#biggest goal to the end of time is

[artheresy]

I can't believe it took me this long to finally get the 5 star selector from the standard

But hey now I've got Himeko now idc if she's not the best :D only one I'm missing is Gepard, I got e0 for Welt, Bailu, Yanqing (who I think I got Saturday on Sparkle's banner) and Clara and then e3 Bronya

Just need Gepard!!

[crunchchute]

My Sam & Max cosplay I debuted at a local con during the weekend!

[brittlebutch]

actually it's kind of funny how people will say Alex's fatal flaw is that he 'doesn't ask for help' and that it's his determination to handle things on his own that leads to his deterioration and eventual death when his whole introduction to the present-day timeline was a very literal cry for help that simply went ignored

[aro-aizawa]

i swear the absolute HEIGHT of total happiness is when a long fic wraps up with a wonderfully happy ending

[vigilantaes]

would it break her heart if she didn't get to inherit the cowl? a thousand percent. my canon has her taking over ultimately but there's definitely universes where she doesn't and that's rouuugghhh on her

[getting-messi]

I thought people were just joking but there actually seems to be a large number of footy fans that think Haaland is Messi’s biggest threat to ballon d’or this season……😳

[amildlyspookydeer]

*stomps out onto grass and wags cane in air* you kids and your live action remakes of disney movies!!! ooohhh!!!!

[solardistress]

i need . to never get work again . i fucking suck.

[ladyhavilliard]

i just watched miraculous season 5 finale and i have thoughts and a lot of them are not positive

[moongreenlight]

Headcanons for Captain John Price and his VERY young housewife.

Mdni. Nsfw below cut.

Like unsure if you’ve graduated university yet young. Like he’s gotta be 13 years your senior at minimum. And he eats that shit up. Loves the way people stare and whisper when he parades you around, massive hand planted just above your ass

He’s like Simon in that he prefers you stay at home where he can keep you safe. Hires maids and housekeepers and cooks so your only responsibility is lounge and look pretty. You’re his biggest trophy. Like a prize show cat. Keeping you groomed and pampered and happy. Purring into his hand the moment he comes home.

Lowkey gets so sour when you send the cook home for the day and make dinner yourself. Not that you aren’t a fantastic cook, he just doesn’t want you to lift a finger. Doesn’t like the idea of you accidentally cutting yourself with a kitchen knife or burning yourself on a hot stove. Wants you to just be a trophy on his shelf.

Doesn’t even like the idea of you showering by yourself. Gives you bubble baths so that he can be sure you’re perfectly preened because obviously he’s the only one that knows exactly how to take care of you.

LOOOOOVES that even though you’re so young you fit in perfectly with the other housewives in the neighborhood. Going to spin classes in the early morning, book club, brunch, shopping at the most expensive grocery stores.

Literally treats you like a pedigreed cat. Weekly manicures and pedicures that he’s put his card on file for. You just walk in and they know you’re Price’s wife and that your appointments are prepaid.

And pre-tipped obvi. GENEROUS with his money when it comes to you. And there’s probably a note under your profile that you’re to be paid careful attention. God forbid they accidentally graze your skin with the nail file and hurt his pretty kitty.

Facials and hair appointments biweekly that are the exact same way.

Your picture is posted at the gate of the base because all the guards are expected to know their chain of command and wave them in without question. He just loves that your status as his wife is enough to get you the VIP treatment you deserve.

His ultimate goal is to make you a young mom. Even though you’ve only been married for a year and you’re like 22 he’s actually so pissed that you’re not bouncing a baby on your hip.

Bet he loves the idea of his kids getting bullied because their mom is hot.

Brings you around base for the sole purpose of showing off. Purposely leaves his lunch at home just so you come see him.

The first time you ever met the task force boys he’d asked you to bring something DUMB up. Like a water bottle or something. Who cares. You end up accidentally interrupting the meeting they’re having and Price pulls you onto his lap before introducing you as his wife. Soap and Gaz are kicking each other under the table. Swear to god Gaz does that cartoon gulp. Soap looks like he’s about to explode.

Probably calls you his ‘old lady’ but with the most disgustingly smug smirk on his face.

Btw if you even care you’re such a trophy to him and he’s so invested in his team that he wants to share you with the guys. There’s no ‘I’ in team. So confident in knowing that he’s the only one that can truly pamper you properly that he doesn’t mind using you as leverage to get them to perform well.

Oh Soap did really well on the last mission? He can come to dinner with you guys. Price will dress you up nice and let Soap wrap his arm around your waist when you walk in. Then Price will invite him back for a nightcap and instruct you to drop down between his thighs. Coaching you through the process of palming him through his trousers, unzipping them, springing his cock free from his underwear, taking just the tip into your mouth. Being soooo nice about letting you take your time adjusting your throat. “It’s different, doll. I know. Being so good.” Until he finally snaps and fists the back of your hair, pushing you all the way down so that the room is echoing your lewd, wet gags and moans. He doesn’t let Soap come in your mouth, though. That’s a luxury only he can afford.

And you’re soooooooo happy to do whatever John asks. He treats you so well. The least you can do is oblige his requests every once in a while. He asks so little of you. Plus no other cock compares to his. Even after getting fucked dumb by Ghost, drooling down your chin, you find it in you to look for him. Pupils blown-out, whining softly up to him. Weak and slurring “Need you, daddy. Need you.”

That last part is only if you care tho. I’m normal about it. It’s fine.

[jeremy-pakhitou]

I love Crocodile x Dragon because it only makes sense to a very few crazy people ///

Keep reading for my head canons/storyline (spoilers Headegg)

I'm rolling with a transmasc Crocodile headcanon who was part of the revolutionaries (or what precedes it) and he ended up leaving after loosing his hand in a conflict that could have been avoided. He wants to overthrow the World Government but he thinks Dragon is too soft and slow and that's why he'll try to take over Alabasta and create Cross Guild later on. He still very much wants to destroy the government but he wants to be a pirate not a revolutionary. He's also Luffy's second dad hehe

He met Dragon in his early twenties. They had a pretty big age gap but when it comes to power imbalance Dragon was not winning. Crocodile was savage and ready to shoot a bullet between your eyes if you annoyed him whereas Dragon was bad at communicating and a bit creepy at first when he was just a big softie with great goals and ideals. He was also really chill with queer people as some of his best friends are Queen Emporio Ivankov and my favorite transfem egg : Vegapunk ! (but that's a theory for another time krkr)

In the end Crocodile became attached to this big idealist with a pretty pleasant personality while Dragon was fascinated by the cold and intense Crocodile. But their relation didn't last very long and Crocodile was fed up with the revolutionary army and took his leave. They both didn't really have another relationship after and none of them really took care of the offspring their union created. (Dragon was looking at him from afar and Crocodile completely lost track of him but was reminded sometimes that this child existed, he only realized his son was Luffy at Impel Down/Marinford)

Anyway I love this ship because it's really the biggest white canvas, we know nothing about Dragon and Crocodile's past and I love to make up things. I love how Crocodile is the melting pot for theories too (is he the former Kuja impress ?? Is he Whiteboard son ?? Rocks D Xebec's ??? (I like this one because we don't know sh*t about Xebec either ))

If you read all of this damn thanks first + don't hesitate to share your headcanons you probably have some fjdkdl

[luviestarz]

park jisung fic recs!

✰ drunk jisung is clingy… and kiss-driven - @asteroidsung (you didn’t take bestfriend!jisung to be an affectionate drunk, thinking he would be the type to be sleepy and quiet. clearly, you’re mistaken. and oh how good it feels to be wrong.)

✰ Heart Band-Aids - @tynct (you and jisung separate from the others at an amusement, and he buys you heart band-aids)

✰ HAUNT ME, BABY! — PJS - @ukiyoexo (when you see a ghost, you’re supposed to be scared right? yeah, that’s what jisung thought too until he met you. a night spent in boredom leads you to lighting random candles and attempting to summon a ghost. you never expected it to work — or for the spirit to be so cute.)

✰ 8 letters | park jisung - @xiaodejunletsact (4 years ago, you and jisung’s long term friendship came to an abrupt end. now in senior year, the two of you find yourselves being forced together again by your mothers. suddenly, jisung begins to ask himself what is more important: his reputation or you.)

✰ sweeter than honey. - @luvdsc (you and jisung are too busy being the biggest simps for each other that neither one realizes that, well, both of you are the biggest simps for each other. or alternatively, diamonds (and park jisung) are a girl’s best friend.)

✰ fwb!park jisung x reader - @jenosbigtoe (fwb!jisung but he desperately wants to make you his so he goes the extra mile to show u how much he really wants you)

✰ perv!jisung x reader, braces - @neocentral

✰ Too Young - @loudstan (You thought avoiding Jisung after what happened during his first rut would make the problem go away (SPOILER ALERT: it didn't.)

✰ at midnight with you - @hyuckbeam (your boyfriend just recently got his driver's license, and boy, was he adamant to take you for a ride (with you being just as eager as him).

✰ DO IT AGAIN - @taexoxosgf (your brother’s best friend can never get you alone. that’s why he won’t miss an opportunity— even if your brother’s on the other side of the walls.)

✰ dance practice ; 박지성 - @martiniblues (with you and jisung’s time running thin due to his schedules, you decide to go visit him at practice. when the two of you finally have some time alone, jisung thinks this is the perfect time to mess with you.)

✰ texts w/ bf!jisung! - @haespoir

✰ flirty bf texts. - @ohmygs-blog

✰ FULL MOON — PARK JISUNG - @moonjella (your boyfriend, jisung has his rut and has been avoiding you all day. for the first time his rut has aligned with a full moon making it much more powerful than usual. he's afraid of hurting you, but you show him just how strong you can be and how much of him you can take.)

✰ SCORE THAT GOAL! — smau - @lqfiles (after your college had announced that all the students were required to join a club and attend it twice a week, you were planning on either a) dropping out, or b) join the art club and pretend to be sick most of the times. that was before you discovered that park jisung is a long time member of the football team. change in plans: you LOVE football.)

✰ Teach Me || P.JS - @ihaechans (It's been about ten months since you and Jisung started dating, and not once has he fucked you properly. Yes, he's fucked you multiple times, but you're always on top riding him, or simply using him as you please, leaving him no room to fuck you how he wants to. Finally, he musters the courage to talk to you about it, and the outcome makes him wish he'd done it sooner.)

✰ jealousy | pjs - @heyjwi (your boyfriend loved watching you perform but today something was different. that angered expression and glaring eyes, what’s wrong with him?)

[agendabymooner]

SOMETHING OVERWHELMING !!! MAX V. X FEM!READER (18+)

summary: max wanted her to do a lot of things and he enacted on his goal by overwhelming her.

💌 re:moony's planner request: "overstimulation with max please, like dom!max but body worship ✨."

content warning: smut under the cut (minors dni!), use of explicit language, pwp, overstimulation, squirting, praise kink, dom-ish!max, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), p in v, unprotected sex (wear a glove before making love), i have written ✨fuckall✨

note: mmmm yes my biggest enemy rn— i did not do the body worship part (i made it praise instead 🫶). live laugh love him tho. enjoy xx (also! please don't hesitate to give me your opinion or talk to me!!!)

something sinful (smut) masterlist

a - n masterlist // o - z masterlist

if you’d like to get on one of my taglists, check this post out

his ego was at an all time high. 

but so was her mind. she could’ve sworn that the throbbing she could hear wasn’t adrenaline pumping through her heart but rather her cunt that had been overstimulated by max. 

her tear-stained cheeks were red, her hickey littered neck and collarbones were turning purple from the addictive touch of max’s lips as she squirmed under him. 

he was smiling like a maniac, his fingers curling up against her spongy walls as the speed of his thrusting increased. 

she supposed that being a three-time world champion would do this to a man. not only would his head grow big as he celebrated his victory— his body would also be on fire as he fucked her relentlessly. 

“m- max,” she cried out, her hand trying to push his wrist away as he smacked her insistent fingers slightly. she babbled at the overwhelming feeling that rose in her stomach, “it’s too much!” 

“c’mon, baby,” he murmured, pressing a sweet kiss on her lips as he goaded her into another orgasm, “you’ve got more.”

“n- no! no more,” she replied with a high pitched squeal as her hips rutted against his fingers. “‘s too much! i- hah~ fuck!” 

he chuckled darkly, watching her cunt produce liquid as it trickled out of her. she squirted and whined loudly as the red bull driver smirked.

max tutted, “see? you’re such a good girl. look at this pretty cunt of yours.” he leaned over and traced over her glistening folds with his tongue, humming at the taste of her. “such a sweet taste, baby. fuck. i could fucking eat you all day.”

“mmm,” she murmured, her hips twitching as max continued to devour her cunt like it’s his last meal. feeling her clit being stimulated once more, she let out a soft whine as she told him incoherently, “m- maxie, ‘m cummin’ again. fuck.” 

it was as if max couldn’t even hear her, getting lost in a trance as he inserted three fingers inside her and fucked her once more. 

he almost moaned at the feeling of her cunt tightening around his thrusting fingers, vibrations sending her to a haywire as she mumbled, “oh- oh!” her mumbling turned into screaming, clutching the sheets under her as pressure built up in her stomach. 

she wasn’t even certain how she got into this predicament. all she knew was that, midway through the season, she promised to be at his mercy when he received his trophy by the end. 

she didn’t think that he would go this route: his hips rutting down the mattress as he sought for friction, his mouth and chin glistening as she came all over his face again and again. 

she was expecting him to deny her of everything— like a king of the world— yet here he was on his stomach like a man starving for pussy.

he growled almost immediately when she tried to push his hand away again, his thrusts were getting faster and deeper as squelching noises filled the room. 

her mewls and the filthy sounds of her cunt and his fingers were the only thing that they both could hear— she almost wanted to die of embarrassment and humiliation.

while he… he fucking loved it. 

he wanted her to cum all over him. he wanted her to scream, to whine and to have her eyes rolling back until she saw nothing but white. he wanted her to cry because she was overstimulated. 

he maneuvered her around until she had her back arched and ass up, easily sliding his cock inside her as she sobbed. his hips snapped against hers while his cock drilled inside her cunt easily, filling her to the brim with his girth and length as she let out a cry of pleasure. 

“fuck, schat,” max groaned from behind her, his eyes peering down to watch his cock slide in and out of her hole. “you are such a good fucking girl to me.” 

she only let out a whimper, her walls clenching around his cock as he continued to praise her, “taking me so well with this pussy of yours. takin’ everything you’re given without complaining— you are such an angel.” 

“mmm…max, ‘m gonna cum again,” she dragged out her last word, her tears staining the sheets as much as her cum did. she mewled, “fuck, maxie! ‘s too much!” 

“keep cumming for me, liefje,” max demanded, the tight grip that his hands had on her hips while he fucked her contrasted with his use of term of endearment, “cum all over my cock.”

he could see his cock with ring her cum all around it as he continued thrusting, giving himself a smile of excitement as she came all over his cock as he demanded. 

“see? you listen then,” max crooned, pulling her up against his chest as he bottomed out inside of her once more. 

she reached her high for the eighth time, her walls stilling around his girth. max tilted her head, kissing her as she moaned softly at the feeling of cumming while his cock remained inside of her. 

“let’s see if we can give you more before i fill this pussy of yours with my cum,” max chuckled, making her squirm and mewl. “can’t wait to see my masterpiece, schatje.” 

♡ moony’s reminder 🅶 (general): @hiraethrhapsody @avaleineandafryingpan @topguncultleader @enhacolor @roseandtulips @woweewoowa @magnummagnussen @happy-nico @architect-2015

♡   moony’s reminder 🅴 (explicit edition): @glitterf1 @savrose129

[hazard-symbols-that-fuck-hard]

Okay time for the PBS Kids essay

Read it under the cut!

:readmore:

In 1968, before there was PBS Kids proper, there was Mr. Roger’s Neighborhood. While it came several decades before the children’s block, it laid the foundation for the themes and values present in every facet of the network’s history.

Mr. Roger famously hated children’s programming at the time. To him, it all was droll and useless. But he didn’t dissuade the medium entirely— he saw potential. Potential that led to a few smaller television jobs, and eventually the creation of Mr. Roger’s neighborhood.

Rogers didn’t invent educational TV for children, but he did perfect it. He poured real heart and soul into probably the most sincere, heartfelt program in history.

Honestly, he could have his own essay. The more things you learn about the real man of Mr. Rogers, the more you’ll like him.

Anyway, the biggest thing that makes PBS different is the fact that it earns money through grants, fundraisers, and private donors— not through sponsorships and merchandise sales. This way, PBS Kids can push programming that it feels is important, rather than programming that merely sells well.

This also means PBS is less afraid of pushing social boundaries. Money doesn’t go away when their shows become subjects of debate— and Mr. Rogers took full advantage of this.

For context, this was 1969. The Jim Crow era had just barely, barely ended. Pool segregation was still very much legal.

Mr. Rogers sharing a pool and a towel with the Black Mr. Clemmons was a pretty big deal at the time— especially on a show made for children.

Rogers was far from the untouchable sacred cow of today. When he was alive, he had a large number of detractors. Let’s just say that scene didn’t fly nicely by everyone.

Just one year after the debut of Mr. Roger’s came Sesame Street.

While Mr. Roger’s was made for all children, Sesame Street had the explicit goal of supplementing the education of underserved communities— especially inner-city Black (and later Latino) children.

While it was made to be accessible to children of all races and income levels, they definitely went the extra mile to make it something special for inner-city Black and Brown kids. (Why do you think it it’s “Sesame Street” and not “Sesame Cul-de-Sac”?)

At the time, a wholesome, sweet show set in a brownstone street was practically unheard of.

Jon Stone, the casting director, deliberately sought to make the cast as rich with color as he possibly could, bringing on a huge amount of Black talent such as Loretta Long, Matt Robinson, and Kevin Clash, as well as featuring Black celebrities as guest stars. Later, the show would expand its horizons, bringing on actors from Latino, Asian, Native American, and many more backgrounds.

White actors were and still are a minority on show.

In addition to letters and numbers, the purpose of Sesame Street is clear: make kids of color know that they’re smart, beautiful, and loved.

It doesn’t get more explicit than this.

I want to point out this comment because it’s funny

You’re telling me this bitch isn’t Hispanic???

Anyway, these two were followed up by Reading Rainbow in 1983. And guess what?

That’s right. Non-white focus.

These three shows, (along with other, lesser-known programs like Lamb-Chops Play Along, Newton’s Apple, and Shining Times Station (who featured Ringo Starr himself?? seriously how did that happen and why does no one talk about it) and some other nostalgic favorites like Bill Nye the Science guy, The Magic Schoolbus, Arthur, and Thomas the Tank Engine) aired on the new PTV block, which evolved into PBS Kids in 1999, bringing along Between the Lions, Dragon Tales, and many more.

Arthur is another stand-out that I’d like to talk about— it doesn’t have the same racial focus of Sesame Street, but it does focus on different income levels. The characters have various housing situations, from apartments to mansions to no home at all.

It also takes cues from Sesame Street and Mr. Roger’s in regards to talking about tough topics, though as Arthur has a slightly older target audience, it discusses things through stories rather than talking directly to the audience.

Cancer, religion, workplace discrimination, along with current (at the time) events such as 9/11 and Hurricane Katrina are all discussed on the show.

Another big focus on Arthur is disability. For once, they don’t stick a character in a wheelchair and then pretend he’s not in a wheelchair. A striking number of major characters either develop or get diagnosed with physical disabilities and/or neurodivergences, such as asthma, severe food allergies, and dyslexia, and they deal with them in very realistic ways.

A handful of minor characters have more obvious disabilities, and THANK GOD they go beyond the trite messaging of “disabled people can do everything abled people can do! everyone clap now!”

One episode in particular has the awesome message of “holy shit stop trying to help me all the time— it’s patronizing as fuck. I can get around just fine without you stepping on eggshells and trying to be the hero all the fucking time”

There are sooo many other shows I could talk about, but I can’t write about them all. I’m definitely gonna point out some more standout ones, though.

Sagwa, the Chinese Siamese Cat

Created by Chinese-American woman Amy Tang

Dragonfly TV

Features a multitude of female and non-white scientists to foster an interest in science with kids in those groups

Maya & Miguel

One of the network’s first Hispanic-led shows

SciGirls

I shouldn’t have to explain what the goal of this one was.

Molly of Denali

When was the last time you saw a show that treated Native Americans as people? Much less a children’s show? 90% of the cast is Athabascan, and the show revolves around Athabascan culture, not shying away from topics like boarding schools and modern-day racism. Most of the writers are also Athabascan, and the show even has an official Gwich’in dub!

It’s this commitment to real, authentic social justice that makes PBS Kids so much different from its competitors. Could you imagine the Paw Patrol dog looking at the camera and earnestly discussing what happened to George Floyd? I don’t think so— but Arthur talked specifically about it, Sesame Street did an hour long special about race in general, and the network itself made a 30 minute special.

Disney Jr. could never. (Other than trying to teach colorblindness, of course.)

I’m gonna have to cut this into two parts, since I just hit the image limit

[onsomenewsht]

Aching legs that often told us it’s all worth it

About when you just win everything and you just want a hug

》 Barcelona Femini x Reader, Leah Williamson x Reader

》 word count: +2k

》 cras amet qui nunquam amavit; quique amavit cras amet [latin verse]: let the one love tomorrow who has never loved, and let the one who has loved love tomorrow

It’d be hypocritical to say you have never imagined this moment, that you have never dreamt of this exact moment. It’d be hypocritical to say that you have never, in the comfort of your bathroom, lifted a bottle of shampoo picturing this very trophy.

But no dream nor bottle of shampoo can remotely come close to how you feel when the referee blows the whistle three times, proclaiming your club the winner of the Champions League.

The legs, which just until a moment ago were close to giving up under the weight of an intense and stressful 90 minutes of running back and forth, suddenly sprint towards the centre of the pitch to join the Blaugrana bubble.

Screams and celebrations in more languages than you can recognise can’t bother you as you know well enough you’re all saying the same thing, you’re all sharing and expressing the same joy.

“Non ci credo!” [I don’t believe this!], Giulia jumps on your back without a care – the excitement to win such a big competition at such a young age fills you with pride.

What a bright future these kids have in front of them.

“Credici, it’s the first of many”

You’re optimistic tonight, it’s the first Champions League for you too after all.

You carry her around the pitch for five good minutes, hugging and cheering with every single teammate you meet in your path. The Italian girl gets dragged away not long after to join the kids’ groups.

You don’t mind it too much, you feel too old to keep up with their endless energy anyway.

For the first time since the end of the game you find yourself looking around, looking for a blonde woman – probably hidden behind a ridiculous hat.

It’s Keira who manages to catch your attention, screaming in that incomprehensible accent of hers right in your ears and dragging you towards the podium.

The trophy ceremony flies in a blur of cheers and confetti, despite your best attempts to savour every single minute of this incredible and historic win.

When, between pictures and out-of-key chants, a moment of apparent calm arrives, and you take advantage of it to look in the stands for your family.

At least the journey was not in vain this time.

The wrinkles around your mom’s mouth are a clear sign she’s been smiling for hours, the watery eyes of your father are the clearest expression of pride you will get from him. You hug them both for as long as they allow you, still reserving your biggest hug for your brother.

No sign of her yet.

“Here I was, thinking I couldn’t be more proud of you”.

You can’t hold back your tears.

After all, he’s your biggest and longest supporter, cheering for you since you used to play with boys double your age and size.

“Shut up and let me hug Andrea”, you say, reaching for your excited nephew.

The attention the toddler gives you is long enough to admire your medal and to kick a couple of times towards the goal when you let him onto the pitch. As soon as he spots Claudia, recently declared his favourite player ever, he sprints in her direction to steal her from Patri. You let him be, there’s Irene with the group of barely-grown-ups.

You don’t hold back a laugh as you see María run out of nowhere, her flag secured in one hand and a contagious smile on her face. You can’t wait to see her play again.

Then the sudden realisation you’re alone hits you hard. You’re alone, not too far away from the middle of the pitch. As much alone someone can be in the middle of a Champions League final celebration, but alone nonetheless.

Around you, teammates and friends and families are gathered in different bubbles, jumping and cheering without much of a care. The stands are filled with Blaugrana colours, singing loud and proud.

For the first time today, you let yourself get carried away by the supporters’ passion, admiring every single corner of the stadium as the privileged spectator of your own story.

You just witnessed a moment in football’s history.

You’d cry if not for the fitted body that crushes into you unexpectedly, bringing you back to the green grass without much effort.

“La poeta!”

“La reina!”

You share with Alexia a hug way more intense and sentimental than what you’re used to. You let emotion overcome you one more time as the captain holds you firmly, large hands caressing your back and keeping you present.

Her eyes are as shining as her all self, this victory means so much more than the obvious for most of you.

“You had to come in and score just like that, celebrate just like that”

“¿Qué puedo decir?” [What can I say?], the blonde shrugs her shoulders, but after years of friendship you can tell when the fine line between being humble and being aware of your own greatness blurs.

Alexia holds your face between her hands, the smirk painted on her lips shifts slightly to a more serious smile.

“Te lo mereces, lo sabes?” [You know you deserve this, right?]

“We all do”

“No, no, you deserve this”, she says firmly, addressing the elephant in the room dressed as the loan that last year broke your confidence.

You were there in Turin, it looked like a twist of fate to be away from Barcelona when they lifted the most beautiful trophy in Europe’s football.

This victory means more to you than what you’re willing to admit, even to yourself.

That’s one of the reasons why you’re still looking for her in the crowd.

“Enough with this mushy stuff, where’s my favourite Putellas?”

“Lo juro, si no dejas de hablar así de mi hermana–” [I swear, if you keep talking like this of my sister–]

“Oh, I was talking about your mom, but now that we’re on it–”

The punch she throws on your arm is light, but the message is clear. You and Alba have too much fun provoking Alexia, who is way overprotective of the both of you to realise that the jokes are only aimed at annoying her.

Feeling called upon, the two women join you with huge smiles on their faces. Eli welcomes you with a motherly hug, somehow sensing the tension on your shoulders.

“¿Qué es esa mala cara?” [Why the long face?]

“She can’t find her girlfriend”

“¡Alba, callate!”

Alexia raises an eyebrow at her sister’s quip, not happy to be let out about this.

She doesn’t know about the situationship you find yourself in. It’s not like you don’t trust the blonde, you do. But you’re aware of the protective tendencies and, on top of everything, you’re a bit scared of the lecture about the importance of being honest with your feelings and all that shit.

She’s too emotionally mature now.

Luckily, Olga comes running to meet you, distracting the captain from any inquisitive question without much effort.

“You’re disgusting”, you say to Alexia, now used to her open smile and carefree attitude whenever her girlfriend is close enough to light up her usually stoic face.

“¡Oy!”

“I wasn’t talking about Olga, I like Olga”, you state, dropping an arm around Alba’s shoulder who immediately joins the joke, “Yeah, lovesick Alexia is scary”

Eli has to intervene, still laughing at her daughter’s expense.

“They’re just jealous”

Olga’s right, you can hide it from everyone but yourself. You’re definitely a little envious of the cute relationship and happiness that seem to follow your friend like a glowing shadow.

You want a love like that too.

Your gaze starts wandering around the pitch once again, hoping to find the person who’s hunting your dreams and nightmares.

You know she’s here, you overheard Keira talking about her before the game.

She’s just not here for you.

Quickly excusing yourself from the Putellas’ family, muttering something about looking for your nephew to relieve anyone who found themselves babysitting, you bid your goodbye.

Before you can get away Alexia hugs you one last time, letting you know you’re not escaping her questions.

You find Andrea easily, entertained as he runs around followed shortly by another child – Mapi.

“Oh, wow, it’s like looking at your future!”, you teasingly nod at Ingrid, who’s way too entranced by the scene.

The Norwegian just grins, holding you as she kisses your forehead, always amused about the height difference. Her silence is loud enough.

Another jolt of jealousy strikes your body, immediately subsided by the reassuring presence of the defender and the loving gaze reserved for the enthusiastic Spanish woman nearby.

You couldn’t hate them even if you wanted to, they’re too beautiful together and you’re too happy for them.

When your nephew finally notices you, he seems to remember you actually are his favourite person. He outruns María, literally jumping between your arms – risking falling on his face just once by tripping over the flag that one of your teammates must have tied around his neck like a cape.

“¡Visca Barça!”

“Your father supports Milan”

“Ser del Barça es el millor que hi ha!”, he states in an impressive Catalan.

“Who taught you that?”

The kid points at Aitana and Jana, both sporting a smug grin all over their faces as they greet you from close by. The latter is lucky you’re feeling merciful enough to not embarrass her in front of her girlfriend.

You can just shake your head and laugh about the situation.

“You can give Keira Spanish lessons”, you say to Andrea as you position him comfortably on your shoulders.

You try to be subtle as you observe all the people on the pitch. If anyone asks, you are simply looking for your brother in the crowd of Blaugrana to return the child to its rightful owner.

Even if your brother is not a gorgeous footballer you can’t get out of your mind.

Of course you find him in a conversation with Keira.

“Tell me more about this high school suspension”, you hear the English midfielder ask.

“Tell her absolutely nothing!”

The chat goes on for a few more minutes, you’re a little ashamed to admit that you’re not listening to a single word as you still look around.

It’s your nephew who brings you back to reality, pulling you by the collar of your medal. You quickly bid your goodbyes to both of them, making sure you can meet again before they have to go back home and you have to be dragged into all the post-final engagements.

“You’re hopeless”

“What?”

“You’re both unbelievable”

“Where is your girlfriend? You’re bearable when Laura is around”

“She’s somewhere with your girlfriend”

At her obvious taunt, your gaze still flies in all the directions your neck humanely allows.

You really are hopeless.

Keira’s laugh is the final nail in the coffin, the only one amused about the situation.

She’s also the one who introduced you to the person you thought would just be a fun night out over a year ago, the person who turned out to be comforting and a constant thought.

The person who makes you realise midair you’re falling in love.

No strings attached though.

“Go to her!”

“She’s not here for me”

“Don’t drag me in, you useless stubborn–”

The blonde has a point, you can’t deny that the mutual friendship is the perfect excuse to find each other in the same places at the same time. The perfect opportunity to see each other again as much as possible without questioning the blurred line between an armless fuck and growing feelings.

Nights of fun soon turned into morning talks in the warmth of a hotel bed, then whole days spent exploring each other’s lives.

If only one of you dares to admit wanting more.

“Ohi, champ!”

As you hear her voice you never turn around so fast in your life, almost injuring yourself from the force with which you move. You don’t even hear Keira bust out laughing at your side.

“Hi”

“Ciao”

What a stupid smile you have on your face, just staring at each other a few steps away.

You’re sweaty and tired from the match and the celebrations, pretty sure your hair is a mess and your legs are on the verge of giving up. Yet she thinks she has never seen you more beautiful.

“Oh, for fuck’ sake, just kiss or whatever”, Keira grabs you both by an arm when neither of you makes any sign of moving, impatiently pushing you closer to the other and leaving, muttering something you’re not sure you want to know.

“Don’t run too far, you still have an interview in Catalan to do”

You don’t hear your friend’s response, you don’t even see her finger up in the air. When Leah laughs every other sound and person fades into the background.

“Can’t wait for that to happen”

“You and any other culés”

A few more moments pass before the blonde adds, “I think congratulations are in order”, pointing to the medal you wear around your neck – suddenly heavier.

“Thank you”, you whisper, lowering your gaze and nervously turning the object over in your hands.

You don’t need to see her, always hyper aware of her presence around you. You feel her approaching and enveloping you in a warm embrace, the hug you’ve been waiting for all day.

You have to admit to yourself it’s the best you’ve received today.

[gojoest]

COMPETITION — gojo satoru

satoru tries to beat the bad cook allegations and win his girls back

girl dad satoru, established relationship — you’re married & have a daughter (oc), her name is sora, f! reader, reader is referred to as “mama”, mentions of food, this is a silly little thing, not proofread, wc: 1.2k

satoru can be a lot of things — the strongest sorcerer, the most loving and devoted husband, the world’s greatest dad, society’s biggest menace, and according to some “the owner of the most annoying heh”  — but there’s one thing he most definitely isn’t. a good cook.

but ever since you had a family brunch gathering at nanami’s place where the latter had singlehandedly prepared a feast, without letting his wife lift a single finger even when it came to setting the table, satoru took it upon himself to prove that he can be as good of a cook as nanami, or even better.

the way you and your five-year-old daughter, sora, looked as if you’ve just tasted heaven while savoring each bite was a blow below the belt for satoru, while the finishing one was you complimenting nanami and telling his wife how she is the luckiest woman alive to have a husband who’s so skilled and willing in the kitchen because satoru can’t even boil water — to which sora nodded in agreement, “papa really sucks in the kitchen.”

it’s been two weeks ever since and you regret ever making that snarky remark about satoru’s incompetence because you’ve been banned from the kitchen all along, not even allowed to pour yourself a glass of water — all you have to do is ask and your husband will do it for you while you sit back and watch as the state of your kitchen worsens with each passing day.

he would occasionally have sora keep him company and help him prep the ingredients, sometimes even take the first bite if the end product looks edible, but for you the kitchen was completely off limits, he’s got a point to prove — that he is the best husband and you should’ve never said those flattering words about his friend in the first place because he can’t stand it when you acknowledge in any way any other man that isn’t him.

satoru’s determination is strong. he has no intention of letting this matter go, not until he sees that same expression on you and your daughter’s face — this is his life goal right now, he cannot have his two most important girls swayed by another man’s cooking, not even if that man is nanami (and especially because it’s him).

you might be running out of usable plates and pans, as they’re either broken or burnt, but satoru is definitely making progress. all the cooking videos he’s watched and the tips he’s gotten from talking to mothers on online forums are finally paying off because today, for the first time ever, he didn’t burn the pancakes for breakfast.

“papa”, sora looks with disapproving eyes at her dad, her cheeks squished between her tiny palms as she’s leaning her elbows on the kitchen counter.

“yes, my life”, satoru crouches down to her level. even though she’s standing on the toddler step stool her head can barely reach his hips. but whenever satoru talks to her, he always, without fail, either squats down or leans forward or holds her in his arms — because in those moments it’s just him and his little princess against the world, on equal footing always so he can hear her better and never miss a single expression she makes. “what’s with that look, hm?”, he nuzzles his flour covered nose against hers, the action itself causing some of the white particles to smudge on hers too.

“the pancakes look like pancakes this time but mama will not like this mess you made, again” — the sink is filled to the brim, there’s flour and baking powder on every single surface — counter, table, chairs, floor, the butter has started melting because satoru placed it too close to the stove after using some of it, there’s eggshells on the floor — any clean freak’s biggest nightmare.

“the mess i made?”, he gasps, “aren’t you an accomplice in this, little miss?”

“no”, she flatly denies, “i only watched you and broke the eggs”

“on the floor, that is”

“it’s because you said pick three eggs while i can only carry two, look—”, she stretches her tiny hands forward, palms facing up, to prove her point, “i have only two hands and they’re not big like yours, how am i supposed to hold the third one?”

satoru chuckles at her genuinely puzzled face, “you’re right, my life”, he replies through a soft smile after taking her hands into his and peppering kisses on the inside of each, “papa didn’t consider this”

“it’s okay, papa”, sora rests her forehead against her dad’s, “i am a big girl now, i will help you clean after breakfast”

“but you’ll always be my little girl no matter how old you get”, satoru whispers softly, lifting her up with just one arm so his free hand can gently caress the back of her head as she comfortably nuzzles her face into the crook of his neck, “which is why papa will take care of it”

“but first”, he sits her on the countertop and cuts a small piece of the pancake for her to taste. “say aah”, he holds the fork to her mouth, eagerly observing every gesture on her face as she takes the bite and starts chewing. it’s definitely not the look she made while eating nanami’s cooking but she doesn’t seem to hate it either.

“papa.”

“yes, my life?”, satoru looks at her expectantly.

“can i be honest with you?”

“yes, of course you can”

“uncle nanamin does it better”, she admits to which satoru instantly deflates, “but—”

“but?”, a tiny spark of hope makes it back to his sulking eyes.

“i wouldn’t trade your pancakes for the world”

“YESSS”, satoru triumphantly pumps his fist in the air and spins around beaming with joy, “got one of my girls back on my team — now let’s hear your mother’s verdict… but hold on”, his face painted in concern again.

“hmm?”, sora questions the sudden change in his demeanor.

“sora.”, satoru speaks in a rather serious voice.

“papa?”

“you’re not saying this just because i’m your papa, right?”

“well, it’s partly because of it actually”, sora pauses for a second, trying to pick the right words before continuing, “but it’s because you put so much love and effort to make me and mama happy that it makes anything you do my favorite thing in the world, and i wouldn’t trade it for anything, papa”

“i haven’t tasted the pancakes yet but i must agree with sora on this”, your voice reaches them from behind as you stand leaning on the doorframe. you came following the sweet and warm aroma wafting through the air but found yourself accidentally eavesdropping on their little heart-to-heart talk. “you put your heart and soul for us always — aren’t we the luckiest girls in the world?”, you wink at sora and she nods.

satoru sighs in relief, “if i can’t give you the best of everything that means i am a failure both as a husband and as a father. because you two are my biggest blessing and i only live to make you happy. also — you’re still not allowed in the kitchen, so just stay there and wait for the pancakes.”