These Poor Recruits - Blog Posts

Found some footage of unhinged!reader training rookies:

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMS8vnswe/

(Hi! I love your works, you're amazing!!)

I’M DYING LOL AND IT WORKS SOMEHOW. So, that got me thinking how would she train them…. Now we turn it into a Drabble/blurb [Confession: I don’t know the difference between those two yet LOL] Happy reading! Also greetings! Thank you so much, always so nice seeing you around. Thanks for following along!!! :D

Unqualified, Unhinged, and Unforgettable

Summary: A bunch of excited, hopeful rookies have the absolute displeasure honor of being trained under you.

Word Count: 700+

Main Masterlist | Earth’s Mightiest Headache Masterlist

The rookies were excited. Nervous, but excited.

After all, they’d been assigned to training with one of the Avengers. A respected, battle-hardened legend. Probably someone like Steve Rogers. Or maybe Natasha Romanoff! God, even Sam Wilson would be incredible.

“Wait,” One of them whispered. “Who’s that?”

You walked onto the training mat holding a stick of string cheese like a cigarette, wearing mismatched socks and aviators. You pointed the cheese at them.

“Morning, nerds.”

The recruits glanced at each other.

“…Are you the trainer?” One asked hesitantly.

You bit the cheese, chewed, and nodded. “Absolutely. Avengers’ top strategic mind. Fun fact, I have never successfully used a revolving door. You’ll respect me soon enough though.”

One recruit hesitantly raised their hand. “Why are you barefoot?”

“I fight better when grounded to the earth’s vibrations,” You replied. “Also I couldn’t find my shoes.”

And so began the most absurd training session in S.H.I.E.L.D. history.

-

Hour 1:

You paired them off. “First, pick a partner. Then pretend they just betrayed you in a high-stakes casino heist.”

They hesitated, looking around at each other as they tried to process the instruction. You shouted, “Feel the betrayal! Feel the drama! Slap them if you need to!”

One poor recruit started sobbing. Another screamed, “I LOVED YOU, TYLER,” and tackled their partner into a fountain.

You applauded. “Amazing. Raw and painful. That’s real combat.”

-

Hour 2:

You rolled a blender onto the mat with duct tape, Christmas lights, and three timers.

“This,” You announced dramatically, “is your bomb.”

“That’s a blender,” Someone whispered slowly.

You leaned in, deadly serious. “That’s what they want you to think.”

The rookies huddled, genuinely trying to figure it out. One made the mistake of cutting the red wire (which was actually a Twizzler). The blender turned on and shot glitter everywhere.

“That was a decoy,” You told them solemnly. “Now you’re covered in regret and sequins.”

-

Hour 3:

You took them on a “field simulation” which turned out to be a surprise shopping trip to IKEA.

“Navigate this labyrinth. Assemble a chair. Use only hex keys and trauma.”

Two recruits got lost in the kitchen model displays. One called you from inside a wardrobe. You refused to help.

“If you can’t escape IKEA,” You said, eating a meatball with your bare hands, “How will you escape Hydra?”

-

Aftermath

When the rookies returned to HQ, some crying, some covered in glitter, and one holding an emotional support fern; they were never the same.

But they were better, somehow. Sharper and unpredictable. Capable of disarming actual bombs and Swedish furniture with nothing but rage and a plastic fork.

Bucky found you later in the common room, sitting on the couch, eating marshmallows with chopsticks and watching a documentary on nuclear fission at max volume. You were also wearing his hoodie, which meant you were either thriving or about to cause an international incident.

He leaned in the doorway, arms crossed. “You turned those rookies into emotionally unstable weaponized gremlins.”

You didn't look away from the TV. “I prefer the term ‘innovative prodigies.’”

“They challenged Sam to a duel using plungers and grief metaphors.”

“They need to learn how to weaponize emotion. That’s day three material.”

“They built a working trebuchet and launched my motorcycle onto the roof.”

You finally turned to look at him. “And did it not work?”

Bucky stared at you. “You trained them for one day.”

You gave him a slow blink, then gently offered him a marshmallow with the chopsticks. “You love me.”

“I love you,” He said flatly, taking the marshmallow. “I also think you might be a war crime in human form.”

You grinned. “That’s the most romantic thing you’ve ever said to me.”

He walked over and dropped his head into your lap with a tired sigh, arm slinging around your waist. “Next time you train anyone, I’m sedating you first.”

“Won’t happen but that’s fair,” You said, petting his hair with one chopstick. “But you have to admit… they’re kind of unstoppable now.”

From down the hallway came a loud bang, a screech of victory, and someone yelling, “FOR SCIENCE AND THE POWER OF FRIENDSHIP!”

You sipped juice from your “World’s Best Trainer” mug and said softly, “My legacy begins.”

Bucky just groaned. “God help us all.”