#european footballers going to la to find love

[daniel-munthe-agger]

has anyone seen love undercover?

[canirove]

Frenkie de Jong Imagine

Author’s note: This is a request from Wattpad. They wanted something sad, but I had no idea what to write. I told a friend about it, and she joked about last season when Manchester United kicked Barça out of the Europa League, so I used that as my inspiration. Is it sad? I don't know, tbh 😅 Also, no idea if he played that much and was one of the best. I don't watch Barça's games or keep up with them. Hope you like it and thank you for reading! 💜

Masterlist

"Frenkie, lunch is... What are you doing still in bed? And what are you listening to?" I say when I walk into our room.

"Break up songs."

"Why? Are you going to break up with me?"

"What? No, no. It isn't that."

"Then?"

"I'm sad and this helps" he shrugs.

"Ok... Why are you sad?"

"Why? Do you really have to ask why?"

"Yeah."

"This season sucks! I suck!"

"You don't suck, Frenkie" I chuckle.

"Yes, I do! The whole team does!"

"You won 5-0 this weekend. That isn't something a team that sucks do" I say, moving to sit on the bed next to him.

"But what did we do on Wednesday? Lose 0-4 against Real Madrid and at home, which meant goodbye to the Copa del Rey."

"Yeah... That was unexpected."

"It wasn't. We suck. Or have you forgotten what happened in Europe?"

"You..."

"We got kicked out twice. Twice!"

"Second time was against a big team like Manchester United, it can happen."

"But we are freaking Barcelona! We should be able to win or at least put up a fight against other big European teams and don't look like fools!"

"You didn't look like fools, Frenkie. It was so tight anyone could have won."

"But who won? Them" he says, covering his head with the duvet. "I should have signed for them."

"What?" I laugh.

"With them I would have won something already. And since Casemiro is constantly out because of red cards, I would be playing a lot."

"You also are playing a lot here. You are always named amongst the best of the team."

"Yet look at us. We aren't winning a thing" he scoffs.

"You are going to win La Liga."

"Or not."

"Frenkie..."

"Or not!" he says, uncovering his head and sitting up. "Yes, Real Madrid are losing points, but look at what they did the other day! At what they do in the Champions League! They could suddenly change and win all the games from here to the end of the season!"

"I doubt it" I chuckle.

"But they can!"

"And the world can end tomorrow for all we know!"

"It actually can, yes. And it will find me here, feeling sorry about myself" he says, laying down again.

"Frenkie..." I sigh.

"Hello from the outsideeeee... At least I can say that I've trieeeeeed" he sings.

"Ok, I've had enough" I say, grabbing his phone from the bedside table and turning off the music.

"Hey! I was singing!"

"And destroying my ears in the process."

"Sorry."

"That's what you are gonna stop being, yes. Sorry for yourself."

"I can't."

"Yes, you can. Because my boyfriend isn't a quitter. If he was, I wouldn't be here."

"What?" Frenkie says.

"How many times did I say no to going out on a date with you?"

"13."

"Wait, so many?" I laugh.

"Yeah. A bit creepy on my side to keep insisting, but" he shrugs.

"A bit, yes. But you never gave up."

"Because I love you."

"And do you know what else you love? Football. That's why you aren't going to give up, and are gonna keep playing, showing how good you are and winning La Liga at the end of the season."

"But..."

"No, no buts. You are gonna get out of that bed, take a shower while I change the sheets, and then we are gonna have lunch together. No more crying or destroying Adele's songs."

"It wasn't that bad..."

"It was worse" I chuckle. "And tomorrow, you are gonna go train and kick some asses, which is what you will do in the next game, and the next, and then the next after that one. Understood?"

"But what if..."

"Nope. The Frenkie I know and love doesn't give up."

"Maybe that Frenkie is gone..."

"Then maybe I'll have to leave him and find myself a new boyfriend. Is Pedri single?"

"You only like blondes" he laughs.

"Maybe I'm done with them" I shrug.

"Ok, fine. I'll stop feeling sorry for myself. There still is a title to win, games to play."

"Exactly" I smile. "Now get out of that bed and go shower. Chop, chop."

"I'm doing it, I'm doing it" he says, slowly leaving the bed.

"Good boy" I smile again. "But can't believe that what made you change your mind was me saying that I was going to leave you for Pedri" I tease him.

"That wasn't it."

"Sure..."

"It wasn't" he says, wrapping an arm around my waist and pulling me against him. "You would never change a blonde for a brunette."

"Well..."

"Never" he repeats.

"Nah, you are right. I like my blonde way too much."

"Even if he sometimes does lame things like feeling sorry for himself while listening to Adele?"

"Even so" I laugh.

"I love you."

"I love you too. And once you've showered, I will love you even more."

"Ok, message received. I stink."

"A bit, yes" I giggle.

"Thank you for everything. You are the best."

"I know. And now go shower!" I say, pushing him away from me.

"Ok, ok. No need to get violent" he says, sticking out his tongue and laughing his ass off when he dodges the pillow I've thrown at him.

[ajakals]

There's a special kind of hurt that I'm going through right now, being able to watch the Olympics and realizing that, in a significant amount of sports, mostly those who rely on grades and/or heavy judge decisions like Artistic Gymnastics, Surfing, Football, and the like, and just seeing my country, that while mostly not all that good, I still kind of like it, I can see its good, being just straight up robbed by international (mostly NA and European judges) commitees that are meant to represent one of the purest forms of human expression (in sports and games), where the Best may shine, and be rewarded thusly, and not seeing that happen on grounds of clear preference for a flag they like more to be at the top.

Honestly, really fucking appropriate I get reminded of this just as I find out I have a slim, real, but incredibly slim chance of being an actual athlete for a sport I fell in love with, that relies on HEAVY judging, and maybe, just maybe, be able to get into LA 2028. It feels insane that the world is like this, it's so wrong, and to know that this is greater than just sports, and that it permeates most people's lives at least to some degree, with people suffering, dying, and so much more for things like this, and, in the Best case scenario all of this is for some stupid fucking reason, and if not, it's for profit, or cruelty, or worse, for nothing. For nothing you will make one's life worse, or unjust, or anything else, and, sometimes like the Olympics, you will remember millions that they, at least in your eyes, they are simply worse, for no choice, decision, will or anything else of their own

[katzkinder]

Once again, going to be allowing myself to indulge since this is primarily visual, and also maybe kinda dumb? But I like it and it’s fun lol.

This time, it’s about the design of Inner Sloth’s chair! :D

Color coded for your convenience and my sanity, let’s jump right into it!

Blue: This isn’t part of the chair itself, but it’s the starting point for a lot of the components of the chair, and also the object, the symbol, that we’ve all come to associate most strongly with Sloth here. The reason why this is significant is not only because it was the flower Sloth was sealed inside of, and not only because of the fairytale imagery of the famous rose from Beauty and the Beast, but also because of Tsubaki.

Tsubaki’s name means Camellia. Red Camellias in particular are associated most strongly with the feeling of being in love, or, more tragically (and also romantically!) the idea of a noble death, since the flower drops from the branches with all its petals intact, as a whole, complete being. For Tsubaki himself, this idea of a beautiful tragedy is very poignant to his character, but it goes deeper than that. 

The camellia is sometimes referred to as the “winter rose” or the “Japanese rose” and is a very popular traditional flower motif, the same way roses are in the west. This is yet another way Kuro and Tsubaki symbolically resemble yet oppose each other!

Pink: This little doohickey on the back of the chair is what’s called a “fleur di lis.” It’s a symbol associated most strongly with the French heraldry, especially under their monarchy, although multiple different European nations have used it for that purpose during history. … And one United States American football team, heralding (ha) from my home city of New Orleans. The reason I wanted to point it out is not because of the flower it represents (which is the lily!), but because of its historical connection with nobility, and the fact that it is one of the most recognizable symbols of France. 

Why is this important? Because the most recognizable version of the classic fairytale Beauty and the Beast, originates from France! La Belle et la Bête was written by French novelist Gabrielle-Suzanne Barbot de Villeneuve and published in 1740 in La Jeune Américaine et les contes marins (The Young American and Marine Tales) and was later abridged, rewritten, and republished for a children’s audience in 1756, which became the version which was most commonly retold. 

Interestingly, one of the inspirations behind this beloved classic is the even more classical tale of Cupid and Psyche, and I’m wondering if maybe we won’t see some allusions to this with Sloth Pair thanks to all the Greek stuff that’s been popping up lately~? … Doubtful! But one can hope lol

Red: Sloth’s horns. Simple, right? |D

Green: Rose thorns! Yet again, simple.

Purple: It’s a sword! Not only does it look similar to the ones C3 wields, but it also resembles the sword found on the door in my previous post

Orange: Now you might have noticed I suddenly skipped around, and this is because despite its simplicity, I actually find this point the most eye-catching! This crossed area acting as a chair backing not only resembles the design on the coffin shaped patch on Kuro’s coat from early chapters (and which all Servamps were originally going to have as part of their design, appropriately numbered)

But it also resembles the… Logo? On C3’s jackets 

which we now know to have been formed by Saint Germaine’s disciples, those three students of his who survived consuming his blood, gained power, and went on to create Magician society as the Servamp universe knows it.

Not only that, but… That symbol, that character, which is part of the uniform for C3… Also appears in Mahiru’s name! The 田 in 城田! 

[stephspurs]

A Family Affair | Euro 2020 Football Fanfiction

hey besties!! here is part 8! Part 8 see's Amelia in a change of colours, her friendship with Jorgi explored more, an awkward Chelsea player and a cheeky Villa boy. Please enjoy & send me your thoughts! Love always, Steph xx

Part 8. | parte otto

word count;  1569 writing tools; third person until dashed line, first person thereafter. next update; Wednesday 11/08 5pm AEST. Updates are three times/week (Monday, Wednesday & Friday)! tags (as requested by users); @footballffbarbiex @obsesseds-world @abysshaven link to fic masterlist here

Landing in the rarely-sunny but always wonderful London town, Amelia was swiftly picked up from the airport by a man in a blacked out Mercedes van and driven away to her new club-appointed accommodation in the royal borough of Kensington and Chelsea. The 24 year old couldn’t help but feel a sense of home resonating through her body. Yes, Italy was also her home for the last 3 years, but there was something in the air in London that really made her believe that this is where she was meant to be.

Whilst happy that her quintessentially-British townhouse was a mere stones throw from Stamford Bridge and her family home just on the other side of the park in Holland Park she was still a 30+ minute commute, without traffic & one way, from Cobham. Beggars can’t be choosers, at least this way she was close to the hustle and bustle of London City, as well as her family and old friends.

A few days had passed since her talk with Fede, her swift departure from bella Italia saw only a small gathering occur at her apartment with some of the juventus boys on the eve before her flight. Constant check-ins from La Cosa Nostra whatsapp group chat, of course the word had spread to the rest of the Italian national team before she had even returned home from Fede’s place, meant that she was never left alone to her thoughts for too long.

Keeping the promise he had made when she phoned to tell him the news, Jorgi was knocking on her front door at 7:30am the following Monday morning, ready to drive the both of them to Cobham for Amelia’s first full day of work. He was the only person who knew she was taking this offer, other than the professional staff at Chelsea FC who had to organise her contract, so it was very much a nerve-wracking drive to the suburban training ground.

“Sapevo che stavi bene con il blu Azzurri, ma il blu Chelsea è un'altra benedizione che mi è stata conferita” (i knew you looked good in Azzurri blue, but Chelsea blue is another blessing bestowed upon me) Jorgi exclaimed as she opened the door to his car and slid in, having stopped right in front of her house in a no-park zone.

“Morning Jorgi, Thanks so much for picking me up - i’ll sort out a car this weekend i suppose”

“It's not a problem, I'm only a couple of streets away anyway so it's not out of my way.”

The pair caught up on the past couple of weeks without each other, speaking on the Fede situation and Amelia’s feelings. The best thing about Jorgi was how he was able to see both sides of the story. He valued Amelia's opinion and feelings as much as his long-time friend, Fede. He knew how hard it was for both parties to come to an amicable separation & he was making a mental note to call his italian pal to thank him for letting the girl go.

Amelia’s first day at Cobham was heavily administrative, spending a lot of time sorting out paperwork, meeting the team of staff she would be joining, getting her uniform, sorting out her office. After a quick bite to eat with the head analyst, Paolo (she just couldn’t seem to escape the Italians altogether), she collected her leather bound notebook and followed her colleague to the first team wing of Cobham. Whilst she was strictly working with the first team, she had expressed interest early on & stipulated it in her formal acceptance, that she wanted the opportunity to work with the academy players and the freedom to dip into the talent pool of Chelsea youth, to assist in perfecting her tactical plays.

She couldn’t deny that the blue of her uniform was the perfect shade to bring out the blue in her more-often-than-not grey eyes, she felt comfortable in it, she felt part of the team. Pushing open the door ahead of them, Paolo stood to the side like a true gentleman and gestured to Amelia through the door first.

______________________________________________________________

Walking in, I noticed that the scene in front of me was similar to the first time I met with some of these players. With their backs to me, facing the front, listening to every word that Tuchel was saying to them. I snuck in, stood to the side and waited for my introduction which came very shortly after.

“I want you all to meet the new tactical analyst that the club has appointed following a very successful european campaign this past summer, Amelia White” Thomas directed towards me, and just like that, a slight bit of deja-vu settled in as i watched 30+ sets of eyes turn to look at me. Some were happy to see me, some were polite and offered a small smile, and just one set looked a little shocked and very guilty.

“I trust you all will treat her with the respect that you show me, Paolo and all other members of this professional staff. We had to fight tooth and nail for this girl to join us and I can’t express how lucky we all are to be learning from her.” Tuchel dismissed his team, Jorgi pushing through the chairs to get to me.

“Amelia! What a surprise! Why didn’t you tell me about this!” Jorgi rushed over to me and wrapped me in a hug that I didn't return. Less than impressed with the boy's antics and sarcasm.

“Oh be quiet, you drove us both here today.” I spoke with a smile and rolled my eyes.

“Always the trouble maker Jorgi!” Mason Mount spoke from behind him.

“Amelia, nice to see you again! Can’t believe you didn’t tell us in the group chat!” Mason continued as he greeted me hello.

“Haha yeah, it all happened very quickly & to be honest, my decision wasn’t final until a couple of days ago. I had a few opportunities and I had to weigh up my options, Chelsea were willing to go a bit above the other clubs so it became obvious. Besides, someone once told me I would look good in the Chelsea blue” That someone also being the person who avoided my messages, and who is currently avoiding my eyes.

Later that evening.

“As if I deserved to know you picked the blues on sky sport?” Jack questioned the girl over facetime that evening, keeping their friendship tradition alive and cooking together.

“It all happened so quickly Jack, I was in talks with a few clubs and there was a bit of a tussle and negotiation stage and then I just had to pick one. Chelsea offered me the opportunity to foster the youth team talent and no one else was willing to cross-contaminate their professional staff” Amelia hurried down the phone, afraid that she hurt the brummie lad’s feelings.

“Calm down Mils, it's fine! I’m only playin wiv’ya. I’m happy for you - and me too, now I can come visit ya and have a place to stay in the city” He joked back to her. Jack had a certain way of calming the girl down, he reminded her a lot of Fede. He could read her before she came to terms with her own thoughts and feelings.

“Are you trying to tell me that you, with all of your friends and all of your money, need to rely on little old me for a place to stay in the city?” The joking tone went back to normal with the two flirtatious friends.

“No, I'm just saying that I'm happy you’re in the city. Ya know, it’s only a 2 hour drive. I could easily come down on a Friday after training and be back before a Sunday game…”

���2 hours is far too long to be in the car just to spend the day with me”

“That's where you’re wrong, it would be two nights and one whole day. Besides, 2 hours in the car is better than having to fly to get to you. I was prepared to do the latter anyway before your big move back to London” Oh did her heart swoon inside her chest, a quick blush spread across her cheeks and a little chuckle left her lips - unable to find the right words to say back to him.

Amelia knew the dangers of the situationship, this was exactly how it happened with Fede. She couldn’t help that she was naturally playful and flirtatious, she often didn't know she was doing it. Normal conversations to her often appeared like a hardcore flirt-fest to anyone who happened to be around the girl. She didn’t want to cross that line with Jack, she knew better than to do that, especially with how she hurt Fede in the end. She didn’t know where she was going to be in a few years, nor where he was going to be.

What she also recognised in the older lad that Fede also possessed, and she would be surprised if he didnt considering he is a professional football player, is that he was determined. Too determined that sometimes it was more about the chase and the challenge, rather than the aftermath or the reward. She knew Jack wouldn’t give up on her and would always be there for her. Was it bad that she enjoyed it?

Part 9. | nona parte

[footballffbarbiex]

I have a genuine question. I don’t mean this in a mean way at all, I just really want to know it. Why are you an Atlético fan? Because of Anto? Or because you idk actually like the team? I’m really interested because truthfully I always thought no one likes them. Every single one of my friends who likes football hates Atlético. And by that I really mean it when I say hate. As Thomas Müller once said “ they’re the biggest brawlers in european Football”. They just play so dirty, it’s annoying to watch. Anytime they play against mine or one of my friends teams were always just worried that they will injure our players because frankly, they don’t give a shit about others. Now other teams definitely do play very dirty every now and then as well but Atlético does it every. Single. Time.

So again I don’t mean it in a mean or hateful way, I’m just genuinely interested. I know you’re not from Madrid, so Atlético probably wasn’t your Club ‘by birth’, so I’m really curious on knowing why Atlético. And is Atlético perceived differently where you live? Maybe it’s just a thing here of being over dramatic when it comes to Atlético.

Usually the moment someone says "no offense" or "this isn't meant in a mean way" and then proceeds to rip something apart in their next statements, the first is usually a lie.

I got into Atleti in....2015 / 2016 because of Fernando Torres because I loved him at Liverpool and wanted to know how he was doing after he left Chelsea. Then came my love for Anto.

Yes Atleti can play defensively and often frowned upon, they also play a lot of fucking boring football. There have been things, such as the City game that I didn't like and can't say I approve of. I will never agree with their style of play always but they're my team. A team which continuously fills their 68, 456 seat stadium with fans which you don't believe exists. However, I've seen more head injuries and injuries in general within the premier league than what I've ever seen Atleti cause. Son broke someone's ankle (unintentionally and he was deeply sorry and cried over it but it was the result regardless). A Leeds player got stretchered off yesterday with a knee fracture. Hell, even yesterday during that same Leeds / City game there was a head collision. Why aren't teams who give actual injuries rather than dirty tackles given the same shame as what Atletico receive?

Atleti are a defensive team, and attacking teams find that frustrating to go up against a team which would rather defend than power through. They know the only way to break through is to piss them off and it works. They're hot headed, they argue and when tempers are rising, yes, they retaliate. There have been plenty of games I've watched where the opponent has known this and goes down easily after contact because they know it's enough to win something.

To say that they're a team who make it their priority to go out there and purposely injure any player they can come into contact with is, quite frankly and I say this unapologetically, bullshit. I would love to know who your and your friends team are to be able to look back on those matches and see how we played against yours.

I'm from England and so most people who have a say on Atleti are those who do not follow La Liga and only have comments to make during European nights. It's easy to make a villain out of a team that you don't watch week in and week out.

[hobipaint]

Sunshine, Inc. - Masterlist [hiatus]

summary: Every trip for Hoseok is the same. Show them around, take pictures, let them eat, souvenirs, back home. It's easy to smile while doing this, but over the years, he's been on the same route - travelling the world the same way, chasing the sun in one direction. It's only obvious that his awe has reduced. To his surprise, though, there's someone who can rival his disinterest - you.

↳ pairing : hoseok x female reader

↳ genres: fluff, angst, world tour! au

↳ disclaimers: mild cursing, discussions of mental health. warnings will be given at the beginning for each chapter.

a/n: hey there, you! this fic is currently on hiatus because I have once again been thrown on the loop de loop called exams. chapters are currently in work, but I have big ideas and even bigger drafts rn so idk when its going to come back. till then, please be patient! thank you so much for being here 💞

• Destinations:

Hey there!

Welcome to Sunshine, Inc.!

Here, we give you the list of cities for our world tour package we call Strands of Colours™. In this tour, there'll be fun, adventures, food, and maybe, some romance?

Any conditions about the travel will be mentioned alongside the cities as we travel - so rest assured as our capable team takes care of your travels.

We hope you have a wonderful trip, and thank you for choosing Sunshine, Inc.!

teaser

• We begin with our pick up from Los Angeles - in case you're from outside LA, we can arrange for pickups from there as well. No biggie. Your necessary flight details shall be emailed to you with utmost attention paid to your preferences. Just sit back and relax; envision yourself in the flight that will begin your trip.

here is the mood you'll want in this city!

• We head on to London, the capital of the United Kingdoms, home to the Brits. Here, our tour guides shall take you along with locals to showcase the finest sights in a city that holds thousands of years of history. Lose yourself amidst the flowers that line the city's numerous parks, feel like royalty near Birmingham, and of course - try the London Eye!

here is the mood you'll want for this city!

• Next up: the French capital, Paris. Singles and couples, prepare yourself for the abundance of romance that is carefully sprinkled in the air of the city of love. Trace years of French history with heritage walks lined through the heart of the city- including a visit to the majestic Louvre. Our local guides shall also showcase to you how to experience a true Parisian experience, comme les français.

here is the mood you'll want for this city!

• Welcome to the city that holds the legacy of European football, Madrid! Tingle your party sense in the hubbub of Madrid's active nightlife, with evening strolls that show the beauty of the Spanish city. Find peace in the day with the cooling gardens and fountains of the Buen Retiro Park and the Crystal Park. Find various flavours hidden in the delicious streetfood of the city, different from the rest of the world - a truly unique experience.

here is the mood you'll want for this city!

• A city rich with history, welcome to Berlin. Our local guides shall take you back through numerous pages of the city's story, the good and bad, pleasing your senses with architectural beauties like Brandenburg Gate or Reichstag. Watch the numerous memorials of the wars this city has faced, and wonder at the beauty and peace of the city today. All while being accompanied by the best in German food.

here is the mood you'll want for this city!

• After all the heat, we take you to the coolness of Zurich, Switzerland. Let us take you through one of the most luxurious cities in the world, at the foot of the Alps and home to Lake Zurich. Its numerous art galleries and museums will be sure to be of your fancy, and of course, loads of Swiss chocolate will be available for you!

here is the mood you'll want for this city!

• When in Rome, do as the Romans do! Let our guides show you around this marvelous city and its beauty that transcends generations. Enjoy popular attractions like the Colosseum and the Spanish steps, and the Italian grace that lines the cobbled pathways of the city. Also, visit the Vatican city, just a 15 minute walk from the heart of Rome.

here is the mood you'll want for this city!

• Get a feel of the Ancient Greeks in Athens while walking through its streets, aeons of power and tradition shining in its history. See the Greek architectures that are the fame of this city, interspersed with its bustling night life and modern lifestyle. There are surprises hidden in around every corner in this city - showcased to you through customized tour packages that you can choose.

here is the mood you'll want for this city!

• Where Europe meets Asia, welcome to Istanbul! Experience the archaic yet modern vibe of the city, its colourful architecture and its leisurely pace. Visit the historic Silk Market, the beginning of the Silk Route; also, don't forget to join us while visiting the famed Spice Bazaar, Bursa and the other exciting destinations in this one-of-a-kind city.

here is the mood you'll want for this city!

• An ultra modern city, Dubai has proven itself as one of the most indulgent, glamorous and progressive cities in the world. Home to marvels like the Burj Khalifa, Atlantis, while showcasing the beauty of the deserts surrounding the city - let yourself soak the opulence of this city while navigating its multiple shopping areas; all the help of our guides, of course.

here is the mood you'll want for this city!

•The city that never sleeps, Mumbai is sure to awaken all your senses. The Gateway of India, this city will give you a chance to see all of its cultures mingle in one place. Watch the life of the city through its numerous theatres and galleries. Experience the hubbub of one of the most populated cities in the world along with its savoury street food with the help of our guides.

here is the mood you'll want for this city!

• Next, we visit Shanghai, the modern yet quaint capital of China. Take walks around the Bund and its 52 unique buildings, or visit the Yu Garden and the Jade Buddha temple. Soak yourself in classical Chinese art at the Shanghai Cultural Museum and more places - all carefully planned for you by our guides.

here is the mood you'll want for this city!

• Right in time for the cherry blossoms, Seoul will lead us to a spring fairyland that is filled with the natural beauty of the mountains surrounding it. The city also houses massive markets that boast of sumptuous street food and vibrant clothing, and tourist attractions like the Seoul Tower - don't miss out on any!

here is the mood you'll want for this city!

• An ultra-modern city, Tokyo boasts of multiple museums, festivals, internationally appreciated cuisine and sports clubs. This city is also rich in music and theater, with rock and pop concerts, dramas, musicals and symphony orchestras. The city also forms a base to explore all of Japan - pieces of which shall be showcased to you on this tour.

here is the mood you'll want for this city!

• Bangkok is a fascinating city: crowded, noisy, colourful and exciting. There are wonderful, ancient temples and sites, and modern malls that boast of high fashion lined in their shops. The tour shall also be including a visit to Phuket, as a getaway - be sure to be there!!

here is the mood you'll want for this city!

•Home to the Merlion, Singapore has been well known as a tourist destination for decades now. The city's simplicity in transport and beautiful architecture have made it a favourite, and the variance in attractions - from the Gardens by the Bay and Singapore Zoo to Orchard Road and Clarke Quay - makes it a wonderful place to visit. We'll make sure that you don't miss out on any!!

here is the mood you'll want for this city!

• Bali - the name of the city itself brings thoughts of tropical airs, sizzling peanuts, roaring mopeds and the gentle gamelan music. This city is hailed as one of the most popular tourist islands in the Indonesian archipelago, and with all good reasons only. Come and explore more about this island along with us in an all new style.

here is the mood you'll want for this city!

• The oldest of Australian cities, Sydney brings about a wonderful mingling of chic modern styles and energetic adventure. The city is home to famous destinations like the Opera House, and is packed with activities for everyone to give a try! Make sure you don't miss out on any while travelling with us.

here is the mood you'll want for this city!

•Finally, we make the trip back home to LA, where you'll be dropped back to your homes. We hope you will enjoy the your with us, and keep travelling with Sunshine, Inc. Thank you for your time!!

a/n: this is the masterlist for Sunshine, Inc. clicking on the cities will lead you to the chapter for that particular city -if it is confusing, feel free to leave a comment about the same! Thank you for reading 💞💞 Also, if you want to be added to the taglist you can leave a comment or ask for the same! love, hazel 🤗

[fandommemporiumm]

if you're okay with it, can I have headcanons of the la squadra members (separately) with their crush when they're on a mission together but theres only one bed in the hotel they're resting in? (nothing nsfw) thank you 👉👈

A/N: I apologize for this being so late. I was so excited to do this but didn’t have any time till now. Hope you enjoy it. I had a lot of fun since it’s one of my favorite fic plots XD

Risotto: The mission was a quick success. It was evening by the time it was over and they went to the hotel risotto booked in advance. While waiting in the lobby you could see risotto talking to the front desk a little too long. When he got the room keys he called you over and headed to the room. Upon entering the room you could see what the commotion was about. Only one big bed. Risotto claimed that he would sleep on the floor but when you were done showering you saw he fell asleep on the bed still fully closed. Slipping under the covers you let sleep take you. In the morning you woke up lying on something hard and warm and breathing. You got up slightly and saw you were lying on risotto's chest, a big hand wrapped around you and tugged you back down onto his chest. Looking up you saw a small smirk on his face, knowing he did that on purpose you lied back down snuggling up to him.

Prosciutto: He was annoyed to say the least when he found the hotel only had a one bed bedroom. He just wanted to sleep after a stressful mission and the same went for you. Once you both cleaned up, prosciutto turned off the lights and laid on the bed telling you to get under the covers. You did so while taking notice that prosciutto was lying as much on the edge of the bed as possible. You quietly told him it was alright to lay on the bed, you didn’t mind but he didn’t respond. When you woke up you felt breath on the back of your neck and a light weight on your hip. It seems prosciutto ended up lying on the bed after all.

Formaggio: You were staying in a hotel for tomorrow’s mission. Formaggio didn’t even ask questions, he just took the room keys and led you to the room. You were shocked that there was only one bed, asking Formaggio if he requested two but he simply shrugged not bothered. He did a little run and jumped onto the bed and claimed a pillow, grabbed the remote and turned the tv on to watch football (European football). You changed into pjs and when you walked out of the bathroom Formaggio gave a low hum on to be met with a glare by you. Laying down in the bed Formaggio got up and stripped to his underwear. You didn’t know what to say, only blushed and hoped the dim light hid it. He continued to watch tv as you drifted to sleep. When you awoke you felt a heavy weight on you and turned around to see Formaggio cuddling you with the blanket at your waists. You tried to squirm away but Formaggio held on tight in his sleep. Deciding it wasn’t so bad you continued to lay there enjoying the moment while you could.

Illuso: after a successful mission and even successful dinner you both went to the hotel. You were off looking at a hotel painting as illuso got the room key. The front desk told him only one bed was available and with a smug smile he accepted it. He had a smile the whole way to the room. When you saw only one bed you expressed your worry but illuso just smiled and said he’d sleep in the mirror world. With that he climbed into the bathroom mirror and you didn’t see him. So you went to bed no worry but late in the night when you were in a deep sleep illuso climbed out of the mirror and crawled into bed with you falling asleep. He woke up before you as he’s an early riser and watched your peaceful face that normally held a glare to him. When you awoke you saw Illuso's chest, looking up his head propped up on one of his hands. Giving you another smug smile and a good morning greeting. A blush on your face berating him on not to do such a thing only to be met with a genuine smile.

Melone: this man called in advance and purposely booked a one bed hotel. Mission was a success but messy. When you got to the room melone nonchalantly expressed how there was only one bed and asked if you’d like to save water by showering together. You simply went into the bathroom and shut the door. When you were done he went to shower. He took a long time so you laid in bed. Half asleep the bed tipped and next thing you know the purple haired man was clinging to you. You tried to push him off but he stuck to you like glue. He was out like a light and didn’t let go so after some time you fell asleep. Waking up he was still clinging to you. Seeing his hair all messy and his calm face was a cute sight. Staying in bed could continue a little while longer.

Pesci: he’s not confrontational so when you get to the hotel room after a long day to find only one bed you both are a blushing mess. He starts rambling how he will sleep on the floor or even in the bathtub. You told him it was alright, just put up a pillow wall. Calling room service to get more pillows and once you got them you made a wall and went to bed. Even with the wall Pesci was shaking with anxiety. You put a hand over the wall to comfort him. Taking some pillows away from the wall by your heads you both faced each other and chatted. Pesci calmed down and you both had a lovely long chat about anything till you fell asleep. When you woke up the wall had fallen a little and saw that you and Pesci were holding hands. He was still asleep and you let him sleep longer.

Ghiacchio: this man was angry when he found only one bed and best of all it was a flustered angry. He stormed to the front desk to get a room with two beds but nope only a one bed bedroom was available. He told you to shower and go to bed. To lessen his anger you did as was told and went to bed. When he crawled in bed he turned his back to you and told you to sleep. You stayed up waiting for him to fall asleep and once he did you cuddled up to his back and held him. When you woke up the next morning ghiaccio had turned around and cuddled you in return. You never knew something so cold could warm you.

[catalinaroleplay]

Gender & Pronouns: Cis woman, she/her

Date of Birth: March 2nd 1992 (29)

Place of Birth: Catalina Island, California

Neighborhood: Avalon

Length of Residency: Native — Returned September 2017

Occupation: Professional Soccer Player and Hostess at Can Boix

Face Claim: Lindsey Morgan

BIOGRAPHY

TRIGGERS: Injury.

Camila Torres was born on Catalina Island in the spring of 1991, around three years after her parents moved from Mexico to the island. Emilia and Ricardo Torres were happily married for three years already when they left their home country behind and moved to Catalina due to the fact that Ricardo Torres was able to take a job there as a head chef at a Spanish restaurant, which would later be changed in 2001 to Can Boix where he still works.

Ever since Camila was little, she can remember waking up in the early hours so she could watch the European football games with her father if the team had to play early. The alarm would be set on the weekends so they could watch the games of FC Barcelona, her father’s favourite team. A football was always close to the girl and from a young age on, she would play football with the boys of the neighbourhood she lived in. She was definitely just as good as them, sometimes even better and she entered a football team on Catalina. Since the club was so tiny, she had to play with the boys and that made her even better. She wasn’t allowed to play official games due to the fact that she would be a girl in a boys competition. But that did not mean that she worked less hard.

From the moment that Camila set her first foot on a football field, she knew that she wanted to do this for her entire life. She wanted to play football as work and she knew that it would be hell to get there. Football in the States was definitely not as big as it was in Europe like she watched so much. It was pure luck that at the age of seventeen an agent of a European top club in England was at one of the training sessions of her local team. They had been in LA to see someone play when - until this day Camila still has no idea how - they heard about a girl who played with older guys and still was as good as them, maybe even better on this island in front of the Californian Coast.

Arsenal expressed interest in bringing her to London and that was like a dream come true to Camila. The team had been champions in England for the women’s teams for seven out of the past eight seasons. Statistically they were the most successful football club in England regarding female football over there. And they wanted to have her in their team. It was a change that Camila could not let go. So at the age of seventeen she left for the capital of England all alone, her father and mother staying behind on Catalina Island.

In London the young girl developed into quite the star on the midfield. The first three seasons were mostly growth but in her fourth and fifth she was the one giving the most assists during the seasons. In her sixth and last season with Arsenal she was well on her way to get that record again but during a game halfway the season she tore a knee ligament. It meant a period of six to nine months away from the pitch, trying to regain her form again and it also meant that Arsenal would not extend her contract. In the end Camila returned to the States where she joined the Utah Royals. Six months after her injury she was able to join the team again - definitely too quickly for her body.

A year later Camila’s career was again plagued with a rather heavy injury and it meant that she was sidelined for another six months again. She returned to Catalina permanently to recover from her injury there. This time she was going to take time to properly heal from the injury. A lot of physical therapy entered her life, learning to walk again and find a new team that would want her where she would be able to finish up her career because she knew that it was impossible for her to go back to the highest level again. It was at this time that the board of the newly formed Angel City FC from Los Angeles requested her services for their debut year in the Women’s League in the States. She was going to be thirty by the time that the team would join the competition in the season of 2022, she would be there to make the young girl learn from the experience that she had, despite it being plagued by injuries. It would give Camila enough time to fully recover from the injury and be ready to start playing again. So she became the first player to be announced for the brand new Los Angeles team.

Camila moved back to Catalina back in September 2017. She moved back in with her parents due to the fact that they would be able to help her during her recovery time as she had to learn how to properly walk again as well. Crutches were her best friends for quite some time. Once able to move again she bought her own place in Avalon and she started to work for the restaurant Can Boix where her father was still working as a hostess which she loved doing as well. She is working hard to get back on top again, following physical therapy a lot, but mostly just enjoying her time back on the island again with her family and friends.

PERSONALITY

Positive: Gentle | Protective | Caring

Negative: Competitive | Distrusting | Chaotic

Camila Torres is portrayed by Myr.

[meerhummal]

No Fans, Empty Stands

Fan’s encouragement affects player performances, every sport is complete with fans, who really make sports mean something

Image via Unsplash

Having an enormous crowd in your support will obviously set you on fire, that’s how important fans are to numerous sports. The noise they create the atmosphere they generate and the coordinated mass mentality of them sometimes is unbelievable, Fans are really crucial part to a football team as Scottish Jock Stein said “Football without fans is noting” is actually a term where a number of players agree with.

Existence of fans change football stadiums into magical places to make the heart sour and also transforms the game. Their engagement, banners, chants, anthems, slogans and reactions to the game truly motivates athletes, In fact players are always prepared to present their best versions in front of them, during a 90 minutes game many ups and downs pass through but fans keep on applauding players in that time, sometimes when the home team is leading and dominating the game it’s really enjoyable for players who try to maintain that rhythm and keep pushing hard to win the game, However if sometimes you’ve conceded a goal and gone behind thinking of a comeback; this is where the fans can raise you up.

A study by the times has shown that home teams score more goals rather than away teams (approximately 37% more) because the home fans expects them to go out and attack and players do fulfil their expectations, Also noted that the referee will probably take decisions in favor of the team who has got a huge and loud crowd backing them. Players always try to find inventive ideas to entertain the audience by showing their agility, magical footwork, spectacular finishing and also “signature moves” after scoring a goal and this is how beautiful football is with fans in the stands.

In an imaginary world the thought is almost impossible for football lovers to watch or play football without fans in a stadium, Meanwhile football associations all around the world had suspended footballing events because of the spread of coronavirus pandemic in Mid-March of 2020, In England all Premier League, EFL, WSL, FAW football and European leagues were postponed till April, in the view of fact that matches played in February and March assisted the spread of COVID-19 as more people contracted coronavirus while attending football matches in stadiums this resulted rise in cases and deaths which later announced utmost caution ought to be applied on reopening of football events, it wasn’t only a peril for fans but players as well in the stadium.

Following stats display the confirmed cases by number of matches played in March:

How pandemic affected football

After a severe first spell of covid-19 football was set to restart in June and all the matches according to the rules and restrictions would be played behind closed doors. It was not what everyone needed but many clubs had already suffered enough financial crisis, a restart was must needed for them but the fans were only bounded to screens and live commentaries to enjoy the relaunch of football.

Coronavirus entirely changed football as new on-pitch rules were applied to the resumption such as 5 substitutions during 90 minutes, no handshakes neither hugs before and after the game, no spitting anywhere, football being sanitized and players weren’t allowed to exchange jerseys after 90 minutes. That’s not it! Rules were also applied off the pitch for players and management like social distancing inside dressing rooms and on benches, sitting in the kit-rooms and on the benches with facemasks on, pre-game and post-match interviews were managed with pyle microphone pole, minimize close contact between all people during pre-match warm-ups and less interaction with match officials and away team players after the game.

It made viewers feel something tedious about the game; things were missing in those 90 minutes, goal celebrations were limited to smiles, usual fist or elbow bumps, fingers pointing sky, knee slides and thumbs-up from face masked substitutes to whoop it up.

Playing without Fans

Image via Las Angeles Times

Crowdless games make you feel like watching training or a showmatch in ground with clear noises of players interacting and guiding each other though “Performing” might be difficult for lads without hearing the roar of thousand fans on first whistle and no one in stands to boost player’s energy in last quarter of the game they have to be self-motivated throughout the game. Football pundits also claim that dearth of fans in stadium might affect player’s focus and even efforts during the game, but yet there are few benefits for players while having no fans around them such as less fear of lose mainly playing in front of public which might help them to play a bit relax because those hundreds of eyes won’t be watching them, it is also helpful for defenders if their team conceded a goal because of a tactical mistake.

The atmosphere when players walk out of the tunnel hanging high-fives of fans for players, emerging colorful smoke and flares in stands, raining splashing beer when goal has been scored, hugging strangers in jollity, jumping on seats, exchanging crisp high-fives between fans was absent somewhere in that adversity. As Chelsea striker Olivier Giroud told ESPN. "It is really strange at first, and then you try to get used to it. It has less charm to play with no fans. Also, the pitch feels much bigger with no fans in the stadium! It is crazy to say because it is the same pitch, but it does feel bigger! But at least the managers are happy because now we can hear easily everything they tell us, even when they don't shout!

It was actually difficult to judge how good the game was with no noise you dribble pass two defenders and produce a wonderful pass, hit the crossbar or score a stunner but it feels like nothing happened! An awkward silence all over the stadium and this is the moment where you realize how vital the presence of fans is.

Watching El Clasico, London derbies, Merseyside derby, rivalries and Champions league football without fans nearly made football lovers cry, recently witnessing the GOAT’s of football Lionel Messi and Cristiano Ronaldo competing each other in Champions league after a long period since CR7 left Spanish football (La Liga) was held behind closed doors as well.

Virtual Crowd

Image via gettyimages

After attempts of bringing fans back the governing bodies realized it is a pure danger of contracting the virus again. Here! The idea of fake fans (virtual crowd) was brought in, the art of virtual crowd was landed to upgrade watching experiences for viewers watching from screens and sound option with slogans and continuous buzzing noise which might work for players too.

The British and German broadcasters were first to try it out, the auto made reactions at the key moments of match was just a try to give it an original feel. Fan’s faces on the cardboard cut outs were also previewed, fans were allowed to purchase cardboards and upload their pictures on it through this the stands were filled once again but this time with immobilized fans.

Financial crisis of Football Clubs

Every day passed without fans this season football leagues lost more than a hundred millions resulting damage to both local and national economy, this also affects the employment prospect as hundred thousand plus employer’s duties rely on matchday activities.

Financial troubles to any club is a worst nightmare for its supporters. Due to the outbreak fans weren’t allowed to visit stadiums which clarifies that no amount earned through parking tickets, food and merchandise, additionally no revenue generated from inside stadium sponsorships.

Top flight football club Arsenal has also struggled monetarily firing around 150 staff members during the hard time of pandemic the club was able to pull through and continue because of the sponsorships they had, and many other big names as well handle it with pay cuts of player’s salary.

Houseful stadiums again?

Image via ecnmy.org

After all tough periods in nine months, players and viewers were desperate to see spectators coming back in the stands to cheer respective teams, it means alike victory for government’s fight against coronavirus, although due to the restrictions all football clubs weren’t allowed to bring fans back but some major teams were fortunate enough to have loving fans back.

According to the orders only 2000 spectators were allowed to attend games inside of stadiums, which was on “first come, first served” criteria, covering more than a half of the capacity of stadium.

Fans still have to obey the rules given by the government: Facemasks must be worn while whirling around but not on seats, No away team supporters were allowed, Sanitizing at stations inside the ground, Singing and chanting was allowed but no physical contact, fans cannot confront, social distancing while sitting on seats and strict stewards to look after the fans whoever breaks any rule will be thrown out.

This is for sure the beginning to fill the stands with crowd and catch the joy back once again, at least now when the ball hits the post the crowd reactions will be at that moment, not after few seconds like virtual technology used to have. Through all this situations one thing displayed clearly that how much you train or build yourself, “You still need cheers or people backing you to hit the stage with an astonishing performance”.

[welcometoitalia]

21 Cultural Pointers about Life in Italy

1) TIME: Kick off your shoes, throw away your watch... everything is relative. Whilst much has improved in recent years, trains, buses and people tend to work on an "approximate" timetable. Learn patience and go with the flow.

2) LANGUAGE: Other than in Northern Europe, English is not as widely learnt and used in Italy. Until recently, French was promoted above English. Italians suffer from a sort of language inferiority complex so that even those who do speak good English are convinced that they do not and therefore only speak when absolutely necessary. A common mistake in listening to an Italian speaking his mother tongue is to assume that they are angry or excited. This is not always the case as you may witness in seeing two Italians "argue" and then kiss each other on both cheeks and disappear for an Aperitivo (pre-dinner drink).

3) NATIONALISM: As reflected in regional dialects, modern Italy was actually only unified in the mid 1800's. Still today, great divisions exist between North and South. This means that culture, traditions and life style vary significantly between the various provinces. True allegiance is to the local town or province and less to Italy as a whole. If you want to compliment an Italian, remark kindly on his home town.

4) POLITICS: Often called "the Politics of Favors", politicians don't fade away, they just become prime minister for the 10th time! Bringing down Government is a national pastime, averaging nearly one government for every year since World War 2. Reflecting the national divide, Italy has a strong ex-communist and a strong ex-fascist block. Most Italians believe the country is successful despite the best efforts of the government; tax avoidance is another national obsession. One of Italy's stronger parties is dedicated to the break up of Italy. Lega Nord (Free the North) has a passionate following - in the north! To mis-quote Beppe Grillo, a famous Italian commentator: “One Italian makes a Latin lover, two together can never agree, whilst three make up four political parties.”

5) DRINK: Italian bars often double up as coffee shops as there is a much more limited drinking culture than in other European locales. Italians on the whole do not have a "drinking culture"; many bars reflect this less intense relationship with alcohol, although the club scene is more "traditional" in its appeal. Wine is often less expensive than bottled water and whilst a staple feature of Italian meals, it is very rarely drunk to excess.

6) FAMILIES: Careful of stereotypes but, whilst waning, the family is central to everything and all. It is normal for unmarried children to live at home, even if they are in their 30's and 40's. Children move away... to the house next door! ;) ... and shouting between balconies to borrow some sugar is common. The grandmother plays the role of matriarch and family members like to turn up for a meal and are gladly received.

7) RELIGION: Catholic, of course (about 90%). Strangely though, Italy now has one of the lowest birth rates in Europe, So called Mafia bosses may fastidiously attend church on Sunday and married Catholic men may happily have an “amante” (lover). Many Catholics are uncertain if they are Christians as well as Catholic, such is the hold and “brand” strength of the Catholic church. Church attendances are, however, in decline and the number of new priests has declined by 85% in the last 50 years.

8) SPORT: One thing all Italians agree on is the national football/soccer team, often referred to as Italy's "true" religion. When Italy won the World Cup, people took to the streets in their cars, blowing horns, standing on car roofs and the entire nations transport system ground to a halt for hours as Italians demonstrated their passion for the game. Other sports take a back seat although cycling, volleyball, skiing and Formula One have their place on the front pages. One of the largest selling national newspapers is entirely dedicated to sport (LaGazetta dello sport).

9) WORLD AFFAIRS: Not our affair... so who cares, right? 

10) FOREIGNERS: In most cases are greeted with enthusiasm and delight, although heavy non-European immigration has started to create phobia and resentment of the non European invasion in recent years.

11) FOOD: Italians are passionate about... Italian food! So much so that even when abroad, many Italians will go out of their way to seek out the nearest Italian restaurant. Each region of Italy has its own "local dish" and each dish may be prepared in a different way according to local custom. A wedding meal may last more than 6 hours and feature up to 20 courses. Such is the strength of Italian food that finding a Chinese, Mexican, or other type of restaurant outside the big towns is a challenge.

12) DRIVING: The Italian zest for life is well reflected in the Italian driving style! Cars are viewed as a status symbol; Italy has one of the highest percentages of Mercedes owners in the world. Speed limits, like train schedules, are considered approximations. Recent clamp downs and a new point system is beginning to dampen this zest and the best advise for foreign drivers is not to panic if a car cuts in, speeds by, or tailgates you. Don't worry, they have had lots of practice and are very good at it!

13) QUEING: Or lines. Until recently, the concept was an enigma for Italians. The advent of supermarket deli ticket lines and other such devices are being readily adopted and even when no line exists, Italians appear to have an uncanny sense of when it's their turn.

14) GREETING: Even vaguely familiar acquaintances will kiss each other on each cheek, but a hand shake will suffice. “Buongiorno” (formal) and “Ciao” (informal) being the classic accompaniment, followed by "come stai?" - the (informal) “how are you?”. In English-speaking countries, it's normal to reply "fine, thank you" even if you feel awful, in Italy they may well tell you how they actually are! Failure to greet or say goodbye to somebody can be taken as an insult.

15) FASHION: Italians will generally conform to the latest fashion trends, colors and styles, indeed foreigners can easily be spotted, even in a crowd, as they often do not conform to this hidden code. Italians take pride in their dress and are much more brand-conscious than some other nationalities.

16) BUSINESS: Italians prefer to do business with those they know and trust (hence, the relatively low success of Internet companies). Unlike some other industrialized powers, the back bone of the Italian economy is based on people, not multinationals. This is reflected in the proportionally high level of family businesses. Even large Italian businesses are often originated, directed or owned by a family (Benetton, Fiat etc). The local family shop concept still prevails, even though supermarkets are beginning to change the fabric of shopping.

17) PLANNING: Whilst many Northern Europeans are busy planning their next summer holiday in September the year before, summer holiday catalogs in Italy are not even printed till March! Planning ahead is considered restrictive and often Italians will decide what to do for the weekend on Saturday morning. Don't try and force Italians to plan, or expect next seasons bus timetable to be published months before. 

18) EUROPEAN: Italy is a great believer in “voting European”, agreeing to many issues and then simply not implementing the directive. Italians themselves see Europe as an escape clause from their own government's perceived incompetence and corruption, however when put to the test, Italians in reality dislike anybody who tells them how to live their lives. Most Italians were enthusiastic about the Euro, until they found that most shop keepers used it to increase prices twofold.

19) HUMOR: Warning: “Sarcasm is not defined”. Do not try sarcastic or ironic jokes on Italians, many will think you are serious. Humor is a lot more lighthearted and obvious (Benny Hill was a big hit) and Italians are not afraid to make fun of themselves. The famous Oscar-winning actor and comic Roberto Benigni once remarked: “If the Berlin wall had been built by Italians, it would have come down on its own.” The prime-time nightly comedy program “Striscia la Notizia” goes out of its way to poke holes and find humor in Italian news and politics. Few Italian comedies work well when translated but have an avid following in Italy itself.

20) TELEVISION: Italians love game shows and reality TV (Big Brother is a yearly event). Like Italian fashion, brand names are important. The host's "brand" is critical and what he or she wears is critically examined. Nearly all shows feature "dancers or assistents", nearly always women, and nearly always clad in mini skirts and revealing tops. Where other countries would cry foul, Italians revel in the female form and are happy to have it presented to them as often as possible, even when totally irrelevant to the show.

21) HOTELS: Contrary to popular belief there is no unified star rating system in Europe. Each country provides its own system. A hotel's ambience is not assessed in any system, only facilities. In Italy, a 3-star hotel will have a restaurant, on-suite bathroom, bar, and lounge area. Room sizes in Italy are below the European average, mainly because many hotels are converted residences. Most hotels are family-run with attentive, very friendly service and homecooked meals. It is not unusual for the grandparents to take over responsibilites when the owner is away or to be greeted during school holidays by the 14 year old son (who probably speaks better English than the parents). This family atmosphere is one of the charms of smaller Italian hotels.

Oh, and one last warning: be careful of the stereotypes. Whilst you can always draw a thread (or even a rope) of similarity (as above) between the nationals of a country, the extent and size of the thread can vary.

Edited and adjusted from an article by A. Reed, a Brit in Brescia, Italy

[unearthitaly]

ITALY FROM A TO Z - A Review -

This past year I’ve been sharing an Italian word beginning with every letter of the alphabet and giving a bit of cultural context, which is always useful in order to implement the vocabulary when learning a new language.

Here’s a review (check the linked posts for more info):

A for AMERICANATA: “Americanata” [ fem.noun, pl.form “americanate”] is a word used by Italians to underline an action, a thing, a behaviour which is judged kitsch and characterized by delusions of grandeur, considered typical of the American demeanor [American intended as “citizen of the USA”]. - More info here;

B for BACIAPILE: “Baciapile” is a  word used to indicate those people who are, apparently, very pious, because they always go to the Mass, but that, in the end, do not follow the Christian precept of love for the others. It is believed that, for them, the Mass is just means to appear good in public. - More info here;

C for CONTRAFFAZIONE: [La] Contraffazione [-i] means forgery/counterfeiting. It can be used especially when talking about counterfeit money, but not only.In Italy we use an expression to indicate a kind of forgery made abroad against Italy and the so-called “made in Italy” which employs this noun. It’s “contraffazione alimentare” ( “food counterfeiting”) - More info here;

D for DIVORZIO: [ Il ] Divorzio [pl.form “i divorzi”] means divorce. In Italy it was legally introduced in 1970, but given that not all agreed on it in the Parliament, they decided to organize a referendum to see if people wanted this new law. The majority of Italians voted yes to the divorce law during the referendum held in 1974. The word “divorzio” became known worldwide even before it was legal in Italy, thanks to the 1962 movie “Divorzio all'Italiana” (“Divorce Italian Style”) by Pietro Germi - More info here;

E for EDICOLA: [L’] edicola [pl.form: le edicole]. It can have different meanings. At first edicole were small temples, In a second moment they became niches located inside the temples, meant to contain the statues of the deities. In modern times we indicate with the noun “edicole” the newsstands. - More info here;

F for FARO: [ Il ] Faro [pl.form: i fari ] means lighthouse, but also headlight. This noun derives from the name of the small island ’pharos’, located in front of Alexandria and where there was the biggest lighthouse of the ancient times and considered one of the 7 Wonders of the World - More info here;

G for GALLO/GALLINA: [Il] Gallo [pl.form: i galli] means rooster and [La] Gallina [pl.form: le galline] hen.The “realm” of the henhouse has always been used as a metaphor of the society in the Italian Culture. Check the post to see the countless idioms where gallo and gallina are used in Italian idioms;

H for HOTEL: The word hotel is clearly a loan word according to Italians, because in our language we don’t really have many words beginning with “h”. It’s indeed a French word. What many of us ignore, though, is that the French word derives from the Latin term “hospitale” [hosting place].What you might find peculiar in Italy is finding certain kinds of hotels which are not to be found or are not popular outside the Belpaese. Check the post to discover more about them;

I for ITALIANIZZAZIONE: [L’] Italianizzazione [fem.noun], meaning “Italianization”, is the spreading of the Italian Culture,  people or language which can happen through integration or assimilation.When we use this term, though, we specifically point out  that specific forced policy carried out by the Fascist dictatorship in  the African colonies, in the European territories annexed during WWII  and  in the Italian areas populated by linguistic minorities ( South Tyrol, Venezia Giulia, Aosta Valley, the Asiago Plateau etc.) Foreign languages and press were prohibited, foreign-sounding surnames and toponymy   translated and foreign schools suppressed. - More info here;

J for JUVENTUS: [ La ] Juventus ( = Juventus Football Club ). We don’t have many words beginning with J in Italian and Juventus is probably the most famous. - More info here;

K for K2: K2 [ Italian pronunciation: “kappa due” ] is the second highest mountain in the world and it’s located in the Karakoram range, on the border between China and Pakistan. What has Italy to do with Pakistan and the K2 ? Well, it was an Italian expedition that first climbed the mountain on 31.July 1954. After the war, a great venture was believed to be necessary “to lift the country’s mood” and the attempt to the second highest, but most difficult mountain to climb, seemed like a great opportunity. - More info here;

L for LIBERAZIONE: [La] Liberazione [pl.form: le liberazioni]. As its English translation “liberation”, it’s the action of setting someone free from imprisonment, slavery  or oppression. In Italian Culture we use the term “liberazione” to indicate the 25th April, the so-called “Giorno della Liberazione”, Day of Liberation. - More info here;

M for MEDIOEVO: [ Il ] Medioevo means “Middle Ages” and, as you know, it’s the historical period that goes from the 476 aC (the fall of the Roman Empire) to 1492 aC (the discovery of America). What you might don’t know is that, nowadays, in #Italy we still use some idioms “invented” in the Middle Ages. Check them out here;

N for NOZZE: [Le] Nozze [plural] is the Italian translation for “nuptials”. A synonym is “matrimonio” (which is not formal like its English counterpart “matrimony”). Not many know, though, that the words nozze/nuptials take their name from the bride’s veil. The Latin naptiae derived indeed from nubere= “to veil”, which then became “to marry”. - More info here;

O for ORO: [ L’ ] Oro [masc.noun] is Italian word for gold. As you probably know Italy does well in the production and trade of luxury items and it’s actually the first country for the number of firms operating in this branch. The gold industry is obviously one of them. We have three important “gold districts” in Italy which are those of: Valenza Po in Piedmont; Arezzo in Tuscany; Vicenza in Veneto. - More info here;

P for PREVISIONE: [La] Previsione [pl.form: le previsioni] means “prevision”, “prediction”. This word in Italy is mostly used in association with “tempo” to form the expression “previsioni del tempo”, which are the weather forecasts. - More info here;

Q for QUOTIDIANO: [Il] Quotidiano is a useful word that can have different meanings. ⚡It is usually translated as “daily”, but it can also be used as a noun to indicate the daily routine. It is also used to indicate the daily newspaper. - More info here;

R for RECITAZIONE: [ La ] Recitazione is “acting” in Italian language. Italians, often described as quite “creative” and “artistic”, are known for being naturally talented actors. There’s even a famous quotation by Orson Welles that stated that Italy was populated by 50 millions actors and the worst were those on stage, lol. - More info here;

S for SAVOIARDO: [Il] Savoiardo [pl.form: i savoiardi]. The savoiardi, known in English as “lady fingers”, are the biscuits used for the preparation of the tiramisù. - More info here;

T for TERREMOTO: [Il] terremoto [ pl.form: i terremoti ] means earthquake and, sadly, it’s a word which we happen to use a lot in Italy. - More info here;

U for UMORISMO: [ L’ ] Umorismo is “humour” in Italian. People’s ability to comprehend and appreciate humour largely depends on a host variables like one’s culture, education and even intelligence. Another factor is, surely, the geographical location and, in a place like Italy, could a thing not vary according to the region or town? Obviously not! Check which are the most famous kinds of Italian humour that we have in this post ;

V for VULCANO: [Il] Vulcano [ pl.form: i vulcani] is volcano in English. Italy is one of the countries with the highest number of volcanos in Europe. “Vulcano” is even the name of a proper volcano and of the island where it is located (which belongs to the Aeolian archipelago in Sicily). - More info here;

LETTER W: Even though in Italian the letter W is not considered part of the alphabet, the character has a symbolic meaning. W stands for “evviva” or “viva”, which mean “hooray for”. We have also the counterpart which is a W positioned upside down that stands for “abbasso” and means “down with”. - More info here;

X for XYLELLA: Xylella is a term that, sadly, has become popular in the recent years, especially in Apulia. It’s an aerobic bacterium that causes various diseases in plants. In Italy it has attacked olive trees in the Salento area in Apulia causing the olive quick decline syndrome. - More info here;

Y for YODEL: [Lo] Yodel - also known as jodel - is a type of rural song that involves repeated and rapid changes of pitch between the so-called “chest voice” and the high-pitch head register or falsetto. It was born in the area of the Central Alps as it was used by the hearders to call their stock or to communicate with other Alpine villages. In Italy it is present in South Tyrol given its cultural heritage. - More info here;

Z for ZAMPILLO: [Lo] zampillo [ pl.form: gli zampilli]. It’s often translated as “gush” and it’s used to indicate, indeed, a small gushing of water or blood. - More info here.

[toddlazarski]

The Best Bites of 2019

Shepherd Express

2019. The year before, hopefully. The prologue to 2020’s change, maybe. God or Kali or whomever you wish to charge with these sorts of responsibilities, willing. The end of the beginning of the end of discord, the endless fire, the storms and dread, the corruption of soul we’ve all learned to live with over the past few years that feel like a lifetime.

In Milwaukee, 2019 was the year we were rewarded the Democratic National Convention, and the year we immediately tried to grapple with how we would handle hosting the Democratic National Convention. It was the year, as if we were Austin, as if we were Portland, as if we were ourselves a plucky place of progressivism and forward-thinking, our very own food truck park opened. And, at the same time, it was the year it became impossible to log onto any social media without being inundated by hems and haws and shouting-at-cloud mewls that the city suddenly had legal electric scooters on the street. It was the year Syrian civil war refugees opened a Mitchell Street gem of kefta and baba ghanoush and good nature at the most destination-worthy restaurant in town. And it was the year a racially-charged acid attack occurred against a Latino man entering a southside taqueria. It was the year Sherman Phoenix rose, literally, out of the ashes of the 2016 Sherman Park riots. An opening that barely preceded Milwaukee becoming the first city to name racism a public health crisis.        

For me, calorically, it was also a calendar stretch of one step up and one back. It was a time of too many fancy burgers, of swearing off fancy burgers, and then reading about The Diplomat’s Diplomac, and then the Birch & Butcher happy hour special, and then the other one with the ampersand (Glass & Griddle). It was the time of swearing off meat entirely, tempering that to limiting meat, trying to go “Impossible” meat, then realizing my daughter had never been to Sobelman’s. A frigid Monday, empty dining room, impossibly cheery waitress and a jalapeno and three cheese-smashed double patty was all that it took to fall back off the wagon. Or is it on the wagon? Either way, it was also the summer that felt like I spent half of, at least, inside a car with intermittently functioning AC, pit-sweating, contemplating which tiny to-go plastic container of bright green or dark red or burnt orange sauce to douse on yet another pastor taco. I ate at every taco truck in the city in ‘19, or tried, or got close, maybe. Out of curiosity. Out of assignment. But as much so out of moral obligation, as some kind of personal corrector to the current tenor of division, of strife, of unease. And as a reminder of comfort, of the spicy, dangerous, gaseous whiff of hope.  

Here are some of the other ways I’ll remember ‘19.    

13. Italian Beef - Rosati’s

I grew up in the hyper-regionally-specific sandwich heaven of Buffalo, NY. There a “beef on weck” order from near any corner bar or grocer or butcher will yield a horseradish-spiked roast beef stack piled within a crusty German baker concoction known as a kimmelweck—a roll topped with caraway seeds and coarse salt grains of the likes you might use on your sidewalk in February. Whether it’s a little bit drippy or dry, it will likely singe sinuses, bloviate with beefiness, finish with unnecessary and addictively enjoyable sodium-ness. Everywhere that isn’t there, you can find Western New York ex-pats gathered in some corner of some bar, Bills hatted, commiserating, whispering of favorites from places with foreign-sounding names like Schwabl’s, bemoaning the wonder of why it’s so hard. But there’s a difference between hard and unknown. 

Here, Chicago’s Italian beef is another simple, but under-served regional sandwich delicacy. Offering even an apt representation of the au-jus-dripping bombs that can be found on every other corner in our big city neighbor to the south would be itself somehow singular. Rosati’s is a Chicago chain that serves just such a purpose. 

Of course, aesthetically or on paper, there’s not much list-worthy about a soaked Italian hoagie roll, barely holding it’s earthy contents, leaking greasy debris all over wax paper like it was an old Saab who’s main attribute was character. But then you get closer: it’s a living sandwich form of a closeup on an Arby’s commercial, with infinite folds of beef wedged like an overfull linen closet, so bursting with folded towels you’re afraid to open the door. The thin rug of plasticky, half-melted mozz is optional. Though the glossy, shimmering hot giardiniera should be mandatory, with its oil-slickening and bright, peppy pickled punch.   

But this is still a package of lizard brain enjoyment, of Ditka-esque machismo, with an essence and soul that is all two-fisted, garclicky pigout. It’s the perfect brown meal when you’ve had too many, when it’s too cold, when football is on, when it is followed by a slice of either thin or deep dish—both also apt Chicago representations here. Enjoy life and don’t be ashamed. You can love an Italian beef and still, later, after you swallow, sing along to “the Bears still suck.” 

12. Sloppy Johnny - Boo Boo’s

A 6-buck price tag and a name that harkens cafeteria appetites and Adam Sandler jams doesn’t really inspire notions of much other than a nostalgic budget lunch.    

But then you see one on the table in front of you, alongside the inspired rotating roster of obscure hot sauce bottles, and ideally next to a steaming bowl of creamy onion-cheddar soup. The sandwich, which derives from a New York City bodega specialty known as a chopped cheese, comes in a fresh-baked, beautiful baguette—crusty outside, pillowy inside—which houses barely visible meat, all the scrags seductively tucked under blankety rivulets of piping white cheddar and pickled peppers and rumors of mushrooms. While I used to come to this address for whiz-spattered ribeye, the Johnny is a bit perplexing in its polish. It is fat guy food all cleaned up, as button-down and put-together a presentation of chopped beef indulgence as might exist in town. 

Giving the flat-topped package a second to cool off is the only challenge. Along with the lack of alcohol to wash it down, or assuage said wait. But there seems to be no other shortcomings to the lunch, or anything about the quirky, aggressively friendly spot that replaced and immediately made us all forget the Walker’s Point Philly Way. The sister biz of nextdoor Soup Brothers, Boo Boo’s shows the Milwaukee Soup Nazi’s comfort food flavor rigor and peculiar touch extends neatly to the realm of sandwiches. 

11. Carbonara - Zarletti

It’s hard to balance summer in Milwaukee. There’s an at-once need to makeup for six months of living in a place where it hurts your lungs to breath natural air with an overwhelming roster of stuff to do. Of stuff to do outside. One solution might be doing something of calendar noteworthiness with a level of relaxed removal. For me I’ve found an annual tradition of attending Bastille Days’ nighttime 5K. Yet instead of stretching and putting on too-short shorts, I park myself at a table on Milwaukee Street, sip a Negroni, spoon roasted lamb and perperonata onto charry bread, and await a big, hearty pasta while watching the more ambitious sweatily charge toward a finish line and away from their true appetites.  

Zarletti’s sidewalk cafe on a summer night can feel very European, very sophisticated, well-heeled. But the carbonara is at it’s core quite basic. Yes, it is the embodiment of those aspects of Roman food anyone recently back from the Old Country will annoy listeners with: simplicity, freshness. Egg, Pecorino Romano, garlic, onion. Here too there is a vomitorium-like abundance of sauteed pancetta. And a reminder of how that perfect deep bowl of al dente can somehow hit all the comfort points of all the different life epochs: childhood mac n’ cheesiness, first apartment spaghetti nights, that trip to Italy. And now, in the night’s growing darkness and fanfare, it’s a special new tradition to feel apart from the race, and part of a different one—finishing every last salty morsel of piggy meat before my stomach says to stop.

10. Tacos de carbon, desebrada, chorizo, pescado - El Tsunami

I’m not entirely sure the silky, sour creamy, Serrano-based light green emulsified salsa found about so many southside taquerias is homemade—such is the ubiquity. And, at this point in our relationship, I’ve gone too far to ask. So, I will continue to happily, ignorantly, scoop and spurt over every possible meatstuff served between National and the Airport, from 35th to the Lake.  

Of these, the fare at El Tsunami holds a special sort of siren song sway, pulling me past La Canoa, away from my beloved Chicken Palace. In fact, of the two locations of Tsunami, this is the one without alcohol. And the fact it is still somehow preferred should be all the endorsement necessary. The petite counter-focused diner always feels like a happier, spicier Edward Hopper vision, especially with snow falling and cozy smoke plumes billowing about from the flattop that seems to be always full of approaching-happy meat. 

In taco form, an order of carbon yields smoky, charcoal-forward, tiny-diced and juice-spurting nodules. The desebrada is a chocolatey, shreddy deep-stewed beef, with the depth and earthiness of the kind of thing grandma might cook when it’s cold out, when she hasn’t seen you in a while, when she got up real early, even by her standards, to start. The chorizo balances salty, greasy, satisfying pork bombast with foodie subtlety—what is that? Cinnamon? The pescado makes fish fries seem benign, lacking abundantly in tortillas and salsa. 

There are other routes—the diablo sauce, a color only seen in dangerously fast and tiny sports cars, is a special coat for any fish dish. But it is the tacos, cilantro-y and satisfying, that remain the supreme vessel for green salsa dousing. And, either way, I’m leaving with some to go: a few containers of verde, just enough to carry a little Tsunami with me back home, to the fridge, enough to pull me through the far too many non-taqueria meals of life. 

9. Any pizza - San Giorgio

Maybe it’s because I’m not a car guy, and get no thrill from “peeking under the hood,” and not enough of a cook to have much interest in “seeing how the sausage is made,” but I’ve never cared a great deal about the concept of “open kitchen.” They wear aprons, can handle industrial-grade pans, are comfortable working close to a flame—I get it.   

But then I found myself for the first time at San Giorgio’s “pizza bar,” contemplating how beautiful a concept, how perfect a term, when I heard one pizzaiolo, upset about peel placement or arugula quantity or something or another say to the other, “I’ll kill you.” Huh, I thought. They really care. 

While few inside the scene seem to put any stock in the VPN certification (the official delegation delineating true Neopolitan style pizza, regulating everything from oven type, to temp, to how much your dough balls must weigh—yes, it’s a bit ridiculous, and, yes, it’s a cost), all aspects of the pizza pedigree of San Giorgio show just such immense, aggressive, sure, threatening, pursuit of craft. In the Sopranos sense of the word, all ingredients, all dishes, seem to be worthy of respect. 

Try the Quattro Formaggi, a delightfully oily meld of mozz, provola, fontina, and gorgonzola. Or the San Giorgio, bright with arugula and fennel, salty with crispy pancetta, topped, almost unnecessarily, somehow cohesively, with a sunny side egg. Pay plenty of appropriate focus on anything featuring San Marzano tomato carnage. As a gravy it goes well with anything from basil to spicy soppersata. As Instagrammable goopage, it is bright and popping, with no need of a filter, reminiscent of all things you picture of Italy in your mind.   

It all still ties back to the beating heart. And by that, I mean the 900 degree Stefano Ferraro oven, hand-crafted, of course, in Italy. It is a muscular, room-dominating hulk, a ravishing blue-tiled beauty, fire-kissing, turning doughiness halfway to toast, letting the Maillard Effect do its enzyme action work, warming, blackening, making a messy marriage of tomato and cheese. Airy corpuscles form around the crust edge, yielding heartening bites of carb char. It is quick cooking, piping hot delivery for all satisfaction points. What pizza was for us as children, pizza can be for us again, here, downtown on a classy wine-soaked date night or pre-Giannis show.  

On subsequent visits I’ve found myself, while pulling away the first slice, lifting the edge and checking  the undercarriage to admire the cooking and note the sweet char. Each pizza pattern is unique from the last, like the spots on a Jaguar. So, maybe I am into looking under the hood afterall.   

 8. Burger - Foxfire

The last thing anyone needs from the internet is another burger list. Or even a list with burgers on them, ranked, in some kind of personal application of rules and regulations that strives toward objectivity, scientific method, a justification of juiciness pontificating. 

Yet, in 2019 arriving on a listicle is the only validation. And the burger at Foxfire, served Thursday’s out of the back of Hawthorne Coffee, deserves to make listicles that aren’t even covering burgers. So, while Palomino griddles the best sit-down double-digit-dollar burger in town, and Kopp’s remains the heavyweight of gluttonous eat-in-your-car, American Graffitti old-school comfort and mouthfeel joy, Foxfire strikes the perfect balance between craft and simple. The double patty package is reasonably affordable, is cooked basically to temp, is coated with unfussy American cheese. But the availability is limited, enticingly so. It is topped with only pickle and onion. But the counter is suggestively stacked with esoteric hot sauces. It is what to have for workday lunch, generally, in a coffee shop. But the meat crust and luscious give are worthy of foodie discourse, elevated terms like elevated. The duality in a microcosm: the fries here are reminiscent of the stringy, crispy spuds found at McDonald’s; but they can be topped with little-seen Aleppo pepper.    

My grandfather used to say that it is impossible to declare a “best,” that such distinction has to be qualified. He lived in the innocent era before internet lists. And, unfortunately, before being able to try the burger at Foxfire.  

7. Chicken 65 and Garlic Naan - Cafe India

My wife often jokes that I only want to eat food in taco form. And they say all good jokes are based in truth. So it came in handy that my natural instinct for bread-as-vessel kicked in when, aggressively, irresponsibly, I ordered my Chicken 65 “extra hot” at the Bay View Cafe India. Within two fork bites it became clear something, anything, more than water, was needed to extinguish, to buffer, to assuage boiling buds. Garlic naan was handy, was originally used like a starchy tongue sponge, and then, somehow inspired, I packaged all subsequent chicken bites within the cozy, garlicky, craggy confines of the bendable bread. Thus my version of Indian tacos was born. Built out of necessity, maintained out of deliciousness.   

The Chicken 65 has long been my Indian deep-menu go-to. Huge-bite, deep-fried chunks of tender boneless chicken, bathing in fiery, oily, red-orange stew chocked with hunks of pepper and onion and curry leaf. With its shimmering finish and intense afterburn, it’s a dish that often feels like a turmeric-laced Southern Indian version of Nashville chicken. 

Apparently nobody really knows where the dish name came from—some claim the number just refers to the birth year. Others, to either the number of chile peppers or the number of pieces of chicken. It doesn’t matter, historians likely have just had too difficult a time stopping eating, or slurping water, or fanning the mouth. But now at least we all have documentation of the dawn of the Chicken 65 taco.   

6. Chicken Shawarma, Kufta Kabob Sandwich - Pita Palace

Sometimes go-to’s are made by convenience, sometime laziness, maybe it's economics, every now and then it just comes from plain exceptional, ceaseless taste, of the kind you never tire of, week after week, appetite after appetite. When I became Iucky enough to stumble into a house purchase a pita toss from this sprawling Layton Ave chateau of Mediterranean comfort food, the “go-to” calculus began to spin endlessly, like a slowly turning vertical rotisserie.   

From hummus to arayes to lentil soup, all of the counter service spot’s dishes ring true. But it’s the sandwich section that brings me back, never wears out, with cheap, voluminous meat torpedos nestled inside tender, stretchy shrak bread. They are made of tight, but ambitious construction, braced by pickle buttons, onion and tomato wedges. The chicken yields variable cubes and scrags of spitted meat, some crisp, some soft, velvety garlic sauce making the bundle swim, sing. Or there is the kufta kabob, two skewers-worth of beefy, grainy-textured links, slicked with creamy tahini, the whole deal rife with mint, parsley, sumac, and the kind of otherworldliness that you watch Bourdain for a taste of. Kick either up with a side of the piercing, pungent Thai chile garlic sauce, a sauce with a confrontationally acidic spice profile, a flavor reminiscent of little else at all, just this side of a manageable amount of mother-in-law spleen.  

It’s the kind of place you spot from the air on approaches back to General Mitchell, a giant red neon glow of ‘Welcome Home;’ the kind of place your realtor might not mention, but you find it and know your property values will sustain, that it will also salve rote Mondays of yawns and kitchen ennui for years to come. It’s the kind of place you are endlessly happy to live near by, for when you don’t know what to cook, or, really, even when you do.  

5. Xiao Long Bao Dumplings - Momo Mee

“Eat with care” the menu warns, an enticing challenge, like something you might find on a waiver from a restaurant you learned of from “Man vs. Food.” To me it reminds of an internet-learning wormhole of food blogs and Youtubes on where to find the Shanghai delicacy in a back alley shop in Chicago’s Chinatown. And then, more challengingly, more importantly, how to actually eat a dumpling filled with soup. As an experienced Xiao Long Bao taster—twice—I can state the process is mostly so: Put a drop of soy sauce in your soup spoon, lift the dumpling from the top, place in the spoon, nibble a tiny hole in the top as a steam valve, slurp some broth out, and then, when the temp feels right, shoot it like an oyster. Then you sit back and feel worldly, self-satisfied, sated. 

But as long as you don’t puncture and spurt, or, really, as long as you “eat with care,” you are bound to end up happy, letting umami zest and warm salty pork wedges in hand-crafted dough baste the tongue. The disparity of eating this, here, in the base level of a building seemingly still warm from the factory, hits with the arrival of the steaming bamboo basket. Or, really,  with the Schezuan wontons, or the Cantonese claypots—anything you can order amidst the plasticizing Walker’s Point condo sprawl. As the neighborhood loses its soul, it’s character, one more hastily constructed Millennial molehill at a time, Momo Mee more than holds the line.   

4. Alambre - La Flamita

Certainly one of the buzziest events in town this winter would have to be a recent Ash Kitchen takeover, featuring James Beard-nominated Minnesota chef Jorge Guzman. The spot, an open hearth concept from Dan Jacobs and Dan Van Rite, is the new restaurant of the Iron Horse Hotel. The event spotlighted Mexican street food. Yes, at one of the priciest hotels in town. Black beans were $6; rice, a cool $5. And while probably delicious, probably well-intentioned, it sounds a bit like paying Fiserv prices to see a really great high school team: gimmicky at best, condescending at worst, and to any that spend time contemplating what and how we eat, a bit puzzling. If you want taco truck fare, why don’t you go to an actual taco truck? 

That very same Sunday night anyone with the hankering could have taken a short cruise west, on National, and subjected their appetites to La Flamita’s weekly special of one-buck pastor tacos. Cut by a big man with a large knife, direct from the trompo—one of the few of the Lebanese-rooted vertical spits in town—greasy, salty, piggy turns of earthiness are spiked by pineapple hunks, upped by arbol salsa that pokes through each bite like it has something to prove. Or, even better, it being Sunday and a day of fun after all, you could have an alambre. Mix your pastor with asada and with chorizo and with gooping, melting queso, the whole thing congealing into a warm, grandmotherly embrace of a taco mix mash, everything punctuated by peppers and onions. Plopped on top is a steaming baked potato, because they want you to be happy, full.   

It is the ideal meal for someone who can’t decide, yes, but also who wants it all, who won’t settle, who wants to soar, like Costanza on the wings of Pastrami, to an Epicurean taste fete of grease and meat sweat pleasure. But you can also stay comfortably on the street, barely 12 bucks in the hole, with leftovers certainly, alone in the car, beyond judging eyes or the formalities of waiters, to ponder life and appetite decisions, and wonder how many more you have room for. 

3. Tlayuda - La Costena 

If you have little kids you probably go to the Domes 300 times or so per year, or so it seems; and because it’s there, you probably go to Honeydip Donuts across the street maybe just a few times less. Heading south then, passing La Costena and it’s beckoning redness, the HGTV optics of an A-frame mini house-cum-taco truck is refreshing, promising in its cutesiness, alluring if only for the hope of something different. 

And different it is. Start with a pastor, my personal barometer of a taqueria’s worth. So often simple scraps of salted pink pork do the trick, but here it is decidedly less piggy, moister, deeper, somehow more seasoned and cheffy. Or try the asada, a 100-level taco order, but here redolent of butcher freshness, liberal salt, flattop love. Really you can tell from “hola,” by the friendliness, by the slowness, by the perfectly-quoted wait times from the counter man: Costena may well be the premier taco truck in town. 

Then, working your way through the menu, you get here, to a Mexican pizza, a NYC-slice-consistency, corn-shelled ship of salty flavor. The tlayuda is basically begging for you to take a picture, posturing with the bright allure of the flag of our neighbors to the south, popping with the reds of tomato and chipotle salsa, the greens of lettuce, avocado, the whites of queso, svelty sour cream, it all kept grounded by a swab of creamy refrieds, topped by a generous smattering of your carne of choice. Objectively, that choice should be chorizo, the grease-running ground sausage bits so rife with garlic, so equally charry and wet, that it makes any other kind of meat cover seem a bit tepid, a bit too-healthy.   

And sometimes this is how traditions are born, out of a need to get a little person out of the house, out of a desire to let them sleep off dreams of cacti and sausage fruit trees from Namibia in the backseat while dad sates creeping hunger and insoluble curiosity. Such is the joy of family, when you realize even proximity to Sobelman’s, to Oscar’s, can be beat, by this, a whole new world of car-meal, of pizza-esque joy, of something different. Long live the Domes.  

2. Brisket Burger, Hot Chicken Sandwich, Pimento Cheese, Cheese Curds - Palomino

It’s hard to keep track: Where are we all now on Palomino? Are we still mad they raised prices? Disappointed that it’s less bar and more restaurant? Stuck in a provincial mode that makes us yearn for cheap frozen tots and Bingo? Are we upset that they took a look in the mirror, didn’t coast, made an effort, and made their food much, much, much better? Or have we all just kind of forgotten it?  

Maybe I shouldn’t question. Just appreciate the fact I can walk in on a Friday night at 8, find whatever table I want, or a spot at the bar, and order any one or combo of my favorite things to eat in Milwaukee.  

There’s no better way to ruin an appetite and a doctor’s wishes than starting a feast with the curds. Elongated oblong bricks of a battered, sheeny shell, barely housing liquefying magma ooze, seem to get almost transported from fryer to wherever I’m sitting and leaning forward. Such is the temperature, the still oil-shimmering, post-bath promise. Stretchy and rich, airy and crispy, endlessly goopy, it’s a snack only matched in Southern-leaning decadence by the pimento cheese. This is piquant-popped velvetiness, the dream of what grown-up grilled cheese can embody, when plopped atop the accompanying charred toast.  

It takes will, recklessness, irresponsibility to keep going at this point. The hot chicken thigh, barely saddled inside a buttery brioche, is helped by two things: greasy slicks of mayo and house hot sauce aid gullet passage; also the heft is constructed so that if you put it down, it might fall apart. One must push forth, in delicious punishment. Then there is the brisket burger. No other burger in town is so good at avoiding overtopping, overhyping, overpricing, a balance of kitchen art and pleasure. Like it is no big deal: fresh ground meat, American cheese, onion, pickle, silky mayo-y special sauce. Here is what it would feel like if you could sit down at a Bay View bar and eat a Kopp’s masterpiece sided by an IPA on a chill Friday night, where you can also remember your growth-spurt 16-year-old appetite, even while pushing 40.

If there were ever a case to be made for it being OK to find a rut, to never stray or explore, to find your caloric Cheers and never think about going anywhere else, Palomino would lead my argument. 

1. Bahn Mi - Pho Hai Tuyet

There’s rarely a person that borrows my phone that doesn’t make the comment, the note: “You have a Pho Hai Tuyet app?” It’s there, near the front, proudly prominent, a bit out of place near Lyft and Instagram because it’s a by-the-airport dive in a converted fast food shack with endless out-of-commission fish tanks, and, for some reason, a stage. It is also known, has garnered a bit of a cult following for a fat guy sandwich of near-perfection. Or, it was, actually. 

Pho hai shuttered quietly, but inevitably, to anyone who’s been recently, sometime between this past spring and the future of our discontent. Still there was shock to those of us who thought the sandwich would always be there: the big French baguette bed, crispy, succulent pork scrags, garlicky mayo, heaps of cilantro, crispy jalapeno punches.    

To write about it hurts, like a eulogy, where you need to remember the bad and mix it with the strange to paint a picture. As it happens I have a friend who informed me that, once, while eating inside, he could hear something audibly scampering in the ceiling panels. Out of loyalty, out of sandwich-love, I practiced willful ignorance. I have another friend, a writer sort, who sports a Pho Hai polo shirt in his author bio pic. It seems like some sort of hipster ironicism, unless you know how much he loves—loved—the sandwich. And, really, what are we but not physical manifestations of our past meals and meal memories? A collection of those calories and reminisces.

Even as we look ahead, to more eating, to big city, big event pedigree, to maybe ending the national embarrassment, to 2020, to a promise of new vision, as we yearn for responsibility and reason, to, well, to... who knows? Whatever happens, whatever is next, I will never delete my Pho Hai Tuyet app.

[fishinthewater2611]

This is a must-read for whoever drooting for Nahikari.
Nahikari García Pérez (1997, Urnieta, Guipuzcoa, Euskadi) is a footballer who plays as a forward in Real Sociedad and in the Spanish National Team. At 22 she has lived many experiences that have made her mature at a personal level in an accelerated way. She is a restless, humble person, committed to learn and improve every day as an athlete and as a person, competitive, ambitious, non-negotiable values, committed to her club, her team, her colleagues, her culture … I asked Nahikari to give me his testimony personal, because it can be a mirror in which to look at any boy or girl who has the dream of going far in what she decides to do.
Professional player, student, restless and self-demanding person
My name is Nahikari García, I am a Real Sociedad player and a medical student at the University of the Basque Country. With only 16 years I had the opportunity to debut in the first division, and since then I combine my university studies with my sports career. Since my arrival in the first division, women’s football has had an exponential growth that I was able to witness in the first person. Now I am 22 and things have changed a lot, although there is still a long way to go.
Many will ask how you can take the requirement to play in the top category along with some university studies . But that is the reality of most of the players of the Iberdrola League. And to me personally, it’s something that I love. It is not an easy task, it requires a lot of effort and sacrifice. But in this time I have learned that if a good balance is achieved between both things, it can be very positive both for sports performance and for mental state . You learn to disconnect, know how to differentiate the importance of each thing in each moment, and above all it helps you not to lose the perspective of the future. We all know that this sport has an expiration date, that there is a later date, and that by the time it ends, we have to be prepared.
I am a very self demanding person, so sometimes, being competent in two powerful contexts can play a trick on you. That’s why I got the right balance. As I said, in recent years we have grown a lot, the level of demand and dedication has increased and that “forces” to have to prioritize . Even so, at no time have I considered leaving the studies aside, since I am aware that learning to carry out both things has helped me to be where I am .
Many sacrifices that compensate, know how to work for goals postponed in time
It is not easy to reach the highest level: it requires a lot of work, dedication and effort, that is, having to leave many things aside. You know that you will not lead a life like the ones around you, weekends traveling, without seeing your friends, summers without holidays, family meals you can not attend … A different life that undoubtedly deserves the sorrow.
When I look back on my short career and remember all the countries I’ve traveled to, all the people I’ve met, the bad and good times I’ve lived and made me learn so much, do not allow me to see everything that effort as a sacrifice, but as an investment. An investment that translates into impressive personal growth. I can say with total certainty that I feel I do not stop learning at any time, I learn from the people I surround myself with, from what I live in day to day, when I win and when I lose.
For me, one of the keys to being able to reach the elite and to be able to achieve the objectives that one sets is to not lose focus, know where you want to be and what path you should follow. For that reason I consider it important to choose your referents well and know how to surround yourself with people you can trust and know how to redirect you when you deviate . Many of these people are from your family. But not everything is to arrive, many people reach the First Division. The really difficult thing is to stay. And there comes a very important factor, which is the mental aspect. When the level increases, the demand is increasing, own or internal and also external, and knowing how to take it is not always easy.
Learning from the difficulties
In 2016, I suffered one of the most complicated situations of my sports career . We had arrived for the third consecutive year to the final of the U19 European Championship , we played in Slovakia against a star-studded France and we came to make a championship almost perfect and eager to take our first gold medal. All a high end! That day we were losing 1-0 to the rest, but with good feelings and the whole second part ahead. Then the surrealism began. During the break the universal flood that flooded the entire field fell and caused them to spend more than an hour debating whether to continue playing or suspend the game. Finally they decided that we should play, and that’s where we went, to fight in a field full of water.
As soon as the second half started, I failed a penalty that I had caused. Their second goal came and, later, we scored. Minute 90, 2-1 on the scoreboard and comes the play that, surely, more will mark my career (not necessarily in a negative way). After a shot from the edge of the area, the ball is dead just over a meter from the goal line, and there I was. Easy: push it, 2-2 and we would play it on penalties. But it was not like that. The ball went over the crossbar. In this way, the possibility of taking the gold collapsed and, with this, as I would later prove little by little, all my confidence and security. At that time, despite everything, I felt the affection of many people and felt the team close, very close, zero reproaches for what happened. I thought I was fine, I kept telling myself that these were things that could happen and that I would forget them.
But the reality was another, because it influenced my way of playing and even my way of being, it affected my character. It took me a while to recognize it, but once I did it, I got down to work and began to work on other factors, I started to work on the mental aspect, my emotions, thoughts and feelings on the field. Things that maybe until then had not given much importance. 
In my style of play, my personality had always been very important, since I am aware that my strength is not technique or dribbling. I am a person with a lot of character, a very, very competitive player. After what happened in Slovakia I felt that all that personality, which had led me to compete with the best and made me be a different player, collapsed . Then there began the work I was talking about before, a job of internal reconstruction, of growth, emotional and mental , to find myself again.
I think I got it, after two years without being with the national team, last September I was summoned for the first time with the Absolute Team. And now here I am, among the 23 chosen to play a World Cup. I’ve had less good times, but surely without them I would not have been where I am right now. And I think that in the end, those moments make us learn and value things that maybe we did not value before . Failure makes us grow, makes us better.
I have been working with professionals for over two years. First, I did it with José Carrascosa individually, who taught me to face that doldrums and control my thoughts . And this last year in the Real, we have been working with Jon Berastegi in improving the handling of emotions . Interestingly, this year we have been champions of the Copa de la Reina. I do not know if it is chance or not, but what I have clear is that it has been a fundamental aspect in the growth of the team, collectively and individually.
Being a team, the union between companions, is key
During these years I have had the opportunity to be in different teams within the Real. Also, in different categories of the selection. Therefore, I have shared clothes with many people, all of them different from each other. I have learned that the union of a group can lead to extraordinary things, such as a Copa de la Reina. Above all, I have realized that, within a team, without the person next to us, we are nothing. No matter how infinitely good you are, if you are not surrounded by a group of people who accompany you, believe and trust you, you will not get anything. The good of the team is ALWAYS above all and of all, and that is a maxim that we should all have very clear. When the group has a clear and common goal, in which they join hands to try to get it, it is difficult to escape. Nothing is possible if you do not work as a team.
The attainment of the title of the Copa de la Reina has been a very important event within the club, since the football section had been winless for 32 years. For me it has been very special to be able to win a title with my team of a lifetime. A dream come true. And in what way, too!
Commit and take responsibility is an opportunity to learn, identify, be unique and different
When you defend the shirt and the shield of YOUR team, besides being something nice, it is a responsibility, it is a backpack that you have to know how to wear, and more when you see yourself in the group of captains. I consider myself a very emotional person, which leads me to suffer double defeats and to value victories a lot. I like to get involved in the projects, help in the growth of the team and feel part of it.
These years I have always learned from the people that I have had around and from the experiences that I am living. In this last year I have felt in first person that being a captain is much more than putting on a bracelet for 90 minutes . Actually, that’s the least of it. You have to be aware that your image is constantly projected as an example, for better or for worse. The captain is the person in charge of uniting, listening and helping . Although it is said easy, it is not always easy. I think that besides seeing it as a responsibility, it is also important to consider it as a learning opportunity. Because without any doubt, the person who acts as captain is the most enriched, because it does not stop being a constant learning and growth .
Live football more professionally, a qualitative leap
As a team we have made a great leap, since a year and a half ago, with the arrival of Gonzalo Arconada to our dressing room. A coach who until now had only trained in men’s football, but who came from the elite, having trained First and Second Division clubs, among others. This gave us a different approach, a level jump. It allowed us to see football from a more professional point of view. It has given us more intensity in training, demand and concentration . He has put a lot of emphasis on taking care of our way of acting. In addition, he has also conveyed to us the importance of taking responsibility for the image we show towards others. 
We started to be references, and assimilating it is a job in which Gonzalo has deepened a lot in this last year. It has given us tools to understand that the attitude and image we show every day also shows the commitment we have towards our profession and, more important if possible, towards ourselves . And that is something we needed. The demand for everyone in this time has been greater and that has made us better.
Growth of women’s football
There is no denying that the growth of women’s football with the entry of televisions, sponsors, the biggest investment of clubs … in recent years is being brutal. But it is equally undeniable that there is still a long way to go and many barriers to break down . We are taking steps forward little by little, and I think one of the keys is that we are doing it hand in hand, knowing that we have a common goal and collective benefit . In sight are the constant displays of affection between clubs and rival players after the achievement of important achievements. And this, I hope, is one of the values ​​that we never lose.
Fight for your own dreams
To all those girls and boys who start their journey, if they like and are excited about what they do, I would tell them to fight for their dreams . That objectives are set, that they have a clear focus to look at and pursue it with their eyes closed. Let them enjoy the path and learn from the obstacles that will be found in it . It will make them grow, reflect and mature. It will make you better. Those who take obstacles as a form of learning will be close to true growth. I would like to convey to you that every effort will be worthwhile , that everything in this life serves to learn and that from all that we have lived and felt we can draw positive conclusions.

[thexjames]

Something About December

Chloe loved Christmas. It was her second favourite holiday, losing slightly to New Years. As she awoke on the Eve of Yule, she hopped up from the couch to glance out the window, hoping this year she’d be gifted with a white Christmas. She wasn’t lucky enough for that apparently, as the sun was shining brightly on the courtyard of below her. Sighing, Chloe thought to herself, maybe next year.

This was her second Christmas in New York City. It was a vast difference to Christmases growing up - the weather being the smallest change. Usually her holidays were spent surrounded by a large family, kids running through the house and adults gathered in the living room fondly catching up on their years, the smell of gingerbread cookies filling her grandparents’ home. Last year was the first time she hadn’t been able to make it home for Christmas, school, work, and finances not allowing the trip back to Florida. Her mother had offered to pay for a flight down of course, but Chloe had to work the 23rd and the 26th, making the trip too difficult. It was a hard Christmas for her, the culmination of a tough year of vet school and living on her own.

It was her first Christmas away from Beca in many years as well.

The brunette had accompanied her to her family’s home the four years prior, always complaining on the way that there were too many people and you shouldn’t be in Florida on Christmas as you’d never get to see snow. The second they would arrive at Chloe’s grandparents’ house though, all sign of indignation would disappear from the brunette. Chloe had fallen a little more in love with the best friend every holiday season, watching Beca chase her niece and nephews through the house, squeals of delight coming from the kids as they hid behind doorways. She would look on fondly as Beca helped her grandmother with the trays of gingerbread cookies, insisting she could climb on the counter to reach the nutmeg and didn’t need the help of an “abnormally tall person.”

Last year, Beca had tried to clear her schedule to come to New York for the season, but her label wouldn’t let her off the hook - they had a big album release on the 30th and couldn’t have a producer gone the week before the release. Chloe understood, she really did, and she and Beca skyped while watching It’s a Wonderful Life on Christmas Eve, keeping at least some of their traditions alive. It had been sweet of Beca, making gingerbread cookies at her apartment in LA and eating them whilst watching the movie with Chloe.

This year Beca was in Europe, being sent to promote the newest album she was working on. The artist, a young singer-songwriter, had connected with Beca and the label decided to use the friendship of the two young ladies, artist and producer, as a way to build publicity for the album. It worked, radio stations across the country had already picked up three singles from the new release. Beca was looking at her first grammy if things panned out. Chloe was so proud, if not tinged with sadness at the idea that even a skype date was probably out of the question.

Chloe turned off her television and began getting dressed, bundling up for the chilly winter weather despite the lack of snow. She’d decided to go for a walk in Central Park, needing to get out of her apartment at least for a while. The sun was beginning to settle below the trees and the light in the park would hopefully put her in more of a Christmas spirit.

Walking through Central Park was a favourite part of living in the city. The lights had been delicately placed throughout the tree branches on the main walkway of the park, causing a lovely soft glow throughout. As Chloe walked, she thought about the brunette, wondering what she was doing right now. If her time adjustment was correct it was just after midnight in London, where Beca was meant to be for the next few days, meaning it was officially Christmas. She pulled her phone out, forcing herself to smile brightly as she took a selfie and sent it to Beca, adding “Happy Christmas” to the bottom of it. She wished for nothing more than to be able to spend the holiday with her best friend, preferably not being just friends anymore. She knew neither of those things were feasible at the time, however.

Three months ago Beca had confessed her feelings. Beca had flown Chloe out to LA to spend fall break with her, the brunette having some downtime between albums, and a night out drinking had turned into the conversation Chloe had longed to hear for years. The breath had left Chloe as she listened to her best friend nervously admit that she was in love with her, had been for longer than even she realized. Chloe was in a dream, she never thought the brunette returned her feelings, and knowing now that she did was everything she ever wanted.The elation Chloe felt had been dampened though by the idea of trying to work with the distance between them, and Beca’s crazy schedule. After an emotional conversation, the two had decided to keep their friendship in tact, as opposed to trying a long-distance relationship that they knew had a very real possibility of ending in heartbreak.

The difference between them after that conversation was palpable though. Chloe felt as if she and Beca were dating, even if it was unsaid. They spoke on the phone more often than before, skype dates became a regular occurrence - even just for a few minutes on Beca’s break. Their conversations flirted between friendly and more. She knew Beca wasn’t seeing anyone, and she certainly had no intention of dating. So although technically they were still best friends, Chloe felt the underlying current of ‘wait for me’ in every interaction she had with the brunette. She would wait for her, she always had, and Beca knew as much - though the younger girl would never ask for that. She’d said it wouldn’t be fair for Chloe, that she needed to focus on school and not worry about having a girlfriend across the country. Words and actions seemed to differ though, as even Chloe’s school and work friends assumed they were together at this point, regardless of her denials.

Chloe had decided she was okay with whatever deferred state they were in currently; the conversations that turned borderline and the late night calls, the skype chats just because Beca wanted to see her face, the drastic increase in pictures - selfies in particular - she received from the brunette. She had no problem maintaining whatever they were doing until distance wasn’t an issue. She planned to tell Beca just that once she returned from the European tour mid-January, not to put any pressure on the younger girl, just so she would know that Chloe didn’t intend on finding someone else anytime soon.

Chloe walked through the wrought iron gates of the park and turned to head back to her apartment. She noticed her corner coffee shop was still open - things in New York didn’t close the way she was used to for the holidays. Stopping in, the decided to grab a peppermint mocha before going to watch It’s a Wonderful Life, telling herself Beca had more than likely watched it earlier in her evening as well.

******************************************************************************************************************

    The flight from London to New York had been long, and miserable with a packed plane due to the holidays. She’d been stuck in a middle seat, between a scrooge-like businessman (Beca felt the sentiment) and a jovial older woman who Beca now knew had three grandchildren, one in college on a football scholarship, one who was about to graduate high school, and one starting seventh grade (she hadn’t wanted to be rude so waited to put her headphones on until two hours into the flight.)

By some miracle, after a long conversation with her label manager, Beca had managed to book the last flight out that would put her home before Christmas.

Home. Beca wasn’t thinking about New York when she used that word. Her home was with Chloe, a fact she had known for years. As she waited for her luggage to reach the claim belt, Beca thought back on the last two days. It had been a hectic race to get everything worked out, contracts drawn up and signed, and finally - luckily - securing a flight back in time for Christmas. She was too excited to be nervous at the time, but the eight hour transAtlantic flight had given her a chance to start second-guessing her decision. Beca shook her head to clear her thoughts, there was nothing to be hesitant about, she wanted this more than anything.

Baggage claim took forever, not surprising to Beca, and after thirty minutes she had managed to secure a cab from the airport to midtown, to Chloe’s apartment. Just before her flight left Beca had called Chloe’s mom to make sure the redhead was going to be in New York, not particularly wanting to show up to an empty place, and was treated to a Chloe-like squeal as Anne realized that Beca was in an airport. She smiled to herself as she remembered the conversation.

“Rebecca Mitchell are you flying to home surprise my daughter on Christmas?!?” Beca had to pull the phone away from her ear slightly so she wouldn’t temporarily lose her hearing.

“Um…” Beca paused. “Yes. Please don’t say anything to her though. If something happens and the flight gets delayed or anything-”

“My lips are sealed honey. Oh, I’m so happy right now. I didn’t want my baby spending Christmas alone.” Beca was pretty sure Anne was crying.

“You’re sure she’ll be there though, and I’m not going to be interrupting anything? I can get a hotel room-” Again she was cut off.

“Don’t you even think about getting a hotel, yes she will be there and yes she will be ecstatic to see you so don’t try and psyche yourself out now.” The mothering tone Anne took caused Beca’s heart to warm.

“Yes ma’am.” She said.

“Beca?” The brunette heard Roger come over the line, realizing she’d been put on speakerphone.

“Yes Mr. Beale?” Beca responded. She’d been told many times to call him Roger but the tone in which Chloe’s father said her name had her nervous once more.

“Are you going to marry our daughter?”

Beca choked on the Starbucks she was currently drinking, sputtering slightly. Her heart started racing momentarily, before she happened to glance up and see an older couple sitting across from her waiting for their flight. She answered before realizing she’d spoken.

“I’d very much like to, sir.” Her eyes went wide as she realized she’d just said that to Chloe’s parents, and probably the rest of her family.

“Good. Because we’d like that too. Now have a safe flight and let me or Mama know when you’ve landed.” Beca thought she heard emotion in his voice, but luckily didn’t have time to think on it as her gate was called to board.

“I will, sir. Happy Christmas.” She said, still slightly in shock, as she stood and grabbed her carry-on.

“Happy Christmas Beca!” Her face flushed as she heard multiple voices respond, confirming that she was in fact on speakerphone.

Realizing she hadn’t texted Mrs. Beale yet, she pulled her phone out to let her know she had made it safely. She saw she had a text from Chloe, smiling as she opened it and saw her best friend beaming at her, Christmas lights in the background. Quickly, she shot off a text to Anne, as well as one to her boss letting both of them know she’d landed safely, before putting her phone away and looking out the window. She was only twenty minutes or so from Chloe’s apartment now, she thought to herself, as she noticed snowflakes beginning to fall outside.

******************************************************************************************************************

    Chloe nursed her peppermint mocha as she walked the three blocks back to her apartment. As she took a sip, something wet hit her hand, and she looked up, smiling as she saw the snow falling down toward her. Maybe she would get a white Christmas after all.

    As she turned the corner, she noticed a cab pull up in front of her building. She glanced at her watch, noting that it was just after nine, and thought to herself that she would hate having to be driving a cab right now. When she looked back up though, she stopped walking. A petite brunette got out of the cab, shrugging a beanie on before turning back to grab something. Chloe’s breath caught in her throat, but she told herself it was a coincidence. The girl just looked like Beca, that was all. There was no way - but the brunette set a suitcase down on the sidewalk and adjusted her beanie, running slender fingers through the hair that was sticking out of it. Chloe knew that motion, she’d seen it dozens of times. She began walking toward her building again, and the girl, quickening her pace. She was about five feet away when Beca, her Beca, that was supposed to be in London right now, turned toward her. She had a deer in headlights look for a moment before a soft smile played on her lips.

    “Becs?” Chloe said softly, still not believing what she was seeing.

    “Hey Chlo.” And suddenly Chloe was closing the distance in two steps, wrapping her best friend in her arms. Beca hugged her back fervently, before pulling away and looking at her with that soft smile still.

    “I don’t understand, you’re supposed to be in London?” Chloe questioned.

    “Well yeah...but we have a tradition to uphold don’t we?” Beca responded, shoving her hands in her jacket pockets.

    Chloe smiled brightly before scooping Beca up in another hug. She had so many questions but right now she was just so happy that the brunette was here.

    “Chlo. Chloe, I can’t breathe.” Beca said, laughing, and Chloe let her go once more.

    “How are you here?” Chloe questioned.

    “Well, I took a plane, then a cab, and -” Beca began.

    Chloe smacked her lightly on the arm. “No, you know what I mean Becs.”

    “I’ll explain that, but first, here.” Beca pulled an envelope out of her back pocket. “I know it’s not quite Christmas, but here’s part of your present.”

    Chloe took the envelope and opened it, noticing her hands were trembling slightly. She pulled out a stack of papers, flipping them open to see what looked like a contract. She looked up to Beca, who just smiled and nodded at her to read. Skimming the page, her eyes caught on the third sentence, and she gasped as she looked back at Beca.

    “The label wants me to open their newest studio, here, in New York.” Beca was smiling as she said the words, looking up at Chloe through emotion filled eyes. “I move back after the first of the year.”

    Chloe felt tears well up, she couldn’t even process the amount of happiness she felt. “So, you’re back?” She whispered.

    “I’m back.” Beca echoed, grabbing the envelope from her trembling hands and setting it on top of the suitcase still sitting beside them. Her hands then moved to Chloe’s face, wiping a tear from her cheek before moving her hair behind her ear. “I’m back.” She said again.

Chloe stared at the girl before her, steel eyes warm as they moved from her eyes to glance at her lips, then back up. She couldn’t stop herself, feeling the draw Beca had on her as she moved her hands to the brunettes jacket, pulling her closer. Beca’s breath hitched slightly before she swept forward, closing the rest of the distance between them. Chloe felt soft lips on hers, a new but familiar feeling coursing through her as she kissed her best friend, pulling back slowly as a snowflake landed on her cheek. She laughed, looking up at the flakes catching the streetlight as they fell silently all around them. Looking back at Beca, she felt the brunette take her hand, tightening her grip as she pulled her back in. Beca brought her other hand to Chloe’s cheek as lips moved as softly as the falling snow.

    Beca pulled back slightly, resting their foreheads together as Chloe’s smile overtook her face once more. The hand still on her face gently ran a thumb over her cheekbone, before the brunette spoke once more, this time a near whisper.

    “Happy Christmas, Chlo.”