#argentina fan club

[pop-generation]

[unforromass]

Enzo Fernandez asistiendo a Joao Felix

[cant-get-no-worse]

Do you think we'll actually win tho. Like do you really believe this team has a chance or.

I think sport is the easiest, safest way to practice the vertue of relentless optimism because it bears little to no consequence if few boxes are checked. Said boxes to be checked are: has this club alrady smashed your hopes and dreams before? If no, best not hope cause the fall is higher than Barça's debt. If yes, wooo, then it's pessimism out. Pessimism and realism only wish it had the sheer tomfoolery of optimism. Optimism in sport is silly and so funny, even more so when your team has actually already faced tremendous defeats in the past. You think Napoli-Barça can hit me worse than corner taken quickly? You think Napoli-Barça can have me shout STOP THE COUNT before it gets to 8-2? Post-remontada disappointment, Neymar se queda, Liverpool, Bayern, Roma, 2019 UCL run, Messi leaving, mate that club has smashed my optimistic virginity more times than I can count. Boludo I'm NUMB. It's routine by now. I might as well have fun with it. I think we'll win, I think I'm gonna have the time of my life and if we don't eh so what? We'll go for a next round next year. The more we wait for it the more ecsatically beautiful our celebrations will be of it.

[julianalvarez9]

i said the same thing! for one full practice, he played great!

he's simply the best 🫢 golden boy at the wc for a reason ⭐⭐⭐

[bogdanfcb]

[seedlessmuffins]

every time i see european football merch in public it’s a jumpscare because i cannot stress how not popular footie is in canada (except the mens and women’s nt). it’s not unpopular, people just don’t care

[blessedmoonsoul]

after seeing all your mbappe posts i might just start stanning him🏃🏿‍♂️

you're SO real for this....🫶🏽

[neiptune]

to hell with the stars, keep shooting for the moon

cw: 3k wc, female reader, established relationship, suggestive if you squint, reader is a gymnast, my entry for the super fun summer olympics collab by @tetzoro! hope you'll enjoy the little surprise i squeezed in hehe

“For the last time, I’m not having sex with you on one of those cardboard beds”.

Atsumu isn’t the least bit discouraged by your exasperated scowl, which is met with a pout.

“But babe-”

“I don’t care how many times Tobio’s done it, ‘Tsumu” you click your tongue.

“It’s just so fucking bizarre that he gets so much action, the guy doesn’t even do anything! Shoyo agrees, we discussed it and still couldn’t find a reason” the blond, excessively petulant Miya who makes it a point to be the bane of your existence, keeps listing all the reasons why he believes his teammate shouldn’t be getting laid in the olympic village. Or anywhere else ever, for the matter.

The heated arguments float through a distant hemisphere of your brain, where they dissolve before you can quite catch their meaning and soon enough become simple sounds you’re passively absorbing, thoughts too preoccupied with something entirely different.

The choreographies you put together with your trainer have been playing in the back of your mind ever since last night, after the all-around individual qualification round. You are part of the 10 gymnasts with the highest scores, four performances with each apparatus earning a fairly decent ranking and good enough points. Well, they’re certainly good enough, given that you get to represent Japan at the individual final. But you just know they could be better. Your feet should’ve been firmer, hands less sweaty around the clubs, you should’ve stretched for at least 50 minutes prior to the routine instead of the usual 40 ones.

Pulse picks up in pace, heart thrumming faster against your ribcage, dizziness clouds your mind for a moment as different moves chase each other in rapid succession: the penché comes first, then follows the elbow stand, front walkover, one forward roll, a chest stand-

Gentle, calloused fingers grasp your chin and tilt your head upwards in silent demand. Look at me.

“Get out of there and talk to me, sugar” the fondness in his chocolate gaze is a balm that instantly soothes the churning sensation sabotaging your stomach.

“I won’t make it” it’s blunt, raw in its honesty “I’m too scared”.

“Ya worked your ass off the past four years. Your entire life actually”.

“I know”.

“And whatever happens, you’re one of the best ten gymnasts in the world”.

“I know”.

Atsumu gets closer as his hands hold your face now, gentle but firm, an all too familiar flame starts dancing in feverish eyes.

“But?”.

You recognize that gaze, the raging, febrile determination taking over. He gets it on his side of the net, where he gets to run the show. And oh, isn’t that always a sight for sore eyes? It certainly was at the olympics too, when the entire world got to witness what Japan is already used to. The game against Argentina was nothing short of glorious, the way Atsumu coordinated his team’s offense, established the entire tempo and overall built the confidence in his passers had the crowds chanting his name over and over again. By the evening, you’re positive at least a hundred new Miya Atsumu fan accounts had started following you on instagram.

And yet he doesn’t take any of it for granted. Atsumu always gives his very best, at the olympics or during regular training with his friends. Whether Tobio is going to play or not. That passion simply sets his soul ablaze at all times, with no exception. He’s the man you love and the only one who can truly understand how you feel, the one person who is ignited with the same delirious resolve currently burning in the pit of your stomach.

“But I really want that fucking medal” you whisper. Not to prove him that you have it in you just like he does: truth is you’re the only person who needs additional convincing.

Sharp canines make their appearance when Atsumu smiles widely.

“Then go get it. The hell are you scared of? That medal belongs to you”.

Your eyelids flutter as they fall shut, a deep breath filling your lungs with fresh air. When you open your eyes again, you feel your heart filling up with something else too.

“I love you”.

His eyes soften at that, affection pools within crinkles by the eyes as a confident grin morphs into a warm smile.

“Love ya more, champion” Atsumu kisses your forehead with tenderness, lingers for a moment too long with lips pressing to your skin with intention. Then he lets go of your face but not before searching for any remnants of self-doubt. His chest swells with pride when all he can find in your eyes is that determination he adores.

“Will you be there?” you ask because you can’t help it. It’s perfectly understandable that he might not be able to, his schedule is just as busy as yours and Japan’s final game is just two days away. It’s not entirely fair to ask and someone else might’ve rolled their eyes with a sigh, reminded you that they don’t get to decide that. But not Atsumu. He takes one of your hands and brings it to his lips to kiss each knuckle.

“I’ll do everything I can to be there”.

“Thank you” you lightly pinch his nose with an infatuated smile and he fakes a groan “see you later”.

“I love you!” he shouts as you run away, loud and obnoxious and passionate, just like his affection always is. Once again, Atsumu’s love is thrown over your shoulders like a comforting blanket that weighs just right.

Back at the beginning of your relationship, you had to unlearn a very specific thought process that posed the risk of ending something that still hadn’t had the chance to fully start. It was your first time dating another pro athlete, a very talented and quite renowned one no less. You were first introduced to him at a party, he had no idea who you were but of course you were all too familiar with his name and accomplishments.

Miya Atsumu was a pro volleyball player, known for his exceptional flair and fierce passion ever since high school. His reputation made you believe that, as an athlete yourself, you had to prove him that you were just as good in your own sport. Wasn’t that all he’d be interested in? Dating someone who wouldn’t embarrass him with their mediocrity, someone who wouldn’t stain his polished reputation?

Turns out, by no means Atsumu was interested in all that. He asked if it was okay for him to come watch one of your competitions, coincidentally one of your worst ones. You were all too aware of how badly you had competed, nerves and a recent flu contributing to a terrible performance, yet at the end of it Atsumu greeted you with stars in his eyes. He couldn’t stop talking about how elegant yet strong you looked, going as far as describing your choreographies as breathtaking. With a nervous chuckle, he half-jokingly said he couldn’t believe you’d let him date you. 

That’s when you kissed him for the first time, fiery and feverish in a way that would’ve probably scared anyone else off. Not Atsumu, though. He wrapped his arms around you without so much as an ounce of hesitation, kissed you back like it was the last action he was allowed to perform on this earth. And you knew: he didn’t need you to be a winner, to be shiny at all times, to feel proud. To love you. Whether you end up bringing the medal home or not, he will still be your biggest fan and loudest supporter.

The intensity of the crowd doesn’t bother you at all: given your anxious nature, Chisaka-san has been adamant about training you with headphones and loud tapes for years. Music, cheers, booing, clapping, national anthems, you’re used to it all by now.

You observe the ukrainian gymnast, the way she moves so elegantly with her colorful ribbon. It looks like she’s flying, hopping on invisible steps made of air, sparkly leotard catching the light just right. Yours cost a fortune: handmade, sewn in Italy, a triumph of colorful stretch mesh, thermal crystals and sew-on rhinestones in various sizes and shapes.

As Chisaka-san helps you practice the usual deep breaths with a hand pressed to your chest, your eyes are still glued to your opponent. The podium is yours, unless you fuck up so badly even the bronze slips away. Daryna currently has the highest score and it’s certain she will protect the lead at the end of her final routine. Then follows Bulgaria’s Katerina, but you’re hardly worried about her: she finished her last exercise without catching the ribbon, a penalty you can easily overcome if luck and nerves are on your side.

When after an impeccable Daryna your name is announced at last, your trainer gives your butt a friendly, encouraging pat. She believed in you more than anyone else, more than yourself. She knew you’d qualify for the olympics and would be flying to Paris before you could even dream of such an achievement. And now you get to honor her trust, you get to prove that Paris is where you belong. The podium is yours because like hell you’re allowing it to slip away. But you want more, you want that gold.

The crowd seems louder now, flags raised in flashes of white and red in your peripheral as you smile radiantly and position yourself to start the routine. You don’t check if Atsumu was able to make it, don’t allow yourself to think of anything but the way your feet and legs and arms and hands are supposed to move.

The longest 85 seconds of your life begin along with the music, Piazzolla’s libertango but with a modern, energetic arrangement. The ribbon is not as scary as the hoop, it moves with you like an old friend, seamless and reliable. You throw the handle into the air and perform two forward rolls before catching it again in one fluid motion, lips perpetually stretched into a confident smile. The crowd erupts in deafening cheers at your backscale pivot, the more you keep cutting through the air with precision, control and passion, the more your smile grows. Yes, this is where you belong, this is what you love and were made to do.

There’s your signature move, difficult and risky and one Chisaka-san always attempts to talk you out of: a technical element, Bessonova’s swan, while simultaneously kicking the ribbon into the air with your foot once more. You catch it one last time, perform an aerial cartwheel and then a perfectly balanced backward somersault, wrap yourself in the colorful shades of your apparatus and gracefully conclude the routine on the floor.

The crowd is ear-splitting in their support and you don’t have to wait for the score to know: it was perfect. It’s the best you ever did and the tension finally melts into hot tears as you wave and smile and foolishly attempt to wipe the wetness from your cheeks at the same time. Chisaka-san wraps you up in her comforting embrace and you hide your face in her white uniform, ears ringing, blood scorching in veins throbbing with adrenaline.

“I can’t look” you whisper into her shoulder and she gently guides you to the bench, all emotional murmurs and soft touches. She sits next to you, holds your hand as you force a quivering smile to the camera, peace sign held high. And then you can barely catch a glimpse of your scores before Chisaka-san forces you into her arms and against her chest again, right as fresh tears stain your cheeks. She lets you have this moment, shields your first reaction from the world and the prying eyes of cameras that are on you once more because holy shit, Daryna has a 140.60 but you have a 142.850. They gave you a difficulty score of 19.300 and an execution one of 8.550.

“I knew it!” Chisaka-san is the only thing keeping you grounded because it truly feels as if you’re floating. It doesn’t matter how badly you wanted it, how much you fought for it, the moment doesn’t feel real. Not even as the other gymnasts come to hug you and you congratulate them in turn, it’s a whirlwind of all-encompassing love and support and mutual happiness. Moments like this make your sport truly special, they remind you that fierce competition only feels right when balanced by appreciation for your opponents’ efforts and individual journeys.

The crowd erupts in new, loud cheering and you catch a glimpse of the different face the cameras are now focusing on. A handsome face with suspicious dampness glistening on cheeks and a smile so warm, beaming with pride. You can’t help but smile back as your legs move on autopilot, a bottle of water dropped to the floor as you sprint towards the bleachers. Atsumu is in the front row and he easily catches you right as you jump onto him, arms wrapped around his neck.

“Told ya. It belongs to you” he whispers in your ear and you almost start crying again at the trembling in his voice, so many overwhelming emotions swarming in your chest at once.

“Thank you for believing in me” you mutter and pull back to look at him, because even in a venue packed with people and cameras and journalists he still manages to be the brightest, the one thing you could look at forever without ever growing tired of it.

“Always” Atsumu grins, eyes glazed with defiant tears “you did so well. Look at ya, my girl’s an olympic medalist!”.

And because you know he won’t do it, god forbid he takes the most special moment of your life away from you, you kiss him. It’s brief, two pecks that linger just enough before he lets you go, urges you to go back out there and celebrate. You don’t care that videos of this moment are probably going to be flooding every social media platform in a matter of minutes, similarly to how Atsumu hardly gives a damn about all the phones and cameras he has in his face when he runs to you after a game, whether his team wins or not.

It’s hard not to tear up again as the japanese national anthem echoes through the building, so many people singing along as you stand on the podium you have dreamed of every single day of your life. You smile, proud and big, take selfies with the other two medalists and make sure you hug every single gymnast you come across goodbye before walking out of the venue, a promise to catch up with your trainer in the evening.

Atsumu waits for you outside, he doesn’t have any additional training left for the day and you want nothing more than to walk back to the village with him, lovesick smile growing in size when you spot him underneath the afternoon sun, golden light caught beautifully in that honey blond hair.

“There she comes, the girl of my dreams” he coos and you roll your eyes with affection “I hear she’s now the greatest gymnast in the world, too!”.

“Corny” you murmur against his lips as he pulls you in for a real kiss, one of those you’re never willing to give him in front of the cameras.

“About those cardboard beds…” it’s a faint whisper into his mouth but it’s enough for Atsumu to pick you up and twirl until you’re both laughing between kisses, until someone clearing their throat prompts you to abruptly pull back and force your feet onto the ground again.

When you turn around, the embarrassed smile quickly grows into a surprised grin. The stranger is looking back at you with the faintest hint of a smirk and Atsumu isn’t entirely sure he loves the way you take a tentative step toward him.

“Congrats. It was a good routine, not your best though”.

“Oh my god” you chuckle, astonished, and Atsumu is now certain he doesn’t enjoy watching you run to hug this weird, 6’1 stranger with dark hair and teal eyes. He definitely doesn’t enjoy the way the stranger wraps his arms around you with a sigh.

“I should’ve known you’d be here! How long has it been? Look at you, all grown up!” you let him go, still smiling so hard your cheeks hurt.

“Too long” he concedes and if the stranger wasn’t still all caught up in old, familiar patterns of stubborn coldness, maybe he would be able to utter the truth about how much he’s missed one of his oldest friends.

“I missed you” as usual, you take it upon yourself to fill the spaces left empty by his obstinacy with warmth. His eyes soften and you smile again as you turn to look at your boyfriend.

“’Tsumu, c’mere!” you’re holding out a hand, an impatient invitation “come meet Rin!”

Atsumu is openly wary of your friend, one you’re obviously close enough to address by his first name. As he shakes his hand with a fake megawatt smile, Rin seems to be equally skeptical and does nothing to hide it.

“He’s your boyfriend?” he asks, briefly scanning Atsumu from head to toe with an openly dubious gaze “came all the way here just to support you?”

“Atsumu is a pro volleyball player, he’s in the national team just like you!”

“Volleyball, huh?” Rin cocks his head “doesn’t really interest me. I find it to be overrated”.

“I mean…”.

“And what would your sport be, Itoshi?” Atsumu can feel a vein throb on his forehead as he politely interrupts you.

“Soccer”.

“Oh!” a seemingly friendly laugh bubbles up from his throat but you recognize the petulant vibration to it “soccer! I think there’s only so long you can watch a player throw himself on the ground because he stubbed his toe on the grass or, I don’t know, try the same failed corner kick for the millionth time”.

You uncomfortably clear your throat and Rin directs his attention to you once more. Isn’t that what being a mature adult is all about? Ignoring pretentious assholes he doesn’t even know?

“I mean it, by the way. You deserve that gold more than anyone else I know”.

“C’mon, say it” you chuckle “I know you noticed”.

He mirrors your smile, pleased that the familiarity strengthened by years of friendship is still here.

“Barely catched that ribbon in the end, could’ve made that front walkover less stiff. Good job overall, though”.

Atsumu wants to punch him in the goddamn face, especially as you laugh once more.

“How come he’s so familiar with gymnastics?” he asks instead.

“Rin used to come watch my training sessions back in high school, although it’s insane to me that he still remembers!”.

“She never missed any of my trainings either” Rin smirks once more, gaze locked to the man in front of him.

“Speaking of!” you lightly smack his arm “when are you guys playing?”.

“Tomorrow. I can arrange special seats if you want”.

“Oh, I’d love to come! We should totally go, ‘Tsumu!”.

“Yeah, totally” Atsumu forces another smile onto his lips.

That night, as you’re cuddled against his chest on that infuriatingly uncomfortable cardboard bed, he believes it’s of the utmost importance to share the picture of you with an adorable smile and the medal around your neck as you stand proudly on that podium, followed by the two of you kissing right after your win.

miyatsumu the most hardworking person I know. my golden girl, now an olympic champion ❤️🥇

He thinks it’s a good caption and, as you softly snore in the quiet of the dark room, Atsumu also believes he’s in a mood good enough to decide not to block Shoyo on the spot after receiving his stupidly enthusiastic text about befriending some super nice dude on the national soccer team.

Whoever the hell Isagi Yoichi is anyway.

[pedripics]

IBAI x PEDRI - January 2, 2024 (summary)

He’s doing okay but things are a bit tough at the moment

He spent Christmas at home in Tenerife with his family

They play 'Suika Game' a lot in the dressing room (but on the phone and not the PC because it's free there lol)

He laughed a lot with Piqué in the dressing room. Piqué didn't really like training sessions but he was very good in the matches

Have you ever looked at Pique and thought that if you wanted to, you could dribble past him 7 times? - "Yes (laughs)"

Ferran has supported him a lot and is always there for him

Ferran takes the shark mentality very seriously, so Pedri gave him some shark slippers and now Ferran wears them in the dressing room

He tries to help Gavi every day because he knows what it's like to be injured for a longer time and he's confident that he will come back in great condition

Pedri does pilates now after Puyol recommended it to him

Pedri has Aleix García in his Fantasy team (his brother is first, he is second)

He rarely uses Twitter, he uses Twitch and TikTok more

They are behind Xavi 100%

In his opinion, Neymar looks good with every hairstyle

Girona are playing very well and he thinks that they could win LaLiga

Jordi Alba and Piqué were always fighting but that's how they got on. They just liked to fight lmao

Vitor Roque is wonderful, he is always happy, whenever Pedri sees him he is smiling

He doesn't like press conferences at all because they are a bit disturbing as all the journalists stare at you while you just sit there

In the Premier League, they are able to spend 80 or 90 million for players which is unbelievable. In La Liga, academies are what makes the difference

They don't really talk about the Super League in the dressing room

Boca Juniors or River Plate? - He's only watched one game and Boca won, so Boca

For Pedri, Busquets is the best No. 6 in history

His favourite player is Iniesta (in case you somehow didn't know that yet)

His favourite XI in history: ter Stegen, Jordi Alba, Piqué, Ramos, Alves, Xavi, Iniesta, Busquets, Ronaldinho, Ronaldo (after being forced by Ibai), Messi and Luis Enrique as a Coach (he changed out Ronaldinho for Neymar later)

Luis Enrique doesn't have What's App. If you want to talk to him, you need to send him an SMS

He was nervous when scoring the decisive penalty against Real Betis because the goalkeeper was a giant

Hardest defeat: penalty shootout against Italy (Euros 2020)

He supported Argentina in the WC final (for Leo)

He would like Haaland to sign for Barça (in his words "as a replacement for Lewy because he won't play for us until he's 60") and he also really likes Julían Alvarez (agent Pedri 👀)

His first friend at Barça was Trincāo

A dream: to win the Champions League and the World Cup

Before games, he likes to listen to slow Spanish music (Julio Iglesias? - "Maybe (laughs)")

His favourite singer is Quevedo (everyone act surprised please)

Vitor is only 18 years old, you cannot ask him to be the new Pele, but he has a lot of confidence from the club

He normally always stops for fans but there are always the same 5-6 TikTokers in front of the training ground so he sometimes doesn't stop if it's just them

He is rewatching Prison Break at the moment, even though he's seen it two times already. The first season is the best one in his opinion

He used to watch anime but not anymore

Kounde has the confidence to wear anything

They should listen to the players more because the calendar is so tightly packed right now and there are too many injuries

He would like to score more goals

He found scoring goals strange when he was younger because he never knew how to celebrate and all he did was run and look stupid

Ibai breaks his computer mouse and engineer Pedri tells him to plug it out and in again (Pedri indeed managed to fix it)

Favourite place in Barcelona? - Camp Nou ❤️

Ibai and Pedri played 'Guess these 100 Players' and Pedri guessed 94/100 right (and Pedri realised he doesn't know enough South American players)

[earlycuntsets]

"your star

MY CHEMICAL ROMANCE

The Black Parade is Dead!

At this point, MCR needs no introduction. The band led by Gerard Way is an icon of current punk-rock and every day thousands of fans around the world join their "carnival". The good news is that the quintet will release The Black Parade is Dead! this month and we will invite you to its launch!

BY: XABIERA SAN MIGUEL B.

When My Chemical Romance visited South America with their world tour last February and we learned that Chile and Argentina were included in the tour, we perfectly understood that thousands of fans would fulfill their dream of seeing their favorite band live, however, not all of them could attend the event, and for that reason, when we found out that the CD+DVD The Black Parade is Dead! would be arriving in record stores on July 5th, we got our act together and got ex-clusive tickets for the launch. Yes, just as you read it, we will invite you to the premiere of My Chemical's new material…, but first things first, you should first know what all the musical fuss is about.

Why not miss The Black Parade is Dead!

To begin with, this is the second live DVD in the career of the quintet from New Jersey, which began its history in the winter of 2001. The first was Life on the Murder Scene and was released in 2006.

The dual-format material includes completely live images and sounds, and compiles two concerts from The Black Parade World Tour, but they are two completely different concerts from each other.

MY CHEMICAL ROMANCE

DEAD

The tour, which began in February 2007 and ended on May 9 at New York's Madison Square Garden, included 138 dates of electrifying concerts, in which Gerard Way, Ray Toro, Bob Bryar, Frank Lero and Mikey Way

they gave their best.

On the one hand there is the CD with the complete recording of the show that the band offered last October 7 at the Palacio de

www.theblackparadeisdead.com"

[next page]

The boys performed on October 24, 2007 at Maxwell's Club in Hoboken, New Jersey, in front of about 200 people.

The DVD was directed by Adam Rothlein, an expert in the field, who had already worked on DVDs for Green Day, System of a Down, All-American Rejects and Disturbed.

As this is a limited and collectible edition, edited especially for fans, the material comes in a digipack (cardboard box with two compartments, one for each disc) and includes a booklet.

20 pages with exclusive photos from both concerts.

The second envelope of the packaging includes a sheet printed on both sides, with thanks from the group and photos of the merchandising available online.

Mexico City Sports. On this occasion, MCR reviewed its entire album The Black Parade.

The album will be available at the Record Fair the first week of July and its reference price is $15,000. Both materials will not be sold separately.

On the other hand, there is the DVD that rescues the very intimate concert that

If you were one of those who attended the show that MCR offered in Santiago de Chile, you probably remember that on that occasion, unfortunately Frank Iero, the band's guitarist, could not be present. Well, this is your chance to see it in all its dimensions.

We invite you to the launch of The Black Parade is Dead!

For the only time in history, Warner Music has organised a DVD Avant Premiere as a DVD release, so you can watch the concert on the big screen! So pay attention and come get your tickets. Tú Magazine and Warner Music invite you to the DVD Avant Premiere

The Black Parade is Dead!

To attend the Avant Première, redeem

Free! This coupon for an invitation

for two people in our office,

Located at: Rosario Norte 555, 18th Floor.

Neruda Building. Las Condes, Santiago.

The function will take place on Tuesday

July 8, 2008, 7:00 p.m.

at Cinemark Alto Las Condes (Kennedy Avenue 9001, Las Condes. Santiago, Chile).

Don't be left out: We have 40

double invitations.

We will be open between 10:00 a.m. and 6:00 p.m.

Promotion valid until Friday, July 7, 2008, or while supplies last

invitations.

On the day of the event, The Black Parade is Dead! will be sold prior to the performance."

tu mexico 06/2008

link to the black parade is dead full show with the mentioned maxwells hoboken nj 10/28/2007 show

[unforromass]

Sexo Fernandez en su debut como Blue

💙💪🦁🇦🇷

[youkissedareaderinthedark]

Part of It

Synopsis: Y/n has been the social media manager for the Argentina National Team for a few months now. She’s unofficially everyone’s favorite employee

young fem argentine reader x platonic argentina national football team

A/N: this fic will be regarding the entire team, but it will mainly feature: Alvarez, Fernandez, Molina, Garnacho, Messi, and De Paul, because those are the players I know the best.

more a/n: also please don’t be surprised if some of the info in this fic is false and the players are ooc, im not based in argentina so I could easily get a lot of these things wrong

. so

. for as long as you can remember, the only thing you’ve loved more than playing football is being behind a camera

. as a kid whenever you weren’t on the pitch itself, you were recording your teammates and friends, creating their own personal highlight reels

. and like every other kid in Argentina, you spent your entire childhood playing football

. but it wasn’t until you were a teenager when you started to discover your love for camera work

. it started when a teammate of yours asked you to record something for social media, initially as a joke

. but then the video got a couple hundred views, and you quickly began to love the feeling of creating something people can visually enjoy

. your teenage years were filled with football and videography

. then by the time your senior year came around, you knew you wanted to by apart of both scenes however you could in the future

. leading to your commitment to Cordoba National University with a major in communication and media studies

. you graduate in 2021, and spend a few weeks looking for jobs

. then you find Cordoba fc and their opening for a new social marketing manager

. you get hired within two weeks of applying as a social media manager

. because the Cordoba community is pretty small, you can spend a lot of time getting to know the players and the fans really well

. you learn a lot there, as it’s your first work experience for a professional football club

. you work there till the end of sepetmber/mid october, because through a few of your co-workers, you learn that Central Cordoba has an opening for social media manager

. which of course, you applied to and by the end of November, you’re part of the Central Cordoba staff

. it was a lot of fun; hanging out with players, befriending other staff, traveling with the team, and obviously, managing their social media

. you prove to be extremely efficient there, bringing in thousands of new fans

. which builds your reputation as an employee a lot

. and suddenly, you’re getting offers for different clubs around argentina

. only 1 stands out to you though

. Argentina’s national team offer

. because apparently, due to the world cup occurring at the end of the year, the communications directors wanted more publicity before the competition

. you obviously reply back, and a few weeks later you’re invited to their headquarters for an interview

. at first, you didn’t think you got the job because it took a while to hear back from the directors

. but then you wake up to yet another email waiting for you

. and you are officially argentina’s social media manager

. your first day is technically in april

. but you don’t meet any of the players until the end of that month

. you didn’t even know you were gonna meet the players that day so you were severely unprepared

. one moment you were making coffee with your co workers

. then lionel messi walks in beside rodrigo de paul

. they caught you by surprise

. both of them were really nice though

. you eventually learn that they all are

. your job mainly consists of filming the team together and managing the their social media accounts

. this is how you get to know each of the players

. you click with julian the most at first because of the age similarity

. he becomes your best friend within your first week

. any meetings that the both of you are included in are spent sitting on opposite sides of the room because you were told your friendship is “a disturbance to the work environment”

. you guys make it up by being attached to the hip before and after practices though

. a third of your camera roll is funny candid’s of julian

. you guys are bus seat partners and make fun out of annoying the other guys

. enzo is another close friend of yours

. you guys are always gossiping about something

. “did you hear about the new intern?”

. “apparently, somebody was found with somebody else in the break room after the meeting last week”

. “I swear he wasn’t even sick that one time, he was just at a party the night before”

. he tries to convince you to dye your hair like him

. and when you refuse, he lets you make up for it by helping him tone in

. you guys are always laughing together, no matter what the situation is

. you and molina have such a playful relationship

. you’re always making fun of him for no real reason

. he’s just trying to defend himself

. you do it for all of them, but his birthday photo dump is always the worst

. you two are always wandering around headquarters, looking for either someone to bother or something to entertain yourselves

. it always ends it great content though

. you have a soft spot for alejandro

. mostly because he has a crush on you and tries to play it off

. but you’ve known since the first few times of hanging out with him

. when you’re filming concent for the argentina pages, you’ll see alejandro trying to show off at least three times a video

. you find it hilarious

. the other guys tease him relentlessly for it

. you two are still good friends regardless

. he tries to be protective of you even though he’s literally four years younger than you

. again, you find it hilarious

. and he always gets shit from the other players

. leo is such a dad to you it’s funny

. he was so nice the first time you met him, and after that he unofficially adopted you as a daughter

. even though he’s only like 13 years older than you

. shows his care in small ways

. making sure you never get hit with a ball when you’re sitting in to a practice

. coming into your office when you’re both in headquarters to check on you

. making sure you’re safe when you’re traveling with the team

. whether it be just assigning another player to look after you or a whole ass bodyguard

. also protecting you from de paul

. because even though rodrigo acts as a bodyguard to both you and leo, he still likes to mess with you a lot

. he’s like an older brother to you

. super playful

. always teasing you

. agreesive type of love

. this is where messi comes in again

. insisting he puts you down and lets you do your job

. rodri also tries to convince you to get tattoos

. honestly that’s a whole team thing

. playful peer pressure is real there

. anyway

. you, julian, and enzo are such a trio

. getting up to the most random shit in other countries after games

. you guys were two seconds away from jumping into a canal in italy

. but then here comes leo

. scolding you guys like his children

. and sending you back to the hotel

. also, you have a jersey from almost every player on the team because before you got your own jersey, you always just picked someone random to wear on game days

. but then rodri started frowning when he saw you in julian’s jersey because apparently, you hadn’t worn his shirt in a few games

. and now you have a separate drawer just for jerseys

. oh and the world cup

. that was so fun for you

. traveling with the team to qatar

. hanging out in stadiums during practice, half upset because it felt like a million degrees

. but half in awe because holy shit you’re in qatar for the world cup

. you’re on the edge of your seat for every game

. the final almost killed you

. you were almost crying on the bench next to the other staff

. totally worth it though

. you started sobbing when montiel made the last penalty kick

. because you knew these guys, you knew how much they wanted it, how much they deserved it

. it was a mess of hugs and tears after that

. julian grins into your shoulder in a hug

. rodri tackled you

. enzo is basically jumping up and down with excitement

. you don’t think you’ll ever see alejandro that happy again

. you and molina are crying together

. and messi gives you the biggest hug

. it’s so fun celebrating with the team

. spraying champange with gonzalo

. singing along to music with paulo

. dancing around with lautaro

. and coming back to argentina after that

. seeing all the fans in buenos aires, looking around and seeing argentine pride everywhere

. surreal

. there’s definitely no feeling like it

. which is why you’re so sad when it’s time to go back to your clubs

. you came to an agreement with central cordoba to go back and work for them during the argentine league

. then coming back to the national team when it called

. so you can’t wait for next season

[satorugojowidow]

The original blog who screenshotted and shared this here has disabled the reblog so I'm going to repost in order to try to navigate the racism that is underneath this tweet.

About the claim of this tweet there is nothing more to say that the comparison is unacceptable not only because it lacks of any logic but also because trivialize the monstrosity of what genocide represent. Genocide is only equivalent to genocide, as the propaganda is an fundamental axis that allows genocide, its is a constitutive part of it. Nothing is equivalent or can be compared. This person is trivializing the genocide to people of Palestine while doing this comparison. Insult the victim with the only goal to make a point about the result of a tournament they didn’t like for any reason.

Argentina with all its political flaws and problems haven’t used football as political propaganda since 1978 (last dictatorship). And were Argentinians themselves those who have made a critical revision of the 1978 world cup, we don’t need someone from outside come to explain or call out what happened. Historiography has made their part and is part of the history teached in schools. 

President Milei's use of football is related to reform Argentinians football clubs from civil associations to shareholders of S.A. Argentina football clubs traditions are related to social purposes. Clubs like Boca Juniors and River Plate (the bigger) aren’t only about football but hold other types of sports, their objective of existence is to be a space where neighbors of the club (in the beginning of their history) can do sport. Sports clubs belong to their associates, who are the thousands of fans who follow their team. Milei and Macri want to allow the big shareholders to buy these clubs.the extractionist economic model but applied to football.

What this person in the tweet doesn't understand because of their ignorance and their contempt against our people is that football has a colonialist matrix as well. Football players are human resources that Europe takes from our clubs. That is why the players of Argentina National Team (the FIFA N°1) all come from big european clubs or usamericans club with lots of money. But they didn't started their career there, they were bought from clubs from Argentina, and they started when they were childs in small sport clubs that only exist to give working class people a chance to do sport. The first coach of Angen Di María was someone like many others that use their free time to teach childrens football, they don’t even live from that activity, because it is a social activity, not a business. Our football world champions come from working class families, they, like the huge majority of this country, are also descendants from those Europeans that came running away from poverty and those indigenous people who suffered the colonia. And if they weren’t the superstars they are, they were victims of racism because of their latinamerican condition. 

Argentina, like the rest of the countries of the world, has hierarchies based in economics, social and ethical status. As a country that is the result of European colonialism, still struggles with that inheritance. To this person, who may not like the Argentina National Team for random reasons, we seem like the only country that doesn’t deserve to win a tournament because of that. News for you, this is football, there is no “deserve”, you either win or lose. But talking about justice, it is fair that a country that is the home of the players gets to win. Not like European countries that win the world cup with the sons of those immigrants they so much hate, while African countries still struggle to position themselves in the tournament. 

The Argentina National Team has its flaws, but they still represent the working class people of this country and their dreams. They chose to celebrate the America cup with the prop guy, not like the Spain National Team that bent their knees to the king. And yes our current president is a pro Israel (and while in the protest against him the flag of Palestine flys) the National Team refused to celebrate the cup with him. 

And the fact that a third world country with players that come from working class families won, still has a meaning to the rest of the world that celebrated with us the 2022 victory in Qatar. We made that victory a huge popular celebration in the streets and everyone was welcome to celebrate with us. You won’t ever find a Argentina National Team fan that will tell someone from another country that they can’t use our jersey. With all our flaws, we still hold football as the sport of working class people. I guess some people can’t just understand it.

[cherryshortycake]

Can I make a request about Bakugo being with a partner (female reader) who is loving and affectionate, where she is not ashamed to show affection towards him?

(I don't know if you can make two orders 👀)

She comes from a culture where displays of affection are very visible in many parts of her country (Argentina more specifically), where a kiss on the cheek is a greeting for both women and men, in fact when she transferred to the UA, many from CLASS 1A were surprised when she greeted them all more informally, where one who was half disgusted was Bakugo, who was surprised and then acted like he didn't care, Y/N found that a little funny.

There would begin a little mischief between these two, Y/N was one where she showed her affection to everyone. She always hugged him, greeted him with a kiss on the cheeks or on the lips, whether in public or not, on occasions she would put her arm on his shoulder or when they were talking to the rest of the Bakusquad in the common living room and they are sitting, she will be next to him hugging him, etc. You can add more signs of affection!

A/n: awwwwwww Of course!! And just wanted to say if you enjoy my writing here, I have a fan favorite new story called "Beyond the Blast was Explosive Bonds" which is a (Bakugou x OC) slow burn romance. And support would be so appreciated..... The link is here my friends: https://www.wattpad.com/user/Cherries_Suki

Enjoy!

mwahhhhhhh

The hallways of U.A. High echoed with the lively chatter of students as Y/N, a transfer student from Argentina, made her way through the corridors. In her vibrant and affectionate nature, she greeted her new classmates with warm smiles and hugs, occasionally surprising them with a friendly kiss on the cheek.

As she approached Class 1-A, the students turned their attention toward the newcomer. Bakugou, in his usual explosive manner, eyed her with skepticism as she cheerfully approached.

"Y/N, right?" Mina Ashido chirped, pulling her into a friendly hug.

"Yeah, that's me! Nice to meet you all!" Y/N beamed, glancing around at the curious faces.

Class 1-A was a mix of confusion and amusement at her informal and affectionate greeting style. Most of them reciprocated with smiles and laughter, appreciating the cultural exchange. However, Bakugou, unaccustomed to such displays, couldn't hide his discomfort.

"HEY, huh? What's with the cheek-kiss crap?" Bakugou grumbled, crossing his arms.

She chuckled, not bothered by his reaction. "It's just how we greet each other in Argentina. No need to make a big deal out of it."

Bakugou huffed, trying to appear unfazed. "Yeah, whatever. Just don't expect me to join your weird greeting club."

Y/N grinned mischievously, deciding to have a bit of fun with the explosive hero-in-training. "Oh, come on, Bakugou. You know you secretly love it."

He scowled at her, trying to keep his composure. "Like hell, I do!"

Undeterred, Y/N leaned in and planted a quick, friendly kiss on Bakugou's cheek. The entire class gasped, their eyes widening at the unexpected display of affection. Bakugou, however, froze for a moment, a blush creeping across his face.

"Y/N, what the hell?!" Bakugou shouted, wiping his cheek furiously.

She burst into laughter, finding his reaction utterly amusing. "Relax, Bakugou. It's just a kiss on the cheek. It won't kill you."

He grumbled incomprehensibly, but the corners of his lips twitched, betraying a hint of amusement.

As the days went by, Y/N continued her warm greetings, slowly chipping away at Bakugou's initial resistance. Whether he admitted it or not, he found her affectionate nature intriguing, and deep down, he appreciated the genuine warmth she brought to the class.

Over time, Bakugou became more accustomed to Y/N's displays of affection, and while he still grumbled about it, there was a subtle softening in his demeanor whenever she greeted him. Unbeknownst to him, Y/N had successfully cracked through the tough exterior of the explosive hero, leaving a trail of laughter and warmth in her wake.

And so, in the vibrant halls of U.A. High, Y/N continued to share the rich tapestry of her culture, one cheek-kiss at a time, bringing a touch of Argentina to the hero-in-training and inadvertently turning Bakugou's scowls into begrudging smiles.

----------

BUT:::::: for when you guys are officially dating.........

The warmth of Y/N's affection had found a permanent place in Bakugou's daily routine, and despite his gruff exterior, he secretly reveled in the tenderness you brought to his life.

One sunny afternoon, as you strolled through the campus, Bakugou's hands stuffed deep into his pockets, you couldn't resist wrapping your arm around his. You leaned your head on his shoulder, a content smile gracing your lips.

"You're awfully touchy-feely, aren't you?" Bakugou remarked, though the playful glint in his eyes betrayed his true feelings.

You chuckled, squeezing his arm a bit tighter. "You love it, Katsuki. Admit it."

Bakugou huffed, refusing to acknowledge the truth. Yet, he didn't pull away. In fact, he found himself growing more accustomed to the subtle displays of affection, a testament to the genuine connection you shared.

One day, after a particularly challenging training session, you surprised Bakugou with a soft, lingering kiss on the cheek. The rest of Class 1-A exchanged surprised glances, half-expecting an explosion from the usually explosive hero.

To their astonishment, Bakugou's only response was a grumbled, "About time," before he stormed off, his face painted in a light shade of pink. It seemed that the hero, once resistant to affection, had grown to appreciate the genuine warmth you brought to his life.

Later that evening, in the quiet of your shared dorm room, Bakugou finally let his guard down. "You're too damn affectionate, you know that?" he muttered, his gaze avoiding yours.

You grinned, pulling him into a tight hug. "But you secretly love it, don't you?"

His only response was a subtle nod, and you could feel the tension in his shoulders slowly melting away. As the night unfolded, you found comfort in each other's arms, the unspoken language of affection weaving a silent thread between you.

In the weeks that followed, you continued to shower Bakugou with your warmth, from casual cheek-kisses to heartfelt hugs. And, much to the class's surprise, Bakugou didn't resist. Instead, he found himself seeking those moments of affection, an unspoken acknowledgment that your presence had become an essential part of his life.

As the hero-in-training who once scorned displays of affection learned to embrace them, you and Bakugou discovered that love could be found in the most unexpected places, and sometimes, all it took was a little warmth to melt even the coldest of exteriors.