#american futbol

[chelseajackarmy]

[avalentina]

Love's Booked Part 1 📖

Image Not Mine

Warnings: None that I can think of. Some kissing, a bit of angst, but mostly cute fluff.

Word Count: 3.6k

I’m grabbing another box of reshelves when the little chime above the door of Rose’s Books dings. My grandmother used to call me her little rose and it was her who fueled my love of books. When I get out from the storeroom, a young guy about my age is wandering around looking at everything. He looks like he just finished an early evening run. His short hair has these adorable natural curls to it and when his amazing brown eyes meet mine, the box slips from my hands and thumps to the floor, landing on my foot.

“Merda, ouch.” I yelp as he rushes over with a shy smile on his face and grabs the box. Easily hoisting it onto the nearby counter.

“Is your foot okay?” He asks with an American accent and my stomach erupts in butterflies.

“It’s not the first time and it won’t be the last. Bruised toes tend to happen when you own a bookstore.”

“Oh, you own this place? It’s cozy, I like it.” He says, that shy smile back.

“Thank you.”

“I take it you’re Rose?” He asks.

“Well technically my name is Y/N, Rose is a nickname from my best childhood memories, so it seemed fitting. But anyways, did you just come in to browse or are you in need of a specific title?” I ask, shaking myself out of the daze and back into sales mode.

“I was hoping you had a copy of The Sorcerer’s Stone. I lost mine.” He says sheepishly.

“I don’t have The Sorcerer’s Stone, but I do have The Philosopher’s Stone.” I say with a knowing smile.

“I keep forgetting it has a different name in the U.S.” He says and we fill the short walk over to its shelf with talk about Potter. I hand him the book and our fingers brush as he takes it from me.

“All set then, or do you need some time to browse?” I ask, hoping he opts for the latter option.

“I think I will take a peek around if that’s okay?”

“Of course,” I nod. “Can I get you anything to drink? I’m a firm believer that a good book is always better with a comforting drink.” I’ve got a little setup of some espresso, tea options, water, lemonade, and my favorite apple cider behind the register station.

“Maybe just a small lemonade.” He says and I grab him one before going back to my shelving. As I go around the shop reshelving I feel the weight of his eyes on me from time to time and can’t help but take quick glances over at him as well. He’s just so pretty to look at.

I hear the door chime again, as my best friends and business partners Livia and Nico come in to help me close up the shop. Nico grabs his first box and starts reshelving before setting it aside and rushing back over.

“Y/N why is Christian Pulisic in the shop right now?” He asks me and I guess he’s referring to the cute guy with brown eyes.

“He needed a new copy of Philosopher’s Stone. What’s wrong with that?”

“He's Christian Pulisic, one of the new signings for AC Milan.

“So he’s a footballer?” I ask.

“One of the BEST footballers ever. I bought his jersey to wear to games as soon as the transfer was finalized.”

“Okay Nico, breathe, he’s also a normal human being. Why don’t you do the reshelves in the kids section and I’ll finish your area.”

“Would it be a bad time for me to get his autograph?”

“Of course not, happy to chat with a fan.” The guy who I guess is kind of a big deal says to Nico with a genuine smile and extends his hand so Nico can shake it.

“Ciao. È un piacere conoscerti di persona. Sei incredibile. Adoro quando fai scivolare la palla tra le gambe di un altro giocatore, penso che tu la chiami nutmeg, comunque è così bello.” Nico says in rapid fire Italian.

“I'm going to be honest. I have no idea what you just said. I recognized nutmeg but that's about it.”

“Not to worry Christian, I can translate Nico for you. He said, “Hello. It’s nice to meet you in person. You’re amazing. I love it when you slip the ball through another player’s legs, I think you call it a nutmeg, anyway it's so cool.” I say. “Nico just has a tendency to get all of his rushed thoughts and ramblings out in Italian. It's a lot easier.”

“That makes sense. Maybe all I need is an Italian tutor.” He says, looking at me with that shy smile.

“Oooh, Y/N would be amazing at that. After all, she is half American.” Livia chimes in, having finished her round of reshelves.

Christian raises an eyebrow and my face flushes as I explain. “My father was on vacation in Florence when he met my mother who was on holiday there with her friends.”

“Her parents are the best Italian love story. Boy meets girl, boy falls in love with girl, boy and girl enjoy classic Italian food, boy up and moves to Italy to be with girl.” Livia adds and I bury my face in my hands.

“That's actually adorable.” Christian says. “So what do you say? Will you help me learn Italian?”

“I'll think about it.” I reply.

A little bit later Christian is ready to pay and I ring him up. I scrawl my number on the bottom of his receipt along with a little note while he and Nico talk a bit more.

“Text me when you're ready for your first lesson.” It says and I stick it inside the book before handing it to him.

“Receipt is in the book. They make great bookmarks.” I say as he leaves the store.

Later on that night I've just gotten settled in my apartment above the shop when my phone pings with a new text.

Same time tomorrow? He had texted.

I suppose. We can use the lounge area up the rounded staircase in the shop. I answer.

Christian sends back a thumbs up and I go for a quick shower. As I fall asleep I can't help thinking about his pretty face and shy demeanor. But it's the curls on top of his head that get my stomach tingling.

I get dressed the next morning with him in mind. Wearing a slightly lower cut shirt than normal. It's bright red and I pair it with black dress pants and a gold chain style belt. My sneakers are the only thing I refuse to compromise on.

When Christian arrives he's wearing an identical outfit to yesterday but I notice the AC Milan logo on the zip up this time.

“I take it you had training again today,” I say to him.

He nods and follows me up the rounded staircase in the middle of the shop to the mezzanine style space where we have chairs and a sofa set up for anyone who wants to read a bit while they're in the store.

“So what do you know?” I ask him.

“Well I know that Ciaò means hello, arrivederci is goodbye, and grazie is thank you, but that's about it.” He says and I smile.

“And what do you need to prioritize for learning?” I ask next.

“I'd like to be able to communicate with my team on the pitch.” He answers with that cute shy smile. "After that, anything and everything that will help me with press and media interactions."

“So pass, see, drop, ball, cross, shot, man on, etc.?” I clarify after we share a laugh over press and media interactions.

“Yeah that covers most of them, I take it you know football.”

“I know both world football and American Football. Although I'm still not sure I understand how the latter is classified as football when the only players that touch the ball with their feet are the punter and the kicker. Plus it's not even spherical.” I ramble and he lights up with a huge smile.

“I get it. It is kind of funny.” He chuckles. “So does that mean I'll see you at the San Siro?” he asks and this time it's my turn to laugh.

“Maybe for the derby. But I'll be in black and blue.” I say with a smile.

“Ahh, you're an Inter fan.”

“Which makes you the archenemy.”

“Oh no, whatever can I do to change your mind?” He says jokingly.

It was then I noticed that we'd been slowly leaning in closer to each other and now we were just inches apart.

“Fanculo, baciami.” (Fuck it, kiss me.) I say and close the distance pressing my lips against his for a short moment before pulling away.

“Can I grab you something to drink?” I say in an attempt to get a breather, but before I can get up Christian pulls me back, kissing me again. I can't help but kiss him back.

“That, that was amazing.” He says in a whisper, smiling.

Eventually we both venture back down for waters. On his way out for the night Christian kisses my cheek and I blush like crazy. “See you tomorrow Y/N.” He says as he leaves. You wave goodbye and turn your mind to closing up when Livia interrupts you.

“I saw that.” She says with a giggle and I just smile at her. “And don't you have the day off tomorrow?”

“Yeah, he insisted on taking me for ‘an evening coffee and maybe gelato,’ were his exact words.” I say, a smile forming.

“You're into him! OMG wait until I tell Nico!” Livia exclaims. “He'll be begging for pitch side tickets.”

“Oh good Lord, you're right. You can't tell him, at least not yet, let me have tomorrow and then we can talk.” I tell her.

“Oh sure, make me keep gossip this good from my fiance.” She says back and we both laugh.

-The Next Evening-

I pair my favorite navy blue and gold constellations cold shoulder shirt with light wash flare denim jeans and my Ja 1 Chinese New Year sneakers. My Inter Snake necklace and a light gray leather crossbody bag with my wallet, phone, and sunglasses as my only accessories. Christian meets me just outside the bookstore in a white puma tee with a black logo and jeans.

“Bellissima.” (Beautiful.) He says as I exit.

“Grazie.” I say back with a smile.

“Any suggestions on the best spots around here?” He asks and I nod as we make our way to one of my favorite espresso places.

We arrive and take a seat outside as a waiter comes out to greet us.

“Buonasera, cosa posso offrirvi per questa splendida serata?” (Good evening, what can I get you two on this gorgeous night?) The waiter asks.

“Due espressi e due cannoli, per favore, grazie.” (Two espressos and two cannolis please, thank you.) I respond in rapid Italian. Christian just looks at me wide eyed.

“I ordered an espresso and a cannoli for each of us, the ones here are fantastic.”

“Do they have the Italian doughnut ball things?” Christian asks.

“Zeppola?” I ask him back just to confirm we're on the same page.

“Yeah, those.” He says smiling shyly.

“They should, but if you're on a sweet kick you gotta try the cream cheese Sfogliatelle.” I say back.

“I'm sorry, the cream cheese what?” He asks.

“The Sfogliatelle. Sfol-ya-tel-le.” I have him say it until he gets it. Which is pretty quick. “It's basically a croissant filled with cream cheese. They can also be filled with a custard, or sometimes almond paste.” I explain to him.

“I'm at your mercy here, whatever you like I'm down to try.” Christian says before adding, “Go crazy with it, I'm going to have to try it all eventually.”

When the waiter returns with our espressos and cannolis I order the zeppola and sfogliatelle, as well as a cream puff and a classic tiramisu.

Christian's eyes alight when everything arrives. I can't help but comment on it, “Looks like someone has a bit of a sweet tooth.” I say with a laugh.

“I'm usually more careful with it, but this feels like a good time to just let myself enjoy it since I just have light training and film tomorrow. We play Torino on Saturday, my first game at the San Siro.”

We enjoyed the espressos and pastries with light conversation. Christian told me a bit about his time at Chelsea but was very vague about it. It seemed like a place that frustrated him more than anything. After we finished, Christian insisted on paying even after I offered to split it with him considering what I ordered for us. As we were walking back to the store Christian and I exchanged stories about childhood. When I told him I played football at university on a scholarship he seemed pretty impressed and asked if I ever wanted to go pro.

“No. Towards the end of uni I felt more of the stress, I wasn't playing for fun anymore, I wasn't enjoying myself on the pitch, and I realized I didn't want to lose my love for the game.”

“What position did you play?”

“What didn't I play is the better question. I had really good pitch awareness, I acted as the secondary goalkeeper, but I usually played in the center, whether that was at center back or center mid. Sometimes striker, but I liked center back the best. It was more of a defensive midfield almost, with the way we played, but I got my share of goals and assists and a few clean sheets too.”

“Leftie or Rightie?” He asked and I answered with a proud smile on my face. “Dominant leftie.”

“Impressive.”

“I'm also left-handed but I actually golf and bowl right handed.”

“You bowl?”

“Of course, it's great for grip training. It helps exercise and build the muscles in your fingers, which is good for keepers.”

“Ok, damn, that's actually interesting. I'll have to ask Mike if he bowls.” Christian comments just as we reach the shop.

“Well, this is me.” I say and he shakes his head with a smile.

“You live above the store? Why does that not surprise me at all.”

“It's like the shortest commute to work a person can have and then I have more time with Astra and Aurora in the mornings.” I say and Christian raises a brow. “Come on up, I'll introduce you.”

We go up the back set of stairs inside the building and I unlock my door. Astra my huskydoodle and Aurora my havanese are sitting in their respective beds patiently waiting for me to call them out.

“Okay, are you ready?” I ask Christian. They won't bite him or growl or bark obnoxiously, or anything but they will go beg for all the attention. He nods and I give my girls the signal.

“Ciao Ragazze.” I say. At the mention of their code (hi girls) they come rushing out of their beds towards me for a few nuzzles before they begin their investigation of Christian.

Christian ends up spending about twenty minutes with me and the pups, before heading home to get some sleep. I went about business as usual the next morning, it was shipment day so I had plenty to keep me busy all day. Nico arrived late in the afternoon. He does all the businessy managerial paperwork on Fridays. Livia and I call it his office day. I'm on a quick break when Nico comes and grabs me.

“Someone requested you specifically.” He says as I follow him out to the front.

Christian is standing there in his training kit with a small black gift bag. “Hey you,” he says with a smile.

“Hey yourself, I didn't think you'd be by today.” I replied with a wide smile.

“I brought you something.” He says and goes to hand me the bag when Nico pipes up. “Y/N why don't you and Christian head up to your place, I'll close up the store tonight.” He says and shoos us both up the stairwell that's inside the storeroom. Once we get inside and Astra and Aurora settle, Chris hands me the bag. I pull out a badge style pass to the San Siro which is attached to a black lanyard.

“It’s an all-access pass into the tunnel and the reserved section for the game tomorrow.” Christian explains and I sigh.

“I’m flattered, really, but I can't. I work an open to close at the shop.” I say. I go to hand it back to him when my phone buzzes. “What the hell did you do?” I ask Christian after reading my message.

“I messaged Livia about my idea and she said she'd be happy to cover it for you.” He tells me.

“So is this what happens? We kiss twice, go on one maybe-date, and suddenly my world is supposed to revolve around you? Because I hate to break it to you, but that's not how shit works.” I say back, mildly pissed off.

“Y/N no. I'm sorry, I thought I was doing something nice for you.” He says sadly and suddenly I feel like shit for getting pissy with him.

“I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have said that.” I say. We stand in an awkward silence for about a minute when I break it. “Listen Christian, I wouldn't say no to a second maybe-date or a first official date with you, but I love my job, I love that store, and I have worked way too hard to get it to where it is. It's my livelihood, just like football is yours. I need to be here for the store just like you need to be there for your team.”

“Then you'll let me take you out after the store closes tomorrow?” He asks.

“I'd like that.” I say back.

“I admire your passion and dedication to the store, so I'm sorry if I made it seem like I didn't care. I should've tried to look at it from your perspective.” He apologizes.

“Can we kiss and make up now?” I ask with a sly smile and Christian smiles back before pulling me into him and kissing me sweetly.

“I think I'm going to like having kiss and make up time with you.” He says with a smile. One I happily return. We watch a few episodes of one of my favorite American shows while cuddling on my couch with the dogs. Eventually we both end up hungry, and I pan sear some steak and vegetables, boil some of my favorite fresh pasta and then toss it all together with some granulated garlic, fresh grated parmesan, and a poppyseed vinaigrette. After dividing it into two bowls I rejoin Christian on the couch.

“So, do you prefer Christian or Chris?” I ask him in between a bite of dinner.

“I'm good with either, it's usually Chris during casual conversations like this with my family, friends, and teammates.” He elaborates.

“Noted… Chris.”

After we finish eating, Christian insists on helping me with the dishes. As he's leaving I go to hand him the badge.

“Keep it,” he says. “Just in case you change your mind.” He kisses me soundly and heads out.

I go to head to bed and see the gift bag on the coffee table. I can tell there's more in there just by the way it sits. Sure enough, under a few pieces of tissue paper is the mostly white US National Team jersey. When I pull it out a note falls out.

Y/N,

I was thinking that maybe we could meet in the middle. Seeing as you're half American and all, a US Soccer jersey wouldn't be treason.

-Christian

P.S. if you do feel so inclined and want to wear my club jersey, feel free, I included one of those too.

I set the note aside and pull out the red and black jersey. Flipping it to look at the back I see Pulisic 11 and can't help but smile. I grab the USA one and check its back as well.

“He thinks he's so smooth.” I say to Astra and Aurora. “Va bene ragazze, è ora di dormire.” (Alright girls, sleep time)

Astra and Aurora follow me back to my bedroom. As soon as I open the door they go and jump up. Aurora sprawls out on the pillow that I don't use and Astra curls up right in my spot. I take a quick shower to get rid of the dirt from the day. Once I've got my sleep shirt on I lift the sheets. Astra moves to the other side so I can slip in. Then she scootches back over for snuggles.

When I get up the next morning I glance around the room and my eyes land on the red and black jersey. I text Livia to make sure she's still ok with covering for me. I pull on black skinny jeans, the red jersey, and combat boots. I pull my hair back in a braid, add my sterling silver football long earrings, paint on a dark red lip, and draw my cat-eyes. I grab my crossbody bag and the pass, before stopping in the shop to thank Livia.

“Go get him girl!” She hollers as I leave for the San Siro.

Hope you enjoyed! I'm still working on part 2. It will probably be 3 parts total with an open ending so I can do check-ins in the future.

-Ava

[jessegoatedboys]

Peak Futbol moment

this is the moment where Ismael Kone was honored as the hero of Canada

yellow for thy father and thy son!

[smilefortae]

I love soccer boys.

[feddy-34]

people blaming the us for what happened at the copa final is hilarious considering it's CONMEBOL who hired the security (and was in charge of literally every aspect of the tourney) and the fans who decided it was okay to break into a stadium

[mysticaltastemakerwitch]

Viggo Mortensen, my love. 🥰

[theeminentlyimpractical]

what neurodivergence is it that I have to put down a fanfic for a moment when oh my god it’sHAPPENING.gif? I need to physically shake myself out and get back into it like a football player who’s just been sacked on the third down.

[fanficmemes]

I’m assisting the gym teacher with the soccer unit today, and he starts this off by gathering all the kids and immediately shitting on Spain and Germany’s teams and then talking about whether of not deer meat is good smsnsmmsmsmsmsms what kinda class am i in today 😭

[sports-fandom-polls]

Here's the bracket I came up with. Kind tried to go by popularity to do the seeding. This is just my first go around so it will probably change around next time. Polls will start soon!

[sudaca-swag]

is it time now for people who know nothing of futbol to call uruguays nt the "underdog" like in the last world cup??

[the-acid-pear]

I actually love the fact that i didn't learn what a concussion is until i learnt English and started interacting globally bc like. Do our skull here are just built different or are we just, ignoring the possibility of brain damage?

[chelseajackarmy]

CHRISTIAN PULISIC 🇺🇲

[avalentina]

Love's Booked Masterlist!📖

Image Not Mine.

Preview (892 words)

Main Story

Part 1 (3.6k words)

Check-Ins!

Send me asks, requests, or a direct message if you have anything in particular you want to see with these two!

[abocador-memetic]

[spacepandar]

made these for my dad

[unchartedmusings]

While the game is postponed due to lack of poor planning and abhorrent behavior, my mind began to drift off.

I fucking love being a woman who’s blood runs Amarillo, Azul, Rojo. When I’m asked where I’m from the it’s not possible to reply with a one word answer. “I was born in Florida, but my family is Colombian on both sides.” The part of me that is American just does not encompass enough of my identity to suffice as an answer.

I’m Colombian, my nose mirrors my ancestors that are native to the mountains, plains, and coasts.

I’m Colombian, my hips will find the rhythm in any sound, and my feet will always dance in the direction of accordions, drums, and gritos heridos.

I’m Colombian, mi “cabello indio”just won’t hold in a pony tail, it’s slick like water and prefers to cascade and flow like inky rivers.

I’m Colombian, “Ay Ijoeputa”is an all encompassing expression that is so irresistible and soothing in irritating situations.

I’m Colombian, Panaderias are a beacon to all wandering Colombians. In these portals to the motherland we gather for morning cafecitos, una fria on days when our seleccíon plays, and when we’re craving algo dulce.

I’m Colombian, I may not make it for weeks or months, but if I’m sick I need caldo de pollo, sancocho/ajiaco or un calentado before I wither away. Western medicine just doesn’t cut it.

I’m Colombian, these curves are painted by Botero.

Parces, with my bandeja paisa and Colombiana in hand all there’s left to say is happy game day❤️