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pinned: fic index.

most recent at the top. personal favorites tagged here.

soccerslashCollapse )

johnny's entertainmentCollapse )

jdramasCollapse )

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OTP recs

for ease of sharing. also if maggie or laura made you come here please say hi.

David Silva/David Villa (and/or gen about either)

Introductory Italian
So Many Foreign Roads
And Goliath
Three Words We Never Say
(and it was a serious fucking struggle to cut it down to this list, so, also everything else. look around her lj for sure.)

The Poppy Harvest

The Distance Between Two Bodies (and its followups)

New York, New York
the sun sets in paradise
How David Villa learned to stop :|-ing and love David Silva (with a little help from Cesc)
The one where Pepe Reina gets a pair of gay cats

how to say goodbye in three different languages
at the end of the day
this is where we live

five times somebody called David Silva's bluff


two thousand one hundred and ninety six kilometers

5 Times David Silva Missed David Villa

Soulpatch Wishes

the thundering waves are calling me home

Damn You Look Good and I'm Drunk

The Tale of the Courtier
The Long Siesta
Miss Independent + Criminal
Calling Out The Dead
(there's definitely more as side pairings; for ex. see "The Marriage of Heaven and Hell")

Dry Season
Abort, Retry, Fail
Origin Stories

Raúl González/Fernando Morientes

The Tenth of February
Children of Piraeus
(more at this account too)

untitled coach Mori ficlet
with love, from everywhere but where you are

The Tale of the Courtier
Calling Out The Dead
A Steamwork Crumpet
this ficlet

357 Kilometers

Five Things That Never Happened To Fernando Morientes
the remains of the day


it took me 18 months to write 600 words. I wish I were kidding. I will think of a title and AO3 crosspost at... some point in the future, like tomorrow. done.

twelfth man
david villa/patricia gonzález. au. (on AO3.)

'She played football until she was 17... She played as a defender. I didn’t see her play a lot, but from what she’s told me, she was good.'Collapse )


[trans] Spitz - "Sara sara" (Murmurs)

For the anon who asked for this ages ago -- hopefully you see this! -- in honor of the fact that 1) Monday's concert was one of the most fun shows I have ever been to (and you will hear about this in more detail, sketchy concert report track record or no, because I have already typed up 90% of my impressions) and 2) this song almost made me cry live lololol.

Note on the title: I went with "Murmurs", like the sound a brook makes, because of the bridge. However though it generally means a rustling/swishing sound it can ALSO mean dry/dried up (さらさらした土), which in this case is an equally if not more valid interpretation. In fact I am still not totally satisfied with this choice and like many other things it remains subject to change.

MurmursCollapse )

kanaCollapse )

fic: truth in advertising (ronaldo/kaka)

so I wrote this like... two years ago? but could never get the final scene to my liking. then I rediscovered it a couple days ago and thought "hey, this isn't bad," and then yesterday happened (or didn't happen, as allegiances dictate). any resemblance to actual commercial organizations living or dead is of course a complete coincidence.

(Is there anyone who still prefers the livejournal layout for reading? I can crosspost if necessary, I'm just lazy these days.)

Truth in Advertising
Cristiano Ronaldo/Kaká
3345 words

One week to finalize a whole campaign pitch, the entirety of which will be centered around this sixty second television spot that is, currently, a blank document. Cris is so fucked. (AU)


dear yuletide author


yuletide... fic...? (orso e intellettuale)

I never got around to crossposting this. Because I never responded to comments. Because I'm a bad person. But rumors of Alessandro Nesta's imminent retirement reminded me, so uh. How about that Yuletide fic? Mine was for basso's Orso e Intellettuale series (read it*), in theory, and for the Rome derby in practice. As noted afterwards, the timeline doesn't work at all (see above), but the Venn Diagram of "very familiar with football timelines" and "very familiar with basso timelines" is vanishingly small. Also, I do what I want.

*not that I condone piracy, ahem, but you can find j-scans at nihonomaru and various other internet locales. Amato Amaro is the volume you want.

andata e ritorno
1142 words

Vittorio visits Rome and expands his cultural horizons.


Dec. 25th, 2012

I've been very awol from this journal lately, but. I hope everyone reading this is doing well right now, and that you have a lovely day regardless of what you celebrate. Merry Christmas. :)
Hello Yuletide writer! I am so sorry about my abbreviated sign ups; I was rushing like crazy to get the thing in before deadline. Of course if you'd rather go with less than more, go for it! I am way over in the Optional Details Are Optional camp and would always prefer a writer to feel excited rather than forced. :)

Last year's letter, which gives an idea of my general preferences, is here. Any questions you need answered can be directed at nahco3. More specifically:

fandom detailsCollapse )

a long-awaited posting

it has come to my attention that I have been letting down my end on the chatfic posting front. meaning it's time for the return of...

Late Night AU Theater, part 3245721

with your hosts, nahco3 and acchikocchi

tonight we introduce the first installment of our landmark series, Hookers That Sleep With Professors. (stay tuned long enough and you'll catch the tennis special, starring David Ferrer and Janko Tipsarevic. OH YOU THINK I'M KIDDING.) despite the fact that this chat occurred nearly a year ago the general concept has provided HOURS OF AMUSEMENT since. it is also very long. don't say I didn't warn you.

acchikocchi: now that my mind is on the subject
i would like to read some alvaro/raul that i did not write
nahco3: I feel you completely
but like what if it caught on
and then in a year there would be fic
where Raul was a heroin addicted hooker
and Alvaro was a professor
you would regret it
acchikocchi: chokes
oh my god
but i would also probably skim it out of morbid curiosity
to see just how you could DO that
nahco3: ok if I wrote you Alvaro/Raul
maybe Raul would not have a heroin addiction
acchikocchi: SO JUST A HOOKER THEN
he would be such a cheerful one though
actually that would be kind of hilarious


in summary:
acchikocchi: how the hell did i end up telling a story about raul albiol as a hooker, anyway
nahco3: um
I made up
acchikocchi: i think this is your fault.
nahco3: a badfic summary?
so not my fault here
acchikocchi: i'd like to blame you anyway
are you sure it's not
it would just be convenient.
nahco3: I am DV
ok, I called the hooker
but you are Alvaro
three posts in one week?? I know, right, what is even happening. but don't get too excited, this one is just valuable links for you.

1. footballhetfest is a new thing! a thing that opened yesterday and is just what it sounds like. if you're feeling inspired by the amazing Olympic women's football you can write about the amazing players of the national team of your choice, or you can also write about, say, how super great David Villa's wife is. oh wait that's what I'm doing. possibly more than once since writing that sentence gave me yet another idea. excellent.

2. if you are not in fandom and have found yourself thinking, gosh, Mer usually has such impeccable taste, I don't really get why she writes about that Cristiano Ronaldo creature in a remotely sympathetic way, you should definitely check out yeats & dorkorific's comprehensive guide to CRon, Kaka, and their deep and abiding true love. plus if you familiarize yourself with it you will be prepared to read some really excellent fic. (see me for details.)


incomplete phelps/lochte rec list

Since I see that Lochte/Phelps is experiencing a resurgence (as expected XD) and I still have all my old recs, I have compiled them here for the general benefit of humanity:

by canarycreams:
Right At Home

by lifescript:
four times ryan watched michael touch other swimmers (and one time he did something about it)
try to leave a light on

by hackthis:
rules & republics trilogy:
The Golden Rule ('When Zeus Met A Dolphin' playlist)
The One Chair Rule of Heterosexuality
The Person's Republic of Michael Phelps

Random Acts of Crazy Behavior

by thorne_scratch:
what I've got (you've got to give it to your mama) (aka, the one where Ian Thorpe marries Michael Phelps' mother)
Sports Make You Health
an untitled and painfully hilarious WIP about which I will not say anything other than, well, the tag

by dee_lirious:
put your circuits in the sea

by dancinbutterfly:
False Start

plus BONUS FIC written, like, two days ago:

by preromantics
winning rights (on LJ) (everyone who read this pairing back in '08 NEEDS to read this) (as do new fans)

additions/suggestions welcome. this list is not comprehensive. all rights reserved. all liabilities disclaimed. thank you for your patronage. please do not disturb the animals.


npm, ultimate

ending as we began.


I know you are reading this poem
late, before leaving your office
of the one intense yellow lamp-spot and the darkening window
in the lassitude of a building faded to quiet
long after rush-hour. I know you are reading this poem
standing up in a bookstore far from the ocean
on a grey day of early spring, faint flakes driven
across the plains' enormous spaces around you.
I know you are reading this poem
in a room where too much has happened for you to bear
where the bedclothes lie in stagnant coils on the bed
and the open valise speaks of flight
but you cannot leave yet. I know you are reading this poem
as the underground train loses momentum and before running
up the stairs
toward a new kind of love
your life has never allowed.
I know you are reading this poem by the light
of the television screen where soundless images jerk and slide
while you wait for the newscast from the intifada.
I know you are reading this poem in a waiting-room
of eyes met and unmeeting, of identity with strangers.
I know you are reading this poem by fluorescent light
in the boredom and fatigue of the young who are counted out,
count themselves out, at too early an age. I know
you are reading this poem through your failing sight, the thick
lens enlarging these letters beyond all meaning yet you read on
because even the alphabet is precious.
I know you are reading this poem as you pace beside the stove
warming milk, a crying child on your shoulder, a book in your
because life is short and you too are thirsty.
I know you are reading this poem which is not in your language
guessing at some words while others keep you reading
and I want to know which words they are.
I know you are reading this poem listening for something, torn
between bitterness and hope
turning back once again to the task you cannot refuse.
I know you are reading this poem because there is nothing else
left to read
there where you have landed, stripped as you are.

-- Adrienne Rich


npm, penultimate

Things Ended

Possessed by fear and suspicion,
mind agitated, eyes alarmed,
we desperately invent ways out,
plan how to avoid the inevitable
danger that threatens us so terribly.
Yet we’re mistaken, that’s not the danger ahead:
the information was false
(or we didn’t hear it, or didn’t get it right).
Another disaster, one we never imagined,
suddenly, violently, descends upon us,
and finding us unprepared—there’s no time left—
sweeps us away.

-- C.P. Cavafy

(tr. Edmund Keeley & Phillip Sherrard)


npm, antepenultimate

right under the wire, not new but much-loved.

Don't Ask Me For That Love Again

That which then was ours, my love,
don’t ask me for that love again.
The world then was gold, burnished with light –
and only because of you. That’s what I had believed.
How could one weep for sorrows other than yours?
How could one have any sorrow but the one you gave?
So what were these protests, these rumors of injustice?
A glimpse of your face was evidence of springtime.
The sky, wherever I looked, was nothing but your eyes.
If You’d fall into my arms, Fate would be helpless.

All this I’d thought, all this I’d believed.
But there were other sorrows, comforts other than love.
The rich had cast their spell on history:
dark centuries had been embroidered on brocades and silks.
Bitter threads began to unravel before me
as I went into alleys and in open markets
saw bodies plastered with ash, bathed in blood.
I saw them sold and bought, again and again.
This too deserves attention. I can’t help but look back
when I return from those alleys –what should one do?
And you still are so ravishing –what should I do?
There are other sorrows in this world,
comforts other than love.
Don’t ask me, my love, for that love again.

-- Faiz Ahmed Faiz

(tr. Agha Shahid Ali)


npwpm 4

third lopes of the month no regrets.

I don't like books

I don’t like books
as much
as Mallarmé seems
to have liked them
I’m not a book
and when people say
I really like your books
I wish I could say
like the poet Cesariny
what I’d really like
is for you to like me
books aren’t made
of flesh and blood
and when I feel
like crying
it doesn’t help
to open a book
I need a hug
but thank God
the world isn’t a book
and chance doesn’t exist
still and all I really like
and believe in the Resurrection
of books
and believe that in Heaven
there are libraries
and reading and writing

-- Adília Lopes



sorry i've been slipping!

Black Postcards

The calendar is full but the future is blank.
The wires hum the folk-tune of some forgotten land.
Snow-fall on the lead-still sea. Shadows
scrabble on the pier.

In the middle of life, death comes
to take your measurements. The visit
is forgotten and life goes on. But the suit
is being sewn on the sly.

-- Tomas Tranströmer


Apr. 18th, 2012


The cormorant still screams
Over cave and promontory.
Stony wings and bleak glory
Battle in your dreams.
Now sullen and deranged,
Not simply, as a child,
You look upon the earth
And find it harrowed and wild.
Now, only to mock
At the sterile cliff laid bare,
At the cold pure sky unchanged,
You look upon the rock,
You look upon the air.

-- Louise Bogan


npm (npwpm to return tomorrow)

At A Certain Age

We wanted to confess our sins but there were no takers.
White clouds refused to accept them, and the wind
Was too busy visiting sea after sea.
We did not succeed in interesting the animals.
Dogs, disappointed, expected an order,
A cat, as always immoral, was falling asleep.
A person seemingly very close
Did not care to hear of things long past.
Conversations with friends over vodka or coffee
Ought not be prolonged beyond the first sign of boredom.
It would be humiliating to pay by the hour
A man with a diploma, just for listening.
Churches. Perhaps churches. But to confess there what?
That we used to see ourselves as handsome and noble
Yet later in our place an ugly toad
Half-opens its thick eyelid
And one sees clearly: "That's me."

--Czesław Miłosz


helpeful psa

Hello flisters interested in Japanese things:

My wonderful friend Ricci (riccichan) is moving from Germany to the US (yay!!) to get maaaarried (triple yay!!!!) and is selling off a lot of her books and manga and the like. She has some especially cool stuff like a ton of Kodaka Kazuma doujinshi (Hikaru no Go, Prince of Tennis, Slam Dunk, the Kizuna series Hana to Ryu, etc), several complete Higuri You series (!), and then plenty of other complete Japanese-language series - Aoki&Ayamine, Sanami Matoh, Watase Yuu, etc - as well as various German-translated manga, German books I can't understand, Japanese study materials, etc. If you are interested in these things, or if you know people interested in these things, send them over her way and you/your friend get cool stuff and also, like, facilitate the path of true love and the smooth running thereof. Wouldn't that feel good? :D