#bad luck would be the only reason for him not to do well in barcelona

[httpiastri]

yk despite how happy we are i have a feeling pepe isn’t that satisfied with his performance even in the feature race and he’s probably still really really frustrated about his luck too 😭😭 but anyway that’s not something i really wanna think about rn, i’m proud of you pepe!!

- 🪷

yeah i think that even tho he got a better result than like we couldve maybe assumed based on his starting place, i think the disappointment of the friday and saturday is probs just too big…….. my mind keeps replaying all of the clips of him being all frustrated after the sprint and i just :(( but same, im very proud no matter what!!! he did well today and he deserves to feel satisfied 🫶🫶

[barcalover86]

Cruel, but sweet (1)

Short Pablo Gavi book

For this sweet person: @soso5479

"Could you do a gavi book where the reader plays for Real Madrid and they have a match against each other"

We decided together that this is going to be the main topic:

Y/n being at the real madrid academy and she has a match with Barca (girls' team), and Pablo is watching her.

I really hope you will like this, I tried my best to make it as good as possible, if you don't enjoy something, don't hesitate to text me and we'll talk about it. Also, if you have an idea that you would like to happen here, comment or send me a message or request. Love you all!⚡️

------------

You were already at Camp Nou, the place where you had an important match with your rivals, Fc Barcelona. You were playing for Real Madrid, the team of your dreams since you were just a child.

Your family is a football lover, that being the main reason why they joined you in this academy. You were really good, people saying that you have a unique talent. Everyone loved you since the beginning, and you absolutely adored your teammates.

This game was important. Who wins, wins the ligue. You promised yourself to give your best and to not disappoint anyone.

Your family and friends were there, supporting you as always and you were waving at them, happily.

You were so nervous right now, seeing so many people watching you warm up. Especially since you found out that the players from Barcelona were going to be there.

You weren't the toxic type of fan. You respected both teams. Of course, you would answer if someone asked you that Real Madrid is your favourite, but you never said something bad towards their big rivals.

Yes, they won laliga, but now it's time for Real Madrid too.

-----------

"I really have better things to do other than go to this game" said Gavi while standing on his chair, watching the players warming up. He was in no mood for football, all he wanted to do was to relax. He just won laliga and he had to go soon to the national team. Bad luck for him that Xavi made them all go to support the academy girls on this big day.

He wasn't a bad guy, he really wanted the girls to win because they totally deserved it, but right now he was too tired and wanted to do something that wasn't related to football. He wanted to relax this few days until he had to go to Madrid for training.

"It will be over soon, hermano" Pedri tried to console his friend.

"Who do you think will win?" asked Ansu.

"Ah, I really hope that our girls" replied Pedri.

"I hope that too, but the Real players from the academy are really good. It will be for sure an exited match. You won't get bored, Gavi" laughed Balde.

The boy only rolled his eyes and laughed. It will be for sure an interesting match.

------------

"We trained hard and we deserve this win! Let's make our supporters proud of us. Give your best and fight for every ball. I wanna see goals, not excuses. Vamos chicas, vamos!"

You were in the changing room listening to your couch. You were all determined to win this game and make everyone proud of you.

"Vamos!!!!" everyone started to cheer. Today was your day.

------------

"I can't do this anymore! How unlucky can we be!!!!"

Pedri was really grumpy that they had so many occasions of goal, but the goalkeeper managed to save them all. Besides that, Real Madrid was yet winning, being 2-0 for them.

It was now minute 44' and Barcelona scored. People were cheering for the team, but not too much, still being behind their rivals.

"This is for sure not our day, hermanos"

"Ansu, have a little bit of faith!" laughed Balde.

"He might be right. Today, real looks better than us" admitted Gavi sad. He really had hope for the girls to win and he still does, but deep down he knew that they were going to lose.

The boys talked about everything, until it was time for the other half to begin.

"Visca Barca!!" shouted Ansu and they all laughed at his silliness.

"Yes, visca Barca!"

The game began really well. It was already 2- 2 in minuted 48' and the boys were really happy and cheering. Eventually, they scored again, making Ansu dancing.

"What is that, hermano!?" laughed Pedri hard.

"It's called the dance of happiness, Pedrito" made the boy fun of his friend.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I'm sorry" he replied in surrender.

"And after a very short period of time, I will do the dance of winning!"

"Yeah, yeah, sure!"

-----------

Barcelona was winning, and you were really panicking now. You were running faster and more than ever. You trained too hard, and you couldn't lose today. You had to make your family and team proud of you.

You ran and ran for every ball, and when it was 5 minutes left, you scored. 3-3

You were so happy that you started to jump on all your teammates. People on Camp Nou started to cheer your name.

"Vamosss, hermanitaa"

"Let's go, amigas. We still have a match to win" you said and you went back, fighting for another goal.

-----------

"Look, Gavi! That girl is exactly like you."

"What?" he asked confused.

"She is jumping on all her friends after a goal. Don't you know someone that does the same thing??? Hm!?" Pedri teased him.

"Oh, let it like that" he laughed.

"Can't lie, she did a pretty goal"

"She really did" answered Gavi to Balde. "She worked really hard today, she kinda deserved to do at least one goal".

They were talking and not even realising that you did another goal, until Pedri started to swear.

"Calm down, Pedri. It's just a game. It's not ever ours"

Jordi tried to make his friend calm down, but he was really grumpy now.

"I can't believe it! We were winning and that girl had to do 2 goals in 5 minutes! Unbelievable!"

"It happens in football, hermano. Next game, we will win"

"She did a good game, don't you think?" whispered Lewandowski on Gavi's ear, seeing him looking constantly at her.

"I really wanted us to win, Lewa, but the way she played.. somehow I'm happy that they won"

Lewandowski smiled, seeing his little teammate blushing a little. Maybe coming to this game was a great decision, after all.

---------

You were in the changing room celebrating after the win. Everyone was shouting your name and you couldn't be more happy. Tears started to form in your eyes. You really made it.

"Thank you, y/n! Thank you, you saved us" said Ade, one of your best friends.

After a lot of photos with the trophy, it was time to go to the after party with the Barca girls. You decided to invite them to celebrate the last game together. All you wanted to do was be friends with everyone. You were rivals, but not enemies after all. You were still humans.

----------

Gavi found out you were the person that invited Barca to the party and he finds that so mature and beautiful. He only knew your name and when he looked at the photos and saw who you actually were, he couldn't believe how pretty you are.

You were all sweaty and tired, with a red face, but still.. so beautiful. He found your Instagram and looked at some photos of you. Most of them were with you playing, but the ones from holidays were his favourite. You, dressing elegantly, with a natural makeup look...

He didn't follow you, but he was still looking at your stories whenever you would post them.

When you saw that Pablo Gabi saw your stories, you thought that he only wanted to see who won today, but when he constantly saw the ones from the party, you started to be really nervous. He was a player from Barcelona and you couldn't be interested in someone from that club. People would say that you would betray your team and you were so loyal to them. You tried to forget about it and to enjoy your night, but it was really hard.

When you got home late and were so tired, you still made time to look at his ig account, too. The boy was really breathtaking. When you went to see some reals and tik toks of him, you found out that he was also a sweetheart. You knew about him, everyone in Spain knew, but not so much details.

The videos of him and kids made you blush and smile like an idiot. And when you saw the one with the fan asking him for a huh after signing her something (gif) made you want to cry of how beautiful his smile is.

The thought that he saw you playing tonight made it hard to fall asleep. You knew that you won't get to meet him. You, leaving in Madrid and him in Barcelona, made it really hard.

You were an optimistic type of person, but this time you knew it was impossible, until you met again. Where? At the spain national team..

Please, tell me your opinion on this!!! Was it good, bad? I can change something if you don't like it!!

Love to all of you, take care people!!

Masterlist

Requests open this days

[lucy90712]

Could you write a story about surprising pedri at one of his games? I really love your writing!!

A/n: my requests are open so feel free to send me more requests. 

wc: 1700

Lying has never been something I've been good at I always give away when I'm lying especially to those who know me well. Pedri always knows when I'm lying as he says I have a tell but he won't tell me what it is so that makes keeping surprises from him extremely difficult. Every time I have tired to do something as a surprise for his birthday or any other day he always finds out before hand but somehow this time I've managed to keep a secret from him. I have been planning to surprise him for a few weeks now as today he has a big match against atletico and has been asking me to come but I have said that I can't make it as I have to be at work to do some important things but really I'm going to surprise him. 

I'd like to think that I've just gotten better at keeping secrets like this but really it's because it didn't start out as a lie. To begin with my boss needed me in to get some really important work done but about a week later I had managed to get enough of it done that I didn't need to go in. My plan was to tell Pedri straight away but on my way home I decided not to as I thought it would be fun to surprise him as long as I could keep the secret. I think the fact that the story was true has helped me keep the secret as Pedri hasn't even questioned me he has just been slightly disappointed that I couldn't make it. It has been awful keeping this secret from him as I'm really not used to it but I kept telling myself it's not a big deal and he will forget about it when he sees me at the match. 

With the match being today I had to keep up the whole story going which meant getting up early and getting ready as if I was going to work which felt so strange to do but I did it anyway as at this point I'm in too deep to change my mind. I said goodbye to Pedri like I would on any normal weekday and got in my car not really sure where to go as I had a few hours to kill before Pedri would leave and I could go back home. I ended up driving to a cafe and sitting there to do some more work as I had nothing better to do. It was really hard to concentrate on any work as I was getting super excited and nervous about surprising Pedri, I'm excited as I know that he will be really happy to see me there but I'm also nervous as it's a big game and I don't know how the team will do. 

After a few hours when Pedri should have left I packed my stuff up and drove back home but I was careful to take backroads and check that his car wasn't parked outside before I parked my car and went inside. He had definitely left as the door was locked so I had to unlock it before I could do everything I had to before leaving for the match. I didn't have long as traffic gets really bad around match time so to make sure I don't miss anything I need to leave quite early. To get ready I changed out of my work clothes and into some jeans along with one of Pedri's Barcelona shirts as I always wear one of his shirts to a game. I also looked through all of my jewellery as for some reason I always wear this once bracelet to Pedri's matches as I happened to wear it when they beat Real Madrid 4-0 and have worn it every match since. 

When I was ready I grabbed all my stuff and got back in my car but this time I knew where I was going. Before actually setting off I text Pedri to wish him luck as if I can't go to a game I always text him so I made sure to keep up the act that I wasn't going. He doesn't always reply to my texts as he can be busy but this time he replied saying that he missed me and then sent a few hearts so of course I had to send some back. Although it was only a text I could tell that he really wished I was there but what he didn't know was that as long as traffic wasn't too bad I'd be there in about half an hour. Knowing that I was so close to getting to watch him play and surprise him made me so excited that if I could have driven quicker I would have but speed limits and traffic stopped me which was probably for the best. 

Once I arrived I ran in quickly to get to my seat in plenty of time and also to avoid being noticed by anyone because I know if anyone takes a picture of me here Pedri will see it and the surprise will be ruined. Getting here quite early means having to wait painstakingly for the match to start but it also means getting to talk to some of the other players partners and families which is always nice as they know exactly how I feel and often have more experience with this world than I do. When I got to where all the family sit a few other people were there like Lewandowski's wife so I spoke to her for a bit before going to sit down ready for the match to start. 

All the players came out onto the pitch and the match got underway which is when I really started to get nervous. I always find it hard to watch big matches like this one because I really want them to do well but of course that doesn't always happen. Despite my nerves my eyes were glued to Pedri and followed him all around the pitch so I could see how he was doing. He was doing really well out there but he kept getting fouled which was really annoying but I know it's just because they see him as a threat and will do anything to stop him. Despite all of that he was still doing really well and creating chances which didn't always come to much but he was trying and that's what counts. 

Barca were doing really well and had already scored a few goals and Pedri had got close a few times but was yet to actually score. That was until he was running to get in the box and the ball was passed to him and he must have seen an opportunity as he made a shot and it went straight past the goalkeeper into the goal. I was so excited that I couldn't help but jump up from my seat to watch him celebrate with the team. He was running toward where I was sitting but I wasn't sure if he saw me until our eyes locked and he made a heart with his hands so of course I did it back which made the both of us smile even bigger than we were before. After that I noticed a difference in the way he played he just seemed so much more confident and he was really trying to do anything he could to make a difference to the game. It was so heartwarming that he was playing better knowing I was watching and was trying harder to make me proud even though I will always be proud of him. 

They went on to win the game which meant Pedri would be extra happy so I was even more excited to see him. Just to be safe I waited for most other people to leave the stadium before I headed down to meet Pedri outside the locker room. As I waited so long to head down it wasn't very long before Pedri came out along with a few of his teammates but as soon as he saw me stood there he left them and ran over. He picked me up straight away and spun me round as he held me tightly to his chest. Eventually he put me down and kissed me all without taking his hands off my waist or losing eye contact. He had such a big smile on his face that I couldn't help but smile even more just looking at him.

"I thought you were supposed to be at work how are you here?" He asked 

"I may have lied slightly to begin with I was going to have to work but I got enough done during my actual hours and since I already told you I wasn't going to be able to make it I thought I'd keep it up and surprise you" I explained 

"Wow I'm impressed I thought you would have told me or given it away" he said 

"I nearly told you a few times but I kept it a secret" I said 

"I didn't even notice you lying you are getting better and I'm not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing" he laughed 

"Well I hated lying to you so I think we'll be fine" I said 

He laughed as he finally let go of my waist so that we could leave and go back home although we both had our cars so we had to split when we got outside so we could both get in our cars. Pedri got back first as I got stuck trying to get out the car park but when I finally got back he was back at my side within a second and making me go to bed with him to cuddle and of course I wasn't going to say no to that. Cuddling with Pedri is the best way to end a long and tiring day so that's exactly what we did.  

[remuslupinfest]

Remus Lupin Fest 2020 Master List (Anon)

We're pleased to release this years Master List of fics, sorted by ship and alphabetically! There's 38 incredible works! Author and artist reveals are next week.

GEN

TITLE: First Year SUMMARY: I hope whoever prompted this in the first place is happy with the result. I know it's super messy but I was experimenting a bit with my style!

TITLE: On Talking SUMMARY: Five conversations Remus Lupin and Minerva McGonagall have during Prisoner of Azkaban and one they do not.

TITLE: One of Many Happy Moments SUMMARY: Remus has only come back home from one of particularly typical days of teaching in Hogwarts, but he couldn’t refuse Teddy to read the book together

TITLE: Remus Lupin Sleeping Peacefully SUMMARY: Prompt: Remus sleeping peacefully.

TITLE: Tousled SUMMARY: Prompt: Remus wrapped in a sheet/duvet going to the bathroom or kitchen after having had sex with someone. Maybe someone knocks on the door and he can’t find his trousers. He’s flushed, tousled and possibly has a hickey or two.

REMUS/MISC

TITLE: A Heart Grows Warm SUMMARY: After the war, Remus is a single father and desperate for a job. Snape hires him to work in his potions shop, but Remus can't ignore the building sexual tension between them.

TITLE: Bad Moon Rising SUMMARY: James, Lily and Voldemort all died on Halloween night. Years later, Remus is working in the Auror Department on a confusing case of a transformed werewolf stalking a family outside of a full moon and is assigned a brilliant new Auror, Nymphadora Tonks, to work with him.

TITLE: Briseé SUMMARY: Death eater!Remus struggles to face his past after the death of his lover and the end of his freedom.

TITLE: Care to Share? SUMMARY: Remus had every intention of enjoying solidarity over the holidays. That may change now that he's not the only Slytherin staying behind.

TITLE: His Luck SUMMARY: Modern setting, model/photographer AU for Remus Lupin and Narcissa Black. Written for the Remus Lupin fest 2020.

TITLE: Hold Me While You Wait SUMMARY: Remus Lupin just needs someone to hug him.

TITLE: One Night In Barcelona SUMMARY: The chemistry was too much to resist.

TITLE: Readjusting SUMMARY: When Voldemort murders Frank and Alice Longbottom, their baby survives. Meanwhile, Lily moves into a flat in Muggle London. Alone. With baby Harry and the cat. Remus helps.

TITLE: The Paths We Take SUMMARY: Lily Evans Lupin is a detective, though her husband Remus' name is on all the paperwork. He writes incredible tales while she solves mysteries. All seems normal as the Second World War ends, and Lily is hoping for peace and eventual renown for her talents legally attributed to Remus. Her and Remus' entire world comes crashing down once more as Sirius O. Black, Remus' first love, enters their agency, with one request: to find his missing brother Regulus, who joined the Nazis and hasn't come home. Can Lily find the missing Regulus? Can Remus face his heartbreak?

TITLE: You keep messing with my brain SUMMARY: The awful truth was that when he had noticed Regulus Black he couldn’t exactly look away anymore.

WOLFSTAR

TITLE: AMOR VINCIT OMNIA (love conquers all) SUMMARY: Remus, a servant boy to the cruel Emperor Voldemort, meets Sirius, a charming nobleman. Together they fight for freedom and love in Ancient Rome.

TITLE: An Endearing Portrait SUMMARY: At the beginning of their seventh year at Hogwarts, Sirius fears that Remus’s mother and perhaps Remus himself, too, prefers someone else.

TITLE: Falling Into Place SUMMARY: There's always been something special about Remus Lupin, even if it's taken Sirius Black until his seventh year to realize it. Too bad he spends so much time agonizing over his changing feelings that he loses his chance. In which Remus acts like an idiot, Marlene is the snarky voice of reason, James is a mother hen, Peter is confused, and Sirius is seriously jealous.

TITLE: Fate and Other Ambiguous Notions SUMMARY: Truth be told, Sirius has never really paid much attention to Remus before... (Slytherin!Remus, Gryffindor!Sirius)

TITLE: Hold Me While You Wait SUMMARY: Remus Lupin just needs someone to hug him.

TITLE: If You’ll Be Waiting SUMMARY: Remus gets the Information that Sirius is probably still alive. He goes on a road trip to Germany with Harry to find him.

TITLE: In the Throws of You SUMMARY: Prompt 178: Sirius has a track record for picking bad BDSM doms, but luckily Remus is always there to provide the proper aftercare he needs.

TITLE: Ivory and Gold SUMMARY: Sirius Black is all Remus has been looking for and more. A muse, an inspiration, a theme he never wishes to let go. He’s magnetic. And Remus lets himself be pulled in.

TITLE: Let the Awful Song Be Heard, Bluebird SUMMARY: Prompt: I just miss you, in a quite simple desperate human way. I miss you even more than I could have believed; and I was prepared to miss you a good deal. So this letter is really just a squeal of pain. – Vita Sackville West In some ways, they are still Padfoot and Moony.

TITLE: making a fool out of myself (for you) SUMMARY: Sirius and Remus have been friends for years. However, unbeknownst to the other, both of them have a secret life working as a clown. Over the years, Remus and Sirius have competed against each other in the clown/birthday party circuit, becoming actual clown enemies of each other without knowing their true identities... until now, that is.

TITLE: Meet the Moonies SUMMARY: Remus introduces Sirius to his parents for the first time.

TITLE: Renewal SUMMARY: Remus and Sirius return to Remus's cabin together after the events of Harry's third school year come to a close. Remus decides that Sirius would be much better off with a haircut and some TLC.

TITLE: Sanctify My Body (With Pain) SUMMARY: When Remus leaves for what is essentially a suicide mission, Sirius finds himself grappling with the realities of a life where he doesn't know if the love of his life is dead or alive.

Perhaps the most confusing question in these situations is: which is worse?

TITLE: Siren songs SUMMARY: Sirius had heard of mermaids before, of course. They were all over the songs bards performed at his parents' table and the tall tales sailors traded in every port. He had never given much thought to whether or not the stories were true, though. Imagine his surprise when he and his best mates found themselves shipwrecked on an unfamiliar shore, with a breathtaking and mysterious merman for their only ally.

TITLE: Sweet Nuthin’ SUMMARY: When the summer between third and fourth year begins, Sirius expects it to be nothing but lazy days, harmless pranks with James, and the occasional meet-up with the rest of his friends from Hogwarts. Those plans go out the window rather quickly when he gets a sudden glimpse of Remus Lupin, a mysterious boy who changes everything about Sirius Black's life and shows him that love will always win in the end.

TITLE: Teddy’s Wedding SUMMARY: Teddy's wedding brings about memories of the past and hopes for the future.

TITLE: That Iron Taste SUMMARY: In the middle of a particularly bitter winter, a new attendee starts showing up in Father Black’s congregation. He is entirely unfamiliar and wholly arresting. In his wake there will be confusion, horror, heat, bliss, blood, and perhaps the end of reality itself.

TITLE: The Great Gay Pornstar Twitter Feud of 2020 SUMMARY: “So what I’m hearing is that you’ve got a date with your hot, clever, fellow porn-star twitter nemesis, of whom you once said ‘I’d rather die than let that pretentious knobcloud touch my dick’... is that about right?”

“... Yes.”

Or; Remus Lupin forgets to turn the fucking camera on.

TITLE: The King I Could Become SUMMARY: Prince Sirius of Nox has one thing he cannot stand. Or rather it should be said, one person. Prince Remus of Lupos. They had never gotten along well, though their kingdoms are close allies, but a disturbance in the lands has brought them together on a quest. They'll be able to take down this threat...if they can survive each other's presence first.

TITLE: The New Sailing Master SUMMARY: Sirius is a pirate, Remus is a fugitive, Remus manages to get a lift aboard the Blithering Idiot and it's love at first sight…

TITLE: Things We Can’t Say SUMMARY: Prompt 18: Angst during the first war, based on being on opposite sides. Trying to convince them to join the light side maybe, or accidentally injuring each other or close friends of each other.

TITLE: Thoroughly Debauched SUMMARY: Prompt: Remus riding Sirius in a chair

TITLE: To Admit What Is Not More Illegal SUMMARY: On Valentine’s Day in their seventh year at Hogwarts, Sirius tries to offer what Remus needs, and starts figuring out if he's ashamed of something, and if he is, what it is.

TITLE: You Would Be Calling Me Moony SUMMARY: A month after Sirius falls through the Veil, Remus starts seeing Sirius in his dreams. But they're only dreams...right?

[odannygirl7]

Carnival of Aros - July 2020

I've been meaning to type about this for a while, but then this month's carnival of aros is about music, so I figured... well, two birds one stone I suppose lol.

Musicals are sort of like music right? I mean, I don’t think this is too far from the idea, even if it was meant to be about, like, individual songs.

This is about a whole musical where I just immediately felt that it was a missed aromantic opportunity.

Company.

Company is a musical by Sondheim from the 70s that seems to be brought back every decade or so. It’s about a guy, Bobby, on the night of his 35th birthday. He’s a bachelor, the only one among a bevy of married friends - all of whom wonder why he can’t keep a girl and hasn’t gotten married yet. The show moves through snippets of Bobby’s experiences with his friends… they’re all basically trapped between the horribleness of being married and the horribleness of, well, not. They love Bobby for his freedom, for the advice he gives, for the fun he brings into their life, for watching their kids, for always being there without being a detriment to their coupleness.

But the entire play is them badgering him about why he isn’t getting married.

There’s also three of Bobby’s girlfriends who wonder the same thing, what’s wrong with him, why can’t he commit.

One could also view it as Bobby internalizing everything his friends and lovers have said in the past and having a freak out about it. The whole show is kinda… disjointed in that, while it takes place all on one night, the majority of scenes are from the past or possibly not real.

The show is set up, for most people, to be a commentary about, idk, like growing up or realizing that you can’t be alone or you gotta be open and vulnerable, but like you need to share your life with someone and that someone… uhh, can’t be your friends cause they all have their significant others and that’s the way things are (*hard side eye* lmao). And that’s a real shame, because the show is this wonderfully accidental portrait of a closeted aromantic struggling not only with the pressure of the conventional relationship narrative, but with friends who buy into that. Bobby doesn’t know what he is, or can’t accept it, or can’t admit it, and he’s struggling to force himself to feel the things that come so naturally to everyone he knows.  He wants love, to be loved, but what’s in him, what he’s capable of, isn’t what everyone else has. I mean, look, he’s 35 and has never been in love, doesn’t understand love… *looks into the camera like I’m on The Office* come on.

I’m not going to go through the whole show, just hit on some highlights that scream aromantic to me, cause not all the songs are about Bobby’s relationships. Some are about the other character’s relationships. There’s 18 songs in this musical, lots of material.

Here’s a link to the whole thing … this is the 2006 version with Raul Esparza, who is fantastic.

We’ll start in Act 1 and go from there. About halfway through we get Bobby’s three girlfriends singing “You Could Drive a Person Crazy". This is an upbeat, vicious song about how they feel betrayed that he never takes things to the next level. They can understand if he was gay, or bad in bed, or actually dead… but Bobby is none of those things, instead he’s a crazy, troubled, person who has something wrong with him. He’s a zombie with a loose connection.

I don’t think I’m the only aro who’s been called similar.

Later Bobby sings about someone (“Someone is Waiting”)… an amalgamation of all his lady friends… pleading for this person to wait, because he’s ready. He wants to find them, if he’s not out of luck and too late. He already has what he’s looking for, theoretically… if only an alternative relationship structure existed. As is, he has to try and find someone new. Conform to the idea of the superiority and inevitability of the exclusive pair bonded romantic-sexual relationship.

When one of his friends is freaking out about getting married, close to calling off the wedding, he proposes to her. Because it makes sense. She doesn’t want to be married, he doesn’t want to be married, they can both be married and have their freedom, everyone will leave them alone.

“You have to want to marry somebody, not just some body,” says Bobby’s friend, deciding that she really does want to marry her fiance.

This leads to Bobby singing “Marry Me A Little”, imagining a marriage as being soft and respectful, no big fights, no big promises… and that he’s ready for that. Things like mutual respect and care. “We won’t have to give up a thing, we’ll stay who we are,” he sings. “I’m ready now.”

There comes a point as an aro (tho this applies to aces and people of any orientation who don’t really want a relationship as well), or for, I think, a lot, or a good number, of aros when you start looking at a future that doesn’t have the spouse and the kids and pets and picket fence. When you start to come to grips that you might be looking at an empty road instead. And it’s not necessarily that you don’t want that, or that you really want something else, but there’s a kinda scary point where you realize that it might just be you, alone. That no matter what friends you have or partners or whatever… that they’re eventually going to want to “get serious” and “have their own lives”, lives that don't include you as a main component. And “somebody”, anybody, that will make it so you’re not alone starts sounding pretty good. You’re almost desperate for it. If you could just find that right person, the one that would make it make sense to have the spouse and kids and pets and picket fence… you could do that. You could. It’d be so easy. And then you’d have someone and isn’t that what everyone wants?

Anyway… Act 2.

All the married couples sing about how much they love having Bobby around in "Side by Side by Side". But then also rag on him about how worried they are for him being alone and try to set him up ("Poor Baby" and "Have I Got A Girl for You"), which is par for the course I think for an aro.

There’s also “Barcelona”, where Bobby makes a vague, surface, “going through the motions” plea to one of his girlfriends that she should stay after they’ve slept together. He doesn’t try very hard and when she decides to stay, well he sings “oh god”. ‘Nuff said.

All of that is, you know, it builds, but the real highlight in Act 2 is “Being Alive”, which is where Bobby finally learns that he really does need someone.

Or, you know, when he’s been beaten down by life and his friends and partners so badly and so thoroughly that he decides that he’s not even alive if he’s alone. That he needs another person to make him alive. “Alone is alone, not alive.” Tragic.

He starts off with things like being held too close and hurt too deep, to which his friends comment about how he can’t possibly think that that’s all there is, telling him he has no reason to be alone, encouraging him to keep going cause he’s “on to something”.

Bobby’s seen the terrible bits of their marriages and, to his friends, also the good bits. But if you read Bobby as aromantic then he has no context for the “good bits”. He’s watched them dig at one another with secret info, argue, pester, have the other person say they hate it… and then it’s just fine, because of ~feelings~??? Incomprehensible magic. There’s a trick in there somewhere and Bobby can’t see it.

But Bobby’s trying. Forcing himself. If he just really thinks about everything they’ve told him...

“Hey, buddy, don't be afraid it won't be perfect. The only thing to be afraid of really is that it won't be,” says one friend. Yikes. “It's much better living it than looking at it, Robert,” says another. And I suppose if you do have feelings for someone, it’s not that bad.

Bobby finally… it’s sad, really… like I know it’s supposed to be a song of him figuring everything out, but it feels like a descent. He’s given in. He believes there’s literally nothing for him, he’s not living, unless he has another person. “make me aware of being alive” “make me alive”

Horrific.

I’m not entirely sure how, like if this show were to be reworked with Bobby as aromantic (and god knows it gets revived enough, it could happen if anyone knew what aromanticity was) how that would be communicated. Unless, like, you had Bobby admitting that he is aro from the start, but you’d have to assume that the audience would know what that was and actually, you know, not agree with all the other characters.

The latest revival in 2018 did a gender swap with Bobby, which is something. Now, I had thought it was just Bobby as the swap, but they swapped all her girlfriends into boyfriends and then made one of the married couples gay. Apparently, according to reviews, the whole thing was a revelation and really freshened up because, you know, it’s super hip and modern to do a “ticking bio clock” story line with a woman nowadays. (there's also the soundtrack to the gender swap on youtube, it's got Pattie LuPone in it!)

Personally, I would have just swapped Bobby… I’m not sure how well an aro reading there would play, not because there aren’t aro lesbians, but I feel like there are a lot of layers to a lesbian not wanting to u-haul and then getting harangued for it by her presumably hetero friends steeped in hetero society, just aside from any aromanticity.

But the whole thing takes on a very tragic tone when reading Bobby as aro, I think. I suppose what’s even more tragic is that Sondheim probably has no idea that he possibly wrote an aromantic character. He thinks he wrote a show about fixing someone who was broken. Just like the show Bones fixed Bones from being broken and how HIMYM fixed Robin and (tried to fix) Barney. I need to find a better way to end this, probably, we’ll see…

I wrote this three weeks ago on pillowfort and did not find a better ending lmao.

[heyyyharry]

Cousin

(from the Couple in Flat 102 Series)

…in which Harry’s least favorite cousin pays him a visit, and Y/N thinks he’s a bad influence on Harry.

wattpad link

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"So, you're telling me he'd had this ring since graduation?!"

"Yes!"

"Get out!"

Layla and Y/N squealed at the same time, ignoring the judging stares from their boyfriends who have been watching them from the kitchen door this whole time. Y/N had been going on and on about finally being engaged for nearly an hour now, which made Harry feel very smug while Niall, on the other hand, was weirdly on edge.

"You've got to tell your girl to stop telling my girl about the 'romantic' stuff you do," said Niall as he furrowed his brows, eyes still on Layla. "When we get home she's gonna give me so much shit for this."

"Mate, you gotta—" Harry began.

But Layla jumped right into his mouth as she shouted at her boyfriend, "hey babe! Harry met Y/N's parents in person to ask for her hand, isn't it cute?"

"Yes, very cute!" Niall shouted back, punching the air enthusiastically then with that fake smile he whispered a quiet 'fuck you' to his friend who was trying his best not to laugh.

Luckily for Niall, his girlfriend was the one who changed the subject afterwards. "So what happened to the catsitter after you caught her stealing your ring?"

"I got rid of her," Y/N calmly answered before raising her voice intentionally. "Someone had to!"

When hearing that, Niall couldn't help but snicker and as a result received a slight slap on the cheek from Harry. Neither of the girls bothered to ask or pay attention to them though, Layla was too busy looking around for the little cat instead.

"Did that bitch steal Treasure too?" She screwed up her face, and Y/N quickly shook her head no.

"Ben and Nam took her to the park already."

"Wait, Ben and your super cool, super gay doorman know each other?"

"Apparently. Yeah." Y/N shrugged. "I think something's going on between those two. Neither would tell me about it though."

"Trust me. They can't hide it forever." Layla released a laugh then looked down at the watch on her wrist. And as soon as she saw what time it was, the girl threw herself out of the sofa immediately. "Shit, we're having lunch with my dad's family in half an hour! Niall, let's go!"

"Do we have to?" Niall groaned, dragging his feet to the front door, like a little boy whose mother had just told him to say goodbye to his friend because playtime was over.

"Yes we do, Niall!" Layla tapped a finger on her watch, urging her boyfriend to pick up his pace.

"But you hate your dad's family!"

"Yeah but...not my dad." She widened her eyes at her boyfriend. "Hurry up! That little whore Esther would have a lot to say about us being late."

"Oh, is Esther your stepsister?"

"Her stepmother..." Niall answered Y/N's question with a sigh. "She's not much older than us so...same thing."

Y/N and Harry just exchanged glances without any further comment on their friend's family drama. They knew Layla all too well and she would never shut up once she started ranting about the people she loathed.

Niall walked out first, and before Layla followed, she stopped at the door to say one last thing, "oh Niall told me Mason's coming over today. Good luck, H!"

Y/N chuckled in confusion as she switched her eyes from her best friend to her boyfriend. "Who's Mason?"

"He's Harold's journalist cousin who recently just got back from Barcelona. He's very hot."

"HEY!" Niall shouted from the hallway, causing Layla to frantically change her opinion.

"I mean he's hot if you don't count Niall!" She said loudly for Niall to hear before running off to catch up with him as the lift arrived.

With the friends were now gone, Harry watched Y/N close the door with a funny look on her face, and so he knew they were about to have a conversation about Mason, the name he tried to avoid in every family gathering.

"You've never told me you had a cousin named Mason."

"Because I like to pretend I didn't have a cousin named Mason!" Harry flopped down on the sofa, blowing up his cheek like a frustrated little boy. So his fiancé took a seat right beside him staring at him intensely with a cheeky smirk on her face, which got him curious.

"What?" He raised an eyebrow, making the girl giggle.

"I'm waiting for the backstory about you and this guy."

"Psst, you don't wanna hear it. It's silly."

"Is it? Because you seem more stressed about him visiting us than the first time you saw me naked."

That sentence left a wide smile on Harry's face as he took no time to drag her by the hips onto his lap.

"That's not true," he mumbled, nose brushing against hers while his hands founf comfort resting on the exposed skin of her lower back. "I can never be as stressed as the first time we made love."

The tips of his fingers were dancing dangerously close to her jeans button now. Y/N quickly swatted them away, before he successfully lured her into another one of their midday sexy sessions as an excuse se to get away from this conversation.

"You can't have me until you tell me about Mason."

Because Harry knew there was no way he could win this argument, he slightly pulled his face away and began with a long exhalation. "There's nothing much to tell besides the fact that he's a narcissistic asshole, who's like...really cool and good at basically everything. Everyone in my family loves him, in fact, every single person I know loves him."

Y/N chuckled, eyebrows furrowed as she heard him. "Then how come he's an asshole?"

"He's only an asshole to me! He was always bullying me when we were kids, he pushed me to the ground, stole my toys! But in front of our parents he was a fucking angel. He nearly drowned me once at the lake and somehow had everyone believe it was my fault!" Harry rolled his eyes as he continued, "back when we were still in high school, there was this girl Stephanie, and she was the most beautiful girl I'd ever seen! Not now though! Now you're number one!"

Y/N scoffed as she patted his cheek slightly. "Nice try, but go on."

"So I told him I wanted to ask Stephanie to the Prom because he was her friend and he'd already got a girlfriend back then."

"Lemme guess. He asked her to the Prom, didn't he?"

"He did!" Harry's bitter tone nearly had Y/N dying of laughter. "He broke up with his girlfriend and asked Steph to the Prom without telling me first just so she could reject me. I was very humiliated!"

Y/N bit back a smile, the pouty look on his face was undeniably cute. Competitive Harry always made her want to tear off all his clothes before begging him to do things to her, but she knew she couldn't do that now, not when he was still so upset about his seemingly evil cousin/childhood enemy.

"Well, if you two hate each other so much then why's he coming to visit us?"

"Mum's told all of my relatives that I got engaged, so Mason probably came back to prove that he's doing better than I am."

"Or..." Y/N stressed out the word as she traced her fingertip across his collarbone, making him swallow hard "...he heard about our engagement and wanted to congratulate us in person. You two are adults now, something has to change."

"You always believe in people." Harry grabbed her hand and brought it to his lips. "That's one of the reasons why I love you. But I know Mason, baby, he's a dick, and I don't want you to meet him."

"But I do! I'm curious to see for myself how bad he can be!" She giggled, holding his face. "Besides, you're always the best. No other man can beat my man."

"You're biased because you're my fiancé."

Y/N couldn't help it anymore, she just had to kiss him now. With their mouths attached, she pinned him down on the sofa with her on top, then mumbled against his heavenly soft lips, "I'm not biased, you're simply, objectively, the best."

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From Harry's and Layla's descriptions of the man, Y/N imagined Mason to be as sexy as today's Zac Efron. And she was sure not disappointed, because he was doubtlessly an attractive man!

Mason'd been living away from home for so long that you could barely make out the English accent in his voice, that took away the probably only thing that these two men had in common in Y/N's opinion. While Harry was cool, calm and collected most of the time, Mason seemed to have too much energy to spare. When he first saw Y/N, he pulled her into a hug and kissed her cheek even though they'd never met before. Such overwhelming friendliness caught the girl by surprise though the hug didn't last for more than two seconds because her overprotective boyfriend broke them apart soon after.

"Okay, that's enough," Harry announced, pulling her back to his side while staring hostilely at his least favorite cousin, probably, person, in the world. Y/N swore she'd never seen him glare at anyone else that way.

"Harold!"

"Not even my name, but whatever."

"You're still as funny as I remember!"

Mason slightly punched the younger man's shoulder while giving him the biggest smile, yet Harry had the same straight face. It didn't take a genius to notice how much Harry hated his cousin. So Y/N assumed Mason knew, yet overlooked it to act all amiable towards Harry, which didn't make him such a bad person like Harry said he was.

"Why are we standing here?" Y/N broke the awkward silence between them three. "Let's go inside!"

"Wait, my fiancé should be here in a sec."

"Fiancé?" Harry snorted, thinking it was another lame joke, but Mason didn't seem like he was joking at all.

"Oh, there she is!"

The lift door opened, turning Harry's and Y/N's attention to the woman who had just stepped out.

"Fuck," Harry cursed when she removed her sunglasses. And without waiting for Y/N to ask, Mason gave her the answer right away by calling out his lover's name.

"Stephanie!"

Wait, Stephanie?! Y/N dropped her jaw. The-most-beautiful-girl-Harry-had-ever-seen Stephanie?! Harry's-high-school-dream-girl Stephanie?

"Remember Harold, darling?" Mason put a hand on the girl's back, pointing the other to his cousin. Stephanie, blonde-haired, long-legged, flawless-skinned Stephanie, put on a beam and goes in to hug Harry, who was still too in shock to even lift his arms and return the gesture.

"Wow, it's been years! How are you, Harry?" She asked after pulling away.

And Harry had to clear his throat to regain his composure. "I'm...okay. This is my fiancé, Y/N."

"H-Hi..." Y/N cracked a smile when the attention was switched to her. All of her self-esteem had vanished to make room for this woman's presence there.

"She is the most beautiful girl I've ever seen," Y/N whispered to Harry after the other couple had entered their flat.

With a cheeky smile, he squeezed her hand and told her, "that's not true, you see your reflection everyday."

She snorted and rolled her eyes in reaction to his unnecessary remark, but to say she was tired of these lame flirting attempts would be a massive lie.

"I'd give that pickup line a 8/10, 7 plus one because you're cute."

"Yussss, new record!" Harry made her laugh by punching the air. Afterwards she felt much less stressed out and intimidated by the goddess in her living room, and could happily join Stephanie and Mason on the sofa.

The conversation began pretty casual. Mason mostly bragged about his perfect life in Barcelona and his new sport car, it was actually not so bad, it was tolerable. But that was until the relationship topic was brought up.

"So how did you two meet?" Mason asked, reaching out with the intention to touch Y/N's knee, but Harry was quick to put his hand there first so his cousin had no choice but to back away subtly. The funny thing here was how unbothered Stephanie was. Harry assumed she was probably too used to her fiancé being handsy with everyone to bat an eye, or she herself had never had a problem with that, which made sense if they were really engaged. Yeah, 'really', because Harry refused to believe their engagement at around the same time as his was just a coincidence.

"We were flatmates in uni," Y/N answered with a smile while Harry was smiling proudly at her.

"That's so cute!" Replied Stephanie as she turned to Mason. "Mason and I actually dated in high school! We broke up a few months after graduation but destiny brought us back together on a sunny afternoon on a beach in Bali. He asked me to marry him a week later."

"Wow...A week?" Harry laughed humorlessly as he pretended to look shocked. "Was it the same week that you heard about my engagement, Mason?"

"Baby..." Y/N tapped slightly on his leg to remind him to be polite.

Mason would be a fool not to recognize the sarcasm in Harry's question, but he was anything but a fool. He beamed at his younger cousin and gave him a shrug.

"I can't remember but if it was, lovely coincidence, huh?"

"Lovely." Harry nodded. He had to fake smiling so much his jaw began to hurt now.

"So Y/N, love, what do you do for a living?" Mason asked Y/N. And Harry wanted nothing more than to punch that smirk off his face.

"I work for a PR firm."

"Aww I'm sure you're good at that job, you're such a sweet girl."

Harry widened his eyes at the way his cousin emphasized the word 'sweet' in reference to his girl. In fact, Harry surely had something to say about it, but fortunately, Y/N stole his opportunity to speak as soon as he opened his mouth.

"Harry told me you were a journalist, right?"

"Yeah, that was also how I met Steph again." He turned to kiss his fiancé on the spot between her neck and shoulder, in a sensual way that made Harry and Y/N feel very uncomfortable. "I came to Bali on a business trip and Stephanie just happened to be shooting her new modeling campaign there."

"Wow, you're a model?" Y/N asked. But she could already see that coming.

"Yes! I would just hook Harry up with some of my friends but too bad he's engaged!"

"What?"

"Y/N, sweetie, I'm joking!" Stephanie burst into laughter and Y/N had to stop herself from pointing out how rude her joke was. Instead she just pretended to laugh along.

The awkwardness surrounding the two couples was getting hard to bear so Mason did them a favor (not really) by proposing an idea. "Harold, maybe we should go for a drink tonight and let the ladies spend some time together?"

Stephanie was more than thrilled with the suggestion; Harry and Y/N, on the other hand, were the complete opposite.

"I don't know I've got work to do..."

"Come on, Y/N! It'll be fun! I haven't had a girl friend in so long!" Stephanie pouted, holding the other girl's hand with both of hers and brought them to her chest. "I only hang out with models and most of them are boring and shallow! You, on the other hand, is the loveliest average person I've ever met!" Average?! "I like you so much already! Please don't say no!"

Of course Y/N didn't want to hang out with Stephanie. However, she saw this as a good opportunity for Harry to mend his relationship with Mason. Those two needed to talk it all out and the only way for them to do that was to leave them alone with each other.

"Oh...Okay...if you insist," Y/N blurt, only to receive a 'what are you doing?' stare from Harry.

"Try to have fun, baby. I'll make it up to you, I promise," Y/N whispered apologetically to him before standing up with Stephanie.

"Lock the door on the way out! Love you!"

"Love you too! Be safe!" Harry shouted after his fiancé as he watched her getting dragged out of the door, given only enough time to take only her bag.

"Your girl is cute," Mason commented once the ladies had already left, making Harry wish there had been a mute button to shut his cousin up for the rest of the night, sadly you couldn't do that to real life people. Harry could only try to tolerate, saving all the frustration to rant about to his girl once he got home.

Mason stood up, stretching out his limbs as the corners of his lips turned up. "So, Harold, just like old time huh?"

"Just like old time," Harry mumbled lifelessly as he rose from his seat as well. Oh how he wished Y/N could be by his side right now.

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From her past experiences, it was safe to say Y/N was awful at detecting bad people. She'd got a good heart, she'd been told that so many times. But what was the point of believing in the good nature of people if some refused to discover the goodness in themselves? That, however, didn't stop her from doing what she did best, creating second chances.

She believed whatever had happened between Harry and Mason in the past should've stayed in the past and they could work things out after tonight. And Stephanie, she could be rude and shallow at times but Layla used to be like that too and now they were best friends. So, anything could happen. People could change. And to be fair, hanging out with Stephanie wasn't exactly an awful experience. She actually gave great fashion advice and she was straightforward, which was good. They hadn't found anything in common yet, but the night was still young. Maybe at the end of today, they would be close enough to actually go on double dates (okay, that was a far reach but it didn't hurt to be positive, right?).

"Are you having fun, Y/N?" Stephanie asked then she turned to scold the lady who was filing her nails for accidentally hurting her. Y/N had no idea why they were getting their nails done at 9PM but Stephanie said this was on her schedule and she couldn't cheat on her daily beauty routine by skipping it.

The younger girl working on Y/N's nails asked her if she liked pastel blue or pastel pink, and Y/N just waved her hand and told her to pick whichever she preferred before turning back to Stephanie.

"I am, thanks for asking, look Stephanie—"

"Call me Steph."

"Okay...Steph. Do you know much about Harry's and Mason's feud?"

"What are you talking about?" Stephanie chuckled. "Mason loves Harry."

What do you know, sister? You agreed to marry him after seeing him again for one week.

"I don't think so," said Y/N. "Harry told me Mason tried to drown him once."

"That was an accident! Everyone knew that! Harry fell into the lake and if it hadn't been for Mason who jumped in to save him, he could've died!"

Y/N rolled her eyes and decided she shouldn't argue with someone who didn't know what she was talking about.

"So Y/N..." Stephanie trailed off, smiling widely. "Have you started planning the wedding yet?"

"Uh no, it's still too soon for us."

"Oh honey it's never too soon! Men can just change their minds! Are you sure you want to wait?"

Stephanie's idea about marriage was a bit absurd to Y/N. She wouldn't say it though, instead she laughed wryly. "I'm sure. I know H and he's not the type to ask someone to marry him if he's gonna change his mind a week later."

"Well, whatever you say, but Mason and I are getting married at the end of this month and you two are so invited!" Stephanie threw her hands in the air enthusiastically and nearly kicked the lady who was painting her toe nails in the face. Y/N had to apologize for her, even though the model didn't seem to care that she'd almost accidentally assaulted someone.

"That's...fast," Y/N replied, not knowing what else to say. "Do you have like...a wedding theme?"

"I haven't come up with one yet, have you already got one in mind?"

"Ever since I was a little girl I've wanted an Alice in Wonderland theme for my wedding," Y/N happily told her new acquaintance (because using the word friend at this point would be a bit too much), who seemed pretty interested in the idea. "It'd be so cute, I haven't told Harry yet though, but that's definitely my number one option."

"Lovely!" Stephanie giggled, nodding her head. "You know, you're such a perfect match for Harry. I actually thought he would end up with Olivia."

"Olivia?"

"His childhood best friend," said Stephanie.

Of course Y/N remembered Olivia who'd tried to steal her boyfriend once! She just didn't expect her name would be brought up in this conversation. What does Olivia have to do with this?

"I suppose you already know Harry asked me to the Prom and I said no."

Yeah I do, thought Y/N. You went with Mason instead!

"My friend told me Harry wanted to ask me and I thought I might say yes when he did, because Harry was such a hottie! But then Mason told me Harry only wanted to ask me out to make Olivia jealous."

"But Olivia moved away a long time before senior year."

"I know, Mason said they were in love and still keeping in touch."

Y/N knew it was just a lie so Stephanie would go to Prom with him, she was just surprised this girl didn't know it yet. Did she even know this person she was marrying in a month?

"If it weren't for Olivia, I would've ended up going to Prom with Harry!" Stephanie giggled while shaking her head. "I mean, can you imagine what would happen if we'd gone to Prom together? Maybe Harry would be my future husband, not Mason! How crazy is that? Although...we'd make lovely babies, Harry and I."

"Yeah, yeah, I get it." Y/N quickly interrupted the girl. She didn't blame Stephanie, who apparently never thought twice before she started speaking. However, now that she mentioned it, Y/N couldn't help but wonder what her fiancé would feel if he knew he could've ended up with his high school crush instead, who was now a freaking model! Would it make the idea of marrying her less...enticing?

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Mason gulped down another pine and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as Harry watched him in awe.

"Ten seconds." The older man slammed his hand down on the table and gave his cousin a smug look. "Unlike you I don't suddenly forget how to drink after getting engaged."

Harry scoffed but decided to let that one go.

"What's with the sudden engagement anyway?" He chuckled and put down his beer. "I get that you need to prove to everyone that you're better than me but dragging Steph into this? That's low."

"Hey!" Mason drunkenly pointed a finger to Harry's face while glaring at him with hooded eyes. "Not everything is about you. I love Steph. Just because you can't have her, doesn't mean you can say whatever the fuck you want."

"It was years ago!" Harry huffed. "You can have Stephanie. I'm happy with Y/N, and I love her."

"She's turned you into a boring little boy huh?" Mason reached out to touch Harry's face, but Harry pushed his fingers away immediately. He furrowed his eyebrows and finished his beer, trying to be the responsible adult here although he was not very much more sober than his cousin.

"I chose to grow up, this has nothing to do with her, and don't talk  my girl that way, asshole."

"Okay, let's not talk about her, let's talk about you and how lame you've become." Mason cracked up and Harry just ordered another pine without giving him his attention, which triggered the older guy to continue speaking. "How about we play the little game we used to play huh? Remember that?"

"No, no, no." Harry shook his head, smiling tipsily. "I'm engaged, I'm not gonna ask for some random girl's number."

"You don't have to call them afterwards! Just to see you and me who gets more numbers at the end of the night."

"I'm engaged," he repeated, looking slightly annoyed now. "I'm pretty sure that's also considered cheating on your partner..."

"It's not." Mason snorted, patting his cousin a few times on the back. "Jeez, I'm engaged too you know. Cheating means you're fantasizing about someone else or fucking someone else, this is different. We go to a random girl, ask for her number, then move on to the next. I swear most of the people here are drunk and by the end of the night they won't even remember our face."

"I don't think it's a good idea."

"You gotta have some fun, Harold! Y/N fell for you when you were this wild thing and if you keep turning into a boring old man, sooner or later she'll be bored of you and run off with some cooler guy." Mason put a hand on Harry's shoulder and added in, "I bet not a single woman in this bar would want to fuck you now because you're such a pussy it shows."

If there hadn't been alcohol in his system, he wouldn't have let those words get to him and said no without a second thought. Sober Harry was much smarter and made better decisions. But Harry was a bit far from sober now, and even though he regretted it soon after he nodded his head, Harry still agreed to take part in his cousin's little game.

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"I did a bad thing tonight."

Y/N was taken aback by her fiancé unexpected confession as soon as he entered their flat, drunk, then pulled her into a bear hug.

"It's okay, I knew you were out drinking with Mason." She chuckled and attempted to withdraw herself from his embrace, but he grabbed onto her hips to keep her from leaving his side.

"It's not that." He pouts, bringing one hand to cup her face. "I..."

"You what?" She quietly laughed though she found nothing funny about his strange behaviors. "H, you're making me worried, just tell me what you did."

"I asked some girls at the bar for their phone numbers."

"You did what?!" She almost shouted at him and pushed him away to take a step back, as an instinct, Harry rushed forward to take hold of her hands.

"I can explain."

She nodded rapidly, eyebrows furrowed at him. "Oh, you'd better explain before I kill you!"

And he knew it was not just an empty threat, she would kill him if he failed to give her a proper explanation.

"It was a game that Mason and I used to play at high school parties. Whoever got more phone numbers at the end of the party won."

"And what did you get for winning, Harry?!"

"Just the feeling of winning I guess..."

"Unbelievable!" She raised her voice all of a sudden, making Harry jump. "I'm wearing your ring on my finger and you went out flirting—"

"Not actually flirting but—"

"Don't jump into my mouth!"

"Sorry, go on." He instantly stared down at his feet and heard her take a deep breath before letting it all out and continuing because she wasn't done with him just yet.

"You did that just to prove what? That you're better than your cousin? No, Harry Edward Styles, that doesn't make you better than him, in fact you're much more like him than you think! Can't you see what he's doing? He came here to screw up your life and it's actually working because you're letting him!"

"I couldn't let him win! He's already got the most beautiful girl in school as his fiancé." Wrong move, Harry. Wrong move! Code red!

"And you're stuck with me, is that what you're saying?"

"N-No! Absolutely not!"

"You're upset because he ended up with a model and you're getting married to an average girl like me."

"I never said that!"

"You meant that!"

Harry thought he'd better shut up before he unintentionally said something worse and had her throw his proposal ring to his face or something. He knew his Y/N would never do something like that, but it was the worst scenario he could think of so far.

"I'm going to bed now," she spoke after a moment of silence. She didn't ask him to go pack his bags and get lost, which was good, yet she seemed so disappointed in him, which was...not good.

"Turn off the lights, okay?"

"Okay..." He nodded then watched her head back to their room in silence. He wasn't fucked, but he knew he would be if he didn't do something about it. First, he needed to get sobered up though.

So Harry decided to take a shower meanwhile giving his love time to be alone and calm down before they had 'the talk', you know, the one couples had after both parties had calmed down from an argument so they could come to an agreement how they wanted the fight to end. He hated that talk, not really, because it either ended with great sex or him sleeping on the sofa. Considering how she'd stopped yelling at him before she walked away, this time...definitely the sofa.

When Harry returned to the bedroom, Y/N immediately sat up on the bed. He swallowed and scratched the back of his head timidly as he spoke up, "don't worry, I'm just gonna grab my pillow."

"Why?"

"To sleep on the sofa. Don't tell me I don't deserve a pillow too."

The frown on his face made her chuckle. Y/N gently patted down on his side of the bed as she told him to get in with her. She wouldn't need to say it twice. Harry almost ran to her and in just a split second he was already snuggling in her arms.

She let him rest his head on her chest while stroking his hair like she usually did, which he loved. And so they lied there for a while, Harry staring at Y/N, who was staring at the ceiling. She was thinking of something, and he was too exhausted try and read her mind.

"You're not mad anymore?" He asked quietly.

"Can't stay mad at you. Trust me I've tried." Her answer put a beam upon his face. "I'm sorry I yelled at you though."

"I deserved that, I was an idiot."

"I agree with that."

"Hey!" He scoffs, making her laugh.

"What you did was stupid, but you were honest with me and I appreciate that." Y/N kissed his forehead, feeling him shifting to get comfortable as one of his arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer.

"I don't know what happened love," he started. "I turned back into that same immature high school boy when I was with Mason. I guess he made me feel so insecure about myself that I just had to prove him wrong, even by winning a stupid game."

"What's there to be insecure about?"

Harry gave Y/N this look as if she'd just asked him if one plus one was two, because to him the answer was pretty obvious.

"He was always my grandparents' favorite. He was good at school, he was popular, he hung out with cool people. Now he's still doing better than me, he's rich and good-looking and—"

"Stop it!" Y/N laughed slightly as she cut him off. "Why do you have to see this as a competition? You're better than that. I know that he came here with his fiancé to rub it in our faces, but you allowed him to get to you." Harry puckered up his eyebrows, biting his lip as he listened to her. "I think he's secretly jealous of you because you don't even have to try hard and put other people down to get such a great life. Your life is actually better than his if you think about it. I mean, you have good friends, a cat, a family, a job that you love, and me. Those are the ones that matter, not people like Mason."

"You're right." He breathed, looking up at her.

She didn't intend to tell him this, but she thought she had to because he'd been honest with her. "Stephanie told me she wanted to go to the Prom with you, not him."

"I know."

Her eyes grew wide when she heard those two words. "You do?"

"Yeah, he told me how he made up the whole Olivia thing. What a dick. But why do you think it'd matter?" Harry released a laugh as he propped his head up on his elbow, gazing down at her.

"Never mind, it's silly." She shyly smiled and covered her face with her hands, but he removed them both so they could look at one another as they spoke.

"No, tell me. I want to know."

"Okay so I was afraid you'd feel disappointed after knowing Stephanie's engaged to Mason when that could be you if you'd gone to Prom with her."

"Awww, love..."

Y/N's face turned red as she started giggling. "I told you it was silly! Just forget it!"

"It is silly, Y/N. She's just some girl I fancied in high school, who cares if she's a model now and engaged to that asshole. I'm already engaged to the woman I love, I don't care about her."

Seeing the smile on his girl's face made Harry realize how right she was to say his life was better than Mason's. Mason either asked Steph to marry him because he couldn't tell lust from love or he just wanted to prove he was always one step ahead of Harry; whatever the reason was, Harry knows those two weren't in love and knew nothing about each other. He, on the contrary, was marrying the love of his life, his best friend, the kindest and sweetest person he'd ever known. So yes, this might not be a competition, but Harry thought he'd already won.

"Okay let's put this all behind us and move on, alright?" Y/N declares. "No more talks about Mason or Stephanie. Just focus on our thing from now on."

"Agreed." Harry gladly nods and is more than relieved to finally leave the feud with his cousin in the past.

Y/N, nevertheless, doesn't know that she will be the one to go against her own words, not until a week later, when she receives a wedding invitation from Mason and Stephanie.

"That bitch!!!"

"Y/N, language! Treasure can hear you!" Harry covers the cat's tiny ears as he watches his girl fall down by his side on the sofa.

"Here! See it for yourself!" She handed him the wedding invitation which had been sent in a fancy-looking white envelope. The entire thing had been hand-written, using sparkly gold ink. If they could be this extra for just their wedding invitations, Y/N couldn't imagine how their wedding was gonna be.

"An Alice in Wonderland themed wedding?" Harry chuckled as he read quickly through the lines. "Clever!"

"Of course it's clever!" Y/N cried out. "It's my idea! She stole it!"

"Aww baby you've never told me you wanted a—"

"It doesn't matter anymore, she stole my dream wedding theme!"

"Y/N," Harry calmly spoke while stroking the kitty on his lap. "Remember what you said, no more competition."

"But—"

"Baby, there are plenty of other literature classics for you to choose from, let it go, don't let this get to you," he said, picking up their cat's two paws to wave at her, that made her go soft again. "I'll help you come up with a better theme, yeah? We'll have a much cooler wedding and those people won't even be invited. Besides, we both know one of them is gonna file a divorce after a few weeks into their marriage, a month's top, I bet it's gonna be Stephanie."

The crinkles between Y/N's brows slowly eased as Harry's encouraging words had calmed her down. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before exhaling to retrieve her composure.

"Okay, you're right..." Y/N raised a forefinger. "I'm gonna let this go. But I'm not going to their wedding, because if I see her again I will fuck her up and it certainly won't be pretty!"

Then she soon noticed the strange look on his face.

"What?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Nothing." Harry's dimples digged holes in his cheeks as he brought his lips down to lay a soft kiss on the corner of her mouth. "I just love you a lot, s'all."

And as simply as that, he got to see her smiling again.

[itsqueenofchains]

Again (Scarlett Johansson Drabble Request)

A/N: This was asked a months ago, so whoever who requested, if you still visiting my blog, I hope you like it.

Requested by: Anonymus.

“Are you being sarcastic?” “Sarcasm, what’s that, can you eat it?”

“I’d all my life planned but this asshole had to come and ruin everything, goddamn I love her”

Warnings: language (I guess)

Pairing: Scarlett Johansson x fem!reader

 “Fuck” was the only she could think when she saw you again.

Of all people in the world you were the last she expected to find right there.

I mean, you hated all that stuff of Hollywood, the great screen, the red carpet, paparazzis everywhere and lack of intimacy.

After all that was one of the reasons you both broke up.

You met when she was filming Vicky Cristina Barcelona, in that exact city of Spain.

You two easily get on with each other, and you managed to dazzle her under the lights of the great city and the sunrise in its beaches.

You had such a nice time together that she always remembered with affection.

But everything went down when she started to appear in magazines, when rumours started to be heard along the streets, and she had to put her career before you.

It’s fair to say that it was a difficult decision for her, after all you had taken out from her feelings that no one before had done; but she was decided to be a great actress, to be the best, and she did it, by paying a high price.

You understood it when she told you, you wished her good luck and removed her number from your phone.

But that didn’t impede you to cry her during the night and miss her warmth.

It seemed impossible that your roads could meet again, but there you were, pulling the rope against Chris Evans.

-You’re too strong for your size- Chris told you beneath his tighten teeth.

His face was red and he was trying his best to defeat you.

-Maybe you’re too weak for yours- you replied.

Your feet were anchored to the ground, decided to win that stupid competition.

Mackie and Stan were looking at you while betting and mocking.

Scarlett was still in shock.

-’Kay fellas, enough for now- Joe Russo made his entrance in the room.

Chris and you released the rope at the same time, almost making the other one fall off.

He had entered for the other door so you were backwards Scarlett, so she took advantage to approach to the group without being seen.

-So y’all know what’s going on with the movie and we have talked about the amount of action scenes this will have- Joe went straight to the point- so, as Marvel wants the best for his fans, they also look for the best for his actors.

-How much did they pay you for say that?- Mackie asked with a playful smirk.

-We’re talking about you, not about me- Russo answered, gaining a general laugh- so for this film we have the best trainer for you.

He said that looking at you and making a gest for go with him.

-I wanted to be the one into present her to you but I’ve seen that you had already met, but to make it official, she is (Y/N) (Y/L), and she will be the one into train you during this year.

The guys congratulated you while Joe explained them other stuff related with the film, but your eyes were locked on the green ones looking at you.

When Joe left, you and the cast arranged the next morning to start with the training, then everyone left but Scarlett.

You both just looked at each other, in silence, not knowing very well what to say.

You were even more beautiful than the last time she saw you.

-Have I change that much?- you asked her smiling.

She couldn’t more than smile back.

-No… just- she shook her head- I didn’t expect to find you in a place like this.

-Oh, so you expected to find me…- you said with a grin.

-Y.yes… No!... I mean- she tried, a bit flustered.

You always managed to make her nervous.

-Don’t worry- you said giggling- you don’t have to answer… yet.

You winked at her while putting on your jacket.

-What does that mean?- she asked you.

-See you tomorrow, Scar!- you said leaving the place.

She kept looking to the door after you left; she wasn’t very sure if she should be worried or happy to see you again.

Next days weren’t going to be easier.

And they weren’t actually.

When Joe said you were the best, he really meant it, I mean, it was a two hours training, but it seemed to never ends.

To Scarlett was even worse since you trained with them and she usually stood gawking looking at you doing the exercise while explaining to the group.

Unlike she thought, her time with you wasn’t awkward, you treated her kindly and friendly, like you had never been other thing than old good friends.

She wasn’t very sure how to feel about it; and to be honest she wasn’t even sure how she felt about you.

Chris clarified that to her.

After some months of training and helping them with the actions scene they will have to do, spending almost entire days with them, they started to invite you to hang out with them.

You were exactly as she remembered you: kind, funny, nice, a bit more sarcastic and always ready to make any unexpected thing.

But she wasn’t the only one capable to see these things.

That girl that brought you the drinks also brought you her number and name, and Chris awareness of Scarlett’s feelings.

-You knew her from before- it wasn’t a question.

He was taking her to the hotel. Sebastian was taking you and Anthony in his car.

-You want to tell me what happened between you two?- he asked looking for a moment at her.

-What do you mean?- she asked.

He snorted.

-You used to be a thing and you can’t deny it- he assured- I’ve seen the way you look at her.

- I don’t…

-And also the way you looked at the girl that served us the drinks- he added.

-Go fuck yourself- she said.

Chris laughed.

-It isn’t bad to love someone, you know?

-But I don’t love her- Scarlett said, more to herself than to Chris.

Evans looked at her and didn’t pressed her with the theme.

They arrived to the hotel and he parked in the hotel’s parking.

Scarlett was getting off the car when Chris took her hand.

-Just… don’t lie to yourself and waste a golden opportunity.

He let her go and closed the car.

Scarlett was a mess of thoughts and emotions, she knew Chris was right but she didn’t want to accept it, after all, she left and put her career before you; and then you come back in her life and she isn’t sure about how she feels and you still being as lovely as always and…

-I’d all my life planned and this asshole had to come and ruin everything, goddamn I love her- she said to herself.

-You love who?- a voice asked from behind.

She hadn’t realised she has already arrived on her floor, that was the same used by all the cast and also you; but worse of all she hadn’t saw you going out from your room.

-I thought you were with Sebastian- she said trying to change the theme.

-Yeah, we arrive sooner and I was about to meet with him on the hall but this seem more interesting- you explained- who’s the lucky one?

-Those aren’t your business- she said quickly.

-C’mon, after all we have gone through you still don’t trusting me?- you asked.

-Is my private life- she said.

-As if I haven’t been part of your private life- you answered with a grin.

She had to admit you were right in there, but she won’t.

-That has nothing to do with this- she answer.

-Yeah… sure, it’s not like you were trying to avoid your feeling again or something- you said, shaking you head.

-Are you being sarcastic?- she hoped so.

-Sarcasm?- you asked, turning around to go- what’s that? Can you eat it?

“If I would tell you what you could eat…”

-What?- you stopped your way and look at her again.

Scarlett paled. She had thought it… right?

-N...nothing, I’ve said nothing- she tried, but to be the great actress she was she didn’t convinced you.

She wasn’t a great liar to be honest.

-No, no, no, no ,no- a surprised smirk trying to appear in your face- I may be stupid but not deaf. What’s really going on, Scar?

Though you still looking surprised, Scarlett perceived the worry in your voice, and she tried to convince herself that was just the worry you show for a friend and not the kind of worry you had felt for each other long ago.

-I told you that those aren’t your business- she said low.

-Actually they are my business if they make you like this- you told her- I just want to help you, Scar.

-Don’t, say it!- sho couldn’t handle it more- Don’t fucking say that you just want to help me when I think my life is perfectly balanced like it is, and you come back turning everything upside down, making me wonder if I really took the right decision and thinking that may be I fucked up everything because the asshole of Chris made me see that I still fucking in love with you!

By the time she finished she realized that she wasn’t gesticulating but wrapped in your arms, with your hands running down her hair and approaching her for the waist.

She relaxed in your hug and buried her face in your neck.

-Not to fuck up this beautiful moment- you said- but what a drama to say that you like me again.

She giggled.

-This is Hollywood- she told you- and I don’t like you again.

She moved her head to be able to look at you, but not getting out of the hug.

-I never stopped doing it -her hands were around your neck and yours in her waist- and if you want… we could…

-Hell yes- you answered.

You approached your face to hers and sank in her green eyes before sank in her mouth again.

Soft and sweet, like she was. She tangled her hands in your hair and your traveled to her lower back, caressing her. You both melted in the kiss.

She bit your lower lip before you both broke the kiss because of the lack of air.

Her hands travelled to you face and caressed you.

-I missed you, babe- she said with a smirk.

TAGGED LIST:

@bestbeforeyouleft

[scgdoeswhat]

Soccer Saturday

Summary: The entire Endless Summer gang head over to Jake, Cris, and Diego’s place to take in some World Cup action. (Jake x F!MC, Grace x Aleister, Craig x Zahra)

Rating: PG

Words: 1759

Author’s Notes: Drabble turned fic for @mechaspirit and the “Who sits on the other’s lap” OTP prompt! Thanks to Elena for giving me the idea for a World Cup viewing party! Since this is as close to real time as I’m getting, I’m sticking this in the Wonderful AU and making it one of the first in chronological order. Jake and the gang don’t belong to me (unfortunately), but the story does. No Beta used.

Also tagging @xo-endlessmayhem-xo, @itsagoodluckkiss and @princesstopgun because I’ve barraged them the last two weeks with footballers, ha.

  June 30, 2018

The sound of boisterous laughter carried throughout the condominium as Cris listened in from the kitchen. A few months had passed since the entire crew were able to be together and by some stroke of luck, everyone was congregated in her, Jake, and Diego’s place just as she planned.

Everyone had been so busy lately. Between finals, making up the lost semester, and (most importantly to her) clearing Jake’s name, it had been the first time where the 12 of them could all hang out and relax with nothing looming over their heads. The timing couldn’t be more perfect, as this coincided with the World Cup – an event that she always associated with bringing those who were close to her all together.

To her knowledge, no one else except Aleister followed soccer – né football – like she did, but no one would turn down a reason to drink and party at 10 a.m. on a Saturday morning, either.

“Hey Princess! Where ya at? You’re missing all the action!” Jake hollered from the living room.

“I’m coming! Just bringing more beer and another bottle of champagne for the mimosas!” She replied, walking back and setting all the drinks on the coffee table. Looking up at the giant flat screen on the wall, she noticed the score line at 0-0. “What are you talking about? I didn’t miss anything; it’s still scoreless.”

Jake pulled her down onto the couch between him and Michelle, laughing as she yelped in surprise.

“I’m not talking about that, I’m talking about these two!” He pointed to a chortling Sean, who was busy lobbing mini croquettes and other small snacks into the mouth of an awaiting Craig.

“Dudes! Appreciate those a little more! I made them this morning!” Raj exclaimed as he watched the delicious projectiles sail through the air to their intended target.

Craig chewed and swallowed the tasty morsel. “Sorry, man! But just to let you know, they are insanely good.”

Zahra shook her head, waving her boyfriend off. “As if I didn’t see Raj opening the box and sticking these things straight into the oven earlier!” She reached out and plucked an incoming croquette from Sean out of the air before popping it into her mouth.

Raj put an offended hand over his chest. “Z – are you implying I didn’t make these?! I’m hurt!”

“Damn straight, I am,” she grinned. “Especially since Craig and I knew you were up late sampling your new stash of… let’s call it, ‘medication.’”

“Hey, at least it’s all legal now. And I do need it for medicinal purposes! Anyway, since you found me out, everyone want me to make more of them?”

A resounding chorus of “Yeahs” rang out amid laughter as Raj rose and headed towards the kitchen.

“Aww, well now what else is there for Sean to throw at me?”

The quarterback looked around, spying a giant bowl of chicharron.

“Don’t even think about it, pretty boy.” Estela’s hands appeared out of nowhere, making sure the bowl of fried pork rinds was out of his lengthy reach.

Jake chuckled as he grabbed a handful as Estela walked by, heading back to the table where she rejoined Quinn, Grace, and Aleister. He fed Cris a small piece and she surveyed the scene in front of her with a smile on her face.

At that moment, Diego came out of his bedroom and automatically zeroed in on Sean and Craig, who had resorted to tossing pretzels at each other.

“Guys, I swear, you better not be making a mess! I’m going to be the one stuck cleaning it up, knowing these two!” He pointed at his two flatmates.

“Hey, what do you mean? We clean up!” Cris exclaimed.

“Yeah sure, when you two aren’t all over each other!” Quinn chimed in, throwing a wadded-up napkin at the couple.

“Oh, leave them be,” Grace interjected, smiling at Aleister. “I think it’s really cute they’re finally able to just be normal, especially after clearing Jake’s name.”

“I don’t know if ‘cute’ would be the word I would use, my dear,” the Englishman scoffed, crossing his arms. “You wouldn’t be using it either had you witnessed what I walked in on that day.”

Everyone started howling in amusement as Cris buried her face into Jake’s shoulder, while projectiles ranging from rolled up napkins to sweet and savory edibles were thrown their way.

Jake smirked, lapping up the attention. “Hey, don’t hate because my ridiculously hot wife can’t keep her hands off my – “

“OH. KAY. DOODLEJUMPS. GOT MORE CROQUETTES HERE. NO NEED TO ELABORATE, DUDE!”

“The thing is, that shit is tame compared to what usually comes out of his mouth!” Diego shook his head as the whole room doubled over cackling as Raj reentered the room.

At the table, Grace leaned over, whispering into Aleister’s ear, “But can you really blame them? How many times were we almost caught the same way you walked in on them?”

Aleister’s face turned red at his girlfriend’s words, all while she shot him an innocent smile with her hand on his leg.

On the other side of the room, Zahra busied herself making drinks that barely passed for mimosas, with minimal orange juice being used. “You know, I was skeptical about coming over so early for some soccer match, even under the guise of acceptable drinking before breakfast but now that it’s turned into a roast? So worth it.”

Sean turned his attention to the screen, remembering there was a match on. “So, we’re watching France versus Argentina? Isn’t that Messi guy on Argentina?”

“Yeah, he’s on there. Plays his club soccer at Barcelona. He might be getting older, but his footwork is still great,” Craig answered nonchalantly, garnering stared from the entire group. “What? Just because I play football means I can’t appreciate the world’s football? There’s a reason why they call it ‘The Beautiful Game,’ man.”

“I’m more or a Ronaldo girl,” Quinn interrupted, smiling widely. “And Portugal are playing after this, so I hope everyone’s staying for that one, too!”

Estela scoffed as she waved her hand dismissively. “You can have your Messi and Ronaldo. I’ll take James Rodriguez. He’s still underrated. Too bad he’s injured because he’s so talented.”

Michelle had her phone out, googling the players being mentioned and nodded unconvincingly at the pictures she was pulling up.

“I don’t know, I can’t really pinpoint the change, but Ronaldo used to look better before – “ she looked up at the screen, the camera focusing on a player in a solid blue kit, his brown hair slicked back, blue eyes sparkling while his tongue was currently sticking out. “Who is THAT? Oh my God, I’m not even into facial hair on guys, but that guy is HOT.”

Aleister looked at the television and rolled his eyes. “Olivier Giroud? He’s French and he recently transferred to my club from Arsenal.”

“He had me at ‘French,’” Michelle giggled as she started googling photos of him.

“I don’t really like soccer,” Jake said to no one in particular. “They fall over if someone breathes on them.” The referee’s whistle rang through the TV’s speakers, and as if on cue, a replay of a player who wasn’t touched but had fallen to the ground was shown in slow motion. “See? My point exactly.”

“Don’t get me wrong,” Sean added, “these guys are totally athletic, but I don’t think they could handle the physicality of football.”

Diego snickered, as if he was holding a secret. “You’re unusually quiet about this, Cris. I know you have an opinion on this.”

Cris threw her head back, chuckling. “I totally watch soccer, but since the Azzurri didn’t qualify, I’m not emotionally invested in anyone this time.” A feline grin graced her face. “I’m just observing. Observing and admiring all this wonderful ‘talent’ on display. And yes, Giroud is very... talented.”

Michelle gasped and started giggling uncontrollably. “Cris. Look at THIS.” She shoved her phone in her friend’s face, a giddy energy rolling off her.

Cris screeched at the screen as both girls shot up off the couch and bounced over to the table, proceeding to show the animated gif to Quinn. The redhead squealed in delight, which prompted Zahra to come over.

“Nice find, Meech,” Zahra smiled slyly.

Grace’s eyes grew to the eyes of saucers as she sat back down next to Aleister, who gave her a questioning look.

“Trust me, you don’t want to know. You’ll never look at him the same way again.”

He nodded, completely trusting her judgment.

All the while, Estela sat in her seat cracking up. “You know, he’s not really my type. But I do enjoy a good piece of meat once in a while.”

Michelle looked at the TV, down at her phone, then back to the TV. “Well, now I know who I’m rooting for!”

Cris tilted her head while looking at the phone, grinning. “Damn, if I didn’t have my roots, he’d almost make me switch loyalties. This, “ she pointed at the small screen, “This is very pleasant to look at. Let me just say. Wow!”

“You know, it’s not like I’m sitting right here or anything.” Jake pouted, crossing his arms.

She turned around and looked at her moping husband.

“Awww, baby, you know you’re the only one for me. Olivier Giroud can’t even hold a candle to you.” She walked over to the couch and sat on his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck as she gave him a quick peck on the cheek. One of Jake’s arms encircled her waist, holding her close to his body.

“Never mind the fact that he’s a rich soccer player, with brown hair and blue eyes, a.k.a. totally her type, and not to mention smoking hot!” Diego said loudly, chiding his best friend’s man while taking a seat on the couch.

“Diego, you’re not helping, you ass!” Jake retorted, flicking him off behind her back.

Cris cuddled up to Jake and hid her smile in the crook of his neck. She murmured, loud enough for only him to hear, “Don’t worry, Top Gun. You know you’ve got the only balls I’m interested in playing with.”

“OH GOD. I HEARD THAT. Why did I decide to sit here? I am scarred for life!” Diego shrieked while the room erupted into laughter.

The day continued full of merriment as the gang reveled in each other’s company. France went on to beat Argentina that day 4-3, but the memories made on that Saturday morning were once in a lifetime.

[rat-foot]

The art of measuring a manager

Are supporters and football pundits good at evaluating other managers? Often I think we're terrible at it.

We seem to horrendously over-estimate short-term results. 11 games ago Ronald Koeman was considered one of the hottest managerial prospects in World football, a sort-of candidate in waiting for the next Barcelona vacancy. Now his reputation seems to be in tatters. Has he changed pretty much overnight, or are we over-estimating short-term results? Is it reasonable to think that actually he's probably somewhere inbetween the management God he was previously assumed to be, and the disaster he is seen as now? Where is he actually on that scale? I have no idea. - that’s the truth.

The thing with managers is that they go in at clubs and have to respond to a huge variety of situations and requirements. Some managers are expected to run the whole squad and the transfer policy, others are just a first-team coach who cannot change an existing infrastructure around them. The circumstances are basically totally different each time. But the way in which these circumstances will be interpreted by others is very polarised - either you get results or you don't. I can understand it in a way - it's a results business as they always say. It's actually quite easy to work out if a manager has ultimately succeeded or failed at a club - what is much more difficult is to work out what their suitability for another job might be, or what their objective state of being is as an individual.

Let's face it, any manager needs luck. They might do things that improve their chances of having good luck or capitalising on it. I think a lot of what managers do is connected to risk assessment - they make decisions that they hope give them a better chance of success, rather than there being an objective right or wrong answer. Sometimes a club is in a position to be high-risk, sometimes not - different managers would suit different levels of risk. There's an awful lot of game theory in managing a club in my opinion - it's a topic that is very complicated and barely understood by many within the sport, let alone outside it. I don’t think we have much of a handle on this area at this stage of the sport’s evolution. There’s so much we don’t know.

Three hot managers in the premiership mid-table right now seem to be David Wagner, Marco Silva and Sean Dyche - all three are said to have been on West Ham’s wishlist for a replacement for Bilic. Here are some random thoughts on them. There are statistical models that suggest Huddersfield and Burnley may have underlying problems with their approach that might catch up with them. If Dyche and Wagner ended up relegated that doesn't mean they've done a bad job of course - we might conclude that's a par for them weighing up the strength of various squads. Silva is very hot right now, but my personal interpretation is that Watford have been an aggressively well-run club for a good few years and it's a good time to be their manager. Silva seems to have escaped criticism for Hull's relegation last season - I’m not quite sure why. Wagner is associated with a high-pressing style from his friend Klopp, but his Huddersfield side have at times seemed hopelessly defensive. Wagner's promotion squad was partly built by Stuart Webber, the sporting director who is now at Norwich. Dyche has been linked with jobs at Everton and West Ham, but his approach is absolutely singular in terms of its focus on defence, which is a style neither of those clubs seem particularly keen on over their history.

I'm just throwing points out in that last paragraph, but I’m trying to illustrate the confusion I feel about evaluating other managers. As a sort of side-project/hobby I have spent a good deal of the last five years trying to work out how to evaluate teams, players, managers. I feel I know how difficult it can be in comparison. There is no single or combinatory statistic that I know of that measures managers effectiveness, because it is so tied into so many other factors at a club. If a goalkeeper saves a shot, you can evaluate that in isolation - you cannot as easily evaluate the coaching that improved the chances of that save, or the likelihood of the tactical decisions that led to the goalkeeper having to face that shot. It's simply very complicated and there are no easy answers.

I think of managers I’ve seen over longer periods from game to game - the West Ham managers of recent decades. How much do I feel I can assess even them? Someone like Roeder had a really good season followed by a bad one (and a major health issue) - I still don’t know quite what I made of him, but I do know he was horrendously undermined on transfers in his second season. Zola also had a good followed by a bad season, but the club was on its knees financially in that period. Allardyce I thought I knew when he joined, but it still really took me 18 months before I felt I really knew what his mode of operation was as a tactician. Bilic had great results at first, but it was many months before my misgivings turned into a more bold negative appraisal. Like every human, managers are a mixed and often contradictory bag.

If I was at a club looking for a new manager, there's a few simpler heuristics you could use to narrow the field a bit, but ultimately I think the only way to really work out who to hire from the shortlist is to really research the candidates and evaluate them in detail. By which I mean I think you need a long interview with them - you need to work out what makes them tick. You need to really look at all the circumstances of their previous record in relation to the situations they found themselves in. You need to look at how much they fit what you want at the club, and whether they fit the squad you've already got. It's as much about what you feel about the state of your club as much as it is the ability of the manager coming in. There's a lot to think about, basically. I think so, anyway.

As a supporter, or a follower of football, or a pundit, there is no access to much of this, and nor is there a chance to have that sort of detailed first-hand experience with each manager. This is why I think most of us defer to very simplistic assessment of the personality and record of managers. I think we should accept that our own opinions on this sort of assessment are going to be very subjective.

I suppose what I'm trying to say is that I take a lot of opinions about managers with a major pinch of salt. Because to take them seriously it requires a level of trust of who gave that opinion that is hard to justify. There are too many pitfalls in terms of having that opinion. I don't really trust my own opinion about managers, so I'm unlikely to trust anybody else's.

And do I think Moyes is a good manager, or a good fit for West Ham? Hmm maybe..?

[gadgetsrevv]

Man City aren’t in crisis despite Norwich shock. PLUS: Bayern’s Bundesliga dominance is under threat

There’s lots to talk about in this week’s Monday Musings following a wild weekend. Gab Marcotti is here to recap the big stories around soccer.

Jump to: No crisis yet for Man City | End of Bayern’s dominance? | Fati masks Barca’s issues | Juventus get lucky | Neymar gets rude welcome | Arsenal woe continues | | Neville harsh on Man United? | Chelsea’s youth movement | Dortmund ready for Barca | Odegaard dazzling for Sociedad | Why Firmino’s so special | Conte, Inter keep winning | The sad story of #BlueGirl

Sky isn’t falling for Man City despite Norwich shock

One of the more odd decisions this past summer was Manchester City not replacing Vincent Kompany. “Replace” is perhaps too strong a word. You can’t “replace” him but you can bring in another live body to give you an alternative at centre-back and provide some competition for John Stones and Nicolas Otamendi.

– Ogden: Man City might regret inspiring Liverpool – Miller: Have Norwich shown the league how to beat City? – ESPN’s Ultimate XI: This team would win everything

Many of us pointed this out but hey, it’s Pep Guardiola, so you naturally offer the benefit of the doubt. He must know something we don’t. Maybe Fernandinho (at 34) can fill in too. Maybe Eric Garcia is ready. Maybe Kyle Walker can slide across. Maybe Aymeric Laporte is Iron Man and will never get injured. (Oops: we already know that’s not the case.)

Pep Guardiola’s side looked vulnerable in Saturday’s shock defeat at Norwich but there’s still a lot of time left for them to get their balance back.

It’s not that Otamendi and Stones are bad defenders, it’s that the way City play can leave them vulnerable, which is pretty much what happened against Norwich in their 3-2 defeat. There’s a price you pay for choosing to play a certain way and evidently, for City it’s one worth paying. The problem is this is a low-scoring sport. Scoring goals is difficult and ideally, you want to make conceding them as difficult as possible for the opposition. With those two back there and this setup, it’s that much easier for them.

Updated Luck Index: Man City continue to be unfortunate

No, the sky isn’t falling. Even in this game, Man City could have grabbed the three points with a bit more luck. Nor will they always face someone as motivated and as intense as Daniel Farke’s crew who, severely depleted by injuries, went all out with nothing to lose. But the reality is that the gap separating them from Liverpool is already at five points, and the last time that happened was back in January.

Is time running out on Bayern’s Bundesliga dynasty?

Is this the year someone in the Bundesliga topples Galactus (read: Bayern)?

Leipzig had their audition on Saturday, holding the champions to a 1-1 draw. The result keeps Julian Nagelsmann’s crew top of the league with Bayern fourth, two points back. But other than the usual drive and running you’d expect from Leipzig — and, after the break, the character that wasn’t always there last season — I’m not sure we quite saw enough to predict they’ll prevail over the marathon that is a whole season.

Thomas Muller, right, and Bayern were forced to settle for a point vs. RB Leipzig thanks to some familiar flaws that manager Niko Kovac has yet to fix.

In fact, a lot of it had to do with Bayern’s deficiencies. Having gone ahead early thanks to the age-old Thomas Mueller-Robert Lewandowski connection, they failed to capitalise on their lead despite having the upper hand for much of the first half. Joshua Kimmich in central midfield alongside Thiago Alcantara gave them a bit more control against the press, but they were sterile in the final third. Leipzig deserved their equalizer after a bad error from Lucas Hernandez (the sort that prompts you to say “He cost how much?”) and while late chances meant it could have gone either way, there wasn’t too much separating these two.

The difference? Well, you try to imagine how they can get better and you can see far bigger margins for growth at the Bayern end. Nagelsmann can conjure up some more tactical voodoo, Emil Forsberg might last 90 minutes, Kevin Kampl might be fit again and maybe they’ll get something out of Patrik Schick. But it’s slim pickings.

As for Bayern, Nico Kovac lost David Alaba to injury in the warm-up. But he still has Philippe Coutinho, who only came on with two minutes to go, and Ivan Perisic, who stayed rooted to the bench: presumably both were signed for a reason. The question, really, is how much faith you have in Kovac.

Fabulous Fati obscures Barca’s issues

Ansu Fati, already the third-youngest goal scorer in the history of La Liga, got his first start for Barcelona on Saturday against Valencia and set the Camp Nou alight inside 10 minutes. He scored with a confident, accurate finish, set up a goal for Frenkie de Jong and came close to scoring two more times. Oh yeah, in case you didn’t know, the kid doesn’t turn 17 until Halloween.

His emergence, and that of Carles Perez, means that Lionel Messi (who was in the stands) and Luis Suarez (who came on and scored twice) can come back into the team in their own time. But equally, despite the gaudy scoreline (5-2) and the excitement over Fati, there is still plenty for Ernesto Valverde to work on.

Valencia are a mess right now (thanks, Peter Lim!), having sacked Marcelino and replaced him with Albert Celades. And they still stayed in the game thanks to Kevin Gameiro, falling apart only after Jasper Cillessen‘s mistake for the third Barca goal. Suarez, looking sharp and hungry (no, not in that way), later added two to put the game out of reach.

Defensively, Barca looked far from solid, not just at the back but also in midfield; the fact that it was the first choice trio of De Jong, Arthur and Sergio Busquets doesn’t bode well.

Juventus get lucky vs. Fiorentina

There’s a ton of ancient bad blood between Fiorentina and Juventus. Throw in the enthusiasm that new owner Rocco Commisso has engendered within the Viola organization, the fact that it was Maurizio Sarri’s official post-pneumonia debut and especially the fact that the visitors lost Douglas Costa, Miralem Pjanic and Danilo through injury during the match (and the first two are especially key to the way they play) and perhaps Juve should be happy with a point.

Why? They were poor for much of the game against an opponent who treats the match as if it was the Champions League final and “Avengers: Endgame” rolled into one. Sarri later blamed the heat of a mid-afternoon kickoff, which is a bit hard to stomach since presumably Fiorentina felt just as hot. It might have been better to just take it on the chin, be grateful for the point and move on.

PSG fans will take time to welcome Neymar back

Neymar made his first appearance of the season for Paris Saint-Germain at the weekend and was greeted, predictably, with boos and insults. It’s what you expect when, after pledging your loyalty to the club, you go out of your way to force a move back to Barcelona. So what did he do? Easy, he scored a “worldie” deep in injury time to secure the three points against Strasbourg.

– Laurens: The definitive story of the Neymar saga

“I expected it, but in the end I forced them to applaud,” he said afterwards, adding that every game will now feel like an away match.

He made his bed, he can lie in it now and won’t get much sympathy. But at the very least, he deserves recognition for the professionalism he showed Saturday. Whether he’ll ever get love from the Ultras given what happened is unclear but that doesn’t mean they can’t reach some mutually beneficial relationship.

What’s obvious is that if you’re Thomas Tuchel, you’re glad he’s back.

Arsenal’s issues are self-inflicted

The statistics say Arsenal conceded 23 shots on goal in the second half against Watford on Sunday. That’s one every two minutes and it’s frankly hard to do. It’s especially tough when you go in at half-time with a two-goal lead, one which, based on what we saw in the first half, was likely more than generous. And yes, they ended up settling for a 2-2 draw.

You can focus on individuals — Matteo Guendouzi, Sokratis Papastathopoulos, David Luiz — all you like and there’s another statistic floating around that says that since the start of last season no team has made more errors leading directly to opposition goals than Arsenal. But this is a team issue.

If you have error-prone players, you design tactical systems that protect them and don’t expose them. That’s just basic. And that’s on Unai Emery.

Real nearly throw it away before PSG trip

It’s a sign of Real Madrid’s current state that even after playing well, creating plenty of chances and racing to a 3-0 lead at home to Levante, they still required a last-ditch save from Thibaut Courtois to retain their three points. In the cold light of day, you’d look at this performance, note Madrid’s domination, the fact that the goals conceded were against the run of play and chalk up the 3-2 scoreline to the randomness of football. And you might even celebrate Eden Hazard‘s debut and look forward to what is next.

Instead, it’s all fraught nerves ahead of the trip to the Parc des Princes to face Paris Saint-Germain in midweek. Context matters, possibly because we’re in mid-September and we have no real idea what Zinedine Zidane has in mind.

Neville a bit harsh on Man United?

Manchester United squeezed out a victory over Leicester City, but I was struck by Gary Neville’s comments suggesting Ole Gunnar Solskjaer should get at least three more transfer windows “to clean up the trash in the dressing room, because there is trash in there.”

I have a lot of time for Neville, but I was wondering to whom he’s referring given a summer of significant departures. Of the guys who are most frequently targeted as “trash” (or “weeds,” to use another of his terms), Eric Bailly, Phil Jones and Marcos Rojo haven’t played this year. Fred has been on the pitch for 24 minutes, Nemanja Matic has started one game. Who does he mean? Paul Pogba? Anthony Martial? Juan Mata?

I’m also not sure about the comparisons with Jurgen Klopp’s Liverpool and how it took him time to produce. He reached a Europa League final after taking over in October and finished fourth the following year. Plus, he had a rather more credible résumé than Solskjaer did. By all means, give him time, but set credible targets and deadlines too.

Why Chelsea’s youth movement feels different

Chelsea’s 5-2 away win to Wolves brings their seasonal goals total to 11 and all of them scored by Academy graduates. Fikayo Tomori, Andreas Christensen, Tammy Abraham and Mason Mount all started at Molyneux and all look poised to play a big part in Chelsea’s season. With more homegrown players — Ruben Loftus-Cheek and Callum Hudson-Odoi, possibly Reece James too — set to return from injury, there could be as many as seven of them in Frank Lampard‘s XI at some point.

What sets this group apart, though, is the fact that apart from Christensen, who joined at 16, the others have all been affiliated with the club since before they were 10 years old. We often play fast and loose with the homegrown label since so many clubs (including Chelsea, of course) cherry-pick top talent from elsewhere at 16, stick them in the Academy for a year or two and then count them as “club-trained.” Technically, that’s true but with these guys, it’s different.

Dortmund look ready for Barcelona

“Bouncebackability” isn’t a real word, but it applies here. Borussia Dortmund had a whole international break to stew over the humiliating 3-1 defeat to newly promoted Union Berlin and with Kai Havertz and Bayer Leverkusen rolling into town, the potential for aftereffects was still high. Instead, we got one of the most dominating Dortmund performances in recent memory. At the attacking end, Marco Reus got his mojo back, Jadon Sancho popped up with his usual two assists and Paco Alcacer scored in his eighth consecutive game, including internationals.

Roll on, Barcelona, this Tuesday.

Odegaard continues to dazzle

Martin Odegaard made his international debut for Norway at 15 years of age and moved to Real Madrid six months later. Too much, too soon? It felt that way to many, given he failed to establish himself at youth level and later spent two years on loan. But players develop at different speeds, and having rocketed to the international stage, he was due a breather.

This year, he’s on loan at Real Sociedad, where he’s already scored twice and, on Saturday night against Atletico Madrid, was arguably man of the match. He doesn’t even turn 21 until December, but it feels as if this could be the year it all comes together for him. Watch this space.

Meanwhile, for Atletico, the 2-0 defeat reinforces what we already know: losing four or five starters in a summer is tricky to metabolize and there will be days like this when Diego Simeone’s tinkering leads nowhere.

Why Roberto Firmino is so unique

My former colleague Matthew Syed, writing in The Times, made the point that Roberto Firmino appears to have 360-degree vision, a bit like those owls, whose heads seem to swivel all the way around. It’s not hard to see why, given his performance in Liverpool’s 3-1 win over Newcastle.

Some see him as a prototype of a modern center-forward, the “false nine” who is more creator than finisher. That certainly fits with Firmino’s strengths though another, equally formidable strength is the intensity and intelligence of his pressing game. But I’m not sure he’s a prototype of anything.

Most of Europe’s top teams — from Barcelona to Manchester City, from Tottenham to Real Madrid, from Bayern to Juventus — still have a genuine centerforward rather than a “false nine” (to use another hipsterish term). In other words, Firmino is not a trend as much as he has a nearly unique, extremely rare skill set, which comes as a result of his past as an attacking midfielder.

Conte keeping expectations down at Inter

Antonio Conte is playing that age-old game straight out of Sun Tzu’s “The Art of War” — “when you are weak, appear strong and when you are strong, appear weak.” Following Inter’s third win on the bounce (one-nil against Udinese) he said, “We know the game. They build us up now to knock us down later. For us to win the title, other clubs would have to have disastrous seasons.”

– Schoenfeld: Romelu Lukaku talks about his Inter mission

It’s pretty transparent what he’s doing. And yes, Inter aren’t title favorites but he has the strike force he says he wanted (Romelu Lukaku, Lautaro Martinez, Alexis Sanchez), he has two of the best young midfielders in the league (Stefano Sensi and Nicolo Barella) and arguably the best center-back corps. There’s no reason to hide. Own the responsibility.

What needs to happen beyond #BlueGirl

The harrowing tale of Sahar Khodayari, the 29-year-old Iranian woman who set herself on fire (and later died from severe burns) after being sentenced to six months in prison for disguising herself as a man to attend a football match between her team, Esteghlal, and the UAE’s Al-Ain last March, shocked the world.

Like many such stories, it’s more complicated than it appears. There is no written law barring women from entering Iranian stadiums, so she was sentenced for not fully adhering to Islamic hijab laws and covering her head. But equally, since the Islamic revolution 40 years ago, women have been unofficially banned from watching men’s games with very few exceptions, like last November’s Asian Champions League final.

It shouldn’t take the tragic death of a vulnerable person for the world to take notice. The hashtag #BlueGirl is great to raise awareness but it can’t end there, particularly since there has been so much outrage and support for change, even in Iran.

FIFA President Gianni Infantino has pushed Iran on this matter before and the stock answer has been that the “infrastructure” was not yet in place to allow women in on a regular basis. (What infrastructure? Women’s toilets? Surely they have port-a-potties in Iran…) That argument is nonsense as evidenced by the fact that women have been allowed in before. FIFA’s statutes are very clear when it comes to equality and access. They have the power to withhold development money and suspend the Iranian FA.

It’s time to take action and, given the support such action would have within Iran — from much of the population and virtually the entire football world — it feels like a no-brainer.

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[belovedyuuri]

Dance with Me (ao3) 6.5k

3 times Yuuri Katsuki stumbles when dancing with Viktor and 1 time he gets it right.

55. ‘I don’t mind.’ in the 100 ways to say ‘I love you’ series.

1

Yuuri is eight when he enters the wooden camp house for the first time, clutching to Minako-sensei’s hand. He shouldn’t really be here, he was supposed to join the skating camp Yuuko went to but the organisers decided at the very last minute that they couldn’t take boys with them. Minako-sensei was the last hope for him to spend two weeks of his summer vacation out of his house. This year, she was asked to provide ballet classes at the famous Mr. Feltsman’s Dance Camp; Yuuri was allowed to come only because of that, he was sure.

He doesn’t know Russian. He barely knows English, too, only the words and phrases Minako-sensei managed to teach him before arriving at the place. Nerves eat at his insides, making his stomach clench painfully. He shouldn’t be here, he doesn’t even know how to dance!

Minako-sensei talks to another instructor in a language that doesn’t make any sense to Yuuri, nodding at him at one point and wrapping her arm around his shoulder. He recognises his own name falling from her lips, immediately repeated by the man she is talking to.

She kneels down in front of him and puts her hands on his shoulders. “You will learn how to dance here,” she tells him, making sure he’s focusing on her words. “Just follow what the teacher and other children are doing and you’ll be fine.”

Yuuri breathes shakily. “Will you stay here?”

She shakes her head. “I have to teach another class. But I’ll come get you when it’s over and we’ll eat lunch together. Alright?”

Yuuri wants to say that it’s not alright, especially when his ears catch the sound of unfamiliar languages spoken all around him. Minako-sensei and him are the only Japanese people in the room and his stomach doesn’t like it.

The teacher next to them claps his hands to attract the students’ attention then, and Yuuri instinctively nods his head.

Minako-sensei smiles at him and gives his shoulders a gentle squeeze. “Good luck, Yuuri,” she tells him. With that, she’s gone to teach her own class.

Yuuri timidly looks around the room and quickly walks to the back of it, keeping close to the walls just so he’ll notice immediately if they start to close in on him.

-

Yuuri dislikes dancing. Or rather, he dislikes the dance class Minako-sensei leaves him at every day around 10 am. They dance in pairs there, children of all ages holding each other’s hands and moving together - some take a step forward while others move backward. The teacher speaks very often but Yuuri only has managed to differentiate between a few of the words he uses. “One, two, three” are numbers, the man says those and all the students move their feet in the rhythm of his voice.

Yuuri tries to do that, too, but he’s too focused on how his hands are clammy with sweat. Sometimes, the sound of his own blood echoing in his ears drowns out the teacher’s voice and he steps out, or worse, steps on his partner’s foot.

The boy he’s dancing with seems to make a show of wiping his hands against his trousers whenever Yuuri’s hands become too sweaty and he grabs Yuuri’s fingers back without asking.

(Not that Yuuri would understand if the boy did ask, but he doesn’t like not having a say in this.)

He doesn’t tell Minako-sensei that he feels bad during the classes, he doesn’t even mention that he’s noticed the classroom becoming smaller and smaller, the walls seemingly trying to reach him as forcefully as his partner does.

One day, though, another child joins the group, and the boy who has danced with Yuuri till now says something to the teacher and never comes back to him. Instead, he takes the new girl’s hands into his own and gets into a position they’ve been practicing for the last several days.

Yuuri’s lungs are working too fast. The air around him turns cold with the realisation of what’s going on. Breathing feels like shreds of ice force their way down his throat, body growing light and heavy at the same time and before he even notices, he’s sitting on the floor, his freezing cold fingers held in a pair of warm, bigger hands. Somebody is talking to him in words he can’t understand, can’t really hear over the loud, high noise in his ears, in his head, in his entire body.

Walls close in around him, only a circle of space, nearly nonexistent, left around him and the teacher - it must be the teacher. Yuuri feels something hot on his face, moving down his cheeks, stinging his eyes.

“Breathe,” he hears the language of his mom and dad, the word Mari usually murmurs to him back at home reaching him through the freezing smoke of nothing and too much at the same time. “Breathe, Yuuri. Focus on me. Breathe in. In, Yuuri.”

Minako-sensei, he thinks finally, the shadows clouding his vision slowly dissipating. Sure enough, Minako-sensei is right there when his eyes are able to see again, and now it’s her hands that are holding his hands, massaging warmth into his fingers. Yuuri notices he can move them again.

He tries to breathe along with her, shaking with how difficult it is to do it as slow as her. With every another attempt, it gets easier.

The walls around him aren’t walls - is what he notices when his breathing has calmed enough; they are the children in the class, crowding around him like he’s an exhibit in a museum, an animal in a zoo.

Maybe he is; he can’t understand their speech, after all.

“There you go,” Minako-sensei murmurs to him. He can’t help but cry. She takes him out of the wooden house, away from the staring children and the boy who doesn’t want to dance with him anymore.

-

“I don’t want to go there again,” Yuuri says next morning.

Minako-sensei sighs but continues to lead him towards the same wooden house in which his dance class takes place. “I can’t leave you alone in our room while I’m teaching, Yuuri,” she tells him. “Besides, I talked to your instructor. He promised to find somebody who could be your partner.”

Yuuri pouts at her because it’s the only thing left that he can do, but Minako-sensei isn’t looking at him. They reach the dance class and she leaves him inside sooner than he likes.

“Ah, Yuuri!” the teacher calls, making him freeze in his track. The man waves him over, the other hand resting on another boy’s shoulder.

Yuuri hasn’t seen the boy in the class before. That must be the child the teacher promised he would find.

“Viktor,” the man says, clapping the boy’s shoulder. Some other words follow, from which he only understands ‘dance’ but when the boy—Viktor—gives him a wide smile and offers him his hand, Yuuri thinks he doesn’t need to know all the words to understand.

-

Viktor never grabs Yuuri’s hand like his previous dance partner did. When he needs to get Yuuri’s attention, he simply says his name - he says his name - and he patiently leads Yuuri through all the steps, no matter how many times Yuuri steps on his feet or moves in a completely different direction than he’s supposed to.

“Sorry!” he calls in English every time because the Russian word never wants to stay in his memory. He says it again and again, and Viktor always smiles at him and shakes his head and says several phrases that sound English.

One of them is ‘It’s okay’. Yuuri knows this one. He’s so grateful for Minako-sensei teaching it to him.

The other phrase, Yuuri doesn’t understand and can’t even remember, but Viktor doesn’t seem bothered about it.

Yuuri’s hands stop sweating so much. Viktor doesn’t seem to notice they have ever been wetter than his own.

-

“Yuuri?” Viktor says, waving his hand in front of his face, still farther than most would. When Yuuri focuses on him, he tilts his head. “Okay?”

Yuuri nods and smiles a little. “Okay.”

-

“So?” Minako-sensei asks him when there are only two days of the camp left. “How do you like your dance classes now?”

Yuuri babbles excitedly about the boy that dances with him and always waits for him to take his hands first, and speaks his name like it’s supposed to be spoken (Viktor said it incorrectly one time but Yuuri corrected him and he’s been pronouncing it well ever since), who shares his water bottle when Yuuri’s done with his tiny one, who never gets angry with him and always gives him a smile and calls his name and claps his hands together whenever Yuuri dances correctly.

“He says okay,” Yuuri tells her when they’re in their beds with the lights off. “He says… he says something else, too. When I say sorry. I don’t know what.”

“What does he say?” Minako-sensei asks.

Yuuri wills his tongue to move, stuttering over sounds that it’s unfamiliar with. What comes out of his mind must not make much sense because Minako-sensei is quiet for a long time. But then…

“He says that he doesn’t mind,” she tells him.

For some reason, those words seem like the best words that Viktor could have ever said to him.

“Thank you, Minako-sensei.”

-

Viktor doesn’t know much English, nor does he know Japanese at all, but with Minako-sensei’s help, Yuuri learns that the other boy is 10 and lives in Moscow and would like it if Yuuri came back to the camp next year. She translates that Viktor will be looking forward to the summer if Yuuri promises to come back.

He knows it’s bad to make promises if he doesn’t know he can keep them, but he really wants to dance with Viktor again. He has never had so much fun away from his friends, on or off the ice.

2

 Postcards from Viktor fill his entire drawer, but Yuuri still adds more and more, sometimes putting in it full paged letters as well. Phone calls between Japan and Russia are way too expensive for how much (or little) his family earns and Mari doesn’t always let Yuuri use her computer so he and Viktor write letters to each other.

In his newest letter, with a postcard from Barcelona this time, Viktor writes about his latest dance competition. He and his partner, Mila, are champions in every city they go to. Viktor says that his teachers don’t like him missing classes because of so many travels but he can’t help it.

Besides, Viktor writes, I’m graduating in June and all my grades are good. They can’t be too angry with me if I’m not failing their classes.

Yuuri can only agree with him.

Viktor is finishing high school this year - he’s 20 years old this year, Yuuri knows he had to take a two-year break from schooling when his mothers noticed something alarming in his behaviour - something that Viktor confided to Yuuri in his letters.

Sometimes I feel like I’m not really here, Viktor confessed once. I lie in my bed for hours without a thought in my head and I still feel overwhelmed. Does that happen to you, too?

No, Yuuri answered to that letter. No, it has never happened to him and he was sorry that Viktor felt that way. Maybe he should talk to his parents about it. Makkachin and Yuuri can’t be the only two beings that Viktor tells about this.

Viktor’s mothers put their entire world on hold for their son and during that summer they went on a trip around the world, even going as far as to make a two-day stop in Hasetsu, the most wonderful surprise Yuuri has ever received.

Yuuri, Viktor writes in the latest letter. The word in Viktor’s handwriting never fails to make Yuuri smile. I’ve been thinking… Do you have graduation proms in Japan? We have them in Russia. My school is organising one and of course I need to go. I’ve been wondering if you would like to accompany me?

Yuuri’s eyes stop at the last two words. The whole world seems to pause around him. Has he read them right? Is Viktor really asking him—him?

Would you like to accompany me?

Accompany me?

He? Yuuri?

Yuuri blinks and pushes air out of his lungs, immediately breathing in. He hasn’t even noticed that he’s been holding his breath. He makes his eyes move further over the letter.

I would really like to go with a friend and you’re a very good friend to me, Yuuri. Mамочка says that we can cover the cost of the tickets to and from Russia (as my graduation gift) and you could stay for some time at our house. I could show you my favourite places! And you would meet Makkachin! Wouldn’t that be great?

Please, think about it and let me know about your decision as soon as possible. (It would make me very happy if you said yes!)

‘It would make him very happy.’

It would make Yuuri happy, too. He’s always wanted to meet Viktor’s dog - the boy has always talked about her on and on, simply unable to stop. He even has one four-page letter from Viktor fully dedicated to Makkachin. He loves rereading it from time to time.

He wants to go to the prom with Viktor. They don’t have such things in Japan, after all.

But still… It’s all the way in Russia. Yuuri has never traveled alone so far. He doesn’t react well to even taking the metro when he knows that nobody will be going with him. To go to Russia, alone, only to meet Viktor and go to a dance with him?

…ah, hell. It’ll be worth it. Of course it will.

He’ll have to ask Minako-sensei to help him with his dancing.

-

Yuuri clenches his fingers on his too long sleeve. He's never been to a graduation prom before—or any prom at all, for that matter. His hands sweat like there's no tomorrow, he's sure there are wet spots on the blue fabric of his jacket.

Viktor’s moms made sure their outfits matched so nobody had any doubts that Yuuri actually had a partner and wasn't just a stray foreigner sneaking into a prom in a school that wasn't even his.

The moment they enter the club, they're embraced by a mix of perfume and cologne that aren't the ones Viktor sprayed them both with. The smell is heady; in the lights flickering around the place it creates the illusion of a heavy cloud trying to reach and stupefy all the prom participants. Nobody looks fazed by it, though, maybe because the fog on the dance floor is created by a smoke machine.

The room is loud and the music isn't even playing yet; instead, countless conversations in a language Yuuri still doesn't know serve as a tune. For a long moment, he's an eight-year-old again, eyes flying from one faceless person to another, the laughter that he doesn’t grasp the source of wraps its fingers around his throat and squeezes and the room gets colder and colder—

“Yuuri?”

Viktor’s hand is hot when his fingers gingerly wrap around his own. Yuuri lets go of his jacket and clutches to the familiar warmth, first with one hand, then with the other as well.

Viktor’s eyes are worried when he finds them looking back at him. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?” he asks and Yuuri automatically nods.

They’ve planned Yuuri coming to Russia for Viktor’s graduation prom for months. Yes, there have been times when his anxiety has got the upper grip on the situation, making him question everything.

Why him? Viktor has a dance partner that he goes to every competition imagined with and with whom he wins all kinds of trophies. Yuuri has seen the recordings; Mila is a talented, graceful dancer.

Is it because Yuuri told Viktor there are no graduation proms in Japan? Or maybe it’s because of that one time he mentioned that he couldn’t wait to see Viktor again…

…In one of his letters, Viktor wrote that he couldn’t wait to dance with Yuuri one more time. He must have been teasing, Yuuri’s mind supplies the well-groomed thought, he knows very well what an awful partner he is. To this day Yuuri’s winces in sympathy for Viktor’s feet whenever he remembers them dancing together.

He bets even Minako-sensei believes he’s a lost cause, and she’s a miraculous teacher.

“We don’t have to stay here long,” Viktor tells him as he leads him to one of the long tables, tens of other students dressed to the nines already sitting at it.

Yuuri tightens his grip over Viktor’s fingers and manages to breathe when he feels a squeeze in return.

-

The music slows down significantly when they reach the dance floor. Everybody around them starts cheering, to the band, the DJ, or whomever, Yuuri could even go as far as to say they were clapping at Viktor for bringing Yuuri (the foreigner, definitely not a professional dancer) into the spotlight,  out there for everybody to laugh at him.

Viktor moves in front of him, grinning, and Yuuri pales.

“I can't dance,” he tries, but when Viktor offers him his hand in an invitation, he accepts. “I don't remember how—”

“Just follow me.” Viktor’s voice is softer than he's ever heard it be.

Maybe it’s the slow, delicate melody or maybe somebody spiked the orange juice he’s had but—Yuuri’s instantly awestruck, rendered speechless right there where he is…

Because oh.

In the midst of beautiful gowns and sharp suits, foreign chatter, clouds of perfume, and the lights changing colours every couple of seconds, there is Viktor, pulling him ever so gently into a dance so gentle it could break hearts, and Yuuri can't help but think that everything suddenly makes sense.

His heart beating as though it wants to escape, the strange, yet not bad, feeling in his belly, his body relaxed and tense at the same time.

He and Viktor. They've been working up to this point for a long time, how hasn't he noticed?

This—this realisation, this everything—makes him feel dizzy and Viktor isn't even spinning him yet, they're only swaying together; so close, never have they been so close, Yuuri’s sure he would have remembered.

The music plays and plays, he isn't listening to it at all. His heart is beating too loud, the only sound his ears are able to focus on is whenever Viktor huffs a chuckle or whispers to him.

It dawns on him suddenly that they are slow dancing on a prom night. He's heard about how romantic these things are before, about the implications.

Is Viktor aware of it? Has he planned it?

Is he going to kiss him tonight?

...is Viktor even on the same page?

And what page is Yuuri on?

Viktor is looking at him with the same soft expression when Yuuri focuses back on him.

His eyes… Could it be—?

Viktor hisses quietly, just a glimpse of a second after Yuuri falls forward in a step Viktor definitely didn't lead him to.

“I'm sorry!” he calls, first in Japanese, instinctively, then in English, heat spilling down his cheeks, even reaching his ears. “I'm so sorry, Viktor—”

“Yuuri.” That one word, pronounced so tenderly, so dearly, is enough to steal all apologies from Yuuri’s tongue. “It's okay. I don't mind.”

There's that look again.

Viktor’s arms stay as gentle as before when he repeats, “I don't mind at all,” and Yuuri stumbles again, and that's when Viktor laughs.

For the first time in his life, Yuuri knows nobody is mocking him.

He starts laughing, too.

-

They leave the club past 4 am, their stomachs full with food, their feet aching, bodies buzzing with soda and the glass of champagne they were allowed to drink. (Some graduates managed to get a hold of more alcohol; it loosened their tongues. When Yuuri found himself talked to in broken English, he couldn’t help but think that maybe Viktor’s classmates didn’t hate him, after all.)

The day is already waking up, the sky getting lighter and lighter with every minute. Yuuri stops in his track and looks around in confusion.

“It’s day,” he says.

Viktor chuckles by his side. “It is.”

“We’ve been there the whole night?”

It’s not that he can’t believe it - time always flies fast when he spends it with Viktor, be it online or physically together, talking or dancing. He feels tiredness seeping through his bones, too, so he knows it’s not strange that so many hours have passed.

But still. He’s danced the whole night, in a foreign country, has talked to people using a language that none of them are completely fluent in and yet… he’s had… fun?

Viktor smiles at him and takes his hand, and Yuuri is suddenly reminded that they’ve been doing that the whole night as well. Viktor’s warmth has been a constant today. Maybe that’s why Yuuri hasn’t felt the sense of ‘strange’ in his body?

“There’s this tradition that we have,” Viktor tells him as they start to walk - where, Yuuri doesn’t know.

“Tradition?”

“Mhm.” They cross the street, empty of vehicles save for those parked on the curb. “After the prom, we go out and welcome the sunrise.”

Yuuri tilts his head. “Why?”

That question seems to floor Viktor. His usual confidence stutters on his face as he tightens his fingers on Yuuri’s hand. “Well… I don’t really…”

Yuuri runs his thumb over Viktor’s hand. “It sounds like a very lovely way to finish the night.”

When he looks at Viktor, the man looks relieved, a smile back to his face, and the same look that was present on his face nearly the entire night reaches his eyes again.

“Would you like to watch the sunrise with me, Yuuri?” Viktor asks.

Somehow, the question sounds like the most important thing in the world. The daylight, still not graced by the sun but readying for it, reflects in Viktor’s hair like pure silver, making it shine as though it was made of stardust. Viktor’s looking at him, watching him, and Yuuri can’t even think, his mind can’t consciously form any words. He answers with the one word that feels right.

“Yes.” He feels a smile on his own face. His own voice has a note of that Viktor-softness when he adds, “I’d love to.”

The hill they climb on is surprisingly deserted, no other students visible but for the couple they have noticed at the very bottom of the slope. Viktor takes his jacket off and lays it on the grass, damp from the dew yet still warmed by the heat of the previous day. Yuuri’s about to do the same, but Viktor simply sits down and offers him his hand, pulls him onto the jacket, next to him, close, so close, they nearly don’t fit on it. Viktor wraps his arm around him and pulls him even closer, then, and oh.

Now everything is perfect.

They’re quiet for a long time—if Yuuri’s heart can be described as quiet at the moment. He has no idea what’s going on, what’s happening, they’ve been so close to each other numerous of times, they’ve danced together (or tried to, anyway) the three summers he was allowed to attend the dance camp, and Viktor always hugs him for ‘hello’ and ‘goodbye’. Yuuri has known for a while now what it feels like to be embraced by Viktor, or what his hands feel like when they hold his own, or when he leads him in a dance or on a walk or when their fingers meet while petting Makkachin.

He’s known it all, he still knows it, but right now—

Something has changed this night. Something has awakened in him.

Maybe it was the lights in the club, or the fog curling around their feet as they danced. Maybe it was the fact that at the very beginning of the prom Yuuri was so overwhelmed that the only thing he could feel was Viktor’s heart beating steadily underneath his hand as they danced to one of the slow songs.

Or maybe it was the confetti one of the graduates threw at them, which stuck to Viktor’s hair and wouldn’t let go until Yuuri picked it out, laughing, laughing the entire night, laughing with Viktor.

Viktor doesn’t seem to act differently around him, not at all - he behaves just like he always does, paying attention to Yuuri when nobody else does, making sure he’s warm and comfortable and isn’t pressured to anything he doesn’t feel good with.

They’re sitting there, facing east, the horizon slowly growing brighter and brighter, as though getting ready to introduce the main performer.

“I’ve never thought I’d get to do it,” Viktor whispers to him, as quietly as the wind that rustles through the leaves of the nearby tree.

Yuuri looks up at him, his nose nearly touching Viktor’s chin. They’re so close, but he doesn’t pull away. He’s comfortable here.

“Do what?”

Viktor’s eyes are fixed on the point on the sky where the sun starts to rise. Yuuri can see the gold of it in his blue eyes, doesn’t look away, tries to look deeper.

“I’ve never thought that I’d get to see the sunrise,” Viktor says softly, his voice trembling a little—Yuuri wraps his arm around him and rubs his back in case he’s cold—and Viktor smiles and continues, “With somebody I care so deeply about.”

Yuuri’s hand freezes, and only because he’s watching Viktor’s face, he knows that the blue eyes freeze, too.

Viktor licks his lips, a nervous habit. “Yuuri…”

But Yuuri’s not listening, he can’t hear anything over the blood rushing in his ears, can’t feel anything but the heat on his cheeks, can’t think about anything else than curling his fingers in Viktor’s dress shirt and pulling him close—

“Yuuri, if it’s too much, I’ll—”

“Kiss me?” Yuuri breathes, shaking his head and moving onto his knees, anything just to do the one thing that’s the only thought in his head right now, anything to get Viktor to do what he wants—what they both want, and he wants to assure him that that’s the case, he’s really okay with that, he wouldn’t mind if—

Viktor’s hands cradle his head, like he’s something precious and cherished. Yuuri feels tears start to pool in the corners of his eyes, and then—oh, and then…

He forgets all about the sun, or the couple at the bottom of the hill, or the start of the new day when the energy of cosmic proportions explodes with warmth in his chest, wreaking sweet havoc within him, never to be the same again.

3

 “Dance with me, Yuuri,” Viktor says after they've spent the entire day unpacking. There are still a couple of boxes standing in the tiny hall and the living room but they sure as hell aren't going to pay them much mind tonight.

“'S two in the morning,” Yuuri complains yet still takes Viktor’s hands and lets himself be pulled to his feet. “Even Makka’s asleep already. We'll wake him up.”

“We'll be quiet. Promise.“

They're both wearing socks since their carpet will only arrive in two days and their slippers are smooshed in one of the remaining boxes. They should have had labeled them more properly.

Viktor pulls him into position, one arm wrapped around Yuuri’s back and the other holding his hand resting lax right over his heart. The only thing Yuuri loves more is when they're swaying from side to side, snuggled against each other.

“We’re in our socks,” Yuuri points out, needlessly.

“I’m a good dancer.”

“Not what I’m worried about.”

Viktor starts to hum a quiet melody, completely ignoring any non-complaints that Yuuri is ready to feed to him.

It only makes Yuuri breathe a smile and shake his head. He follows Viktor’s steps, used to it, ready for it. Dancing with Viktor feels like second nature to him after all those years spent doing little else, especially after their engagement.

Viktor’s never tired of having him so close, it seems; he always wraps his arms around Yuuri and sways with him, even in place, even in public, even when having conversations with their friends. In the mornings, middays, evenings, late into the night… Even after tiring dance practices and competitions in which he and Mila still medal every time.

Viktor Nikiforov, the man with golden feet, is what the Internet has to say about his fiancé. (Yuuri takes every opportunity to tease him about it. Viktor teases back that at least he has a Wikipedia page.)

Yuuri knows the song Viktor is humming. It’s the same one he always sings when they’re dancing together in the privacy of just us; the one that Viktor listens to when everything goes wrong and he needs strength and love and people’s faith in him. It’s a melody that means home and safety to him. Yuuri’s heart still clenches with love when he remembers that Viktor associates it with him.

The whole world seems to be asleep, leaving only the two of them, lost in each other’s eyes, moving as quietly and gently as can be. A smile sparkles in Viktor’s eye; Yuuri knows what it means.

He fully expects the spin when Viktor minutely steps away and raises his arm, twirling him under it. His other arm is there, ready to curl around his back again when—

Yuuri’s socked feet slip on the floor and he yelps, falling backwards, clutching to Viktor’s shirt and clenching his eyes with the anticipation of the impact—

Except it never comes.

Viktor’s eyes are wide with shock when Yuuri looks up at him, arms wrapped around him and holding him in a poor excuse of the dip.

They’re both frozen, their breaths hitched in their throats as they stare at each other—and only when what has just happened dawns on them, they breathe out, as one, chests heaving.

Yuuri opens his mouth, words already on his tongue—

“I don’t mind,” Viktor says, smiling with that fondness that turned Yuuri’s entire world around 5 years ago.

Yuuri closes his eyes, unable to help it when his lips turn into a smile of his own. “You always say that.”

“Because it’s true.”

Before he knows what’s happening, Viktor sneaks one of his arms underneath Yuuri’s legs, hoisting him up, not faltering even when Yuuri lets out a squeal of surprise and throws his arms around Viktor’s neck.

“What are you doing?!”

Makkachin whines in her bed, instantly making Yuuri wince and lower his voice.

“Vitya, put me down.”

Viktor presses a gentle kiss to Yuuri’s temple, not listening at all, not even pretending to. With Yuuri in his arms, he walks into their bedroom, the wardrobe in the corner still wide open, their clothes not exactly put neatly inside, and lays him on the bed.

“We’re going to sleep,” he declares, pulling at Yuuri’s trousers to get them off, making them both laugh when the fabric catches on his feet.

“I can undress myself,” Yuuri argues half-heartedly, not offering any help. He lies there, grinning when his fiancé finally gets the piece of clothing off and, with both hands at the same time, pulls Yuuri’s socks off, dropping them somewhere on the floor.

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” Viktor says, taking his own shirt off. “You couldn’t even stand on your own feet a minute ago.”

Yuuri fakes an offended gasp and kicks at the man, making his step back with a laugh before his foot actually reaches him.

They get undressed in a matter of seconds, getting under the covers just in their underwear. Pajamas must have been packed in the same box as the slippers. (Seriously, they should have labeled the boxes. Right now neither their pillows nor the duvet are wrapped in linens because they still haven’t found them.)

Yuuri sighs as he snuggles against Viktor’s side, head fitting perfectly where it’s settled in the crook of Viktor’s neck.

“I can’t believe I agreed to marry you,” he teases, smiling playfully, his voice full of fond exasperation.

He feels more than hears Viktor’s quiet laughter, trembling against his body. The arm around him tightens, briefly pulling him just a tiny bit closer. There’s a gentle pressure on the top of his head; Yuuri lets himself feel it, closing his eyes with a sleepy smile. He can totally get used to having this every day for the rest of his life.

He’s on the edge of sleep, eyelids heavy with dream sand when Viktor whispers, “I can’t believe you did, either.”

Yuuri falls asleep overwhelmed with how blessed he is.

+1

 This is it. This is the moment Yuuri has been waiting for (excitedly, dreadfully, impatiently—sometimes all at the same time). He’s ready.

Or as ready as he can be, he thinks as he looks at Viktor, dressed in the beautiful white-and-gold suit. The fabric shone outside in the afternoon sun, matching the wedding rings on their fingers.

Married. They’re married now. Yuuri can’t stop himself from grinning, heart bursting with happiness at the reflection of his own feelings in Viktor’s eyes.

They’ve made it; all the years together interlaced with weeks spent apart whenever Viktor would go away for a competition or days when being constantly around another person was just too much - all of it taught them how to open their souls to one another, how to be a team.

The reception entertainer calls them to the dance floor to start the event with their first dance as a married couple. Yuuri takes a deep breath and tightens his hand on Viktor’s, moving through the crowd together, hand in hand as the guests cheer on them.

Everybody is watching them, everybody will see when—no, if Yuuri stumbles. He’s practiced for this occasion tirelessly, hours upon hours, both with Viktor and in secrecy from him. He’s not going to mess it up this time.

Viktor takes both his hands into his own and presses a kiss to them, first to the right, then to the left.

They’re already standing in the position, Viktor looking lovingly into his eyes, when the music starts playing. Yuuri holds his breath in anticipation and watches the man in front of him, waiting for his reaction.

Because it’s not Love Me Tender, not what Viktor chose off-handedly with the remark of “It’s not important what music we’ll dance to; what matters is that we’ll dance together” when there was too little time left to decide.

Я люблю тебя до слез, is the title of the song. I love you to tears.

Viktor’s eyes are watering by the time Yuuri starts to lead. Of course he knows the song; it’s the one he always sings when they dance together.

(Viktor’s mothers have been such a huge help, digging up the CDs Viktor loved as a teenager.)

There’s the look again, the look that has always been there; Yuuri can’t remember a moment in his life when Viktor hasn’t looked at him this way, like Yuuri is love and happiness personified and Viktor has found him and now calls him his own, his luck, his everything.

(There are still days when it’s difficult to think so highly of himself and he knows that it’s the same for Viktor; they learn from each other, though, they learn to see themselves through each other’s eyes and—oh…—when he finally manages to see it, Yuuri likes the version of himself Viktor sees every day.)

It’s unfair. How is he supposed to stay focused on the steps when his husband is tearing up again for the first time since they exchanged their vows? How is he supposed to continue on leading when he has his eyes on the most beautiful man in the room, in the world, in the whole wide universe, and whose blue eyes are staring right back at him?

“Yuuri,” Viktor says, and the name sounds choked out when it reaches him, the music coming to a brief stop right before the chorus, giving them a second to fill their chests with air. Viktor’s lips part again, words ready to spill from his tongue—

But the music picks up again, and when it does, a cloud of white rose petals starts falling softly from above, landing on their heads and shoulders, and all around them as they move in their first dance as the Katsuki-Nikiforovs.

Yuuri has orchestrated all of this, everything just to surprise the love of his life, to make that dance memorable, to make sure they remember the song as theirs till their old days; forever and longer. He’s known all of this would happen, but he hasn’t been ready for the pure adoration in the eyes of his husband, rendered as speechless as Yuuri himself feels, or even more.

Yuuri leads and Viktor follows, their eyes blurring so bad the petals look like a snow storm. Step to the left, slowly to the right, again to the left and then—

Yuuri hisses uncontrollably. There’s heaviness on his right foot, followed by a brief twinge to his toes.

“Yuuri!” Viktor gasps. He forces them to stop, even as the band continues to play. Eyes wide, he takes Yuuri’s shoulders in his hands and rubs at them, as if trying to make up for his mistake. “Are you okay? I’m so sorry, love, I’m—”

“Hey,” Yuuri says only, all signs of pain long gone from his face. He’s smiling—grinning at Viktor, eyes sparkling in the lights of the room. He reaches his hands to cup Viktor’s face in them, thumbs caressing tears off his cheeks, and murmurs, voice as tender as possible, “I don’t mind.”

For a second or two, all he sees is the awestruck expression on Viktor’s face, the pure reflection of how Yuuri feels every time he looks at him and realises that’s him, I’m going to spend the rest of my life with him. And then Viktor leans in, so quick Yuuri doesn’t even have time to close his eyes right away.

The guests cheer loudly, screaming something about something being bitter, much too bitter, but Yuuri doesn’t care. He’s being kissed by his husband, the one that he loves more than anything.

Viktor steps on his foot again (Yuuri is half convinced it’s on purpose this time) and they laugh, and switch their positions, Yuuri allowing himself to be led this time.

In this very moment, he knows one thing and one thing only; if life with Viktor means aching feet, he doesn’t mind. He doesn’t mind at all.

[neverisalongtime-ja-blog]

Chapter 14: Italy

First of all: sorry for uploading the chapter later than I normally use to do it. You all can’t even imagine how hard my day has been!!

But here it is! I hope you all enjoy it and don’t forget the feed back!

Remember to follow Anastasia on Instagram if you wanna knoe more about her and her fictional life!

Anastasia_Truman

Much love to you all! ❤️️

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Read chapter 13

The next morning Anastasia was woken up by Josh kissing her. She felt his lips on her forehead, then on her cheeks, on her neck, on her shoulders and on her chest. She arranged her body so he could cover more space.

-          What are you doing? – She asked trying to open her eyes.

-          You looked so lovely and so sexy with my t shirt I couldn’t resist – Josh said without stopping the kisses.

-          What time is it? – Anastasia asked.

-          Almost eleven.

-          It’s so late! I told Mandy I was going to lunch with her – She jumped out of the bed.

-          But honey!

-          Oh my God, did you just call me honey? – Anastasia started to laugh – That is the sweetest thing ever!

-          Does that make you come back to bed?

-          No, I really need to leave. We fly tonight back to Europe and I haven’t packed anything yet. You should do the same – Anastasia said while getting dressed – I love you – she leaned to Josh to kiss him – See you at LAX tonight.

After a pit stop at her house to get a shower and a quick change of clothes, she met her friend at a nice sushi place.

-          I haven’t seen you in like two days – Mandy said seating back after hugging her friend – Don’t do this to me again.

-          I have good news – Anastasia said – Josh called me “Honey” today.

-          Wow, another step forward in this delightful relationship – Mandy laughed.

-          Yeah but last night was like a hundred steps back – Anastasia proceeded to tell Mandy everything that happened at the concert the night before.

-          But he did defend you, huh? – Mandy asked.

-          Yeah, but it still worries me. What if he is thinking right now “You know what? My friends are right and that girl is a child and dumb”? We even had issues about the “fame” thing before.

-          You are a grown ass woman.

-          He is 10 years older than me, Mandy.

-          So what? Valentine was almost eight years older.

-          And you all called him “Grandpa”.

-          That was funny – Mandy said laughing loud - The important thing is that he slept next to you at the end of the night. You two should take advantage of this leg of the tour; we are going to places like Spain, Italy and France. I know we’re all gonna be working but go out and do some romantic stuff.

Another flight had to be taken and Anastasia could not stand the anxiety. For her luck, this time Josh was in the seat next to hers, holding her hand and trying to find any conversation topic so she could forget where she was. She appreciated the intention but she just couldn’t block the fear from her mind, she really hated planes.

-          I really like your t shirt today – Josh said to Anastasia. She was wearing a white t shirt with the phrase “Born a bad seed” on it. She looked at her t shirt and then to Josh and smiled.

-          I was a bad seed for real – she said laughing a little.

-          I don’t believe that – Josh said.

-          You only know the composite Anastasia, the one that tries to behave. Years ago, I wasn’t like this. I was wild.

-          How wild?

-          I went out every night, drank a lot and attended class drunk in high school or with a hangover, terrible. I never did drugs but I used to drink a lot! Like almost every day.

-          Was there a reason for that?

-          Looking back it was for stupidity. I was young and thought I had the world in my hands until one day I realize I didn’t want to have it anymore.

-          When did everything change?  

-          I graduated from High School and I realized that my life was going nowhere and I didn’t want to be like other kids I knew that lived on their parent’s money all their lives. I wanted to do something for myself to myself and I got very bored of that “Hollywood Life”.

-          But you work since very young, according to Anthony.

-          Yes, I did backup vocals and played instruments in other people’s records, I did some modeling jobs as well but nothing fed my soul and I spent all the money in alcohol, parties and unnecessary travels. I paid college with part of my heritance and all the money I made from then on I’ve been controlling it. I don’t deny that I still like buying expensive shit but I’ve been able to maintain myself without touching my dad’s money.

-          Proud to hear that.

-          What about you?

-          Well I didn’t finish High School, that kind of education wasn’t for me, I don’t need to say that I didn’t go to College neither – Josh looked to the floor, embarrassed.

-          That’s ok. I know a lot of people that are amazingly successful without passing through a class room. I went to college because it was something I wanted to do and I studied music so it wasn’t a big deal.

-          Back to your wild days – Josh started to say looking to Anastasia’s face – Were you wild with boys too?

-          Do you really want to know that?

-          I guess I can handle it. We are getting to know each other.

-          We did everything backwards: had sex, became a couple and we’re now getting to know each other, that’s not the right order – Josh smiled and shrugged – I wasn’t that wild because I was fortunate enough to grow up in a house were sex wasn’t a taboo subject, Barbara and even my father always talked to me straight and gave me real good sexual education so I didn’t had to get around trying to find it on my own and making mistakes.

-          It’s amazing to know that. Can I ask you at what age did you lose your virginity?

-          You already asked – Anastasia laughed, she was actually starting to forget she was on a plane – I was 16.

-          Ok – Josh was silent for a few seconds – I was 19.

-          Well those were other times, like older times.

-          Are you trying to suggest that I am old? – Both laughed – Did you love him? Your first guy?

-          No.

-          You didn’t hesitate. Why you did it? Don’t you think that moment should be special?

-          No. I wanted to do it and I did it. For me sex and making love are two different things. Sex is natural, it’s biological, your body asks for it and when you do it with a person you really love it turns into love making. I hadn’t made love with anybody until you – Josh was visibly shocked.

-          So, in a way, I’m your first – He finally said. Anastasia laughed.

-          If you want to see it that way, yes, you are.

Spain was delightful for everyone. Anastasia had forgotten how much she loved Spain. Even though nobody had any time to properly visit Madrid and Barcelona she managed to sneak with Josh to some museums. They visited Prado Museum which was a mandatory date for Anastasia every time she was in Madrid to look at her favorite painting: The Garden of Earthly Delights by Hieronymus Bosch. Josh was thrilled by the fact she liked art as much as him. The best thing about their stay in Spain? Josh’s birthday. Anastasia didn’t forgot it and she had a custom dark blue ombre D'Angelico guitar for him.

-          When did you order this? – Josh said to Anastasia looking at the guitar like a kid looks at a candy bar.

-          About two months ago. They just changed the neck, I made them put a thin neck; how you like it – She said smiling at the panorama – Do you like it?

-          Are you serious? I love it! – Josh played a little – And its dark blue, like your hair, I’ll always remember you when I play this guitar.

-          Is that a good thing?

-          Is a great thing – Josh left the guitar aside and locked lips with his girlfriend, pressing their foreheads and smiling together after kissing.

In Barcelona all they did was eat. In Zurich all they did was drink beer. In Italy they could finally have some time alone, but it was very short. They got to walk in Bologna but things got a little bit weird when the fans found Josh and started to get around the hotel. There weren’t a lot of luxury hotels in that city so everyone stayed at the same place. Some local wine company invited both bands to a wine tasting at the village vineyards. It was a good opportunity for Mandy and Anastasia to finally wear decent fancy clothes and, lucky for them, Dolce & Gabbana gave them a lot of clothes to wear on stage and on the Italian tour. Anastasia opted for a pair of bright blue stilettos and a mini red dress with flowers.

-          It feels so good wear high heels after all this time – Mandy told Anastasia at the vineyard. Her friend agreed with a big smile.

The vineyard visit was more fun than everyone thought it would be, and in no time everyone was tipsy, especially Josh. While everyone was seated around a big wooden table, Josh took his place very close to Anastasia. They were on a corner and not easily visible for the rest of the people. Anastasia was having a conversation with Anthony when she felt Josh hand on her back and the other hand on her inner thigh. She took advantage of a moment Anthony turned his head to ask Josh “What the hell are you doing?” He just smiled and kissed her shoulder while his hand was covering more space on her thigh under the big wooden table. That turned her on really fast and she started to smile nervously. His fingers reached her underwear and she looked at Josh and told him to stop. He just smiled and ignored her, his fingers reaching inside her underwear. She couldn’t handle it anymore, looked at Josh with a stoic face and again told him to stop. He realized she was serious about it and left it at that. Drunk Josh was wild in sex, as Anastasia found out that night.

The next day, Anastasia, Anthony and a couple of his friends were outside their hotel grabbing lunch in a near pasta place. They were having a conversation about how many of the Italian restaurants in LA were fake when she felt some cold liquid on her chest and a hit of something hard before hearing two girls scream from a motorcycle “Leave Josh alone, slut”. The girls, of course, didn’t stop the motorcycle and Anastasia didn’t want to know what those girls threw at her. Anthony grabbed her and took her to her room while showing his anger with words. That night at the concert the vibe was weird and the crowd didn’t get along with Dead Curse. In that crowd there was another group of girls with signs that had written phrases showing their discomfort with her relationship with Josh. Both of them had tried to keep it the most low profile possible but Internet finds it all in the end. Some Josh fans weren’t happy with her and that was clear.

-          I can’t believe that – Josh was mad that night in his hotel room.

-          Calm down. I’ve been in this position before.

-          But they had no right to throw things at you in the street.

-          When I dated Jacob he was in the middle of a famous movie saga in England and you have no idea how many death threats I received. Even to this day. I don’t really care and you shouldn’t give so much attention to it. Let’s keep all this thing low, all right?

-          Ok. Can I kiss you right now? – Josh said placing his face really close to Anastasia.

-          Unless your fans are watching through the windows you can do whatever you want with me right now – She whispered to him.

Turin wasn’t different and Josh was getting anxious to see all those fans around their hotel every day. Anastasia tried to calm him down but it was useless, he only felt better at the venue. The concert in that city was strange also, the crowd was blank. The band didn’t complain, at the end they were only the opening act, people were there to see the Chili Peppers and that was clear for everyone. They ended the show very tired and after the Peppers did their magic on stage they came back to the hotel together.

Anastasia and Mandy walked to their room but once there they warned that their room door was half open.

-          Did you leave the door open? – Anastasia asked Mandy.

-          No, maybe it was housekeeping – She said and aimed to enter but Anastasia took her arm.

-          No! Wait. Do not enter; let’s call Gunham - Their bodyguard.

Gunham, a big muscle blonde guy with tattoos on his arms and a deep voice, came right away and entered the room. The girls, in the aisle, heard a couple of noises and a small scream. Then some hotel staff showed up. The girls knew something happened, something bad and Gunham affirmed it to them.

-          There was a guy inside, he was searching through your clothes – Anastasia and Mandy looked at each other and they began to tremble – But it’s all right now, I grabbed him and the staff is holding him until the police arrive. I don’t think is a good idea for you two to enter, so stay here.

Mandy called her brother who appeared real fast with Eric and Josh, who held Anastasia in a tight hug.

-          What happened? – Nick asked.

-          An and I saw the door opened and we got afraid to enter so we called Gunham to come and check it out and he found a guy inside – Mandy explained.

-          What was he doing there? – Eric asked this time.

-          I don’t know… I’m just shocked – Mandy said again.

-          Are you ok? – Josh said holding Anastasia’s face with both hands. She nodded and he kissed her on her forehead and hugged her again.

Gunham came out of the room again and told them he was going to take care of the situation, but he didn’t want the girls to be there so the boys decided to take them to Nick and Eric’s room, and later the police would talk to them. The news spread and soon Anthony, Chad, Flea and Carl were on the boy’s room too.

-          I really could go there and punch that guy in the face – Anthony said.

-          What was he doing there? – Flea asked.

-          No one knows yet – Eric answered.

Josh didn’t let Anastasia go of his arms the whole time. The police called them and took the girls back into their room; the intruder was already in police custody. When the girls saw their room they started to cry because of the scene. Everything was a mess, their clothes were scattered all over the place, even their underwear. The police asked to turn on their laptops and see if anything was wrong with them. After a check by the technological police team they confirmed that the guy didn’t touch their computers. The agents took some evidence and left three hours later, leaving the girls alone in that room with that disaster.

The guy was a Mandy fan that thought he could get more of the bass player, and checked and touched all of hers and Anastasia’s clothes because he couldn’t figure out which belonged to whom. When Gunham found him he was grabbing Mandy’s underwear. The mere thought of that scene made the friends ill and Mandy couldn’t stop crying the whole time. The pink haired girl slept in her brother’s room and Anastasia went to sleep in Josh’s room that night after they cleaned the mess. Josh was so angry and so concerned. His protective attitude proved Anastasia that he was very serious about her, but she was still in shock about the intruder to think about anything else.

The morning after that terrible episode Anastasia woke up feeling everything was a nightmare. She opened her eyes and saw Josh watching her, playing with her hair.

-          Good morning – He said to her.

-          Am I still dreaming? – She said looking at Josh’s face with a tender smile on her lips.

-          How do you feel today? – Josh asked.

-          I’m still trying to process these days in Italy. They have been weird.

-          Yeah I’ve been thinking about that.

-          Me too. Last night I couldn’t sleep.

-          Why didn’t you wake me up?

-          You have done a lot already.

-          I don’t want you suffering alone.

-          Do you think that our relationship could affect your career?  - Anastasia suddenly asked, leaving Josh silent.

-          Honestly, I don’t know. Obviously people know about it and I think that we should take distance when we’re be in public – Josh words got into Anastasia’s heart like blades.

-          You were the one trying to masturbate me on a wine tasting the other day.

-          I’m sorry. I just don’t want to see my name in some pink gossip website – “There he goes again”, Anastasia thought.

-          We are at it again, aren’t we? – Anastasia didn’t think the words that were about to come out of her mouth – You know what? Maybe we aren’t meant to be together.

-          What are you saying? – Josh asked sitting up on the bed.

-          What do you want to do about us?

-          I don’t understand – Josh said and Anastasia got up from the bed.

-          I don’t want to make more decisions because I always choose wrong – she said while putting her shoes and started to walk to the door.

-          That’s what you do? You run away from everything? That’s your thing – Josh said still from the bed.

Anastasia listened to him but didn’t stop, she slammed the door on her way out, like a little brat girl; she left the place and walked to her own room without looking back. She thought Josh was gonna get along with all the fame thing but it was far from the truth. He still had problems with that and, honestly, she couldn’t do anything to solve the problem, it was something way out of her hands. She suddenly got angry. She was the one receiving hits in the streets and insults from his fans and he just had the nerve to say he didn’t wish to be part of the tabloids. The weird thing was that nothing about their relationship had been reviewed by the press yet. Her moods had been changing wildly in the last days and she knew that leaving Josh’s room had been wrong, but the only thing she wanted to do that day was to get on a plane and get the hell out Italy.

Read chapter 15

[buenosairesnews]

Xavi HERNANDEZ talks MESSI, Argentina, MARADONA and more

In a lengthy interview with La Nacion, football legend Xavi HERNANDEZ spoke about a number of topics regarding Lionel MESSI and the Argentina National Team.

Xavi HERNANDEZ has done it all. Multiple time European champion with Spain, a World Cup winner, several Champions League medals, in short, he had an illustrious career. He also spent most of his playing years alongside Lionel MESSI and even several seasons with Javier MASCHERANO. When asked about the two and the comparisons between Lionel MESSI and Diego MARADONA, he didn’t hold back. Here’s what he had to say:

About how MESSI does what Xavi did, playing, organizing…

“MESSI can do what Xavi does, what RAKITIC does, what BUSQUETS does, what INIESTA does, what SUAREZ does. He does everything well this kid. If you put him in the middle, he can be the best central midfielder in the world. If he wants to take the ball off you, he’ll steal it off. If he feels like dribbling you, he’ll dribble you. If he wants to give a pass, he’ll give the best assist in the world. If he takes a free kick, he’ll put in at the right angle. He’s a footballer that cannot be compared to anyone. He’s like MARADONA was in his time, how PELE was in his time. He’s the best player in history.”

Joking about how the only position that is safe is that of goalkeeper TER STEGEN:

“Exactly. He’s a mold on how to play football, he’s great. Furthermore, he is competitive, a winner, a hard worker, generous with the team. He shines in everything he does. We have to enjoy him until he can’t play anymore because there won’t be anyone else of his level.”

On if he thinks he or INIESTA should have won the 2010 Ballon d’Or:

“No, no, no. At the moment, when GUARDIOLA took the paper out and read MESSI, I had a feeling of justice. Simply because MESSI is the best. Better than INIESTA, XAVI, BUSQUETS. Why? Because he dominates everything he does. MESSI can do what Xavi does but Xavi cannot do what MESSI does. And the same for the rest of the players. It’s for that reason that the Balon d’Or in 2010 didn’t hurt. The truth is, we should give it to him every year.”

On MESSI and the Argentina National Team:

“He feels very Argentine, he is very patriotic about his country. He has the hunger and the necessity to win with Argentina. For him, it’s an enormous frustration having not won, the truth is it’s not just his frustration but the entire generation of Argentine footballers that have had bad luck in key moments. To lose two Copa’s America by penalty shoots, a final of the World Cup in extra time, ouf. If football was fair, Argentina is owe something. This generation of footballers deserves to win something. We will see at the World Cup in Russia, Argentina, no doubt are one of the favorites. I believe SAMPAOLI works really well and having MESSI and that entire generation, Argentina have a lot of chances of being champions.”

On if Argentina have taken advantage of MESSI the way Barcelona have:

“Yes, for sure but at the same time it is unfair to say that because they have reached finals and finals are won on details, key moments. We won a World Cup in 2010 but had ROBEEN scored off his shot, the one that CASILLAS saved with his foot, we would not be talking about Spain winning anything. It’s a very fine line between winning and losing. Argentina have the bad luck that Spain had before, when we would get eliminated off penaltyes, when the referee would make a mistake or it wasn’t our day.”

On how people think MESSI has to win a World Cup to be at the same level as MARADONA:

“For me, he’s not missing it, he’s already the best in history, I haven’t seen anyone better than him. I understand the talk about MARADONA, he was and is everyone’s idol. But there are people that say MESSI has not done what MARADONA did. I understand that, but on a footballing level, MESSI has done everything MARADONA did 30 years later, in 2018 it costs twice as much, from the tactical point of view, physically, technically and mentally, all the football players are better. And the same thing will happen 30 years from now, footballers will be better because live evolves. For me, there’s no debate; MESSI is the best player I have seen in history. And after that comes MARADONA.”

On if 2018 is the last World Cup for Lionel MESSI:

“No, I see him being capable of getting to Qatar 2022 because physically he takes care of himself more. Technically speaking, he won’t lose his talent. At 35 or 36, he can get there perfectly, why not? It would depend on him, his mentality, his eagerness to continue. And also what happens at the World Cup in Russia, I would think.”

On what he thinks of Javier MASCHERANO:

“He’s a friend like MESSI. We have a friendship, I have a lot of respect and love for him. MASCHERANO is a natural leader, a person that transmitted a lot to Barcelona. He was an example on how to conduct yourself, how to adapt to a new life and a new style of player; it wasn’t easy for him at first. Javi was an example, on and off the pitch to anyone who arrived to the team. Without wearing the captain’s armband, the last few years, he was a captain for Barcelona. I wish him all the best in his new life in China.”

On Argentina and Jorge SAMPAOLI:

“I believe Argentina have won a lot with SAMPAOLI, he’s a coach who has very clear ideas, is prepared and works well. His teams have an identity. We saw him with Sevilla and Chile, where he did great things. He has a great way of transmiting things. I believe that the identity and ideas that SAMPAOLI will give the group will be very good. And he has MESSI, he’s already a favorite for the title. And if with that you have all the good players that accompany him and a coach capable of lifting the team, Argentina are total favorites.”

Argentina soccer news

[travelworldnetwork]

By Jessica Jones

17 December 2018

A pessebre, a Catalan nativity scene, contains all the usual suspects. There’s Mary and Joseph gazing down lovingly at baby Jesus, sleeping in his manger. There are the oxen, gently lowing, and perhaps some shepherds. But look closer, and hidden among the traditional characters is a little figure, trousers down, doing his business right in the middle of the holy scene.

The caganer – literally ‘defecator’ – is a staple of Christmas in Catalonia in north-east Spain. The traditional figure depicts a peasant wearing black trousers, a white shirt and the classic red Catalan cap – the barretina. He may also be smoking a pipe and reading a newspaper.

It’s like the funny part of something that is supposed to be very serious

“It’s like the funny part of something that is supposed to be very serious – the nativity,” laughed caganer collector Marc-Ignasi Corral, 53, from Barcelona. Yes, the figure is so popular it even has its very own society, the Friends of the Caganer Association (L’associació Amics del Caganer), of which Corral is a proud member. Founded in 1990, the society has around 70 members – some from as far afield as Mexico – who meet twice a year.

Traditional caganers are made from clay, fired in a kiln of more than 1,000C, then hand-painted. As the industry has grown, the caganer has evolved; now there are many different kinds, both in design and material.

“I’ve got ones made of soap, I’ve got chocolate ones, but those are meant to be eaten of course,” said Corral, whose bookshelves are dotted with his collection of more than 200 caganers. “I’ve got glass ones… I’ve seen them made from Nespresso capsules.”

View image of The caganer, or ‘defecator’, is a staple of Christmas in Spain’s Catalonia region (Credit: Credit: Campillo Rafael/Alamy)

You may also be interested in: • Is this where Santa is really from? • Europe’s terrifying Christmas tradition • The Guatemalan deity of vice

Firmly planted in folk tradition, the roots of the caganer are vague, but generally agreed to date from around the late 17th or early 18th Century when the prevailing Baroque tradition, both in Catalonia and beyond, focused on realism in art, sculpture and literature. In their book El Caganer, authors Jordi Arruga and Josep Mañà write: “This was a time characterised by extreme realism… all of which relied heavily on descriptions of local life and customs. Here, working conditions and homelife were used as artistic themes.”

One real-life depiction was the caganer.

The reason it has been passed down the generations, however, is clear: the idea of defecating has long been linked to everything from good luck to prosperity to good health.

“Excrement equals fertilisation equals money equals luck and prosperity. Or so say the anthropologists,” said historian Enric Ucelay-Da Cal, emeritus professor at Barcelona’s Pompeu Fabra University.

“It is said that to not put a caganer in the crib will bring bad luck,” added caganer maker Marc Alos Pla, whose family runs caganer.com, the world’s biggest caganer producer. This year he predicts sales will surpass 30,000.

View image of The caganer is believed to date back to the late 17th or early 18th Century, when realism was the focus of art (Credit: Credit: Miquel Benitez/Getty Images)

And far from seeing the caganer as uncouth or even graphic, Catalans have a relaxed view of them as merely depicting a natural act.

“We don’t see it as rude. I mean as rude as when you go to the toilet,” Corral laughed. “We hide things – we’re in a society where we’re hiding everything. We hide death for instance.”

Furthermore, Catalans do not stop at one Christmas tradition.

Caga Tió, literally the ‘Defecating Log’ (also called the Tió de Nadal, the ‘Christmas Log’) is also a staple in many Catalan homes in the run-up to Christmas.

It has a pleasantly subversive quality, naughty but nice

On the feast of the Immaculate Conception, on 8 December, families start ‘feeding’ Caga Tió scraps of food. He is covered with a blanket to keep him warm until, on Christmas Eve or Christmas Day, when he has had enough to ‘eat’, the children hit him with sticks while singing a song that encourages him to defecate:

Caga tió / poo log Caga torró, avellanes i mató / poo nougat, hazelnuts and mató (cheese) Si no cagues bé / if you don’t poo well, et daré un cop de bastó / I’ll hit you with a stick Caga tió / poo log!

For the log doesn’t produce any old excrement… he defecates Christmas presents.

Before hitting the Tió, children go to another part of the house to pray for him to bring them gifts, while their parents take the opportunity to stash small treats like Christmas sweets under the blanket.

“The Tió seems to be a pretty old Christmas idea… in medieval times it was found all over Europe, from Scandinavia down to the Western Mediterranean: the idea of a ‘Yule Log’, which lasted until about World War Two,” Ucelay-Da Cal said.

View image of Another Catalan Christmas tradition, the Caga Tió defecates presents after children hit him with a stick (Credit: Credit: Emilio Ereza/Alamy)

What is it about these traditions, which in other parts of the world might be seen as explicit or rude, that attracts so many Catalans?

“I love the transgression of norms, the tradition they represent and the artwork in itself,” Corral explained, while Ucelay-Da Cal said the caganer “has a pleasantly subversive quality, naughty but nice, as it were.”

In fact, the themes of defecation are reserved not only for Christmas, but run like a common thread through Catalan culture, from idioms to art.

“This fits in with a Catalan (and Spanish) taste for egalitarianism: everybody [poos], however important they may be,” said Ucelay-Da Cal.

View image of Catalans have a relaxed view of the caganer, seeing them as merely depicting a natural act as opposed to being uncouth (Credit: Credit: Miquel Benitez/Getty Images)

When it comes to language, Catalan is filled with stool-related sayings and idioms. Where in English we might say two extremely close people are ‘as thick as thieves’ and in Spanish that phrase would be ‘como uña y carne’ (like [finger] nail and flesh), Catalans say two are people are like ‘cul i mierda’ – backside and excrement.

“There is a cliché that Germanic languages are [full of] faecal metaphors, while Romance languages stress virility. Certainly the Spanish tradition – and very specifically Catalan scatological custom – would deny this affirmation,” Ucelay-Da Cal said.

Defecation has also appeared in Catalan art and literature going back hundreds of years.

Everybody poos, however important they may be

In his book, Barcelona, which looks at Catalan history, art and culture, art critic Robert Hughes writes that the figure of the caganer “makes an unmistakable entrance into 20th-Century art” in the work of Joan Miró.

Look closely at Miró’s 1921-22 painting The Farm, and you will see what looks like a small child squatting close to his mother while she does the washing.

This boy, Hughes writes, “is none other than the caganer of Miró’s childhood Christmases. It may also be Miró himself, the future painter of Man and Woman in Front of a Pile of Excrement (1935).”

View image of The theme of defecation fits in with a Catalan (and Spanish) taste for egalitarianism (Credit: Credit: Campillo Rafael/Alamy)

Catalan writers, too, have long depicted the scatological, with Hughes arguing that it is firmly entrenched in Catalan folk tradition. “…There has always been a vigorous strain of scatological humour in [Catalan] folk songs, folk poetry and educated verse,” he writes.

He cites one verse in particular, in the 13th-Century Versos Bruts (Coarse Poems), which recounts a discussion between two nobles in which they describe “One hundred noble ladies who went to sea in a boat and, becalmed, got back to shore by farting in chorus into its sails.”

One area of Catalan culture you might assume stays firmly away from the scatological is food – but, inevitably, you would be wrong. Feeling peckish, you might wander into a Catalan bakery and be confronted with a popular baked good known – rather unappetisingly – as a ‘pet de monja’, or ‘nun’s fart’.

View image of A caganer of a yellow ribbon, a symbol of solidarity with Catalonia’s jailed independence leaders, should be a bestseller (Credit: Credit: LLUIS GENE/Getty Images)

And even Catalan politics has taken a toilet-humour turn, with the region’s strong independence movement reflected in recent caganer bestsellers. Exiled former regional president Carles Puigdemont is a favourite, and in 2017, a Tweety Pie caganer sold out (when the Spanish government sent in extra police to control the 2017 independence referendum, they slept on a ship whose exterior featured a gigantic Tweety Pie).

In 2018, a caganer of a yellow ribbon sporting a pair of big eyes and a mouth depicting the symbol used in solidarity with Catalonia’s jailed independence leaders – is expected to be a bestseller.

The caganer is now turning into a way of keeping a memory of living history

“It’s a reflection of what is happening,” said Corral. “The caganer is now turning into a way of keeping a memory of living history. It’s a reality. We have political prisoners.”

While caganers have not reached the worldwide ubiquity of the Christmas tree, they are becoming increasingly well known outside Catalonia. The figures have long been a tradition in areas of Portugal and Naples, Italy, and are also gaining fans further afield.

“In the caganer society we have members from Italy, Germany, Japan, the United States, so it’s an international society,” Corral said.

In fact, around 50% of caganer.com’s foreign sales are shipped to the US, according to Alos Pla, with popular figures including Barack Obama and Hillary Clinton. Alos Pla predicts that Donald Trump and David Bowie will sell in large numbers this year.

View image of Today, many celebrities, politicians and even popular fictional characters have their own caganer (Credit: Credit: Toni Vilches/Alamy)

Whether you give someone a caganer of someone they love or loathe is up to you – but many people take it as a compliment:

“For many famous people it has become an honour to have their own caganer,” said Alos Pla.

Corral is more blunt. “I mean if you don’t have a caganer, you are nobody nowadays.”

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[freebetalerts-blog]

Rivaldo Exclusive: 'Spectacular' Hazard would be a real tonic for Real Madrid

(New post on FreeBetAlerts.com) - https://freebetalerts.com/2018/10/11/rivaldo-exclusive-spectacular-hazard-would-be-a-real-tonic-for-real-madrid/ #Football, #Freebets, #Tips

Rivaldo Exclusive: 'Spectacular' Hazard would be a real tonic for Real Madrid Please share.

In this week’s exclusive column, Betfair Ambassador . urges Real Madrid to do their best to capture Eden Hazard from the Chelsea after the Belgian admitted the Spanish giants were his ‘dream club’… “In my opinion, Hazard could play even better at Real Madrid than in England as Spanish football gives a little more freedom to the players. So if he is already producing masterpieces in the Premier League, he could get even better in Spain.”

Hazard a superb fit for Real Madrid

The Belgian attacker is a great player and could be a very good option for his ‘dream club’ Real Madrid in the next transfer window. Hazard was excellent for Belgium at the World Cup and has started the new Premier League season very well.

For that reason, Real Madrid should be considering his signing, especially given their recent poor form and Hazard’s stated desire to play at the Bernabeu.

This kind of move could be good for the club and fans, as the arrival of a top player would give a much needed boost after Cristiano Ronaldo’s departure. Hazard is very talented, scores goals and assists a lot – he’s a spectacular player who I particularly appreciate.

In my opinion, Hazard could play even better at Real Madrid than in England as Spanish football gives a little more freedom to the players. So if he is already producing masterpieces in the Premier League, he could get even better in Spain.

Julen Lopetegui in danger

When you are manager of a big team which is used to winning titles and has won three Champions League in three years it’s obvious that press and fans will put pressure on your shoulders if you are not generating good results.

In football, the first head to roll is always the manager, and despite the fact Lopetegui is only at the start of his tenure in Madrid, he cannot for instance go out of Champions League too early or let someone go away at the top of La Liga table.

If that happens, the possibility of being replaced for another manager will mount. In a big club no one wants to wait for results, as they are used to winning regularly.

Personally, I think it’s too early to start mentioning possible candidates to replace Lopetegui as he deserves more time to work on improving the team’s quality.

Big two’s struggles are good for La Liga

The slow starts for Barcelona and Real Madrid are a positive for La Liga as a whole, showing that clubs such as Atletico, Valencia or Sevilla can also compete for top places, and competition is always a good thing.

There are some leagues in Europe that are almost decided after just eight or nine fixtures. In Serie A, I think no one believes Juventus could let the title run away from them, and in France, Neymar’s team PSG is also very comfortable at the top and looking unstoppable.

I like the way things are going in Spain, not knowing who the champions are going to be and five or six clubs fighting at the top of the table. It makes La Liga more attractive.

Messi and who else?

As already mentioned in this column, Lionel Messi is a distinct kind of player from all the others. Luis Suarez is on a bad run of scoring form right now, especially away from home where he hasn’t scored for a long time. He is actually playing well but the chances and the luck are not allowing him to find the net more often.

So, it’s Messi assuming all responsibility – as one of the best players in the World – and no one can be surprised about his importance on the team.

Of course, it would be nicer to have three or four players on good form to help Messi when he is not at his best. On his worst days, it’s important to have someone taking responsibility but that’s not happening, and Messi is leading the team in the Champions League and La Liga.

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Will You Translate My Crappy English/Spanish Language Contract Into Chinese to Make it Legal in China?

My firm’s answer is always a resounding NO.

Every couple of weeks one of our China lawyers will get an English or Spanish language contract (these usually go to our Barcelona office) with the following question: “What would you charge to translate this for China.” We typically respond by asking whether they want just a straight translation or whether they want us to “make the contract work for China” as well. About 98% of the time the response is something along the lines of how they would like us “to fix any problems you see while translating.”

In the case of the approximately 2% who want a straight translation we explain that we are a law firm and not a translation agency and that means we do not translate documents. We then suggest they use a good translator, of which there are countless.

For those who want us to fix any problems, we explain how that will require a lot more than our having one of our bilingual attorneys simply make a few corrections while translating; it will require we gather up all of facts relevant to the transaction and discuss with them (our new client) their goals for the transaction and their goals for China and even their goals for the rest of the world. Oftentimes, this also requires we conduct legal research on China national and local laws and speak with Chinese government officials. Much of the time this also requires we do at least basic due diligence on the Chinese counter-party. Does it really exist? Is it licensed to legally do the business that will be set forth for it to do under the contract? We often instruct them to register their key IP (usually trademarks, design patents, copyrights) in China before doing any sort of deal or signing any contract.Much of the time, we end up telling them that the whole structure of their deal is wrong and instead of an X contract, they need a Y contract. We also usually need to provide them with a China NNN Agreement to protect their IP and trade secrets before they reveal anything more to the Chinese side of the deal. In other words, our work on this will be no different in type or scope than if we were to draft the contract from scratch ourselves.

Why is this always the case? Because this is China and because contracts that work for the United States, Australia, Canada, Spain, Mexico, etc., do not work for China and putting those contracts into Chinese won’t change that. See China Contracts: Make Them Enforceable Or Don’t Bother. Almost without exception, the contracts we are provided will not be enforceable in China and thus will not work at all for the company that believes all they need is a translation and a “clean-up.”

Every once in a while the potential client will push back and ask a question or two that reveals that he or she plans to move forward on their own, but still wants our help to improve upon what they have already done. I was once irritatingly asked if I would “just tell him how we arrive at our liquidated damages amount for our China NNN Agreements” and “then refer him to a really good English-Chinese translator.”

My irritated response to that was as follows:

You can translate your NNN perfectly (and good luck with that) but there is still a 99.99% chance it will be completely ineffective. I say this because I have never seen an NNN that works that has not been written by a very experienced China lawyer and written expressly for the client’s specific situation. I suggest you read some of our blog posts on how IP leaks out through third parties unless your NNN Agreement or other agreement includes provisions preventing IP from long to these other third parties. This is only one of many ways the NNN you want translated pretty will still be ineffective.

As for the amount of liquidated damages [more properly called contract damages], that is an art not a science. See China Contract Damages: More Art Than Science. You also must write this provision in a very specific way because if it is deemed to be a penalty and not a valid and reasonable effort at quantifying damages, no Chinese court will enforce it. In the end the right amount is based on, among other things, the court’s predilection in the Chinese city in which the disputes will be resolved (as China’s courts are all over the map on this — and you had better choose the right court for your disputes or your contract will be unenforceable), the value of the product at issue, the value of the IP at issue, the size and economic strength of the companies involved, and the type and value and nature of the IP at issue. Oh, and the most important thing is that the amount be low enough such that the Chinese side will sign it and the court will enforce it, yet not so low that it will fail to deter the Chinese side from violating your contract. You also need to write this so that you are not limited to just the amount you set forth for damages, but so that you are also free to pursue other damages on top of this.

The whole point of the contract damages provision is usually not to get the penalty; it is to prevent the Chinese side from using your IP itself, or leaking it out to one of its “sister” companies. The value in properly drafted contract damages provisions is that they allow you to go to a Chinese court and freeze the assets of the Chinese company. When part of an NNN Agreement, your contract damages provision must be written so the Chinese company believes it is better off not stealing your IP than suffering the wrath of that provision if it does.

If despite the above, you want to spend money on translating I don’t think it matters who you use and you really do not need someone who knows legal terminology because you have not used the right legal terminology in the English language version of your NNN Agreement in the first place. There are plenty of Chinese translators on UpWork but because we do not use outside translators I cannot recommend anyone to you.

I wish you all the best with this.

Bottom Line:  Translating a bad contract into Chinese does not a Chinese contract make it.

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