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pitchsidestories · 1 month ago

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don't say maybe II Ingrid Engen x Reader

masterlist I word count: 1466

a/n: dear readers, thanks for helping us to decide on Ingrid Engen for this fanfic, we hope you all enjoy it. <3

You were mesmerized by her from the moment you met her first, almost a year ago now.

And since then, you had only gotten more intimidated by her.

Ingrid Engen wasn’t just the sweetest sounding name you had ever heard, it also belonged to a woman that could easily pass for a Norwegian model. She was gorgeous, with long dark hair and light eyes.

Not only that, but she was also a talented football player.

Pretty rude to have that much luck in life, if anyone asked you. Still, you often found yourself looking at her, daydreaming about how it would be to date someone like that.

It was stupid, you knew. There was no sign that she was into girls, maybe she even had a boyfriend.

For some reason, you still could not stop yourself from talking about her.

“She’s amazing, Esmee. The way Ingrid stepped up from midfielder to defender due to Mapis injury…“, you were so in awe, you couldn’t even finish the sentence.

“Yeah, she really evolved.“, Esmee said from the massage table next to you while she got her physiotherapy treatment.

“While looking flawless.“, you added, biting your lip.

You decidedly ignored the look Esmee exchanged with your physio.

The dutch player sighed: “Jeez, she’s just a human being. Calm down.“

“I know that!”, you responded quickly and with more force than you had intended.

“Just ask her out if you’re so obsessed with her.“, Esmee laughed casually.

You only rolled your eyes: “Oh, you must be joking. She’ll never go out with someone like me!”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m not that pretty and definitely not cool enough for her.“, you replied in a tone that made clear that the answer was obvious.

You physio decided to join your conversation. “Pretty low self-esteem for a football player.“, she teased you playfully.

You gasped and threw a roll of kinesiology tape in her general direction: “Rude!”

She caught it, already used to your shenanigans and shrugged: “I said what I said.“

“She’s not wrong.“, Esmee agreed.

“Hey!”

The physio started to massage your thighs that felt tight since the last training session: “Esmee is right. You should just ask her, what do you have to lose?”

“My dignity.“, you retorted quickly.

“You still have some?”, the physio asked, visibly proud of her own joke.

Esmee sided with her: “Surprising after saying that you’re not good enough for our Norwegian princess.“

You groaned, silently cursing yourself for being friends with them: “Okay, can you two stop now?

“We’ll once you sorted this out.”, the physio promised winking.

“There is nothing to sort out.”, you grumbled.

“Fine but you need to relax so I can work here.”, she advised.

“I’m relaxed.”, you lied.

“And a bad liar too.”, the physio chuckled.

“Stop it!”, you demanded, suppressing a smile.

“Ah, already a bit better.”, she concluded happily, her hands soothing the tension in your muscles.

Later, Ingrid stood in the doorframe beaming at the Dutch player. “Hi Es, are you joining us for the basketball game?”

“Yes, of course.”, Esmee nodded, a half-crooked smile on her lips.

“Great. Do you know if y/n would be interested too.”, the Norwegian asked, playing nervously with a string of her dark hair.

“Very interested. Heard she loves basketball.”, she replied.

“She does, huh? To be fair she got the height for it, don’t you agree?”, Ingrid questioned biting her lip.

“Yeah, definitely.”, the younger woman agreed.

“I’ll ask her.”, she decided. The training the following day has just ended when Ingrid approached you. “Y/n?”

“Yes?”, you looked at her too stunned by her beauty up close to say more.

“Would you like to come to the game with us?”, the Norwegian addressed her question directly at you.

Under her gaze you could feel your cheek heat up. “Me? Yes, sure.”, you answered delighted.

“Perfect. Es is coming too.”, she answered.

“That’s cool. Did you know I almost became a basketballer?”, you begun to open up, feeling the usual tension you’d have in front of her leaving your body as you leaned nonchalantly on to the wall.

“No, you did?”, the brunette placing her hand on your upper arm seemingly impressed.

“Yes, but football feels like the right choice.”, you admitted, trying to ignore the urge to pinch yourself, this was better than any daydream about her.

“I was telling Esmee yesterday that you look like a basket baller.”, Ingrid confessed.

“You like that, hm?”, you countered cheekily.

“I do. I think it’s pretty funny.”, she responded.

“It’s a bit.”

“I mean I like tall women.”, the Norwegian declared blushing.

“Wait, you like..?”, you frowned.

“See you at the game.”, Ingrid cleared her throat.

“Can’t wait.”, you said while she was on her way out.

“Oh, Ingrid you got love in your eyes.”, Fridolina realized smirking while her best friend sat down on the passenger seat of her car.

“Frido!”, the younger woman groaned.

“What? It’s true.”, the blonde shrugged.

“It’s not.”, Ingrid disagreed.

“You’ll wear something cute later, right? See? I knew it.”, the Swede grinned triumphantly at the brunette.

“I didn’t say anything.”, she protested weakly.

“You didn’t need to I can read it from your face.”, Fridolina remarked. Years of friendship meant that words weren’t necessarily needed, the facial expressions spoke for themselves.

Ingrids cheeks reddened slightly: “Oh please.“

Fridolina knowingly raised an eyebrow: “You’re absolutely smitten.“

The Norwegian flinched at hearing these words out loud. She gently pushed her best friend: “Shut up.“

“Not until you ask her to go out with you.“, Fridolina laughed which caused Ingrid to frown at her.

“I’m not asking her.“, she said decidedly.

Fridolina left it at that and started driving.

You all met a few hours later at the stadium. Esmee and you were already seated, armed with food and drinks when the two Scandinavian girls arrived.

“Hi girls, Esmee and I got snacks.“, you greeted them, lifting the popcorn you were holding in their direction.

Fridolina grinned at you as she sat down: “Delicious. Let me try.“

“Here you go.“, Esmee said, offering her food to the Swede.

“So good.“, she nodded, happily chewing.

Ingrid had in the meantime taken the seat next to you and nudged you with her elbow: “So y/n…?”

“Yes?“, you asked, reluctantly tearing your eyes away from the game. Partly because of your interest in the game, partly because you were nervous to have Ingrid so close to you.

It was worth it though. When you looked up, she smiled at you with kind eyes and soft lips.

She nodded towards the court: “Can you imagine playing there too?”

“With the dudes? Hell no.“, you laughed.

Ingrid rolled her eyes: “Obviously not with men.“

“With girls? Yes, maybe but I prefer football.“, you replied more seriously this time. “Want me to teach you a little after the game?“

Your teammate beamed upon your suggestion: “Please.“

Finding your confidence, you replied: “Can’t say no to a pretty girl.“

“Me neither.“, Ingrid flirted back.

From your other side, Fridolina cringed: “This feels like an awful high school movie. Esmee?”

“Huh?“, asked the young player surprised.

“Come with me, I need something to drink.“

Esmee frowned at Fridolinas drink: “But your cup is still half full…“

Only after the Swede elbowed her in the side, she finally got up: “Okay, sorry, I get it.“

“Thanks.“

You watched the two leave the stands with a shake of your head: “These two really think they are not conspicuous at all, huh?”

“They’ve been planning this for while.“, Ingrid admitted.

Alarm signals went on in your head. Of course this had been too good to be true. Of course this was just a dumb joke and you were the butt of it.

You got up from your seat, heart racing: “What do you mean by planned?“

Ingrid gently reached for your hands, probably concerned that you could run away: “They knew you are exactly my type.“

“I’m your type?!”, you looked at her in disbelief.

“Yes.”, she confirmed earnestly.

“You’re mine too but I thought you were too perfect for me.”, you confessed.

“Too perfect? Me?”, the Norwegian replied amusedly.

“Yeah?”, you replied turning red.

“I’m not perfect.”, the beautiful woman stated.

“So, you said I’m your type and you’re mine, where do we go from here?”, you asked boldly.

“How about we leave this, and you teach me how to play basketball?”, Ingrid suggested.

“I’m in, let’s go.”, you declared while your teammate finally took your hand.

When you both got in her car teenage dirtbag was playing on the radio and you felt with the singer who sung that the girl he had admired all along had feelings for him as well.

Just like Ingrid who cared about you too. This life was sweeter than fiction.

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viennakarma · 1 year ago

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Satisfaction [Part 1]

Lewis Hamilton x reader

Summary: Four times you tried to befriend Lewis, and one time you didn't.

Word count: 2.1k

Tags: female!reader, asshole!Lewis (he will get better), physiotherapist!reader, no romance yet, Lewis is being rude, reader is trying, cursing, a bit angsty, not beta read

Note: Lewis is being kind of an asshole, but I promise he will grovel a lot. This is a two part story. Gentle reminder that english is not my first language (so please bear any mistake), I'm also taking requests for F1 drabbles and oneshots (at this moment I'm writing for Lewis, Fernando, Max and Toto Wolff).

Find me on Twitter!

You drank the rest of your iced tea in one gulp, pushing the nervousness away. It wasn't exactly anxiety, but more first-day jitters at a new job. Adjusting your ponytail, you stood up as one of the team approached.

“Y/N? It's a pleasure to meet you, I'm Ellie from the HR team, we spoke on the phone. Lewis is around, so we thought we’d introduce you two now, okay?”

“Of course, of course, it’s nice to meet you, Ellie.”

Ellie showed you around, giving you a tour of the entire motorhome. You were aware that it was difficult to join a team after the season had already started, especially to take the place of a person who was very loved by everyone and who had been there for several years, but you were willing to do your best to get along with everyone.

Finally, Ellie took you to a training room, where Lewis was inside. He was sitting in an armchair, drinking water from a bottle when Ellie introduced the two of you. You smiled and offered your hand for a shake, but he just ignored his hand with a blank stare.

“Lewis, this is Y/N Y/L/N, your new physical therapist, you'll be seeing each other every other day” Ellie introduced them, not seeming to notice the cold way Lewis greeted you.

“Nice to meet you,” you murmured, trying to ignore the awkwardness between the two of you. Lewis just nodded his head briefly and turned to pay attention to his own cell phone.

Ellie then went over your entire routine for the next few weeks, as well as giving you a short guide to Lewis's physiotherapy sessions over the past two years, and required exercises from fitness to pre-race and post-race.

Your official working day began the following Tuesday at seven in the morning at one of the Mercedes workstations in Brackley, where the entire team was gathered. You needed to be there to look after Lewis' fitness as he had team meetings, and you needed to follow him wherever he went to be able to do your job. Honestly, it wasn't a big problem since you used to work with the Real Madrid football team, so you were used to the traveling routine.

As soon as you entered the building's small gym, Lewis was already inside, tying the laces on his shoes.

"Good morning!" You walked in with a smile, setting your bag aside and holding the two glasses of iced tea you had purchased on the way, “the weather is kind of warm today, huh? I bought iced tea for both of us.”

“No thanks,” Lewis said, standing up, “can we get started?”

The sharp tone left you speechless for a moment, but you soon recovered, tying your hair into a ponytail. You had hoped that the mood on the day you met Lewis was just because he was stressed or had some problem on that specific day. But it seems that today he also wasn’t very interested in being polite to you.

You took a deep breath pulling your iPad out of the bag where you had prepared the day's entire session. Okay, you were patient, you could win him over with time and maybe you could even become friends, or at the very least, on friendly terms.

“Alright, let’s start today’s session with some intense stretching to prepare your body for the intensity of the next few days’ sessions,” you murmured, pointing to the mat on the floor.

“Angela didn't use an iPad during our sessions,” he commented casually.

“Because Angela had been with you for years and had already memorized her exercises. Can we start?"

II.

“Hey, I’m sorry I’m late,” you said, entering the gym, plopping your bag on a nearby table.

“You could have a little more respect for other people’s time,” Lewis said, suddenly. You froze in place, your eyes fleeting to the watch high on the wall, that showed you were barely ten minutes late for the session.

“Yes, I’m sorry,” you repeated, pulling your iPad open.

You were a few weeks into your new job, and acquaintanceship with Lewis had not gone better in the slightest. If anything, it had gone even worse. Lewis was adamant in not opening up to you, not even in the professional sense of your work relationship. Every time you tried small talk, or even professional talk, he had shut you out barely politely. He was constantly annoyed by your presence, and didn’t engage in anything other than the exercises you were helping him with. You noticed his performance was going bad in the season, and you attributed his bad mood solely to that. That’s why you usually brushed off his rude remarks and his questioning of the quality of your work.

“We’ll do core strength today, Lewis.”

You spent the next two hours walking him through every exercise you had for the day. Sometime during your session, you tried to help him fix his posture by pressing a hand on his shoulder, but he brushed you off, only saying he was able to do it himself.

By the end of your session, he was visibly tired, and you reached in your purse to your small stock of protein bars. You grabbed two and tossed one to Lewis. He caught it in the air, staring at it with a frown.

“It’s a protein bar. It is healthy, vegan, and doesn’t taste like cardboard, for once,” you giggled, trying to strike up conversation, “honestly, I found this small brand from Hungary out of sheer luck and my life hasn’t been the same ever since, now I just order like this crazy-”

“Are we done?” He cut you off, you stopped smiling.

“What?” you said, staring at him going to his bag.

“Is our session done?” he insisted.

“Yes,” you said, deflated. Lewis walked away, and on his way to the door, he dropped the little protein bar you gave him in the trash.

You felt a lump in your throat, defeated. You had never had a client so difficult to deal with. Most of them were usually standoffish in the beginning, but they became friends with time, some of them you had a great relationship even now, years later.

Lewis just- he just hated you for apparently no reason, and it was making your professional life pure hell. It was hard not bonding with someone you work so physically close with. And honestly, you had tried everything in the book to help him acclimate to you, but he was just- immune. He didn’t like you, you had no idea if he even liked your job because he refused to give you any feedback whatsoever.

You refused to go to HR because it would make you look like a kid throwing a tantrum because the other kid doesn’t like you. What would HR do? Force Lewis to tolerate you? He would probably hate you more if that happened.

You just sighed, swallowing the tears as you left.

III.

“I was considering adding pilates sessions once a week, we can do reformer and clinical pilates alternating” you told Lewis as he did the final stretching of the session.

“I don’t like sudden changes in my exercise routine,” he said, getting up.

“Well, I believe it would do you good. And we can start slowly for you to adapt better. Does every other week work for you?” You taped your schedule on the iPad.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” he muttered, visibly annoyed now.

“I can forward you a few articles I have been reading to show you, why I think it-”

“No, I don’t want that,” he shut you off completely, “can I go now?”

You sighed, enough was enough. You were pissed at him, being difficult, being annoying, fucking up your routine by being rude and being a fucking asshole.

“No, you can��t,” you said, voice firm, which kind of surprised him, since it was the first time you ever used that tone with him, “what is your fucking problem?”

“What are you talking about?” He folded his arms.

“What is your problem with me? Is it something I did? Or maybe something I said?” You pressed, walking towards him, the closest you have ever been to him.

“I have no problem with you,” he said and you scoffed, “we are not friends, you’re just my physiotherapist, nothing more, nothing less.”

You felt grateful he left as soon as he said that, otherwise he would have seen the tears filling your eyes.

IV.

“I went back to therapy, because I’m feeling like a failure,” you told Angela over the phone.

“Is he being so difficult?” She asked, sounding worried.

“You have no idea…” you whispered, pressing your temples.

“You want me to talk to him?” Angela said, concerned. You stared at your own reflection in the mirror inside the gym, seeing the dark circles under your eyes from lack of sleep. The last encounter with Lewis was enough to take a toll on your mental health and trigger a bit of insomnia.

“No, I think it would make it worse, but I appreciate the offer,” you sighed, exhausted, “I’ll work around these difficulties, and if it gets any worse, I’ll call you so you can talk to him. Deal?”

“Deal. Just- Don’t burn yourself out, ok? I know how he can be hard to deal with. Let me know if you need anything.” Angela offered, and you wanted to cry with the kindness in her voice.

“Yes, of course. Thank you very much for letting me vent, yeah? Talk to you later” You said, and noticed how Lewis entered the gym, seemingly surprised that you even were there.

That would make two of you.

This time you went through your training session in complete silence, only talking about his physicality and the exercises. You didn’t joke with him, nor did you make commentaries on the session. You just did your job silently, staring at him with a blank face.

As you finished, you packed your bag and left without a word, going straight to HR to put in your resignation letter you had written during your day off.

Lewis noticed your absence as soon as he entered the gym for your session. You hadn’t been late ever since that time he called you out the first and only time you were late. Since then, you were always there when he arrived. But you weren’t there and he felt something was off. Maybe you had a cold or something and HR forgot to tell him.

He walked up to Ellie’s office, knocking lightly before entering.

“Hey there, Lewis! Can I help you?” She asked, putting away a few papers.

“Hey. Where is Y/N?” He asked, sitting down.

“Oh, I thought she had told you… She resigned two days ago.” With Ellie’s words, Lewis felt his stomach drop, but Ellie just continued talking, “she said she didn’t adapt very well to the routine, which is sad considering she is such a big fan of Mercedes and Formula 1. And, you know, since she was a recommendation from Angela Cullen, I really thought she would fit perfectly with the team.”

Lewis felt his mouth go dry. He didn’t know any of this. He didn’t know you were a fan of the team, as he didn’t know Angela had put you in her own position after leaving. He felt so, so bad, he was suddenly nauseous.

“Did she say exactly why she was leaving?” Lewis asked, heart beating in his ears.

“She said she wasn’t adapting to the traveling routine and it took a toll on her. She also apologized profusely, but I told her it was alright, it happens more often than she thinks.”

Lewis knew exactly the reason you left. He had made you go through living hell by being a stubborn asshole. You tried to befriend him, to be nice, to start small talk, to be kind and his only response to your attempts were flat out rudeness.

“Well, these things happen, right?” Ellie shrugged, sympathizing with you more than Lewis ever did. “So, while we find someone to fill her position, you’ll do your pre-race and post-race with George and his physiotherapist.”

Lewis didn’t hear any of the other stuff Ellie said, guilt eating up at him with such force he was out of breath. He didn’t even think before treating you that way, his brain just turned to that everytime he remembered he was alone now, that he had lost his best friend and confidante. Stress of the season had also caught up to him making him more irritable than ever.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he whispered as he left Ellie’s office, he needed to do something.

He called your phone, but you had blocked him already.

“Fuck, I need to fix this.”

[Part 2]

#f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton #formula 1 #formula one

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lessi-lover · 1 year ago

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the fun part II l.williamson x reader

★ the fun part II l. williamson x reader

dating a professional footballer naturally had its undeniable advantages, and being with the one and only, - leah catherine williamson, certainly had its benefits. her god sculpted physique, along with her strikingly cocky personality, was a constant source of worship, motivating you to become a regular gym enthusiast yourself. this of course meant taking it upon yourself to try and successfully make the gym as enjoyable as you could for everyone. even going as far as creating a roster so all the girls could enjoy their respective music, even though majority loathed the exercise off the pitch, rather wanting to do what they did loved the most, - playing football.

with the 23/24 barclays super league fastly approaching, morale was at an all time high, with a large portion of the girls just returning from the world cup, - your own team having been the first national team to make it to a semi-final in australian history.

however, even though you and the english skipper had been together for quite some time now, you had never officially worked out in the gym together before. you dedicating your body to football as much as you could, given you were a fresh transfer, and leah spending majority of her time in the private gym or in the physiotherapy wing, recovering from her ACL injury.

but in this particular moment, you found yourself wishing you had moved to arsenal earlier.

your eyes were fixated on the blonde, captivated by the way her stomach glistened with a thin layer of sweat, emphasising the work she had spent on defining her stomach, during the international break. her black, training top clung tightly to her body, she had pulled the sleeves up, revealing the captain’s strong and large biceps, while her shorts showcased her muscular thighs with perfection.

you tried to concentrate on your gym partner, - steph, the australian defender and yourself were attached at the hip, having first met at an U17 camp, you had immediately clicked, as you had both gotten older you often were tagged "the work wives," which guaranteed you were sure to hear remarks from both leah and dean, weekly.

praising your resilience, steph couldn't figure out why your breathing had suddenly become so shallow and uneven. trying to gain your attention, she waved her hand in front of your face a couple times over, but your thoughts were consumed by the blonde goddess doing weights in front of you.

leah, always looking for you in a crowded room, noticed your consistent gaze on her. Increasing the weight, she turned over her shoulder, wearing a smug and cocky grin on her face. she turned her body to face you, slowly lifting her sweaty shirt over her head and tossing it aside where a couple of the girls were stretching. if only the she knew what she was doing to you, - newsflash, the blonde knew exactly what she was doing, she always did.

you snapped out of your trance, attempting to regain your composure and focus on your exercises. however, her presence in the gym was overwhelming. every curl of the obnoxiously heavy weight she performed, every flex of her strong arms, seemed to hypnotise you, making it impossible to concentrate. “are you alright y/n/n?” steph asked, resting a comforting hand on your back. you didn’t respond, too infatuated with the blonde. “i think you should take a break, yeah? i'll let you catch your breath.” steph helped you to stand, walking away shaking her head in confusion.

the sight of her well-defined abs and the sweat trickling down them was mesmerising. "enjoying the view?" she yelled over at you, her voice laced with confidence, - she knew she could do the simplest actions that would get a cracking reaction out of you. a few of your teammates exercising nearby rolled their eyes at their vice captain.

“you alright there, baby?” the blonde finished off her exercise and started to make her way over to your gym mat. even the way she walked, amazed you. "i... i can't concentrate," you confessed, your voice barely audible over the loud gym music and nearby chatter of your teammates. leah’s taunting chuckle filled the air, a deep, alluring laugh that sent shivers down your spine. "maybe I can help you with that," she purred, setting down her phone and water. she cockily approached you, a smug grin plastered on her face, her piercing eyes fixed on yours, filled with desire and hunger. she took a seat on the mat, slotting her body behind your own.

she extended a soft hand towards you, a silent invitation for you to sit on her lap. "come here, love," she asked, but you knew better than to take this as a request, - it was an order. you hesitated for a moment before giving in to the undeniable pull she had over you. taking her hand, you let her guide you closer until your back rested against her front. her touch electrifies your body, igniting a fire within you, and you find yourself unwillingly relaxing into her strong arms.

leah’s hands settled on the side of your thighs, beginning to guide through the exercise. your breath caught in your throat as her fingers traced aimless patterns on the skin where your shorts had ridden up, sending shocks throughout your body. after about 15 reps, you let your head fall softly onto her shoulder. lifting your mouth to her neck, “le, we could get caught.” you whispered, trying to stay as invisible as you could in the crowded gym. she moved her hands up and down your arms. “i know baby, isn't that the fun part?” she responded, placing her chin on your head, exhaling deeply into your hair. the tight proximity between the two of you and intense exercise left you breathless, as you struggled to find words. your mind completely overtaken by the blonde. "you know," she murmured above your ear, her voice sending cold shivers down your spine, "i've always wanted to be your spotter." her words hung in the air, laden with unspoken promises and desire, leaving you utterly starstruck.

“you think we can finish this at home, darling?” leah whispered lowly in your ear, lightly kissing your neck.

#woso #arsenal wfc #leah williamson #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso community #arsenal women

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wosoluver · 8 months ago

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Healers got to date protectors - Headcanons

Misa Rodriguez x Physio!reader

Misa Rodriguez Masterlist

──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──

How the two of you met

When Misa arrived one day at training, she couldn't help but notice the whispering going around the team.

They hardly ever got everyone together to talk about something, that wasn't football.

The friend groups were overall very divided.

But you know how it is. Gossip aways brings people together.

"What's going on?" Misa immediately asked Brunn.

"New member in the staff."

"And that's whats causing all of this?"

"It's a new physio. And she is gorgeous!" Sofie chimed in.

"I can't believe your guys are so worked up about that.

I thought something bad had happened."

"Oihane was the one who saw her when she stopped by to get tapping for her hamstring issue." Raso added.

"And now everyone is coming up with their own plans, to go into the office to meet her, without seeming so obsessed." Møller revealed.

"You guys want to fake needing physio sessions?" She was so confused. Why were they all acting like they hadn't seen a beautiful woman before?

"Not me!" "Nope" "I won't" the group of four said in unison, but they couldn't keep a straight face.

"You guys are unbelievable! I'm going out to the field."

By the end of the day she had landed badly on one of her jumps, and had a pain in her hand that wouldn't go away. But she refused going in, to check it out.

She didn't want to seem like she was partaking in the other girls' behavior.

So from training, she went straight home.

Next morning she didn't think she could skip checking in, just to make sure everything was alright and maybe get something to relieve that slight pain she felt.

She didn't want to tell anyone were she was going, so she decided on going to your office before training.

And once she saw you, she understood slightly, the commotion yesterday.

You were young, about the same age as her. That was very unusual when it came to the team's medical staff.

Your eyes were shiny and your smile caught her by surprise.

"Uhm, good morning." she choked out.

"Good morning!

Please don't tell me you feel a slight discomfort on your leg too." You joked in a light way.

"Oh- No. Its just, I landed badly on my hand yesterday. It tried sleeping it off but it didn't work."

"Come sit, I'll take a look."

You grabbed Misa's hand gently, to check what was going on.

"It doesn't seem to be anything to be worried about. It's barely a mild sprain. The discomfort should go away in two or three days max.

I'll tape you up to make sure you're safe for training. I don't want to risk worsening it."

As you grabbed your kit, you started to work on it.

"They're not really hurt." you let out a soft laugh at her words.

"I could tell. I think they forgot I'm a doctor." you joked.

"They're only doing this to have the chance to meet you."

"I suspected something was going on. That's why I didn't tell anyone about it. Imagine how alarmed they would be to find out half of the team had come in for a unscheduled physiotherapy session? In one day?" You both laughed about it.

"Well, you're all done here. Come back tomorrow so I can redo it. That's the best we can do, to heal it faster." Giving her a comforting smile.

"Thank you! I am Misa, by the way."

"Y/N. Nice to meet you." You said, as she left for training.

──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──

"Where were you?" Asked Raso, knowing exactly where she was, from the tape on her wrist.

"I hurt my hand during training yesterday." There was no use trying to lie.

"Of course you did."

"I did! I swear!" letting out a laugh.

"Wow, Misa smiling in the morning? What have they done to you?" Asked Sofie coming in.

"Take a wild guess." Teased Hayley.

"No. I actually needed it."

"We believe you." at this point Misa was already rolling her eyes.

──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──

This will be a series of headcanons! So far 3 parts planned. 🩷

#espwnt #misa rodriguez #misa rodriguez x reader #real madrid femenino #woso x reader

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tsunami-of-tears · 8 months ago

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Wingspans

Poly+ ACOTAR Week 2024 - Day 5 (Favourite Tropes)

Cazriel x Healer Reader

Summary: Y/N is eager to learn more about the Illyrians - for healing purposes of course.

Pairing Masterlist

Wordcount: 3.2K

A/N: I had an idea and it ran away from me, hence the title change.

This entire week features some of my favourite tropes (idiots in love and everyone else can see it, aphrodisiacs, friends to lovers, etc) but I’ve focused on wings for this part, along with one bed at the end for a treat 😘

Warnings: wing clipping; female healthcare issues; allusion to domestic abuse; domestic mate stuff; multiple smut scenes (wingplay, PiV, double penetration).

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ:

Reader

For as long as you can remember, you’ve been fascinated with wings.

Every pair you’ve come across has been uniquely beautiful and awe-inspiring, but the thing you envied most about winged fae was their ability to fly.

You have your father to thank for that - for inheriting the call of the wind. A call you’d never been able to answer.

Now, thanks to the Cauldron, you were blessed with two winged mates.

The three of you had been edging around the bond since it snapped a few weeks ago. It hadn’t been formally accepted yet as you all agreed to get comfortable with the dynamic first.

Since you started courting Cassian and Azriel, your fascination with their wings only grew.

You would watch how the strong muscles flex as they carried you in the sky. You would admire them stretching out in the warmth of the sun.

You also started to notice the little quirks both of your mates had.

When they are cold, they tuck their wings in closer to their frame; when Azriel is proud of something, he holds his wings up higher; and when Cassian laughs, his wings flutter as his shoulders rise and fall.

There’s also the quirks during sex.

The subtle twitch and the slight curling of the outer edges as they reach their climax.

Learning about how their wings worked would only make you a better healer, so you spend your limited free time pouring over medical journals and reading Madja’s notes from over the years. The theory was a good foundation, but the best way for you to learn is with practical experiences.

The first time you got to touch them was with Azriel. He had caught you staring at his wings.

He was training on the rooftop of the House of Wind, his wings were fully extended behind him. The sunlight glowed red through the thin membrane. They were captivating.

A few shadows hurry over to greet you, like a playful puppy nipping at your feet.

Azriel turns, smiling at you and catches your gaze. “What are you staring at?” he smirks.

“Your wings are mesmerising,” you say softly.

Azriel stretches them out wider for you, showing off his wingspan before giving you a wink and returning to his training.

He stopped by your clinic later where you were reading through a detailed tome about wing physiotherapy. You were so engrossed in the text, that you didn’t see him slip in.

You jump when you finally notice him towering above you. “Cauldron, you scared me Az.”

“I’m sorry, you make a cute face when you're concentrating, I didn’t want to interrupt. What are you reading?” Azriel walks around to your side of the desk, looking down at the scrawled handwriting filling the pages in your hands. He smirks down at you. “Is there a particular reason that you’re so obsessed with wingspans, Y/N?”

Your cheeks heat, and you look up at Azriel. “I want to be prepared… If the need arises.” You glance at the sharp talons poking over your mate’s broad shoulders.

He leans down and flicks through a few pages of the tome. “The diagrams are good but it’s not quite the same,” he says. “Do you want to examine my wings?”

“Are you sure? I know they are quite sensitive. I don’t want to cross any line.”

The corners of his mouth curl upwards at your apprehension. “It is in my favour to help you, so you can heal me if need be. But, there’s no one I trust more.”

————

Azriel had removed his shirt, allowing you access to his back and wings. His wings were spread, the leathery membrane taut between each bone. Your fingertips delicately traced each ridge as Azriel expanded and contracted his muscles.

Your hands are warm with your healing magic as you gently stroke them against the sensitive skin. Azriel’s knuckles turn white as he grips the tabletop he’s braced against. You can tell it’s taking all of his self-control not to fuck you then and there.

When you ran the edge of his wing between your thumb and index finger, he snapped. Azriel spun around, grabbing your hips and lifting you onto the workbench behind you.

Azriel’s lips are on yours, hurried and hungry as he takes your lower lip between his teeth. You gasp against his mouth as he bites down before kissing along your jawline.

His hands roam your body, branding your flesh with need.

You fumble with the button on Azriel’s pants as he hikes up your dress and pushes your panties to the side. His fingers dip straight in, your core already soaked and throbbing.

You had known exactly what you were doing when you started examining his wings…

You finally free Azriel’s cock from the constraints of his leathers, and he grinds his hips against yours.

Your lips find each other again as he ruts into you; not waiting to let you adjust, you don’t need to. Your veins are filled with lust as he pounds into you. The steady rhythm combined with his thumb on your clit sends you over the edge.

One hand grips behind his neck tightly as you climax, and you reach with the other to run your fingers along the inside of his wing. That stroke was his undoing, and he finished deep inside you.

You feel his cock twitching as you stay in your embrace, regaining your breath.

“Fuck, Y/N, that was…” Azriel pants, kissing your forehead tenderly.

“That was a breach of the healer/patient relationship,” you laugh.

Azriel smirks, “You can take advantage of me any day, angel.”

————

The next time, you tried it with Cassian.

He was underneath you as you rode him. Your hands flat on his chest for support as you rocked back and forth.

You looked at his wings splayed beneath him, and then to his eyes - a silent question.

“I’m all yours, you can touch anywhere you want, angel.

He grips your hips harder, lifting his to meet your thrusts.

You softly trace along a prominent vein and Cassian throws his head back, moaning loudly.

He thrusts up into you without abandon, hitting the spot that has you seeing stars and reaching your climax together.

The sound of your breathing fills the room as you lay down in Cassian’s arms. Your head resting on his chest. He kisses the top of your head. “I’ll never tire of this,” he whispers against your hair.

————

Soon after that fateful training exercise, you began working closely with the Valkyries. If any conflict arose, you’d be stationed with them as a healer. The all-female unit had grown to 50 warriors in the years since its revival. With Nesta now residing in Autumn with Eris, the unit is led by Gwyn and Emerie.

The first time you met Emerie, your heart broke.

Her wings were nothing like the mighty appendages held high by your mates.

They were beautiful but brutal.

Thick jagged scars cut across the planes of her wings, starting at the very base. Her wings had very limited movement, and on cold mornings, you notice a slight twinge in the left one.

Still, Emerie carried herself proudly with her wings as tall as she could manage. A true Valkyrie.

After observing her from afar, your research changed direction. You were driven by your new purpose - helping your friend and the countless females like her.

There were limited existing resources on clipped wings, so you proposed a clinical study to Rhys. He issued approval instantly and, to Lord Devlin’s dismay, he set up a clinic in Windhaven for you to meet with patients.

Many females were scared to visit you, out of fear of retaliation from their husbands and fathers. But there were still many brave souls who came forward, allowing you to examine them.

Progress was slow, but both the physical and emotional support you provided was making a difference.

————

Today you had a female visiting from another camp. You walk into the waiting room with a warm smile on your face. You’re always so proud to see new patients.

“Victoria? I’m Y/N, your new healer. Please come inside.” You say to the female.

She gives you a shy smile, lowering her gaze as she walks past you into your office.

“Thank you for making the trip to see me. I will do my best to help you, however I can. Take a seat on that cot there,” you gesture towards the bed in the middle of the room. You meet her eyes as you continue, your voice filled with sincerity. “I want you to remember this is entirely on your terms. I will only touch you, or offer treatment with your consent, do you understand?”

Victoria nods, brushing a single tear from her cheek at your words.

“Good. If it’s okay, I’d like to see the extent of the damage. Can you show me your range of movement?” You give Victoria an encouraging nod. “Lift, wonderful. Now lower them. You’re doing amazing. And now extend them as far as you can outwards - like you’re stretching.” You demonstrate with your arms, extending them out to the side.

Victoria’s wings shudder slightly as she strains to stretch them out but they barely shift.

“You’re doing so well, I know this is difficult. Can I touch you? I want to get a feel of the scarring if that’s okay.”

She nods hesitantly.

“If you want me to stop at any time, please tell me.”

“Okay,” she says. The first words you heard from her mouth.

“I’m just letting my magic get a sense of the damage, my hand might feel cool along the inner side of your wings.” You move to stand behind Victoria and start on the biggest scar. The tissue is jagged and bumpy, and as pale as the moon. Your healing magic flows through you, washing over the surface of the scar but unable to penetrate. This is the worst case of wing clipping you’ve seen so far. You aren’t sure how much movement she’ll be able to regain, but you have to try.

You walk around the cot to face her and finish your consultation, asking all your standard questions about pain and mobility.

You pick up a glass jar filled with a numbing salve. “I’d like you to start by applying this to the scars once a day.” You demonstrate the amount of product to apply before handing over the jar. “If you’re particularly sore you can apply it a second time. You may need some help reaching around the back, do you have someone at home that you trust?”

“I live with my sister and her family. She’ll help,” Victoria says.

“Okay good, if you do need somewhere to stay during the treatment, it can be arranged. And if you don’t feel safe, we can help with that too.”

Victoria nods in thanks.

“I’ll see you again in 4 weeks. If you run out of the salve, send word.”

“Thank you, Y/N.” Victoria smiles at you, looking more hopeful than when she first arrived. You help her into her coat and escort her out of the clinic.

Once outside, you look up and see the sky is swirling with storm clouds and the sun is just about to dip behind the mountains. The wind howls through the surrounding trees. A big gust hits you and you feel the ice in your very bones.

You bid goodbye to Victoria and trudge home. On clinic days you often stay in Rhys’s mother’s cabin with your mates.

Warmth envelops you as you step over the threshold, along with the smell of your mates and a hot dinner.

You kick off your boots and giggle as shadows help you with your coat. Cassian is standing over the stove as Azriel sets the table. Azriel stops what he’s doing to kiss you hello.

“How was your day, angel?” Azriel asks.

“It was good. I had a new patient, it always breaks my heart to see the trauma that’s been inflicted.” You instinctively reach for Azriel’s hand, stroking the back with your thumb. “I hope I can ease that pain, even just a little bit.”

“You’re doing such great things,” Cassian says, juggling the three bowls and a bottle of wine. You and Azriel quickly reach out to help him and sit down together.

“We’re so proud of you,” Azriel states, adoration across his face.

You smile back. “I do have you both to thank for all of this. I’ve worked with many kinds of wings before, but I think yours are the most fascinating.”

“What kinds of wings?” Cassian asks.

“Well, in Spring, many faeries have wings similar to insects. They are very delicate but they don’t have the same soft tissue and nerve ends. Then there are the Peregryns, they have fewer bones in their wings than Illyrians - but the feathers…” You laugh. “If you think Illyrians are protective of their wings, you should see a Peregryn if you touch their feathers.”

Azriel gives you a curious look, “Do you have much experience with Peregryns?”

“Mostly just my father, but I didn’t get to see him very often,” you answer plainly. Cassian nearly chokes on the wine he was sipping and Azriel’s eyes widen in shock.

“How have you never mentioned this?” Cassian asks you incredulously.

“I don’t know, it hasn’t come up. Obviously, I didn’t inherit any physical characteristics. I didn’t think it was important,” you shrug.

“Every part of your history is important,” Azriel says with complete sincerity.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t intentionally keep it from you.”

“I guess that explains how you took to flying so quickly,” Cassian remarks.

You shake your head at your mates as you return to your meal.

You finish up the cozy evening with Cassian and Azriel who had many questions for you about different wingspans. Namely, which race has the biggest. Even if it wasn’t the truth, you would have said Illyrians.

————

A few weeks later, Winter had well and truly arrived.

You’re in a distant Illyrian camp making some supply drops and home visits. Both Cassian and Azriel join you, using any excuse to spend more time with you.

It’s a relatively small camp, you have a handful of patients here so it’s only meant to be a quick stop. But, as the afternoon progresses, the weather takes a turn for the worse.

“We’ll have to stay here overnight,” Cassian says. “We can’t risk flying in a storm and Azriel can’t winnow with both of us.”

Fortunately, there is a rundown but warm inn just outside of the camp. Unfortunately, with the incoming snowstorm, all of the rooms are booked. All but one.

You enter the tiny room behind your mates who both need to bow their heads to fit inside. It would be a cramped lodging for two high fae but with three of you plus two pairs of wings…

Cramped is a severe understatement.

————

You get ready for bed as best as you can, manoeuvring around each other with great difficulty.

Finally you settle in, comforted by the warmth seeping into you from both sides.

The bond is still new, you’ve not been in such close proximity to your mates, with so few layers between you and not touched them.

The heat radiating off both Cassian and Azriel was driving you wild. And based on their strong scents, it was having the same effect on them.

Cassian’s groans break the silence. “Godsdamnit, Y/N. You’ll be the death of me.”

“I’m not doing anything!” You exclaim.

“That’s the point,” Cassian chuckles.

You decide to tease him further by pushing your butt back against him, rubbing against his hardening length.

Cassian groans again and wraps his arms around your waist, hands groping your breasts. Azriel leans on his forearm and locks eyes with you. You gasp as Cassian pinches your firm nipples and starts nipping at your earlobe. Cassian’s hand starts to trail lower, and you can’t hold in your moan as it slips down to your core, dragging through your growing wetness.

Desire overwhelms your senses. You don’t care about the space or lack thereof. You need your mates.

Azriel starts to palm himself, moaning softly as you send images down the twin bonds. Images of how you want them.

“Are you sure, angel?” Cassian whispers into your ear. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

You lean further into his embrace, “I’m sure. I need you both.”

You sit up and straddle Azriel, grinding your dripping slit against him. Azriel holds your hips firmly, pushing you down to provide more friction for both of you.

You look over at Cassian with slightly glazed eyes. You nod at him, confirming your desire.

He kneels on the bed behind you, there’s just enough room that he doesn’t hit his head on the low support beam. He squeezes your ass as he kisses down the side of your neck. Azriel starts circling your clit with his thumb as you continue to rock on top of him.

You lean forward slightly, hands braced on Azriel’s chest as Cassian drags his cock along your slit, collecting your arousal.

Azriel positions himself at your entrance as Cassian lines up at your rear.

“Are you quite sure, angel?” Cassian asks again.

“Yes… Please,” you whine softly.

Azriel lowers your hips, burying himself inside you as you both moan at the tightness. Your eyes flutter at how full you feel, and Cassian hasn’t penetrated you yet.

You feel pressure against your rear as Cassian pushes against you. “Are you ready?” He asks.

You nod in answer, already struggling for words.

Azriel resumes his steady circles as Cassian pushes into you. The stretching sensation is so intense you let out a strangled cry. “Are you okay?” Cassian asks.

“Yep, I just need a moment to adjust.”

Cassian resumes kissing your jaw as your body gets used to the full feeling.

“I’m ready,” you say and Cassian starts to slowly move in and out.

Azriel starts thrusting, matching Cassian’s timing.

“So full,” you moan, your eyes rolling back into your head as the pleasure overwhelms you.

With each thrust, your clit rubs against Azriel’s groin, bringing you closer and closer to that sweet release.

“Fuck, I’m not going to last long,” Azriel pants. Cassian moans in agreeance.

Your fingers gravitate to your nipples, pinching the sensitive nubs as you’re hurled to the finish line.

“Cum for us, angel,” Azriel commands, and you do.

You cry out as you hit your climax, louder than usual. Both your holes clench as your mates wring scream after scream of pleasure from you.

They both follow closely behind as you grip them tightly. As the moans and cries subside, the room is filled with the sound of panting.

Cassian pulls out of you first, collapsing beside Azriel.

Azriel helps lift you off of him and nestles you in between himself and Cassian. He kisses you lovingly as Cassian’s hand dips between your legs - using a washcloth to clean you up.

Once clean, he pulls you close to his chest and wraps his wings around you and Azriel.

Feeling content in your bubble with your mates, sleep finds you and takes you into its loving embrace.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･

Tags ♡ @littlestw01f @impossibelle @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @the-wall-willow @xasael @lilah-asteria @saltedcoffeescotch @mybestfriendmademe @therealmoonstone

#poly+acotarweek2024 #poly+acotarweek2024 d5 #poly!acotar #cazriel x reader #acotar #acosf #acotar fanfiction #acotar fic #a court of thorns and roses #acotar oneshot #acomaf

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spell-cleaver · 2 months ago

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Portrait of an Empire

Angstober

Day 16: No One Else To Turn To

One day, after he eased himself out of the medbay and back into the rhythms of everyday life, Luke start to seek out Mara.

Sheev noticed it only slowly. The first time was certainly a surprise. He was wandering around the Hand’s training halls with his cane in hand. He nodded when he passed Sheev in the corridor but did not greet him, instead moving right on. When he finally stopped, it was outside Mara’s personal quarters, where he held his cane in both hands awkwardly and took a deep breath.

Then he raised his hand to knock, only to be interrupted by, “Come in, Highness.”

Mara had sensed him, of course. And she never said Highness without a little disdain, even though Sheev was fairly sure the two of them were on good terms by now.

Luke took another awkward breath, then stepped inside, the door opening to let him. He looked like a man about to go to his death.

But later that afternoon, he was smiling to himself. It was the first such expression Sheev had seen on him in months.

After that, they seemed to move together around the palace, heads bent, Mara slowing her pace so he could keep up with her without hurting himself. It was while they were together that he changed his cane from the medbay-issued one to a lightsaber-cane, and Mara was the first person Sheev saw fight him with it. Luke didn’t move with grace or ease, but he moved and fought. That was more than his father had convinced him to do.

The more Sheev looked, the more noticeable it became. They were together all the time. Unsettled by not understanding, Sheev tried to demand answers from her. She was perfectly polite, but her answer was not helpful.

“He asked me for help,” she said blandly, averting her gaze to the floor in the appropriate deference. “I said I would help him, master.”

“Does he have no one else he can turn to?” Sheev didn’t intend for the question to sound so bitter. He wondered if she would notice. If she would relay it back to Luke. She was supposed to be his spy.

“I didn’t ask,” she said. She probably hadn’t. She was smart enough not to ask questions she didn’t want to know the answers to.

After a meaningful pause, she asked, “Should I stop?”

She was still looking at the floor, but Sheev felt she was staring into his eyes with a boldness that frightened him.

“No,” he said, of course. “Anything that helps him, I wholeheartedly endorse.”

Let her relay that back to him, as well.

Whatever messages she may or may not have shared, the two remained inseparable. Training. Wandering. Talking. She was at Luke’s physiotherapy appointments with him. Luke started to look at her with something far deeper and more abiding than gratitude, and Sheev felt disquieted by the depths of emotions that were welling up around the palace. It had been a long time since he’d had to swim.

But it seemed to help. Luke, despite his pain, kept smiling. So Sheev would let it go unchallenged.

For now.

#luke skywalker #mara jade #sheev palpatine #random words on a page #my writing #portrait of an empire #angstober 2024

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stargazer-sims · 8 months ago

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The Art of Redemption

(part 15)

previous // next // story index

—————

A lot can change in a week.

Beth-Anne is astounded at how much progress Nikolai has made in just seven days. Considering how goal-driven he is, she probably shouldn't be astonished, but his quick transformation is more than she could've reasonably expected. His physical recovery is on track, he's gotten back his energy and focus, and he seems far less anxious. It’s a relief to her, seeing him returning to his old self.

At his checkup on Wednesday, the doctor and the sports therapist both cleared him to walk without crutches, and the sports therapist fitted him with a compression knee sleeve that he's supposed to wear when he's active. He's allowed to walk on the treadmill for up to thirty minutes a day, broken into ten-minute sessions, and he's supposed to keep up with his physiotherapy exercises. No leg weights and no stationary bicycle, the therapist said, which he frowned at but ultimately agreed to.

The thing Nikolai appeared to be most pleased about was the fact that he no longer requires weekly checkups. The sports therapist said he'd have him come back in two weeks' time to check his progress and possibly increase his exercise level.

"You'll have to come back by yourself," Beth-Anne told him. "Or get your grandfather to bring you if you don't have your car back by then, because I'll be in South Korea with Brett."

"Junior Worlds. Right. I'm sure Grandpa can bring me." He turned his attention back to the therapist. "So, in two weeks I should be able to start running again?"

The therapist bestowed him with an amused smile. "Athletes are all the same. You're all in a rush to be rid of your restrictions. But yes, if you do everything you're supposed to, in two weeks you should be able to do some light running on the treadmill. Perhaps you can do outdoor running and use your leg weights and ride your bike a couple of weeks after that."

Nikolai's next question came as no surprise to Beth-Anne. "When can I skate?"

"Let's give that some time."

"Yes, but how much time?"

"I think he's looking for a realistic timeline," Beth-Anne intervened.

"Another six to eight weeks at the very least before I'd be comfortable clearing you for that," the therapist said. "It may be longer, depending on your progress. Ideally, I'd like to see that knee fully stable and I'd like to see you regain some muscle before you get on the ice again."

Nikolai counted on his fingers. "Eight weeks would be... mid-May?"

"About then, I think," the therapist said.

"Okay. I can live with that. I'll be busy doing my coaching certification course between now and then anyway."

That was another thing. Even before his appointment with the doctor and therapist, he'd gone ahead and signed himself up for both the basic and advanced coach training courses.

He's going to need the basic certification just to be permitted to work with kids without supervision from another professionally certified coach, and the advanced level is necessary for him to work one-on-one with students who are training to compete in officially-recognized national and international events. The basic course is just four days long and the next available one is at the end of March. The next advanced level course is taking place over the last two weeks of April and the first week of May.

The timing couldn't possibly be more fortuitous, Beth-Anne thinks. He should be able to return to the ice around the same time he receives his full certification. Most group skating programs pause for the summer, so that will free up some of her time to work with him, to help him rebuild his confidence on the ice if he needs that, and to teach him everything she knows about teaching others. With any luck, by the time group classes resume at the beginning of September, he'll be ready for a small group of his own.

As soon as they got home from the sports medicine clinic, Nikolai went straight to his room. He came back to the kitchen only a couple minutes later with his skate bag, sat himself down on a kitchen chair and promptly pulled off his socks.

"What are you doing?" Beth-Anne inquired.

He glanced up at her, his expression plainly broadcasting that it should be obvious and she she shouldn't need to ask. Still, he replied, "Putting my skates on."

"Why?" she asked.

"Because I miss them," he said.

"Okay, but don't you dare stand up in them. Just because you're not on the ice, that doesn't mean it doesn't count."

"I won't, I promise. I just want them on. I miss how they feel on my feet."

Fair enough, she thought. She watched him slip his feet into the boots and meticulously lace them up. He sat there with his skates on for the next half-hour, while she made sandwiches and they ate lunch together. After lunch, he took them off again and put them away, and she didn't make any further comment about it. The way she saw it, if it made him happy and it hadn't done him any harm, who was she to question it?

Slightly amused at the memory, she wonders how many more times she'll catch him with his skates on between now and the middle of May. She doubts it was a one-off, and she has no trouble conjuring up a mental image of him contentedly wearing his skates while he reads, or eats, or writes something for the new online blog he's created to chronicle his coaching journey.

She smiles. She's watched him grow from an impulsive and sometimes silly teenager into a mature and responsible adult, but it's gratifying to know that he hasn't completely lost his adolescent whimsy. In some ways, he's still very much a kid, and she thinks those qualities of playfulness, imagination, resilience and courage will serve him well, not just as a coach and teacher but in his personal life too. He may be going through an exceptionally difficult time at the moment, but she can see the light at the end of this dark tunnel and she's sure he can as well.

He's going to be all right, she tells herself. It's still going to take time, but he sees the way forward now, and I don't believe anything's going to stop him.

She doesn't have enough words to describe how much she admires him for that.

This morning, she'd awakened with a sense of lightness she hasn't felt in a while. Her concerns are all still there, of course, but she has the feeling this is going to be a great day despite all the problems and worries crowded at the back of her mind.

That stuff can wait.

Now that Nikolai is off his crutches, she decides today is the perfect day to get him off the bench and let him come down onto the ice with her. She can introduce him to all the kids and let him interact with them. He knows Stan's grandson Marek, and she's certain he's already bonded with little Eden, but he still hasn't met the girls, Everleigh, Madison and Sienna. There's also her Saturday preschool group for him to meet, and her two Novice division students, Katie and Ruby. She hopes all the kids like him as much as Eden seems to, both for his comfort and theirs.

She climbs out of bed and does her best to hurry through her morning routine. Regardless of her efforts, however, when she makes her way downstairs, she discovers that Nikolai has gotten out of bed ahead of her. He's already showered, dressed and in the middle of making breakfast. The scent of coffee wafts across her nostrils.

"Morning, coach," he greets her. "Your makeup looks good."

"Thanks." She gestures toward the stove. "I see my cooking lessons are already paying off."

He grins. "Well, I'm not ready to host my own cooking show or anything yet, but I think I'm doing all right."

She's treated to her favourite ham and cheese omelette, fried potatoes, and cut-up red grapefruit drizzled with honey. It may not be gourmet, but it is delicious and she enjoys every bite. It's especially pleasant to sit down to a meal she didn't have to prepare for herself.

"I could get used to this," she says, as she savours the final bite of grapefruit. "You making us breakfast, I mean."

"We can make it a regular thing," he says. “Turns out I like cooking. It’s not as daunting as I thought, so I’m sure I could be in charge of making breakfast for us.”

"Oh? So I take it you've changed your mind about going home?"

He swallows the last of his coffee and sets the mug down carefully. "I've been thinking about it. I was kind of worried that me being here was too much for you, but if you're okay with me staying, maybe I will stay."

"You're not too much. I like having you here. It's nice to have company, but like I told you before, the choice is entirely up to you."

"I'll stay for a little longer, then," he says. "Anya's staying with her grandparents for some reason. I don't know if she's planning to go home soon, but if she is, I... kinda don't want to be there."

"Understandable, but you know you'll need to deal with that situation at some point."

"I know." He rotates the empty coffee mug between his hands. "I think I'm just scared."

"Of Anya?"

He nods. "Is that stupid?"

"No, I don't think so," Beth-Anne says. "I can see how she'd be scary."

"I want a divorce, but I don't want to fight about it. All I want is the house and my cat. She can have anything else she wants. Money, furniture, the car... whatever. I just want us to live separate lives from now on."

"If you want my opinion, you'd be better off living separate lives."

"It's obvious we can't have a life together any more," he says. "The problem is, I don't want to talk to her about it because I'm scared she'll cause a scene."

"In that case, maybe you shouldn't talk about it with her. Maybe you should hire a lawyer and get them to do the talking for you."

"Maybe." He runs his thumb along the rim of his mug and doesn't meet Beth-Anne's eyes. "I just don't want any drama. You know I hate that. If I got a lawyer, I'm worried the whole thing would drag on for ages, and Anya would tell everybody about everything, every chance she got. I'd rather just agree that it's over, do the court paperwork ourselves and get it out of the way as quickly as we can."

"If that's what you want, then you'll have to swallow your fear and tell her," Beth-Anne says. "I know it's hard, but you have to believe in getting what you want. That's..."

"...that's part of how you succeed," he finishes the sentence with her. All of a sudden, he's smiling again. "You know, I told Eden that."

Perplexed, she says. "About... divorce?"

"No, about winning skating competitions. Remember, you said that to me for the first time way back when I was seventeen? When I was having that big existential crisis because you were my third coach in my first three years at Senior level.”

"You thought the problem was you."

"Well, it sort of was, according to Uncle Stan."

"But it was because you were too good, not because you weren't good enough," she reminds him.

“I know that now, but it was a struggle to get my head around it at the time. The whole thing was pretty stressful.”

"I know, but you handled it like a champion, and it didn’t take you long to settle in with me.”

“Because you promised you’d stick with me no matter what, and I trusted you. I felt safe with you. That gave me a lot of confidence, and it let me relax and enjoy myself a lot more."

“I remember. One of the first things I asked you was what you wanted, and the first thing you told me wasn't that you wanted to win. You said you wanted to be happy and have fun."

"Yeah, but I still wanted to win. I wanted it really bad, and I was frustrated because I wasn't doing as well as I thought I should with Uncle Stan or my other coach before him."

"I could tell you wanted to win," she says. "I can tell you still do."

"I do," he concedes. "Winning might look different now, but I still want to. I think if I can help somebody else the way you helped me, that'll feel like winning to me just as much as it does to them."

"I think it will too," Beth-Anne says. "It did for me when I watched you win, and it's the same with Brett and Mariah and the others."

"And they'll be more likely to win if they're happy and having fun, right?"

"Right."

"But, even if they don't win, the important thing is that they're still doing what they enjoy."

Beth-Anne nods. "You're going to be an excellent coach."

"I hope so," he says. "I want to make you proud."

"I'm already proud of you," she tells him. "You're the best son I never had."

He smiles. "The son you always wanted?"

"Not always, but definitely from the moment I realized my life would be a lot emptier without you in it," she says. "And I'm glad you're staying."

"Until I finish my coaching courses at least, if that's all right."

"Absolutely. Consider this your home for as long as you like."

"Thanks," he says.

They finish their breakfast and do the washing up as quickly as they can, and manage to get out the door right on schedule. Even with a stop at Tim Horton's for more coffee, they make it to the arena at 7:45 on the dot.

It's still not early enough to get there before her first students arrive, though.

She's torn between laughter and exasperation when she spots Eden Seong and Marek Zelenka peeking around the edge of the propped-open door from the corridor that leads to one of the practice rinks. When Marek sees her, he gives her a brief wave. Then, he leans down to say something quietly to Eden, which Beth-Anne can’t hear. The kids grin at each other.

The next thing Beth-Anne knows, the two little boys charge through the doorway and race across the foyer, straight toward her and Nikolai. They’re both shouting Nikolai's name at the top of their voices.

Nikolai reaches out to catch Marek, but both boys seem to misinterpret the movement as an invitation for a group hug. Somehow, Nikolai ends up sitting on the floor with Marek and Eden half on top of him and looking like they're competing to see who's more capable of squishing him. All three of them are laughing.

"Nikolai, it worked!" Eden practically yells.

"Yeah!" Marek chimes in. "I don't know what you said, but it totally worked!"

Beth-Anne isn't entirely sure what Eden and Marek are talking about, but she doesn't get a chance to ask before someone else appears in the doorway. It's Stan. He has a small skate bag in each hand, and several wisps of silver hair escaping from his stubby ponytail. If she didn't know better, she'd say he slept in the sweatpants and long sleeved t-shirt he's wearing.

Stan jogs over to them. "I see the chaos has manifested," he says, nodding at Nikolai, Marek and Eden. "I believe these are yours now."

"Thanks. I'm so excited," Beth-Anne says, deadpan, but she's fighting like hell to hold her laughter in and keep her face neutral. Stan looks as if he can't wait to make Marek and Eden someone else's responsibility, and she's dying to know the story behind why he has both of them, and why they're here so early.

Stan holds out the skate carriers. "Boys. Your responsibilities..."

Marek and Eden scramble to their feet. Eden takes the purple skate bag from Stan's left hand and Marek claims the blue and white one from his right.

Eden cradles his skates against his chest with both arms as if he's holding something incredibly precious. He beams at Nikolai. "You fixed everything."

"I'm glad it worked out," Nikolai says, as Stan steps forward to give him a hand up. "But I'm sure it wasn't all me. I'd say Beth-Anne had something to do with it, and I think you must've been fairly persuasive on your own."

It clicks for Beth-Anne at that moment. Nikolai must've talked to Eden's parents about his future as a skater. She hadn't realized he'd talked to them, and she guesses he must've done it the previous Saturday when they came to pick Eden up after class. She'd noticed them arriving and she'd been peripherally aware of Eden leading Nikolai out of the rink area to meet them, but she hadn't interacted with them herself as she'd been occupied with setting things up for her preschool group.

It hadn't been until later in the week, after what she thought would be Eden's next-to-last individual lesson, that she'd gotten the opportunity to bring up Eden's athletic career with them again. They seemed to have softened their position, but they still hadn't completely made up their minds at that point. Evidently, they'd given it significant consideration since then.

"No, it was definitely you, Nikolai," Eden insists. "Mommy said she was sorry because she didn't think about it from my point of view. She said she and Dad were too worried about something bad happening to me on the ice to see that something even worse would happen if they made me quit. And I think part of it was 'cause they really listened when you told them how sad and depressed you were when you thought you wouldn't be able to skate any more."

Beth-Anne turns toward Nikolai. "You told Mr. and Mrs. Seong that?"

"Yeah," Nikolai admits. "I don't know if that was overstepping, but I felt like I had to try to convince them. I didn't really know how to approach it, so I just... went with honesty."

"You probably should've mentioned it to me," Beth-Anne says.

"Sorry. It actually didn't occur to me."

"It's okay," she says. "Just let me know next time if you feel the need to speak to one of my students' family members."

"I will," he says. "But, it really didn't cross my mind to say anything about last Saturday. I assumed you would've seen me talking to Eden's parents. We were in the hallway, right outside the windows."

"Never assume anything," she says, and to Eden she asks, "Should I expect to have another chat with your mom and dad today?"

"Yeah!" Eden says enthusiastically. "Mommy told me yesterday after school that I can keep skating, and she said she'd discuss everything with you today."

"Then he called me, 'cause he was so excited," Marek adds. "And I was excited too, so I invited him for a sleepover, so we could celebrate."

"You invited both of you for a sleepover at Grandma and Grandpa's house," Stan interjects. "Don't forget that important detail, Marek."

"I see," Beth-Anne says. "That explains why you look like you can't wait to pass them off to me."

"We had to go to Grandpa's house," Marek explains. "My parents aren't really into skating, but Grandpa gets it."

"The only thing Grandpa wants to get right now is a couple more hours' sleep," Stan says.

"Don't you have a group class this morning, Stan?" Beth-Anne asks.

"Hmm... at nine, but that gives me an hour or so to nap in the car. I might've been able to keep up with these two living hurricanes when I was your age, but us old people need proper rest, you know."

"Old people," Beth-Anne scoffs. "You can still run circles around most of us. But, go on. Nikolai and I can take these two from here."

Each of the boys grabs one of Nikolai's hands, and they start to pull him in the direction of the other practice rink. Marek glances back at his grandfather. "Yeah, don't worry Grandpa. We'll take it from here."

"Hmph. 'Don't worry, Grandpa' is a phrase that should be banned," Stan grumbles.

"Everything'll be fine, Uncle Stan," says Nikolai. "I've got them."

"Another phrase that should be illegal; 'Everything'll be fine, Uncle Stan'."

Marek's only response is a mischievous giggle, and Nikolai makes an inelegant snorting noise in his effort not to laugh.

Beth-Anne stands back and watches for a few seconds as Nikolai and the boys make their way across the foyer. He's definitely won their hearts, and it's already clear that little Eden has won his. She doesn't want to get ahead of herself, but she's thrilled at the news that Eden will be allowed to keep skating, and she envisions an amazing future for him in the sport.

For him and Nikolai. If ever two people were meant to be together as coach and student...

No. Don't let your imagination run away with you. One day at a time, and one step at a time, don't forget.

But, she can't completely suppress her elation. She'd woken up with the feeling that today would be great, and so far it's turning out exactly that way. She's glad of it. After making it through the turmoil of the last several weeks, she and Nikolai deserve to have a good day.

Stan steps up beside her and drapes an arm around her shoulders. "Well, he's a natural, isn't he? Your Nikolai, I mean. He's a hit with the kids."

"It would seem so," she agrees, smiling.

"I told you it'd all work out, didn't I?" He gives her shoulder an affectionate squeeze. "Don't worry. Everything will be fine."

#writing #the art of redemption #theartofredemption #beth-anne jones #nikolai pavlenko #eden seong #stan kovac #stargazersims

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days-until-burnout · 5 months ago

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Day 12 -

Characters - Pearl & Lizzie & Etho (Joel mention) Words - 1,151 Time - 60 mins Content - Hybrid/Flight AU | hurt/comfort

It had been a while.

A very long while.

When she looked out of the windows, she saw nothing but clouds. Covering every inch of earth under her. All white and fluffy, nothing that would break her fall if she… Well, when she jumped.

A knot stuck on her throat, making it incredibly hard to breathe, which in turn made her panic, and panicking was the last thing she needed when she was too many feet above ground. She clutched at the front of her jumpsuit, felt her thundering heart against the knuckle of her ring finger, the button pressed against her closed palm. It was sweaty suddenly, her palm, a cold rushed down her back then heated up right after.

Her wings twitched.

She was scared.

In the background, white noise to her ears, the radio came online. The conversation went on without her output, coordinates and updates she couldn’t afford to think about. Her whole being vibrated with the helicopter, as one and apart, heavy on her seat. Maybe she wasn’t made for this, for the adrenaline of flying, and maybe she was better off on land where she would never touch the clouds and the sky again. It was safer on land, away from the world she was made to conquer.

She couldn’t do this.

“SL-17 stand-by.”

Pearl lowered her hand, clutching onto the seatbelt across her chest, the thing keeping her safe when her wings cowered like her. Her vision was hazy until she found a head of pink, seated on the captain’s seat, handling the vehicle with refined skill. There was a calmness yet authority in her movements, every flicker of switch, every button pressed, every slight tilt of the yoke. Lizzie was the captain, this was her terrain.

“Lizzie– I can’t– I don’t think I can do this—”

“What? Of course you can, Pearl. You’ve been training for months, almost two years even. You are ready.”

Her throat closed. She felt dizzy. The world was spinning suddenly, and she was unstable on her seat. Her heart was shattering too, piece by piece at the realization that she was letting down their whole crew, everyone who had part-taken in her recovery, in her physiotherapy so she could come back to this. To the skies, to the world where she belonged— All of them, she was letting all of them down.

And most importantly, she was failing her pilot, her partner. Lizzie deserved better. She couldn’t do better.

She couldn’t do this.

“SL-12 speaking. SL-17, do you copy?”

Pearl pried her eyes away, looked down at her lap, her white-knuckled fist.

“SL-17 back online,” Lizzie greeted back, calmly, like there wasn’t something they needed to talk about soon, “update? Please say Joel waited for clearance before jumping.”

A chuckle. Pearl tried to not throw up.

“Negative. There is nothing stopping Joel from… you know.”

Lizzie laughed, “Yeah. Hey, Etho? Got a minute?”

There was a pause. Pearl closed her eyes, tried to imagine she was on ground. It’d be time soon. To make her decision. Fail everyone who had been cheering for her, or… fly again.

“Sure. I’ll keep around in the air regardless. Joel is going to try fly back in in a while, so you’ve got me here for a while.” Pearl wanted to grab Lizzie’s headset, beg him to fly her down, she couldn’t do this. She wanted to go home and curl up in her bed, never to see sunlight again. There were jobs that would allow that, she could completely flip her sleep schedule, there were options other than this.

“It’s Pearl. She said she can’t.”

“Can’t? Is her wing hurting? Feeling sick?”

“I don’t know. She said she thinks she can’t do this. What should I do, Etho?”

A pause. Pearl wanted to cry. All this time wasted. She almost wished her wing had never healed. Would it have been better, then, to lose something she loved? Because she loved this, flying. Being in the sky. Would she give all this up? She couldn’t decide. Couldn’t say it.

“I will fly down too, then. Meet you on ground.”

“Wait!”

Another pause. She wanted to force herself, move her body. She wanted to so badly. But there was a block in her mind, in her actions, something that stopped her from doing it, doing this.

“It’s alright, Pearl,” Etho said on the other side, a softennes in his voice she didn’t deserve, “we can talk on ground. Just hang in there. Joel and I will meet you two shortly; SL-12 out.”

It happened too quickly. The call ended, and in a blink, they were on ground. She wanted to apologize to Lizzie, wanted to cry at the pity looks others gave her, wanted to go home and forget about her failure. Her wings clung tightly to her back, almost wishing to not be. She hated the feeling. Hated hating a part of herself like that. Her mind was a mess. She wasn’t ready. She wasn’t ready.

When she looked at Lizzie, her pilot, her companion, her partner, the tears didn’t wait, spilling out soon after. She walked over, wrapped her arms around her, whispered reassurances she wanted to believe. It was okay. Everything was fine. They would try again tomorrow.

Pearl hugged Lizzie tight, falling to pieces in her arms. Her words, her apologies were hiccups. All broken in sobs, her soul tearing apart at the seems.

“You are okay,” Lizzie said softly, running her fingers through her hair, soothing. “No one is mad at you. We couldn’t possibly be. It’s hard, isn’t it? Going back up there after so long. I know, Pearl, I know, it’s okay. We will try again tomorrow. And the day after, and the day after, and we will keep trying until you can. I know you can, we know you can. It’s only a matter of time. And we have time to wait.”

There were footsteps. Lizzie let go with lingering touches, a hand caressing her face, a thumb wiping the tears. Then another set of arms wrapped around her, tightly. She cried on Etho’s shoulder, Lizzie’s hand finding its way to her shoulder. She wished she could do more, be better. They deserved better, more than this. She was a failure, how could she not be? She failed them. Failed everyone. Failed herself.

‘You need to rest.’

‘Do I have to? I’m fine, you know. It’s just my wing.’

A headshake. A smile.

‘Hey, doctor’s orders. Don’t look at me.’

She sighs. ‘When do you think I’ll be ready?’

‘Hm? To fly? I guess when your wing heals.’

‘I can’t wait. I miss it. Being up there. I can’t wait.’

They laugh. They lay down. Stare at the clear sky. She raises her hand to the sky, closes her fist on the sun.

“Let’s go home,” Etho whispered into her hair. She could only nod.

_____

so this was supposed to be a tom cruise moment, but uh, well, i wrote too slowly and got too distracted with the doubt and ran out of time. replaces your happy go luck action scene with sad i guess 😭 anyways, this will for sure have a continuation because my girl pearl will fly again goddamnit. for now, we ignore the lore because there is no lore, absolutely not :] also, well, this was supposed to be pearl/lizzie but i ran out of time 🧍‍♂️ justice for my girls damn

#pearlescentmoon #ldshadowlady #ethoslab #day 12

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a-scary-lack-of-common-sense · 1 year ago

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Hiya! Just yeeting a hc at you: I've always Headcanoned that Scout usually went with the Bat/frying pan due to shaky hands or smth. Could be caused by anything. But probably from the amount of energy that guy has is the most possible-

Hey bestie!! I wanted to answer this with a little doodle, but I can't really draw anything atm since it's nearly midnight for me. HOWEVER, I will share with you some of the research I did on hand tremors!

Disclaimer ⚠️: I myself am not a mobility aid user, nor do I personally experience hand tremors. I do not claim to know everything on the topic, and may be incorrect or wrong in some cases! If you'd like to know more, I highly encourage you do your own research!! Ofc, if you happen to know more than I do, feel free to correct me where I'm wrong :) and have fun reading!

I really like ur idea on the bat/frying pan for Scout! It does make sense for him to perfer those particular melees with hand tremors, since the small triggers on guns might be a bit fiddly to deal with. Maybe for the frying pan he'd have to wrap the handle so it's a bit thicker, and easier to hold! Like those big rubber grippers for utensils you can order online

Your ask made me think about what other things Scout might use/do in order to live with his tremors as comfortably as he can. I imagine he'll have to attend occasional physiotherapy sessions with Medic, to practice resistance training and working his muscles to help get steadier hands!

Of course, this also all depends on what kind of tremors Scout is experiencing, but since you said shaky hands, I'm going to guess Essential tremor, maybe? Essential tremor is one of the most common movement disorder, and it causes tremors mainly around the arms or hands, although it can also affect the head, voice, or other areas of the body. Essential tremor can be mild, or severe, depending on the person. I'm sure you weren't actually thinking about a specific type of tremor when sending in this ask, so I'm probably over-thinking this, but it's still interesting to learn!

I also think Scout would have to probably get a lil checkup after battles, especially since hand tremors usually worsen after intakes of caffeine (and Scout’s gotta be chugging that BONK all battle), and obviously after a bloody battle there's gonna be leftover adrenaline too. All of that combined means a lot of shaky hands, so off to the Doc he goes to de-stress!

There are also some mobility aids that help with tremors that Scout could use! Such as these braces/gloves (??) That dempens tremors. Now, I'm not sure how exactly these work, and I've never personally used them before, so their actual effectiveness is beyond me; but according to what I've read, they're apparently pretty helpful at stabilizing the hand (if only somewhat)

From what I understand, some of them are simply weighted gloves that you strap onto your hand, such as the ones shown in the second and third picture, but some have tiny little sensors in them that counteract against the tremors to "cancel out" the shaking?? (I probably didn't word that right)

Anyways, I had a lot of fun exploring more tf2 merc disability headcanons with y'all, and I hope you had fun too!! Sorry to anon for dumping this massive answer on you, you probably just wanted a simple doodle :')

If you happen to know more on the subject, or have personal experience, please do share and correct me if I got anything wrong!

Love you all! <33

#tf2 #team fortress two #long post #disability #mobility aid #tf2 scout #disabilitymercs #silly chatters

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nina-kecmanovic · 1 month ago

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I don't know how to start

I never knew how to start a conversation. I used to think I had a bunch of online friends, but I can still remember when, by sheer chance, I found their messages what a strange and downright disturbing person I was. But that wasn't the only time.

My family thinks so.

My longtime physical therapist says I may have Asperger's syndrome.

My psychologist, on the other hand, with whom I have online appointments, says I'm fine. Unfortunately, I still have to have these sessions with her, at least until the end of this year, because the charity she works for is sponsoring part of my physical therapy this year (the other part with a different physical therapist is sponsored by the state, but I may tell you about that another day)

💮💮💮💮

How about I introduce myself? That's pretty much where I should start.

I am Nina,I am 19 years old. I have been NEET since April. Perhaps I am a bit justified by the fact that I am physically disabled since birth,I have cerebral palsy. That's why I walk on crutches, sometimes I also use a wheelchair. Soon I will use a wheelchair more often. On Sunday, I am going to a intense two-week physiotherapy with my mother. In the sense, my mother will be my caregiver. For the first time in a long time, we will be going by train and not by car. Today I upgraded my ticket to one that allows me to board the train in a wheelchair, so I won't have to climb the difficult train stairs. Of course, I'm constantly worried that something will go wrong, such as being left alone in the car at the train station.I am very afraid of being left alone in the car and this makes my life very difficult and I am very ashamed of it. I am also afraid that something organizationally will go wrong. For example, that the promised travel assistant won't show up,or that I won't be able to board the train with the wheelchair. I am so terribly afraid! But maybe it's the usual stess? Or fatigue? Today I finally had about four hours of rehabilitation.

Okay, I've complained a bit,but I feel that if I continue to talk about it it will upset myself even more.

💮💮💮💮

Who am I crushed on? Why exactly at him? I don't know. Although I can tell you what his name is.

Kosta Kecmanovic,age 15, he is the one who caused the school shooting in Serbia.

I don't know him, nor does he know me.

I feel terrible about this foolish crush. First of all, we don't even know each other. Secondly, he committed a terrible crime, and unlike the rest of his female fans, I am not going to make excuses for him. Thirdly he is younger than me by a good couple of years and I feel very bad about it, like a criminal,Fourthly despite everything I feel very sorry for his victims and their families, unlike other Kosta fans I do not insult them, because that would be pure disrespect. I sympathize with them very much and feel downright guilty seeing their pain in their eyes.

At the same time, I can't help feeling that Kosta and I are very similar in terms of personality. We are both loners, who even if they have some friends. Kosta seems to have had one. I, for one, am not sure if I have any. Admittedly, I have an online friend,but I very rarely speak to her. I don't think I need much contact with her. I guess I just don't know how to take much interest in others. Unless I'm obsessed with someone,like I am with Kosta or used to be with my former physical therapists. I'll talk about them a little later.

I guess quite a bit to my obsession with Kosta,it's probably fueled by my use of the character.ai app. I practically text with AI characters created based on Kosta. The content is very diverse. Maybe someday I'll talk about it.

💮💮💮💮

I borrowed the book "The tearsmith" And I regret it,because on this intensive physical therapy I will not have the strength to read after all these exercises. I know because I have been to such intensive physical therapy many times and never had the strength to read in the evenings.

💮💮💮💮

In November I'm going to another intensive physical therapy,this time for a week. To the city where those physiotherapists I was obsessed with moved. In fact, no surprise that I liked them very much. Thanks to them I started walking on crutches. I also have common interests with them, such as Japanese pop culture. I've even been to their house. Yet somewhere in April of this year I was over it. A part thanks to my former blog on Tumblr, a part I guess time was doing its part, because two years ago I had my last physical therapy session with them.In fact, I don't know why I texted J. (He's one of those physiotherapists) That I would be in their city, albeit in a completely different part of it. J stated that we might be able to meet. I don't know what to feel. Since April I was almost sure that they didn't care about me. Or is it that I don't care about them anymore?

I don't know. Maybe I am heartless?

💮💮💮💮

Okay, I'm done for the day. And so I've already elaborated a bit. In fact, I'm typing this post for the second day because I had an internet outage yesterday. I have a bit of a sore throat and I hope it's just something psychosomatic because I can't keep before I go to physical therapy.

Take care. I don't know when I will write another post. Maybe during my stay in intensive physical therapy? Or maybe once I'm back home?

#diary #physiotherapy #physically disabled #physical disability #physical therapy #cerebral palsy #ambulatory wheelchair user #wheelchair #crutches #unrequited love #unrequited crush #fatal crush #train #crush on younger boy #kosta kecmanović #Belgrade school shooting #Serbia school shooting #neurodivergent #character ai

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ephysioneedsacademy · 4 months ago

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kloppinthekop · 10 months ago

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꧁ hello! ꧂

amy ᝰ ❧ scorpio sun and moon, she/they, grey-ace, 30s

i support liverpool f.c. (epl) and mclaren (f1). faves include: dominik szoboszlai, lando norris, oscar piastri, and carlos sainz jr.

→ formula 1 sideblog: carlandoscars ←

i have a ph.d. in english literature, specializing in science fiction, but i really only write for fun these days.

other interests include: kate bush (queen of my heart), goth and post punk music/subculture, horror and sci-fi films, jane austen, mary shelley (i am always ready to bring frankenstein into any conversation), orphan black, star trek, studio ghibli, and more.

a masterlist of my fics and other scribblings are below the cut! a gentle reminder that i do not take requests for fics; however, headcanons are welcome and my askbox is open!

you can find most of my fics on archive of our own (ao3). some may be archive-locked (only viewable to users who are logged in on ao3). fics are sorted by type, ship/pairing, and then alphabetically listed within each category (for the most part). ratings are indicated in parentheses next to each title. if you are under the age of 18, please do not interact with any mature/explicit fics. full list of tags and any potential content warnings are available on ao3. masterlist to be updated periodically.

꧁DOMITRENT꧂ (dominik szoboszlai/trent alexander arnold)

dream come true (M, eventually E) 𝔰𝔱𝔞𝔱𝔲𝔰 ➾ [work in progress]

→ Dominik, whose dreams of becoming a professional football player ended years ago due to injury, has dedicated himself to a new passion: physiotherapy. After moving to Liverpool to complete his studies, he meets Trent, a local lad whose dream of playing in the first team is about to come true. But what if, in meeting one another, their dreams become intertwined?

꧁HENDOLLANA꧂ (jordan henderson/adam lallana)

borne in red (E; dubcon) → In a world where men have been discovered to be infertile, the few men who are not sterile are forced into service of Captains and their Wives. Adam Lallana is one of these "studs," also known as Reds. He is also, dangerously, in love with men. Over a course of Ceremonies, he discovers that his Captain has a secret, and that his proclivities may be indeed similar to Adam's own desires…

A Hendollana AU based on Margaret Atwood's novel, The Handmaid's Tale.

⟡ by chapter: chapter one: waiting | chapter two: discovering | chapter three: being | chapter four: waiting | chapter five: coda

꧁DOMITRENT꧂ (dominik szoboszlai/trent alexander arnold)

we lit the fire and it's burning bright (E) → After the Liverpool vs Manchester City game (where Trent scores the equaliser), Dom takes Trent back to his apartment and proceeds to take him apart with his hands and lips.

working on the riddle of your heart (E) → Dominik can’t stop thinking about Trent. Ever since pre-season training, he has been obsessed. God, Dominik wants to be possessed by Trent.

you're out there killing the game (E) → Trent gets his arse out for all to see, but Dom wants it to be just his.

꧁CARRAVILLE꧂ (jamie carragher/gary neville)

gary knows; or, gary the fool in liverpool (T) → Liverpool’s lost the league, and Gary’s lost his damn mind.

a christmas carraville (merry crimbo, ye big lug) (G) → God I love him, but my husband is an idiot, Jamie thinks. In which Gary Neville and Jamie Carragher are married, but Gary doesn't know it yet.

champagne supernova (happy new year, ye tosser) (T) → It's New Year's Eve, and all Carra can think about is whether a certain Manc will kiss him at midnight. Maybe a little liquid courage will help light the way.

package deal (it's valentine's day, ye dimwit) (E) → Gary's got a Valentine’s date with an idiot.

꧁GERLONSO꧂ (steven gerrard/xabi alonso)

days of legends past (G) → "When you left, it broke my heart." Three vignettes related to various and sundry myths and legends.

꧁HENDOLLANA꧂ (jordan henderson/adam lallana)

fools in love (G; archive-locked) → aka, five times that other people noticed Jordan and Adam were dating before they did, and one time they finally realize that they’ve been a couple all along.

hounds of love (G; archive-locked) → Jordan's not sure what his soulmark will be yet, but what he does know is that he's terrified. A slow-burn soulmate AU.

merry to go 'round (G; archive-locked) → The lads buy a house together at the end of the 2026 World Cup campaign, and not a single one of their teammates (former teammates now) are surprised.

soft lad (E; archive-locked) → Five-hundred twenty-five thousand six-hundred minutes… it took a span of two pre-seasons for Hendo to realize that he was in love.

vignettes: tickertape (G; archive-locked) → After the trophy lift, Hendo searches for a tangible piece of memory…

vignettes: turf (G; archive-locked) → Lallana leaving LFC, but choosing a certain squad number for familiarity…

꧁OTHER SHIPS꧂

put myself on a pedestal - virgil van dijk/jarell quansah (E) → After the Union Saint-Gilloise match, Jarell says some things to the press that perhaps ought not to have been said. It's Virgil's job to educate him. But perhaps there are things that Virgil also ought not to say out loud… Then, Jarell comes over to his house one night after training, and Virgil finds a more effective way to stop Jarell from saying stupid things.

eu sou... - eric dier/dele alli (G; archive-locked) → Dele is um idiota but so is Eric. Pining ensues. footballers watch: eurovision 2019 - multi-ship (G; archive-locked) → What it says on the tin. [Pairings include: Carraville, Hendollana, Gerlonso, Deledier, and other random cameos.]

꧁GEN FICS꧂

klopp in the kop, forever - jürgen klopp (G) → Jürgen Klopp, the normal one, is about to live a normal life, for the first time in his life.

vignettes: takumi (G; archive-locked) → Second day at Anfield • Daemon!fic aka His Dark Materials/Football RPF

⟡ domitrent headcanon - who's naughtier, domi or trent?

⟡ domitrent headcanon - valentine's day

⟡ domitrent headcanon - who fell first

⟡ domitrent headcanon - dealing with injuries

⟡ domitrent headcanon - sex positions

⟡ domi and trent headcanons - fashion styles, shopping habits

⟡ domi, trent and jude headcanons - jealousy

⟡ trent and jude headcanons - food habits, sweet tooth

⟡ cheeky - domitrent

⟡ the prince and the scouser - domitrent

⟡ queen's gambit AU - domitrent

⟡ anfield is a cauldron - gen!fic

dividers created by @cafekitsune | other graphics resources

#pinned post #about me #masterlist #fic masterlist #my fics #fanfiction #football rpf #ao3 #fanfic #domitrent #gerlonso #carraville #hendollana #virgil/jarell #liverpool fc #liverpool #kloppinthekop #blog intro

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rachiqueen · 2 months ago

Text

RACHI 👑💅

Ｓｋｅｌｅｔｏｎ

>> FULL NAME: Mongkut Rachini "Rachi" Putri Xithṭhi >> MEANING: Mongkut - Thai meaning 'crown' // Rachini - Thai Origin; ราชินี; meaning 'queen' // Putri - Indonesian; 'princess' // Xithṭhi - Thai Origin; อิทธิ; meaning 'prosperity' >> NICKNAME: Rachi // Putri (by his mother) // Mommy by Chai >> DATE OF BIRTH: 3rd of August, 1995, Thursday, Morning>> AGE: 29 y/o >> SIGN: Leo ♌️ >> ORIENTATION: Homosexual >> RELIGION: Buddhist, not big on practising >> GENDER: Cisgender Male >> UNIVERSE: 404 Error

Ａｐｐｅａｒａｎｃｅ

>> FACE CLAIM: Nut Supanut Lourhaphanich >> HEIGHT: 185 cm // >> WEIGHT: 69 kg // >> HAIR: Brown // Styled >> EYES: Brown >> CLOTHING: Flashy // Revealing // Heels // Designer // Jewellery // Make-Up // Wears 'fetish' clothing in public, sometimes visible, sometimes hidden (eg, chokers, chains, attachable cuffs, latex, gags under facemasks, toys, cock rings, chastity cages, etc) >> OTHER: Back dimples // Tall // Long legs // Slender // Multiple Ear Piercings // Nipple Piercings // Navel Piercing // Prince-Albert Piercing

Ｐｅｒｓｏｎａｌｉｔｙ

>> STRENGTHS: Creative, passionate, generous, warm-hearted, cheerful, humorous >> WEAKNESSES: Arrogant, stubborn, self-centred, lazy, inflexible >> LIKES: Theatre, taking holidays, being admired, expensive things, bright colours, fun with friends >> DISLIKES: Being ignored, facing difficult reality, not being treated like a king or queen

Ｂａｃｋｇｒｏｕｎｄ

>> HOMETOWN: Bangkok, Thailand >> RESIDENCE: A condo in Bangkok that he owns >> NATIONALITY: Thai >> ETHNICITY: Thai // Asian >> FINANCIAL STATUS: Does well for himself (mid-to-high) >> EDUCATION: Physiotherapy at Chulalongkorn University (possibly dropped out, TBA) // Pilates and Yoga Training Course (Online) // Qualified to train others >> OCCUPATION: Personal coach // Trains models // Has his own studio // Social media influencer >> SPOKEN LANGUAGES: Thai // English // Bahasa Indonesian // A little Malay // A little Japanese

Ｒｅｌａｔｉｏｎｓｈｉｐｓ

>> FAMILY TREE: Lertchai (father, Thai) // Asmara (mother, Indonesian) >> PETS: None >> ROMANCES:

Rachi has many past lovers, though none of them ever stuck around. Their role in the relationship was an act, their feelings for Rachi non-existent, with their priorities lying mainly in the man's body and what it could do for them. Break-ups came out of nowhere, with Rachi on the receiving end of all of them, causing the man to become despondent when it came to finding a partner. He'd often complain to Dan, who has heard every. single. one. of Rachi's love-life and sex-life stories.

Currently, Rachi's 'romances' include a plethora of men from the escort services he uses. He's found out that while it can by costly, he'd rather sleep with people who he won't become emotionally attached to in order to spare himself any further heartache. Plus, escorts are usually fine with his more devious desires, and are willing to play with him in the way he likes.

>> PLATONIC:

Dan Sangchareon, 30M, childhood best friend

Rachi and Dan have been best friends since childhood. They know each other better than anyone, from their fears to their desires. They're incredibly close, with people around them often mistaking them as being in a relationship.

Chai Sarinawat, 23M, friend

Rachi met Chai at the younger man's workplace at the time, where he was working behind a bar at a nightclub Rachi visited on a whim. They got to talking - there's no better person than a bartender to talk to - and hit it off quickly. Chai was drawn in by Rachi's confidence and carefree spirit, and Rachi immediately felt a need to protect and watch over the young, down-on-his-luck man. They have a good relationship, jokingly calling each other "mommy(mummy)" and "baby/son/child". Rachi helped Chai get a job as Dan's assistant, after seeing him struggle to make ends meet. He knows that Chai has been in an abusive relationship and is terrified of seeing his ex, but does not know to what extent.

>> BACKSTORY:

Rachi was born to Lertchai and Asmara in Bangkok, Thailand. His father owns the 'Victory Gym' company and manages various gyms and fitness centres across Thailand and has a few across Asia, including Japan, Malaysia, and Indonesia. His mother is a women's only fitness instructor. The two bonded over a passion for fitness and exercise, keeping in touch even when Lertchai was travelling to other countries in Asia to manage his company.

The two eventually fell in love and married, having a destination wedding in Indonesia and another ceremony in Thailand.

When Asmara was pregnant with Rachi, the tests all came out that she and Lertchai were having a baby girl. They had the name 'princess' picked out in Indonesian and Thai; however, Rachi came out a boy. Lertchai changed his name to Mongkut instead, meaning 'crown'. As Rachi grew up, his mother recognised immediately that her little boy was a little princess too, and so gave him the nickname 'Putri'. Rachi is only called Putri by his mother, Mongkut by his father, and introduces himself as Rachini or Rachi to everyone else.

He has a good relationship with his parents, who are based in Bangkok but travel a lot throughout Asia for his father's company. While he doesn't like working out at the gym, he does love cardio fitness like his mother, helping instruct yoga and pilates classes. His father also helped him open his own studio in Thailand, where he's currently building his career as a trainer for models and actresses, as well as occasionally providing light fitness services for others. Ｅｘｔｒａｓ

>> FEARS: Rodents >> PHOBIAS: Bugs, especially cockroaches >> HANDICAPS: N/A >> MENTAL DISORDERS: N/A >> PHYSICAL DISEASES: N/A >> PREDISPOSITIONS: Alcoholism

#rachi/timeline

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