#Premier League Odds

[sportychurch]

Odds On: Premier League Predictions 2023/24 Matchday 9 - Best Football Betting Tips & Picks

Premier League 2023/24 predictions and betting tips for Matchday 9 from Oddspedia. Subscribe to Oddspedia to never miss our … source

[notsoattractivearenti]

Goodbye, Summer (Christian Pulisic x Reader)

Song Inspo: Summer Love - One Direction (listening to the song while reading is highly recommended!)

WC: 2.7K

Warnings: cursing, angst

A/N: after a few months i finally finished this fic!!! this is my first christian angst it felt kinda strange to write one for him lol and just so y'all know i haven't been able to write angst with a happy ending so, be aware. and the start of the ‘summer love’ is a lot different than usual hopefully not too weird for your liking tho. also this wasn't proofread, sorry if this turns out to be shit. anw hope you guys enjoy and i’d love to hear your thoughts thru ask/reply/reblog 💗 apologies for any grammatical errors! feedbacks are highly appreciated 🤍

–

“Cause you were mine for the summer

Now we know it's nearly over

Feels like snow in September

But I always will remember”

—

Summer has come to an end. Well, technically summer hasn’t ended yet – but Christian had to move to Italy and this move wasn’t exactly planned but quite expected – so yeah, to me, summer is about to end. And the moment Christian hops on the plane, there goes my summer of love. It was fun while it lasted – though I wish it would never end.

Christian told me he was leaving just a few days prior. He had been back to the States two days after the end of the Premier League season and ever since we had been spending the summer together. I knew this was coming as we agreed we would only be together for the summer but I didn’t think it would be this hard.

—

I met him through a mutual friend last year when he was briefly in Florida to visit his family and friends for Christmas. I still had a boyfriend at the time – even though my relationship ended the very next day, it was already broken to begin with – so we became strictly friends and I had no intentions on dating him. Jokes on me, because I had caught feelings for him but I was so wounded by the heartbreak I wasn’t even aware of it. He did catch feelings too, though he thought I needed time to process the breakup so confessing his feelings wouldn’t be appropriate.

I didn’t want a serious relationship for a while – or so I thought – therefore I didn’t even think of dating since my last one. Christian and I would sometimes text each other, but it wasn’t a constant thing. We hadn’t really seen each other in person since because of the distance, but I watched every match he played and usually texted him to give my support before the match.

One night within the second week of May, he told me by text that he was going back to Florida for summer break and looking forward to spending the rest of the summer with me. I thought to myself: why would he spend his short break with me? I responded to him by asking why just me and not his friends and family, hoping he would say something funny and odd like he always does and instead he said something I didn’t see coming.

“Because I like you and I want to be with you.”

My heart stopped the second I saw that text. Christian… Likes me? My goodness, what an oblivious idiot I had been. I was deeply wounded by my past I didn’t see what was going on in front of me the whole time. I didn’t know what else to say and I accidentally left his text on read that night.

“Y/N? Are you okay?”

“Did I say something wrong?”

“I’ve freaked you out haven’t I? Fuck I’m sorry!!!” 

Oh shit. I woke up to those unread messages from Christian – I just remembered I hadn’t texted him back last night. I immediately tried to reply but as my thumbs touched the screen to type, no words came to mind. I honestly didn’t know how to react, if I tell him I’m not looking for a relationship would it hurt him?

“I…”

“Christian…”

“If you want a relationship, I don’t know if I’m the right person for you…”

I locked my phone screen right after I sent those messages. I hoped I wasn’t being too harsh to him, but being put in this position was so overwhelming and I didn’t know what else to say. I just… I wasn’t ready. And I couldn’t tell when I would be. Not to mention he lives thousands of miles away from me and I didn’t think I could handle the distance.

An hour later, I finally heard back from Christian.

“I get it and I respect that.”

“What if we just… Be together for the summer?”

“We don’t have to think about what’s gonna happen after. Just be in the moment… You and me.”

I gave that idea of his a thought – a not-so-long thought because I was assuming I didn’t have enough time. I’d admit, while I found it interesting, I couldn’t help but wonder: would it be worth it? Would someone get hurt at the end?

Before the day ended, I finally made up my mind.

“Okay. I’m in…”

“But just for the summer.”

“And only if nobody is gonna get hurt.”

—

When he arrived, I was the one who picked him up at the airport. We absolutely spent our summer together everyday – there wasn’t a day that went by without him by my side and vice versa. He invited me to spend some time with his family and friends on their boats, and I had him spending time with mine on either the beach or my family’s home.

We were well aware we only had each other for the summer, thus we made sure every moment counts no matter how little or big it might be. We knew once this summer ends it also marks the end of our time together and go back to live our own separate lives. I didn’t want to think about what will happen next – I just want to live in the moment.

The more I spend my time with him, the stronger my feelings grow. It’s been messing up my mind, but I couldn’t let it ruin my summer. This was the best summer I’ve ever had in a long time, and I would not take it for granted. The memories we were creating throughout will forever live on in my head.

—

In the middle of our “summer of love”, Christian came to an agreement with AC Milan, and by that his time in Chelsea had come to an end and he had to relocate to Italy. And the club wanted him to join them for preseason, meaning his summer break had to be cut off sooner than he planned.

When he broke the news, I was stunned – not that I wasn’t happy about his move to Milan, I just needed time to process it. I also wasn’t ready for our summer to be over, but the circumstances forced us to cut our time short. It was pretty saddening for us that we unfortunately had to burst our little bubble.

“So… That’s it for us then?” I carefully asked.

“Let’s just not talk about it.” He refused.

I didn’t want to cause a fight at the time, so I agreed to let it go.

The entire time, I felt like I had to walk on eggshells around him. But eventually I couldn’t do that forever. You can't escape the reality no matter how much you want to.

—

Christian was packing his bags as he had a flight to catch the next morning. Yes, I couldn’t emphasize enough that we know our whatever-you-called-ship is coming to an end. In every hello there is a goodbye, right? But why does this feel so hard?

We have tried really hard not to mention anything about the fact that our summer love will be over soon but it is an inevitable topic. There is no way we can escape the conversation, especially on our very last day together. And I have to be the one to bring this up because Christian clearly didn’t want to – he might be the one who suggested the idea, but he is the one who is more in denial.

“Chris, you know we both have to say something, don’t you?” I tried to start the conversation.

“Can we not? Please.” He whimpered.

“We have to.” I insisted.

He kept packing in silence, not wanting to talk about the painful reality. I was sitting on the corner of his bed while he was standing across from me, avoiding eye contact since I started talking. He was looking down all the time – organizing his belongings – and not once he took even a little glance at me. I looked closely at his face, paying attention to every little detail I could. His face was red, eyes were puffy and watery, lips were tight – it was obvious to me he was trying so hard not to cry.

“So are you just going to freeze me out the entire time or?” Still no answer from him. 

I went and sat a lot closer to him and he tried to look away.

“Stop it, please! At least just look at my fucking eyes if you don’t want to fucking speak!”

And suddenly I saw tears running down on his face. He couldn’t hold them back anymore – his heart was completely shattered and it was obvious he was nowhere near ready to face the harsh reality.

“Chris… Listen…”

“Why can’t you change your mind?”

He asked a question that got me startled.

“What is it about me and the time that we had that made you certain you still don’t want a relationship?” His voice was trembling.

It took me a while to even say one fucking word to him. I felt like the worst person on earth for breaking the sweetest man’s heart. And to be honest, I broke my own heart too – and I was really trying my hardest to conceal it from him.

“Chris, you were the one who said, and I quote, “just be together for the summer”! I was being so clear I didn’t want a relationship yet you still offered me that. There’s nothing wrong with you, it’s just… I’m not ready. And I don’t know when I will be again.” I desperately tried to explain myself to him but I seemed to upset him even more.

“Yeah, right.” He shook his head and smacked his lips. “Whatever you say.”

I sighed.

“Chris… Please, why won’t you believe me?” I asked him quietly.

“I don’t buy your bullshit anymore.” He replied coldly, while wiping his tears.

Now done packing, he grabbed the car keys and put most of his belongings in the trunk.

I still wanted to have more conversation – about us, specifically – but after he was done with his stuff, he refused.

“I’m tired and I have an early flight to catch tomorrow. I think I should just go to sleep right now.” He said as he walked into his room.

“Yeah, of course...” I responded.

I tried to softly grab his hand but he swung his arm further away from me.

“See you tomorrow, Chris. Goo-”

He slammed the door on my face before I got to tell him goodnight. At the moment, I thought to myself: oh no, he really hates me.

—

The next morning I drove Christian to the airport. He was going to Milan with his dad and he was meeting him at the airport. On the way there, we didn’t really talk much. There was so much silence – and somehow it made everything even more painful.

I couldn’t handle the tension any longer, so I tried to break the ice.

“Hey, thank you for spending the summer with me. It was the best I’ve ever had.”

He only nodded.

“Umm, I’m sorry this only lasted for a short while...”

He looked down, he sniffed and rubbed his nose and sighed. 

“Well, have fun in Milan! You needed a fresh start and you’re about to get one… Christian, I am proud of you.”

I tried to be supportive and not say anything that could be perceived as “something wrong” because I knew he was in a fragile state at the moment, though it seemed like he wasn’t going to respond the way I hoped he would. I was genuinely proud of him by the way – always have and always will.

He looked up but still avoiding eye contact, let out a slight smile and chuckled a little bit.

“Yeah, thanks.”

“And uh… Maybe you’d forget about me with all the girls you’re going to meet there...”

I immediately regretted what I just said. Shit. What the fuck did I just say?

He finally looked directly into my eyes – a look full of disbelief and disappointment. There was a moment of silence between us. This time, I was the one who couldn’t see him in the eyes.

“Chris, I’m so, so sorry I didn’t m-”

“How could you say that, Y/N?” He cut me off before I finished talking, by the tone of his voice I could tell he was mad at me.

I froze for a minute. I knew I had fucked up but I never thought it would be so much worse – at the moment I was really, really fucking shit up.

“Do you think my feelings for you aren't real enough so other girls can easily make it go away? Do you really think I can forget you just like that? Are you implying that what we had all summer will not stick in your memories?”

“Wha- no, Chris, that’s not what I mean!”

What a mess I had made... And before I knew it, tears started to fill my eyes.

“Well to me it sounded like that. I’m appalled to know you don’t see whatever we were as something real and meaningful. Maybe it was a mistake to even ask you to give us a chance in the first place.” He sounded like he was truly aching and filled with regrets.

I glanced at him for a bit and I saw him biting his lip and his face was already all red. I never wanted our goodbye to be this heartbreaking but well… In this situation it’s bound to happen, isn’t it? Because I didn’t want to escalate our situation any further, I decided to shut my mouth and stop talking altogether. I was aware that whatever I said might hurt him deeper. Fuck, why can’t things be easier?

—

After what felt like a very long ride, we finally got to the airport. We met Christian’s dad, Mark, at the front gate as I helped Christian with his belongings. Mark greeted me and gave me a hug.

“Hey, Y/N! Thanks for dropping Christian off, if only you could come with us to Italy!” Mark excitedly thanked me, not knowing what happened between Christian and I.

I shook my head and slightly laughed to cover my discomfort. Then I saw Christian looking at his watch, and whispered to his dad: “let’s go.”

I took it as my cue to leave, so I said my farewell to both of them.

“Well, have a safe flight, Mr. Pulisic.” I smiled and nodded at Mark. 

Then I turned to Christian. He was still visibly upset – I didn’t have the heart to say anything, really. I had caused him a lot of pain, and I was afraid to open my mouth. But at the moment I knew I had to, since I didn’t know if we would ever see each other again.

“You too, Chris. Good luck over there.” I softly tapped his arm.

I waved at them and was ready to walk away when I felt a hand touch my shoulder. I turned around and it was Christian. He pulled me in for a hug – a very, very tight hug, like he wouldn’t let me go. He rested his head on my shoulder and I rubbed his back the whole time. It was a long hug – probably the longest ever for both of us – and we could no longer keep our overflowing emotions inside anymore.

“I’m sorry…” I whimpered.

“I know.” He whispered.

He stroked my head and kissed me in the forehead. His lips stayed there for a while.

“Y/N, I have to go...”

It was the hardest thing to do but I pulled away from the hug. Before he went inside, he took my hands and looked me in the eyes.

“Y/N, you will always be my greatest summer love… I will never forget you.” He said under his breath.

And the moment he walked through the gate, that was the last time I saw him in person. What we had might be short, but I will forever be thankful Christian made my summer unforgettable.

—

“You were my summer love

You always will be my summer love”

–

taglist: @pulisicsgirl @neverinadream @swimmingismywholelife @chilwellspulisic @bracedes @lovelynikol16 @thoseboysinblue @lizzypotter14 @masonsrem @landoslover

[chosetherose]

This whole article is really something but the excerpt below stood out to me.

Their relationship has unequivocally enhanced his profile – and his podcast followers.

The show, named New Heights, which he does with his brother Jason, went from 1.5 million when it launched in 2022 to 11.2 million today. Indeed last week, they signed a deal with Amazon worth more than £80million.

Taylor has quickly immersed herself in the world of NFL, the American football league.

She took centre stage at the Superbowl in February and earlier this week, when the organisation released its promotional video for the forthcoming season, ­Taylor was the stand out star of the clip.

On Tuesday, in an interview with US chatshow The Rich Eisen Show, Travis told how Taylor ‘creates plays’ for him, meaning – rather astonishingly – she tells him where to run to once he catches the ball.

One sports expert tells me: ‘Imagine when David and Victoria Beckham were at the beginning of their relationship, she’s a Spice Girl and David is playing for ­Manchester United, and she’s in the Premier League promo video. And then let’s go back and imagine how one of David’s managers would feel if he came out talking about how Victoria was telling him how to do his free kicks, or take his penalties. They would be furious.

‘It is all very odd. It is so strange that they have let a singer be such a big part of the NFL. There has been a suggestion that the league are really happy that Taylor has made the game much more appealing to women.

[bitimdrake]

pssssst hey quick question on the dl - who is helena bartinelli??

i cannot answer anon questions on the dl, so answer on the up-high, which she deserves:

HUNTRESS

a.k.a. Helena Bertinelli, a.k.a. Gotham's coolest and most notable antihero, crossbow-wielder, and purple bat-associated vigilante.

Helena was born to an Italian mob family, but spent her childhood blissfully unaware of the family business--until her entire family was slaughtered in front of her when she was eight. She stayed with family overseas for the rest of her childhood, learning how to fight and protect herself.

She came back to Gotham for both vengeance and justice, and became one of Gotham's many vigilantes. Though her focus is on the mob, she'll step in to stop any crime.

She's also a schoolteacher! Good for her.

She is discerning in who she chooses to kill, but she does kill. As you can imagine, this put her at odds with Batman for a long time. Helena is pretty much the premiere example of Bruce trying to claim control over every vigilante in Gotham, no matter how little right he has. The argument on killing/ethics is valid, but his default was basically "do exactly what I say and fall in line under my command, or stop completely," which is why he's an asshole control freak and why I'm constantly mad about how she was treated 👍

She was an absolute mainstay of the Batfamily before Flashpoint (2011) and it is personally hurtful to me that people don't know her. (Like, to be frank? She had far more of a presence than Damian or (living) Jason in the post-crisis era.)

You could count on seeing her in any major Batfamily crossover, from Cataclysm to Battle for the Cowl.

She was central to the biggest Batfamily crossover ever, No Man's Land, where Gotham was locked off from the rest of the country and turned into a lawless wasteland. Bruce left to sulk for the first couple of months and in absence of any other vigilantes in the field (only Oracle having remained in the city), Helena donned the mantle of the Bat for herself to protect the city. And when Batman came back, in return for all she'd done, she got...yelled at, assigned impossible tasks and criticized for not achieving them, her costume stolen and given to someone else, lied to, abandoned in the face of impossible odds, and shot multiple times protecting kids. Absolute fucking hero, honestly.

She also was on the Justice League for a while, though admittedly I have barely touched that run. To my understanding, despite nominating her for the position, Bruce was also the one to revoke her membership there.

Fortunately! things improved!!

In the early/mid 2000s, Helena joined the Birds of Prey, Oracle's team, and found legit friendships and support there with teammates like Dinah Lance/Black Canary. She finally got more respect in the community, and had a much better time.

Additional relationships include:

A big sister/annoying little brother type thing with Tim, who may disapprove of her killing but simply likes making friends too much :)

A great relationship with Vic Sage/the Question

One single issue where she met Steph that presented SUCH interesting potential that I desperately wish had been followed up on

On and off romantic/sexual tension with Dick, depending on the writer, which culminated in a single hook up that apparently most people around here would rather pretend didn't happen, though I really don't think it's that bad

A complicated relationship with Barbara, partially due to clashing personalities and conflicting morals (with Babs being nearly as much of a control freak as Bruce), and partially due to a shared history with Dick because DC loves making women be catty

Surely others from her first solo or time on the JLA that I don't know well enough to list!

She's rad and determined and takes no shit but cares a lot, and I love her. We deserve more stories tying her teaching day job into her night work. We also deserve more stories with her in general.

If you would like additional Helena beyond just cruising my tag, I recommend:

Batman/Huntress: Cry for Blood - far more Huntress than Batman, this is a great 6-issue miniseries about Helena reckoning with her past, ft the Question.

Batman: No Man's Land - if you have the time for it, a big storyline but worth it.

Birds of Prey vol 1 (1999) - Helena starts to appear around issue #57 and becomes a central character from there.

[rosiesramblings]

My Mummy and My Simon

Fandom: Ted Lasso

W/C: 1.5k

A/N: Ok, I'm back with a fic, but fair warning it isn't a tickle fic. This has been rotting in my drafts for months and I just happened to be struck by the inspiration stick today. I hope you enjoy anyway!

“This is my Mummy and my Simon.”

It was how Jamie had introduced them for as long as he could remember. When he was a lad, he felt special when he said it - everybody and their Mummy had a Da, but Jamie was the only one with a Simon.

Jamie didn’t see them as often nowadays, with the distance between Richmond and Manchester, but he suspects that if he had anyone to introduce them to, that was still how he would do it.

He wasn’t sure why he was thinking about it, to be honest, while he stared at today’s post on his kitchen island. His housekeeper usually brings it in when she arrives and leaves it for Jamie to sort through. It’s rarely anything special - who uses the post anymore? - just the usual notices from the town and sometimes one of those circulars with coupons from the Tesco. Jamie wasn’t really sure why he felt so sick when he looked at it that day, until his brain processes what his eyes have already seen - the neatly typed James Tartt, Jr. across the front of one of the bills.

Jamie hated his full name with a passion - forever a reminder of the man who haunts his nightmares, the man who Jamie himself could become if he’s not careful. Jamie grimaced and turned away, forcing back the memories of what had happened when James overheard him telling someone that he lived with his Mummy and his Simon.

Simon was an odd duck, to be sure, but then again so was Jamie. He was a large man, still taller than grown-up Jamie, but he never made Jamie feel small or unsafe. Jamie was pretty sure it was impossible for Simon to make anyone feel that way, with his soft pastel jumpers and his obsession with that baking show and his job at the library. When it took Jamie so much longer than the other kids to learn to read, Simon never said a word about it, just gifted Jamie CD’s that Simon had recorded of himself reading Jamie’s favorite books for Jamie’s eighth birthday. He was pretty sure Simon didn’t know that after Jamie got his first Premiere League cheque, he had paid someone to put the recordings on his new phone. Jamie still listened to Simon’s voice read Percy Jackson and the Lightning Thief when he came down with a cold.

Jamie fixed himself a post-training smoothie and sighed. Roy was bringing Phoebe over for Jamie to babysit since Roy had a coaches meeting and Ruth was busy saving lives at the hospital. Jamie idly washed out his blender, thinking of Simon and Mummy and how he really should give them a call soon. He was so lost in thought he didn’t hear Roy and Phoebe let themselves in before they were in his kitchen and Roy said, “Why the fuck do you get that wanker’s post sent to your house?”

Jamie whirled around, hand on his racing heart, before he processed what Roy was saying. “What?”

“Hi Jamie!” Phoebe waved cheerfully before going right over to the coffee table where he had gotten out the coloring books he kept specifically for Phoebe Days.

“Why is your arse of a father getting his post here?” Roy restated, gesturing to the pile of mail on the counter. “Thought you said you didn’t talk to him anymore?”

“I don’t,” Jamie said, confused. “That’s my post.”

Roy did a double take. “You’re named after that piece of shit?”

“Yeah.”

“Why didn’t you change it?”

“I did change it.” Jamie said. “Don’t go by James, now, do I?”

“I meant legally,” Roy explained. “So you don’t have to be fucking James Tartt Jr. in the fucking public record.”

“You can do that?” Jamie asked, incredulous, just as Phoebe called, “That’s five pounds so far, Uncle Roy!”

“Put it on my tab,” Roy called back. “And yeah, you can do that, you muppet. Costs like fifty pounds and might take a couple of weeks for the paperwork to come back, but you can do it. I still badger Ruth sometimes to change her name back to Kent, but she doesn’t want the fucking publicity.”

“Huh,” Jamie said, a whole new world of possibilities opening up before him. Roy kissed Phoebe goodbye and left for his meeting, and Jamie and Phoebe spent the afternoon coloring and playing kickabout in the yard.

***

A few days later, Jamie found himself on some government website, since you can do everything on the internet these days. He carefully typed Jamie into the form where it asked for what he wanted his new first name to be, cause it would be super embarrassing to have a typo and then have to do the whole thing all over again. The next box asked if he wanted to change his middle name, and Jamie paused. He hadn’t thought about that.

Jamie thought of James. He thought of Mummy, and he thought of Simon, and found he didn’t really need to think about it at all.

***

Simon’s birthday rolled along, and Jamie made the usual arrangements to donate to the library in Simon’s name. He’d done it every year since he could scrounge up the money, mowing lawns of council estates after Under-10’s training and looking after neighborhood kids until he had enough for a ten or fifteen pound donation. It never failed to bring a tear or two to Simon’s eyes, even now that Jamie had more money than he knew what to do with and made monthly donations to Simon’s library anyway, not that Simon knew that.

Jamie packed a bag to go and visit Manchester for Simon’s birthday, and as he printed his receipt showing the library donation to give to Simon, his eyes lingered on the email he’d received from the Royal Courts of Justice, notifying him that his change of name had been processed successfully. Before he could talk himself out of it, Jamie printed that off too, carefully folded it up with the donation receipt, and placed it in a small gift bag patterned with cheerful yellow ducks. It was made for kids, but Jamie knew Simon would appreciate it.

The drive to Manchester wasn’t too long, especially once Jamie put on Simon’s narration of the second Percy Jackson book. He’d made it through a good fifteen chapters by the time he was pulling his flashy car into the old familiar row of council estates.

Georgie shrieked, as she always did, when she flung open the door to her ‘sexy little baby!’ and Jamie picked her up and swung her around. 

Simon’s familiar, “Oh, there they go!” sang in Jamie’s ears as he put Mummy down and turned to wish Simon a happy birthday. 

The three of them migrated to the kitchen, Simon having made an impressive array of Jamie-friendly desserts. Georgie and Jamie sang an off-key rendition of Happy Birthday, and Simon pretended to conduct them with his candy thermometer. Soon enough, Jamie was pushing his be-ducked gift bag onto the table in front of Simon.

“Now, what could this be?” Simon grinned as he snagged the donation receipt from among the tissue paper. He unfolded it and, to no one’s surprise, unsuccessfully blinked back tears. “Oh, Duckie, thank you so much!” he said, and launched into an explanation of the new kids learn-to-read program that the donation would fund for the next year.

Not expecting anything else, Simon placed the receipt back in the bag and reached for Georgie’s gift. “Actually, there’s one more thing in there,” Jamie said sheepishly.

“More!” Simon mouthed amazedly to himself as he went back to the yellow bag. Jamie watched with anticipation as Simon drew out the email and carefully unfolded it, squinting his eyes a bit as he began to read.

Jamie watched as a dumbfounded look came over his stepfather, and he opened his mouth to start to say he could always change it back, but before he could Simon looked up at Jamie and burst into tears. Georgie startled, and Jamie leapt up in alarm, not sure whether to run away or try and comfort him. Simon made the decision for him when he stood and threw his arms around Jamie, still sobbing noisily.

Jamie, bewildered, gingerly patted Simon on the back, before swallowing and asking, “It’s alright then?”

Simon just sobbed louder, clumsily running his fingers through Jamie’s hair as Georgie muttered, “What on earth?” and snatched the paper from her husband’s hand. Before long, she too was sobbing, though still quite a bit more composedly than Simon. There, clearly written on the page, were the words: Official Change of Name - Jamie Simon Tartt.

Eventually everyone calmed down enough for Simon to say that it was more than alright, that he loved Jamie so much, that he was so honored by Jamie’s choice, and that was enough to get Jamie and Georgie with the waterworks again, Simon himself following not long after. 

They sat on the sofa for the rest of the evening, watching old reruns of Simon’s baking show and eating too many of Simon’s desserts. Jamie sat between his Mummy and his Simon, who wouldn’t let go of his boy for anything, relishing in the evening spent with his family.

[astoundingbeyondbelief]

Kaiju Week in Review (February 25-March 2, 2024)

Brush of the God is finally out in the world, having premiered at the Osaka Asian Film Festival on March 2. Above is the most recent trailer, looking as impressive as ever. A more complete cast list is out too—Yumiko Shaku, Takumi Saitoh, Shiro Sano, and Shinji Higuchi are all in it. Haven't seen any reviews in English yet, but I suspect it's something special.

Lots of comic news this week, but I'm giving Godzilla: War for Humanity #4 its own section because it continues to be so stellar. In the penultimate issue, Godzilla finally comes face-to-face with Zoospora—with the odds now thoroughly stacked against him. Ends on a great cliffhanger, with emotional catharsis reached but a world-class kaiju still left to beat.

Every Monsterverse film has an obligatory graphic novel tie-in, and they've never felt more obligatory than Godzilla x Kong: The Hunted. Kong has the A-plot, taking on the Titan Hunter, a mech piloted by the owner of a construction company who (surprise!) lost his family in 2014. It's pretty amusing watching him get high on his own supply fighting second-rate Titans before an unarmed Kong dismantles him, but the character is just too generic. Godzilla's B-plot is just a protracted setup for the film. (I'm keeping my description vague because the identity of his Titan opponent hasn't been revealed in GxK's marketing yet.) I hope this is Brian Buccellato's last time writing Godzilla, as Fight or Flight and the first five issues of Justice League vs. Godzilla vs. Kong weren't much better, but I probably shouldn't be optimistic. Zid's art is unsurprisingly the highlight, though he's sharing space with Dario Formisani and Drew Johnson. Some stunningly bad scaling and weird-looking Godzillas on those pages. Note that the comic is only (officially) available to backers of the hardcover edition on Kickstarter right now; the paperback edition comes out on March 26, a few days before Godzilla x Kong: The New Empire.

Titanic Creations has released a cover for their Gorgo Legacy graphic novel (amusingly Approved by the Monster Code Authority). It's written by Mac McClintock and Patrick McEvoy, with the latter also illustrating, and will be 60 pages long. Releases summer 2024, with plans for two more.

Volume 7 of Kaiju Girl Caramelise also released last week, and while I was hoping to share my thoughts on it, none of my local libraries have stocked it yet. So here's a simple reminder that it exists.

Netflix's Ultraman: Rising now has a poster and a June 14 release date. S.H. FigureArts and Movie Monster Series figures for the film have also been revealed.

Gameplay videos for Godzilla x Kong: Titan Chasers are starting to show up on YouTube, courtesy of early-access invites going out. Reminds me of that Avengers Alliance game I played for all of a week. And a new month means new Godzilla Battle Line characters; this time it's GMK King Ghidorah and a Biollante variant. They're also overhauling All-Star Battle Mode later this month, letting you chose 50 units to deploy against the CPU (so less underleveled four-stars and other chaff ruining your runs).

[cheriladycl01]

POLL TIME!

With my Olympic Sport Series now about halfway through. It’s now time I move onto another! Since my last poll I’ve come up with some more ideas to add for my Grid Series! So here they are vote for which one you want to see next!

The Famous Career Series

- It's not hard to meet other famous people when you yourself have a status. Be it an actress, artist, musician, influencer, YouTuber, Model reader will be in the limelight, each coming with a different career for a different driver!

The Sporting Career Series

- Reader is an athlete in any other sport other than F1. They may be a team player in a sport, and play in the Women's English Premier league for the likes of Chelsea or Man U, or maybe she's an individual golfer and is friends with Lily He. Who knows what it will bring!

The Mundane Career Series

- Reader somehow despite all odds meets a driver even though they have an average joe job, ranging from a bartender to a chef, to a 9-5 office girlie, to a vet or a teacher or even a uni student doing their best to get a good degree.

Disney Princess Series

- in Au universes find your fave driver following the plot line of a love interest/ or an enemy to our Disney women, whether they are a princess, daughter of the village chief or looking to not grow up! You’ll fine it all here …

Special Interest Series:

- As a woman of ADHD, I’ve had my fair share of special interests … how do the drivers cater to their neurodivergent significant other and their special interests. (I get that some people could find this offence but to me, as someone who loves it when my friends or partners involve themselves in hyper fixation or special interests this would be a real comfort to write about)

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @lilypadlover @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @viennakarma @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @seomako @urdad-hot @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount @styl1shl1v

[dairy-farmer]

Damitim + Past Brutim (Bruce Whump)

Inspired by your previous asks, Tim always being devoted to Bruce always at his beck and call. Bruce is aware of Tim’s devotion but always leads him on but never commit for various reasons. Bruce wanting to test Tim’s devotion, publicly has flings and relationships as both Bruce and Batman while always looking at Tim’s reaction and reception. Tim never shows any emotion or reaction in front of Bruce but the everybody else sees Tim’s heartbreak starts to pity Tim for being in love with a man who would never give you what you want. It reaches the point of cruelty when Bruce marries Selena, but spent the entire ceremony staring at Tim especially during the exchanging of vows. Bruce loudly proclaims to the entire reception about having fun with adding a new member to the Wayne clan. Everyone tries their best not to look at Tim’s reaction, but everyone was sure that this was the breaking point. Tim does not break.

Cut to Bruce’s return from his honeymoon, ecstatic to his ducky again and wondering if depriving Tim of his presence would make his ducky insatiable. Only to find Tim and Damian curled up near the fire place with all of the Wayne pets surrounding them. Odd, Bruce had thought that the relationship between Tim and his son wasn’t improving, but he’s too blinded by Tim’s presence, he doesn’t give it another thought. Bruce tries to convince Tim to fool around again, but Tim is adamant to only fool around with Batman, not Bruce since he’s a married man. Bruce assumes that this is his Ducky’s payback for the marriage ceremony so he abides by Tim’s conditions. He will gladly put on the suit for Tim pussy any day.

Cut to a year later at a Justice League gala, Damian publicly professes his love and devotion for Tim and proposes to him. Everyone isn’t surprised by the announcement and congratulates the happy couple, except for Bruce who is speechless. His Ducky getting married?? He stares at Tim, who is radiant with the biggest smile on his face, and his bastard son’s arm around his Ducky’s waist. He doesn’t notice Selena standing up and calling everyone’s attention. She announces that she’s expecting, and everyone starts talking about how prosperous the Wayne family has been for the past year. Bruce doesn’t even give the announcement a second thought, he just stares at Tim who is looking at him with genuine joy in his face. This is not what meant to happen, this was just supposed to be a test for his Ducky. His ducky who was always at his beck and call.

Bruce desperately tries to get into contact with Tim, but he’s always so busy with the wedding planning so Bruce spirals. He desperately tries to convince Talia to talk to Damian into not marrying Tim for the betterment of the League, but she’s actually for their marriage to solidify Damian’s right to the throne. Bruce also actively starts neglecting Selena and their child by being so hyper focused on Tim. One day, when all the heroes are together, Tim announces that’s he’s retiring indefinitely and everyone starts questioning why would Red Robin who is on his way to becoming one the premier heroes is suddenly taking a break. Tim standing next to his towering fiancé announces that he’s pregnant. There is a roar of congratulations on the first ever batfam baby until there is a loud bang and objection from Batman. Bruce has lost it. Everyone was shocked since Batman was usually so collected and brooding. Batman removes his cowl and for once everyone could see the intensity of emotion in Bruce Wayne’s face, shouting at Tim about wasting his body for an unnecessary baggage, and how he was being selfish and the deaths of the people during his break will be on his hands. (Very reminiscent during Tim’s early robin years) Bruce stops when he finally notices the silence and the movement on his Ducky’s face. Tears were running down Tim’s face, this was it. Finally, a reaction from his Ducky. This is what Bruce wanted, right?

this is so angsty and sad😢😢😢!!!!!!!! BUT ALSO SO PERFECTLY DRAMATIC AND GOOD!!!!!!!!!! bruce 100% does not deserve to "get" or "win" back tim no matter how hard he tries or grovels or apologizes!!!! he treated tim the same way a little boy treats their toys and now he's angry that damian is playing with HIS toy!! he acted like nothing he did would have consequences, like tim getting married and having a baby with someone he loves was somehow a betrayal of HIM even though bruce was already married to selena and had shown that tim was his...mistress or 'side chick' at best. he doesn't respect tim and he most certainly doesn't respect selina because she was only ever a way to make tim 'jealous' and 'spice things up' for them.

when selina finds out of course she's pissed and takes off with HER kid. not that bruce notices or even cares because it was never about her. because bruce is too focused on desperatly trying to fix things with his ducky. he made his ducky cry- he made his ducky start to sob and damian that traitor had to be held back from punching his lights out for upsetting his soon to be wife. people are severely disappointed in bruce, especially his family, clark, and diana.

clark just sighs and shakes his head when he brings bruce out of the room he had his freakout in to calm down. he's blocking the door and not allowing bruce to go back inside. bruce ends up pacing like a tiger in a cage.

"we thought you'd grown out of this bruce....but it's time someone puts their foot down.... it is beyond cruel what you did to tim."

bruce is agitated and distressed and thinking of his ducky's red eyes and hot tears streaming down his cheeks as he cries from bruce's raised voice. bruce screaming at him hasn't made tim cry since he was robin. it must be the pregnancy hormones and the thought just makes bruce even more distressed because tim can't....he can't be carrying another man's child.

bruce is half listening to clark and grunts something about apologizing to the guests and tim. that's when clark grabs him by the shoulders and forces him to look at his frowning face.

"no! what you did just now is not what i'm talking about!" clark looks furious. like he could just shake bruce to death from how frustrated he was getting. "i'm talking about what you've been doing to tim for years!"

clark's voice seemed to echo for miles.

"the way you've toyed with him and made him promises you never had any intention to keep, the way you've strung him along while we all just stood by and watched and you know what? it. was. wrong. nobody should've ever let you get away with treating tim like that for as long as they did but we all stood by because....because you were our friend bruce! you were going through a hard time! and so what if you were a jackass to tim? but that thing you pulled with marrying selina and- and....showing off? that's cruel bruce."

disappointed doesn't even begin to describe how clark is looking at him. he looks at bruce like...like he's a stranger. clark shakes his head.

"if i were tim i don't think i'd ever forgive you."

the thought sends a chill down bruce's spine. clark runs a hand down his face, palm pressed so hard to his skin it's like he wants to wipe it off.

"for the love of god bruce just....just leave that boy alone, alright? you've put him through enough so just...leave him alone."

bruce can't. he can't. tim is...his...his..

tim is just his.

nobody seems to get that. for months bruce tries to reach tim.

bruce tries going to tim's apartment one day, certain the car he'd monitored the night before that arrived at the residence contained tim. instead he is greeted by jason who raises a brow at the flowers bruce has in hand.

"really? you're going to try and win tim back from his fiancee and the father of his child with daffodils?"

bruce flinches at the reminder of tim's pregnancy. if it were just another man then bruce could compete with that. he could beat that.

but a baby?....tim had always talked with bruce about wanting a baby, wanting to be a mama. bruce had promised him one day they'd have one. but...if bruce was honest he'd just said that because tim let him fuck him really hard afterward.

bruce wasn't one for babies. he barely had an interest in the child he had with selina. it was too loud, too messy, it took away too much of her time and bruce hadn't liked how big she'd gotten because it made it difficult to have sex. which bruce had wanted less of with her because tim...hadn't been there for him to get aroused to before joining selina in their bed.

but...if it was tim. if it was what tim wanted. bruce would give him a baby. if that's what he wanted.

every step of the way he's redirected, turned away, straight-up lied to. tim doesn't answer his calls, his texts, doesn't listen to his voicemails.

bruce is beginning to get desperate when there's a knock on his door.

it's damian. bruce would be angry if he wasn't so tired from checking under every stone in gotham for tim.

damian isn't smug like he normally is. he isn't taunting bruce, making fun of him, or proclaiming his victory.

he's staring at bruce the same way he would a bug.

dispassionate, unemotional, a little disgusted.

damian asks bruce how he's been doing but bruce is tight-lipped. he inquires about the health of his wife, selina, and the newborn child bruce hasn't even held and isn't sure he knows the name of.

bruce says nothing because selina ended up leaving with her child at some point after it was born and bruce was so consumed with his search he hadn't even noticed.

not until damian brought them up.

for some reason bruce doesn't feel any devastating loss at their absence. maybe because he's half certain the baby wasn't even his. selina had allowed his extramarital affairs and indulged in her own because she was hardly some poor pathetic wife that got cheated on.

and bruce was always careful when they had sex. the only person bruce ever came inside was tim because he was the only one who ever deserved it.

damian is talking, going on some long spiel about how bruce had taken everything for granted, how he never appreciated tim, his devotion and love. that bruce didn't deserve someone like tim because he would never stop testing tim to see if he'd leave him, he'd always try and test the limits until he broke tim down to an uncontrollable sobbing mess.

tim was never going to be enough for him.

but he was for damian. damian loved tim. would take care of him and protect him in all the ways bruce hadn't and refused to.

tim was in good hands. and bruce needed to back off and let damian give him the life he deserved.

bruce doesn't get a chance to say anything back or argue. damian turns his back on him and leaves as swiftly and quietly as he came, leaving bruce in his big empty house filled with nothing inside.

[roxannepolice]

This could be a seperate one shot to dismiss for being too long? But I really, really wanted the Master to do something... well, beneficial to others, not exactly selfless... so I ended up throwing in Cthulhu on Premiere League finals (bless John Simm and his love for Manchester United)

London's streets were oddly empty, even for the standards of Premier League's finals (Manchester United vs. Liverpool FC). The Tesco cashier hardly looking up from their phone while checking him out was a bit odd, but well. Maybe the match was really good, the Doctor thought, walking happily towards Temple-Nobles' house. It was good for humans to transfer their needs of competition and presitge on something as fundamentally harmless as sport, he supposed. Watching people turning everything into art was always a pleasure. Maybe the Doctor would even sit down in front of the telly for the last few minutes. He didn't really care much for football, but quality game was quality game. He wondered if Donna, Rose and Sylvia were watching, too, if it was that good. Shaun and the Master were watching anyway, that was sure.

Things between the Doctor and the Master were... good, these past few months since Donna's birthday. Him developing an interest for something as non-hostile as football was just the tip of the iceberg. The not talking treatment the Doctor was getting at first was definitely gone, the two of them became Rose's sculptures primary reviewers, and maybe they weren't holding hands while out shopping, but shopping together they did. And neither of them ever acknowledged it, but each time they needed to sleep, the other would surreptitiously crawl into the other's bed, only to continue not ackowledging it in the morning. On one memorable occasion, which involved Shaun heading out for a "boys and boys-presenting only" weekend trip, Donna crawled in between them, too, and woke up very much not eaten or otherwise injured.

So yes, things were good.

- So, what's the result? - the Doctor asked cheerfully no one in particular as he entered the house. No one, in particular or general, answered.

- That intense? - he spoke again, this time to Shaun, expected, and Rose and Sylvia, unexpected, glued to the TV screen. They all shushed him, without so much as a glance. The Doctor frowned and turned to the screen as well.

- And now, after the ad break, we return to what the Internet has already dubbed the Lovecraft Finals - the speaker stated from the BBC studio. The Doctor frowned even harder. - To remind all our respected viewers, during the Premier League final match between Manchester United and Liverpool FC, a giant antropomorphic octopus appeared on the pitch and ate one of assitant referees-

- What?!!! - the Doctor exclaimed, and was again shushed by Temple-Nobles.

- - leaving the referee Evelyn Bhait to try an get the situation under control.

The speaker and his studio was replaced by a video of a giant, if somewhat transluscent, antropomorphic octopus emerging in the middle of the football pitch, and picking up one of linesmen and shoving them into its tentacled mouth. A loud shriek was followed by a whole stadium of camera flashes. The creature then garbled out some noises that could only be described as "something between bubbles and a tsunami" and stretched its hands - and wings - to the sky.

- Why isn't anyone doing anything?!!!! - the Doctor exclaimed, getting Shaun and Rose to groan in irritation and move closer to the telly, but at least Sylvia was as outspoken as ever.

- They are doing something, you know! - the old woman chastised him. - Security even tried to evacuate the stadium, but no one in the audience would move until the match is over. Can't say I blame them, this looks like an obvious trick by Liverpool*, better to watch until the end. Also, the referee tried to show that thing a red card, except she can't until she knows its name... And of course, they need to find another assistant referee... And time for my Finish Line is in just seven minutes!

*At 67th minute, when the creature appeared, Liverpool was loosing 2:3.

- WHAT?! - the Doctor exclaimed even louder. This was usually the point where he would give some well-meaning in a long run criticism of human nature, but he had a strange feeling this had less to do with human nature than British culture.

- Breaking news! - the speaker announced - With UNIT technology, it was possible to translate what the AO - you get it, AO? - he winked - has said!

The screen was filled with unmoving spikes on top and a moving dot on the bottom.

- I am Cthulhu, the Great One - a robotic voice followed the dot - and I have been summoned by your excitement and frustration! I shall now feast upon them until I become whole again and end the reign of human on the planet that is rightfully mine and my bretheren's!

The speaker reappeared on the screen.

- With that terrific news, I now connect you to Jill, our pitch correspondent! - the screen got divided between the studio speaker and a live correspondent.

- Thank you, James! - the correspondent, Jill, stated - Yes, this is terrific news, indeed, as now referee Bhait can finally show Cthuhlu its due red card, and there she isssss, whistling at the creature with a red card!

The screen was now showing a dark skinned athletic woman jogging with a whistle in her mouth and a red card in her hand. A bar reading "Cthulhu" now appeared at the bottom, with a red square soon following.

- But what is that?!!!!! - Jill shouted. - The AO, great name, James, seems unbothered and is nowhere near leaving the pitch! In fact - AAAA! - it's picking up referee Bhait and bringing her close to its mouth!...

- WON'T ANYBODY DO ANYTHING?!!!! - the Doctor yelled and looked around for the TARDIS. She wasn't there in the garden. - Where's my TARDIS? - he followed with a note of panic in his voice. And then he realised something else. - Where's Donna?! WHERE'S THE MASTER?!!!!

Rose only shushed him again and pointed to the screen while placing a crisp in her mouth. A thrumming noise was barely audible.

- But the day's surprises are not over yet, James! What is that, a police box?! - Jill exclaimed as the TARDIS materialized on the pitch of London Stadium. The door flung open. - Another two unwarranted people enter the pitch! It's a... a redhead in a bathrobe! And mud mask! And a short, round faced man in Manchester colours and a hoodie! - Jill continued, while the Doctor wailed to no one's notice. - They are carrying megaphones! And the redhead has some kind of... remote control? Can't tell from here, play the sounds from the pitch, James!

The correspondent's too calm, all things considered, commentary was replaced first by the shouts of the audience, frantic whistling of the referee, and bubbling noises of Cthulhu, and then by a voice which could only belong to the Master.

- Hey, you there, squid face! Cooee! - the Time Lord (in Rose's handmade bunny slippers) was shouting through the megaphone, taking Cthulu's attention away from the terrified referee in its grasp. - Yes, down here, you giant waste of emotional energy! Listen here. I am the Master, and I. want. to. finish. watching. my. Premier League. finals!

- And I am Donna Noble! - Donna's voice yelled through the other megaphone. - And I don't give a damn about football, but my mom wants to watch her favourite quiz show and you're disrupting BBC's schedule!

The AO let out a series of bubbling noises.

- Yeah, yeah, I get it! Admire, if anything! But pick some other time! Winter Olympics, they're boring as *BEEP* - BBC's vulgarities muting mechanism was apparently working well.

Another series of bubbling noises.

- Oh yeah?! Well - the Master produced a corresponding series of bubbling noises, which was fortunate for all the audience, but unfortunate for the Doctor who did not cover his ears in time to avoid the TARDIS translating what the Time Lord said. Suffice to say, it involved Cthulhu's mother.

Cthulhu roared, and for a moment it lost all of its transluscence as it shoved towards Donna and the Master.

- Now, Donna! - the Master yelled and Donna directed the "remote control" towards the eldritch creature. In a moment, it shrunk until it was slightly smaller than the ball beside it. The stadium roared as the two humanoid figures embraced each other like football players after a goal. The Doctor let out a breath he didn't realise he was holding.

- Oh my Lord in heavens, did you see that, Jill?!!! - James yelled from the studio, which erupted in its own share of joyful roars.

- Yes, I did see that, James! Cthulhu has been turned into a pet squid! - Jill answered as, at the corner of the screen, Donna picked the creature up into a fishbowl. The Master was doing a triumphant jog around the pitch, ending in an equally triumphant fall on his knees, arms spread wide, while cameras were flashing. Jill and, apparently, the cameraperson, ran towards Donna before she could reach the TARDIS. - Ms? Hey, ms! - the correpondent shouted. - Could you tell us a bit about what just happened?

- What? Oh, yes - Donna placed the aquarium carefully on the grass and turned to the stabilized camera. - Is my hair alright? - she turned to the correpondent, apparently not caring for the dry greenish brown mud on her face.

- Yes, it looks great! But what just happened?!

- Well, the Ma- I mean my friend's friend Harry, was watching the match with my husband, Shaun - hello, dear! - she waved to the camera and Shaun waved back, laughing - were watching the match. I never cared much for football myself, but, boys will be boys as they say, but suddenly they both started yelling, that is yelling louder than usual, so I come into the living room, and there's this giant squid on the pitch, talking about how she's going to feast on people's emotions, but the Ma- Harry won't have it, Manchester was winning, thank you very much - Shaun is for Liverpool, by the way - and so he drags me to the TA- the disappearing police box over there, because he can't fly it, you see, the Do- my friend John biolocked it against him, and says "get us over there!" and see, my mom wanted to watch the Finish Line at the usual hour, so of course I agreed, won't let some stupid football match change her schedule! and he keeps talking about the stupid Sensorite ruining his fun and picks up the tissue compresor and two megaphones, and I'm like "but I know of Sensorites, they're very peaceful!" and he goes "and Time Lords are very not into football, yet here we are" - Donna's imitation of the Master would have to be kept hidden away from him for all eternity - and I say, "so Cthulhu, he's like a renegade Sensorite?" and he's like "she's like a renegade Sensorite, yes", so I go, "she?", and he says "yes, she, what, do you also think she was talking in only one modality?", and I say nothing, so he scoffs and goes "these things feed on emotions, so no wonder she got attracted to a Premier League final match, what with all the remote ways to watch it you now have, but she's still technically dead, so she first needs to suck in all that excitement to become corporal, so the plan is, we piss her off just enough for her to become tangible and blast her with the good old tissue compressor and voila, a pet eldrich squid! You handle the compressor, BUT DON'T BREAK IT, I know how to piss off Sensorites better than you", and I say "hang on, but doesn't that thing kill things?", and he goes "much as it would please me to put you in the moral dilemma of choosing between the whole of your species and an eldritch squid from another planet, ms Noble-", he's a right bastard, make no mistake, "- I'm afraid not. She's not exactly alive, waits dreaming or whatever, so my baby will only make her very, very small, but still as alive as the emotion goo can keep you alive. Then just put her in a teleempathy-proof fishbowl" - here he produced one - "and Rose will have a pokemon she won't even have to feed!", hello, Rose, you're getting a pet! - Donna picked up the aquarium with a rather angry but very much alive Cthlulhu, the Now-Not-Exactly-Great One, and Rose waved back, and whistled with her fingers.

The Doctor didn't even want to guess what his face was doing. Probably something similar to Jill's, but for different reasons.

- Uuuuhhhh, ok, right, thank you, ms Noble, that explains everything, but what is this?! - the correspondent turned to something she was more familiar with. - The referee is showing a yellow card to the Master! He took off his shirt, so it seems right, but he's not happy about it!

The screen was now showing a, indeed, shirtless Master arguing with the referee while she tried to calm him down. A bar at the bottom now read "Harold Ansox", followed by a yellow square. The Time Lord was very much not having it, but Donna ran over and tried to deescalate the situation, just like a fellow club member calming another down. The Master added some muted yells and obscene gestures, but allowed himself to be dragged to the TARDIS by Donna. By the end he was even making friendlier gestures at the audience. Once the two of them, along with Cthulhu the Pet Squid, were on board, the ship dematerialized.

- Well, that sure was exciting! - James was saying with somewhat unusual excitement in the BBC studio. - But what is that? Referee Bhait is ending the match!!! A rematch will be due soon, but for now the match is over! The members of both teams are exstatic! Hugging one another, club or no club! This, ladies, gentlemen, and variations thereof, is what football is about! Competition, but with respect and love! I think we should almost thank Cthulhu for reminding us of this! Take it over, Alex!

- Yes, a lovely picture - a disinterested voice droned. - We thank all the viewers of BBC for being with us on this fantastic occasion. But now, for some competition completely void of respect and love - The Finish Line! After the ad break, of course.

Sylvia clapped her hands in joy at the news her favourite quiz show would start on schedule, after all, while in the garden the TARDIS materialized. Donna was first to appear in the door, but was carefully carrying a fishbowl with a renegade Sensorite inside, so she got pushed aside by the Master.

- Oi, watch it! - she shouted, while Cthulhu clutched onto small rocks for last bits of her dignity.

- Oi, watch it yourself! - the Master shouted back and strolled quickly to the telly. - And what the fuck is that? - he asked at the sight of a man explaining why the tampons he uses are better than others.

- The ad break! - Sylvia informed cheerfully. - I really must thank you, I can't stand it when The Finish Line is off schedule! - the old woman turned to the screen and turned off her hearing aid, just in case.

The Doctor ran over to Donna once she put down Cthulhu, the Great One, and hugged her tight.

- Are you alright? - he asked while the Master was raging at the telly and threatening referee Bhait with being eaten for dinner.

- Yeah, yeah, I'm fine - she answered, and didn't even have the good sense to sound relieved. She pulled away from him and smiled brightly. - Guess you had a point, he makes a good show if nothing else.

The unnamed Time Lord in question stormed by them, still shouting that he's going back and eating that damn referee, can share with Cthulhu if she really wants, but so help him Rassilon, Manchester was winning, and Donna snorted.

- Better go after him, you know.

The Doctor swallowed, nodded, and followed the other Time Lord into the TARDIS.

- I don't give a fuck about your biolocks! - the Master was yelling at the console, still in the Manchester United hoodie and bunny slippers. - You are taking me back there or I'll turn you into a paradox machine again!

The TARDIS remained unmoved by the Master's threats while the Doctor closed the door and crossed the ramp towards the console at a steady but brisk pace. He grabbed the Master's arm firmly.

- Well, guess what- what, no I was just threatening her, you know I even can't do any of- that Master was cut off as the Doctor pressed him hard to his chest, burying his face in the other's shoulder. Centuries of pain, years of bliss, and now this. He never felt happier in his long, long life.

- I'm also not actually going to eat that stupid referee, just scare her a bit-

- I love you - the Doctor said, just loud enough to sound firm. The Master tried to jerk away.

- OK, that's too much, I will just bribe her if that's what you want-

- Stop it. I love you.

The Master went still. Unnaturally still. His arms were stiff along his body. The Doctor didn't care. He hugged him tighter.

- No, you don't.

- Yes, I do.

- Liar.

- Not now.

- Take it back - the Master almost wailed and succeeded in pushing himself away from the Doctor enough to look at his face. The other Time Lord allowed it, but still held him firm. There was something resembling fear in the Master's face.

- I won't. I never will - the Doctor cupped the Master's face gently, while his other hand remained steadfast on his waist.

- You're only saying this because I did something nice! - the younger - much, much younger - Time Lord squeeked.

- Yes, but no - the Doctor smiled, brushing his thumb again the salt-and-pepper goatee. - Yes, it is hard for me to say. But I mean always. I love you - he repeated, lowering his hand to now hold the back of the Master's head. There were tears in both of the Time Lords' eyes, but only one would ever admit to them. - I love you, truly and deeply. Now and always. Over whatever you've done or will do - the Doctor swallowed, as a flash of ruined Gallifrey appeared in his mind - I love you.

The Master swallowed.

- I'm not saying it back - he spat, his voice defiant despite the wetness.

- You don't have to.

- I hate you - the Master spat again, though it sounded like he meant the opposite. Or not the opposite. Just the negation. The same force in the other direction.

- I know - the Doctor murmured and gently pressed against the back of his best enemy's head.

The foreheads met first and they both gasped softly. Connecting in thoughts was one thing. They had to do it for exams with all sorts of people who had little interesting to share. Connecting in feelings, quite another.

Their lips touched in a stupid, romanticized remnant of mammal parents passing chewed food into their offsprings' mouths. The Master's hands became flexible enough to touch the Doctor's back, unsure at first, but then grabbing like onto a lifebuoy. The kiss oscilated between passionate and gentle, angry and loving, playful and dead serious, and neither of them wanted to end it.

The lighting in the console room became warmer. The jukebox turned on of its own accord.

I tried to find her cause I can't resist her I never knew just how much I missed her Sorrow, sorrow...

- Oooh, damn that stupid ship of yours!!! - the Master groaned, but didn't really pull away.

The Doctor only laughed, and again pressed his temple to the other Time Lord's. The Master did not pull away. Not for the life of him, this or any other.

[cosmicmordecai]

Facts about the current Dr. Fate

In 2015, a new incarnation known as Khalid Nassour debuted in his own short-lived solo series and he’s one of the neatest characters introduced in recent years. He’s also one of the few Arab-based (Egyptian) Muslim characters to occupy a significant role in the DC Universe as supposedly one of their premier magic superheroes.

It’s not always perfect but there’s a variety of cool things about him compared to other incarnation of Doctor Fates that makes him standout. And I want to highlight those things. The internet in various places gets the wrong idea about the character and this post aims to address it. So without further ado.

He’s a trained Dr. Fate

Don’t let DC’s insistence on his youthfulness deceive you: Khalid is actually one of the most trained Doctor Fates, right behind Kent Nelson. Now if you’re an avid reader, you’ll probably point out Inza, Kent V., & Hector seemed to be trained too. Within their stories, they’re treated as powerhouses themselves especially in crossovers.

Here’s the kicker: Khalid is a person of color. Inza, Kent V, & Hector are white characters.

Despite the fact that Hector was a novice himself, his first major storyline that debuted him as Dr. Fate has him butt heads with Mordru literally just being out of diapers and hold his own and later defeat. Even Nabu in a later JSA storyline taunted Mordru being beaten by a novice sorcerer.

Inza gets done dirty in canon after briefly being Dr. Fate but she was said to be more talented than Kent and got to use chaos magic of all magics and was pretty darn good with it. It later got substitute for being powered by life but nothing of her abilities changed.

Kent V. started out sucking so bad Enchantess in Reign in Hell was unimpressed but towards the end of 2011 right before New 52, he got to be hailed as Sorcerer Supreme 4 years after his debut. Compared that to Khalid, who been in publication since 2015 & is approaching his 9th year and he’s competing with Zatanna & Constantine roughly, hailed for his abilities a lot less.

While there’s a odd trend of PoC whom occupy traditionally white mantles having to “work” their way up and Khalid gets that a lot and some writers think his shtick is being “new”, it does give him the distinction that you’ll see an illusion of progress. You’ll read his solo and then his appearances in Justice League Dark and see there’s progress in his abilities becoming more advanced.

Towards the end of the Justice League Dark solo, Kent feels he’s taught Khalid all he can. With that, the only thing left for Khalid is to get practical experience as Dr. Fate.

His designation is backed by Allah

A major difference between him and any version of Doctor Fate is that this incarnation was chosen, in part, by Allah (The Presence within DC context) himself. This is reflected in his solo, where he gets direct guidance by both angels and the Egyptian gods. The series attempts to blend the elements together by suggesting that Allah created the Egyptian gods to as a kind of Djinn but the gods view themselves as something else and although the angels find them pretenders compared to Allah, they respect their divine station, agency, and perspective.

Given his Muslim roots, it makes sense for Khalid’s destiny to involve whom he worships. It also makes him incredibly unique in that the Lords of Order don’t directly control his designation and that he chooses to follow their direction of order because he believes in it. It gives the character agency other Dr. Fates tend to lack.

Talk about job security.

He is the rightful choice because he makes sense.

Sorry to the others but Khalid is the rightful bearer. With all the hiccups, his character not having the benefit of being an insta-master. He doesn’t get the shinny cool feats of taking down the biggest bad guy to supplant his role. He doesn’t get to be convenient “immune” to magic to make him tougher. Hell, the helm gets depowered because of Kent & it’s up to him to address that problem.

But it’s not about the power level or if Nabu is there. What makes Khalid worthy is that he IS a character. Look, he’s the only Dr. Fate you can follow that makes a lot of sense.

With Eric & Linda Strauss, you got an even creepier example of Shazam-ing things where the aged up child still has a mind of a 12 year old & ends up hooking up with his step-mother. I don’t care how the writer tried justifying it as them being reincarnated lovers. With Inza, it’s complicated since she died & comes back in a new young body and it’s tied to resurrection. She was the next closest good option though. I’ll have to do a post about her another time.Jared could have been interesting but too much of that character disassociated with the good things with the mantle. Hector is weird with his convoluted history, connections with Hawkman, and everyone confuses his tenure for Kent. And Kent V. is confusing with his name ahd the consequence of ‘revamping’ and ‘simplifying’ things but using the same names to circumvent doing honest character work to ensure Dr. Fate doesn’t need constant rebooting.

Compared to that, Khalid had a normal life for 22 years before become Dr. Fate. No resurrections, hooking up with pedos, random age-ups, or being stuck as a love interest with a brief tenure. And no being an edgy 90s character.

He is accomplished

As with any superhero, you’ll ask what kind of ways has xyz contributed to the DC Universe at large and Khalid himself has actually accomplished a few things under his belt to help make him a worthwhile Dr. Fate:

For the start of things, his debut storyline has him save the world. It’s pretty much a basic thing and happens in its own corner but starting your tenure as Dr. Fate fighting a death god out the bat does give him some credit.

He eventually becomes a member of the Justice League & Justice League Dark. He’s a good example of not every hero in their 20s is connected to the Titans or that the Justice League is conveniently separated with people in their 30s.

When Circe absorbed Hecate’s power to become a even more powerful sorceress, it was Khalid who convinced Nabu of all characters to help his team and cede all his power to him, granting him agency and the opportunity needed to defeat Circe by helping Wonder Woman and stopping the Injustice League Dark.

Within the world of magic, he is the Dr. Fate responsible for performing the Parliment of Life ritual to allow the elemental forces of nature to work in harmony once more instead of fighting for supremacy (despite Constantine’s character muddying the event to an extent).

That’s not half-bad for a PoC character who tends to be regulated to background work overtime in favor of whit(er) characters. He is still contributing nicely here and there. He’s doing more than Eric/Linda that’s for sure.

There’s still more

Yeah there’s more things but that’s when checking out the characters comes in. If you want to see more of the character and what makes him stand out, check out:

Doctor Fate Vol. 1-3 (2015 series). The Blood Price, Prisioners of the Past, and Fateful Threads.

Justice League Dark’s second series. Lords of Order. Witching Hour. Last Age of Magic. Great Wickedness.

Justice Society of America (2023). The New Golden Age.

These here are just major issues with the character involved if you want to get to know the character more. Be mindful anything above is my opinion and I am an avid supporter of diversity. I want comics to do their best to reflect people of all walks of life, to experiment and normalize non-white characters doing cool things.

And there you go: facts about the current version of Doctor Fate, ladies and gentlemen.

[brightlight-dazzlingeyes]

between the lines | chapter 05

rúben dias x original female character [+18]

synopsis: isabella is a sports journalist covering the premier league. she has sworn to never get involved with a football player. that is, until she meets a handsome portuguese defender. warnings: incorrect journalism references; timeline of events are not faithful to real life; i have never been to england; mutual pining; romantic comedy;  minors dni.

previous chapter | masterlist | next chapter

Chapter 05 - Like a last minute own goal

It’s Tuesday and I’m in a bar in Athens watching the penalty shootout between Panathinaikos and Olympique de Marseille. Sitting next to me there’s a man with an AEK jersey and two wearing the Olympiacos uniform.

Across the street, away from this curious scene, standing tall and shiny, there’s a hotel. The hotel I’ll be staying at for the next 30 hours or so. And so is the entirety of the Manchester City squad.

So for the time being, for the sake of my own sanity, I’ll be sitting here at this charming Greek bar sipping one of the few non-alcoholic beverages on the menu.

Eventually the color of the sky warns me it’s my cue to leave, a bright and vibrant orange. I already spent too much time and too much money on this bar. And I wasn’t even supposed to be in this country.

I’m only in Greece to cover for a colleague that allegedly got sick – internally the talk at the office is that he was caught cheating on his wife and had to bail work for a couple days, and somehow I’m the one being punished.

I already know the odds of running into him. They’re high, okay, they always seem to be pretty high. 

Still, I cross the street. I take my time doing it, too. Look at both sides multiple times. at the front of the hotel I even took a few pics of the previously mentioned beautiful orange sky.

And yet,

“It’s been a while…” My voice is soft, as I’m trying to be polite. I go as far as nodding when I enter the elevator at the exact time as he does. 

Of course the timing would be perfect. If I haven't taken the pictures. Or if I drank less. But I’m starting to believe it wouldn’t have mattered. If not today we were bound to meet again.

“I wonder whose fault is that.” He uses a humorous tone, even raises an eyebrow, smirking, but I can see right through him, he’s not joking. It is my fault. He’s wearing Manchester City’s travel hoodie and joggers, looking so out of place since he’s by himself. I decided against making a joke about that. Maybe another time. Something about asking him if he’s lost from the herd. Or something. Instead, I’m even funnier:

“I miss you too!” I answer with the same tone, maybe a notch higher, trying to actually tell a joke. I consider nudging him with my elbow, to get the bit going, but as soon as I say that the smirk fades off his face and he looks serious at me.

And then his face turns to the elevator door. I watch as he sighs. When our eyes meet again the soft smile is back on his face.

It’s my floor and as I walk out he says:

“Have a good night, Isa.”

I nod. There’s words stuck on my throat and it’s only when the elevator’s door closes again that I manage to say back:

“You too, Rúben.”

A week later, back in Manchester, laying in my own bed, I can’t sleep. I’m still thinking about that encounter, having been thinking about it everyday for the past week. I have to fix this, clear the air. We’re going to meet again and again.

So, against my better judgment, (and to be fair, so long after what I thought I could hold) I text him.

Me: you too

That's good, right? He’ll get it…

Do not text him, girl!!: que?

He texts back immediately. Wasn't expecting that but okay.

Me: hae a good night! have i forgot to say it last time we met

Do not text him, girl!!: isa are you drunk?

I hesitate. Man, that only happened one time! Is it better or worse if I tell him I’m drunk? I mean, I’m kind of sleepy. Maybe I should say yes and go all out ‘I miss kissing you, Rúben’ and shit like that.

No. No, that’s not what I texted him. I only look like I’m drunk texting because he makes me nervous, and the idea is to stop being nervous around him.

Me: what? no! i really just wanted to say have a good night so you know that we’re cool

Rúben: right

Me: we’ll be seeing a lot of each other, and i feel like we didn’t discuss this part the part that you know we’re cool

He takes a while to answer, I’m biting my nails staring directly at the bright white light of the phone. The memory of my brother telling me I’ll be single forever rings in my mind, to be fair he was 14 at the time I had just gotten my first bra. But it is true, and that’s why. I ruin it every time I try.

More minutes pass and he still doesn't answer. My mind goes somewhere else. The actual last conversations we had.

With me saying “I don’t think we can be friends.”, and he saying “Well, that’s not what I’m trying to be.”

“Okay, well, that's worse, Rúben. You get that, right?” I had my hands covering my face as I tried to find the right words. “I just got here, I can't be the reporter that sleeps with the football players.”

“But you…” He held himself back, but I heard it in my mind, ‘but you are’. “Don’t you think is too late for that? You’re really having second thoughts now?!” His hands replaced mine, holding my cheeks. He looked deep into my eyes, like he was trying to read my mind. 

I cried more that day than I’m proud to admit. I’m crying right now, still looking at the phone. I don’t expect us to go back to how we were, but I can’t deal with panicking every week just at the idea of seeing him. I can’t avoid him, I can't be with him. So I just want us to be cool, you know? I don’t know how to write a text saying that, though.

Rúben: right we’re cool

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@91vhs @kathb59

[sportychurch]

Odds On: Premier League Predictions 2023/24 Matchday 8 - Best Football Betting Tips & Picks

Premier League 2023/24 predictions and betting tips for Matchday 8 from Oddspedia. Subscribe to Oddspedia to never miss our … source

[protect-daniel-james]

One thing that I will truly always respect Unai for is that he never complains, never rants to the media about how boo hoo harsh the schedule is. After Pep's rant yesterday about how he doesn't know how his team survived because poor them had to play on Wednesday and then Saturday, and bringing up Manchester United to show how unfair the schedule is -

Yes, the schedule is fucked. But stop pretending you're the victim bald guy, you and your big expensive team of experienced players. I've yet to hear Unai speak about how his poor little meow meow of a team is overcoming all the odds that the big bad FA and Premier League put against them. Same with EtH hanging on to the "my players have been injured so you can't really expect any results this year".

[jamietarttsnorthernattitude]

agree with you 100% about ted not confronting jamie’s dad in the season 1 finale. narratively, it makes sense, because like you said: jamie is always going to end up in manchester alone after that night. and we see that ted is still thinking about jamie in the locker room speech when he mentions “…being alone and sad. ain’t no one in this room alone” or something like that. but the truth is that jamie is alone, and even though ted’s new to premier league football, he’s probably had his fair share of dealing with aggressive parents while coaching american college football. ted knows he’ll make it worse for jamie if he steps in, but still, they see each other. and maybe a small part of jamie wants ted to storm in there, but what are the chances this is the very first time someone’s witnessed jamie being abused? jamie’s face is so interesting during the scene, and it seems like he already knows ted won’t do anything. and he looks almost resigned to his fate. the crown and anchor speech was still a bit odd to me though. i don’t like how ted implies jamie’s tough dad made him a better player, but then again, ted’s own issues seem to always muddle his view of jamie.

sorry for rambling! the ted lasso brain rot won’t leave

Yes, exactly, Ted is definitely moved by what he witnessed. His speech and his note to Jamie with the Army guy show it. Which is why the next time we see them together it’s so baffling that Ted gives the “tough Dads” speech. We know Jamie’s Dad was abusive, and Ted, for whatever reason, can’t see that. (I’m sure Doctor Sharon would have a lot to say on the matter).

I don’t like how Ted implies it either. But, did you watch the David Beckham documentary? There’s a moment where he talks about all the hatred he received post World Cup and how he could handle it because of the way his father treated him. It immediately made me think of Jamie and the Man City match. He’s not bothered by the hatred, he’s bothered by not knowing where his Dad is. The fans aren’t saying anything that his own father hasn’t said to him.

Obviously, this doesn’t necessarily make him a better player but I think it contributes to the player he is. He’s a combination of talent, hard work, becoming a team player, etc etc etc. There’s so much that’s gone into making Jamie the player he is. And I don’t think it’s a coincidence he’s playing the best he has while he hasn’t spoken to his father.

Jamie’s face in the scene makes it even more heartbreaking. Because he’s not surprised. Not by his father’s outburst and not by Ted walking away.

I’m sure Jamie feels both ways. A small part of him would love Ted to storm in and stop his Dad, but like you said, even if it would make things worse eventually. And it’s probably not the first time someone has turned a blind eye to James Tartt’s treatment of his son.

Sorry for my rambling haha but never apologize to rambling to me! I’m deep in the brain rot too.

[cookies-sports]

England 2 - 1 South Africa

I found it tricky to get a good sense of how I wanted to word the performance on Tuesday. I don't know if it was because there were so many changes in the team that I expected there to be a lot of inconsistency (which is why changing so many of the starting 11 may not always be as useful as some people think), or whether it was just the lack of the team finding a solid rhythm... It was an odd one to watch.

South Africa were interesting to watch; I always enjoy watching international games where the opponent is a team who I haven't had the chance to see play often, either as a whole team or individual players. They have players in the SAFA Women's League, Liga MX Femenil, the Saudi Women's Premier League, the NWSL, and the Lithuanian A League, which aren't easy (or, in some cases possible at all) to watch in the UK. Some teams stream their matches to their own YouTube channels or Facebook pages, others have select games available for international viewing, some have no streaming at all from what I can tell.

When the camera panned around the stadium and you saw South African supporters out to cheer on the team, and then when you see clips from the end where the team go around to thank their fans, it is clear how important growing the visibility of all women's football globally is.

I know that England were the favourites for this game and there were low expectations for South Africa after the game against Denmark, where visa problems saw them missing multiple of their starting 11. However, the way some people talked about South Africa pre- and post-match really bothered me. I enjoyed watching them play, they have talented players, and I feel that for some the focus has been too much on what England didn't do and not what South Africa did do.

More below the cut.

Rather than go play-by-player, I've ended up with a few thoughts about some of them and left the others, then some additional thoughts outside of player-focused at the end.

Positive Game for Some Younger Players

For me, Clinton, Le Tissier, and Naz as some of the young players on the pitch had a good game and I definitely felt there was a lot more positive to say about them than critiques. Clinton has been widely praised; she was very strong, composed and mature in that midfield. She played roles in attack and defense and just seemed to work so hard. I would put her into the starting 11 conversation, and if not there yet then she should be getting 30, 40+ minutes in games.

Le Tissier was much more confident this time than the last game she started, getting an assist to Clinton's goal and having decent pace to get up and down that pitch. She showed good reading of the game for some long balls and her assist as well. She didn't do as well when she was moved over to the LB position to make way for Bronze, but still a reasonably decent 30 minutes out there. I would like to see her getting game-time as not just Bronze's back-up.

Naz often found herself surrounded by defenders as soon as she had the ball, but never seemed to be phased by it. She also passed in a very calm and well-timed assist in a busy eighteen-yard box for Williamson's goal. She did drift out onto the wings more than you might want for a striker, but that's likely due to her predominantly playing on the wing for Spurs, though she has played as a striker before. I liked seeing Naz and Hemp on the field at the same time during the Germany game and I would like to see how Hemp on the left wing and Naz on the right, with Russo or Beever-Jones in the striker position would go.

Earps Back in Goal this Game

Earps did fine in goal. There wasn't a lot for her to do, though when there was it was often with a dash of on-field chaos... She got momentarily squished under Clinton and Magaia, had to basically take out Morgan by claiming the ball from her feet in a slide, and came out for an important save when Bright made a defensive error shortly after coming on.

With the conceded goal, as I predicted would happen in the long post I wrote before, some fans of Hampton have already claimed she would have saved it, just like fans of Earps said she would have saved the goals Hampton conceded. The second Germany goal and the South African goal had some similarities in lead-up and execution. For Gwinn's goal, Hampton chose to stay back; for Kgatlana's goal, Earps chose to close down the angle. Hampton was criticised for not closing down the angle; Earps was criticised for being so far forward. Can't win, can they, goalkeepers? Maybe if each of them had chose to do the opposite, they would have saved them, maybe not. Who knows.

Anyway, I think it makes sense to put your experienced goalkeeper on the pitch when there are many younger, less experience players on the field.

Williamson...an odd game

I feel like Williamson's overall performance has been overshadowed by her first goal (for her fans) or her passing error leading to England conceding (for her detractors). She was better than she was against Germany, with some confident challenges and blocks, and pressing players back defensively more deliberately than the other game. Her pace, however, is still off and it was her mispass error that led to the goal, which seemed to shake her a bit.

Could be still coming back from her ACL, could be some mental component to it, could be struggling to refind form, could be so many things. Only time will tell, I guess. I think she wasn't as bad as her detractors claim, and she wasn't as good as her fans claim. What I think is clear, though, especially with the how Bright got outpaced when she came on as well is that the Bright-Williamson pairing shouldn't continue.

At times physical (and occasionally chaotic) game, Stanway did not stay out of the duels as Wiegman asked them to!

I actually think Stanway got more of a knock than first realised during one heavy collision; she was limping afterwards and seemed to make more mistakes. I thought she would get subbed out, but she played the full 90.

It was a physical and fast-paced game; which I think is an important learning experience, especially for young players. Football is a physical sport and you will get clattered, and you've got to learn to keep your head, keep your composure, and not let it rattle you. Some of them have experienced it at the domestic level, but experiencing it at international level can be very different. Good learning opportunity and I think the younger players coped quite well.

Not many yellow cards. That said, one could have been a red since it looked to be quite a reckless challenge on Russo that connected with her achilles, which I've seen players sent off for many times before.

South Africa making England's back-line panic!

Kgatlana is a brilliant player to watch, isn't she? She gave the England defenders so many problems and was just everywhere in the attack when they got into England's third. The players sat behind her in an attacking role, Magaia and the Cesane twins, also had their fair share of opportunities to drive forward and sow panic amongst the England players.

When South Africa got on the attack or the counter-attack (via some well-placed long balls for some of them from the defense and midfield) they looked promising. A bit more work on composure in finishing and they will have a strong counter-attacking threat.

Also, it's not easy to be a goalkeeper coming on halfway through a game, but Dlamini had a composed time in front of goal when she had to sub in for Swart at half-time.

Commentary on South Africa

Because all my social media feeds have women's football in the algorithm, and the England team specifically, I get a lot of stuff coming up from all kinds of people interested in women's sport. Sometimes, I see opinions that lead to me hitting the block button and wishing I could hit it a few times more. I really didn't like the tone of some after this game.

There was mockery of the South African players for going down after making or being on the receiving end of tackles, and of the South African medical team when they came on and off the pitch. Now there were a fair few collisions and heavy tackles; as I said, it was a physical game, and the South African players often came off worse than the England players, leading to their medical/physio staff having to come on the pitch.

Some of the comments, however, really felt like they were coming from a nasty, Anglo-centric perspective, and there were absolutely some that were just racist or xenophobic. The latter were predominantly on TikTok, which can be just as much of a cesspit as Twitter.

Related to that and some of the comments, I think some fans of women's football do not consider that there are many barriers and fewer resources for a lot of women's football teams around the world. While women footballers in England still face barriers, mistreatment and other issues that impact their equal access to the game, many of them (and especially those playing in the WSL) are in a much more privileged position than many players worldwide. There was a report released recently exploring this with players from a number of countries. Thinking about this and acknowledging it also doesn't mean downplaying the talent or the performances of players in those teams; it's simply understanding how much of impact different barriers have.

Commentary on Naz vs Beever-Jones

Now I understand that some people were frustrated that Beever-Jones did not get minutes this international window. What I don't understand is why, for some, Jess Naz is being dragged into this. Some people have claimed she doesn't deserve to start over Beever-Jones, that she's not a particularly good player, their various stats have been dragged into it from last season, some are claiming Naz is "over-hyped" (Where? From a quick search, she certainly doesn't have more articles about her than Beever-Jones, nor more social media commentary, so it can't be a direct comparison they're going for), and all kinds of other stuff.

Naz is a decent player and deserved her opportunity to start. I think she has shown positive play and promise every time she's come on for England. Naz being on the pitch does not prevent Beever-Jones being on the pitch; they can both play multiple positions. As I said above, you could try Naz on the wing and Beever-Jones central. If people are unhappy about Beever-Jones not playing, I understand directing criticism towards Wiegman or the tactics, but I don't understand why Naz has been dragged into this.

I've also seen a few people suggest Beever-Jones needs to start refusing England call-ups or be allowed to stay at club if she's always going to be left on the bench? She's been called up twice so far, both this year. May 2024 was her first senior call-up and we're in November 2024, with two international windows. I don't think any disappointment she may or may not be feeling is quite at the point yet of refusing to join the squad... If she keeps not getting minutes, sure, but it's a little dramatic right now. That said, men's football also has some of this kind of dramatic commentary, too, so presumably it's a fandom meets sports thing.

Anyway, I enjoyed the game. Didn't like some of the external commentary. Glad we got to watch South Africa play, and now I need to choose my fantasy WSL team before I forget... trying to figure out who took knocks on international duty.

[threewaywithdelusion]

Keeley and Jamie Meet

I've been writing so much Ted Lasso fan fiction, but seem to be totally incapable of focusing on one project at a time. So here's a JamieKeeley pre-canon fic I was working on today (feel free to brit-pick or critique, it's a rough draft)

The first time Keeley saw Jamie Tartt, she’d just come off a shoot with Shandy and Ellie and they’d gone to get drinks at a nice club to celebrate the end of the long workday. She was in her own club clothes — a single-strapped bodysuit paired with a pink miniskirt and strappy, tall hells — but her hair and makeup was all from the shoot, which had been eighties themed, and made her whole outfit look a bit odd. 

Shandy and Ellie were out on the dance floor but Keeley’s feet hurt from her shoes and she decided to sit at the bar, sip overpriced drinks, and people-watch. 

That was when she noticed Jamie. He was impossible to miss, in a loudly-patterned graffiti shirt unbuttoned far enough that Keeley could confirm he had a six-pack. He was at a table with a group of men, but he didn’t seem to be talking to any of them. He was scowling moodily and that should have been a red flag, but frankly it made his cheekbones look fucking fantastic. 

It took Keeley only a moment to realize the group of men was a football team and then she had to roll her eyes at herself. She didn’t even care about football, but somehow football players were always exactly her type. Maybe some evil witch had put a curse on Keeley where she could only date sexy, sexy football players for all eternity. It was probably one of those curses that looked like a nice spell at first. 

Keeley’s last boyfriend, Harry, had been a player for Brighton. They’d been together for six lovely months before Keeley had walked in on him fucking another girl and ended it on the spot. He’d blamed their long-distance relationship, never mind that Brighton was only an hour and a half away from London and he’d been in town almost every other weekend playing some London team.

After that, Keeley had decided she was done with football players. Maybe it was time to go back to girls. 

Keeley finished her drink, the straw making a sucking sound against the bottom of the glass. A quick look around showed Shandy and Ellie were still dancing and didn’t seem put off by the men dancing on them, so Keeley began scanning the menu. 

“Can I buy you a drink?” asked a man’s voice with a thick Mancunian accent. Keeley turned and saw it was the man from before, with the abs and the cheekbones, grinning cheekily at her. 

Up close and with the helpful hint from his accent, Keeley realized she recognized him. This was Jamie Tartt, the kid from Man City who Harry had complained about for a whole week last season. Keeley had watched the Brighton- Man City game like a dutiful girlfriend, so she had seen when Man City had put Jamie Tartt on the field with ten minutes left on the game. The pundits had called it mad because though Man City had been leading 4-1, the cup hadn’t been secure in their hands, with the fate of the Premier League trophy depending not only on the Man City-Brighton game, but the Liverpool-Wolverhampton game as well. It was madness to put substitute a starting line player for a young benchwarmer like Jamie Tartt. 

But Jamie had gotten the ball and run past Brighton’s defense — meaning Harry — and taken a shot on goal. The goalie had caught it, thank God, but Harry had been criticized in the papers after for letting a second team player like Jamie Tartt slip past him. 

Keeley had quickly gotten tired of hearing Harry complain about Jamie Tartt. Then Harry had gotten into bed with some random girl and his complaining hadn’t been her problem anymore. 

“You’re Jamie Tartt,” Keeley said. 

Jamie grinned smugly, tongue between his teeth. “I am. I saw you looking at me. Thought I’d come over and say hi.”

Keeley scoffed and shook her head. “What? So you hit on any girl who looks your way?”

“Only the fit ones,” Jamie said. “And there’s no one fitter than Keeley fucking Jones.”

Keeley’s eyebrows went up. She wasn’t sure Jamie’s exact age, but it was getting more and more rare for young footballers to recognize her. Harry had been 26, almost her own age, and had no bloody clue who she was when they’d first met. 

Right, Harry. Keeley was done with footballers, no matter how fit or flattering they may be. 

“You can buy me a drink,” she said. “But I’m not going home with you.”

Jamie pouted, his bottom lip actually sticking out. It was ridiculous. It was endearing. “Why not?”

“Because I don’t owe you anything for a drink,” Keeley said. She’d been in this position before, with far too many men who thought spending a few pounds on drinks meant they’d bought the right to take her home. 

“What about a dance?” Jamie asked. 

“No.”

“A chat, then?”

“No.”

“Come on,” he pleaded, pressing into her space with a smile. “You might like me.”

“Jamie,” Keeley said tightly, holding up a hand to stop him. “I said no.” She’d been right to establish boundaries right away, because it was clear he didn’t know how to respect them. 

Only Jamie surprised her. He stepped out of her space and flagged the bartender down. “One shot of vanilla vodka. And whatever the lady wants, yeah?”

“I’m not having sex with you,” Keeley reminded him. 

The bartender, a pretty blonde woman, gave Keeley a supportive thumbs-up. 

“It’s not a sex drink,” Jamie said. “It’s a sorry-for-being-a-dick drink, yeah? I didn’t mean to push. I thought we were playing, like.”

He seemed sincere, hands twisting in the bottom of his shirt, eyes wide on her like he was trying to read her expression. Maybe it was stupid of her, but Keeley believed him that he hadn’t meant to push her after she’d said no. 

She turned to the bartender. “What’s your most expensive drink?”

The bartender gave Keeley a wicked smile. “If you want a cocktail, it’s the Elderflower-Plum Highball. If you mean overall, we have some bottles of champagne that cost near 200 pounds.”

Keeley raised her eyebrows at Jamie. 

“Champagne, please,” he told the bartender. 

The bartender smiled and winked at Keeley. She really was pretty. Maybe Keeley should take her home instead. 

It only took a moment for the bartender to return with a bottle of champagne. She presented it to Keeley so she could read the label, then popped it carefully so the cork didn’t fly, the way they did at all the fancy places. Keeley had waitressed for a bit as a teenager, before her modeling career took off, and she knew that was harder than it looked. 

The bartender pulled out a champagne glass and filled it, setting it in front of Keeley.

Keeley sipped the champagne. It was cold and bubbly and sweet. Keeley probably wouldn’t have spent £200 on it, but it was very good. 

Beside her, Jamie did his shot of vanilla vodka with his eyes on her, looking pleased that she’d liked the champagne. 

“I’m going back to my mates,” he said. “It was nice to meet you, Keeley Jones.”

Keeley didn’t know whether or not it had been nice to meet Jamie, so she didn’t say anything at all. He nodded his head and walked away, back to the football team that hadn’t even seemed to notice his absence. 

The bartender leaned over the bar, smiling. “That was well clever of you.”

Keeley shrugged. “He was a dick. He deserved it.”

The bartender rolled her eyes, gesturing at the group of footballers. “They’re all dicks.”

“Yeah,” Keeley agreed. “Thanks for being my partner in crime.”

The woman’s eyes sparkled. “My pleasure.”

“I’m Keeley,” Keeley said. Introducing herself was a bit out of place in a casual conversation with a bartender, but Keeley had a feeling this wasn’t going to end here.

The bartender smiled. “Alice. You dead set on going home alone tonight?”

Ooh, yes, Keeley had been right. She leaned into the bar. “Not if a better option presents itself. Why, you got someone in mind?”

By the time Alice’s shift finished and she and Keeley fell into bed in Alice’s flat together, Jamie Tartt was the last thing on Keeley’s mind. 

***

Keeley didn’t want to admit it, but she was getting old. Not old for a real person of course, but old for a model. The shelf-life for a beautiful woman didn’t go much past 30 and Keeley felt that birthday looming closer every day. She’d turned 29 last month and had to force a smile while she pretended to eat cake that wasn’t on her diet plan. 

She wasn’t too old just yet — she still got gigs, including the modeling gig she’d just done earlier that day. But the offers had slowed down, companies turning to prettier, younger models to try to sell their merchandise with the promise of sex. 

It meant Keeley had let her manager go, and was now scheduling her own gigs. She actually quite liked that part — maybe in a few years when she was too old for all of this, she could help the pretty young thing who’d taken her place to fill her calendar with modeling gigs, club appearances, and commercials. But all that meant that Keeley was standing morosely at the bar, feeling just a little too old and a little too drunk, when the man from last week came up to her again. 

“Jamie Tartt,” she said. 

“Keeley Jones,” he said, in that cute Mancunian accent of his. 

“Are you stalking me?”

“No, I swear,” Jamie said, putting his hands up like he was protesting his innocence. “You’ve just got good taste in clubs, I guess.”

Keeley hummed. “Buy me a drink?”

She was pushing it, but he laughed and flagged down the bartender. He ordered a double shot of vanilla vodka and she ordered a jaegerbomb on his tab. 

“Is this still an apology?” she asked. 

Jamie’s eyes went wide. “Shit Keeley, are you trying to drink me out of house and home? How expensive is an apology?”

Keeley laughed. “It’s not like you can’t afford it, playing for the winners of the Premier Cup.”

The smile faded from Jamie’s face. “I’m not at City right now, actually. I’m on loan to fucking Richmond.”

He looked genuinely annoyed about it. 

“Sorry,” Keeley said. “Even my ex said Richmond aren’t great, and he plays for Brighton.”

Jamie brightened. “You know football.”

“A bit,” Keeley admitted. “I’ve dated a lot of footballers.”

Jamie frowned. “So it’s just me you’ve got a problem with?”

“No,” Keeley said. “I don’t have a problem with you. Buy me another drink?”

Jamie frowned, his head tipping to the side. “Aren’t you going to tell me you’re not going home with me?”

Keeley shrugged. “It’s a new week. I might.”

Jamie’s eyes went wide. He really was fit, with a narrow waist, abs she could see through his shirt (open down to his navel again), and a jawline that could cut glass. He wore his hair gelled up like a dick and Keeley had sworn off footballers after Harry, but he was young and talented and fit and he didn’t seem to care that they’d had to photoshop Keeley’s smile lines at the shoot today. 

He didn’t care that she was old. 

Jamie bought her another drink and Keeley gave him a smile and went off to dance with her friends. The music was loud and the lights were bright and on the dance floor, Keeley still felt young. She danced with a few men, dodged a few kisses and groping hands, then made her way to the loo. When she came out, she walked past a table of footballers. 

Jamie, with two others she didn’t recognize. She went up to Jamie again. “Buy me a drink?”

The two other boys whistled and Jamie got a cocky smile on his face but still shushed his friends. He bought Keeley another drink and she waved and him and went back to the dance floor. 

She danced for another hour before her feet started to hurt and the dance floor began to feel too hot. A quick glance showed Jamie was still sitting at a table with his friends, so Keeley went to the bar, ordered a drink, then made her way over. 

“Vanilla vodka for you,” she said, pressing the shot into Jamie’s hand and sliding into his lap at the same time. He sloshed the drink a little as he moved to catch her, one hand stiffly at her shoulder like he wasn’t sure she wanted to be touched but was even less sure she wanted to be dumped on the floor. 

Keeley leaned in to whisper in Jamie’s ear. “Take me home.”

Jamie pulled back, genuine surprise in his eyes. “Yeah?”

It made something warm in Keeley — something besides all the alcohol. He’d actually listened to her — he really hadn’t been buying her drinks just to get into her pants. Maybe that was a low bar, but fuck it, Keeley was drunk and she wanted to feel young and stupid for one more night. 

“Yeah,” Keeley said, biting her bottom lip and nodding. 

Jamie knocked the shot back and stood in a hurry, lifting Keeley to her feet with those fancy footballer muscles. 

“G’night lads,” he told the other two boys. Then he led Keeley out of the club.