#battle athletes victory

[therosecrest]

[buffgirlotd]

muscular woman of the day: lahrri feldnunt from battle athletes victory

[littleeyesofpallas]

I was thinking about how i'd joked before about blond anime dragkings in the 90s having been a death sentence. But honestly there's only so many of those, and seemingly fewer and fewer in modern series... Where as the archetype that came about at the same time that really did get me down bad for the next decade+ was the tan skin, red (often messy) hair, big girl/muscle girl/sword girl/athlete. (with optional tomboy or feral personality)

(I'll admit a few of these I remembered differently in my head --either I remembered their skin being darker or hair being redder-- than what turned up once I started googling, but a few are definitely a conflict of in-game sprites vs official art, or having a more noticeably darker skin tone compared to the other characters in their respective show/game, but more light skinned looking on their own)

[pinkinsect]

watching haikyuu after being in the blue lock pit for a while is so refreshing. like they're so normal

[whosyourfavevoicedby-polls]

[talk-time-live]

EPISODE 344: The WAY of the HOUSE HUSBAND S2 

This week, we have a lot of news and thoughts on many subjects from Jeremy Renner, the prank that made Angela Bassett's son wait to Exhale, and thoughts on new movies coming soon in the month of January and more. 

Then in our TALK TOPIC of the WEEK, I give my thoughts on two anime shows you will want to add to your watch list. 

All this and more in this episode of A.C.M.G. presents TALK TIME LIVE!

[dr-marbles]

A Guide to Aphrodite’s Epithets

Aphrodite is a goddess of many forms. She is one of the older goddesses, born from Ouranos. She is the sister to the Titans, the Furies, the Meliae, and the Giants.

She is the mother of Harmonia and Eros, the Graces and Peitho, but also of Anteros, of Phobos and Deimos and Adestria. She is vengeful and chaotic, existing in the passion that drives wars and artists, in the lust that fuels affairs and assaults, in the love that fuels suicides and marriage.

In my experience, the epithet you worship is insanely important. Aphrodite Ourania is much more lighthearted than Aphrodite Skotia, or Aphrodite Tymborychos.

Aphrodite Ourania is a Lady of the Heavens. She is lipstick marks on softly written poetry, she is pink roses in a pearl encrusted vase.

Aphrodite Ambologera is children braiding each others hair at kindergarten, teenagers whispering about boys and girls, twenty one year olds partying hard and living life.

Aphrodite Anadyomene is the feeling of ocean water over your feet. She is collecting seashells on the shore, collecting sand and water for spells and rituals.

Aphrodite Apaturia is teenage drama, that seems life ending at first but silly as you grow older. She is the gossip and drama that weaves its way into youth, and she smiles as you live your own movie.

Aphrodite Apotrophia is the mother standing over her child, watchful for creeps. She is the older sister clinging to the younger, she is the one you pray to after being assaulted, the one that will hold you close and take revenge for you.

Aphrodite Areia stands beside her lover in battle. She sees the passion that drove these young men to war, sees the fight in their eyes. She fights alongside them, whispering reminders in their ears about who they are fighting for, for their wives and daughters at home.

Aphrodite Despoina is seen in femme fatales, the click of black stilettos and women that know their worth. She stands beside women with fire in their eyes, by hardworking women that know they are meant for more, by CEOS that know their place, and that their place is at the top.

Aphrodite Gameloi walks you down the aisle alongside your father, watches as you say your vows. She stands beside Hera and blesses your marriage, crying and wishing you the best as your own mother would.

Aphrodite Gentyllis sits with you as you birth your first child, and every child after that. She holds your hand and kisses you on the forehead, wishing you the best as she leaves for the next.

Aphrodite Melainis looks in shadows at night, watching you as you walk home. She will take revenge for you if you need, and it will be delivered brutally.

Aphrodite Nikephoros stands beside olympians and generals alike, celebrating in their victory. She stands beside soldiers as they rejoice, by athletes as they cry, and by children as they win their first tournament. She is there for the small and the big victories, from making your first successful dinner to winning a war.

Aphrodite Pandemos sees no difference between a while child or a black child. You are all her children, and she will kiss you on the forehead and tell you she is proud. She stands with you, whether you can afford fancy offerings or altars, she is of the people, for the people.

Aphrodite Peitho stands beside you as you seduce your first lover. She is there as you beg your parents for a dog, as you persuade your mother to let you sleepover at your friends house for the first time.

Aphrodite Skotia stands beside you as you insult. She stands with you as you cover yourself in the ruins of your purity, and she cradles you when you weep for your innocence. When you cry over your sins, she is there, reminding you that she too, is Unholy, and it is okay.

Aphrodite Tymborychos stands with the survivors community, with rape victims and domestic abuse survivors. She stands with women that have slaughtered their abusers, with daughters and sons that have stood up to abusive parents. She stands in the middle of riots for freedom, because if her children cannot stand free then their oppressors should not stand at all.

She is all of these at once, and she is there. You can find her wherever you look, in poetry books or romance novels. You can find her in the laughter of young girls and the tears of victims. You can find her in graveyards, whispering her revenge to abusers and murderers, reminding them that she is a gravedigger and a mother, and harm that befalls her children is a slight to her.

DISCLAIMER: You do not have to choose an epithet. This is here to remind you that Aphrodite comes in many forms, and the Aphrodite you worship sometimes won’t line up with someone else’s. <3

[eevees-hobbies]

His Lucky Charm - NSFW (Fem!Reader x Haruka Sakura)

Author’s Note: Down bad for Haruka Sakura. As always, I appreciate likes, comments and reblogs. Requests/thirsts are open.

Synopsis: Sakura considers you his lucky charm that contributes to his winning fight record. How does it work? Well, he has to fuck you, duh!

Content Warning: All smut. Cum eating, reader receives oral, premature ejaculation, fingering, submissive Sakura, then dominant Sakura, teasing, shit-talking. Minors Do Not Interact.

Word Count: 1.8K

Divider by Saradika. Story banner by me.

“I’m going to beat someone’s ass today.”

To anyone else, those seven words dripping in confidence and lethal aggression would sound like a declaration of war. But to you, someone who knows your boyfriend—Haruka Sakura—you know those words are intended for you. 

He’s giving you a message. A pattern has developed between you two. Sakura has a fixed, unyielding mindset that if he has a fight that day, he needs to have you split open on his cock prior to the battle to guarantee victory. Because, simply put, you are his good luck charm.

Is it backed by science? Absolutely not. Does he believe it to his core? Bet your fucking ass he does.

So it doesn’t come to you as a surprise that you’re now in a position where you’re poised on your king-sized bed, staring up at the ceiling, legs spread with Sakura’s mouth making out with your cum-filled pussy.

“Mmm, eat up baby.” You purposefully clench your walls, forcing Sakura’s cum to flow out of you and into his open mouth.

“You’re a fucking pervert,” he sneers. Without missing a beat, his tongue darts out to catch the residual leakage, savoring the saltiness of his cum and the sweetness of your pussy. You can only see the top of his head from your vantage, but you can hear the whine in his voice as he laps at you hungrily. 

“What’d ya say, my little cum eater?” You tease, earning a quick bite to your inner thigh from Sakura.

He sits up and wipes at his mouth with the back of his hand, “let me put it back in. I won’t cum too fast this time, swear,” he states, trying his best to hide the way his voice fractures, a clear indication of his desire to have you again. 

Truth be told, Sakura is really good at fucking. He’s athletic, flexible, nimble with his fingers, and is capable of bouncing you on his dick until you can’t form a coherent thought in your pretty little head.

The keyword here is capable.

Sakura’s one flaw is that he has no control over when he ejaculates. Some sessions feel like they’ve gone on for hours, while others are over as soon as he pushes the tip of his cock in. He can’t help that your cunt feels like it’s actively deepthroating him and how entering you often sends him reeling and coating the entrance of your messy pussy with his seed. Every time he fucks you, you’re playing some lewd version of Russian Roulette. Will he or won’t he?

A Few Moments Ago

Sakura had tapped the head of his fat dick against your swollen clit, watching as your wetness formed droplets on the smooth head of his cock. He couldn’t help but drool at the way your cute little clit twitched for him as if beckoning him to abuse it more. 

You, however, were squirming beneath him, his inadvertent teasing feeling like your own personal hell. “Sakura, hurry up!” 

Your attempt at sounding commanding landed on deaf ears–he’s too far gone with the only thought on his mind: coating his dick with your thick cream so he can win his fight today. As he slid into you, you barely had enough time to adjust and savor his girth before he let out a hitched gasp. 

You witnessed what was happening as it played out on his face before you felt “it.”

“It,” being his dick spasming pathetically, an untimely victim to your slick, tight walls.

Sakura knew it, too. His neck, face, and ears were a bright red, and his mouth was opening and closing as if he wanted to say something, but the premature orgasm that was being ripped from his body didn’t allow him the privilege to do so.

A slippery warmth suddenly slid down your thighs, and your eyes widened, “Sakura, don’t tell me that you just fucking came.”

“Um, I can get it back up. Give me a second.” He reached his hand down in between you both and pulled back so he was stroking his softening dick in his hands, gazing at your body with such intensity that it made your walls involuntarily clench.

But fuck this. Fuck that. It was cute the first twenty times. Now you’re feeling less than merciful after experiencing being cruelly edged into what feels like insanity.

“The least you can do is clean it up.”

Sakura’s hand stops pumping, and his eyes dash over to your exposed pussy, which is now leaking his cum onto the bedsheets. “Y-you want me to eat you out with my…’stuff’ running out of you?”

The audacity.

“Sakura,” you enunciate his name as though you’re giving him a warning. You’re thankful that he doesn’t call your bluff because he positions himself between your thighs and begins to get to work like the dutiful boy he is.

Now

“Sakura, get back to work,” you growl and shift so that he has a clear view of your waiting sex. He grumbles but dives back in.

You can’t help but bite your bottom lip. For all the things that Sakura is, he’s an excellent—and messy—eater. The way he spits a glob of spit on your pussy, swirling it around with his tongue and pushing it into you to add to your already oversaturated hole, makes your head float. 

“Mmm, fuck, you taste so fuckin’ good, baby.”

He slips his middle finger in you, and you take it with ease, having already been temporarily stretched out by his cock. As he curls his finger against your g-spot, an area that he’s proud to have found on his own, he presses an open-mouthed kiss against your clit, then another, and another.

The inside of your thighs contract almost painfully, the sensation of his mouth allowing you to get closer to that orgasm that escaped you moments before, fuck, you’re so fucking close, god, here it fucking comes-

Until Sakura abruptly pulls away, leaving the absence of his finger and mouth very apparent.

“I’m hard again. Let me fuck you,” he whines as he palms his dick which is now dripping globules of precum on your leg. If you weren’t so horny, you’d be flattered.

As you contemplate how many years a murder charge would get you and if orgasm denial is a reasonable enough defense, Sakura lets out a frustrated growl and flips you onto your stomach.

Yeah, murder is lookin’ pretty good right about now.

You feel Sakura press his body against yours, his cock dragging heavily against the top of your ass and down the expanse of it. You give him a little twerk, smacking the fat of it against the underside of his cock.

Sakura growls and slides his dick back into you slower and with far more care than you anticipated, either because he’s attempting to avoid a repeat of his little incident from earlier or because he’s savoring the feeling of entering you. 

It makes no difference to you as you feel your senses overload from just being in such close proximity to him. Everywhere his skin touches you, you feel the charge of electricity. Where his fingers brush against the fat of your thighs, goose bumps soon follow. Fuck, even the smell of the tangy sex of your two bodies mixing intoxicates you.

God, this man. 

His mouth is pressed so close to your neck that the heat of his breath tickles the shell of your ear. “Fuuuuck, why do you feel like you were meant for me?”

His words relax your body, softening muscles you hadn’t known were rigid, “that’s because I am meant for you, Haruka.”

Your words ring in his ears like a sermon he didn’t know he needed, a mantra delivered off the tip of your tongue that drives him wild. Your words give him the unspoken go-ahead to hold your wrists behind your back and piston his hips forward, ramming into you so hard that you’re being forced forward, causing the bedsheets to rub against your nipples in a way that makes you shudder.

“Shit, every time I fuck you, I win a fight. This pussy’s that fuckin’ good.” The Sakura who had accidently cum inside of you was long gone, replaced by this confident and sex-possessed man.

And god, does it feel so good to finally have your cervix abused by him.

“You gonna’ cum on this dick, baby? Help me win my fight?”

Words aren’t coming quickly to you–a consequence of him slamming into you so hard that your body is shifting upwards and making it difficult to catch your breath, but you give him your best hum of approval.

You can feel his fingers squeeze your wrists so harshly that you’re confident that they’re going to leave delicious indentations and maybe even bruises for you to wear like a badge of honor over the next few days.

“Haruka,” you whimper, “I’m not going to last much longer.”

He sputters out a half laugh-half moan, “Shit, ain’t that funny.” You can’t see it, but you can feel the cocky grin he has on his face as he delivers a hard smack to your ass. The way you clench around his dick makes Sakura’s leg shake. 

“You liked that?” He palms your ass roughly, jiggling it against his hand and making it bounce.

At this point, you don’t know what’s more shameful: the fact that your pre-ejaculation-prone boyfriend is giving you a run for your money or that he’s now giving you shit. Either way, the switch in his attitude from being so pathetically pussy-hungry that he was licking up his cum to now restraining you and pounding into your cervix is a pleasant and pleasurable mindfuck.

Oh shit.

At that moment, Sakura finds the spot in you that makes you rasp out his name. You can barely concentrate on all the sounds that he’s pulling out of you, but the distinct sound of splashing makes your cheeks hot, the mixture of his cum, saliva, and your fluids splashing out and coating Sakura’s pubic hair and thighs.

“F-fucking cum already,” he growls in your ear. You then realize that this is a competition for him. He’s holding back his orgasm not out of consideration but simply out of spite. And if you hadn’t already had so many orgasms stolen from you, you might have been able to play his game and give him a run for his money.

Wishful thinking as you bite the bedsheets, stealing the satisfaction he’d gain from hearing the earsplitting moan that erupts from your lungs as, finally, your cunt grips and squeezes at his cock.

Sakura lets out a chuckle—because he fucking won—that is quickly replaced by his loud whine as his inhumanly large load floods into you. Several minutes pass before either of you can move—heavy breathing and residual groans fill the room.

Finally, Sakura dismounts you, but not before delivering a smack to your ass triumphantly.

Asshole

“I gotta go, but thanks for the extra mojo, babe.”

You close your eyes, completely spent, and whisper, “have fun winning your fight,” before drifting off to sleep.

[wosos-stuff]

Fractured Reflections

Lucy Bronze x Bronze Reader

-------------------------

The first time you realized your relationship with Lucy was fractured beyond repair was during an otherwise ordinary family dinner. You were both home for the holidays, seated at opposite ends of the table, the tension between you thick enough to choke on.

Your parents were oblivious, filling the silence with forced cheer and small talk about football. Your father praised Lucy’s latest performance with the national team, and you could see the pride in his eyes as he spoke about her accomplishments. Lucy, as always, deflected the praise with a modest smile, her eyes never once meeting yours.

It wasn’t that you resented Lucy’s success—you were proud of her, truly. But that pride was buried under layers of hurt, anger, and a sense of abandonment that had festered for years. Lucy had always been the golden child, the one who seemed destined for greatness from the start. Meanwhile, you had fought tooth and nail to carve out a place for yourself, to step out of her shadow and be seen as something more than just “Lucy Bronze’s little sister.”

But no matter how hard you tried, how much you achieved on your own, it always seemed like you were chasing after her, doomed to play catch-up in a race you could never win.

That night at the dinner table, something inside you snapped. Your father had just finished talking about Lucy’s latest victory when he turned to you, asking about your upcoming match with Arsenal. It was a big game, one that could determine whether your team would advance in the league, and you had been preparing for it relentlessly.

But before you could respond, Lucy cut in with a comment about how “every game is important,” her tone dripping with condescension. It was a small remark, barely noticeable to anyone else at the table, but to you, it felt like a slap in the face—a reminder that no matter what you did, it would never measure up to her standards.

You pushed your chair back and stood up abruptly, the sound of the legs scraping against the floor cutting through the awkward silence. “I’m not hungry anymore,” you muttered, before turning on your heel and walking out of the dining room.

You could feel Lucy’s eyes on your back as you left, but you didn’t look back. You didn’t want to see the indifference you knew would be there, the same indifference that had been growing between you for years.

---

The rivalry between you and Lucy only intensified as the season progressed. It wasn’t just a matter of sibling rivalry anymore—there was genuine animosity between you, fueled by years of unresolved tension and unspoken words.

When your teams faced off on the pitch, it was like a battle of wills, each of you determined to prove something to the other. You could see the fire in Lucy’s eyes every time she squared off against you, and you knew she could see the same in yours.

The media loved to play up the “sister rivalry” angle, painting it as a friendly competition between two elite athletes. But behind closed doors, it was anything but friendly. Every interaction was laced with sarcasm, every conversation a minefield of hidden barbs and thinly veiled insults.

You tried to talk to her once, after a particularly brutal match that ended in a draw. Both teams had fought tooth and nail for every inch of the pitch, and by the end, you were both battered and bruised, physically and emotionally.

As you walked off the field, you saw Lucy ahead of you, her head down as she made her way to the locker room. For a moment, you hesitated, considering whether or not to approach her. But something in you—perhaps a lingering hope that things could still be fixed—made you quicken your pace to catch up with her.

“Lucy,” you called out, your voice strained from the effort of keeping your emotions in check.

She stopped but didn’t turn around, her posture rigid. “What do you want?” she asked, her voice cold.

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest. “We need to talk. About… everything.”

Lucy turned then, her eyes narrowing as she looked at you. “There’s nothing to talk about,” she said flatly. “You made your choice a long time ago.”

You stared at her, stunned by the venom in her voice. “What are you talking about? You’re the one who shut me out! You’re the one who always made me feel like I wasn’t good enough!”

“Because you weren’t!” Lucy snapped, her eyes blazing. “You were always trying to compete with me, always trying to prove something. I didn’t have time for that. I was focused on my career, on being the best.”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut, leaving you breathless. “You’re unbelievable,” you said, your voice trembling with anger. “You’re so caught up in yourself that you can’t see how much you’ve hurt me, how much you’ve pushed me away.”

Lucy crossed her arms, her expression unyielding. “Maybe you should stop blaming me for your own insecurities.”

That was the last straw. The fragile thread that had been holding you together snapped, and all the anger, hurt, and resentment you had been holding in came flooding out.

“Go to hell, Lucy,” you spat, turning away before she could see the tears that were starting to well up in your eyes. “I’m done with you.”

---

After that confrontation, you and Lucy barely spoke. On the rare occasions when you had to interact—at family gatherings or team events—the air between you was thick with hostility. The few words you exchanged were curt and laced with sarcasm, and it wasn’t long before even your parents began to notice the growing rift.

But they didn’t understand. No one did. To the outside world, you and Lucy were still sisters, still family, still bound by blood. But blood wasn’t enough to bridge the chasm that had opened up between you.

The media continued to hype up your rivalry, turning every match between your teams into a spectacle of sibling drama. But they didn’t see what was really happening, didn’t see the hatred that was growing in your heart, festering like a wound that would never heal.

You threw yourself into your training, into your matches, determined to outshine Lucy on the pitch. But no matter how well you played, no matter how many goals you scored or accolades you earned, it never felt like enough. The shadow of your sister loomed over you, a constant reminder of everything you could never be.

And Lucy, for her part, seemed to thrive on the rivalry. She played with a level of intensity that you had never seen before, as if she was determined to crush you beneath her feet. Every victory she claimed felt like a personal attack, a reminder that no matter how hard you tried, she would always be one step ahead.

---

The final straw came during the last match of the season, a game that would determine the league champion. Your team had fought its way to the top, and now, you were facing Lucy’s team in a winner-takes-all showdown.

The match was brutal, both teams pushing themselves to the limit in a desperate bid for victory. You and Lucy clashed on the field time and time again, each encounter more intense than the last. It was as if the entire world had shrunk down to just the two of you, locked in a battle that neither of you could afford to lose.

In the final minutes of the game, with the score tied and everything on the line, you found yourself with the ball at your feet, racing toward the goal. You could feel Lucy closing in on you, her presence a cold shadow at your back.

You were so focused on the goal, so determined to score and prove once and for all that you were just as good—no, better—than your sister, that you didn’t see the tackle coming until it was too late.

Lucy’s foot connected with the ball, sending it flying out of your reach, and you went down hard, the impact jarring every bone in your body. The referee’s whistle blew, signaling a foul, but it was too late. The chance was gone, the game was over.

As you lay on the ground, pain radiating through your body, you looked up to see Lucy standing over you, her expression cold and unfeeling. For a moment, you thought you saw a flicker of something in her eyes—regret, perhaps, or guilt—but it was gone as quickly as it had appeared.

She walked away without a word, leaving you to pick yourself up off the ground, the bitter taste of defeat heavy in your mouth.

---

That was the last time you saw Lucy. After the match, she disappeared, throwing herself into her training for the national team. You heard rumors that she was considering a move abroad, but you didn’t care enough to ask if they were true.

The rift between you had grown too wide, the hurt too deep. There was no going back, no way to fix what had been broken.

Your parents tried to mediate, to bring you back together, but their efforts were in vain. You were too far gone, too consumed by your own anger and resentment to even consider reconciliation.

In the end, you and Lucy went your separate ways, the bond between you shattered beyond repair. You were no longer sisters, no longer family—just two strangers who happened to share the same blood.

And as the years passed, the memories of what you had once been—of the closeness you had shared, the laughter, the love—faded into the background, overshadowed by the bitter reality of what you had become.

You continued to play, to chase after your dreams, but there was always a shadow lingering just out of reach. The rivalry with Lucy was over, but the emptiness remained, a constant reminder of the sister you had lost, and the fractured reflections of a relationship that would never be whole again.

[avissapiens]

How to be a Jock Ch8: Elements

(Model ID: David Laid // https://www.instagram.com/davidlaid/)

Sharp, hardened, honed. Forged in the fires of ruthless ambition  until that jock edge is so fine you can cut through the competition like butter. Mined out of the rough ground up masses and refined into something finally valuable. Pounded and molded into the shape you know will suit you best. Melted down and recast at the smallest sign of failure or impurity. Always polished and glinting in the sunlight like a medal on a star athletes chest.

The Metallic Jock core might seem cold and unapproachable at first. But when jocks meet the clashing and crashing of those ores can glow red hot. Sparks flying as they compete to be the best. Yearning for more. Never stopping the constant battle for self-perfection. Squeezing, bending, deforming, but never breaking. Never stopping. Too powerful to ever be broken. Both a link in a chain and the chain itself capable of holding the whole world up. Rewarded with glittering treasure beyond belief. The steely gaze of your eyes claiming conquest over every resource you covet. Flaunting that ownership and superiority with your weaponized body. Those cut, abs like titanium plating. The sheen from your sweat and exertion over bronze sunkissed skin; the perfect mirror for lessers to gaze in with envy. That vice grip over what you have won and what you desire to win. Abundance and endless victory totally magnetized towards you.

Let your potential and greatness surge through you like a copper wire. Let them lust after your success like gold and silver while you remain as stainless and strong as reinforced steel. You are sharper and harder than damascened iron.  Clear the path ahead of you and become something pure and great. Authors note: I was very annoyed that tumblr doesn't have Yellow as a font colour which is my go-to for jock. So just imagine all the Blue highlights are Golden.

For Resources to help embody your Jock Journey you can check out the Jock Archetype guide for free on Patreon. Support me on Patreon, where you can find a number of high-quality Jock file exclusives. And go and follow me on Youtube for just a taste of my catalogue. Also be sure to Join me and my community on Discord where you can get instant updates for everything important in the abyss.

[highcoutureaffair]

In a very challenging and expensive sport that is known to be surrounded by controversy, racism and even xenophobia, Sergio Pérez consistently fought for a place to make his dreams come true, and successfully, he won against all odds, and not only he achieved victories or podiums… he dared to persist for fourteen long years.

He saw many people come and go, and he battled with the strong emotions that commonly emerge with the pressure of F1, he saw it all.

He kept going, no matter the situation. He paid no attention to those who wanted him out and that's one of the bravest things he did, and for that, he was punished by the media. You know how harsh those rumours about him were, but he still was a sweet man who told us not to worry.

His class, kindness and purely nice actions were a truly special thing, because he only replied with positivity most of the time; he wanted to make his country proud and that was all.

Thank you Checo for opening doors for millions of Mexican fans and athletes who want to be seen in a sport that is not always so kind.

You did wonders for the next generation of racing drivers from Mexico. And for that, we cherish your outstanding achievements

[therosecrest]

[pitchsidestories]

WHEN IS THE DAMN SEASON STARTING??? - Documentaries to watch when the summer break is feeling too long

Recommendations for a long, rainy summer day with no plan other than to relax

Queens of the Pitch

It offers an early glimpse at a film about the team that in the 2020/21 season won their first ever Champions League title, the league and the Copa de la Reina.

where to watch: BARÇATV+ (you can sign up for free)

Copa 71

Told by the pioneering women who participated, this is the extraordinary story of the 1971 Women's Soccer World Cup, a tournament witnessed by record crowds that has been written out of sporting history - until now.

STEP BY STEP. VIV & BETH'S ACL JOURNEY

Step By Step is a five-part series charting the duo's absences and rehab as they battle back from their serious setbacks to star once again for the Arsenal's women's team.

where to watch: youtube

Under Pressure. The US Women's World Cup Team

Follow the US Women's National Team to get a behind-the-scenes look. The strain, the elation, the excitement, and the struggles that these athletes go through as they pursue their third consecutive World Cup victory.

where to watch: netflix

Short Snacks for in between or when you don't have too much time because summer is finally here but you still miss womens football

The movie. FC Barcelona vs. Olympique Lyon

A third European title and a historic quadruple are conquered with a superb display capped by goals from Aitana and Alexia.

where to watch: youtube FC Barcelona

The Conti Cup Final. In Our Own Words

it features exclusive interviews with the squad and never-before-seen footage from the match against Chelsea, allowing you to relive our victory through a brand new lens.

where to watch: youtube

Leah Williamson's Return

After being sidelined for 10 months with an ACL injury, Leah Williamson finally returned to the pitch for a Conti Cup clash against Reading. The feature includes exclusive dressing room footage alongside interviews with Leah and her teammates.

where to watch: youtube

Alessia Russo's first season

Relive her first few months at the Arsenal.

where to watch: arsenal.com

You need more recs ? Part 1 can be found here. <3

[delusionalfanficwriter]

head injury

Y/N had been an integral part of Arsenal Women's Football Club for three years. Her journey with the team had seen them through victories, challenges, and unforgettable moments on and off the field. During this time, Y/N had cultivated deep connections with her teammates, and they had become more than just friends and fellow athletes; they were her soccer family. As this season progressed, Arsenal found themselves facing a crucial match against their fierce rivals, Chelsea. Y/N, being her tenacious self, was right in the thick of the action. Her partnership with Leah on the field had always been one of Arsenal's strengths, and they synchronized like clockwork. Arsenal was known for its fluid passing and attacking style of play, and Y/N played a pivotal role in their success.

The first half of the match saw both teams battling fiercely for dominance on the field. The intensity was high, and both Arsenal and Chelsea were pushing their limits.

During a set piece, as Y/N went up to contest a header, an accidental collision with an opposing player pushed her back into the goal post, her head ricocheting off the metal post.

As the ball was kicked to upfield, everyone cleared around the goal, but the stadium fell into a hushed panic as Y/N lay motionless on the ground. Leah, her girlfriend, was the first to reach her. 

Kneeling by Y/N's side, her voice trembling as she cried out, "We need medics!" Leah shouted, her heart racing seeing Y/N's eyes closed. Leah reached out, placing her trembling hand on Y/N's cheek, hoping to rouse her. "Y/N, I need you to open your eyes for me. Hey, Y/N, come on. Open your eyes."

More teammates gathered around as panic swelled, their faces etched with worry. Jessie Fleming, Y/N's sister, dropped to the ground beside Leah. She reached out to shake her sister's shoulders, but Leah stopped her.

"You can't move her, Jessie," Leah cautioned, her voice strained with fear. "Her neck or back might be injured." Jessie nodded in understanding and opted to stroke little strands of her hair that have fallen from her ponytail, out of her face. 

Leah and Jessie tried their best to awaken y/n but nothing seemed to work.  

Finally, the team's medical staff arrived as well as medics, their expertise evident as they swiftly assessed the situation. They took every precaution to stabilize Y/N's neck and spine, carefully fitting a cervical collar around her and turning her over.

“We need some space guys.” The older medic informed Jessie and Leah but they remained in their spots. Jordan, McCabe, Kerr and a few other of their own teammates had to physically pull them back. They now stood a few feet away watching one of the medics speak to Y/N, trying to coax her into consciousness while another examined her vitals.

As the medics worked for a few minutes, Y/N's eyelids fluttered open, revealing her dazed and confused expression. She tried to sit up, but the medical staff gently held her down, reminding her not to move. Y/N mumbled incoherently, and Leah leaned closer, straining to catch her words before going right next to y/n side, hating the sight of seeing her so lost and scared. "It's okay, Y/N," Leah whispered, her voice trembling. "You had a tough collision, but the medics are here to help you."

“Y/n, you need to lay back down. Everything is going to be okay, but try not to move so much.” Jessie crouched down and spoke as she noticed her wanting to get up once again.

Y/N's consciousness wavered like a flickering flame. She struggled to comprehend her surroundings, her eyes darting aimlessly as confusion clouded her thoughts. Jessie's plea to stay still seemed to fall on deaf ears, and Y/N's movements grew more erratic.

Leah held her girlfriend's trembling hand, her voice quaking with concern. "Y/N, please, lay back down. You need to stay still. Everything is going to be okay." She desperately hoped her words would reach Y/N through the haze of her dazed state.

The medical staff worked with a sense of urgency, attempting to keep Y/N from further harm as she teetered on the edge of consciousness. They continued their assessments, monitoring her vitals, and told Leah and Jessie to try to keep y/n engaged in conversation to keep her awake.

Y/N's attempts to engage back in the conversation were sporadic and disjointed, and it became increasingly apparent that the injury was more severe than anyone had initially thought. Her responses were fragmented, and she struggled to maintain her focus.

Leah squeezed her hand, her voice trembling with worry. "Y/N, do you remember our first date? We went to that little café near your place, and it was pouring rain. You laughed when I slipped on a puddle."

Y/N's eyelids fluttered, but her gaze was unfocused. She mumbled, "Rain... yeah," but her voice was barely audible, and her response lacked the warmth and clarity it once held.

Jessie, trying to hold back tears, added, "And what about that time we played football in the park with Dad? You always said you'd be better than all of us."

Y/N's lips twitched in an attempt at a smile, but it was fleeting. "am... better," she mumbled, her words disjointed and distant. The memories, which should have elicited laughter and connection, now seemed to be slipping away from her grasp.

As Y/N's condition worsened, she suddenly gagged, her face contorted in pain, it was a distressing sight, and the medics reacted swiftly,  turning her onto her side to clear her airway and prevent any choking from the vomit that arose.

Leah's voice quivered as she tried to maintain Y/N's focus. "Y/N, stay with us. We're right here with you. Keep those beautiful eyes of yours open."

But Y/N's response was a mere groan, and her eyes slowly rolled back, her body growing limp. The medics exchanged concerned glances, realizing that her condition was rapidly deteriorating.

Without a moment to lose, they immediately placed an oxygen mask over her face, ensuring she received a steady flow of oxygen. Simultaneously, they carefully slid a backboard beneath her, immobilizing her spine and neck to prevent any further damage during transportation. Moments later, an ambulance sped onto the field. Y/N, still unconscious, was swiftly and gently transferred onto a stretcher, her body secured and placed into the ambulance. Leah and Jessie immediately followed behind inserting themselves into the ambulance not caring if they were in the middle of a match. 

As the ambulance raced towards the hospital, the sound of the siren echoed in the confined space causing Y/N to begin to stir. Her eyelids fluttered open, and she found herself disoriented, with the oxygen mask covering her face. In her groggy state, she attempted to remove the mask, her hands reaching up to pull it away.

Leah noticed Y/N's movement and gently placed her hand over Y/N's to stop her. "It's okay, love," she reassured, her voice soft and soothing. "You need to keep that on for now. It's helping you breathe."

"Y/N, it's okay," Jessie whispered, her hand resting on Y/N's arm. "You're in the ambulance, and we're on our way to the hospital.”

Y/N's eyes shifted from Leah to Jessie, her gaze still hazy. She attempted to speak but found it difficult. The words came out slurred and unfocused. "Why...hospital?"

Leah's fingers gently brushed Y/N's hair back from her forehead. "You had an accident on the field, love. The medics are taking you to the hospital to make sure you're okay. We're here with you, and everything will be fine."

Jessie leaned closer, her voice soothing. "Just relax, Y/N. The hospital will take good care of you, and we'll be right there beside you."

Y/N, though still disoriented and in pain, found some comfort in their presence. She nodded weakly and allowed them to reposition the oxygen mask, focusing on their voices to keep herself calm.

[blueikeproductions]

So with TFONE now on streaming, it’s now number 1 on P+, and introduces audiences to the modern version of the origins of the Great War.

But how did the Great War start before hand?

For the most part, it’s pretty simple: Most series revolve around both factions fighting over energy sources when we first meet the Transformers. This power struggle would more often than not depict the war stalemating due to an energy crisis or the energy crisis being part of the reason the war started to begin with.

Occasionally the question is brought up why the Autobots and Decepticons can’t get along…

The Decepticons are pretty typically war mongering villains, wanting to pillage and plunder the galaxy to rule over it, while the Autobots oppose them for the good of Cybertron and other innocent lifeforms caught in the conflict.

For the most part, the cartoons don’t divulge too much into any deeper ideological differences, the Decepticons want power and will hurt people to get it, the Autobots want to protect. That’s about the long and short of it.

The original cartoon and some comics would later explain this is a genetic difference due to their creation. The Quintessons built the robots to be Consumer Goods and Military Hardware, with the Military robots desiring power and conquest some time after the Quintessons were chased off Cybertron. The comics would suggest the Decepticons are a natural yang to the Autobots’ Yin, futher established with the ancient evil mechanoid, Liege Maximo, being the one who the Decepticons descended from. Unlike today, most media would cast Megatron and Optimus as simply being the current leaders of their respective sides, with Optimus coming into the battle a little later after Megatron was established. Likewise, both would have successors, like RatBat and Bludgeon in the comics or Deathsaurus and Violenjiger in anime while the Autobots had Grimlock, Rodimus Prime, Star Saber and Dai Atlas. There clearly was an intent for a line of succession that today is mostly ignored.

Anyway, the 80’s cartoon was very consistent that the Decepticons were the cause of the conflict, and that Cybertron was plagued with several wars prior to Optimus and Megatron’s time, with each side declaring victory at various points.

Curiously, an aborted concept prior to the 80’s movie would’ve explained the Decepticons were a separate alien robot race that invaded Cybertron in its prehistory, which would’ve greatly changed things had that been retained.

While the Marvel Comics would mostly retain ideas from the carton, the earlier issues would reveal Transforming was a war time invention of the Decepticons, which the Autobots would later copy. This was of course retconned later with the Primus origin story, while the cartoon would show Transforming as an Autobot invention during the war.

The UK comics would attempt to elaborate the origins of the Decepticons by depicting the athletic Megatron and his early followers being survivors of their destroyed city states during early conflicts over dwindling energy resources on Cybertron. While Optimus and Megatron were former athletic rivals, their connection and rivalry became more solidified during war time.

Cartoons would largely stick to the simpler direction of Autobots and Decepticons being morally opposed, one Heroic and Good, the other Dastardly and Evil.

Japanese media in particular goes pretty hard in this direction where the Autobots and their Maximal descendants are pretty firmly established as peace keepers and heroic ambassadors of justice, helping other races evolve and grow by pooling technology and resources, resulting in Autobot City on Earth, Earth Defense Command and collaborations with other organic and mechanical races. The Decepticons meanwhile are a corrosive force aiming for wanton destruction and power lust, led by various so called Emperors of Destruction like Scorponok and Deathsaurus post Galvatron. The only real exception to this in Japanese media was the reveal Deathsaurus’ Decepticons were only fighting to keep their families alive aboard Deathsaurus’ fortress. His wife kept tabs on things there and was actually kind of a sweetheart, though this is only unique to the manga. Anime Deathsaurus had no family and was hellbent on wanting to blow up Earth to prove a point out of spite.

Armada is pry the only time where the question was asked as to why both sides are fighting, to the point the modern Autobots and Decepticons ask this themselves and show uncertainty as to what both were originally fighting for in the first place. The show would establish that while the war started similarly to G1, the sudden appearance of the evolution granting Mini-Cons aggravated things further.

The anime would later explain the Mini-Cons, and his Acolyte Sideways, were created by Unicron as a means to keep the war going, as the anger and hatred of the war sustained him.

Unicron somewhat rightly called out both factions as merely being war machines that loved fighting and wouldn’t know what to do with themselves outside of that environment. It gave Optimus pause, and Galvatron seems to silently acknowledge this is true to some extent, but Optimus still values what he feels the Autobots have been fighting for thanks to the humans and Mini-Cons: peace for all. Optimus will fight, to eradicate the evil plaguing Cybertron in Unicron and those among the Decepticons who won’t quit.

Thanks to a time paradox that saw Rad, Carlos and Alexis travel to the era of the Mini-Cons’ creation and bond with them back then, this ensured Unicron and the Decepticons’ ambitions would unravel in the future, seeing the Mini-Cons gradually evolve into beings celebrating peace rather than just being “smart tools” for war time.

What makes it funnier for Armada, is the Dreamwave version of events featured a short comic about peace ambassadors coming to Cybertron to attempt to diffuse the situation.

The surviving ambassador hoped it would work itself out and got the heck out of Cybertron.

While the Great War was still the main war, other series would state Cybertron was constantly at war, with the Great War simply being the current one. Past wars, like the cartoon, were either waged by the Autobots and Decepticons’ ancestors or caused by an alien invasion by the Quintessons or other races with an axe to grind with Cybertron.

The Bay films would famously introduce the life giving Allspark which for a lot of media, became the primary reason why the Autobots and Decepticons went to war. The Decepticons wanted to abuse its power for their own gain, like the Skeksis wanted with the Dark Crystal, while the Autobots couldn’t let that happen, seeing the relic ejected from Cybertron, condemning it to a slow death until the relic was found on Earth, prompting both sides to go there to fetch it. While Earth’s inclusion in the war originally was to both explain why the Transformers turn into vehicles and Earth animals, and that our planet is abundant in resources the Decepticons would seek to use, that became secondary as the Allspark was viewed as more important. Ancillary movie material would start to lay the foundation that Megatron started the war out of jealousy and growing idealogical resentment at Optimus.

Today, thanks to TFONE, but also the Bay films and Aligned, the Great War caused by the Decepticons started instead by a falling out by Optimus and Megatron who originally were former friends with similar ideals for Cybertron. The duo had managed to stop the initial corruption plaguing Cybertron, but Megatron’s anger, hated and growing resentment and superiority saw him break ties and start a new War to eradicate the Autobots and to fully remove any trace of the false Primes and leaders he felt Optimus now represented.

This concept had shaky ground though, as I feel it unintentionally painted the Decepticons being in the right, and the Autobots being in the wrong. IDW (and later WFC & Cyberverse) milked this for all it was worth, painting the Decepticons as misunderstood freedom fighters who lost their way, while the Autobots while still trying to uphold peace and justice, did appear to come off as simply defending the system some of them benefited from. Megatron would later become more of an antihero, painting his current EarthSpark counterpart being reformed and working with Optimus once more, but still clearly struggling in areas due to Optimus’ view points to keep Megatron in check.

This modern idea isn’t super popular with veteran fans, with Autobot Megatron being a particular point of irritation due to how unbelievable Megatron would change his mind is based on the writers making both factions irredeemably awful and gray in IDW, WFC and Cyberverse.

TFONE is the only thing to come out that far better articulates the idea, though not without some parts feeling a little forced, it’s still the only thing that makes it far more believable Optimus and Megatron used to be close friends. In this version of events, Optimus was more of a thrill seeking, reckless adventurer type wanting to prove his worth, while Megatron fully believed in the system and was content to be a cog in the machine that benefited Cybertron. This is much more understandable as older stuff tended to cast Optimus as a quiet book worm while Megatron was the more loud ambitious one, which felt at odds with the modern political nature of the war. TFONE Megatron’s hero worship of Sentinel and belief in the system shattered and turned into part self loathing and full on anger and frustration makes so much more sense, and his growing resentment at Optimus for dragging him on wild goose chases in their youth also fits the modern ideas better.

Chief among them, TFONE fixes the problem Aligned had, by instead having the Decepticons originate as the entitled upper class (like Airachnid and Darkwing) and disgruntled, power seeking High Guard led by Starscream, while the Autobots originated as the oppressed Miner class. I think the key difference going forward is Optimus still sought equality and brought it by both proving what the Miners can do at the Iacon races and by providing the Miners with their T-Cogs and restoring flowing Energon to the energy starved planet that Sentinel created. Megatron meanwhile is still stewing in his loathing and hatred born from his disbelief at what his hero Sentinel has done, and what he feels is Optimus contributing to it (when he’s clearly not). It’s fairly simple for what it is, and it works perfectly.

The energy crisis is also brought back in the film, a problem Sentinel caused, which I think helps better explain further stress on why the war broke out. Considering the Quintessons have a stake in Cybertron’s Energon, the continued need for energy I would assume would still play a role in a potential sequel. Skybound also returned to energy being a driving factor, though it’s unclear as if typing if Optimus and Megatron were former friends here, I’m leaning towards no. What context we do get with him leans towards his older G1 cartoon self, wanting to completely eradicate the Autobots as well as having a corrosive, manipulative personality, shaping those like Starscream into the monster he is today. No trace of the modern lingering hope the two have that they could go back to being friends seems to be here.

How newer versions of the Great War are shaped post TFONE, within CyberWorld and during Skybound we have yet to see, but however it works in the future will likely depend on which version the creators want to go with Megatron…

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Hey there!! I hope this question isn't too morbid, but im writing a story where prisoners are often sold to this circus who puts on shows for aristocrats/basically anyone else who can afford it but the prisoners are like....literally torturing each other and being tortured for entertainment. I've never really been someone whos into horror/thrillers, so im not sure where to look to research it. I was wondering if you had any suggestions for performances which would be morbidly entertaining for a fucked up audience, but also lethal and deadly for the "entertainers" themselves? (Or if it'd be easier to suggest media to research this type of topic, i'd love that as well!)

Thank you so much, i love your blog!!

Writing Notes: Dangerous Performances

Hi! You could draw inspiration from dangerous types of performances throughout history, some of which were for the entertainment of the ruling class. You can consider altering them to better fit your story. Here are some examples I found for you:

Though many ancient Romans lived very hard lives, there were still plenty of options for entertainment. This ranged from music and theatre to more bloody past times like the gladiator arena.

One of the famous figures associated with ancient Rome was the gladiator. The image of brawny warriors battling to death in gigantic marble amphitheaters for the amusement of a rabidly cheering crowd was indeed powerful.

The Roman Arena was a place of entertainment for Romans. The games were often brutal and bloody. At first they were mostly put on for memorials or funerals, but later they were put on for many occasions including birthdays and victories. The games were paid for by wealthy individuals and were used for that person to gain popularity with the people. Julius Caesar became very popular by putting on large public games and theatre.

Animals in the Arena: Sometimes the games would last all day. At the start of the day they would use exotic wild animals such as bears, lions, rhinos and elephants. Sometimes the animals would fight each other, sometimes the animals would be hunted by huntsmen, and sometimes criminals would be thrown into the arena to be killed by wild animals.

The ordered beauty of the Colosseum is in stark contrast to the murderous encounters that took place within it. Bloody Spectacles at Ancient Rome’s Colosseum:

Staged Naval Battles

Exotic Animal Fights

Forest Hunting

Human Executions

Gladiator Battles

Roman boxing. Far different than the boxing developed by the Greeks, was considered more of a gladiatorial show than an athletic contest. While the crowds were smaller than at the amphitheater and circus, boxing was an important part of public entertainment. Unlike Greek boxers, who wore leather thongs around their knuckles for protection and performed for prizes at the prestigious Panhellenic games, Romans used gloves with pieces of metal placed around the knuckles (caestus) to inflict the most damage possible. Moreover, there was no time limit or weight classification. Proclaiming a winner resulted from either a knockout or the conceding of defeat by one of the boxers.

The oldest games in Rome were the chariot races. Typical chariots used for the races were drawn by a team of four horses (quadriga). The races required two long tracks and two 180-degree turns. Like gladiatorial shows and boxing, races were extremely dangerous, since chariots often collided or went out of control. If a driver fell out of his chariot, he could easily be dragged along or trampled to death by the horses. Nevertheless, there was no shortage of drivers, as eager young charioteers risked their lives for reward and recognition.

Spectacle was an integral part of life in the Roman world. Some forms of spectacle—triumphal processions, aristocratic funerals, and public banquets, for example—took as their backdrop the city itself.

Others were held in purpose-built spectator buildings: theatres for plays and other scenic entertainment, amphitheaters for gladiatorial combats and wild beast shows, stadia for athletic competitions, and circuses for chariot races. As a whole, this pervasive culture of spectacle served both as a vehicle for self-advertisement by the sociopolitical elite and as a means of reinforcing the shared values and institutions of the entire community.

“In the end, the games were about othering people and dehumanizing them,” Nathan Elkins says, deputy director of the American Numismatic Society. “It was about watching and enjoying somebody else suffer because Romans felt they were better and more privileged.”

Thanks to their favoured position in life and the labour of the peasants on their estates, nobles in an English medieval castle had plenty of leisure hours.

Tournaments

Gave knights the chance to hone their skills with horses and weapons in a relatively safe and controlled environment, although there could be injuries and fatalities despite the precautions.

The competitions took two formats, either a mêlée, which was a mock cavalry battle where knights had to capture each other for a ransom or the joust where a single rider armed with a lance charged at an opponent who was similarly armed.

To minimise the risk of injury, weapons were adapted such as the fitting of a three-pointed head to the lance in order to reduce the impact and swords were blunted (rebated). Such weapons became known as 'arms of courtesy' or à plaisance.

The popular Round Table tournaments involved knights dressing up as characters from the legends of King Arthur who then jousted and feasted in costume.

Watched by an audience which included the local aristocratic ladies, motivation to perform and display chivalry was high.

There were also prizes such as a gold crown, jewels, or a prized hawk so that many knights made a living doing a tour of tournament events across Europe.

Even if a local tournament was not perhaps a regular event, one could at least practice for them.

A common device to hone one's lancing skills was the quintain - a rotating arm with a shield at one end and a weight at the other. A knight had to hit the shield and keep riding on to avoid being hit in the back by the weight as it swung around.

Another device was a suspended ring which the knight had to catch and remove with the tip of his lance.

Sources: 1 2 3 4 5 6 ⚜ More: Writing Notes & References

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