#argument in the tournament parking lot. it's great what's going on anymore

[nerdforestgirl]

Note:  Ten years since Sheldon and Amy met for the first time?  How time flies when you’re having fun.  I am so thankful for this fandom and for the fact that so many of you are still here even now that Big Bang Theory has been off the air for over a year.  I hope you have a great and fluffy day!  Here is my story for this year’s Fluff Crawlspace.  It’s another Disneyland story because your girl misses the heck out of it.

Sheldon looked over at his wife where she stood in the kitchen making them dinner, and he felt like he never saw her anymore. Sure, they were basically in the same room at that moment, but they didn't spend nearly as much time together now that Amy was back in her lab instead of by his side while they worked on Super Asymmetry. He missed her. He walked over and wrapped his arms around her waist.

“Hey. I love that you are being affectionate, but I need to finish dinner. Can we cuddle later?” Amy asked. She needed to move freely and their tiny kitchenette was far too small to fit both of them easily.

Sheldon felt a little dejected. It felt odd. In order to feel any kind of disappointment or rejection, he would have to admit that he wanted the love and affection to begin with. He just wanted some of Amy's attention and time. They were both just too busy these days. He didn't love it. He wanted one day of just spending time with his wife. He pulled out his phone to text Amy's new assistant, Ezra. The budget opened enough for Amy to hire the young man after the Nobel win. Sheldon had only spoken to him a couple times, but he had his number all the same.

“Hello. This is Dr. Sheldon Cooper. I am Dr. Fowler's husband. Is there a day next week that she is free or could have her schedule rearranged for a surprise day off?” Sheldon asked Ezra. After what happened when Sheldon had Amy's lab assignment taken away to help with their work, he wanted to make sure he wouldn't get in trouble for messing up her work by just taking her out of work for a day.

“She only has one meeting on Wednesday that could be moved to Friday. Should I block off the rest of Wednesday for you, Dr. Cooper?” Ezra wrote back quickly.

“Yes. I will be taking Dr. Fowler out for the whole day. Keep this our secret.”

“Thank you,” Sheldon added after a moment when he remembered that he should be polite. He sighed when he received a smiley face emoji back, but he decided to not follow down that path. It wasn't worth his time.

Sheldon then bought Amy and himself two tickets to Disneyland for Wednesday. They hadn't been in a long time, and it seemed like just the kind of day that they could just enjoy each other's company and some fun.

On Wednesday morning, Sheldon shook Amy awake. He normally let her wake naturally, but they still needed to get to Orange County in morning rush hour.

“What?” Amy asked groggily.

Sheldon put a pair of Mickey Mouse ears on his wife and grinned at her.

“We're going to Disneyland! Come on. Get up,” he said.

“I can't. I have work today. I have a meeting,” Amy said as she rolled back over to try to steal a few more minutes of sleep.

“I had Ezra reschedule it. You are completely free today.”

“Sheldon, you can't just have my assistant reschedule my whole day because you want to go to Disneyland. You have work today too,” Amy said with a sigh. He always just thought about himself.

“But I miss you,” Sheldon admitted. He didn't mean to be that honest with her, but it was probably the best argument he could have made. Amy softened and nodded her head. If her schedule was already cleared, she could take one day off from work. It wouldn't kill her to spend one day at a theme park with Sheldon, and she had to admit that they hadn't been spending enough time together lately.

Amy got dressed in a Disney dress she bought on a whim with Bernadette and the kids. Halley and Michael were surprisingly convincing when they urged her on to buy the dress with Mickey Mouse on it. It wasn't appropriate for work, but it was appropriate for a day of ditching work. Then she put the ears that Sheldon gave her back on top of her head. She was ready to go.

Sheldon looked like Sheldon, but he also had on a blue Mickey Mouse shirt that Amy had never seen before. He looked completely adorable even if he didn't look a thing like a 40 year old Nobel Laureate. It didn't matter. That wasn't the role he was playing today anyway. Today he was playing cute husband ditching work with his cute wife.

“What was the first appearance Mickey Mouse?” Sheldon asked his wife as they played a Disney themed trivia game he made up during the drive to Anaheim. It was a long drive, so of course they had to play some games to pass the time.

“Steamboat Willie,” Amy said confidently. This was a pretty easy question.

“No. It was a silent short called Plane Crazy.  Steamboat Willie was the first short with sound and was distributed first, but Plane Crazy premiered in May of 1928 and was rereleased the next year with sound,” Sheldon told her. It was rare that he knew something she didn't, and unlike if it were anyone else, Sheldon wasn't a jerk when he told Amy this factoid. He just filled her in and asked another question about Beauty and the Beast. Luckily, this time she knew that The Beast was just The Beast in the film and had no other name.

They arrived at the park, and Amy was so glad she let Sheldon talk her into this. He took her hand with the biggest smile on his face. She realized that she missed him just as much as he missed her. They would need to find an excuse to work together again soon.

“What's first?” Amy asked.

“Let's try to get Rise fo the Resistance,” Sheldon said. He hadn't had a chance to ride the newest Star Wars themed ride yet, but he had also heard it was nearly impossible to get a seat on the ride with its soft opening. Still, they would try. They each pulled out their phones to try to get in the virtual line for the ride.

It turned out Amy was Sheldon's lucky charm because they had two seats on the ride that afternoon. In the meantime, there were lots of rides they could go on first.

“Space Mountain?” Sheldon suggested next. It was always a good one to do first because he had an empty stomach instead of one full of too many snacks.

Amy grinned and took Sheldon's hand while they walked to the ride. She was able to tell him about her new project at work while they walked and stood in line. Sheldon listened and asked questions about her work. She knew that he believed that she should quit neuroscience to work with him full time, but her heart and training weren't in physics. Not really.

At they made their way across the park to The Haunted Mansion, Sheldon thought about telling Amy about his own work. Then he decided to tell her about what his Meemaw was up to these days instead. Not everything was about work. Especially on a day when they were ditching it in order to recharge and spend a day together.

“Meemaw won a poker tournament? That's seriously impressive for a 92 year old woman,” Amy said. In the years since they first met, Amy's relationship with Sheldon's grandmother had improved considerably. Amy even kind of liked her now.

“Yes. So now my mother is escorting her to Las Vegas for a weekend for the finals of this tournament. Mom is hoping to cleanse Sin City of all its sin while she is there,” Sheldon told Amy.

“If anyone can do it, it's your mother,” Amy agreed.

Both Sheldon and Amy had their favorite rides, snacks and shows, and they took turns picking things to do. With maybe too much focus on Sheldon's preferences. However, the park wasn't too busy, so they made efficient uses of FastPasses and were able to ride nearly every ride they wanted. While they waited in lines they were able to just talk in a way that they both often felt too busy to do these days.

“I am so glad that you suggested this,” Amy said as she leaned into Sheldon's side while they waited for the fireworks at the end of the night. It was the last thing they were going to do before the drive back to Pasadena.

Sheldon put his arm around Amy and pulled her closer to him. It wasn't like Sheldon had felt like his marriage was in trouble before today, but this day filled some reserve in him that he didn't realize was close to empty. Sheldon just loved Amy so much. He needed her in his life in a way that he had never really needed anyone.

“Me too. We need to do things like this more often, but perhaps scheduled in a way as to not miss work,” he told her. Then he felt the urge to do something with his wife that he had never done before. He leaned down and placed a sweet, gentle kiss on her forehead.

Amy sighed happily and looked up just as the fireworks show began. A perfect end to a perfect day.

[savingpartoftheworld]

Saving Part of the World - Part One - Chapter Twelve

Summary: Set after G-Rev, the World Championships have come to Belfast, Northern Ireland in the hopes of spreading the interest and drawing in tourists. In between all the teen angst and the team drama, something powerful and hungry lurks on the horizon and with the help of the beybladers, it may just destroy part of the world.

Rated: T for cursing and mild violence

Ships: Hints of Mariah/Rei, Hilary/Tyson, Enrique/Julia

Previous Chapters: One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten Eleven

Chapter Twelve

“Hey, Hilary and Amber must have made up,” Tyson said to Max as the two of them sat in the arena watching the battle below them. The preliminary matches for the Singles weren’t gaining much of an audience, certainly not as much as Ming-Ming or the BBA had expected, so the two boys had decided to be the best cheer squad any new blader could need. Tyson believed that the most inspirational thing was knowing you had support and that you entertained people. “Oh? Hey, that was a nice dodge.” “He could go far,” Tyson agreed, before continuing with the pervious conversation. “They’re going to the park. At least she’s not dragging us with her, heh.” He grinned, swiping his thumb over his upper lip. It would be nice for Hilary to have a friend, especially since Mariah was still spending time with Rei – even if they were just helping Kenny improve his blade. “That Ukrainian is good,” Max mused, resting his hands on his knees as he leaned closer. “He’d definitely be on a team if the BBA had an office there.” But Boris gave the whole system such a devastating blow that many Bladers were going unnoticed unless they could move closer to a BBA registered office. However, this tournament was giving everyone a chance to get noticed and receive potential sponsorship. That was something that really inspired Tyson. He was even thinking of talking to Dickinson about being a Beyblade talent scout once he gave up blading for good, and recently that idea was becoming more and more appealing. Not that he didn’t love the sport, he just wanted a change of pace. A camera popped up to zoom in on them and both boys did their duty as world champs by smiling and waving to the audience at home – if there was one. As the camera glided off, Tyson turned his attention back to the dish, fixing the collar on his jacket emblazoned with the Bladebreaker insignia. “So are you planning to talk to Hilary about Kai?” Tyson’s lips thinned. He didn’t even need Max to expand on that question. What she and Kai did in the privacy of their rooms was their business, just as long as it didn’t impact the team. “Nope.”

“I really think you should. You do know there’s nothing going on between them, right? They’re just friends.” Tyson’s stomach flipped but he squashed down the quick swirl of hope. “Sure.”

They were friends. He and Hilary were friends, but she didn’t spend the night in his room, in fact, she barely spoke to him anymore, and when he did see her she acted awkward around him as if he was bothered her. Of course, she’d prefer Kai; all girls liked the guy who brooded.

He flinched at his malicious thoughts. Kai was his friend. Hilary was his… friend. He could accept them as a couple, just as long as he never had to see them be a couple. The blade shot out of the dish and almost wedged in the floor.  Tyson’s tension eased and he grinned at his friend. “Did you see that hit? Man, I love this sport. You just never know what’s going to happen next.” Max chuckled and patted his shoulder. “Too right, buddy.” “Hello,” Enrique greeted, taking a seat beside them. Both boys greeted the Italian who looked like he’d seen better days. Tyson passed him one of the energy drinks they’d picked up on route to the arena. “You look beat, is everything okay?” Enrique made a face. “We have a token match tomorrow and one of our three-man-team refuses to blade.” Refused to blade? What kind of participant did that? Tyson frowned and twisted in his seat. “The Irish guy?” Because he knew Julia would never refuse, she thrived on the sport and the adoration of the crowd. “Si, good old Eoin,” he pronounced it ‘Own’, “doesn’t want to blade, so he’s leaving it up to me and Julia and we need him because there’s no sign of our fourth teammate.” Tyson nodded. He’d heard about Europe’s team trouble, which was to be expected. Not one year had gone by where their preliminaries hadn’t caused chaos of some sort. There were the Dark Bladers during the year of the Majestics and then the Barthez Battalion year. But it had all come good in the end. “So tell him he has to play.” Tyson shrugged, exchanging a bewildered look with Max. Neither of them could imagine not wanting to play. In fact, they had more arguments about who would sit on the bench during a battle. “Exactly,” Max agreed. “Maybe he’s shy or doesn’t feel he fits in. You and Julia have met before, perhaps you just need to make him feel more included. Talk to him, get to know him.” Just like Max had done with Rick, Tyson thought with a smile. Goosebumps rose on his tanned arms as the aircon kicked up a notch and he rolled the sleeves of his jacket down. “I would. I am very sociable, but I can’t get in contact with him and he hasn’t met with us. He doesn’t show up for practice and if it wasn’t for the fact that he lives here and the local media constantly talks about him, I wouldn’t even know that he’s on the team. It’s got to the point where I’m tempted to tell Dickinson that we have to pull out. Julia and I can’t hold the team together by ourselves.” Tyson closed his mouth audibly. “Man, that does suck.” “We won’t do it.” Enrique sulked, dropping his chin to his arms, which he’d folded over the back of the chair in front of him, his messy blonde curls turning blue in the strobe lights flashing over them as new bladers were announced. “Why aren’t the others here?” Enrique muffled a yawn and sipped at the drink. “After the situation with Barthez and how none of the top dogs could see how he’d cheated or cared to hear about it, Robert felt he couldn’t in good faith take part again. It was something about ethics and betrayal. And Johnny said he’s studying for his degree so he couldn’t just up and leave for a tournament during the middle of his exams, but that’s probably half the reason. He wasn’t too happy about Barthez either. Meanwhile, Oliver’s opening another restaurant in the South of France and can’t leave it mid-project — which is a shame; out of everyone, I miss hanging with Oliver the most. So it was just left to me to represent the Majestics, though we were never really a conventional team.” “I was hoping to see those guys again, maybe get another turn at Robert, see how we stack up now.” Enrique smiled but then it flattened and died. “This is my last tournament before I’m forced to take over the Family Business and give up my ‘Lothario’ ways. This was my only excuse to justify leaving the country.” Max snorted in disbelief. “I can’t imagine being forced into doing anything.” “Does your family own a multi-billion Euro company?” Enrique shot back; then grimaced. “I apologise. Quite frankly, I don’t know why they want me involved. My father’s deathbed will be the desk he sits at. Sorry, that was unfair. You’re lucky, Max. Your dad seems great. My family is strict and business orientated. Kind of like Robert, but without the beyblading to release some of the stress.” Tyson flinched. That could not be easy to live with, especially for free spirited and flirtatious Enrique. He had probably tried so hard to gain his father’s respect but to no avail. Rubbing the back of his neck, Tyson frowned. “I can’t really understand your dad’s attitude. My dad spends a lot of his time digging in the dirt, so I rarely see him but when he does get in contact, he always encourages me to follow my dreams.” “Same with mine,” Max murmured. Enrique made a face. “So it’s just my dad then. Wonderful.” Max and Tyson looked at each other. “No, Kai would understand.” “Well his dad is dead and his grandfather is in jail,” Max hurried to explain, “but the whole taking over a company thing, he would get that.” Enrique jerked a shoulder then slumped. “Doesn’t matter. I don’t even get economics. It’s all foreign to me. This” – he gestured to the arena – “this I understand. And girls.” Tyson breathed in deeply. “Yeah, this I understand.”

For a country known for its rain, the sun could certainly reach hot temperatures. On the rooftop where Brooklyn had sought some privacy, the concrete burned, heat radiated off it in waves that distorted the view below. With his white shirt beginning to dampen with sweat, Brooklyn inched further into the diminishing shade offered by a low wall and stretched out his leg to ease a gathering cramp in his muscles. With a soft sigh, he turned his beyblade over in his hand and studied it. Without the bitchip — which burned in his shirt pocket — it looked naked, harmless. And wrong.   Pressing his lips together, he slipped his fingers between the fabrics and retrieved it. It was so innocuous, this piece of plastic that slotted so perfectly into the top of the beyblade but which contained so much power. Only the fierce depiction of the beast upon it lent any credence to the danger it could unleash. A flash of movement caught his attention and his teal eyes flicked to his silent companion, sitting crossed legged on the ledge overlooking the city of Belfast. If the height distracted Mystel, he didn’t show it. Brooklyn admired that. It made being with the younger boy soothing, easy. As Brooklyn flipped the bitchip over in his fingers, Mystel smiled faintly and turned his face to the sunlight. Brooklyn’s mouth tightened further. He didn’t want Mystel to fear him, but sometimes he wondered if his companion really understood what could happen. Brooklyn hadn’t dealt with the bitbeast since his battle with Tyson. That jaunt into madness had been more than terrifying and proved a greater deterrent than any words of warning ever could have.

Despite Tyson bashing through the madness, Brooklyn couldn’t help but fear another breakdown. It had come upon him so easily, how could it not happen again? On the surface, he told everyone that he was better; it was true, he now understood the value of friends and that he wasn’t alone. However, that didn’t mean he felt comfortable with his bitbeast. Zeus forced him to confront his inner demons. Zeus took the form of them. And now he was going to connect with his bitbeast once more. “Are you certain this will work?” Mystel hummed and popped open one eye. “Certain? No. Hopeful? Yes.” Brooklyn scowled. “That doesn’t make me feel good.” Mystel shrugged and pulled a knee to his chest. “The visions come from Zeus, right? And they’re stronger now you’re here in Ireland, but they’re not clearer. So perhaps connecting with Zeus himself and gaining some control over him will help with that. This is just practice, you won’t be in a battle Brooklyn and I’m right here to knock you out of a psychotic episode if you need it.” That wasn’t the most reassuring statement he’d ever heard. But it would do. Grimacing, Brooklyn snapped the bit chip into place and felt the pulse of power as his bitbeast began to awaken - no, he was always awake, now it was as if Zeus was stretching his limbs and getting ready to rise. There was a giddy eagerness rushing through the bond that clicked into place between them. It was like having a puppy bouncing at the door to the kennel. Brooklyn would have smiled if he wasn’t afraid the bitbeast would take complete control of him in an attempt to ‘save him’. “So I launch him, and then focus?” “Yes. It’s like basic practice for endurance. You just need to connect with Zeus again, exercise your bond with him, that psychic link we all forge with our bitbeasts in order to make our blades do what we want them to do in the dish. You need to listen to him so that he’ll learn to listen to you. He’s giving you visions for a reason; let’s find out what they are, especially if you want to save the girl.” Brooklyn ignored the last comment. He didn’t want to think about the girl just yet. “He’s not giving them,” he said. At least he hoped Zeus wasn’t because that suggested something that Brooklyn was too terrified to face. A sentient being that was constantly linked to him, beyblade or no beyblade. “He’s amplifying them.” His tone was forceful, refusing to be denied. Mystel rolled his shoulders and leaned his head back to bask in the sunshine. Brooklyn’s fingertips buzzed at the urge to pull his friend back. Not that he need worry, Mystel was so agile that he would land on his feet, even from the fifth storey. Getting to his feet, Brooklyn threaded the ragged chord through the basic launcher - another thing he hoped would remind Zeus that this was not an actual battle. Zeus’s pulse became more pronounced, greedy little growls escaped, the creature desperate to be released. Steadying his arm, even as beads of sweat rose on the nape of his neck, he concentrated on the spot he wanted to launch the blade and ripped the chord out, sending the black beyblade spinning to the ground. It landed, bounced and abruptly locked into position, swirling with an intensity that made it blur. The bitchip began to glow. “Suppress him,” Mystel ordered. Brooklyn nodded and pressed against the bitbeast’s desire to rise. He focused on the shining spot because his will alone would be the plug upon the well that was Zeus. The shining became more intense, splitting as it tried to rise, the aura flickering and spreading over the beyblade. It continued to spin until with a jerk, it veered and hit a stone. It wobbled, circled twice more before coming to a halt. Brooklyn sighed. “Like dealing with an irate child,” he murmured, picking up the now hot blade. The attack ring burned as if it had been out in the sun for hours, rather than a few seconds. “There’s no balance,” Mystel said. He rose to his feet with the grace of a panther, before dropping off the ledge onto the roof. Were it water, he wouldn’t have made a ripple. “And how do I gain balance?” “You wish to be master of Zeus, but Zeus wishes to be master of you. You never worked together; it was always a dominance issue.” “Mystel,” he growled. “Tell me how to do this.” He didn’t need the mumbo-jumbo. He needed the know-how. With a soft laugh, Mystel bent backwards and flipped over with a perfect stance. “Meditate.” “You’re kidding me.” “You and Zeus must become partners otherwise there’s no cohesion; no balance, no success.” “I don’t know how to meditate. I tried it before. I got bored.” Once he’d even fallen asleep. “You also nearly died by toothbrush. I’m guessing you really want to get this sorted.” Well, when Mystel was right, he was right. Death by toothbrush was so unfitting. Brooklyn looked at his beyblade. The sunlight caught the etching of the beast and created a refraction of light, almost as if Zeus were winking at him. Snorting, Brooklyn dropped back down to the ground. “So how do I do this?” “Lie down and close your eyes. You’ll need to clear your mind, try to sense Zeus; I’ll act as your guide.”

Some days, Mariam loved her job. Not every girl could spend the day, soaking up the sunshine under a cloudless, blue sky, while loitering on a windowsill high up on a towering building, watching boys work out in a gym across the street. It was a nice life, and she didn’t feel one bit sorry for her quarry. Poor Blitz-boys, they probably thought they were quite safe from prying eyes four storeys up from the ground, but Mariam was flexible; Mariam was very good at her job. After all, there had to be some minor perks to being a female in a male-dominated village and sport. Below her, a car jerked to a halt and blared a horn at a jay-walker who responded in kind with a desultory finger. She was pleased that the windows to the gym faced onto a rather quiet road, which meant her chances of being seen had lessened significantly. Really, gathering a crowd torn between wanting her to save herself and to see the drama of someone jumping had no appeal for her. She was just here to do a little spying on the Blitzkrieg Boys for Ozuma and if she happened to enjoy the sight of glistening muscles, then all the better.

The boys, almost men she supposed, had been working out for the past two hours. And since Kai had arrived, half an hour ago, a tension had settled over them, which intrigued her. Why would Kai play on a team that didn’t quite trust him when he could be back on his old team who adored him? That was a question she couldn’t find a satisfying answer to. Perhaps Kai was simply perverse. Sucking on her ice pop, Mariam draped an arm around her knee,and swung her other leg. She definitely had the easier gig. The B-boys were encamped for the day it seemed; all she had to do was sit with her treasure trove of sweets and other delights, and watch them sweat and flex.

That was no hardship at all.

Red was gorgeous, no doubt about it. A startlingly beautiful man with such vivid blue eyes, the kind she would find herself staring at if she saw him walking down the street, and had he the perfect personality, she’d probably lose her senses. Luckily for her, he didn’t. Kai was… well, Kai. He definitely had stoic and brooding down to an art, though his mood swings probably cost him more admirers than he actually gained. Then again, his voice could probably bring them back. She had to admit, he had a nice voice. Big Blond looked like he’d had a run-in with a bus and she wasn’t sure which came off worse. His nose had obviously been broken and was flattened out of shape, his mouth thin and wide above a square-cut jaw.  His straw coloured hair was shorn into a buzz cut that was held off his face with a headband. He wasn’t ugly, but in comparison to Red and Kai, well he wasn’t winning any beauty competitions. Then there was the pale one. He was striking. Not stunning, not conventionally handsome but… striking. She couldn’t even pinpoint what it was about him that stood out because by rights his features seemed average and yet he was attractive. Short, cropped, pale hair — not quite grey, not quite purple — pale skin, pale eyes. He was stocky and muscled, but not the tallest, not the shortest, just average. But she couldn’t seem to ignore him. And God, the man had arms to die for; even the t-shirt he wore had split the seams of his sleeves.   A drop of juice hit her bare leg and she scooped it up. Well, at least she wasn’t drooling quite yet, but why didn’t her village breed men like this? Ozuma was okay, but she knew too many of his bad habits and the one time they’d kissed had been disturbingly bland. Besides, she was fairly certain she could beat him in an arm wrestle. And Dunga… well yeah, that was never going to happen. Not even if she was blind drunk again. She needed to leave her village, she decided, crossing her legs at her ankles and swinging them gently. Her grandmother was making noises about her settling down and starting a family. The elders were muttering about her settling down and starting a family. Heck, even Ozuma and Dunga were doing it, though each for different reasons. And hadn’t that just put an awkward spin on the team dynamic. Dunga fancied her. Oh, the gods were laughing at her. She’d thought they’d genuinely had a dislike/hate relationship, but it turned out that that was his method of courting. How did he honestly think that his sexist comments would be a turn on for her? The whole episode had been alarming. Having a crush on Max once upon a time did not mean she was attracted to any blond within standing distance. So yes, leaving the village was her best option. Except, Mariam wasn’t sure on how to do that. She had planned to talk to Dickinson, but when Ozuma’s plan went into motion, she didn’t think the old man would be willing to help. What would she say: ‘Oh hey guys, your friends and the sport you loved is gone, but can I hang with you?’ Yeah, that was going to be a Big Fat No! Wow, now those were the kind of thighs she’d like to climb, Mariam mused, as Pale Boy squatted. They were as big as tree trunks and those arms would have no trouble holding her up. Why wasn’t he shirtless? Mariam! “Yes, oh almighty leader?” Popping a handful of jellied goodness into her mouth, she chewed slowly and wondered what it’d be like to sink her teeth into those muscles. What are the Russian team doing? “Uh…” Melting brain cells was not the answer that Ozuma wanted. “They’re just hanging around the gym.” Kai was literally hanging from a pole as he did chin-ups. Holy Spirits, she’d only ever seen that on TV during her missions. Damn sure Ozuma and Dunga never did that and they were ‘the strongest in the village’. Keep an eye on them. “Oh, I’m keeping two.” And hands off. Don’t let them catch you if you can. “Aw Zu-Zu, you ruin all my fun.” She wouldn’t mind getting her hands or her teeth on them. Particularly pale boys thighs. She bet she could leave a nice set of indents on his skin, the pallor of it would mark wonderfully. She sighed and sucked on the wooden stick. “So what is the plan? Divide and conquer?” Not at the moment, we need to see how dangerous everything is. Keep in contact. Resting her head back against the wall, she fanned her face. Gods, it was getting hot. When she looked back, she froze. Pale Boy was staring in her direction. A frown played over his face and he stepped forward to get a better look. Wonderful. Was he…? Oh yeah, he’d seen her. Time to go.

Mariam blew out a breath and grabbing her bag of sweets, she quickly tied it over her shoulder. Casting a look at him, she saluted and then threw herself off the building, catching a pole on the way down, she flipped herself around. Shifting her weight and anticipating the landing, she dropped to the ground with effortless grace. When she glanced back up, he was still standing there, a hand pressed against the glass. Grinning brightly, she blew him a kiss and trotted down an alleyway. He wouldn’t recognise her, but she couldn’t let Kai spot her, that would end all their fun and she wasn’t finished watching the B-Boys yet.

[torentialtribute]

The sadness of Gazza… a lost boy who seems beyond help

Paul Gascoigne was not present when the beautiful new site of Tottenham was officially opened on Wednesday night.

It was Gascoigne, not Tottenham, who announced his participation in a test-event match against the legends of Inter Milan at the weekend. The club would have liked him to be part of the brass band, but nothing could be guaranteed around Gascoigne

Paul Gascoigne got a huge ovation when he was in the legendary game Tottenham played huge ovation when I played for Tottenham in the legendary game

Paul Gascoigne got a huge ovation when I played in the legendary game Tottenham

He had to be part of the closing ceremony in White Hart Lane, but did not show and Tottenham did not want such a positive opportunity to be overshadowed by a new round of Where & # 39; s Gazza? If I made it, it would be a great surprise. If he didn't, nobody could tell what had happened.

He was always random but 51 years of addiction have taken their toll. The question of whether he will turn up, how he turns up, is now just as unpredictable. Unfortunately, he arrived injured on this occasion and could only play a role as a cameo. His old teammates liked to find him again, just like the fans, but the club?

Addicts struggling with recovery can be extremely demanding company. It is like the life and soul of the party. Those types are nice, but sometimes they relax a bit more when they have moved to the next show.

He will always be there in spirit at Tottenham's new house because the rooster is on top of the mighty end of Park Lane and bears his highly individual signature. It's a replica of the one on White Hart Lane, up to the dent Gascoigne threw in with an air rifle one day. The kind of joke that is hysterical if you're his teammate, less if you're the stadium manager who has to explain why the club's logo is missing his head.

Gazza was nowhere to be seen at the grand opening of the magnificent new stadium van Tottenham at the grand opening of the beautiful new Tottenham stadium

Gazza was nowhere to be seen at the festive opening of the beautiful new Tottenham stadium

There are so & # 39; n hundred stories and many are wonderful. No doubt Robbie Keane spoke a lot when he revealed that Gascoigne had left his legendary teammates on their way to the race in the bus. & # 39; A story about a pheasant, & # 39; Keane said, but he didn't want to reveal anymore. Firearms may also be involved this time. They often were. And ostriches. And stolen – or acquired, say – vehicles.

There is a chapter devoted to him in Danny Baker's second autobiography, Going Off Alarming, which describes the journey from Shepherd & # 39; s Bush to Park Lane. Gascoigne is trapped in traffic and leaves the taxi and convinces the driver of a double decker, complete with cheering passengers, to let him take over the wheel.

He then leaves the bus to come into contact with construction workers who allow him to use his pneumatic drill to dig up the road and he leaves the drill the rest of the way to the Rolling driver -Royce from stranger.

& # 39; When I have told this story to friends, I wonder internally if it has, like most human stories, been polished and embellished over the years & # 39 ;, Baker writes. & # 39; But it is not. Paul Gascoigne really drove in broad daylight to the London bus full of people around Marble Arch. & # 39; It was more than 20 years ago and what has unfolded since it was more an accident than joy.

After being addicted for 51 years, the legendary player does not seem to help "

Legendary player does not seem to help"

When Gascoigne shows up the soccer player again in a conventional environment, he asked him why the game could no longer do for him. The duty of care rested with his former clubs – Tottenham, Newcastle, Rangers – and the Football Association.

Gascoigne's behavior has become more alienating. The clubs are in an impossible bond.

It was lovingly thought of his indulgence of children and brilliance with one. the ball can find expression in an academy or community program, but protecting problems leaves room for maneuver. This is a man who is segmented under the Mental Health Act and is currently being tried for assault.

Similarly, the hospitality lounges are suitable for a person who cannot be in the vicinity of drinks, in particular the strange relationship of society with the celebrity means that there are people who accompany him to the bar alone, despite what they know.

Dimitar Berbatov and David Ginola belonged to the Tottenham legends on Sunday, Javier Zanetti played for Inter Milan, Jurgen Klinsmann switched between the two sides, Jose Mourinho stood on the sidelines.

But Gascoigne & # 39; s short appearance was, by common agreement, the high point of the afternoon. It attracted the greatest cheers and overwhelming warmth.

The bitterest irony is that in fact tragic football conditions would know exactly what to do. They would have stood and renamed suites, rebuilt statues, the estate of Paul Gascoigne would make overtime. It's just the man who escapes them: the pathetic little dent in their golden, shiny cock.

Gascoigne is still loved.

Gascoigne is still very popular with fans, but his behavior has become alienating in recent years.

Gascoigne is still very popular with fans, but his behavior has been alienating in recent years

Mendy needs a wake-up call

Manchester City is a better team with Benjamin Mendy; but they are not bad without him.

So Mendy needs to reform now and returns to the first team at a crucial stage in the calendar.

Mendy missed seven months of last season and only came back after the competition had already been won, and this season he missed or was selected for 23 Premier League matches, except for a single Champions League group game, the full FA Cup run and all successful League Cup campaigns, with the exception of 27 minutes of the semi-final second leg, City won 10-0 against Burton Albion.

In other words, it is hardly irreplaceable. So, with the 3am nightclub sessions, the late arrivals for treatment and 24 penalty points on his driver's license, Mendy is a pretty maintenance-free item.

That would be just about acceptable if it was an essential part of the Pep Guardiola team and barely missed a game; But in a player who has spent most of two years injured, is it really worth it? If he doesn't knuckle, he can find out soon

Benjamin Mendy maintains much maintenance in Manchester City and is hardly irreplaceable (19459007)

Too much denial of racism

Benjamin Mendy maintains a lot of maintenance in Manchester City and is very irreplaceable

FA President Greg Clarke apologized to the British players for racist abuse that had nothing to do with him, that it was almost possible to miss the apology of the Montenegrin FA. Instead, Secretary-General Momir Djurdjevac took advantage of the opportunity to visit Wembley for the UEFA conference on discrimination to abolish mass racist singing in Podgorica as the work of & # 39; three or four

Djurdjevac pointed to the many attendees who had heard nothing wrong at all: the President of Montenegro, the Prime Minister of Montenegro, the Minister of Sport of Montenegro and the head of the Olympic Committee of Montenegro. We can certainly agree with a broad canvas of independent observers.

And perhaps the abuse was not clear in every part of the land. Clive Tyldesley, who commented, was not aware of it, for example. That can happen.

Sounds can also be confusing, but it can be confusing but it is not the case.

The racial abuse Raheem Sterling was fired by the general secretary of Montenegro

mainly abroad. However, the nature of the hymns in Podgorica was unmistakable, both for the black players in England, and the largely white gathering of press photographers around the field. They did not know what to do, but did not know what to do.

& # 39; I'm not saying it didn't happen … & # 39; Djurdjevac said, implying exactly that. At best, I would accept the handful of idiots theory. And that's the problem.

Even Paul Pogba, who condemned the treatment of Juventus player Moise Kean during a match against Cagliari, spoke of & # 39; a small racist group & # 39 ;. It wasn't that. That's not it. Football Against Racism in Europe described the problem in Italy as & # 39; an epidemic & # 39 ;.

For some reason, however, we are confronted with this, everyone would like to point out the many people who attend football matches without dehumanizing black players, as if this is a badge of honor. And although racism is belittled in this way by people with the power to tackle it, other such events will continue in Podgorica and Cagliari.

Sorry Gareth, you are wrong with Wembley sale

Gareth Southgate came out in favor of Wembley last week. Aside from the fact that Mr. FA wanted to sell it to have just been subordinate to Fulham's relegation in the first week of April, after being Europe's # 3 largest savers in the summer transfer period, the argument of the English manager to miss a crucial point about rent.

& # 39; We were tenants in 1996 and that was a great tournament & # 39 ;, Southgate said. Yes, but England did not feel like tenants in 1996. Wembley, rented or not, was associated with English football, the biggest matches, the biggest occasions.

That was not what it would be like to go through this most recent sale. Once Wembley was the home of the Jacksonville Jaguars, eleven national teams in the country had to be shunted to accommodate the NFL, as soon as the new owner could rent the house, but he chose, England would drift.

There are other ways to finance football at the base, without sacrificing the national stadium. Leasehold Wembley in 1996 was very different from what was proposed.

England manager Gareth Southgate came out last week in support of Wembley "

England manager Gareth Southgate came out to support Wembley's sale last week" for sale Wembley last week "

England manager Gareth Southgate came out last week to support Wembley

A reality check is needed on QPR

Steve's record McClaren in 2019 was bleak, no doubt, but Queens Park Rangers was subject to a £ 42 million bill for breaking Financial Fair Play rules, resulting in uncertain and drastically reduced circumstances, where exactly do they think they would be?

McClaren leaves Rangers eight points free from relegation, in the 17th, which sounds good – if not better than many had expected.

Ole Gunnar Solskjaer hee ft may have announced that he will not be Manchester United's money on the transfer market, but will continue to circulate around a £ 100 million move for Jadon Sancho and other significant bids for Declan Rice or Callum Hudson-Odoi.

And that's the point. Sancho is a great player, but he is also 19; Rice is 20; Hudson-Odoi 18.

Sancho may therefore be the best £ 100 million that United has spent, or a disappointment – and Solskjaer cannot guarantee any way. No manager can. Just like Jose Mourinho and Louis Van Gaal before him, Solskjaer will return to premonition; and in the current market a very expensive one.

Jadon Sancho would represent a huge investment for Manchester United and is a risky venture "

for Manchester United and risky matters"

Jadon Sancho would represent a huge expense for Manchester United and risky affairs

Hamers show last in town

Saracens have signed a five-year contract with Tottenham to host their annual Big Game competition at the new stadium play. Previously the London Stadium had been a location, so this can concentrate a few thoughts.

Leaving with rugby and a bust of cricket – the wicket could only run from east to west, making it treacherous in the sun – chances for landlords are diminishing rapidly. Baseball is coming, but the logistics are terribly expensive, and the single athletics competition costs millions.

The stadium has always suffered from competing with other outdoor locations in the capital, so that leaves … West Ham The tenants of the anchor the landlords spend most of their team in court.

Take them with you and the Olympic Stadium would be the disastrous white elephant that many predicted.

Not since Tony Adams fell down the stairs at Stringfellows celebrating his one-year-old son's birthday, a family evening has been marked in such a absurd way as Mother's Day in the Pickford household.

Everton's goalkeeper traveled north to mark this occasion and ended up in a weak midnight, in which an off-duty bouncer was beaten, and his fiancé, Megan Davison, was grossly insulted by an assertive gang of boozers.

If reports of the abuse directed against Pickford's partner are correct, there was considerable provocation.

But why would you visit the type of establishment that is populated with pumped up half sausage, especially with your mother? What happened to say flowers?

<img id = "i-a3d0631d8c68fcb2" src = "https://ift.tt/2HYN9N8 -78_1554407225574.jpg "height =" 379 "width =" 634 "alt =" Jordan Pickford was involved in a discussion outside the Sunderland bar on Mother's Day "Jordan Pickford was involved in a discussion outside Sunderland on Mother's Day"

outside a bar in Sunderland on Mother's Day

Secret & # 39; s out …

Roy Hodgson says Crystal Palace this summer Wilfried Zaha and Aaron Wan-Bissaka can sell, which will certainly be welcome news to a gentleman on a train in the north last month.

In the open view of everyone who rode through the carriage, he studied a spreadsheet on his laptop, with the highlight : SALE OF ZAHA AND WAN-BISSAKA.

The two players share the representation ie and the traveler did not wear a Crystal Palace training suit.

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[doliminuz]

Youre welcome it is my service o7

ABD YES worst family ever god. Jay got adopted for the second time, he has 4 dads now

i love when people write scenarios where rogue/administration jay interacts with his younger self . prentiss brings in skybound jay and is like hey we gotta relocate this kid and then agent w is like “what the fuck is that me . is that me when im twelve years old . why do i have an eyepatch . did i get jumped by a pack of rabid squirrels . i dont get paid enough for this”