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Kylian has never been good at sharing, and Neymar has never been good at staying.
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- English
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Bookmarked by alilsnowflake
13 Oct 2025
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Precipice by YsaX64
Fandoms: 鬼滅の刃 | Demon Slayer: Kimetsu no Yaiba (Anime), 鬼滅の刃 | Demon Slayer: Kimetsu no Yaiba (Manga)
22 Aug 2024
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“I think,” she said, measuring her words. Her mask was still well-held in place, a demure smile dancing on her lips. Her hands rubbed up and down the inside of his thighs, sending a shiver up his spine. “You should learn some manners.”
Bookmarked by alilsnowflake
27 Sep 2025
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Carlos told the world they shared everything. He may be right.
Bookmarked by alilsnowflake
15 Sep 2025
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Sasuke shouldn’t have gotten involved with Konoha politics. He could hardly stand the village as a normal shinobi, and now he constantly feels at the end of his wits. As a desperate attempt of escape, Sasuke visits the library’s isolated Archive every Friday. There, he’s alone — almost. A girl he doesn't recognize shows up every Friday, as well, to read history books and enjoy the quiet. Turns out, she's a member of that new clan that's been giving him trouble, and for some reason History Girl seems bent on meeting Uchiha Sasuke.
Or: Sasuke doesn't know the difference between keeping a secret and leading a girl on.
Bookmarked by alilsnowflake
10 Sep 2025
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Fate is a flickering, ornery thing that can only be known when completely unfolded. For Hinata, her fate is a seal upon her forehead, the scorn of her family, and a marriage to a man she least expects. All of which is indismissable and inescapable. Whatever she was, whatever she could ever be had been determined long ago.
Bookmarked by alilsnowflake
10 Sep 2025
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What had begun as an idle observation among the tour players had transformed with time into an unspoken rule, and then a spoken rule, then a generally incontrovertible fact.
It didn’t start out as an active decision, for Jannik. At first, of course, he wasn’t playing in any finals. Sure, he won a few matches, but the sixth set isn’t for winners. It’s for tournament winners. Champions. And their runners up.Later, when he won, he declined. When he lost, he was declined. No one desired him in that way. Long and lanky. Too quiet. Too cold. Too alien. An outlier. By the time that changed, helped along by a grand slam title and a gucci sponsorship, it was too late.
By that time, Jannik was untouchable.
Poised and professional, pious in his dedication to the game. Aloof, ascendant, and apparently all too alluring as a result.The fact remains. Jannik Sinner doesn't play the sixth set. Because he doesn’t lose.
Of course, there’s one exception.Bookmarked by alilsnowflake
08 Sep 2025
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there's metal humming under your skin (it sounds like a love song) by la clàsica (aimee_ame)
Fandoms: Men's Football RPF
02 Aug 2025
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“Is that…?” Jude stares, disbelieving at the android’s face.
It's one that Jude recognises. From watching Spain’s qualifying matches in the Euros de Máquinas.
“Yes, it’s him.”
“But he’s- why is he in your shipment?”
“They couldn’t fix the damage to his knee. And,” Cama hesitates, then sighs. “He doesn’t turn on anymore.”or,
Jude is a droid mechanic who specialises in repairing android joints. He’s got a lot of empathy for them, but he’ll still recycle their parts if their circuits are dead. He can accept that some damage is impossible to fix.
That is, until Cama arrives with an android that Jude’s never thought he’d see in a shipment of spare parts.Bookmarked by alilsnowflake
01 Sep 2025
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They're just dumb boys having fun, he tells himself. And he knows they're not.
Bookmarked by alilsnowflake
29 Aug 2025
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Cristian tugs on her ponytail. “You still have a year.” She tries to sound light.
“Yeah, but,” Heungmin says, “it’s different. Knowing it’s ending soon.”
And that-that’s a realization that Cristian has been avoiding for a while – that one day, Heungmin is going to pack up all the things in her bedroom and drive off to someplace far away. Somewhere where Cristian can’t reach out and touch her, can’t see her every day, and hear her laugh. She swallows heavily. “Gonna make it the best year ever then. So you remember me forever.”
or
the high school edit
Bookmarked by alilsnowflake
28 Aug 2025
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The uncertainty is maddening: this constant dance between hope and doubt, between seeing signs everywhere and convincing himself he's seeing nothing at all.
or the slow burn sincaraz fic that's been living rent-free in my head
Series
- Part 1 of amor y destino
Bookmarked by alilsnowflake
27 Aug 2025
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There’s a glimpse of short tangled curls sticking through the back of the stranger's cap—a startling russet colour. It makes Carlos think of clay courts, red roofs, of Alicante in spring. The indolent sweetness of orange blossom. For a second, the crashing of surf beyond the cliff could be the sound of his own warm Mediterranean waves.
On reclusive tech billionaire Novak Djokovic's private island, once-in-a-generation player Carlos Alcaraz meets somebody who might change the future of tennis - or his life.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 36,594
- Chapters:
- 3/4
- Collections:
- 1
- Comments:
- 142
- Kudos:
- 249
- Bookmarks:
- 60
- Hits:
- 4,155
Bookmarked by alilsnowflake
25 Aug 2025
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“Cincinnati,” he grinds out, the word ash in his mouth.
“Ah.” Carlos is quiet for a moment, considering.
Bookmarked by alilsnowflake
25 Aug 2025
Bookmarker's Notes
like being in palermo. or you're in your grandma kitchen and she's cooking. you taste the sun rays.
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There is a difference between legends and myths, Carlos’ mother used to say. Myths are parables to explain the timeless unknown. Legends are flesh and blood.
But in them—Novak. Federer. Rafa—Carlos cannot see the difference.They live forever, metronomic and eternal, ghosts that haunt every surface. Grass, clay, hard. Creation myth. Hero's journeys. Nature fables. Childhood fairytales.
That is what Carlos knows of legends and myths and the act of becoming one.
He just never expected that they could be love stories too.
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.modern mythmaking in four slams and a final whisper.
Bookmarked by alilsnowflake
24 Aug 2025
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“I made Rösti,” Jannik says as he prepares their plates. “This is a traditional dish back home, but I figured it might be similar to your tortilla. You know, I still dream about the one your mom cooked us back when I visited you last summer.”
Carlos looks at him for a second, his brows furrowed and a small smile stuck to his lips. It’s hard to know what he’s thinking about. His hands settle around the back of Jannik’s waist and his lips find their way back to his shoulder.
“You know I like you, right?” he mutters, his voice vibrating against Jannik’s skin. “But please, stop comparing everything that has eggs and potatoes in it with tortilla. It’s insulting.”
(jannik kills plants. carlos can’t cook. they love each other anyway.)
Bookmarked by alilsnowflake
18 Aug 2025
Bookmarker's Notes
why do i even love love? oh the image of carlos and janni waiting to be together forever after bt there's no forever after...just janni
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It’s rather a quiet affair. Jannik is so concentrated on alternating between looking at the sky and the screen that Carlos doesn’t even feel awkward for the silence that settles between them. He lays down, puts a hand under his head and stares up at the sky, at the stars, and tries to let the moment seep into his skin, get branded deep in his memory — Jannik’s huffs of breath, the way he clicks his tongue when the thinks, his earthy scent.
Carlos wishes he could touch him.
“What do you usually do in your free time?”
As soon as the sentence leaves Carlos’ mouth, he cringes.
Jannik gives him a strange look. “I look for extraterrestrial life. But you know that.”
Bookmarked by alilsnowflake
11 Aug 2025
Bookmarker's Notes
the ctest mpst whimsical fic ever. like saiki k.
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Years later, Jannik often thought back to the day when he first met Carlos Alcaraz, because perhaps the most interesting thing about it all was that their first meeting wasn't so earth-shattering. Jannik didn't feel like the ground had been pulled out from under his feet, and there weren't even butterflies in his belly. He simply turned around and found the young boy in the corner of the burning red clay court, who he had no idea at the time would change his whole life.
He was a lanky, short boy, with dark brown curls falling from his forehead, clutching in his hand a racket that might have been too heavy for him at the time. He flicked his eyes back and forth, as if he didn't believe where he was at first. For a moment, their eyes met. Carlos smiled broadly and waved boldly at him, as if they were ancient friends, not two strangers whose only thing in common was a racket in their hands. Jannik may or may not have waved at him, but he remembered that he immediately looked down at his shoes, red with clay and did not dare to look at the boy again.
Bookmarked by alilsnowflake
11 Aug 2025
Bookmarker's Notes
jannik is so mean and immature to carlos and repressed in this au bt they meant so much to e/o
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Sometimes he wonders how others manage to exist next to Carlos, how they’re not getting burned by the brightness and earnestness of his entire personality. One by one they should be falling into ruin, he thinks, like Icarus when he flew too close to the sun.
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or: the enemies to lovers sincaraz x f1 au no one knew they needed, but i desperately wanted to write.
Bookmarked by alilsnowflake
10 Aug 2025
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It stung because the team had not said a word to Jannik, not even a performative slap on the wrist, and it stung more knowing that Jack couldn’t have pulled off something like that, something against the golden boy of the tifosi and Ferrari, Italy’s own reincarnation of Jesus. But the thing that pierced into Jack's heart like sharpened rusty nails was that Jannik knew. Jannik knew how much it meant to him and he still did it.
The F1 Scuderia Ferrari teammates AU
Series
- Part 1 of illicit affairs
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 3,025
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Collections:
- 1
- Comments:
- 11
- Kudos:
- 54
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- 5
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- 639
Bookmarked by alilsnowflake
09 Aug 2025
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Carlos flinches, the remnants of a faint smile faltering at the edges. “Jannik—”
“Enjoy your win, Carlos. You earned it.”
He dresses quickly, movements clipped, damp skin protesting against fabric. When he zips up the bag, his fingers tremble. He hopes Carlos doesn’t notice.
“You don’t have to pretend we’re friends,” he says. “We’re not. Remember?”
He walks past him without waiting for a reply, shoulders stiff, head bowed. Leaves Carlos standing in the silence, holding nothing but the echo of his name.Defeat he can live with. Ache he cannot. After Paris, Jannik tries to bury both. But silence frays into longing, and every path — the court, the crowd, the quiet of his hotel room — seems to lead him back to Carlos.
Bookmarked by alilsnowflake
07 Aug 2025
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Jannik hits a clean shot, a lashing forehand that lands the ball deep in the ad court, grazing the line and lifting a wisp of white off the grass. The kick of the topspin dizzies the ball into the air. Carlos, out of position, jumps and lunges toward it, throwing all of his weight forward.
Jannik can tell he’s going to miss. He’s already turning to his team, one fist raised, when the ball whizzes past Carlos’s outstretched racket.
He doesn’t see Carlos land. He doesn’t see him collapse into the dirt.
He hears a crack, like a heavy tree branch, snapping in a windstorm.
He only looks back when Carlos starts screaming.
Bookmarked by alilsnowflake
07 Aug 2025