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[wosofutbolfan]

If You Need Me, Call Me

Alexia Putellas x Explorer!R Pt.2 in the 'I Would Climb Every Mountain With You' Universe.

Hi Guys, Thank you for all the love on the first part in this series. This is part 2 that I didn't expect to write. I have an inability to not write angst. TW: Claustrophobia. Injury. Events are not based on any real life events. Part two of I Would Climb Every Mountain With You. I would recommend you read that first, for some context. But you can do what you want really ;-)

You and Alexia had been together, happily, for a year. And it was happily. Though. ‘Together’ is probably being quite liberal with the word. And. You suppose. ‘Happily’ is also being quite liberal with the word. You loved Alexia. 

And Alexia loved you. 

That was clear to both of you. You admitted it early, before she’d even left UK soil after she’d come back with you from your first meeting. She’d rolled her eyes at you and the nerves on your face as you lay in bed together in your pokey Cumbrian flat, and kissed the words from your lips; ‘well duh, of course you do. And I love you.’ which made you laugh and fall into her lips again. But it wasn’t even 12 hours later that you’d had to separate with her season starting again and her need to be in Spain. Her teammates had teased her relentlessly on her return. How she’d U-Hauled with the Jefa de montaña and ran away to the rainey island she so famously disliked just to spend another day together. She'd rolled her eyes and slapped the back of a few heads but it was true. That is what she had done. She’d been overjoyed when she spotted you in the crowd on the first home game of the season. You’d made the surprise trip to Barcelona at the last minute, employing Ingrid to get a ticket in the friends and family section for you. The smile on the Captain's face as she spotted you could be seen from space. You had winked at her and proudly gestured to your brand new Barcelona jersey, Alexias number proudly splayed across your back. As the game ended, with a convincing win for the home team, she’d made a beeline for you in the stands. Jumping over the barrier and embracing you like you hadn’t seen each other for months (oh how used to that feeling you would become), rather than a couple of weeks. “I thought that you preferred rugby?” she had teased you. “Ah, I do, but no one told me how hot the captain in blue and red was” you’d replied, with a wink. Enjoying the blush you’d created on her face, before it was your turn to blush as Alexias eyes darted to your right and greeted, “Mami! Hola!” and embraced a small women in a shirt matching yours who was definitely standing within hearing distance. Just over her shoulder a carbon-copy of Alexia was lurking, a childlike grin on her face and twinkle in her eyes. “Ah, and this is mi hermana Alba!” she had introduced you. ‘Well, nothing like diving in headfirst’ you thought to yourself, as you were introduced to your apparently-new girlfriend's family, as that's what you had just been introduced as, with a squeeze of your hand and a kiss to the side of your head. The Putellas family embraced you with all the enthusiasm in the world. Alba kept you entertained and asked you a million and one questions as you waited for Alexia to be finished with her media and captain duties. Before you knew it you were at an impromptu meet-the-new-english-girlfriend party at the Putellas residence, sharing food with seemingly everyone who had ever been related to Alexia as well as their next door neighbours. Sharing wine, food, and lots of baby Alexia pictures. So yes. You had both moved fast. Maybe it was the speed which you were going that would soon become your downfall. You were moving a million miles an hour and the warning signs were a blur that you couldn’t quite make out. Of those first 6 months, you were on an exhibition for 4. You had travelled to Patagonia to climb some of the last unclaimed peaks on the planet with the National Geographic Society. They were unreachable by road or even yak. You had to sail to the bottom of South America and then move your way up on foot.  It was arduous, it was treacherous, but you found satisfaction and joy in the difficulty.

You become the first person and only woman to ever summit Orjos del Salado and, as you snapped a picture at the top, all you thought was how excited you were to share your achievement with Alexia. As you’d called her a week later from a dive-bar in a shanty town in central Argentina you could hear the pride and relief in her voice, even through the terrible connection. It was the first time you had been able to contact her in a month.

But you’d gone straight from there to leading some American businessmen through the Amazon on a 3 week river and hiking exploration. It paid handsomely, you’d explained to the disappointed blonde, you couldn’t turn it down.

You returned to Barcelona in time to spend a week together before Alexia left for a two week international camp.  Which was then followed by a week long trip for her to Norway, as part of their group stage champions league campaign.

You’d joined her there, soaking as much time together as possible between her matches and training sessions. Maybe it was then that the cracks had begun to show. As you had woken early to pick her up from her hotel to go for an early morning walk and grab some coffee before her media duties. You had been walking hand in hand in the early morning sunshine. You had been half-way through a story from the day before, where you and Ingrid's mum had gone together to a lake outside of Oslo, when you felt her drop your hand suddenly and took a half step away from you. “Huh?” you looked at her and a look you hadn’t seen before took over her features, “What’s going on Ale?”. “Trust me” was all she’d replied, and then it had become apparent her problem as a swarm of fans suddenly engulfed her, asking for selfies and autographs, which she gave out, graciously. She skillfully extracted herself from the situation before you both continued on your way, but now, you noticed, you were at least a foot further apart and a weird atmosphere had taken over you both. It had been when you were both safely in the cafe that you’d addressed it, “are you ashamed of me?” you asked, unable to mask the hurt in your voice. Hands safely wrapped around your Tea. “No!” she’d replied, aghast, as she pulled your hands from your mug into her own. “mírame cariño” you did, and saw the heartbreaking look in her eyes. “I would never be ashamed of you. Do not think that for one moment.” she said it with such conviction that you couldn’t help but nod. “I am sorry, but it is easier. For you. The media. They will pry into your life. It’s happened before with… partners and… I don’t want that for you. For your family. I love you.” “I won’t hide Ale.” you replied. Firmly. You were a free spirit. It was not in your nature to hide yourself, any part of yourself, for anything or anyone. The thought of it made you claustrophobic. “I know you won’t.” she huffed out a laugh, “I do not want us to hide. I promise. But, maybe, if we do not make their job easy for them? Can we do that?”. The look of desperation on her face broke your heart. “Bueno Ale. Para ti. Yo también te amo.” You’d gone your separate ways from there, you had explorations to complete, she was busy with the team. She’d managed to visit England for a few days when her UCWL matches lined up, and you started to return to Barcelona, rather than Cumbria, as a home base between trips. And that's how it had gone for some time. Your birthday had passed, you’d spent it together in Barcelona, Ale having stolen your trusty-old boots and had them professionally repaired and re-waxed. As she presented them to you, on her balcony with a cute bow on top, your heart expanded in joy. She got you. She knew you didn’t want new-top of the range boots that she definitely could afford. This actually was harder, she’d had to research the dying-art of cobblers in the area. She had to sneak them out of your duffell bag, she must have distracted you every time you went for them as your go-to walking shoes in the week. With all her money and fame. She understood that wasn’t you. You loved what you had. And she got that. As you had turned the boots in your hands, taking in all of the familiarity in all their glory and feeling the waxy leather beneath your fingers she couldn’t read your face. “I hope you don’t mind” she’d taken them gently from your hands and she pulled back the tongue, which showed a piece of jersey sewn into the backing-fabric. Blue and red, with a white AP11 embroidered into it. “It's from my first champions league shirt. I cut a swatch off, and had them sew it in…” she whispered. The moment had been heavy. “I know we don’t get to spend time together like most couples, but this way, I’ll always be with you.” Your throat had burned with the effort to keep your tears at bay, you were unsuccessful when you felt her warm hand cup your face and wipe a tear away,

“I’m sorry, It’s probably way too intrusive and I shouldn’t have taken your stuff, I can ta…” You’d silenced her with a kiss. Intense and hungry. “This is the most thoughtful gift I have ever had. I love you Ale. I love you so much.”  “Good.”... you both take a moment to look into each other's eyes, then you feel a movement as she reaches into her pocket and presents proudly what she’s pulled out, eyes shining with mirth “Then maybe you will consider these laces too, no?” and you burst out laughing whilst you take in the Blaugrana coloured hiking laces. You’ve not got it in you to not agree. But love sometimes isn’t enough. Time passed. You continued your work and she continued hers. Valentines days spent on opposite sides of the globe. You weren’t there when she won the Champions League, instead spending it watching it in a bar in Jordan. She wasn’t there as you returned from reaching an undiscovered island as part of a research crew in the South Pacific, instead being in Munich to film a new Nike ad. When you were together you couldn’t walk the streets of Barcelona hand in hand. You’d kept your promise and she kept hers. You weren’t hidden, but you weren’t showcasing your relationship. When she came to England you had more freedom, the people of Cumbia didn’t know who the Spanish superstar was, they just knew her as your girlfriend. Your fit girlfriend according to the teenage boy who lived next door to your mum. You made it work though, between you. You would send her snaps every time you saw children playing football. Pictures from south pacific islands to the mountain villages of the Himalayas, and every time you would receive the same response; “See, el deporte del mundo, I told you <3” It was a perfect storm. What happened. You’d spent a month in Barcelona, more time that you had been able to spend together in the year you’d been a couple. You’d fallen into a domesticity that you hadn’t experienced before. 

Alexia would train, you would have dinner ready for her. She would wake you up with a cup of Tea from her new kettle she's bought especially for you. You would plan routes and give advice to your online contacts about expeditions they had planned. You would sleep wrapped in each other's arms, Alexia would even let you be the big spoon, very occasionally. 

It felt perfect.  Until one, simple comment.

“Ay, look at you, wifey!” Mapi had exclaimed from her place at the table as you brought in the dinner you had prepared for the group,  you had invited her and Ingrid for a couples night, “who would have thought, “La jefa de la montaña. Tamed!” “Shut up Maria.” Ingrid nudged her girlfriend, with a kind smile she turned to you, “This looks delicious! Thank you” As the group tucked in though, you were distracted. Suddenly, the weight of Alexia's hand on your thigh felt heavy. The walls, too constricting. For you, the heat of Barcelona started to become oppressive. Too predictable. You missed England, you missed not knowing what the weather would be hour by hour. The contact blue skies felt like a false--happiness was being forced on you. The ground at your feet, sun dried, felt harsh compared to the muddy grass you had grown up stomping on. Soft, flexible. The routine started to bore you. You missed the weight of your backpack and the freedom of slinging up your hammock. Alexia hadn’t missed the way you had clammed up, the tenseness in your posture, the way your laugh did not reach your eyes for the rest of that evening. For the weeks following she felt like keeping you was like trying to catch smoke. Like trying to hold sand in her bare hands. She could feel you escape through her fingers for the next few weeks.

Which is why she wasn’t surprised when she returned from an away trip to Mallorca to see you on the couch. Hands nervously twisting and unable to meet her eye.

“You’re going again, aren't you?” she asked, as she dropped her bag at the door and settled next to you, taking your hands in hers. You nodded.

“I’m sorry Ale. It's just. It's not me.” you’d explained then, how you had been feeling. And she listened. Even though she knew. Of course she already knew.

“It’s okay, carino.” you’d assured you. You’d look up then, “it is?”

“Si, Mi Vida. I would never ask you to change. And only you would be bored of the life of a professional footballer, and you must be the only English person to ever complain about the weather in Barcelona” she’d lightened the mood with her joke, and rolled her eyes good naturedly.

“Where are you going this time?” she’d continued, and she should have known from your pause that this wasn’t the usual goodbye.

“Everest.”

“Everest.”  She’d reperated. Joy in her voice, she knew it was your life’s ambition to climb the world's highest summit. “...and Denali, and Elbrus...” you had continued to name the 7 highest summits on each continent that you would spend the next 18 months climbing, without oxygen, as part of an international exploration. Silence filled the apartment. “I….” “No.” “No?” you asked, shock in your voice. “No, what?” “No, you can’t do that. It's too dangerous.” “But Ale…” “No. No ‘but Ale’. I get it. I have been your partner now for long enough. I understand. But this is too much. No oxygen, so many climbs… there is too much danger. No.” her tone firm. Final. Her Captain's voice. And that had made the walls feel like they were closing in for you. And you responded like a wild animal, backed into a corner, defensive. “I wasn’t asking.” She let out a frustrated groan, hands covering her face. “Carino, please no. Listen to me. Being with you…” a huff again… “it is hard.” “Oh well, I am sorry Alexia, if being with me is such a chore…” you started. “No, stop, you are not letting me speak…” but you had started at that point. “You are not the one who is hidden away, you aren’t one who has had to move countries, to miss her family, your life hasn’t changed! You’ve given up nothing for this relationship.” you hiss out at her, hardly recognising your own voice. You're speaking just to hurt her. To make this easier for both of you. And that final sentence, seems to be what breaks the usually cool and calm exterior of your girlfriend and she stands and points her finger at you. “Nothing! ¡nada! ¿Cómo te atreves?” she spits out at you, the anger in her tone surprises you, you have never heard her speak like this, “I have sat here and waited. For months I have waited. For anything from you. Being with you is not like a long-distance relationship. You go, for months at a time, you go. And you expect me to sit here and wait. And I do. You do not text, you do not call. I understand that you cannot but do not say I have made no sacrifice for this relationship. When you got lost in the Gobi desert for weeks, what do you think I was doing? Sitting here! Jumping out of my skin every time the phone rang in case it was your Mami telling me you had been found dead. I did not play in The Copa De La Reinga final because I was so sick with worry. He hecho sacrificio. mi equipo, mi familia ha hecho sacrificio and I will not let you disrespect me or them and let you say otherwise.” 

Alexia doesn’t lose any of her anger in her tirade. And the silence that settles over the apartment is heavy. She seems to have surprised herself, as her eyes go wide and she opens her mouth again… but you interrupt her. “No Ale. Do not apologise.” you hold your hand up. “I didn’t think. I'm sorry. You are right. I am not good for you.” This is why you didn’t do relationships. You were a bad partner. You needed to be free, outside, exploring. You lived for adventure. It wasn’t fair.

“No! No Carino, that is not what I said!” tears are in her eyes now, and you knew this would be hard, but you didn’t know it would be this hard. “I love you...” “I love you too,” she quickly replies. Neither of you had even been shy with your affirmations to each other. “I love you so much Ale. But I have to go and do this. I have too. It is who I am. It is my dream. It.. It is my world cup.” She huffs out a laugh as she gently nudges herself into your arms, your attempt at speaking in a way she would understand humouring her. “I know.” she replies, sadly, “but I cannot go through that for 18 months mi amor. I cannot.” “And I won’t ask you to, love.” You move a strand of hair from her face as you kiss her lips, gently, there's a finality in it, you open your mouth again but she cuts in. “I can’t say anything that will stop you, can i?” she asks, as you shake your head, sadly. “When do you leave?” You cringe as you confirm her worst thoughts, “tomorrow.” She takes a deep breath and presses her face into your neck. “Can we do one thing before you go?” she asks you. 

Anything. You would give this woman in your arms anything she asked for at that moment. Apart from stay. And that's how you found yourself swinging on your old lightweight hammock. 

Strung up securely in the Putellas back yard. As you lay on your (ex?) girlfriend's chest, as you both looked up at the stars. You chatted into the night, you laughed and you cried. You fumbled under the blankets like horny teenagers. She asked you to promise to contact when you could. And you asked her to not worry, to concentrate on the Olympics and move on from you. You kept it to yourself that there was no way you were moving on from her.  You didn't know she was keeping the same thing to herself as she promised you she would try.

It was the weirdest break up anyone had ever had.

And, 17 months later, as you lay, trapped, entombed in your own coffin of ice,  you were sure that you could still feel the sway of that hammock, feel the heat of that Barcelona evening and hear the cicadas chirping. As the ice pressed all around you, all you could dream of was being back in that back yard in Barcelona, in the arms of Alexia.

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Denali. Done. Vinson. Done.

Aconcagua, Kilimanjaro, Elbrus, Puncak Jaya . Done, Done, Done and Done. You’d faced the heat of Africa, the remoteness of Antarctica, the desolation of Russia. And here you were, finally, on your final summit. Everest. It was somewhat of a dichotomy between the mountaineering community. Everest had become a commercial hub. Have-a-go mountaineers paying big bucks to get a free ride to the highest mountain in the world. But to you, it had always been sacred. You had imagined it, as you climbed hills in the English lakes as a teenager, of one day scaling the iconic mountain. So, why? As you stood on the highest point of earth. After 3 months of acclimatisation. Were you thinking of your ex-girlfriend? Who were you kidding? You knew why. 

Alexia hadn’t been far from your thoughts on any of your summits. Her face popping into your mind at each peak. As you pocketed some rock as had become your tradition you would imagine her face as your hand touched the earth. The same earth she was on, thousands of miles away, probably in lush, manicured grass, kicking a ball around and entertaining thousands. Your group had become your family, and you had grown as close as one. Arguing when tensions got high but snuggling together to share warmth when in survival mode. Joking in bars across the globe and playing so many games of gin rummy that you sure a record had been broken. They teased you relentlessly for the old boots with silly laces you wore on the lower reaches of each summit, before you reached heights that you all had to wear mountaineering boots. Alexia, unknowingly, with you every step of the way. They had even made a game in each country you entered, to help you pick the rudest or funniest postcard to send to Barcelona, snippets of your time you sent to Alexia, keeping the promise you made over a year ago. You could have rang, you know you could. But you didn’t know if you heard her voice you wouldn’t high-tail it to Barcelona. So you sent postcards. It felt old-fashioned. It felt romantic. And you think that really, you liked that she couldn’t reply. It felt anonymous. You took off your snow goggles as you stood at the peak. You had 3 minutes on the highest point on earth without your goggles before you would become snow blind. The sun being about 60% stronger at this elevation. You could see the curvature of the earth.  It reminded you of the curvature of Alexia's shoulders as you held her from behind.

You took in a deep breath of thin air.

Your lung capacity feels like it has doubled since you left Europe.

You have done it. Without oxygen. 7 summits. Your life goal. Complete.

And now. You wanted to go home. 

“Congratulations English Sherpa! You have done it!” Arjan, clamps a heavily gloved hand on your shoulder, his wide smile visible even beneath his snood. Ice hanging from his moustache. He had to shout for you to hear him over the wind. He was a sherpa, he had travelled all around the world with you being one of the experts in the group, he’d affectionately nicknamed you the English Sherpa after he had seen your climbing prowess on your first summit. “We have done nothing yet, my friend. You know you’ve only climbed Everest once you get back down safely” you reply, glee in your voice, fixing your goggles back to your face. “Spoken like a true Sherpa.” he replied, and you both embraced at the top of the world. You didn’t hang around for long. Your entire expedition made it to the top of your final summit and you quickly pictured the moment before making your way down. The biggest risk on Everest is getting stuck in a crowd. It is not as technically difficult as other summits you have done. But without oxygen, a minute can feel like an hour on the highest point on earth. You heard once, it is easier to be saved from the surface of the moon than it is to be saved from the surface of Everest. Luck, however, seemed to be on your side. You had made good progress up, and were making even better progress down. With each step you became more and more gleeful, past 8,000 metres you started to finally feel safer. 7,000 metres, you let the excitement of your achievement settle into your bones. 6,000 metres you let your mind wander to finally going home but why was home seeming more like a sundrenched balcony in Barcelona rather than a green field of England? 5,000 metres, you promised yourself that you would use the satellite phone in your pocket to ring Alexia once you got back to base camp. Tell her you’d done it. Maybe even beg her forgiveness. You were alone on the mountain, ahead of most of your group and low enough now to be unattached to any guidelines, it was a usual affair.  Until it wasn’t.

You felt the ground rumble beneath you. It was barely noticeable. It felt more like the feeling you get when you’re lying in bed and a large truck drives past your house.

But it was enough to instil fear in you as you looked up and saw a wall of moving snow hurtling towards you. It was a slab avalanche, probably caused by the movement of the climbers above, and paired with the lateness of the day, the snow that had fallen and compacted overnight had melted enough to loosen into a wall of ice that was directed your way.

You had about 30 seconds.

You knew to go sideways, do not outrun an avalanche. It's like trying to outrun a cheetah. But this wall of ice looked wide, you ran to your side, moving slowly in the deep snow. As you ran you pulled your goggles back onto your face.

You could feel the earth beneath you falling away as the snow you trod on was unearthed by the vibrations of the snow above.

You ran. You ran for your life, but you knew this wasn’t good. Your training kicked in.

You saw a boulder in front of you and you threw yourself behind it, you created a ball with your body, making sure that you created a hole around your face you would be able to use to breathe. You pulled your ice pole from your back and stuck it into the ground next to you, that would help when you were covered by snow and you didn't know which way was up. Which way you would need to dig. You put one hand in your pocket and pulled the satellite phone in front of your face.

A thunderous rumble. 

And then. 

Silence. Darkness.  —----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Alexia didn’t have her phone on at half time. She never paid it any attention - playing or not she was too focussed on the game.

Today, though, she didn’t know why. But she did.

She felt her phone vibrate in the bag at her feet.

And something compelled her to actually make the effort to dig into her bag and pull it out.

The number looked weird. Not a Spanish number, or an English one, she had gotten used to all the +44’s that had rang her over the year spent with you.

She stepped out of the unfamiliar changing room into the impressive corridors of Old Trafford. A post-season friendly. Barcelona Vs Manchester United. The game didn’t mean anything but it was always exciting to check another famous stadium off the list. A sold out crowd and an evening game. Can’t get much better.

She found a disused office room and managed to press accept on the call.

“Hola?”

At first she thought she’d missed it. Nothing on the line responded to her, as she pulled the phone away to check she saw the call had connected… ‘Scammers’ she cursed in her mind, moving to hang up. But just before she did…

“Hola, Ale.” She couldn’t believe it. Your voice. She dropped her weight onto the table behind her and held a hand to her chest that suddenly felt like it was torn in two. Heart beating faster than any 45 minutes of running could cause.

“¿eres realmente tú?”

“Yes, It’s me Ale.”

Tears brimmed in her eyes and even after everything she felt just the same as she did when she stepped out of that minibus nearly 3 years ago and first set eyes on you.

“Are you okay carino? Did you do it?”  she asked, breathlessly. “I did it, love.” was the response. In her pride at your accomplishment she missed how you hadn’t addressed her first question.

“Nunca tuve ninguna duda, I am so relieved to hear from you. The line is so quiet, are you still there?”

“Si…” a pause which Alexia attributes to the poor connection, “It must be the signal.” she notices you move on, quickly, “Can… can you just talk to me?”. Alexia smiles despite herself, you used to always ask her to talk you to sleep when your mind was whirring, completing your greatest accomplishment must be in that category and she can imagine you fidgeting in pent up adrenaline.

“I can amor, I have a few minutes. I am in Manchester. We are at half time at Old Trafford.”

“Old Trafford, hey?” she hears you laugh, “Finally, a football ground I’ve heard of.” She's missed your teasing lilt.

“Si, even you. It is raining. Why is it always raining here? I imagine you have better weather even at your camp.” Alexia jokes, innocently. The laugh you let out feels a little… forced? But she lets it go.

“I had lunch with your Mami today. We are only an hour or so away from yours, why did you never tell me we were so close?” Again, that laugh that she loves so much, but it felt more tired that she’d heard it before, more muffled. Though. She supposed, you must be exhausted.

“Because then, my love, you would have made us go and watch football matches and I much preferred to spend our time together in my bed.”

“Ah, Si, I remember, you did.” she responds, blushing and not missing a beat. 

“Your Mami is doing well. She is in the stands….” “Tell her I love her, Ale.” you cut in. There's a desperate edge to your voice that sends shivers down Alexia's spine. She stands, “I will. Of course I will. Carino, are you okay?” she realises now, you never answered her first question. “I stood on the top of Everest today, Ale.” you reply. You haven’t answered her question. She opens her mouth to ask it again but you continue, “I stood on the top of Everest and all I could think of was you.” Your words force her to sit again, her spare hand to her mouth, keeping in a muffled sob. “Don’t you think that's insane? That today, Ale. You were in Manchester and someone. On top of the world. The highest point on this Earth. The highest person on this planet. Only about 4 spacemen floating around above me. Had only you in their mind? I think that means you’ve been to the top of the world, Ale. En la cima del mundo conmigo. You were there with me, every step.” You sound drunk, she wouldn’t blame you, thin air for months it wouldn’t take more than half a pint to see you off, the thought of your ramblings makes her smile despite herself, she knows she shouldn’t, but she leans into it. “Everyone here talks like you….” she pauses, “In Manchester. Only me and Ona can understand them. With your flat vowels. It made me think of you more today. Miss you more than normal today. And now you call.” There's a knock on the office door, “Ale, Vamos!” half time has ended. She has never wanted to play football less than right now. “Because we’re soulmates” your voice definitely had a slur to it now, “and I miss you too. I’ll always miss you, my Ale.” you always got soppier when you drank. “You won’t miss me for long, Carino. You will be home soon. I don’t care if you decide that it's England or Spain. Whichever. I will be there. Si?... We will be together soon. We can sort all this out.” “Hopefully, n..to..oo soon.” she struggles to hear you, the connection starting to fail. “Pardon? Amor?” another knock at the door. She feels like she's being pulled in half as she presses the phone closer to her ear. “Amor. I have to go. Well done, Estoy tan orgullosa de ti. Call me when you can.” “I love you, Ale…” “I lo…” beep beep beep. The call drops before she has a chance to respond. —-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- You feel pain all over your body. You had never felt pain like it. It was like every sinew in your body was screaming out in pain. You opened your eyes and immediately closed them again. Blinding white. You heard voices. Alarmed voices. 

Shouting voices. “HERE, HERE!!!” You felt yourself being moved. It made the pain worse. You tried to tell them to stop. 

Your throat couldn't make a sound. And then all you knew was black. 

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- More darkness. You felt something covering your face. Your body being stripped. Water. Boiling water. It burned. You were submerged. “No no no no no no…” was all you could try to vocalise. A calming hand in your hair. “It is lukewarm water, we are trying to bring your body temperature up…” 

No, no. They were lying. The voice was lying. You thrashed. A pain in your arm. A needle? Darkness took you again. —--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- “There is no chance, Arjan.” “Bu….” “No. You are an experienced Sherpa. You are letting yourself get lost. There is no chance. She is too far gone. Air evac is the only way. No Nepalese pilot will fly at this altitude. We need to make her comfortable…” —--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- You felt yourself being moved.

Less painful this time.

You felt wind on your face.

This wasn’t natural wind.

The sound of blades. Air moving unnaturally. Choppily.

Your face is covered again. 

The wind gets louder. More mechanical. You feel yourself being lifted up. “You’ve some friends in high places, English Sherpa.” you hear whispered to you, a hand on your forehead. Arjan? Your friend is speaking to you. You feel less alone. You try to open your eyes but the effort feels herculean. And then nothingness. —------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- This time, when you wake up. You stay awake. You’re in an unfamiliar room. It’s obvious it's a hospital room. But you’re alone. You look around and see yourself wired up to all sorts of machines. But that's it. You try to move to sit up but your shoulder screams in protest. You take stock of your body. You feel a bandage wrapped around your head. Your head is banging now you think about it. Your right arm is completely immobile. Your arm wrapped across your chest and hand completely covered by bandages. You try to wiggle your fingers but. Nothing. God. You hope they’re still there. Before you had too long to spiral the door burst open and you were faced with a smiling, familiar face. “Arjan!” you try to exclaim, voice rough from underuse. “She’s awake. My friend!” his sun-soaked face suits his smile. His bushy eyebrows make his eyes almost invisible as he crinkles them in joy. Arjan settles next to you and fills you in on everything you were present for, but missed out on account of being buried alive or completely unconscious. Your choice to hide behind the boulder had been the first thing to save your life. It had protected you from being swept away by the avalanche and was easier to locate. Before you had called Alexia you had contacted base camp. But your GPS had been knocked off so all they knew was that you were alive. And where you told them you had last been. You’d lost consciousness fairley quickly. Brain starved of oxygen in the small air pocket you had created. Hypothermia had set in slowly.

Your hand had been left exposed after using the phone, and you remember wiggling your fingers, seeing them slowly turn black as they succumbed to frostbite. It had taken 3 days to find you. Luckily, you had been the only person caught up in the snow. You remember, now, coming in and out of consciousness. You even recall a bad spell of seeing Alexias face in the boulder your head rested against and talking to it. Maybe you’d keep that you yourself. Bit embarrassing really. Your legs were pinned down by snow. You had used your last piece of strength to thrust your ice pole upwards. You'd chosen the direction based on the way your tears fell. That was the second thing that had saved your life. Arjan had spotted the pole in the ice field. Days after everyone else had given up on ever finding you. You’d been dragged to base camp and they started to treat hypothermia. You were more than halfway to dead. You resembled a corpse. Arjan had told you he'd never seen anyone literally blue. “Pulled it off tho, my friend” he’d tried to joke. “Of course, always” you’d winked back in reply. You'd have no chance of survival whilst still on the mountain. The air was still too thin and your were suffering from hypoxia. Problem was, the air was too thin for an air evacuation and. Well. As you knew. It was easier to be saved from the surface of the moon than it was to be saved from the surface of Everest. The third thing that had saved you. Was Alexia. “You have someone who’s gone to the moon and back for you, my friend.” Once she’d found out you had gone missing she had gone to the UK embassy in London to start a search and rescue campaign. When they hadn’t moved quickly enough she had involved the Spanish government. She’d used her resources and status to launch a media campaign which had pressured both governments. She’d flown to Kathmandu herself and was trying to hire a plane to Lukla when you’d been found. Then her attention turned to locating a pilot crazy enough to fly at such an altitude. Turns out anyone was crazy enough for the right price. And many, many euros later, the highest ever search flight took off from the surface of Everest, with you on board. “She’s a force to be reckoned with, your girl.”

He told you, as he reached to the ground below you, “...and you’ll be happy to hear, I saved your precious boots” he dumped your familiar old tattered boots at the bottom of your bed.

“And some stuff from your tent. But I had to hike it out so I left some of the smellier clothes.” he joked, as you thanked him, he really was a good man. “... Wait… hike it out? How long have I been here?” “You’ve been unconscious for a week my friend. I always told you you were lazy.” You took a moment to take stock. A week. Well. That meant that even if Alexia had been in Kathmandu, she was a million miles away now. The door opens again and you’re too lost in your own thoughts to give any care to the nurse whos been coming in every now and again checking charts whilst you and Arjan chatted. “Ah here she is. La Reina herself!” You turned your head quickly and took in the face that had been the last image in your mind every night, and the first every morning, since the day you had parted. “Ale…” you breathed. Here. She was here. In Kathmandu. In the same room as you. 

She looked as beautiful as ever, hair flowing over her shoulders, blonder than the last time you had seen her. She had gained muscle and her features had sharpened. But everything else was the same. Her smell invaded your senses. That smell that mosquitoes loved so much. You got it. Her eyes were sharp, and directed firmly at you. They looked tired. She held a sense of exhaustion. You wanted her to fall into your arms, but she stood at the door, and you couldn't open them to welcome her in. The moment was heavy and Arjan broke the silence and stood… “I’ll leave you both to it. See you around English Sherpa.” and with a squeeze of your foot he was gone. Leaving you both in a heavy silence. “Thank You Ale.” you said, breaking the silence.

After all Arjan told you, you owed her your life. She didn't respond. But her eyes had moved from your face and were now directed at the boots still on your bed. As battered as ever, Blaugrana laces snapped and re-tied in several places, swatch still visible on the tongue. Maybe you thought that your meeting would be a bit more romantic, not as…tense? She stroked one of the boots gently with her finger, seemingly lost in a trance. “Ale…?” “You have a habit of not telling me important things.” Whatever you expected it wasnt that. “Qué?” “That you speak Spanish, how you feel, I don’t know… that your trapped in a fucking avalanche.” you’d seen her angry before, you’d seen that anger directed at you, but this felt worse. It was directed through you. She kept her distance when all you wanted to do was hold her close. “How could you do that? How could you let us speak knowing that you were about to freeze to death and just chat to me, like it was a normal Sunday afternoon?” “I…I didn’t want to worry you…” you croaked out, you felt like a school child who was being told off by the head teacher. And you deserved it, you supposed. “I will always worry about you, por el amor de dios!!” She started to pace around the bottom of your bed, your eyes moving like they were taking in a tennis match watching her wear the ground down. “...and to think I finished that game. I slept that night at your flat. Happy, finally feeling like I almost had you back. Your mami took me home. And then, the next morning, I walked into the kitchen. And there she was, crying at the table. She could hardly tell me what had happened. And then it all fell into place. You’d called me when you thought you were already in your grave, didn’t you?” All you could do was nod, arms desperate to dry the tears tracking down her face. “I’m glad to see you.” you let out. Unsure of what else to say. “You won’t be. I am so, so angry at you.” “I know you are bu…” 

“No, you did your speaking on that Mountain. Now you listen” Her tears are dry now and the anger is back in her face. “I have sorted a medical flight. We leave tonight. We’re going back to Barcelona. I don’t care if you want to go back to that rainey island or not. It’s not your choice, it's mine. You almost froze to death, you need the sun. The warm. You will come with me every day to the doctors at the club. They will monitor you. Your family will come to visit. You will go to a therapist. You will take your medication. You will not ignore your medication because you think its better to treat yourself with whatever crushed bug or mashed-up leaves you think is better….” She stops for breath. “That was one time…” you mumbled, referring back to the time you insisted that a crushed cucumber was better than antiseptic cream to treat a bee sting. “Nope. You are still listening.” She stopped you, firmly again, but you felt her eyes softening as she took you in, “... and when we get home and you get better, we will talk. We will decide where we are building our life together, but that is one non-negotiable. It will be together. Okay?” She seems to be finished. And she's moved closer to you, close enough for you to reach out and grab her hand with your good one. You nod, and pull her hand to cup your face. “I just have one question.” you ask, seeking permission to speak. She nods as she strokes your face, tired and burnt from over-exposure. “Are these fingers still attached?” you ask, shaking your injured arm at her, “they’re kind of important for my plans, if you know what I mean” you wiggle your eyebrows suggestively. Her laugh makes you think maybe you did die on that mountain, because surely, here, with her, you’re in heaven. “Te amo, idiota” —-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You awoke surrounded by soft sheets and sleep-warm pillows. Your once-injured arm tweaked in pain slightly as you stretched out. You had physio later this afternoon, you thought to yourself, you had better mention it. You rolled out of bed and stumbled into the kitchen, still covered in blankets, bed hair resembling a yeti. You almost tripped up over your rucksack which was laying in the hall. Where it had been since your return to Barcelona, months ago. You hadn’t been ready to unpack it quite yet. You could hear Alexia on the phone out on the balcony, and you gestured the international, ‘want a drink’ sign to her, which she shook her head at. You shrugged. God, sometimes she was so Spanish. A good Brit would never let a hot kettle go to waste. It had been months of reconnection, Alexia finally letting go of her anger as soon as you entered the flat. She broke down in your arms that first night, simultaneously telling you how angry she was at you and how much she loved you at the same time. How she had never been as scared in her life. You just dealt with it by pressing kisses into her hairline.

She'd made you sit in the sun of the balcony every chance she got. Morning, Noon and Night. Moving you around to chase the rays. Insisting that you needed the warmth and vitamins of the sun to recover. The image of you pale, cold and frozen in the hospital in Nepal seared into her mind. When Mapi and Ingrid visited Mapi teased you, and had taken to calling you Bagheera. She said you resembled her cat, chasing the sun to lounge in at every occasion. She quickly stopped when Alexia slapped the back of her head. You no longer had to hide your relationship. Alexia had blown the doors off that as she went to the media in order to get the resources to save you. The feeling of claustrophobia that had made you flee from Barcelona had gone. You knew what being trapped really felt like now. And how you ever thought the love of your life and a shared life in this sun-drenched city was suffocating. Well. That was a different person to who you were now. Yeah, you would always love the outdoors. But you had an anchor now. Something that made you maybe not scale that next peak, and instead be excited to share a recipe with. Maybe not stay on the trail for an extra week, and instead pick out a good film to settle down to. Your mum was over the moon. She’d been a regular visitor. You thought she’d be upset, when you decided to stay in Spain instead of going back to England but she seemed offended by the idea. “That girl saved your life you stupid woman, of course will stay here with her.” Alexia didn’t accept it so easily. She was worried you would feel trapped again, that she wasn’t compromising. She would rather move with you than lose you. “Ale. Barna is your life.” you had replied, simply, “...and you are mine.” “It is not!” she had refused, aghast at the suggestion until you said, “United will have me, so will City, my agent has checked, I would even go to the Championship and play for Newcastle, I look great in black!” “Ale, you literally have a floor tile tattooed on your back. We’re staying here.” you said, deadpan. And she couldn’t say much to that. So, much to the despair of every football fan in England. She signed a new contract with Barcelona not two weeks ago. Maybe it was how settled you felt this morning, as the kettle boiled. The soreness in your muscles after the night you spent together in bed, which must be why your shoulder was straining now. Maybe you'd keep that away from the physio. Though, maybe he’d be happy to hear that your fingers were definitely fully recovered. Not as happy as Alexia was though, you'd bet. But something about this morning made you brave enough to finally open that rucksack in the hallway. As you zipped it open your fingers caught on a single piece of cardboard. A postcard. You flipped it over as arms encircled your waist and gentle lips kissed your shoulder. “Carino?” she asked, looking at the postcard in your hands. “I never got to give you this.” you whispered, as you held the postcard over your shoulder, she let you go as she turned it in her hands. She let out a barking laugh as she moved towards the fridge where 6 other postcards sat proudly, waiting for their 7th to complete the set. A woman in a bikini, sat on a yak wearing a cowboy hat, the imposing structure of Everest in the background. A speech bubble coming out of her mouth ‘I’ve seen bigger’. Alexia rolled her eyes at you as she stuck it to the fridge with a magnet showing the message you wrote all those months ago.

“Ale, I’m here. 

One more summit and I’ll be on my way back to you. For good. How can I say it in your language? ‘It’s coming home’. 

fin. 

[tcshi]

boyfriend!reo who despite your multiple protest about him spending his money on you, sends you bouquet of flowers that coincidentally aligns when the previous ones he's sent you are all dried up.

boyfriend!reo who plucks a flower from the bouquets so that he'll know when your flowers are all withered before he sends you a fresh new bunch.

boyfriend!reo who learns all of the things you love so that he can engage in the conversations with you pertaining them just like how you entertain every talk of his about football.

boyfriend!reo who let's you turn his hair into beautiful braids even though truthfully they're a little messy, but for him it's the thought and effort that counts.

boyfriend!reo who loves putting his chin over your shoulder as you're seated on his lap, loving the intimacy and closeness of your preferred way of cuddling before he's peppering the skin of your neck with small kisses, chuckling at the squeals leaving your lips because he knows it's your ticklish spot.

boyfriend!reo who appreciates your patience in the relationship because his schedule can get a bit hectic when the premier league starts.

boyfriend!reo who assigns a personal staff to look after you every game, making sure you're comfortable and fed while spending an hour and 30 minutes watching him play.

boyfriend!reo who proceeds to greet you first with kisses when the halftime is over and they're emerging from the tunnel, tells you that it's his good luck charm before he's being whisked away by nagi to their side of the pitch.

boyfriend!reo who runs over to you first things first in the vip area where the team’s family members are all seated together after a game, reaching his arms over the athletic fence that separated the terrace and pitch and him from you.

boyfriend!reo who likes to hold you by the waist as you're seated down on the terrace bench with him, not even minding the sweat that clung onto his soaked jersey before he's back at planting kisses all over your face.

boyfriend!reo who kisses you shamelessly in front of thousands of people, tongue and all before sheepishly smiling every time the candid pictures of that event are flashing through his sns and greeting his eyes every morning after.

lastly, boyfriend!reo who's down bad for you who knew you were the one for him when you've shown the same passion as him for a sport that you don't even play. boyfriend!reo who loves you unconditionally, more than willing to spend his entire life with you. boyfriend!reo who's already got the ring hidden deep inside his jersey short pockets and ready to be flaunted in public in your finger.

a/n: was heavily inspired by boyfriend!nagi (@the-chronicles-of-a-bookworm ) so i thought why not make one for my baby boy reo <33 i’m afraid my favorite lilac is slowly climbing up the charts and might possibly top rin and nagi as my bllk bf sooner than expected :›

[softdykellie]

ੈ✩‧₊˚ motion sickness part i | ellie w.

next part here

PAIRING: modern!ellie x fem!reader

SUMMARY: having grown up together, everyone knew eachother in jackson. when a brooding newcomer owner to a tattoo shop comes along apparently charming her friendly florist neighbor things seem to take a turn.

WARNING: alternative universe! purposefully all lower case. multiple part series. not a very eventful beginning as ellie’s relationship with reader is slow burn but i promise it will evolve.

WORD COUNT: 716

the entire town of jackson had stopped on its tracks to peek into the blacked out windows of what used to be cat’s bakery, an exciting guessing game at every arrival of trucks unloading black leather chairs and tall unopened boxes that according to jesse made heavy noises to the shake. the owner, whoever they may be, haven’t made their way to the building yet, and all pointed towards a newcomer. jackson wasn’t used to those.

“you think it’s a woman?”

“i just hope they’re hot” dina says, getting in response a subtle glare from jesse as she poured whiskey from her expensive cabinet onto your cup. it was always on the house for her best friend, a near prayer for bankruptcy.

you chuckled before clinking your glasses together and taking a long sip to avoid the topic you knew awaited you by the way dina raised her eyebrows suggestively, squinting her eyes towards the bar’s furthest corner where abby anderson, former basketball star and current police chief, downed her own drink. the woman never wore her hair down and was an apparent fan of uniforms, having once used religiously her numbered jersey and now eternally in dark blue slacks. once upon a time there had been something between you, if you could call it that: a drunken kiss at a frat party after a winning game, all nerves and eagerness, tongue and hands. years later, dina would never let you live it down.

“i’m just saying your love life is about as interesting as jj’s and he’s two years old!” she whispered agressively before whistling for abby’s attention “oi, anderson! c’mon let us in on the secret, what’s the new shop for?”

“didn’t take you as a gossip, dina”

“well then you clearly don’t know me enough! entertain us, we won’t tell”

abby seemed to think for a minute, glancing between you and the empty bottom of her cup. with a sigh she walked over from her seat towards your spot at the barstools, the smell of fresh mint and citrus radiating off her. under the dim lighting her blonde hair still shone - nearly sparkled - at every ray, inevitably, you stared until she smirked. another bitter whiskey sip.

“some asshole’s tattoo shop” up close, that was when you took note of her bruised hand, red knuckles still somewhat clenched up. it suddenly made sense why the stoic figure was seen day drinking at her job, something to numb the pain without looking weak. still, everything seemed unlike her. hot-tempered. dina asked bluntly what you found yourself too stunned to ask: “what the fuck anderson, you punched the newcomer?”

her eyes were on you again, pale blue like a stormfront, searching your expression. abby anderson was a different kind of beauty, ragged around the edges, rough and sharpened. everyone guessed college would straighten that out of her, ivy league scholarship with the rich and powerful far enough from jackson you’d think nostalgia was a disease amongst the trophies and gpas. no one could bare look her in the eye since the career ending injury that lead her to come back, besides you. she figured that’s what kept her enthralled; not being a walking failure to at least someone in her hometown.

your staring match as over before it fully began. a swing of the door echoing bells throughout the establishment. jesse straightened his back, ready to serve, dina fixated on the hand still, abby looked down and you turned your body towards the entrance. 5”7 and fully tattooed at every visible corner of skin besides her face - oh that face - right eye stained in swollen purple. she looked no one in the eye besides dina.

“one beer please”

she caught your eye for a second, taking you in under her shuddering gaze in such precise detail you were sure all the lines and dots connected into the paiting of your face had made themselves a maze under microscope. she searched for something in you, a reaction, you barely even noticed how your breath had hitched until you ran out of air. her hand slowly reached towards your face in what appeared at first to be a cheek caress, before she tugged a leaf from behind your ear, stuck to your hair.

“you must be the flower shop girl. hi, neighbor. i’m ellie.”

[kevinskorchinski]

Everything you need to know so far about the NHL all-star weekend ↴

[article: NHL All-Star, this is just a summary]

📍Scotiabank Arena, Toronto, CANADA

🗓️ February 1-3

FAN VOTE IS BACK: you will get to vote for 12 players, 8 skaters and 4 goalies. You can submit a ballout 10 times.

FEBRUARY 1: PLAYERS DRAFT

A player (the captain) will be paired with a celebrity. They will pick 11 players (9 skaters and 2 goalies)

Entertainment

Man of the Year will be announced

PWHL (Professional Women's Hockey League) will have a 3-on-3 (more information below)

FEBRUARY 2: SKILLS COMPETITION

12 Players will compete in 8 events. The player with most points takes home $1 million (USD) (or $1,329,136 in CAD). Each player will compete in 4 of 6 events. THE EVENTS:

Fastest Skater

Hardest Shot

Stick-Handling

One-Timers

Passing

Accuracy Shot

Top 8 point-earners will advance to the 7th event: the SHOOTOUT-> each player will choose a goalie to shoot against.

The top six point-earners will advance to the 8th and final round: the OBSTACLE COURSE-> points doubled.

FEBRUARY 3: ALL-STAR GAME

3-on-3 tournament between 4 teams, winning team receives $1 million (USD)

There has already been a player chosen from each team (here are the players): [Name, team, position]

Frank Vatrano, ANA, F

Clayton Keller, ARI, F

David Pastrnak, BOS, F

Rasmus Dahlin, Buff, D

Elias Lindholm, CGY, F

Sebastian Aho, CAR, F

Connor Bedard, CHI, F (injured)

Nathan Mackinnon, COL, F

Boone Jenner, CBJ, F

Jake Oettinger, DAL, G

Alex DeBrincet, DET, F

Connor McDavid, EDM, F

Sam Reinhart, FLA, F

Cam Talbot, LAK, G

Kirill Kaprizov, MIN, F

Nick Suzuki, MTL, F

Filip Forsberg, NSH, F

Jack Hughes, NJD, F

Mathew Barzel, NYI, F

Igor Shesterkin, NYR, G

Brady Tkachuk, OTT, F

Travis Konecny, PHI, F

Sidney Crosby, PIT, F

Tomas Hertl, SJS, F

Oliver Bjorkstrand, SEA, F

Robert Thomas, STL, F

Nikita Kucherov, TBL, F

Auston Matthews, TOR, F

Quinn Hughes, VAN, D

Jack Eichel, VGK, F (injured)

Tom Wilson, WSH, F

Connor Hellebuyck, WPG, G

Vincent Trochek (New York Rangers) and Kyle Connor (Winnipeg Jets), to replace Connor Bedard (Chicago Blackhawks) and Jack Eichel (Vegas Golden Knights).

FEBRUARY 1st ENTERTAINMENT

PWHL 3-on-3 showcase

There will be 2 teams 12 players on each, 10 skaters and 2 goalies.

Team King (Cassie Campbell-Pascall): named after Billie Jean King

Team Kloss (Meghan Duggan): named after Ilana Kloss

MASCOT SHOWDOWN

Thursday 1st, 6:00-7:00 p.m: Dodgeball

Friday 2nd, 5:00-6:00 p.m: Skills Competition

Saturday 3rd, 12:00-1:00 p.m: Street Hockey Game 

Sunday 4th, 1:00-2:00 p.m: Musical Chairs

2:00 PM: Championship Trophy and "Most Valuable Mascot" Belt Presentations

THE FAN VOTE RESULTS: [name, team, position, votes]

Thatcher Demko, VAN, G: 1,398,699

William Nylander, TOR, F: 1,393,578

Cale Makar, COL, D: 1,065,367

Elias Pettersson, VAN, F: 976,716

Leon Draisaitl, EDM, F: 967,975

Mitchell Marner, TOR, F: 946,154

J.T. Miller, VAN, F: 839,215

Morgan Rielly, TOR, D: 830,480

Brock Boeser, VAN, F: 762,378

Sergei Bobrovsky, FLA, G: 712,100

Alexandar Georgiev, COL, G: 584,071

Jeremy Swayman, Boston Bruins, G: 578,739

10 players have been selected and you can vote for 2 more skaters:

Auston Matthews

William Nylander

Nathan MacKinnon

Cale Makar

Connor McDavid

Leon Draisaitl

Nikita Kucherov

Jack Hughes

David Pastranak

Elias Pettersson

Quinn Hughes and J.T. Miller were voted in to participate in the All-Star skills competition.

NHL All Star Jerseys:

🔴Pacific Division

🔵Atlantic Division

⚪Metropolitan Division

🟡Central Division

THE CAPTAINS HAVE BEEN ANNOUNCED!

Team Matthews: Auston Matthews, Justin Bieber. Assistant Captains: Morgan Rielly.

Team McDavid: Connor McDavid, Will Arnett. Assistant Captain: Leon Draisaitl.

Team Mackinnon: Nathan MacKinnon, Tate McRae. Assistant Captain: Cale Makar.

Team Hughes: Quinn & Jack Hughes, Michael Bublé.

[pruneunfair]

The tyrants only perfumer: so bad yet so entertaining.

There are 2 kinds of media out there that are in the "bad" category. There's media with that supports abusive relationships, SA, stalking, grooming and awful shit in general like Hunting Adeline, cry or better yet beg, every CoHo book known to man.

And then there's media with an objectively bad plot or painfully obvious scripted events but it's still a fun watch/read when your bored and just need some substance like 90 day fiance, Marry my husband, or new jersey shore. A type of media that is given the nickname "fast-food."

The tyrants only perfumer is probably my favorite of all my fastfood media, the characters aren't the most complex yet their still entertaining, the conflicts are resolved too quickly, the sudden shift in Cedric falling in love with Ariel despite being in a toxic relationship with the og villainess for a long time. And yet it's still a fun read because while it is as flat as old soda, the characters are just beyond 1 dimensional that it keeps me around to see what happens next, the only thing I can say that actually disturbed me was Ariels willingness to make a perfume equivalent to an aphrodisiac for some girl, like wth Ariel your from the modern era you should know better, sure they do make some rules that the person needs to be attracted to you already for it to work but it's still weird as hell.

Other that, I do recommend this one if you just want an easy to digest rofan

[eastgaysian]

Sincere question: I don't understand your reaction here: "also the fact i had to look up lottie's actress to be like wait is she mixed. it's just a bit silly to me tbh" . Are you saying the show should have explicitly discussed her ethnic background? Is it because you think her possible powers are related to her being Maori, or like in general it should have been more obvious?

this is a complicated one to answer because i feel like i have to go macro -> micro to get all my thoughts out sensibly. but we'll get there i promise

the genre of survivalist fiction, more specifically the deserted island/stranded in the wilderness narrative, is racially loaded. sometimes this is patently obvious, ie robinson crusoe and the character of friday, but even with a cast of entirely white characters the concept of uninhabited and untamed wilderness (which the white characters either tame or are degraded by) is tied to colonialism*, as is the tension between what is viewed as civilized or uncivilized behavior, good christian morality vs primitive/barbaric 'savagery', etc.

(* this isn't necessarily constant throughout history/a global context but is absolutely a part of this genre and the american context of yellowjackets)

yellowjackets seems to promise a deconstruction of the genre by focusing on the psychological horror angle with a diverse cast of teenage girls, as well as reflecting on how the trauma of that event would carry on into life after rescue. and like, i like it! i think it's fun to watch, it succeeds at entertaining me. but i really think it drops the ball when it comes to examining the racial implications of this kind of story.

it's clear that there's some degree of thought and significance put into taissa as a Black female character: her conversation with van about Black characters dying first in horror movies, the conversation with that potential donor who feels entitled to her trauma because of All She's Done For You People, her being the first Black female senator of new jersey.

...so what exactly are we supposed to make of the fact that she has an Evil Personality that first emerged after the crash, who eats dirt and bites people and makes shrines with broken dolls and dog heads, just lurking under the surface waiting until she loses control? the other characters are definitely psychologically disturbed, but the regression to this 'wild' state is extreme and reserved for taissa. why? it doesn't critically examine or deconstruct the ways in which the behavior we view as 'feral' is racialized. at best it's thoughtless, at worst it's actively engaging in racist tropes.

on the other hand you have lottie, whose racial identity isn't brought up in the text, but is at least a consistent casting decision for teen/adult lottie and her parents. the role she fills of being converted (to a point?) and baptized by a devoted white christian girl and then becoming an occult mystic who communes with the wilderness and wears deer antlers to try and lead a ritual human sacrifice is extremely racially loaded. i wouldn't have been irked by the lack of acknowledgment if this wasn't her role. but because it hasn't been brought up and it's not critically examined, i'm not sure whether the show wants me to think her possible powers are related to her being māori, and either way the implications are really troubling to me.

i'm not #cancelling the show i'm just disappointed by what feels like a huge oversight with regards to the racialized aspects of the genre. narratively i also think the build up of the maybe-supernatural elements was kind of all over the place which doesn't help but that's not really here nor there. it just doesn't sit well with me!

[msmargaretmurry]

did you go to alzners? how was it?

i did and it was so fun and lovely! everyone involved was clearly having such a good time hanging out playing this silly little softball game. the weather was perfect and the event was sold out but the field it was held at was small enough that it still felt super intimate, and the crowd was just full of people with so much pure dc sports love. it was so, so nice to see so many players who played here and then decided to make dc their permanent home, or who loved their time in the city enough to want to come back just for this charity event.

here are the lineups for the softball teams if anyone is interested!

tom was a last minute addition, i assume because he couldn't commit to the event until his wife gave birth to their child 😂

the game was so entertaining and charming. everyone was taking it just the right amount of serious while clearly having a great time and chirping and joking with each other! some highlights include:

joe b and locker, the caps' broadcast team, did the pxp and color commentary for the event, and alexa from monumental sports mc'ed from the field. caleb green and bob mcdonald, who do the anthem at caps games, also did the anthem for this! i was so tickled to see so much of the extended caps family turn out!!

when alexa grabbed zim after his home run derby turn to ask him what advice he had for his team before the game started he was like "no more than two high noons before the first inning 😐"

whenever tj came up to bat they used country roads as his walkup music and every time the crowd sang along super loud. also in true tj fashion he did eat it while running the bases at one point

when dsp was introduced there was a big D-S-P chant and also chants for each of his at-bats ❤

when noted usnwt player scamurra came up for her first at-bat someone in the crowd yelled, BE CAREFUL WE NEED YOU NEXT YEAR 😭

annie mae and natalie are two of our local news reporters (and annie mae is an in-game host for the caps!); they are very petite and were clearly at a huge disadvantage compared to all the huge pro athletes they were surrounded by but were SUCH good sports about it, and also the umpire kept calling them safe at first even when they were clearly out 😂 everyone decided this was just part of the game until things came down to the wire in the tied last inning and when the ump did this again tom ran all the way in from left field to jokingly argue with him about it 😭

so many beautiful bare calves. the event was very wholesome but something about hockey men with their bare calves and ankles out awakens a nineteenth century pervert in me like nothing else

looking at braden holtby's beautiful face 😌

seeing backy and greenie hanging out in the year of our lord 2024 😭 seeing carlzner hanging out in the year of our lord 2024 😭 friendship is magic 😭😭😭😭

i finally got my dsp jersey signed!!! he was so nice about it!

taylor showed up with her and tom's new teeny tiny baby!!!!!!!!!

but don't worry. having a new baby didn't stop tom and tj from being weird and horny about each other constantly either

anyway i had such a good time and honestly emerged feeling so refreshed and invigorated about why i love hockey so much. it's something i really love about my hometown team, what a great community we have, how many guys come here via draft or trade and then never want to leave. guys who didn't even end their careers in dc moving back to the area once they retire to be part of the community and give back to the community. i am still in my feelings about it!!!

[russburlingame]

Meet Your Heroes, Kids.

I have always thought “never meet your heroes” was a terrible piece of advice. In my life and career, I have been lucky enough to meet a number of people whose work I greatly admire. I have only had really bad experiences once or twice, versus dozens of great experiences on the other side (and even a few lifelong friendships). Yesterday, my daughter was lucky enough to have a similar experience.

I had a day off yesterday, so Cali and I decided to surprise Samantha with a day trip to New Jersey to meet StacyPlays, an author and entertainer who Sammy calls her “favorite YouTuber.” Of all the (many) people Sammy follows on YouTube, Stacy has always been one of my favorites, too. She’s smart, creative, and makes art that brings something positive into the world. None of those things are necessarily de rigueur on social platforms.

Stacy has a new book out (I actually talked to her about it for my day job, in an article that should be up tomorrow!), and she’s doing a signing tour. When we saw there was an appearance less than 4 hours from Syracuse, we decided to make it happen for Sammy.

Sammy struggled in the run-up to the trip. She was very excited to meet Stacy, but also very nervous about the prospect of meeting her hero. I shared a story with her about the first time something like that happened to me, and how I was nervous, too. Sammy also gets car sick easily, so she was on edge more or less the entire trip about that.

We left very early, hoping to spend a little time in Paramus, because we didn’t want to be at the end of the line for StacyPlays. That was lucky, because about halfway there, our car died. Totally unexpected, not something we were prepared for, and Sammy was despondent. She was scared, and cold, and convinced that we were going to miss meeting Stacy.

I’ll spare the details – there are many. But the short version is, everything that could go right, did go right. A tow truck literally happened to be driving behind us when we pulled over. We got the last rental car reservation in the county. After about 90 minutes, we were back on the road.

Getting to the point of all this – StacyPlays is an absolute treasure of a human being.

When the signing happened, we were the second people in line (I told you we left early!). Stacy quickly read Sammy’s nervousness, and was working VERY hard to bring Sammy out of her shell. She was kind, attentive, and repeatedly tried to engage Sammy even though Sam was obviously feeling very intimidated.

We took some photos, and the first one is really emblematic of the moment, with Stacy smiling up at Sammy from her seat. I’m not sharing it, because nobody was posed yet, and so it isn’t the most flattering photo of Stacy – but it’s my favorite, because not only is Sammy beaming, but Stacy is radiating the same level of enthusiasm. She looks like she genuinely cares about this kid she just met, and she’s really happy to be taking a photo. It’s an incredibly kind and empathetic moment that I clocked in real time and captured (kind of) on camera.

After feeling nauseous most of the day, and being really stressed and scared when the car died and we were trapped two hours from home, Sammy told me last night that she had a good day, and that she was really glad she got to meet Stacy. Cali and I were struck by how incredibly lucky we got in a number of ways, and how great everyone was. I’m praising Stacy here because she’s a public figure and was incredible, but B&N manager Laura was also a rock star. A very long, very stressful day was made worth it by simple acts of kindness, including by Stacy.

I’ve gone to dozens of comic conventions, signings, and other events like this over the years. Most professionals are friendly and happy to spend a few minutes with you. The people who want to genuinely and empathetically engage are a lot more rare, and I think it’s worth celebrating them – especially when their audience is made up primarily of kids.

So, in short, meet your heroes, kids. And buy Stacy’s book if it sounds like your kind of thing. She deserves the love.

[aus-wnt]

Caitlin Foord: ‘Men think women’s football is a ‘pussy’ sport’

Despite overtaking the Wallabies to become the third most popular national team in Australia, Matildas star Caitlin Foord says some Australians still see women’s football as a “weaker sport” - but she predicts that’s about to change.

Australians are on the cusp of witnessing one of the country’s most significant sporting tournaments when the FIFA Women’s World Cup 2023 kicks off this month here and in New Zealand. And the excitement is demonstrably palpable: with more than a million tickets already sold, the event (which takes place from July 20 till August 20) is on track to become the most attended standalone women’s sporting event in history.

For Matildas star forward Caitlin Foord, this World Cup will mark her fourth; in 2011, she became the youngest Australian ever to play in the tournament. ​​And to think her record-breaking career may never have happened. “Rugby league was what my family supported and I wanted to play rugby league when I was younger,” Foord tells Stellar. “But my nan told Mum that if she let me play then she would never speak to her again. So that went out the window. But if there were more girls playing at the time, and [if] it was more normal for girls to play, then I don’t even know if I would have gone into football.”

Like many children, Foord’s introduction to soccer began when she was a sporty nine-year-old playing with the boys during lunch at her school in the Illawarra region of NSW. “I was tearing the boys up a little bit, and they asked me to join the local team with one other girl,” Foord recalls. “Mum was hesitant because I was already doing a lot of other sports like Oztag [a non-tackling version of rugby league], and surf lifesaving. But then I got a little bit of help from my sister, who told Mum, ‘She’s really good, she beats all the boys at school.’”

In her first match, she scored six goals, and from there, she never stopped playing. “Before I started, the game wasn’t as professional as it is now, but I probably wasn’t thinking about that,” Foord admits, adding that since she wasn’t much of a student at school, she was all too happy to find herself playing for Sydney FC as a 16-year-old in 2010.

But as her abilities developed, so did the opportunities for women in the sport. Foord moved to the US to join New Jersey side Sky Blue FC in the inaugural National Women’s Soccer League season in 2013. She then signed with Vegalta Sendai in Japan in 2017. Now she calls London home, after renewing her contract with powerhouse Arsenal FC, where she’s played since 2020. “My transition in the game came at the same time that the game was growing,” she says. “It kind of just fell into place for me as I went up the ranks.”

Parallel to Foord’s personal career, the women’s game itself has made huge inroads. In 2019, Football Federation Australia signed a four-year-agreement with the player’s union, Professional Footballers Australia, that would see the men and women’s national teams receive equal shares of national team generated revenues. And, thanks to the likes of high-profile teammates such as Foord and captain Sam Kerr – arguably the greatest Australian football player – the Matildas have this year overtaken the Wallabies and are close to overtaking the Kangaroos to become the third most popular national team, according to independent market research firm Futures Sport & Entertainment.

Foord says the bond within the Matildas is a special one. “We’ve all grown up together,” she explains. “We’re a close-knit team. We’re not just teammates, we’re all friends, as well. We all thought that was the normal thing. But being overseas and playing with girls from different nationalities, I’ve heard people say they hate going into the national team. I find that so hard to believe because we love being around each other and I think that’s unique.”

Foord enters the World Cup with not just this camaraderie, but also a considerable home-field advantage and a golden opportunity to raise the profile of women’s soccer in the country. “Football is the world game, yet I’ve had a couple of conversations with people around home and they still don’t really see the women’s game,” Foord tells Stellar. “When we play overseas, it’s on at 3am.”

Which is why this upcoming World Cup is so pivotal. “Australians love sport, so I feel like they just need to see us and that’s enough,” she continues. “That’s all we need. That’s going to be the turning point, especially for the males who have spoken down on the sport before or think of women’s football as a weaker sport or a ‘pussy’ sport. But once they watch us and see how tough the game is and how we all get stuck, that’s all it needs.”

Following the team’s fourth-place finish at the 2020 Tokyo Olympics, the Matildas are expected to go deep in the Women’s World Cup. This year’s tournament offers the field a record $165 million in prize money, more than three times the amount from the 2019 Women’s World Cup (though far less, still, than the almost $700 million offered to the men at the 2022 World Cup).

Even so, if the Matildas take out the title, Foord says she will celebrate by purchasing some jewellery.

“As an athlete, I’m used to wearing tracksuits and comfy clothes and the odd dress for an awards night,” she says. “But the older I’ve got, the more I’m into fashion.

“I didn’t grow up with money or anything like that, so when I see something, I don’t buy it straight away. If I’m constantly thinking about it afterwards, then I know I really want it – and I’ve always wanted a Cartier ring. If we went on to win the tournament, I’d buy the one I absolutely love, which has diamonds in it.”

But no matter what happens, Foord plans to keep on kicking on. “All the benefits that come with the game now, me and the girls were part of [building] that,” she says. “We’re obviously grateful for what we have now, but we know it still deserves more – and we need to keep pushing.”

[littlejumpersnj]

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[blowflyfag]

Pro Wrestling Illustrated: October 1993

IN FOCUS 

WITH CRAIG PETERS

WHAT MAKES YOU WATCH WRESTLING?

[Jim Ross, a worthy addition to the WWF]

Back in the August 1993 issue, I asked readers to give some serious thought to the questions, “What makes you tune in to wrestling on television?” and “What makes you attend wrestling in the arenas?”

I received quite a few interesting letters on the subject, and would like to turn my entire column this month over to your responses to those questions. 

A big part of the reason why I watch the WWF television is to keep up on the feuds, wrote Joseph Gurcsik of Haddonfield, New Jersey. I like seeing who got jumped, who got put in their place and to see wrestlers working their way to the top. Jim Ross was also an excellent addition to the commentators. 

With the WWF there is nothing so important that it cannont be videotaped and viewed later, Joseph continued. WCW, though, is a television show which is not to be missed, especially the Saturday and Sunday evening shows. With WCW, I go to the arenas and watch it on television for completely different reasons. Watching the wrestling moves is incredible. WCW matches on television are matches that I would like to see in an arena. This gives me more of a reason to go to the arena, because I know that I will not be disappointed.

Dave Szymanak of Binghamton, New York, however, has a point of view on the situation that is not so optimistic:

It used to be that I watched wrestling on television to see reasonably competitive matches. But with the focus on everything now leading to pay-per-view events all year long, I mainly tune in for updates on the supercards and for the interviews. With the exception of a few WCW Clash of the Champions specials and some Saturday night bouts, I would say the current state of television wrestling is terrible. If it wasn’t for the interviews and pay-per-view info, I probably wouldn’t watch at all. Then again, I would say it was pay-per-view that ruined television wrestling to begin with–and, more importantly, arena attendance. 

About the only thing that would keep me away from the arena would be a skyrocket jump in ticket prices, Dave said, adding that sadly, I think I would be better off id i didn’t show up at all, because the quality of arena and television cards continues to sag. If it wasn’t for the fact that wrestling rarely comes here anymore, and if magazines like PRO WRESTLING ILLUSTRATED and PWI Weekly weren’t around, I would probably stop being a fan altogether. 

[Doink]

I tune in to wrestling each and every week because I love this sport, which is human chess at its best, says Carl Louk of Prince George, Virginia. I love hardcore kick-butt wrestling, not circus-like atmosphere macabre cartoon family entertainment.” That is why I will only watch organizations that promote this kind of wrestling, like NWA,WCW and independent promotions like Smoky Mountain Wrestling.

Finally, here’s just a portion of a lengthy and thoughtful letter from Master Sergeant (Retired) D.E. McLeod of Baltimore who offers a fascinating decade-wide perspective:

I grew up watching wrestling in the 1950s and 1960s. I remember the formation of the WWWF and attended some of its early matches here in Baltimore in 1963. I stopped watching wrestling about the time Pedro Morales was WWWF champion. While stationed in Massachusetts in 1980, I began to watch wrestling again (the WWF). I was curious enough to learn that wrestling had changed a great deal since I last watched it.

I haven't been to a live card since 1963. Why? Lots of reasons. Basically, even though I watch both WWF and WCW (WCW being my preferred choice), neither federation is offering me anything that would make me part with 50 bucks.

I won’t even bother to discuss what disgust me about the WWF! But I will tell you what ticks me off about WCW. First of all, WCW still continues to be a WWF wannabe. There is absolutely no continuity in WCW. Many times, I watch a feud start to brew in WCW and then nothing happens. First there is a TV champion, then not. Next there are U.S. tag team champions, then not. For goodness sakes! Make up your mind!The love of money is the root of all evil in professional wrestling. I thought that it was a scream that one week Jim Ross was telling me that WCW was real wrestling and not a circus act, then the next week he was broadcasting for a three ring circus called the WWF.

My thanks to everyone who responded. I don’t know that we came up with any definite answers to my questions, except perhaps the fact that everyone has a different and individual reason for watching this sport we all love so much.

[mightyflamethrower]

Idiocracy has arrived

April 10, 2024 1:54 pm Robert Zimmerman

Over the last few days the conservative press has been having a field day making justifiable fun of a number of Democrats and leftists for exhibiting incredible scientifict ignorance, an ignorance so profound as to be mind-boggling.

First, after the unusual 4.8 magnitude earthquake centered in New Jersey on April 5th, a Green Party senate candidate in New Jersey, Christina Amira Khalil, immediately tweeted, “I experienced my first earthquake in NJ. We never get earthquakes. The climate crisis is real.” The mocking on X was so great she quickly deleted the tweet.

Then, in an incredibly embarrassing segment of the television show, The View, one host, Sunny Hostin, showed off her complete lack of any scientific knowledge when she claimed that the earthquake, the solar eclipse, and even the normal arrival of the cicadas every seventeen years (which she thought happened every hundred-plus years) was evidence that climate change was real.

Finally, to top off this stream of utter empty-headiness, during an eclipse event in Texas, Congresswoman Sheila Jackson Lee gave a speech of such stunning incompetency and lack of knowledge you have to wonder how she can figure out how to put on her clothes each day. This quote has been most often used to ridicule her:

Now those [the Sun and Moon] provide unique light and energy so that you have the energy of the moon at night, and sometimes you’ve heard the word full moon, sometimes you need to take the opportunity just to come out and see a full moon is that complete rounded circle, which is made up mostly of gases. And that’s why the question — the question is why, or how could we as humans live on the moon? The gas is such that we could do that. The sun is a mighty powerful heat, and it’s almost impossible to go near the sun. The moon is more manageable.”

It is worth reading her entire speech, however, in order to get the full flavor of her lack of knowledge or her incomprehension of some of the most basic scientific facts. For example, later she says “Today will be the closest distance that the moon has ever been in the last 20 years. Which means, that’s why they will shut the light down because they will be close to the Earth.” Then she adds, “That the solar system is bigger than us, though there are solar systems and there are systems that are smaller than the Earth.”

I doubt she has the slightest understanding of any of this.

Though all of these idiots are leftists or Democrats, and the right has had a lot of fun making mincemeat of them over their dumbness, the problem really isn’t confined to the left. For example, consider the high number of local governments, controlled by both parties, that declared states of emergency because of the eclipse, fearing panic and car accidents. These government officials feared they would not be able to handle the large number of tourists, nor would people know what to do when the eclipse occurred.

Or as Chicken Little screamed, “The sky is falling! The sky is falling!”

That such people hold important positions in our political and cultural world, and still hold those positions after exhibiting such foolishness, speaks very ill of our entire society, not just those on the left.

Nor is these failures seen only in the political or entertainment world. The inability to think critically or with forthright intellectual honesty is now seen everywhere. For example, this week the American Library Association (ALA) released its list of what it considers the “ten most challenged” book titles in 2023, books it considered banned or censored. The problem was that more than half the books were those advocating the queer lifestyle, and the challenges to them almost all came from parents who did not want their little kids exposed to such porn in their schools. No books were banned, parents simply wanted the books out of elementary school libraries.

And yet, the head of the ALA was unable to recognize this very important and completely legitimate distinction.

“In looking at the titles of the most challenged books from last year, it’s obvious that the pressure groups are targeting books about LGBTQIA+ people and people of color,” American Library Association President Emily Drabinski said in a statement accompanying the list. “We are fighting for the freedom to choose what you want to read,” Drabinski added. “Shining a light on the harmful workings of these pressure groups is one of the actions we must take to protect our right to read.”

For Drabinski, who is a proud advocate of Marxism and the queer agenda, any disagreement is censorship, blunt and simple. It is impossible for her to analyze any dissent with any nuance.

And yet, she is the elected head of the foremost organization representing the nation’s libraries. What does that tell us about the nation’s librarians, and their ability to think critically or with intellectual honesty?

Then there was the long op-ed published yesterday by a senior business editor at NPR, Uri Berliner. He has been at his job there for 25 years, but he now considers the place a failure as a news organization, close-minded and unable to report the news with any competence.

An open-minded spirit no longer exists within NPR, and now, predictably, we don’t have an audience that reflects America.

To conservatives he states the obvious: NPR has become entirely focused on reporting only news that fits a very narrow and extreme leftist viewpoint, and as a result, it is now listened to by only a very small segment of Americans. Everyone else has been driven away by its partisan intellectual dishonesty.

He cites for examples NPR’s reporting on the Trump-Russian collusion, the Hunter Biden laptop, and the origin of the COVID virus. In all three cases the network accepted the accusations of the left without question: Trump won his election by working with the Russians, the laptop was disinformation and a fraud, and anyone who said COVID came from a lab was a wild conspiracy theorist who should be ignored.

Yet, when all three of these accusations turned to be wrong (there was no collusion, the labtop was real, and COVID almost certainly came from a Chinese lab in Wuhan), NPR refused to admit error and correct its reporting. Instead, it made believe it never happened, reinforcing this denial by generally refusing to cover the scoops that proved its reporting was wrong.

Once again, these examples are on the left, but once again, there are no consequences. Being intellectually dishonest to a point of absurdity, in a way that is plainly obvious, carries no penalty. If you get into a position of power today in America, you can pretty much say or do anything, with little fear of retribution.

From Idiocracy: “But Brawndo’s got what plants crave. It’s got electrolytes!”

And without consequence, this ignorance and arrogance of the ignorant will only grow. If you are wrong you need others to tell you bluntly that you are, and you need to be forced to listen, or else go elsewhere because of your inability to correct youself. This is how you teach people the necessary humbleness required for them to improve themselves.

Instead, our culture now teaches them to punish anyone who criticizes them. In such an atmosphere, our culture can only become even more ignorant and foolish at all levels, across the entire political spectrum.

Unless something changes very soon, this elegant, prosperous, but very complex technological society is going to collapse. It will become like the moronic society of the movie Idiocracy, where stupidity rules and critical thinking is entirely impossible.

If we aren’t already living in Idiocracy already.

[k-vanity]

Season’s Greeting: A K-Vanity Event

Suffering from the winter blues and want to head somewhere hot? Want to trade sand for snow? Here at K-Vanity, you can travel the world and experience all the seasons. This quarter’s catalog has the right outfits for the job.

Event Timeline:  

- posting period: Dec. 1st - Jan. 5th - masterlist will be posted in January 2023

Event Rules: 

- You must be a member of the network or one of our affiliates to participate in the event.  - Choose one or two themes and pair with as many extras as you’d like. (You must choose at least one outfit/theme. Extras/Accessories are optional.) - Written works must be a minimum of 500 words; no max. - For visual artists, you may choose from the themes and use what you’ve selected to create. You may also choose extras to go along with your theme. - Use the tag #kwonderland along with the net tag #kvanity when posting your work. - Regular rules and regulations from the net apply to this event. -If you have any questions about the event, reach out to one of our admins ❤

Outfits/Themes: (choose 1 or 2) - ( ) guide for writers

- Jerseys (sports/athletes) - Traditional (holiday/culture) - Swim (vacations/getaways) - Formal (special occasions) - Uniforms (professional setting) - Intimates (sensual/adult entertainment) - Lounge (hurt/comfort/slice of life) 

Accessories/Extras: (unlimited/optional) 

Winter Olympics | Beach | Autumn Leaves | Christmas | Snow Slopes | New Years Eve | Cabin in the Woods | Festivals | First Snow | Under the Mistletoe | Secret Santa | Grandiose Declarations of Love | Holiday Decorating | Holiday Party | Baking/Cooking Disasters | Hanukkah | Winter Solstice | Kwanzaa | Fireworks | Resolutions | “A silent night. I know it’s going to be.” | Transition | Orange, Red, Blue, Green | Snowball Fight/Playing in Snow | Going to see Christmas Lights | Blue, White, and Silver | Light Blue. “While winter is still freezing, it also has a magical quality to it.” | Peppermint Hot Chocolate | Hockey  | Figure Skating | Road Trips | Caroling | New York | Paris | In-Laws | Lost Luggage

These prompts were provided by the members of the fashion team.

[scoopcentral]

"Brunch is A Drag" Brings Entertainment and Delight to Jersey City

JERSEY CITY, [July 6th, 2023] — Prepare to be captivated by the lively and entertaining event, "Brunch is A Drag," hosted by Astala Vista. This weekly treat promises a delightful combination of top Drag Queens, delicious brunch selections, and an unforgettable Saturday afternoon experience.

Taking place on July 8, 2023, from 11:30 am to 3:00 pm, "Brunch is A Drag" will be held at Jersey Social, located at 837 Jersey Avenue, Jersey City, New Jersey. This exciting event aims to bring together the best Drag Queens from the Tri-State Area for an afternoon filled with laughter, dancing, and scrumptious food.

Guests can anticipate a vibrant atmosphere as talented performers take the stage, delivering hilarious performances and showcasing their dazzling talents. The drag queens will be paired with the delectable brunch offerings at Jersey Social, creating a unique and immersive dining experience.

Beyond the fabulous performances, "Brunch is A Drag" offers more than just entertainment. Exciting audience games will engage attendees, ensuring a fun and interactive experience for all.

Whether you're a fan of Drag Queens, crave delicious food, or simply looking for a lively and enjoyable Saturday afternoon, "Brunch is A Drag" has something for everyone. This event promises to be the missing piece of excitement that will elevate your weekend.

For more information about "Brunch is A Drag" and to reserve your spot, please visit: brunchisadrag.com

[opiatemasses]

Is football really what we think it is? The need for ambiguity

‘Football’, The most frequently played and watched sport across the globe, but why are so many naive to the influence it has over society?

Football has been used as an instrument to enforce ideologies and beliefs in cities and nations worldwide. For the last century, we have witnessed the exponential growth of football and the tight grip it has on people that love the game. World leaders have grown to view the sport as an effective tool for displaying their power and dominance over societies. Alongside this, football directors came to understand the value of globalizing their businesses and reaped the rewards along the way.

By taking a glance into our own back garden, we can see how Premier League clubs have exploited both worldwide and local supporters with their aggressive marketing techniques. The demand to watch and support English football, which is seen by many as the most competitive and entertaining league, is high, but what has been provided from the clubs that fans love so much? Television rights and merchandise prices that have reached entirely new heights, and a relatively strong relationship forming between football and commercialisation that seems to go hand in hand. It may even raise the question of whether one is managing a club or a corporation at this moment in time.

Image sourced from: https://www.freepik.com

Consumerism and sport have merged into one overtime, especially in football. Merchandise is something every loyal supporter believes they need to own, making them feel just that little more attached to the club that they support. Football clubs and merchandise suppliers release new garments frequently; making it more challenging every season for fans to keep up to date with the latest jersey on sale, which is almost an impossible mission for some. Clubs promote the need to purchase new style overpriced jerseys with large social media campaigns endorsed by the top athletes at the club, seemingly trying to take from their supporters’ pockets. Loyal support just doesn’t seem to be enough anymore. Why are football shirts so expensive? | FOOTY.COM Blog Arguably the most significant stakeholders in the club are those who routinely pay for tickets and purchase products. Many supporters don't place much importance on social responsibility. Even if they do, it appears that many will put their own devotion to the team and fellow fans ahead of any criticism of their club's behaviour.

The cost-of-living crisis is affecting people all over the United Kingdom. inflation has risen by 10% in the past 12 months and it’s only a matter of time until supporters start to realise that topflight football clubs do not have their best interests at heart. The constant greed from merchandise suppliers in partnership with football clubs is becoming increasingly apparent to the fans that have their eyes open to the current consumer culture. There is understanding from many that if something doesn’t change, there will be a detrimental impact on the evolution of the game.

The cost-of-living crisis is affecting people all over the United Kingdom. inflation has risen by 10% in the past 12 months and it’s only a matter of time until supporters start to realise that topflight football clubs do not have their best interests at heart. The constant greed from merchandise suppliers in partnership with football clubs is becoming increasingly apparent to the fans that have their eyes open to the current consumer culture. There is understanding from many that if something doesn’t change, there will be a detrimental impact on the evolution of the game.

‘The way they treat migrant workers, gay people. We’re dismissing human rights, it’s not right,’- Roy Keane  (ITV)

Looking at football on a global stage shows clear evidence that there is more to football than most people would believe exists. The rise of events, such as the UEFA Champions and the World Cup, is a result to advancement in engineering, political, and economic development. The most impactful being, the introduction of advanced digital technology; The ability for corporations and governments to now use ‘sport washing’ as a medium to propagate their ideologies and improve their own tarnished reputation is very apparent in the 21st century.

Examples of this are all too common. One of these includes the recent controversy surrounding the 2022 World Cup hosted in Qatar. Huge questions had been asked regarding the treatment of migrant workers, who helped build the infrastructure for the event. Confusion was the feeling many international football fans felt when they announced the host nation as Qatar. The idea that, Qatar a country that struggles to follow basic human right laws, was given the privilege to host such a prestigious event, didn’t make sense to most.

The topic of corruption has also generated debate over the competition. There have been claims that Qatar bought the tournament by paying off officials, and that the decision to award Qatar the event was not based on merit. The ethics committee's chairman, Michael Garcia, produced a report in 2014 that said the bid process was "flawed," but FIFA never made the contents of the report public and approved Qatar's bid. Not surprisingly, all was forgotten when the billions of fans across the world tuned in to watch their favourite superstars, and football results took the forefront in everyone’s minds. The negative connotations linked with Qatar appeared to vanish overnight in the media. FIFA President Gianni Infantino stated; “Qatar will deliver the best-ever FIFA World Cup". Supporters showed their resent towards the president in the stadiums during multiple matches across the tournament. The realisation that countries and supporters where being deceived began to show. Large sporting events have always been awarded on meritocracy, and as soon as supporters were aware of the controversy there was a increase in demand for change.

Football is a sport that has a significant influence on global and local society. The sport has the power to bring people together, promote social change, create economic opportunities, shape cultural trends and movements and even play a role in diplomacy. Football's universal appeal and the values it represents, make it a powerful tool for change in the world. Supporters, Players, coaches and owners all need to be made aware of the influence football has on society and the effect it could have on generations to come. The need for football to positively impact society across the world is needed now more than ever.

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Is football really what we think it is? The Need for ambiguity

‘Football’, The most frequently played and watched sport across the globe, but why are so many naive to the influence it has over society?

Football has been used as an instrument to enforce ideologies and beliefs in cities and nations worldwide. For the last century, we have witnessed the exponential growth of football and the tight grip it has on people that love the game. World leaders have grown to view the sport as an effective tool for displaying their power and dominance over societies. Alongside this, football directors came to understand the value of globalizing their businesses and reaped the rewards along the way.

 By taking a glance into our own back garden, we can see how Premier League clubs have exploited both worldwide and local supporters with their aggressive marketing techniques. The demand to watch and support English football, which is seen by many as the most competitive and entertaining league, is high, but what has been provided from the clubs that fans love so much? Television rights and merchandise prices that have reached entirely new heights, and a relatively strong relationship forming between football and commercialisation that seems to go hand in hand. It may even raise the question of whether one is managing a club or a corporation at this moment in time.

Image sourced from: https://www.freepik.com

Consumerism and sport have merged into one overtime, especially in football. Merchandise is something every loyal supporter believes they need to own, making them feel just that little more attached to the club that they support. Football clubs and merchandise suppliers release new garments frequently; making it more challenging every season for fans to keep up to date with the latest jersey on sale, which is almost an impossible mission for some. Clubs promote the need to purchase new style overpriced jerseys with large social media campaigns endorsed by the top athletes at the club, seemingly trying to take from their supporters’ pockets. Loyal support just doesn’t seem to be enough anymore. Why are football shirts so expensive? | FOOTY.COM Blog Arguably the most significant stakeholders in the club are those who routinely pay for tickets and purchase products. Many supporters don't place much importance on social responsibility. Even if they do, it appears that many will put their own devotion to the team and fellow fans ahead of any criticism of their club's behaviour.

The cost-of-living crisis is affecting people all over the United Kingdom. inflation has risen by 10% in the past 12 months and it’s only a matter of time until supporters start to realise that topflight football clubs do not have their best interests at heart. The constant greed from merchandise suppliers in partnership with football clubs is becoming increasingly apparent to the fans that have their eyes open to the current consumer culture. There is understanding from many that if something doesn’t change, there will be a detrimental impact on the evolution of the game.

The cost-of-living crisis is affecting people all over the United Kingdom. inflation has risen by 10% in the past 12 months and it’s only a matter of time until supporters start to realise that topflight football clubs do not have their best interests at heart. The constant greed from merchandise suppliers in partnership with football clubs is becoming increasingly apparent to the fans that have their eyes open to the current consumer culture. There is understanding from many that if something doesn’t change, there will be a detrimental impact on the evolution of the game.

‘The way they treat migrant workers, gay people. We’re dismissing human rights, it’s not right,’- Roy Keane  (itv)

Looking at football on a global stage shows clear evidence that there is more to football than most people would believe exists. The rise of events, such as the UEFA Champions and the World Cup, is a result to advancement in engineering, political, and economic development. The most impactful being, the introduction of advanced digital technology; The ability for corporations and governments to now use ‘sport washing’ as a medium to propagate their ideologies and improve their own tarnished reputation is very apparant in the 21st century.

Examples of this are all too common. One of these includes the recent controversy surrounding the 2022 World Cup hosted in Qatar. Huge questions had been asked regarding the treatment of migrant workers, who helped build the infrastructure for the event. Confusion was the feeling many international football fans felt when they announced the host nation as Qatar. The idea that, Qatar a country that struggles to follow basic human right laws, was given the privilege to host such a prestigious event, didn’t make sense to most.

The topic of corruption has also generated debate over the competition. There have been claims that Qatar bought the tournament by paying off officials, and that the decision to award Qatar the event was not based on merit. The ethics committee's chairman, Michael Garcia, produced a report in 2014 that said the bid process was "flawed," but FIFA never made the contents of the report public and approved Qatar's bid. Not surprisingly, all was forgotten when the billions of fans across the world tuned in to watch their favourite superstars, and football results took the forefront in everyone’s minds. The negative connotations linked with Qatar appeared to vanish overnight in the media. FIFA President Gianni Infantino stated; “Qatar will deliver the best-ever FIFA World Cup". Supporters showed their resent towards the president in the stadiums during multiple matches across the tournament. The realisation that countries and supporters where being deceived began to show. Large sporting events have always been awarded on meritocracy, and as soon as supporters were aware of the controversy there was a increase in demand for change.

Football is a sport that has a significant influence on global and local society. The sport has the power to bring people together, promote social change, create economic opportunities, shape cultural trends and movements and even play a role in diplomacy. Football's universal appeal and the values it represents, make it a powerful tool for change in the world. Supporters, Players, coaches and owners all need to be made aware of the influence football has on society and the effect it could have on generations to come. The need for football to positively impact society across the world is needed now more than ever.