#jelloasks

[whereismyjello]

I unfortunately said from the start that Carlos was Shane…

Yearning brunette with bottom eyes and in love with a chiseled white boi?

YOU GOT THAT RIGHT!

[whereismyjello]

What would Jannik think if some journalist made him see that Carlos’s picture? The one where Carlos is ass up face 🥺

The fact that this is visible to the entire world has him malding and shaking and crying and cooming, anon, trust

He snatched the magazine out of the journalist's hands and tried to blind that journalist sorry to say

[whereismyjello]

The thing is that Jannik and Carlos are much better period. Sure some players (mainly Zverev) just choke and lose the match before it even starts. But it’s not always like that. They can fight all they want but in the end, right now, it’s not enough.

You got Fonseca and Jodar fighting like hell against Jannik. Against Carlos even more players turn up with their A game… but even if they get one set from him, they can’t maintain that level through the whole match and if it’s a five setter even worse, especially against Carlos. You can’t just assume the whole tour doesn’t fight enough. I really don’t understand that vision.

Regarding wta, I understand even less… you say you like competitiveness and fighting spirit and then you say you don’t watch the women who have so much more pairity and you never really know who’ll win. So I’m sorry but that does stink of misoginy and probably just liking to watch men’s sports from a more sexual/sensual pov. You like men so you like watching men’s sports and that’s okay, it’s as valid as any… just don’t claim women’s matches aren’t interesting enough.

I will spell out many things for you, anon

I value competitiveness but want to watch only the best in their disciplines. This is what entertains me. Women are simply not playing tennis at the level that men are. This is fact, not misogyny. However. Lower ranked (MALE) players also do not play at the level that entertains me. So I don't watch them either. I watch the best, i.e. Carlos Alcaraz and Jannik Sinner. The only other player I watch is Learner Tien, who is a local boy and plays meticulous, beautiful tennis. The only reason I ever watch other players is in relation to Carlos Alcaraz and Jannik Sinner.

But I can still APPRECIATE any tennis that shows competitiveness. Just because I don't seek it out doesn't mean I dismiss it. Women's tennis and lower-ranked men's tennis and yes, even tennis at the park between two amateurs, can be competitive and beautiful. I don't eat pickles, but once, a friend told me to try these pickles at lunch because they were tasty and -- indeed -- they were. I said as much and ate. Does that mean I now regularly eat pickles? No, I still do not prefer how most taste. But a good pickle. Well. Of course I'll eat it. I'll eat anything tasty.

3. I don't give a SHIT about athletes in any sexual sense once they're on the court, field, etc. It actually IRRITATES the hell out of me when people are obviously fans of players for their looks. Who cares????? Have you SEEN Carlos' forehand? Or Jannik's backhand? Do you know the joy of watching one of Carlos' point constructions five moves in advance and then watching him execute it flawlessly? Sex is meaningless to me on a battlefield. Only that the gladiators kill each other.

They're attractive, but so are the women.

All that matters to me is their tennis.

Lastly. I agree Jannik and Carlos are far superior to the rest of the tour and some things can't be helped. But some things, too, can be helped. And one wonders. Well. Are they helping themselves?

[whereismyjello]

Did you ever thought about Carlos on a skirt? A fic with Carlos in a skirt? Not suggesting anything cough I’m lying cough

Carlos who wears baggy shorts and is one of the jockiest boys on tour? No. But for an ATP media thing, like the men try on women's kits and see if they can play in them. I'll do it for you, anon:

The Queen's social media team got four men to agree to the concept.

Taylor, who was spurred on by Morgan, and was already used to putting himself through the humiliation ritual of regularly streaming League.

Novak, who was old and proven, and had already put on various wigs and made a spectacle of himself enough times that this would just be another silly thing on a long list of silly things.

Andrey, who -- when it came down to it -- really had no shame about his manhood. He was married, and happily so, and did not think this kind of thing determined his worth.

And of course. Carlos.

Carlos agreed to put on a tennis skirt and see how he would perform in a women's kit because -- well -- Carlos Alcaraz Garfia was always game to play.

---

Four was a good number. They could play doubles that way. They paired Taylor with Andrey, and Carlos with Novak, which Taylor had protested -- "Well we just don't have a chance then!" -- but Novak had retorted, "If you can't beat an old guy like me then what are you doing!"

Andrey and Carlos had nearly cried from laughter at everyone's final look. Hairy arms and legs, thick and muscular, unusual in the efficient grace of a women's kit.

"You look like a real girl. With the hair." Novak stroked Andrey's head once, twice.

Carlos smiled, then fought the urge to adjust himself. He shifted from one foot to another. In fact, they looked like themselves.

He pulled at the fabric on his chest. At the pleats of the skirt. "It's a little tight," he commented.

"Yeah, will show your ass much better that way, Carlitos," Taylor said, smacking him on it.

Carlos laughed and smacked him back. "Yours is better, pendejo!"

It was strange, that the women's kits were so different than theirs. It was not the case in many other sports. Golf and basketball and fútbol.

The video was a good idea. If only to show how ridiculous the expectation was. To still dress like a girl, when you needn't be anything but an athlete.

Anyway, the four of them played like that. In form-fitting polyester, and making sure everyone knew they weren't taking it that seriously.

Well, except for Carlos, who loved tennis too much to play anything less than his best.

---------

Jannik, who was in Halle at the time, saw the video one evening.

Nothing significant about that particular evening, one of many in between matches. He was winding down for sleep when the Queen's Insta popped up on his feed and the two seconds of the clip he saw were so absurd, he immediately had to stop and stare.

It was Carlos in a skirt.

Well, it was Carlos and Novak and Taylor and Andrey in a skirt.

But, really, it was --

-- it was a very short, tight skirt. Considering.

Considering that they were playing tennis, and there was a lot of --

-- lunging, and running, and leaping, and Carlos sliding across the hardcourt, and he looked the same, just the same as across the net from Jannik, except

-- he was doing it all with the pale meat of his legs obscene and exposed, the top too tight and stretched across his nipples and --

Jannik was hard. Just like that.

He thought, maybe, he had fallen asleep and was having some kind of sex-fevered dream, but, no -- there was -- there was Carlos' groan echoing across the asphalt and into the air and there was no recreating that sound accurately other than have it come out of the man's own mouth.

Carlos' wide open, panting mouth. Bright laughing eyes, same as always, same as always, except --

Jannik stared and stared and stared and noticed that he could quite clearly see the outline of Carlos' cock and balls in the skirt.

He was pushing down his sleep pants, kicking them off before he even realized it, and Carlos was reaching in between his legs and pulling out the shorts under the skirt to adjust them.

Jannik moaned.

Wow, I wrote a lot of it didn't I. ;) ;) ;)

[whereismyjello]

May interest you in a novaklitos side quest? Because if Carlos is jealous why Jannik couldn’t be jealous also?

Jannik will be very very jealous. Of someone. Promise. ;) ;) ;) ;)

Novaklitos! Ah, in Liege, Novak will play a very significant part that will cause mucho angsto for sure. STAY TUNED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

heeeheeheeheeeeeeeee

[whereismyjello]

Something people fail to understand about Carlos is that he is incredibly ambitious and also has an innate understanding on how to work crowds and create a storyline. He is a natural showman. He has always wanted to be the Greatest and he knows that part of being the Greatest in tennis includes having Epic but Gentlemanly Fedal-esque rivalry. And he chose Jannik from early on because he knows ball.

Yes, this is RPF so we make these characteristics and basic facts gay but this ties into the earlier conversation about the fandom flattening him into being a dumb dickmatised puppy. It's so much more interesting if he's portrayed as all those other fascinating things and also gay asf.

EXACTLY! EXACTLY EXACTLY!!!!!

This is what I'm talking about. Give him depth. Give him drama. Give him tension. Give him brat but also kindness but also intelligence but also dumb??? He's all this and more.

[whereismyjello]

In that video Carlos is literally presenting as an omega 😭😭😭

he knows what jannik wants. Jannik was bricked up in that moment for sure

[whereismyjello]

a tiny liege snippet pretty please? 🥺

(i love the way you write btw i get totally immersed into the story it feels like i am actually there watching the scenes unfold)

The wool of the rug was supple against Jannik’s palms. He felt the weave of it against his knees, the slight scratch where it had been worn by years of soles. He settled his hands flat, slightly wider than his shoulders, and bowed his head.

Above him, Carlos made a sound. Barely a breath. It might have been Jannik's name.

Jannik stayed where he was. He did not look up. He had put himself there and he would wait.

Carlos did not move. Jannik could hear his own breathing, the faint crackle of the candle on the chest, the distant sound of the fountain in the courtyard below. 

Then Carlos moved. The wool rustled as he shifted his weight. And then the boots appeared in Jannik's field of vision. Good leather, dark and scuffed at the toes, the mud from the cell still drying in the cracks of the heels.

Carlos stopped directly in front of him. Close enough that Jannik could smell him -- the rosemary and salt of the capons from dinner, the mildew of the cells. He had not had occasion to bathe tonight, and the whiff of his sweat made something clench in Jannik’s stomach. 

Carlos' hand came to rest on the top of his head. The weight of it was light, almost tentative. 

"Look at me."

Jannik lifted his face.

Carlos looked down at him. The candlelight was behind him, casting his face in shadow, but Jannik could see the gleam of his eyes, the slight parting of his lips. He looked the way he had looked on the Feast of Santiago, when he had winked at Jannik across the heads of the court -- pleased, and hungry, and sure. 

But there was something else underneath it. Something like wonder.

"You are beautiful," Carlos said.

Jannik's throat tightened. 

Carlos' hand slid from the top of Jannik’s head down the back of his skull, cupping the nape of his neck. The thumb traced where his hair met his skin. 

"I have dreamed of this," Carlos said. He leaned in and whispered in Jannik’s ear, "Do you know that? I have dreamed of you on your knees in front of me, and I have woken hard and wanting.” 

Jannik's eyes burned. He blinked. The candlelight blurred at the edges.

“Carlos.” His voice was hoarse. “Please.”