#i'm scrambling for some time to post between uni work

[melonimili]

i love you maya 💜

[virgoilluminati]

World Class

Chapter 5

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A/N: Hey guys I'm sorry for being MIA. Currently juggling uni, work and I've not really have any time to write anything. But hey this has been in my drafts for ages and I just thought I'd post it. I'm not sure if anyone still reads this but I thought I would post it anyways 🤷🏻‍♀️❤️

y/nmorrison

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y/nmorrison unbothered

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y/nno.1fan not her posting this as a direct response to the papz 😂

user199 absolutely iconic behaviour

user10 @user199 period 👌🏻

leahwilliamson missin you'

y/nmorrison @leahwilliamson see you soon💕

In the midst of the flight, your mind carried you into a vivid dream, immersing you in the memory of her brother Noah's final match.

As you watched from the dream's vantage point, the 87th minute had arrived, and the stadium's atmosphere was charged with anticipation. The game had been deadlocked between Man United and Chelsea, and your collective yearning for a breakthrough was almost palpable. The roars of the fans echoed through the air, creating a symphony of hope and excitement.

You heard the commentators' voices resonating around you, their words narrating the unfolding drama with a palpable intensity:

"Ladies and gentlemen, we're entering the 87th minute of this gripping encounter between Man United and Chelsea. The tension in the air is electric, and fans from both sides are on the edge of their seats, hoping for a game-changing moment."

"And here comes a substitution that could shift the dynamics of this match. Man United's coach has signaled for Morrison, the young talent who recently joined the team. He's known for his exceptional speed and technique. Could this be the turning point the Red Devils need?"

Noah was a recent addition to the Man United team, was subbed in, his presence on the field instantly injecting a renewed energy. His every move was a testament to his skill and determination. The ball found his feet, and like a conductor guiding an orchestra, he orchestrated a series of seamless passes that left the defenders scrambling. With each calculated move, Man United approached Chelsea's goal, closing in with a sense of purpose that was almost palpable.

The sequence unfolded repeatedly, a mesmerizing dance of skill and strategy that held you in rapt attention. And then, it happened. The ball was at Noah's feet, and he sprinted forward with a burst of speed that left defenders in his wake. With breathtaking precision, he launched the ball with a combination of power and finesse, sending it soaring into the top corner of the net. The stadium erupted in a euphoric roar, a crescendo of collective joy that reverberated through the air.

Amid the jubilation, the clamor of camera shutters began to punctuate the atmosphere. The paparazzi had descended upon the scene, their initial excitement palpable.

"Pictures of Noah's triumphant moment! Get the shots!"

"Look at him go! The focus, the determination—it's all there!"

As the dream continued, the atmosphere shifted, the camera clicks growing insistent, mingling with hushed, possessive whispers:

"Capture every angle!"

"That's my shot! Back off!"

"Wait, is that his sibling? Get a shot of them too!"

The once-positive commentary became a jumble of voices, each photographer vying for the perfect shot, their possessiveness growing as the scene intensified. Your dream had morphed into a cacophony of conflicting motives, reflecting the invasive nature of fame.

Amid this chaos, Noah's voice cut through, stern and protective:

"Enough! Give us some space!"

A particularly aggressive paparazzo seemed undeterred, reaching out toward you:

"Hey, pretty lady! Over here!"

In an instant, Noah was by your side, a protective arm around you as he pushed the paparazzo back:

"Back off! Leave her alone!"

The confrontation escalated, the paparazzo's voice melding with others as the scene dissolved into a clash of desires and boundaries. Noah's voice was strong and determined as he tried to carve a path through the crowd:

"Move aside! Let us through!"

But the throng of paparazzi seemed insurmountable, their intentions increasingly overwhelming.

As you and Noah attempted to leave, the paparazzi's fervor escalated. Your voice rose above the chaos:

"Get out of the way! You're blocking us!"

But they persisted, their attempts to capture the moment turning invasive.

Noah's anxiety grew palpable as he navigated the chaos:

"Y/N, they're following us! This isn't stopping!"

Panicked, you tried to calm him:

"Noah, we'll be fine. Just keep driving."

As you continued, the scene shifted with startling abruptness. A blinding light engulfed the dream, accompanied by the sound of a deafening crash. The world seemed to spin as your heart raced, the final, tragic moments playing out before you.

Awakening with a jolt, your breath was ragged, your heart aching with the intensity of your emotions. The dream had cruelly transported you back to that fateful day, replaying the overwhelming chaos, the fear, and the unbearable loss with a sadistic precision. You wiped away tears, your mind overwhelmed by memories of Noah's triumphs and the profound love they had shared. Ever since the incident with Jude, it felt like the paparazzi had become a relentless specter, haunting every aspect of your life.

It was the incident with Jude that had triggered the nightmare about your brother, dredging up the haunting memories of that fateful night when you had lost Noah forever. The trauma had lain dormant within you, buried beneath layers of grief and resilience, until the intrusion of the paparazzi had torn open old wounds.

You had always known that being the sister of a footballer came with a certain lack of privacy. From the moment your brother had entered the professional spotlight, you'd seen the media attention, the intrusive interviews, and the constant scrutiny. You had accepted it as a part of your lives, a necessary evil that came with the fame and fortune.

But what you hadn't realized was just how little privacy you would truly have. It wasn't merely the occasional paparazzi photo or interview request; it was the unending invasion, the relentless pursuit of every facet of your existence. It your the feeling of being stripped bare, your every emotion, her every move, laid bare for the world to see.

The tragic loss of your brother had brought a brief respite from the constant intrusion. It was as if, in the wake of Noah's death, the paparazzi had briefly recognized the depths of their trespasses and retreated. During that brief interlude, you had dared to hope that maybe, just maybe, you could regain some semblance of a private life..

But the bitter truth remained—you hated the paparazzi with every fiber of you being. They seemed determined to snatch away even the smallest moments of joy you could find, turning them into spectacles for the world to gawk at. It was a constant battle between your love for the sport and your loathing for the invasion of your privacy.

As soon as you made your way back to camp, the match against Nigeria awaited you. Sarina had already warned that by going to see your boyfriend during camp, the likelihood of starting or playing given the lack of training was slim. You loved football but you loved Jude more and it was important you could be there for him. Besides the England women's lineup was secure and everyone felt ready for the Nigerian side. Or so you thought.

Nigeria vs England.

The anticipation was palpable as fans from both nations gathered at the stadium, their cheers and chants creating a vibrant tapestry of sound. The atmosphere crackled with energy, a testament to the passion and pride that women's football had ignited across the globe.

As the two teams lined up on the pitch, the sun-kissed field seemed to shimmer with the promise of an unforgettable match. England, with their rich history in women's football, exuded confidence, while Nigeria, known for their flair and tenacity, were determined to make their mark on the world stage

Before the match began, you found herself on the bench, deep in conversation with Beth England. You discussed strategies, potential plays, and ways to exploit the Nigerian defense. Beth's voice was animated as she shared her insights: "Y/N, we've got to work those wings and keep them guessing. Their backline isn't as solid on the left side, so we might be able to create some openings."

You nodded, your mind focused as you absorbed Beth's words. "You're right, Beth. And they can use their speed to catch them off guard. Quick passes and overlapping runs could give us the edge."

As you continued to exchange ideas, the coach's call to get ready for the match interrupted your conversation. With a last encouraging smile, Beth patted Y/N's shoulder: "we've got this."

You returned the smile, a surge of determination coursing through her veins. "I hope so. They will give it their all."

Throughout the match, you, a substitute for this game, experienced the tension from the sidelines. You couldn't bear to watch every moment on the field, feeling the intensity and pressure rising with each near-miss by the Nigerian team. Your heart raced as you observed, your fingers tightly interlocked, your gaze shifting from the action to the scoreboard, and back again. The close calls by the Nigerian attackers had your heart leaping into your throat, and you felt a sense of helplessness not being able to impact the game directly from her position on the bench.

You found yourself almost involuntarily standing up, clenching her fists, and then sinking back down in nervous anticipation as the Nigerian forwards seemed to breach the English defense. Your support for your team was unwavering, but the sight of the Nigerian team coming so close to scoring made you nearly unable to watch. Each almost-goal left you breathless, urging your teammates on with silent cheers, hoping and praying for England to hold their ground.

Your mind raced with the desire to step onto the pitch and make a difference, yet you knew your role was to support from the sidelines. The adrenaline of the game pulsated through your veins as you sat, eagerly awaiting a chance to contribute.

You knew that the decision to risk visiting you boyfriend in Madrid had come at a cost — sacrificing the opportunity to step onto the pitch. As the match unfolded, your mind oscillated between the thrilling atmosphere of the stadium and the longing to be out there, contributing to the game you loved. The internal struggle you faced was evident, torn between the desire to support Jude and the burning passion to be a part of the on-field action.

The disappointment of not being on the pitch during such a crucial game left you crestfallen. Your eagerness to have a shot at playing, to feel the rush of adrenaline in a high-stakes match, collided with the choice she had made. The conflict within you grew more poignant with each passing moment.

As the clock wound down and the game headed into extra time, you found yourself in a whirlwind of emotions. The missed opportunities on the field mirrored the inner turmoil you experienced, a battle between personal desires and professional commitments. The adrenaline and longing for a chance to make a difference on the pitch remained, juxtaposed against the heartache of the decision you had made.

Even amid the tense silence before the looming penalty shootout, you couldn’t shake the sorrow of missing a chance to play. The price of being a spectator instead of a participant in such a crucial match was a bitter pill to swallow. The conflict between personal life and your career in that pivotal moment lingered in your thoughts, a struggle you knew you'd have to come to terms with.

In the midst of her internal conflict, your attention snapped back to the present as you heard Sarina, delving into the potential players for the upcoming shootout, considering Reece James’s departure due to a red card. The intensity heightened as the anticipation of the looming penalty shootout filled the stadium.

Caught in your thoughts, you were shaken from her reverie by Beth’s hushed whisper. “They said your name, Y/N.”

Surprised, your heart skipped a beat as you realized that despite not being on the field during the game, you might have a chance to contribute during the crucial moments of the shootout. The sudden surge of hope mingled with a flood of emotions—surprise, disbelief, and a glimmer of opportunity.

Your mind whirled as you tried to process the unexpected turn of events. Despite the sacrifices made and the emotional conflict within, the prospect of potentially stepping onto the field for the penalties reignited a spark of determination within you. With a mix of apprehension and renewed purpose, you found yourself drawn into the immediate strategy discussions, your focus shifting entirely to the coach’s plan and the team’s preparation for the decisive shootout.

Before you knew it, amidst the restless energy, Sarina made her way toward the bench. Your heart raced as the coach’s gaze fixed upon her, and a mix of anticipation and apprehension filled her being. Sarina’s eyes met yours, and a moment of intense silence passed between them. The coach’s expression held a blend of serious contemplation and a hint of reassurance.

"Your up Morrison."

lionessess & england

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england Morrisons penalty gives us hope still for our squad. England vs Nigeria 4:2 penalties.

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user1891 absolute legend. 🔥

user1002 Comes off the bench and scores an absolute beauty! 👌🏻

user5678 does this mean she may be replacing Reece James in starting lineup??!!!

The rest of the shootout felt like a blur for you, still unable to truly comprehend what had just happened. You stood at the penalty spot, ready to take the crucial shot. The crowd murmured with curiosity, wondering about the decision to bring you on for this pivotal moment.

Amidst the tension, the supportive voices of your teammates resonated:

“Show them what you’re made of, Y/N! You’ve got this!” Kelly’s voice rang out with unwavering support.

“Give it your all! We believe in you!” Bronze’s encouraging words echoed through the stadium.

“You’ve trained for this, Y/N. We’re right behind you!” Walsh’s voice joined the chorus, reflecting the team’s solidarity.

Your heartbeat pounded in your ears as you approached the penalty spot. The weight of the world seemed to rest upon your shoulders—the hopes of your team, the expectations of the fans, and your own personal journey. Yet, amid the pressure, a sense of calm overcame you. You remembered your dream, the vision of your brother, and the promise you had made to yourself.

With a deep breath, you steadied yourself. The stadium seemed to fade away as you focused solely on the ball, the goal, and the profound connection you felt with your brother, Noah.

“3”

“2”

“1”

You struck the ball, and it sailed into the net—an unstoppable shot that left the goalkeeper rooted to the spot.

The crowd erupted in cheers, their jubilation a symphony of voices from every corner of the world. You were engulfed by your teammates, their celebration a testament to the unity and spirit of the game. You raised your arms in triumph, feeling a profound connection to your brother, as if he had been with you every step of the way.

Among the cheers and celebrations, Lucy Bronze approached you with a warm smile. She placed a hand on your shoulder and leaned in to speak softly: “I knew you had it in you. That goal was pure magic. From now on, consider me your big sister on and off the pitch.”

Your eyes glistened with emotion as you looked at Bronze, your heart swelling with gratitude. You nodded, your voice filled with sincerity: “Thank you, Lucy. That means the world to me.”

The match against Nigeria ended with the opposing team emerging victorious. Your penalty would forever be etched in the annals of football history. The Women’s World Cup of 2023 had delivered more than just a match; it had offered a spectacle of skill, heart, and the power of determination. And for you, it had been a moment of closure, a fulfillment of your promise to play not just for yourself but for your late brother, Noah—a promise that had propelled you to victory on the grandest stage of all.

In the dressing room after the victory, you felt exhilarated. The team’s atmosphere was electric, filled with jubilation. You were showered with affection from all the players, sharing in the joy of your success.

“Y/N, you were incredible out there! We couldn’t have done it without you!” Millie Bright’s words resonated through the room.

You blushed, responding, “Thanks, Millie! It was a team effort!”

Millie then playfully lifted you onto her shoulders, and the rest of the team joined in, singing and dancing, their voices echoing through the room, capturing the elation of your victory.

As you celebrated, Sarina Wiegman, the coach, grinned from the corner of the room. “What a fantastic performance, ladies! We’re through to the quarter-finals, and I couldn’t be prouder.”

lucybronze

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lucybronze This one, @y/nmorrison secured us the quarter finals. Never been prouder ❤️

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leahwilliamson a goat 🔥

keirawalsch thats my girl! 💕

milliebright an absolute star 🌟

bethengland trooper ✨👌🏻

user4728: stop! The girls are all hyping y/n up!! Cryin' 🥹🥹

Exiting the buzzing dressing room, you stepped outside, seeking a moment of solitude. As you pulled out your phone, a familiar pang of longing for home washed over you. With a mix of hope and anticipation, you dialed home, hoping to catch up with your dad.

The phone rang a few times before diverting to voicemail. Disappointment flickered momentarily before a notification indicated a new voicemail.

As you listened to the message, the voice of your dad, filled with pride and joy, flooded your ears. “Hey, Y/N! I just watched the game, and you were incredible out there. Your brother would have been so proud of you. We all are. Keep doing what you’re doing, sweetheart. We’re cheering for you all the way from home. Love you.”

A rush of emotions welled up inside you. Your father’s unwavering support and acknowledgment were a reminder of the incredible network of encouragement and love you had back home. It felt as if your family was there with you, celebrating this significant moment.

[lyrebird5]

Some university tips from a first-year student currently up to her neck in assignments (please keep in mind, I am Australian, so my perspective of university might be a little bit different):

Give the 2/3/4 hour classes their own day, and try to spring for a time where you know you'll definitely be awake enough to concentrate, but not late enough that you'll be scrambling to do everything else late at night. That last bit goes for all classes, by the way.

Figure out a way to do your prep work that works best for you. At the start of this year I was in such a panic over trying to do every reading, and watch every lecture, and take all the notes. No. It doesn't help anything if you're over-stressing. You can't do everything, so just do whatever helps you most.

For the love of god, do your assignments, and try to get them in on time. It's hard - it's so, so hard - but I promise, getting your work in on time can make all the difference between a pass and a credit (again, I'm Australian, your grading system might be different. Hell, it might be different even if you yourself are Australian, I'm no expert here). My first semester was hell - I think I only got one assignment in on time, and my grades did ultimately suffer, including on a group project (more on that later). Get the assignments done on time, and life becomes just that little bit easier.

Speaking of assignments, map them out. I don't just mean map out how to write them, or do them, I mean literally map out how to approach each one, and how much time to give it. For example, I have about 6 assignments due this month alone. I currently have a map in my head of how long each assignment needs to get to be completed properly, when the next assignment needs to be started, and when they all need to be in.

Let that map evolve. If things change, so do you, do not let university kick your feet out from under you because trust me, it will gladly do so, and it'll probably take your kneecaps as it does. I personally use an app called ToDodo, as well as my phone calendar. The calendar is what I use to record what assignments are due when, ToDodo is my way of knowing what I've done, what still needs to be done, and where I'm going next. You can even add deadlines, so you can also add in assignments, and have multiple lists to keep things from getting mixed up. I use it for everything - assignments, uni prep, even my groceries and daily reminders. I have a whole list on there for who gets a Christmas present and what my budget for that present is, for crying out loud!

Be smart when you choose your classes. If you're a night person, take later classes, and use the time beforehand for work, or study, or whatever you need to do. Don't assume that you're fine just because class isn't for another few hours. Every second that you stay on top helps.

Revise, revise, revise. Your assignments will come fast, hard, and mercilessly, so take every opportunity to revise. Look over notes, create practice tests, hell, look for tests on Quizlet and Kahoot! If your class issues tests over the content, use them to keep practising. Know your shit so you can ace your exams.

Don't be scared to go for help. Campus counsellors, study groups, they're all there to support you. Talk to your tutors/professors when you have questions, or are facing problems. Get your accomodations. Get the support you need to do well.

I mentioned group assignments earlier, and I wanna go into that a little more. As I've said earlier, I really struggled with my assignments at the start of the year, and I have my own theories on why, but that's for another post. But I can't emphasise this enough: when you are on a group project, you have to help. You have to contribute and do your fair share, for the sake of yourself and your group. I know it sounds like that's just common sense, but I let my assignments fall behind, and that led to me letting my role in the group fall behind - I was submitting things at midnight the night before they needed to be in, and it didn't help anyone. I ended up taking a lower grade than the rest of the group because of this (and to be clear, I agreed to this. I took responsibility, I grew, and I've made sure that my most recent group project was one I contributed to as much as possible). So learn from my mistake: go to your group meetings, talk to your group. Do your share, so that you all get the best grade possible.

Go to events. Join clubs. Just... find friends. Even if it's only one. If you're an introvert, I'd highly recommend you find an extrovert - they're well known for adopting introverts into their friend groups, and those groups tend to also be more extroverted. I'm not ashamed to admit that I really don't have any friends at my own university - I joined a club that I don't participate in, the only friends I have are both in my hometown so I rarely see them, and I don't talk to people in my class unless I have to. Those are all my mistakes. It's scary to put yourself out there, especially if you have any form of anxiety, but you don't necessarily have to do all the work yourself - go to the events that you can. Even just being around the group is a good way to find at least one person to talk to, and if you have friends from different campuses, drag them along too, to be your safe person. Don't go throwing yourself into events that you know you won't feel safe at - don't go to pub crawls when you don't like being around drinking, or karaoke nights when you don't like performing. Go to board game nights if those are more your speed, or other low key events. Even going to mentoring sessions could help.

Get at least a good 6 and a half hours sleep. I know, I know, research says 8 is better. But you're in university. You aren't going to get that 8 hours unless you're magic, or you're further into your university career than I am, and you have a better routine. Six and a half is at least doable.

Hygiene. Tumblr and Reddit and every other social media sites in existence have created whole lists of hoe to maintain your hygiene even on the days when all you can do is lay in bed and cry. Take whatever advice works for you. Use dry shampoo if you can't wash your hair, use gum if you can't brush your teeth. Tie your hair up if you can't brush it, or hide it under a hat. Flip your clothes inside out to hide stains, use perfume and deodorant to mask any smells. Do what you can to take care of yourself, and don't feel bad when you slip, because everyone does. You're human, you can't be indestructible.

I think that's all the advice I have right now. Please keep in mind that I can only speak from my own experiences - what I've learnt, and what works for me, will not work for everyone, I can guarantee it. The best advice I can give is to just figure out what works best for you, and to do your best.

If anyone else has any tips or recommendations, please, reblog this post or comment, or share it with others. Just try to help each other.

Now, if y'all don't mind, it's almost 1 in the morning, and I need to take my own advice and get some sleep.