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woso-dreamzzz · 4 months ago

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Youth Team IV

Hardersson x Teen!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: Your first youth game

The Denmark youth team calls you up on a random day.

Or, rather, they call your mothers who are more than happy to accept.

It's your first youth team call up and you can't help the nerves that settle in your stomach.

At first, everything goes smoothly. You meet the coach and the staff and you get settled in your room.

That's when training starts.

There's two other keepers to play with. They're both on the upper ends of the age range of the team. You're on the lower side.

They're worldly and smart and seem leaps and bounds ahead of you. They catch shots you could only dream of and seem like good friends, already having a solid relationship to pick up every time the international break comes around.

You're the outsider here, the girl that has to fly over from Sweden every time just to play in an international team. The girl that no one else here knows because she plays her football in Sweden. The girl that's so much younger than everyone else and took the spot of one of their friends.

The coaching staff have seen something in you that no one else can see, even you. You're young and untried and everyone keeps looking at you like they expect you to be some great talent.

As of yet, you haven't proven it which is why it's a surprise that you're the starting keeper for the match against France.

It's a surprise for everyone else too, if the way the other two keepers complain is anything to go by.

France is a tough opponent, even at the youth level and while this isn't a tournament, it still sets the bar for the future.

Your coach is trying out new positions and new rotations and new team chemistry. He takes no complaints.

You stay in the starting line-up no matter how many people complain.

You stay in the starting line-up no matter how many of the older girls give you a dirty look during training.

You understand why. You're the outsider here. You're the one taking the spot from their friends. You're the one that's appeared randomly and is taking away chances from others.

The match, as predicted, is incredibly difficult.

France have a good front line.

(One day, all of these girls will be in the senior team against you).

They press high. They press hard. They press fast.

Your defence falls apart before your very eyes.

One time, after a rough training session, Magda told you something in the car.

The goalkeeper is meant to be the very last option to stop a goal. If a defence is good then they should be able to stop a strike before it happens, before it manages to trouble the keeper. The sign of a good defence is when the goalkeeper doesn't need to save a single shot.

But the keeper is also in charge of the defence on the pitch.

The coach can tell the players anything before they're on the pitch but, in the heat of the moment, the keeper needs to remind the defence of their jobs.

Your first half is difficult with your defence making silly mistakes and playing like they've never been in the back line in their life.

France dominated possession and the amount of shots on target with the amount of space your defence has gifted them.

You come off the pitch pissed, unwilling to make eye contact with your mothers as you pass them in the stands.

You don't even want to look in Pernille's direction.

You're playing for her country right now. You don't want to disappoint her. You don't want her to look at you when you inevitably concede to France and lose Denmark the match.

"Hey," One of the older keepers says to you, standing in front of your cubby with her arms crossed over your chest.

You're sat down, leaning back against the wall as you stare at the gloves in your hand. Your energy drink sits next to you, half empty with the small chocolate bar Pernille always tells you to eat to give you a boost of energy in the second half.

Your throat bobs as you look up at this girl.

"Hey," You say back, completely defeated.

She looks at you, eyes roving over your body before she lets out a long suffering sigh.

"If the defenders are playing shit," She says," Then you need to tell them. I suggest yelling, get it through their thick heads that if they can't stop the ball from getting to you then the goal conceded is their fault."

"You want me to yell?"

"Look," She says," I get you're all quiet and stuff but out on the pitch you're in charge of them. If they're not up to your standards then you better fucking tell them."

"I-"

"Plus it helps get some of your frustration out."

Her words circle in your head even as you walk out for the second half.

France dominates again and it's not long before they're bearing down on goal.

You defence is wide open, allowing way too much space and you have to go to ground to save the shot.

Rage boils under your skin as you stand up, marching over to your defence as they mill around waiting for you to release the ball.

"Tighten up!" You snap," You're giving them too much space!"

"Whoa, wait a minute-"

"No! Just close ranks when they come near! Cut them off then and there and I won't have to make the save because if you keep playing like that sooner or later, they're going to sneak one past me!"

You don't give them time to argue back, rolling the ball out to your midfield.

The game ends nil-nil but you don't have to make any more saves and you don't bother sparing your defence a look as you walk off the pitch, making your way right over to the stands, hoisting yourself up and over.

"I'm sorry," You say, head bowed as you stand in front of your mothers," We didn't score."

"I don't think scoring is exactly up to you," Pernille says, reaching out to cup your cheek and pull your head up," You're responsible for not conceding and you did that. A clean sheet on debut. That's a win in my book."

"But not a proper win," You say.

"Let's focus on what you can control," Magda says," You control the goal and the defence. You didn't let a ball past you. You told your defence they needed to tighten up. You did well."

"Really?"

Pernille laughs. "You're too hard on yourself. Now, go down, get showered, get changed. We're going out with your grandparents tonight and we need to tell them about your amazing debut."

#woso x reader #hardersson x reader #pernille harder x reader #pernille harder #magdalena eriksson x reader #magdalena eriksson #woso community #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso #the big adventures universe

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elysians-adventures · 2 months ago

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༉‧₊˚. 𝐈. Part 1

masterpost

Being a kindergarten teacher, you have your fair share of troubles regarding loud kids. But you didn't realise that on this school trip, a certain someone will make you experience your worst fear in your entire teaching career.

5 kids + 1 manchild = chaos. This wasn't the brother of Yuuji Itadori you were expecting!

“Miss! Nobara stole my toy!”

“No I did not! Shut up!”

The wailing of children made you exasperated, watching Nobara's and Megumi's squabble before the class boarded the coach. The brown haired girl had stolen Megumi's dog toy, one of a pair. Your lips puckered, crossing your arms:

“Nobara, give it back. Remember what we said about taking things without permission?”

The little girl gave a whimper, glancing downwards with a look of guilt, “It's mean…”

“And?” You asked, putting on your best teacher-sounding tone.

“...And if we want something, ask first~!” She repeated in a jingle, obviously something that you had instilled in your students' brains for some time.

Nobara looked to her right, turning to Megumi and stuttering out, “Can I play with it?”

“No!” Megumi snatched the plush back, earning a scowl of disgust from the other child.

“Meanie! Meanniee! Go away!”

You had been a kindergarten teacher for two years now, watching classes grow up and leave, but this was by far the most boisterous of them all. Nobara Kugisaki, Megumi Fushiguro and Yuji Itadori were all the resident troublemakers, though, speaking of Itadori– he didn't show up yet. You look around, trying to spot locks of pink hair within the sea of excitable children.

Last week, quite spontaneously, you had been told that there was a new parent chaperone joining the field trip; Yuji's older half-brother– Choso Kamo. Assuming that you hadn't seen anyone with pigtails with the little rascal alongside them, you assume they must be both running late.

“Megumi, let that little brat play with the toy, both of you screaming is pissing me off,” a gruff voice spoke. You turned back to the arguing duo, noticing a newcomer patting– rather, manhandling Megumi's head. Toji Fushiguro.

“But I don't wanna!”

“Do it, or I'll sell you.”

The black haired child gave a groan, finally nodding to Nobara's request. Internally sighing, you gave a wry smile to Toji, trying to telepathically remind him not to swear around kids. He seemed to get the message, holding his hands up in false defence.

“Whoops. I'll do better, Miss L/N,” he joked in a high pitch, earning an eye roll from you.

You two had a close friendship, meeting each other in university and later named godmother of Megumi by his late wife (the man would never bother with sentimental stuff like that).

“Have you seen Yuji? Or his brother? The coach leaves soon…” you shot the question towards Toji, who had also taken up the role of parent chaperone by Megumi's incessant requests (begging).

“Yuji Itadori…?” He paused, thinking, before his face contorted into a laugh, “Oh! That kid! Nah. The one that plays with Megumi? I'm friends with his older brother, y’know?”

“Oh?” You shot a questioning look towards the seeming off handed comment Toji gave. Choso didn't seem like the type of guy to keep Toji around as a friend, but you were always willing to be proved wrong.

“Yea. Goes to the same MMA club as me, shit guy. Probably running late, dick stuck in some bitch and forgot the time.”

You give Toji a hard elbow at his rather loud tone near the kids. He smiles, shrugging carelessly. Though, it did make you wonder, who exactly was he talking about? Yuji's older brother had always seemed like a well adjusted guy, if you ignored his tendency to act emo. And he was always punctual to stuff, so this situation made you slightly worried. Itadori had no trouble cheering up the entire class, his selfless nature not lost on you. Whoever raised him did an amazing job…

“Should probably load these fuc– kids… onto the coach. Where's Nanami?” Toji looked around, before spotting the blond-haired teacher. He turned on his heel without a goodbye, walking towards him.

Toji was right, it was getting late, the driver was probably irritated at the entire ordeal. You gave a sigh, hoping that the two finally would show up.

You rolled your shoulders back, and raised your chin, standing tall.

Clap! Clap!

The storm of children grew silent at a moment's notice.

“Good! Go to Mr. Nanami and sign yourselves in! Straight line, remember!” You gave them instructions, seeing them clamber towards the two chaperones. The line was not as straight as you'd hoped, but it was fine enough for a group of six year olds.

Now, onto the matter of the late chaperone and child. You grasped at your phone within your pocket, opening your contacts. As policy, or rather as common sense, you saved all the parents’ numbers onto your phone. You scroll until you find ‘Y’, scanning over the names.

… ‘Yuji's Brother’

‘Yuji's Brother’

‘Yuko's Mother’ …

You frown, when were they two? Probably a glitch. You tapped into one of the names, waiting.

Ring ring. Ring ring. Ri–

“What?” The deep voice that responds makes you jump, absolutely not what you were expecting. This absolutely was not Choso, unless he had a vocal chord surgery or something. In the background, there were sounds of humming cars. Traffic jam, perhaps? You try to maintain a level of professionalism.

“Hi, I'm calling regarding the school trip. I'm wondering–” you were cut off by a youthful voice.

“Gaah– Sukuna! Hurry up! We're late! I'm sorry Miss L/N! Hurry up, hurry up!” Yuji's frantic tone makes you smile, the boy obviously panicked at the prospect of missing the thing he had been looking forward to for months.

“Shut up! Fuckin’ bastard… yea, we're almost here.” The voice, which you took as ‘Sukuna’, mumbled in an annoyed tone. So this was Toji's MMA friend? You could tell why they were friends now.

Thumping sounds were heard in the background, but you ignored them, continuing: “Well, I'm sure Yuji wouldn't like to miss the trip. The coach is leaving in a few minutes, but if you need more time I can talk to the driver for you. How far are you?”

“Stop kicking my seat, you little shit! We're five minutes away, just wait,” the last part was hissed in a commanding tone, a scowl unknowingly painting your face. You already didn't like him, and you were never good at hiding your emotions.

“Well, alright, I'll call you back soon if you aren't here.” Not wanting to hear the rest of the sibling spat between them, you promptly hung up. The blatant swearing, insults, and punctuality. He was going to be worse than Toji.

Instantly after the call, you tap onto your work email, trying to see whether there had been some mixup with the guardians. It wasn't a huge deal, Yuuji was going to get here regardless and the job was easy enough for a teenager if anything. You scroll down to the form submitted by Choso Kamo– only to find that he had pulled out at the last minute, being replaced by a ‘Sukuna R. Itadori’.

Groaning, you turned back to the group, who had been dwindling to around ten kids in line.

“Nanami!” You called, “Can you tell the coach driver to wait a little longer?”

The pitiful look on your face managed to soften Nanami's stern gaze– though not fully. With tight lips, he gave a slight nod. Something told you that the five minutes were not so true.

Fifteen minutes passed before a car pulled near the group. A black Toyota, its slick form resembling a teardrop. You watched as the backdoor flew open, Yuji Itadori beelining straight for you. Backpackless, and without a care in the world, he gripped onto the fabric on your legs as he neared.

“Miss L/N!” He hugged your leg, “I'm sorry! Can I get on the bus–”

“Oi, brat!”

Both of your attentions were pulled back towards the car, the happy reunion making you momentarily forget that there was supposed to be another different person here after all.

A tall man emerges from the vehicle, a tiny Spiderman backpack slung over broad shoulders. Jesus, how tall was he? About six foot, you surmised. He donned a tight black vest, with matching grey zip up hoodie and sweatpants pulled over himself– obviously in a rush, considering the creasing. The man combs through pink hair with his fingers, giving you a glower.

He neared the pair of you, chucking the bag towards the smaller child. Yuji caught it, blowing a raspberry towards him… this was his brother, was it not? In reality, you had completely forgotten that Yuuji had an older brother directly related to him. You've gotten so used to Choso picking him up after school, you've just defaulted to him.

“Miss! ‘Kuna made me late! Blame it on him!”

“Now, now, it's alright. The coach hasn't left yet, but catch up with it now! Who knows, it might just drive off without you now…” You feigned a face of worry as you crouched to meet his height, looking towards Nanami. The smaller of the pink haired duo was alarmed, grasping his backpack and sprinting towards the teacher.

He was too fast for a six year old, you knew that for sure.

Standing to your full height, you face Sukuna, trying to ignore how you comically dwarfed him. Are you short because he was tall, or was he tall because you were short? Such philosophical questions were pushed to the back of your mind as you nodded for him to follow you to the coach. You earn a grunt in response, the muscle bound man starting to walk ahead of you.

‘Alright, you don't like to follow, noted…’ You think.

Trying to make small talk on the thirty second journey, you decide to bring up Toji as a common interest: “I heard you go to the same fighting club as Toji. What was it, boxing?” You purse your lips, thinking. You messed up on purpose to see if that would strain any more conversation out of him.

“MMA,” he answered bluntly. A pause, nothing else came out of his mouth.

‘Alright, the silent type, noted…’ You think.

The both of you arrive at the coach, the driver giving you the most piercing glare you might have ever experienced in your life. It almost made you shudder. Scanning over the bus, you make sure everyone's seated. You assumed Nanami had already checked the kid's seat belts with his methodical nature, but one more pass through couldn't hurt. Letting Sukuna figure out his own seating situation, you walk and check the seat belts until you make your way towards the back, seeing a specific trio fiddling with Yuji's seatbelt.

“Ah, let me do it sweetie,” you took the seat belts and swiftly buckled it, patting it to signify the task was done.

“Thank you, miss,” they hummed respectively.

“You're welcome.”

You make your way back up the coach, looking now for free seats. Nanami was sitting alongside Junpei, trying to break up a squabble between him and Mahito. Toji was sitting in the only lone seat at the very front of the coach, scrolling on his phone. That left you… your eyes narrow.

Next to Sukuna? You just hoped he wasn't one of those people that smelt when you got near them. You sat.

He wasn't, rather the opposite, a subtle cologne filling your senses. Although, his man spread did invade a bit into your space, so you tried to reclaim it by also man spreading– though not as blatantly.

“This ’s to a museum, right?” He questioned, staring at his phone. Glancing at it, you see that he has a privacy screen. Considering the comment Toji had thrown out previously, maybe you didn't want to see what was on his screen.

“Huh? Yea, the national museum. They're all so excited,” you smile earnestly, “especially Yuji. He hasn't stopped talking about it since he found out.”

“Hm, ‘s that so,” he slurred out in response.

‘Alright, the coach ride will be in silence then, noted…’ Your eye twitched. Could this guy at least act amiably? Discarding Yuji and Sukuna's brotherly relationship– which you expected would be at least rocky, it seemed there was not a bone of politeness in this man towards strangers.

You could feel someone's stare on you, intense. Peeking around you, your sight finally landed on Sukuna's red irises boring through you. Did you fuck up somehow, and now he was going to fillet you using his MMA skills? You quickly break eye contact, internally sighing.

Sinking into the leather-bound seat, you tried to distract yourself, choosing to think of all the mess the kids would make during the hour trip. How many would throw up?

Answer: one.

Mahito must have fed Junpei something earlier, because the projectile vomit that came out of the poor kid was not natural in any sense of the word. You almost feared he'd straight up die. Soon calling his mother to pick him up, Yuji and Megumi said bye to their dear friend as he disbanded the bus.

Nanami's pristine suit got, needless to say, utterly demolished. The teacher scrambled off the coach when they arrived, in search of an actual toilet in place of the coach's small dingy one to clean up at. If anything, though, it would be more beneficial to buy a new shirt.

“Take care of them!” He bellowed as he rushed into a nearby bakery, trying not to pay mind to the dirtied water dripping down his shirt.

“Okay!”

Now, to get them off. A task easier said than done.

Thankfully, most of them were capable enough to pry their seatbelts off of themselves, though one or two needed some help.

“It's okay, sweetie, I'll do it.”

Yuji gave you a beam, “Thank y–”

“You can take your own seatbelt off, brat. Don't waste my time,” Sukuna's voice came from behind you, making you jump. Glancing at him, you could tell he was towering over the pair of you– arms crossed.

“It's fine, Sukuna. Yuji's just tired from all that sitting, no?” You coo towards the boy, who nods vigorously.

“Yea! I‘m tired!” Itadori fakes a yawn, and you pinch his cheek: “Let's not go overboard, now. Off you pop!”

Yuji grabs Nobara and Megumi's hands, and rushes off the coach, barging past Sukuna. The action earns a giggle from you, not lost to Sukuna's death stare.

“Let's get off before they all run away from Toji,” you hummed, trying to mutually make your way past Sukuna. He didn't let you pass, stocky frame blocking the way.

You stand for a second, waiting for him to move, before you speak up, “Umm… excuse me.” Trying to slip past between the seats and him, he finally let you go with another hum, this time sounding a bit more pleased. You frown, what was that about?

Coming out of the coach, the children stand timidly at the side of it, Toji watching over them with a bored gaze.

“Y'know, Y/N, I regret this already. This shit is so boring,” he mutters under his breath as you approach. He turns to the other ‘parent’ chaperone, smirking, “I wish you were there last Saturday, y'know…”

Tuning out of the conversation, turning to the kids. Their chatter filled the air, so you rolled your shoulders back ready to clap–

“Oi, shut up!” Sukuna clicked his fingers alongside the bellow, and it all fell silent without a moment's notice.

What… What was this power? It took you months of training just for them to hear your claps and calls for order, but this outsider manages to silence your class at the click of a finger? You stood in awe.

“Fall in line! Anyone out of it will get chucked in a dinosaur's maw, got it?”

As if choreographed, the children lined up perfectly. Not one shoe or hair out of place. You weren't sure if they knew what ‘maw’ meant, but you felt as if the message got through without problem.

He nodded towards the line, passing you full responsibility now. Perhaps, you had underestimated him. You nod back in thanks, a small smile threatening to appear on your lips. Sukuna turns back without a welcome on his lips, looking unimpressed.

“Alright, sweeties! I know you are all excited, but we have to enter the museum quietly, all right? After we all sign in, we'll wait for Nanami and split into groups. C'mon,” you go in front of the queue of children leading them in.

They follow you in, followed behind by Sukuna and Toji still talking– which you humorously think they're a little too like ducklings following their mother. But that metaphor quickly fizzled out when you realised in this situation, you would be the mother. You could never imagine raising them…

The museum had tall roofs, and its pillars resembled an ornate grecian style. Arches weaved above the roof, supporting the building, the interior remaining the modest brown of the brick.

The class looked up in childish awe, eyes shining at the gigantic structure, gazing up at the pterodactyl replicas hanging as if in flight. You manage to quickly check in with the receptionist, and were told that two extra tour guides were on their way.

Nanami soon came back with a new shirt, the plastic wire of the price tag still hanging from the collar. His face was still turned in the iconic stern look, a glint of disgust still evident from the twitch of his lip.

“Groups of five, quickly,” he stated with mechanical efficiency, trying to split the class equally. Without turning, he addressed the adults, “I'll be taking a tour guide with me. Toji, take one too. Sukuna and Y/N will stay together. Take Yuji with you, or he'll run off.”

You didn't even have time to argue back at the pairing, you opened your mouth and suddenly there was a group of toddlers grasping at your feet as if you were some sort of deity. You didn't even have to corral the kids, Nobara and Megumi staring up at you expectantly.

“Let's go, miss!”

“I want to see some Egyptian stuff!”

“Bleh! Boring… Dinosaurs!”

“Mummies! Mummies!”

“ ‘Kuna! Mr. Kento said: you AND miss!”

Yuji was busy trying to pull Sukuna closer towards your shared group. He was quickly pushed off, Sukuna finally rolling his eyes and neared you keeping a few paces behind, his expression a mixture of boredom and (shared) irritation. You didn’t seriously have to spend the next two or more hours with this self-absorbed prick, did you?

“Okay, okay! We're going!" you finally managed to say, smiling despite the chaos unfolding around you.

As the groups started moving, you noticed Nanami leading his group with his usual stoic demeanour, already taking over the guide's job and explaining the historical significance of the museum's layout. You almost felt bad at the despondent look at the tour guide’s face, pouting miserably as they followed Nanami around.

Toji, on the other hand, seemed to have his hands full with a particularly energetic child who was attempting to scale his back onto his shoulders. You worried they were going to fall, but that wasn't an issue when he took hold of the kid by their collar accompanied with stern talking to.

The museum had massive, great pillars at every corner with vast displays. There were sections which you methodically scoured through, first the Chinese artefacts, then the Egyptian– old kingdom and new kingdom split into two different rooms.

You had spent a bit too long reading about a mummy pair, brothers from what the hieroglyphs were supposedly saying, too invested in your own world to realise it had gone scarily quiet. Too quiet for a group of children, nevertheless if that group contained Yuuji, Megumi and Nobara.

Furrowing your eyebrows, you rip your attention away slowly from the mud-stained coffins, as if you were trying to avoid seeing the scene in front of you.

There were two reasons for this silence: someone had gotten hurt, or they all ran off. You especially hoped it wasn't the latter as Sukuna was meant to be watching them, and the register was meant to be done in time for lunch soon…

Your eyes come upon the second reason. Your small group of 5 disappeared into thin air. At least Sukuna seemed to be gone too, hoping that he had simply led them off into the new kingdom room. With a quickened step, you make your way across the hallway opposite.

Nothing.

What? Did they really leave you behind? Your lower lip protrudes as you're in thought, pacing aimlessly further down a corridor. Perhaps they have gone further down, one of them wanted to see dinosaurs, or something along those lines.

“You seen them?” A nonchalant tone asks, followed by a slurp.

“Have I… seen them?” You spit back incredulously, your optimistic daydream of the pink haired bastard looking after the group quickly shattered like glass. He was standing next to a display of old Japanese artefacts further down, avoiding eye contact. Somehow, he found the time to pick up a drink at the museum cafe. Thankfully, you hadn't picked up on this fact, or else you're sure you would have strangled him.

“I thought you were looking after them,” Sukuna states, unbothered by the lazy look in his eyes. He gestures towards the exhibit he must’ve been distracted by, a large wooden sculpture of a god, “Kōmokuten, Heian era of Japan. Interesting?” The last part of the sentence was worded as a rhetorical question, followed by a nod by the man as if agreeing with his own statement.

He continues: “Not interested? Anyway, where the hell are they? I thought you were looking after the–”

“No, you were looking after them,” your angered whisper-yells were countered by a scoff by the pink haired man, sipping the beverage in his hand. You almost wanted to knock it clean out and pour it all over that stupid dyed hair. Actually… was it dyed?

Now that you think about it, Yuuji always seemed to have pink hair too, though the underside was brown. Did they have special brotherly hair dying sessions?

“They’re kids, how fuckin’ far could they have ran?”

Tuning back into the conversation, it was your turn to scoff, “They're fucking kids! They could be on fucking Mars by now for all we know. Oh god, okay… let's follow the hallway down.”

Attempting (but failing) to mask your worry, you bit your lip as you rushed past him and all the– truthfully interesting– exhibits. Another time, maybe. There was a loud slurp, before you heard thudding footsteps behind you.

“Do you even know where you're going?” His gruff voice asks, you can feel his head peeking out from behind to look at the side of your face.

“... Down there.”

“Stop. Fucking stop for a second, jesus. Let's look at a map of this place before you get us lost too.”

Sukuna grabs your shoulders, attempting to pull you back to the hallway you were previously. You wanted to spit some snarky comment about how you weren't going to be in this situation if it wasn't for him, but your tongue caught itself.

You give in, sighing, and trace your steps back to a large display board. Right now, you were in the Japanese section, so if you followed it down– it split into two directions. Not so good.

“They wanted to go see the dinosaurs,” you mutter to yourself in revelation, bending over to see the section on the board lower down.

A loud sip, “Then let's go.”

You turn your head, ready to agree, until you see him nonchalantly texting on his phone. Your eye twitches.

“Put that away,” you hiss, uncaring to try to keep an air of friendliness, “You lost them and you can't even be fucking bothered to look. We have to get them back in at least–” you look at your phone, “-- at least the next 20 minutes. Can you please just help and not act condescending?”

He switches his attention to you, his eyes glaring at you. Unmoving in his gaze, he raises an eyebrow.

“Fine.”

“Thanks,” you spit out, full venom, obviously not thankful. Standing to your full height, you turn on your heel without caring whether the man was following you or not. But the thudding footsteps behind you signified as much.

You passed back by the Japanese displays, taking a cursory glance over them. Really, the statue Sukuna had tried showing you didn't pique that much of your interest. It looked rather, strange if anything. The man must have unique tastes.

As you rush past them, you spot a certain black haired boy staring at a scroll– also from the Heian period.

“Megumi!” You call out, relieved at having found at least one of the children. Sukuna grabs the boy's hand before you had the chance to scold him, and does your job for you:

“Who told you to run off, you brat?” He spits, crumpling the cup underneath his fingers. Megumi, unperturbed by the harsh words (perhaps training he had gotten from having Toji as a father), stared nonchalantly at the taller man.

“They went to go look at the T-Rex, but I said I wanted to see this,” Megumi points towards the scroll, and you look to follow. Sukuna huffs, unsatisfied by the answer but knowing he isn't going to get much more tightens his grip around Megumi's hand.

“One down, four to go,” he glances at you with a humorous tone, but without a smile to match.

You think it cute that Sukuna holds the little boy's hand in such a way, making sure he can't run off. He must be used to Yuuji's antics. Talking of Yuuji, Sukuna doesn't seem to be very nervous at all at the prospect of losing him.

“He's fine,” he states, sharp and short. The twitch in his brow isn't lost on you, however. Megumi yawns, trying to slip out of Sukuna's graso and back into your own– but the man pulls harshly, hissing.

“Don't run again, jesus. These kids…”

With a smirk, you walk ahead of them, “They're probably running from you.”

–

Unfortunately, during your walk– halfway to the ‘dinosaurs’-- the three of you weren't able to spot any other lone children. Or rather fortunately, which indicated that they were still together.

Sukuna had now resorted to letting Megumi piggyback him. The little boy rested his head against salmon-pink locks, eyes closed as if in dream.

“Hey, why haven't you just called the museum staff?” The pink haired man asks, staring at you.

You blink, frowning. You can feel your cheeks burning up, the sensation uncomfortable, “It's embarrassing…”

Your words were barely heard, so Sukuna furrows his brows: “Huh?”

“It's embarrassing,” you repeat, not daring to look behind you.

There was a pregnant pause.

“Who the fuck cares about embarrassing?” He scoffs.

“I do. It's my first proper trip and I've lost them. Plus, I know where they are! What's the big deal!”

Honestly, you don't believe your words. You knew kids, and you knew how small their

attention span was. They could have already switched sections by now, or even wandered out. That sent a chill down your spine.

But for now, you were willing to hazard being irresponsible for the sake of your dignity. Not very good, is it?

“At least it's like a… two minute walk,” you reasoned to yourself. Your steps hurried. In truth, if you didn't find them right now, you were willing to go straight for the intercom. Stupid you–

“Miss!” A higher pitched voice wailed out.

> part 2 (wip)

#ryomen sukuna #jjk ryomen #jjk #jjk x reader #sukuna ryoumen x reader #sukuna x reader #sukuna #modern au

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weathertheraine · 1 year ago

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Pirate AU!! Thank you @stringofturtles for watching OFMD S1 with me and re-igniting my Pirate Emotions so I had the motivation to finish this. The first sketches have been sitting in my files for months so please forgive the fact that they look different skdfjh.

More fleshed out AU details under the cut !! :D

- The kids are a little older than canon - the third years in their early 20s - but the story still starts with the second and third years as an established crew who then pick up the first years and the coaches.

- Daichi as a Captain is of course very much like he is in canon. He works very hard to take care of his crew and takes on a huge responsibility for providing for them (as well as making sure they don’t die in idiotic ways). Suga is First Mate so it’s his job to make sure DAICHI is okay and not worrying himself to death. He also has a good handle on morale/the emotional state of the crew.

- Asahi is the first line of offence when dealing with other ships. He doesn’t like actually hurting people, but he’s good at breaking ranks and barrelling through defences to get hold of whatever Karasuno needs. He was ‘off the team’ and out of commission for a little while after he lost his hand (not seeing combat while he was in recovery, and needing to build up his courage again). Noya played a huge part in helping him back onto his feet, and has been kind of protective ever since.

- Noya’s job is to make sure the ship isn’t boarded, so he very rarely leaves it.

- Ennoshita and Kiyoko work together as navigators and managing the little money the crew has. Ennoshita is the only crew member in the beginning who can kind-of read (Kiyoko can only read a little), and they work a lot with maps and planning out journeys.

- Tanaka is great at intimidating opponents. His eyepatch is totally for show - he thinks it makes him look cooler and scarier. His parrot doesn’t often co-operate with him.

- Narita and Kinoshita take care of maintenance and supplies and making sure there isn’t gunpowder anywhere there shouldn’t be, as well as things like fraying rigging and rotting boards/canons secure and the like. Of course, things like that are everyone’s responsibility, but these two consider is theirs particularly. It’s thankless work but the boat would definitely have burned down by now if not for them.

- Enter the first years!

- Kageyama is a prodigy swordsman with a huge reputation as a lethal pirate, although most people who spread those rumours don’t realise he’s as young as he is. He was marooned by his previous crew for being a controlling Captain (who should never have been captain in the first place, having only his fighting talent as the real reason).

- Hinata recently ran away from home to “become a pirate” without much of an idea what that actually entailed, and ran into Kageyama without knowing his reputation. All he knew was that this guy was incredible fighter, and he demanded that he teach him to fight! He now won’t leave him alone.

- Tsukishima ran away as a very young child in an attempt to find Akiteru, whose sailing ship was attacked and lost at sea. He fell in with pirates along with Yamaguchi (who was picked up after surviving a shipwreck), and the pair ended up sticking together as they bounced from ship to ship, ready to run whenever it seemed like tensions were getting high. They (read: tsukki) are going to need to break this habit, if they’re going to be a real part of this new crew.

- Tsukishima and Yamaguchi can’t sleep if they’re not in the same hammock. Embarrassing. The reason Yamaguchi was so tiny as a little kid is that he didn’t get enough food. Tsukishima still tries to sneak him extra (and gets in trouble with Daichi).

- Tadashi ends up as a sharpshooter, one of the few kids who’s confident using a pistol

- Hinata and Kageyama spar together all the time. It’s GOING to end in a make-out the first time Hinata successfully beats him.

- Neither of them have noticed that Tanaka’s eyepatch switches sides.

- Yachi is picked up when the crew stop in a bar in her town. She’s a better-off girl, about to be talked into an politically advantageous marriage, and desperately wants to get out of her situation. “Running away with pirates” was admittedly pretty drastic, but anything sounds like a good idea when Hinata suggests it so sincerely!!

- Ukai is a washed up older pirate, without a crew. Takeda is a very unlucky literature teacher who just happened to be on a sea voyage. They both ended up taken as hostages by the same (meaner) pirate crew, who were then stolen by the Karasuno kids. Although, it’s kind of unclear at this point whether they’re actually prisoners… They’re being treated very nicely (especially Sensei) and are in danger of getting attached…

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midnightarsenal · 1 year ago

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𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬

Summary: A match with Brighton is interrupted by a pitch invader.

Pairing: Arsenal Women x Arsenal!Reader

Warning: Assault | Avoidance | Anxiety | Some Angst

Word Count: 4.6k

Meadow Park, Borehamwood

///

"Y/L/N!" Katie yells from across the pitch and you waste little time in punting the ball over the heads of half a dozen players to her, leading to certified banger of a goal in the seconds that follow and making the score 2-0 in the 61st minute after Caitlin's screamer near the end of the first half. You sprint over to the Irishwoman and launch yourself onto her back, cheering ecstatically as the pair of you are swarmed by the rest of your team.

.....

You had been with the club for over a year now, one of several promising names signed to the Gunners in the summer of 2022, and while you hadn't yet been with the team long enough to cement your place in it as one of its icons, you hadn't needed a lot of time to make plenty of friends among its roster.

Prior to joining Arsenal, you had been Everton's star girl, having played with the Liverpudlian side for over four years before moving to North London in a change that had caused almost as much upset among the Blues fans as it had excitement in the Gooners. It had been a tough decision, but both you and your manager had known that you needed more room to develop your talent and that such room could only be found at a team that regularly fought at the top of the league.

Besides, it had been a far better choice than the alternative of moving to Liverpool. (You still couldn't believe they had been bold enough to even offer.)

Initially, you'd been worried by the prospect of moving both city and club, leaving behind the team you'd grown so close to and entering a new, unknown environment filled with some pretty impressive (and subsequently intimidating) talents. Generally, you were a very confident person and not someone who tended to doubt yourself, but even then, the idea of playing alongside the likes of Miedema and Williamson with reputations known far and wide was a little daunting for a player with a relatively lowkey profile.

But, despite that you had more than proven yourself in your first full season with the club, serving as a reliable forward and netting yourself a handful of goals in the process, even if you weren't a regular in the starting eleven. (You tried not to take it personally given that it was your first season, though your competitive streak made the task a little difficult at times.)

The girls had accepted you with open arms as one of their own, and any reservations you'd had about switching to Arsenal had all but vanished by the time international break had started and you'd gone off the World Cup down under. The teammates on either side of you today were more than just co-workers, they were your friends, and sometimes they even felt like family.

.....

"Alright, you've all done a very good job this half." Jonas starts approvingly as you and the rest of the girls gather round for a brief strategy talk, with Cloé sitting on the pitch not too far away being looked over by the medics. There (probably) isn't anything wrong with her, but it's a good excuse to get a quick chat with the coach in before the game continues. It's the 75th minute and Brighton has been putting on the pressure, propelled forward by an influx of their benched players and possibly some added desperation after Katie's goal.

"Jen, Kyra, Kat, we cannot get complacent now, we need to reassert control over the midfield and lessen the pressure on our defence. Remember, their number 10 loves to make those late runs, so mark her tightly." Your coach continues, his attention turned to the midfielders as he makes quick work of the review while Cloé gets back up to some applause from the crowd and limps towards you and the others, heading for the nearby bench with the team physio and a pair of medics by her side. Already, Lina is taking her jacket off to sub in just behind you.

The chat concludes and the game continues, having only been paused for around a minute and a half as you share a glance with some of the other girls while you all run back onto the pitch with haste. You aren't normally the type to feel as if the result has been decided before the final whistle blows, but you feel confident that you'll be walking away with a win tonight, content with another strong performance.

If only.

It's the 83rd minute when it happens, 8 minutes after your group chat and 7 until the match's conclusion. You're not doing anything when the first signs of a problem arise in the form of distant gasps and disapproving yells from the crowd, you're just standing there with your hands idly on your hips, walking slowly along the pitch and keeping track of the ball as it's passed around in the midfield, a sizable distance from where you are.

You aren't paying attention to what's behind you.

"Y/L/N!" You hear Katie yell again from some ways away, but this time there's something different in her tone that alerts you, there's an urgency in it that's uncharacteristic, one that makes you think something's wrong, and it doesn't take you long to find out what it is.

"Stupid cow!" Is what you hear slurred from behind you before a searing pain suddenly springs forth from the side of your head, the impact of something hard sending you stumbling to the side before you quickly lose your footing and tumble to the ground, the left half of your face hitting the grass with such momentum that it briefly bounces back up before dropping down again.

Your vision blurs for a second or two as you instinctively reach for the sides of your head to cradle it protectively, your legs lifting up until you're just short of a fetal position. You quickly understand that you've been hit by someone and brace for a second attack, one that fortunately doesn't come as you hear sounds of a scuffle nearby.

Your right temple pulses with hurt and you can't help but scrunch your face up, closing and opening your eyes in a rabid blink to try and adjust your sight and shake off the disorientation that has you locked in its grip. For a few moments you lose track of time, wrapped up in your own world of pain before you see someone kneel down in front of you and feel their hands cup over your cheeks, turning your head up to face them.

It's Beth.

"Jesus Christ, you alright?" She asks intensely, her face shaped by a mix of exasperation and concern as you feel someone else's hands slot under your armpits and sit you up, you feel a minor sense of relief at the fact you don't immediately become nauseous at the movement, and the world starts to filter back to high resolution as your disorientation dissipates.

"Yeah.. yeah, I'm alright." You finally find the strength to speak, frowning as you continue to rub at your right temple and look around, trying to get a grip on your surroundings. Your head still hurt, but not quite as bad now and you're sitting up, surrounded on all sides by a wall of red and white football kits, all belonging to women who's gazes were entirely focused on you and who all looked either worried sick, pissed off or both.

Behind them, you could only just see another gathering of bodies that was leaving the pitch. A sea of high-vis jackets, some emblazoned on their backs with 'Security' and others 'Police'.

"Fucking maniac." You hear one of the girls around you say, "How'd they let that happen?" Someone else asks to no one in particular, "Stupid dickhead, should throw him in the sea." A third voice suggests angrily and the accent leaves little room for candidates who's surname isn't McCabe.

You feel some of the girls pat you on the shoulder or rub your back, and Beth takes one of your hands in her own, hands disappearing from your face so they can help you stand up before the wall of Arsenal red parts to let in the team physio and doctor who quickly disapprove of the idea and sit you back down before you've even had the chance to get your bum off the grass.

A light is flashed in each of your eyes, causing you to wince, and you're bombarded with a series of questions that lead you to assume the pair are checking for a concussion. But- after what feels like forever, with the hairs on your skin standing up as you become increasingly aware of what a cold night it is now that the warmth from your exertion during the game has worn off- the two medical professionals get up from their crouched position and carefully help you stand up too.

The crowd cheers for the development and you let out a breath, shaking your head with a small, cynical smile as you were met with looks of sympathy from your teammates. The side of your head still hurt, but it had diminished to the point that you could probably ignore it, though it was still far from comfortable.

"Had to happen to me, eh?" You say to Beth, who can't help but let out a short breathy laugh.

"Maybe he's an Everton fan." Jen proposes and you laugh with a nod. "Left it a bit long, didn't he?" Steph replies with a feigned confusion.

You walk to the bench with the physio, doctor and Beth, with the rest of the team giving you a few more supportive words and pats on the back before heading back to their places on the pitch. It wasn't as if they were going to cancel the game over one rowdy wanker, after all, besides there was less than ten minutes left.

"Are you okay?" Jonas asks as you approach the Arsenal bench and you nod, being brought in for a quick hug before he adds, "That was totally unacceptable. We'll need to address it with the club. Get more security." He sounds angry, and not just with your assailant. You hadn't really had the time to process what had happened given how fast it had all been, but as you sit down at the team bench, receiving another warm reception from the girls there, the ones who'd been playing in the first half, you begin to get where he's coming from. How could that be allowed to happen? What if the guy had a weapon? What if-

"My girl." Your thoughts on what could have happened are interrupted by an unmistakable voice, Leah. Putting that Southern pronunciation on the word 'girl' that you loved so much, but sounding just as worried as everyone else who'd spoken to you did. The blonde wastes little time in leaning down to envelop you in a hug from where you sit, and you return it with a smile, letting out a breath you hadn't known you'd been holding in, and it coming out shaky much to your confusion. You felt fine.

"Good thing you weren't on the pitch, otherwise that prick probably wouldn't have left it." You joke with a small smile as the two of you pull apart and Amanda to your left budges up so Leah can sit down next to you, her brows furrowed in that steep arching frown she liked to do. The match in front of you continues as it had before. Alessia sits on your right, trying to be considerate by not unnecessarily intruding but occasionally giving you a side glance with a smile.

"Honestly, if they hadn't gotten to him first. Fucking wanker." Her blue eyes dart to the side, momentarily looking out to the pitch before returning to you. She reaches out an arm and wraps it over your shoulder, pulling you close, you have no objection, and you can't resist the amused huff of air you let out at the thought of what Leah might have done if she had been there and had two properly working legs.

A small comfortable silence settles between you both until the defender asks, "You alright?" and you nod almost on instinct, giving her a smile. "Yeah. Head hurts a little, but I did just get punched." You joke, but Leah doesn't laugh, or even smile, instead penetrating you with those deep blue eyes. "I know that, dummy, they wouldn't sit you on the bench if you were hurt like that. I meant the other kind of alright."

You shrug and for the first time since you'd seen her, your eyes drift off to the pitch and you shift in your seat. Yeah, you were fine. But, the idea that you might not be didn't sit right with you, or rather, the idea that Leah and by extension the rest of the team might not think you are.

"You mean if I'm all... shaken up? Quaking in my boots?" You retort with some dry wit and a slight smirk, putting some faux dramatism on your words as you glance back to Leah for a moment before returning your eyes to the game. You felt fine, but the question seemed to stir something in you, applying a light pressure to your chest that wasn't there before. You didn't like it.

Leah didn't seem amused and you feel her stare boring into the side of your face, inspecting you almost. "Yeah." Is her short reply, as if she isn't looking to entertain your attempts at humour. As if she takes the incident more seriously than you do.

You shrug again and look over to the blonde with an expression that borders between nonchalance and indifference. "Then yeah, I'm all good in that department too. If fucking Jack Grealish can handle a punch then I think I'll be fine." That one seems to have some effect on Leah's stern, concerned demeanour and she gives a small smile, shaking her head slightly as if reprimanding herself for not knowing better to expect any other kind of answer from you.

But she tightens her arm around you just a bit regardless, pulling you in just a little more than you already were, even as she turns away to face the pitch as the game approaches the final whistle, her eyes lingering on you a little longer. "Alright.. but if that changes, you know I'm here, right?" She asks with a sincerity that makes you a little uncomfortable, partly because you'd always been a little awkward around more heartfelt exchanges of emotions, and partly because.. well you couldn't really figure out that other feeling, but it adds to that small pressure on your chest.

"Yeah, I know." You get out with a firmness, more to reassure the defender that you'd be willing to open up in that sense than anything else. You weren't sure if you ever would, even if your feelings did change. But, you were.. confident that they wouldn't. You felt fine, after all.

The final whistle blows not long after.

.....

The hum of fluorescent lights fill Meadow Park's comparatively humble locker room as the team trickles in, sweaty and exhausted from a relatively hard fought win. There's the usual post-match banter, the teasing, the recounting of the odd tackle and the two winning goals. But there's also a.. tension in the air, an undercurrent of concern and empathy directed toward one player in particular and unfortunately you're all too aware of it.

You take your usual spot by your locker, trying to blend in with the post-game routine as seamlessly as you can. You begin to unlace your boots, your fingers working with a rehearsed, mechanical precision. You didn't like it when people fussed over you, and you always tended to think that their attention was better spent or even better deserved elsewhere. You didn't really like being the centre of attention either, positive or negative. So, sitting here, and knowing that every now and then a different set of eyes would glance over at you, or that every second conversation featured you in some capacity, it wasn't a fun feeling, even if all of it derived from the most kind intentions.

You slip your cleats off and lean back against your locker as you sit in your cubby, looking up at the ceiling and releasing your second shaky breath of the night against your will. That pressure on your chest hasn't gone away and it's beginning to annoy you as you close your eyes and try to relax yourself, feeling oddly tense.

Between the chaos of the initial aftermath, your conversation with Leah and some of the banter you'd tried to get yourself involved with during the short walk to the locker room after their celebration, you hadn't really had the time (or the desire) to really think back to the incident or process it. It'd happened what? Thirty minutes ago? Yet, it already felt significantly longer.

Your hand reaches up absentmindedly to rub at your right temple as images flash one after the other of the experience. You on the ground, Beth kneeling in front of you and those two words that you hadn't even recalled until now. "Stupid cow." You scratch at your temple for a moment and open your eyes, shaking your head for a second or two as if to ward off the memory.

You let out another breath, and while this one isn't quite shaky, your breathing has gotten a little heavier.

Your hands clasp together and your fingers interlock as you idly rub your thumbs up and down the hand opposite to the one they each belong to. That pressure on your chest makes itself known a bit more and you swallow, your eyes surveying the locker room, not quite knowing what you're searching for but compelled to do it all the same. Why would someone do that? Why would a person just run out onto the pitch and hit a player? Hit you?

"Relax." You tell yourself.

It doesn't do much, and you have to put a hand down onto your knee to stop one of your legs from tapping itself up and down. "What the fuck is wrong with me?" You internally ask yourself. You felt fine. You had felt fine five minutes ago. You had felt fine after being punched in the side of the head. Why are you feeling like this now?

You shift in your cubby and take a deep breath (another shaky one, much to your frustration), trying to regain control of yourself. That fucking weight on your chest is still there.

"Y/N." You hear someone- Katie- say nearby, and you curse to yourself. "Yeah?" You ask with a slightly raised brow, trying to remain lowkey as you look to your left to see the forward standing not too far away next to her own cubby, shoving her boots into a large black duffel bag as she stares at you, most of the other girls are still in their own conversations. Thank God.

"You good?" She asks the question that you've become almost annoyingly familiar with in the past half hour and like before you nod impulsively. Though unlike then you're no longer quite so confident in the honesty of that natural response. "Yeah, all good. Why? Am I getting a bruise?" You say in an attempt to be light hearted, giving the brunette a small smile, but she only frowns back, causing you to swallow.

"Nah, just seemed like you were.. thinking 'bout something."

You break your stare and go back to what you're supposed to be doing, getting changed, leaving Katie unsatisfied as you find your own duffel bag next to you and begin putting your cleats into it. You begin to feel a slight burning at the bottom of your throat but try to ignore it, feeling the corners of your lips reactively curl downward even as you busy yourself with getting changed.

"Fucking idiot." You angrily say to yourself on the inside. "Stop being such a baby." You take off your Arsenal shirt and shove it into the bag with an unusual amount of force. That pressure on your chest grows heavier and your breathes with it. You aren't sure why you feel this way and you hate it. You've never felt like this before and you hate it. Why is this happening? You were fine before.

"Y/N." Your name is called again, only this time it's Leah, and she's standing right behind you, causing you to jump just slightly. Your heart beating a little quicker as you'd been facing your locker, back turned to the rest of the team. Katie must have gotten her.

You take your third shaky breath of the evening before responding with a falsely inquisitive, "Yeah?" as if you hadn't a clue what she'd want to talk to you about. You continue to face your locker, opening it up to take out your casualwear to give yourself a valid reason not to turn around.

"You wanna come with me? Need to talk." She says with a nonchalance that is deceptive. Ordinarily, if Leah needed to talk with someone, she wouldn't hesitate in using her regular old sternness to get the importance across. But, right now? Her tone was light and casual and you weren't an idiot. You know that she was treating this like some kind of sensitive situation when it wasn't. You'd gotten punched by some dickhead and that was it, end of story. It probably happened to a thousand people every day in Britain and you were no different.

"Yeah.. just lemme get dressed first." You reply, sliding on your trousers and feigning your own coolness and composure, though not nearly to the same effectiveness as Leah. Your breathing's still heavy and with each passing moment you begin to feel a growing sense of claustrophobia when you'd never suffered from that in the past. You want air. Maybe you need it. But, you can't let that show.

"Mind turning round, Y/N? It's bad manners not to look at someone when they're talking to you."

You won't let it show.

"Look, Leah. If this is about that dickhead again, I told you I'm all good." You retort dismissively, wanting to put the questioning to bed.

That pressure grows heavier.

"Well, I don't think you are."

Your heart beats faster.

"Oh, and what? You're in my head now are you?" Your frustration peaks through the façade.

Why are they still asking you about it?

"No. I just know when my friends aren't okay." Leah's concerned tone fades and she takes on a sterner one, a tough love one.

Why aren't you fine?

"Well you might want to get your radar checked because I'm fucking fine, Leah." Your brows furrow and you almost grit your teeth as that burning sensation creeps further up your throat. You shouldn't have sworn.

The rest of the locker room is becoming quieter.

"Then why won't you look at me?"

Everyone's looking at you.

"Because you're fucking bothering me!" You yell angrily. And if there had been any conversations left in the room, they cease instantly, cloaking the team in a deafening silence.

You swallow and it almost hurts your throat. You blink and your eyes have a wetness in them that wasn't there ten seconds ago. Your chest lifts and falls dramatically and your hands have a light tremor in them.

But, you were fine ten minutes ago.

You feel a pair of hands take you gently by your waist and you presume them to be Leah's, having that presumption confirmed quickly as the defender turns you around slowly to face her. You don't resist, but you feel almost ashamed as you're rotated to face the rest her and the rest of the girls. You can't even look any of them in the eye, with your eyes dropping to the ground and becoming fixated on your feet because it's easier than looking at anything else.

"You're okay, my girl. You're safe." Leah says, her sternness morphing seamlessly into an almost painfully sincere softness and care as you're pulled in slowly for another hug, though your arms hang almost limply by your sides. You don't know what to do, or what to say, but you feel a stinging in your eyes and a pain in your throat that's becoming more pronounced by the second.

You bury your head into Leah's shoulder because you know you're about to cry, and you feel a surge of intense shame at the realization. Your arms reach up and finally wrap themselves around Leah. You know the rest of the girls are watching you, and it's embarrassing, but you don't know what else to do. You don't feel safe.

"I don't know what the fuck's wrong with me." You finally let out into the blonde's shoulder, feeling the first tears roll down your cheeks. "I was okay and then.. this shit just came out of nowhere. I'm sorry."

Leah pulls away from you, but only slightly, one of her hands lifting your chin to level with her as she looks you dead in the eye, while her other hand reaches up to stroke your cheek. "You have nothing to be sorry about, understand? Nothing. No one thinks any less of you for this, Y/N."

You aren't entirely sure if that's true or not, but Leah, being the natural leader that she is, had a way of making people believe things or feel them even if they otherwise wouldn't. And you're not immune to that effect, nodding somewhat hesitantly in agreement, but nodding regardless as you feel that pressure on your chest lighten ever so slightly.

"The pitch should be a safe place for us and that dickhead tried to take it away." You hear Beth speak up, both to you but also to the rest of the room, with nods and murmurs of concurrence following throughout. Concern and heartbreak can easily turn to anger and a need for justice, and even in your frustratingly vulnerable state, you can see that change begin to take place in the confines of the locker room as the scene between you and Leah made it perfectly clear to everyone that you had been effected by that attack on more than just a physical level.

"Everyone's here for you, alright? Nothing like that is ever gonna happen again. Not to you, or anyone else in this game." Leah says, that steeply arched frown returning to her expression as a hint of determination reaches through her words.

She wipes away some of the tears that hadn't quite made their way down your cheeks and pulls you back into the hug, running her hand in circles along your back. "We're gonna make sure he regrets ever coming to this game." The Vice-Captain whispers into your ear with an intensity that almost makes you shiver, and in that moment, you find a piece of your confidence back.

You were confident that the girls had your back. You were confident that Leah would do whatever it took to get justice, and you were confident that one day that wanker would indeed regret ever even coming near you. But, most importantly, you were confident that you wouldn't allow him damage you, that you wouldn't allow him to have anymore significance in your life than a fucking footnote. Regardless of whatever happened next, revenge or not, justice or not. You were simply more valuable than that, and the girls would always help to remind you of that, even if sometimes it was hard to see.

Sometimes, your team felt like more than just a team, and tonight was one of those times.

///

End Notes: Hey, everyone! So this has been my first ever woso fic. I'm still trying to get to grips with pacing and getting some proper good angst, but I hope this is an enjoyable read and a good start!

#woso #woso x reader #woso imagine #arsenal women #awfc #reader insert #arsenal wfc #arsenal wfc x reader #woso community #leah is going to fuck shit up

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overtrred28 · 1 year ago

Text

Stargirl | matildas x original character fic [part two]

Words; 1.5k

Pairings; matildas team x astrid taylor (OC)

Warnings; none (i don't think)

A/N; second part of this series. the only games i'm fully going off of right now are the tillies games and not for Sydney FC, sort of making them up myself. again please give it some love and i welcome any good feedback. enjoy x

masterlist

Joining Sydney FC was one of the best things Astrid could have done. She was thriving. She knew joining in the middle of the season was going to be tough, especially because all the girls already knew each other, and it was at first but having Cortnee there really helped, and the other girls ensuring a smooth transition for her too.

Astrid and her parents did argue for a while when she signed because they weren’t so keen on letting their only child live in Sydney alone at 17, but that was the only option with them unable to move from their jobs. Astrid was a little scared at first when they finally agreed she was more than mature enough to do it, but Cortnee was close by and they had developed a sister-like relationship in Matildas camps and now at the club. And it wasn’t long until she was going to be 18 anyway so it was just an early start to adulthood and Astrid loved it.

It wasn’t long until she was playing her first Women’s A-league game, subbing on in the end of second half as a right forward. During training and practice matches Astrid was known to always score a goal, specifically towards the end. That’s why the coach brought her on when they were still 0-0 and 20 minutes from full time. She had been warming up since the second half started, ready to run on and help the team out.

Almost 15 minutes passed and their side finally gained more possession of the ball, Cortnee ran with it on the right side, opposing defence closing in on her. She shot the ball straight up to Astrid who was in a lot of free space just further up on the outside of the box. The ball connected with her feet, with players coming closer she went for it, shooting strongly with her left foot, successfully passing by the goalie and sinking it in the back of the net. The crowd roared, Astrid ran directly to Cortnee who was already running to the younger girl. Astrid jumped onto Cortnee, a wide smile plastered on her face as the rest of the team ran and jumped onto the pair. Her first A-league game and goal and she had brought the team ahead to 1-0 with minutes to spare.

The game has ended here and the score is 1-0 to Sydney FC with the only goal from number 19 Astrid Taylor. First appearance with this club at 17 years old, after joining the CommBank Matildas a few short months ago. I’ll say it now, I think she’s one to watch everyone, she’s got a strong strike and a great passion for the sport.

After that game, Astrid was gaining more and more minutes with the club, not in the starting 11 just yet, but subbing on towards the end and gaining the position of a ‘super-sub’, never failing to give the team a leg up by scoring at least one goal and a few assists per game right at the end.

Her parents tried to come to as many games as they could, it being easier with her in the same state and especially when they played against Central Coast United. But when they couldn’t see them in person, they got the extended family together to watch at home. They were so proud of her, finally getting some acknowledgement for all the hard work she had put in from a young age.

The new year started and the Matildas were off to compete in the AFC Women’s Asian Cup, Astrid and Cortnee travelling over together after their recent club match.

When they arrived Astrid couldn’t have been happier to see the rest of the team after almost 2 months, immediately jumping on Kyra and Charli from behind when she saw them walking towards the tunnel.

“ASTRID!” Charli squealed once the attacker had let go and they both turned around and brought her into a tight hug. “Oh I missed you.” Charli smiled before letting go, allowing Kyra and Astrid to hug finally.

“I missed you guys so much. It’s been way too long.” Astrid spoke over Kyra’s shoulder.

“Good to have the group back together.” Kyra commented as the pair let go, the three of them now walking down the tunnel together, arms wrapped around each other.

“You know, I think we could beat Cait, Lani and Macca for the best trio on the squad.” Astrid spoke up as they spotted the three players chatting amongst themselves, her comment catching their attention.

“Excuse me?” “What?” “WOW.”

The three of them spoke after one another, Kyra and Charli trying not to laugh beside the youngest player who was about to speak but Mackenzie got the chance first, a small smirk on her face.

“Now listen here, child-” She began but was interrupted by Tony calling the group over to the pitch for today's training session.

“Catch ya later.” Astrid smiled before skipping off with Kyra and Charli, arms linked and laughing. Caitlin, Alanna and Mackenzie stood for a second before laughing and following close behind with a shake to the head.

Throughout this first training session plenty of laughs and jokes were shared within the team, most coming from their youngest player and quite a few being harmlessly thrown at said player. Astrid was building a dynamic with the squad and it was working well for everyone.

Astrid had been working really hard over the past few days, hoping to maybe make her debut in this camp alongside Cortnee who had yet to make hers too. The pair had been talking up this camp excitingly since it was announced, both having spent a while on the squad but yet to play.

And that day came for Cortnee. It was their second match in the competition against the Philippines this time and the Matildas were struggling a bit more than their last match a few days ago when they won 18-0 against Indonesia. They reached half time and no goals were made. The starting line up came back after halftime more pumped up than ever.

6 minutes into half time and Sam had secured them a goal with an assist from Steph; then a Phillipines player made an own goal and gave them another one. Another goal in the net by Emily Van Egmond and they felt even more hopeful about securing the win. At the 71 minute the substitutions for Aus began happening. When Cortnee, Courtney and Holly got called up, Astrid gave them all a clap and a pat on the back, hugging Cortnee a bit more and wishing her luck for her international debut.

Astrid definitely had the loudest cheer when Cortnee ran on, subbing for Kyah. The final goal by Mary at 87 minutes and then the game was over. A 4-0 victory and a Matildas debut for Cortnee, it was a good game. The Matildas had another game in the group stage, making it to the quarter-finals with a 2-1 win, but again no debut for Astrid.

The quarter-finals match against South Korea was a tough one, the first goal of the match being made by South Korea in the 87th minute and ending the Matildas journey in the competition with a 0-1 loss. The team were devastated of course, Astrid slightly upset at not making her debut this camp again, but she had only been on the squad a few months so she knew her time would come.

When Cortnee and Astrid returned to Sydney FC they both trained really hard, especially Astrid. She knew she had something to prove with both her club and national team and the only way to get there was to keep going. In their second match since returning from camp she made the starting line up and Cortnee could not have been more proud, nor could her parents who had been able to come to the game.

Astrid had played more than 70 minutes and scored the team 2 goals and one assist before she was subbed off, more than happy with her results and to take a rest from her first long game since joining. At the end of the game, which they had won 5-1, Cortnee and Astrid made their way over to the barricade where her parents and Cortnee’s parents and brother had been chatting while they waited for the pair.

The two families had joined the next day for lunch to celebrate the win and get to know each other a little better. They could see the sisterly bond Astrid and Cortnee had created and Astrid’s parents were happy to see she was being well taken care of since moving out of home.

The next Matildas camp wasn’t until early April so Astrid had plenty of time to hone in on her skills, gain more minutes with Sydney FC while also adding to her score sheet. By the end of March she had 16 goals, many more assists and even more determination to be on the pitch in the next Matildas camp coming up next week.

to be continued...

#auswnt x reader #matildas #auswnt #matildas x reader #kyra cooney cross #charli grant #football #sam kerr #steph catley #caitlin foord #alanna kennedy #mackenzie arnold #australia

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abubblingcandle · 3 months ago

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Augusnippets Day 24 - Bear Trap - Ted Lasso

cw mention of traps from the Saw franchise

Roy comes home to the aftermath of one of the Greyhound film nights and doesn't do the greatest job at managing his team's fears

A day late but still counts!

Here on AO3 @augusnippets

"What the fuck are you two idiots up to?" Roy growled, pushing Jamie backwards to flop over the arm of the settee. He landed with a little sharp exhale and flopped to lie across Dani's lap.

"We're never sleeping again," Dani proclaimed, holding a screwdriver firmly in white knuckles fists up in front of him.

"Why ... no I don't care. Go to bed," Roy huffed, pointing at the stairs. In the coaching courses they don't teach you that footballers in their twenties are idiots and you'll spend most of your time parenting them. It should at least be a seminar.

"Nope, can't sleep. Researching," Jamie nodded, rolling off Dani only to shoot back up and burrow into his side.

"That can wait until the morning," Roy raised his eyebrows as they both shook their heads in unison.

"What is he comes in the night?" Dani whispers.

"We need to know what to do!" Jamie waved his iPad in Roy's direction that was showing a video about escaping from bear traps.

Roy sighed, massaging his temples. He had just done yoga. He should be calm, refreshed, centred not frustrated, annoyed and tired.

"One of you. Speak. Full sentences. Now!"

Jamie and Dani both looked at each other, nervous flickering eyes.

"We went to movie night at Isaac's with the team and he showed us the most horrible of films. The man who comes and takes people and puts their head's in increasingly awful situations," Dani rambled.

Roy groaned, "why were you watching Saw at a team film night?" They should not be watching films like that without adult supervision.

"Isaac said it was gruesome but in a fun way!" Jamie protested. "And now every time I close my eyes I think the puppet man is coming for us so I ain't closing my eyes for nothing!"

Roy prayed to anyone and anything that was listening for strength to get through this conversation. "The film isn't real. No one is coming to kidnap you and especially no one is coming to kidnap Dani and put your heads in a bear trap," Roy sighed.

"Why is Dani less likely?" Jamie yelped, snatching the defensive screwdriver from Dani's hands.

"Your whole personality," Roy replied blankly, fully prepared to have to dodge a flying screwdriver.

"Now I'm definitely not sleeping," Jamie nodded, turning back to the iPad.

"Fucking hell. Even if, which it won't, it does happen. You'll just get the key or ..."

"Wedge the bars shut and try and break the spring!" Dani supplied helpfully.

"There you go," Roy waved his hands in exasperation. Maybe finally they'd go cuddle in bed like the little idiots usually did.

"But what if there isn't anything to wedge it with?" Jamie supplied unhelpfully.

"Then I'll avenge your deaths. I have plenty of saw trap ideas," Roy replied with a shrug. Time stopped, both Jamie and Dani froze eyes wide open in panic.

"Dani run!" Jamie screamed, diving over the back of the settee with Dani in tow in an uncoordinated mass of limbs. They both screeched as they clattered up the stairs and Roy heard the guest room door slam shut and click locked.

Ok maybe that was a mistake.

Roy: I am going to kill you

Isaac: I'm sorry! Jamie said it would be fine and then it was too late

Roy: You never believe the idiots

Isaac: I know, it’s captain 101

Isaac: But in my defence Jamie said he had been meaning to watch it but then they ran screaming about sharks???

Roy: Think about it pretending to be Jamie

Isaac: ... I don't think I get it

Isaac: Oohhh I got it ... Jaws

#candle writes #jamie tartt #roy kent #dani rojas #cw saw traps mentioned #augusnippets #augusnippets day 24 bear trap

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foreverformula1 · 10 months ago

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F1 hard truth:

Lando Norris’ hardships in basic academics as shown in Grill the Grid isn’t solely the fault for training for F1 and dyslexia but also probably his lack of interest regarding educating himself and/or how he was academically educated growing up.

Because it’s interesting how this argument comes up only when it’s about Norris and sometimes some others too. But all drivers are pretty much average and Verstappen who is known for being the Top 1 at the moment, has a shocking pre F1 victory strike since Karting days (LITERALLY NEVER ARRIVING SECOND!) , countless stories about his hardships with his father coaching him since he was about 3 years old and making F1 all of his life, is often one of the best at these same games.

Fernando Alonso and Sabastian Vettel too.

The truth is that one might not me much intelligent and that’s about it, I completely understand it and struggle with it myself even when I was pushed academically more than my classmates.

But it becomes inexcusable when you don’t know where your country is. Something a 7 year old can do. He, like the others, travel the world as a job, even in their karting days.

We can sympathise with it and him, but don’t make excuses ,come up with theories or put the blame on motorsport. It shows that you are trying to sugarcoat it because you are aware that there’s no defence for it. He’s just … uneducated on basic geography but you don’t want to think about it because you like him. But you don’t have to “unfollow” him because of it. You can still like everything else about him while admitting that it can be better and surely without shaming him!

I believe that formal institutionalised academics are to ensure a certain level is reached. You actually can learn everything alone but of course, can’t or are not allowed to do some things without certification, for everyone’s safety. So it doesn’t make sense that just because someone didn’t complete high school, they are illiterate and completely stupid. As someone who comes from countries with actual illiterate people and is the daughter of one (who is now literate but you can see the struggle when one reached a certain age and the brain has harder times correcting some errors). So please stop theorizing that just because he or other drivers haven’t attended university or maybe have not finished high school, they are uneducated.

Edit: I saw the replies and rechecked my post, you are right and I modified the term. But I want to explain that I did not mean that he is actually stupid. I was just lacking of words and terms to explain what I meant. Now I replaced it with “Uneducated on basic geography” because I know very well he has other theological knowledge that would be hard to me. The “illiterate” part is misunderstood, I meant that as a way to indeed say that I believe the contrary: People can be literate without high school. I added it there because a pet peeve of mine is people actually being convinced that without a minimum of 3 years of university makes you illiterate all of a sudden. It’s a silly mentality to me, and it’s always an ick when a “fan” of him uses this “excuse”. I wanted to be understood but I messed up and I am sorry, but I hope you people understand what I meant in general with the post. I did not make it to shade him or point it out unlike many people in various social medias and comments under these videos;

I made this post to tell people who overanalyze and over-excuse him to just let it be. That’s it. It’s backhanded to put so much energy into this and prove otherwise when it’s plain simple (and other factors could play a role in it too, I know). But some people want to gaslight themselves into thinking that a celebrity of their liking is not as amazing(according to their personal standards and values) as they wish they were. People do this with other celebrities too, pushing the narrative that one is “secretly intentionally chaotic” or the contrary, just an example. People need to accept their celebrities without the guilt for one thing that turns them off. Or at least respect it and not force said narrative. People will gaslight themselves into changing the smallest details about celebrities to “vibe” better with them. Especially females (or maybe I notice it more with them because I am also one?), for example they will make hundreds of posts to show that they appreciate the female star’s natural voice when in reality it’s just simply at its’ deepest. I think it’s tied with the “not like the other girls” preference. Because they act like they have super high pitched voices when they simply are…ladies with an average feminine voice+feminine (sometimes hyper) style and persona. And all feminine things are now being called “cutesy” and childlike. When sometimes they are simply feminine /+and pretty. Because many times they are not even obnoxious at it. You’d think that they are talking about an anime girl voice, but it’s just a lady. They just don’t vibe with her voice and will gaslight themselves that she’s pushing it , ‘but that’s okay to them’.

#f1 #formula one #formula 1 #mine #lando norris #mclaren formula 1

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jarring-behavior · 14 days ago

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i’m very curious on what joe thinks about the coaches’ atp.. like i know he has been zac’s biggest advocate, but i wonder if this season has opened his eyes a bit, even if he’ll never say anything

I think he can see the writing on the wall. The reason the bangles have lost the game that they have is because of their coaching staff and their defense. Their defence has been playing shit all season and the defensive coordinator Zac Taylor are to blame. Also, some of those players. If the bangles don’t make it to the playoffs this year and their chances just look slimmer and slimmer as time goes on I truly believe that this off-season we are going to see a huge shift in the bangles. We will probably end up losing Tee Higgins because they can’t afford to keep him and Jamar. Taylor could possibly be fired, so will the defensive coordinator and we are going to see a lot of guys on our defence dropped. Either traded or just let go. I truly believe that Super Bowl calibre team is a great quarterback, but the team that he has around him or him. The offence has been performing great. our defence has been losing us these games. If the Bengals organization and their head office was smart they need to make those changes for the next season because they have one of the highest paid quarterbacks in the league and they have a really talented team, but their coaching stuff is the reason that we went from AFC North champs to being3-5. Last season was a given seeing it. Joe was injured but even last year they performed much better than they did this year. Zach Taylor wants to keep his job. There has to be a huge shift. I have said that if the Bengals wanted to have a chance of making it to the playoffs they had to go undefeated until they’re bye week. They now have to win every single game until they’re bye week. If they can win these next three games, they’ll be 6-5. If they can win all of their games, even giving up maybe two losses they’ll be 10-7 then I think that they’ll have a chance, but they really have to buckle a lot because they can’t afford to lose any more games

what’s crazy is that the defense had been playing well to start out. and then they just fell apart. no pressure on hurts, receivers wide open, just bad. not having a run game killed them too and yes philly’s front is good, but the offense line needs to be better creating gaps.

anddddd the 4th and 1 play …. that damn 4th and 1 - just a horrible call. i am all for going for it too, but i can not shake throwing behind the sticks.

but no one’s consistently been good enough. that’s just been the theme of the season though unfortunately. i’m honestly done with zac, but i can’t see him getting fired - even if they don’t make the playoffs, i think lou has a better chance.. idk it all sucks 🫠

season isn’t over (even though it really feels like it) and as much as i bitch i’ll still be on my couch cheering my boys on every sunday but damn!!!!

also drafting defensive players HAS to be better. fo wants to let a star safety walk… you better make up for it in the draft, when that doesn’t happen - you get this.

not that bates would solve all this, but u get what i mean

#asks #my brain can not think about the postseason rn #we’ll just see how the season plays out 😵‍💫

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manasastuff-blog · 2 months ago

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inevitably-johnlocked · 1 year ago

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Helloooo!! I was wondering if you had any fanfic recommendations where John and Sherlock have to pretend they’re a couple for a case, and have to share a hotel room or something…?

Hey Nonny!

Ahh, I have JUST enough of my personal recs to do a list, and because I am behind on older lists I'm prepping, we're posting it! Going to add the MFLs I also tag-searched to this list as well, so we have a nice full list to post today!

As always, if anyone has a fic they want to add, please do!

Enjoy!

FAKE RELATIONSHIP / COUPLE FOR A CASE Pt. 7

See also:

For a Case Trope

Fake Relationship / For a Case Part 2

For a Case Pt 3

Fake Relationship / For a Case Pt. 4

Fake Relationship / For a Case Pt. 5

Fake Relationship / For a Case Pt. 6

Married For a Case / Fake Husbands

Johnlock on Holidays for a Case

Ambiguous Relationships

Deck the Halls by itsalwaysyou_jw (T, 31,018 w., 24 Ch. || Advent Fic / Multiple One-Shots, Assorted Tags) – One Johnlock ficlet for every day leading up to Christmas. Who is ready for pining, first kisses, established Johnlock, and everything in between? This collection of stand-alone ficlets will have it all.

The Case of the Vanishing Pants by SwissMiss (E, 44,025 w., 6 Ch. || Five and Ones, Post-TRF, Case Fic, UST, Homophobia, Friends to Lovers, Pining John, Showering Together, Couple for a Case, Sherlock’s Bum, Fantasies, Jealous Sherlock) – Five times John and Sherlock lost their pants in the course of a case.

The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse by SilentAuror (E, 50,635 w., 1 Ch. || Post-S4/S4 Divergence, Case Fic, For a Case / Reverse Fake-Relationship, Conferences, Marriage Equality, Travelling / New York, Pride, Homophobia, Bottomlock, Marriage Proposal, John POV, Sexuality, Love Confessions, Emotional Love Making, Public Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs, Passionate Kissing, Needy/Clingy Sherlock, Virgin Sherlock, Touching / Hand Holding, Bed Sharing, Little Spoon Sherlock, Intense Orgasms) – John and Sherlock go to New York to attend a conference run by the National Defence of Traditional Marriage Coalition in order to investigate the potential bombing of the annual Manhattan Pride parade. As the conference unfolds, John finds himself repulsed by the toxic ideology being presented, which becomes relevent to his own unacknowledged issues and his friendship with Sherlock...

Isosceles by SilentAuror (E, 56,609 w., 7 Ch. || Post-S4, POV John, Original Male Character / Sherlock Dates Another Man, Love Triangle, Jealous John, Virgin Sherlock, Sexual Coaching, Angst, Romance, Domesticity, Unrequited Feelings, Miscommunication, First Kiss/Time, For a Case, Friends With Benefits, Bottomlock, Love Confessions, Spooning) – After solving a case for a major celebrity, Sherlock gets himself asked out. When John asks, he discovers that Sherlock has no intention of going, at least not until John agrees to coach him through whatever he might need to know for his date...

You Might Just as Well Be Blind by ArwaMachine (E, 56,625 w., 12 Ch. || Fake Relationship, For a Case, Bed Sharing, Platonic Cuddling, Jealous Sherlock, Oblivious John, BAMF Hudders, Fluff and Angst, Frottage, Anal Sex, Happy Ending, Case Fic, Flirting, Pining John, POV John, Toplock, Possessive Sherlock, First Kiss/Time, Infidelity) – When a serial killer starts targeting couples, Sherlock and John must do what they have to do in order to get to the bottom of things. Unfortunately, John already has a girlfriend. Surely pretending to be in a relationship with Sherlock won't pose any problems with his relationship, will it?

MARKED FOR LATER / TO READ

What Every Step Is For by Anyawen (G, 2,921 w., 1 Ch. || Five and One, Bedsharing, Injury, Illness, Cold, Lack of Beds, Fake Relationship, Fluff) – Five times bedsharing occurred due to circumstance, and one time it happened by invitation.

A Contest of Wills by JanecShannon (T, 3,155 w., 1 Ch. || Fake Relationship, Turner’s Married Ones, Cuddling and Snuggling, Sexual Humour) – Mrs. Turner's married ones decided to renew thier vows. The problem? John shares a wall with their bedroom and they are being very... enthusiastic... about the reawakening of thier passion. Sherlock decides to give them a taste of thier own medicine.

I meant to say always by OnceSherlock (T, 8,808 w., 1 Ch. || Fake Relationship, Parentlock, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Unresolved Romantic Tension, POV John, Protective Parents) – Rosie made sure that Sherlock was listening before whispering into John’s ear. “I wished for you and Papa to be married.”

Just to Make Sure by addicted2hugh (E, 12,343 w., 1 Ch. || TBB Canon Divergence, Fake Relationship, Friends to Lovers, Pining Idiots, First Kiss/Time, POV John, Secrets, Fluff and Smut) – What if John hadn't given up dreaming so easily after Sherlock announced himself married to his work? What if he had admitted to himself that he's into him? And what if, when Sebastian Wilkes bullied Sherlock in front of him, he had stood up for his friend instead of letting him down? Part 1 of Just to Make Sure

Life's Uneven Kilter by theslovenlyfool (T, 14,877 w., 4 Ch. || Canon Divergence S3, BAMF John, Secretly Married, Camp Gay Sherlock, Dancing, John is a Good Actor, Fake Relationship, Mycroft Plays a Role) – "According to Sherlock, the game began on September 21, 2005 at precisely 10:37:04 am. John complained that, with that logic, the game had actually begun on January 7, 2000, at around 1:30 am. But for Sherlock, games are only fun when others are willing to play. What is a game without an adversary, after all? And what is a proper dash across London without a partner? Now, Sherlock thought as he assessed the doctor with the unforgivable cane, the game is on."

Open your eyes by softlock (NR, 16,032 w., 14 Ch. || Post-TRF / Pre-TSo3, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Mutual Pining, Fluff and Angst, Domestic Fluff, Bed Sharing, Homophobic Language, Anatomy, Medical Procedures, POV John, Slow Burn, Past Rape/Non-Con, Past Torture, Scars, First Kiss, Slow Burn, Happy Ending) – John and Sherlock enter a fake relationship for a case. Will these idiots realize they don't need to act anymore?

Of Dinner and Desires by IneffableHusbands95 & KittieHill (E, 16,663 w., 5 Ch. || Fake Relationship, Established Mystrade, Powerful Mycroft, Bisexual John, Gay Sherlock, Sexual Tension, Drama, Jealous Sherlock, Confused John, Sad Wanking, Masturbation, Banter, Big Brother Mycroft, Possessive Sherlock, Anal Sex, Virgin Sherlock, PWP, Blow Jobs, Shower Sex, Marriage Proposal) – Mycroft bared his teeth and glared before softening. “Surprisingly, I do have better things to do than watch you drink yourself into a self-pitying stupor.” He looked like he might get up and walk out, but he inhaled, fixed his collar and then ordered a gin and tonic from the bar staff who looked at the strange man but scurried off to fix his drink immediately. “We need to discuss your attraction to my brother.”

House of Light by AlgySwinburne (E, 17,149 w., 3 Ch. || Post-S4, Fake Relationship, Holmes Family, POV Sherlock, Friends to Lovers, Past Viclock, Implied / Referenced Homophobia, No Rosie) – For god’s sake,” Sherlock blusters, “John and I are--” “Happy. So very happy,” John cuts in loudly. He gives Sherlock a resounding slap on the back, jerking Sherlock forward. “In fact, we couldn’t be happier, did I already say that? The two of us. Sherlock and I, that is. Because we’re together--in a relationship--as you so astutely noticed before we could break the news. So. Yes. Thank you, Mrs Holmes.”

Couples Retreat by Madam_Fandom (E, 18,717 w., 10 Ch. || Fake Relationship, Undercover Couple, Case Fic, Angst, Kidnapping, Fake Marriage, Cross Dressing) – Couples are turning up missing at a very high class couples retreat; and the only way to get to the bottom of it is for John and Sherlock to go under cover as a couple.

The One Where Sherlock Doesn’t Ruin John’s Holiday by nutmeag83 (T, 18,898 w., 11 Ch. || Pre-TRF / S2 Timeline, Friends to Lovers, Cruise Ships, Vacation / Holidays, Fake Relationship, For Science, Bed Sharing, Cuddling/Snuggling, Mutual Pining, John POV, Minor Case Fic, Cooking, Dancing, Drunk Shenanigans) – John wins a cruise vacation for two and brings Sherlock along. But when it turns out to be a couples cruise, they have to pretend to be a couple themselves (for science). How many pretend kisses will it take before they can’t deny their feelings any longer?

Mistletoe and Misdemeanours by Robottko (T, 20,738 w., 12 Ch. || Coffee Shop AU || Christmas, Fake Relationship, Coffee Shops, Victor Trevor, First Kiss, Holmes Family, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Family Drama, Kidnapping) – When Victor Trevor backs out of the Holmes family Christmas at the last minute, Sherlock panics because he has no way to impress his parents. Thankfully there is a handsome army doctor with nowhere to go in his coffee shop, though it would be more helpful if he were a bit more willing.

I Feel Like I Don't Even Know Him! by MutedSilence (NR, 26,108 w., 25 Ch. || Alternate First Meeting || Fake Relationship, Developing Relationship, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Couple’s Counselling, Paternal Greg, Protective Mycroft, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, For a Case) – John is leaving therapy Sherlock needs to get into the office of a couples counsellor. A frantic Sherlock bumps into John as he's making his way out. John - with nothing better to do - agrees to pretend to be a stranger's boyfriend for the afternoon. Beats going home.

Mountebank by Odamaki (M, 26,514 w., 2 Ch. || Fake Relationship/Dating/Marriage, For A Case, Jealous John, Suits, House Party, Crack, Trapped, UST, Dancing, Idiots in Love, Confessions, Friends to Lovers) – “I am calm,” John snaps, leaning on the door to glare out at the dark streets around them. Sherlock’s not said where they’re going; all he knows is they came off the ring road to the west of London and have vanished somewhere into the depths of Berkshire. All he knows is that he’s been trussed up in a suit that wasn’t hired from anywhere and if brought new would edge up into the triple figure margins. “Be calmer,” Sherlock advises, with a trace of irony. “We’re going to a party.” Part 29 of the The Sherlexicon

Ten Years by toyhto (M, 28,610 w., 5 Ch. || Post S4/TFP, Fake Relationship, UST, Getting Together, Love Confessions, First Kiss/Time, Virgin Sherlock, Parentlock) – A friend tells Rosie Watson that her parents aren't together for real, because they don't kiss. But we do, John says.

L'amour Toujours by stopthat (M, 31,408 w., 26 Ch. || Post-TRF, Fake Relationship for a Case, Sherlock POV, Angst and Feels, Pining, Codependency, John is a Mess, Hurt/Comfort, No Mary, Declarations of Love, Church/Religion, Homophobia/Hate Crimes, Internalized Homophobia, Summer Camp, Awkward Conversations, Misunderstanding, Hand Holding, Slow Burn, Idiots in Love, Friends to Lovers, First Kiss, Therapy/Talking) – There's a wolf amongst the sheep at Wisteria Lutheran Church. Sherlock and John must go undercover—as two men in love—to find out who has been mercilessly executing the church's queer community. As with everything else involving John Watson, it's not nearly as straightforward as Sherlock had hoped it would be. [TRANSLATION: Français]

The Case of the Dancing Cameras by Kr_Nl (E, 54,091+ w., 10/11 Ch. || WiP || Post S4, Dancing Men Adaptation, Case Fic, Angst, Slow Burn, Massage, UST/URT, Homoerotic Literature, Angst, Slow Burn, Fake Relationship, Scars, Humping, Masturbation, Flirting, Almost Kiss, Pining Sherlock) – The case in which John gets to be a massage therapist for a case and Sherlock gets to be massaged against his will (not really). Taking liberties with The Adventure of the Dancing Men of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. Or the case in which John discovers Sherlock turns himself on with homoerotic literature.

The Burning of Carnation Petals by HOverSeas (T, 61,066 w., 19 Ch. || Alternate Universe || Fake Relationship, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, Sherlock / Victor, Unaddressed Trauma, Weddings, Funerals, Flowers, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending) – John is a crematorium technician and he has a lot of relationship issues. Sherlock is a florist and mostly has one relationship issue. They are friends, but will have to pose as boyfriends as a way of avoiding the problem they are trying to solve.

The Assistant by delightful_fear (M, 65,247 w., 15 Ch. || Alternate First Meeting, Fake Relationship, London, New York, Slow Burn, Los Angeles) – Back from Afghanistan, John is not doing well. He takes the job of the live-in assistant to a famous author, Sherlock Holmes, while he writes his latest book. He can handle six months with a moody author while he figures out what the next chapter of his life will be, can't he?

Roommates are for little people by alexxphoenix42 (E, 69,042 w., 14 Ch. || Teen/Unilock || Forced to Share a Bed, Pining, Hurt/Comfort, Fake Relationship, Sherlock is a Prick, Drinking, Inadvertent Drug Use, Family Wedding, Footballer John / Ballet Dancer Sherlock, Frottage, Slow Burn, Mild Dub Con, Cuddling While Sleeping, Slight Homophobia, Posh Boy, Dirty Dancing, Endearments, Nosy FAmily, Bathing Together, Mild Angst, UST/RST, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fluff) – John was looking forward to seeing his friends back at uni, but a new year brings new complications, not the least of which is a dorm room with only one bed, and a stroppy roommate with an utterly spectacular arse. God, John doesn't need the headache.

79 notes · View notes

catiuskaa · 1 year ago

Note

Bestie, am taking revenge :D (not really)

Dropping here to make your fist request too! Let's do the same idea and see what happens :3

Bang Chan flirty rivals/crushes to lovers + dancing

Let's see how it works :]

Bring it on babes >:]

Level up: fencing for dummies.

sum. soulmates don’t exist, but why are all these corny memories suddenly in your head, and why is your rival the main character?

wc. 3.7K

cw. soulmate AU (past life kinda deal but it's a mess) mentions of anxiety, swords, swearing, angst if you blink too fast, technical fencing lingo (explained).

[☆☆⚔️☆☆]

Like a punch in the gut, almots and you couldn’t hold back the need to curse.

Shit. That didn't feel good. What did this even mean?

You sighed, getting angry at yourself. Was it already? Would this be the time that, like your pent-up anxiety sometimes whispered, the day you would finally go down in history as the world’s biggest idiot?

Close, but not just yet. Let’s get back to when the disaster initiated.

You shook your head sideways, shoving unwanted thoughts about the person in front of you to someplace far away in your mind, wanting to fight without emotions taking the best of you. You put back on your fencing helmet.

Striking the straightest pose your back could handle, you faced your rival.

Christopher Bang. ‘Chan’ for his mates.

Fencing, top class. Majored in music, again, top class in most of the career’s subjects. At 23, he played more instruments than you could remember, and between his job (one that you hadn’t found out) and fencing, you’ve heard he still produces music on the side with some people.

Yeah. But you didn’t care much. Nope.

You disliked the man. Why? He was rich. Stick-stuck-up-in-his-ass level of rich. And he used it. Not like you could prove it, but you still believed that he, along with the other wealthy members of the old fencing club, were paying for victories to the referees in competitions.

No wonder they were all so nice to him.

You couldn’t complain about it, though. These people had basically sustained the entire club for years, and, surprise surprise, there was no way you could pay for the expenses the club required. The coach could think likewise, but when Chan was named, he would always pick his side and run away before you could even react.

To be honest, Chan wasn’t your favourite person.

You hated his cockiness, how he teased and invaded your personal space, wandering about and spitting whatever thought he could come up with. It was much easier to not pry on why he annoyed you, not wanting to know if he just bothered you because he could, meaning that making him stop would be thrice as tough.

Or worse, that he hated your guts. Unfair from your side, ok, but when you first met, you were stupidly hoping to acquire a solid friendship, someone you could count on to have your back, someone whose skills you admired. It felt like a scene straight out of a Hallmark movie. Banter and teasing lines were thrown, and you could’ve sworn he was flirting with you, but when you saw a pretty girl entering the locker rooms with him that day, your heart cracked a bit.

He made you remember that whatever could happen between you two, he could make it happen in a flash with anybody, anytime. He had all the money and skills anyone could wish for.

And he knew it.

“Scared I might pinch you, buttercup?” He said, his helmet resting on his head and striking more of a suggestive pose than a defensive stance.

“I’d suggest you watch out. I might just stick this sword up your refined ass, Mr Bang,” you snickered, not sounding as playful as he had, the nickname rolling off your tongue before you could rethink it.

Chuckling, he prepared his pose, sword ready for any attack or defence when he nodded to the referee, ready to start.

Seungmin signalled, and the combat started. Sounds of the material of the swords clicking reverberated in the old building, along with the others from the remaining fights other students were having.

You tried looking for weak spots, aiming here and there in hopes of finding something, when instead, he grinned, a Chesire-like smile on his features as the tip of his épée touched your ribs.

Fuck.

Before you could notice, you were already falling behind.

“13-12. Next round,” Seungmin stated, waiting for both of you to return to your positions.

You stood as calmly as you could in fourth position as he came to attack right after signalled, surprising enough for you to be too late.

Or so he thought, because for some reason, through the masks that protected your faces, he felt your stare burn right into him.

Moving turned to a less crucial problem because the criminal violence that was suddenly happening in his body made Chris extremely confused and awkwardly flustered. He could picture those so-called ‘butterflies’ people often talked about being destroyed by some flamethrowers.

That’s the intensity I’m talking about.

With him frozen, you stopped for a second, wondering if he could’ve stepped wrong or if something had happened. You wouldn’t play an unfair fight just for the sake of mere decency. You felt a deep sensation trailing up and down your body, which awakened you enough to counterattack.

“Match point,” the referee managed to add.

Seungmin was perplexed, to say less. He had been a referee on several duels between you two and separately and never had seen such a quick build-up of a mysterious tension that magically appeared out of the blue. It was no secret to you, one of his closest friends in the club, that he was 100% sure you’d end up befriending Chris, but this?

Damn, he was proud of his intuition. Something was happening, and he had first-row seats!

“Hey, you ok?” You murmured low enough for Seungmin to not notice, approaching Chan just for him to realize how close you were and blush right away.

“D-duh.” He mumbled. You frowned.

Seungmin gave Chan a look before starting the following round. You couldn’t miss how his attacks looked weaker, his defence opening in front of you like a walk-in closet, his overall control getting smaller and smaller.

“13-14.”

You were… actually? Scratch that. You couldn’t really word it, but an anxious feeling crept inside you.

You were winning. Against Mr Bang Chan.

Why wasn’t he saying anything? No teasing, no flirty comments? He couldn’t… no, he wouldn’t just let you win, right?

That would be an ugly ass move from his side.

But unbeknownst to you, his side dealt with plenty of other issues.

Sudden flashes of unlived memories with a certain someone popped into his head.

“Your hair is so soft…”

“Can I sit on your lap till you’re done…?”

“You’re so beautiful it's breathtaking.”

“What’s a place like this doing around a pretty boy like you?”

“Shh, you’re safe, my love. You’re strong, plus I’m with you, and I’ll never let anything happen to you.”

“I’m not a delicate flower, c’monnn…! Kiss me like you mean it.”

“Uh?” His eyes almost watered, equally astonished as scared, because what were those memories? How could they be there?

“Did something happen?” You whispered, baffled as to why he had lost all the cockiness in his manner and tone, sounding defenceless, like a small child.

“N-no? I think I just…”

Chris froze. What was he going to say? ‘Hey, I know you sorta hate my guts, but I suddenly feel like you’re the love of my life…?”

Because that sounded perfect. He almost snickered. What the fuck was going on?

“Guys,” Seungmin interrupted with a warning tone.

He hated to be that guy, but flirting in front of the building owner and the coach wouldn’t look too great on the club’s side.

You and Chan stepped out of the tense bubble that formed around you. Quickly, you took off your protective gear and smiled warmly at the two persons.

Chris’ chest tightened, his heart skipped a beat.

Since when did he find you… so…?

“Cute.” He whispered, before realizing his surroundings and quickly taking off his helmet too.

“Good morning,” Coach greeted kindly, to which you both smiled. “I’m guessing both of you have already met Mrs Delaney.”

“Of course, Mike.” She smiled, small wrinkles appearing in her eyes. “Glad to see you fencing.”

You felt a stone on your stomach when you quickly noticed how she stared at Chris, much different to when she looked at you. You hated that.

Chan smiled awkwardly. The last thing he needed right now was someone who looked at him like a sexy, filled-to-the-brim bank account. Fuck that.

“Is there any reason as to why you’re here?” Seungmin questioned, curious.

Mrs Delaney smiled. “ I was speaking to Mike about organizing a fencing competition as fundraising. It’s getting trickier to maintain this building, plus it could attract more members to the club. And you two are the star athletes, so what do you think?”

You blinked, surprised that she had acknowledged your presence and valued it as much as your opinion. It was evident she was there for the money, but let’s be realistic. You would do something similar in her situation.

“I’m up for it. That sounds fun.” You simply stated, not wanting to annoy the woman with anything else so she wouldn’t stare at your soul meanly again.

Chan gave you a look, then shrugged. “Why not. But I think that the more the merrier, so why not put up an add?”

Mrs Delaney’s eyes sparkled. “Such an inteligent young man. I’ll make one right away.”

Coach and her eventually left, but you felt a shiver run up and down you back when her last words before exiting were “See you next week, good luck!”

“Not to throw anyone under the bus, but I’m not the one explaining that to the rest of the club,” Seungmin flew away.

“Good luck then, Mr Bang!” You laughed teasingly as you left with your friend.

[☆ ☆⚔️☆☆]

“You’re bluffing.”

“I’m telling you, either he stubbed his toe with thin air or his muscles were cut with an invisible thread,” he slurped his noodles, concentrating on his explanation.

Kim Seungmin wouldn’t need to go to military service because he sure served in every scenario in his life.

“Guys like Chan don’t just freeze during a fight, girl. I’m surprised you’re not all ‘panties in a bunch’ about it.”

You deadpanned. “Ok, gross. One more of those, and I’ll puke my fried chicken.”

“But actually, why, though? Do you owe me money?” He grinned.

“You owe me. I’m winning that bet cause there’s no way in hell that Chan and I can get along. But, just look at him.”

Seungmin turned around shamelessly, staring at the dining table Chan’s friend group had picked. He was laughing at some joke you hadn’t caught, allowing you to notice his dimples. Cute.

Another intense shiver gave you chills.

"If that's supposed to be a hate stare, I'm going to start thinking my landlord is in love with me," Kim laughed cruelly.

"What? Shut up! Your landlord is such a bitch, don't even try." You threw bread crumbs at him, giggling. "Besides, me, in love with him?" You couldn't hold back looking at him again, in some way that felt different than before, and perhaps it would be the first time of many because you liked what you saw. The man's beautiful brown eyes focused on you, his brown hair naturally curly for a change, a bit shorter, enough so that exposed the white and sensitive skin of his neck, and although from the angle where you were standing, you couldn't see him fully, you felt amazed.

Shutting down. Rebooting.

"I mean, look at the way he slurps up his soup. What an asshole."

[☆ ☆⚔️☆☆]

The competition had arrived before you could notice. Several members had signed in, and the crowd felt bigger than on its opening day. You sighed, nervous. The semi-finals were today, so of course, several curious people would pop their heads to see what all the noise was for. For even more spice to your mood, your opponent wasn't 'Mr Bang' yet, but someone who was even more unbearable than him.

Lee Soomun.

He had no discernible personality, but if you had to say anything about him, the only thing that made him stand out from the rest of the rich gang is that the stick up his ass would probably be the thickest.

You tightened your fist around your épée, the fencing sword, and stared at it blankly.

"Hey, you are up next," A guy named Felix mentioned, his voice as deep as anyone could imagine. "Go there and make him shut his stupid ass mouth for once."

You high-fived him. "You bet."

Getting out of the locker room, a silhouette suddenly appeared in your way.

You sighed. "Do you mind?"

He smiled sheepishly, showing his stupidly cute dimples. "Mind? In my mind? You, all day, all night."

You weren't sure if that made sense or not. You frowned. "Well, I fucking mind." You almost walked past him when he grabbed your arm in a gentle yet decisive move.

"Don't get your eyes off his grip, Yun."

You were frozen. The fact that your surname had been mentioned by him, who you doubted even cared enough to remember... only his cold tone made you wake up again. You scoffed, shrugging him off in hopes to regain your lost focus.

"I know how to fence, dummy, but thanks for the pro tip."

He stared at your back as you walked away.

"Oh, fresh meat,” your opponent greeted.

Lee Soomun.

You may dislike Chan, but this guy was even worse.

"How many points should I let you have so you get your hopes up?" His snicker could've made you sick. "Seven? Nine? Oh, maybe you've never reached so many points in one fight..." He gave you a condescending look that was so infuriating. "Let's agree on six, then."

Fuck. Breathe in, breathe out.

The referee settled on his place, and you both stood en guarde.

The fight started. You weren’t holding back, you were trying your best right from the start.

But it just wasn’t working.

You were on your second minute-long break, and if the score didn’t change in three minutes…

“10-6”

Then you were going to lose. Game over.

The referee called you back to your spots. You felt pressure on your shoulders, the grip in your épée felt weak, and the mask felt heavy.

“Yun!”

Your body stiffened. You looked towards the source of the sound, confused to see Chris, who was entering his last round for the day.

What? Chan couldn’t just forget that screaming in a fencing fight was considered really rude.

But his raspy voice that said your surname so differently from others had made you aware and catious of your surroundings, his words repeating in your head.

What could he have noticed that was important enough for him to say it?

You shook your head sideways, in hopes of getting out of your anxious state and slowing down your heart rate. The referee called you up again, and you faced your opponent again.

“I told you. No more than six. So be good, yeah?” His tone made you feel repulsively small. You hated it.

You stood en guarde when suddenly you felt a stare piercing into you. It made your entire body shiver, and the rush was so intense you couldn’t even think about the fight anymore.

You felt heat hit you in your face, and the sudden intense emotions made you too dizzy to react before Soomun’s sword was right in front of you.

And just when you thought you had almost seen it touch your chest-

Wait, what?

It… didn’t.

You moved suddenly, facing the scoreboard.

Why did it score?

“But I wasn’t touched,” you whispered.

He laughed, a rather menacing sound coming from him.

And in that moment, something clicked. That’s what Chris was trying to tell you before.

He had a rigged épée.

You see, with electric épée fencing, which was the chosen one for the competition, scoring is done in the following manner: the tip of the épée has a push button on it with wiring that, when combined with the wiring on the body cord and box of the opponent, would form a circuit, which would then signal that a hit has occurred. But what Soomun had probably done was to rig his épée so that he could close the circuit himself. But how…?

"Don't get your eyes off his grip, Yun."

Of course.

He probably had some pressure-related device hidden in the grip of his épée whenever he would appear as though he got close enough to an opponent to register a hit then it would count as a hit.

He was cheating.

“12-6.”

And he was fucking winning.

Anger stroke you through your veins. You couldn’t deal with is. You weren’t going to lose against some cheater, you didn’t care who was going under the bus because of him because it wouldn’t be you.

That was your motto during the fight, but then, weird memories started appearing in your head.

“Mmm... your hands are warm."

"You're such a tease..."

"I'm not flirting... or am I?"

"I really can't get you out of my head."

"Kiss me."

"If you stick your tongue at me again, you might as well be prepared to use it."

"Who did this to you?"

The confusion hit you hard, an impulse making you shiver in a sudden motion.

"12-7."

You had scrunched your eyes in hopes of understanding what was going on in your head. You opened them in a sudden motion.

You had fucking scored? Holy shit. Holy shit!

You smiled, feeling the anxiety's pressure lighten on your shoulders, a piercing stare that could have burned holes in your mask, not even having any sort of effect over it.

"You had one instruction."

You couldn't see his expression because of the mask on his face, but solely his voice made you tremble.

No. It wasn't anxiety now.

That thing you were feeling as soon as the next round started was pure fear.

And it was seconded when not only was he one point away from winning but, when in a dirty move, he made you stumble in your stance, faking another touch.

"15-7."

You felt a sharp pain in your chest, the bitter taste of knowing you had lost because the contrary cheated felt worse than ever. The match had ended.

Game over.

You both had to step out of the competition place together. He took his mask off and smiled gently.

"Does it hurt?" He asked in a mocking tone.

Asshole. He had gotten closer on purpose, which made you stumble in the first place.

"Not as much as how it must hurt your mother to feel your disgusting presence." You murmured, a sentence filled with poison.

He frowned, angry again. "I'll fucking kill you. I'll fucking kill you. I'll fucking murder your face, fuck you."

But suddenly, he took a quick glance behind you to just tsk and smile a cruel, dirty-rotten smile. "Have fun!"

Fuck him. Fuck him.

You walked back to the most hidden corner of the locker room. Everyone was outside, probably celebrating with whoever they believed would be the champion of tomorrow's finals.

Then, the door opened quietly. A silhouette with broad shoulders approached your sulky corner in small steps and silently sat close to you. You hugged your knees close to your chest, tearing up silently, feeling somewhat mocked.

"Do you want me to leave?" He asked in the softest, most soothing tone you've heard in a while.

You turned to face him with red, watery eyes that made Chris' heart tighten in his chest.

Instead of doing what his heart was screaming, he had to ask again.

"Do you want me out?"

When there was no response, he sighed and stood, ready to let you cope however you wanted, respecting your decision.

But he hadn't walked even two steps to the door when he felt a hand on his forearm, your sobbing not silent anymore.

"You won't laugh, right?" You whispered in between your cries.

His presence had felt like a sun ray shining through a snowstorm. Just by standing close to you, his sweet tone of voice almost lulling you to sleep, he made everything suck less.

Fuck, since when were you both so screwed?

He held you close, in the warmest embrace you had felt in a long time, so much that it allowed you to break into pieces in his arms, knowing that just by his side, you would be able to reassemble.

"It's ok, you're safe now. I'm so proud of you." Chris didn't know what to say, his hand mechanically running calming strokes through your hair.

After you had calmed down, still in the same position, you mustered your courage to ask what had been on your mind for a while.

"Why did you tell me about his rigged sword? And why be here, with me crying in some old locker room?"

Chan sighed. "I know... we have never been close, but I still worry about you. Maybe I have that because I always have taken care of my sister, but I care about everyone that I love." He shrugged, and you blinked.

God, a fucking sister. Of course. You felt so stupid.

He continued. " I thought you would've done the same if it was me, and I would have wanted to know. No one deserves to be left alone, princess." He explained, the nickname rolling off his tongue before he could rethink it.

You snuggled closer to him in a silent motion. He smiled sheepishly as he kissed the top of your forehead.

He gently swiped away your tears.

"I suck."

"You certainly do not, princess. It's not bad to cry. It proves how strong you have been." He said, tracing soft shapes on the back of your hand until he raised it and kissed your palm. You left it there, cupping his cheek, poking his dimple when he smiled. You smiled too.

"Princess, I think...?"

You interrupted him and gave him a small peck on his lips. You laughed as he stared at you wide-eyed. You grabbed his hand and stood, but he just kept looking at you from below.

"Get up, silly."

He smiled, grateful that you had cheered up.

"Is this kidnapping?" He joked.

"No. Let me grab my stuff and get changed."

"I'm scared."

You giggled. "You should be. I'm taking us both on a date."

"Where?"

"At this time, I would just go to my roommate's dance studio... care to join?"

He smiled, kinda excited. "If you insist..."

[☆ ☆⚔️☆ ☆]

~Kats, who is currently procrastinating five different projects, all due this week.

@iszaranothere because your absolute genius prompt list came right through a block like idek but tysm it made me laugh a lot T-T<3

P.D I KNOW THERE IS NO DANCING BUT YK LETS COUNT THE SWORD FIGHT AS A CHOREO + HC THAT THEY DANCED IN THE DATE LIKE IK IK BUT IT WAS TOO LONG ALREADY I STILL HOPE YOU LIKE IT THO

#stray kids #stray kids scenarios #soft hours #bang chan #stray kids x reader #stray kids fluff #skz soft thoughts #answered #first ask #chris bang #skz bang chan

87 notes · View notes

madelinetess · 9 months ago

Text

Wouldn't it be nice?

“There are only ten minutes remaining till the end of this match and Richmond players seem to be in quite the pickle.”

“You are right Arlo, it does appear to be a dangerous situation for the greyhounds. As of now the score is 1:1 but Chelsea’s in possession and it looks like they may score the winning goal after all.”

“A beautiful pass from number 11, getting through Richmond’s defence, the only thing between the Chelsea Striker and leaving the match victorious is Richmond’s goalie, Zoreaux, who seems to be having a tough day today.”

“The greyhounds are relying quite heavily on their defence players today… What’s this? A beautiful kick by the Chelsea attacker! It’s soaring through the air and… By God, Arlo, did you see that?”

“If you are referring to the brilliant dive by Richmond’s number 13, then yes, I most definitely saw it. We simply have to look at it again, the way he got in there just in time to kick the ball right back into the stands, simply marvellous.”

A slow motion replay of Jan’s desperate save displayed on the screen accompanied by the cheers of the fans in the stands and the live commentary by both Chris Powell and Arlo White.

“The Dutchman did it again. He has definitely been the backbone of today's defence, foiling most of the scoring attempts. But back to the game, it is now time for Nelson Road residents to either try and keep the ball for the remaining four minutes, or to shock us with some clever closing play.”

“You never know what to expect from them, and they’ve been continually pulling all kinds of tricks from their sleeves. Chris, what do you think is going to happen?”

“It remains to be seen, Arlo, we’ll just have to wait.”

“Bumbercatch passes to Montlaur, Montlaur goes in to score, but no! It was a feint and it’s Jamie Tartt now with the ball. Tartt passes to Rojas who gets through Chelsea’s defence and gets the ball straight to number 12 and it’s a goal! A beautiful play by the Greyhounds mere seconds before the final whistle! Richmond winds up victorious with two goals from Tartt and Hughes respectively.”

“A beautiful display of teamwork indeed. It’s games like this one that truly highlight the unity of the Nelson Road Team, the famous ‘Richmond Way’ a term coined by Trent Crimm in his best selling book…”

The commentary was now fading away as the team exited the pitch, still euphoric after the win. Jan walked feeling exhausted but hyped up and was now heading to the locker room to celebrate along with the entirety of the team. The coaches were already there, waiting for them.

Everyone got seated and the room fell into silence, awaiting Roy’s words.

“Allright, I’ll make it quick. Good job Jamie, Colin,” He nodded at each respective player but then turned towards Jan “Jan Maas. You are the main reason we didn’t fuckin’ lose today!” Excitement in their manager’s voice crystal clear.

Dani was the first one to cheer, but soon everyone joined in and the whole locker room was once again filled with excited footballers. Shoulder pats and bear hugs were exchanged once again before Roy had to shout to get them to settle down and listen to the announcements.

“Oi! You have fifteen minutes to celebrate here, and after that I expect to see you all on the bus, ready to head to the hotel.”

With that Roy left to support Rebecca handling the interviews, and both Beard and Nate followed him out of the room, probably to settle some other matters.

The team changed quickly and it wasn’t even twenty minutes later that Jan sat next to Richard on the way to the hotel. The Dutchman pulled out a well loved book that was given to him for his birthday by the man sitting right next to him out of his bag. Richard himself could never read while in a moving vehicle, so as usual he opted for listening to music and looking out the window, completely zoned out.

The ride itself was short, and soon enough they all stood in the hotel lobby waiting to get their keys.

“Listen up people!” Coach Beard could be heard over the general ruckus “You get settled and then at 8PM sharp we meet in conference room 3 for our movie night! Jan Maas, today you get the honours of drawing the movie from our box of suggestions.”

A collective choir of whoops and whistles filled the foyer.

The movie night tradition became a thing when Ted was still their manager and it was one of the many things that stuck around even after he didn’t. Of course pillow fights also kept on happening, but the clean-up after a movie night is undoubtedly easier, and watching a silly movie is definitely a great way of winding down after a difficult match.

The box of suggestions though, was Phoebe’s idea that Roy decided to implement. At the beginning of the season each player got to write down one movie name on a post-it and put it in a purple glittery shoebox. Then, every movie night someone from the team would draw a piece of paper from said box and whatever it said, that was the movie they were going to watch.

The suggestions were obviously restricted, to the disappointment of both Moe and Richard. Richard’s, because almost everyone voted no, on classic French cinema, and Bumbercatch’s for reasons unspecified. The only other rule was no one was supposed to know who suggested what.

So obviously Jan and Richard turned into a game to see if they could guess who wrote down which movie. So far they were pretty sure that Dani suggested Night at the Museum and Sam was definitely the one who pitched Ratatouille, as for the other ones they were based purely on speculation. Both of them were pretty positive that Thierry picked How to lose a guy in 10 days. Richard kept disagreeing with him about who suggested Baby Driver, it was a tie between Jamie and Isaac, but for some reason the same disagreement also occurred while debating who picked Ocean’s Eleven.

Some other movies they watched included classics such as Jojo Rabbit, Monty Python and the Holy Grail, Legally Blonde, The Greatest Showman, and Knives Out. The jury was still out on all of these.

They agreed not to disclose what movie they themselves suggested, to keep the game more interesting.

Jan however knew exactly what Richard picked. He remembers the first practice of the season, he remembers the weather outside, and the exact button up shirt that Richard wore that day.

Why does he remember that? Well, because he spent the entire after-practice meeting staring at the four undone upper buttons, and not thinking about what movie he should put down as his suggestion. That in turn meant he caught a glimpse of Richard’s post-it and the two titles written in neat handwriting. Duplex and 50 First Dates sat right there being deeply analysed by the Frenchman struggling to pick one. That’s when Jan decided, whichever one his friend doesn’t pick, he was going to write down.

The jangle of the room keys brought the Dutchman back to Earth. Richard has already gone and picked them up from coach Beard and was now motioning for Jan to follow him to their accommodations.

Most of the team roomed on the same floor, but the coaches made sure to get themselves settled the furthest away from the rest of the team. The rooms were nice enough, with a small balcony, two beds, wardrobe, a table with some chairs and an adjacent bathroom. Enough for a one night stay.

Richard immediately threw his things onto the bed by the window and sat down on it. After dozens of times sharing a room at away games Jan already knew that the Frenchman loved being woken up by the sun.

The Dutchman took the other bed and unpacked some of their bathroom things. There was no use taking two tubes of toothpaste, so they both agreed beforehand who was going to take one, same with soap and shampoo. Neither of them trusted the ones provided by the hotels.

After they were done unpacking they headed down to the dining room to grab some dinner before coming back up to their room to get changed into some sweatpants and comfy t-shirts and whatnot. Then the only thing left was to locate conference room number 3.

On the stairway they were joined by Colin, Isaac, Moe and a couple of the reserves. They already went up a flight before Reynolds stopped them to ask a question.

“Hold up, does anyone know where we are supposed to go?”

“Conference room 3, duh” Colin answered.

“Yeah, but do any of you actually know where that is?”

Everyone stopped in the middle of the stairway and shook their heads.

“Then where the hell are we going?” Goodman piped up.

“O'Brien, didn't you say that your roommate stayed back to ask the receptionist about it?”

“Yeah, he did.” Tom turned around as if to locate said roommate and didn’t seem to find him. Then he turned around again, hoping for a different result. That clearly didn’t seem to help. “I forgot Bhargava!” he yelled out and dashed down the stairs back to the rooms.

“Do you guys think he just locked him inside their room?” Colin asked, looking after the goalkeeper.

“Maybe he just forgot to tell him we were going already..?” Isaac supplied.

“Nah, he totally locked him in,” Richard laughed heartily and looked at Jan smiling which he reciprocated.

“Isn’t there a floorplan somewhere maybe?” Jan asked no one in particular. The Dutchman looked around trying to find something that would tell them where to go. While they were still standing around on the stairs they all heard O’Brien shouting.

“Lads! We got to go downstairs, not up!” A chorus of groans lasted a good ten seconds it took them to get downstairs and back to the lobby.

Once they finally reached the conference room Roy looked at them, then at his watch, and then back at them.

“What took you so long, you got fuckin’ lost, or something?”

“Well, what matters is that we are all here now.” Reynolds said after a beat of silence.

“That is the bare minimum, we said at 8, it’s 8:20”

“Actually, it’s only 8:17 so it’s closer to…” Goodman started but one look from their former captain turned manager shut him up.

"We need to learn how to appreciate the little things, like finding our way, or Richard…" Jan said, throwing an arm around his friend, who was standing right next to him.

The Frenchman was not amused, and rolled his eyes pointedly exaggerating the movement.

"Laugh all you want, I'm not the one that had to ask the hotel desk to get another duvet, because I didn't fit under the one that comes with the room."

“Fuckin’ hell… Enough of that, get inside, sit down and get ready to watch the movie.” Roy stopped them before they could drag the conversation out even longer. “Jan, come with me to pick the movie.”

Inside the conference room a projector was set up, along with a few rows of nice cushioned chairs to sit on. Roy stood in front of the chairs waiting for the footballers to settle down on their seats.

“Today's match was hard,”Roy began his speech. “but we pulled through. And we fuckin’ won!” Here Roy paused, waiting for the cheers to die down. “And we owe it not only to the ones scoring the goals, but to our defence as well, especially to Jan Maas over here, so Nate,” Here Roy turned to the shorter man, “Bring in the Box!”

Nate approached with the glittery shoebox and dramatically opened the lid before turning to Jan waiting for the Dutchman to pick out a post-it note with the title of today’s movie.

Jan covered his eyes and reached into the box pulling out a piece of paper folded twice, handing it to Roy and walking off to sit down on an empty chair next to Richard that the shorter man saved for him.

“And the movie of the evening is… 50 First Dates!”

Some people whooped, some looked around confused. Richard turned to look at Jan grinning. Jan returned the gesture for the second time today and turned to the screen waiting for the movie to start. He has never seen it before, but since Richard enjoyed it, then it must be nice.

The snack bowls were passed around, the light turned off, and the movie put on. Jan held onto the popcorn he was handed. For the next hour and a half every now and then the Frenchman would nudge him to get the bowl within his reach.

From time to time someone would snicker at some joke, Jamie definitely winced at the scene where Lucy beat Henry up, Thierry pointed out the fact that the dolphins were named Mary Kate and Ashley and Dani shot up during the diary burning scene to exclaim that it’s almost like that time when they were getting rid of the ghosts from the treatment room.

They all bawled their eyes out at the break up scene, and tissues had to be passed around during the final one. Jan ended up liking the movie and judging by the fact that by the end most of the players were trying to hold back tears, so did they.

Once the light came back on the coaches gave them ten minutes to tidy up, and get back to their rooms. Isaac and Sam stayed the longest to make sure everything was back to how it was beforehand, which meant Colin was stuck outside the doors waiting for his room key that his best friend held on to, Jan and Richard decided to keep him company.

“How’d you like the movie?” the Welshman asked, noticing how the two of them decided to wait around with him.

“I liked it” Jan simply answered “And you, Richard, you’ve seen it before, right?”

“Yeah, but I still find it enjoyable.”

“Yeah? Is it because Henry reminds you of… well, you?” Colin laughed

“Why? Because Dickie here is a shameless flirt, or actually a softie that cares a lot about penguins?” Colin joked as Isaac joined their group while Sam was locking up the conference room.

“I’ll have you know, penguins are actually great animals.”

“Yeah, and they are also the best secret agents in the world” the Nigerian finally joined their tiny circle, and they were able to start moving towards their rooms.

They all stopped in front of Sam and Dani’s room to talk a bit more before retiring for the night. Jan couldn’t help but notice how short Richard looked standing next to them all, well, maybe not next to Colin, but the rest of them towered over the Frenchman a little.

After about ten minutes of idle lounging around Colin yawned loudly prompting their discussion to halt.

“Need your beauty sleep?” Isaac asked.

“Better not, because he would need a lot of it.” Richard quipped.

“And remember, we have to be up early tomorrow.” Jan replied without missing a beat.

Colin flipped them both off as they bid the group farewell and took off in the direction of their room.

Back in their room they got ready to sleep taking turns in the bathroom. Richard went in first so when Jan exited after his own shower he was surprised to see his friend still up clearly waiting for him. As soon as the Frenchman noticed Jan was done in the bathroom he motioned for him to join him on the bed, so Jan did.

“So, who do you think picked the movie? I’m pretty sure both Dixon and Goodman recognised it but I’m not sure any of them would have picked it as their one choice.”

“How about Tommy Winchester?” Jan suggested trying to seem oblivious.

“Nah, that’s also not it…Maybe Reynolds?” the shorter man continued to speculate.

“How do I know it wasn’t you?” It might have been a bit of a risky move there, but it wasn’t unsound to assume that. “After all you did know the movie and I remember you mentioning something about liking Drew Barrymore romantic comedies…”

“It does make sense, but let me tell you a secret. I wanted to put that one down, but ended up picking a different movie.” Richard winked at him and it took all the self control Jan had to not reveal to him that he knows. “Also, you remembered that comment about Drew Barrymore? I didn’t even remember it until you mentioned it.”

“We are friends, I remember things about you. Things like your favourite actress… Maybe not the French cinema ones, because most of them I’ve never heard of, but you know… other ones…”

“Give French cinematography a try, you may end up liking it. We could put a film on during our next charcuterie night?”

“How did you end up liking it? I didn’t think goat farms had access to a lot of fancy French cinemas.”

“Well, my maman had a big city soul and I got it from her. She never did get out of the farm, but I did and have been living with splendour for the two of us ever since. Never looked back…”

“You never talked about her before… She sounds like a lovely woman.”

“She was… She was the only one who would get my father to dance with her. He was the most stern man you’ve ever met, but when she put on an old record and asked him to dance he would, just like that… Bought them an Adele record for their 20th wedding anniversary with the money I earned in my first job because that was the only new release at the local store. Père and I listen to it every time I visit him back home.”

They were now both lying down, propped up on the big pillow and looking at the ceiling, Richard leaning on him.

“What is your family like? I don’t think I ever heard you talking about them either…”

“Well, I have a brother and a sister, both older than me, and my parents own a small corner shop…”

Jan woke up in the middle of the night disoriented. He looked around and noticed someone lying on top of him.

Richard’s rhythmic breaths and the rise and fall of his chest calmly brought Jan back to Earth and stopped him from panicking lest he wake up the smaller man. They must have fallen asleep whilst talking.

The Dutchman looked back at his friend and smiled softly at how the other man curled up into him. He made a move to reach for the blanket at the foot of the bed without stirring the Frenchman but was unsuccessful in his attempt as the other man stirred awake.

“Morning… Well, not morning, but there isn’t really a greeting for the middle of the night…”

“Hello to you too… Can we go back to sleep, or are you gonna move some more?”

“I… Well, uh… Sure, let’s, let’s get back to sleeping.” Before lying back down Jan draped the blanket over the both of them and spared one last look at his best friend. He waited before Richard’s breathing slowed down again before speaking.

“I was the one who put down that movie… Because I saw you struggling to pick one, and I decided to pick the one you wrote off.” He was now absentmindedly tracing patterns on Richard’s right shoulder and arm while spilling some stuff he’d be too scared to admit in the daylight. “I couldn’t stop looking at you that day… And many days before and after that. It’s been a thing for quite some time. And now I’m thinking that I’d like to buy a gramophone so that we could get a vinyl of some Adele album and dance to it, and maybe visit your dad on the farm… You could show me the goats. I've never touched a goat before… And maybe we could grow older together, but not as friends… As something…”

“Just so you know, I’m not asleep yet…”Richard whispered softly as Jan's face dropped. “And I think I would like that too, but maybe we could talk about it more in the morning?” Jan’s face went from horrified to touched to happy as he hugged the man lying next to him.

He pressed a soft kiss to the top of Richard’s head and burrowed his face in his hair. Richard in turn kissed his neck before turning to find a comfortable position and go back to sleep.

“Goodnight Richard”

“Goodnight Jan”

#janchard #richard montlaur #jan maas #it was supposed to be a short fic #long post #ted lasso #richmond movie night tradition #It was mentioned once that Richard likes romantic comedies with Drew Barrymore and here we are now #“I FORGOT BHARGAVA” is now immortalized in a fic #richmond boys #this got away from me...#spoilers for 50 first dates ig #Writing football commentary as both not a fan of the sport and not a native english speaker was... fun? Yeah it was fun.#I hope I did okay #I'll add the ao3 link in a reblog as soon as I post the fic on there

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