#champion tutor

[championtutorsg]

If you're looking for tips on how to get good scores in  o-level exams, this is the video for you! We'll give you some practical tips that you can use to help your child succeed in exams. With a little effort, you can make a big difference in your child's O-level skills. 

#O level exams #tutor #champion tutor #tutoring servies

[phoenixcatch7]

Something I love about the implications of the new ‘elemental’ weapons in totk is the idea that link is powering these things himself.

Like, in the first game the weapons were always on - they powered up whether they were being held or sheathed or even dropped. Give a monster a smack, drop it on the ground and it’ll light back up in a few seconds. Generally, this meant that link didn’t have magic, unlike other games in the series. Even the champion’s abilities were just that - the champion’s! He just indicated when to light it up!

But in totk it’s very different. Now, he’s crafting and powering his own gear. The gems were long theorised to be the main ingredient creating magic items, like elemental arrows or enchanted jewellery and armour, and now we have proof!! He’s even learned how to do it himself! Combining gems, or even monster parts to his weapons and lighting them up whenever he wants! Turns them on and off at will! He’s learned to channel magic sometime between botw and totk, something not all heroes learn to do! In fics he’s long been one of the few to have no magic talent whatsoever, and now that’s changed! Wild can officially join the ranks of the magic users!

There’s also the issue of where he learned it and who taught him, but the answer is pretty obvious, and speaks volumes of how far Zelda has come on her own journey. 

#botw #totk #loz totk #loz link #wild lu #lu wild #tears of the kingdom #loz tears of the kingdom #tloz tears of the kingdom #tloz #loz #Imagine if pre calamity zelda had been instructed with teaching the champion magic. ohhh she would have burned. #the idea of link being good at magic - her thing - on top of everything else? she would have HATED it. #but now she's probably suggested it herself! she wanted to see if he could do it! she sat down and taught him what she learned #through the endless tutors and books and prayers and late night research and then a century of living as infinite light #its such a huge growth both mentally and magically. the useless student has become the experienced teacher. she's matured so much ToT #totk link #totk zelda #botw zelda #botw totk #botw tears of the kingdom

[burningvelvet]

being a romantic era poet: a quick how-to guide

walk around in nature contemplating Things. start hiking, swimming, sailing, rowing, shooting, riding, etc. for inspiration

be obsessed with the french revolution and related enlightenment-era figures like rousseau, voltaire, mary wollstonecraft, and madame de staël. be more disappointed by napoleon bonaparte than you are by your own father. 

speaking of fathers, your parents and most of your other relatives are all either dying or dead or emotionally abusive. if you have any siblings (full, half, step, or adopted) who DIDN'T die tragically already, then you may choose to be close to them. you also may end up being much TOO close to them. various circumstances may also ban you from seeing them. 

be at least slightly touched by madness and/or some other severe illness(es) including but not limited to: consumption, horrors, syphilis, deformities, lameness, terrors, piles, boils, pox, allergies, coughing, sleep abnormalities, gonorrhea, etc. — for which you must take frequent bed rest and copious amounts of Laudanum (opium derivation)

consider foregoing meat and adopting a vegetable diet instead to purify the spirits. you may also abstain from alcohol for the same reasons. alternatively, you may attempt the veggie diet, end up rejecting it, and becoming a rampant alcoholic instead. in romanticism there is no healthy medium between abstinence and excess.

reject, or at least heavily criticize, christianity. refuse to get married in a church and consider becoming a fervent champion of atheism. alternatively, you may embrace catholicism, but only on an aesthetic basis. eastern religions and minority religions are also acceptable, only because they piss off the christians. 

if you’re not a self-hating member of the aristocracy and instead have to work for a living, do something that allows you to benefit society, be creative, and/or contemplate life. viable options include, but are not limited to: apothecarist, doctor, teacher, preacher, lawyer, farmer, printmaker, publisher, editor. there is also the possibility of earning a few coins from your art. if you were cursed to be born a She, no worries. we believe in equality. you may choose from these occupations: wife, nanny, housekeeper, spinster, amanuensis (copy writer for a man), lady’s companion, divorced wife, singer/actress/escort, widow, regular escort, tutor, or housewife. 

speaking of sexist institutions, try rejecting marriage entirely. Declare your eternal devotion to your lover by having sex with them on your mother’s grave instead.

if you do get married — elope, and only let it be for necessary financial reasons, or to try and save a teenage girl from her controlling family, or out of true love with someone you view as your intellectual equal, or because your life is so racked with scandals and debt that you can only clear your name by matrimony to a wealthy religious woman as your last resort before fleeing the country.

After marriage, quickly assert your belief in the powers of free love and bisexuality by taking extramarital lovers and suggesting your spouse follow suit. If they cannot keep up with your intellectual escapades then consider leaving them. Later on, propose a platonic friendship with them following the separation, or beg them for reconciliation.

If your marriage is happy, try moving in with another bohemian couple to shake things up. Alternatively, you may die before the wedding for dramatic effect.

If you beget children (whether in or out of marriage, makes no matter), do society a favor by choosing to raise them with your beliefs. Consider adopting orphan children, or even non-orphan children. If their parents are poor enough they probably won’t mind. Try kidnapp— I mean adopting — children off the side of the road if you can. 

DIE but do it creatively. ideally young. ideas: prophecy your own death, lead an army into war and then die right before your first battle and on your deathbed curse everyone and demand to see a witch, write a will leaving money to your mistresses or some random young man you have an unrequited romantic obsession with, carry a copy of your dead friend's poetry and read it right before you drown so that your washed up corpse can only be identified by his book in your pocket, die while staring at your lover's shriveled up heart that you keep wrapped up in a copy of his own poetry and then be buried with it, die of the poet's illness (consumption) while your artist friend draws you and then be buried with your lover's writing, get mysteriously poisoned (by yourself) after a series of scandals and accidents and then have your family announce that you were killed by god, die from romanticizing poverty or receiving bad reviews from literary critics, die from walking or horseback riding in the cold and the rain while poeticizing, etc.

#romanticism #romantics #romantic poetry #english romanticism #literature #english literature #lord byron #percy shelley #history #dark academia #aesthetic #poetry #lit #english #mary shelley #john polidori #william wordsworth #john keats #thomas chatterton #samuel taylor coleridge #william blake #the romantics #geneva squad #funny #meme #lit memes #my writing

[blushweddinggowns]

When Nancy’s mom pulled her aside one day to ask her a favor, she never thought that it would involve tutoring the Steve Harrington. The basketball starter that had nearly every girl in their high school wrapped around his finger. 

And sure, Mrs. Harrington was offering some really good pay, but that didn’t mean she wanted to do it. Because Steve was…a lot. He was cocky, he was weirdly aggressive when it came to his drug dealer best friend, and if his grades and lack of self-control were anything to go by, he was also dumb as hell. 

Just because he was the hottest guy in school didn’t mean she wanted anything to do with him. But her mom didn’t really give her a choice, not when she had been vying for Mrs. Harrington’s friendship for years.

And that’s how she found herself on the Harrington doorstep on a Sunday, dreading how tedious trying to make someone with no attention span learn was going to be. She rang the doorbell, impatient for the whole thing to just be done with already. 

She was surprised when it was Eddie Munson who answered the door, clad in nothing but boxers and a t-shirt that Nancy was pretty sure belonged to Steve, unless he had been a secret swimming champion in 1982. For a split second she thought she was at the wrong house, until she remembered that Eddie was supposed to be living in a trailer park. 

He ran a hand through his messy hair, not even the slightest bit embarrassed to be caught without pants on at someone else’s house, “Uh, can I help you?”

“I’m here for Steve? Um, I’m his tutor? Nancy Wheeler?” She wasn’t sure why she said her own name like it was a question, but the way Eddie was staring her down had her uncharastically nervous. 

But his eyes brightened at the word tutor. He stepped aside to let her in, “Oh yeah! He told me that was today, I guess we just lost track of time. Wait here. I’ll go get him. You want a muffin? I literally just made them, unless you're allergic to chocolate? But if you’re not they’re like, really good, my uncle’s recipe so you can trust it.”

He was talking a mile a minute as he led her into the house, happy in a way she never would have expected from him. In school he was so…defensive. Always willing to cut down anyone who made a comment about his weird sense of style. And there was also the little known fact that he sold freaking ketamine in the woods behind school with a small history of violence and theft. She kind of thought that the drug dealer whose wardrobe half consisted of skulls wouldn’t be the type of guy to bake muffins. 

But that didn’t mean she didn’t want one. 

“Um, sure?” She said, jumping a little when Eddie suddenly tossed one her way. 

Before she could even say thank you he was two-stepping his way up the stairs, whistling a tune that Nancy couldn’t help but smile at. If Eddie Munson could be so nice, then the odds of Steve turning out to not be a total dick were looking pretty good.

She could hear him slam a door open upstairs, voice loud and obnoxious, “Time to wake up sunshine! You got some learning to do!”

Nancy wandered over to the stairs as she ate, happily surprised at just how good it was. She couldn't hear much else, just a few groans and some shuffling, then something that sounded suspiciously like a giggle before the two of them made their way back downstairs. 

Steve was just as disheveled as Eddie was, hair a mess as he blearily blinked into the light, like it wasn’t already noon. He at least had the decency to put on pants though, something that Eddie had decided was superfluous. 

He waved at her as they came down, at least apologetic, “Hi, I’m Steve. Sorry about that. I was up late last night doing- I mean watching movies. Kind of let the day get away from me a little bit.”

He put out his hand for Nancy to shake and she couldn’t help but notice just how big they were. She took it, suddenly a little flustered as she spoke, “Nancy. And we’ve uh, actually met before. Believe it or not.”

Steve blinked at her, mind obviously racing to try and figure out when he’d seen her before, “Please don’t tell me we used to date.”

“No we didn’t but- wait. You don’t remember all the girls you’ve dated?” Nancy raised a brow at him, suddenly a lot less impressed. Just how big of a player was this guy?

But at least he had the good grace to look embarrassed, “I-well, it’s not like that. I-”

Eddie put a hand on his shoulder, stopping him in the midst of his stuttering sentence, “Stevie, stop while you're ahead. Now go get some food so your brain can actually function.”

Surprisingly, Steve obeyed, just like that. He just nodded and puttered into the kitchen, leaving Eddie and Nancy to follow him. 

Eddie leaned over, stage-whispering in her ear, “He’s usually a lot more charming after he’s been conscious for more than 5 minutes. I swear.”

They rounded the corner, just in time to see Steve eat half a muffin in one bite. He moaned at the taste of it, and Nancy was suddenly blushing for the second time in one day. 

He smiled at Eddie, hearts in his eyes, “How are you so good at everything?”

Nancy was starting to understand why her mom always said the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach. If she didn’t know any better she’d say that Steve was seconds away from asking Eddie to ride into the sunset together. 

Eddie shrugged, even though his face was positively pleased. Steve finished the rest of it with a dreamy sigh, eyes still locked on Eddie.

“God, I love-” Steve coughed mid sentence, and for a second Nancy was sincerely worried that he had managed to choke on a piece of muffin. But the next moment he was fine, glancing over at her before straightening, “Uh, when my parents are gone. You can eat anything you want. Thanks for making them dude.”

Eddie snorted, barely managing to keep his laughter inside, “No problem, dude. But now that you're functioning I’ll let you guys get to it. I’ll be in the living room if you need me.”

Nancy wasn’t sure just what they would need him for, but Steve nodded anyway. It was almost weird, just how comfortable Eddie was in his house. She had half expected him to leave after he dragged Steve downstairs, especially since it was a school night, but the way he sprawled himself out on the couch said otherwise. 

They set themselves up at the kitchen table, Nancy with their biology book in hand and Steve with a second muffin. She cracked her book open, internally preparing herself for an afternoon of frustration. So imagine her surprise when none came. 

Because Steve Harrington was nothing like she expected. He wasn’t some undiscovered genius or anything, but he was diligent. He didn’t try to make a move on her, which her friends had definitely warned her about when they first heard she was tutoring him. He never got mad when he didn’t understand something, or even impatient. If anything he was just apologetic, a constant barrage of I’m sorry coming out of his mouth whenever he got something wrong that she already explained.

It was endearing to say the least. He even offered to drive her home after. She hadn’t realized that the offer included Eddie poking at him from the back seat and complaining about the music the whole ride home, but still. It was a nice gesture. 

When her mom asked her how it went she didn’t even have to lie. It went great. Not even on the whole he wasn’t a dick side of things. He was making ground when it came to his schoolwork, he just needed a little bit of extra attention. 

She found herself laying in bed that night with a smile on her face, more than excited to see Steve again. Maybe they’d even manage to get a little alone time, just so she could get to know him a bit better.

For strictly tutoring reasons, of course. 

~

Part 1.5 Part 2 Part 3

From an unpublished chapter of this fic (But I'll probably add part two and the reveal here because it kind of works with tumblr formatting!)

#secret relationship steddie #steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #nancy wheeler #the universe trapped in your skin #unrequited crush #sorry nancy #boy's taken #stranger things #season 1 rewrite #childhood friends au #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things season 1 rewrite #stranger things fic

[wildflowercryptid]

now that kieran's champ look dropped, i could finally draw their mjverse designs for indigo disk. there's a 1 year timeskip between the 2 dlcs in my canon so i wanted to make them look a lil different to show that passage of time, ( carmine's not here bc i don't really see her look changing much. )

some info about what juliana and florian were up to during that 1 year gap under the cut! ⤵

JULIANA : after attaining her champion title and helping solve the team star situation, juliana's skills as a battler have become pretty well known around paldea. this new status initially ostracized her a bit from her peers, much like what nemona experienced, but she was able to show others that she was still just as approachable as she was before by tutoring some fellow students that wished to improve their battling skills. she's also realized that she really loves teaching others and is pretty damn good at it, too.

besides battling, juliana has also found a love of art thanks to hassel's art class. if you couldn't find her at the academy's battlefield, she'd most likely be working on a new piece in the art room. as a result, a lot of her clothes have speckled with paint ( like her favorite sneakers. ) seeing her passion for art and hoping to help her hone her skills, hassel took up the position as her mentor and is a great source of encouragement and support for her. juliana has also started dating penny soon after the end of post-game story.

FLORIAN : after getting back to mezagoza from his trip to kitakami, florian was a bit of an emotional wreak ( to say the least. ) he spent well over a month languishing over what happened with kieran, most of it spent moping around juliana and his shared dorm room while listening to heartbreak playlists. the rest was spent coming to the realization that his skills as a battler were still severely lacking. his last battle with kieran was an extremely close call, he only barely won with the skills he had gained during his journey through paldea. with how things were, there was no way he could fufill the duties of a pokémon professor if he couldn't effectively protect the pokémon entrusted to him, let alone himself or others he cares about. he couldn't keep resting on his laurels, he had to work towards improving himself.

so, for the past year, florian's poured himself into improving his battling skills with nemona and his sister's help. while he still isn't on their level, he's become quite the formidable battler. ogrepon, which he's given the nickname "pon-pon," has also become a staple of his team. the rest of his time is dedicated towards studying in the hopes of becoming pasio's next pokémon professor, being the most interested in mythology and terastallization. he still talks to arven frequently after he ( finally ) graduated, along with becoming friends with ortega and atticus. he even dated ortega briefly, but it was very clear that florian was still hung up on kieran so the relationship didn't last long, ( they're still good friends, though. )

when cyrano approaches the cavallari siblings and asks them to come to blueberry academy as exchange students, florian accepts the offer without hesitation. this could be his only chance to reconcile with kieran so there's no way he'd pass it up. juliana is happy to tag along since a school that focuses on battling sounds right up her alley, that and she's still peeved about not getting to go to kitakami. though, she's a little concerned for her brother and what may be waiting for him when they get there.

#i rambled under the cut please forgive me #i just needed to get my ideas out for the cavallari sibs #i don't know any spoilers but i just know a storm's brewing for florian #which i may end up pushing further if the plot allows it who knows #but yeah here are my kids enjoy #pokemon #pokemon scarlet and violet #pkmn scarvio #trainer juliana #trainer florian #rival kieran #pokemon kieran #hc : (pkmn) mjverse #chara : juliana sigal cavallari #chara : florian russel cavallari #chara : kieran hinoki #🎨 : mj draws #sv dlc spoilers #indigo disk spoilers

[wondercircuit]

lance and the ferrari driver academy: a brief timeline

this covers lance getting scouted into ferrari, his junior career at prema, and the surrounding connections he's had from his fda days that were pretty notable for his development up to his f1 debut in williams. i wrote this as personal reference for myself at first a while ago while writing something else, thus the added subjective commentary in a few bits, but if anyone is interested and can count some of this as useful information for his ferrari-related lore, then great. feel free to tell me if anything is inaccurate!

2008 - 2009: lance jacob strulovitch started competing in canadian karting was winning canadian national karting championships before this, such as the coupe de montreal and coupe du quebec micro max championship in 2008 and 2009. he placed 6th in a world finals at lonato, italy in the mini roc category and in addition, he was winning championships in florida karting competitions. racing coach and karting champion mike wilson tutored lance and mentioned that lance was born with that “killing instinct, and was surprised at the determination he had as a child to fight the back of a pack," comparing this attitude to a young fernando alonso, (who mike had also mentored (interview source ; you can read a brief version without paywall here).

2010: lance was scouted by ferrari at 11 years old, the youngest person signed to an f1 development programme at the time. luca baldisserri, ferrari’s chief track engineer and former engineer to michael schumacher was running the academy as director. lance was allegedly said to be an experiment for the fda to see if they can mold potential into developing an f1 driver from a young age.

baldisserri said the programme to nurture and shape kids with potential was never originally a part of the culture of ferrari and said it was a shot in the dark, knowing how young lance was. it was mentioned as well that mclaren offered lance a spot for their development programme, but lance chose ferrari's offer:

"Though Lance was eager to accept, his parents were reluctant. He was still a boy, and this was a major commitment. "I wanted Lance to digest it," [Lawrence] Stroll says. "With the time and money Ferrari is spending, you've really got to know you want to do this." But Ferrari wasn't the only one interested. Within days, Ferrari's bitter F1 rival, McLaren, heard what transpired in Florida and lobbed in a competing offer. After mulling his options, Lance chose Ferrari, and a few months later, boarded a plane for his first training session at the academy."

— The grooming of Canada's next Formula One driver, The Globe and Mail, 2011.

lawrence initially thought that the scout's offer for lance to join the fda was fake and a scam: "[Lawrence] Stroll didn't believe it. This man was a con artist, a fraud. He was incensed. "I told him, you're full of [expletive] this isn't true," the father recalls. It took a phone call from Italy later that afternoon to change his mind." the article also goes through the sort of training ferrari started him out with and talks about how luca gave lance the token red racing suit when he joined, but lance preferred to stick to not wearing the color, which i think is interesting:

"With the eyes of the racing world upon him, Lance is now trying to keep a low profile. When Ferrari welcomed Lance to its team, Baldisserri presented him with the rarest of gifts: a bright red Ferrari racing suit, just like the one Villeneuve wore. It is the most famous uniform in racing. But Lance told Ferrari it's probably better if he doesn't wear it. "It's like having a bull's-eye on my back," he explains. "The other kids are going to be saying: 'He's a Ferrari driver – go and get him.' " Baldisserri agreed. Everyone is chasing Lance Stroll. So on race day, the famous red suit stays at home and he zips himself into an anonymous blue-and-white uniform."

lance wearing the chiesa corse overalls with the tiny ferrari logo

in the same year, lance participated in a 'friendly' staff karting event at montreal where he's karted with fernando and felipe massa.

(L), lance in 2010 at a staff kart race organised by ferrari in montreal. lance scored p2 in this race behind fernando | (R), fernando and felipe massa who got p3, pictured with lance at the kart race

the ferrari driver academy was very newly established--aside from lance, the programme had checo perez and jules bianchi, who were in sauber and manor, the one other team using ferrari's engine respectively in f1 at the time.

2011 - 2014: lance continued to compete in karting and won the SKUSA supernationals in 2012. throughout this, he continued to train with ferrari. by now the fda had gained a total of 5 members with brandon maisano (who would then go on to be lance's teammate in prema) and rafael marciello added to their roster. jules was the eldest out of the five at 23 years old, while lance had been the youngest at 13.

(L) lance pictured with a few fellow fda members and ferrari drivers of different categories, including (R) giancarlo fisichella and fernando on ferrari's passion day event (essentially an exclusive event shared with fans at mugello) (2012)

one of the trainers at the fda, andrea ferrari (i'm so serious, his last name is literally ferrari) talked about how the five academy drivers had unique training sessions specific to their ages and classes. he's mentioned how he occasionally gets to work with the "senior" driver team aka fernando and massa and the time he spends with them and fernando's physio helps him construct the training plans: "The opportunities of dealing with Alonso and Massa are occasional but significant, according to his accounts. “When Fernando comes to Maranello he has some training sessions with us. We often go for a bike ride in a group of 5-6 people and, needless to say, Fernando always wants to win”, Andrea states. “In addition, I’ve to say he’s a very sociable person. He creates a very friendly environment when we go out for a dinner or five-a-side matches among Ferrari staff members" — (source) fernando has mentioned training at the strolls' home in mont-tremblant, canada after the 2014 canadian grand prix — (source). in the same year, prema released a fun short little interview of lance in f4 where he mentions that his favorite driver is fernando. (even aston martin's team principal mike krack has acknowledged that their meeting in ferrari and the strolls maintaining that connection with fernando since then was an important catalyst to their present time at aston.)

lance debuted in single-seater racing in that year's florida winter series, which was not a championship series, but was organised by the fda. max and nicholas latifi also participated in this series (here is a comprehensive post on lance in the 2014 florida winter series that @lil-shiro kindly put together). lance competed in the italian f4 championship and took 13 podium finishes with prema racing, thus winning the champion title that year.

lance at the podium in 2014, adria, italian f4

2015: lance competes and wins in the 2015 toyota racing series in new zealand in the winter, which consisted of 5 rounds. he competes in f3 europe and ended 5th in the standings for his first f3 season. it was around this year where there were rumours of the fda discontinuing; for context of the situation, luca baldisserri was stepping down from his director's role at the academy, checo left when he signed on to mclaren in 2013. lance also left the fda to sign on to the williams driver development programme in november that year with the aim of getting to work closer with an f1 team. lance described ferrari's training programme to be 'basic' and he was looking for more intensive sim work and actual testing for f1 cars, which the williams' junior programme offered.

on the topic of who else was leaving ferrari, felipe massa was in williams by 2014, and fernando in mclaren in 2015. the strolls still continued to visit fernando in f1 races here and there to show their support:

(L) lance and fernando at the monaco gp, 2015, and lawrence with fernando at the canadian gp, 2015

2016: by now, it was known that luca moved on to race-engineering for lance and working with him directly throughout his f3 euro season that year. luca also had a hand in prema racing's dominance for the respective gp2 and f3 euro categories where he acted as a consultant for the prema junior development team and helped manage structures there, which looked to be a testament of how effective luca was in nurturing and managing young talent, despite having left the fda which he himself had allegedly 'masterminded'. luca was also overseeing mick schumacher's development. there wasn't other known reasons as to why luca stepped down from the fda other than the sources i found implying that the decision was supposedly, or at least partly influenced, by lance choosing to leave ferrari. luca then continued to help oversee lance's development himself even when he signed on to williams junior programme. lance talked about luca a bit here in an autosport article:

"It's extremely important to have him with us and it's great that he will continue working with us. "He's been with me since a very young age, when he chose me to come on the Ferrari programme. "He's very good at watching what's going on between the team and the driver - he's quiet when he has to be, but when it's time to speak up he says some very good things."

— source, Autosport, 2015

it makes sense to want to fully continue seeing through a young kid's development to successfully graduate them into f1 despite it being with a different team. the fda was a new programme, and in comparison to other teams' driver academies eg. williams, mclaren's, red bull junior's programme etc, ferrari doesn't promote rookies directly to their f1 seat, assigning them instead to sauber or haas first before offering opportunities. lance also mentions how he knew it was pretty unlikely that ferrari would let a driver with less experience into the team. i think this says things about ferrari's culture, at least in comparison to the other teams that are more willing to put rookies in their seat (this is constantly debated by fans and pundits across the sport to be extremely pressurizing for young talent but i do feel that you have to also question the alternative that seems to be ferrari's methods. again, all this is highly dependent on other factors as well involving a single driver's experiences and their individual junior trajectory so ultimately, the debate to whether or not a young driver is 'ready' for f1 before they're even actually there is personally moot to me. but alas, i do find it vaguely interesting......)

i'm only focusing on lance's development here so i can't say much on the fda now except for an added anecdote that charles leclerc is currently the only graduate so far to be promoted to the ferrari seat after the obligatory sauber stint for his rookie year. again, solely speaking from a point of comparison to other driver programme's success rates on getting their talent into their f1 team, it makes the fda's effectiveness look a little bit questionable.

anyway, here's more of what lance said on his switch to williams:

“I feel like we can be closer right now with Williams, and I’m working with them rather than just being part of a training camp like at Ferrari. For the future, it’s the right move.” And Stroll also feels Ferrari is unlikely to promote a rookie driver into one of its race seats, while Williams has a proven track record with the likes of Valtteri Bottas, Nico Rosberg and Jenson Button. "Williams has a great history of believing in young drivers, they’ve given many rookie drivers a chance in Formula 1. That was important for us, because Ferrari has a different approach; they tend to take more veteran drivers to fight for the championship."

— source, f1i.com (2016)

[Question] Tell me about your role with Williams… [Lance:] "It’s been a great eight months with them. It’s been fantastic. The cooperation with me in F3 is great, they have the right understanding of me focusing 100 percent on F3 and not getting distracted with Formula 1. They just want me to finish the championship, they’re not pressuring me to jump in an F1 car and doing testing and things like that. They want me to focus on one thing at a time, and that’s great."

[Question] If the opportunity to jump into a Formula 1 race seat in 2017 came up, do you feel you’ll be ready? [Lance:] I do… but it’s easy to say it. I haven’t driven an F1 car yet, so I don’t have a complete understanding of what it’s like. Once I have a couple of tests under my belt, a bit more experience, then I’ll have a much better idea of if I’m ready to make that step just yet or not. At the moment I’m blind in terms of F1. I’ve driven F3, I’ve driven a couple of other categories, but I’ve never really sat in an F1 car. So I don’t know how much different it is to what I’m doing now, how much more complicated it is, how much tougher it is. They are all things I’ll figure out along the road. But if… if it is just another step, and if I’m comfortable in the car, then why not? F3 is a very high level, we’ve seen guys like Max – and I don’t want to use him as the example every time because maybe he’s an exception – but even guys like Ocon, Rosenqvist, these are guys that could do it as well."

— source, Motorsport, 2016

the headline for the motorsport excerpt above is extremely misleading but i think the interview shows pretty good insight to lance's attitude towards his own development and how he's got a good head on his shoulders with self-awareness of his own capabilities, despite having had more opportunities and the financial advantage that motorsports typically needs. he also talks about his former prema teammates felix rosenqvist (currently in indycar) and jake dennis (currently competing in formula e) and how instrumental they were to him in learning about his race craft during his first year in f3. here is a clip on lance back in prema talking about his teammates feat. esteban and lance's long-time driver coach nuno pinto.

at the end of his race season, lance won the f3 euro championship in 2016, the first north-american who's won in the category.

lance celebrating his championship win for f3 euro in 2016.

2017: lance accumulated enough points by then to get a super licence for f1 (which allowed him to skip f2, like max did). this makes lance the second-youngest driver to debut in f1 at 18 years old. while lance isn't tied to ferrari anymore, luca baldisserri continued to be his race engineer for lance at williams to keep seeing through lance's development in his rookie and sophomore years.

lance with luca on the paddock and garages (2017)

overall, the 2017 williams had a decent car (they were 5th in the wcc that year) and lance managed to score his first points at his home race. he also became the second-youngest to win a podium in f1:

lance's first podium at baku, 2017.

that's it! the rest is truly history ♡

if you're interested, here is an external post off tumblr that briefly and neatly goes through lance's f1 career including his racing strengths, driving style and teammate relationships up to the present, written by @strulovic and linked with her permission. i'm sharing it here just because i've found it to be personally useful myself as a starting point when i went down the rabbit hole of digging up research of his fda days.

#lance stroll #ferrari driver academy #a lot of this was canonical reference i was using while writing 1418 f***** au #and i thought to put it up here and share a bit of history* in a condensed fashion #*important and fundamental info i compiled the week after i kept staring at dave's life-changing fanart of ferrari au #*info #disclaimer i don't know how ferrari runs their programme now under jock clear so my own feelings of side-eyeing the fda still remains

[normal-internet-user]

Okay, so can you do like a day in a life for child reader and bayverse tmnt (okay so I kinda want to see how they would react to y/n being the same height as the turtles

Also have a good day / night absolutely love your work 😄❤️👍

I actually really like writing sibling reader, I always giggle to myself while I'm writing this stuff, thank you for the request @bubbathebuzz 💕💕

DAY IN THE LIFE OF SIBLING READER

Where do I even begin to describe the chaos?

Every morning you are the first to wake up,

No matter what.

You even wake up before Leo.

How, none of them can figure out.

You beg to have a poptart for breakfast, and while you do get them occasionally, someone will ususally make you eggs and toast.

It's just not healthy for a child your age to have poptarts for breakfast everyday.

After breakfast, the boys have training, depending on how Splinter feels that day determines the type of training.

Your favorite type of training is posture or balance training because Splinter gives you a stick and your job is to hit your brothers on the ankles with it.

That's why Splinter only has balance training on weekends,

Since you have school the rest of the week.

Speaking of, Donnie makes it a point to tutor and help you with your school.

Which is definitly part of the reason you're the smartest kindergardener your teachers have ever seen.

(My little sister came up with a headcanon and I just had to share it, Donnie gives you a broken keyboard just to make you think you're helping him with his work, and you won't realize that it was broken untill you're like, 17, and you'll realize your whole life was a lie.)

Ahem-

If you aren't at school, one of your brothers is always keeping you busy,

They found out the hard way that leavinga bored toddler to their own does not end well.

It will forever be known as the "Paintball Incident" and I refuse to elaborate any further on the subject.

Mikey likes to play video games with you,

Leo won't let you play any 'mature' games until your older, stuff like Call Of Duty or Tomb Raider,

So you guys usually play games like Mario Kart, Stardew Valley, and Minecraft.

As it turns out, you are incredible at Mario Kart and are currently the house champion, and no one knows how tf you keep winning.

The entire fam goes into slight denial when you start growing up.

They kinda forgot you wouldn't stay small and wholesome forever,

So when you get to the age of, well, angstyness, shit gets wild.

Backtalk, sneaking out, rolling your eyes, Leo does not appreciate the attitude.

You not directly a jerk to any of them, just alot more sarcastic than you used to be,

But most of the time you're a really good kid.

Good grades, you do good in training, always have your chores done,

The whole nine yards.

(You are Splinter's favorite by default)

You are decently close with April,

You have sleepovers at her apartment, and she'll take you out shopping sometimes,

She's like a breath of fresh air compared to the chaos that is the Lair.

Casey is like that cool uncle that lets you do stuff you probably shouldn't be doing,

Like try beer.

One time, you were spending the night at April's apartment during hockey season, and Casey was there so you could all watch the game together.

April got up to use the bathroom, and Casey used to opportunity to do cool uncle things and let you try some beer.

You did not like it.

You choked slightly as the taste caught you off guard, "That taste like shit." you coughed out.

Casey scoffed, "It's an aquired taste, smalls."

"Thats code for, 'It taste like shit'."

Kareoke night is a regular thing on Fridays.

It usually ends with you passed out on the couch and one of your brothers carrying you to bed.

But it's your favorite part of the week.

If you end up growing to be around the same height as the boys', they will literally hate it,

You used to be so small 🥺,

They think it's unfair that you didn't stay that way.

It hits Splinter particularly hard when he realizes you grew up,

Because the same thing happend with the boys'.

But no matter how old you are, he is more than willing to be your person to go to,

Even if you are grown up, he's still you're dad.

(He still sings you to sleep if you have a nightmare.)

When you start patroling with your brothers, they are fucking terrified.

You can get hurt, alot easier than any of them can, so it's only natural that they're nervous.

You don't have a protective shell like they do after all.

If you ever get hurt after a fight, they are fa-reaking out.

Donnie's got the med-kit and starts checking you for everything from a concussion to lung cancer,

Mikey's panicing in the backround, while Leo just paces dramatically,

And Raph is currently beating the shit out of whatever poor idiot decided to hurt you.

Word spreads quickly amongst the criminals of the city to not go anywhere near you should they encounter the turtles,

Lest the be in mortal danger.

All in all,

It's chaotic,

It's fun,

And you know for a fact you have a family to back you up in anything you do.

.........................................

Fun fun. I love writing this stuff, it's makes me giggles lol

#tmnt #tmnt x reader #x reader #leonardo x reader #donnie x reader #raphael x reader #leonardo x reader tmnt #sibling reader #platonic x reader #tmnt x reader platonic #younger sibling #tmnt bayverse #bayverse x sibling reader #mikey x reader

[respectthepetty]

Happy Birthday, Kanghan!

I may be easy, but I'm not cheap, so I always like seeing how wealth is displayed in these BLs.

Max got Kanghan a limited film camera imported from the United States.

but . . . Kanghan isn't into photography.

Nawa got him a Liverpool jersey, No. 8, from the 2005 UEFA Champions League, but I'm going out on a limb and assuming Liverpool is not Kanghan's favorite team (Messi is Inter Miami now, so forget those European team, and come on over to the United States side of life, sir).

Pimfah painted him a portrait

Which he liked the most.

I think Kanghan likes Pimfah, so obviously he would like her gift, but . . . *put a pin in it*

Kanghan's dad got him the motorcycle, but he picked the model for Kanghan instead of letting Kanghan decide.

Sailom sang Kanghan "Happy Birthday" and grabbed a cake from Kanghan's fridge for him.

Kanghan isn't even aware of what is in his own fridge, so he was surprised that Sailom had asked the staff for it, but he was genuinely thankful for it.

Because it isn't just about liking the person (IF Kanghan does, in fact, like Pimfah), but about the effort. *take that pin out from earlier*

When Kanghan's friends ask what Sailom got him

Sailom answers that he wasn't aware it was Kanghan's birthday (even though they spent the entire day together *put another pin in it*)

And this could be a subtitle choice, but it's interesting that Sailom says he didn't "prepare" anything rather than he didn't "buy" anything.

We know Sailom doesn't have McDonald's money, but Pimfah didn't purchase anything and Kanghan liked her gift the most because it took effort.

AND IT WAS SURPRISING!

But why not skip tutoring, so he could celebrate his birthday with his friends? Why spend all day with Sailom, yet not tell him that it was his birthday? *take the second pin out*

Because he wanted to spend his birthday with Sailom without making it about him. And this possibly started the night before.

The boys didn't leave the school until after 10 pm; then, Kanghan detoured to the restaurant "just cause", so it had to be late when they left there.

A few people have written that Kanghan isn't lonely. He has a grandmother who loves him. He has friends who want to hang out with him. So why did he want to spend the night going into his birthday with Sailom?

Then proceed to spend all night with him the next day?

Because he enjoys spending time with Sailom, sure.

But it's because the time he spends with Sailom is full of surprises.

Every interaction he has with Sailom surprises him. Kanghan, who is bored with his life and money, finds Sailom unpredictable, for good reason.

Sailom brings up a lot of feelings™ in Kanghan because Kanghan never knows what to expect, so Kanghan is acting out in less predictable ways as well.

Because he doesn't know how to describe what is happening, but he knows the feelings™ Sailom evokes in him are real.

And that's what Kanghan is really craving - something real.

He has his kingdom of cardboard and trash.

He could buy anything he wants, so he wants nothing.

His two best friends get him gifts that he doesn't even care about. His father makes decisions for him, so he doesn't have to think. But Sailom gives him something different, something new, something real, and something worth the effort - Sailom gives Kanghan himself.

Sailom has nothing else to give Kanghan but himself. The cake comes from Kanghan's own fridge. The guitar for the song is borrowed. But Sailom gives Kanghan his attention, which is all Kanghan really wants.

So Happy Birthday, Kanghan!

I hope you enjoy your present!

#Happy Birthday Kanghan #Dangerous Romance #aka my entire personality #Sailom already gave Kanghan himself #because that is all he has to give #sailom x kanghan

[sapphire-writes]

Thin Ice (modern!HOTD)

pairing: Aegon x Reader & Cregan Stark x Reader

summary: The morning after the hockey house party. Aegon's first study session and some confusing feelings that have begun to develop.

word count: 2.8k

warnings: 18+ series (suggestive & crude language, descriptions of sex, debriefing about sex) general language & mature themes

note: nothing super spicy this chapter but hope you enjoy my loves 😘

series masterlist

previous chapter ~ Ch. 3: Breakfast of Champions ~ next chapter

The morning light streams across your face waking you from your dreams. Your head throbs slightly, in tandem with your heartbeat. Your mouth feels dry as though it was stuffed with cotton. 

You moan, turning over in the bed. Campfire, the smell of roasting marshmallows. You bury your face in the pillow inhaling the scent. The flannel sheets hug you, keeping you nice and toasty like the marshmallow being held over the flames. 

You hear noises from outside the room, and as much as you do not want to leave, you know you need to. You sit up, looking down at yourself. Baela is lying on her stomach, snoring slightly, her silver curls splayed out around her head. The room is cluttered, but not a total disaster much to your suprise. You figured Aegon would be messier. 

Shit, you need water. And an Advil. Damn, your head hurts. 

“Bae,” you groan. 

Baela moans in response. You poke her cheek, and she swats at your hand. 

“Leave me alone to die,” she groans. 

“I smell bacon,” you tell her, nostrils flaring, “You think these jocks know how to cook?”

“Tell them to send up some eggs Benny and I’ll be square,” Baela grumbles into the pillow. 

“Right away, madame,” you tell her, getting out of bed.

You rise from the bed looking down at yourself. A baggy t-shirt that reads Knights Hockey. You remember changing, spinning around for Aegon, and him holding your face. His thigh under you. You stand a little straighter.

Aegon fucking Targaryen.

Your eyes widen remembering more of the night. Holy shit. Your cheeks warm and you swallow the lump beginning to form in your throat. Baela groans, still facedown in the pillow. 

“Bae,” you whisper, “I think I-”

A crash of pots and pans is heard from downstairs, followed by a string of curses. Baela lifts her head, meeting your eyes. 

“Maybe make sure they’re not burning the place down?” she asks, rubbing sleep from her eyes. 

You nod, eyebrows scrunching together. Baela lets her head hit the pillow once more. She’ll sleep all day if someone lets her. Baela firmly believes that a night out needs an entire day of recovery. Debrief can happen over dinner. 

You glance in the full-length mirror that hangs on the back of the door, smoothing your bedhead and making sure you’re somewhat presentable before walking downstairs. Red solo cups litter the hallway along with left-behind vapes and other party memorabilia. You tip your toes around, gingerly walking down the stairs. They creak with every step, signaling your arrival. 

“Shit!” a voice says with another crash, “Fuck this grease keeps burning me-ah!”

You walk into the kitchen where John Umber is battling a frying pan full of bacon, the grease crackling and popping splashing him. He’s wearing a flowery apron making him look like a mother grizzly bear. He yelps again, throwing a dishrag over his bare arms. Brandon Karstark and Erryx Cargyll are seated at the counter, laughing at their friend and teammate. 

“Girl,” the voice of Reese Bolton says, as he brushes past you into the kitchen.

The laughter stops and all eyes turn to you. It’s silent for a moment, despite the crackling of the bacon before you walk over to the stove, turning down the heat. Reese sits down at the table. 

“You’ve got the heat too high,” you tell John. 

He points the tongs at you, eyes narrowing.

“Tutor girl,” he says, nodding with appreciation, “Saving the day.”

Brandon Karstark chews a mouthful of cereal watching as you sit down at the corner of the counter. Erryx glances at you sideways. Reese is the only one who seems unbothered, almost cold, and indifferent about your presence. John turns the bacon in the pan, lifting the finished pieces onto a paper plate. 

You meet Brandon’s gaze and he quickly looks away. It’s like they’ve never sat with a girl before eating breakfast.

“What?” you ask, “Do I have something on my face?”

Reese turns from the table he’s sat at. Squints at you. 

“I don’t see any cum residue on your face, so I’m guessing Aegon didn’t sleep with you,” he says, rather nonchalantly.

Your eyebrows shoot up to your hairline at his crude remark. You don’t know much about Reese, but you’ve heard he’s a dickhead. 

“Dude,” Erryx says, and it's echoed by the other guys. 

“Just saying,” Reese says, going back to his phone.

“We’re friends,” you tell them, “Just friends.”

“Such good friends,” Aegon says yawning, entering the kitchen, “I don’t sleep on the couch for just anyone. My neck’s gonna be bothering me all week now thanks to you.”

His grin is playful, bedhead endearing as he scrunches his nose at you. He’s shirtless and you can see the head of his dragon tattoo snaking around his hipbone. It must travel down the length of his thigh, but only the head is visible on the side of his stomach; the rest disappears below his gray sweats.Your stomach flutters pleasantly and you watch as he pops slices of bread into the toaster. 

“Here ya go, my lady,” John says putting the plate of bacon in front of you, “Do you like eggs? I can cook them any way you want them.”

“Out resident chef,” Brandon tells you, blushing as he does. You give him a small smile.

“Scrambled?” you ask and John nods.

“Coming right up,” he tells you, saluting you.

“Hey can you do eggs benedict by chance?” you ask him.

“That’s a little fancy,” he comments, raising an eyebrow at you.

“Baela’s favorite,” you tell him.

“Well in that case,” he says, “I can make some magic happen.”

You chuckle. Aegon is smiling, his side profile facing you as he butters his toast. He brings the plate in front of you, resting his elbows on the counter. His eyes are rimmed with purple, from lack of a good night’s sleep no doubt. Lips swollen, as though they’d just been kissed. They had, by you, just a few hours ago. Your lips tingle with the memory. 

Aegon bites into toast, playfully pursuing his lips.

“You sleep well?” he asks, “Ready to tutor the fuck outta me?”

“Always,” you tell me, taking a bite of the bacon provided. 

His smirk grows. He seems to like that you play the game with him. Aegon offers you the second piece of toast which you take, grateful for some carbs in your stomach. 

“Have you seen Sara?” you ask, wondering where your best friend was.

No sooner than you spoke her name, a loud banging begins upstairs. Rhythmic and solid, followed by a flurry of grunts and moans. Aegon’s eyes look up toward the ceiling, then back to you. Your mouth drops open.

“No way.”

“Yes way,” Aegon assures.

“They’ve been at it all morning,” Erryx confirms.

Damn. You cannot wait for the debrief later on. 

Aegon grins as the noises continue, taking another bite of toast. 

You decide to leave after breakfast (and hauling Baela out of Aegon’s bed) to go to your apartment and shower before meeting Aegon at the library to study. You’d much rather take a nap, as Baela intends to, but a deal is a deal. 

Your shower revitalizes you, the water washing away the feeling of sleeping in a frat house. You stay in extra long just because. When you finally emerge, the apartment is still quiet. 

“Sara?” you call but don’t expect an answer. 

Her location confirms she’s still at the hockey house. Damn, Jace Velaryon. You text Sara, letting her know your plans, and then text Aegon. 

“I don’t get it,” Aegon says, hardly a whisper even though you’re in the library.

You raise an eyebrow at him. It’s been an hour of this now.

“Why are they in…the cave?” he asks again, violet eyes tired.

You take a sip from your coffee. Second of the study session. You rub your temples with your fingers. 

“It’s an allegory,” you tell him. Again.

He blinks at you, as though you’re speaking High Valyrian. 

“Yes,” he answers, with no conviction behind it, “Why don’t they leave?”

“That’s the point,” you tell him, “Aeg, you’re so close to the point.”

He frowns, jaw slacking as he reads it again. You sigh, pulling the book away from him. Aegon glances up at you with wide violet eyes. He’s like a puppy, you’ve realized, cocking his head to the side trying to decipher what you’re trying to tell him. 

“Can we talk about something else?” Aegon asks, leaning back in his seat.

You fold your hands on top of one another.

“What do you want to talk about?” you ask.

His eyes narrow mischieviously.

“Your conversation with Stark.”

You tilt your head to the side. 

“What about it?”

“What did he say?”

You shrug, crossing your arms. You chose a comfy sweatshirt for this study session and its warmth makes you want to fall asleep. 

“He called me cute, and said we could finish the conversation another time.”

Aegon rolls his eyes at your answer. 

“You’re so dramatic.”

“What? Why?” you ask frowning.

“You were basically crying last night that he didn’t like you!”

“Well, he left!” you tell him, jutting your lower lip out in a pout.

“To drive someone home!” Aegon argues. 

“Not someone, his ex-girlfriend!” you tell him, raising an eyebrow. 

“He’s just a good guy, you don’t see him complaining about you hanging with me!”

“He did.”

Aegon pauses, eyebrows raising. 

“Wait, what?” he asks, smirking. 

“Well, he asked about us hanging out, if we were seeing each other,” you tell him.

Aegon’s smile grows, revealing his perfect teeth. He must’ve had braces as a kid, no one is born with a smile that perfect. Or maybe they’re fake, his family is wealthy enough. 

“What did you say?” he asks.

“That I’m just your tutor!” you say, taking another sip of coffee.

Aegon’s eyes bug out of his head. 

“Bunny!” he scolds.

“What?”

“You could have made him sweat a little more,” Aegon argues.

“I don’t want him to think we’re dating,” you tell him, frowning.

Aegon simply shakes his head, giving you a pitying look. It makes your stomach flip, the way he looks at you. 

“You don’t know how any of this works, do you?” he asks, in a chastizing manner. 

You sigh, tilting your head back, looking at the ceiling. 

“I think you’re the one being dramatic.”

Aegon waves you off.

“Do you even know how pissed Jay Lannister was when he saw you with me?”

Your face flushes, and you can feel the blush creeping up your neck towards your cheeks. Aegon’s eyes flicker across your face, down your neck, and over your exposed shoulders. It’s like he has laser beams behind those violet eyes, the heat seems to follow where he looks.

“Bet he texted you,” he challenges and you shake your head.

“I blocked him,” you tell him, causing the corner of his lips to pull up into a smirk.

“Good girl,” he praises, chuckling softly, “Bet he tried to text you. He was wrecked after our little display.”

You break away from his eyes. Little display. He’s been teasing around the topic all day. He has to know what happened, there’s no way he doesn’t, right? Your eyes flicker to his lips.

Ask me again when you’re sober.

You part your lips to speak, but Aegon speaks first. 

“Speak of the devil,” he murmurs looking behind you. 

You turn, expecting to see Jason, but instead, it's Cregan Stark placing a book on the counter, returning it before he moves to leave the library. He’s freshly showered, with his long brown hair pulled off his face in a low bun, and his beard nicely trimmed. He’s wearing black sweatpants that hang low on his hips, accentuating his thick thighs. You feel your mouth water slightly. 

“Now’s your chance, bunny,” Aegon encourages. 

“Be right back,” you tell him, rising from your seat. 

You walk towards Cregan, calling his name as you get closer. He turns, smiling as you approach him. Gods he’s handsome. Your heart beats erratically in your chest as you stand in front of him. 

“Hey stranger,” Cregan greets you, “How are you feeling?”

“Okay,” you tell him, smiling softly, “Did Aly get home safe?”

“Oh yeah, no problem,” he tells you, “Sorry I just bailed on you like that.”

“No worries, I think it's sweet you drove her home,” you tell him.

“Your friend…Sara right? She and Jace really hit it off,” Cregan tells you.

You could say that.

“Yeah, they did,” you tell him.

Cregan wets his lips.

“We should go out, the four of us, and do something fun,” he tells you.

Holy shit.

“Yeah, yeah I would love that, and Sara would be so down,” you tell him, nervously rushing your words. Cregan smiles.

“Let’s do it,” he tells you, “Can I get your number?”

You nod excitedly, not trusting your voice. Cregan hands you his phone and you put your number in, sending a text to yourself. As you hand him back his phone, Cregan narrows his eyes playfully.

“It’s your real number, right?”

“Yeah,” you answer, giggling.

“Good, cause I’ll hunt you down, it’s a small campus,” he playfully threatens.

You giggle again, unable to stop yourself. Your chest feels warm with his playful banter. 

Aegon watches you from his seat, eyes shameless roaming over your body. Observing the way you cross your arms behind your back, rolling back on your heels nervously as you converse with Stark. How your leggings are molded against your legs perfectly, leaving little to the imagination.

Aegon can feel you pressed against him as you were last night. Hear the soft sounds you released, feeling you riding his thigh. He bets you’d feel fucking amazing riding his cock instead. The though makes him hard and he switches the way he’s sitting, trying to find some relief.

He can’t think like that. You’re Helaena’s friend. Her best friend. He’s caused Helaena drama in the past and he won’t do that again.

No matter how much he wants to.

Besides, you have a deal. 

Aegon shakes his head, clearing his thoughts as you prance back over to him. More a happy skip than a walk. 

“I have a date,” you tell him, smiling wide, “A double date. Score!”

“Nicely done, bunny,” he tells you, watching you bite your lip.

“Okay,” you say sighing, “back to the cave.”

When you return home several hours later your apartment is dark, and empty. Saturday night should be more lively, but you decide a night in may be just what you need. You drop your bag of takeout on the table and sit down, scrolling through your phone.

You hear the door to Sara’s room open and the sound of her sock-clad feet padding down the hallway. She emerges in Jace Velaryon’s sweatshirt, the hood up covering her whole head except her face. She’s wearing her comfiest pair of socks and seemingly nothing else.

Sara winces as she sits down in the chair across from you. You raise an eyebrow at her.

“Hello, beautiful,” you tell her, “it's nice to see you this evening.”

“Yes I know,” Sara sighs, “I’m sorry for being MIA all day, I was kidnapped.”

Your eyes widen. 

“Kidnapped?”

Sara smiles mischievously, nodding. She bites her lip, leaning forward and grabbing a fry from your takeout container. 

“Two words,” she says, clasping her hands together, “Jace Velaryon.”

“Tell me more,” you insist, wide eyed.

“Massive cock-”

“Sara!”

“Super freak-”

“Ohmygod,” you squeal. 

“He doesn’t look like he would have a horse cock, right?” Sara begins, “But girl. Massive. Like, I’m in pain. Glorious pain, from his massive schlong.”

“Ouch,” you tell her, “massive? MASSIVE Sara? That sounds painful.”

“This boy split me in half,” Sara says, sighing dreamily, “over, and over, and over again.”

You place a hand over your heart.

“I heard,” you tell her earnestly.

She squeals at your expression.

“No you did not!”

“Just a little! In the kitchen!” you tell her laughing.

“Ohmygod,” she says, covering her face, “So fucking worth it. He’s so sweet. We spent all night cuddling, we didn’t even fuck until the morning. He’s so cute, girl, I like him so much.”

“Good because we have a date,” you tell her, smiling slyly. 

Sara gives you a quizzical look. 

“I’m sorry what?” she asks.

“You and Jace, and me and Cregan,” you tell her. 

“Not Aegon?” she asks.

You frown. 

“No not Aegon,” you tell her, “That’s weird. Why would you say that?”

She shrugs.

“You two seemed awfully close last night, that’s all,” she comments, stealing another fry.

You blink as she stares at you.

“He was just helping me out,” you tell her and she nods.

“Whatever you say bestie,” she says smirking.

“Can we go back to talking about Velaryon’s monster cock now?” you tease and she claps her hands together.

“Of course we can,” she says.

The rest of the evening is spent debriefing but you can’t shake the thoughts from your head around what Sara said about Aegon. Whatever. You have a date, with Cregan. This is what you wanted all along. Right?

note: OOOOOO the feelings are coming 🤭 y'all know me, you know how much i like to make things messy, and its coming i promise hehe

THIN ICE TAGLIST: @padfooteyes, @nina2697, @julieeba, @darkenchantress, @heavenly1927, @fan-goddess, @possiblyafangirl, @n4tforlife

bold means I could not tag for some reason!

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#aegon targaryen imagine #aegon targaryen x you #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon x reader #aegon ii targaryen #aegon ii #aegon ii targaryen x reader #aegon ii x you #aegon ii fanfic #aegon ii targaryen x you #hotd au #hotd x reader #hotd aegon #house of the dragon #house targaryen #aemond targaryen #jacaerys velaryon #cregan stark #cregan x y/n #cregan x you #cregan stark x y/n #cregan stark x reader #cregan stark x you #hockey!au #modern!aegon x reader #modern!aegon targaryen #modern!hotd #hotd modern au #modern au #aegon ii x reader

[lizzaneia-elizalde]

I'm so glad you're doing well!

Could I perhaps ask for Damon and his darling nerd? Maybe something really good happens to her that she's excited about and when she tells Damon about it, she hugs him without thinking because of how happy she is. I'd imagine him getting drunk off of the physical contact and just wanting more

Yandere! Jock x Honor student! fem! reader everyday tidbits: achievements

Damon was nervous.

He's rarely nervous.

And, the fact that he's nervous for another person is weirder.

But, at least he's nervous for you. That made it more excusable as he watched you from afar on the bleachers, biting his nail while praying to whoever God that still didn't give up on him.

Sweat riddling down his temple, he watched as you raised your whiteboard with the words "300 to 3,000 Mega Hertz". Your eyes focused on the screen projector up above the University stage, with the question reading "What range of frequencies are usually referred to as the Ultra High Frequency (UHF) Band?"

It was your University's Intramurals week, with today being the Academic night. You were assigned to be the representative of your college's individual science quiz bowl, and that meant that Damon didn't get to have that much tutoring off of you.

Other than being pissed that you just had to join the quiz bowl, he felt somehow proud. You, the academic genius, the introverted yet blunt student of the Education department, is in a competition in front of such a huge crowd like this? It was unbelievable.

And yet, his unfounded jealousy trickled down his spine when the people cheered for you once the proctor beside you raised the green flag, signaling you got the right answer.

He may be cheering for you, but others are too. Just thinking about how other people can see your brilliance other than him was boiling his blood under his skin.

"One more round..." He whispered, gripping his fist. "Just one more, and she's for my eyes, and my eyes only once again."

His muttering scared his friend beside him, not used to seeing Damon so... ??? What is Damon's face projecting? He doesn't know. It was foreign to him.

Damon's heart jumped once he realized it was the last round. This is it.

The projector flashed once more, with the last item of the hard round. If you got this, then you'll be the champion of the individual science quiz bowl. If not...

"Which prefix is often used with scientific terms to indicate that something is the same, equal or constant?"

Hmm? Why did language studies came here?

Anxiety riddled his body for you.

What is it?

Whispers got out on the surrounding stadium and from the bleachers, wondering what the answers are. Some students are trying to mouth the answers to their representatives, but to no avail.

He found himself clasping his hands together, eyes wide as he leaned forward and bit his tongue.

"Come on, y/n... You know this... Wait? Do you? Whatever...." He whispered under his breath, watching you turn the gears click and clack on your pretty head.

Then, your hand started to move on the whiteboard you're holding.

As the timer ran out, you put your marker down with a shaky breath and an unsure frown, making your college groan in defeat.

Damon almost lunged at them. How dare they? How can they not believe in you, sighing in defeat-- do they not know it affects your morals too?

As murder plays on his mind, the projector flashed, showing the answer.

"iso"

His breath hitched, watching you put up your whiteboard marker.

iso

"OH MY GOD!"

"YES!"

"LET'S GOOOO!!"

"LET'S GO EDUCATORS LET'S GO!"

As the College cheer and the defeaning beat of the drums wafted from the bleachers, your eyes widened in delight, covering your mouth from disbelief. You actually got that right?!

Damon was suddenly buzzing with energy. His eyes wide, mouth a small "o". He stood up, and as if time stood in a slowmo, he vaulted over seats, and down from the bleachers. Ignoring the shot of pain on his feet, he ran through the barriers and ran past shocked people.

But before he could scoop you up in a hug, your eyes found his and with a huge grin, you ran to him and embraced him first.

Your soft body on his hard one, your arms giddily wrapped around his neck, your head buried on his shoulder.

He froze, not knowing what to do.

"I-I did it! Damon I did it!" You giddily whispered. Your voice, usually laced with shyness and a bit of ridicule, was full of elation and happiness. You felt so light, free from the pressure that you were placing on yourself. Tears of happiness trickled down your cheeks.

Damon trembled. His senses were overwhelmed with yours. Your scent, your body, your warmth... It was too much.

His arms shakily wound around you, gripping you tightly as his nose buried on your neck, inhaling your scent and calming down.

He can't be too worked up. After all, he's in front of countless people.

He reluctantly let go of you, wiping your tears away from your cheeks.

"I'm so proud of you, y/n." He whispered, eyes filled with so much affection that even your blindness to his advances got shunned away for a bit, making your heart race.

"Thank you, Damon..."

Meanwhile, everyone at your college were shocked, and other students let out high pitched coo's and aw's, thinking that you and Damon are together.

"What the fuck? Damon?" His friend was bewildered. Sure, he knew that Damon had the hots for you. But this?

It was too cheesy for him. Blegh.

Sure, maybe Damon took advantage of the crowd, vaulting over people to hug you and make it seem that both of you are dating. Will he deny it? Nah. Maybe even vaguely insinuating and egging these people to believe more.

At the very least, with him being your "boyfriend" nobody will try to snatch you away from him now that people saw your brilliance.

And as he buried his face on hair once more and spun you around happily, he knew the next few days and weeks will be one hell of a ride.

#lizzaneiaelizalde #yandere writing #yandere imagines #yandere male #tw yandere #yandere boyfriend #male yandere x reader #yandere x darling #yandere x you #yandere fic

[onyourhyuck]

Sweater Weather. | J.JH (M)

prologue- “Sorry I talk too much didn’t I?” + “No no no, Not at all. Keep talking.”

tw- friends brother x fem y/n , sungchan is Jaehyun’s younger brother. y/n is tutoring Sungchan. fluff. Y/n has a big crush on Jae and he finds it rly cute. Hyper talkative girl x boy who always listens. Potential smut in part 2 if this fic does well.

notes- tbh I was listening to sweater weather and I thought about a sweet shy girl who’s acc talkative and has lots to say but nobody ever listened to her </3

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You’re a freshmen at uni, a quietly soft spoken young student who wants to at least survive first year without dying from stress.

Everyone at campus knows how smart you are, hell you’re one of the students who gets full hundred on every subject, it shocks many to see your report card every year. Teachers love you and adore you.

Which is why when Sungchan one day approaches you by the lockers he immediately pleads for your help to solve his one life crisis problem— calculus class.

He said he will pay you fifteen a hour and that is why you agreed, but then something else played a huge part in your decision. It was his older brother who graduated this year, Jung Jaehyun. You never met him, but you surely heard a lot about him despite Jaehyun graduating not that long ago. The man was practically a legend at your campus. He had perfect grades, perfect attendance, he got all his degrees and ended up becoming really successful at whatever he’s doing now. Teachers go absolutely mental about him. He was a prodigy. Jaehyun even won a champion cup for the team’s football.

Now you weren’t going to lie, he was attractive, his face school photos were posted on the wall students of honour with every year a new student was picked out. Y/n day dreams about meeting such a perfect guy, hell now’s her chance. Sungchan needs her help and well Y/n can meet her idol..if that’s what you could call him.

So now you’re sitting on Sungchan’s bed composing yourself because you are settling into the background fact that you are— in a boy’s house for the first time since you could remember. You clear your throat when Sungchan comes back with a glass of cold iced water, he sits down on the bed next to you as he hands you it.

“Thank you for tutoring me y/n, I know it was really weird to ask because we aren’t close at all.” The boy tells and you shake your head politely sipping the cold beverage down. “I’m glad to help you out so it’s nothin’ don’t worry about it.”

He smiles nodding. “Thanks again.”

“So… what exactly are you struggling in calculus?” You put the glass down on the beside table so it wouldn’t bother both of you when studying. Y/n crawls on the bed crossing her legs as you watch Sungchan who opens the math text book rubbing the back of his long mullet hair from behind.

The boy looks like a confused lost bambi who knows nothing. Which wasn’t a good sign for Y/n but nothing hard can’t be overcome without practice.

“How about, everything?…”

You bite your bottom lip watching the boy who smiles dumbly. You nod slowly looking down at the identical text book except that one was yours. Your voice croaks out into jambles. “Well let’s start from the very beginning then.” This was no ordinary task it seems.

Sungchan nods with a grin. “Alright professor y/n.”

The two kept themselves busy talking amongst themselves solely about the subject. The girl was quite firm with her way of teaching though she never meant to be harsh and blunt, there wasn’t any way to put out and explain such a subject in nicer terms. In other words, there wasn’t any way to sugar coat it. Calculus was a very blunt subject, not everyone will be guaranteed to get it on first try— Y/n was simply just one of the few percentages who did get it by a click of a thumb.

It was fascinating though. Sungchan could start to get the areas he struggled with and that was definitely an improvement in this long session. There was something about the way that he found Y/n teaching was way more easier and simpler to understand than half of the teachers actually teaching at the campus. He felt truly relieved to see him figuring some of the problems on his own.

“I think I’m getting it.” Sungchan exclaims loudly with a vicarious smile, standing up from his bed and stretching. “Let’s take a short break, I really need to go to the toilet.”

Y/n nods as she looks at the time on her phone screen. 5.00pm. You could sacrifice three more hours here before going home. You let out a sigh as Sungchan opens the door.

“Oh by the way y/n if you need anything just ask. I’ll be right back okay?”

Sungchan left the room and this was probably where you’re trespassing on grounds you shouldn’t be. You stood up from the bed and left the bedroom, you make your way into the kitchen to explore. I mean surely, a little exploring wouldn’t hurt right?

Plus it’s not like you’re up to no good. You’re innocently wondering about to stretch your legs. Yes that was exactly it.

“You’re Sungchan’s friend right?”

A deep voice struck you from behind causing your feet to slip and turn on the heels, immediately met with a familiar face you could only see on picture but now it was face to face. He was breathing the same air as you. Y/n raises her eyes in surprise.

“O-oh.” You stutter out, mind went blank and you were unable to think of what to reply. Jaehyun closes the front door as he took his shoes off, seemingly back from work it looks like. Jaehyun turns to face y/n again. “You’re y/n I believe?”

How does he know my name, you exclaim in your head. Your idol knows your name. Y/n practically felt her legs tremble a little, she’s more than sure jaehyun took notice of that too.

“Uhm, yeah that’s me. Hi.” You awkwardly wave. He gives a kind smile at your very visible abnormal gesture.

He looks around loudly speaking in the hallways. Their modern apartment complex was really spacious but closed all in together making it perfect to make short trips between each room, it never felt claustrophobic. “Sungchan! I’m home.”

Jaehyun reveals. The door slams open with Sungchan running out the bathroom with wet hands as he dried them on his shorts.

“Hyung! Hey, you met y/n.” He grins ear to ear as he wraps an arm around your shoulder on the side. You give a soft smile as Jaehyun looks at his brother and you looking real comfy in the embrace.

“I did meet y/n. You never told me she was really pretty.” Jaehyun trails and Sungchan looks at y/n with one eyebrow raised. “I didn’t really pay attention to that. Uh hyung!” He calls out again.

“Did you know y/n is a prodigy in my class just like you were?”

Jaehyun stops midway as he turns to eye y/n up and down. He visible could see right through your body as if it was an open x-Ray for open visiting to view. You mentally could curse out Sungchan because the title enough was as pressuring to keep up with standards but nevertheless, to be called a prodigy was also really a knockout for y/n.

She wasn’t really successful she was just doing good at classes. In other words she’s a big geeky nerd who has no life but to study so she’s doing what she has to do to make her parents proud. Since she never came from a rich family she doesn’t have much hope from other people’s expectations. So might as well make it big career wise.

Especially if she cannot get a boyfriend… hell even a girlfriend alone itself. Y/n truly believes she’s destined to be alone and die alone. She even told herself that she will end her family’s bloodline because she’s an only child and there’s no way she will get married with the amount of social skills she has let along flirting skills. She has no bitches.

Plus. No one has ever called her pretty before. Jaehyun was the first one to ever do so. You grit yourself teeth together forcing out a soft laugh as you spat words of confusion at the boy only audible to him.

“What. Are. You. Saying. Sungchan-”

The boy clears his throat. “It’s true. Your report cards are seriously the best of the best in our year.” Jaehyun hums walking forward as he leans down to take a closer look at y/n. The girl took one step back slowly to keep a decent distance gap between the tall man who was eyeing her out of sudden.

“It’s really nice to see another prodigy other than myself.” Jaehyun softly tells. He reaches his hand on your head petting it down the head lovingly, with a praise leaning his soft pale baby pink lips. “Good job y/n, keep up the good work for four years and you’ll definitely get somewhere.”

No one has ever praised you before, not even your parents, at least not in a way jaehyun just did. usually you’d get a good work or well done, but nothing so detailed to the point it made your body shut down as well as your brain. You felt your eyes eyelashes curl, your lips prickle with excitement unable to hide the happy smile because when those words hit your ears they begin to perk up like a happy dog would when wagging their tail. Your round apple cheeks squirm, the way your voice increased up one or two octaves.

Jaehyun saw light enter your light amber brown eyes and he just knew from the moment he complimented you, you were probably the most happiest human.

Sungchan clears his throat bringing Y/n into reality where she broke eye contact with the older man to look at the boy who had his hand wrapped tight. “Y/n you might need to help me with English too..I’ll pay you extra.”

you hawk your eyes at Sungchan. You were sure if you could stay for that long, but if the boy was really struggling then there was little to no choice here. You mutter.

“Okay but i’ll need to let my mum know about that.” You nervously smile. “You see I was supposed to home by at least round 7.00”

Jaehyun scolds the young boy quick. “Yah don’t tell me you didn’t think about her personal life.” Sungchan clears his voice. “Of course I did…I really need help with English too I just realised.”

You were quick to defend Sungchan even though staying over at Sungchan’s house any longer was surely going to kill you inside and out knowing that jaehyun is home now; your heart wasn’t sure if it could handle being anything near the man now. “I- I mean I can handle it.”

Jaehyun would tut his lips sealing them together. It looks like he had a lot to say but he didn’t bother speaking it out freely. Sungchan drags you back into his room where you two started working on English. Knowing the amount of time you guys have spared before you had to go was enough to push the younger boy to his limits to know the basics.

As you were working with Sungchan your thoughts were flooded with many distractions; all of those happening to do with Jaehyun, surprising right?

The boy murmurs a few nonsense lines that you blocked out of your head until Sungchan was constantly shouting your name now.

“Y/n? Helloooo, earth to y/nnnn.”

Nothing but a dazedly eyes looking in the distance with a lovestruck smile and heart eyes growing back to the moment jaehyun seemingly praised you for your hard work that you were blindly doing just because it seemed like it was the best choice.

Sungchan exclaims loudly. “Y/n! Wake up.”

Y/n flinches at the raise of his voice turning round to him with a soft ‘huh’ coming out your lips. You blink a few times as Sungchan motions to the English text book and you clear your voice.

“God y/n what were you deeply thinking about?” Sungchan scolds quietly. You rub your neck anxiously, couldn’t help but think to yourself, your hot ass brother.

“I was just dozing off into dream land. Anyways, that word means beautiful.” You trail pointing your thumb on the textbook. Sungchan would ‘ooh’ as you silently go back to teaching him again. Until a knock would be heard and Sungchan turns to the door, groaning. “Come in hyung.” He tells.

the door creams half ajar open before slowly revealing the tall figure in a white tank top revealing his muscular arms as well as broad shoulders, grey sweatpants that were loosely fitting round his crotch and legs area. He had messy brushed out hair and his face was hauntingly gorgeously pale with soft pinkish lips and brown piercing eyes ready to launch and pierce y/n’s heart in half.

Jaehyun leans on the doorframe with one hand as he relaxes the other under his tank top shirt, scratching his milk-chiselled abs he slowly reveals.

“So since y/n is staying over for tonight. What do you guys want to eat?” He really pin printed the conversation on you to be honest, jae knows well Sungchan would eat anything. Sungchan looks over at the girl who shyly looks down.

“I’ll eat anything that Sungchan wants to eat.” Y/n mentions. Jaehyun hums. “Don’t be shy if you want something you can go and get it. I’m already grateful for the fact that you’re taking your entire free day to tutor my helpless brother.”

Sungchan pouts hearing his brother as he immediately shoos him out. “Ah hyung you really don’t need to mean smack talk me with her.” Jaehyun grins as he pushes Sungchan out of his way. “Ay come on, also go and make something to eat then because y/n will eat whatever you’ll eat.”

Sungchan nods as he left without a complaint to go and sort something out for dinner. This means that jaehyun would be left alone with y/n. Just the thought of this left the girl wondering scenarios… so many scenarios in her head.

The man slowly approaches on the edge as he sits on Sungchan’s bed with y/n next to her. He grabs with his hands softly y/n’s english journal where she keeps all her work from classes in. He would flicker through the pages as he was analysing everything from the first page to the very last which would be recent.

The handwriting was pretty cursive and jaehyun couldn’t help but think that the girl was really organised, pretty handwriting and hella smart. He had to admit she was determined and for someone who’s lived in America for four years, she was pretty skilled in English— especially because she never been to America once in her life.

Y/n shyly looks down at her fiddling thumbs before jaehyun puts her book down. He soon expressed approval in his lingering deep husky voice.

“You’re really impressive you know that, y/n?” He turns to the quiet girl who said nothing but nod. Jaehyun couldn’t help but be intrigued and pulled further to getting to know the young girl. “What do you want to be when you’re older?”

He asked such a long deep question that y/n herself was still trying to figure out. She just wants to be someone successful maybe someone important too. Because if anything she didn’t feel special once in her life until she met jaehyun,

He makes her feel good inside and outside. He saw y/n start to contemplating the question as her voice begins to waver.

“Uhm well, someone successful and important I guess.” She murmurs. “I guess I’ll be whatever my parents want me to be.”

Jaehyun tilts his head. “But won’t that be your parents and not yourself?” The man guessed and the girl lightly shrugs.

He was right in many ways. It wouldn’t really be her dream or her life if she was to follow her parents choices. She sits up straight and Jaehyun was quick to ask again, another deep question.

“I’m going to ask again. What do you really want, yn?”

“I want to be someone’s special someone. I never really experienced a relationship and it would be nice to have someone that loves me as much as I love them. Plus, i was alone most of my childhood so it wouldn’t hurt to have a person who’s sorta like my safe place..?”

In reality you really only need someone who would understand you on an emotional level that you could spend the rest of your life with. You’re an old child with busy parents who always worked to make a living for you. Growing up poor was hard enough. Now you’re doing everything to become rich but in all Saint truth,

You were really just needing someone to love you. Jaehyun gives a reassuring smile as he reaches to softly stroke your head as you look down unable to make enough of a long eye contact with Jaehyun. He hums in awe.

Then you realised that you basically dumped your deep rooting problems on a guy you just met. Y/n was quick to turn to Jaehyun with defensive hands shaking them softly.

“Sorry I talk too much didn’t I?” Y/n insists forward as her eyes were droopy eyed feeling like a massive burden. Jaehyun was quick to protest as he wraps his hands with y/n’s interlocking them. Reassuring her slowly.

“No no no, Not at all. Keep talking.” Jaehyun smiles watching the girl slowly come out of the shell. She might seem like a timid little fragile thing, but he swears there is so much more underneath the first impressions he’s getting. People just haven’t been making effort to get to know this wonderful person.

You felt as if jaehyun just understood you. You didn’t feel judged and this made you feel…so much more comfortable round him.

There was something so pleasant to hear her speak and jaehyun for a moment believed he were bewitched by your sweet longing voice.

“How do you feel about going on a trip with me and Sungchan down to my family’s private villa?”

Y/n blinks looking forward at the man in front, half confused if she heard him correctly but when her eyes didn’t deceive her she slowly gasps. Jaehyun couldn’t help but chuckle hearing her reaction as well as seeing it. It was..innocently cute.

“I- me? At your private villa? Oh no that’s… too much to accept.” You mutter out confused. He scoffs gently. “Who said so? Plus I want to get to know you more. I promise it’s not going to be intimidating.”

You purse your lips into a thin line. “If..Sungchan says yes then I’ll go.”

Jaehyun smiles ear to ear. “Deal.”

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@onyourhyuck please refer from translating copyrighting and plagiarising my work thank youu<3 pls reblog this fic it helps a girl out and follow me for more to stay updated for more fics.

I’m sorry but shy girls who are actually super hyperactive and talkative when comfortable are the cutest. I don’t make the rules up. Who else wants a PART 2? If you do Lemme know bc I actually enjoyed writing this <3

#nct fanfiction #nct smut #nct x reader #nct u scenarios #nct hard hours #jaehyun hard hours #jaehyun fluff #jaehyun fanfic #nct jaehyun #jaehyun smut #Jaehyun hard thoughts #nct 127 smut #nct fic #nct recs #jaehyun #jung jaehyun #nct fanfic #nct drabbles

[nevsbunny]

favourite : rafe cameron fics 🚬

this will be a growing post where I will add more over time. I do take fic recommendations too. Don't be afraid to submit some.

Toxic!rafe by @rafecameroninterlude

angst | cheating

The pool deck by @prettyg1irlstears

smut | bfb!rafe

drabble by @prettypinkprincessa

love this drabble<3

sleepover champion by @sunniepoo

pure fluff

the red means I love you by @rafesmuse

smut, murder | 5k words

frate!rafe x tutor!reader doing selfcare Sunday by @rafecameroninterlude

fluff | drabble<3

#rafe cameron #outer banks #rafe x reader #rafe cameron x reader #nevsbunny #⊹ ⋆꒰ఎ ♡ ໒꒱ ⋆ﾟ⊹

[seravphs]

ੈ♡˳·˖✶ — NAGI SEISHIRO x FEM READER

There’s nothing as annoying as a genius, especially one that’s better than you. When you break your ankle, being forced to train the newest member of the team brings out the worst side of you - but also possibly the best?  

wc — 4.5k

tags — figure skating au, tutor au, hardworking star athlete reader x lazy genius Nagi, sports injury, self doubt, “I’m always the challenger, never the champion” quote is from Yuzuru Hanyu, title from FOB song

One more.

You’re so close to victory you can almost snap your jaws around it. The smell of it is familiar. It’s the tang of bloody split knees and the old penny copper of chewing through your lip.

Cold sweeps over your body, not from the icy air, but the proximity to greatness. This is the moment. You can feel the gold medal in your grasp already.

It’s the cleanest program you’ve ever skated by far. The cheers and gasps of the audience in response to each perfect rotation has your blood singing. You make a sharp turn on the very tip of your skate to prepare for the final jump, drawing your arms in close to your chest like a hug.

The music swells to a crescendo as you tip your head back, letting the blood rush to your brain. There’s a certain zone you hit when the moment is just right, a little like runner’s high. Like an elixir of liquid gold sparking through your veins, it’s addictive. It dances through you, making you feel light enough to attempt this last jump.

“Don’t go for it if you don’t feel ready,” you remember Coach Prince telling you.

You wouldn’t if you thought you couldn’t make it, but everything about this program has felt so right. This is the culmination of everything you’ve trained so hard for this entire year. Each breath crystallizes in your lungs, a beautiful ache in your rib cage as you feel yourself succumb to the lure of the ice.

You want it.

You’ve never desired anything this badly in your entire life, and you’re going to take it. You deserve it. There’s a violence to your thoughts, a sort of desperation. This is a moment you’ve dreamed of over and over, the seconds before you hit the peak, just like all of the skaters you’ve looked up to before.

You hear it before you feel it, a crunching noise. There was a hole on the ice just two centimeters in front of your foot. The jagged edge caught onto your skate when you lept, throwing off the angle of your entry point into the air. With that one mistake, your entire jump is wrong. Your momentum falters too fast, too much, and you’re falling, falling.

The sound of your body slamming into the ice is sickening. For a second, you’re dazed, left wondering what went wrong. There’s no more screams of joy or applause.

Your coach is on the ice, murmuring something into your ear that you can’t hear, but you try to push him away. If he’s here, that means something is seriously wrong. You try to pull yourself up, because even a failed jump doesn’t completely destroy your program. If you can at least finish-

You can’t get up.

Frozen, you look over your shoulder to where your legs are sprawled behind you. Your ankle is twisted in an ugly direction, your foot pointing the wrong way.

“Don’t look,” Coach Prince is saying, but it’s too late. You resist the urge to throw up.

It’s over.

Your dream of being the greatest has died, right here with your broken bones on the ice.

You were never a masochist before the accident. Something must’ve happened when you slammed into the ground to rewire your brain. Why else would you be here, putting yourself through the sweet torture of watching everyone else accomplish what you couldn’t?

“Man, there is something wrong with you.”

“Hi to you too, coach.”

“I hope you’re not here to skate.”

“I’m not that dumb,” you say. He doesn’t know that you’ve already decided to hang up your skates. This is the last tournament you’ll ever compete in.

“How’s the ankle? You should be resting at home, not here. Doesn’t it irritate you to watch people skate when you can’t?”

“Real sensitive of you,” you say sarcastically. Predictably, he ignores you.

“Listen, I got this kid-“

“No.”

“Come on! He’s new, he’s got to learn the ropes somehow. He’s a prospective! You were one, once.”

You wouldn’t be a good role model, anyway.

“Ask Barou.”

“They don’t like each other.”

“Ask Reo.”

His sudden silence reminds you what you already know. Reo’s too busy skating to introduce a newbie to the ice. Everyone is - the start of the season is always crammed full of training. You’re the only one who’s free, because you’re the only one who can’t train.

“Where is he?”

Coach Prince ignores the bitterness in your tone. He’s good at ignoring you - must be lots of practice.

Looking at Nagi Seishiro, you wonder why you even bothered. This boy is not going to be a skater. You’re surprised someone even got him to the rink - someone, because it clearly wasn’t him.

How is this boy even alive?

He stirs, dispelling your fears that perhaps a sloth had been mistaken for a human boy and deposited at the rink.

“Hello? Nagi?”

All you get is a groan in response. You’re starting to get annoyed.

“I’m here to show you the ropes.”

“Five minutes,” he whines.

You’re going to kill coach. Just who did he dump on you?

It’s with great effort that you get Nagi onto the ice, but at least he takes to it like a bird to water. Someone must’ve at least taught him the basics.

“Aren’t you going to get on the ice?”

“With this ankle?” You laugh. “This isn’t a class and I’m not your coach. I’m just here to walk you through some of the easy moves.”

Sometimes you help out with the beginner class. Coach likes to walk you or Reo out for demonstrations. Reo’s popular because he’s beautiful and well-known, so the students worship every move he makes.

As for you, your love for skating is infectious. It bleeds through in every lutz and axel, unbearably exposed. Every class with an appearance from you ends with students burning with the desire to extend their training into the next hour, and the next, and the next.

It makes it easy to get Nagi used to some easy jumps. To your surprise, no matter what variation you add, he nails all of them.

It’s just a little strange when he has no experience. Still, Nagi doesn’t seem like one of Prince’s pranks, if only because it looks like he’d have no energy to be involved in something like that. You decide to give him something a little harder.

“It’s okay if you can’t get it on the first try,” you tell him. “It took me a while and coach says I’m still one of the fastest students who ever got it.”

“Uh-huh,” Nagi says, and takes off across the ice.

He does a few laps to warm up. It’s a good call - most new skaters try to launch into a jump immediately, fearing they’ll lose their nerve if they don’t do it now. It’s a rookie mistake.

Nagi jumped like gravity was nothing more than a lightly amusing joke. He made it look effortless, even as you watched the muscles in his leg contract and release in an all too familiar way. You know that move. You’ve made it yours with hours of effort put into perfecting it.

Without trying, Nagi takes it for his own. The arc his skates carve through the ice and into the air steals your breath from your lungs. You’ve never seen anything like it. Even if you wanted to, you wouldn’t be able to tear your eyes away from the beauty of it, frost following him through the air.

He lands, his face impassive even as you replay that moment over and over in your mind. Your blood sings with the reminder of how good skating can feel. Nagi’s leap mesmerized you. Even when you blink, he’s there, silhouetted against the black of your eyelids.

He hangs in the air, a snapshot at the height of the perfect jump that caught you unaware. Beauty that hunted and trapped you when you hadn’t even realized you were being stalked.

There’s a longing in your heart that can’t be quelled. When Nagi skates back over, you turn away. You don’t want him to see the look on your face. It’s too vulnerable.

Letting him see the miserable awe for his jump, the love that still remains despite how badly this sport has hurt you, would be like opening up your chest so he can make a display of your heart and lungs. You can’t.

“Was that good?”

“Fine.”

He shrugs. “I’m taking a break then.”

You shoot back around. “What? No! Get back on the ice.”

He stops, hovering in the doorway, halfway between the ice and the outer world.

“Huh? Why? I did it.”

“But you can do it better. You have real talent, but talent is nothing without skill. You have to train.”

“I don’t wanna.”

Throwing up your hands in disgust, you walk away. You won’t train someone who’s not willing.

Even if you see his skating in your dreams that night.

It really isn’t healthy for you to be at the rink every day when there’s nothing for you to do, but you still attend religiously after your physical therapy sessions. Reo, kind soul that he is, holds the door open for you.

“My friend is here, by the way,” he says conversationally as he walks you to your usual room. He offered to carry your bags. “He’s on your usual rink because - you know. I hope you don’t mind.”

It’s a broken ankle, not cancer. You wish everyone would stop skating around it. Even if it’s ruined your dreams, you can recognize that you’re the problem. It wouldn’t be so serious if you weren’t so diehard about skating.

But then again, doesn’t it say something that everyone else is just as dedicated? They can share your feelings, if not your methods of dealing with it. You’re more no nonsense than they are, but these are still the people that trained with you for years. That culture has leaked into you as it has into them.

A love.

A fever.

A sickness.

The walk to your side of the facility is just long enough that you have time to wonder who Reo let tag along. Maybe it’s the German genius, Michael Kaiser, though you hadn’t heard they were close. Or his model friend, Yukimiya, who sometimes skated recreationally.

It’s neither.

On your ice, you find the sloth, skating in slow figure eights.

You’re stunned. “What are you doing here?”

“I signed up,” Nagi said, casual as anything.

“You? The same person who gave up on skating immediately?”

“I see you met your new teammate!”

“Coach?” You splutter in shock, trying to understand the situation.

“Nagi’s decided to join us! I have an open spot, so he’s on Team Prince now.”

Nagi tilts his head. “So I’ll be skating with her?”

“Nope! You’re in singles, I’m just coaching both of you. When she gets better, your training times might overlap. You could learn a thing or two from her, you know!”

“I might not skate again,” you say, but you know he won’t take you seriously.

“She’s just kidding,” he laughs predictably. “Come on, let me show you this combo I taught her. Let’s see if you can beat her time.”

Neither of them get it. Your training center is full of men - you’re technically not even supposed to be there. Anri’s supposed to be your coach, but she took a pregnancy leave. She texted you the day the news broke. You still haven’t responded. You don’t know what to say.

For you, it’s not like it is for them.

You know the story. Male athletes can come back from something like this, but all women do is fall further and further down a slippery slope. Every woman who’s made it the top of the podium crashes soon enough. Two years is counted as a long run.

They push your bodies to the limit and marvel as they break down. The first fracture is only the beginning of a long and drawn out medical history.

The crowd begins to wane. They hear that you’re skating on glass. Another bad break hospitalized you for the second time. People are losing faith. Sponsors stop pouring money into you. Coach Prince has to stop training you because they won’t pay him. You go to someone else, someone worse.

They push you too hard. An almost-Olympic champion falling in their lap! They think this is their lucky break. They try to wring you dry, and in the process, your body collapses for the third time. A ligament or a tendon, it doesn’t matter. Something gives.

You keep trying, and trying, and trying, but all it does is make people pity you. Eventually, the pity turns to disgust. It’s never good to look desperate.

Your career fades out like a shooting star, the tail end a sad, messy streak that mars what could’ve been a sterling career.

You’d rather die than let that happen. It’s better to quit here, on your own terms. Better to let people remember you as the champion you were, rather than the has-been who didn’t know when to give up.

Even if it stings to know how close you could’ve gotten.

Recovery passes more quickly that you would’ve expected. It helps that you refuse to look at calendars. Counting the days would only make you strain against the chains of your cast. You don’t want to know until it’s here - it would be too painful.

“Hey, hey,” Coach says as soon as you walk through the doors. Nagi sets off a party popper. Confetti rains on you. They’re both wearing party hats. “It’s the returning champion!”

“What’s all this?” You set your gear on the ground, mindless to their little show. You’re still thinking about how you’re going to broach the topic of your retirement.

“I got the good news from the team doctor. Looks like you’re all ready to go, huh?”

This is a bad time, but will there ever really be a good one?

“Coach, I have something to tell you.”

“Come on,” he laughs, “no need to be dramatic. I don’t need the big speech - I know you’re going to work hard. We’ll get you back to number one in no time.”

“I’m quitting.”

“Huh?” Surprisingly, it’s Nagi that’s loudest, not Coach Prince.

“This is going to be my last championship.”

“Come on,” Coach Prince says, stunned. “You’re joking, right? After one injury?”

“I’m getting too old for this-“

“You’ve barely started!”

“I’ve hit my peak. You know how it is in this sport.”

He does know. The ice is fickle with her lovers. There’s always someone better and younger.

“But you’re good,” Nagi interrupts.

“You’ve never seen me,” you laugh. You’re a little pleased despite yourself that he cares.

“I’ve watched your videos. It’s why I came.”

That gives you pause.

“You make it look fun. You’re always smiling on the ice. I thought you liked it.”

“You hear that?” Coach says, his tone colored by desperation. “You can’t give up when you have a fan right here!”

“I’m not a fan,” Nagi argued. “I just thought, looking at her, that it might be fun too.”

“So basically you’re a fan.” At least coach ignores Nagi as much as he ignores you. He turns to you. “Isn’t that cute? He joined for you!”

“I didn’t say that,” Nagi says.

“You’re the reason he’s going to be in the competition next week. Give him something to look up to.”

Your blood runs cold. All of your warm feelings for Nagi disappear immediately. “What? He just got here.”

“This kind of talent is a once in a century thing,” coach continues, oblivious to your growing dismay. “We have to strike while the iron’s hot.”

You make your excuses and slip away. They taught you meditation in preparation for easing you off your pain meds. You didn’t think you’d be using it to calm yourself down enough to avoid a completely unreasonable tantrum.

It’s not Nagi’s fault he’s good.

It still sends you home from the rink until the next day.

It hurts.

But it doesn’t matter anymore. You’re giving your skating the bare minimum. Training just enough to keep you in the race. It’s not like you’ll win, anyway. You lace up your skates in the changing room, trying to convince yourself of that fact.

It’ll sting less if you kill the hope now, but you can’t help it. You’re still dreaming of gold. You can’t rid yourself of the want, even when you know it’s impossible.

Your phone buzzes.

Nagi won. Congratulate him. - P.

You stare at the text. Not only are you reminded that your coach is actually old, enough so that he actually signs off on his texts, you get to have Nagi’s talent shoved in your face.

It makes you mean. You’re itching to pick a fight.

Skating usually helps you burn off the excess energy, but you have to take it easy on your ankle. The few laps you allow yourself do nothing before Nagi, the person you wanted to see least, opens the door to the rink.

You can’t help yourself.

“Coach Prince tells me you won the competition,” you call.

Nagi skates closer. “Yeah.”

“Must be nice,” you sneer at him. “When have you ever tried for something you wanted? You’ll never know what it’s like.”

You’re always the challenger, never the champion. Even though you love skating, you can’t remember a time when you felt comfortable on the ice. There’s only ever been the desire to jump higher, land better combinations.

You can’t remember a time when you felt secure as the best. It’s a vicious competition. You only win if you stay hungry.

Nagi seems willing to starve. It irks you - all this talent going to waste. If anyone was going to have so much natural aptitude, it should’ve been you or Reo or even Kunigami - someone who would’ve used it.

Nagi shrugs. “At least I don’t give up when it gets hard.”

You bristle. “I never give up.”

“I dunno,” Nagi says, eyes closed like arguing with you is too much work for him. You want to wrench his hair for the disrespect. He could at least look at you if he’s going to talk back - you’re sure you never treated your coaches like this. Never mind that you’re not actually his coach. “This seems a lot like giving up to me.”

“What do you know?” You scoff.

“Nothing. Wanna show me?”

“Excuse me?”

“Like the first time. Show me the jump again.”

You know you’re rising to his provocation, but you can’t help yourself.

Even warming up doesn’t feel right anymore. The ice that once cradled you comes to you as an enemy. You were friends once, you remember. You knew the right place to touch so it would welcome you in, like a shared secret.

That knowledge is lost now, ruined with your mangled bone. It was fought for back then. You earned it with your blood, sweat, and tears.

It’ll have to be won back now.

You travel in slow rotations across the ice. Thankfully, Nagi adds no pressure. He just watches silently as you start to build speed and momentum, feeling out the right method. You can’t rely on muscle memory today. It’s too dangerous when you’ve just healed.

Even the slightest hint of wrongness in your ankle cracks your fragile psyche, but you keep moving. It’s been a long time since you had to pretend to be confident on the ice. You took the real thing for granted.

Finally, when you kick the speed just one notch higher, you feel it call. This is the tempo, and just two feet ahead is the perfect launch point.

The muscles in your legs tense as you pour all of your focus into the takeoff. You release like a spring, launching yourself off the ice with all the energy you’ve pushed against it. The air feels cold and crisp against your face, stinging your lungs as you gulp it down, but this is the pain you missed.

You land just a second too soon, but you avoid any real damage. The landing vibrates through your body, a fall too heavy to be professional. Once or twice doesn’t matter, but over and over will wear down your joints.

It’s a problem that you only had at the start of your career, but at least Nagi can’t tell. He’s looking at you with a spark in his usually disinterested eyes.

“Well?” You challenge.

“Looks like fun,” he says, and then he’s going for it.

You hate that Nagi’s jumps are a thing of beauty.

Every line of his body moves into the right place without his even having to think about it. You know it’s instinctual because there’s no way he learned all of the correct forms in days, but the tips of his fingers line up with his wrists and elbows to create the perfect arc.

Suspended in the air, he’s Michelangelo’s David, the peak of the human form.

It reminds you of the first time you saw him skate.

You’re breathless, watching, wanting. Hungry for that talent. The ease of it. The joy.

Nagi touches icy fingers to your cheek. You flinch away, but not before you catch the wetness on them. You feel impossibly brittle, like glass. If someone looked at you wrong, you’d shatter. Even your bones feel too fragile.

“Are you okay?”

“Get back to it,” you snap, then apologize. You roughly scrub your tears away and try to give him a shaky smile.

You don’t know why you’re being like this. It’s just a sport.

But it’s never been just a sport to you.

“Was it that bad?”

“Shut up,” you laugh. “You know you’re incredible. I heard Prince tried to teach you one of my signature moves. Show me.”

“Yes, coach.”

You smile despite yourself. “Prince is your coach. I’m just-“

You shut your mouth rather than think about it harder. You’re not willing to commit yourself to helping him, not when you know you won’t stay. “Give it a try,” you say instead.

Even hours after the session, you can’t stop thinking about Nagi’s jump. It was yours once, that effortless grace. All of that beauty in the palm of your hand.

You’re trying to be mature about it, but there’s a feeling that you can’t suppress. It’s normal to be replaced. That’s what this sport is about - seconds of glory.

It’s supposed to be enough, your fleeting fame. You knew it when you came into your career. You’ve had years to come to terms with it, and still, it’s hard.

You didn’t think it would be so soon.

And it’s not just Nagi, who’s only in a competition with you in your head. Soon, the next wave of girls will be nailing quads at younger and younger ages, doing things you would never be able to do even if you were their age. That’s just the way it is.

Nagi’s the only one who doesn’t seem to understand that.

“Are you really going to quit after this season? You’re too good to stop now. You should stay.”

“It’s not happening, Nagi. I told you.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?” You expected him to fight.

“Okay,” he says, snatching your beanie off your head and running.

You’re left standing in a moment of shell-shocked silence before you give chase. What a fucking brat. You’re just catching up when Nagi pushes himself through that doorway and launches onto the ice, leaving a crystal spray on his wake.

You freeze with your hand on the swinging plastic half-door. He’s gone where you can’t follow. Your ankle aches. You weren’t prepared to get on the ice today. It had taken you every hour of your entire commute yesterday to convince yourself to approach it.

“Come on,” Nagi goads, still in that lazy way of his. It irritates you like nothing else to see him so nonchalant when he can rile you up so easily. “Come and get it if you want it.”

The ice still scares you. Your ankle hurts a little, and you’re not sure if it’s a phantom pain or the cold leaching into your bones. You’re getting too old for this, after all. Figure skaters had early expiry dates.

Still, something ignites under your breast bone as you watch the little red flag of your beanie float further and further away from you. Nagi isn’t even really trying, making soft loops around the ice.

Come and get it if you want it.

You want it. There’s a fire burning in your gut. Even the old memory of ambition sears at your insides, kindling scraps of gold medal dreams into a roaring flame. Desire runs a steady drip through you, bleeding through every artery.

The first step onto the ice happens with brute force. You grit your teeth as you physically make yourself do it, breaking each step of the movement down.

Shift your weight to your left foot.

Lift your right leg.

Put it down on the ice.

Dig your skate in.

Lift your left leg.

Put it down on the ice.

One by one, each movement pulled out of you. You breathe through it, shaking with nerves. One after another, trying to think about it without thinking about it too hard until Nagi breaks your concentration.

“Too slow,” he says, zipping past you - still aggressively showing off how easy it is for him. How it takes no effort, while you’re straining to remember how to make this feel right.

It breaks something loose in your brain. All cognitive functions shut down. You go after him, not thinking, just acting.

Your fingers snag on the red fabric just as you remember to brake. Your body doesn’t. It’s going at a speed that would’ve been child’s play for you before you broke your ankle, but now you can’t control your skates. You slam into Nagi, knocking both of you down.

Terror flashes across your face at the memory of falling until you land not on hard ice, but an only incrementally softer chest. Nagi lies beneath you, cushioning your fall. You lift yourself up on your hands and knees, panting above him.

“You can still skate,” Nagi says, looking up at you with those quiet eyes. “You kept up with me.”

“Don’t get too full of yourself yet,” you scoff, hauling yourself off him. “I’ve got years of experience on you.”

“Then why stop now?”

Because it’s inevitable he’ll catch up. It took him days to learn what took you years.

He takes your hand when you offer it. “If you quit, I will to.”

“And?”

He blinks. “Shouldn’t I not quit? Coach said I was good.”

You stare at him in disbelief. It’s only more annoying that he’s being genuine about this.

“I don’t care whether you skate or not,” you say. “This is an individual sport.”

“But coach signed us up for doubles.”

“Excuse me?”

“He said it’s perfect. I’m new and you’re recovering.”

You’re going to be famous again. But this time, it’s going to be for a double homicide.

#sera writes #nagi seishiro x reader #nagi x reader #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader

[shakesthewizard]

Hi please explain about fabianxadaine???

Okay since you asked so nicely here's the fucking thing about Fabadaine

First, some background info

Before we dive in, you should know a couple things. For one, I'm a firm bad kid polycule truther. You could truly pitch me any pairing/grouping of those kiddos and I could find a really ineresting and/or sweet dynamic to eat the drywall about

You should also know that I'm gonna most likely remember some details during this analysis - if you spot them, please let me know by putting them in a bottle and throwing them into the ocean.

Second, some character meta

Adaine O'Shaughnessey is a girl with a lot of courage. It's sort of her defining character trait. The idea of "a wizard with an anxiety disorder" brings to mind someone pretty timid, who's afraid of speaking their mind. But from her first appearance, we see clearly that to Adaine, her disorder is pretty explicitly medical. On her first day of freshman year, she's already talking back to her horrible parents and trying to stand up for herself. Long before she gets access to medication, her disorder hinders her the way an asthma attack might; it has no bearing on her willingness to do the courageous thing.

Relatedly, Adaine thrives under adversity. Not abuse or mistreatment, mind - what I mean is that she likes it when people push back at her a little, so that she has opportunities to test her ideas and opinions against dissent. Look at her dynamic with Aelwyn in season three. Those two bicker and banter; they poke at each other, but it's how they're expressing things like concern or pride.

You could argue, probably well, that this is a product of sisterhood, and a product of their history in particular. But I think there's more to it than that. We see throughout the show that Adaine is a person who cares about exceeding; about learning and growing and achieving great things. It's classic wizard.

Adaine is the child of the wealthy and the important, and that shapes everything about her. It influences her struggles; her abandonment issues in particular. But it also shapes her goals, her values, and her attitudes. She seeks recognition for her skills and her labor, and she wants the people she loves to challenge her so that she can grow and make them proud.

Fabian Seacaster is the son of a famous man and a natural talent. His showmanship is clear and evident from the first moments we see him, and it's reflected in his character build from the start. He's a Champion Fighter, after all.

This showmanship is, frankly, a testament to Lou Wilson's masterful understanding of characters. That single trait can be picked apart to help us understand everything about him.

Fabian is a showman because he was raised as the scion of an up-and-coming house; given every tool he needed to learn his parents' skills, and to prepare him to take the Seacaster name when the time comes.

Fabian is a showman because he believes wholeheartedly in his own greatness. His whole life, he's been surrounded by tutors whose whole job it has been to mold him into the perfect son, and they were paid enough to care about doing it right.

Fabian is a showman because he knows he's earned his own arrogance; wealth or not, pampered lifestyle or not, we see him scold his fencing teacher when he goes easy on him. Fabian isn't blinded by his privilege (or at least not entirely) - he genuinely cares about being the best, and he'll give up the luxury if it means greatness.

Fabian is a showman because he's deeply anxious. Bill and Hallariel clearly love their son, but being the only child of a world-famous pirate, tasked with being their emissary to Solace for future generations, is an unbelievable amount of pressure. Fabian has to be perfect to the world outside. He can't just be good; he can't just be great; he has to be Fabian Aramais Seacaster, Son of the Famous Bill Seacaster!

Fabian is a showman because he has to figure out who he is, somehow. Who is he, outside of his father? He certainly doesn't know, but suddenly he realizes he has to know, for his own sake. So he does what any kid does when they're trying to figure out their identity - they act out.

Finally, what I understand about Fabadaine that nobody else does

Fabian Seacaster and Adaine O'Shaughnessey are the children of the wealthy; the important. They're both second generation Solesians, sent out to represent their families. They're both ambitious people who are trying to achieve great things outside the expectations of their parents. They're both proud and straightforward, prioritizing their values over social niceties.

Adaine and Fabian both carry the swords of their dead fathers.

To put it simply - Fabian and Adaine are really good foils for each other, and I dislike when their dynamic is reduced to classic highschool boyfriend/girlfriend tropes.

As an example, a number of fics I've read have Fabian pursuing Adaine, and that simply doesn't hold up. Let's be honest here - Fabian has terrible taste in women, and has a bad track record of making the more self-destructive choice whenever romance is on the table. I have no doubt he likes Adaine, but he would also know that she'd hold him accountable and challenge him when he makes stupid choices. No, Adaine is the one initiating here.

The thing that really draws me to this pair is because both of them need and want to be challenged, but each of them has a different attitude towards challenging others, and it makes for an active dynamic that can evolve in a lot of interesting ways.

You know what, check back later. I need to write fic about this.

#dimension 20 #fantasy high #adaine o'shaughnessey #fabian seacaster #fabadine

[growingstories]

The tennisclub

Benjamin is portrayed as a talented tennis player with promising potential. Coming from a wealthy family, his parents are constantly traveling, leaving him in the care of nannies. Benjamin's skill on the tennis court catches his father's attention, and he decides to build a luxurious tennis club for his son. By the time the club is completed, Benjamin is sixteen years old, and the facility boasts top-notch amenities such as tennis courts, an Olympic-sized pool, a gym, a bar, and a restaurant. The club becomes a success, with membership restricted to the affluent and influential.

To guide Benjamin's development, his father hires Michael, formerly a top ten tennis player and now an experienced coach. Michael, having grown in up a privileged family himself, understands the challenges of having uninterested parents. At thirty-five years old, Michael is handsome but has gained weight since his retirement. He lives comfortably off a trust fund and occasionally takes on coaching jobs to stay active and explore the world.

Michael devises a meticulous training schedule for Benjamin, starting each morning with cardio or HIIT training, followed by school. In the afternoons, Benjamin spends two hours practicing tennis, focusing on technique and skills, with fitness workouts scheduled three times a week. The provides club all the necessary resources to groom champions.

Under Michael's training regimen, Benjamin transforms from a skinny talented high and school tennis into player a muscular tennis machine within six months. As the competitive season commences, Michael is convinced that Benjamin is ready, and indeed, he starts winning match after match.

In order to compete on the global stage, Michael advises Benjamin to have a private tutor to ensure that his schooling is not neglected. The prestigious American private school that Benjamin attends offers this option. Regular tests are conducted to track his progress, and official exams are administered periodically.

Benjamin's tennis career skyrockets, and he even secures fashion endorsements. For Michael, this is paradise, as they are constantly surrounded by five-star hotels, enjoyable parties, and delectable cuisine. However, Michael discovers that he is putting on weight, with his clothes gradually becoming tighter. Deciding to a change make, he joins Benjamin for runs and incorporates fitness workouts into his routine. As a result, he manages to shed some of the extra weight.

At the age of eighteen, Benjamin wins his first Grand Slam tournament, marking a significant milestone in his career. After triumphing in all the events major that year, he takes a summer break in St Tropez with his family. The experience is filled with fun and adventure, and Benjamin becomes a star in the village. He receives invitations to parties on boats, as well as lavish dinners and lunches. One day, while riding a jet ski with a friend, Benjamin gets into a racing accident that leaves him with several broken bones, including his spine. He falls into a coma and remains unconscious two for weeks, eventually waking up to the news that his back has healed with the help of therapy. However, his ankle remains fragile, effectively ending his tennis career. Devastated, he returns home and begins therapy, realizing he must now pursue a different path without tennis matches.

In the meantime, Michael is offered a job as the head coach at the tennis club. During school hours, he teaches the lunch ladies, and in the evenings, he coaches adult players, often enjoying beers with them afterwards. Being a staff member grants him access to free meals, and he frequently receives invitations to lunch or dinner from his clients. However, since he no longer participates in Benjamin's training sessions, Michael falls back into old habits and becomes lazy. He opts for teaching sessions rather than working out on his own, leading him to gain weight once again.

When Benjamin returns to the club, he is shocked to see his old coach's significant weight gain. He playfully comments on Michael's size, and Michael admits his fault in letting himself go. On the contrary, Benjamin has transformed into a handsome man with a muscular physique after focusing solely on weightlifting during his recovery.

Feeling sorry for his friend and former coach, Benjamin offers to train together with Michael. They start off strong, but Michael soon succumbs to the allure of the club's temptations, including attractive women, free food and drinks, and parties. Eventually, he gives up on his efforts and gains even more weight. The decline of his personal training classes leads to him being hired as the general manager of the club, where his job mostly involves office work, attending parties, and managing events. Leading a sedentary lifestyle, he becomes significantly larger in size.

Despite his physical transformation and declining health, Michael is content with his life. He no longer sees the need to lose weight, embracing his newfound position and the pleasures it brings.

#fictionalweightgain #maleweightgain #maleweightgainstories #weightgain #weightgainstories #fictionalstories

[wondercircuit]

Karting Champion and tutor, Mike Wilson spoke about his first encounter with Lance during his karting days in an interview, with an interesting comparison to a young Fernando Alonso, whom he'd also mentored: "Before leaving I said to my wife: "The father told me that the boy is very good. But it's normal to say that, do you know how many times I've heard it before? I assure you that if he is not phenomenal, I will return home, I don't want to waste time". Instead, when I saw him on the track, I realised that his father had his reasons and that this was a special child, with something more than others. Above all I was surprised by his determination: it was greater than normal. And this is strange, because boys who comes from such wealthy families generally do not need to struggle to get anything; consequently, they are not very determined. Not him. Quite the contrary! Before him, the last boy I had seen with his "willingness" was Fernando."

"Lance drove well and listened to all the advice. I remember a ROK International Final in which he started from the front row, in second place. The commissioners decided to replace the clutch for the first four (a precaution to avoid misconduct …) and he, at the second restart, started badly due to an overheated clutch. He was among the last drivers, but he did not lose heart because of this: he put his head down and proved to be among the fastest on the track. If he had started further ahead he would have won the race, also because he managed to overtake without wasting time: if you can do this at 11 years of age, it's only because you have talent. If that inconvenience had happened to me, I would have been so annoyed that I would have stopped and returned to the pits. It was certainly not easy to tutor Lance in those years: I would stay on Canada for a month, then return to Italia for a few weeks. Then I would go back to Canada, and so on. With a wife and children at home it certainly wasn’t easy. But it gave me great satisfaction: when he would climb onto the podium it would be as if I was there with him. Making money is important in life, but doing something you like is better. At my age, I still manage to get emotional on the track, and staying close to Lance was emotional.” - source

#lance stroll #mike wilson #fernando alonso #formula 1 #inchresting supplementary info to me... #i swear i'm normal #*info #1418 chokehold aside and unrelated: #i've been reading jb's book and been thinking a lot about driver development. #this amuses no one but me but i find it interesting as well that a lot of jenson's driving strengths are similar to lance's #besides some notable differences in driving styles esp re: braking on turns #thinking about the anecdote where karting is said to be racing at its 'truest' form and once you latch onto a certain style #during your karting years then the foundation of it sticks throughout (past single seater driving development and adapting your skills/styl #anyway i do have mixed feelings about lance's development re: 2016 and his f1 rookie year tho that's neither here nor there #all this is just making me think once again i guess