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[procrastination-queenie]

It's just an inchident | LN4

Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader

Synopsis: you love dotting on Lando

Or

Lando doesn't appreciate you over-feeding him.

Warning(s): Takes place during the car crash at the Vegas GP. Lando is self-critical. Toothrooting fluff, isn't that what you call it? High Lando, don't ask me, but he gave me high vibes in those photos after the crash (hope he's feeling better tho. 🥹) Hints of reader being a foreigner (dunno if this should be put as a warning!)

Author's note: I don't know anything about health care or medical field, so just excuse my lame ass medical justifications. Also some of the comments mentioned in the Smau and the story line are 100% from real life.

"Oooh, yellow flag at turn 14"

"It's a red flag now."

"Is that an accident or .... oh it's an accident.

"Oooh my God. Is that Mclaren?... It's Norris."

"That's lando Norris. Oh my... what an ..."

You heart was beating so loudly in your chest as you kept monitoring the small screens closely waiting for Lando to get out.

Eyes wide, hands covering your mouth to prevent yourself from screaming as you looked at his engineer. "Is he okay?" His engineer was trying to reach him "Lando are you okay?" There was no answer for a few seconds. The cameras of the F1 monitoring your response to the accident closely. Just when you were about to lose it, take off your headset and run to the crash site, lando's mic started working. "I'm fine" you immediately looked back at the screen, not believing him because it showed; it was obvious in his voice that he was not fine, the way he grunted in pain and how his hand was shaking when using the buttons on the wheel of the car, all of it told you that he was not fine.

You were still frowning deeply when they replayed the moment the car was almost on fire and how he was trying his best, very quickly, to control the steering wheel, but in vain. You felt helpless watching as you tried to imagine the gravity of it and how he must be feeling right now.

"Y/n" you looked away from the screen about to ask them where Lando is, so you can go see him. "Y/n, they're going to take lando to the medical centre." You were about to panic even more when his engineer assured you. "It's just for check up, don't worry. They said he's fine. They just want to make sure," you nodded; however, this didn't calm you one bit. What if they checked and turns out there's actually something to worry about?

You grabbed your jacket and bag and headed to the hospital right away. His coach, Jon, went with you to the hospital. You were anxiously waiting in a room until they rolled lando on a bed into the room,with machines and wires attached to his upper body.

"Hey baby" he dragged the last syllable, which made you look at him funny then turn to the doctor. "Ugh, he's on some medications to get him relaxed,he was shaken up from the whole thing." You looked back at poor Lando to find him nodding in agreement with the doctor. "Okay, then I'll leave you to it, he shouldn't be staying for long anyways. We will keep him for like an hour maximum to make sure there are no side effects after the accident."

"Why does he look ... loopy?" You gently hit Jon's shoulder who chuckled lightly at your cute way of reprimanding him. You shook your head as you sat next to Lando. "Are you okay, baby?" He nodded looking up at you like a baby that needs attention. You chuckled at his behaviour he was definitely acting loopy.

"Does anywhere hurt?" You inquired trying to get him to talk. He nodded. Your face fell for a second, worried that the doctor might have missed something when checking on Lando. "Where?" You scanned the rest of his body quickly before looking back at him for an answer. "Here" he said pointing at his heart. You frowned in a are-you-serious-mannar that got Jon erupting in laughter at Lando's lack of awareness due to the meds. "Shut up!" You said shaking your head as you looked back at lando who was all pouty, yet had this look in eyes that was expecting something from you.

"No, lando. I am being serious." You held his hand while the other played with his hair which got his eyes fluttering a bit. "Is there anything that's hurting you?" You leaned into him whispering. He huffed in annoyance. "YES, yes there is. Your lack of affection is hurting me woman. Just give me a kiss and I'll feel better." You were surprised with his behaviour, what kind of meds did the doctor put him on?

Again you heard Jon try his best to supress a laugh, but you ignored him this time, rolling your eyes. You were really worried, usually when things like that happened during a race, Lando doesn't take it easy on himself and he jumps right away at any opportunity to criticise his performance;however, you were thankful that the meds have eased his nerves a bit for him to actually think about what happened. "Am I going to keep on waiting for too long?" The bratty side was starting to show which made you laugh.

"What are you laughing about?" He asked in amusement totally unaware of the presence of his coach in the room as well. "Nothing,... you're just ... I don't know. You're acting like a baby." You answered between fits of laughter. "Yeah, but I am your baby right?" His tone completely changed from sassy to worried which made you look at him in awe. You couldn't deny him any longer, honestly who would? You leaned into him slowly only to see him close his eyes really fast preparing for your kiss. This made you find difficulty in holding your laughter back, but lando has had enough so he pulled you in for a kiss that literally almost took your breath away. His hand was warm over your cheek. He let go and removed his hand from your cheek and leaned on his back to rest, leaving you speechless. "Wasn't that hard was it?" His sassy side was back.

You blushed while laughing, which in return made lando beam at you in happiness. You rested your head on his shoulder, "I was so worried about you." You said. "I know, but I am fine now" he said planting a kiss on the crown of your forehead. You tried to shake away any thoughts of a more aware lando that you will definitely have to deal with later as you lost yourself to sleep.

True to his words, the doctor returned back with the news of releasing Lando from the hospital. You were helping lando put on some clothes since he hadn't changed out of his race suit, yet. He was pulling his grey hoodie over his head when he winced, "What's wrong?" You asked, concern evident in your voice. "Nothing just remembered I have to comment on the crash." It was evident from his tone that he was starting to sober up from the meds. You dreaded what he was going to go through. "Lan, please take it easy on yourself,hm?" You said patting his cheek before giving him a gentle kiss on his cheek. He nodded with sleep glossing over his eyes, he must be really tired; he also didn't get to rest well because of the jet lag.

"Lando, lando, lando"

There were some reporters waiting outside of the medical centre for lando as you both exited along with Jon and the security team.

"Lando what do you think of today's incident?" One of them asked putting the mic as close to Lando as possible.

"An unfortunate end to our Las Vegas GP weekend," he said. "I just bottomed out on the restart, lost the rear and hit the wall. Not the way we wanted the weekend to end, especially considering the pace looked promising on Oscar’s side."

Jon queued that it was time to leave, so lando gave them a final word before heading off.

"Big thanks go to the medical staff for checking me over, and to the team for the work they’ll now put in on the car. One week to reset and go again for the season finale in Abu Dhabi.”

"Of course, thank you for you time Lando. Hope you feel better, mate." Lando nodded as he got escorted away and into the car with you. He rested his head into your lap the moment he got into the car.Your hand immediately took place between his soft curls. Lando hummed quietly dozing off to sleep since he was super tired.He had to be woken up again when you both arrived at the Hilton. He refused to let you go, even during the lift ride, almost most of his weight was on you as he leaned into you. You reached your room quickly, and helped him into the bathroom. "Lando, baby please wash up first while I get you something to eat yeah," you gently requested of him before you let him go. He wanted to protest, but you were not hearing any of it; not only was he jet lagged but he hadn't had any proper meal today.

It seemed that Lando opted for a quick shower since you heard it running as you changed out of your clothes. He finished by the time the food arrived to your room. You both ate in bed under the covers, the t.v on for background noise, none of you paying attention to it. You tried to talk with him, not wanting to leave him to his harsh and self critical thoughts. "feeling better,baby?" Lando nodded quietly munching on his fries as your fingers coiled his curls in place. You didn't miss the way a small smile made its way on his lips, he loved it when you played with his hair. It just made him weak.

"I am sorry you couldn't be proud of me tonight. You didn't even get to enjoy the race." You frowned at his words that he said after a few seconds of silence. "Lando," you placed your plate aside and turned to him fully so you can face him. "You know that you always make me proud. Always. No matter what the result is." You looked into his eyes to show him how sincere you were. "Lando, even if you weren't an F1 driver, I'd still be proud of you no matter what." You tried to comfort him. He didn't deserve it. What happened wasn't even his fault, and Andrea mentioned this to the media, as well. "All I could think about when that accident happened was your safety." You almost teared up thinking back to how he must have felt in that moment and the panic that showed through his hand and head movement, how he must have been taken aback by it all. "Baby, don't cry now," he said, putting his plate aside as well. "No, Lando, don't. Because it really tears me up inside how you can be so judgemental towards yourself," you said, gently moving his hand away from your face that was trying to wipe away your tears. "Baby, you're amazing, and I am sure that one day you'll be as amazing as all the drivers you have ever looked up to and even more. I just know it. Just please don't do this to yourself. It's always a team effort, not just one person, and I know that you always give it your all, so just please don't be so harsh on yourself because you don't deserve it." Lando nodded as he came closer to give you a hug. "I am sorry, I didn't know I was being such an ass." He said. "You're not being an ass to me. You're being an ass to yourself, and I really hate it when you do that." You sniffed, hugging him back and hiding your face in his neck. Warm breath teasing his neck, which made him giggle a bit, made your heart flutter. "Ah, how did I get so lucky," he said under his breath, but you heard him. "I love you so much." You said, looking up into his pretty eyes. "I love you too, baby." He said before kissing you.

"Now, eat." You said gesturing with your head towards his plate. "Nah, I wanna cuddle instead."

"Lando, eat first and then we can cuddle."

"Ugh, fine. So bossy," he muttered.

"Ugh, so sassy." You copied him as he gave you a side eye.

You both erupted in laughter. "Love you," he said focusing back on his food.

"Love you to the moon and back," you said

"Love you more,"

"No, I love you more,"

"No, I love you even mo-" he was not giving up, but you had to make sure he was well fed. "Lando, finish your food, or I swear to God..."

"Fine, fine woman jeez... why can't you just reciprocate my love," he mumbled again.

"Landooo,"

"I am eating, I am eating, see," he said with a mouth full of fries. You laughed and shook your head. How did you even end up with this dork, you thought.

________________________

Instagram

LandoNorris

Liked by Your Username and 1,950,465 others.

Rough day. Big impact. But feeling okay! Thanks for all of the messages ❤️ See you next weekend

Comments:

Mclaren: 🧡🧡🧡

Zedd: Glad you're alright brother!❤️

Charles_leclerc: Feel better mate!

Maxverstappen1: why do you look like you're high?

↬Your Username: that's because he was indeed high 🥴

↬Landonorris: I was not 😳😳😳

↬Your Username: yes, you were. I have proof. Jon has a video of you.

↬FanUserName1: I wanna see it sooo bad.

↬FanUserName2: me too.

↬Danielricciardo: me three. 👀

↬Landonorris: Fuck off, Daniel.

Y/UserName

Liked by landonorris and 1,783,631 others.

He's feeling better and that's all that matters. Always proud of you, love.💋

Comments:

Carlossainz55: yeah, right feel better, love 💋🙄

↬Your Username: Carlos, I swear to God, i will not tolerate the attitude just because you're Latino.👊🏼

↬Carlossainz55: oh no I am so scared. 🙄

↬Your Username: @iamrebeccad come get your boyfriend.

↬iamrebeccad: Carlos, I've had enough. Honestly stop it. I have to run around in the comments to stop this nonsense more than I run around from one city to the other for your races.🤦🏻‍♀️

↬Carlossainz55: mi amour, not you too.🥲💔

↬iamrebeccad: feel better guys, hopefully it won't happen again.🥹 @landonorris @/your username.

FanUserName1: oh my God, Rebecca dragging Carlos through the comments.😂😂😂

adam_norris_pure_electric: ❤️

*your username and Landonorris reacted to this comment *

FanUserName2: take care of him please.🥹🙏🏼

FanUserName3: We love you landinho, get well soon 🇧🇷 💛💚💛💚

OscarPiastri: Feel better, Lando🥹

↬Your Username: dw, I am taking good care of him.😁

↬LandoNorris: yeah, she's keeping me well fed.

↬FanUserName4: I knew it!! y/n's type of love is acts of service. Imagine her feeding lando and how she would act if he said that he's full.

↬FanUserName5: I don't wanna know tbh. The paps got a photo of her this one time when he refused taking any more food when they were out on a date,and she looked like she was one minute away from smashing the plate over his head.

↬Your UserName: in my defense he was not eating well, and I couldn't leave him like that without food.🤷‍♀️

↬LandoNorris: WITHOUT FOOD?!!😳😳😳 Babe you made me eat my whole plate and half of yours, i wouldn't count that as no food.

↬Your UserName: Sweetheart, back in my country this counts as a little girl's appetite.

↬Danielricciardo: hahaha she just roasted you on national t.v.🤣🤣🤣

↬LandoNorris: @Heidierger_ come get your bf. 😑

↬FanUserName6: What's with athletes having their gfs come collect them from this comment section ?! 😂😂😂😂

Mclaren: Take a deserved rest. We still have Abu Dhabi coming up. 🧡💪🏼

[fictionalmenxyn]

꧁𝐚 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠꧂

Pairing: frat!rafe x sorority!reader

Face claim: Sophia Birlem

Warning: drinking

Summary: a party that leaves them thinking. Is this more than a simple football player and coaches daughter?

(Kai is your brother, older by a year and your last name for this maybe series depends if u guys like it. Your last name is Maddens.)

Reader has souther accent/they all do…

(Been into country recently so I am referencing a song in this, so if you don’t like country, think of another song :))

(Also a little author’s note/life update, idk if you’ll read this, but I got into college! Can’t even believe it tbh. It’s nuts! Cause originally I wanted to do sixth form (I’m British btw). But my school couldn’t do it this year. So I went to apply for college and today I officially became a student!! :D)

꧁𖥕𖥕𖥕꧂

It was one of the first frat parties of the summer. Weather was warm and booze kept on flowing.

You were with your friends at the frat house Rafe, Topper, Kelce and Kai. You were grabbing drinks with your friends. Pouring yourself a Malibu and coke into your red solo cup. You grab the sharpie and wrote ‘y/n/n’ . You put the sharpie down, then sipping your drink, you head to the living space.

You and your friends walked over to the makeshift dance floor of the living space. The couches had been pushed back and the coffee table out of the way, making room to dance.

You and your friends danced like there was no tomorrow. And that’s what you lived about you and your friends, you weren’t ashamed to have a good time, unlike most girls in your classes.

The football boys were all playing beer pong. Rafe was sat with Kelce as they both waited their turn to play. Rafe glanced around the place, then he was you. God you looked so good tonight, you did anyways, but tonight felt different. Maybe it’s because you aren’t in jeans or your cheer or soccer clothes. But he didn’t mind what you wore, it was you that he liked.

He sipped his beer and watched you dance with your girlfriend’s care free. He liked that about you. You’ve both hung out multiple times. I mean he’s your brother’s best friend ALSO one of your dad’s star players. He’s talked to you many times, but tonight seemed different.

He smiles a little as he watches you flip your hair side to side as you swing your hips and laugh with your friends. Many guys had their eyes on you tonight, including Rafe.

Kelce broke his thoughts “dude, quit eyeing up Y/n all night, man” “shut it, Kelce.” Kai smirked “dude we know you like my sister, admit it, besides pretty sure she likes ya back… but you didn’t hear shit from me, yeah??”

Rafe smirked.

He glances to you one last time, before taking his turn in beer pong.

Five minutes ago… (your pov)

You laughed with your friends, then Brooklyn tapped your shoulder. She said “hey, Rafe is lookin’ at you again, girl.” You smirked “oh really?” She laughed and nodded. “Give him a show, girly!!” You both laughed as you playfully flipped your hair side to side and swing your hips to the beat. Brooklyn encouraged you even more. So you lightly smack your thighs as you keep your hands there as you sway your hips.

You look over your shoulder to see Rafe now playing beer pong, stealing glances from you every so often. “Girl, he’s so into you, it’s so obvious now…” you shrug her comment off. Why would he be interested in you? He has girls left right and centre… yeah you’re popular and naturally pretty. But girls go it him, isn’t that what he likes? Right…?

After some time, you walk over to the drinks table to grab your third drink. You walk over to the big wooden table that you know has been repaired so many times that you can’t count on your hands anymore. You were about to grab the Malibu bottle when you hear your name. “Y/n!”

You look over your shoulder and smile “Hey Rafe, great party tonight” he grins as he shoves his hands into his jean pockets. “Thanks, glad you came…” you nodded “glad I did, how’s Kai? He’s not wasted yet is he??” He laughs “no, not yet anyways, what about you? How many have you had?” You replied “this will be my third. Been to busy dancing that getting more drinks.”

He chuckled “yeah I saw, you look good tonight.” You laugh and put your hand up, you said lightheartedly “please, spare me your reused white bitch pick up lines.” He laughs. He liked that about you, your humour and the fact you didn’t fall easy. It gets boring to him if you fall easy, that’s why he didn’t have feeling for the hook ups he would have.

He held up the Malibu bottle “here, lemme put you one, as I’m a good host.” You sarcastically laugh “good one, Cameron, you’d be pouring one for everyone if you were a good host.” He laughed back “who says I wanna be a good host to everyone??” “Touché, Cameron.”

He poured the coke, then handed you the solo cup “try that, princess.” You take a sip and hold your thumbs up. He smirked “good?” You nodded “yep, thanks.”

He looked over to the boys for a moment, he saw them move their hands in a usher motion as a silent ‘stay with her’. He playfully rolled his eyes then turns back to you. “Wanna dance?” You smirked “I thought you’d never ask, Cameron.” You stuck your hand out and guide him over to where you were minutes ago…

You held his hand with one of your hands as the other held your drink. You stuck your arm up in the air, while his didn’t pass the top of his head; due to height difference. You smile, tilting your head back as you dance to the rhythm. He smiled down at you. He could get used to this odd feeling he had deep down.

You hear a country song come on, you gasp when you knew what it was. ‘Dirt on my boots’ by Jon Pardi, started to blast through the speakers. You were surprised to hear a country song, but you were happy. You loved this song, Kai knew, so Rafe knew. Maybe he might’ve been in control of the speakers and added this song, just for you…

You sway your hips as you sing out, in your best thick southern accent “give me half an hour, for a shave and shower and I’ll be outside of your house!”

You started to do your own sort of line dancing when you sang your heart out “might have a lil’ dirt on my boots! But I’m takin’ you uptown tonight! Might have a lil’ mud on my wheels! But they’re gonna shine with you up inside!” Thank god you had your black cowboy boots on tonight. Matched your black dress perfectly.

The boys all watched you and Rafe together. Kai smirked, he knew his best friend was falling for his sister. And honestly, he wasn’t mad. Yeah sureee, best friend and sister, some may say is bad. But Kai could definitely see you both as a couple; no doubt about it.

Rafe watched you in awe as you kept line dancing to the chorus “might have a lil’ dirt in my boots!” He chuckled at your carefree attitude. God, he loved it… he loved you.

You smirked as you looked to Rafe. You took off his snapback, pulling it on your head. He didn’t know what to do with himself. It may be a baseball cap, but it was his. And you were in it.

You both continue to dance as the song died down. You smiled “bet you didn’t expect that?!” He laughed “definitely didn’t, princess.”

You both headed over to the drinks table as Rafe wanted to grab another beer. You look around to see your friends are either with their boyfriend or a possible friend or even hook up. You looked back to Rafe “you don’t mind if I stick with you and the guys?” He shook his head “we won’t mind, c’mon” he stuck his hand out, hoping you’d grab his hand.

You intertwined your hands, he could get use to this.

He guides you both through the parts of crowds. Until you got to one of the random couches in the ‘family’ room. Which the frat house turned into a chill sports room to watch football or any other sports they were interested in.

You hug your brother, Kai joked “he been behaving??” You laugh “of course.” He smirked then let you go. Rafe patted the spot on the couch next to him. Then Kai subtly nudged Topper to sit in that spot. You playfully roll your eyes at your brother’s actions, he wasn’t subtly, at all. You were very close to Kai, so he knew you well and you knew him well.

Kai wasn’t really protective, in a certain way. He was if he didn’t know the people you hung out with. But he knew you could handle yourself and carry your own. So he never tried to interfere with your drama, unless he needed. So the ‘thing’ between Rafe and yourself. He knew it was your choice and he’d let you do whatever. But Kai has already gave everyone in the frat house the ‘if you ever get with my sister and break her heart, I’ll break your face’ talk.

You see Topper had got comfy in your, well was, spot. Rafe patted his thigh “come on, you know I don’t bite.” You laugh and shake your head at his comment. You walk over and sit on his lap. He kept a hand on your hip. Not knowing how far you’d let him put his hands on you. So he kept the simple, hand in hip. Subtly way for guys to back off you, also simple ways for Rafe to have you close.

You chatted with most of the boys, Rafe just listened. Your voice was honey to him. And it was perfect that you talked a lot. Not in a rude way, but you lived to socialise with people you knew well. Like the other day. You came over the frat house to drop off something for Kai. Then ended up having a hour and half conversation with Topper about a new movie you both had seen. Or another time where you were sat on the field with the football team. After a training you were talking with them. You loved to talk and you were good at getting people to talk back; even if they were shy. You were a very confident yet comforting person to be with and talk to. You were good at that, which Rafe loved and appreciated.

Before you knew it, it was already half one in the morning. You told your friends you’d meet them out front by one thirty. So you had to go. You hugged the guys and bid your farewells.

As you headed out the house, you met up with your friends. Two of your friends, boyfriends were coming back to your sorority house. So you girls weren’t walking home on your own.

One of the guys said “hey, Y/n? Whose hat is that??” You touched the top of your head. Your tipsy self gasped and covered your mouth for a moment. Your friends all laughed “whose is it??”

“Oh my god, it’s Rafe’s hat, I forgot to give it back.” You laugh.

“Hmm maybe you’ll have to go give it back… oh! Maybe he didn’t tell you on purpose!”

Correct.

“I’ll have to go back tomorrow…”

“Oh yeah you are, we’ll kick you over there otherwise!”

You and your friends all laugh together.

What a great night. And what a great day to come. Hopefully Rafe won’t be too made that you stole his hat… maybe he’s not even mad at all.

Correct.

꧁𖥕𖥕𖥕꧂

Shall I make this a series??? Plz let me know either through ask box or messages, plz and thx, have a good day/night all!! 🫶🫶

[ontheoddoccasioniwritestuff]

First Time Footie Fan (John Price x Escort!Reader)

Part of the "Purchase Your Time" Series

Summary: Talking stage has been complete and at last you get John in his comfort zone, not where he thinks yours is, and progress is made.

Content warning: Minors DNI, 18+ only. Reader is gender neutral and a sex worker, but no smut/sex in this chapter.

First Meeting and First "Meeting" // AO3 Version // Masterlist

“Oh, I saw he’s retiring,” You pointed to a massive electric screen, somehow immune to the rain and spray of the motorway, that boasted the pride and joy of Liverpool, Jürgen Klopp, “And everyone in the city is going into mourning.”

“More like half the country,” John’s eyes briefly acknowledged the advert before zeroing back on the road, “One of the greatest football coaches ever.”

“Greater than Ted Lasso?”

“Who?”

Eager to spew about the new show you’d binged between your last meeting and now, but wanting to remain as cool as possible, you said in best attempt at a casual affect: “It’s a show about an American soccer coach becoming the coach of a British football team. All I know about football is from that show.”

John shook his head with a sarcastic chuckle, “Soccer, it’s bloody football.”

You nodded in agreement, “’Course, they call rugby ‘football’ even though-”

“They use their hands!”

“And they wear helmets and shoulder pads. Wusses.”

“You into rugby then?” John caught your eye quickly before returning it to the road ahead.

You grinned, “Not at all.”

That got you a proper laugh from deep in John’s chest, puffing out under his coat.

You stuck your hands beneath your lap, restraining the anticipation for your first proper date. Yes, you’d been for dinners and stayed at hotels together. But now you were both past the talking phase and John wasn’t like a deer in the headlights every-time he was allowed to do something that could be construed as intimate. You’d shushed his apologies for jumping straight to the bedroom – even when there was no sex – and insisted that this “partner package” he asked for meant he could treat you like an actual spouse. Besides, you wanted to engage with something he liked, and he did promise you a football match.

His black truck was parked amidst a hoard of other vehicles, half a mile from the stadium – “so we’re not stuck in traffic later”, John had said. You were ready to rumble. But, when you reached for the car handle, John touched your arm. He already had his gloves on; the moulded leather almost tricked you into thinking it was hisbare callouses.

“I got something for you.” Then he pointed to the glovebox in front of you, his keenness hidden behind a carefully constructed expression of neutrality. You popped the glovebox open to reveal a black tissue-paper parcel.

As you sat it in your lap with your hands curved around it as if to safeguard it from waddling off you, you said cheekily, “If it’s lingerie, it’s too late for me to change.”

Rolling his eyes with an air of fondness, not a sting of derision, John dodged your gaze as he corrected your assumption: “Another time, perhaps.”

Unable to hold back, you sliced through the paper. A scarf of burning red fell out in a bundle. Liverpool Football Club’s insignia sat bold on both ends with snow white frills, a proper scarf to wear to the stadium.

You freed it from the rest of the tissue paper and immediately wrapped it around your neck, “I’m like a good luck charm!”

“Certainly lucky to have you here,” John replied.

As he still had yet to let you near his lips, you leant over the centre console and kissed John’s cheek. “Thank you. Now c’mon, I wanna get food before we watch the match.” As you stepped out of the car, you allowed yourself a little smirk at the smile lines forged on John’s face from your kiss.

Brewing eagerness echoed around the concrete walls of the stadium from everyone you walked past. Faces painted, shirts as bright as your scarf, you and John appeared quite casual by comparison. Content, you jostled and edged your way to purchase your overpriced fried food before you made your way to your seat. No dainty way to eat it, the condiments spurted out the opposite side with every bite and the napkin fell apart as soon as it came into contact with the viscous foodstuffs. It was only made more awkward when you had to stand up twice to allow other fans scooch on past.

“How was work, by the way? Good?” It was all you could ask John, and it was all you could presume since he called you a week earlier than his final text had alluded to.

“Fine. Nothing we haven’t done before,” John wiped his mouth clean of ketchup, “And you?”

Now you knew how he felt being asked. Your job was hardly as normal as his.

“All normal too,” You said. There was a lull between you. Perhaps you could market that as the real domesticity he was missing out on: not so comfortable silences on a date.

But John had to be the smooth operator he was, his knees slanted slightly towards you to share a secret: “You know, I got my job at a football match.”

You perked up, “Yeah?”

“Hmm, my colleague and I met in this stadium,” And he pointed across the pitch where you could see a family holding up a banner in the stands. “That section there.”

“I’m guessing it wasn’t a coincidence.”

“How’d you guess?”

“Your secrecy levels imply there’s not such in thing in that line of work.”

John cracked a smile, “She spent the whole time calling it ‘soccer’, until I corrected her. Then we got talking and she dropped the offer five minutes later.”

“So she annoyed you into taking the bait?”

“Pretty much.”

You flattened your lips together, impressed. “She sounds cool.”

“Well, don’t tell her that, I’ll never hear the end of it.”

Kick-off at quarter past eight met with a comfortable end to your conversation. You spent half the time on your feet. Players on the pitch were relentless with Liverpool constantly pinging the ball back towards their goal. Felt unfair to the other team, but you didn’t feel bad at all. In fact, the energy had transmitted into you and John. Up and down like Jack in the boxes, you felt it in your stomach’s pit each time an attempted goal missed, tapping your face in John’s arm like a door knocker with another missed opportunity.

John often let out roars in accordance with the intensity of his disappointment. He’d pat your shoulder to help recover you both as fast as the team whose scarf you wore.

But by half-time, the score was 2-0 to your new (only) favourite football team.

“I’ve got a goddamn stitch from all that!” You gasped, slumping a little in your seat. Your hands became sore with the amount you were clapping. “Is it always this nuts?”

“I will say this one is a bit of a spectacle.”

No wonder he liked it: harmless entertainment to take his mind off his job, whatever it was. It was the same reason you had binged Ted Lasso over the span of last week. You decided to link your fingers in his and squeezed tightly, and he accepted this with a kiss on your temple in return. Score. Literally. He was getting acceleratingly more comfortable with you than he had in all those restaurant floors and hotel beds.

Your hand only left his when the match was off again, rejuvenated and ready to amplify your cheers.

When Chelsea managed to get a goal in, your inch of self-control got away from you, loudly booing with everyone else. Chanting their demise and that everyone on their team’s mother was a slag no longer seemed mean. You were too invested with Liverpool’s two goal lead and were another Chelsea score away from praying to a God you weren’t sure you believed in. Once or twice, you caught John smiling at you – a cross between sly and pride over how he’d indoctrinated you into the cult of football.

At last, after a blocked attempt, the fourth goal smashed into the bottom right corner. Jumping on the spot, you used one hand on John’s bicep for balance in case your footing did not land square on the tiny section of concrete your seat granted. You almost knocked his beanie off as you joined the Mexican wave rippling around the stadium.

As the crowds started to dispel, you and John remained in your seats as you both recounted your favourite parts. John seemed a bit unawares at first, and you remembered he usually came to these alone. So you had to lead with your highlights, John chipping in with previous games he’d seen to add to your newfound interest.

Eventually, you were made to leave the stadium, with only fond memories and your scarf, without the adrenaline.Your energy levels plummeted through the ground with each metre you moved away from the pitch and your feet were complaining loudly. Crowds filtered into Premier Inns and Travelodges and car parks, you amongst them with your hand tight in John’s until you were at his car, where he held the door open for you, a task you were glad to avoid at the end of a fifteen minute walk. Radio hosts gushing about the amazing match became your lullaby while you snuggled into your scarf.

Time passed like water down a slide and it wasn’t long before John squeezed your knee. “We’re here.”

Thank god you’d already dropped your bags off at the hotel earlier. Eyes were drooping as John led you into the elevator of your hotel for the night, him letting you attach yourself to his side like a limpet while he yet again opened your door.

“Thank you,” You mumbled hoarsely, dropping onto the side of the bed you designated your own.

John caught you by the arm just before you could curl up on the bed, using it to lift and seat you, “Oh, you don’t.”

“I want to,” you whined.

A minor success was barely celebrated as John released you, only to capture your left foot and remove your shoe. It was a pair you regretted wearing and the source of that regret was revealed to John as he peeled off your sock to reveal a blister, formed from all your jubilation during the match. You winced, tempted to yank your sweaty foot from his loose grip.

“Behave,” John said as he checked the blister, your ankle trapped in his curved grip. His voice had been teasing you, just a light-hearted reproach at your attempted resistance, keeping you in a good mood, but you felt your chest full with flustered feelings that you should store away when you were more capable of dealing with it.

From his overnight bag, that you hadn’t seen him collect, he withdrew an antiseptic wipe and a small plaster, one that fit perfectly over your wound.

“You always carry plasters around?” You asked sheepishly.

“Never know when you need an emergency plaster,” John replied, smoothing it over before swapping to your other foot, “Crisis averted.”

A far-away internal dialogue reminded you that you shouldn’t find your customer picking a bit of sock fluff out of your open blister attractive. You failed to hear it over the blood flooding beneath your cheeks whilst he unwound the scarf from your neck.

“I guess it’s that cool-under-pressure quick-thinking and ready-for-anything attitude that got you poached at that match.”

“Among other things.” And John took your paired shoes over to the door.

You could appreciate that John was trying to connect with you whilst keeping sturdy those walls of his. But he couldn’t help it. His personality was a reflection of his ideology, therefore his job. He was telling you more than he wanted, and you were craving a little more each time.

From the bed, you watched him hang up his coat and beanie beside your scarf, his hair sticking up at the back on ends. An idea struck you like a slap and woke you up a little.

Knelt onto the bed, you beckoned him over as he finished removing his boots. As he sauntered over to you, he began smiling. It only grew as you drew him in to wrap your arms around his neck. His hands, guided by your incentive, found themselves behind your back.

“Thank you for today,” You whispered into the space between you.

“Of course.” There. You caught him, shamelessly looking at your lips. You took the plunge and leant in. At the final split second, John did too.

The second his lips touched yours, it stole any thoughts from your mind, as if the volume of the city was turned down. A slight tickle from his moustache, not bristly but smooth and trimmed, that was not the main reason behind your smile. It was how his paw of a hand hugged under your jaw, turning your head so that he could slot your body up against his and still slip his charming tongue into your mouth.

He pulled away first. You always let them pull away first. Rarely did you feel like you had to leave it, and this was one of those kisses you wouldn’t have minded continuing. By the rosiness on his cheeks and how loudly you could hear him taking controlled breaths, you hypothesised that he felt the same. Yet again, his gentleman-like nature getting in the way of what he wanted. Never mind, there was always more chances you could create next time to get him more into his comfort zone.

“Just wanted a goodnight kiss,” You said as you released him with an innocent smile.

John raised an eyebrow, though his lips were still smirking at you, “Oh yeah?”

“Mm-hmm.” And you bounced off the bed to get changed into your pyjamas, leaving the bathroom door open.

Your skin prickled with goosebumps each time it felt him stealing glances at you. Therefore it felt only necessary that you take a peek too. The two seconds leaning over to the ajar door confirmed what you’d felt during your nights together: a firm body that slightly softened the touch of his muscles yet without masking the power beneath it. A few scars, a trim waist and the blur of a tattoo were on show before his sleep shirt was yanked over his body. That was when you retreated back to brush your teeth and splash cold water on your face.

Even as you tucked yourself into bed, John was still pottering around. You were already halfway off to dreamland by the time he slid beneath the covers on his side. Maybe that was why you asked:

“One more?” Cherry on top, you pouted with your eyes closed up at him like you were Sleeping Beauty. A gentle chuckle and a peck upon your lips was well received and you were greeted by the lights switched off and John looking younger as he rested his head on his pillow but close to you.

“Goodnight,” He said with a sigh.

You wriggled a bit deeper into the bedclothes, smothering the butterflies in your stomach until the fluttering stopped. “Sleep well, John.”

[loveysloveclub]

THE MAN! UMICH AU chapter v. game day

in which, molly's first hockey game goes worse than expected.

molly wasn't usually nervous for hockey games. in fact, she looked forward to having fun on the ice. but that was back home, with the boys she grew up alongside and not halfway across the world with a bunch of boys who had made it clear that they wanted nothing to do with her.

despite her anxiety, molly did a good job as shoving it all in. after all, there was a high possibility that her coach would decide not to play her. majority of the freshmen wouldn't be on the ice tonight.

entering the children of yost arena, molly was taken aback but the sheer amount of people that bustled around her. college kids were taking photos in their university of michigan merch, parents were here to support their children with their numbers on their backs and little kids carried signs around, hoping to get a puck.

sure, there was always a small crowd back home when she played. but the energy in the arena was electric.

"you good, maxxy?" the girl spun on her heel to find her new friend, dylan duke. he watched the girls big eyes with a humorous expression. "i've never seen so many people in the same place to watch a hockey game."

"ah," dylan breathed out, "so young, so naive."

molly couldn't even get out a word of retaliation before he was skipping off down the hallway in search of his locker room, where him and the rest of the boys on the team would be getting ready for the very first game of the season.

the blonde decided, that in order to not be late, she would have to do the same.

walking down the corridors of the arena she had become familiar with, molly couldn't help but look at her new life under a different light.

sure, college wasn't exactly living up to her expectations and she didn't have many friends, but it seemed that the girl had forgotten what she was here to do under all the stress of trying to fit in.

with a new sense of excitement, the girl skipped passed down the hallway, only to halt in her steps at the sound of a few of her fellow teammates. more specifically, her captain that had made is abundantly clear that she did not belong on his team.

"i told you, bro. coach benched her this game, which means she's mediocre, at best, and she's only here to get us some publicity before she's shipped off to wherever she came from."

and just like that, all the excitement was slapped right out of her body and was replaced by an oncoming wave of doubts. sure, she knew she would most likely be benched, but harry's repeated words of publicity stunt and mediocrity brought an onslaught of new self consciousness molly had never possessed before.

harry was right about something though, molly was benched the entire game. she expected this. freshmen almost never play the first game of the season. she just hoped that she would get some game time in the next up and coming weeks.

after the game, molly stood up against a wall of the centre, texting her friends from back home about what harry had said before the game. she watched as her teammates all celebrated with their families, all going out for dinners together. she frowned at the sight. not only was her mother on the other side of the world, but she wasn't very supportive of her moving all the way to america to pursue a dream she said "was never going to work out."

and don't even get molly started on her deadbeat dad that left her when she was five.

"oh my goodness, you must be molly!" glancing up from her phone, molly was bombarded by a hug by an older blonde lady, whose smile was contagious as molly's face broke out into a huge grin. "i'm ellen, luke's mom!"

glancing around ellen, molly caught sight of luke hughes, with his head in his hands. molly almost laughed at the boy's clear embarrassment of what his mother was doing.

"it's nice to meet you."

"you did so well tonight!" ellen complimented the girl. "i sat on the bench all night?" molly's eyebrows furrowed in confusion, but ellen merely shook her head. "but you looked so pretty."

molly laughed shyly, red covering her cheeks at the compliment.

"why don't you join us for dinner?" ellen asked, gesturing behind her to luke and an older man which molly assumed was her husband.

"no, that's okay. i don't want to intrude." molly appreciated the invitation. but her and luke weren't necessarily friends, and she didn't want to impose on his quality time with his parents.

"luckily i'm not taking no for an answer." and with that, ellen was dragging molly to her car which they would ride in to the restaurant, meeting luke and jim there.

next chapter previous chapter

[wosowrites]

Back With Her (Jordan Nobbs x Reader)

warnings: none

a/n: based off this request:

prompt: fluff with jordan as your happy shes on the roster for camp.

When it was announced that Jordan would be playing one last game with Arsenal, you felt your heart drop. The whole training session was off and silent. You all went home after, even though you usually do something together after practice. Jordan had been off the past couple weeks. You weren’t kissing as much, or going on dates. She was just�� not Jordan. Arsenal wasn’t Arsenal without Jordan, and Jordan wasn’t Jordan without Arsenal.

You went home that day numb. Jordan was visiting Aston Villa’s stadium and coaches, getting to know them a little. Or so that’s what Jonas told you girls.

You drove home, the car quiet, missing Jordans bad post training kareoke. The seat beside yours was empty, missing your girlfriends presence. As you got onto the hallway, the water works turned on. You started violently sobbing, feeling sick to your stomach the whole drive. You were trying to concentrate on the road, knowing that your tears were dangerous as they blurred your eyesight. You pulled over once you got off the highway and turned your engine off. You probably sat in your car for forty five minutes, sobbing, crying and just being an all around mess.

What broke you out of your tears was Jordan’s name on your screen, your phone was connected to the bluetooth and her ringtone rang throughout the car. You quickly answered, trying to make it seem as though you weren’t crying. "Baby?" Jordan’s voice said. "Hey," you said, your voice breaking immediately. "Y/n… im sorry. I couldn’t tell you." Jordan said, her own voice shaking. "Come home, Jords. Please," you cried into the phone. "I’ll be there in an hour. I love you. This won’t change anything."

That night, when Jordan got home, you held her as she cried, and then she did the same for you. It was the worst night of your life.

Then came Jordans last game for Arsenal. Leah held her as she cried knowing fans would notice, but not caring. Jordan and Leah had always been best friends. You? You had Katie hugging you in the tunnel for a solid twenty minutes after the game. You felt as though you were loosing your girlfriend.

Once Jordan started training with Villa, she had no choice but too move out of your shared apartment. Your apartment was too far from the training centre for Jordan.

You came to your own training sessions everyday with puffy and red eyes. Your team held you when you needed it, and left you alone when you needed that. They were all there for you.

"Im loosing her," you told Katie one morning. It was an early training session, you were tired, and sad, and scared. All up in your feels, you had broken down crying an hour into the training. "You’re not loosing her. You talk to her every day, you will not break up. Do you hear me?" Katie had said.

Jonas would have been annoyed with you if it wasn’t for the fact that instead of your pain making you distracted, it fuelled you. In the five games since Jordan left, you had scored seven goals and had three assists. You were also more irritable, having picked up threw yellow cards in those games, but Arsenal was used to getting booked.

International break was coming up, and you were scared that Jordan wouldn’t make the cut. You needed to see her, spend a night with her, train with her again. You had seen her almost every day since she had left, but it wasn’t the same. For seven years, you spent every hour with her. There was no moment where you had to say goodbye. And that change was getting the better of the both of you.

The roster for the international break came out for the players at 3:00, which happened to be the same time your training ended. When you saw the list, you screamed out of joy. "Why are you so happy? You’re always on that roster." Manu asked you. "I don’t care about me! Jordans on the roster!" You yelled, jumping into Leah’s arms. That night, you and Jordan went on your first date in a long time, but the meal was nothing compared to what went down at her apartment.

You arrived at training with the rest of the british arsenal girls. You were one of the firsts to arrive, having coming earlier because Leah needed to, and you wanted to come up together. You cheeked the room list, having been marked down for room 129 with Lucy. You felt relief at being paired with Lucy. Although you loved all your teammates, she was easy to room with. She was fun but could be calm, clean but not annoying when you left things around, and was always a good listener.

You unpacked your bag, knowing Lucy would want the window bed, and knowing she would be one of the later arrivals due to where she was flying in from.

You went down for supper at 6:20, having fallen asleep and cursing yourself for probably missing Jordan’s arrival. You hurried down the hallway and into the elevator towards the floor where the dining hall was. The girls were all already settled in. You spotted Jordan quickly. She was sitting with Leah, Lucy, Keira and Georgia. There was a free chair between Leah and Jordan. You quickly walked over to the table, the girls spotting you. "Y/n! Hey, I was about to come get you." Lucy said.

You ignored her and wrapped your arms around Jordan who had already stood up. "Somehow I thought you wouldn’t be here. That your name on the roster was like… me being delusional." You said to her, hugging her head. "I’m here. I’m not leaving."

The girls smiled at the both of you, you pulled apart and Jordan sat back down as you went to get food. "You guys aren’t fucking on my bed." Lucy said. "Same goes to you and Keira." Jordan answered. Lucy shut up real quick after that.

The team had a movie night in the common room, the staff having set up couches, bean bags and egg chairs around the room. As always, you arrived late, causing Jordan to be late as she waited for you in your room. At least that’s what you told everybody. It was more like you were making out and lost track of time. You and Jordan ran down the halls, hand in hand, giggling like teenagers.

You found your way to the common room where a movie was being picked, and where almost all the spots were taken. "Share an egg chair with me then?" Jordan asked you, pointing to the only free spot in the whole room.

"Wouldn’t want to sit anywhere else" she winked. She sat down on the chair first and you sat down after, cuddled up in her lap. You rested your head on her shoulder as her hands wrapped around your waist and held you close, her hand slipping under your shirt and tracing patterns on your stomach.

"Im so proud of you. No ones worked harder than you, Jords." You whispered to her as all the girls focused on the classic Harry Potter movie playing. "Thank you. I couldn’t have done it without you," she said, playing with your hair now. "What do you mean?" you asked, moving your head to look at her. "You’re my drive. You’re what keeps me going," she answered.

[mahiraagarwal]

How Can You Benefit from the Best SAT Coaching and TOEFL Preparation Course?

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[touteslespetiteschosess]

Love To Hate Me || Kylian Mbappé

Chapter 2 : Try Friends?

Chapter 1

Plot: Kylian's benched and now, so is y/n. What could go wrong?

Word Count: 1378

Masterlist

"You're joking?" she scoffed, watching Enrique across his desk.

"Afraid not." he sighed, tapping the pen in his hand on the desk a few times, "Send your best team to Japan with us but you're not coming."

She sat up a little straighter in her chair, "Luis, I'll be able to effectively handle the team's image from Japan- where they are- you said that yourself."

"I said that when all of the risks to our image were going to be there with us. I need you to keep a close eye on Kylian, here. Stay close to him, maybe get to know him a bit, that way you'll be able to predict his next moves. I know you're good at that."

"The man hates me. I'll have James or Louis stay back here with him, they're just as good as me, and Kylian will actually speak to them."

"We both know you're better than your entire department combined."

"Clearly not, since I'm the one who let this entire disaster happen in the first place," she grumbled.

"You know I didn't bring you here for your good looks." Luis joked, walking around the desk to her side, as she stood up, a frown marring her face, "I know what you're capable of, this team doesn't. Show them the y/n I know. You show Kylian who's boss."

Folding her arms over her chest, she allowed him to guide her out of his office. "I was looking forward to a holiday."

He stopped in his doorway, as she carried on back to her own office a few corridors away, "Tell that to Kylian!" he called and she smirked to herself.

A day had elapsed since her meeting with Enrique and y/n sat in her office, typing rapidly on her laptop. The entire training centre was quiet since about 80 per cent of the staff had jetted off to Japan that afternoon.

Just her luck that her first holiday of the year would get cancelled just so she could hang back and work. Not that the trip would have been a holiday anyway, she would've been working, but she was supposed to have a few hours to explore Japan or maybe just lie in her hotel room in the dark for a while. That would be nice.

No, here she sat, alone in her office, not having said a word since she greeted the receptionists this morning. Her fingers had a mind of their own, flying over the keyboard before she even had to consider what she was typing.

Her stomach rumbled. Loud.

She hit send on another email and went to open one more when her stomach sounded again. Maybe a yoghurt wouldn't sustain her all day.

Hesitantly, she flicked her laptop shut and headed for the door before stopping in her tracks. She stopped and turned back for her laptop- she really didn't have time to spare eating lunch, so multitasking it was.

Quickly, she headed down to the canteen and got herself a bowl of chicken and rice as well as an apple. She sat alone- it wasn't like she particularly wanted to sit with anyone in there anyway. There were maybe ten people max in the hall. A few of the coaches, who were fairly low down in the ranks, so were subject to coaching Enrique's rejects- the loft. Said players were also scattered around the room, laughing in small groups together, not a care in the world.

She opened her laptop again and got back to work, starting to draft an email in response to l'Equipe, stating their reasons for excluding Mbappé from the Japan squad.

Here at Paris Saint-Germain, we are not only a team, but a family. We appreciate Kylian's incredible talent but we cannot condone-

"I hate this."

His voice made her head snap up and her face fell. He sat across the table from her- she wasn't sure when he'd got there. She scoffed, sarcasm dripping off her tongue, "Sure, you can sit here."

A scowl was painted on his face, his arms folded over his chest like a toddler throwing a hissy fit. "I hate this place and this stupid team. I shouldn't be training with them."

"What, you think you're too good for them?" she asked, bored, not glancing up from her laptop.

"Yes!" he exclaimed.

"Nobody likes a huge ego," she murmured.

"Well, thanks to you, nobody likes me right now anyway."

She looked up, meeting his eyes, "Thanks to you, really, I'd say."

He seethed, watching her through narrowed eyes, lips pursed, "I want out. I want to go back to my team."

"Well, I'm not the person to speak to about getting a contract drawn up but-"

"Not like that. You can't make me train with this new team. You can't bench me. I'm-"

"Kylian Mbappé?" she finished for him, "I know. You've said." Uninterested, she shifted her gaze back down to her laptop, declaring, "Maybe you should try being nice to them. Get to know them."

"Why would I do that?"

"Because whether you like it or not, your old teammates are in Japan and you're here. Until further notice, it will remain that way." she glanced across at the group of men, chatting and laughing as they ate their lunch, "That's your team now."

He was quiet for a moment- a miracle, she thought! Then, he reached across the table and snatched her apple, taking a large bite, "You're right." he said, through his mouthful of fruit.

"My apple!"

"You want it back?" he asked, holding the half-demolished thing toward her.

She grimaced, "You owe me an apple."

Standing up, he hummed, "Oops."

She blinked up at him, fluttering her lashes in a way that she had to know did something to him, "Goodbye." she said, in a clearly fake, sweet tone.

"So eager to get rid of me?" he mused, an infuriating smirk on his face.

"I've got work to do. No thanks to you."

"I'm on my best behaviour now, promise." he declared, strolling off.

She frowned at his retreating figure- conceited prick. Glancing back down at her laptop, she typed a few words and then stopped. Blankly, she watched the screen for a few moments, as a small smile crept onto her face.

Sure, he was still a dick, but maybe he'd quiet down now. He'd settle with the loft for now, two armies of lawyers would get to work behind the same, and maybe, just maybe, she'd finally catch a break from the two-week-long headache that had been plaguing her incessantly.

Y/n sat on her sofa, some Netflix show playing on the TV, though she hadn't heard a word. Finally, she'd replied to all her emails and drafted all the responses she needed to- for today at least.

Her phone buzzed and she scrambled in search of the device, before eventually fishing it out from down the back of the couch. She checked the notification: her best friend had sent her some reel on Instagram. She watched it, it was something stupid, which she responded to wth a simple double tap.

Almost instinctually, she navigated to her home feed and opened the first story to pop up. Her heart fell.

For at least a minute, she glared at her phone, as if she could stare so hard it'd turn him to stone on the other side of the city. God, how she wished it would.

Maybe Kylian Mbappé had much more going on in his life and didn't think about her as much as she thought about him. It was her job, of course, that was the only reason. Nevertheless, this felt like a personal attack, and she was more than ready to fight back.

She was not a loser and she wasn't a quitter.

He'd almost gotten off lightly, then he'd pulled this shit? He'd fooled her for a few hours and made her pay for it. Big mistake. He didn't know what was coming.

Sharply, she tossed her phone straight back onto the couch, with so much force it bounced back toward her. As she scowled at the plain walls of her apartment, she let out a loud yell. Who cared if her neighbours thought she was delusional?

"Fuck you!"

Chapter 3 Masterlist

[akutasoda]

'lift your arm higher, you're not shooting baby birds are you?' she paused momentarily before adding 'you better not be' you glanced over toward the now giggling light haired foxian, giving her a slight deadpan expression before moving your focus back onto the targets in front of you. various targets were placed in varying distances away from you and baiheng had tested you to shoot everyone atleast once. it was really your idea to begin with, baiheng asked you if you'd like to join her while she practiced herself and after watching her for a while you had the itch to try yourself.

baiheng was more than happy to teach you, she handed over her recurve bow and told you to wait while she adjusted the targets. 'pull the finger tab far enough so that the bowstring reaches between your shoulder and chin' you did as she instructed, 'great! now use the sight and align it with the middle of your target'. your eyes slightly narrowed as you focused on the middle of the target and before your nerves got the best of you, you fited the arrow.

it whistled through the air and pierced the closest target right through the middle, your eye's widened in surprise before looking over to baiheng whose smile matched your own. 'youre a natural! even i wasn't this good on my first try' she beamed and you retorted with a sly 'well i am being taught by the best of the best'

'you'll have to introduce me to them sometime then' she grinned with a slight hint of mischief in her eyes 'i don't know, they can be quite annoying sometimes' you looked away and shrugged your shoulders before glancibg out the corner of your eye to watch as her ear twitched slightly before she commented 'haha very funny, now show me you can hit those targets'.

yet again baiheng coached you through how to handle the bow properly and aligning it with your desired target. again with her help, you effortlessly managed to pierce the target clean through the middle and baiheng cheered you on as you took another arrow out the quiver and shot the next target. 'who knew you'd be so good huh?' you smiled back at her before she came and took her recurve bow out of your hand.

you gave her the quiver and she took three arrows out before handing it back to you. you looked at her slightly confused and she smiled 'some say that i once loosed three arrows at once in a dire situation, maybe you can eventually too'. right as she finished her sentence she pulled the bowstring back with three arrows and in no time released them all - simultaneously they all hit the furthest targets dead centre. baiheng looked back over and the sight of your awestruck face made her tail wag slightly, before you could notice she slung the recurve bow over her back before suggesting 'i heard that one of your favourite stalls is back up, how about i treat you?'

as ironic as it was fitting, it felt like baiheng had pierced your heart with an arrow just like cupid would. the only issue is that the arrow has to be plucked away eventually, leaving a gaping hole in it's place.

a/n: this was a drabble that's been sat in my drafts for a while, unsure whether i should continue this into a full length fic or not... would anyone be interested? plan on writing for baiheng more though i love her soo

[lucy90712]

Carlos Alcaraz- Winning Wimbledon

The last two weeks have been leading up to this moment so you think I'd be ready for it but I'm definitely not. Most people will never see their partner compete in a tennis grand slam let alone reach the final which is why I'm so incredibly nervous as I'm just not used to it. Carlos has of course won many tournaments including the us open but I wasn't there for that so this is my first time watching him in a grand slam final. I'm so glad I'm here though as it's been amazing watching him adapt to the grass so quickly and play some of the best tennis I've seen from him plus it's always nice to be there to celebrate each victory with him.

All morning I've been so incredibly nervous I've barely been able to eat as the nerves have made me feel so sick meanwhile Carlos is as calm as anything and has just been going through his usual pre match preparation. I don't know how he can be so relaxed when there is so much at stake but all day he has been happily smiling and talking to people he meets as we walk around which is just insane to me but at this point I don't think he's human. He could just be putting on an act but I know Carlos well enough by now to know exactly how he's feeling and I can tell he quite calm. Honestly I think I'm nervous enough for the both of us which is probably why he's fine as I'm definitely not and I won't be until the match is over.

Sitting in the box in centre court didn't at all help my nerves but at least here I'm not alone as I'm surrounded my Carlos' family and coaches who are all feeling the same way as me. I was sat next to his mum and we held each others hands from the second the players walked out onto court as it was comforting to know there was someone else there watching the exact same thing. From the beginning the match was difficult to watch as Novak is definitely the favourite for the title and has been playing brilliantly recently so things were tough for Carlos. I could barely watch the actual match as it was just too much every time Carlos lost a point I could feel my heart sink so I had to find other things to look at occasionally just so I didn't die. With the amount of stress the match caused I think I'm going to end up with grey hairs sooner rather than later.

After a long and gruelling match Carlos had match point so his mother and I squeezed each others hands and I held my breath as the ball went back and forth across the court. Then out of nowhere Carlos hit a brilliant winner that gave him the match and the title. He dropped to the floor as the whole of centre court cheered and clapped including me creating the most amazing atmosphere which I don’t think I'll ever forget. I couldn't help but let out a few happy tears which quickly developed into full on happy crying as it was just so emotional actually being there to see Carlos achieve something so amazing. As everyone in the box hugged each other Carlos made his way up and his family embraced him straight away. His coaches were the next people to get to him before he came over to me and pulled me into his arms. I wanted nothing more than to kiss him and show him how proud I am but I didn't as both of us prefer to keep our relationship mostly private. Before Carlos had to go and accept the trophy he wiped the tears from my face and quickly pressed a kiss to my forehead.

Carlos accepted his trophy and then did his interview on court before being whisked away to do everything else he is supposed to after winning. It seemed that he was gone forever between interviews and press conferences and presenting the trophy out in the balcony but eventually he text me to say that he was finally free so I told him where I was so he could come and find me. I expected him to be a while but all of a sudden I had two arms wrap around me which I recognised in an instant. As I was sat in a chair that could spin Carlos sat next to me and spun my chair to face his and for the first time since he won I really got to see his smile which was much bigger than I think I've ever seen it. Neither of us said anything as I've already told Carlos how proud of him I am about a million times so I have no words left to be able to congratulate him with.

Instead of talking Carlos put his hands on my hips and moved me off my chair to sit me on his lap so he could wrap his arms around me. Now that we are finally alone Carlos' lips met mine in a searing kiss which encompassed all of the emotions we'd both been feeling all day. Carlos can never just give me one kiss so he kissed my lips a few times before peppering kisses all over my face until he was satisfied that he had covered pretty much every inch of my face. Once he stopped I thought we would just sit together for a while but I was wrong instead he picked me up over his shoulder and started to walk somewhere. I had no idea what he was doing until he finally put me down and grabbed the replica of the trophy he was given and handed it to me. As soon as it was in my hands he had his phone in his hand and was instructing me on how to pose. Having my photo taken isn't my favourite thing but I let him have his fun for a bit before I made him join me and we took a few pictures together. We probably took over 100 pictures before I finally got to look at the trophy properly which really made it sink in what had happened a few hours earlier and I couldn't stop my smile from growing.

We spent a bit more time alone together before we met up with the rest of his family and coaches to enjoy this momentous achievement all together. Carlos didn't leave my side the whole time he always had his hand linked with mine or an arm around my waist which his brothers teased him about but he still never let go of me. It isn't often that Carlos is this clingy so I soaked up every second that he was touching me because at some point we will have to be away from each other again and I won't get to enjoy the comforting feeling of having my boyfriends hands on me. The entire time we were out he was so loving and affectionate that I almost questioned if some lookalike had taken his place but it was definitely him and he was just being extra sweet which I wasn't going to complain about.

After a long night of celebrating we finally made it back to where we've been staying the last few weeks and I was absolutely ready to crash and probably sleep for the next 24 hours. I got myself ready and then got into bed to wait for Carlos who still seemed to have loads of energy but he still got into bed next to me anyway. The second he was settled he opened his arms and I got myself set in his embrace with my head resting on his chest listening to his heartbeat which was sending me to sleep.

"Thank you for being there today it means a lot" he whispered keeping me just about awake

"There's no need to thank me I'm so happy I could make it to see you win such a big match" I said

"Well you're my good luck charm every time you come to a match I win so I have to thank you for that" he laughed

"Don't be silly that was all you and I couldn't be more proud that you gave everything out there and ended up with the result you deserve" I said

"Thank you amor now get some sleep I know you didn't sleep at all last night" he said laying my head back down on his chest

"Te amo" he whispered just as I was falling asleep putting a smile on my face

[the-evil-lovable-simp]

Phantom love

Luigi x ghost reader

Part 1

You were sat on your bed, of your secret room. Unlike many of the ghosts that were here now, because of King Boo, you were one of the ghosts that were already here. You kept your bedroom a secret, so no one would intrude. Suddenly you heard a noise, you looked out your window to investigate, to then see that a pink coach had parked in front of the hotel. This is a shock to you, living people shouldn't come here. you turned yourself invisible and seeped through the floor, you immediately saw a man in red with blue overalls with a matching red hat and a princess in pink, and then you looked over to a group of three creatures you had never seen before, trying their best to sort out pink luggage. But then your attention was snapped back to the door as another walked into the room. The man had poked his head in, he was wearing the same outfit as the red guy but green. He looked a bit nervous at first.

"oh.." he said lightly.

"Oh!" he said realising there was no threat, little did he know this whole place was one big threat. He smiled then laughed and walked in more.

"Oh, yeah!" he said before a dog barged in. This surprised you even more, what the heck was going on? But before you could think about that any further, confetti exploded everywhere. You floated down to inspect what was going on. You noticed something in the corner of your eye, the green man's dog had walked up to you, it didn't bark, which surprised you until you noticed it was a ghost dog. You waved to it and it started jumping up and down, this, catching the attention of the green man.

"What is it, puppy?" He asked walking over and crouching. The dog looked back at you, making him look at you too. He looked visibly confused because, to him, nothing was there. He continued to look and you felt beating in your chest, it was pulsating through your entire body.

"Ehem, are you ready to check in!?" the man at the desk but in.

"Oh, um, yes! Thank you!" The green man said looking away from you. Then everyone's attention was on the lady at the top of the stairs, you knew her she was the owner of this hotel. You watched as the man didn't even check them in. You were brought out of your suspicions when you heard someone sneeze, and you instinctively said,

"Bless you,". This caught the attention of the six guests. The red man looked around before saying,

"Did you-a hear something?" The green one looked at the red one and said,

"Y-y-yes," He looked around, a bit spooked. The hotel owner, you know as Hellen Gravely, turned around a bit miffed off.

"I didn't hear anything, I'm sure it was nothing!" she said sternly as she turned and they all followed her, as did you. She stopped at an elevator, you watched them pile in. Then Hellen walked in and placed herself at the front, her face twisted into an evil grin, and you rushed to squeeze yourself into the elevator as well. The dog was staring at you again, and you started to feel uncomfortable. Due to this, the lights started flickering, making the green man start to quiver. The light bulbs exploded, and everyone shrieked. But then the door slowly but finally opened.

Everyone rushed out, and you slowly followed. You didn't notice everyone else stop, and continued. You went straight through the pink lady, making her gasp. Everyone looked at her.

"Heh, just got a shiver up my spine," she said awkwardly, Hellen scoffed.

"Mario, Luigi and Peech's rooms are over here," She spoke with an annoyed undertone. 'Mario, Luigi and Peach, ay?' you thought, 'that must be why their hats have those letters on them, a bit self-centred but, eh. And that must leave the woman in pink to be Peach'.

"We've prepared rooms for you Toads as well!" She continued. 'oooooh, that's what those mushroom people are' you said in your head.

"I hope you enjoy your stay! I daresay you'll remember it for the rest of your lives!" She added before laughing. You watch them disperse, before she waved them off and laughed some more. You floated down the corridor, watching them say goodbye to each other. You went into...Peach's room first and saw her unpacking a tea set. You drank out of the cup while her back was turned. You went to the wall and heard you say,

"I swear I filled that cup," you giggle and phase through the wall to see what you thought was Mario, eating pizza on his bed. You laughed and poked your head into the next wall to see Luigi getting onto his bed, which he looked way too small for, with a 'heyah' sound. You phased fully through and watched him grab his luggage with an 'ooh' he then opened it with a noise of approval. This man's mannerisms were so adorable to you. He then pulled out a book and a torch, he flashed it on and off. 'Better stay away from that thing' you thought, making a mental note.

You then watched him crawl to the top of the bed. His dog joined him as he opened his book and immediately fell asleep. You stifled a laugh but then didn't fail to notice his dog staring at you again. You went up to it and read its collar, Polterpup, you rolled your eyes. You stroked the pup, its tail started wagging. Luigi started to stir so you flew away, through the roof. You went back to your hidden room to rest, even though you didn't need it.

Guys there’s also a part 2, Tumblr has just censored it for some reason🤷

[lunar-years]

ok happy wip wednesday everyone xxx I had a burst of inspiration today and now my unnamed rjk friends with benefits fic is at 22k words which means I'm giving you an extra-long sneak peak :)

Please enjoy this little snippety snippet:

The breakdown that had been building all day finally came once he sat down in his driver’s seat and realized, promptly, that he didn’t feel capable of putting the car into gear. Beyond that, driving home felt like a herculean effort, and once he got there he wouldn’t be able to turn on the telly, because it was still set to Sky Sports from the night before, and all the pundits were going to be talking about were him. He couldn’t log on to his socials, either, because the fans were all going to be talking about him, and not in the good way, and besides that he didn’t want to look at his mobile because his dad might’ve called, or might not’ve called, and Jamie didn’t even know which one was worse one way or the other anymore. He was out now for the next three matches. That were bad enough as it was. Add in that Roy might not even talk to him now, might go back to that terrible time when he'd refused to coach Jamie directly and make Nate or Beard do it instead, and things were a rightful misery. Jamie didn’t have any idea how to make it up to him. Roy being so adamant about not mixing work with whatever else they got up to, even his best apology blowjob wasn’t likely to suffice. He wondered, too tired to feel all that desperate about it, if this was the end of all of that, too. Roy probably wouldn’t want to fuck him again after such a display, and Jamie could hardly blame him. He shouldn’t feel such grief over it, honestly. Jamie had known from the beginning the sex was temporary. Just a bit of fun. And now he’d gone and botched even that, which was probably always something that was bound to happen, given that it was him. But just as well, there it was. It had happened now, and Jamie didn’t feel resigned to it like he was supposed to, he felt…hollow. Hurt.  That was his own fucking fault, too.  It was too much to think about. More than anything, he wanted to shut off his brain for even an hour. As that weren’t an option, he settled for the next best thing—hitting the steering wheel so hard it made his hand throb and then bursting promptly into tears about it, right there in the Richmond car park.  //

He didn’t know how long he sat there pathetically crying, but eventually there was a gentle knock on the window. Keeley. Jamie blinked twice just to confirm it was really her and not a hallucination, like them people who got stuck in the desert and then imagined springs of water just because they were so desperate for it. She smiled at him kindly through the window, looking solid enough, and then tapped it again with her finger and gestured for him to roll it down.  “What are you still doing here?” he asked as soon as he’d done so, swiping at his face and trying not to be deeply embarrassed at her finding him in such a state. Usually Keeley disappeared with Rebecca immediately after their matches, off for cocktails and gossip or whatever it was the two of them got up to. He'd never expected her to show up. Now, Keeley stared at him with big, soft eyes that made Jamie want immediately to start crying again. She didn’t answer him immediately. “Oh babe,” she whispered instead, bringing a handkerchief up to his face and swiping lightly at this cheeks. “Care if I join you?” Jamie nodded, flipping the lock. Keeley walked around the boot and rematerialized in the passenger side, immediately pulling him towards her over the centre console and stroking through his hair before he could even process it was happening, like she was his guardian fairy, or whatever.  Ridiculously, Jamie’s brain chose then to remember the time she’d called his car pavlovian. Couldn’t be in here without wanting to jump his bones. Well Keels, he thought, letting out a clipped laugh that sounded more like a choke and made Keeley's grip in his hair tighten, look how far we’ve come. There was decidedly nothing sexy about him getting snot all over her Richmond windbreaker as he sobbed into her shoulder, sometimes letting out that hysterical, barked laugh. He couldn't stop. Keeley's hair was frizzy-soft today, the ends tickling his neck where her ponytail draped over him, and the edge of the console was pressing into his side unpleasantly, but he didn’t want to move, either. He didn’t want her to go away.  “I was worried about you when you didn’t answer my six messages, love,” Keeley said softly, pressing her lips against his hairline. 

[sergeifyodorov]

I'm a new jets fan and I am sooo curious about your post about the locket room being toxic. is it just a vibe or is there actually known fueds between players?

okay i am going to state that the majority of this is hearsay/gossip, but here's a few things i can state fairly confidently

evander kane (noted ex-jet and ex-shark, current oiler) was not liked in the locker room, at least by dustin byfuglien (who i will shortly refer to as "buff," a nickname of his)

buff was an F/D for the jets/thrashers, and an alternate captain for them as well as a perennial all-star. there is an actual photo of him flipping off evander, so this feud is the least alleged thing about the Jetsuation (jets situation). right before the pandemic buff was granted a leave of absence and then a contract termination -- the rumours about this are twofold; one, that his body was breaking down (he was frequently injured so there's almost certainly truth to this) and two, that he was Not Friends with blake wheeler/mark schiefele

mark schiefele was essentially a co-captain, from what i can tell (now that wheeler is a] stripped of the captaincy b] a ranger and c] not long for the nhl, i imagine they might Name him), and is known to be firstly, an evangelical Christian (no hate, but, like, if you don't work in the church and your christianity is more than two lines in your wikipedia page? harshes the vibes) and secondly, kind of an asshole.

blake wheeler was, up until the 2022-23 season, the captain of the jets. they stripped him of the C in the offseason. he was good friends/allies with schiefele. he is apparently at least a democrat though so that's cool. what's uncool is the uh

THE PATRIK LAINE SITUATION

it's 2016. the jets have sucked ass and now have the second overall pick. they pick patrik laine, a winger with a great shot and some serious star potential

laine is a favourite pretty much instantly, scoring 36 goals as an eighteen-year-old rookie and 44 the year after. he's not twenty and arguably one of the best players winnipeg has ever had. quiet, even-keel, fashionable.

there's some contract struggles in there, including a stint where he went to switzerland as an rfa, but he comes back, signs a very short contract, we move.

gets hurt in december, before he comes back from it he's traded to columbus.

a little bit later, rumours come out -- blake wheeler (also a winger) was jealous of his skill, wanted the ice-time and the glory, and mark schiefele, the best centre on the team, wanted to play only with wheeler, not laine. rumours say the two of them bullied him to his face, talked about him behind his back, and the then-coach (paul maurice iirc) just sat there and let it happen (although maurice has stated he regrets not intervening). after this, laine allegedly requests a trade

so yeah

beyond The Patrik Laine Situation there's just rumours of them not liking each other at all; on paper they should be a comfortable away playoffs team, a 3-seed or a comfy wild card, but in practice they're a wild-card team at best -- they were up there in the division for a few months last year, but seriously crashed and burned as soon as january rolls around. there are seemingly yearly soundbites of them going "well, we just don't like each other all that much," and everyone always seems to want out (although that might be winnipeg the city more than winnipeg the team.)

i will leave you with one old alleged anecdote: some reddit guy once went to a party (or a concert? maybe a restaurant or club?) where the jets were, and instead of socializing, talking to each other, they were apparently all just sitting around in silence not really lookin at each other at all

[pareidoliaonthemove]

The Harmonica

Gordon sat at his desk, admiring the newly polished sheen on his gold medal. Although, strictly speaking, gold didn’t need polishing as it doesn’t tarnish like silver or bronze (definitely a perk for first place, in Gordon’s opinion), it didn’t feel right to simply dust it off like he did knick-knacks and souvenirs. An Olympic medal demanded a measure of respect, gold more so than others.

Gently replacing the medal in its rightful place – centre eyelevel – in his display cabinet, Gordon smiled as an incongruous object surrounded by trophies, medals and ribbons caught his eye.

A child’s toy harmonica.

The Tracy brothers had had many musical instruments throughout their lives, often passed through the ranks from Scott to Alan (although Virgil often proved to be a speedbump on that progression, as his love of music and innate need to know how things worked intersected).

Gordon’s harmonicas were an exception to this rule. Gordon, and Gordon alone, played the harmonica.

The one on display was only the first of many.

At first (or indeed, second, third, fourth, fifth ...) glance a harmonica was not what someone expected to find in a swimmer’s trophy cabinet. Trophies, yes. Occasional swimming goggles, yes. But a harmonica? Not so much.

Gordon gently picked up the harmonica, gently dusting down the outside, and bringing it to his mouth. A quick scale slide up and down, and the harmonica sang out, as brassily cheerful and out of tune as the day his first swim coach had given it to him.

In hindsight, it was an ingenious solution to an unusual problem. Coach Saywell had never really been given the credit she deserved.

Gordon had been maybe all of five when Coach had given him this toy, telling him he couldn’t return to training in the pool until he could perform five up and down scale slides on one breath.

A brilliant delaying tactic, and invaluable breath control training for an impatient little boy just starting to recover from severe bronchitis and hell bent on competing in the pool.

Gordon had been ecstatic, he now had something he could do to make him better at swimming, even if he couldn’t actually swim. It was a goal he could work towards. And work he did.

His family had been less impressed.

Surprisingly, it had been Virgil who was first to crack; Scott and John desperately holding him back as Gordon ran to hide behind their parents as Virgil swore the destruction of his tormentor with all the fervour a seven-year-old could summon.

A compromise was quickly found, and Gordon was soon in possession of an actual honest-to-god grownup harmonica.

And music lessons.

Coach may have had a fine bead on how to motivate and support swimmers, but she was tone deaf when it came to musicians.

It turned out their mother had been as tortured as Virgil by the out of tune racket – she just held it better.

It was to the surprise of many that Gordon had stuck with the harmonic, although it was a distant second to swimming; but it had seen him through some of the worst times in his life.

It had been a comfort when he had been sick and unable to swim, a little piece of training he could persist with out of the water.

It has been a piece of home for the twelve months he spent underwater in the bathyscaphe.

It had been one of the few things he could do during the earlier stages of his post-hydrofoil recovery, helping him relearn to control hands, mouth, tongue and lungs.

And it had been with him some of the best times of his life. It was amazing how well people responded to someone whipping out a harmonic and blasting out a few tunes, and so much easier to carry around than a guitar, or piano, say.

Gordon smiled, and gently wiped the mouthpiece clean, before replacing the harmonic back in its place and closing the cabinet.

A quick glance at his clock, and Gordon opened a drawer in his desk, pulling out a smallish leather embossed box. Flipping it open, he pocketed his favourite harmonica, a vintage Hohner Billy Joel Signature diatonic.

He grinned heading out of his room. Johnny was down, and lurking in the lounge, with the rest of the family, and Virgil was due to start his piano practice.

Time to see if their resident vocalist and pianist remembered the old classic Piano Man.

Notes:

Growing up with serious asthma (as in, thank god for modern medicine, or I’d be dead many times over) in the late 80s, one of the favourite proscribed ‘lifestyle treatments’ was breath control. To this end, I was often given a harmonica (it encouraged deep and sustained breathing, apparently) and told to go play it out in the yard.

I had mostly forgotten this, until I recently inherited the beautiful chromatic harmonica my grandparents used to give me to play with.

And it got me thinking, swimming was also a favourite lifestyle treatment for asthmatics (it’s no coincidence so many Olympic swimmers are also life-long asthmatics), so it didn’t seem to be a far stretch to put a harmonic in Gordon’s hands.

I never learned to make anything other than an ungodly racket (I’ve tried online tutorials, but they just don’t work for me), so Gordon got the music I’ve sometimes wished for.

The standard disclaimers, I do not own Thunderbirds, either the Original Series, the Movies (both Supermarionation and Live Action), or the Thunderbirds Are Go Series. (Although I do own copies on DVD.)

I do not do this for money, but for my own (in)sanity and entertainment.

[struggle-but-its-all-ocean-floor]

I'm kind of nostalgic for the classic 'positions' in kpop as more and more groups stop having them. I know that's a bit weird bc it creates unnecessary rankings within the group and tension among fans but I've always thought it was something fun and interesting, particularly in speculations before debut. (Also the tension is still there among fans regardless.) For some groups it doesn't make sense to have positions - new jeans are all seemingly interchangeable and similarly-skilled vocalists, and their songs have easy dances and no 'rap'. Then some groups don't have them and people call them all all-rounders, even though there are very few all-rounders that I can think of. (Han of skz is a great example and I've sat here for a minute and he's the best that comes to mind)

Idk this ask doesn't really have a point bc I understand all the cons to having set positions and I get why it's been less common recently. It's just something I liked about kpop bc you can sort of see the building blocks of a group - plus, again, it's just fun - so I don't want it to be phased out. Kind of like how I feel about a group having a leader vs. ones that don't - I think it's a cute, refreshing thing that gives me more insight into the group, and otherwise I can't really explain why I like it so much

I like positions because it makes it so much easier to remember which member is which (this is the main dancer, that is the main vocalist, that other one is the lead dancer and vocalist, etc.), and positions pretty always exist, whether they are official or not.

Like you said, fans always speculate and create their own positions based on their ranking of the members' skills. Most of the time, it's very obvious who holds the 'main', who is the centre, etc. Positions aren't necessary - in every group there are members who are on the same skill level, some groups have rotative centres, etc. - but I like to categorize things, even people, though we shouldn't be put in a box...

The leader position is hard for me to understand. I don't know what exactly the leader does or how necessary they are in a lot of cases. Idols are supervised 24/7, bossed around by managers, dance coaches, producers, the CEO - so they don't really need one of the members to tell them to practice or get dressed. Most of the groups also don't have the freedom to choose their own concepts, messages, etc., so the leader doesn't have to bring their opinions together or actually lead the group (like RM and Bang Chan do). I guess being the leader is more about taking one for the team and speaking on behalf of the group in interviews and to the company. Even that can already be a lot. But the leader position must be less important in some groups than others. I don't know, it might be the position I understand less tbh.

But, yeah, I like kpop positions. I mean, they fuel competition and might make idols feel bad... but I think the industry is built in such a way that the company openly compares the members in terms of skills, so the existence or not of official positions makes little difference to the idols. They're always asked about their role in the group regardless, and (hopefully) they all know what they're in charge of in the group.

The benefits of abolishing, or not sharing, positions is that it creates engagement as fans speculate about them. And companies are free to shift the members around more - for example, switching centres and the face of the group, or giving a different member the spotlight with each comeback.

I don't know, I don't have any deep thoughts on this! Thanks for the ask!