#Free Eye Test Blackpool

[bubbleeyecareuk]

Free Eye Test Blackpool | Expert Opticians Near You

Imagine a world where your vision is crystal clear. Every detail is sharply in focus. Eye care is a priority, not just a necessity. Welcome to Bubble Eyecare, where we make sure everyone in Free Eye Test Blackpool has great eye health. We offer free NHS-funded eye exams. They go beyond the usual. Our team is here to help you see the world clearly.

[bubbleeyecare]

Eye Test Blackpool State-of-the-Art Pupil Dilation

Eye Test Blackpool team of mobile opticians in Blackpool mean even if you struggle to leave your home unaccompanied, you can still have an eye test. Blackpool, Lytham, Fleetwood or Kirkham, our opticians provide home visits.

[daddyhausen]

• violence. — wheeler yuta •

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{ masterlist } | { aew masterlist } | { wheeler yuta masterlist }

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{ summary } — despite a win, fury flooded through him, he needed to let that violence out one way or another

{ warnings } — 18 + { minors do not interact }, small injury spitting, domination, submissive x dominant dynamic, angry sex, face slapping, blood/blood play impact play, choking, breath play finger sucking, degradation, fingering dacryphilia, face fucking, oral sex { male receiving }, facials, cumshots, spanking, pussy slapping, forced orgasms , multiple orgasm, male + female orgasms, internal cumshots, rough sex, penetrative sex, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, creampie, squirting

{ word count } — 2k

{ pairing } — fem!reader x wheeler yuta

{ genre } — smut

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{ taglist } — @cosmoholic13 @thewrestlingbitch @omg-im-such-a-masochist @baysexuality @slut4kennyomega @wardlow @alexisquinnlee-bc @sammiejane22 @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @omegasluvbot @melissahausen @writtingrose @drummergrl1310 @unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin @bonehead-playz @cherrytheeredheadmamaclaymore @crowleysqueenofhell @romanreigns-supreme @janetreader @thenerdybaker523 @sunshinevirus @nicoleveno14 @rubyred1980 @elsteenerico @igncrxntripley @ripleyswhore

{ beta readers } — @allelitesmut + @legit9thlunaticwarrior

{ comment if you want to be added to the taglist }

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it all seemed a blur, the motion of his fist collided with the cold brick with a sickening thud, the way he showed no emotion after the fact, simply staring with a calloused scowl, completely unmoved by the tiny chips of red brick and fresh blood that flooded the pale skin of his knuckles. he’d been hardened, battle-tested by mox and the rest of the blackpool combat club. pain was nothing to him, certainly nothing he’s not been through already. still you could not help but stand in disbelief as the uncanny look of rage burned deep within him.

he’d won the match, hell, he got the pin and over kenny omega of all people. yet there was a thirst still lurking, hungry for more violence and bloodshed. punching the wall seemed like the only logical option to let said anger out.

without a word you pried his knuckles from the brick, noticing how the little chips of terracotta red stained his skin, small cuts forming around them as warm pools of blood slowly began to seep to the surface. you cupped his hand in yours, daintily, almost afraid that the slightest movement would set him off, still he remained stoic, eyes fixated on the wall still

“on your knees. now.” he muttered through a scowl, teeth clenched with a subtle growl to his words. you blinked a couple of times, you heard him of course but still could not help but be perplexed by his statement. his hand rose once more, tangling his long digits in your hair, tugging at the scalp, pushing you to your knees before him.

“you playing dumb with me, sweetheart?” his question, although rhetorical, left an unsavoury ringing in your ears. “when i tell you to do something, you better fucking do it”

the words, the actions, it just was not him, mox had definitely taught him a thing or two that’s for sure. his hand remained in your hair, tugging at the roots every so often to make sure you were looking up at him, throwing in a slap or two just for good measure. your eyes would fall to his bulge, prominent, yet hidden behind the black jeans he was sporting in place of his usual ring gear. they sat low on his hips, v-line prominent as your eyes scanned his figure.

his free hand, quick with its movements, undid the button of his jeans. in quick succession his cock now free from the shield of the fabric, slapping his tip against the swell of your bottom lip. he did not ask for you to open wide, instead using his tip to pry your mouth open, forcing himself down your throat.

“fuck…” he groaned out, elongating the word, holding himself in your throat for a few seconds. he could already begin to see the glimmer in your eyes, how they stung and burned each time you tried to inhale a breath, wet and teary, beginning to drip down your cheeks. he had not even started moving and already had you clawing at his thighs for air.

“pathetic…” he pulled back slightly, allowing the smallest chance at a breath, before slamming his cock down the back of your throat with such lovely force. he propped your skull in both hands, your mouth nothing more than a fleshlight, a toy for his pleasure only.

you managed to sneak a glance up at him, through teary, burning eyes. his head hung back in pleasure, tongue parting his lips, mouth hung slightly agape, pleasure dripping from every moan and groan that left his throat.

“feels so fucking good…” he increased the momentum of his hips, keeping your head close as he held himself down your throat once more, adoring the sounds of chokes gurgles and barely-there breaths. you nails dig into his exposed thighs, clawing down the skin with deep red marks. he’d noticed some of the blood from his knuckles beginning to drip down his wrist, on your forehead, he smirked down at the sight, loving how well the shade of ruby complemented your skin tone. he pulled away for a second, smearing the droplet of blood across your face

“you look so fucking good covered in blood, princess” he whispered through his teeth, slamming your head down onto his cock so hard that he was sure to bruise the back of your throat. “it gets me off quicker knowing that it’s my blood”

he came down your throat without warning, pulling away at the last second to let the final droplets of his cum coat your lips and chin. he took the moment to admire you, face covered in fresh blood and cum, you looked even more intoxicating than usual. your eyes rolled back from the wonderful abuse of his cock, tongue jutting out just past your lips, already looking so fucked out. he smiled down you for a moment before spitting in your face, following it up with another harsh slap to your cheek. you whimpered at the feeling, but it did nothing more than fuel the pulse between your thighs.

“get up.” he dragged you by your hair to the bed. throwing you into the mattress without a care. fingers locked into the thin fabric of your tight mini dress, tearing the material from your body with ease. his eyes peered down darkly, noticing that you’d gone bare underneath, skin so pristine and untouched.

“such a needy little whore aren’t you? showing up here with no panties under your dress, you must really be craving my dick” he offered a rough spank to your ass, one that left you whimpering with pleasure. he spun you around, back now pressed into the cheap, thin hotel mattress, hips angles upward slightly, giving him a perfect view of your dripping cunt.

“like the view?” you teased playfully, noticing how mesmerised he was with your void, he blinked a couple of times before answering with a quick slap to your cunt, the sensation made your thighs close instinctively, only for him to pry them open with little resistance, he let two fingers enter you, curling up at the sensation of your warmth, exploring your void. he glanced down between your thighs, noticing how your cunt had reddened from that single slap, how swollen your clit was. it seemed to only arouse him more, offering yet another slap, one which left you a whining mess. as much as he wanted to continue to see you unravel on his fingers, he desperately needed to get his dick wet.

“of course, baby. but…” he stalled for a moment, positioning himself between your thighs, “it’ll look better with my cock buried in it”

his lips parted with a small breath, eyes gazing down at you ravenously, the brown of his irises seemed darker, more lustful, more fixated. the sensation between your thighs only grew, the tip of his cock gliding against and parting your delicious folds with such ease, leaving your lover marvelling at the slickness, how it glistened under the warm yellow glow of the bedside lamp. your stomach whirling in excitement, anticipation crawling beneath your skin. he remained silent, offering you no warning as to when he was going to begin, he kept you on edge for a moment, a small smirk crossed his lips, watching on as you held a breath on your chest

he watched your eyes roll back in pleasure, that breath you’d been holding now a startled gasp being lustfully ripped from your throat, mouth hung agape as a moan rolled off your tongue. he found himself buried deep in you, savouring the subtle pulse of you around his shaft. he gave a soft grunt, his hips snapping against yours with a solid thrust. he’d noticed the paleness in your knuckles, how tense your grasp on the bed sheets were, how avoidant your gaze had become, not due to lack of pleasure, none of the sort. it was a wonderful feeling, it made you feel so lightweight as if you were floating, even with the minimal strokes he gave. a kind of pleasure that only seems real in dreams, hence why you felt as if you physically could not open your eyes.

he gripped your throat tightly, a slender hand wrapping around just under your jaw, thumb slowly tracing across your bottom lip to part them. the sensations seemed to have jostled you from your trance, peering up at him through glassy eyes, as he offered another rough thrust.

“what?” he mocked.

“does my dick feel that good?”

he gave you no time to respond, not even being able to reciprocate a simple nod before he began his movements, such rough thrusts leaving you feeling so full within seconds. he kept a hand wrapped around your throat, effectively keeping you in place for the moment, all the while your choked moans rumbled in your throat, spit dripping off the tip of your tongue as your mouth hung open.

“f-fuck…” you barely managed to breathe out, the word mixed in with a moan, feeling him so violently fuck you out, legs propped up, knees at your chest, he practically had you folded in half, pressing himself down against you, his cock sinking deeper into your cunt.

“look at you, can’t even speak properly. how pathetic”

his thrusts were violent, more so than usual. it was different, yes the passion was still obviously there, yet he seemed more vicious, more dominant. you enjoyed it, evident by the swell of arousal in your belly and the pool of wetness between your thighs. he could feel you tighten around him, it was rhythmic, like a heartbeat, clenching around his cock in almost perfect intervals. moans heightened with every thrust, so much so you thought the other residents of the hotel would surely put in a noise complaint.

“you’re gonna cum for me, right now” he growled, pressing his forehead to yours

“b-but i-“ you stammered before he cut you off

“i don’t give a fuck! you’re gonna make a mess around my cock, do you understand me?!”

the loudness of his voice made your ears ring, he’d increased the speed of his thrusts, trying to force an orgasm out of you. the pleasure was overbearing, making your head spin with each movement, you cried out to him, begging for mercy. you could not even comprehend your orgasm, pushing your hips up against his, feeling your sweet warmth gushing from between your thighs, feeling him smirk into your jawline

“that’s it you filthy slut, make a fucking mess” his voice more at a whisper, still it did not deter his vicious movements, he kept the same pace until he spilled over. so rough, so violent as he came inside you with zero warning, adoring the way you so graciously accepted his seed.

“so wet, so warm…your cunt is so perfect baby” he continued to thrust beyond his orgasm, making sure he filled you with every last drop of his cum. he remained inside you for the moment, letting the warmth of your cunt pulse around his size, he laid his head atop your chest, face buried into the crook of your neck, lip lingering against your skin.

“i didn’t scare you did i?” he mumbled breathlessly, now noticing the dried dots of crimson against your jawline, tracing over it daintily with his injured hand, wincing slightly upon realising his own injury

“no..” you remarked, fingers twirling the short strands of black hair that stuck to his forehead, he peered up at you, his gaze now softer than before.

“i mean it was kinda scary seeing you all violent like that but it was such a huge turn on”

he hummed into your skin, smiling into the subtle kiss he left there. hands already beginning to roam your figure once more.

“maybe i should be more rough with you all the time” he stated, leaving a lingering kiss to your jawline, injured hand coming up to groped your breast again before you sat up, much to his dismay

“let me help you fix that hand up first, then round two in the shower”

his eyes lit up at the suggestion, already making his way to the bathroom

“you don’t have to tell me twice!”

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[songtoyou]

Chapter 6: Earned It

Tolerate It

Paring: Modern!Tommy Shelby x Original Female Character

Story Rating: R (No minors should read this fic).

Word Count: 2,187

Warnings: This chapter is very smutty. Male receiving. Female receiving. Bondage. Flogging. 

Description: Tommy Shelby is the owner and CEO of Shelby Company Limited. Starting out as a Bookmaker, Tommy had big ideas to expand his riches. In the past ten years, the company has grown rapidly to expand its business ventures from bars to producing alcohol, manufacturing motor vehicle parts, and exporting. One of the richest men in Great Britain, Tommy Shelby, has it all. Unfortunately, the death of his wife, Grace, left the multi-millionaire mogul alone and depressed. He needed someone to fulfill his needs and deepest darkest desires.

Chapter Summary: Tommy takes Rose back to his place after the gala for some fun and much-needed stress relief. He continues to pry more into Rose's personal life. 

A/N: I am still getting used to writing smut. I hope I did this chapter justice.

I do not permit my work to be posted on any other site without my permission.

Tag list: @owenniasstars​

The drive to Tommy's home was quiet. Rose looked out the window as they entered the upscale London neighborhood. The homes were beautiful. Before Tommy pulled the car into his underground garage, Rose could make out the spacious townhouse. With the car in park, Rose stepped out and saw a full view of the other vehicles in the garage.

"Wow," she said, noting the different set of cars, which ranged from Audis to BMWs, to a Lexus. "You actually drive all of these cars?"

"The Audi is new. Haven't tested it out properly yet," Tommy shrugged and grabbed Rose's hand to lead her to the elevator that would take them up to the townhouse.

The main part of the home was exquisite. Tommy's tastes were immaculate. Everything was so elegant and fancy, from the furniture to the art on the wall.  However, Rose could tell that this wasn't a home that was "lived in" but rather that it was more for a show of Tommy's status and wealth. Everything was white and too clean. Nothing was out of place. It was all too designed. Nothing homey about Tommy's home, which didn't quite surprise Rose.

"Fancy something to drink before we start?" Tommy asked, lighting a cigarette. Rose turned to him and asked for a whisky, no ice. "Take a seat. I will be right back," he instructed Rose.

She sat on the couch and continued to look around the home. No family pictures insight, which was weird to Rose. With all its elegance and pageantry, this home was empty of any happiness or warmth.

When Tommy returned with their drinks, he sat down next to Rose on the couch. While Tommy practically downed his drink, Rose took small sips.

"Let's talk," spoke Tommy. It definitely was not a question but more of an order. He leaned back on the couch, and Rose repeated his actions.

"What do you want to talk about?" Rose asked, continuing to take small sips of her whiskey, which was really good. Unquestionably high-quality whiskey in Tommy's collection.

"You. If that is okay?"

Rose quirked an eyebrow. "What do you want to know about that you haven't looked into yourself?"

"Why did you leave Blackpool?"

"There was nothing there for me," Rose responded rather quickly, Tommy noted.

"Your parents still live in Blackpool," he noted. "Do you have any siblings?"

"No. Only child. I'm sure my parents wish they had more since I turned out to be such a disappointment. Not only did the Turners' only child have to get pregnant at sixteen, but she's a whore to boot. Yeah, they won that jackpot."

"Don't get down on yourself. You made a nice life for yourself and your son. Not many people can say that," Tommy reassured Rose.

"I guess so. This isn't exactly the career I had in mind, you know. I got…I needed a way to make a living without relying on my parents or Louis's father. The job I have at New City College never paid enough."

Tommy took a drag of his cigarette and exhaled the smoke. "What does your son think you do to bring in money? There is no way a part-time job as a program assistant at New City College provides enough."

"It doesn't. He thinks I work as a full-time Program Manager at the College. He will never find out what I actually do. Never. It would destroy him."

"What about your son's father? Is he still around?" Tommy inquired.

"He's around. Not much, but he stops by unannounced every so often. Louis's dad, Nick, keeps asking me to marry him. He's been asking since I got pregnant all those years ago," she revealed.

"Sounds noble of him. Why do you keep turning him down?"

"Because I don't love Nick, and he isn't exactly a good person. He has gotten into trouble. Petty crime. Some jail time. He says he has cleaned up his act, but I can't risk it, you know. Louis is still so attached to him. My son is the one I worry about getting his heart broken in all of this if his dad and I didn't work out. Which I already know we won't," Rose shared with Tommy. "You knew about Nick, didn't you? I mean, you looked into my life and my son's life. There is no reason why you wouldn't do the same to the man who got me pregnant at sixteen years old. You have too many assets to protect. You have this inquisitive need to know about everything and everyone to protect yourself. The last thing Tommy Shelby would ever want is to be blindsided. Am I right?"

Tommy downed the rest of his whiskey and loudly placed it on the coffee table with a smirk plastered on his face.

"Get undress," he ordered Rose cheekily and sat deep on the couch.

"Did I hit a nerve, Mr. Shelby?" Rose teased while starting with her shoes. "The questioning stops when I turn the tables on you, huh."

When Rose got her shoes off, she asked Tommy to help unzip the back of the dress. He did so but made sure to graze his hand against her back. 

With the dress off, Rose was standing in her fancy bra and underwear that Tommy purchased. He reached for Rose and guided her on his lap. Cupping Rose's breasts, Tommy gave them a hard squeeze and ran his hands down to her ass. Rose leaned in to capture Tommy's lips while running her own hands up his chest. She pulled off his suspenders and untucked his shirt.

"Just rip it off," Tommy ordered, "I can get a new one."

Ripping his shirt open, Rose tossed it off to the side. Tommy lifted his arms for Rose to take off his undershirt. Now completely shirtless, Rose began placing kisses all over Tommy's chest and grinding against his hard cock.

She got off his lap and got down on her knees. Rose unzipped his pants and reached inside for his cock. She began stroking it up and down and licked the precum off the tip. Tommy let out a moan that echoed throughout the room.

Soon, Rose engulfed his length into her mouth and began to bob her head up and down his shaft. It wasn't long before Tommy blew his load in her mouth, which she happily swallowed.

Before Rose could bring her mouth around him again, Tommy held her off.

"Wait," blurted Tommy while tucking himself back in his pants. For a moment, Rose was confused until Tommy mentioned taking it upstairs. She got off of the floor to him quickly and followed him. He led Rose into one of the several guest bedrooms. She saw her overnight bag in the corner. Tommy proceeded to lock the door, then close the blinds.

Reaching for Rose, Tommy wrapped his arms around her waist and placed his forehead against her own. "Tell me the words before we start?"

"Green for go. Yellow to slow down. Red for stop," Rose recited to Tommy.

"Don't ever hesitate to say Red or Yellow if anything becomes too much for you, yeah," Tommy uttered and unclipped Rose's bra and pulled down her underwear. "It has been a long day, love. I need to release all my pent-up stress and frustrations. Let me take it out on your beautiful body. Would you grant that wish, love?" Tommy asked. He wanted Rose's consent. He wanted to make sure she was okay with what he hand in store for her.

"Yes, Tommy. I consent," she replied and began to unbuckle his belt. However, Tommy stopped Rose and ordered her to the bed. She did just that and saw Tommy retreat to the closet.

When Tommy returned, he had a black duffle bag placed on the floor next to the bed. She saw he pulled out leather cuffs, a ball gag, and a Hitachi vibrator. He took cuffs and attached them to her wrists and ankles. He then got out some rope and tied each wrist to the headboard and the ankles to the end of the bed.

"You feel okay," Tommy asked, checking the ropes to make sure they were secure. "Use your words," he added when Rose only nodded her reply.

"I feel good," she answered while flexing her wrist and ankles in the cuffs to test them out.

Before Tommy got to the ball gag or Hitachi, he placed himself between Rose's legs and began rubbing his thumb along her clit. "It doesn't take much to get you wet, does it," he teased as Rose continued to grind against his thumb. He then leaned forward to trace his tongue along her folds.

The feeling of Tommy's tongue made Rose buck her hips off the bed. Tommy chuckled and used his free hand to place on her stomach to keep her in place.

When Rose was about to reach her peak, Tommy pulled away and wiped her residue from his face. She saw Tommy grab the Hitachi and bring it closer to her pussy. He spread her folds once again, placed the vibrator against her clit, and turned it on.

Starting in a low setting, Rose began moving along the vibrator to offset the sensation she felt. Whenever she was about the reach that sweet feeling of release, Tommy would pull the vibrator away. Rose would only groan in frustration. She knew Tommy was going to prolong her suffering for a while.

This continued until Rose started feeling tears sting her eyes. Tommy clicked off the vibrator once again and grabbed the extra rope that was nearby. He kept the vibrator on Rose's pussy but proceeded to tie it in place with the rope. He gave the sex toy a nice tug to make sure it stayed in place, then got off the bed. Tommy took the ball gag in his hands.

"Open," he directed Rose and placed the gag in her mouth. He secured it tightly around her head and ran his hand alongside her cheek, neck, and down to her breasts. He continued to roam her body until he reached the Hitachi and clicked it on. This time to a high setting.

"I need you to suffer for me, Rose. I need it. I crave it," Tommy began to say, "I'm going to allow you to have all the orgasms you want. I want to watch the tears stream down your face when it begins to hurt. I want to hear your muffled screams begging for me to turn the vibrator off. I want it all. So, I'm going to sit back and watch you suffer for me."

There was nothing Rose could do but endure all the pain and pleasure Tommy gave her. So, she lay there on the bed, restrained, gagged, and made to cum over and over while Tommy merely sat back and watched.

When the vibrator was switched back to its low setting, Rose opened her eyes to see Tommy standing by the bed. She could barely make out what was in his hand. It wasn't until Rose felt a stinging sensation on her stomach that she realized it was a flogger. A leather flogger from the looks of it. Tommy kept bringing it down across her breasts, stomach, thighs, and legs. He did this repeatedly, and all Rose could do was endure it.

Tommy loved the way Rose's body squirmed under the vibrator and now the flogger.

"So pretty," he said while tracing the deep red marks along her body. "Like beautiful ribbons all along your body."

After a few more hits with the flogger, Tommy put it away and upped the speed on the vibrator once again.

Rose couldn't tell how much time had passed, but by her fifth or was it sixth orgasm, everything hurt.

"That's it, love. You're almost done. I need one more out of you," Tommy encouraged as he caressed Rose's cheek while wiping away the tears. "You're doing so good," he added.

By the final orgasm, Rose let out a loud, muffled scream. Tommy turned off the vibrator, and she passed out on the bed. He took out the ball gag from Rose's mouth and wiped the excess drool from her chin. Tommy untied the vibrator from Rose's leg and unhooked the cuffs from her ankles and wrists. He began to rub back the circulation in her joints slowly. He then gently rubbed an herbal balm cream on the areas he flogged to help the irritated skin. The feeling of the cream being rubbed into her skin was soothing for Rose as she continued to lie on the bed and get her breathing under control. The session was intense but pleasurable for her. She hadn't felt that good in a long time. Yeah, it hurt, but it was a good hurt.

"How are you feeling?" Tommy asked, lying down next to Rose and wrapped his arms around her. She slowly turned more towards him to tuck herself closer to his chest.

"Good. Tired," Rose managed to say.

"Rest now, love. You've earned it."

[grapsandclaps]

GRAPS AND CLAPS REVIEWS - PCW 7TH ANNIVERSARY 'STAIRWAY TO SEVEN'.

Like any movie trilogy, there has got to be an end and here we are folks for Part 3 of PCW's 7th Anniversary weekender which ended on the evening of Saturday 18th August in front of a good sized crowd, which was promising given that Futureshock and ROH were all running big events that night plus Preston vs Stoke was on and also the big concerts involving Liam Gallagher, Britney Spears and Feeder all in the local proximity.

As I left you last time we had just finished the afternoon show on the Flag Market and was looking for somewhere to pass time for an hour, so we embarked to visit a couple of local drinking establishments that is forever growing in Preston by the month. First off was The Guild Ale House's sister pub - The Orchard which is located on Preston all-new indoor market, which for ever in you re in Preston I recommend visiting as it looks like somewhere you could easily spend a few hours.

Anyways, The Orchard even though it is relatively small, it does offer up to 10 keg lines plus 2 cask options with drinks served mainly in Schooners and costing anything upwards from £3.50, but still giving you a great taste of some of the more exotic drinks at an affordable price unlike Port Street Beer House the day before.

After having a much needed 2 half's in The Orchard whilst watching if Hemel Hempstead would score to see my Both Teams to Score bet come in (I cashed out for £27), we moved on elsewhere with the final sight of a swarm of fly's getting half cut of a 1/2 of a fruity drink in a Tiny Rebel glass - you never see stuff like this on Attenborough. Next pub was another of the new pub's to the scene 'Plug and Taps' located near to the old Corn Exchange building in the city.

As good as this pub is for it's selection of beer on tap and takeouts, you can get a bit hot and sweaty when there are a few people in there especially on a warmish Saturday afternoon as it was on this day. I had in here a 2/3rd of a Liquat sour beer costing £6 and another 2/3rds of a Outstanding Strawberry Witbier which was around the £4 range, that considered this is well worth a trip to when on your travels in Preston.

Venturing into Evoque, we took our spots in the usual position that I have taken up in the last 3 years (no not holding up the bar, before you say anything) ha! So let's get into the night's action which started at 6:10 pm with what was to be expected a raft of early matches for wrestlers who had to get elsewhere on there travels down the M6/M62.

First up was our boy Ashton Smith who is due someday to face Charlie Sterling in PCW, as they did start a feud in February, but have only had a couple of altercations since then, the last being in April/May. Ashton's opponent for this evening was Adam Brooks who has become a bit of a Marmite figure among BritWres fans some thinking he is only average and then you have some like me who has not seen him have a bad match yet, we really are a divisive bunch. 

As ever the Ashton singing section was in full voice as the match began, in what was a really good 12 minute or so opener it was Ashton who picked up a much needed win after his earlier loss to Sheikh El-Sham on the flag market, by finishing off Brooks with a modified 'Roll of the Dice' DDT to get the 3 count and off up the road to go and Futureshock Heavyweight Title against Cyanide (You can read all about that on Andrew Gibney's review that he did for me from Saturday night on The Indy Corner - cracking read as well).

Next up we had a hotly contested PCW Women's Title match with the new Champion Nightshade taking on Viper who picked up a huge win in the afternoon show against Rhio. Surprisingly with this match, it was a comprehensive victory for Nightshade as she hit a match-winning spear to Viper to retain her title and as stated on the Blackpool review hopefully on to a new batch of challengers instead of Rhio and Viper.

Tag Team action next with the Masked Duo of Suicide and Planet Bolton's own Arcadian taking on the World-Travelled Desmond Xavier and Zachary Wentz - 'The Rascals'. As expected this was a sight of high flying action, with the bulk of the match spilling to the outside and in this writer's opinion it was good to Arcadian get an opportunity to test himself against someone like Des and Zachary. Sadly for Arcadian it wasn't to be a fairy tale ending as Desmond and Zachary hit the push moonsault and Wentz covered Arcadian for the 3 fall. This was really good fun!!

Up next was the eagerly anticipated confrontation between 'The Face of the Case' Tel Banham vs Magnificent Matthew Brooks in a 'Fans bring the musical instruments' match and on inspection there was a lot of guitars in the crowd, god knows which shop they found in Preston/Blackpool to buy anything musical given our failed attempt in the morning. Early doors the musical instruments came into play as Brooks climbed a top of Banham on the ropes to use a triangle symbol to deafen Banham given that Brooks can't now use his voice to do the same thing. Brooks then set a keyboard up on the outside across two chairs which he was about to put Banham through, but as ran to do said thing, he was hip-tossed by Banham through the keyboard which sounded faintly like one of the ones PROGRESS use nowadays to make its entrance themes.

Back in the ring, with Brooks suffering from the keyboard fall, Banham tried to take the opportunity to add further misery to Brooks but Brooks managed to wriggle free to grab a didgeridoo of all things from the outside to whack Banham around the back and neck, with Brooks in control he neutralised the threat of BIG T as well, plus it has to be noted Joanna Rose got involved in Banham's business due to a confrontation at the last show when Rose was marched off to a local medical facility at the hands of Banham. With all that said , Brooks finally finished off Banham with the 'High Note' legdrop for the victory. This was everything I was expecting from the match and more to end what has been the main highlight of PCW in the past year - credit to Matthew Brooks and Tel Banham for that, take a bow lads.

Up next we had a battle of World of Sport Alumni with Iestyn Rees taking on Doug Williams who is currently in his what some have called his Retirement tour as he begins to wind down what has been a successful career which will culminate in a Wembley Arena match defending his ATLAS title against Trent Seven for PROGRESS. Rees who has been on a bit of down slope since losing his PCW Title and also Rhio in the process was looking to get back on course with a victory here against Doug, which he duly did in a hard fought contest that ended up being better than I expected it to be on paper. After the match, Doug received a standing ovation for his efforts which was well deserved!

A -ONE-TWO-THREE-FOUR SUGAR DO DO DO DO!! Yes it was Archies time once again in Evoque as Sugar Dunkerton entered the building for a 6-way contest against James Finn, Rhio, Drew Parker, Dave Birch and the mystery opponent who turned out to be none other than the Former Cruiserweight and #Boom Champion Dave Rayne strutting out to the Basement Jaxx Classic 'Get Me Off'. The start of the match played host to Sugar trying to get everyone to dance along with him, but Drew was not having any of it as he jumped Sugar to get the match going, This match was similar to the 6-way the night before with the action spilling to the floor outside, but in a stroke of good fortune it was our boy Sugar who picked up the victory to send the PCW crowd into another singing session of 'Sugar Sugar', I can say that my voice was shot from singing at this stage - ouch!!

We were treated then with an appearance by Sheikh El-Sham all suited and booted coming out to gloat about the two big victories he had picked up over the weekend on Joey Hayes and Ashton Smith respectively. In this segment, El-Sham called out PCW Owner Steven Fludder for a talk about possibly offering Fludder all of his Middle-Eastern Millions to buy the company from him and take PCW to the next level, sadly for El-Sham, Fludder wasn't of the same thinking as he politely declined Sham's offer leaving 'The Prince of Panache' seething saying that Steve will regret he ever did this. One thing I do say, PCW have done excellently to build El-Sham as the next big bad guy in the company - keep an eye on this for the next year I am guessing.

PCW Tag Team Title action next with the Champions 'The Kinky Party' Sha Samuels and Jack Jester due to take on Team Single,  Rampage Brown and T-Bone, but sadly due to Rampage still being on the shelf due to a shoulder injury that he picked up in a match against Josh Alexander for Tidal, PCW Matchmaker Greg Lambert had to search for an opponent and in he found one in the form of - 'SUGAR DO DO DO DO'. Yes it was our boy Sugar once again to form the tandem of 'T & Sugar' to see if they could rest the tag belts away from The Kinky Party, well at one stage all looked on course for T & Sugar until Sheikh El-Sham made an unwelcome appearance to attack T-Bone to cause the DQ victory for T & Sugar BOOOOOOO!! So it looks like we will be getting  Sheikh vs T-Bone match in the future at an upcoming PCW show this year.

Greg Lambert was out again next to introduce the next match which was a battle of two men from British Wrestling folklore and two men that Greg Lambert was familiar back in the heyday of the FWA with Jody Fleisch taking on 'The Wonderkid' Jonny Storm, I have to say this was a classy touch by the promotion and it made you feel invested straight away in this contest.

What followed was a great exhibition match between Storm and Fleisch who haven't missed a step, especially Jody who looks in amazing shape with his physique and it was Jody who picked the victory here over Storm in around 10 minutes to a great ovation from the crowd. It didn't end there as Doug Williams came out to congratulate both men on the match and to say to them to continue to carry the torch of the old brigade when he retires next month, this was great to listen to and even elicited a shout of 'FWA FWA FWA' from a couple members of the audience who shall remain nameless ha! 

FWA FWA FWA FWA!! - YOU CAN DO TWO THINGS ABOUT IT - THAT'S NOTHING AND LIKE IT!!

With that out of the way, it was time now for your Main Event of the evening with Dean Allmark cashing in his No.1 Contenders shot which he earned by winning the Road To Glory Tournament in February and his opponent was the Champion, Lionheart who won the title in May by defeating T-Bone. After a talking segment where Lionheart mentioned about Allmark's finisher being a version of the Styles Clash which broke Lionheart's neck a few years ago on a fateful night in Evoque, this provoked some ill-advised comments from some of the local delinquents to some right head shaking from myself.

That said, the Main Event itself was a good end to proceedings but I always had the thought in my head that once Dean Allmark wins, which he did with the Smiles Clash to win the PCW Championship that a certain Mr. Tel Banham would come out to cash in his briefcase to challenge for both titles that Deano held and low and behold, the prediction what I have been shouting ever since Dean won the Road To Glory Tournament and since Banham has had the case - finally happened as Banham snuck up from behind a prone Dean to cash in his suitcase to hit two USHI-GO-RUSHI'S to get the 3-count and your NEW PCW Cruiserweight & Heavyweight Champion - Tel Banham and in this writer's opinion a well deserved one as well.

Pictured: Your New Double Champion Tel Banham (Credit to PCW for the top picture).

In the process now for Banham, you have two ready made challengers for the belts in Dean Allmark and Matthew Brooks which should keep him busy for the next 6 months. 

So there you have it, the end of the PCW's 3-show weekender that provided lots of matches and entertainment to make the punters go home happy into the Preston night. One thing though I wish there would have been was a break in the action once again tonight, 8/9 matches in a row live can be a bit wearing on the mind but that's only one small thing. I hope you have enjoyed reading about this weekend and if it has enticed you enough, go and give PCW a try at any of there upcoming shows in Blackpool and Leeds in Early October and also there Fright Night show on October 27th with the return of Billy Gunn and X-Pac.

Next review from myself will be from NXT UK in Birmingham this coming Sunday to give you a flavour of something that you might see sometime soon on the WWE Network once they get there act together.

After that I am off to Germany for the WXW/PROGRESS show in Hamburg at the end of August and seeing as my podcast debut got good reviews, my voice will be back in September to give you a preview of some of the shows going on in the North West and Yorkshire in September including GPW/TIDAL and Futureshock Wrestling. Untll then BYE!.

#grapsandclaps

@oggypart3

[dirtdiggersanddinosaurs]

It’s not the greatest feeling knowing your birthday will fall while you are still locked down, I of all people should know as I saw my big 40th birthday plans crumble before my eyes. But as an adult we deal with the disappointment knowing that it’s a small sacrifice to make to keep our loved ones safe. However, I wasn’t so sure Stanley would be quite as understanding as he’d been looking forward to his 6th birthday since, well since the day after his 5th!

We’ve always had a ‘birthday tea’ at home to celebrate any birthday and the boys have always chosen their cake theme for me to try and create…so luckily no major changes there. But, we usually book a special day out, a mini break or a visit to an attraction too. No such luck this year! Add in the fact that extended family and friends can’t visit and I was tasked with still making Stanley’s birthday special from home. It had been James’s 3rd birthday in February and a visit to Cadbury World and partying with Nana at a family rave was very fresh in everyone’s minds, especially Stanley’s. So no pressure at all then!

I asked Stanley what he would like to do if Coronavirus didn’t exist, and he said:

I would like to go to the seaside, one with the games and the bit that goes out over the sea that you can walk on, and has the crocodile with the sausages!

Bless him! I assumed he didn’t mean the coast of Northern Australia, but rather a humble UK resort where Punch & Judy usually reside. I was determined to make that happen for him one way or another!

Oh, We Do Like To Be Beside The Seaside!

We don’t have a garden as such, but we recently did a yard makeover (read about that here) so I had a little more room to play with. All I needed was some good weather – ha ha yes, I know! As it happened we dropped lucky and it was beautiful on the day, but fully prepared for a UK summer I had an emergency canopy backup plan too.

Oh we do like to be beside the seaside!

In order to bring the seaside to Stanley I first wrote down all the things that we love about it. Then I found a carnival type font online, printed a few copies of the alphabet and crafted my own ‘signposts’

Handmade signs

The Beach

Yes, it’s an obvious one but essential really. I ordered 3 bags of play sand to be delivered and found some blue tarpaulin in the shed that would serve two purposes, to stop the sand from spreading too far and to give the illusion of the sea.

A few deckchairs, bucket and spade sets and we were all set.

The beach

The Arcade

There’s nothing Stanley likes more than taking a tub full of 10p and 2p coins into the arcade! One of his favourites is ‘the grabber’ or claw games where you have to try and win a prize, usually an impossible to grab plush toy.

The arcade crazy claw

I did a bit of searching online and found a ‘crazy claw’ game on Amazon. This is actually a family board game of sorts but I knew I could adapt it to our needs. I built the game up, used the tokens and balls from the set but then added a party bag of haribo sweets. I tested it out, it was nearly impossible to grab the sweets, and I was left highly frustrated yet determined to give it one more try – brilliant, just like the real thing!

Not as easy as it looks!

My second game was a tin can alley set up. I started off trying to make my own, but I was worried about sharp edges with so many little fingers around so I purchased one in the end. It is a lovely set though and we have it to keep, it will be good fun on camping holidays.

The arcade tin can alley in full swing

A gift of a pair of paddleballs from our neighbour (who was in on the plan) completed our arcade. For a bit of healthy competition the winners from each game received a token (re-purposed from the Crazy Claw game) to use in exchange for…

Donkey Rides

This required some imagination, OK a lot of imagination and a sense of humour too! By this point I had decided that anything to make us all laugh during these strange times was a good thing. A donkey mask was fashioned onto Eli’s baby tricycle and voila, we had the fastest donkey this side of Blackpool! I knew it would make Stanley laugh but I expected him to think it was a bit silly and more of a token gesture. But nope, this birthday boy went hurtling down the back alley on the worlds smallest donkey a number of times throughout the day.

Our trusty steed!

Fish & Chips

Our local chip shop had re-opened the week before offering a time slot collection service, and guess what? – they even served the children’s meals in a bucket and spade!

Yummy!

Well, that just had our names written all over it and the boys sat at the beach eating their lunch. Admittedly I had to take Stanley and James’s food out of the buckets and plate it up as they complained that they couldn’t eat it properly. I’ve learned not to get between boys and their food, Eli persevered though!

Fish & Chips on the beach

Ice-Cream

What else? We have a stable style backdoor so Daddy became an ice-cream man and took orders from his ‘kiosk’.

Ice-cream, get your ice-cream!

We had three flavours to go at and a choice of toppings, the end result was three very excited (and messy) boys.

Chocolate with a flake, excellent choice sir!

The Pier

This is where my cardboard hoarding came in handy! I wanted to recreate the face hole photo opportunities that are usually found on the pier at seaside resorts. I drew a cartoon character, complete with victorian style bathing suit onto a piece of thick cardboard. After painting it in I drew the outline in thick marker and then cut out the face hole. Ben made a base from scraps of wood he found in the shed so that it was free standing. We had great fun with this, we all had our photos taken.

Memories

We’ve had some amazing times at the seaside and Stanley always remembers his grandad knotting a hanky and putting it on him as a hat, and I can remember my Grandad doing it too to stop his bald head from burning. So, that was our party hats sorted, I already had some brightly coloured stripey napkins so I knotted them into hats, generational Grandad style chic.

Grandad chic

Two days before Stanley’s birthday we had the good news that Nana could become part of our social bubble. She was able to celebrate and spend the day at the seaside with us (although I think she came purely for the ice-cream ha ha). It made Stanley’s day and there were lots of long awaited cuddles to be had for all three boys.

Having Nana back was the best present!

We also had some socially distanced visits to the gate from Stanley’s friends, and they were able to have ice-cream with us too which was lovely and a nice surprise for Stanley.

After we had sung Happy Birthday and he had blown out his candles on his cake I asked Stan if he’d had a good day, and his verdict was…’BEST BIRTHDAY EVER!’

Fun in the sun for this birthday boy

I think lockdown birthdays can be just as much [if not more] fun than the all singing and dancing parties we were all used to pre Covid-19. If you put a little bit of effort in to make them memorable, you’ll have big smiles all round. But don’t just take my word for it, I asked my fellow bloggers how they made a lockdown celebration one to remember:

Sarah from Digital Motherhood:

We’re in Spain so it’s a bit different, though we were still in lockdown! I ordered cupcakes and we decorated the house with streamers, banners and balloons. We were allowed a small group of people around by the end of May so we had my parents and my daughter’s friend here for a bit. It was actually the day after they started to ease the rules so she was very lucky!

Michelle from Time and Pence:

We created a treasure hunt in the garden and gave my son clues to find lots of treats. We also arranged for his friends and family to have video chats and send him video messages then we ended the day with a BBQ and movie night! He had an extra surprise present in place of a party and he had a wonderful day!

Josie from Me, Them and the Others

We asked friends and family to record birthday messages for our son and then I edited them together to create a birthday video for him.

Erica from Things To Do In Kent

It was our son’s 4th birthday at the very beginning of lockdown so we were quite unprepared. We hastily put together a picnic in the garden and he got Gazillions bubble machines which he and his big brother loved playing with in the garden. For his older brother’s 9th birthday more recently we had a surprise movie day. I made a poster, we had far too many sweets and popcorn and he chose his favourite takeaway (Thai!), I would quite enjoy that for my own birthday!

Katrina from Trini Mama Bebe

We had a drive by birthday from friends and family, and even my sons favourite emergency service came to say hello. They gave him some sweets and some lights and sounds. It’s amazing what a tweet can do!

Nadia from Scandi Mummy

We celebrated our son’s 1st birthday in June with a little rainbow garden party as he’s a rainbow baby and it was (unsurprisingly) easy to find rainbow decorations and a cake to match!

Katie from Mums Family Fun

I organised a scavenger hunt and quiz with my son’s football buddies via Zoom for his 7th birthday. They all sang Happy Birthday to him with his cake. It was really lovely and he had a great day!

Kasia from Oh Mummy Mia

I made a cake for my son because we couldn’t buy any because of lockdown. I tried my best. He loves dinosaurs so the cake was with a dino theme. We did a picnic in our garden for his friendly dinosaurs and later we made homemade play doh and footprint fossils.

Paige from Paiges Preferences

We did a circus/fair for my sons 5th birthday. I have a highlight on my Instagram dedicated to it!

Kerry from Blissful Domestication

We did my sons 7th birthday as a pirate party. Activities included a treasure hunt, fancy dress, a video of happy birthday messages from friends, family and teachers. We decorated a tent for a tea party, and had a treasure chest piñata. Read all about our pirate party here.

Layla from Motherhood Diaries

I got the entire class to send my middle one a birthday message, along with other friends and family and compiled then together along with a Timeline of his birth to present day. He was chuffed! Read more of my party ideas here.

If you are feeling inspired by Stanley’s seaside birthday then check out my Pinterest board for more ideas.

All images are my own unless otherwise credited and must not be reproduced without permission.

Our Lockdown Birthday: How We Made It The Best One Yet! It's not the greatest feeling knowing your birthday will fall while you are still locked down, I of all people should know as I saw my big 40th birthday plans crumble before my eyes.

[kyloripped]

Slice

@spockandspan challenged me to write a fic with the theme of “Star Wars”, “A Slice of Cake” and “Seaside”. So if you desire a kylux fic set in Blackpool with a very put out Hux forced to work in an old lady tea room over the summer with the unexpected customer of a surly goth Ben Solo, this is the fic for you...

[Ao3 Link]

 The bell over the door tinkled as Hux pushed it open. With a sigh, he picked up the eye watering flowery apron hung carelessly over a hook and yanked it around him. He fastened the lurid green spotted tie around his waist and just managed to plaster a smile onto his face as the owner of the tearoom waddled in from the back room. He frowned.

“We talked about the smiling.” Mr. Snoke said, “I would rather you didn’t bother. You look like you’ve stolen one of my lemons from the pantry.”

Face falling into a scowl, Hux turned to sort out the spoons in the cutlery rack. Three more weeks. Three more damn weeks and he would be free from this shitty summer job. His heart sang as he imagined never having to look at a victoria sponge again, never having to hear that the yellow and green of his apron looked lovely with his hair. It didn’t. People lied because they could see the pain Hux was in at being exiled in an old lady tearoom in one of the nicest summers in memory.

The seagulls gave their ringing calls outside, a few braver ones floating down to nick a few crumbs of cake from the tables outside before attacking locals for their cones of chips. Snoke berated Hux for not cleaning the tables properly and Hux imagined using the cake slicer on his stupid wrinkled head as he scrubbed the fussy tablecloths clean again. Families walked past with small children crunching on sticks of rock, a few pointing hopefully at the quaint little tearoom Hux was currently imprisoned in. The parents cast their eye over his tortured expression, gave him a sympathetic look and poked their children towards the beach instead.

Blackpool was full to the brim with beachgoers, eyes on the tacky slot machines and feet free to walk the gritty sand as they pleased. Hux was full to the brim with irritation, although he supposed it was fairly pleasant to start the day with a piece of cheesecake. He put himself back in Snoke’s good books a little when he made them both a cup of tea in one of their more chipped teapots. He sat behind the till and sipped, feeling a little sanity slipping back in with the tea.

The day began with the typical crowd. Gaggles of elderly ladies flocked in like bright hatted birds, complaining loudly about the weather and complimenting him one after another on his hair. They were alright really; if Hux smiled and snuck them an extra biscuit or two he could often wangle a tip.

To be honest, it was the children that tested his nerves, the young ones with their endless mess and the surly teenagers who wouldn’t even look at him when they ordered their food. In the afternoon Hux looked up to see an exact specimen wedged into the furthest corner he could find and staunchly ignoring both of his parents.

Sighing with the inevitability of it all, Hux wandered over with a carefully edited version of his usual smile. There was a lingering feeling of an argument with this family, the father being too loud and bright and the mother sighing when she thought no one was paying attention. The son had his arms crossed and was staring out of the window at a boat. He was frowning at the boat as if it had done him a personal offense.

He was kind of spectacular, this specimen. Thick eyeliner, black nail varnish and clothes entirely inappropriate for a visit to the seaside. Too many chains for one thing. Goth. Hux’s mind supplied with amusement. His lip twitched. Unfortunately, the boy noticed and the long nose turned towards him.

“Hello?” The boy said, a little too rudely.

Ah, American. Hux thought. His amusement grew. He actually liked it when people were rude because it meant he was allowed to be rude back.

“Oh, hello.” Hux repeated sweetly, “You quite surprised me there. Blended in with the corner.”

His scowl deepened as the father snorted. The mother gave him a warning look and turned imploringly to Hux instead.

“Could we order, please?” She asked, looking quite like she wished they hadn’t bothered coming in at all. Feeling sorry for her, Hux relented.

“Of course.” He brought out his notepad, “What can I get for you?”

While the parents ordered, the son looked down at the patterned placemats. His dark hair fell across his shoulder to reveal a big ear with many piercings. Hux was distracted by a particularly large silver one, wondering if it was as ridiculously heavy as it looked.

“Ben?” The mother said suddenly, breaking him out of his reverie, “What do you want?”

The boy looked up for approximately one second before bringing his attention back to the placemat.

“Nothing.” He said in an unexpectedly deep voice. His mother sighed again.

“Ben, please.” She sounded at the end of her tether. Ben just shrugged.

“I’ll just, ah, go.” Hux said pointedly.

He reversed as quickly as he could in the limited movement his tight apron allowed, blessing the fact that the large cake counter would hide this dismal family away from view. He had managed maybe five paces when a bored voice called.

“Can I have a lemon drizzle cake?”

Hux didn’t mind serving people, but he didn’t like being called at like a housemaid. He turned back and shone the full force of his unedited smile at this irritating boy.

“Of course.” Hux beamed at him, “Anything else? A drink?”

“Uh.” He was pleased to see the boy looking a little unsettled. “A… coffee. Black.”

Hux cocked an eyebrow at him. Ben looked a little sheepish.

“Two sugars, actually.”

Feeling victorious, Hux moved to the kitchen area and began preparing the drinks. As he had wished, a large carrot cake blocked Ben’s stupid face quite nicely. As the kettle gave a dull roar and the coffee machine gurgled in its long-suffering way, Hux set about slicing the cakes. Unfortunately, his mind was still on the strange goth boy and his family and he wasn’t paying ample attention to his job. The knife slipped and he cut his finger quite marvellously on the sharp blade.

“God fucking damn it, shit-“ He cursed, inspecting the jagged cut. There was a slight cough from the right. Hux looked up to see none other than Ben leaning over the counter and looking faintly amused.

“Uh, hi.” He said. It was Hux’s turn to scowl.

“What do you want?” He shot back, forgetting as usual his promise to Snoke to be polite to every customer. Ben’s amused expression didn’t falter for an instant.

“I was wondering if I could have a cookie too?” He asked, pointing at a jar on the counter.

“It’s not a cookie.” Hux sniffed haughtily, “It’s a biscuit.”

“Whatever.” Ben said, “Three, please. I kinda need a peace offering here.”

Feeling thoroughly pissed off now, Hux reached for the jar. But Ben reached over at the same time and Hux saw that he had a few leather wristbands and a spiky bracelet just before the hand accidentally settled on his. He stared.

“You’re bleeding on the cake.” Ben supplied helpfully. With a jolt, Hux looked down and saw that his finger was dripping fine red drops onto the slice of lemon drizzle cake he had just cut.

“Oh, fantastic.” Hux snapped, “What a great day. Really adds a special something to the whole experience, don’t you think?”

“I do.” Ben grinned. He had a nice grin, very goofy on his mismatched face. “I would rather have less blood on my cake though.”

“Honestly? I would have expected that to be your sort of thing.” Hux said, eyeing the pentagram necklace hanging on his neck. Ben gave a laugh.

“Not really. Here,” He pulled a napkin from the cutlery stand and held it out. Hux took it gratefully and wrapped it around his finger.

“Thank you.” He really didn’t need a throbbing finger to add to his already stressful day. “I’ll try not to bleed on the next slice.”

“Good.” Ben was still grinning, “Love your apron.”

Hux stared as he stalked off with the plate of biscuits, treated to his nicely broad back. He had no business having a back as nice as that. Hux was feeling a little disgruntled as he wiped the bloody evidence away on the plate below him.

Eventually he got the cakes out, balancing them awkwardly on a tray as he tried not to jostle his finger. There was an air of a stalemate at the table now, for which Hux was grateful.

“Sorry for the wait.” Hux said as he laid the teapot on the table, “I had an unfortunate kitchen situation.”

“That’s okay, kid.” The dad replied, giving him a winning smile, “We have enough of them at home.”

The mother kicked him under the table. As he cursed she turned to Hux.

“Ignore him.” She said, staring daggers at her husband, “I’m an excellent cook. I just have terrible critics.”

The father and son exchanged a glance but seemed to think it safer not to reply to this. Hux could help but slip into a smile, a real one this time. Ben was watching him closely.

“I’ll be over here if you need anything.” He said, pointing to the till, “Just call or frisbee one of the plates over. Anything to break the monotony.”

He had played his cards right and the family laughed. He felt pleased as he settled back behind the cake counter, glad that he had managed to steer a family away from total destruction. He had seen it happen too many times this summer. Tears and broken plates and crying before the tea had even stewed properly. But the family looked quite chipper as they settled into eating the cakes. He busied himself with wiping a few tables and slipped them another plate of biscuits when Snoke disappeared into the back room.

Unfortunately, the tearoom began filling up with the usual afternoon crowd and Hux was weaving through the frilly cushioned chairs and wooden tables with the balance of an acrobat, balancing cakes and precious cups on tea carefully in his arms. He couldn’t go back to the family until he gave them the bill, and even then an old dear pulled at his sleeve and distracted him. When it slowed down he saw to his dismay that they had left.

Filled with something resembling disappointment, Hux set about clearing the table. His hands brushed across the crumbs and abandoned knives and forks until they settled on a napkin that had been under Ben’s plate. It looked untouched, but when Hux looked down at it he saw words had been written on it in eyeliner.

What’s your name?

Hux stared at the clumsily written words. He whipped his head around the café, searching for this distinctly weird boy. But he just saw a few coiffed hairdos and canes. Confused, he spent the rest of the day with the napkin in his aproned pocket.

 ***

The next day dawned with an iron-grey sky heavy with the threat of raindrops. Hux cursed the wretched sun for choosing today to disappear as he frantically pulled the tablecloths off of the outside tables when the heavens finally broke. Blackpool Tower was blurred in the rain, red lights blinking forlornly in the deluge. Hux ran back into the tearoom with his arms full of sopping fabric, hating the summer and hating whoever invented tablecloths even more.

In the afternoon there was a sea of sodden coats and rain slicked hair as beachgoers huddled to escape the deluge. The café was rather small and Hux felt a little claustrophobic as he sliced cake after cake, his finger encased in a flowery plaster Snoke had pulled from some god-forsaken cupboard. About midway through his shift he looked up and started as he saw a dark shape dripping in a long coat in the corner.

Smoothing his wet hair into something resembling neatness, Hux walked over to the table. Yes, he recognised the long nose peeking out of the hood. The painted black nails came up to lower the hood and Ben shook his mane of hair out like a dog. His make-up was running a little today, Hux was pleased to notice.

“Why, hello.” Hux said smoothly, slipping a menu onto his table. “I can’t believe you actually came back to this shithole.”

Ben just looked at him, head tipped to the side as he surveyed Hux. He held himself differently without his parents. He was a little cockier and sat a little less stiffly on his chair. Hux suddenly remembered the feeling of the hand on his own, warm and unexpected.

“Guess it was more interesting than I thought.” Ben suggested, “I’ll have another cookie, please.”

“Biscuit.” Hux turned swiftly around.

“Same thing.” Ben called after him. He lifted up the menu and grinned when another napkin fell onto his lap.

Hux.

  ***

 This sequence repeated for a few days. How Ben could both afford and have the appetite for so many biscuits, Hux didn’t know, but he quite enjoyed having the dark shape huddled in the corner every afternoon. They could have easily talked but there was something quite fun about exchanging the messages, especially when Ben came back with his parents later on in the week. Snoke also kept his beady eye on Hux if he spoke with people for too long anyway. Hux spent the late afternoons washing the various patterned pieces of crockery with the messages in his pocket.

Hux?

 “Ben the Goth”?

 Fair. Here long?

 Three more weeks. Save me.

Aw damn, I’m here two.

 Lucky.

 Do you have a break at all?

 Hux had thought long and hard about an answer to this. He had to go into the back on the pretence of checking the lemons for non-existent mould so that Ben couldn’t see him grin.

 Maybe.

 There, that was good. Not too eager, but enough for Ben to grasp onto. He waited impatiently for the next message and it did not disappoint.

 What do I have to do to get your number?

 Hux forced his expression into neutrality and dropped the napkin in front of Ben, heart beating fast as he walked away and saw the hands grasping for it.

 More than you’re doing now.

 Hux loved watching Ben read that one. His eyes widened and his big lips parted in surprise. He looked up and gave Hux such an annoyed stare that Hux whisked behind the counter to safety. He wiped some crumbs away from the money drawer and so didn’t catch the shadow until it had fallen over him.

“Asshole.” The growl came from above. Hux straightened up and feigned an innocent expression.

“I’m sorry.” Hux offered, “Was your food unsatisfactory?”

It was lucky that it was the end of the day, as no customers were there to witness Ben darting across the counter and grabbing the front of Hux’s apron in a very ungraceful way. Hux could barely give even a squeak as Ben pulled him close and kissed him roughly against the glass of the cake counter. For all of his fury he didn’t seem very experienced; all big nose and awkward hands. But it was lovely really, although Hux hope that they hadn’t jostled the battenbergs too badly. When Ben drew back he had smudged lipstick and a distinct challenge in his eyes. Hux suspected that he had lipstick all over his face and liked it.

“I’m sorry.” Hux said after a few moments, “Is that how you treat every waiter you meet?”

Ben gave a huff, still holding onto his apron.

“No.” He said, clearly annoyed that he hadn’t completely rendered Hux speechless with his actions, “Only the particularly annoying ones.”

Hux kissed him again just to shut him up. Ben was better this time, leaning into it a bit more. Hux’s hand found his waist and then slipped under his shirt to feel his stomach. Ben shivered at the touch of his cold hands.

“I’m free this evening.” Hux said, very pleased at this discovery, “Make it worth my time.”

He slipped his hand just slightly below his waistband and Ben gave another shiver.

“Meet me at the pier.” He said very quickly, “Eight. Wear the apron.”

This actually did render Hux speechless for a moment.

“What?” He protested.  Ben looked him up and down, seemingly absorbed with the sight.

“I lied before. It’s terrifying.” He said, almost in an awed voice, “I can’t imagine you without it.”

Hux just shook his head in exasperation. Ben was utterly ridiculous. And yet, and yet. He felt very nice, and he kissed even more nicely with a little prompting.

“You weirdo.” Hux just said, “Fine, eight it is. Buy me dinner.”

Ben grinned at him and slunk away, moving to pick his bag from the table. The sky was slowly leaking orange into the darkening blue as Ben made his way out of the door and towards the beach. As Hux watched him go, he wondered if his job was really so terrible after all. 

(Here is the majestic beauty of the apron. You’re welcome).

[dungeons-and-dickheads-blog]

The Jailbreak

Orisk Ironfist wakes to the smell of decay and unwashed bodies.  His head is throbbing; his face is pressed into the rough hewn wooden floor. He sat up and surveyed the room around him. The cell is small, with wooden bars, but no windows; only a murder hole in the ceiling.  There’s a cot in one corner, and bucket in the other, along with several sharp shards of stone.  He needs the attention of the guards, so he uses the sharpest looking shard to saw into his leg. The wound is deep enough to bleed, but not deep enough to cause any real damage.

He calls out to one of the guards for help, but the single man that comes to his aid scoffs at his superficial and obviously self-inflicted injury.  As the guard turns to head back down the latter into the lower levels of the Blackpool Prison, Orsik (who is a small man – even for a dwarf) slides through the bars of his cell, and is free.  He sneaks carefully up behind the guard, on the second or third rung of the ladder leading downwards, and kicks him forcefully.  The guard falls, and Orsik doesn’t move again until he hears an echoing thud and a splash.

Out of the corner of his eye, Orisk notices an elderly man even smaller than he is slip nimbly through the rather widely space bars of his own cell.  Whoever had designed the prison had not had gnomes in mind.  He approaches the large hole in the center of the room, looking back and forth between it and Orsik’s face.

“I suppose I should thank you,” he says, “for taking out the guard.  I was just waiting for him to leave so that I could get out.”

Orsik grunts in return.  

The gnome sticks out his arm to shake the dwarf’s hand.  “Eldon. Eldon Ningle, though I go by Tock.” Tock had a slight tremble in his hand, shifting eyes, and his head twitched to the side like he had a subtle form of turrets.  Orsik’s overall impression of the gnome was that he wasn’t quite totally present, ‘upstairs’.

Orsik shook his hand and gave him his own name.   As they looked back down to the ladder to inspect it, they heard a crunch like that of breaking wood.  They turn and see a tall human man, who then turned and crashed through the bars of the only remaining occupied cell.  From the last cell emerged a strikingly handsome young tiefling man.  

The four gather around the large hole in the center of the room, looking back and forth between each other before the human finally spoke up.  “Well, what are we going to do?”

Orsik picks up a still mostly intact bar from Marben’s cell, slapping it twice against his own hand to test that it wouldn’t break under pressure.  “Well, I’d suggest we arm ourselves, and start to look for a way out.”

Tock, the human, and the tiefling all found cell bars they would use as primitive clubs and then the party descended into the lower levels of the prison.

At the bottom of the ladder they found a large iron door, which was unfortunately locked.  They also found a stagnant pool of sewage next to a grate that seemed to lead into the city sewer system.  Lying in the pool was the guard, who was fortunately dead.  Orisk searched the body of the guard, retrieving from it a small purse of gold and a short-sword.  Eldon searched the corpse as well, taking particular interest in the pockets of the dead guard’s coat, and finding a small pocket watch.

The old gnome grinned widely, and then set to dismantling the watch into parts that could be used to pick the lock of the large iron door.  Orsik watched him carefully; skeptical about whether or not Tock could actually use the antique to help them escape.  

The human man suddenly again spoke up, “I think we should split up, two and two.  Gives us a better chance of us finding a safe way out of this place.”

Orsik nodded.  “That sounds like a fine idea,” trailing off, imploring the young man for his name.

“Marben,” the human said.  “My name is Marben.”

“Well, Marben,” Orsik said, “You and I will take the sewer path.  Tock and the tiefling will stay here and try to unlock that door.”

The tiefling scoffed.  Orsik narrowed his eyes at him.  “Do you have a problem, tiefling?”

“No, sir, I would just be eternally grateful if you referred to me by my name and not as ‘the tiefling’ as if it leaves a bad taste in your mouth,” he said, the phrase dripping with sarcasm and content. “It is Scamos.”

“Well, fine, Scamos,” Orsik answered, turning back to Marben.  “Tock and Scamos will stay here and try to unlock the door.”

Scamos hmphed and crossed his arms, still dissatisfied.  Tock set to work with his macgyvered lock picks, and Marben and Orsik slid through the bars of the grate leading to the sewers, down a sharp incline.  Orsik shortly thereafter lost his footing, sliding down the slippery slope into the basin below with a loud splash.  He kicks at something biting him on the leg as Marben pulls him out of the rank water, and the two look around until they find a grate that they suspect leads to the tributary of the Avonmore River that runs through the center of Blackpool, and the outside world.

Meanwhile, Tock is able to open the door with surprising ease, and he and Scamos, as stealthily as they can, make their way through the door into the room beyond.  There are four armed guards who the pair cannot escape without notice. Scamos rushes in to fight, but Tock recedes into the shadows.  

Scamos manages to gore two of the four to death with his makeshift club before Orsik and Marben, returning to inform their companions of a possible escape round, come through the door, weapons drawn, and finish of the remaining guards.  Orsik with a smooth decapitation, and Marben with a stab through the back of the neck (and the aid of a small gnome gnawing on his ankles). 

They find a large chest in the center of the room, which they presume holds their belongings. They are correct in assuming so, however, there is a fifth set of armor within as well.  Tock beings to speak up and ask who it might belong to when they hear another crash upstairs among the cells.  They return the room with the ladder that leads back upstairs.  Scamos looks up the ladder, and sees the face of a devilishly handsome young man.  He says: “Hello, all.  My name is Vlad, and your entire party will earn my unending loyalty if you are willing to aide in my escape.”  They party agrees to accept Vlad, as if they have much choice, and they all don their gear and head for the escape grate. 

Orsik runs headfirst down the slope, sliding on his stomach down into the basin he’d been in before.  The rest follow him carefully down the incline, careful not to slip and fall into the pungent water below.  Tock looks through the grate and says, “Why, that’s the spillway.  That leads directly to the center of Blackpool.”

Marben pulls Orsik from the water once again, and the group continue carefully along the stone walkway leading around the edges of the room.  Orsik again goes spilling into the water when he steps on a loose piece of stone and the floor beneath him crumbles from under his feet.  Vlad pulls him from the water this time,  seeming already to be fed up with the dwarf’s antics and attitude.

Luckily for the group, Tock has several climbing pegs that they can use to cross the gap without issue.  Before they can cross their makeshift bridge however, they are attacked by the cryptworms which had been biting Orsik under the water.  The group battles the pests with ease, Orsik flamboyantly jumping onto the back of one and cutting a gash behind it’s head with one of his axes.

When they make it to the grate, Tock attempts to swim under it, into the spillway, but the current and the cryptworms still in the water are too much for the small, elderly man.  Vlad, preferring to use his brawn over his brains, simply beats a larger hole in the grate with his war-hammer and the party waltzes out of the prison easily.

Tock snipes worms for samples while the others wash the repulsive sewage from their clothes and gear.  They mutually decide to head up to the town, where the group discovers and Inn and Tavern aptly named Spillside.  Scamos makes himself comfortable upon entry, strumming his lute, and earning a few coins along with the favor of the Innkeeper, a dwarven woman named Gerda.

Tock retires for the night under a bed in an already occupied room, while Orsik makes several attempts to woo the lovely Gerda.  The tactless dwarf makes many graphic comments about the size of his member, to which Gerda responds: “Those who claim to carry a great sword most often only posses a dagger.”  In an effort to prove her wrong, he drapes his sizable package over the bar, receiving a fork straight through as punishment.  Marben and Vlad watch the scene unfold with amusement, throwing back ale after ale in fierce competition to see who could drink the other under the table first. 

The group rents rooms from the night, Scamos receiving his for free for his musical delight.  In the morning, Orsik wakes to a sealed letter on his bedside table, signed by the leader of a local thieves guild.

Meanwhile, Tock displays great aptitude for acrobatics for such and elderly gnome, deftly stealing a very valuable gem from a local magic shop and a clock from the room he’d stayed in the night before. 

The party sets out to find the leader of the local guild, headed towards a specific location mentioned in the letter Orsik received.  When they arrive, there is only a petite woman, her face covered with a black veil.  She gives them simple instructions: go to this place, retrieve this golden tablet engraved with the image of an ancient Dwarf Lord.  She offers them gold to keep themselves, and with which to bribe the guards of Blackpool to forget their crimes.

The party agrees to the woman’s terms, a great love for both gold and adventure burning in their chests as they set off south from Blackpool on what will surely be the greatest adventure of their lives. 

[theotherscarmanthewoman]

Series 2 Episode 2: Sweet Thumbelina don’t be glum (and other stories)

Anyway, the cat loses interest; perhaps it’s intending to eat the freshly-murdered Mr. Farrow instead. However, the Doctor rules out getting back to the ship just now, because cats are super-quick and he doesn’t fancy being a part of its diet. This has touched a nerve with Babs, who reckons this is getting more horrifying every moment; clearly being eaten by cats is something she, as someone whose flat (according to Ian in one of his douchier moments right at the beginning of the show) is probably full of stray animals like a sixties Disney Princess (well, she’s got the physics-defying hair for it), fears above all things. Just thought I'd bring up that little gem. What is more likely is that, as discussed in previous episodes, the relentless threat of death is starting to Bother our Babs. Susan asks whether they ought to try communicating with the people here, but the Doctor and Ian are against it because of Science: they’ll sound like a squeak and the unshrunk humans will sound like a low growl. Barbara, however, has other fears: that they will be seen as freaks who will be put in glass cases and examined under microscopes. We seem to be learning a lot about Barbara’s phobias this week. The Doctor has another important thing to add: the people who live in this house are murderers and therefore have insane and/or criminal minds and are incapable of showing sympathy and understanding. So there. You share those Victorian attitudes to mental health, Doctor! Though to be fair, he's not wrong about the whole 'don't put your trust in murderers' thing.

Babs wonders whether they oughtn’t to do something about that there murder; the Doctor reckons they can do sod-all in their current state. But before they can get into it, a giant leg approaches—everybody run! AND OH WE HAVE TRIPPAGE! BARBARA HAS GONE OVER ON HER ANKLE PURELY FOR THE PURPOSES OF SPLITTING UP THE GROUP. Though it should be noted that Susan tries to go back for her. Yes Susan. (As well you might, after Babs was willing to be guillotined rather than leave you behind when you were afflicted with that narratively-convenient headache.) The Doctor and Susan head over to a pipe, while Ian gets Barbara to join him in the briefcase. Looming above the briefcase is our murderous businessman Forester, who is chatting to Smithers the Scientist, who is wearing a lab coat because he is a Scientist. He tries to tell him some cock-and-bull story about Farrow stealing the formula and accidentally shooting himself, but a brief examination of the body (which merely looks like a pen has exploded over its shirt) puts paid to that. Smithers, rather coolly, advises him not to try that shit with the police, as Farrow has clearly been shot through the heart from some feet away. No flies on Smithers. (Or on anyone, if DN6 makes it to production. Yeah I’m paying attention to the plot!) Anyway, the reason Smithers is so unfazed by the body is because apparently he’s seen people dying of starvation all over the world, which is why he’s been developing DN6. And he’s been working crazy hours for the past year to do it, too, and is pissed off that Forester didn’t just try to bribe Farrow instead. Forester reckons he can make it look like a boating accident seeing as how Farrow was off on his French river cruise…which I seriously doubt, seeing as how the body will still have a gunshot wound in it when the police find it washed up on the Riviera. Smithers doesn’t give a shit as long as he can stop people starving to death. Which is a noble cause, but surely DN6 wouldn’t actually achieve this if what it’s really doing is causing widespread crop failure because all the pollinators have been wiped out. Anyway, Forester is going to get on with his dastardly scheme…but he’s going to take Farrow’s briefcase back into the lab first. Because of reasons. In the lab, Ian and Babs emerge from the briefcase, looking green around the gills; Babs says it was worse than the Big Dipper. Which just adds to my ongoing ‘Barbara and Ian go to a fairground and are reminded of all sorts of fucked-up stuff from their adventures with the Doctor’ head canon. Also, I choose to believe they once went to Blackpool on a school trip in an advisory capacity and it was basically like a Willy Russell film only with Carole Ann Ford instead of a kid called Carol. Also also, Ian’s lament—‘of course it had to happen to us­—of all the places to pick, we had to choose one that was movable’—is the story of their lives. Barbara reflects ruefully that she’s bashed her knee on a large piece of metal that turns out to have been a paperclip; Barbara’s sense of the absurd continues to be prevalent.

Anyway, because she’s done her ankle in, she’d like to find some water to bathe it in. Sigh. I should note at this point that I have cruckled my ankles several times and it’s absolute agony, but seriously they could’ve found another way to get these two into the briefcase and then to the sink. Why are women’s ankles always a plot device and why do men never go over on them? Outside, Forester and Smithers are moving the body. They take it past a drain, inside which the Doctor and Susan are lurking. Susan’s seen Forester take the briefcase, and the Doctor nearly falls down the drain when he goes over to investigate the drainpipe, which he pronounces smelly. In fact it has an awful chemical smell, which means it’s a special pipe and probably leads inside the house, and the Doctor intends to climb up it. It’s corroded so it’s got lots of handholds and footholds, and the chemical smell mean’s it’s germ-free. So no tetanus for the Gallifreyans, then, just maybe a few hideous chemical burns. Then a beautiful thing happens:

SUSAN: It's too far for you, Grandfather. DOCTOR: Well, if it is, I shall have to give up, and I'm not going to give up before I've tried. And remember, you must think of the other two. They must be constantly reminding themselves they're only one inch high. There's only the two of us to help them. SUSAN: All right. But you let me go first. DOCTOR: Yes, yes, yes, go on.

YES CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT! The Doctor is willing to scale a giant drainpipe full of chemicals to help his humans, despite his age and despite Susan’s protests, and is actually advocating thinking of others before thinking of oneself. I mean he doesn’t particularly care about the murder or the indiscriminate slaughter of small things all around him, but still, he now cares about literally twice as many people in the universe as he did at the beginning of the first series. Also he is actually displaying empathy here, which might be a first. Meanwhile, back on the workbench, Ian has failed to find ankle-bathing water, but that’s ok because Babs is fine now. Apart from the shocking bruise on her knee, that is. I wonder is Barbara in some way related to Arthur Dent? Anyway, Ian wishes there’s something he could do to help her, but is it just me or is it quite nice to see them worrying about something so normal as a bumped knee? They go off exploring. Back in the pipes, Susan is checking up on her Grandfather’s progress. Handholds and footholds or no handholds and footholds, it’s impressing that they are essentially scaling a crazy-high climbing wall without the aid of a safety harness. You go, Gallifreyans. Meanwhile, Ian is pointing out features of interest such as Enormous Test Tubes to a politely interested Barbara. Which only adds to my ongoing collection of ‘post-Doctor Babs and Ian go on holiday’ headcanons. They come across a large pile of grain which looks to me an awful lot like giant Sugar Puffs. Which, after having consulted the Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy Wikipedia, I can confirm is because Sugar Puffs are in fact puffed-up grains of wheat. Which is what this is. Also, did you know that Sugar Puffs (well, Quaker Oats) helped finance the 1966 film The Dalek Invasion of Earth 2150AD? And that posters for said breakfast cereal can be seen all over the film? And that Sugar Puffs held a giveaway competition in which the grand prize was a Dalek prop from the film? WIKIPEDIA, WIKIPEDIA, WE THANK THEE FOR THIS BOON. But seriously, this is some of the best googling I’ve ever done.

Anyway, Babs doesn’t have access to Wikipedia and is clearly not a fan of Sugar Puffs, because she asks Ian whether he reckons it’s corn or wheat; Ian says wheat, so it must be true. He then turns his back for a couple of seconds while Barbara is a FUCKING IDIOT and picks up one of the grains to confirm that yes, this is wheat. Have you forgotten all about the Doctor telling the gang not to eat or drink anything (and by extension handle food and drink) because of the indiscriminate deadly insecticide, Babs? Having put it down, she realises it’s covered in sticky stuff like toffee. Maybe she’s not being dumb and actually thinks she’s come across a pile of Sugar Puffs? Ian, however, is distracted by a book of litmus paper, and is so busy pretending to be a Shakespearean Emo mulling over how often he’s held such a piece of paper between his fingers that he doesn’t find it weird that Babs has asked for his handkerchief, nor notice that she is wiping her hands vigorously with it. Ian is also stupid this week. Having said that, it is rather poignant that Ian has found himself in his former work environment and that he is now using a book of litmus paper as a bench. The humans are bearing these insults to their reality that make it so utterly absurd rather well.

Anyway, Ian reckons that whatever is killing the insects has been sprayed onto the grain. Barbara, meanwhile, claims to have forgotten all about the Doctor’s warning about whatever killed the bugs being fatal to them, too. Because of course you’d forget something like that. Ian is so busy warning her not to touch stuff and pontificating about the distinctive aroma of the stuff that’s coating the wheat that he doesn’t notice how worried Barbara has suddenly become, how weird it is that she keeps scrubbing at her hands, OR THAT THE SMELL IS NOW ON HER AND THE HANDKERCHIEF. UGH this serial drives me crazy. AND SHE DOESN’T TELL HIM SHE’S GOT THE DEADLY STUFF ALL OVER HER HANDS. I mean fair enough, at first it’s because he’s prattling away and not listening to her attempts to interject, BUT THEN WHEN HE'S ACTUALLY LISTENING SHE DOESN’T CONVEY VERY IMPORTANT INFORMATION FOR NO REASON AT ALL. BARBARA, I KNOW HE’S A FUSSPOT WHO WORRIES ABOUT YOU EVEN WHEN YOU’VE JUST BASHED YOUR KNEE ON A PAPERCLIP, BUT THIS IS NO TIME TO BE SO FUCKING STOICAL. Babs is super downcast, but Ian doesn’t think this is so unusual and apparently takes this for perfectly normal despair. Even though Barbara is the kind of person who will tear a bed apart with her bare hands if there’s the slimmest chance it will help her crowbar her way out of prison. (In fairness, Babs never despairs when Susan’s around, but will occasionally get maudlin around Ian…but still, he should be more intuitive by now and know something is up.) He decides to cheer her up with blind optimism, suggesting all they need is a piece of string to get down to ground level. Then by heart breaks a bit, because Babs—automatically, it seems—corrects him, saying that at their size string is too thick, and what they need is a reel of cotton. And she catches herself. And suddenly the full ridiculousness of everything catches up with her. And she’s angry. And even though I’m pissed off that she’s being idiotic about this whole ‘probably dying but not going to tell anyone’ thing, I love that we get to see more of Barbara dealing with the absurd, because it’s consistent with the way she’s been going since The Aztecs and the way we saw her in The Reign of Terror. As I’ve said, being home (which they don’t mention at all) but the wrong size and having to scurry about like Borrowers is one insult too many to their sense of reality; they’re an inch high in their own world and it’s made home alien, and for Barbara at least this is the last fucking straw.

(It is at this point that I finally gain access to the DVD player for an evening, so expect gratuitous use of infotext from hereon in.) Ian, who hasn’t employed the Chesterton Neck Pinch for a while, decides that the time is ripe to grab the bestie by the shoulders and give her a good shake. Because this is what being on Earth again does to Ian. Le sigh. However, he must be given token emotional intelligence points for telling Babs to forget about how absurd it all is and concentrate on getting back. Which is pretty much where their characters had been going all last season. Barbara, Barbara, don’t let the crazy grind you down. Although in this case a large part of Barbara’s mopey turn is because she is worried that she’s going to drop dead like that bumblebee from last week. Anyway, Barbara rallies round, and Ian suggests they use the paperclips from the briefcase to make a ladder. Which, according to the infotext, ‘was Barbara’s idea until a late revision to the script’. THANK YOU, INFOTEXT, FOR THIS EVIDENCE OF BARBARA’S RESOURCEFULNESS BEING GIVEN AWAY TO IAN FOR REASONS. She suggests they also try to find out more about the death glaze (insecticide) in the briefcase, but is shot down by Ian who scoffs at her and says the other thing is much more important. AND INFOTEXT STRIKES AGAIN: ‘Ian wasn’t as dismissive of Barbara’s scripted suggestion that the briefcase would “tell us what they do here” either.’ SCRIPT REVISIONS, Y U MAKE IAN A DICKHEAD? Well, presumably for more dramatic tension, as Babs once again scrubs at her hands with Ian’s handkerchief like Lady Macbeth, but still, UGH. Back in ‘the pipe of black drapes’ (thank you, infotext), the Doctor is bloody knackered but persevering. Meanwhile, Ian is offscreen trying to figure out how to open the briefcase and refusing Barbara’s help. Because I swear to god the 1960s make Ian a bellend. He isn’t being particularly Sciency, but is just pushing the clasp; Babs suggest he tries right to left; ‘great minds think alike’, quoth Ian. BUT OH WHAT’S THIS? IT’S A GIANT FLY! MOVING AROUND LIKE THE ANIMATRONIC MARVEL IT IS JUST BEHIND BARBARA…WHO HASN’T SEEN IT! Ian opens the briefcase in manly triumph, but is somewhat deflated to discover that Babs is not sharing in his victory. That is because she is now staring at the giant fly with an expression on her face that is more resigned than terrified. As she backs away…SHE SWOONS! We have a swoon! Because this is what Barbara does in this serial. Mostly because she’s, Y’KNOW, DYING, but I don’t like how everyone’s meant to not notice she’s ill because ladies just swoon when they see giant flies. Especially ladies who have taken on Daleks and brains in jars and all manner of unsavoury characters without having had a fit of the vapours; it’s just what they do.

Enter Ian; the fly buzzes off, and he once again showcases his excellent fireman’s lift technique as he hoists Babs over his shoulder to…safety? I dunno, AWAY. Oh but here come Smithers and Forester. Smithers sasses Forester about being so dumb he’s not noticed the blood all over the patio, then assures him that he’s just in it For The Science. And he has Crazy Eyes just so we know how much he’s in it For The Science. AAAAAH and here comes possibly my favourite of the Giant Sets: THE SINK. With an actual plughole! Out of which the Doctor and Susan have clambered, and next to which the Doctor is currently lying flat on his back looking absolutely fucking knackered. Never before has a Doctor been so relatable when it comes to physical exertion. Soon, however, he’s giving Susan a lesson about echo chambers (the sink is acting like one) and admitting to not having a Scooby as to the whereabouts or indeed condition of the Space Baes.

And OH infotext, you have more gems for me: apparently, when Babs woke up from her swoon in the script, she struggled more against the Chesterton Shoulder Grab (applied with the superhuman reflexes of a man waiting for the Bae to regain consciousness) because she thought it was the fly savaging her—a thought conveyed through the following words: IS THIS THE GHASTLY EMBRACE? Oh Louis Marks. Calmed by Ian’s slightly less ghastly embrace, Babs establishes her ok-ness, while Ian tells her she gave him ‘the fright of his life’ when he saw her standing lying there. Which is to be expected, because he loves you yeahhhh yeahhh yeahhhh. (Sorry, I’ll stop making Beatles jokes.) Oh Ian, babes, I’m glad you’re telling her about your Feelings but right now she’s more concerned about the whereabouts of the fly. Which buzzed off when the humans scared it...ONTO THE PILE OF SEEDS, WHERE IT LANDED AND DIED INSTANTLY. RUH-ROH. Babs, understandably shitting herself, demands to see the dead fly; Ian once again mistakes Barbara being legit worried about dying (BUT NOT TELLING ANYONE) for Barbara just being morbid, and tries to get into the mood, relishing telling her how it must have died the moment it landed. I…I can’t even lambast Ian for being an insensitive dick here, because reading his OTT speculations as to the fly’s hideous demise as a response to Babs staring at the dead fly like he’s trying to indulge Babs in her increasingly Susan-like antics is just too funny. Though BOY does he get it wrong: Babs yells at him to stop it and turns away having mild hysterics. And Ian is just like ‘IAN DID BAD THING!?’, trotting over to her side like a concerned puppy. Pausing only to touch his hands with her insecticide-infected hands without consequence—in much the same way that the Doctor gets the smelly insecticide on him from that dead bee with no harm done (ARGH!)—Babs looks like she’s about to stop being a tit and tell him she’s dying, when… DAMMIT SUSAN! An amplified voice calls the humans’ names. Ian asks what Babs was about to tell him, and instead of telling him like a sensible person, Babs’s face lights up and she says it doesn’t matter because if they’ve found Susan it means they can get back to the ship. WHICH HELPS YOU HOW, BABS? I mean I’ve seen the end of this serial so I know getting back to the Tardis will indeed make everything ok, but do you at this point!?!? Ian punches her on the chin in delight, and off they pop in search of their Space Daughter.

Presenting: The Chesterton Chin Punch

Back in the sink, the Doctor is mansplaining acoustics to Susan the super-advanced space child who knows this baby science like the back of her hand. But hey, the Beeb has to inform its audience, so Susan has to be dumb again. Over the edge of the sink appear our two favourite teachers, and Susan is so excited to see them she has to hug her grandfather a bit. Babs and Ian marvel at their having managed to climb that drainpipe, and look cheery at the prospect of climbing down it, the loons. But first they have to climb down what is to them a thirty-foot plug chain down to the sink; Ian asks Babs whether she thinks she can make it; Babs cheerily reckons she can, and that it’ll be worth it just to Susan and the Doctor again. FAMILY. In your face, Chesterton. Who insists on going first. Outside, Smithers and Forester are clearing up the blood…which is now all over their hands so OH EM GEE THEY NEED TO USE THE SINK. And sure enough, the Doctor alerts the gang to the low rumbling of giant human voices. Babs and Ian scarper back up the chain, and the Gallifreyans jump back down the plughole. How tense! Smithers spots the dead fly and is enormously enthusiastic about the effects of DN6. Apparently he doesn’t now Farrow was trying to stop it because it worked too well. Back in the briefcase, the humans emerge and observe with some consternation that the tap is on…and OH MY GOODNESS SMITHERS HAS PULLED THE PLUG PUT AND SUSAN AND THE DOCTOR WILL BE DROWNED FOR SURE!

WILL THE GALLIFREYANS SURVIVE THIS ORDEAL BY WATER? WILL BARBARA STOP BEING A PRAT AND ACTUALLY TELL SOMEONE SHE'S DEFINITELY PROBABLY DYING AT SOME POINT? WILL IAN INVENT STILL MORE WEIRDLY COMBATIVE GESTURES OF AFFECTION/COMFORT TO MATCH THE CHESTERTON NECK PINCH, THE CHESTERTON SHOULDER RUB, AND THE CHESTERTON CHIN PUNCH? WILL THE GANG EVER GET BACK TO THEIR NORMAL SIZE, OR WILL THEY BE KNEE HIGH TO THUMBELINA FOR ALL ETERNITY? Summary (as applicable to this episode) Does it pass the Bechdel test? By a cat's whisker and only because I'm feeling generous. Is the gaze problematic? Nope. Is/are the woman companion(s) dressed 'for the Dads'? Nope. High necks and dungarees all round. Does a woman fall over/twist her ankle (whilst running from peril)? YUP (yup). Does a woman wander off alone for the sole dramatic purpose of getting into trouble so she can be rescued later? Nope. Though Barbara loitering behind for the sole dramatic purpose of getting into trouble so she can be a plot point later is a variant of the same. Is/are the woman companion(s) captured? Both Ian and Barbara are sort of captured when they're carried off in a briefcase. Does the Doctor/a man companion/any other man have to rescue the woman companion(s) from peril? Ian has to fireman's lift Babs...somewhere? Is a woman placed under threat of actual bodily harm? Yup. Babs is now dying. Does a woman have to deal with a sexual predator? Nope. Is/are the woman companion's/s' first/only reaction(s) to peril gratuitous screaming? No, but there is swooning. Does a woman faint at the sight of peril/horror or generally lose consciousness (discounting normal sleep)? Yes. Though a case could be made for Barbara's fainting fit as an early symptom of having been poisoned by insecticide. Does a woman companion go into hysterics over something reasonably minor? To Ian, Babs probably goes into hysterics over something relatively minor, but we know she's freaking out because she knows she's probably going to die. 

Is a woman 'spared' the ordeal of having to do/witness something unpleasant by a man who makes a decision on her behalf/keeps her deliberately ignorant? Nope, this week it's Babs not letting on. Which brings me to another new category... Does a woman suffer in silence (to further the plot)? AND HOW. Does a man automatically disbelieve or belittle something a woman (companion) says happened to her? Yes ish, as Ian refuses to believe that Susan and he have been shrunk. Does a man talk over a woman or talk about a woman as though she isn't there? Not enormously.

Does the woman companion have to be calmed/comforted by the Doctor/a man companion/a man? Yup.

Is a woman the first/only person to be (most gratuitously) menaced by the episode's antagonist(s)? Yup. Babs and the insecticide. Though the Doctor and Susan are menaced a fair amount by the whole plughole situation.

Is a man shamed into doing/not doing something because the alternative is a woman doing/not doing something? No. The Doctor is actually motivated by empathy in his climbing endeavours this week.

Does the woman companion come up with a plan? No. And as the infotext tells us, Babs's plan about paperclips is actually given to Ian in the revised script. BOO.

Does the woman companion do something stupid/banal/weird which inspires a man to be a Man with a Plan? Babs banging her knee on a paperclip gives Ian the paperclip ladder idea, though see above for how this was actually Barbara's idea originally.

Does a woman come up with a theory and is it ridiculed by the Doctor/a man? No.

Does a woman call the Doctor out on his bullshit? No need this week.

Does a woman get to be a badass? No. Well, Susan a bit, with the whole scaling-a-drainpipe thing, though so does the Doctor.

Is the young, strong, straight, white male lead the person most often in control of the situation? No.

Is there past/future/alien sexism? It's the present day, so N/A. 

Does a 'present'-day character call anybody out on past/future/alien sexism? N/A. Does an past/future/alien person have the hots for a woman companion and is it reciprocated? N/A.

Did a woman write/direct/produce this episode? No/No/Yes.

Verdict

More entertaining than last episode, but CHRIST ON A BIKE the humans are dumb this week. Barbara doesn't tell Ian she's probably dying PURELY to rack up the dramatic tension and (later) get Team Tardis invested in the whole insecticide plot, and Ian (who ought to know Babs better by now) fails to notice that a) she's not just being morbid this week and b) she's wandering around with his handkerchief that must surely have that distinctive smell of insecticide all over it (as must she). I do appreciate all the little moments the humans have had this week dealing with reality slapping them in the face (Babs catching herself talking about shinning down a workbench on a reel of cotton and almost losing it is one of my favourite moments this week), and I really appreciate this ongoing thread (no pun intended) of them having to deal with not only danger but also situations that are so ridiculous as to rob them of all human dignity. The sets are particularly gorgeous this week (LOVE THAT SINK SET), and I adore the Doctor's little pep talk to Susan in which he actually shows empathy towards his humans. Susan has a lot of gumption this week and is adorable when she's waving up from the sink, but I really don't appreciate it when the writers make her dumb so the Doctor can educate the kids at home. Next week, let's not have women being uncharacteristically stupid just to further the plot, ok? Ok. 

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[leighnetwork]

‘Oh, I do like to be beside the seaside'… of Blackpool.

Ever since I read about the elegant dances that took place in Blackpool Tower, I’ve wanted to go there. With its ornate ceiling and live music, the fresh sea air tinged with salt, the hustle and bustle of a seaside town in the height of its heyday of 1950’s Britain- and the fashions! I loved the descriptions of the frothy skirts that fluffed out as characters twirled, jumped and danced the night away. I’ve wanted to taste the air and hear the laughter of kids as the Irish sea tickles their feet for the first tine...

I’d imagined going up with cousins, but, of course, they grew too old for things like funfairs- preferring more exotic trips abroad. I’d envisioned a girly weekend with those friends who I’d known my whole life, who had stuck by me through moving across the country aged 11, had sent letters that kept me going when in hospital aged 12, who weren't ashamed to be seen out and about with me- a wheelchair user- as so many school friends were.

They stuck by me throughout the Leigh’s diagnosis, with only one drifting slightly. They supported Leigh Network with gusto! However, the test of friendship came when I lost my sight. In the blink of an eye, I lost what had, up to then, been a very good friend. I never thought she'd be the one to turn her back on 15+ years of friendship. But she was. Lol, it still niggles me that I never had a thank you text from her for the birthday gift I sent, nor a reply to my emails enquiring about how she was. Anyway, I hope she is well, and if she ever does want to nudge the door of friendship open, I will gladly welcome her back. I am, of course so, so grateful and thankful to those friends who have stuck by me as I face this new challenge of negotiating life blindly. I hope people see I am still the same funny, creative me I always was…

…Anyway! Wandered off on a tangent there, didn't I? Back to Blackpool!

When our Mito/ Leigh Network friends asked us to join them for dinner in Blackpool, how could we say no? When my mum and I began researching hotels in the area, we discovered a peculiarity on the internet.

A room is advertised at, say £45. But, when you phone up to check the access (we learned to do this as in the past, one B&B called itself ‘Accessible’ although it had 2 steps to get in!), when they hear the phrase 'accessible room', a £45 room becomes £70! I really do not know why businesses feel they can charge an extra £25, just because a person is V.I. and/ or a wheelchair user. Have they not heard of government cuts and the way the ill and disabled are being penalised for their health? We had no choice but to pay the additional charge for space to turn my wheelchair.

We arrived at the station on the hottest day of year: the sun was shining, and the temperature was rising, so we decided to stroll to The President Hotel.

The warm temperature dipped as we walked along the prom that stretched out across the Irish sea. Grey clouds tumbled across the sky turning the pristine blue sky dark, grey and foreboding as silvery clouds worked with charcoal ones to scrub the blue sky. As light rain speckles turned into pelting rain splodges, thunder growled angrily above us. We had found a shelter to huddle under, but as the rain got a bit lighter, we darted out to carry on our journey of finding the hotel. Racing along,  I glanced up and saw it - a crackle of white lightening.  'Can you go any faster, Faye?' my mum called over the  roaring thunder.

I picked up speed as the grey clouds cleared to white and the temperature rose again. What a beautiful storm.

The street access was very good, with dropped kerbs and beeping traffic lights aplenty. As I steered up the ramp of the hotel, an irony hit me - on the hottest day of the year, when London was bathing in 38 degrees, we were bathing in rain, being drenched in a storm, lol.

We checked in then squeezed into the small lift, but were glad for the lift, as so many places simply don't consider it. Our room was nice, despite being directly next to a staircase (with no signage to warn guests). The positives were: it had friendly staff, a turning space in both the room and bathroom and free WIFI. And the dining room overlooked the sea!

After relaxing with an audio book, we heard from our friends. They were on their way, so we headed out too. A warm breeze picked up, giving the  grey-blue-golden sky a dusty glow. We were about halfway to the pub we were meeting in, when I felt little pricks on my bare arms and legs . ‘It’s raining!' I called to mum, as the little needle-like pricks turned into big, fat raindrops. My mum hurried to put up the umbrella. In the distance, I heard thunder rumble deeply. But, just as quickly as it had started, the sun came out and a warm calm returned.

We have met with Dave and Christine at the last few Newcastle Mito Patient Days. They are a lovely couple. We have known Cheryl, Gary and their 28-year-old daughter since they came and attended  our Leigh Network meeting in Liverpool in 2014 and since then, our friendship has grown.

As we all caught up on each other’s news in the Weatherspoon’s seafront pub, or meals arrived. Alex's baby niece and young nephew provided us all with entertainment- bouncing and dancing round our table. Like a rocket, H zipped around and E had us all laughing with his boundless energy!

After finishing our meals, we strolled along to the funfair on the pier. The sun was out again now, and a warm breeze blew as we chatted on our way to the pier.

Shrieks of laughter and fear filled the air as fairground music sang. The colourful rides whooshed and bounced, swinging through the sea-salty, candyfloss sweetened air. Cheryl's husband took his thrill- seeking grandson on the rides, Dave, Cheryl, Alex, my mum and I cheering him on as he gleefully squealed, whilst the other kids cried to get off!

We slowly ambled back along the prom, our evening with friends coming to a close. As the temperature dropped slightly, we all hugged and said, ‘See you later’.

We picked up a portion of chips on our way back to the B&B and my Mum noticed the fairy lights along the prom that lit up, changing colour as night fell.

The following  day, we explored the famous Blackpool Tower. Although the lift lacked an audio announcer, the general access was good- though staff could do with being aware of invisible illnesses- and an audio-described tour would be appreciated.

We went up to the very top. Out of the window, I could just see an expanse of beautiful blue sky. It seemed endless yet confining and imposing. At the very bottom of the window, I could just make out a strip of golden-brown colour, which I assumed to be sand. The tower has a skywalk- it’s a floor made of see-through glass- to give you a new perspective on the sea-view. Below, it just looked grey and cloudy to my V.I. eyes.

We then headed down to the well-renowned and internationally recognised Blackpool Tower Ballroom, where the Strictly Come Dancing Special takes place.

The cosy, warm, darkly lit ballroom felt like we had stepped back in time, with its ornate, intricately tiled ceiling and the pink and orange sign that adorned the wall behind the dancefloor to remind us of where we were. On the dancefloor, the atmosphere intensified as a couple of professional dancers tangoed and rhumba’d their way around in time to the organ being played- live-  by the musician.

Whilst my mum watched and I listened, we were reminded of my Nan, who spent much of her youth and married life in dance halls.

When the professionals took a breather, audience members were invited onto the dancefloor. We were reminded of the past times and courtesy of my Nan’s generation, when an elderly gentleman asked my mum to dance the waltz. Unfortunately, due to my mum’s lack of dancing experience, she had to turn his kind offer down (she was also scared of standing on his toes).

After being unable to convince her, he walked off to ask another who did fulfil his dancing dream. We sipped the remainder of our drinks, watching/ listening to the scene. At the end, the organist thanked the dancers and audience, before, as if by magic, disappearing into the stage, as a pianist appeared. We enjoyed a few more performances then headed off to catch our train after popping to a few shops.

We really enjoyed our first trip to Blackpool and look forward to returning!

Since then, we at Leigh Network were delighted to hear Blackpool Tower took part in Global Mitochondrial Disease Awareness Week by glowing green for mito! Well done Blackpool Tower!

[torentialtribute]

The top 10 young players in the Premier League

The new Premier League campaign is almost all about us with the usual stubborn mix of anticipation and shyness that comes with it.

] During the 2018-19 season we saw people like Aaron Wan-Bissaka, Trent Alexander-Arnold and Declan Rice excel in breakthrough campaigns.

But which rising stars seize their chance in the next nine months? We look at 10 players aged 21 and younger in the hope of leaving their mark.

Mason Greenwood (Manchester United)

17, forward, English

The buzz and excitement in the Manchester United academy around Greenwood are these preseason broke open after he scored in their tour games against Leeds United and Inter Milan.

But those who are familiar with Old Trafford have long recognized the potential striker and there is a real hope that he will follow Marcus Rashford on coming out of the academy to become a regular first team .

Mason Greenwood, 17, celebrates scoring Man United & # 39; s pre-season winner against Inter

Greenwood scored 30 goals last season on three sides of the academy age group, enough to win the prestigious club Jimmy Murphy Youth Team Player of the Year award to win.

And suddenly, after a promising preseason and amid the Romelu Lukaku transfer situation, Greenwood could be involved in the United Premier League-opener against Chelsea on Sunday.

Manager Ole Gunnar Solskjaer was certainly full of praise: & # 39; He can play all three front positions, or opposite the front four, because he can play No 10, No 7, No 11 and No. 9 & # 39;

Joe Willock (Arsenal)

19, midfielder central, English

It was a very impressive preseason from the teen and Willock seems to be making his way into Unai Emery's thinking for the new campaign.

After the departure of Aaron Ramsey for Juventus, there could very well be room in the midfield of the Gunners and the 19-year-old looks this time for more than just cameos.

Last season, he played two games in the Europa League and scored against Vorskla Poltava, and scored twice in the win at Blackpool in the third round of the FA Cup

In the same way as striker Eddie Nketiah hopes Willock to increase playing time, especially in the Premier League.

Midfielder Joe Willock hopes to make a first breakthrough in Arsenal this season

Phil Foden (Manchester City)

19, midfielder central, English

Honestly, Phil Foden needs little introduction for most Premier League followers, but the next big hope of English football will really hope to kick this season.

Foden is perhaps the most technically gifted of a generation of young English players who have already experienced success at a youth level, but he remains far from a regular first team in Manchester City.

He only started three Premier League games for the champions of Pep Guardiola last season and had to settle for FA Cup and EFL Cup games, mainly against the lower league opposition.

Foden once again underlined his class in the summer by bidding the highlight of England & # 39; s European championship under 21 with his excellent individual goal against France.

Perhaps the plan is to wait until David Silva finishes his final season at Etihad and then unleashes the Mercurial Foden in the Premier League, but he needs a few more games this season to continue his development .

Phil Foden scores from the penalty spot when Man defeated Liverpool City in the Community Shield

Mason Mount (Chelsea)

20, attacking midfielder, English

With club legend Frank Lampard at the helm and in the midst of a transfer embargo there may finally be a chance for the many talented academics of Chelsea to shine. chance.

Mount is very much in the shape of Lampard, a technology-minded advanced midfielder with an eye not only for a killer pass but also for purpose.

With so many young people unable to reach the Stamford Bridge in recent years, it may be a positive sign of change that Mount got a new five-year deal shortly after Lampard's arrival.

Callum Hudson-Odoi and Tammy Abraham will be others hoping to win regular first-team football under Lampard.

Talented midfielder Mason hopes for his chance at Frank Lampard & # 39; s Chelsea

Rhian Brewster (Liverpool)

19, striker, English

After an 18-month nightmare recovering from severe knee and knee injuries Ankle injuries, it took a personal reassurance from Jurgen Klopp to keep Brewster in Anfield.

Klopp promised the 19-year-old that he would have a first team role during the upcoming campaign and had the opportunity to showcase his countless talents.

Although he never came on the field. Winning the Champions League medal was a forceful reminder that Brewster could do great things in his career in Liverpool.

Although he will stand behind Mohamed Salah, Sadio Mane and Roberto Firmino in the pecking order, there must be possibilities for Brewster if he remains injury free.

Rhian Brewster shows his appreciation for Liverpool fans in Indiana during the preseason

Oliver Skipp (Tottenham)

18, central midfielder, English

He never goes out when his club goes out and their transfer record breaks beats logging in

But there are enough Tottenham fans who think that 18-year-old Skipp is good enough to compete for a central midfield position alongside £ 65 million newcomer Tanguy Ndombele.

Skipp received a taste of life in the first team of Spurs with a handful of performances last season and a strong preseason suggests that he will definitely get more.

Manager Mauricio Pochettino has consistently given opportunities to young people and Skipp should benefit.

Tottenham midfielder Oliver Skipp hopes for more chances for the first team this season

Morgan Gibbs-White (Wolves)

19, midfielder central, English

Another member of the English team that was two years ago won the Under-17 World Cup and another who hope that 2019-2020 offers more opportunities to impress.

Gibbs-White started last five games in the Premier League in a very talented Wolves team and should stand in line because they are juggling the Europa League as well this season.

He came through the Wolves Academy and is a dynamic presence with excellent visibility to find the right pass. Gibbs-White can also play in a holding or an advanced midfield role.

Wolves finished seventh last season and this time they want to bring the established top six even closer.

Morgan Gibbs-White of Wolves is another hope to break this season

Ben Johnson (West Ham)

19, rear right, English

It was very much a fire baptism for Ben Johnson when he became his Prime Minister League -debut road to Manchester City last February

But the teenager came out with a lot of praise when he lost the man with Riyad Mahrez and the Hammers in the nick of time.

He played back left night, but his strongest position is actually right back after being converted from a winger.

After a strong preseason, there it is every chance that Manuel Pellegrini will use him more this season, as Johnson wants to become the newest breakout star of the West Ham academy.

West Ham & Ben Johnson in action during their pre-season friendly against Fulham

Max Aarons (Norwich City)

19, right back, English

Aarons was absolutely outstanding at Norwich & # 39; s championship winning campaign and became the EFL Young Player of the Season.

Now the 19-year-old, who recently signed a five-year contract on Carrow Road, has the opportunity to test himself in the top flight.

He fits perfectly into Daniel Farke's philosophy because he is naturally attack-oriented and is willing to bomb the right flank up and down for 90 minutes.

It will be interesting to see how Aarons performs in the Premier League, where Norwich will have to take a more conservative and defensive approach.

Max Aarons was exceptional because Norwich won promotion to the Premier League last season

Lloyd Kelly (Bournemouth)

20, left back, English

Like Aarons, Lloyd Kelly does not need an introduction for those following the championship, but is new to a Premier League audience.

He performed very well last season for left back for Bristol City, as they flirted with the playoffs and now have a top chance after Bournemouth has paid £ 13 million for his services.

The England-21 international favors play on the left side of the defense, but also play a role halfway through half during the preseason.

He offers Eddie Howe versatility, athleticism and well-developed crossings when he pushes forward.

Bournemouth paid £ 13 million to Lloyd Kelly from Bristol City to bring to the Premier League

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Bubble Eye Care

Bubble Eye care carry out thorough eye tests using the latest portable optical equipment. We will look for eye health conditions like glaucoma, macular degeneration, and cataracts. An optician can also detect underlying health conditions such as Diabetes and High blood pressure. You will be given as much time necessary, so we can give you the best possible care and advice. We will bring a variety of spectacles, from full rimmed to rimless, so everyone can find the perfect pair. We offer single vision lenses, bifocals, and different varifocal designs to suit your requirements.

[bubbleeyecareuk]

Bubble Eye Care

Bubble Eye care carry out thorough eye tests using the latest portable optical equipment. We will look for eye health conditions like glaucoma, macular degeneration, and cataracts. An optician can also detect underlying health conditions such as Diabetes and High blood pressure. You will be given as much time necessary, so we can give you the best possible care and advice. We will bring a variety of spectacles, from full rimmed to rimless, so everyone can find the perfect pair. We offer single vision lenses, bifocals, and different varifocal designs to suit your requirements.

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Bubble Eye Care

Bubble Eye care carry out thorough eye tests using the latest portable optical equipment. We will look for eye health conditions like glaucoma, macular degeneration, and cataracts. An optician can also detect underlying health conditions such as Diabetes and High blood pressure. You will be given as much time necessary, so we can give you the best possible care and advice. We will bring a variety of spectacles, from full rimmed to rimless, so everyone can find the perfect pair. We offer single vision lenses, bifocals, and different varifocal designs to suit your requirements.