#osws

[ticiie]

week 3: (missed) late night calls

prompt from the off-season winter sport fandom challange

characters: Nico Hischier, Jonas Siegenthaler, Jack Hughes (mentioned), Dougie Hamilton (mentioned)

length: 795 words

author's note: once again had to adjust the prompt because it was giving me 💫nothing💫 also as much as i want switzerland to do well at the upcoming iihf worlds, i kinda don't want to see any of the devils there because i want them to win the cup even more? sue me. so here goes nothing

The silence which had settled in the bus was filled with a tension that was almost graspable. Most of the players were trying to distract themselves by listening to music or scrolling through their phones. Nico, who was sitting next to Jonas in the back of the bus, had his head rested against the window. His level of adrenaline was still low enough to make him drowse off every now and then and since traffic was making a fool of them at the moment anyway, he might as well use the time efficiently. Jonas, on the other hand, felt his heart beating in his throat already. Not to be dramatic but the amount of blood, sweat and yes, even tears, it had taken them all to get here tonight was far beyond anything he could’ve ever imagined. It would all come to an end tonight and Jonas was trying to not imagine what would happen if they lost in tonight’s final. There was no sense in worrying about the outcome, never had been, yet his brain was running on full speed, his chest felt tight all of a sudden, and why was it so hot in here, had somebody turned on the heating? Jonas was pulling at the collar of his button down. An unpleasant tingle started to rise from somewhere near his stomach into his limbs. Only when Nico placed his hand above Jonas’ which he had clenched around the handle that was fixed to the backrest of the seat in front of him, he felt the flurry easing off little by little.

“Breathe,” Nico said, his voice as calm as always. Jonas did as he was told. They locked eyes, their fingers intertwined, pulling each other back up to the surface. The panic passed almost as quickly as it came and Jonas’ heartbeat slowed down to a healthier rhythm again. Nico didn’t let go of his hand though, not even as he pulled out his phone and showed Jonas a picture that had just reached both their and also Timo’s and Akira’s phone. It was most of their other team, and they were all wearing red-and-white jerseys that said “Swiss devils” giving the camera thumbs up and bright smiles. Jack had captioned the picture “GO WOLF PACK” and Jonas smiled. “I guess he’s not angry at us anymore then?” he asked.

“He told me how he’d much rather get kicked out by us than having to watch Sweden winning yet another time.”

“So, no pressure at all,” Jonas mumbled and Nico laughed softly. He pulled Jonas’ hand towards him and placed a small kiss on the older one’s knuckles. “We’ll be okay.” It was more of a promise than anything else and Jonas wanted nothing more in the world than to believe it and especially the person rewarding it to him.

What happened then was the stuff that dreams were made of. Until this night, Nico had never seen their head-coach cry but when Patrick was handed the trophy, his face was covered in tears and the sight of it alone was enough for a sob to escape Nico's throat. It took them half an eternity to get from the ice to the mixed zone let alone back into the changing room. Nico was the last player to reach it. He had lost complete track of time. The mood was incomparable to what it had been like this afternoon, loud music, shouts, and laughter were filling the cabin, someone had organised beer and pizza and the trophy was still going its rounds from hand to hand. It was simply impossible to describe the pure joy that was soaring through Jonas’ body. And when Nico entered the changing room, exhausted but happy, his heart started doing the sort of flips he had gotten addicted to over the years.

By the time Jonas got to check his phone again, the clock on the display told him it was past 3am. His intoxicated brain didn’t progress this information at all, along with the fact that apparently, Jonas had missed two dozen calls and was left with nearly one hundred unread messages. The only one that mattered though was one from Hamilton that had arrived only a few minutes ago. It was a picture he obviously had taken from a TV-screen, frozen at the very moment when Jonas and Nico had reached each other after the final siren that had announced their victory. One could barely tell where Nico started and Jonas ended and all Hamilton had to say about it was a short “idiots in love. Congrats.” Jonas grinned into his phone like an utter goofball as he set the picture as his lock screen-wallpaper. The night was mild, a soft breeze was rushing through Jonas’ hair and he exhaled in relief.

[onedivision]

one Sole will Survive

Louis immediately goes into panic mode. He’s been offered another chance to play but is going to have to reject it all because he isn’t in a relationship. He turns around to see Harry taking a sip of his beer during the commercial break. 

“Yeah, I am, actually.” 

What? 

“And I think he would love the opportunity. So, in that case, I’m in.”

| Chaptered | Complete | 70.9k |

[ciestessde]

So. This is my new side blog.

This is where my stories (and other various original works) will be posted. So if you only want to see those, this is the place to follow! I will only be posting the works themselves (and updates about them) on here, so following this one won’t blow up your notifications with things like random funny reblogs, pictures of Izaya Orihara, other people’s fanworks, more pictures of Izaya Orihara -- y’know, things like that.

(On the other hand, if that sounds like your cup of tea, feel free to follow my other Tumblr @ciestess !)

Also, a little announcement:

April Fools OSW Competition!

Ever since totally NOT being a week late with the Valentine’s Day One-Shot Wednesday (nope, that didn’t happen), I realized it could be fun to have a little competition for Holiday-themed OSWs!

Basically how it works is this: starting about a month in advance, I’ll start accepting/storing requests for the holiday’s OSW, and the request that sounds the most entertaining AND closest to that holiday’s spirit wins!

Don’t worry about not winning, though. While the winning request will be the one posted on the Wednesday closest to the holiday, expect all of the requests to be written eventually!  (Unless I just get TOO many! A girl can dream, right?)

So for the April Fools OSW Competition, the most funny, strange, and unique request wins! (Bonus points if there’s pranking involved!)

[ticiie]

week 4: "I don't know what I'm feeling but there's a lot of it"

prompt from the off-season winter sport fandom challenge

length: 841 words

characters: Marco Odermatt, Loïc Meillard, Zoé Chastan, Gino Caviezel, Justin Murisier (mentioned)

author's note: happy 92 days anniversary of one of the best days in swiss sport-history! decided to take a few changes on it just because i can and also because i miss the ski himbos being happy himbos

Zoé's knees gave in the second Loïc had crossed the finish line. He had been the last one to start in the second run, Marco had already shown his best, leaving the third on the podium more than a second behind him and, now that it was official, so did Loïc. Her colleagues were too tied up with screaming in joy to understand the significance of Loïc's timestamp. But when Marco came running towards him, his force knocking them both over, one single mess of limbs and skis and happy tears, realization hit them with a sudden burst. There was no holding back. And Zoé was unable to stand, with all the pressure gone from one second to the next, all she could do was to cry. Many staff members came hugging her first before losing themselves in their frenzy. Through the veil of tears, she eventually saw her boyfriend’s face projected to the big screen. Behind them, volunteers started setting up the podium for the unofficial winners’ presentation. 

“Congratulations to this victory, Loïc Meillard and Marco Odermatt! How does it feel to be a world champion?”, the interviewer asked. The swiss fans were almost loud enough to drown her out. Marco was distracted by someone in the crowd, Zoé couldn’t tell who exactly he was waving at so eagerly, so Loïc took over answering. “Uh, I don’t know what I’m feeling but there’s a lot of it. I personally didn’t expect it to turn out like this, I was glad to have made it into the second run, let alone to stay first, I- I have no words.” 

“You really deserve it; your performance was incredible. What about you, Marco?” Loïc nudged Marco’s side to draw his attention to the camera and the journalist. His smile was bigger and brighter than the sun that was fighting itself through a layer of clouds. 

“Sorry, what was the question again?” 

Everyone laughed, including the interviewer. She showed mercy with the two athletes and only asked Marco this one question before they were allowed to leave the stage for a few minutes until the broadcaster was ready again. Marco and Loïc both hurried across fences and through the crowd of other athletes and operatives until they finally reached the spot their team had gathered. Zoé didn’t see how but Loïc managed to escape dying of suffocation and instead found her, wrapping her up in a bear hug. He was aware of the cameras that were probably pointed at them this very second but for once, he didn’t care about it at all. Having Zoé pressed to his chest, hearing the team rejoice, was enough to tear down each and every single wall inside of him. He felt the tears streaming down his cheeks. Marco wasn’t doing any better either and considering the fact the pressure on his shoulders had been quite a bit larger than what Loïc had experienced, it wasn’t a surprise at all to find him still standing, but sobbing. Zoé was the first to regain her composure. She let go of Loïc only so much she could look at him.  

“They’re waiting for you; you need to get back-” Loïc interrupted her with a kiss. Marco didn’t remember half of what followed, someone awarded him a flower bouquet and he assumed he had sung along the national anthem but he wouldn’t have wanted to bet money on that. His body acted on his own accords while his mind was somewhere else, still trying to wrap itself around the fact that Switzerland had just conquered not one, but two gold medals in a single race. He did as he was told, gave an interview here, smiled into a dozen cameras there, answered the same questions repeatedly when all he really wanted to do was to be with Gino and also Justin because victory tasted best alongside cheap beer and terrible music, he remembered that much from China. And finally, after what felt like an entire year, all TV stations uttered their contentment. Marco was out of the building in a matter of seconds. He had lost an overview on their obligations that followed a victory this big about two or three glasses of champagne ago and therefore had no clue where Loïc was. Marco had felt his phone vibrating in his pocket throughout the entire last interview and now found it covered in texts and pictures, all regarding the party that was going down in the house of Switzerland. 

Gino was waiting for him at the back entrance. He met Marco halfway once he saw him coming and didn’t miss another second to finally kiss his world champion. The world around them slowed down, allowing Marco to breathe. He felt nothing else than Gino’s lips on his, Gino’s arms around him, Gino, Gino, Gino. And when they parted again, their foreheads pressed against each other, both trying to savor every last fracture of the moment, Gino asked how Marco was feeling. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever been happier than this very second.” 

[ticiie]

week 2: Everything is going to be okay

prompt from the off-season winter sport fandom challange

characters: Marco Odermatt, Chris Lödler, Zoé Chastan, Gino Caviezel

length: 597 words

January 2023, Kitzbühel

Chris noticed something was off the second Marco crossed the finish line. As far he could tell from the distance, it wasn't as bad as it had been the last time. Marco didn't break down crying, but he was still glad when Chris supported his walk and eventually helped him to take off the skis. The mixed zone turned chaotic as soon as the first journalist had spotted Marco's limp. Zoé helped Chris to shield Marco from the prying camera lenses and microphones as good as possible. They found the team hospitality to be almost abandoned which was good because Marco felt worse by the minute. He let himself fall on one of the plastic chairs, the injured leg stretched out because bending the knee did not feel alright at all, and buried his face in his hands. The adrenaline had worn off, the pain started to radiate up and down the whole leg and Marco hoped the feeling of a fist clenching around his throat would pass again quickly. The corner of his eyes burned.

“I need to get back, Alexis is still up at the start-”

“Don't worry, I got it. Go.”

Chris was reluctant to leave. Marco straightened his back and looked at him. “It's okay. Everything's going to be okay.,” he said. They had known each other for half an eternity now, yet Chris wasn't sure if he believed Marco's words. He left the room and hurried back to the skidoo-station. Meanwhile Zoé was organising a fastest possible transport back to the hotel while also keeping the team’s physiotherapist updated. Marco peeled the race suit off his body in order to examine the knee closer. The swelling was visible already yet it wasn’t bruised which Marco took as a good sign. It felt instable though, he didn’t want to put any pressure on it. The first doubts started to creep into his head: What if the injury was just a bit delayed? What if it really was the meniscus that had taken the hit again and was now fully blown, with no other option than to remove and replace it completely? That would have him in the hospital for a week and the season at its end, no world championship, no more competing for the big globe, let alone the small ones that he got a chance at, and don’t get started on the rehab, the last one had been terrible-

“Marco!”

Zoé’s voice ripped him out of the thought spiral. She was holding out her phone to him and he gave her a confused look but she just motioned him to take it. Marco took a short glance at the screen and recognised Gino’s name on it and suddenly, something inside of him sighed. He tried to swallow past the lump in his throat. Gino knew him well enough to talk first: “This is different. You’re going to be back on track in no time.”

“How can you be so sure?” Marco hated how fragile his voice sounded.

“I just am. There’s no way Loïc gets to be the only teammate challenging me for a medal in Schladming, I don’t begrudge him that sort of satisfaction.”

Marco laughed weakly. The door opened again and the physiotherapist joined their group, Marco clenched his hand around the phone a little tighter because he knew the upcoming minutes weren’t going to be easy on neither his knee nor his mind.

“I’ll call you as soon as I know more, okay?” he asked Gino.

“Of course. And Marco?”

“Yeah?”

“Everything’s going to be okay. I promise.”

[ticiie]

week 1: the first time

prompt from the off-season winter sport fandom challange

characters: Marco Odermatt, Gino Odermatt (mentioned), Paddy Kälin

lenght: 667 words

author's note: as happy as I honestly am about the revival of the osws-prompts, I had a hard time coming up with something for week one. I had to bend and break the prompt in order to find the minimum ammount of inspiration and this is the result that has me apologizing already. Let's hope week 2 turns out easier and therefor better 🤞🏼

The friendly lady that had accompanied Marco through the highly confusing insides of the studio gave him a sign to walk through the corridor. The audience was pretty huge, a lot bigger than the last time he had been here. Marco gave them an awkward wave that only seemed to fire them up. Paddy, the host of tonight’s broadcast, just shrugged. He tried to say something but Marco couldn’t hear a word through the applause. Paddy pointed him to the table and Marco gladly took a seat. He had spotted his sister and one of his best mates sitting in the front row, Alina gave him a secret thumbs up and Marco tried not to laugh at her too much. The crowd eventually calmed down again so Paddy got to fulfil his job as anchor-man.

“Welcome back, thanks for taking your time!”

“Thanks for having me.”

The medals of the world championship were lying at the edge od the round table, close to the three crystal globes Marco had won this season. Paddy didn’t hesitate to use them as a hook to the interview:

“Let me summaries some statistics of your season: Two-time world champion, three-time globe winner, one of them being the overall globe, your second I may add, most points won in a single season on men’s side which got you tearing down a 23 year old record, and since yesterday: national champion in giant slalom. Congratulations.”

“Thank you very much.”

“It sounds a bit unbelievable but this is the first time you’ve won that title! Does it mean as much to you as the other victories?”

“Well, it’s certainly a great feeling to have it secured as well, especially since I can’t compete at the nationals every season, so it’s nice how it worked out this year alongside everything else. But it’s not comparable to winning Adelboden for example. It’s a bit more down to earth, less hectic.” Laughs came through the audience, Marco felt his shoulders relax. After that, the rest of the interview went by smoothly. At one point, Alina gestured Marco to sit up straighter and Marco had to bite his tongue in order not to burst into laughter. As they reached the end of Marco’s screen time, Paddy brought up the topic of vacations and time away from training. Marco chuckled. “It’s really not as much as people might think. I’ve got some more appointments and testing sessions scheduled and I’ll try to get a few weeks off before the first training camp starts again in June.”

“How does an athlete like you spend his vacation? Are you allowing yourself a week on a sunbed with a good book and no physical exercise or do you need to spend it actively? Taking sightseeing-tours, getting an adrenaline kick?” Paddy pointed over his shoulder to the big LED-screen where the production had pulled up a picture on which he and Gino were hanging overhead from a bungee rope. Again, the audience laughed, just like Marco.

“It really doesn’t matter what I do or where I go, you can always be sure to find Gino calling you on day two, complaining about him being bored and asking what the plan for the day is.”

The program was being shown live on national TV. Marco had forgotten to leave his phone in the dressing room so now he could feel it vibrating in his pocket after saying the thing about Gino. He knew that the text message probably didn’t contain the nicest expressions without having to read it and Marco might would have to make amends by getting Gino a year-supply of those disgusting frog-shaped candies that he loved so much. He had never understood his boyfriend’s obsession over those and they also didn’t taste like the soft drink they shared their name with but Marco knew it would make Gino happy and that was the least he could do after deliberately teasing him in front of a good quarter of the Swiss population.

[ticiie]

week 28: "I heard what you said in that interview"

prompt from the off-season winter sport challenge

pairing: (implied) Nico Hischier/Jonas Siegenthaler

length: 812 words

The storm was still raging outside of Nico’s window, with rain slamming against the blinds the wind rustling underneath the roof. He hadn’t fully woken up yet and at first, he believed to have imagined his phone ringing. But when the noise didn’t stop and his thoughts cleared a little, he grabbed a hold on it and answered it without checking the caller-ID. 

“Hello?”, he rasped into the speaker, voice still heavy with sleep. 

“Dammit, I woke you up, didn’t I?” Jonas. Of all people on this planet with the possibility to reach Nico on his phone, it was Jonas who had decided to call him in the middle of the night. 

“No, I’ve been up for hours”, Nico lied, with a yawn giving him away immediately. 

“Forget that I called. Go back to sleep, this can wait.” 

Before Jonas even got the chance to hang up, Nico stopped him. “No, I’m awake, you better tell me what’s up now, otherwise this was totally unnecessary and I'd have to blame you for me not being focused enough in training later.” 

If Jonas forgot about the time difference between New Jersey and Switzerland, his reason to call must be pretty important. 

“It’s just that...”, Jonas started but then broke off. Nico imagined him sitting on the bench in the changing room, already wearing the training gear while the rest of his temporary team probably wasn’t even up yet. It was the small things that made people stick to the thought that opposites attract and while Nico hardly ever got up before 9am, Jonas was a morning person. Nico sat up straight in his bed and turned on the lamp on his bedside table. The room was illuminated by warm light yet it still somehow felt cold. Empty. 

“I heard what you said in that interview.”, Jonas eventually said. “And I just wanted to let you know that...I miss you.” His voice was barely comprehensible, not much more than a whisper. The excitement that welled up in Nico hearing those words from Jonas made him bite his tongue. 

“You do?” 

“Yeah.” 

The line fell silent and although a good 6’000 kilometres were keeping them apart from each other, it appeared as if Jonas and Nico had been transported into a third space, one that was only reachable through their phones, it wasn’t graspable yet it still felt more real than a lot of things did these days. An ache tore through Nicos heart by the fact that reaching across the mattress ended in empty space and not in finding Jonas’ hand there like he wished to do. Time had been ticking by painfully slow ever since Nico had boarded the plane back to the states a few weeks ago, with Jonas staying behind to spend more time with his family. The apartment they still shared had turned into a prison to Nico and he had fled it whenever possible. Right now, though, things started to makes sense again all of a sudden. As if something had clicked. 

“I miss you too”, Nico whispered. He didn’t have to see Jonas to know that the older one was grinning from ear to ear. There was something causing noise in the background on Jonas’ side of the line so they decided to leave it for now. 

“You better go. Have fun training and don’t hurt yourself.” 

“Same to you. And sorry again for waking you up.” 

“Totally worth it”, Nico replied before ending the call for good. 

The storm had not yet eased down, sending strange sounds through the walls and into the bedroom. Nico sat in the dim light a little longer, recalling the interview he had given to an online sports magazine a few days ago. They had asked him if he would be making any changes on the team for the upcoming season, his position as captain allowed it after all to have a say in who would be holding which position. His answer had come without the slightest hesitation. No, he wasn’t even thinking about changing anything other than what their head coaches had decided. Things had worked out very well last year, so why should he force any changes? “I want things to stay the way they are”, he had said. 

It hadn’t been his urgent intention to sound ambiguous or to give his words more meaning than the literal, but of course Jonas’ had read between the lines. It was easy to refer Nicos statement to the argument they had shared after the end of the regular season months ago, shredding it to pieces with just that one sentence. Nico wanting things to stay the way they were also meant he really really really didn’t want Jonas to move out. Them living together had worked out perfectly fine, why force change on something that was obviously the best it could be? 

[ticiie]

week 20: sitting on a porch at night

prompt from the off-season winter sport challenge

pairing: Nico Hischier/Jonas Siegenthaler

length: 732 words

author's note: a teaser to what might become more in the future, set after the recently held Swiss Ice Hockey Awards

It wasn’t exactly that Nico hated public events during the off-season. But of course, he’d much rather spend the limited time he got in his home country with his family and his friends before he would have to return to North America. Nico surely knew that as a professional athlete, one had to bring certain sacrifices, especially when being named captain of the National Team not even six months ago. That is why Nico found himself in a well frequented event location, surrounded by several team mates, even more staff members, officiants and partners and what felt like at least a dozen cameras that followed the award ceremony they all had gathered for that night. As nice as it was to see those players who were bound to Switzerland and who Nico therefore had limited contact to, the suit he was wearing felt itchy, the knot of the tie made it hard to breathe and the lights were too bright. Really the only thing that made him live through this charade was the person sitting next to him, facing the stage and carefully listening to the laudatory speech their assistant coach was holding in honours of presenting the award for the most popular player.  

Jonas. 

It had always been Jonas and it would always remain Jonas. The person who grounded Nico and yet let him soar two feet above the ground, who made him feel like flying alongside the butterflies in his stomach. Not that Jonas was aware of the kind of impact he had on Nico. The younger one had manged to pull up walls around his emotions, to keep them at bay when necessary. The only thing that made them tremble on a regular basis was that dammed crooked smile that transformed something in Jonas’ appearance. It turned him from the ever so professional sportsman into the childishly playful guy he still was at heart. 

Underneath the table they were sitting at, Jonas’ knee brushed against Nicos what he assumed was by accident. Yet he still could feel the heat rising towards his neck. Jonas shifted his position again so that Nico caught a breath of his aftershave. Nico wasn’t entirely sure if he would survive the evening. 

He did survive the honouring, just like that. The strength had left him when he had to decide whether to decline or to accept Jonas offer of joining him on a nightcap at the hotel bar down the street and before Nico realised, they were seated at a round table, surrounded by the comforting busyness of a restaurant after dinner and other people’s conversations. During this time of the year, the bar had made itself a name by the spectacular view the guests got to enjoy while spending their money on drinks with fancy names that tasted incredible. Shaped like a horseshoe, a boardwalk had been built above the hotel-owned pond. With the candles swimming on the water surface, the impression of sitting in the middle of the star spilt night sky was absolutely well matched. And for the first time tonight, Nico no longer felt like running away. Sitting here on this porch, Jonas opposite of him, a warm breeze in his hair, with the tie loosened and the sleeves of his shirt rolled up, he felt so much better. Perhaps even the best since returning for the season preparations. Jonas looked at him. 

“What?”, Nico asked eventually, a smile lurking at the corners of his lips. 

“Nothing”, Jonas replied equally amused. “It’s just...you look very handsome.” 

It was hard to tell due to the dim light, but Nico suspected Jonas to be blushing as well. He took a sip from his gin, Jonas’ gaze lingered on him and Nico feared to burst into flames any second. There was about a million topics they could discuss, one of them being their living-situation in New Jersey, but instead, they sat in silence. A silence that was dripping in anticipation, there was no denying. And Jonas must have been feeling it too. It was Jonas who took the leap over the edge. He reached out for Nico’s hand and intertwined their fingers, leaving the younger one short of breath. His thumb trailed across the inside of Nicos wrist, right where he could feel his pulse raging. Nico swallowed. 

“Tell me to stop”, Jonas whispered, his voice was like gunfire in Nicos ears. 

“Never.”