#world cup kickoff | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

celestie0 · 6 months

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kickoff! reader who is stalking gojos page and accidentally likes one of his oldest posts. she panics and turns off her phone, without unliking it.

kickoff!gojo who is re reading your guys instagram messages and you text him while he’s doing this. he scrambles to come up with a reason as to why he read your message instantly

kickoff! reader who tries to watch soccer games to understand what’s happening. she probably yells offsides at everything. gojo can only smile at her and offer to help her out

kickoff! gojo who takes a picture of your silhouette in front of those statues you meet up at during the sunset (without your knowledge) and makes it his lock screen. you ask him about it but he just pretends that it’s a soccer goal and the sunset behind it.

kickoff! reader who finds herself thinking of satoru way too much. will see basically anything and be reminded of him. “oh a pair of sunglasses? gojo would like those” “hm, they started selling a strawberry tea? gojo would drink that”

kickoff! gojo who loves the sims. unironically makes a sim version of him and reader. tbh he probably doesn’t even realize he’s doing it, he just starts thinking about reader and starts adding her features. thinks it’s funny to make them have “fun time”

kickoff! reader who is looking through the game pictures she takes and finds herself staring at gojo. doesn’t even realize she’s doing it until mina walks in on her. think peter parker and gwen stacy

kickoff!gojo who has a full “project m’bappe” for your future kids. starts the kids off with a soccer plush and it leads to them being absolute powerhouses in toddler leagues

kickoff! reader who used to play soccer as a kid. threw a tantrum in the middle of a game because she decided she hated it. only started to like it again because of gojo

kickoff! gojo who keeps a printed out picture of the two of you in his wallet. Suguru took it at the frat party when gojo kissed you. around you is blurry and flashing lights, in the middle of the chaos is gojos lips pressed against yours. His hand is holding your waist, you’re slightly on your tippy toes to reach him. He sometimes zones off when paying because the picture catches his eye

BABE……..WHEN I TELL YOU IM BLUSHING N SQUEALING N KICKING MY FEET SM RN…..UHHH I THINK U MIGHT HAVE TO JUST TAKE OVER WRITING THE SERIES FOR ME??? bc i went thru sm emotions reading these pls 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

ok first of all tysm for thinking of these and sending them to me???? i genuinely cannot believe youve made headcanons for my fic that’s so surreal n i will forever remember this 😭😭

BUT ALSO THESE ARE SO ACCURATE PLS and all the little details omg it means sm that youve noticed all these lil thinfs throughout the fic n their relationship n i cld cry rn 😭😭

pls excuse me for addressing each n every one of these bc im so excited by them i fear this ask will be long so i’m adding a keep reading loool

sobsosbsosbsbsossbb the headcanons ab their digital fuckups LMAOO omg reader is 100% the type to be stalking him at 3am even tho she swears shes not even THAT down bad for him n then she loses all feeling in her face when she realizes she liked a post from when he was like in high school or sumn🧍🏻‍♀️there’s no coming back from that LMFAOO but i feel like gojo wldnt even notice it bc he probs gets a lot of notifs so she’s safe this time around 😭😭 BUT YOURE ALSO SO RIGHT AB HIM REREADING MESSAGES N THEN GETTING SPOOKED WHEN HE REALIZES SHE SAW THAT HE READ IT RIGHT AWAY LMAO i feel like he’d pull something like “uhhhh i was just about to trxt you, that’s why” and she’s like “🤨 this is the fifth time that’s allegedly happened”

aww reader trying to understand soccer for him 😭 thats so cute bahah also i made another headcanon recently from another anon who mentioned gojo streaming the world cup hehe it’d be so cute if reader shows up to the frat game nights in the jersey of the team that gojo’s rooting for bc she’s just trying to be a supportive girlfriend n she gets excited watching the game but she’s actually got no clue what tf is going on 💀 but gojo adores her for it so thats ok

the lockscreeennn that’s so cute 😭 also i love the idea of reader being his muse too :”) like he doesn’t know much about photography but bc of her he’s like kinda curious about it now so he’s always taking pictures of her w his phone while she’s not looking :”) i imagine his camera roll is just a bunch of candids of her while she’s dissociating off into the distance or something 🤣 n he’s like “wow so pretty im so good at this”

OK BUT READER IS ME THINKING AB GOJO EVERYWHERE I GO LMAOO no but srs that one made heart skip a beat bc how sweeettt is that 😭 i think that is a true mark of love where u think of someone everywhere you go :”) for gojo, i imagine that anytime he sees anything scenic or colorful or something like blooms of flowers or a nice sky he thinks of how she wld probably really love to take pics of it n he gets sad she’s not there to do so

okk im down for sims boyfriend gojo 🤣 and wdym by fun time omg 😭 pls dont tell me it’s possible to make people BONK on sims. ive seen a lot of tiktoks recently about how they added gojo to stardew valley n ppl have been marrying him lmfaoo i wonder if gojo wld try to marry her in sims 💀 cant tell if thats cute or creepy PLS tbh i’d probs be like “aww babe”🧍🏻‍♀️

and YES AB THE ONE WHERE SHE STARES AT GOJO’s PICS THATS PRACTICALLY CANON, also, there was supposed to be a scene exactly like that in ch8 where mina walks in on her staring at the pics she was editing for her professor 😭😭 so ur 100% right on. i just bet he looks so handsome in those photos cuz he’s concentrated n sweaty n probs looks really determined n in his element tbf i’d be starinf at those pics too LOL

YOURE SO RIGHT HAHA he’d make sure their kids are soccer prodigies 😭😭 startin them YOUNG. reader’s like “dont u think they’ve practiced enough today…they’re supposed to go to that birthday party at noon” and he’s like “THE GRIND NEVER STOPS😤🔥” 💀💀 unironically the type of dad that wakes his kids up at 5am on summer break to take em to soccer bootcamp or sumn 😭😭 ok but he knows theyre just kids n lets them have fun haha obviously but he just has high expectations for them lmaoo

im so tender to the idea of reader having played soccer in her youuuuthh how cute wld it be if she unknowingly also had a crush on gojo back when they were kids (maybe there was some sort of co-ed game they played ONCE when their elementary schools organized it n she was like omg who’s that boy over theree n it’s just 8 y/o gojo who’s got all the 2nd grade girlies swooning even back then 🤣) but in adulthood she probably doesnt rememebr that at all haha OMGGGG I NEED TO MAKE THIS CANON BC HOW ADORABLE WOULD IT BE IF GOJO’s MOM HAD TAKEN A PICTURE OF THE GAME BACK THEN N U CAN SEE LITTLE GOJO N LITTLE READER ARE IN THE SAME PHOTO im gonna sob???? im so inspired by these rn??? anon??? can i fr hug u through the screen???

omggg ok im deceased im dead ab the PICTURE IN HIS WALLET. THAT IS SO HUSBAND CODED and adorabke asf i just might melt rn 😭 him getting distarcted while paying kakskddjhd also i can imagine him having a picture in his wallet of her in her cap n gown on n stoles n everything during graduation or something bc it reminds him of their college days :”) n when he’s playing away games during national league he’s always looking at it when he’s away from home bc he misses her

also i feel like suguru might’ve taken the photo as a polaroid 🤔 now i headcanon that kickoff reader also has a polaroid camera bc why wouldnt she lmfaoo 🤣 but just imagine the polaroid relationship wall LOL its so corny but i wld want them to make one together 😩💕

screaming. crying. feeling so inspired rn. cheesing. cheeks r hurting. love u sm anon srs if you have more i will gobble them up like a turkey. LOVE YOU <333

#I MEAN JUST HOW FUCKINF SWEET ARE MY READERS I CANT RN #😭😭😭#kickoff #asks #anon

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magicfootballstuff · 1 year

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Debut (alessia russo x reader)

Summary: You’ve dreamed of making your WSL debut for years. But when the day finally arrives, it’s not how you imagined at all. The one person who should be celebrating the big moment with you, your girlfriend Alessia, won’t even look you in the eye.

———

Today should be the best day of your life. As you stand in the tunnel at Leigh Sports Village behind Katie, about to walk onto the pitch to make your Women’s Super League debut, you should be brimming with mixed excitement and nerves.

Your debut has come as a bit of a surprise. Playing as the number two to the best goalkeeper in the world, you’ve got a couple of cup games under your belt, but you’ve not yet been given any minutes in the league. In fact, today wasn’t even supposed to be your league debut, and wouldn’t have been if Mary hadn’t fallen ill at the last minute, forcing Marc to call you up to the starting lineup with just over an hour to go before kickoff.

Maybe that’s why the excitement hasn’t kicked in yet. Maybe you haven’t yet processed that this is happening.

Or maybe it’s because you had the mother of all arguments with your girlfriend last night and that’s playing on your mind instead.

You don’t even remember how the argument started. You might have left something lying around in a place it didn’t belong, or moved something of Alessia’s, or something else completely trivial, but bickering turned into fighting which turned into yelling and crying, which eventually led to Alessia storming out of your shared flat and not returning.

You assume she slept at Ella’s. You don’t care though. If Alessia wants to be childish and run away instead of working through the bumps in your relationship like grown-ups, then that’s her problem.

You should be celebrating today with her though. Your first league game for Manchester United - she knows how hard you work in training, how many hours you spend analysing world-class keepers to improve your own positioning, how much you’ve dreamed of today. Yet she hasn’t even made eye contact with you since Marc announced the starting lineup.

She’s behind you somewhere. You can hear her laughing along with Ella. Like she doesn’t care that she hurt you last night. Like she doesn’t care that you’re about to play the most important ninety minutes of your career so far.

If that’s how she wants it to be, then fuck her. You won’t let Alessia and her childish antics ruin your big day.

“You ready?” Ona’s accented voice asks, as she rests her hands encouragingly on your shoulders from behind.

In front of you, Katie turns around and gives you a reassuring smile, then says, “You’ve got this.”

You smile your thanks to Katie and briefly cover one of Ona’s hands with your own gloved one in appreciation. It should be Alessia supporting you right now, not them, but you’re glad that at least some of your teammates understand what a big moment this is and have your back.

As you follow Katie down the tunnel and onto the pitch, the reality of the situation starts to kick in, and so do the nerves. There’s a crowd of seven thousand people here, each one watching you and expecting you to represent their club. You can’t let them down. You can’t let yourself down.

In an ideal situation, you probably would’ve made your league debut against a mid-to-low table team, a confidence builder where making a mistake or two probably wouldn’t cost you the game. As it is, playing against Chelsea, you know you’re going to be tested all game and that even the tiniest slip-up could be the crucial difference between winning and losing not just the game, but the title.

Sure enough, you get your first touch of the ball less than two minutes after kick off, a tame shot from distance that you follow with your eyes all the way to you, not testing you too much as you catch it simply against your chest, before rolling it out to Maya to start the next phase of play.

It continues much like that. The game is intense at both ends of the pitch, two title rivals battling against each other, and you’re forced into a few more saves, though none of them are particularly difficult. Even so, when you head in at halftime goalless, it’s with a sense of relief that you haven’t let the team down yet.

You remove your gloves in the dressing room to take on fluids, accepting congratulations from a few of your teammates on a solid first half with a grateful smile. But when you sit down to listen to Marc’s halftime team talk, it’s only Alessia on your mind, and you zone out slightly from his words as you watch her across the dressing room.

If Alessia feels your gaze on her, then she doesn’t acknowledge it. Maybe she really is that engrossed in what Marc has to say, maybe she’s just trying to spite you. But what remains when you return to the pitch for the second half is that the one person you want to reassure you that you’re doing a good job still won’t even make eye contact with you.

The second half kicks off with heightened intensity, just as you expected. Manchester United get the first chance, a shot from Ella that ricochets off the crossbar before Leah taps the rebound wide, but Chelsea have come out with just as much intent to assert their dominance on the game. Within just five minutes, they’ve won a corner and almost all of the red shirts on the pitch are crowded into your box to help defend your goal.

The ball is launched from the corner into the box and it’s a bit of a mad scramble. A United player tries to clear but only as far as the edge of the box, where it lands at the feet of an unmarked Chelsea player. They take their chance and fire the ball through the crowd of players towards the bottom corner of your goal.

An instinctive reflex you’ve spent your entire life preparing for kicks in and you dive to the side, just barely glancing the ball past the goalpost with the tips of your fingers out for another corner.

Frustrated with the poor defending, you get to your feet as Chelsea set up for a second corner, and bellow at your teammates, “Mark your players!”

What they do on the rest of the pitch is something you have very little control over, but the box is your domain and if you have to shout at them to get them to do the bare minimum amount of defending, so be it. You assess your area as the Chelsea player sets the ball down by the corner flag, and you spot a blue shirt unmarked near the back post.

“Alessia!” you bark at your girlfriend to get her attention. Her stunning blue eyes find yours and your gesture with your gloved hand at the unmarked Chelsea player as you yell, “Stick with your fucking player!”

Yelling at each other on the pitch isn’t a complete novelty - there’s a mutual understanding between all the Manchester United players that any harsh words said on the pitch are for the benefit of the team, and though you and Alessia haven’t actually played many games together, you both know how to leave anything that happens on the pitch behind for the sake of your relationship.

Until today, you’ve never had to do the reverse. Though shouting and swearing at Alessia during a match would be fine on any other day, when you know it’ll be completely forgotten when the final whistle blows, your demand feels a hundred times more scathing when you remember the argument you had last night that still hasn’t been resolved.

There’s the briefest of glares in Alessia’s eyes, but she’s not petty enough to risk conceding a goal just because you’ve fallen out, so she does as instructed and moves closer to the other player, positioning herself between the Chelsea player and your goal.

The ball flies in and you launch yourself in the air, fist outstretched as you try to punch it away, but it’s too high and you miss it completely. As you tumble to the grass, you see the ball soar almost in slow motion towards the previously unmarked Chelsea player. It’s Sam Kerr and you know she’s going to score, you know that your chance of a clean sheet on your league debut is going to get snatched away by the most ruthless striker in the WSL.

But then you see somebody else, a hero in red, throw herself at the ball too. Alessia has spotted the danger and she uses her height to her advantage, her head hitting the ball at the same time as Kerr’s. It’s just enough to stop the ball heading towards the goal, and though you don’t know exactly what happens next as you scramble to your feet, too many bodies trying to nudge the ball in opposite directions, a Manchester United foot eventually gets a clean enough connection to smash the ball out of the box and away from immediate danger.

And just like there are things that stay on the pitch, there are things that stay at home.

“Good job, Less,” you praise her, clapping Alessia on the back with a gloved hand.

There’s stuff that needs resolving off the pitch later, but Alessia has just kept your hopes of a clean sheet alive and more than deserves your praise for that. Her eyes soften a little as you revert back to using her nickname, before she jogs away back to her normal position in United’s forward line.

Things are far from back to normal but there’s comfort in knowing that whatever has come between you and Alessia in the last twenty four hours - and to be honest, you’re struggling to remember if it was even worth the raised voices and the frosty atmosphere between you today - you can still count on her on the pitch when you need her. You mind somewhat at ease, at least until the final whistle blows and you’re free to actually talk to your girlfriend, you’re one hundred percent focused on the task of keeping a clean sheet to help your team.

But if you’d thought the back-to-back corners earlier in the second half were a problem, nothing could have prepared you for what happens in the eightieth minute.

It’s getting desperate from both sides. Legs are tiring, challenges are flying in, cards are being shown by the referee. The football is becoming sloppier, each team fighting for that singular moment of brilliance or luck that could win them the game. As United win a corner at the other end of the field, they send almost everybody up to get on the end of it, leaving just you and a singular defender in your own half. There are so many bodies in the opposition box that from your vantage point at the edge of your own area, you don’t have a clear view of what’s going on, but you watch as Katie sends the ball flying in. Desperation sets in as the United players try to knock it into the Chelsea goal, then somebody goes down and you hear cries for a penalty, but as the referee waves the claims away, a Chelsea player manages to send the ball forward and suddenly they’re on a break.

You backpedal towards your own goal, covering the net, but a feeling of dread rises in your stomach as the Chelsea player drives the ball forward. She’s a substitute who has only been on the pitch for ten minutes, fresh legs outrunning the final United defender and now you’re the only one left between her and an inevitable goal.

One-on-one with the Chelsea striker, you have just a split second to decide what to do. If you stay on your line, the player has a choice of which corner to slot it into. If you run towards her, you risk getting chipped or dribbled around. Part of being a keeper is making decisions but right now every choice feels like it might be the wrong one that costs your team the game.

Instinct takes over and you leave your line, arms held out as you rush towards the oncoming striker and try to be as much of a distraction as possible. As you get closer, you do the only thing you can and slide in for the ball, trying to smother it with your outstretched gloves.

But this is Chelsea and the striker anticipates your move, attempting to lift the ball over your grounded body. Your defenders are rushing back to help you but they’re too late, you’re the only one who can stop an otherwise inevitable goal and as you flail almost helplessly on the ground, the ball hits your forearm and changes course.

You don’t know where the ball has gone and you don’t get the chance to find out because the momentum of the Chelsea striker sends her clattering into you, a knee connecting with your ribs and she trips over you and falls to the floor too.

Suddenly, you’re overcome with pain. You know you should be more concerned with where the ball has gone - it’s your sole duty to stop it from hitting the back of the net and it could have gone anywhere off your arm - but there’s an excruciating pain in the side of your chest where you collided with your opponent.

You can’t do anything except lie there on the grass, curled onto the side that isn’t splitting in half with pain. You’re not aware of much around you, just unintelligible voices and somebody rolling you onto your back. Everything is swimming, indistinct sounds and shapes, until one piece of familiarity cuts through the blur as a hand finds yours.

You let your eyes flicker open and there are three people crouching over you, but you only have eyes for the one dressed in red, Alessia frowning down at you in concern as she clutches your hand and brings you back to your surroundings.

“Hurts,” you manage to grunt out.

“Shh, it’s okay baby,” Alessia soothes you, squeezing your hand. “I’ve got you.”

“Where does it hurt?” asks one of the physios kneeling beside you.

“Here,” you say, attempting to gesture to the side of your chest, but even that small action incites a sharp pang of pain.

The two physios start their examination of you, probing gently around the painful area, and as you become more aware of your surroundings, you remember that you’re lying in the middle of a football pitch, with twenty-one other players, a referee, and a crowd of several thousand waiting for you to get up so that the game can resume.

“Did they score?” you ask Alessia.

“No,” she tells you, shaking her head with a little smile. “You stopped it from happening. You did so good.”

“I can carry on,” you try to tell the physios. “There’s only ten minutes left. I can finish the game.”

Just as you say that, the latex glove covered fingers of the physio traces along your ribcage, and you wince as it grazes over a sore spot.

“She needs to come off,” the physio tells Alessia, before beckoning over to the bench. You see the medics start to enter the pitch with a stretcher and immediately start your protests.

“No, I’m fine,” you say, trying to push yourself up into a seated position, but there’s another stab of pain in your side and you collapse back into the grass, crushing Alessia’s hand in yours.

“You’re not fine,” Alessia tells you. “They’re right, you need to go off.”

“But…” you start, thinking of Mary, who was sent home to get better, and of the academy goalkeeper who will have to come on if you get subbed off with even less preparation than you had.

“But nothing,” Alessia interjects. “You’ve done your job. You’ve kept us in this game for eighty minutes. Trust us to take care of the rest. We’re a team, aren’t we?”

There’s a look in Alessia’s eyes, a searching glint, and you know that she’s not just talking about Manchester United and the rest of this game, but your relationship. She’s asking you to trust her, promising that she’s got your back, even if it might have seemed like she didn’t have it earlier.

And because you love her, despite all the profanities that were yelled at each other last night, you believe her.

“Yeah,” you nod, as you allow the medics to help you onto the stretcher. “We’re a team.”

———

You’re sitting up in a hospital bed a couple of hours later, eating a yoghurt that one of the nurses brought for you, when there’s a soft knock on the door.

It’s Alessia, still dressed in her Manchester United training kit that she must have changed into after the game, and you nod to show her that she’s welcome to come in.

“Hi baby,” she says, still lingering in the doorway, with a softness to her voice like you didn’t fight last night, like you haven’t spent the whole day not talking to each other. “How are you?”

“I’ve been better,” you admit, finishing the last spoonful of yoghurt and setting aside the now empty pot. “Two fractured ribs. No football for a few weeks, maybe longer, depending on how it heals.”

“I guess you’re gonna need someone to look after you at home,” Alessia jokes.

There’s still something not quite right, a wedge of awkwardness between you, and you know it’s time to settle the disagreement that has made the last twenty four hours pure hell instead of the league debut you’d always dreamed of.

“Does that mean you’re coming home again?” you ask.

Alessia laughs as if the question is ridiculous.

“Of course I’m coming home.”

“Because I’m injured and you feel sorry for me, or because you actually want to?” you can’t help but have a little jab.

“I want to,” Alessia says, fully stepping into the room and taking a seat in the chair beside your bed. She reaches for your hand and you let her toy with your fingers as she continues, “I hate how we left things last night.”

“How you left things,” you remind her. “You’re the one who left.”

“And I’m sorry for that,” Alessia apologises, and you can see the sincerity in her blue eyes. “I needed some space so I ran away, which was stupid and childish of me. And I was still fuming this morning so I decided it was best to leave it and talk after the match, but then you got called into the lineup and we still hadn’t fixed things and then you were just lying there injured and barely moving and I’ve never felt so helpless. If I could take away all the pain you’ve felt in the last twenty four hours, I’d do it in a heartbeat.”

You know that Alessia’s not just talking about the physical pain of your injury, but the hurt that she caused you in your fight and its aftermath too.

If you’re being fair, you probably hurt her too. You both said things that you wouldn’t normally say in last night’s argument.

“I’m sorry too,” you say, flipping your hand palm up and letting Alessia slide her fingers in between your own. “I think we both got caught in the heat of the moment. What were we even fighting about?”

Alessia laughs as she exhales, then says, “I don’t even remember. Something stupid. Something not worth me running away. I don’t want to fight with you again.”

“Look, we’re gonna fight,” you point out. “That’s part of being in a relationship. It’s not going to be easy all the time. But we can definitely be better at communicating.”

“I know,” Alessia nods. “That’s on me. I’ll try to work on it.”

“It’s on both of us,” you reassure her. “But thank you.”

A third person enters the room and you glance up to see one of the nurses who has been looking after you, middle-aged with a kind smile and a lilting Scottish accent.

“You must be the girlfriend,” says the nurse, addressing Alessia as she takes a piece of paper out of the file she brought with her into the room and jots something down.

“That’s right.”

“Then I’ll tell you the same thing I told her,” the nurse continues, her tone motherly but with just a hint of sternness. “She needs to take it easy while her ribs heal. No physical activity.” She gives Alessia a pointed look, then adds, “Of any kind.”

Alessia’s cheeks flush slightly at the implication, but she nods and says, “I understand.”

“Make up sex is off the cards then,” you joke under your breath.

You’re clearly not quiet enough because it’s not just Alessia who hears you, but the nurse too, who sends you a look of warning that has you sinking back into your pillows in shame.

“I’ve had enough athletes come through these doors to know exactly what you lot are like. I know you hate sitting still but you need to heal.”

“I’ll make sure she behaves,” Alessia promises the nurse. She turns to you, then adds, “Anyway, the better you follow the nurse’s instructions, the sooner you’ll be back playing football.”

“Exactly,” the nurse agrees.

“Did she tell you that she kept a clean sheet today?” Alessia asks the nurse, a hint of pride in her voice.

“She did, aye. Almost makes a couple of fractured ribs worth it, doesn’t it?”

“Well, Alessia scored the winning goal, so she’s the real hero of the day,” you shrug modestly.

One of the first things you did while waiting to have your ribs x-rayed was to check the score to see how the last ten minutes of the game panned out. Your main concern, of course, had been the clean sheet that you put your body on the line to preserve, and you were relieved to see that the academy keeper who took your place didn’t let any goals past her either. But you’d almost given up hope that United would score, which made it a delightful surprise that of all people, Alessia was the one to slot a winning goal into the Chelsea net in the eighty-seventh minute.

“It sounds like you can both share the credit today,” the nurse says diplomatically, as she clears away your empty yoghurt pot. “A good partnership in more ways than one.”

You look at your hand joined with Alessia’s, then up at the adoring look in her blue eyes.

“Yeah,” you agree. “The best.”

#alessia russo x reader #alessia russo imagine #woso x reader #woso imagine #established relationship

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aspiring-writer-hidden-voice · 7 months

Text

I JUST HAD A BIG IDEA!!!!!!

🧨

You watch proudly as your daughter walks across the graduation stage of UA, tears threatening to spill down your cheeks as she turns and flashes you her biggest and brightest smile. “Katsuki, look at her! Look at our little girl!”

When no answer came, your head tilts towards your husband’s direction and find him gone.

“Oh, no…”

Sure enough, the proud father and Pro Hero Dynamight himself launches himself from the crowd to stand upon the stage in front of his daughter. Once a baby girl with honey hued curls and tiny eyes that were clearly yours was now a young woman ready to take in the world by following in her father’s footsteps as she stands before him, a proud smirk on her lips as her poppy red gaze meets his ruby one.

“Hah. Look at you, ya little firecracker.” Katsuki smirks back, one of his gloved hands rising to tousle her blonde tresses much to her chagrin. No one else could tell but you clearly can see the fatherly pride within his eyes that soften ever so slightly. “You’re gonna take the damn world by storm, Mirai.”

Even now you had to give him credit for the name. “Mirai”, or “future”, had been his one and only pick once he had held his daughter for the first time. A befitting name that suited her well even now.

“Stop treating me like a little kid and hand over the agency to me already, you old fart!” Mirai toothily grins as she holds out her fist for a bump.

“In your damn dreams, firecracker!” He huffs, brows twitching as his fist rises and bumps hers.

One of your hands rises to cup around your mouth as you shout. “Get off the stage, you two! Let the rest have their moment in the spotlight!” A blinding smile raises your lips when they both respond with full faces blushes.

It’s only at the party after the ceremony do you catch the two sharing a rare, deeply emotional moment as Katsuki gently rocks her being left and right as she clings to him. You slip into the quiet room after a few minutes to give them ample time and you slowly enclose them both in your embrace. The flight that would take Mirai to Europe for her Pro Hero career kickoff was first thing in the morning and it was clear that your daughter had her brief moments of uncertainty just like her father.

“Sweetheart, why don’t you share with your dad what hero name you picked out? I think he’s waited long enough.” You gently whisper while helping to clean her face and his though he grumbled that it wasn’t necessary.

Mirai’s teary gaze rises to meet his. “It’s not near as long as yours but…I took a page from your book…”

Katsuki had never looked so proud and happy to hear those words. “Yeah, firecracker? Ya gonna tell me now or am I gonna have to blast ya for it?”

“Dynamita.”

You had to bite back a laugh when the Pro Hero crumbles and begins to sob as he clings to his daughter who is trying her best to not laugh.

#bnha #mha #mha x reader #mha fluff #bnha fluff #katsuki bakugo #bakugo katsuki #Katsuki fluff #mha katsuki #bnha katsuki x reader #katsuki x you #katsuki bakugo x reader #Suntory angel writing

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meazalykov · 2 months

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redirection VII

esmee brugts x reader

last chapter: redirection VI

next chapter: redirection VIII

being nominated for golden girl was a surprise.

a month after the beach hangout with esmee, its october. i got the news that I've been nominated for the award along with salma, esmee, vicky, and giulia.

I have a feeling that esmee or salma will win it. the both of them are excellent here at barcelona, and they have a world cup campaign to back up their votes.

I didn't.

but little did I know, many people were hoping that I'd win. tons of support has came my way because of my season with the club so far.

each game I've played in, an assist or a goal was attached to my name. my dribbling skills and speed has helped the team with scoring through the toughest defense that another team might bring.

at halftime against atletico madrid, everyone wasn't in the best mood.

the score is 0-0 and nobody has managed to get close to scoring. jona has faith in us, but we were frustrated about scoring a goal. I knew that the atletico players were relieved about not conceding a goal yet.

as I stood by the doors on the dressing room, eager to head out on the pitch to play again, I felt a hand on my right shoulder.

turning my head, esmee gives me a small smile before pulling her hand away. this makes me relax as I follow patri out onto the pitch, with esmee following behind.

esmee was out on the pitch with me since we started together. jona put me on the left-wing and esmee as left-back.

the game starts again and in the 54th minute, patri shoots to score a goal. however, the goalkeeper hits the ball away with her hands instead of catching it.

the ball rolls towards me-- I am standing outside of the box on the left side so I kick the ball towards the goal.

the ball isn't stopped as the ball goes under the goalkeepers legs. the goal is 1-0 as i turned to patri with my hands in the air.

patri runs into my arms and the rest of the team on the pitch come to hug me.

esmee saved herself for last. I hug her tightly as my hand rests on her shoulder.

"that's my golden girl!" esmee mumbles into my ear.

that caused my stomach to melt and my face burned with shyness, however I rolled my eyes playfully-- knowing where she was going with that.

"you're the golden girl-- not me!" I say as I pull out of her embrace and run back into position.

as a smirk is plastered on my face, I look over to see vicky and bruna on the bench giggling. at first, I would've assumed that they're laughing about their own jokes.

that's until vicky started to make kissy faces.

"grow up!" I mouth to the kid on the team as salma prepares to kickoff the game again.

thirty minutes later, the game ends in a 1-0. this wasn't our best, but I know that we will achieve more next game.

"hey capi." I walk over to Alexia, who displays a forced look of content on her face. she was putting the last few toiletries in her gym bag after taking a shower, so she looked at me over her shoulder with a small smile.

"hey nina, great job on today." she turns around and gives me a hug. my face warms at her compliment, alexia tried her best to never let her inner-emotions show around the team.

"thank you. you did great today too." I placed my hand on her right arm as she smiles.

"I know this doesn't have much to do with the game but remember when olga asked about the recipe for the smores dessert I gave you guys a few weeks ago? I have it in my bag if she wants it." I say.

it might've been funny to mention this after a game, but I knew alexia needed the tiny distraction.

"oh yes yes yes! I can have it." she walks behind me as I go over to my bag, pull out a paper with the printed instructions and handed it to her.

"thank you!" Alexia says as she looks over the paper.

"hola! why can't I have one?" patri says from her locker. she stands up and jogs over to look at the paper over ale's shoulder.

"patri you've never tried this dessert." I giggle.

"yes but from the looks of this paper it looks good, I want some." patri says.

"what are we looking at!?" I heard Vicky's voice speak.

a group of salma, vicky, bruna, and esmee walk into the dressing room, seeing patri and alexia reading over the white document.

"oh no." I mumble. this caused a giggle to come out of alexia.

"this is good! who's receta is this?" vicky looks at Alexia, who looks at me with a devilish look.

"maybe I should've gave olga that personally..." I sigh and alexia smiles.

"bruna, esmee, come read this-- doesn't this sound delicious?" salma waves the two girls, who stood by the door, over to read over the small recipe.

my eyebrows knitted together at this, I thought smores were a thing here in europe. well, of course its an ice cream treat that involves it-- but nonetheless.

"is it the sa-mores treat?" esmee smirks at me. my heart warms as I nodded my head with a giggle.

salma, vicky, and patri snap their heads to look over at esmee--who walks over to stand beside me in front of them.

"esmee, you've already tried this?" salma asks.

"why are you surprised? of course esmee tries her girlfriends desserts." vicky casually says.

my jaw drops as patri and salma burst out in laughter. esmee blushes as alexia gives us her signature smile-- amused at the situation.

"okay okay-- you guys can come over to my apartment and I'll make some for the entire team tomorrow night, deal?" I laugh as i take the paper from patri's hands, giving it back to alexia for olga to have.

"deal." salma smirks, not ignoring how you-- or esmee- didn't deny or get defensive over the girlfriend claim by vicky.

next chapter: redirection VIII

#woso fanfics #woso community #esmee brugts #woso x reader #barcelona femeni #fc barcelona #oranjeleeuwinnen #uswnt x reader

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putellas14 · 1 year

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Winner Takes All (Caroline Graham Hansen x Reader ficlet)

"Good luck today, baby! I know you're going to win this. " You stretched your legs out on the hotel bed, looking out the window at Sydney.

"Are you going to be able to watch, at least?" Caroline asked. You could hear the disappointment in her voice that you weren't there.

"Of course, love. Training should be done by then and they're going to let us stay here and watch the game in the conference room." You'd told Caroline that the trainers at Barcelona wouldn't give you the time off to go watch the World Cup final in person. The only reason you weren't with the team playing today was because you'd injured yourself a month before the tournament began and you were only now just getting back to training.

"Okay, well, I'm glad you can at least watch."

"You know I'd be there if I could be, right?"

"Yeah, I know."

"Okay. Go get the girls ready, captain. I can't wait to see you lift that trophy. I love you."

"I love you. I'll call you afterwards. Bye, babe."

"Good luck." You tossed your phone on the bed next to you and scootched off. You were meeting up with Caroline's family soon and you needed to get ready. You ran a hand over the name on the jersey laying on the bed. You'd never worn a Graham jersey in public before. But today felt like the right day. Checking your watch, you cursed yourself for talking to her for so long. You were definitely going to be late. You quickly changed your clothes and rushed out of the hotel.

You were amazed by the crowd when you walked into the stadium. Almost every seat was filled. You'd met with Caroline's parents outside but decided to wait going to your seat until it was nearly game time. Caroline often stopped to wave at her parents before heading into the locker room after warm ups. And you didn't want to risk ruining the surprise.

Just before kickoff, you made your way down to Caroline's family. You hugged some of the other girls' parents you knew and took your seat. Watching her walk out with the captain's armband on filled you with pride. She had proven herself as a leader when she flew to Canada and begged Coach Nelson to come to Norway. He had made all the difference for this team. It was one reason you were extremely sad to miss this World Cup. You always missed your time playing football but being able to see Caroline lead the team to this final was a huge moment that you had missed.

You watched the game on the edge of your seat. Caroline had that look on her face when she went in for the half. She was in her head. She was likely replaying key missed opportunities from the first half, trying to figure out how to improve for the second half. You took out your phone, shooting a quick text to her. Sometimes she checked her phone, sometimes she didn’t. You knew she didn't need the text to get herself ready for the second half, but you hoped maybe it would help a little.

Not twenty minutes into the second half, Maren scored and you were on your feet, screaming your head off. Caroline looked over to catch her dad's eye and saw you. And the little girl next to you. She stumbled coming out of the team celebration. Giggling to yourself, you blew her a kiss.

When the last five minutes hit, you were clutching her mom's hand. Japan scored in the 90th minute and you groaned to yourself. But then you heard cheers and looked up. The offside flag had come up. The VAR check on it seemed to last for hours. When nothing came from it, you jumped to your feet screaming. The girls just needed to hold on through injury time and that star would be theirs.

Four minutes of injury time. Four minutes of both teams fighting like hell for a goal. Norway to solidify their win. Japan to keep themselves in the game. Neither achieving their goal.

The final whistle brought a chill straight through your entire body. They'd won the World Cup. After everything they had been through. Despite everything they had been through. You hugged everyone around you. There were more than a few tears falling in the family section. You wished you could be down there celebrating with them. But this time you had to sit back and let your girl have her moment with her team.

And they did. They excitedly danced around the field, jumping in the piles of confetti and throwing it at each other. You were busy watching Guru dance with Ingrid that you missed Maren point towards you and Caroline run towards the stands. Her dad nudged you when Caroline tried to get your attention unsuccessfully. You looked down at her.

"Pass me the kid!" she yelled.

You helped Maria climb over the wall and down to Caroline. Everyone near them heard the yelled "Mama!" that she let out when Caroline swung her around. A few heads turned to look as Caroline showered the girl's face in kisses. She set her down on the grass and whispered something in her ear. Maria nodded and smiled up at her.

Caroline got closer to the wall again. She hugged her parents and then crooked her finger at you, telling you to come down towards the railing.

"Congratulations!" you said, stopping in front of her.

"Come closer," she said. You leaned down towards her, expecting a hug or something. You were not expecting her to grab the back of your neck and kiss you. Neither of you were shy about your relationship but you also both enjoyed your privacy. The kiss was hard and salty and over before it really began. You hugged her tightly, well as tightly as you could with the wall between you. She barely pulled away from you before she grabbed you by the hips and tossed you over her shoulder. The scream you let out must have been heard around the stadium. She tapped your butt and took off running, telling Maria to keep up.

"Put me down! I'm gonna kill you!" But she didn't put you down. Not until she reached the other girls. You smacked her shoulder as soon as your feet hit the grass. "You could've just asked me to come down."

"Security," Maren said simply, shrugging. The huge grin she gave you indicated that the idea had been hers. You yanked her into a hug.

"Congratulations, vennen." Just as you went to step back, you felt a huge spray hit the center of your back and you ducked hoping to avoid more. Your Barcelona teammate, Ingrid, followed you as you ran. Screaming, you ran behind Caroline, using her as a shield.

"What are you wearing?" Caroline asked, shoving Ingrid away before she could spray the both of you with more water. "Turn around." She pushed your shoulder until you turned. "Babe," she whispered. You felt her run a hand over the letters of her last name.

"I wanted to wear something special for you," you said, turning your head to look at her over your shoulder. She melted into you, wrapping her arms tightly around your waist and burying her head in the curve of your neck.

"You look good with my name on your back," she whispered into your neck.

You felt little arms wrap around your waist and looked down to see Maria holding onto both of you. Picking her up, you moved into Caroline's space so Maria could wrap her short arm around both of your necks.

"I love you," Caroline said, kissing her cheek. "And I love you," she said to you.

"Sorry to break this up, but they're calling us," Ingrid said. "It's time for the awards."

"Go," you said. You put a hand on Caroline's cheek and kissed her softly. "We'll be here waiting when you get back." You watched her walk away, pride swelling inside you. You and Maria moved off to the side to watch the awards ceremony. Maria cheered loudly, clapping her little hands when Caroline lifted the trophy.

You patiently waited for Caroline to enjoy the celebration. A few of your teammates had spotted you and come over to give you and Maria hugs. You were talking with Guru when Maria started wiggling in your arms and trying to get down. You set her down and watched her take off across the field. Worried, you tried to keep an eye on her while Guru continued talking one hundred miles an hour.

Maria ran right to Caroline, who was talking to Ada. Ada smiled down at the girl and ran a hand through her hair. You could see her say a few words to her before turning to leave them alone. Caroline sat down on the grass and pulled Maria into her lap to show off her medal.

You excused yourself from Guru and walked over to them slowly, taking in the scene in front of you. Caroline took her medal off and put it around Maria's neck, bringing an even bigger smile to her face. You watched Maria show the medal off and Caroline take in everything she said with great interest. This was the most important moment her career, and she was choosing to spend it with your daughter. Stopping, you kneeled down next to Caroline's outstretched legs.

"Marry me," you said suddenly, putting your hand on her knee.

"What?" she gasped, looking up at you.

"Marry me," you said again. "I want your name to always be the name on my back."

"Y/N," she whispered. "Are you sure?"

"Idiot. Of course. I want you to officially be Maria's mama." You saw her arm tighten around the child. You leaned into her leg. "So? Just going to leave me hanging here?"

"No. No, I mean, yes!"

You giggled nervously. "Is that a no or a yes?"

"Yes!" She leaned forward to wrap her free arm around you. You locked your arms around her neck, holding her to you. "I love you."

"We love you, superstar."

"Mommy, look!" Maria yelled, not paying attention to anything her parents were saying. "I'm a winner!" She held out the medal around her neck.

You pulled back from Caroline enough to see Maria. "We all won today," you said smiling. Caroline kissed your cheek as you ran a hand through Maria's curls.

"We all won everything today," she said, breathing out a sigh into your neck. "I won everything today."

#Caroline Graham Hansen x reader #Caroline Graham Hansen fic #woso imagine #ficlet #wwc ficlet

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wosowrites · 1 year

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One Shot (Jill Roord x Reader)

warnings: ⚠️swearing and blood⚠️

a/n: let’s pretend Viv’s ACL isn’t torn. based off this request:

prompt: the world cup final with your secret girlfriend Jill Roord.

For two years, Jill and you had been dating. You both played for Wolfsburg, and only your teammates and families knew about your relationship. That was fine with the both of you, although lately, you had been talking about going public. You had both decided that you would tell people after the world cup final. So, tomorrow.

You felt nothing as you stood behind Dan and in front of Jill. Your face was stone cold and full with concentration. You felt a hand gently graze your arm and you knew it was Jill’s way of telling you you had this. You looked to your left at the lionesses. They were all lined up and directly beside you was Lucy Bronze. She was easily the player you were the most scared of on the team. But there was no room for fear in your mind. The referees started walking out into the large australian stadium, the crowd was wild, a sea of orange and white. Everything was a blur. There was the national anthem, the shaking of hands, the team picture, and then the kickoff.

England scored first in the 60th minute from an Alessia Russo banger. Your heart dropped as you saw the ball go in. As one of the wingers, you felt guilty. You were giving Viv service, passes, crosses, and you had taken shots too. But everywhere she was, there was Lucy Bronze, Millie Bright or Leah Williamson. England was unbreakable. That is, until the 78th minute during a corner kick.

You were the Netherlands pride and joy when it came to corner kicks. They were your specialty. You had scored two olympico’s for the netherlands, but that’s not what happened today. You lifted your hand in the air and kicked the ball with your left foot, delivering it perfectly. It went to the back post and you thought you had over shot, that was until Jill came running. She lunged, the sole of her foot connecting with the ball and going flying into the net. The Netherlands fans went crazy. You screamed at the top of your lungs, running to the group of girls in orange who were hugging and jumping around. They opened your arms too you, complimenting your corner. You crossed your fingers to Jill who crossed them back. It was your special thing, you couldn’t do PDA, so it was your way of saying I love you during games.

The referee blew the whistle in the 92 minute. Extra time. It had been a surprisingly clean game for a World Cup final. Only two yellow cards between both teams and a couple of fouls. But you knew that was all about to change. Playing 120 minutes meant people got tired, and panicked, and scared. And that meant unnecessary tackles.

That’s exactly what happened in the 117th minute.

Viv was obviously trying to keep her cool, but she wasn’t positioned well when Dan sent a perfect ball through the midfield and up to where Viv was supposed to be. Luckily for you, you were fast, the ball was in the air and you jumped up, back towards Mary Earps. You brought your leg up and it trapped the ball, but that was as far as you got.

Dirty.

That was the only word for the tackle against you.

The second you trapped the ball with your foot, you felt the breath get taken out of you. You felt someone’s body collide with your own from behind, and you felt their head against the back of yours. Your body went flying forwards, falling on top of the ball and winding you further. You let out a loud groan of pain, rolling on the ground with your eyes shut. You heard a whistle and then felt a hand on your back. Your head was in the grass and your hands were holding the back of your head that was bleeding profusely. "Y/n?" Jill’s familiar voice said. You got onto four legs, digging your palms into the grass. There was clearly blood trickling down your neck. You felt a hand pull down the neck of your jersey a little. "Can’t get your jersey dirty." Jill said gently. "I’m not going off. We need to win this." You mumbled, seeing medics running towards you from the corner of your eye.

"She’s faking it, I barely touched her!" Lucy’s words echoed on the pitch and before you could stop your girlfriend she was on her feet and walking towards the english woman. "She’s faking it?!" Jill yelled, storming towards Lucy and the referee. You tried to get up but the medics stopped you as they were pushing a towel into your head to stop the bleeding.

Jill put her hand up to Lucy’s face, it was full of your blood. "You mean her blood is fake? She’s just- pretending to bleed? You’re fucking dirty!" Jill yelled, pushing Lucy with both hands, leaving a bloody mark on Lucy’s jersey. "Hey! Hey you both better calm down or I’ll send you both off and your teams will be playing a man down each!" The referee yelled at both the women. Lucy gave a death stare to Jill and then walked off, slipping off her jersey and getting handed a new one by her equipment manager. The referee still took out a yellow card, lifting her arm up in the air and showing a yellow to both Lucy and Jill.

Jill was by your side again soon, and the medics had given you the all clear. "You gotta come off for a bit but you can theoretically still play." The man said to you with a nod. "That’s all I need to know." You said. Your head was wrapped up in gauze and tape and Jill gave you a quick hug before taking her position again.

You were back on the field two minutes later but only for a few minutes as no one scored.

Penalty time.

You barely listened to Andries as he gave a quick speech to you guys. All you could think of was how you were going to take that penalty. As the girls started to go like up, Jonker held you back. "Can you take this penalty? Your heart did okay?" He asked you. "I can take it. I’ve got this. We’re doing it just how we did in practice." You told him. He clapped you on the back and you jogged over to the girls. You put one arm around Jill and one around Viv and watched.

Dan took the first penalty. She scored and your team cheered loudly. Then it was Ella Toone. She scored as well. Viv was next you tapped her on the back as she walked towards the spot, closing the gap by putting your arm around Lieke Martens. Viv scored as well. Leah Williamson stepped up next and shot it home. Jackie Groenen stepped up to the spot and slotted it into the far left corner. It was a beautiful penalty. And then Lauren James stepped up. Your team held their breaths as she shot it. Lauren was young, and the penalty was an easy save for Daphne who cheered loudly. Aniek was next and your heart dropped as you saw Mary Earps get the tip of her fingers on the ball. Next was Rachel Daly. That scared you because she wasn’t experienced. But even experienced players miss. Rachel sent it flying sky high.

And then it was your turn. And you knew that scoring this meant you were world champions. If your slotted this home, then even with a goal by England’s next penalty taker, they would still loose.

After 120 minutes and a dirty tackle, wearing a bandage around your head, it was time to make the Netherlands world champs.

You placed the ball and then took four steps back. You made eye contact with Mary Earps, smiling at her gently and throwing her off. The referee whistles and you ran up to the ball. Mary went left. You went right.

The Netherlands were world champions.

You fell to your knees in joy, quickly ending up at the bottom of a large dog pile. eventually they let you out and you jumped around in joy.

All you wanted was to find Jill, and you soon did. You found her and cupped her face with your hands, she did the same to you. You looked at each other like that for a little until you pulled her into a hug. You laughed, and sung, and cried, and hugged so many people. You also toned it down as you tried to comfort a few of the lionesses, including Lucy.

"You were great. You did great." You told her gently. She nodded gently. "Sorry about your head." She sniffled. "Sorry about my girlfriend yelling at you."

You walked away with that, not seeing lucy’s the look of realization on her face as she realized you had called Jill your girlfriend.

The trophy lift was next, Sherida lifted it first, and then Viv, and then she handed it to you and Jill. You both went to the front of the group, and lifted it up in the air together. The Netherlands fans cheered loudly and sang their hearts out.

Confetti in orange and white and silver was all over the floor, you laid down in it, and eventually Jill threw some on you. "Oh you’re on Roord." You said, standing up and throwing confetti at her. You guys were like children on a sugar rush. Except your sugar was alcohol and adrenaline. You were partying, throwing things, singing, laughing and you couldn’t stop hugging Jill.

You both went around signing things and taking pictures, never leaving each others side. All you wanted to do was kiss her.

After another hour on the field, soaking everything in, the fans had left. The stadium was empty other than the Netherlands team. The english were in their locker room, and the dutch girls were starting to go into the tunnel. "You guys coming?" Dan asked you and Jill. You were both lying in the middle of the field, confetti stuck to your body due to the sweat from the game and from the dancing and jumping around.

"In a sec." You said, sitting up.

Dan nodded and walked into the tunnel, leaving you and Jill by yourselves on the field.

Jill shifted so that her head was in your lap and you looked down at her, brushing strand of hair from her face and taking a piece of confetti away from her forehead. "There is no one in the world I would rather be here with." You told her, tearing up. "You mean everything to me. Everything in the world." You told Jill, who smiled lovingly at you. "Well… we own the world now. We’re world champs." She said to you. "But I wouldn’t want to be with anyone other than you either. I’m so in love with you." Jill said.

She sat up gently and you put your forehead against yours, moving only to kiss her. You made out for a couple seconds until you heard movement behind you. You both pulled apart and turned around to see a small english woman picking up her water bottle from the ground. Nobbs. She raised her bottle to you both in a sign of cheers, and walked back inside.

#woso fic #woso imagine #woso x reader #woso #engwnt #netwnt #jill roord #lucy bronze #danielle van de donk #woso fanfics

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room42 · 2 years

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FIFA World Cup 2022 LIVE scores: England vs France updates, Morocco vs Portugal results, kick-off times, quarter final highlights

The England football team is known as the Three Lions – a nickname taken from their emblem. And while the big cats adorn the player’s uniforms, the players themselves have adopted a smaller one as the team’s unofficial mascot. England stars John Stones and Kyle Walker have gone so far as to commit to taking Dave the Cat back home with them should they go all the way and win the World Cup. Dave…

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#Cup #england #FIFA #final #France #highlights #kickoff #live #Morocco #Portugal #Quarter #results #scores #Times #updates #World

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judewrld · 2 years

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ultimate betrayal [kylian mbappe]

⟶ 𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦: it’s the quarter finals of the world cup, normally you would root for your boyfriend kylian at all his games but this one is different. he’s playing against your home team,,,and your brother marcus.

❥ 𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: boyfriend!kylian x f!reader

❥ 𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒: fluff

❥ 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡: 1.2k

⟶ 𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: england being sent home + saka being abused on the pitch

⏤ 𝑎/n: me personally, home team all the way.

“ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the quarter finals, please join us in welcoming france and england to the pitch!” the announcer says over the loudspeakers. the crowd erupts into cheers as both teams walk out onto the pitch with children by their side. you make eye contact with your brother marcus and send him a little smile with a thumbs up. he returns the smile before looking away.

the commentator begins to go over the lineup for both teams and you nervously survey the field to try and find your boyfriend kylian. usually, you would be all decked out in his kit screaming his name to cheer him on but today’s game is different. this would be the deciding match for who goes on to play in the semifinals before making it to the final and your boyfriend is playing against not only your home team, but your older brother as well.

kylian had made the mistake of asking you to sit in his section and wear his jersey, it was a simple request really but you took major offense. you knew how much this game meant to your brother and how much was on the line for england. it felt a little insulting that he would ask you to cheer for the enemy.

kylian, at first, didn’t understand why you were being so harsh. all he wanted was for you to cheer him on like you always did and what should have been a simple disagreement turned into a full blown argument resulting in you giving kylian the cold shoulder and silent treatment. it’s stupid, you know, but having to watch your brother constantly be bashed online for things out of his control made you a bit protective. you can only imagine the amount of hate he would receive if england loses tonight.

the crowd erupts in more cheers as the singing of the national anthems comes to a close and the game finally begins. the crowd is split evenly, half of them cheering on france and the other half booing.

the ball is placed in the center of the field and the referee blows the whistle to signify the start of kickoff. france gets possession of the ball first and makes quick work of kicking the ball down the pitch towards the goal. jude intercepts the ball and he kicks it to harry who plays the ball forward with foden and mason following him to the other side of the field. harry kicks the ball past france’s two attackers only to lose the ball to kylian who sweeps it away and starts bolting down the field. saka follows closely behind trying to kick it away but he’s pushed down forcefully by tchouameni before he kicks the ball and sends it straight into the goalkeeper's net. the ref blows the whistle and the scoreboard is updated, 1-0.

the game continues on in this fashion and before you know it it’s the final half of the game and france is in the lead, 2-1. you’re on the edge of your seat, it’s clear at this point that the ref is biased. there had been so many fouls against england but not a single one was called, saka has been kicked around almost as if he were the ball but no cards nor penalty kicks were given whereas the france team was gifted fouls left and right if an england player so much as took a step near them.

the game is now in extra time and it’s looking rather slow for england. the ball is dropped into the center and the whistle is blown, the ball is turned over to england and maguire kicks the ball back to harry and runs forward to play defense. harry stalls for a second allowing dembele to move forward and kick the ball away from him and play it forward. jude steps up and pushes against the boys chest and steals the ball before kicking it to the other side of the field and far away from the england goal. you follow the ball with your eyes and watch it land at foden’s feet. he moves up to make a pass to mason but is forcefully pushed by a midfielder on the opposing team. you cringe when you see foden fall forward right onto his face before tumbling over and over. you expect the ref to call a foul and grant your team a free kick but the call never comes. you stand up in shock, “that’s a foul!” you shout causing other england fans to yell their agreement as well. but the referee only shakes his head and blows his whistle, “no foul. the game is still live.”

“that’s bullshit!” you curse, beyond frustrated.

you clasp your hands together and pray that england can make one more goal. england holds down their own and puts up a good defense, not allowing france to score again. you watch as england makes quick work of getting the ball down the field to france’s side once more. maguire is in possession of the ball and goes to make a pass but gets tripped by a french player.

“foul! that’s a foul!” you yell and thankfully, the ref agrees granting england one last free kick. you watch as the england team debates on who should make the goal and you smile proudly when you notice they gave it to marcus. you watch with bated breath as he does a run up before striking the ball but to your disappointment it hits the bar rather than going into the net. your eyes close and you hang your head. england has been knocked out of the world cup.

the crowd erupts in cheers for france as the team holds a group hug in the center of the field.

you want to be happy for kylian but a part of you is upset for england and your brother. choosing to be a good sport, you languidly clap for france as you look onto the pitch. kylian looks up at you with a bright smile on his face. you don’t return it.

you leave the stands to head down to the france locker room, knowing your brother would want his space and at some point you would need to congratulate your boyfriend on his win.

“mon amour!” kylian says when he enters the locker room to find you pouting. he tries to reel in his excitement, knowing this win was rather painful for you.

you slowly make your way to him and wrap your arms around his waist, “you know that i love you and i’ll always be proud of you right?” you question.

he returns your hug and hums, “of course, i love you more.”

you sigh into his chest before pulling away. “good. with that being said, you’re sleeping in the guest room indefinitely.”

kylian lets out a choked laugh, “you can’t be serious?” you huff, “i am! england deserved to win that match!” kylian doesn’t argue, he knows deep down you’re proud of him for winning just a little hurt that your home team was being sent home. “fine. let’s see how well you sleep without your personal heater beside you.”

you gasp, “wait, i take it back.”

kylian shrugs. “too late.”

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