#gernando

[effervescentdragon]

on mistakes and regrets and love

for @sebsrainbowbicycle 💖 and @mssr-monagato 💞

credits, in no order bcs im so tired i can barely look:

Chelsea G. Summers, A Certain Hunger // LOTR // David Levithan, How They Met and Other Stories // this world by Czesław Miłosz // How to Maintain Eye Contact, Robert Wood Lynn

x x x // fernando torres - el último simbolo (2020)

young and beautiful - lana del ray // another love - tom odell

[staywildmoonrise]

And i Just getting color...

... back into my face and

__

I'm just mad as hell 'cause...

__

I love this place...

For so long...

London Liverpool

Had a good run...

[kraeki]

Time for some Gernando nostalgia. Remember when it felt like those two could win every game for us?

[sheswanderlust-txt]

It's always a good day to remember that time Nando trained with Stevie's number 8 jacket.

[vro0m-but-not-cars]

Ok by now we've all see this gif by @lastpenaltytaker

So this

Is the moment when he goes from watching his eyes to watching his mouth

and then

and then

and then

and then (is he looking into his eyes again?)

and then (that's definite eye contact)

and then

and then

and then

and then (did he close his eyes?)

and then

and then

[divingsave]

i admire liverpool's commitment to posting stevie/fernando pictures at every opportunity

[molifestylesblog]

Die Welt is so dreckigen könnt mich jedesmal kotzen ......

[bonmatis]

it's 2024 and i still go feral when i see stevie and nando together

[b-vil-bee]

What is the match where the gernando kiss happened?anyone know where can i watch it?imma go and find and make my own gif bc apparently i repost the gif without credit (BECAUSE I FORGOT)so the owner asked me to delete it..

[wigglesforonce]

on another spreadsheet research binge, here are some photos from my digging (2008 edition)

fernando alonso on a motorcycle, 2008 spanish gp

mark webber looking coo, 2008 spanish gp

sebastian vettel jumping into the monaco harbour (for some reason?), 2008 monaco gp

sebastian bordais with his daughter, the coolest toddler ive seen, 2008 french gp

very cool banner, 2008 british gp

a hedgeshaped f1 car, 2008 british gp

very unfortunate mug of felipe massa, 2008 european gp

oh hes running (kimi raikkonen), 2008 belgium gp

very intimate close up of sebastian vettel, 2008 belgium gp

who is this man, 2008 belgium gp

sebastian vettel presumably failing at kicking a ball, charity football match

crowd surfing sebastian vettel, 2008 italian gp

nico rosberg reading the redbill bulletin (i forgot rbr used to have a magazine), 2008 japanese gp

very cute fan flag for toro rosso, 2008 japanese gp

why are the tires blue, 2008 japanese gp

WHAT camera affect are they using???, 2008 chinese gp

they dont do drivers parade floats like this anymore, 2008 chinese gp

[effervescentdragon]

a little snippet of a much bigger fic (hopefully, sometime) that wouldn't leave me alone since the lfc-ajax legends game, for @san-maranello and @sebsrainbowbicycle <3 also i feel like posting something so there.

“He is really good,” Jamie says, because he is old and he remembers playing against the Mancs in the legend game and he could barely keep his breath halfway through the first half. Torres just played full ninety minutes, as did Stevie, and no matter what, that in itself is admirable.

Stevie says nothing, just sips his beer. Jamie… doesn’t want to let it go.

“I mean, he’s what, almost forty, yeah? And he -”

“Just turned forty,” Stevie interjects. “Three days ago.” 

Jamie looks at him. Stevie taps his fingers on the beer glass. He doesn’t look like he wants to say anything. He looks like those words were torn out of him already. 

Jamie goes on. “Yeah, forty. And he played full ninety, innit? Amazing,” he finishes, and takes another sip of his beer. Stevie nods, his face flat. “Too bad he couldn’t keep that form up with the billion pound bottle jobs,” he says laughing. “For him, not for us, but whatever. His decision, his fault.”

He goes to take a sip and catches the shadows on Stevie’s face. There’s something in his eyes that Jamie almost recognizes from a long time ago, but it’s gone when Jamie puts down the glass. Stevie doesn’t look like he’s going to say anything and so Jamie continues. 

“They put him against us right after,” Jamie says. “I said this to Gary, that last time we played Chelsea, what, four, five years ago? Yeah, s’mthing like that,” he continues, “I told him, That was a mistake, not against us, not after everything, yeah?” Stevie isn’t looking at him, just staring into his glass. “My thoughts, that’s what fucked him over the most. That’s why he couldn’t get himself together after.”

Stevie taps the glass. “You talk about Gary loads, yeah.”

It’s not a question. Jamie still shrugs. “Yeah, guess so. We work together, ya know? Might’ve caught us on the telly sometimes, if you bothered to watch Premier League anymore,” he adds with a grin. 

Stevie gives a small smile. “Can’t be arsed to watch ya manhandle the Manc,” he says, and Jamie refuses to think any more about it.

“Back to the El Niño,” he grins, “not a niño anymore, right? He’s a huge fella now, looks like he ate himself, honest.”

Stevie laughs, shaking his head. “Yeah, but he was always big, innit, always taller than us.”

“Anyones taller than youse,” Jamie says with a wicked grin. “‘Cept Gary, I reckon. He’s tiny.”

“‘Cept in his waistline,” Stevie laughs. “If anyone looks like he ate himself…”

Jamie frowns.

“Don’t go tellin’ him that, yeah? He’ll get mighty upset. ‘Sides, ‘s not even that bad, I just like taking the piss out of him for all those chocolates he eats, though they do make him less grumpy. Feels like that’s the only thing I can wind him up about.” He pauses. “And how shit United are, obviously.”

They exchange a look that very cleary says That FA Cup game was a fluke and we aren’t talking about it, and then Stevie chuckles. “Fine. I won’t make fun of your boyfriend, least not in his face.” He laughs. “Or waist.”

“Fuck ye,” Jamie says, but he knows Stevie means it. He isn’t the kind of guy to go for the below the belly shots, Stevie, proper and honourable lad he is. Those kinds of shots are more Jamie’s territory.

Speaking of…

“Could you even hug ‘im after the goal, with how broad he got since the last time we played?”

Stevie narrows his eyes. “Yeah, was fine. That was a nice goal, I’m glad he could score again. Would’ve liked to have scored one meself, but it wasn’t meant to be I guess.”

“Not for a lack of trying. He was passing you the ball something vicious.” Jamie chuckles. “I liked when you just laid there in front of the goal after you missed, felt very oh-seven. Some things never change.”

“Yeah, well. Some things do.”

Now, Jamie knows this is something he should let go. They haven’t talked about a lot of things for a very long time, and it’s been a very long time since it happened. They’re all in their forties now, doing different things and moving on with their lives. 

Except, are we? Jamie thinks. I’m with Gary, watching more football than I ever played, or so it feels. Stevie’s in Saudi, coaching, just like Xabi in Germany, and hopefully in England soon. Even Torres is coaching in Spain, Under 19s or sommat. Did we ever move on, really? Can we?

The thoughts are a mite depressing and too serious for a night out with his best mate who doesn’t come home nearly as often as Jamie would sometimes like him to. They throw off his rhythm in a way he doesn’t know what to do with. 

“Yeah, could’ve scored more for us if he weren’t a cunt and went to Chelsea,” he says nonsensically, a sentence he’s said a million times in the past, what, fifteen years? They’ve all said it thousands of times, in every tone imaginable, and he thinks nothing of it. 

Stevie usually thinks nothing of it, and usually agrees, or at least shrugs, unwilling to give any more of his thoughts on that disaster. 

Not tonight, apparently. 

“He was so good,” Stevie says, taking a huge gulp of his pint. “We were so good, fuck, it was the same today, yeah? One pass and I knew where he would be, and I knew where he’d expect me to be, ‘cept I can’t run that fast anymore and neither can he, not like we used to.” Jamie doesn’t like his tone, doesn’t like how it feels like it will stop being calm any second now. “I came in late, couldn’t get away before, and they pulled us into this shoot, barely had a moment to say hello to anyone and then we were already on the pitch.” He shakes his head. “And it didn’t matter. He still knew, and so did I, just like before.”

He should interrupt. He should. This isn’t… they don’t talk about this.

Stevie slams the glass on the table. “Yeah, well,” he says, rubbing his left eye with his ring finger. “He went, didn’t he? Fucked himself well over with that, yeah,” he says with a small snort. “Didn’t fuck us, but he fucked himself well and done when he left. Was never any good after us.”

Jamie thinks about whether he should say anything. Again, he thinks about how Stevie doesn’t come home often, sequestered away in Saudi and how good it is to have him home, if only for a while. He thinks about unsent messages and about how these days, he texted someone else instead of Stevie first. He thinks about Gary and about how his phone would light up sometimes and how Jamie would know it was their United of ‘92 group chat just by Gary’s smile. (Look what Scholesy sent me, Carra - Is it his feet, do you have to pay him, is this a foot fetish - Fuck you, no, it’s a meme and it’s really funny - I doubt it, but show it to me anyway Gary-lad) He thinks about Torres’ face every time Stevie was next to him, way back when in oh-six, oh-seven, and how he never looked away, his eyes always only on their Captain. He thinks about Xabi’s message, Take Stevie out tonight? He will need it. And drink something for all of us, James, and I might see you soon ;) and the Fuck you, don’t get me hopes up he sent in response. He thinks about how he never made an effort to ask for Torres’ number after that last charity match, and how he knows that Stevie still has it. (Called him, yeah, for the charity thing - Why? - Because he’s one of us - Is he? - He was. He is - I don’t think it works like that - You fucked off to the States - I didn’t want to - Yeah, Stevie, I know - It’s not the same - No, it ain’t - Yous can’t have him for your team - I don’t want him, the fuck would I do with him, he was always yours - I don’t think that works like that either.)

“Yeah,” he says, “you’re right there, Stevie.”

Stevie takes a moment, then sighs.

“Fuck you, Carra. But?”

“But what?” Jamie plays stupid, except, he learned how to play stupid when he was a kid standing right next to Stevie. 

Stevie, who rolls his eyes in the same way he always did when Jamie was a tad obnoxious.

“Exactly. But what, Jamie?” Stevie asks again, sharp and careful.

Jamie, curiously enough, thinks about Roy out of all people. About Roy saying They think they can come for one of mine, well, I think they should pick on someone their own size about Viera and Gary that once a lifetime ago when Jamie despised them all and he thinks about how Fernando was always big and strong but his eyes were always childish and wild when he looked at Stevie and he says, “But, Stevie… you told ’im to go.”

The breath Stevie sucks in is sharp. His voice, sharper. “Go get us ‘nother pint, Carra, yeah?” Captain’s voice, like a blast from the past.

Jamie knows not to disobey his captain when he uses that voice. He gets up and says, “Youse payin’,” and thinks he’ll never listen to that curiously cheerful-sounding voice in his head saying Jaaaaamie, you have to talk about your feelings man, or you’ll combust! 

Fuck Micah, and fuck Xabi, and fuck Stevie and Torres, and fuck all of this, he thinks, and orders them Lagavulin to go along with the pints. Stevie’s payin’ anyway. Jamie’s gonna take advantage of that.

What are best mates for, if not drowning sorrows in good whisky?

[coquettesamosa]

Tbh it's just tennis rn but f1 is filled with dynamics I like and bitches I hate so there's the occasional posting about that. And IPL. other than that I really don't care about sports💀💀plus there's an overlap in f1 and tennis bc rich white men stick together. Do you know piastri is a fan of jannik it's so cute

its still a likl bit funny but you're so right getting into sports is the easiest way to collect a buncha ppl that you love. and hate.

[kraeki]

“Steven Gerrard, this is my icon player”

[sheswanderlust-txt]

are words even needed. no bc i don't think i have any.

[bbglewis]

should I keep telling my dad about footy ships?