, boney woman in front of you, though you bow your head in respect just as the guards did.

“A word, Y/N, outside,” Madame B instructs. She doesn’t wait for a response – she knows you wouldn’t dare give her one – she simply turns on her heel and has you follow her back out of the door like a puppy on a leash.

“Explain exactly what happened. And I don’t want excuses.”

“We were fighting the guards for some time, there were far more than Yelena and I had expected–”

“I said no excuses.”

“Sorry Madame. We left one of them for too long and he was able to take a shot while my back was turned – it would have hit my head, but Yelena noticed and stepped in between, receiving the bullet just to the left of her heart, puncturing her lung. I brought her to medics quickly-”

“I don’t need to hear the rest,” the woman cuts in. “Yelena is one of our best Widows, whereas you… you are expendable, Y/N, and I expect you to know it. Until you train yourself to be better than Yelena, then it is your responsibility to put your body on the line to keep her safe, no matter the cost to you. Is that understood?”

“Yes, Madame.”

“You will go to the training room immediately. If you think your life is worth more than Yelena’s, then we will put that to the test – incapacitate the five Widows in there without taking a hit, and you will be excused from punishment this time.”

The task is impossible, you know that, you may defeat the others, but not without one of them landing a blow, and once they do that, you will be beaten to within an inch of your life for failing the task. Regardless, you nod towards Madame B and march to the training room with your head held high; you deserve the punishment, you know that too. You are expendable, Yelena is not. 

All five girls jump at you. This is what you deserve.

»»————-　★　————-««

2017

You were always aware that something would eventually go wrong, each mission where you threw yourself recklessly into danger was only testing your luck. You accepted the risk, but when it actually happens, well… you hadn't prepared for the consequences.

After four months of obtaining only minor injuries, you and Yelena are on another mission in Upstate New York, dressed to the nines at some CEO’s mansion. You don't care to remember his name since, if all goes to plan, he'll be dead at the end of the night anyway.

The party is already buzzing when the two of you walk in and, after a quick scout of the area together, the two of you separate and mingle with the guests, establishing your presence in the main hall until there's an opportunity to corner the host away from spectators.

It's going well, you think, until angry yells sound out from the other side of the room, loud enough to drown out the music. Guests look up curiously, just as you do, until you see Yelena thrown onto the stage. A handful of bodyguards emerge from the crowd to surround her, all readying their weapons in her direction.

You don't think, you just barrel through the gawking crowds to tackle your mentor out of the firing line. Yelena is back on her feet in an instant and you try to do the same, but a sharp pain keeps you down. The crowds are screaming now, and hopefully fleeing as you're overwhelmed by a chorus of gunshots. 

You counted 7 guards before. They are no problem for Yelena to take down alone, but you don't allow for that. Ignoring the excruciating pain as you move and pretending you don't notice that your shirt is soaked in blood, you roll yourself onto your back, reaching for your holster and taking out the last three guards in rapid succession. Their attention was focused on Yelena, making it easy for you to do.

In a now empty hall, Yelena finally releases the breath she's been holding and looks around to congratulate you, until she sees you right where she left you, lying flat on the stage.

“Y/N!” 

Her face interrupts your view of the ceiling and you yelp when you feel her hand clamp over your ribs. “I know, I know,” she whispers, face filled with worry as her dialtone begins.

“Natasha?” she says when the person answers at last, “I need you, please, we need medics at my location. I don’t know, the best the Avengers have got. You have good ones, right?”

The world seems to fade at the edges and you relax into your tired state. But then Yelena is snapping her fingers in front of you and her tear-stained face comes back into focus.

“Stay awake for me please, Y/N.”

“Natasha, hurry,” she sobs once again.

You can't help it; everything fades to black.

»»————-　★　————-««

The view when you next wake up is a complete shift to the dark but extravagant mansion you'd fallen asleep in. Everything is blinding white and purely functional; you're not unfamiliar with the set-up, but the location is new, you think. After visiting so many, the hospitals begin to blend together.

“Y/N,” someone beside you gasps, and you mentally scold yourself for not checking you were alone before you opened your eyes. Madame B will punish you for that.

No, Madame B is gone. It is only Yelena now, and she doesn't punish you anymore.

You shrink away all the same when Yelena comes into view, knowing you are the cause of her red-rimmed eyes and the dark bags underneath.

“You almost died, Y/N!” she shouts, and tears prick at your own eyes. You didn't want to disappoint her, just protect her. “I've noticed it for months but I didn't bring it up because I thought you knew better than to risk yourself like this! Missions are not the place to be reckless, what were you-”

She stalls suddenly. Your eyelids, which were previously squeezed shut, open slowly, cautiously and carefully checking for Yelena's reaction. Her face softens when you catch her eye and suddenly she's rushing forward and trapping you in a hug.

“I'm sorry, I shouldn't yell, I'm sorry. I just want to protect you, always, and seeing you like this… it's…”

She sighs, and you interrupt.

“No, I'm sorry, Yelena. This wasn't meant to stress you out or have you worrying about me. I wanted to keep you safe, you know, like you always used to do for me. And after you freed me from the serum and then everything you did to look after me afterwards, I had to find a way to thank you. And I tried all the things Google said like cooking and gifts and everything! but they didn't work, so I thought that maybe keeping you safe would be enough to express my gratitude and make us equal, even if I got hurt in the process.”

“Oh, Y/N,” the older Widow sighs again, a teary smile overtaking her face. “I know it's hard, but we're not in the Red Room anymore; not every interaction is transactional, and not every mission has to have an expendable agent. In fact, none of our missions will have an expendable agent – it's you and me as equals, alright? Both of us are surviving them and I won't have any other outcomes.”

You nod and she continues.

“You're my best friend, Y/N, and my little sister in every way but blood; I'd have done – and I still would – anything to protect you in the Red Room, but that's not how it has to work anymore. And as for looking after you goes, it's my pleasure to do it; it's not something you need to pay me back for because just getting to spend time with you and have you around is all I could ask for. Just get through this, Y/N, get out of this ward and come home, and that will be the only thing you ever need to do for me.”

»»————-　★　————-««

You're still weak, so Yelena has her arms around you and your body is pressed into her side, but you're walking, forward and forward until you cross the threshold. 

You're home.

A few weeks longer and you're back on your feet without assistance, standing next to Yelena in the kitchen as she teaches you to cook – starting easy with some basic pancakes after you said you had a craving for them in the hospital.

“Keep an eye on the pan,” Yelena instructs as her phone starts to ring in the other room, “flip it in 30 seconds if I'm still gone.”

She walks out. You set down your knife and the strawberries you had skillfully been cutting to stare directly at the pan, mentally counting down exactly from 30.

“I don't want a mission, Valentina,” you hear Yelena say from the living room. You don't let it distract you.

“Y/N is grounded from missions until they're back at full health, and I'm not going without them. I told you before, we work as a pair. That's non negotiable.”

You're flipping the pancake when Yelena walks back in, using the spatula instead of risking a pan flip. The older woman scoffs and gently nudges you out of the way so that she can take the pan back.

“Spatulas are for wimps,” she claims confidently, “let me show you some real skill.”

Both of you take a step back: you towards the door, and her towards the centre of the room, before she flicks the pan with her wrist. The pancake goes flying high into the sky, hits the ceiling, then falls unceremoniously back down to splat on the floor.

You both stare at it in silence.

“This is why I used a spatula,” you say at last.

“Maybe we should get a dog.”

“Where did that come from?”

“Well then it could eat the floor pancake.”

“Or we could just pick it up.”

“Yes, go on then,” she grins, moving forward to put the pan back on the heat and pouring more batter into it.

“Oh I would but, you know, I'm injured,” you say with false disappointment, “from when I saved your life, remember? So I probably shouldn't bend to pick it up.”

“You are a nuisance, child,” Yelena grumbles under her breath when she goes to pick the pancake up. You just grin… until the floor pancake is thrown directly at your face. You yelp and quickly dodge it; it smacks against the fridge this time so you catch it and finally put it with the food waste.

Eventually, a stack of successfully flipped pancakes fill the plate, enough for you and Yelena to enjoy your fill. Throughout the meal, you forget all about your squabble in the kitchen, and you believe Yelena had too, so when she smiles and turns to you, saying “you wanted to pay me back for the hospitality, right?” you nod earnestly.

“Then I think you can do the dishes for us both!” she continues, handing her empty plate to you before relaxing further into the couch. With a flick of her wrist, but a beaming smile on her face, she shoos you away.

“Because a gunshot and bleeding out for you isn’t enough,” you huff with a roll of your eyes, playfully kicking Yelena’s leg as you stand. “Some people are never satisfied.”

»»————-　★　————-««

General Taglist: @canvascoloredin @fxckmiup @wizardofstories

[rottenraccoons]

Ok! In a Pokemon Au of Obscura, what would be the main 3 Pokemon the LIs would use on their team? Who would most likely be a Gym Leader or a Master?

(Bless you for this question and for putting this idea into my head, nonnie. I, Tobi, am a big old pokémon nerd and if it weren't for time constraints, I would create full competitive spreads for each and every LI) Francesco I think Fran could fill different kinds of roles in this universe, either as a rival or an easy-going breeder type of trainer. His focus would be on smaller pokémon that he would slowly evolve over time without a rush. His team would look something like this: - Togepi (eventually evolves into Togekiss) - Yamask - Pawmi (- He might pick up a Drampa on the way, too)

Keir Keir's team and mentality is heavily focused on community, so I think he'd make for a great gym leader. He'd have a preference for hard-working, tough pokémon, leaning towards normal and fighting types. His team would look somewhat like this: - Conkeldurr - Hisuian Decidueye - Kangaskhan

Oleander A master of dark types! Oleander would be a trainer that comes and goes as he pleases, without taking sides. He's probably the most likely trainer to become a member of the elite 4. I imagine he'd sometimes disappear off somewhere, though. Some of his team picks: - Sableye - Liepard - Drapion

Cirrus I think he'd be more of a high-level admin of one of the enemy teams, to be honest 🙈 I imagine he'd be a pretty skilled trainer with a lot of patience, someone who wouldn't shy away from traditionally harder to raise pokémon. Part of his team might look like this: - Milotic - Hydreigon - Steelix (- Cresselia, if legendaries are allowed)

[wannabanauthor]

Based on @kirkaut ‘s post

I wrote a little unedited snippet for BuckTommy. Hopefully I’ll be able to complete it before Season 8, if I remember:

Buck’s mouth goes dry as he’s introduced to this mountain of a man who happens to be the same height as him.

(Insert Tommy description here)

“Hey, newbie, I’m Tommy Kinnard, your trainer,” the mountain speaks in a deep voice that could drop Batman’s panties.

His neutral facial expression makes him look even hotter.

Hotter? What?! No!

“Hey, I’m Evan Buckley. Most people call me ‘Buck’,” Buck replies and shakes Tommy’s hand. He’s entranced by the man’s blue eyes that he shakes for longer than he intended.

Tommy pulls his hand away with a slight smile. “Come on, let me show you around, Evan, and introduce you to everyone. Oh, do you mind if I call you ‘Evan’?”

You can call me whatever you want, Buck thinks. “That’s fine.”

With every step Tommy takes, Buck can see every muscle on the man’s body clearly defined. He makes a mental note to ask him about his workout routine. Buck wouldn’t mind adding more muscle to his own physique.

In more ways than one, his subconscious whispers softly softly that he barely hears it.

His eyes glance down by chance, and he definitely needs to know Tommy’s workout routine because his ass looks better than the famous marble sculptures in Italy.

The low timber of Tommy’s voice washes over Buck like something he can’t describe. He likes listening to the man talk and is glad that he can multitask so he’s not missing out on the information Tommy gives him.

He’s thankful for familiar sight of a red fire truck, and Tommy goes into explaining all its details and features.

“These can weigh up to 35 tons,” Tommy continues as if reciting a speech from memory. He looks so focused and serious, and Buck can’t help but tease him a bit.

“You look like you could bench that easily,” Buck says while his eyes sweep over the man’s large frame.

Tommy pauses for a moment and raises an eyebrow before continuing to list everything they keep inside the truck.

Tough crowd, Buck thinks.

Once the tour and introductions are over, Tommy shows him the locker room and where his assigned locker is.

“Look, kid, you’re young and new here, so let me give you some advice: This job is serious so you need to treat it seriously. However, leave some room for levity or the heaviness of what we deal with everyday will consume you. Find the right balance for you, but for now, you’re on probation, so you need to be on your best behavior, or else you’re out of here,” Tommy says as Buck puts his stuff in his locker.

Buck nods along then turns to face Tommy. “Sir, yes, sir,” he says with a mock salute.

Tommy crosses his arms and frowns. “I used to be in the army.”

Buck drops his hand with a look of horror on his face. “Great way to start a new job,” he murmurs.

“You did it wrong,” Tommy points out. “You’re supposed to make two fists and place one on your chest and the other on your back.”

It takes seconds before it clicks in Buck’s brain, and he looks to up to see Tommy grinning at him.

Buck smiles back at him, his pearly white teeth showing. “Big anime fan?”

“Of course,” Tommy says with a big smile that briefly makes the sun illuminate his presence, or at least that’s what happens in Buck’s head.

[safetycar-restart]

Just sub!charles because why not

But I just love to imagine Charles coming home after a say of tough pre season training. Christmas is over, so this boy is back working overtime getting fit.

Just he's comes home for comfort knowing the day after he is going to do it all over again, but just to have a few hours of bliss <3

I love this!! I hope every accepts this soft, fluffy sub!Charles ask as an apology for the angsty ask I posted just before this.

So I think Charles actually really enjoys the few weeks of nonstop training before the season begins? Because for those few weeks, all he does is exercise and train and work on the sim and then come home to you. That's it, that's his entire life and it's always exactly what he needs to get into the right state both mentally and physically for the upcoming season.

Every morning, he wakes up in bed with you and he gets kisses and cuddles and you tell him exactly what he will be doing that day. His trainers and assistants always tell you, and then you tell him because he absolutely loves not knowing what his plans for that day are until you tell him.

And then because you're the one telling him, following the plan is like following your orders? Which means he's being a good boy!

After he gets his cuddles and hears his plan for the day, he gets to have breakfast with you. It's always a breakfast on his diet plan, and he gets it all like a good boy and then gets to share a shower with you.

After that he's gone for the day, going to all his workouts and training sessions and sim sessions.

When he comes back, he's always so tired. He pushes himself as hard as he possibly can and the poor thing is exhausted when he comes back. His muscles always ache so bad, and often when he comes back he's a little upset and unsettled because he's tired and achey!!

Of course all that upset is gone the moment you pull him into a hug, because that's really exactly what he needs. He always just melts into your arms, so so happy to be back.

Then you have to take care of him for the rest of the night. From the moment he's in your arms, he just falls into that happy, subby headspace where the only thing that matters is making you happy and he just lets you take care of him.

First, you run him a nice bath, with Epsom salts to help his sore muscles. Every single night you tell yourself you won't get in the bath with him and every single night you always get into the bath with him. He just gives you puppy eyes and you always give in, every single time.

After the bath, he often asks for a massage, and you can never say no to him. Of course the massage never ever stays PG. You have yet to manage to give Charles a massage without it turning into at least a hand job.

And after he had worked to hard all day, of course you're going to spoil him. Often you end up giving him a little hand job, holding him close and letting him whine and cry in your arms until he spills over your hand.

And then dinner, of course.

More often than not he gets handfed dinner, especially if you gave him a hand job before. He's just far too deep into his subby headspace to feed himself then, not a chance.

Sometimes you scene with him after dinner, fuck him nice and hard until he can't even remember his own name. Other nights, you just cuddle him and maybe read him a story.

But on Sundays, Sundays are just for you and Charles. He doesn't workout or train or anything. He's all yours to play with.