#to their first soccer matches

[partybarty]

I want to set things straight, I am not a soccer fan. I barely understand the rules. However, I keep finding myself in situations where I am the most knowledgeable person on soccer in the group while watching soccer. Therefore, everyone thinks I know and like soccer. This is false.

[gunsatthaphan]

my favorite dramatic besties 🧡

[narryffdreaming]

what happened at the Olympics this year only proves to me that the internet and social media are going to take all the fun out of these events. people might come at me with a sense of justice and argue about who deserves this or that, but the thing is that what makes sport SO intense and SO good is that it involves countless emotions as it is happening. while you are watching it / living it / experiencing it. when you can't celebrate a victory or the score of a point bc you're afraid that the internet will tell you hours or days later that it wasn't, in fact, a victory/a point or whatever, you're taking the entire emotion out of it and therefore ruining the whole thing.

yes, it sucks when injustice happens. and yes, athletes go through unfair results a lot of times. but once the game/match/competition is over it should be over. and thats it.

[pernillecfcw]

nkunku and guiu on the score sheet for chelsea and we are only 21 minutes in 💙👏🏼

[symbioticsimplicity]

Really wished they'd explored the ramifications of sticking a Victorian (Spike) and an Irishman (Angel) in a house together. Really wish this had been cited as causing more of the animosity between them.

[stairnaheireann]

#OTD in 1860 – Birth of playwright, folklorist, founder of The Gaelic League and the first president of Éire, Douglas Hyde, in Castlerea, Co Roscommon.

“As our language wanes and dies, the golden legends of the far-off centuries fade and pass away. No one sees their influence upon culture; no one sees their educational power.” –Douglas Hyde Douglas Hyde is born at Longford House in Castlerea, Co Roscommon. He was an ardent supporter of the Irish language and was one of the founders of the Gaelic League in 1893, an organisation dedicated to the…

[arts-publisher]

[hereliesmara]

i have had to fuck up my sleep schedule and eating patterns twice in the last 12 hours because people in my family couldnt take 60 minutes out of time to help my sibling move :|

[halechief]

feels like a waste it’s taken me this long to get into s*ccer

[bulldog-butch]

im honestly gutted for that zambian player holy shit

[kay9leo]

At First Glance... Part VII

Chapter 6 <<< ||| Chapter 7 ||| >>> Chapter 8

...On Hippogriffs

It was by chance he recognized the exact location of the final piece of the triptych.

During their pause on their friendship, Sebastian found that the third best thing to clear his head aside from talking to MC or to Ominis and dueling was to take his broom and fly off.

While Imelda might focus more on breaking her latest speeding record and MC would focus on whatever misadventure she could get herself into (that girl don’t know the meaning of taking it easy), Sebastian couldn’t care less about either thing. The thing that he cared about was feeling the wind against his hair and the cool breeze against his face.

It was almost meditative.

He could always count on mindlessly flying to keep his mind off of things…such as his wayward friendwho decided that apparently getting in trouble with Garreth in potions was more fun than hanging out with him.

Yet, somehow when he spotted MC leaving the dungeons with Weasley after a Saturday’s morning detention of scrubbing caldrons clean and prepping materials for the next potion’s class –all done by hand mind you– with a fat smile before laughing at something Weasley said, Sebastian found that he couldn’t even be in the same building as the two.

So, he took off on his broom and started flying.

Usually when things bothered him, the first person he would go to was to MC to figure out how to resolve it. Then it would be Ominis –if it was something he didn’t want MC to worry about, like his thoughts on her.

Sebastian didn’t dare to bother Anne. Not with this.

And if he was being honest to himself, not since she was cursed.

Before (because there was always a before when things were better), Anne was always his go-to person. The person who knew how to handle things with a mischievous plan that would work nearly 75% of the time. His twin knew him better than anyone else…

…Until she got cursed.

Then it was as if a new person replaced her.

A more docile, behaved worried girl instead of his headstrong, playful, cheeky sister.

Telling his problems to Anne would only make things worse. She didn’t need to worry her pretty, mischievous head over him. It wasn’t the first time he kept her in the dark over something like this.

Lying to her however, made his stomach feel like it was filled with lead as he told her another made-up story over what the three of them were doing.

Anne SHOULDN’T feel the need to worry about her healthy twin brother when she was the one who was cursed. Who consistently needed bedrest. Who got weaker each time he saw her. He couldn’t bear to place weight on her weaken shoulders about his problems when half the battle of fighting a curse was having an optimistic attitude towards it.

If his sister couldn’t muster the strength to be optimistic about a cure, when their Uncle kept saying that it was pointless, that curing her was a lost cause, then he’ll be the one to do it.

He’ll be strongly optimistic for the both of them!

And if lying to her about his non-hiatuses friendship with MC would make her feel better, why should he tell her the truth if it will only make her feel worse?

Anne was over the moon to see that he made a new friend.

That it wasn’t just him and Ominis and an abandoned Undercroft.

Or that he wasn’t wasting his youth away trying to find an unknown cure.

Anne was happy that for once he was actually sneaking out to go on adventures, spending time at Hogsmeade, drinking butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks, dueling for fun, talking at dinner, playing with beasts, traveling over the Highlands, pranking the prefects, playing cards, exploding snaps, Jacks, gobstones, manhunt, quidditch, soccer, quodpot, chicke–

Basically, anything that involved Sebastain acting like the adolescent he was instead of behaving like he was some old, grayed hair wrinkly olive-spotted researcher–healer with his nose buried in a book. Anne had countlessly teased him that he was becoming an old fart out in Hogwarts quicker than she was in her bed at Feldcroft.

Then all her teasing stopped when he met MC.

He sent letter after letter about their daily activities and mishaps they got into…minus a few parts…

…Such as fighting goblins…

…Or MC’s ancient magic that attracted trouble like moonlight to mooncalves…

…speaking of which, did MC remember to feed her mooncalves with that new feed they created in Beasts class?

He huffed and rolled his eyes.

She probably has Weasley helping her this time. The two seem pretty chummy for potions partner–

His train of thought stopped when he spotted two hippogriffs above him, front talons locked between them, tumbling and cartwheeling down.

A Death Spiral. Sebastian thought to himself with bated breath. They’re completing their courtship ritual.

“The reason why hippogriffs feathers are often used as part of an exchange in marriage ceremonies in some cultures is due to their symbol of love and companionship. According to records, hippogriffs are born of an unlikely union of male griffin and a mare. As you can recall, it isn’t uncommon for a griffin to prey on horse, but even love can tame the wildest.”

Sebastian recalled the words Prof. Howin lectured during class as he watched the pair fall in front of him on his broom.

“This extraordinary joining of two species that are typically seen as adversaries embodies the concept of love overcoming barriers and defying expectations. And their connection to love symbolizes the transformative and often unpredictable nature of romantic relationships, highlighting the profound impact that love can have on overcoming obstacles together. They are portrayed as a faithful and devoted companions who can form meaningful bonds with those who approach it with respect and humility.”

The two hippogriffs held tight, neither letting go, zooming down on a crash course to earth, each trusting the other on when to let go.

“When it comes to the end of their courtship ritual, they will perform a death spiral, similar to eagles, in which they lock talons and spiral downwards. It is a test to determine each other’s fitness and trustworthiness of a potential mate.” Prof. Howin stated.

“Isn’t that dangerous?”

“Isn’t there a risk that they might die?”

Some of his classmates asked.

“It is. It isn’t surprising to see a few juveniles dead either from a failed courtship.” Prof. Howin said as she petted one. The white hippogriff keened with each stroke Prof. Howin gave on her head. “Remember class, don’t let their size fool you. The female hippogriffs like this one here are larger than their male counterparts. They are just like birds in that aspect. Now look at their wings here. The primary feathers of their wings are used for the exchange before the rings during the marriage ritual. It symbolizes–

“Then why risk it?” Sebastian thought out loud.

Professor Howin glanced at him.

“I apologize for my outburst, but why? Why would you risk your life for a potential mate like that when it can also lead you to death?” Sebastian had a strong sense of self-preservation, especially since Anne was cursed a few weeks ago.

Professor Howin shock her head with a smile.

“Ahh, spoken like someone whose never been in love before. Do you want to know what’s the prize they get if they survive Mr. Sallow?”

Sebastian nodded.

Just when it looked like they were too cocky, too prideful for either to yield first, they both let go, flying parallel to each other a few feet above ground. They then landed nearby the edge of the forest before they started preening each other, like a couple of lovebirds.

He couldn’t help but smile.

“The prize that is won from a successful death spiral is a mate for life. A partner you can always rely on Mr. Sallow. Surely as someone who’s a fine duelist like yourself would know what a difference it makes to have a partner to watch your back during paired fights. And now, imagine having a fine partner like that to help carry your burdens. A partner who you could also share your good times with as well.” Professor Howin stated with a smile.

Sebastian couldn’t.

Sebastian stood seated, hovering far above the newly mated pair of Hippogriffs, watching them as they nuzzled each other before flying off. That’s when he recognized a familiar landscape in the direction that they flew towards.

Looks like we might not have to fight that much to the next triptych piece. Not with that Floo spot available nearby. Sebastian smirked before he felt an ache in his heart. The corners of his lips fell.

It doesn’t matter. I bet Weasley’s keeping her happily entertain to even remember about me. He snorted before he flew back to the castle.

That evening, he wrote Anne another letter about his encounter with the paired hippogriff’s death spiral. He described the awe that appeared in MC’s eyes as the hippogriff separated in time before nuzzling each other like lovebirds back in the ground before she shared a fun fact about how the females ‘griffs tended to be bigger than the male ones before he joked that big thing comes in small packages with a wink.

Not that his own package was small mind you…at least from what he figured…

…So, what if his own package was smaller than the British average of 5.17 inches? He still had good 5.05 inches on him.

Either way, at least that joke will for certain make Anne roll her eyes before writing something about him being a scoundrel and to stop treating MC as if she was one of the boys.

Then Sebastain would roll his eyes and reply that he is aware that MC is a girl thank you very much. Why else would he be bothered by the fact that the other boys in their year were being a bit too friendly with her? What guy would wear a citrus orange perfume? Or even make crown flowers?

For all the tomfoolery, tomboyish attitude and trousers that MC would wear, Sebastian was deeply aware that at the end of the day, MC is a girl.

A girl who had no idea how much her absence in their friendship had hurt him.

Either way, that crude joke should be enough to distract Anne from looking too deep into the details of why he hasn’t written much about MC recently.

Anne was happy to see that Sebastian living his life for once.

He wasn’t going to break that illusion.

Sebastian just wished he could’ve lived that lie he written with MC.

So, after mailing the insincere letter to his twin and seeing MC and Weasley still being buddy-buddy after their shared morning detention with the addition of Natty at dinner, Sebastian went to the Undercroft to review the second triptych painting.

The landmarks he saw earlier matched to what he seen in the last canvas piece they found. Looking at it gave him the same feeling just like it did the first time when he recognized the landmarks seen in the first and only canvas piece.

It was excitement, determination and hope.

It was an adventure waiting. A piece to understanding MC's ancient magic. A great mystery the two were going to solve…

…a mystery he ended up shelfing when he realized that that meant he would need to talk to MC. That he would need to yield.

But that was yesterday.

Before he dreamt of his mother.

Before he mailed out the apologize letter with an offer to help find the last triptych piece this Sunday morning.

Even if they disagreed about certain things like her goblin friend, he would always have her back. It didn’t matter the length of the pause of their friendship or that glare MC threw at him that spelt murder when she finally arrived at the stated location to meet him.

Sebastian will always have her back.

Just like she had his in every single duel, challenge or fight of their lives as together, they razed down goblins, Ashwinders and poachers who thought they could destroy the world without any consequences.

Like they did with his.

Nothing could defeat them.

Not when they can relay on each other like a mated pair of hippogriffs.

…

But it seems as if that small pause, that little hiatus in their friendship was enough for them to change while apart from each other.

...

Chapter 6 <<< ||| Chapter 7 ||| >>> Chapter 8

[partybarty]

do you cry watching sports or are you a loser

[queeranarchism]

For those wondering what's happening in Amsterdam right now and hearing media bullshit about 'pogroms', let me break it down for ya:

Sunday, November 3rd: During the weekend, Israeli fans of Maccabi Tel Aviv arrive in Amsterdam in advance of the soccer match against Ajax to take place on Thurday. On the first night, a man wearing a kufiya is attacked and beaten up so bad that he is hospitalized. The incident is ignored by the media and the police.

Wednesday, November 6th: Maccabi fans remove Palestinian flags from buildings, burn the flags and intimidate the inhabitants. A taxi driver is attacked with metal chains. The police watch and do nothing. Fellow taxi drivers have to come to the victim's rescue. The incidents are ignored by the media.

Thursday afternoon, November 7th: Maccabi fans hold a pro-IDF rally, carrying IDF emblems and shouting 'destroy the arabs' and 'we will fuck the arabs'. Fans also return to further intimidate the inhabitants of buildings that they had targeted on Wednesday. The incident are ignored by the media and the police.

Thursday evening, November 7th: Maccabi fans are shouting the same slogans and intimidating people of color while moving through the Amsterdam metro, while other fans simultaneously disrupt a vigil for the victims of the floods in Spain. The incidents are ignored by the media and the police.

Thursday night, November 7th: Amsterdam youths successfully fight back against the Israeli's that have been terrorizing their city. Maccabi fans that had gathered for another night of violence are driven off in all directions. Some find shelter with the police.

Friday morning, November 8th: Ignoring everything that has happened before, the city council and the media go wild, declaring that a 'pogrom' has taken place against 'Jews' and that 'violent antisemitism' is making Amsterdam unsafe. Maccabi fans that were shouting 'death to arabs' a few hours ealier are giving teary-eyed interviews claiming they were afraid for their lives and were targetted for being Jewish. The city council bans all forms of protest for 3 days.

Saturday morning, November 9th: a group of Amsterdam antizionist Jews is forced to cancel their Kristallnacht/Novemberprogromme 1938 commemoration because of threats of violence from Maccabi fans. This is ignored by the media and the police.

[pernillecfcw]

PALMER🥶🥶

His first senior england goal buzzing for him 💙

[lumibuns-blog]

Can’t stop thinking about how much Simon “Ghost” Riley loves his American girlfriend.

Unlike the other 141 boys he wouldn’t poke fun at you or tease you about the different words you use. Kyle loves to correct you,

“Whens the soccer game on tonight?”

“Its football love, not soccer, ‘cause you kick the ball.”

“You kick the ball in American football as well.”

“Yeah but...ours is better”

Johnny’s a tease

“Have you seen my swimming suit?”

“You wear a suit to go swimming?”

“I’m not calling it a costume”

“Well it sure as hell isn’t a bloody suit”

Even Price gets in on it by pretending not to hear you,

“Can you grab some chips from the kitchen?”

“Hm? Sorry dear can’t hear ya’”

“Grab me some chips!”

“Gunna’ have'ta repeat that”

“....crisps”

“There ya’ go, really outta speak up more sweetheart”

Never mind the fact he was right beside you on the couch.

But Simon, Simon is different. Never once has he corrected or teased you, to the point where its become a bit of a hindrance.

“Can you stop by the gas station on your way home?”

And he’ll just stare at you, an almost blank expression on his face, only the fidgeting of his fingers give way to what he’s thinking.

“The petrol shop Si’”

“Right.” 

Is it because he doesn’t care? Or maybe he’s too frightened he’ll scare you away if he corrects you? Whatever it is he’ll never say, but one thing is for certain, he’s absolutely elated when you start to pick up the British dialect.

You tell people your boyfriend is a leftenant instead of a luitenant and he’s looking at you like you hung the very stars in the sky.

Ask for a “wife beater��� while pointing at the bottles of Stella Artois in his fridge and he swears his heart just skipped a beat (despite the crude connotations of the nickname)

Ask him to pick up ‘Maccies for you bolth on the way home and he almost causes a 20 car pileup because he has to hide his burning face.

Tell him you like the black jumper he’s wearing and theres three more in the online cart already.

And when you start swearing like a “proper brit” he’s ready to get down on one knee. He hears you mutter “bloody hell” from across the flat as you listen to news report an expected  10cm of rain for today and for the first time in his life he’s thanking god Manchester is such a dreary place.

You’ve become part of his life, he hadn’t scared you off, you hadn’t gotten tired of him. You wanted to be here, you wanted him. You’ve been here long enough to pick it up, you’ve spent enough time together even your words are beginning to match each other, and theres nothing in the world that could make him happier. So he’ll never once correct you or tease you when you ask to go on a vacation even if he’s blindly nodding along to your requests and scurrying off to the bathroom later to look it up and figure out you wanted to go on holiday with him. Cursing under his breath while he fishes his phone from the sink because he dropped it in his shock at the revelation you wanted to go on holiday with him. Give him two days and he’s already bought the tickets

Sorry for the lack of posting! Schools been getting busy and I'm working on getting a draft of a book ready to send to a publisher so it's been a bit hectic but I absolutely love posting for you guys here on tumblr (srsly all your comments make my day) so I'm going to try and keep posting as regularly as I can! working on a longer chapter for my Ghost and Soap's roomie series rn so that should be out somewhat soon! thank you all so so much for your support.

[stairnaheireann]

#OTD in 1860 – Birth of playwright, folklorist, founder of The Gaelic League and the first president of Éire, Douglas Hyde, in Castlerea, Co Roscommon.

“As our language wanes and dies, the golden legends of the far-off centuries fade and pass away. No one sees their influence upon culture; no one sees their educational power.” –Douglas Hyde Douglas Hyde is born at Longford House in Castlerea, Co Roscommon. He was an ardent supporter of the Irish language and was one of the founders of the Gaelic League in 1893, an organisation dedicated to the…