#Period of Phil. Lit. in English

[nessemfernando]

Remarkable Filipino writers during the Period Philippine Literature in English

Manuel Viray 1917-1997

Manuel Viray was born in the province of Pangasinan, in the Philippines.

Mr. Viray was a poet, an educator, short story writer and an essayist. He taught creative writing and literary criticism in universities in Manila, Philippines.

He served as a foreign service official in the Philippines Embassies in several countries, including the United States from 1955 to 1973. His last post was Philippines Ambassador to Cambodia, until Phnom Penh fell to the Khmer Rouge.

:findagrave.com

Maximo Ramos 1910-

Maximo Dumlao Ramos led a triple life as teacher, editor, and writer for over 45 years. He was descended from the Dumlao and Ramos farming folk of Paoay, llocos Norte, who pioneered in Southern Zambales early in the 19th century. His first published work would subsequently be about folk beliefs in San Narciso, Zambales.  In later work, he explored stories from his childhood in Boyhood in Monsoon Country. He had a B.S.E. from the University of the Philippines (1934), an A.M. from Indiana University ( 1948) where he did course work under Stith Thompson, a TESL from the University of California (1963) where he profited from the tutelage of Wayland D. Hand, Director of UCLA’s Center for the Study of Comparative Folklore and Mythology from 1961-1974. Ramos received his Ph.D. from the University of the Philippines (1965) for his seminal work The Creatures of Philippine Lower Mythology.

:www.swangproject.com

[lonelyasawhisper]

If Queen Won't, Brian May

Sylvie Simmons, Creem, 1st March 1984

SO HERE I am back in the giant Ajax can on Vine Street and waiting for Brian May. I look at my watch; the little hand and the big hand are sticking up like a peace sign; almost noon and it's hard to believe I'm up at this ungodly hour after last night's festivities, let alone the star. (Capitol threw a party to welcome Queen into the Ajax Can family — Elektra won't be getting The Works when it comes out early next year. There were hors d'oeuvres, aperitifs, and talking of a pair of teeths, Freddie Mercury, Roger Taylor, John Deacon and Brian May.) This is not the usual fluorescent-lit room where Duran Duran posters smirk cheekbonely from the walls. This is a cozy chamber tucked around the back somewhere, through convoluted corridors and up and down staircases — couldn't find it again even if you threatened me with a night at Plato's with Steve Perry — dark and small as a confession box...

I confess! I know I shouldn't; I know there's a reputation to consider; I know Mötley Crüe told me just the other day that they're "the opposite" of this band. But I LIKE QUEEN. There, I've said it. Not only do I have all their albums (except Hot Space; I'm not that daft) but I sing 'Bohemian Rhapsody' in its entirety at the slightest provocation. And the Brian May-penned 'Flash' is probably the best sci-fi theme tune in the Universe.

Though Brian may not agree. For one, the title track on the first album he's ever done outside of Queen just happens to be a sci-fi theme tune called 'Star Fleet'; for another he's so modest and understated you virtually have to beat the bloke with rubber truncheons to get him to admit that Queen are pretty big.

Anyway, the Star Fleet Project is a mini album — as May's own liner notes say, it's "not your normal kind of album; not an album which has been 'thoughtfully pieced together by a coordinated band as a balanced and polished listening experience.' Not a Queen album." Certainly isn't. All three songs — 'Star Fleet', the theme from a Japanese Saturday morning sci-fi program that shows on English TV that Brian got hooked on thanks to his young son Jimmy, 'Let Me Out', a song Brian wrote for Queen years ago that was never used, and 'Blues Breaker', dedicated to Eric Clapton, the man whose axe-work with Cream inspired a 15-year-old May to build his own electric guitar — were recorded over a two-day period back in April during a break from the year-around Queen boxing match. At loose ends, Brian called up some music friends in Los Angeles and jammed. Yes — jammed. What they used to do in the old days when musicians spent more time with each other than their accountants. Anyway, after much thought — and a bit of persuasion from Heavy Pettin', a British rock band he was producing on the side who heard the tapes and drooled — and more red tape, the jamming session got put out as pure and untouched as Michael Jackson, and credited to Brian May And Friends. His friends? Neighbor Alan Gratzer of REO Speedwagon, Phil Chen, ex-Rod Stewart bassist, Fred Mandel, the former Alice Cooper member who showed up on Queen's last tour, and on co-lead, Eddie Van Halen. (The two met when Brian caught Van Halen's set on a Black Sabbath tour and got friendlier when they met up again in Germany and confessed to being mutual fans.)

Brian May has just walked into the chamber, right on time. He's tall, got the same hairdo he's had for years, an intent expression on his face and a soft, very English voice.

"We had some time off from the group which we forced on ourselves," he's saying about why he's just done a record that sounds like it could have been made any time in the past 11 years Queen's been together. "We felt, Queen, that we'd got too close to each other and we needed a break. We all do different things — Roger's been making an album, Freddie's been doing stuff with Michael Jackson, John's been doing all kinds of stuff with computers and weird machines, and I thought, 'Why don't I do something?' Most of my favorite musicians were around L.A. where I was, and they all said 'yeah, great, let's go and do it.' Which really surprised me; I thought people would say yeah great, but we're busy.' So I booked the Record Plant and we went in and tried it, and it worked out better than I could ever have dreamed. One of the best times of my life, really."

He doesn't have too many friends in the business, he says. "They are pretty well my best friends, but also some of my favorite players." They're also veterans of some of the most commercially successful, richest mainstream rock bands around. By doing this project, did they reckon they'd show us they weren't in it for the money alone?

"I don't think anything like that was in our minds. There was never any talk of it coming out to begin with — it was just to be in there playing really, and I was quite prepared to leave it that way. Possibly to prove something to myself — that I could play with other musicians and enjoy it, and make something worthwhile."

If he's saying Queen hasn't been making anything worthwhile lately, there's a lot of people who couldn't agree more. Like Hot Space frinstance.

"There's a lot about Hot Space I didn't like. But at the same time," Brian covers himself, "it was probably, in retrospect, the right thing to do at the time, because we had to investigate all those different avenues and get all those bits of R&B influence out of our systems. No, part of the problem with us, the group, was we got so close to each other that familiarity breeds contempt, and we didn't like the way each other played anymore. That was one of the things that happened six months ago. And now, having got outside it and seen a lot of other people. I realize that the other three are pretty good. And I think they've had the same experience. We appreciate each other a bit more now. After this record I came back to the group much fresher. You get to understand how other people play, and you realize that everybody has their own style, and I found that I was a bit more patient with John and Roger and Freddie. Also what I got from stepping outside was realizing what other people think of us as individuals and as a group."

And did he kill himself? "Well, they thought we were pretty good — which surprised me!" He obviously didn't get to poll the people who dismiss Queen as a pretentious sort of band. Brian chuckles. And this Star Fleet Project has to be one of the most unpretentious records a superstar musician has ever made, casually put together and released without the usual sheen and polish a Queen album goes through before seeing the light of day.

"Well it is very different, and that's part of why it was a release for me. I wouldn't agree with you that Queen are pretentious, but I know what you mean. Queen are a group who've always been — everything has to be perfect before it gets out. It's worked on and worked on and argued about and talked about and torn to bits and put back together. We work to keep the spontaneity in there, but nevertheless it was nice in this case to do something which worked immediately, the adrenalin from the fact you'd never played with these people before, and everyone feeling good. I had no desire to interfere with it."

Has Queen lost its excitement? When you've got so many followers and so much success that you can even put out an album like Hot Space and it sells, when you can flash a credit card and get a record co. employee to go out and charge up anything your little heart desires, doesn't it all get a bit boring?

"It's funny you should say that because that never goes through my mind. I certainly don't feel we could do anything. For instance, last night at the party — I suppose everyone's very up about a new deal and a new album, but I was very depressed underneath it all really because what I think about is still the music. And we'd just had a play-back to the record company, and I was really desperately unhappy about the way it sounded. And I couldn't even think about we're a huge rock group, all the things you're saying. All I could think about was I'd hated what I'd heard and I was ashamed of it. I don't really think about what Queen looks like to the outside world very much. I think about what it feels like. It has had its good moments and I think we can play some good stuff; but it also has some really awful moments."

A lot of the Outside World who do think about Queen probably think it's Freddie's band. He thinks of a direction, everyone fights a bit, but generally follow meekly behind. True?

"It's a continual fight, because we all have very definite ideas of what direction we want to go in, and none of them are the same. It's a continual battle and it's very democratic and it's very painful. Most of the time when we're recording, it's hell. You have this constant dividing line between being up and positive about what you're doing, and the other side is that you may be trying to push what you want down someone else's throat, and maybe the other three will take it for a little while but in the end they'll say, 'No, this is rubbish, we hate it, stop pushing.' And that's what's happened a lot.

"I had a very clear idea in my head of what I wanted [the new Queen album] to be. It's an oversimplification, but I wanted it to be more of a rock album. But I obviously pushed too hard in the early days, and everyone got very angry with me and said 'Look, stop. Don't tell us what to play.' And then you take three steps back and try and work it out again. That's happened with all of us. We all feel that suddenly we can see a path ahead and the other three can't see it at all, and that makes it really hard.

"The plus of it is that after you've had your arguments and found an intermediate course at least you've already been through a vast political process, and the stuff which does come out has been through a gigantic sieve. So I think in the end you come out with stuff which is a real group product, and it's better than any of us could do as a solo artist. I honestly think that, and that's why I'm still in Queen. I think the group is still better than any of its component parts."

So is the next Queen album going to be a rock album? (Bumped into Roger Taylor at the party and he slurred that it was definitely "very heavy — one side of the album especially will definitely give you brain damage")

"So far," nods Brian, "I think, in spite of all the shouting, it is."

When a group member leaves the fold to do his first album, it's usually "OK, here I am. Me, the Star." But Star Fleet isn't a flashy guitar album or ego showcase. What gives?

"I don't think I am a flashy kind of person really. When I come to do a solo album — maybe one day I will — I've no idea what it will be like. This isn't it. This is just an event of some people having fun together, and that's the way it should be looked at. I don't know what is me, if that's what you're asking. That's one of the difficulties I've had in thinking about a solo album. Because on the one hand I would like to do all heavy stuff, because I don't feel I've got enough outlet for the heavy stuff in Queen; on the other hand I'd like to do some guitar arrangements and continue the guitar-orchestra direction, which again we've sort of left alone for a while in the group. Then again I like to sing songs that have a lot of personal feeling for me, which also sometimes doesn't fit into the group framework."

Hasn't he ever had the temptation to leap out onstage, push Freddie into the wings and grab the limelight, just once?

"No, I'm very happy with how it is. I get my bit to do. As you say, I can be flash for a while and then blend into the group, and I'm very content with that."

That's the one thing Brian and Eddie Van Halen have in common. They're both pretty low profile guitarists in bands with the most outrageously flashy frontmen on earth. Do they feel any kinship there?

"Yes, a lot. There are parallels, obviously. The whole business of what roles people play in groups is something which interests me very much for its own sake, because you do find that the bass player is always a certain kind, the guitarist is usually a certain kind of person. I don't know whether it's the selection process or whether it's an environmental change process [I forgot to mention; he has a degree in physics!] — you can see those elements in the component parts of groups. Guitarists do tend to be like that, people who feel they have a lot to say but don't really want to be in the center of the stage doing it; they want to be at the side doing their bit and enjoying it and getting into it and not having the responsibility for what the singer does."

And if you're expecting any guitar duels on this album, forget it. Instead of playing superstars, trying to outdo the last lick, they're like a couple of polite gentlemen going "After you"; "No, after you."

"I think we're very alike, and there's no feeling of competition there because we both love what the other person is doing. Particularly in my case. My first reaction to seeing Edward was I didn't want to play with him because he's so great. And then my second reaction was I wanted to pick up the guitar and play with him. Because we're so different in playing, but we're very alike in the way we think. There's no duel there, and I'm glad you said that because I was frightened people would think Guitar Battle kind of rubbish. Just people enjoying each other's company really. And it's not just me and Edward — it's me and Alan and Philip and Fred. We were all in there, and it was a good interaction all round.

"I still think, sometimes, am I being foolish putting this out? But then every time I listen to it I get this great feeling about it. It's so real and live and personal that I hope that other people will get that feeling about it."

With all the members of Queen going their separate ways, there's always the risk that they might forget to get back together again. Does Queen still feel like a real band?

"It does again now. There have been a few crises in our history, and one of them was about six months ago, when we could have easily said, 'Look, we hate each other, let's forget it.' And it almost was that. But instead we said 'look, we're all getting very intense with each other because we haven't had a break for ages, and we've been in this endless make-an-album-tour-the-world-make-an-album cycle; so let's get out of it for a while and maybe we'll appreciate each other.' And it's worked pretty well. We got back together and we feel like a real band again."

Retrieved from The Creem Archive

[icequeenjules26]

Digging in the sand, looking for Gold

Summary: When Dan's Beach-Volleyball partner retires, he's not sure how to continue his career. By coincidence he meets the aspiring Youngster Sascha, his best friend Marcelo and physiotherapist Phil, who shakes believes and rules Dan has lived by for all of his life. Suddenly, Dan's life becomes a lot more complicated...

Word Count: 11,8k

Tags: Strangers to lovers, Slow Burn, Fluff, a bit of angst

A/n: This is my first fic for this year's @phandomreversebang! Art is by @penisdinosaur, beta'd by @rubberbandx, big thank you to both of them!

Read on AO3

For as long as Dan could remember, sand was everywhere. 

  Even when he wasn’t currently on court, when he was training in the weights room or running his laps on track, jogging in the morning, even on vacations - there was always sand. He could feel it in his clothes when he moved, no matter if he had actually worn them on court yet or not. He could see - hear it trickling out of his hair when he shook his head, even right after a shower. There was sand at the bottom of every bag he owned, used for training or not - it didn’t matter. 

  Sand was his everlasting companion, like family members - they were always there, and sometimes they showed up out of nowhere even when you definitely did not want them to.

  But even though sandy clothes or bags usually meant displeasure to normal people, like an itch they couldn’t scratch, to Dan it was comforting - it was home. It was that little piece of his life that he brought everywhere, that he couldn’t shake even if he wanted to; it was his sign of belonging. Whenever he felt foreign, strange, he’d see a few grains of sand, like the Universe showing him You’re not alone. You belong.

  Other people would look at him funnily whenever he mentioned it and his own rationality told him how absolutely insane it sounded, but it didn’t matter. It was the way he felt.

  As long as the sand would follow him, he would be okay. 

  That’s why his partner’s retirement hit him even harder. Sure, he could search for a new partner, could try to find someone else he had this on court connection with, someone who knew what he’d do before he knew himself - but not only the improbability of that was a big dampener. They were a Team , him and Markus, had always been; all the way from the sightings matches in their youth to where they were now: training for Olympia. Even though  it was still a long way, and if he wanted to, Dan knew he could do it… It was more the way there that made Dan question if it was even worth the effort. 

  It was his life’s dream. It was everything he’d ever worked for, the only thing he’d ever wanted to achieve. He’d never cared much about education, graduations or even degrees. He had dedicated his life to this sport, had given it his all for several years - just to get thrown off course basically only moments before achievement.

  He didn’t blame Markus for any of it, obviously. He had torn the front ligament in his right knee, which would take several months to recover from, and had several other projects in the making, a musical career to fall back to and an amazing husband that supported him every step along the way. 

  He wasn’t like Dan. 

  Dan had nothing but his goal - he was nothing but his goal. 

  He drank, breathed, lived this sport, and he wouldn’t have quit had he been the one getting injured - but he wasn’t, and finding a perfect partner was harder than recovering from an injury. Chances were he’d never find anyone else who understood him on court like Markus did.

  So, naturally, the situation hit Dan like a brick wall and metaphorically had him lying in a ditch somewhere for several weeks. He put off looking through the documents of the aspirants his trainer had sent him, just flipped through them halfheartedly, barely noticing what he saw before he gave up and frustratedly threw them in the vague direction of his desk.

  He slumped around at home, missed training sessions and basically stopped strength training altogether. He even shortened his morning and evening runs. Only in the night, when the sun sunk below the horizon and normal people went to sleep, all the energy he hadn’t used over the day caught up with him; he became agitated and restless until he finally gave in and went for a jog. 

  It was during one of those midnight runs that he met Sascha. 

  Dan was running through the park a few blocks from his apartment, letting the night air cool his skin and ruffle his wild locks. As usual, he didn’t pay much attention to where he was going - nor did he even look. His eyes were up in the clouds, watching them as they drifted by, getting illuminated by the almost full moon standing proudly up in the sky. He knew this park like the back of his hand, could probably run his way through with closed eyes and covered ears, so he had started on his usual route and let his feet do the rest. 

  Panic ’s This is Gospel just started playing when there was a strange cracking noise that had Dan fearing for his headphones - he’d literally justbought new ones, they couldn’t seriously be broken again already?! - then something colliding with him mid-step and suddenly, he found himself sitting on his ass.

  For a second he was completely disoriented, unable to even distinguish between up and down, just sat there, blinking like an idiot.  Then his brain caught up with his body, his sight cleared and he could make out a figure standing over him. “Oh my god! I’m so sorry. Fuck, I didn’t look where I was going -” A male voice started rambling and a hand reached out to help Dan up. 

  Dan took the offered hand and got pulled to his feet. The first thing he noticed was the height difference - which was basically nonexistent. The guy was tall , almost as tall as Dan, which said something, and fairly athletically built. “Hi, nice to meet you - I’m Sascha.” 

  That’s how it all started - somehow it spiraled from there. 

Sascha insisted to buy Dan a drink for the inconvenience, even though it was as much Dan’s fault as it was his, at least in Dan’s book. They started talking, and it didn’t take Dan too long realize he was a Beach Volleyball player like himself. When he asked about a partner Sascha just shrugged and told him he hadn’t found the perfect one yet - and a plan started building in Dan’s head. 

  Half an hour later they had a training session scheduled for the next day, numbers exchanged and on his way home, Dan’s steps felt a lot lighter. 

  The training went even better than anticipated. From the first minutes on court Dan understood Sascha and vice versa, and Dan had rarely felt this connected to a person that wasn’t Markus on an athletic level. Sascha was a few years younger than Dan and not officially seeking a partner, so he hadn’t been among the documents Dan had gotten from his trainer, but he was adamant to try out this partnership, wherever it would lead them. 

  Dan’s trainer met with Sascha’s and it was settled - they’d be going through a month long trial and training period, but Dan already knew this partnership was what he’d been searching for. 

  It didn’t take too long to discover his new partner didn’t only come with fresh energy and new plans, no - he also came with a bunch of associates. There was Mischa, his older brother and one of Dan’s biggest rivals since forever, almost immediately offering to bury all bad feelings and try to be friends, which Dan agreed on without a second thought. There was Marcelo, Sascha’s best friend and training partner - also the one Sascha gazed at whenever he thought no one was looking, and Dan made a mental note to ask him about it as soon as a foundation of trust had been built. 

  And last but not least, there was Phil - tall and handsome Phil, with a black quiff and striking blue eyes and a smile that basically lit up the room. He was Sascha’s physiotherapist and tested Dan’s restrain to the max. 

  Dan’s first rule had always been no dating - no distractions on his way to gold. For years it had held up; no relationships, only sex, no strings attached, but within days Dan could tell upholding that rule would only get harder with Phil around. 

  Overall the group was so tightly knitted that Dan wondered if they’d even find room for him. He had always been somewhat of a lone wolf, but something about them made Dan want to belong . 

  And no, it was not the fact that Phil was too hot for his own good and Dan regularly forgot his own name when he looked at him. Not at all. 

  Well, at least not solely that… 

  ___

  For some time things were calm.

  Training with Sascha was going well, great even. The connection on court Dan had felt from the very first minute wasn’t wavering, and he was more than happy about having found a new partner that seemed to fit even better than the last one. He even felt like he finally got somewhere with the group - they started inviting him to outings, Marcelo included him in jokes and Phil had seemingly made it his goal to make Dan lost for words any chance he got.  Only Sascha seemed still a bit wary of him - at least in the group. He was incredibly protective of them, even though he was the youngest, and had trouble trusting Dan for a reason that was beyond his imagination. When Dan had asked Phil about it, he’d smirked and told him it was just a matter of time, but he was getting more and more agitated.

  About two weeks after Dan and Sascha started playing together, the group talked about going to a nearby pub to celebrate something, but Dan hadn’t paid much attention since he hadn’t expected to be invited. 

  As he made his way to the locker room, Phil surprised him by suddenly appearing in front of him, looking more than excited. “Dan! We’re going out for a couple of beers. Wanna come?”

  For a few seconds Dan just stood there, stunned, blinking at Phil like he’d spoken latin instead of english. He risked a look at Sascha and Marcelo to confirm - while Sascha looked a bit miffed he still smiled kindly and Marcelo nodded invitingly. “I - I mean - Sure,” he stuttered out and Phil’s pale blue eyes shined so brightly that for a second, Dan was blinded.

  About half an hour later they arrived at the pub and placed orders for the first round of beer. Dan, still not sure what the occasion was, opened up the conversation. “So - what are we celebrating?” he asked and the table had mixed reactions. While Marcelo’s previous wide smile seemed to dim a bit - Dan was convinced that man would probably smile in the face of death, he’d never seen him not smiling - there was a wide grin on Phil’s face and Sascha… 

  Dan couldn’t believe his eyes. Was he really blushing ? What was happening ?

  It was Phil who took it upon himself to catch Dan up to speed. “So, a few years ago -” 

  “I was really young!” Sascha interjected, and there was definitely a red tint there. Dan smirked. That seemed promising. 

  “He had this crazy girlfriend. Like - she was completely nuts. She was... ” Phil traded off.

  “Insane!” Marcelo provided, seemingly trying to be helpful, and Phil chuckled. “Not what I was searching for, but thanks, Marcelo.” 

  Both grinned at each other with a side glance at Sascha, who stared at the beer in his hand, cheeks still red. 

  “Anyways, Marcelo is right. She was jealous as fuck, controlled him any step he took, posted private pictures of him online, that sort of thing,” Phil said, moving his index finger in circles around his temple, emphasising his words. He waited for Dan to nod in understanding before he continued. “But he just let her. Like an idiot.” He snickered, Marcelo nodded and Sascha acted scandalized, calling out an offended hey! that the other two ignored.

  “He -” Phil started up again, but Sascha interrupted him again. “I thought I loved her!” he tried to defend himself, seeking help with Dan.  He just chuckled. “What happened?” he asked with a raised eyebrow. 

  “I’d bug him about it for weeks , but nothing happened. He found excuses for her over and over again and I was so tired of it -”

  “And then I knocked some sense into him!” Marcelo heckled, obviously proud of himself, and Phil shot him an unimpressed look. “Can’t a guy finish a story in peace around here?!” he asked and the rest chuckled. 

  “But yeah, Marcelo’s about right. They weren’t that close at the time, it was when Marcelo was still active, but Sascha talked to Marcelo during his strength training and when he came to his appointment a few hours afterwards he told me he wanted to break up with her. And that’s the story of how Sascha finally broke up with his crazy ex.” Phil’s smile was wide and his eyes bright, and Dan struggled not to loose focus. He’s fucking adorable… He silenced his own brain. Shush! Not gonna happen!

  “Since then we come together at that joyous day to celebrate,” Marcelo explained and Dan just couldn’t help but laugh. “That’s quite the story,” he pointed out and the rest chuckled. 

  “You won’t get bored around us, I promise,” Phil said and caught his eyes. “I believe you,” he answered, not looking away, lost in the other’s blue irises, like he was trapped in a kaleidoscope of blue and gold and green.

Goddamnit .

  When he finally managed to break the spell and avert Phil’s eyes before they’d suck him in yet again, Sascha gave him a somewhat satisfied, somewhat encouraging look, and this time, it was Dan’s turn to blush. This group would be the death of him, he was almost certain already. 

  After that incident, Sascha’s wariness decreased, which made it even harder for Dan to avoid Phil and the temptation he caused, but at least it gave him a lot more confidence. Sascha was his one way ticket to gold, and he intended to use it. If he’d become friends with the guy on the way there - even better. 

  Since his weeks of doing basically nothing Dan had kept to his midnight routine of going for a run in the park next to his house. 

  The problem, Dan mused as he jogged along the familiar path, was probably that they were similar in a lot of ways, in their drive for success and in the fact that originally, they were lone wolves. Dan couldn’t know what had happened, how Sascha had come to such a tightly knitted group of friends around him, but it shone through in every movement he made that he once hadn’t had a lot of friends - if any at all. Sure, he had a brother, but Dan could tell from his own experience that bloodlines didn’t form friendships of their own. Now Sascha and Mischa seemed close, but who knew what had lead them there?

  Dan wanted to know more about them, he realized. He was the most interested in Phil, he’d admitted that much to himself already, but he’d closed that door for himself, shut it forcefully and locked it as often as he could - and surprisingly, the others didn’t leave him cold either. Originally, Sascha had been supposed to be his way to reach his goal, but now he - all of them - had become more. He had a feeling they could be great friends - if he’d just let them. 

  Completely lost in thoughts, Dan continued down his usual route, contemplating what to do about the whole Sascha situation. There was something wrong with the guy, something laying heavy on his heart, but he had no clue what exactly. He knew there had to be something he could do - the question was what . He wasn’t really skilled in handling other people, had spent his life refraining from relationships that would only serve as distractions for his main goal. 

  Now, though, it seemed different - a lot was different. Sure, he had no plans on getting a relationship - No, not even with Phil! - but what about friendships? To play his best he had to be open with his teammate, to let him in and truly become a team, he knew that now. But how was he supposed to do that when his teammate obviously hadn’t come to the same conclusion yet? 

  A voice ripped him out of his thoughts mid-step. He came to a slithering halt, looking up and finding himself just a few centimeters away from someone else - someone he identified as Sascha within seconds.

  “Sascha!” he got out between gasps, “What are you doing here?”

  There was a smirk on Sascha’s face as Dan struggled to catch his breath, and he had to stifle a grumble. Stupid youngsters and their stupid fitness.

  “You okay?” Sascha asked, smirk still in place. Dan shot him an intimidating look, but Sascha only grinned. The wild, dirty blonde locks on his head were hardly contained by the headband he had on and stuck out left and right. His striking green eyes shone even more in the pale moonlight and their bright colour reminded him of someone else - for a second, the eyes were blue as the sky on a sunny day, with a black quiff framing a beautiful face, coming closer towards Dan, closer and closer until his lips finally… 

  No! Forget it! 

  Then Sascha snickered again and Dan’s vision of Phil shattered like a mirror. He shook his head quickly, trying to order his thoughts and get back to reality, while Sascha still observed him with a smirk. Dan shot him another look but again, Sascha seemed entirely unimpressed. 

  He sighed. “I’m fine,” he grumbled, finally focussing on the situation at hand. “So what are you doing here?”

  “What do you think I’m doing in a park in the middle of the night in my running clothes?” He raised an eyebrow, then: “I’m about to rob a bank, obviously.” 

  For a second, Dan just stared blankly, desperately trying to hold in a laugh. It wasn’t even that funny, he wouldn’t - then his eyes met Sascha’s and he lost all restrain. He broke out laughing, so loudly it scared up some birds in the area that flew away with irritated squawks.

  That was the start of joint jogging sessions at night and an unforeseeable friendship. They grew closer every day, and Dan was glad Sascha seemed to open up to him more. He trusted him with his group of friends, invited him to hang out with them, and sometimes, when they were alone, Dan could see that he was moments away from talking to him - truly talking. It was obvious Sascha had a lot on his mind, in his heart; and it was also obvious that for some reason, he didn’t think he could talk to the others about it. But there was still something holding him back, something that kept him from talking to Dan about it, and Dan didn’t know what to do to get him to talk. So he waited. 

  Their trial period ended without acknowledgement. No one even talked about breaking off their partnership - as a matter of fact, Dan forgot about the deadline completely until a month later. He and Sascha were training together for two months at this point, and while on one hand, the training went by so fast he couldn’t believe it had already been two months, on the other hand it felt like they’d been partners forever. 

  Sure, Dan loved his sport, loved the sand, playing and giving it his all, but training had still tended to stretch out and drag - at least before Sascha. Now, sessions were filled with laughter and jokes, small pranks and friendly competitions; with Marcelo and Phil sitting on the sidelines cheering them on and clapping. Sometimes, Mischa was there, obviously impressed with the progress they made, and even Dan’s trainer basically forgot to nag half the time, silently watching instead, in awe about their teamwork.

  Phil’s part in Dan’s life became bigger the more he was around all of them, and he shook Dan’s beliefs to the core. He distracted himself with the mystery around Sascha, with training and group outings, where he tried to keep more to the others, but it got harder by the second to resist. He was pretty sure Phil was interested - he kept flirting, leaning into Dan’s personal space or placing a hand on his thigh voluntarily - so Dan was glad he wasn’t required to spent a lot of time alone with Phil. His restrains slowly started to run thin, and he did not want to push his luck any further.

  The partnership between Dan and Sascha continued growing. They started with strategy meetings in preparation for their first tournament together. They played a friendly match against Mischa and his partner which they won by far, and work progressed even faster than anticipated. Sascha still kept silent about his problems, but as he became more familiar with him and their group Dan at least gained enough insight to observe and draw reasonable conclusions. 

  One night they were out bowling, Dan, Phil, Sascha and Marcelo; and while he spent the most time conversing with Phil - damn the guy for being interested in the same things as Dan, how dare he? - Dan really paid attention to the way the group worked. While trying not to focus on Phil leaning into him with his hand on Dan’s knee, he noticed how often Sascha and Marcelo would look at each other when they thought the other wasn’t looking. How they always seemed to touch in one way or the other. How they sat so close there was no room between them even though it wasn’t necessary, and how many inside jokes they had.

  Marcelo and Phil on the other hand were a lot closer than Dan had first anticipated. They shared looks sometimes, like they were conversing wordlessly, and when Marcelo hesitated in his movements or speech - usually because Sascha came close to him, or touched him, or laughed particularly brightly - Phil would immediately step in and try to distract from it. 

  All that only served to raise more questions for Dan. It seemed clear to him that Sascha and Marcelo had feelings for each other, but didn’t act on it; and Dan simply couldn’t get behind the reasons. And that, Dan realized, might’ve even been the reason Sascha had been wary of him. He made a mental note to ask Phil about it - which brought him to a whole other problem. 

  Phil, hot, precious Phil was testing Dan to the max. Most of the times it seemed obvious he was flirting with Dan, dropping hints that he was single and searching while complimenting him, leaning forward and suspiciously into Dan’s space. He grinned at Dan with that honest, open smile of his, probably aware of the fact that it made Dan’s knees go weak. He even asked Dan if he needed treatment, being a physiotherapist and all, and after some hesitance, Dan agreed to make a plan quite similar to the one Sascha had, with regular appointments. 

  In summary: Dan’s life did not become any easier.

_____

  It was during one of those appointments that Dan finally decided to ask Phil for help to unravel the mystery around Sascha. 

  It had been a particularly weird training. Sascha had had obvious trouble concentrating; he was occupied with looking up at the stands where Marcelo was sitting instead of tactic training. He continued to sigh, but whenever Dan would bring it up, he’d say it was nothing. 

  Dan was fed up with it. 

  So, while he was lying on the treatment couch, Phil’s hands kneading his muscles and therefore in desperate need of a distraction anyways, he just blurted it out. “What’s up with Sascha and Marcelo?”

  The hands on his back stilled for a moment and Phil took a deep breath. He continued the treatment when he’d let it out slowly, but didn’t say anything, and Dan became worried. Had he said something wrong?

  When he’d finally worked up the nerve to apologize - for what, he had no clue, but there had to be something - Phil spoke up again. “As much as I want to,” he said with utter sincerity, “It’s not my secret to tell.” The utter defeat in his voice made Dan’s heart hurt for him. He just wanted his friends to be happy, Dan realized, but was about as powerless as Dan was. 

  “Okay,” he croaked and they didn’t talk about it again. 

  Dan would have to go straight to the source.

  ___

  For around two months not much changed. Dan gradually affiliated into the group, he continued to withstand the temptation that Phil posed, just Sascha’s unceasing silence still had Dan worried. 

  At least until the international beach volleyball association - IBVA in short - uploaded one of their “behind the scenes” videos to their Youtube channel.

  Usually, Dan didn’t pay much attention to the videos they uploaded. In all honesty, he followed their channel more out of guilt than anything else. Just this time, he’d anticipated that video: in their catching up with... series they interviewed former athletes that had retired from the sport for one reason or the other. Athletes… Like Marcelo. 

  Marcelo had been practicing the sport for over ten years until he had won gold at the olympics for the second time, when he had decided to retire; him and Sascha had already been friends at that point. Now he recently turned thirty and worked with different TV Stations broadcasting beach volleyball tournaments, allowing him to travel around with Sascha and the others. The IBVA had interviewed him a week ago, and he’d told the others to tune in when it came out. 

  The first few minutes was nothing too important, just about Marcelo’s life shortly after his career, how he was handling retirement and if he missed the sports. Then they reached the present, and with it, Sascha - a promising youngster of only 22 years who’s recent switch of partners had caused a lot of frenzy in the community. 

  Marcelo breached upon the topic with nonexistent ease, with all the awkwardness he held, but the interviewer ate it up. She dug deeper about Sascha, how he was doing, how close the two were. 

  That’s when he spoke the sentence that had Dan hurting for Sascha. “Yeah, Sascha is my best friend. Like the little brother I never had, you know? I wouldn’t want to do without him for the world.”

  He paused the video out of pure panic - even though Sascha wasn’t even in the room - and for a moment, the world seemed to stop, halting in its rotation to give Dan a moment to grieve for the happiness of a friend that had become so dear to him. He couldn’t believe Marcelo just said that - had he no idea how Sascha felt? Did he not care? And what about his own feelings? Dan would’ve bet all his money on Marcelo having feelings for Sascha as well.

  Yet again more questions appeared and this time, Dan was more than dumbfounded. He’d never expected this to come out of this interview. 

  It took Dan minutes to calm down enough to continue watching the video, but no more important things happened. They moved on from the topic Sascha fairly quickly after; Marcelo said a few words about Dan and how well they worked together, with some kind of dull shimmer in his eyes that Dan just couldn’t decipher, then it was mostly about the sport itself and other contestants in the upcoming tournament. 

  When the video was over Dan sat in silence, staring at the still illuminated screen of his laptop for multiple moments, then he took a deep breath and got up. He had some strength training to do before he met up with Sascha for their nightly jogging session. 

  ___

  When Dan arrived at their usual meetup-point Sascha was not there yet. By itself, that wasn’t a big deal since he tended to be always late for literally everything, but after the video it had Dan a bit worried. Sascha was like Dan in a lot of things - like the fact that he tended to work twice as hard whenever something bad happened. He concentrated on work to not think about his problems. Dan could truly relate. 

  For almost ten minutes Dan waited relatively calm. Then he became increasingly worried. Sascha still wasn’t there, and he had neither answered Dan’s messages nor picked up the phone when he’d called. 

  After half an hour Dan was beside himself. He’d finally called Phil, and while he didn’t know where Sascha was either he at least gave him the useful advice to check his apartment Phil wondered what the fuss was about, though, so Dan just told him to check the video the IBVA had put up. 

  It took Dan less than five minutes to get to Sascha’s apartment block. When he first rang the doorbell, cautiously and unsure, there was no answer, but he wasn’t about to give up that easily. So he just kept ringing. 

  After a few seconds that felt like an eternity to Dan the door finally opened. He climbed the stairs up to Sascha’s floor where he found him, leaning powerlessly against the doorframe, and Dan was shocked. He’d never seen Sascha looking like this - so completely drained of energy, without a flicker of mischief in his green eyes. Instead of standing tall his shoulders were hunched over, his cheeks glistened wet and even behind the glasses Dan could see that his eyes were red and swollen. He wore a shirt of the IBVA that seemed a bit older, but wasn’t too suspicious, until he turned around to make his way into his apartment, revealing a big brazilian flag on the back, and Dan understood that it was probably an old shirt of Marcelo, who was of brazilian origin. 

  “Oh, Sascha,” Dan murmured as he followed him inside, closing the door behind him. Sascha didn’t even say a word as he let himself fall onto his couch, gesticulating vaguely for Dan to take a seat as well. 

  Afterwards, Sascha was completely quiet, staring off into space motionlessly, and Dan was busy taking in his surroundings. There were several tissues thrown about on the living room table. Sascha’s laptop peeked out under some of them, still blinking, indicating that it had just been closed and pushed away mindlessly. The TV was running, showing a beach volleyball match that Dan had been sure was chosen randomly, until he realized that it was an old one of Marcelo and his partner. 

  Dan sighed, unsure of what to do, but then he got up and decided some tea wouldn’t hurt. He’d been in Sascha’s kitchen a few times, so it didn’t take him too long to make some. 

  When he got back into the living room Sascha hadn’t moved an inch and when Dan gently handed him the mug it took him a few moments to even become aware of his presence. Dan sat down again as well, observing worriedly as Sascha cradled the hot mug in his hands. He was sure there were new tears running down the youngster’s cheek and for a second, he wished he’d taken Phil’s offer to come over as well. 

  He had no idea how to handle this, what to do or what to say. Everything that came to mind seemed useless, meaningless. He felt completely powerless. Phil, caring, empathetic Phil would’ve known how to handle the situation, he was sure of it; but he took a deep breath and threw all of his anxiety over saying the wrong thing right out of the window. Anything was better than utter silence. 

  “Sascha…” he started, turning towards his friend now, one leg perched up on the couch. His voice was deep and rhusty, worry so evident in it he had to suppress a wince. He didn’t say more than that, but the intent was clear.

  Sascha didn’t answer at first, but at least he moved to take a cautious sip from his tea, which Dan counted as a win. Then, when Dan had already given up hope, he started talking. 

  “How did you know?” he asked, not even looking at Dan, who sighed. “That you have feelings for him? Honestly, it doesn’t take a genius to figure that one out.” 

  Sascha’s response was a humorless laugh. “That obvious, huh.” 

  “Yeah.”

  Another moment of silence passed and Dan took his mug of tea into his hands as well, looking at the TV to keep himself from looking at Sascha, who seemed like a wild animal - any sound or direct eye contact could have him running in the opposite direction. For a second he was tempted to text Phil - but deep down he knew he could do this, and that it had to be him. Sascha definitely had a reason to not talk to Phil about it, and Dan would honour that.

  “Please talk to me.”

  Dan really didn’t think it would work, but it finally seemed like he’d gotten through to the normally so confident youngster. 

  “I don’t even know why I still have hope. I just get knocked down over and over again. When will I accept the truth?”

  Dan physically flinched hearing the defeat in his voice. He’d been through a lot with Sascha already, had grown as a person and stronger as an athlete, and after the initial hesitance, he’d also grown closer to Sascha as well. Seeing something hurting him like that - it made him hurt too. And it made him think of Phil, and how lucky he was to at least know his feelings were reciprocated, even if he’d chosen not to act on them. He’d be okay. 

  The question was, would Sascha be?

  “I just can’t believe it’s one sided. The way he looks at you….” He trailed of, making a vague gesture with the hand not holding the mug. He wasn’t sure if it was wise to give Sascha even more hope after everything, but Dan just wasn’t ready to give up. He’d get behind this, and then he’d get them together, even if it’d be the last thing he’d do. 

  “I don’t know, Dan, I just - I just don’t understand what’s going on. It’s like - Like…” He stumbled over his words, and when Dan looked over he could see there were new tears shining in the corner of his eye. He took a deep breath. 

  “When I first met him, I never thought - I never even imagined. We didn’t talk a lot, simply because we never ran in the same circles, you know? But then the shit happened with my girlfriend and… He saw me, during strength training, asked me what was wrong, and I just… I felt like I could trust him. So I told him everything. And he told me I was worth more than that. More than the person she wanted me to be. And he said it in a way that…” He visibly faltered for a moment, shooting Dan a quick look before taking a deep breath. 

  “He looked deep into my eyes. Like I was the most important thing in the world. Like he was able to see what she couldn’t.”

  Again there was a pause, and Dan didn’t even dare to move. Sascha seemed so fragile, like the most gentle breeze could scatter him into a million directions. 

  “Looking back, I think I started fancying him then,” he whispered, almost soundlessly. 

  The following silence was so looming, so comprehensive it made Dan shudder. It was pretty clear to him that Sascha had never said it out loud before, and it meant a big deal, so he waited patiently for him to continue. 

  “After I broke up with my girlfriend we truly started talking, and to hang out. He was so nice and easy going, so awkward and adorable, we were interested in the same things and we just - clicked. We grew so close, but every time I think This is it he just… backtracks. He’ll look into my eyes and hold my hand like we’re a couple, like he has feelings for me, and the next thing I know he calls me his brother. And still I-” He stopped short, choking down, and Dan intuitively scooted closer. 

  “You should say it,” Dan prodded softly. “It might help.”

  Still in tears, Sascha looked up to meet Dan’s eyes. 

  “And still I love him,” he choked out between sobs, then he broke down.

  _________

  Surprisingly, not a lot changed after that. Dan and Sascha were closer than before, sure; and during training or hangouts when Marcelo would look a certain way or sit closer to Sascha than strictly necessary they would exchange looks, have entire conversations with nothing but their eyes. After practice, whenever they didn’t do things as a group, Dan and Sascha would come together, watch a movie, play video games - be there for each other. 

  Dan himself was doing pretty good. He and Phil had been growing close as well, but Dan tried to mostly refrain from being alone with him, and so far, it seemed to be working. Sure, sometimes he mourned for the what if , but mostly he was just happy to have gained a friend as amazing as Phil was. 

  He knew, though, that Sascha needed him. The youngster hadn’t been particularly happy with the situation - or over all. Dan had to stand on the sidelines and watch as his best friend became more closed up and silent by the minute, at least around Marcelo, and he didn’t feel good about that. He didn’t understand what Marcelo was doing, but that didn’t mean Dan wanted Sascha to completely lose someone so dear and close to him. On the other hand, he also understood why the youngster was spending less and less time with Marcelo. 

  Overall he felt like he was looking at a doom loop and he had no idea how to break it.  The state of affairs dragged on for weeks. Dan and Sascha went through their first tournament together, which they ended on an amazing second place, and played against Sascha’s brother and his partner again, who they beat once more. 

  After the game, Mischa took Dan aside and asked for news, but Dan couldn’t give him anything. Marcelo on the other hand seemed to struggle to understand what was happening, continuously cornering Sascha and asking him what was wrong. The situation seemed to pain him considerably, too; but that made things just more confusing to him. How had the older man still not figured out what Sascha felt for him?

  It took more than two months to break Dan. He’d had the same talks with Sascha over and over again - “Talk to him!” “I can’t! He can’t know what I feel for him, it would destroy everything!” - “It can’t go on like this. It’s starting to affect your play!” “It has to. I’ll just have to get over it.’’ - etcetera, and he’d had enough.

  Dan also couldn’t imagine how things could get any worse, but he wasn’t about to tell Sascha that.

  Sasch had lost his touch and was struggling to get it back, and Dan had to watch helplessly as he lost more and more motivation to Marcelo, so one Tuesday during one of his routine treatments from Phil after a particularly bad training - Dan kind of just... spit it out. 

  He knew it was wrong, somehow. But it wasn’t like he was able to stop himself, either.

  “It’s so bad. My trainer averted his eyes, and I can’t even blame him. I can’t look at it anymore either,” he groaned when Phil asked him about how training was going. The physiotherapist halted in his movements, just for a moment, hardly noticeable, but Dan sensed it anyway. 

  “Why?” Phil asked before continuing working on his back. Dan was almost used to it by now, at least when it was unspectacular places like his back, so he didn’t even have to bite his lip anymore to keep down a moan.

  The question confused Dan, just a bit, but it was like Phil’s calm and trustworthy presence had finally broken his self-imposed spell of silence on the matter. Sascha hadn’t particularly told Dan to stay quiet, but it might have been implied somewhere. He honestly couldn’t remember, and at this point he didn’t care. He couldn’t just stand by and watch as his best friend got more and more broken by the second. He’d kept silent and not done anything for too long. But not any more. Not for a second longer.

  “Is that really a question? After the video? He’s in pieces. Every time I’m picking him up something happens and he’s breaking apart all over again.”

  He took a deep breath. “I don’t know what to do. I’m completely helpless.”

  Phil’s hands on his back stilled, then they vanished. “You’re done,” he croaked out, breathless, and took a step back as Dan sat up. He gulped visibly, then: “Get dressed. We’re going to my place, and then you’re telling me everything you know. I’m tired of this.”

  ______

  “So, what you’re saying is - Sascha has actually had feelings for Marcelo the whole time?” Phil looked at him with wide eyes, so innocent and unaware Dan wanted to scream. How could someone be that pretty and that clueless at the same time?

  Dan’s eyes felt like they were falling out of their sockets as he stared at Phil, completely dumbfounded. He wasn’t - he couldn’t actually - it wasn’t possible -

  He was. He could. And yes, it was possible.

  “Please don’t tell me you didn’t know.”

  “I had no idea!” 

  “Are you blind ?”

  For a moment, Dan felt bad about it, but he got over it pretty quickly. Honestly, Phil kind of deserved it. The physiotherapist still looked shocked by the news but was now also blushing profusely, avoiding Dan’s eyes. 

  Dan sighed. “You cannot be serious, Phil.”

  More blushing, then: “Marcelo said Sascha didn’t love him back. So I didn’t question it.” 

  Silence settled in until the words properly registered in his mind, then Dan’s head shot up, fixing Phil’s eyes in a gaze. “Back. So I’m right. Marcelodoes have feelings for him!”

  Phil nodded, picking up the coffee mug he’d placed on the table in front of him and taking a huge sip while pressing his foot firmer into Dan’s thigh. “He’s been in love with Sascha for ages.”

  Then he furrowed his brows, staring into the dark liquid like it held the answers to all his questions.

  Dan wished .

  “Wait, but if it was that obvious - he knows Sascha better than anyone else. He must have known about it. Why didn’t he tell me? Why did he lie? What is he doing?”

  Dan sighed again. “That’s the one million dollar question, isn’t it. What’s Marcelo doing?”

  _______

  When Dan asked Sascha why he hadn’t talked to Phil about the situation yet, he told Dan he was scared the physiotherapist would tell Marcelo everything, so Dan cleared up the misunderstanding. Luckily, Sascha wasn’t mad at Dan for telling him, and the situation dragged on. The one good thing about it was that Dan was so enrolled in the mystery that Marcelo posed, he didn’t even have time to think about Phil - to question how close they had become. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew that as soon as things were resolved he’d probably break down and throw himself at Phil like a lovesick fool, but he ignored it completely. 

  Maybe he was falling for Phil. Hard. So what? He’d just have to restrain himself. He’d been doing that for months now - what could possibly go wrong?

  Never in the history had that sentence not lead to things going horribly wrong, but he ignored that as well.

  As a team, Dan and Sascha continued to make progress, but as an individual, Sascha’s performance didn’t improve significantly. Sure he had trainings where things were going a bit better - for example when Marcelo was gone for a week, visiting his parents in Brazil and Dan kept him distracted as well as possible - but that wasn’t a lot. Overall, the brash, mischievous Sascha whom Dan had met months ago was missing in action. 

  It didn’t take long for Dan and Phil to start worrying. Group hangouts became less and less frequent and Sascha was asking for time alone, so they spent most of their time together, worrying about their friends and planning how to get them back on track. Sometimes, they’d put on a movie or play video games, and Dan’s restraint around Phil would falter, just for a moment, for a lingering touch or an endearing look, but he managed to keep it at that - as long as it wasn’t more it would be fine. As soon as his lips would touch Phil’s, though, it would be over, and all attempts of abstention would have been in vain.

  Their attempts to get Sascha and Marcelo to talk were mostly unsuccessful. They refused to talk to each other openly, and that did not help calming Dan and Phil’s nerves. The first qualifying matches for the Olympics were approaching with big steps, and they knew: with Sascha being like this, they’d be lucky to even stand a chance. 

  That was why, only a month from their first match, Dan finally lost his patience. After practice he lured Marcelo into Phil’s treatment room and kept him there while Phil brought Sascha for his daily checkup. He sat them down onto a couch in the corner of the room, refusing all protests, and took a seat on some chairs facing them. 

  He and Phil shared a look, squeezing each other’s hand - something they had started doing only recently and completely without Dan’s conscious approval - then he took a deep breath and turned his attention to the men on the couch. 

  “Guys, we’ve been patient. Really patient. We’ve sat by and watched as you drift further and further apart, but it has to stop.”

  “This is an intervention. You two need to talk and because you’re obviously not going to do that on your own, we’re forcing you to,” Phil explained further, and Dan nodded. The look of utter betrayal in Sascha’s eyes weighed heavy on Dan’s heart, but he knew that this was the only way. Sascha was too stubborn to try to improve the situation, and Marcelo had simply given up. Someone had to do something, and there was no one else that would. 

  “Anything one of you wants to share with the group?”, Dan asked, gesticulating with his hands like they were in group therapy, and Phil gave him a grin. The other two didn’t seem particularly impressed with this joke, though. 

  “I have nothing to say,” Sascha said, breathless, hardly making a sound, and Marcelo flinched like someone had punched him. “Who’s surprised,” he mumbled under his breath, and Sascha’s sharp, green eyes turned to him.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” His voice was nothing but a hiss, low and dangerous, and Dan was glad it wasn’t directed at him. His partner was a few years younger than him, sure, but he was also tall and well trained and his look could be so sharp Dan swore it could pierce through skin. 

  “You haven’t talked to me in weeks!” Marcelo accused, and Dan and Phil shared a quick look. It was true, sure, but that didn’t mean Sascha’s silence wasn’t at least justified. They had tried to get him to talk as well, but they weren’t the ones causing the behaviour. 

  Sascha’s eyes narrowed and Dan swore the temperature in the room dropped at least ten degrees within a second. “That’s rich, coming from you,” he hissed, pure venom in his voice. 

  “Why?”

  “Because you’re the goddamn reason!” Sascha blurted out forcefully, short of seething. “You’re the goddamn reason for everything! For me being distracted, for my sadness, for my performance dropping! You and that fucking video!”

  “Sascha -” 

  “No! Just no! Not again! I’m tired of it, okay? I’m tired of all of it! Do you know what it does to me, every time you say something like this?” There were tears in the corners of his eyes and Dan unconsciously reached for Phil’s hand. It hurt him, too, and he didn’t have the strength to go through it alone. 

  “Do you know how fucking much it hurts ?”

  For a second, it was silent, and Dan couldn’t help but look at Marcelo - who looked close to tears, obviously trying to avert Sascha’s eyes. “But -” 

  Sascha cut him off again, shaking his head silently. “No buts, Marcelo. Not again,” he said, his voice close to a whisper, and from one second to the next he looked so broken Dan couldn’t help but strengthen his grip on Phil’s hand. 

  Then he got up, attempting to leave the room. Dan was about to get up as well, to keep him there for just a second longer, just to give Marcelo a chance to explain, but the brazilian was behind Sascha and taking a hold of his wrist so fast Dan didn’t even have the time to move a muscle. 

  “That is not fair, Sascha. You were the one telling me off years ago and I can’t know you’d still react like that -”

  “I did what?”

  “Telling me off. During the first interview you did. Remember?”

  Sascha shook his head. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

  “When the reporter asked you about the rumors concerning that woman you played a match with for charity. You laughed and told him she was too old for you anyways.”

  Sascha blinked, obviously dumbfounded, but at least a lot calmer than before. “How could you have possibly applied that to yourself?”

  Marcelo’s look was so sad Dan’s heart would’ve broken in his chest would he not be holding onto Phil’s hand for dear life.

  “She’s exactly my age, Sascha. I got the message, bright and clear. I did my best to keep away from you and that aspect, I swear, but you’re just so irresistible and I was already so fucking much in love with you -”

  “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” Dan mumbled to himself, and the physiotherapist next to him nodded affirmatively, but the other two guys weren’t even aware of them anymore. 

  Sascha choked out a sob, tears streaming down his face as he continued to stare into Marcelo’s eyes. “You idiot,” he whispered without any malice, “It was never about you. I just wanted him to stop asking about her. Especially because I had feelings for you …”

  That was the point where Dan had to avert his eyes, where the connection between Sascha and Marcelo became too much and he just felt like he was intruding on a private moment. He carefully tugged at Phil’s hand, gesturing him that they should go. So they did, leaving Sascha and Marcelo and any further developments alone. 

  ____

  Training was a lot better the following week. Sascha’s performance improved and went back to normal within minutes on court; he was able to concentrate, he smiled and laughed with Dan and his technique was back to top quality. Dan was more than relieved. The first qualifying tournament for Olympia was less than a month away and they needed to be at the top of their game. 

  Within the week after that, though, Dan got a feeling something was different - or, to be more precise, something wasn’t different. A specific something. 

  Sascha and Marcelo didn’t act differently at all. They were obviously back to being friends, sure, participating in group outings, joking with each other; but if anything, the touching had decreased . No teasing about their relationship, no suggestive comments, and definitely no kisses, not even on the cheek. Something was definitely not right. 

  He knew he needed Phil’s opinion, so during his physio-treatment - while desperately trying not to get a hard-on because Phil literally had his hands all over his body - he asked. 

  “What’s wrong with Sascha and Marcelo by the way?”

  There was no hesitance in the hands kneading his left thigh dangerously close to his ass and Dan had to stifle a moan. 

  “What do you mean? Everything’s the same as before.”

  “Exactly,” Dan answered with a raspy voice, trying to hide the pleasure. “Shouldn’t something be different?”

  Phil was silent for a moment, switching from the thigh to the calf - slightly less dangerous territory - and Dan allowed himself to relax before the physiotherapist spoke again. “You know what? Now that I think about it… You might be right. They don’t act like a couple at all. Or, well, at least not more than usual.” 

  “Precisely.” 

  After twenty more minutes of treatment - and therefore, twenty more minutes of Dan feeling ridiculously underlaid - they agreed to do some digging. 

  The first task fell to Dan. Him and Phil had agreed that - after everything they’d been through with Sascha - it was unfair to not give him the chance to speak. So during their midnight run Dan asked Sascha about it, about the relationship and if they were in a romantic one, but the youngster’s answers were unsure and vague. After some prodding, he straight-up denied it, claiming him and Marcelo would “work better as friends”. 

  Needless to say that Dan was furious.

  Just to confirm the story, Phil asked the same questions during morning practice, when both him and Marcelo were on the stands. The answers were pretty similar.

  Both Dan and Phil were more than disappointed about that outcome. They got together for some Mario Kart that afternoon, and while Dan was half a round ahead and Phil was fighting for the third spot, they realized they couldn’t just… Leave it at that.

  In reality, they could. They just refused not to. For their friends’ happiness, but also for their own pride.

  “That can’t be it,” Dan observed as he was skillfully maneuvering around a banana peel on track, “They love each other. Why the fuck not start a relationship?” 

  Only after saying it out loud did he realize it was basically a stab into his own guts, and he was lucky Phil was too preoccupied with the game to look at him.

  “True,” Phil confirmed, sticking out his tongue in concentration. 

  For a second, it was silent aside from the sounds of the game, then Dan made a decision as his car was driving past the finish line. “You know what? Not on my watch.”

  Something misschievous glinted in Phil’s eyes when he turned to look Dan into the eyes. “No. Not on our watch.”

  ____

  Two weeks later they were in the car on their way to their first Olympics-relevant tournament and nothing had changed. Nothing at all . They had tried (and, well, failed) to get them together multiple times, had shoved them together for practice, had given Sascha the opportunity to say something, but so far, all their attempts had been in vain. Not only Dan, but even the bubbly, optimistic Phil was rapidly losing confidence in their ability to meddle. 

  It was Marcelo’s shift to drive, so Sascha had, naturally, chosen to sit shotgun - “working better as friends” my ass , Dan thought - leaving the backseats to Dan and Phil.

  Dan, sitting behind Sascha, hadn’t been paying a lot of attention - he was fairly occupied trying to get Phil to relax, with his car sickness and all - so when he looked forward for the first time, trying to get a look on their navi, and he saw a dark spot on the back of Sascha’s neck, almost at his shoulder, for a second he didn’t think anything of it. Then he processed what he’d seen and - Huh?

  He couldn’t be sure, his view was obstructed by both Sascha’s hair and his shirt, but - he leaned over towards Phil, whispering in his ear. Phil’s face, slightly less green than before, showed surprise, then he exchanged a look with Dan, the same question in his eyes. 

  Is that… a hickey ?

  ___

  The tournament went amazingly well. They’d survived the group phase and the first knock out round and were now on for the quarterfinals tomorrow. They’d agreed to have a light training session around midday, but Dan had spent the day hiding from Phil since they’d had a near slip-up the other night playing Fifa (Dan had lost, so he’d started tickling Phil and ended up closer to him than intended and almost kissed him), so he went directly to the training court instead of meeting the others at the hotel. When he arrived, Sascha and Phil were already there, laughing while Phil tried - and failed - to warm Sascha up. 

  When they noticed Dan, Sascha gave a wave and a grin, walking over to his bag to take a drink, but Phil came sprinting towards him through the deep sand. “That is Marcelo’s shirt,” he said in lieu of greeting, and Dan blinked dumbfounded before he understood what Phil was getting at.

  He took a closer look at Sascha’s outfit, and sure enough he was wearing a light blue shirt with a Volleyball emblem on the breast pocket that he’d seen Marcelo wear before. 

  “Oh my god, you’re right. He wore it just two days ago!”

  For neutral parties, it probably wasn’t a big deal, but to Dan and Phil, it definitely was. They were invested in this relationship - more than they would’ve thought before. 

  “Are we becoming fanboys?” Dan asked as they walked over to Sascha. Phil’s stunning blue eyes were glinting in the shining sun and for a moment Dan forgot how to breathe. 

  “Absolutely.”

  ___

  Dan and Sascha made it through the quarterfinals relatively easy, beating their opponents in two straight sets. The match directly after was determining their semi-finals opponents, so Dan and Phil decided to stay to spy on them and get a feeling for how they were playing, but both Sascha and Marcelo chose to go back to the hotel, claiming they wanted to skype their families. 

  The stands built up for the sake of the tournament went up fairly high, and to be less likely to get spotted Dan and Phil decided to search for seats in a far up row, which were mostly empty. From up there, they had a really nice view of the ocean far off to one side - and, coincidentally, the hotel they were all staying in. They were looking straight at their floor and with it, their shared balcony - between the five of them, including the trainer, they occupied the whole side of the floor for themselves. The rooms were connected by a long, shared balcony, which made going over to one of the other rooms for a treatment or a talk with their coach a lot easier. 

  While the teams on court were still warming up Dan looked over to the hotel. He found Sascha at his balcony door, looking out to the court. He had changed into a red shirt and grey shorts shining brightly in the sun, and Dan softly elbowed Phil in the side an gesticulated for him to take a look as well. 

  They watched as Marcelo appeared behind Sascha with his boring white clothes immediately recognisable in the compared darkness of the room. He stepped closer to Sascha, reaching out with his hand, then Sascha let the curtain drop and the scene was out of view. Phil and Dan shared a look. Skyping their families, huh?

  Throughout the game they kept a close eye on Sascha’s balcony door, but the curtain didn’t move again - until their tainer stepped onto the balcony, making his way to Sascha’s room. When he knocked on the glass nothing happened for a while. Then the door opened and Sascha stepped out in his red shorts and white shirt - 

  “He’s in different clothes than before!” Phil pointed out, voice somewhere between excited and surprised, and Dan’s eyes widened as he realized that Phil was right. “So - They went in together, no one comes out for half an hour, and now he’s suddenly in a completely different outfit, even though he’d been freshly showered before?!” Phil summarized and Dan nodded, dumbfounded.

  “Well, that’s not fishy,” he mumbled, “Not fishy at all.”

  ___

  When Marcelo showed up to dinner with a red shirt Dan and Phil were set on investigating further. Something was going on there and they wanted to know what it was. 

  Dan and Sascha finished third in the tournament, which was half the qualification norm for the Olympics, so they were happy with the outcome. They had around a week at home before they were leaving for the next tournament, and they didn’t do much else than relax and a bit of strength training and jogging. 

  Dan particularly despised the last part.

  They spent the day before their anew departure together as a group, playing Mario Kart, Fifa and pictionary, and they had so much fun Dan’s belly hurt from all the laughing. When Sascha beat Marcelo in Mario Kart, the brazilian reached over, tickling the youngster, and Phil gave Dan a look of oh my god they’re so adorable I can’t even that Dan had to agree with. 

  Two hours later both Sascha and Marcelo had left - “to do the rest of packing”, sure Jan , Dan thought - and only Phil had stayed, wanting to help with the cleanup. Everything had stayed completely innocent so far, and Dan mentally patted himself on the back for being so resistant - he hadn’t reacted to either Phil’s flirting nor to his continuous physical contact. He was strong. 

  Until he wasn’t. 

  They were just finishing up the dishes. Dan was at the sink, washing the rest of the glasses and plates when Phil reached up to the cupboard directly above Dan’s head, leaning so far over his body they were touching basically everywhere. Dan could feel the blood rushing into his cheeks and somewhere lower, tightly gripping the edge of the sink - for support or to keep himself from moving, he wasn’t sure - and he stayed determined, he really did, but then - 

  Then Phil’s breath hit the skin on his neck and it was all over. 

  He turned around in a flash, exchanging a short, meaningful look with Phil, then he was kissing him and his world was turning upside down. Nothing was as it had seemed before. His self restraint vanished in a vortex of gold, his brain left his body and all that was left was lust and love. 

  Fuck it, he loved that guy, had had for a long time; and he’d always known all restraint would be lost as soon as his lips touched Phil’s. 

  His life was flashing in front of his closed eyelids as he passionately kissed Phil, showing him all the lost opportunities that they could’ve spent making out, showing him what he had missed out on. But he didn’t even have the mental capacity to process it - he didn’t have the mental capacity to do anything . He had lost all connection to his body, was nothing but a spiritual being flowing through time and space with Phil right by his side. 

  Within a single heartbeat he decided he didn’t care about his stupid rules and his stupid logic. If he wanted to be with Phil - and he did - then he should be, whether he was going for gold or not. It wouldn’t make him stronger, but it wouldn’t make him weaker, either; if anything, it would serve as a further incentive. 

  Between ragged breaths and erratic heartbeats he paused his frantic movements, keeping Phil’s face in his hands and looking him straight into the bright blue eyes. “I love you.” Opposed to the shaking of his body his voice was firm and sure, and for a second, the colour of Phil’s eyes seemed to flare brighter than ever before. 

  “I love you, too,” he said softly, a few tears swimming in his eyes and a smile on his lips so sweet it could give half the world population diabetes just from looking at it. 

  Dan stared into Phil’s eyes and somehow, the world around them vanished. Then, suddenly, he was falling, but not down, no; he was falling up, higher and higher, until he shot through a layer of clouds and all that existed was blue, blue, blue . 

  It took him quite some time to escape the pull of Phil’s eyes, but when he did, he sprung straight back into action - straight back to kissing and touching and… More . 

  The next morning, when he woke up to the colour of Phil’s eyes there was just one word on his mind. “Boyfriends?”

  Phil’s eyes glinted stunningly in the rising sun, and Dan knew he’d remember this day forever. “Boyfriends.”  ____

  This time, the tournament was on another continent, so they went there by plane. Phil slept through almost the whole flight and Dan was busy trying to not gush about how cute he was. 

  They had decided to not tell Marcelo and Sascha in passing, waiting to do it over dinner when they had arrived at their destination instead. After Sascha had shown up at the airport wearing one of Marcelo’s shirts yet again they also wanted to confront them about their observations. Dan didn’t even care that they’d sound like crazy fanboys.

  Well, at least not a lot. 

  Due to time zones it was early in the morning when they arrived, but they all decided to get some sleep anyway. When Dan woke up in time for dinner Phil was laying cuddled into his side, snoring sweetly, and he leaned down to plant a soft kiss on Phil’s forehead before he got up. Thankfully, Phil was a heavy sleeper, so he just continued sleeping, giving Dan time to have a long, relaxing shower - or so he’d thought. In reality, Phil joined him halfway through, but it wasn’t like he minded. On the contrary. 

  When they went down for dinner both Marcelo and Sascha were already there, staring at each other over the table like they were the only people in existence. Phil sighed dreamily, giving Dan another They’re so cute look, and Dan had to stifle a giggle. His boyfriend was a major fanboy. 

  Boyfriend.

  Dan’s heartrate picked up at the thought. Even thinking it made him happy. 

  When they had sat down and ordered Dan and Phil exchanged a look, quietly taking hold of each other’s hand under the table. “Phil and I -” Dan started but was unsure of how to continue, how to word what he wanted to say. He was nervous and excited and the previously picked out words jumbled together into a wild storm of letters that he had no idea how to decipher. 

  Thankfully, Phil was less concerned by the whole thing. 

  “We’re together now. And we’re really happy.”

  It was quiet at the table as Sascha and Marcelo looked at each other with raised eyebrows. 

  “We know,” Sascha said, slowly and clearly, like he wasn’t sure about Dan and Phil’s mental state. 

  Dan sputtered. “Wha - What?” 

  “How did you know?” Phil asked, more interested than surprised, and Dan blinked at him in shock. Why did it not shock him? Was everyone going insane?!

  “It’s been obvious for weeks now,” Marcelo explained calmly and finally, Dan understood, relaxing immediately. 

  He let out a short laugh. “We’re together since last night. Or the night before, depending on the time zone we’re going with.”

  Marcelo and Sascha blinked in complete unison, making Phil giggle. “But-”

  “Is that why you didn’t tell us you are together as well? Because you were mad we didn’t tell you?” Dan asked, a lightbulb going off above his head. He paused for a moment before he added: “You guys are together, right?”

  Both him and Phil started grinning like a fool when the others nodded. Oh, how he loved it when things finally made sense, and when things turned out the way he planned them too. He gave Phil a high five in celebration, then he turned to Sascha and Marcelo, still grinning. “You’re idiots.”

  They at least had the decency to look shameful.

  “We’re all idiots,” Phil corrected and the others couldn’t help agreeing. They clinked glasses with champagne a few minutes later, and Phil literally cooed as his inquire made Marcelo lean over the table and give Sascha a passionate kiss. 

  They shared a lot of laughter and fun that night, and Dan had a better time than ever before. He looked at his group of friends with happiness and pride, and he had never felt more content in life. 

  ____

  A few weeks later him and Phil finally had the time to go on their first official date. The days had been crazy, packed and busy, but they’d been the best of Dan’s life. The letter with his official invitation to the Olympics weighed heavily in his pocket when he entered the old, 50s themed diner. The place looked decisively vintage with its off-white walls decorated with vinyls, black and white checkered tiles on the ground and lamps hanging from the ceiling. 

The jukebox up front was playing Cry Me A River as they slid into their booth, Phil on the other side of the table. They both grinned as they mouthed along to the song. The glowing red neon lights brought out the blue in Phil’s eyes so stunningly Dan once again was blinded by their beauty. 

  They shared a milkshake with two straws like they were in one of these cheesy romance novels Dan had always despised, but somehow he didn’t care anymore. He embraced the romantic cliches like they were old friends - simply because with Phil, it all seemed okay. Phil had step by step teared down all of his walls and rules, what was one more in this jumble of new experiences and feelings and happiness?

  He let his fingers skim over the paper in his pocket as he looked into Phil’s eyes, only listening half-heartedly as Phil rambled on about one thing or the other, an utterly lovestruck look on his face. Maybe he didn’t have gold yet, but within the last few months he’d gained and accomplished more than he’d ever dreamed of. Still, it had only been the beginning, he knew it. He was happy with Phil, Sascha was happy with Marcelo, they were happy as a group, and in a few weeks, they’d have a shot at winning gold. 

  Their future was golden, one way or the other. 

[etoilesdephan]

Burn bright for my constellations (Chapter 8)

Chapter masterpost

Word count: 3.8k

Read it on ao3!

A/N: I have edited this but there might still be some mistakes, and if there are, I apologise <3 I will return to trying to edit it again when my brain doesn't feel like melting :'D Hope you enjoy <3

======

The words before his eyes were a jumbled mess. His mind far away, thinking about the conversation with D'aja. Only when his phone screen lit up, and Dan felt his heart jump in that familiar manner by now, excitement instead of the constant worry present, that it was finally drawn back to the reality.

Phil had been absent from school for a few days, but had made sure to message Dan, their casual banter not ceasing though there was something worrying about it too, the way the answers took a longer time and how often Phil would jump over one of the topics without answering though asked direct questions.

Yet, a selfish part of Dan was just glad to see those messages pop up, always too afraid that if he asked too much that the other boy would pull away and stop replying. Though the two had been rather open, there was something looming in the air, and he couldn't place the feeling; his therapist said that trauma could affect his perception, that things may sometimes not make sense, so he latched onto that explanation. He allowed only the worries that he could easily justify take up space in his mind, and instead settled on peaceful oblivion for those that he couldn't.

That quickly changed though, when he finally read the message, where Phil's usually carefully crafted sentences were not as clear anymore, a bunch of misspelled words, and a complete lack of punctuation that even Dan knew of (He'd often laughed that chatting with Phil felt like Dan was talking to an English teacher), all in all a mess of fumbling fingers gliding across the screen rather than a coherent thought.

Phil: Do ypu wantto cme ovre

Dan furrowed his brows, the corners of his mouth dipping downwards heavily at the message, and looked up through his window and at Phil's, where the curtains were drawn and every window that he could see was dark. Same as it had been for the past couple of days.

Dan: where r u?

Phil: home

He looked up again, but there was still no sign of life in the house across the yard, and it made Dan's heart sink with worry.

His studies forgotten, he pulled himself up and through the hallways. The cryptic messages made him assume the worst, where the terrors of his night took new shape, finally let loose after the quiet oblivion. What if Phil was hurt and unable to get anyone else to help him? The thought alone set Dan's heart racing and he was nearly tripping over his own feet by the time he reached the front door and his mum emerged from the living room.

“Where are you going?” He could heard the way she sounded inquisitive, but when their eyes met, there was a knowing hint about her expression, say, she already knew the answer.

Dan shot her a look that was almost apologetic, “Phil's,” He didn't elaborate why, and his mum didn't ask though her lips had parted to do so before she stopped herself.

“Please be home on time. Remember that you have school tomorrow,” She said instead, and Dan impatiently nodded, one hand grabbing for the doorknob and the other - his hood, to pull it over his eyes more out of habit than anything else, and was about to leave only to stop when she spoke again.

“You can talk to me, Daniel, you know that, right?”

Dan paused, and looked over at her and what he saw was something in her gaze that he couldn't decipher. Throughout the past year he had seen a lot of different things in her eyes, but for once there was something new. A bit of worry, a bit of emotion he couldn't really name, and then there was that softness which was almost painful, something about it reminiscent of the looks she had given him when he had first come to it at hospital post-accident.

It made him reluctant to leave but then she turned away and he was released from that mystery of a question.

“Okay, mum,” He managed quietly but she was already gone and he walked out into the darkness of the British winter suddenly drawn down to Earth like he had been floating above it all for days until now.

The weather was dreary and made him wish that he was in his bed still, but instead he scurried onward quicker, his feet clumsy on the pavement but clear in their direction.

The windows were still dark when Dan rang the bell, confounded. It took a while, Dan shifting impatiently as the cold invaded through the seams of his clothing, until the door clicked open and when Phil appeared in the doorway Dan's face fell at the expression the other wore.

Phil's eyes were puffy like he had been crying and every little part about him looked ruffled up, untidy. His limbs were heavy, his entire tall posture low and like he was struggling to stay upright.

Phil opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out and it was scary to watch, the way the always rather sunny boy looked like the sky had gone dark and starless. Dan moved in close, slow at first but when Phil released a small whimper, he didn't hesitate anymore and reached out to wrap his arms around Phil's shoulders to draw the other boy in and felt the way Phil's arms held tightly around his waist in return. At first Dan tensed, a memory of being trapped starting to creep in, but soon relaxed into the hold, forcing his thoughts to focus on the soft sounds near his ear, and the way that his shoulder felt colder with the winter air where the tears had soaked through the fabric quickly.

And he had no idea what else to do, so he held him close, rubbing his hand over the back of Phil's neck, and the short hair at the nape of it, trying to soothe the older boy.

It took a while and Dan felt how his limbs were growing stiffer with every second that ticked away, and eventually he stood there supported by Phil's hold only to stumble a little once Phil unwound his arms, though slowly, from around him.

“What's wrong, Phil?” Dan asked quietly when Phil rubbed his eyes to dry them only succeeding at reddening them even more instead. Slowly, Dan reached out to close the door finally, and reached for Phil's hand to drag the other boy further into the house. It was quiet and dark, and it was clear that Phil was home all alone.

Once he had coaxed Phil into sitting down on the couch, Dan patted around the wall near the door till he found the light switch and flipped it on. Phil instantly squinted at the light, shielding his eyes with his hand but Dan could only focus on one thing - the way Phil looked, distressed, pale, tear-stained and red-eyed. There were stains on his shirt and sweatpants like he had accidentally spilled something on himself and not bothered to change. And that silence, it pressed against Dan's eardrums painfully, the ringing nearly nonexistent by now.

“Talk to me,” Dan's voice came out hushed when he sat next to Phil who didn't wait long to lean into Dan and it made the younger boy's heart jump and break when he felt the tremors running through the other boy.

“They don't know what's wrong,” Phil's voice was thick and weak when he finally answered, and so distant that it felt like Phil was speaking from another universe. Dan wrapped an arm around his shoulders, quiet, allowing the other to continue. “I'm so afraid,” The confession was nearly soundless and had Dan not been looking down at Phil's face, he might have missed it completely.

“Is it your dad?” Dan finally asked when the silence grew and so did the tremors from Phil, and Dan could hear Phil swallow thickly before the other nodded. It had been a topic that hadn't been discussed much but Dan could see the way Phil would always look pained hearing his father having another coughing fit, only to smile brightly when Dan met his gaze.

There was a faint sound, closer to a kicked animal than a teenage boy, from Phil and Dan could feel the other boy's body heavily against his side, the tremors growing periodically even after Dan had thrown his arm around Phil's shoulders. And with each tremor Dan could feel his chest constricting more with the way his heart was crumbling bit by bit. He felt the tightness begin to bleed with memories of pain, but he bit the feeling away and instead tried to force his entire attention on the now.

Because Phil needed him.

“Come on, you should wear something clean,” Finally Dan said, to Phil, after looking around for any form of additional comfort in the room. Suddenly the surroundings felt lifeless, sad and heavy, every edge too sharp and fabric too rough. It was only the comfort of green and postered walls that he could think of within the house.

It was wordlessly that Phil took Dan's free hand, the clammy fingers trembling in the hold but holding on tightly like his life depended on it. So Dan did the same, his clumsy fingers certain in their strength as they wrapped around the other boy's palm and gave it a light squeeze. Wrapped up awkwardly, Dan slowly pulled Phil up on his feet, trying hard to keep the two of them upright when he felt Phil lean into him a bit too heavily, Dan's ankles wobbling a little, still weaker than he had expected. He just bit his lip, pushing the feeling away and waited until the strangeness of the fact that for once he could support somebody else passed.

"Come now," He hoisted the other boy closer, squeezing Phil's shoulders before he began to walk towards the stairway slowly, and felt Phil obediently follow. One step, two, dozen of steps later and a couple of dozen of moments after, they finally pushed through the door and though Phil had held on so tightly, his grip loosened instantly once Dan pushed him gently to sit down on the bed.

"Let's get you into something clean," Dan muttered though it felt like Phil was not following at all, just swaying a little sitting on the very edge of the bed. For a moment Dan was worried that the other boy would slip off of it, but after a while of just watching him, shook his head and turned to dig through the closet for a clean t-shirt and a hoodie. Once he'd grabbed the two pieces, he returned and laid them out next to Phil who had barely moved aside from the light shivering and swaying that was still present in every fibre of his being.

"Should I..." Dan began but when Phil didn't respond, chewed at the inside of his cheek thoughtfully. Slowly, he reached out, lifting the hem of Phil's shirt and it seemed like a stronger shiver took over the other boy but it was gone as soon as it had appeared. "Is it okay?" Dan asked, remembering the many times that Phil had wordlessly asked Dan to leave the room when he was changing.

There was only a small sound, akin to a confirmation, and Dan continued to pull slowly and navigate Phil's arms before he finally managed to pull the shirt off over the dark mop of hair, now left in a wilder mess than before. He tossed the shirt on the floor, and with a frown, carefully reached out and began sorting out the mess on Phil's head.

"Look at me?" He asked gently and ran his hand over the side of Phil's head, just about to trail over his jawline to touch his chin but before he could, Phil flinched and wrapped his arms around himself as if suddenly exposed. It was then that Dan noted the multitude of freckles covering Phil's shoulders and going down his arms, and from what Dan could tell, also down his back. He could see how Phil would curl in on himself even more, yet the curiosity got the best of him and before he realised what he was doing, Dan lightly touched Phil's shoulder with his fingertips, running them slowly across the warm, pale and freckled skin. It was only when Phil's body shook with another strong shiver did Dan snap out of it, withdrawing his hand, and when he turned his gaze, his dark eyes met with Phil's watery blues, reddened around the edges from all the tears and rubbing that they had gone through in the past hour and more.

"I-I'm so-sorry," The words were a stammer over Dan's lips and he was just about to retreat a step, his cheeks warm, when he felt a hand on his wrist, not forceful but enough to make him stay put. There was something ashamed in Phil's gaze but there was also amazement in between all the tiredness and pain, and Dan swallowed when the intensity of the gaze seeped into his being unexpectedly.

"T-the shirt," Dan turned to pick it up and felt Phil's hand fall away from his wrist though there was something unwilling in the little movement.

It was a few quiet moments later that Phil was wrapped up in a yellow hoodie and Dan was sitting next to him that Phil finally spoke up, his voice raspy and quiet but it was clear enough for Dan to hear, "Thank you," It was soft despite the rough edges and Dan looked at Phil in a questioning silence for a moment before he leaned in a little closer, brushing their shoulders together lightly.

"No worries," And a small pause later, his tongue formed words and pronounced them without Dan's consent, as if his logic and feelings had been completely separated in his being all of a sudden in the night, "I'll gladly take your shirt off any day."

Instantly his face flushed brightly, while Phil curled his shoulders forward a little and expelled a small laugh, one sound after the other until it settled into some kind of calm that hadn't been there before. It warmed Dan's chest, and he found it in himself the courage to reach out and gently take Phil's hand in his again, giving it another squeeze just like before, reassuring.

"How are you feeling?" He asked softly and after a little moment Phil shifted and returned the squeeze with one of his own.

"Fine.... Better?" It was questioning but Dan nodded to it, before leaning in closer once more, this time staying there when their arms were pressed against one another in their near full length.

"Do you want to stay over tonight? Mum made dinner," Though genuine in his offer, Dan found it in himself that he simply didn't want to let go again, his grip tightening just a little bit, and it seemed that Phil noticed it because after a small pause, he finally nodded.

It was later that night that Phil was tucked away in Dan's bed, that Dan found himself watching the other boy's form and biting his cheek thoughtfully. His chest was warm, almost joyous, but his face was a frown.

Finally it seemed that so many things were making more sense.

===

"Dan," The voice was low, wading in through the layers of Dan's dreams slowly, until his consciousness caught onto it and his eyelids fluttered open. It was a blur for a moment, then - a pair of blue eyes, staring right at him, without a clear indication of what was going on behind them. Dan just blinked slowly, staring at the wide pupils, until the morning dawned in on him, and the way though he was used to being wrapped in Phil's arms loosely whenever they awoke next to one another, now being only a few centimeters away seemed so much closer.

"M'rning," Dan managed out drowsily, but didn't dare to move to stretch or roll over like he usually would. Captivated by the blues, he was about to say something else when a loud knock on his door startled him.

"Morning, boys, it's time to wake up for school," It was his mum and Dan propped himself up on his elbow though his shoulder felt uncomfortable under his own weight still.

"We're up," He called out, his voice still asleep and throat thicker than he expected. He heard her footsteps take her down the stairs before he turned to look down at where Phil now lied on his back, still staring at Dan as if it was the first time he saw the younger boy and there was something dazed in the gaze.

"What's up?" Dan tried to smile cheekily, only resulting in an awkward smirk, but Phil said nothing. Instead, he reached out slowly and Dan felt his pulse increase when the warm palm laid against the side of his neck gently. He had never liked anyone touching his neck, yet now, underneath Phil's touch it felt like there was something thrilling in the sensation, making his skin crawl differently from how it had before.

He wanted to say something but his lips didn't move, as if afraid that too much would spill from them than it was safe. It felt like he was stuck in a moment, time still moving but he wasn't, his breaths slow and shallow and heartbeat a heightened mess in his chest.

It felt like a tiny eternity.

As soon as it had happened though, the touch was gane, Phil dropping his hand on the bed with a small bounce against the mattress, and there was somewhat blotchy blush taking over his features like his mind and body were both torn in what he was feeling.

"I should call my mum and find out how's dad doing," Phil finally spoke up and slowly sat up and turned his back to Dan, breaking whatever magic that had been in the air.

Slowly, Dan sat up, bringing his hand up to run it through his hair, both - trying to fix the curly mess and to make some sense of what had happened. His hand trailed from the head to the neck slowly where the ghost of Phil's touch still lingered. Still half-asleep, it was confusion that filled his mind and his chest felt too tight, too full of everything and it brought a mixture of excitement and dread.

Dan hadn’t even realised that he had closed his eyes, his fingers pressing into the side of his neck a little, until he heard Phil’s voice, “Dan?”

He blinked and let his hand slide away from the neck, and instead he offered Phil a smile, “I'm good.” He eyed the way Phil's fingers were closed around the phone so tight that his knuckles were turning white and shifted to pull himself out of the bed, “Do you want me to stay?”

It was a nod that was enough for Dan to reach out and take Phil's free hand in his once again.

“Hey, mum,” Phil's voice was a surprisingly convincing cheerful and it made Dan wonder how many times Phil had hidden his feelings from him as flawlessly, “How are you?” He paused, as if dreading to ask the following, ”How's dad doing?”

There was a clear sound of a sigh on the other side of the conversation.

Dan just stood there, watching the other boy's profile carefully, watched the way the tension in his shoulders had made him look so much more rigid, and how the earlier strange blush had paled to nonexistent. He felt the way Phil's hold became tighter, even too tight, but Dan just bit his lip and held on.

Then suddenly - it all melted away.

Perhaps it wasn't all of it but the difference was like watching a bloom of the trees sped up in a video. Suddenly the grip loosened to a comfortable one, the shoulders lowered a little, relaxed, and a slight tint of pink appeared on the cheeks again, much more even than before.

And when Phil spoke it was like the fakeness had become truth, the sound smoother than before before he choked at the end of his words, “I'm so glad to hear that.”

It gave hope and Dan tried to catch Phil's gaze by shifting carefully and pulling at his hand gently.

“Yeah, I'll come by later,” Was last he said before the call was over and there was dampness in those blue eyes again, but there was also a smile on those lips.

“They're treating him,” And without another word, Phil enveloped Dan in a tight hug and for the first time since he could remember, Dan felt only comfort in the tight hold.

It was going to be alright.

=====

The clinic seemed awfully quiet, but there was a kind of peace in that and Dan looked over at Phil by his side from below the hood that he had insisted of pulling on despite Phil assuring him that he looked fine.

“I'll see you after the session, okay?” Dan said and felt Phil's fingers squeeze his palm lightly in a quiet confirmation and when their eyes boys met, there was a mutual comfort in the silent exchange.

A shared strength in their differing battles.

“See you,” Phil murmured softly before releasing Dan's hand and turning to leave. Dan watched him disappear around the corner, pocketing his hand like he was trying to conserve the heat that had been there just a moment ago.

So he did the same.

But before Dan could turn the other way, a low buzz from his pocket caught his attention and he pulled out his phone, blinking at the caller ID before picking up, “Hello?”

“Dan,” The voice of the girl was the one that he hadn't expected to hear anytime soon after their last exchange.

“D'aja?”

“I'm worried about Matt, he sent me a strange message and I can't reach him anymore.”

The blood in his veins turned cold at that and his mouth felt dry. A mixture of indecision and dread poured into his limbs and he found himself unsure how to respond.

He eyed the end of the corridor where he knew his appointment time was just about to begin, where his psyche was being pushed and pulled, sometimes gentler than other, trying to make sense within his skull and find peace though it felt like it wasn't doing more than lulling him into oblivion instead.

He could hear his mother, hear Phil, Louise, all encouraging him to seek for the help if he was having trouble.

Maybe, just maybe, he had been doing it the wrong way.

Suddenly it felt like he had found the missing puzzle piece in what truly bothered him. All the loose ends and wounds still left untreated.

He turned away and towards the exit.

“Meet you at his house in fifteen minutes.”

He could worry about the missed appointment later.

[thatsthepan]

Winter Wonderlove

Summary: A winter wonderland. A double date. Hot chocolate. Cheesy songs. A recipe for a fluff fic.

Word Count: 1022 I’m rusty y’all

Warnings: heyo fluff’s back in action for the holidays

Notes: *cough cough* so yeah I haven’t posted a fic since May shhh I know BUT Dan and Phil’s winter wonderland king pic and day with PJ and Sophie was just too cute to resist. And besides my brain’s doing better:) Sooo let me know if I still have my writing skillz and if you like this fic leave a comment or ask, I’d appreciate the heck out of the support😁 Enjoy! ~I’m back~

Dan

“Can we get hot chocolate yet?”

This was-not even kidding-the tenth time Phil had asked this question, and it didn’t help that Sophie and PJ were in full support of the plan.

“Yeah, come on Dan, we’ve taken a thousand pictures and I’m getting frostbitten.”

I rolled my eyes at PJ, snapping another picture of the group and then taking an agonizingly slow selfie for good measure before sighing in defeat, my breath billowing out in a puffy white haze around my head. “Fine. I’m taking more pictures there, though. And my phone’s dead, so you know what that means.”

Phil groaned, tossing his phone at me with no warning whatsoever. If it hadn’t been a bright red arc flipping through the air, it would have ended up shattering into a block of ice ten feet away. I caught it, shooting Phil a look.

“Whoops?” he giggled, and so we were off on our hot chocolate quest.

The winter wonderland was truly beautiful. The way the neon lights glistened through and reflected off of the ice, shimmering around us and sparkling off of every vaguely reflective surface, made it seem as though we were in a totally different world. I’d always loved Christmas lights the most, and the atmosphere they created, but this was a whole other level.

Sophie and PJ were walking ahead of us, swinging their hands and twirling each other occasionally to the Christmas songs that were playing throughout the wonderland. I was covertly holding Phil’s hand as well, but he was too busy being mesmerised by our surroundings to be silly right now. I smiled fondly as I watched him, his eyes lit up like a child’s on Christmas, taking in everything around him and landing on me periodically as they orbited our surroundings. He smiled when they did, his tongue poking out and his eyes squeezing shut a little before going wide again as he looked in awe at the ice sculptures and lights.

If I hadn’t already been in love, I would’ve fallen in love right then.

We eventually found the hot chocolate stand, nestled between far too many sculptures for the heat of the establishment, and placed our orders before taking a few silly pictures on some thrones and such.

“Are we Elsa yet?” Phil asked, and Sophie in particular thought that was hilarious while PJ and I both facepalmed.

We took a break from roaming around while we drank our drinks, taking a few more selfies (courtesy of me) as we did. The one of Phil in I in particular was so adorable that I knew I had to save it for just us-it was one of those moments.

I never understood how Phil could down a hot drink without burning his tongue, but the mystery continued, him nonchalantly drinking away and me warming my face and hands over my cup as it cooled down.

“Are you that cold?” he giggled, and I scrunched up into a ball in response. Phil grinned broadly, his eyes sparkling in the reflective lights with mischief, and took a big gulp of his hot chocolate before leaning over to me, kissing my cold lips with his now-warm ones softly. Our breath billowed between us as we laughed apart, floating into the air like a wish.

“You’re grossly cheesy, you spoon,” I teased.

Phil stuck his tongue between his teeth, grinning away. “I know, you spoon.”

We walked around some more after we finished our drinks, badly singing the songs we knew and making up words to the songs we didn’t.

“On the seventh day of Christmas my true love gave to me…” I looked at Phil, prompting him to finish the lyric.

“A Halloween trick or treat!”

We all burst out laughing, Phil going pink with embarrassment.

“It’s a Christmas song! Not a Halloween song!” PJ gasped, making Sophie laugh twice as hard.

“I don’t know this one! I improvised! And it rhymed.”

We gave him points for that-Phil may have been an English major, but rhyming had never been his strong suit.

I was about to make a corny joke about the Sims series and his mirror butt songs when his eyes lit up, a grin blossoming over his face. “Ice slide!”

Barely having time to look at this alleged ice slide, Phil grabbed my hand and dragged me over to a set of stairs, Sophie and PJ following close behind. At the top, there was none other than a pair of slides, lit up by the lights, and made completely of shimmering ice.

“Our arse’s are gonna freeze,” I muttered, but was smiling broadly as I say beside Phil on the slide parallel to his. I heard a picture snap behind us, and then Phil grabbed my hand, pulling me down the icy slope and letting out a joyful cry as we slid.

“You’re a child!” PJ laughed from the top, and Phil jumped to his feet, giggling again.

“It’s fun!”

And sure enough, both PJ and Sophie were laughing the whole way down, the four of us shivering and bouncing around like a bunch of children on holiday. The best part was, I think I was grinning the most out of all of us.

Phil started singing the next song just to me, which was, ironically enough, “Walking in a Winter Wonderland”.

A beautiful sight

We’re happy tonight…

He changed the next lyric, kissing me on the cheek as he did. “Walking with my winter wonderlove.”

I laughed, kissing him back and then smacking his arm. “I bet you’re soooo proud of that, aren’t you?”

Phil pretended to pout, batting his eyelashes at me. I rolled my eyes, looking at the ground when I spoke. “Fine, it was cute.”

He grinned in triumph, and I poked his side, and he giggled.

“Dork,” I muttered.

“Rat.” He grinned back, bumping me with his hip.

We both knew we meant more, but we were flirting. It was fun. It was the Christmas season, and everything was good. The lights were pretty, Phil was warm, and I was happy.

It was the best feeling in the world.

[onceandfutureflyfisherman]

First 2 Days in TZ

I could tell you about the long flights, the layover in Amsterdam, the delay getting through immigration upon arrival, and the slow drive in darkness to our first hotel in Moshi, but really that was all just typical international travel - i.e, kind of a pain, but necessary to get to a destination.  In the long run, forgettable.  Midnight dinner was kind of a blur.  A few hours sleep, then a new reality. On Monday, I was awakened first by a song-like chanted prayer at about 5 AM and, after another short nap until about 6, by unfamiliar bird cries as dawn crept past my curtains.  Upon awakening the second time, I convinced myself that the prayer chant I'd heard earlier was just a vivid jet-lag-induced dream; it had sounded to me like the voice of my friend Dr. Jeff Carithers, who was staying in the room below me, and I found it hard to imagine that Jeff had sung in a foreign tongue at 5 AM.  At breakfast I mentioned it to someone who informed me that the song was in fact a chant emanating from a nearby mosque.  I was relieved that I hadn't simply hallucinated it, and this revelation reminded me that I was soon to have many previously-unimagined experiences. When I left my room, I noticed a sign that read "Kilimanjaro View" with an arrow pointing down a corridor.  I decided to detour down the corridor, not really expecting to be rewarded because I had heard from several people that Mt. Kilimanjaro is generally not visible through cloud cover.  To my great surprise, substantial parts of the mountain revealed themselves, and we were much closer to it than I expected.  From the hotel balcony, which did in fact offer a fine Kilimanjaro view just as advertised by the sign, the mountain loomed over me with such volcanic mass that I felt vaguely threatened by it.   At breakfast I began to become acquainted with several members of our party of ten who had assembled at the hotel, having arrived from various points in Iowa, Virginia, Queensland (Australia) and, in my case, Pennsylvania.  There wasn't much time to establish rapport - Jeff had invited me to accompany him to a meeting in Arusha, which he said was "not far" from our hotel.  ("Not far" is a phrase used often here, I've learned, and it doesn't exactly mean the same thing as it does in America.)  After a two-hour drive in a tightly packed SUV, we arrived at the Tanzania HQ for World Vision, a U.S.-based Christian organization that funds and sponsors substantial charitable activity in Tanzania and many other countries.  In the Empower Tanzania ("ET") contingent, besides Jeff and me, were Phil Latessa, the U.S.-based Executive Director, Eli Kisimbo, the Tanzanian developmental director, and Efra Nzota, the manager of the women’s health program. I won't bore you with the details of the meeting; a lot of it was the same rigamarole that characterizes all business meetings.  The interesting part of it to me was when Jeff revealed that he had completed ten lengthy educational videos, in Swahili and English, that fully covered a lengthy set of health care topics which World Vision deemed to be important to a network of Tanzanian Community Health Workers (CHWs) it wished to help train.  When Jeff began to sense the appreciation and interest of the World Vision representatives, he pulled out a laptop and showed them a brief sample of a video to illustrated the quality of its content and production, and eyes lit up all around the room.  ET's partnership with World Vision had gotten off to a halting start in the preceding months, and the meeting had been arranged to get it back on track.  ET had completely fulfilled its end of the initial bargain by making these videos, and that made a strong positive impression on World Vision's representatives.  The meeting ended well - there was hope on both sides that an agreement for the dissemination of the videos and a plan for ET's role in the process could be worked out. After lunch and a short visit to the wonderful African cultural center and museum in Arusha, we commenced the five-hour drive to our next hotel.  As we jolted along the highway in 90+ degree temperatures past our first hotel in Moshi and ultimately to our primary destination - a town of 30,000 or so named Same (SAH-may) - I corralled my discomfort by reminding myself that the detour to Arusha was perceived by the ET representatives as worthwhile and productive.  A good beginning, and a good opportunity to witness life along the main road through northeast Tanzania, which is very colorful in ways I hope to describe more in future posts. Those of you who know me probably know little or nothing about ET, in part because I've rarely discussed it, and am only just beginning to understand it myself.  Although I'd like to focus a lot of this blog on my impressions of Tanzania and Tanzanians in general, I would be remiss not to highlight what ET is all about and why I came here in the first place.  The spark for this trip came entirely from the flame that exudes from my long-time, close friend Jeff whenever he speaks to me about ET, which is often.  Over the past eight years or so, Jeff has been coming to Tanzania two or three times a year, usually for periods of two to four weeks at a time.  His passion and commitment for it have grown over the years.  Because of his enthusiastic and infectious personality, it's impossible not to be intrigued by his stories of Tanzania and its people.  So when he invited me to accompany him, how could I not accept? For an overview and some details about what Empower Tanzania does, I refer you to its website - empowertz.org.  I'll just give you the overview of the overview.  As its name implies, the mission of the organization is to promote self-sufficiency for Tanzanians - i.e., to empower them.  The unmet needs of the people, especially in the rural areas such the Same district inhabited by tribes such as the Pare and the Maasai, are legion.  Among the many important elements of life that we tend to take for granted in America and other developed nations are access to clean water and a basic understanding of disease prevention, health care, agriculture and economics.  These elements are sorely lacking in much of Tanzania.  Development in these and many other areas is sorely needed.  ET is a small organization with very limited funds; making a big difference in Tanzania by simply giving away money, goods and services is not a viable strategy and would not likely yield sustainable results.  ET's goal, therefore, is to enable Tanzanians to help themselves, which it has done by sponsoring a variety of development projects and, perhaps most significantly, by educating Tanzanians, especially women, who in turn educate and serve other Tanzanians.  With such an approach, volunteers can leverage their efforts many times over, even with modest funding. What I described may seem abstract, so let me give an example.  Within a typical rural village in the Same district, problems such as child mortality and infectious diseases are very common.  ET has identified representatives from these villages who serve locally as Community Health Workers (CHWs, who provide basic, hands-on health services because trained doctors and nurses are few and far between), and Community Health Educators (CHEs), who help to educate people in their communities about basic principles of health care, for example.  Dr. Jeff Carithers and other volunteers and local staff provide the training and certain simple tools (and a few not-so-simple tools, such as lithium-battery-operated projectors) to enable the CHWs and CHEs to pass on the knowledge to their villages.  So for example, participants learn about how to prevent transmission of germs and viruses, and they give presentations on such topics to members of their villages. In a relatively few years and with barely more than a handful of volunteers from the developed world, ET has already made an enormous difference.  I'll just give you one statistic.  ET monitors its own effectiveness and has determined that, to date, about 700,000 people have attended presentations by ET-trained program participants.  That's a lot of people, and we are talking about education that makes a direct and very important difference in their quality of life.   I'm sorry if this is all a bit dry, but I needed to give you some context for what I expect to write about in future posts in this blog.  I'll leave you with just one little story.  Today I met most of the CDEs during a training session in a conference center in Same town.  One of them was a warm and bright-eyed woman named Monica.  A couple of years ago, Monica was traveling on a remote highway from her village to Same for CDE training.  This isn't terribly common, fortunately, but the vehicle Monica was riding in was set upon by robbers, who beat the car's occupants, inluding Monica, senseless.  She was severely concussed and had major wounds, but when Monica regained consciousness, her first question was whether her projector and its batteries had been stolen.  Although her injuries were severe, Monica recovered and within a few weeks of the attack, she was doing presentations again.  She understands her responsibility to her community in a profound way.  She and her colleagues in the ET programs have witnessed a lot of progress in their communities - disease is waning, more children are living to be adults, childbirth mortality is down.  Monica and people like her are making an enormous difference in the lives of thousands of Tanzanians.  Progress is being made. Thanks to Dr. Jeff, Phil, Eli, Efra and all the other ET volunteers who have welcomed me to Africa.  I look forward to telling you more about what I'm seeing, hearing, tasting, touching and smelling.  Tanzania engages all the senses, and Tanzanians are warm and wonderful people.  There's far too much to write about, but I'll try to convey some highlights.

[torentialtribute]

Paul Scholes reflects on roller-coaster first week as Oldham Athletic manager 

It was an introduction to management for Paul Scholes. After his big revelation last Monday, where the world descended on Boundary Park, the Manchester United legend experienced the euphoria of a flying start 24 hours later.

They are secured a 4 -> 1 victory over his debut dugout Yeovil was put in the package by his lit side. However, a last-minute equalizer from Crewe Alexandra saw Saturday that the feel-good factor hit a hit.

That was followed by a morally-blistering 2-1 defeat at the hands of low Morecambe on a home field that quickly looked like a mud bath on his third outing in seven days made Scholes feel all three emotions during his first week in charge.

Paul Scholes took over the manager of Oldham Athletic earlier in February Many eyebrows were raised when Scholes agreed to take over in the League Two club that he watched with his father as a youth, a club that has experienced decades of deterioration and endures well-reported off-field problems. The suspicion was that Scholes was simply bored of the occasional outing as an expert and wanted to add meaning and competition to his days.

He certainly has that now. & # 39; It has been hectic, & # 39; he said. & # 39; There is not much time to think and there is always something to do. It has made time faster.

& # 39; I'm worried about my (disability), & # 39; he said. & # 39; I can not believe that I have taken up the job and that it has just become fun again! But you still get wednesday and Sunday and I am free. You need something to get rid of. You can not be focused on it all the time. I can save three hours on a Wednesday morning. "

Life at a 15-minute drive from your job can also help." I can still drop my boy at school and pick him up during the tea-time, which is most important to me & # 39 ;, Scholes there. & # 39; There is still plenty of time to relax and concentrate on your family. & # 39;

<! – <![endif]-->

League Two

Premier League

Championship

League One

League Two

Scottish premiership

Scottish Div 1

Scottish Div 2

Scottish Div 3

League 1

Serie A

La Liga

Bundesliga

One of the biggest problems to confront one of the most decorated players in the history of English football while gaining control over life in management is the worn-out town of Oldham, which still suffer from the infamous Pennine climate and a lack of investment.

Schools have already asked to spend money on it – and the further plea speaks volumes about the type of player he was. & # 39; It must be done, & # 39; he said. & # 39; The group of players is technically very good, I know. If you are on a pitch, as we wonder where it is going, you wonder how it will bounce and whether you can control it.

The training field is another concern. Scholes has spent a limited amount of time protecting heavy surfaces and legs, but is reluctant to come across as a groan. "Compared to some teams we are very lucky with what we have," he said. We have more than a lot of clubs at this level and possibly League One, but we absolutely have to invest in pitch and training fields. & # 39;

Scholes takes his men to local rivals Bury, where she is supported by a payout of 3,000. Not only will there be pressure to win, but also to take over a class from & # 39; 92, Phil and Gary Neville, who have long maintained family ties with their home club.

On his second free Sunday, Scholes will settle for a television to watch United Square-off against Liverpool rivals.

Who can ask better than Scholes?

Who can ask better than Scholes?

& # 39; As a Manchester boy, I always thought that City would be the biggest, & # 39; he said. & # 39; They had that period when they were not a direct competitor while Liverpool was always there. The number of titles won is the big thing that keeps rivalry going.

Back to Bury, for whom Scholes says he has prepared himself thoroughly. However, if things do not go according to plan, will he be tempted to dust his own boots? His honesty comes forward again.

& # 39; No & # 39 ;, is the blunt reaction. "I am too old, my legs are gone.

Source link

[chadpetersondatingblog]

8 Couples Halloween Costume Ideas That Perfectly Represent 2017

Remember when the internet declared 2016 the year of the dumpster fire? LOLz. 2017 is the year of actual fires: wild fires and hurricanes have decimated entire communities, tiki torch-wielding white supremacists were called “fine people” by our nefarious dotard, and a “fire and fury” threat triggered Kim Jung Un to re-up his nukes. (Excuse me while I pop a Xanax.) The not-even-really silver lining? From Don and Kim to Don and Ivanka, couple costume ideas 2017 are fit to be lit. (Pun semi-intended.)

As I sit here mulling on how many months are left until the world ends, I realize that now more than ever, Halloween is the escape from reality we all need. I for one am pumped to get dressed up and pretend I’m a kid again for one night. Since 2017 is inherently terrifying, why not go the topical route this 10/31? I love a good pop culture reference in the form of a costume. I would posit that a meme-inspired costume will collect 1.5 times as many Instagram likes as your run-of-the-mill movie character duo. You could just wear a Romphim, or you could grab your salt bae, and pick from this list of 2017/apocalypse-inspired costume ideas together:

1. That La La Land Producer And An Oscar

Get the name wrong? We offer 24hr grace periods to correct minor errors. So you won’t be left in La La Land. #Oscars https://t.co/OJfTN8vOrA http://pic.twitter.com/NVtD9TDeB3

— Ryanair (@Ryanair) February 27, 2017

//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js

An oldie but a goodie. In perhaps one of the few moments of “right” triumphing over “wrong” this year— sorry, La La Land fans — actors Faye Dunaway and Warren Beatty accidentally announced Damien Chazelle’s musical as the winner of “best picture,” when Moonlight had most definitely won. The cringy-est part? The La La Land producers made it all the way up onstage and cradled their Oscars before realizing the mistake. Woof.com.

This costume is simple, especially if you’re dating a boring-looking dude. Just pop him into a tux and then pop yourself into this gold bodysuit. Make sure to make the envelope that correctly reads “Moonlight” as the winner and feed your partner a tequila shot to give them that “excruciatingly-uncomfortable-but-trying-to-be-brave” look. There’s a reason that “SNAFU” is an acronym that stands for “situation normal: all fucked up.”

2. Salt Bae And His Meat

Yeah, you knew this was coming. In a colorful moment of meat-dusting exuberance, Turkish chef Nusret Gökçe became a meme god when he posted a video of him preparing a steak. This sh*t went so viral that Leonardo DiCaprio requested a personalized “show” from Salt Bae himself.

Since Gökçe is nothing without his steak, one of you can be the meat while the other can rock the white tee, retro round sunnies, low ponytail, and draw some facial hair on to complete the look. Your real life bae can wear this cheap AF meat costume and you can throw salt on them all night. (Thought: If you are in a hetero couple, have the dude be the meat and you can be Salt Bae because, #feminism? Maybe?)

3. Dr. Phil And The “Cash Me Outside” Girl

OK, so I’m admittedly the most excited about this because of the dressing up like Dr. Phil part. Still, this strange slew of offenses to the English language was an internet fire-bomb, and it will be more recognizable in a couples costume situation. Your bae’s Dr. Phil outfit will explain why the F you’re wearing those super huge hoop earrings and terrifying claw nails. Add a tank top, make sure your white bra straps show, and straighten your hair to complete the look. Your partner can wear this Dr. Phil wig and mustache and an ill-fitting suit, and you’re good to go.

4. Melania And Michelle On Inauguration Day

Michelle Obama is not impressed by Melania Trump's gift giving ability. http://pic.twitter.com/QxJzQGnQDa

— Adam Johnson (@AdamJ_NBAGL) January 20, 2017

//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js

Melania Trump can wear this or any long-sleeved light blue dress or coat. Michelle Obama can sport a burgundy wool coat. The most important part of this costume? The Tiffany’s box. (Weirdly, you can get them on eBay.) If you’re the “Michelle” in the situation, make sure you perfect the “what-alternate-reality-is-this?” look.

5. The Ryan Gosling Whispering Meme

gosling literally had her SHOOK and ready to dump her fiancé on live television lmao #oscars http://pic.twitter.com/v4KSO8ABFY

— joseph™ (@maloonds) February 27, 2017

//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js

Remember the bizarre “let’s parade some plebes by the stage!” moment at the Oscars this year? That was gross. Still, it produced a great meme that you and your partner can recreate easily. All you need is a gray hoodie, black windbreaker, a selfie stick, and a look on your face that says, “Holy sh*t, Ryan Gosling’s warm whisper is in my ear right now.” For Gosling, a tux and smug look will do. Definitely act the moment out.

6. BBC Dad And His Toddler

I LOVED this clip and may have watched it upwards of 14 times in a row. The moment the daughter busts into her dad’s home office like she was busting into the club on a Saturday (yes, I stole that from the meme-version of the incident) had me on the crest of peeing my pants every time.

Here’s the thing: You can dress as the BBC dad in any navy blazer and red tie — I personally think you should be pantless in true WFH fashion — and his yellow-shirted, kiddie-glasses-wearing daughter, OR you can choose to be the baby boy who comes in hot on wheels. The second baby seems tricky though, unless you can somehow fit this around your mid-section somehow. (Or put a baby doll in a walker on a leash and pull it around.)

7. The Distracted Boyfriend Meme

http://pic.twitter.com/Ll1gM4N84J

— Reverend Scott (@Reverend_Scott) August 23, 2017

//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js

One of the more solid memes of the year, the Distracted Boyfriend costume is super easy to put together, especially if you are in a couple IRL. The “distracted boyfriend” just needs this shirt and the “girlfriend” just needs this light blue top. Add a blow up doll — I’ll let you Google that one on your own — in a red shirt and the meme is complete.

8. Kellyanne Conway And A Couch

I have so many questions about this photo, but chief among them is why nobody is telling Kellyanne Conway to get her damn feet off the couch http://pic.twitter.com/tU0CBS36Fe

— Rex Huppke (@RexHuppke) February 28, 2017

//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js

Ah, yes, the moment we knew we were all in good hands (feet). Putting your feet on a couch in the oval office is perhaps the ultimate “F you” to the haters. The couch component of this costume is tricky, but I found a very in-depth couch-costume manual here. For Kellyanne, wear this dress and skin-tone socks/shoes on your feet. Was she wearing shoes? Who knows. Also, iPhone required.

OK, so that is the best I could do in terms of 2017-specific costumes. I hope you and the Kellyanne to your couch find a ridiculous and relevant costume to match the year we are in. If none of these float your boat, don’t worry, because you know something ridiculous is going to happen between now and October 31. Happy never-ending Halloween, America!

Subscribe to Elite Daily’s official newsletter, The Edge, for more stories you don’t want to miss.

8 Couples Halloween Costume Ideas That Perfectly Represent 2017

from Meet Positives http://ift.tt/2xuytQ6 via IFTTT

[ashleyjacksonblog]

8 Couples Halloween Costume Ideas That Perfectly Represent 2017

Remember when the internet declared 2016 the year of the dumpster fire? LOLz. 2017 is the year of actual fires: wild fires and hurricanes have decimated entire communities, tiki torch-wielding white supremacists were called “fine people” by our nefarious dotard, and a “fire and fury” threat triggered Kim Jung Un to re-up his nukes. (Excuse me while I pop a Xanax.) The not-even-really silver lining? From Don and Kim to Don and Ivanka, couple costume ideas 2017 are fit to be lit. (Pun semi-intended.)

As I sit here mulling on how many months are left until the world ends, I realize that now more than ever, Halloween is the escape from reality we all need. I for one am pumped to get dressed up and pretend I’m a kid again for one night. Since 2017 is inherently terrifying, why not go the topical route this 10/31? I love a good pop culture reference in the form of a costume. I would posit that a meme-inspired costume will collect 1.5 times as many Instagram likes as your run-of-the-mill movie character duo. You could just wear a Romphim, or you could grab your salt bae, and pick from this list of 2017/apocalypse-inspired costume ideas together:

1. That La La Land Producer And An Oscar

Get the name wrong? We offer 24hr grace periods to correct minor errors. So you won’t be left in La La Land. #Oscars https://t.co/OJfTN8vOrA http://pic.twitter.com/NVtD9TDeB3

— Ryanair (@Ryanair) February 27, 2017

//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js

An oldie but a goodie. In perhaps one of the few moments of “right” triumphing over “wrong” this year— sorry, La La Land fans — actors Faye Dunaway and Warren Beatty accidentally announced Damien Chazelle’s musical as the winner of “best picture,” when Moonlight had most definitely won. The cringy-est part? The La La Land producers made it all the way up onstage and cradled their Oscars before realizing the mistake. Woof.com.

This costume is simple, especially if you’re dating a boring-looking dude. Just pop him into a tux and then pop yourself into this gold bodysuit. Make sure to make the envelope that correctly reads “Moonlight” as the winner and feed your partner a tequila shot to give them that “excruciatingly-uncomfortable-but-trying-to-be-brave” look. There’s a reason that “SNAFU” is an acronym that stands for “situation normal: all fucked up.”

2. Salt Bae And His Meat

Yeah, you knew this was coming. In a colorful moment of meat-dusting exuberance, Turkish chef Nusret Gökçe became a meme god when he posted a video of him preparing a steak. This sh*t went so viral that Leonardo DiCaprio requested a personalized “show” from Salt Bae himself.

Since Gökçe is nothing without his steak, one of you can be the meat while the other can rock the white tee, retro round sunnies, low ponytail, and draw some facial hair on to complete the look. Your real life bae can wear this cheap AF meat costume and you can throw salt on them all night. (Thought: If you are in a hetero couple, have the dude be the meat and you can be Salt Bae because, #feminism? Maybe?)

3. Dr. Phil And The “Cash Me Outside” Girl

OK, so I’m admittedly the most excited about this because of the dressing up like Dr. Phil part. Still, this strange slew of offenses to the English language was an internet fire-bomb, and it will be more recognizable in a couples costume situation. Your bae’s Dr. Phil outfit will explain why the F you’re wearing those super huge hoop earrings and terrifying claw nails. Add a tank top, make sure your white bra straps show, and straighten your hair to complete the look. Your partner can wear this Dr. Phil wig and mustache and an ill-fitting suit, and you’re good to go.

4. Melania And Michelle On Inauguration Day

Michelle Obama is not impressed by Melania Trump's gift giving ability. http://pic.twitter.com/QxJzQGnQDa

— Adam Johnson (@AdamJ_NBAGL) January 20, 2017

//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js

Melania Trump can wear this or any long-sleeved light blue dress or coat. Michelle Obama can sport a burgundy wool coat. The most important part of this costume? The Tiffany’s box. (Weirdly, you can get them on eBay.) If you’re the “Michelle” in the situation, make sure you perfect the “what-alternate-reality-is-this?” look.

5. The Ryan Gosling Whispering Meme

gosling literally had her SHOOK and ready to dump her fiancé on live television lmao #oscars http://pic.twitter.com/v4KSO8ABFY

— joseph™ (@maloonds) February 27, 2017

//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js

Remember the bizarre “let’s parade some plebes by the stage!” moment at the Oscars this year? That was gross. Still, it produced a great meme that you and your partner can recreate easily. All you need is a gray hoodie, black windbreaker, a selfie stick, and a look on your face that says, “Holy sh*t, Ryan Gosling’s warm whisper is in my ear right now.” For Gosling, a tux and smug look will do. Definitely act the moment out.

6. BBC Dad And His Toddler

I LOVED this clip and may have watched it upwards of 14 times in a row. The moment the daughter busts into her dad’s home office like she was busting into the club on a Saturday (yes, I stole that from the meme-version of the incident) had me on the crest of peeing my pants every time.

Here’s the thing: You can dress as the BBC dad in any navy blazer and red tie — I personally think you should be pantless in true WFH fashion — and his yellow-shirted, kiddie-glasses-wearing daughter, OR you can choose to be the baby boy who comes in hot on wheels. The second baby seems tricky though, unless you can somehow fit this around your mid-section somehow. (Or put a baby doll in a walker on a leash and pull it around.)

7. The Distracted Boyfriend Meme

http://pic.twitter.com/Ll1gM4N84J

— Reverend Scott (@Reverend_Scott) August 23, 2017

//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js

One of the more solid memes of the year, the Distracted Boyfriend costume is super easy to put together, especially if you are in a couple IRL. The “distracted boyfriend” just needs this shirt and the “girlfriend” just needs this light blue top. Add a blow up doll — I’ll let you Google that one on your own — in a red shirt and the meme is complete.

8. Kellyanne Conway And A Couch

I have so many questions about this photo, but chief among them is why nobody is telling Kellyanne Conway to get her damn feet off the couch http://pic.twitter.com/tU0CBS36Fe

— Rex Huppke (@RexHuppke) February 28, 2017

//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js

Ah, yes, the moment we knew we were all in good hands (feet). Putting your feet on a couch in the oval office is perhaps the ultimate “F you” to the haters. The couch component of this costume is tricky, but I found a very in-depth couch-costume manual here. For Kellyanne, wear this dress and skin-tone socks/shoes on your feet. Was she wearing shoes? Who knows. Also, iPhone required.

OK, so that is the best I could do in terms of 2017-specific costumes. I hope you and the Kellyanne to your couch find a ridiculous and relevant costume to match the year we are in. If none of these float your boat, don’t worry, because you know something ridiculous is going to happen between now and October 31. Happy never-ending Halloween, America!

Subscribe to Elite Daily’s official newsletter, The Edge, for more stories you don’t want to miss.

8 Couples Halloween Costume Ideas That Perfectly Represent 2017

from Meet Positives http://ift.tt/2xuytQ6 via IFTTT