#the BAFTA bait cricket centric sports drama of my dreams

[firstelevens]

#32 from the prompt list for Des/Ian (the most beloved cricket boys) 🏏♥️ (is that a cricket bat emoji?? Who knows??

32. things you said right after hello

Ian doesn’t even really know where he’s headed when he leaves his flat; he just knows that he needs some air and maybe something with too much sugar in it. After two hours of back and forth with a head teacher, the deputy headmaster, and the parents of a student who frankly should never have gotten in trouble in the first place, he just wants to sit on his own for a while.

The neighborhood is still a little unfamiliar, but he has the vague memory of a coffee shop just off the park, and it doesn’t look too busy when he makes his way inside. There’s a couple working at laptops in the back corner, and a very tall, broad-shouldered man by the counter, right near where the pastries are displayed.

He’s only taken a couple steps towards the glass case when the other man notices him, immediately taking a few steps to the side.

“Sorry,” he says with a small smile, “let me just get out of your way so you can see.”

“Oh, that’s–” Ian starts to say, but the man is already well clear of the glass. He doesn’t look at all put out, but part of Ian feels bad. Anyone that tall has probably spent a lot of time ducking out of the way so others can see, and there was something so conciliatory in how he moved out of the way that Ian suspects other people aren’t necessarily polite about asking him to do it.

He’s supposed to be looking at the cakes in the display, but he finds his gaze drifting up to the mirror behind the espresso machine, taking in the other man’s face while he’s distracted by his phone. Ian has already acknowledged that he’s attractive and decided to move past it when he sees the man beam delightedly at something on his phone, and he’s man enough to admit that it makes him a little weak-kneed. Surely people with smiles like that shouldn’t be allowed to just break them out without warning.

The man glances up and Ian immediately snaps his gaze back down to the display case, finally looking at the pastries that he’d left the house for in the first place. He doesn’t know what makes him do it—he didn’t leave the house with the intention of chatting up a stranger in a coffee shop—but he suddenly wants to start a conversation, and he’s been too distracted checking out the other man to register literally anything about the shop that they’re in.

“How do you reckon a matcha cake pop would be?” he wonders out loud, for lack of anything else to bring up.

It takes the stranger beside him a moment to realize that he’s being addressed, but then he directs one of those sweet smiles at Ian and says, with a little shrug, “Matcha better than the birthday cake one, I bet.”

Ian feels his jaw drop slightly, his eyebrows going up in surprise, and after a moment, the other man wrinkles his nose a little bit. Regrettably, it just makes him cuter.

“You’re right not to laugh; that wasn’t my best work.”

“No, no,” Ian says hurriedly. “It was perfect; I’ll be tormenting students with it as soon as I get the chance.”

“The highest honor.”

“Of course,” says Ian. “Who, uh– who should I credit when they inevitably yell at me for it?”

The other man looks surprised for a moment, but then his face clears and he smiles again. “I’m Desmond,” he says. “Or just Des, really.”

“Hi, Des,” says Ian, smiling back before remembering that he should probably introduce himself, too. “I’m Ian.”

“Hi, Ian,” says Des, picking up the coffee that the barista has just set on the counter. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” Ian says, and decides that just sitting there on his own is overrated, actually.

#okay is this maybe things you said BEFORE hello? PERHAPS #me after writing the ty tandy fic yesterday: tomorrow's will be shorter! #at this point I should just play by opposite day rules #there are only three people aside from me who care about this meet cute but you know what! they're all important to me so there! #sesamestreep #zainab does ask meme things #the bafta bait cricket centric sports drama of my dreams #my fic

[firstelevens]

#6 for any of your cricket show children, If you’re so inclined!! ♥️

6. I know delusion when I see it.

Des shakes his head. She’s never seen him look defeated before, not even in the face of actual defeat. It’s unnerving. “Divs and Farhan and Charlie are all working so hard for this, but the Board isn’t going to say yes. They never were,” he says. “I fooled myself into thinking that it could happen.”

“I know delusion when I see it, okay? I’ve been a Mets fan my whole life. But that’s not what this is,” says Laura. “We all know that you’re the best man for the job, and the only reason they’re dragging their feet is that they’re too cowardly to admit that they’ve been wrong this whole time. You don’t need to change anything. They do.”

He looks down at her, not quite smiling but with a little more light in his eyes. “That means a lot, Laura. Thank you.”

“Wait,” she says, “actually, I was wrong. There is one thing that you need to change.”

“Oh?”

She nods as seriously as she can. “Yeah, your objectively wrong opinion on Sean Paul. I can’t endorse the captaincy of a man who doesn’t understand that ‘Temperature’ is a musical masterpiece.”

Des throws his head back and laughs, slinging an arm around Laura’s shoulder. 

“I’m going to miss you, Daley News,” he says, and she tries to ignore the sudden ache in her chest as they head inside.

#birdhapley #thank u for this Emma I LOVE U #the bafta bait cricket centric sports drama of my dreams #zainab does ask meme things #taylor swift prompt fics #my fic

[firstelevens]

You know I'm here for the Desi OCs - original cricket flavour or new heist flavour doesn't matter. For a word, 'mango'?

Farhan walks back to where the boys are standing, sprawled across picnic tables still covered in dew. "Alright, I don't want to hear any moaning; we're going to do these terrible team building exercises and we're going to bond over how much we-" he trails off, tipping his head up. "Why is Nik in a tree?"

The aforementioned bowler leans around a particularly thick clump of leaves to look down at Farhan. "I was trying to demonstrate the appropriate way to steal a mango from your neighbor's tree, but I'm beginning to think that this method only works if you're five."

"No, you're just doing it wrong," says Owen, swinging himself up into the branches and climbing higher than Nik. "It's not about how big you are; it's about weight distribution."

"Maybe it's the fact that you're both in a maple tree, so the odds of finding a mango are lower than usual," says Farhan, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Come on, Farhan. You have to believe," says Ajay, expertly dodging a halfhearted swat. "Hasn't Noorie made you read her any fairytales lately?"

"She's really more into mysteries nowadays," offers Des. From his spot on the picnic table, he leans around to get a better look at the pathway beyond the tree, then calls out, "Morning, Divs! I didn't know you were joining us."

Nik and Owen are back on solid ground in under five seconds, and Farhan and Des have whisked the team towards the starting line before anyone has the chance to figure out what just happened.

#me with a megaphone: DES BRATHWAITE IS CAPTAIN MATERIAL #you are my absolute favorite; thank you for being so enthusiastic about my fictional children #this is...way more than 3 sentences but WHATEVER #this is not remotely relevant but I need u all to know that this scene takes place in Regent's Park #where I once almost tripped over a duck while walking home #the bafta bait cricket centric sports drama of my dreams #magaramach #zainab does ask meme things #my fic

[firstelevens]

i don't know if you're still doing 3-sentence, but desi OCs once more? (can you tell i'm desperate for south asian representation)

Anon, even if I haven’t reblogged a 3 sentence fic meme, you have carte blanche to request fic for these OCs any time because it makes my heart grow three sizes every time you do.

Also if you’re really gunning for representation please come talk to me about my other OCs who are a heist crew; my vanity knows no bounds and I could talk about them forever.

------

“Ajay,” says Farhan, pinching the bridge of his nose as he surveys the kitchen, “you’re literally somebody’s dad.”

Both of them turn to look at Naina, who’s perched in her high chair and giggling delightedly as she smacks her hand into the carrot and rice purée that should have been packed into tiny containers but has instead painted half the kitchen (and Naina herself) a cheery shade of orange.

“In my defense, this isn’t even the most disastrous thing I’ve done this month,” Ajay says, tasting what’s left in the blender jar. “Now hand me that mop; if we hurry, we can hide all the evidence before Divya gets home.”

#this narrative brought to you all by me briefly forgetting to put the lid on my blender while making BEETROOT PASTA SAUCE #it was so aggressively magenta you guys I'm not sure my mother has forgiven me #anyway anon YOU'RE AN ANGEL AND I LOVE YOU #you're welcome to come chat about representation anytime #my fic #Anonymous #the BAFTA bait cricket centric sports drama of my dreams

[firstelevens]

If you’re still doing 3-sentence I am incredibly charmed by your Desi OCs I have only met today and would love to hear more about them.

This was SUCH a lovely message to receive! I wasn’t sure whether you meant Noor and Farhan or Ajay and Divya but I have absolutely no chill and this message overwhelmed me with delight, so...here’s six sentences featuring all four of them.

---

Given how significant this evening feels -- being the first time that Divya has ever come along to Ajay’s standing Tuesday night dinner with the Ashrafs -- things seem to be going pretty smoothly. Farhan would give any brown mum a run for her money in the hospitality department and Noor keeps the conversation running smoothly and Ajay is so at ease, letting Noor sneak her vegetables onto his plate and hardly batting an eye when she swipes a roast potato from him.

Divya had been admittedly nervous on the way over: even though Farhan is a friend and Noor is the sweetest kid in the world, this feels like a big step and she’s...not necessarily the best with big steps. Still, she can feel herself relaxing as she cradles a cup of tea and leans back in her seat, Ajay’s arm casually draped over the back of her chair.

And then Noor opens her mouth, and with all the earnest curiosity that her eight years merit, asks the question that she’s apparently been chewing over all night: “Divya, if you and Uncle Jay are together now and I call him Uncle Jay, does that mean I should call you Aunt Divya?”

Ajay chokes on his coffee and Farhan’s eyes go wide in surprise and Divya immediately begins composing the text that she plans to send to the team group chat demanding to know just who bribed Noor to make this happen.

#sweet anon you have made my heart SO HAPPY #may your days be lovely and filled with light #yes these sentences are semi-trucks but that's fine by me #i have a lot of feelings about my fictional kids #for those of u who Know: the bribery was Laura and Owen obviously #Noor Ashraf has never done anything wrong in her entire life; she's just confused by Aunty nomenclature #zainab does ask meme things #my fic #Anonymous #the BAFTA bait cricket centric sports drama of my dreams

[firstelevens]

Now that it's an option, QUEEN'S THIEF! Or your Desi OCs again (Diwali was last week if you want a prompt...).

“I hope you know I’ll be dedicating that fibula pin before the week is out.”

The queen of Eddis does not bat an eyelash as her cousin slips through her window, though she does cast a cursory eye over him for any injuries -- not that he’s likely to let Galen have a look at them, anyway.

The pin is hideous, really, but it’s worth it for Gen’s disgusted face when Helen breezily says, “I think it’s my new favorite.”

------

They don’t have a wedding reception so much as a party in the Ashrafs’ garden with a playlist that leans heavily on the discography of Carly Rae Jepsen. Still, Farhan thinks, as he kisses the side of Laura’s head, it’s difficult to imagine anything marring this deep sense of peace and contentment.

Conveniently, this is when Noor and Ajay emerge from the house, carrying objectively too many already-lit sparklers -- “We had some left over from Diwali,” offers Divya, apologetic -- but before Farhan can tell his daughter not to set her hair on fire, Laura is tossing a spare hair tie at Nik, who catches it one-handed and pulls Noor’s hair into a significantly-less-flammable ponytail and the potential crisis is averted.

#anon idk who you are but I want you to know that I LOVE YOU #also you really played to my vanity here and it worked #here's two fics XOXO #zainab does ask meme things #Anonymous #my fic #The Queen's Thief #the BAFTA bait cricket centric sports drama of my dreams

[firstelevens]

alternatively, ajay/divya, "instagram"

As soon as he reappears, Divya is making grabby hands at the slightly-precariously-balanced tray that he carries. She snatches up the bowl of ice cream the second that it’s within reach, spoon halfway to her mouth before Ajay’s even sat down on the couch.

“Straight in on the ice cream,” he says, shaking his head, “and without even bothering to Instagram my hashtag-boyfriend-goals sundae assembly.”

“Because naturally, the best way to keep this relationship quiet is for me to post a hundred pictures of you bringing me ice cream,” Divya says flatly.

“Consider the following,” Ajay says, stealing a spoonful of ice cream from her bowl in spite of the fact that he has his own. “If I don’t get a set amount of validation from strangers on a daily basis, I will shrivel up and die.”

She rolls her eyes at him, but she does let him have another bite of her sundae before snatching it away, so he figures that she can’t be that exasperated.

#okay is this three sentences? no. but can the first three sentences be read on their own? YES #so I have decided that that COUNTS #this is a late season 2 joint in case u were wondering Phil #these two really fulfilled the idiots-to-lovers arc except that at the end they're both still idiots #zainab does ask meme things #my fic #philtstone #the BAFTA bait cricket centric sports drama of my dreams

[firstelevens]

ALTERNATIVELY alternatively, farhan and noor, "heffalump"

“We’re only going to be gone five weeks, Noorie; you can’t take all your toys,” Farhan says, catching a Mike Wazowski plushie half a second before it hits him in the face.

Noor sighs, put-upon and world weary at the tender age of eight, and says, “I know, Baba, that’s why I’m looking for the most important one.”

She basically falls into her toy chest before she finds it, but eventually emerges victorious and holding it aloft: a threadbare stuffed heffalump, gifted to a two year old Noor by Uncles Jay and Des and subsequently toted around literally everywhere for the next two years of her life.

(And of course Farhan cries when he sees it, but he texts Ajay and Des a picture of Noor hugging it and they both admit to tearing up, too, so...at least he’s not alone.)

#hello I too am crying so Farhan u r not alone #also in case u guys were wondering Noor Ashraf is EMPHATIC and ELOQUENT and honestly all of her speech is in italics #Phil is an angel for being so enthusiastic about my original work #and for pushing me to write kidfic which is always a good exercise #zainab does ask meme things #philtstone #my fic #the BAFTA bait cricket centric sports drama of my dreams

[firstelevens]

for the ask game: 4 (because the world deserves to know), 10, and 14 bestie

4. Do you have any OCs? Do you have a story for them?

I feel like this question is asking about OCs for an existing fandom, since this list revolves around fic, but I know what you're after so:

I do have a group of particularly cherished OCs, being the players and friends/family of a fictional cricket team from the inspirational sports drama that I dream of writing. They are the blorbos from my brain, if u will, and there are some bits of writing related to them tagged "the BAFTA bait cricket centric sports drama of my dreams."

14. Write and share the first sentence of a new fic. Just that.

phil why

The gas station fluorescents are somehow too weak and too bright against the dark that stretches on around him, and the butterscotch clutched in his palm feels strangely weighty.

#yes I cheated yes this is the first line of a fic that has haunted me for months #thank u for the questions Phil LOVE U #zainab does ask meme things #philtstone