#alcaraz grass

[trendnfun]

Wimbledon 2023 LIVE: Reaction after Carlos Alcaraz defeats Novak Djokovic in final for the ages

Carlos Alcaraz defeated Novak Djokovic to win the Wimbledon men’s final, denying the Serbian a fifth consecutive title, in a five-set epic and one of the greatest matches ever played at the All England Club.

Alcaraz fought from a set down in an instant classic to end Djokovic’s winning run in SW19, with the match played across almost five hours of breathtaking drama. Before the final, Djokovic had won 34 consecutive matches at Wimbledon and had not lost on Centre Court since 2013, but Alcaraz overturned history to win his second grand slam title. Djokovic had also won his previous 104 grand slam matches after winning the opening set.

In doing so, the 20-year-old Spaniard brings one of the most dominant eras of tennis history to an end. Alcaraz is the first player outside of the sport’s ‘big four’ of Djokovic, Roger Federer, Rafael Nadal and Andy Murray to win the Wimbledon men’s singles title since 2002. Djokovic has been bidding to join Federer by equalling his men’s record of eight singles titles, but was denied by an inspired Alca...read more

[silentreigns]

Carlos should really consider reevaluating his team. Make some drastic changes. Go big or go home, that's what Sinner did. I do think he will get out of his flop era unlike some people though

[melissa-leaf]

from Getty

[onscarlitos]

stressful jannik match, carlitos losing, and ons losing the first set (but now up in the second)

what is in the air ??

[charlitosalcaraz]

LONDON, ENGLAND - JUNE 25: Carlos Alcaraz of Spain celebrates with the winner's trophy after victory in the Men's Singles Final match on Day Seven of the cinch Championships at The Queen's Club on June 25, 2023 in London, England.

(Photo by Julian Finney/Getty Images)

[partybarty]

[thejuniorage]

Discover the thrilling journey of Wimbledon 2023, where the world's top tennis players showcased their skills, determination, and resilience in pursuit of the coveted Grand Slam title.

[lecheconazucarrr]

CHILDHOOD BEST FRIENDS - CARLOS ALCARAZ

Summary : They had been inseparable since childhood—Carlos and her. Best friends. A duo that always found their way back to each other, no matter where life took them.

But as the years passed, their lives changed. Carlos became a star and she stayed behind, watching as he rose higher, as more people claimed him, as the space between them grew. Still, he always came back. But the truth was undeniable: They weren’t kids anymore.

Warnings : none ?

“We’re friends”

She had been saying it since she was eight years old. Since the first time her mother raised an eyebrow at the way she and Carlos gravitated toward each other at every family gathering. Since her best friends in school teased her when he slung an arm around her shoulder, his fingers idly playing with the strands of her hair. Since the first time she realized that the way her heart stuttered when he laughed wasn’t normal.But none of that mattered, because they were just friends.

And maybe if she said it enough times, it would always be true…

She met Carlos the way you meet someone who’s supposed to change your life—by accident. It was on the clay courts of their childhood, two kids too small for their oversized rackets, trying to play a game neither of them fully understood. She had been there with her older brother, watching as he hit with his coach, when she spotted another boy, alone at the next court, swinging at imaginary balls, she was curious.

“You don’t have anyone to play with?” she had asked, standing just outside the fence.

The boy—Carlos, she later learned—looked up, his face flushed from the heat.

“Not today,” he admitted, dropping his racket to his side.

“I can play with you.” She said.

Carlos blinked at her, then grinned. “You any good?”

She puffed out her chest, trying to look confident even though she wasn’t sure herself. “Better than you.” Carlos laughed big and loud, the kind of laugh that made her want to hear it again and picked up a ball.“We’ll see about that.” That was the start of everything.

Carlos became a permanent fixture in her life after that day. She didn’t remember when, exactly, but soon, he was at her house as often as he was at his own, feet kicked up on her couch, raiding her fridge like he belonged there. They spent summers biking to the courts, challenging each other to best-of-three sets under the blistering sun, collapsing into the grass when they were too exhausted to move.

“You cheat,” she had accused once, lying flat on her back, arms spread wide.

Carlos, beside her, let out a breathless laugh. “I don’t cheat. I’m just better than you.”

“Liar!” She yelled. He turned his head to look at her, a teasing glint in his eyes. “You love me anyway.” She had rolled her eyes, shoving his shoulder. “Shut up.”

But later that night, staring at her ceiling in the dark, she thought about what he had said. She didn’t love him, obviously. They were just kids. Just friends. But she did know one thing: Carlos was hers. And back then, that was enough…

Then they grew up. And things got complicated. At first, it was subtle changes so small she almost didn’t notice. Carlos started training more, his talent turning from a childhood dream into something real. The wins came faster, the tournaments bigger. He spent less time in Murcia, more time traveling, always leaving, always coming back. And she tried not to care. But the first time he left for a full summer his longest stretch away from home yet she had felt the absence like an ache in her chest. When he finally returned, sun-kissed and grinning, she had expected things to go back to normal. They didn’t. Because suddenly, Carlos wasn’t just Carlos anymore. He was Carlos Alcaraz. The golden boy. The rising star. The one everyone wanted to know.

And for the first time in their lives, she wasn’t sure if she was enough…

“What’s wrong with you?” Carlos had asked one night, the two of them lying on his childhood bed, staring at the ceiling like they used to when they were kids.

“Nothing,” she had said.

“Liar.” She sighed, rolling onto her side to face him. He looked different these days—more mature, sharper around the edges, but still Carlos, still hers.

“You’re always gone,” she admitted quietly. “It’s weird. We used to hang out together every time but now we barely talk through the phone”.

Carlos frowned, turning his head to meet her eyes. “I always come back, don’t I?”

“Yeah,” she murmured. “But for how long?”

For a moment, he didn’t answer. Then, softly: “As long as you want me to.” She wanted to believe him. But deep down, she knew that nothing gold can stay.

Of course Carlos always came back. But it was never for long. As the years passed, his name became bigger, his wins more frequent. The world started to claim him in ways she never could. And even though he always texted, always called, always found his way back to her when the tour was over, something had shifted. Because for the first time in her life, she realized that she wasn’t the center of his world anymore. And she didn’t know how to handle that. She told herself she was being dramatic. That the hollow feeling in her chest when he talked about new friends, new cities, new experiences was just change, nothing more. That it was normal for things to evolve, for childhood friendships to stretch and bend with time. But then there were moments small, fleeting moments that made her question everything. Like when he came back from New York after his first Grand Slam win, and instead of celebrating, he found her first. Showed up at her apartment unannounced, grinning like a kid, eyes still bright from the adrenaline of victory.

“You did it,” she had whispered, staring at him in awe, pride swelling in her chest.

“We did it,” Carlos corrected, pulling her into a hug so tight it knocked the air out of her lungs.

She wanted to stay in that moment forever. But forever never lasted with him. Because the next morning, when she woke up, he was gone again. She was used to missing Carlos but she wasn’t used to sharing him. And suddenly, it felt like she was sharing him with everyone. With the press, with the fans, with beautiful girls who draped themselves over him in pictures, their hands lingering on his arm like they had a right to be there. And maybe they did. After all, it wasn’t like he was hers. Not really. But God, did it feel that way sometimes. Especially when he would come back to Murcia, back to her, and act like nothing had changed. Like they were still kids, like she was still the only one who really knew him. Like she was special. And she let herself believe it…

She always thought that The parties were the kind of place where people lost themselves. Laughter and music pulsed through the walls, the air thick with the scent of expensive perfume and something bitter in red plastic cups. Outside, the infinity pool shimmered under the soft glow of garden lights, the surface occasionally disrupted by splashes and careless laughter. She never liked these parties. Too many strangers. Too many people pretending to be something they weren’t. But Carlos had asked her to come.“It’s just one night,” he’d said, grinning like he always did when he wanted something. “It’s been forever since we’ve gone out together.” And that was the thing about Carlos—he made it sound so simple. Like nothing had changed. Like he hadn’t spent the past year chasing titles in places she’d only ever seen on a map. Like she hadn’t been waiting for him to come home, only to realize that home wasn’t the same anymore. She should have said no. But she didn’t. Because when it came to Carlos, she never did.

At first, the party wasn’t so bad. She stuck to the edges of the party, sipping on something too sweet, listening to half-conversations while Carlos moved through the crowd like he belonged there. Which, of course, he did. She watched as he laughed, clapped a friend on the back, let some stranger take a picture with him like it was nothing. She used to think he belonged to her. Now, she knew better. But it was fine. She was fine. Until she saw her. She wasn’t sure what made her look, maybe it was instinct, the way her body was always attuned to Carlos even when she tried to pretend it wasn’t. Or maybe it was the way the energy in the room shifted, just slightly, the way people started paying attention. Either way, the second she saw them (him) everything else faded. Carlos was standing near the bar, head tilted toward a girl who was laughing, one hand resting lightly on his arm.

She was gorgeous, the kind of gorgeous that didn’t require effort. Tall, dark hair cascading in effortless waves, lips painted a perfect shade of red. She leaned in close when she spoke, her fingers grazing his wrist as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, her smile slow and knowing. And Carlos—he was letting her. No, worse. He was smiling back.

Not the casual, distracted grin he threw at fans, or the playful smirk he gave when he was being cocky. This was different. Softer. Slower.

Like he meant it. And something inside her cracked. It wasn’t jealousy. At least, that’s what she told herself. It wasn’t like she had a right to be jealous. Carlos had never been hers. Not in the way that mattered. But then why did it feel like her lungs had collapsed? Why did it feel like someone had reached inside her chest and squeezed? She tore her gaze away, forcing her hands to steady around her drink.

“You good?”

She blinked, startled, turning to see one of their mutual friends watching her with a knowing look. “Yeah,” she lied, her voice steady. “Just hot in here, I need air.”

The friend didn’t look convinced, but didn’t push. And she took that as her cue to leave.

The night air hit her skin like a slap. She welcomed it. Welcomed the sharp cold, the silence, the way she could finally breathe. She didn’t know how long she stood there, staring out at the city lights, gripping the edge of the balcony like it was the only thing keeping her upright. Her heart was still racing. Which was stupid. Because this wasn’t new. Carlos was Carlos. He had always been magnetic, always drawn attention, always had people falling at his feet. She had seen it before. She had ignored it before. So why did tonight feel different? Why did it feel like something irreversible had just happened? Why did it feel like she was losing something she never even had?

“There you are.” His voice was soft, familiar.

She stiffened.

For a second, she considered pretending she hadn’t heard him. But it was Carlos. And ignoring him had never been an option. She exhaled, turning slowly to face him. He was standing in the doorway, hands shoved in his pockets, expression unreadable.

“You disappeared,” he said, stepping closer.

She shrugged. “Needed some air.”

Carlos frowned, his eyes scanning her face like he could see something she didn’t want him to. “You sure you’re okay?”

God, she hated him.

Hated how easily he could see through her. Hated how much he still cared. Hated how badly she wanted him to.

“I’m fine, Carlos.” She said. He didn’t look convinced. But he didn’t push. And maybe that was the worst part, because a long time ago, he would have. And now? Now, he just stood there, watching her like he wanted to say something but didn’t know how. And she? She just smiled. Because if there was one thing she had learned from being Carlos Alcaraz’s best friend, it was this— If she wanted to survive, she had to pretend.

Even when it hurt,

especially when it hurt.

N/A : it’s my very first time writing something on this app lmaooo, so be kind <3

[thegirlamongthestars]

stolen glances - c. alcaraz

summary: a journalist’s professional facade crumbles when tennis star Carlos Alcaraz locks eyes with her, igniting an unexpected and thrilling connection

word count: 1.4k

warnings: none (maybe a little of light swearing); english is not my first language so sorry for any posible mistake

notes: feel free to make any Carlitos fic request 😌

The atmosphere at the court was ectic. As a journalist and as a tennis fan, of course, I’ve always loved Wimbledon. The grass, the people, the fashion and London itself were always a delight to witness. Covering the tournament final was definitely the biggest achievement of my career so far. When I was a little girl, I found tennis matches the most boring thing in the world. But when my father took me to a court and I could feel the rush through my veins I realized it would accompany me for life. Journalism has been my vocation since I can remember, so now being able to mix that and tennis was like living my life dream every day.

“Are you ready?” my colleague asked while checking everything. “They are about to come out”

“All set, Lucas”

The speaker started to announce Novak’s entrance and my fingers started playing with the lanyard of my press pass as a way to channel the nerves. It wasn’t my first time doing this but it always felt different when it involved him.

Carlos Alcaraz—the name that had become synonymous with raw talent and unyielding passion in the tennis world. I had followed his career closely (since I was in university), watching him evolve from a promising junior to a formidable force on the court. But it wasn’t just his skill that captivated me; it was the way he played with every ounce of his being, his intensity almost palpable even from the stands.

Did I have the most teenager-like stupid crush on Carlos? Maybe (actually resounding YES, but I would never admit it out loud)

The second his name was called, the stadium erupted. And then, there he was, striding onto the grass with that signature mix of confidence and focus, his presence commanding the attention of everyone in the stands. My breath caught in my throat as I watched him wave to the crowd, one of his characteristic smiles playing on his lips.

“Remind me to bring a baby bib next time” Lucas started to mock me.

“Shut up!” I slapped his shoulder with all my force and he laughed looking at me as if he knew my little secret.

“It’s going to be a good one” he referred to the match changing the previous topic.

I nodded, trying to compose myself. “Definitely.”

But as much as I tried to focus on the task at hand, I just couldn’t do it. This wasn’t just another match; this was the final, and Carlos was one step away from his second Wimbledon title. And for some inexplicable reason, that fact made my heart race in a way that had nothing to do with the excitement of the sport.

As both of them warmed up, I busied myself with checking my notes, adjusting my computer, anything to keep my mind from wandering too far. But it was no use. My gaze kept drifting back to Carlos, to the way he moved with such precision and grace, every muscle in his body flexing and looking irresistible.

There was a certain magnetism to him, something that drew me in despite my intention of keeping professionalism. I had been around athletes before, had interviewed a bunch of them, but Carlos was something else.

For being London it was a quite warm afternoon but what I didn’t know was that the heat won’t be the thing raising my heart rate wildly. As Carlos walked to his position on the baseline, his gaze landed on the press box and his eyes lingered on mine for the briefest of moments.

Electricity.

That’s what went through my body from head to toe. My breath hitched. It was a split second, but in that instant, it felt like the rest of the world faded away.

“What the hell was that”? Lucas whisper-shouted, nudging at me.

“Don’t know what you mean” I answered, trying to play it off, though my pulse was still thudding in my ears.

“He looked right at you,” he said, a knowing smirk on his face.

“It was probably just a coincidence,” I muttered, though even as I said it, I wasn’t sure I believed it.

But there was no time to dwell on it. The match was starting, and I had a job to do. I forced myself to focus on the game, on the back-and-forth of the rally, on the cheers and gasps of the crowd. Yet, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t stop thinking about that look, about the way his beautiful eyes had seemed to search for mine in that sea of faces.

The match ended with the result I was so heartedly waiting for. After the trophy ceremony, journalists had to go down the court to make some interviews in front of the whole crowd and Lucas was the one chosen for that task. We tossed a coin before the match and my luck was conspicuous by its absence once again.

When we arrived next to the players, I was a bundle of nerves and I wasn’t even the one interviewing them so I thanked the coin. The cameras were being set and our sound operator was about to put the microphone on Lucas.

“I’m not feeling well at all” he started to pull on his shirt collar trying to fan himself.

“Are you getting dizzy?” I grabbed him by the shoulders to steady him.

He looked at me with something like guilt on his gaze and pull me close to him to say “He’s all yours”

I wasn’t processing anything. I just saw Lucas winking at me and getting accompanied to the dressing room tunnel by a member of the staff.

Next thing I knew is that I was in front of the camera and that the crowd was cheering on Carlos as he approached me.

Electricity again.

He showed me one of his full smiles and grabbed the microphone that someone from my crew was handing him.

“Carlos, congratulations” I exclaimed truly thrilled while offering my hand. “Two-time Wimbledon champion. How does that feel?”

“Thank you” he replied, holding my hand for longer than expected. “It feels… pretty amazing, to be honest. Maybe even sweeter than the first.”

“Because you knew what to expect?”

“Exactly” he said, leaning closer. “The first time, it was all new—adrenaline, excitement, maybe a bit of shock. This time, I could really soak it in, enjoy the moment”

“It looked like you were enjoying it, even during those tense moments in the final set” I was trying to be as professional as the heat I was sensing right from him allowed me to. "How do you keep your cool when the pressure’s on?"

“Honestly? I just remind myself that it’s only a game” he said with a shrug, a relaxed grin playing on his lips. “And sometimes, a little bit of stubbornness helps.”

“Stubbornness?” I raised an eyebrow, totally getting captivated by his proximity.

“Yeah, I hate losing” he admitted and the crowd laughed with him. “But it’s also about enjoying the battle. I love the competition, the challenge. That’s what keeps me going.”

I nodded, noting that he seemed as much at ease as me. “And now that you’ve won here twice, what’s next? A well-deserved break?”

“A little bit, yeah. Maybe a beach somewhere” he said, his eyes lighting up. “But you know how it is—tennis doesn’t stop. And the Olympics are almost around the corner.”

I completely went out script with the following question but as a professional, I was feeling in such a safe environment that I had to let my impulses flow.  

“Ever think about doing something completely different? Outside of tennis, I mean?” I raised my gaze to his face just to find out that he was already looking at me. Quiet intensely.

He looked thoughtful for a moment, then flashed me a cheeky grin. My knees trembled a little.

“Well, I was thinking… maybe I should find more excuses to do interviews like this. They’re turning out to be more interesting than I expected.”

I felt a warmth spread through my chest at his words, catching the subtle, playful edge in his tone. And I couldn’t help but blush because of the reaction of the people on the stands, that was a mixture of surprise sounds and cheeky whistles.

“Interesting, huh? I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Definitely meant as one”

[melissa-leaf]

[cieloclercs]

Okay so abt that Carlitos request maybe she’s in the crowd next to his mum and after a win at Wimbledon (maybe he’s the final winner 🤭) her and his family go down on the pitch to celebrate (kind of in the way footballers do it) and he just kisses her instantly and that’s the moment everyone finds out abt their relationship but the fans love it and maybe then they go on a vacation in Spain or smth like that 🫶🏻 thanks again for being open to write for him and have a good day!!

PS: if you find good fics with him please do tell where 😅

-🪷

hello! hope you enjoy this <3

p.s i found two really awesome carlitos fics you should check out! wimbledon shenanigans by @yungbludz and this blurb by @2manytabsopen

word count. 2.3k

read under the cut!

𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐞𝐨́𝐧 | carlos alcaraz

THE DAY HAS finally arrived: one you’ve had circled in your calendar for weeks, almost as a manifestation that you’ll get to watch it not just as a neutral spectator, but as someone with a true stake in the outcome. The Wimbledon Final. A certain classic, the commentators all say. They’re sure, that no matter who wins, it’s going to be a match for the history books. The current world number one versus arguably the greatest tennis player of all time. Carlos Alcaraz versus Novak Djokovic.

You’re on the edge of your seat from the moment the first serve is taken. It almost feels as if you’re down there on the court, playing the match yourself. The nerves thrumming inside your very veins are enough for it to seem that way. Carlos’ mother is seated to your right, just as tense as you are, gripping the edge of her chair with white knuckles. You reach down to pat her hand reassuringly, partly for her, but mostly for you. Appearing so calm, so certain Carlos is going to do what he does best and win this match helps to quell your own nerves. Even if it’s a façade.

He's worked so hard to get here, you can’t even imagine the agony if he falls short now. So many have put their expectations on him, as this new, rising talent, pegging him to become the next Nadal; it’s a lot for anyone to deal with, but it amazes you how Carlos simply takes it into his stride. He’s inexperienced on grass compared to his competitor (or rather, inexperienced on every surface – this is Novak Djokovic we’re talking about, after all), yet even against those with years and years of tournament experience haven’t been able to beat him. No matter whether it seems the odds are stacked against him or not, Carlos always believes in himself. So you believe in him too. You know in your heart, this may seem like a mountain to climb, but if anyone can reach the summit, it’s him.

There’s a second story running alongside this one, however, and it involves you. Though you’ve been able to call the world number one your boyfriend for almost six months now, the world is yet to know about your relationship. As someone who hasn’t exactly been shielded from the public eye yourself, you both decided it would be healthier to keep everything private while you navigated the early stages of your relationship. Now, you’re both happier than you ever have been, and it feels as though you’re drawing nearer to the big announcement.

Attending Carlos’ match with his family is the first big step. From the moment you sat down with them in their box, you could feel the eyes on you; sense the whispers rippling around the court like shockwaves. Everyone knows who you are, of course – Spain’s golden girl, the child acting star turned Oscar winner at only twenty years of age. You’re a household name not only in your country, but across the whole world. To see you here, spending time with the family of your equivalent in the tennis world, is huge news. This isn’t just a case of some celebrity outing for the day, making an appearance in a private box; this is you sitting with Carlos’ family, laughing with his mother and doting on his little brother. You’re clearly more involved than the average celebrity – the big question on everyone’s lips is how involved?

For the moment, you ignore the masses of eyes on you. You’re here to see Carlos play first and foremost, not answer the newly emerged dating rumours which seem to be spreading like wildfire across social media (it’s barely even been half an hour – the fans sure do catch on quick). All you care about is cheering him on until he emerges victorious, lifting that coveted Wimbledon trophy high into the air. And with each point won that puts him just ahead of his opponent, you feel everything drawing closer to the inevitable end: Game, set, match – Carlos Alcaraz. It takes an excruciating four and three quarter hours of back and forth, but eventually, the dream becomes reality. Championship point won. He drops to the floor with a gasp just as you shoot up from your seat, arms flailing in the air, screaming until your throat is raw. Carlos Alcaraz is the winner of the 2023 Wimbledon Championship.

You’re not even sure it’s allowed when you and his family rush down onto the court, but in that moment, you honestly couldn’t care less. He’s shaken hands with Djokovic, who for once, doesn’t look ashamed to have been beaten – he recognises a worthy champion when he sees one. Then, after doing the same with the umpire, he turns to face his approaching family. The grin you love so much breaks out across his face. You know how important they all are to him. Having them here to witness this no doubt makes it even sweeter.

For a moment you hang back, watching as his father pats him proudly on the back, and his mother holds nothing in reserve by pulling him down to press a loving kiss to his cheek. He spins his little brother around in the air excitedly, and you hear Jaime’s giggles from where you’re standing a few feet away. You’re happy to just watch them for a while, a fond smile playing on your lips. They truly are the most idyllic family. You count yourself lucky to know them as well as you do, and perhaps even one day to be accepted as one of them by Carlos’ side. But you push those thought away, wanting to remain in the present. Right now, you couldn’t be more proud of your boyfriend. Your heart sings with joy for him and his incredible achievement. You’ve always known he is special, but now the rest of the world knows it just as certainly as you do.

It isn’t long before Carlos turns his attention away from his family, searching for you amongst the crowd. You aren’t far away, grinning back at him shyly. You’re aware of the crowd around you, conscious that they are no doubt watching his every move, but when you lock eyes, that doesn’t seem to matter anymore. He closes the distance between you in four short strides, and before you know it, his arms are wrapped around you, lifting you high up into the air as he spins around. You’re laughing gleefully, arms looped securely around his neck as if they belong there. When he sets you down again everything is quiet, despite the crowd still cheering his name.

"Estoy muy orgullosa de ti.” I’m so proud of you. You murmur, hands placed on either side of his face. You eyes are filled with nothing but love and admiration as you gaze up at him. You can see it mirrored back at you in his own.

"No podría haberlo hecho sin ti, mi amor.” I couldn’t have done it without you, mi amor. He replies tenderly. Though you know it’s not strictly the truth. Everyone needs love and support from those they care for the most to get them through the difficult times, but Carlos Alcaraz was born to be a star. He was always going to make it this far – it’s just something you can’t argue with, a little like fate. Still, it’s nice to feel like you had a part to play in that. You are important enough to him to matter in a time like this. That’s the special thing.

"Te quiero, campeón.” I love you, champion. You tell him with a teasing giggle. He seems to light up at the nickname, chest puffing out with pride.

"Yo también te quiero.” I love you too. He murmurs. His hands cradle either side of your face, and when he glances down at your lips, you know exactly what he’s asking. The crowd’s focus is still very much on the two of you, but despite all the efforts you’ve gone to hide your relationship, right now, you don’t care. The subtlest of nods tells him all he needs to know. Carlos dips his head down, capturing your lips in the sweetest kiss you’ve ever known. You think the crowd are cheering; you can hear some whistles, muffled into the background. None of it matters. All you care about is when he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you impossible close – so close you can feel his heartbeat against your own chest.

Even when he pulls away, the spell isn’t broken. There’s something about sharing in the joy of the man you love that simply makes everything else fade away. Carlos looks down at you, his eyes so soft, shining so brightly they could have held the entire universe for all you knew. In a way, he’s thanking you. You’re not sure what for at first, because he’s made it here of his own merit. But then it hits you. Carlos is a simple man. He’s simply thanking you for being here, to celebrate the greatest moment of his life alongside him and his family. At the end of the day, it’s what he cares about most – his family. The look he gives you now is as much confirmation as you’ll ever need. He considers you to be a part of it. Maybe not in name (not yet, anyway), but in heart, in spirit, you mean just as much to him.

Finally, when you’re both returned to reality, he relaxes his grip around your waist, turning to wave at the crowd, shooting them a cheeky wink (which you just know will be all over social media within the next few hours). You can’t help but laugh. Someone calls his name: it’s time to prepare for the presentation, they tell him. He turns back to look at you with a dazed grin. You can’t resist pressing one final kiss to his lips before he’s dragged away – your champion, ready to lift that legendary trophy high in the air. No one deserves it more than him, you think. This is what he was born to do.

liked by tennis_wags and 2,637 others

tennisupdates Carlos Alcaraz and newly confirmed girlfriend Y/N Y/L/N, who attended the match with his family, celebrating his Wimbledon victory on centre court ❤️

view all comments…

username so cute 😍

username THE it couple

Two weeks later Majorca, Spain

After the chaos and exposure of Wimbledon, a private beach getaway is exactly what both you and Carlos needed. Days stretch away on the sand, swallowed up by the rolling blue tides, and you think this place must be paradise on earth – or maybe it’s the company that makes everything so perfect. You’ve barely moved from your residence along the private stretch of beach Carlos had splashed out on to make your time together as romantic (and paparazzi-free) as possible. You don’t need to. This is your time to relax, to unwind after Wimbledon; and if you don’t deserve that, Carlos certainly does. You’re simply reaping the rewards.

Both your phones lay face down on the kitchen table inside. You haven’t looked at social media once since the final, and you don’t plan to as long as you’re here. No doubt, all your accounts will be blown up with messages about yours and Carlos’ surprise hard launch, both good and bad. You don’t want to ruin this little paradise you’ve created by getting sucked into the media. So, aside from texting or calling your families in the evenings, both yours and Carlos’ phones remain unused throughout your days together. It’s beyond peaceful. He pledges to do this more often – just be together, without the pressure of social media or the press breathing down your necks.

Sprawled out across the sand, you lay on his tanned chest, running your fingers softly up and down the side of his ribs. He hums contentedly at the sensation. You’re both sleepy, the sun lulling you into a daze. Carlos’ lips find your hair occasionally, kissing away your tiredness. His arms pull you in close, so you can feel the warmth radiating from his skin as much as you can feel it from the sun, or the sand beneath you. This feeling, that blooms in your chest and lights up every part of you, is nothing short of belonging. Even if you both had nothing, if you were talentless, penniless, with no place to call your own, you could claim it with each other. Carlos is the man whose arms you want to lie in every day for the rest of your life. You’re only young, but you know it to be true. He’s the one for you.

"El sol se está poniendo.” The sun’s going down. He soon whispers into the dusk, which has crept up on you in the last few hours. You hum some kind of acknowledgement, but keep your face buried deep into the crook of his neck. He chuckles.

"Vamos, cariño." Come on, baby. Carlos murmurs, pressing a tender kiss to the side of your face, "Vamos a la cama." Let’s go to bed.

You don’t argue with him when he scoops you up into his arms, lifting you up off the still warm sand as you giggle at the way he spins you around. When your feet touch the ground again, you can’t resist kissing him. It’s short and sweet, but he chases you with his lips when you pull away. You feel your heart soar.

Hand in hand, you make your way inside, to the place which has become your own perfect, little solitude. No one can touch you here, so far away from the rest of the world. You both know you’ll have to go back to reality fairly soon, but for that night, it’s the farthest thing from your minds. For now you’re just young and in love, wrapped up in each other, never wanting to leave. It’s the best place you can be, you think. The only place you ever want to be.

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tagged: carlitosalcarazz

yourusername sí, sigo vivo! han sido un par de semanas caóticas en wimbledon, así que hemos decidido tomarnos un tiempo para nosotros mismos antes de que las cosas empiecen a volverse locas otra vez 🫣

a mi campeón - estoy muy orgullosa de ti y de todo lo que has conseguido. nadie se merece esto mas que tu. he visto el trabajo que haces dia y noche para ser la mejor. no ha sido facil, pero que sepas que he creido en ti en cada paso del camino, y seguire creyendo en ti mientras viva. te quiero, carlitos ❤️

yes, i'm still alive! it's been a chaotic couple of weeks at wimbledon, so we've decided to take some time to ourselves before things start to get crazy again 🫣

to my champion - i am so proud of you and all that you have accomplished. no one deserves this more than you. i have seen the work you do day and night to be the best. it has not been easy, but know that i have believed in you every step of the way, and i will continue to believe in you as long as i live. i love you, carlitos ❤️

carlitosalcarazz te quiero siempre / i love you always

yourusername 💕

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tags: @christianpulisic10

requests are open! send something in if you’d like!

[latin5mamii]

Charly with an American gf during July fourth!!🦅🇺🇸

Traditions- Carlos Alcaraz

|WARNINGS:none!Just fluff

|AUTHOR'S NOTE:love our charlie boy!🇺🇸

|SUMMARY:Your boyfriend really likes the traditions of your country...

Your beloved boyfriend, was ready for a break after an intense season. The Fourth of July was the perfect opportunity, and you, had invited him to spend it in your hometown of Austin, Texas. He was eager to experience the holiday and explore the festivities with you.

You waited at the airport, holding a sign that read “Welcome, Charlie!” As soon as he saw you, Carlos’ face lit up, and he hurried over, pulling you into a tight hug.

“¡Hola, mi amor!” he exclaimed, spinning you around. “I’ve missed you so much!”

“Welcome to America, Charlie! Ready for some Fourth of July fun?” you asked, grinning.

“Absolutely! Let’s go!” His eyes sparkled with excitement as he took your hand.

The first stop was a popular food truck park. Charlie looked around in awe at the variety of options.

“This is incredible,” he said, scanning the menus. “What should I try first?”

“Definitely the brisket tacos,” you suggested. “And maybe a sweet tea to wash it down.”

Charlie eagerly followed your lead, and soon the two of you were enjoying a delicious, messy meal on a picnic bench. He took a big bite of his taco and his eyes widened.

“This is amazing!” he exclaimed. “Why don’t we have this in Spain?”

After lunch, you took him to a nearby lake for some kayaking. Charlie was game for anything, his competitive spirit shining through as he paddled ahead, challenging you to keep up. You laughed as he playfully splashed you, and the two of you raced across the water, enjoying the warm Texas sun.

“¡Vamos, cariño! You can’t beat me!” he teased, laughing.

“Oh, we’ll see about that, Charlie!” you retorted, paddling harder.

In the afternoon, you headed to a friend’s rooftop party downtown. Charlie mingled effortlessly, charming everyone with his stories and enthusiasm. He even joined a game of cornhole, quickly picking up the rules and showing off his athletic skills. You couldn’t help but smile, watching him fit in so seamlessly.

“Eres increíble, mi vida,” you whispered as he sank another shot.

He grinned, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “Gracias, mi amor. But you’re the one who makes everything perfect.”

As the sun began to set, you led Charlie to a perfect spot to watch the city’s fireworks. You spread out a blanket on the grass, and he lay down beside you, his head resting on your shoulder.

“Thank you for today,” he said softly, tracing patterns on your arm with his fingers. “I’ve had so much fun.”

“I’m glad,” you replied, squeezing his hand. “The night’s not over yet.”

The fireworks started with a loud boom, and Charlie’s eyes widened with wonder. The sky lit up with vibrant colors, and he turned to you, his face illuminated by the bursts of light.

“This is incredible,” he whispered.

You both lay there, watching the display in comfortable silence. When the finale came, Charlie sat up, pulling you close for a kiss as the sky exploded in a final blaze of color.

Later, back at your place, you sat on the porch with a couple of beers, talking about everything and nothing. Charlie leaned back in his chair, looking relaxed and happy.

“I could get used to this,” he said, smiling at you. “Austin, the Fourth of July, and especially you.”

You laughed. “I’m glad you had a good time. We’ll have to make this a tradition.”

Charlie nodded. “Absolutely. Here’s to many more.”

As the night grew late, you both headed inside, tired but content. Snuggling up on the couch, Charlie wrapped his arms around you, kissing your forehead.

“Te quiero mucho, mi vida,” he murmured, his voice filled with affection.

“I love you too, Charlie,” you replied, feeling the warmth of his embrace.Today was incredible and you couldn't wait to visit Spain with him and know his traditions; in that moment, you wish to stay with him forever because he's the only person that can make your days absolutely perfect.

[mousemannation]

The superpower behind De Minaur's surge [x]

Infosys ATP Beyond The Numbers examines the Aussie's success on return | December 23, 2024 | By Craig O'Shannessy | 📸 Corinne Dubreuil/ATP Tour

Alex de Minaur broke serve at a higher rate than any other player on Tour in 2024.

You hold. You hold. You are broken.

That’s the daunting reality of playing against Alex de Minaur in 2024. The 25-year-old Australian reached a career-high PIF ATP Ranking of No. 6 on the back of breaking serve more than any other player over the past twelve months. An Infosys ATP Beyond The Numbers analysis of his stellar season identifies his superpower as breaking you right around once every three service games.

The leading five players who broke serve the most last season were:

1) Alex de Minaur - 31.6% 2) Carlos Alcaraz - 30.8% 3) Novak Djokovic - 29% 4) Tommy Paul - 28.6% 5) Mariano Navone - 28.5%

De Minaur’s return strategy is straightforward. Against first serves, the Aussie hits over half (55%) of his returns right down the middle third of the court. This clever strategy has a two-fold benefit to start the point. It takes the danger of the singles sidelines out of the equation and also provides no angle for the server to immediately attack him.

Return Direction vs. First Serves

Middle third of the court - 55%

Outer third to the Ad court - 28%

Outer third to the Deuce court - 17%

When returning second serves, De Minaur turns up the heat through the Ad court to the right-hander’s backhand wing.

Return Direction vs. Second Serves

Middle third of the court - 53%

Outer third to Ad court - 34%

Outer third to Deuce court - 13%

De Minaur put 68 per cent of his first-serve returns in the court this season, which is six percentage points higher than the Tour average of 62 per cent. De Minaur put an impressive 91 per cent of second-serve returns in the court, nine percentage points higher than the Tour average of 82 per cent. De Minaur’s consistency and direction weigh heavily on the opponent’s mind when trying to hold serve.

Overall, De Minaur won 33 per cent of his first-serve return points and a dominant 55.9 per cent of second-serve return points this season. Only Alcaraz won more second-serve return points, at 56.1 per cent.

De Minaur also led the Tour in 2024 in break points converted rate at 45.1 per cent. The leading five players over the past twelve months in this category were:

1) Alex de Minaur - 45.1% 2) Daniil Medvedev - 44% 3) Jack Draper - 43.8% 4) Mariano Navone - 43.1% 5) Carlos Alcaraz - 42.7%

It’s interesting to note that De Minaur’s return speed is almost identical to the rest of the players on Tour.

First-serve return speed = 61 mph (Tour average 61 mph)

Second-serve return speed = 73 mph (Tour average 72 mph)

Where De Minaur does win the speed battle is with his feet. He is lightning fast and immediately shrinks the court with his ability to run down so many balls and get his teeth into return games. Overall, he won 41 per cent of his return points in 2024, which powered him to 47 wins on Tour, including titles in ’s-Hertogenbosch (grass) and Acapulco (hard).

De Minaur will start the 2025 season on home soil. He has reached the Round of 16 at the Australian Open in the past three years. A deeper run is on the cards for the improving Aussie.

[fritzes]

Toronto 2023 aka one of the most bizarre tournaments of the entire season

Even Daniil winning Rome has nothing on this chaos:

First, let us take a look at some of the seeds in this tournament. Casper Ruud is the third seed, having just flopped his way through the entirety of grass season and getting bageled in the final of a clay 250. Fourth and fifth seeds are Stefanos Tsitsipas and Holger Rune - we'll get to them later. The tenth seed is Félix Auger-Aliassime, who has only managed to hold onto his spot because most of his points are from the end of the season. For reasons inexplicable to me, Cameron Norrie is the eleventh seed. Borna Coric, holding on to his Cincinnati points, is the fourteenth seed.

In round one, lucky loser Vukic immediately upsets Coric 6-2 6-3. Qualifier Purcell takes out FAA 6-4 6-4. Milos Raonic, given a wildcard into his home tournament, beats tenth seed Frances Tiafoe in a tight match in which there was a ton of drama about what areas of the net it is acceptable to touch and win a point. Speaking of Canadian wildcards, Diallo beats Evans, who had just won Washington the week before. And finally, Alex de Minaur (we'll be seeing a lot of him) beats Norrie in a comfortable 7-5 6-4.

In round two, the top seeds come in and a lot of them immediately head out. Fifth seed Holger Rune, about to enter a massive flop era, loses to qualifier Giron in three sets. Tsitsipas gets crushed by Monfils 6-4 6-3. Vukic continues his run by beating Korda in an extremely close match. With the exact same scoreline as Tsitsipas, sixth seed Andrey Rublev loses to McDonald. Thirteenth seed Zverev is utterly destroyed by Davidovich Fokina 6-1 6-2.

Now into the third round, newly crowned Wimbledon champion Carlos Alcaraz loses the first set to Hubi Hurkacz. And, in true Hurkacz fashion, the next two sets go to tiebreaks, both of which Carlos wins handily. Vukic's crazy run is finally ended by Monfils. And Davidovich Fokina continues to show no mercy to top seeds as he takes out Casper. Now, it seems like Alex de Minaur is down and out, seeing as he is down 1-5 against eighth seed Taylor Fritz. But then he wins a game. And then another. And then another. Yes, he somehow manages to win the set and ends up breadsticking Fritz to win the match.

So into the quarterfinals we go. Carlos Alcaraz's streak, starting all the way at Queen's Club, comes to an end as he loses to the inconsistent roller coaster of a player that is Tommy Paul. Davidovich Fokina just keeps winning and beats McDonald 6-4 6-2. And again, it seems like Alex is done for, down 2-5 against Daniil Medvedev. But what do you know: he wins a game. And another. And another. Alex de Minaur does it again and wins the match in straight sets.

In the semifinals, he keeps his momentum going and beats Davidovich Fokina 6-1 6-3. Amidst all this chaos, Alex de Minaur has pulled off numerous feats of excellence and is surely on his way to a title.

But there's one top seed left.

To say that Jannik Sinner cruised through this tournament is almost an understatement. He only lost one set, and he was gifted a walkover in the third round. Tommy Paul, who just beat Alcaraz? Jannik beats him handily, 6-4 6-4.

Alex's reward for his incredible run is a final against someone he is 0-4 against, an in the near future would be 0-7 against.

Before his miracle run ever sprang from that fateful bin, Jannik Sinner emerged from this insane tournament as the winner. And a few months later, it paled in comparison to everything he would do next.

[sssunflowersmiles]

Carlos alcaraz get your cute ass on a clay court, call up Rafa Nadal and get in shape for clay season because I need you to win everything clay and grass for my sanity 😭