#cricket news photo

[kkginfo]

Rishabh Pant: Rishabh Pant who became Mirzapur's 'Munna Bhaiya'.. Photos are going viral on the internet. | KKG INFO

Rishabh Pant: Rishabh Pant who became Mirzapur’s ‘Munna Bhaiya’.. Photos are going viral on the internet. | KKG INFO

After the series against England, Rishabh Pant looks fresh. Now these photos are going viral on the internet. Rishabh Pant has been the talk of the town ever since his brilliant performance in the limited over series against England. In the final ODI, Rishabh Pant scored his maiden ODI century and was instrumental in India’s account of the series. However, at the end of the ODI series, Rishabh…

[nhpnews1]

Rajinikanth fulfills Sanju Samson's dream, dream fulfilled after 21 years, expresses happiness to fans - NHP NEWS

Rajinikanth is the biggest superstar of South Cinema and everyone loves him. He has a huge fan following all over the world and the people of South worship him like a god. There would hardly be anyone who is not his fan. There are many big celebs among his fans and he is a favorite star from politics to the world of sports. When a lover meets him, his big dream comes true. Recently, Rajinikanth…

[youreverydayfangirl]

afterglow

pairing: charles leclerc x australian! reader

summary: y/n made a rash decision, or in which charles fights for his girl

warning: age gap relationship, hate, teeniest angst to fluff

a/n: pt 3 guyss

find pt 1 here and pt 2 here!!!

yourusername has posted

liked by charlesleclerc, francisca.cgomes and 8, 987, 374 others

yourusername WONDERLAND TOUR is officially a wrap guysss

francisca.cgomes my bestie is so talented and gorgeous

→ yourusername francisca.cgomes STOP I LOVE YOU SO MUCH

→ yourusername I CANT WAIT TO SEE YOU AGAIN

→ user1 your honor i love them

charlesleclerc so proud of you

→ yourusername thank you charles

→ user2 PARENTS

oliviarodrigo NEW MUSIC WHEN

→ yourusername oliviarodrigo SSHH

→ user2 WHAT DO YOU KNOW

user2 and people said she was a gold digger when she already has MILLIONS

user3 i miss her and charles so much

user4 charles in the likes i see 👀

user5 he still wants her so bad omg

user5 and people said she was the obsessed one

user6 CHARLES COMMENT OMG

user7 no cause she started single, they started dating, got engaged and broke up all during this tour

→ user8 STOPPP

yourusername has posted

liked by charlesleclerc, francisca.cgomes and 6, 798 365 others

yourusername girls trip w my fav w @ francisca.cgomes

tagged: francisca.cgomes

francisca.cgomes tea was spily not only metaphorically but literally

→ yourusername francisca.cgomes STOPPP YOU SAID YOU WOULDNT TELL

→ francisca.cgomes i lied

→ yourusername traitor

→ francisca.cgomes hehe

→ user1 you should pay for her therapy francisca.cgomes

liked by creator

→ user2 girl what tea 👀☕

→ francisca.cgomes steaming hot tea

→ yourusername francisca.cgomes SHUT UP

charlesleclerc gorgeous

→ user3 get me a man that pines for me the way charles does for y/n

→ user4 word its been months

yourusername has posted

liked by charlesleclerc, pierregasly and 9, 287, 637 others

yourusername life recently

tagged: francisca.gomes, lilymhe, oliviarodrigo

francisca.cgomes shoulde put the photo in where you stacked it

→ yourusername francisca.cgomes wow i see how it is

lilymhe i missed you on the grid

→ yourusername ME TOOO

oliviarodrigo hehehe im excited

→ yourusername same omg

→ user1 WHAT IS IT TELL MEEEE

charlesleclerc the most beautiful girl ever

pierregasly i heard that charlesleclerc saved 55 orphans from a burning building

landonorris charlesleclerc bought everyone on the grid a free round

carlossainz55 charlesleclerc let me drive his new car.

maxverstappen1 charlesleclerc saved my cat from a tree the other day

lewishamilton charlesleclerc babysits roscoe all the time for me

oscarpiastri charlesleclerc payed for my tuition. thanks dad.

loganseargant charlesleclerc saved me from a cricket

alexalbon charlesleclerc saved my dog the other day. hes a good man savannah.

georgerussell ohhhhh

→ carmenmmundt 🤦‍♀️

georgerussell charlesleclerc bought me a new ferrari

user2 what is going on in the house of commons

yourusername has posted two stories

caption 1 a bit heavy

caption 2 feeling pretty spoilt

liked by charlesleclerc, landonorris and 654, 786 others

landonorris maybe he does have game

pierregasly that works aswell ig

charlesleclerc mon amor

yourusername i love you so much you don't even understand

charlesleclerc no one will ever even begin to understand how much i love you

charlesleclerc i need you more than oxygen

yourusername has posted one story

caption 1: if you know you know

liked by charlesleclerc, francisca.cgomes and 567, 897 others

charlesleclerc i can't wait to see you today

yourusername me to my love

francisca.cgomes your stunning omfg

yourusername STOPP ITT

yourusername has posted

liked by charlesleclerc, francisca.cgomes and 15, 678, 892 others

yourusername i heard he saved 55 orphans from a burning building

tagged: charlesleclerc

pierregasly charlesleclerc i told you it would work

→ charlesleclerc it didnt

→ pierregasly sure it didn't

charlesleclerc my eternal sunshine

→ yourusername i love you so much stop it

yourusername has posted

liked by charlesleclerc, oliviarodrigo and 20, 485, 383 others

yourusername i'm excited to annouce that my third album afterglow comes out next thursday guysss. this album was along time coming and it has been pieced together in a story for you guys to fully understed my perspective over the past two years. from heartbreak, to peace, to understanding what true love feels like. the title track 'afterglow' will feature oliviarodrigo much love you guys.

yourusername pinned

the tracklist:

you're losing me, this is me trying, i hate it here, illicit affairs, the prophecy, loml, the black dog, bye, guilty as sin?, begin again, so highschool, dancing with our hands tied, so american, king of my heart, you are in love, call it what you want, daylight, but daddy i love him, afterglow ft olivia rodrigo, paper rings, lover, timeless, the manuscript

charlesleclerc pov you've already heard the songs

→ youusername pov you should shut up

francisca.cgomes so excited

liked by creator

oliviarodrigo it was an amazing experience getting to collab with you

liked by creator

_______________

a/n: happy ending!!! also i will probably end up doing a pt4 at some point with wedding fluff.

[jandarpan]

भारत के विकेट कीपर बल्लेबाज़ ऋषभ पंत का ताज़ा स्तिथि जाने !

भारत के विकेट कीपर बल्लेबाज़ ऋषभ पंत जो कार दुर्घटना के बाद कभी दीनो से उनका मुंबई में इलाज चल रहा हैं । आपको जानकारी के लिए बता दु उन्होंने अपने सोशल मीडिया अकाउंट पर एक पोस्ट शेयर कर अपने अपने फ़ैन्स को बहुत राहत दिया हैं । ऋषभ पंत टहलते हुए One step forward One step stronger One step better pic.twitter.com/uMiIfd7ap5— Rishabh Pant (@RishabhPant17) February 10, 2023

[rangpurcity]

Jasprit Bumrah Birthday: From living in a pair of shoes to becoming a millionaire, how mother changed Boom-Boom's fortunes?

Jasprit Bumrah Birthday: From living in a pair of shoes to becoming a millionaire, how mother changed Boom-Boom’s fortunes?

At the age when the child walks holding the father’s finger, if at the same age the father’s shadow rises from someone’s head, then how difficult the journey ahead can be for that child. Something similar happened with Jasprit Bumrah as well. His father had passed away at the age of 5. After this, to fulfill Bumrah’s dream of becoming a cricketer, his mother, a teacher by profession, spent her…

[onenicebugperday]

Sandgropers in the family Cylindrachetidae, Orthoptera

Sandgropers are flightless, subterranean insects related to pygmy mole crickets and, more distantly, to grasshoppers. They are found only in Australia, New Guinea, and Argentina.

Photo 1 by cheloderus, 2-3 by abritton, 4-5 by ezattara, 6 by mreissig, and 7 by strongie

[astralnymphh]

Domestic!Ellie is my addiction.

I need more. You don’t understand. It’s not a want!? It’s a DESIRE A NEEDDDDD!!!!!! Just reading the hc’s, how sweet and soft she is under it all.

When she’s herself again, that goofy dorky nerd we all know her to beeee!!! AGHHH!!!

- 🩵

i see more domestic!farm!ellie than i do domestic!jackson!ellie, and i think the latter needs to be discussed more.

no cuz farm!ellie— as I've definitely claimed before, is very husband coded. on the other hand, a more early–lover, girlfriend who takes care of the child u got knocked up with. which is literally dina, but, i guess if ur' not obliged to the thought of getting knocked up in the first place; gamer dad. i grew up with one, not like he was present 24/7, but like.. ellie? same font alternate story. i also hc ellie does best with boys, idk. just feel it. okay, maybe cause of jj.

stopp staying over at ellie's place for the night n' you bring the lil' guy over swaddled to your chest— legit, sowing two steps upon her doorstep, darkening it, not even getting the chance to knock, nay cast breath over it, and it's swung open and the bundle of wrathful joy nearing the age of two once strapped to you is now ecstatically babbling in your auburnettes arms. tis' fucking magic; how whenever ellie comes in contact with that baby, skies are rainbow–painted and mourning doves are entrancing the whole of jackson with a birdsong. how ur sweet boy, blood of your blood and bone of your bone, weeps gutty murder in the hold of yours truly— but dries of cheek and whorls of smile with ellie, is unfathomable.

"heyy dude, hows my favorite lil' guy in the world doing?" baby–talks ellie, so ooey and cooey as she bounces at the knee, blocking the doorway, "whos' ready to watch mom play the turning? i know mama is, i know you aree." you are but a fragment to her now, a forgotten shadow at her door. that sounds grim but take it literally. she like, literally forgets to kiss you at the door sometimes.

"ellie." comically, you tap your foot, faking a downturned pout left to dry without her kisses, and the cruel wintry air.

snapping her fern eyes up, she jerks a dumbfounded visage— and an even dumber query, "what?"

"my kiss?"

"oh, right.. um," her face relaxes and turns lily–white of innocence, shooting scattered glances at the child as she slants her weight over to you, "hey babe." extending graceful as a swans neck yet devoting you only a measly peck on the mouth measured lesser than a second before she slunk her body back and spun inside, rambling chin–tucked to that child, "ellies' got a new record i think you'll really like.."

lips still baked to a dry, you stare in catatonic quiescence at the eclipsed circle of pale lamp–light streaking around her bun as she paces away from you. step, by step, by hurried step, eager to spill attention with the full force of her coos amusing the easy–to–please mind, garbiling a possible bravo! or huzah!— until nightfall would whistle through the crickets and quiet him to sleep. leaving you, an even larger, tatted up baby now whiny for your attention.

need to see angelgbc photos of jackson!ellie holding jj now

[craisinsensation1029]

Picture Perfect

Choso Kamo

AO3 :)

just a soft moment with Chosito (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶) ° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .

3k

SFW but minors shoo shoo

“This one.” Choso points to a photo near the edge of the table. The white space at the bottom of the Polaroid reads the photo is from October, last fall. He picks up the photo to examine it further, feeling his cheeks warm as the idyllic memory swarms into his mind. A lucent smile stretches across your face, eyes nearly appearing to be closed and crinkling at the corners. One of Choso’s arms is wrapped around your shoulder while his lips are pressed against your cheek.

The lush foliage of the trees in the background almost makes it look like the two of you are situated perfectly in front of a backdrop. It was the first time either of you had been apple picking, bringing your camera along to ensure the memory was solidified was an absolute necessity. 

“Oh, for sure.” Gently taking the photo from his hand, you delicately slide it into the photo album right below one of the two of you sharing a snow cone at a fair over the summer. “What about that one?”

Choso’s gaze follows the direction of your finger pointing to a photo on the opposite edge of the table from the previous one he just picked up. It’s one of the two of you on New Years with purple and gold tinfoil hats on your heads and wearing 2024 shaped glasses. “That’s definitely a good one.” He reaches for the photo, admiring it for a moment before he hands it to you. Flipping to a clean page, you repeat the task of sliding it into the album.

“It’s coming along pretty nicely, don’t you think?” you ask with a smile, turning to face him. There’s only four pages left to fill and with the abundance of photos you have, it looks like you’re going to have to buy another photo album sometime soon. 

It’s been a little over three years since you met Choso, and closing in on two since you started dating. 

Being immune to customers trying to charm you at the bar you worked at was more or less one of the cardinal rules. It was pretty exhausting trying to attend to all the customers while someone was trying to use pick up lines they memorized from Reddit on you. They were always on the ends of two extremes, either being so excruciatingly cringe that you swore every patron was replaced with crickets and made it known absolutely no one was entertained, or they were unusually charming but still not worthy of being dignified with your time. 

For the longest time, you remained completely unaffected by anyone’s attempt to capture your attention and gain your affections. It didn’t matter how many drinks people offered to buy you or claims of taking you away from this place (as if you were some kind of stray cat wandering the streets looking for a home…) they would make. The only concern you had was being polite enough to earn the tips you rightfully deserved.

That changed the day a very peculiar man stepped through the doors of the bar. 

The first time you saw Choso, the air seemed to be charged with electricity. It seemed like a spotlight was on him, following his every move as he made his way through the crowd to take a seat at one of the elevated stools. From the scar running across his nose to his hair styled in two pigtails sitting atop his head, it was pretty impossible not to notice him. 

Not that the bar was some staple for locals, or even located at the edge of town. It was in the heart of downtown on a block with more bars and even more prominent nightlife, but there were a lot of regulars. It was easy to consider that maybe he came more often during the day since you mainly worked nights, but the way some of your other coworkers and patrons alike were staring at him, it was obvious that wasn’t the case.

“Hey.” It was almost startling how someone uttering a simple word could make them so starkly different from everyone else around them. There was no stupid ‘term of endearment’ tacked on to the greeting, no trace of a hungry gaze threatening to eat you alive. 

“Hi there.” The roles were reversed, you being the one drinking in his appearance until your thirst was quenched. He almost looked out of place with the purple rings encasing his eyes, his sleepy and stoic appearance contrasting the liveliness of the bar around him. “What can I get for you?”

When his gaze met yours, it seemed like you were looking at a completely different person. His impassive expression morphed into something more distinguishable, though it was a bit hard to tell exactly what it was. Sorrow? Anguish, maybe?

He just let out a sigh as a hand brushed back some of the stray hairs resting on his forehead. “Just something strong, I guess.”

Silently you nodded, turning around and looking over all the liquors and contemplating what you would make. In any other instance you would never willingly make this for a customer, usually internally groaning whenever one ordered it, but it actually did seem like he needed this. Quickly getting all of the necessary components, you made him a Long Island Iced Tea garnished with two pieces of lemon and a straw. 

“You only get one of these though.” Pushing the drink toward him, you watched his hand curl around the glass, his exposed forearms slightly bulging. “On the house.”

“Thank you.” Another tired sigh escaped from him before he took a small sip of the all too alcoholic concoction. It must have been his first time having one judging from the grimace that lined his lips and the intense furrow of his brow after a single taste. He took another small sip, shaking his head with a sputter and pushing it back towards you. 

“Too much?” you laughed, deciding to take a sip of the drink yourself. His reaction wasn’t an exaggeration at all. With the two sips he took there was a very strong possibility he was already tipsy.

He nodded in response to your question. “Sorry for wasting your time.” He blew out a third sigh as he folded his arms and let them rest on the counter. “I can pay for it.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Drinking on the job was very generally looked down upon, but you were sure one of your coworkers would be happy to drink it. Hell, if you yelled out who wanted a free drink another customer would probably swoop in and drink it without even questioning what it was. “Let me make you something else.” Most people wouldn’t turn down a free drink, but you turned quickly before he could potentially reject the offer. 

Oh so familiar with the set up, you swiftly prepared him another drink, a much milder one this time.

Turning to face him once more, you slid the drink garnished with a cherry to him. There were still some traces of distress lingering in his eyes, but this cocktail seemed to soothe him much more than the previous one that could have all but killed him.

“What kind of alcohol is in this?” He took another sip. “This is really good.”

“A really mild vodka.”

“Really?”

“No,” you laughed. His eyes widened as heat started to rise to his cheeks, a prominent blush staining his pale skin. “It’s just a shirley temple, no liquor.”

“Oh.” A sheepish smile formed on his face as he brought the straw to his lips for another sip. He looked so charmingly boyish, you just wanted to put him in your pocket and bring him home with you. “It is really good though, you must be the best bartender here.”

There was no omitting you were more seasoned than some of your other coworkers, but there was no reason to brag. Instead you just shrugged. “I just don’t think the drink was as self soothing as you thought it would be.”

Over time you seemed to develop a knack for these sorts of things with all the people from all different walks of life that found their way in here. Some people really were better off drowning in liquor and their sorrows, but that didn’t seem to be the case here. 

He blinked at you silently, as if you had just read him like a book. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” He didn’t say anything more as he finished his drink.

Taking the empty glass, you prepared another one for him, which again he didn't object. There were other patrons that you could have started tending to, but there was something so alluring about this man that you couldn’t quite put your fingers on. Normally you’d be completely uninterested in whatever problems your customers had, instantly tuning them out the moment they decided that this was some sort of free therapy session and you were lending them an ear, but you found yourself actually wanting to know.

When he finished the second drink you made him a third—a virgin mojito. He didn’t ask any questions when you slid it to him, just nodding and taking a grateful sip.

“Any reason you were trying to give yourself alcohol poisoning?” you asked playfully with a raised brow.

He finished taking another sip before a soft laugh left his lips. Even with all the noise of the bar you could hear it clearly, such a delightful sound from a demure looking person. “Just kind of upset with myself.”

He didn’t elaborate, and you didn’t want to come off as too overbearing, but his words were just the tip of the iceberg, the true weight of them miles below the surface. 

“I hope you’re giving yourself some grace, at least.”

“It’s kind of hard.” His eyes found yours, silently asking for permission to continue. It wasn’t a look of pleading and desperation, but a gentle one of someone just looking to be heard, to be seen. You nodded, the head movement conveying that you were there with open arms. “I’m a terrible brother.”

His gaze left yours, downcast to the liquid in the glass. “There was this convention one of my younger brothers wanted to go to in a few months. He’s been talking about it for weeks and saving some of the money from his part time job to get the tickets. I told him not to worry about it.” He gulped before he continued. “But something else came up. One of my other brothers had a pretty bad reaction at this potluck hosted by his job, they didn’t know he’s allergic to sesame.” 

You listened intently, watching as one of his fists clenched as he went on. “They should have, I’m pretty sure they asked everyone if they were sensitive to anything, but whatever.” The veins in fist throbbed beneath his skin, somber eyes seemingly igniting with anger as he recalled the situation. “I’m not sure exactly what it was that he ate, but he had a pretty serious reaction.” He shook his head. “Of course his job was so sorry for being the reason he experienced anaphylaxis.”

“Oh my god, is he… is he… ”

This time, a rueful laugh left his lips. “He’s fine now. He had his epipen, but he still went to the hospital after.” His shoulders slumped as he sighed. “I had to use pretty much all of the money I was putting aside for those convention tickets and then some to cover the hospital bill.” Another mirthless laugh. “And that was after what the insurance covered.”

It was hard connecting his story back to the first point he made. “How does that make you a bad brother?”

He furrowed his brow like the answer was obvious. “My younger brother… ” He shook his head. “I let him down. The tickets for that convention are all sold out. I told him to look out for ones being resold and I can see what I can do, but he said he doesn’t want to run the risk of getting scammed.”

“Do you hear yourself?” He looked almost offended, but you spoke again before he could interject. “I’m pretty sure your younger brother isn’t complaining about what you had to use the money for.”

“But—”

Rarely were you ever dismissive of what people had to say, but you needed him to hear these words. “You saved your brother from medical debt. I’m positive both your brothers are pretty grateful about that.”

“That’s the thing.” He forwent the straw and brought the glass to his lips to finish the drink. “My younger brother isn’t upset at all. He’s even telling me it’s no big deal. It’s just… I don’t know… It feels shitty that I couldn’t do both.”

“You can’t do everything, no matter how hard you try.” He opened his mouth to speak but you raised your palm to stop him. “Neither of your brothers are upset, forgive yourself.”

He looked at you like you said something in a language that he couldn’t understand before the fight finally left his body, blowing out a breath. “Yeah, I guess you’re right… ”

Tentatively, you reached out to touch his hand that wasn’t clenched in a fist. He peered down where your hands met his skin, his other fist starting to relax. Admittedly, he had a bit of a vampiric appearance (albeit, an extremely sexy one that you would let bite you), but he was warm to the touch. “I’m never wrong, just trust me.”

Finally, a laugh that was laced with amusement left his lips as he nodded. “Something is telling me to believe you.”

For a moment both of your eyes met, the moment more charged than you expected it to be. “Well if you ever want to not drink yourself to death again, I’ll be here.”

“Choso,” he introduced with a now radiant smile. In turn you introduced yourself, and as many say, from there the rest was history.

“It looks really good,” he agrees with a nod of his head as his eyes scan the photos for which one to add next. He wishes he weren’t as indecisive, but he can’t help it. Every single photo holds a dear memory of moments—big and small—of your relationship. His fingers hover over a particular one, gripping it gently before presenting it to you. “Can we include this one?”

His voice is just a little bit smaller than before, the tiniest thread of doubt in his tone. Taking the photo from him, you press a soft kiss to the tip of his nose, instantly making his cheeks ignite.

“Come on, Cho.” The shyness of the question is borderline ridiculous. “Of course we can.”

Sliding the photo into the album, the smile already on your face grows even larger, making your cheeks start to ache as the fond memory captured comes to the forefront of your mind.

See, before you even knew Choso’s name it was obvious how much he valued family. Not that you didn’t hold yours close to your heart, but his love and devotion ran so much deeper. Whether it was through a phone call, text, or a video call, he talked to each of his brothers every day. 

Every interaction highlighted the distinct parts of his personality; soft yet stern, docile yet confrontational, honest enough to deliver the truth but gentle enough to consider the feelings of others before it spewed from his mouth. Somehow he’s able to morph himself into the person his siblings would need at any given moment without losing any part of himself. He’s like a disco ball, every part of him glimmering no matter which way you spin him.

Naturally, the prospect of meeting his brothers intimidated you. If they disliked you, would that be the end of your relationship? Would they tell Choso that he could do better? The thought of the people who meant the world to the person that gradually became the light of your life holding any sort of disdain towards you was distressing.

Sweat slicked your palms and the lump in your throat wouldn’t go down the night you were set to meet them over dinner. You’d insisted on preparing everything yourself even though your hands trembled with every slice of the knife. Choso—always so perceptive—wrapped his arms around your waist as you stood in front of the stove and pressed a soft kiss behind your ear. “Stop worrying.”

“What?” A nervous laugh bubbled out of you. “Who says I’m worried?”

“Hey.” He made quick work of spinning you around, pressing his body against yours as one of his hands cupped your face, thumb grazing against your cheek. “You have nothing to worry about. I already love you, they will too.” He followed his reassuring statement by letting his lips brush against yours, the familiarity helping to ease the nerves in your body. “Everything’s going to be fine.”

Everything turned out to be more than fine, all of his brothers greeting you warmly and making conversation as if they’ve known you for years. Sitting at the head of the table, all Choso could do was simply cherish the moment, relishing in the fact that all the people he loved were sitting in the same room, learning to love each other.

“We have to take a picture!” you beamed as the night winded down.

All his brothers nodded in agreement, choosing to either smile or throw up a peace sign while Choso pressed his cheek against yours with one arm outstretched the snap the moment.

“I just… ” He shrugs, cheeks still burning. “Didn’t know if you wanted to include them, thought you might have wanted it to be just us.”

As if Choso is really himself without his brothers. “Well they’re my family too now, aren’t they?” You start to feel heat rising to your own cheeks as you reach for his hand and entwine your fingers. “They have just as much place in this album as the pictures of just you and I.”

Choso has never felt this accepted, so complete with someone that is comfortable proclaiming his family as their own. It takes a lot to keep tears as bay as he feels his heart tripling in size in his chest, overcome with the sweetness of your words and the affections that they hold. He squeezes your hand as he nods. “Yeah, they are.”

You fill the remaining pages with more pictures that you’ve taken with his brothers since that fateful day, and you never wish ill upon anybody, but with the tenderness and comfort of this new found family, you’re grateful he was never able to get those convention tickets. 

[irisintheafterglow]

End Game #9 (volleyball captain!gojo x you)

summary: during the final nationals match against kyoto, the captain wins a bet.

wc: 2.5k

cw/tags: mild angst/comfort, established relationship (pet name-angel), mostly just fluff and volleyball, swearing, more fluff and volleyball

note: HELLO VOLLEYBALL!GOJO NATION *crickets except for midi cheering alone at the back of the stadium* uh anyways i know it's been months since i updated this, but i wanted to give you all a gift for the new year starting with the series that brought me a lot of new friends at the beginning of my blog's creation! i can't thank you all enough for the support you've given this series and i hope you enjoy this last (official) iteration :))

likes, reblogs, and replies are appreciated <33

“Looks like they’ve gotten better,” you observe in slight disbelief while the scorekeepers flip the board to show 25-23. By some miracle, Tokyo managed to rip the fourth set from Kyoto’s hands right when it seemed that all was lost. It still didn’t help the queasy feeling in your stomach. “A lot better.”

“Or, we’re becoming inferior,” Yaga growls with fiery determination burning under his sunglasses. You slide the basket of water bottles from under the bench and stand to grab the box of clean towels. Your coach inhales one more time to speak and you already know what his command will be. “Deal with Satoru.”

“I’ll do my best.” From the start of the fourth set, Kyoto had Tokyo on the run again. Despite their best efforts, Tokyo was struggling to hold up against the relentless pace set by their opponents, fighting to maintain their resolve and willing the other team to break first. Between the time of your first practice match and Nationals, Kyoto’s players significantly improved, much more than your team’s. Though they’d made steady progress over the past few months leading up to these crucial games, it seemed that the slope of Kyoto’s improvement was steeper. It also didn’t help that, wherever you looked, you were surrounded by the most prestigious volleyball recruiters in the world with their shiny reading glasses and slender fingers tapping away at their keyboards. Both teams were essentially under a microscope, none more than the third years that were at their wit’s end trying to prove that they were pro-material. And, whether people acknowledged it or not, all eyes were on your boyfriend and captain of the Tokyo team, Gojo Satoru. 

“He’s overexerting himself to the point where he’s making mistakes,” Suguru says to you quietly when you hand him a bottle. You nod, both of you aware that he’s preaching to the choir. “To the point where I’m noticing, so that means they’re noticing.” He tilts his head up to the stands, where you catch a few Jujutsu Volleyball Society officials conversing with whom you could only assume were Olympic recruiters. The thought of them discussing Satoru’s abilities and reputation in blunt detail makes you wince. 

“Have you talked to him about it?” The vice-captain shakes his head, eyeing his best friend warily. 

“Haven’t had the chance to.” The corner of your mouth turns down and you follow his eyeline, recognizing the familiar fake smile and emotionless blue eyes while he charms some brave fans that pushed their way to the court’s barricades. “Even now, he isn’t taking a break.”

“Mmm, well, you know him,” you sigh. The group of lovestruck girls hand Satoru various items and printed photos for him to sign and he takes them, flicking a black marker over their surface with all the grace of an old Hollywood movie star. “It’s always about others, never himself.” 

“Except when it comes to you, then he gets to be selfish,” Suguru reminds you and you shrug. Your casual response causes his eyebrows to draw in concern, like he was alarmed by your indifference. His tone is much more unsure when he asks for clarification. “Right?” You inhale deeply and shake your head again, gathering what little thoughts you could from the jumbled mess in your mind. “Did something happen between you two?”

“No, no. We’re fine…I think,” you half-heartedly reassure him, but the skeptical raise of his eyebrows tells you he isn’t convinced in the slightest. “He’s just been off, lately,” you admit. “I think the pressure that’s been building up for three years is finally getting to him.” 

“Pretty inconvenient time to crack, don’t you think?”

“Burnout doesn’t wait for you to finish Nationals, Suguru,” you conclude, patting him on the back in farewell before you find Satoru. “Good luck in the last set. And, for the record, the evenness of your gameplay hasn’t gone unnoticed.”

“What do you mean?”

“Recruiters can see how reliable you are. If they don’t, they need their eyes checked,” you joke before maneuvering between players to find Satoru on the bench, in Yaga’s spot. His eyes are dulled from exhaustion, no matter how much he was trying to hide it. His forehead is covered in sweat and you kneel in front of him to wipe his face with a dry towel. “When’s the last time you drank water?”

“The last time you asked me if I drank water,” he answers and you know he’s trying to force his sing-songy lilt into his voice, but it falls flat onto the court floor. “Thank you, angel,” he murmurs as you swipe the towel over his eyes, allowing him a brief second of relief from the blinding fluorescents above. 

“Of course. I’ll let you get away with it this time, even though I miss those pretty blues,” you whisper and the smallest smile appears on his face. But he can’t bring himself to look at you, not when he’s on the brink of falling apart. It was killing him just as much as it was killing you, watching him stumble during the one moment where he needed to stand tall the most. The pressure was getting to him and his final appearance at Nationals was compounded by the scathing words of his father, the unimpressed stares of Jujutsu brass, and the intense scrutiny from the recruiters he was trying to win over. “Need anything else, captain?”

“A long fucking nap,” he groans and you hum in assent, letting his warm cheek rest in your freezing palm. “This’ll do, for now.”

“Alright, Atlas, but you’re gonna have to get back to holding up the world in about five minutes.” 

“Holding up the world is fucking exhausting,” he mutters. “Being captain is exhausting.” Before you can come up with another comforting response, his eyes suddenly fly open and peer at you with more intensity than you’ve seen within the past few days. He pulls away from your hand and looks at you, really looks at you, like he’s come to some revelation. “You called me captain.”

“What?”

“You called me captain,” he echoes slowly, a dazzling grin breaking out over his face that you didn’t realize you’d missed so much. You’re speechless, startled by his newfound enthusiasm from just one word. “You actually did it.”

“I guess I did,” you respond with obvious confusion.

“Say it again,” he says with all the seriousness of announcing a death. 

“Satoru–”

“Say it again,” he repeats and you don’t realize how close his face has gotten to yours, so close that you can smell the faint minty smell of the gum he’d stolen from your bag. “Please.” 

“It’s good to see you back to normal, captain.” His smile grows even wider and suddenly he’s kissing you, with both hands on your cheeks and leaning over you while you continue to kneel on the floor in front of him. Your face is set on fire, keenly aware of the thousands of eyes that can see both of you and this display of affection. Satoru doesn’t seem to care, though, and the glittering brightness of his eyes is all you focus on when he pulls away. 

“What can I say? You bring out a different side of me.”

“Cheesy lines too? You’re feeling better than I thought.”

“Nothing like winning a bet to light a fire in a man’s heart.”

“You know, if I’d known that was all it took to get you back, I’d have said it sooner,” you chuckle and his lips peck your nose until you gently push his face away. “I’ll ask about the change in behavior after you win. Now, go,” you giggle and he all but leaps from the bench, instantly in top-form and letting his voice boom through the building as he calls his team to him. 

“It’s fifteen points,” he reminds them, who muster up all their energy to look more confident after noticing the shift in their captain’s behavior. “Fifteen points at Nationals for the first time in who knows how long, so make ‘em count. Don’t let me take all of them,” he taunts and real confidence appears in his players, dead set on snatching the points away from Kyoto. “Let’s go!” 

And, just like during the practice match and the match at the beach, no one is safe from the sheer power of Gojo Satoru. It’s as if he’s woken from the dead, refreshed and wielding enough energy to elicit sparks from his fingers and flickering of the overhead lights. When you look at his eyes, they’re not the hollow pits they’ve been for the months leading up to Nationals. Instead, a dark shadow of unrelenting resolve covers his eyes and radiates from his body like an aura, sending shivers down the bodies of opposing players. In true Satoru fashion, he exploits every advantage he recognizes, whether that be a skill of his own team or the pitfall of the opposition. He knows you’re watching, too, and trusts your eyes like they were his own. Kyoto makes a mistake by calling a timeout when they’re down, 13-11, and Satoru makes a beeline for you; in hushed tones, you relay what you see before he can open his mouth.

“Todo’s hiding a limp on his right an–”

“Ankle, and Kamo’s primarily using his left hand to launch spikes. So, that means–”

“Something’s off with his right, maybe a jammed pointer finger or tweaked thumb. They’ll think you’re gonna take the final point of the game to show off to the recruiters, so if you fake a hit on the left edge, bait Todo and the front line to block you–”

“Suguru can blow past Kamo’s weakened right hand–”

“And the Tokyo Jujutsu team wins Nationals,” you conclude as the whistle blows, lightly swatting Satoru’s arm to urge him back onto the court. “Go, stupid. You’re almost there.”

“I’m gonna marry you one day,” he calls, skipping onto the court and yanking Suguru by the back of his jersey, pulling him to the side to confirm the plan. He shoots you one last wink before broadcasting a hand signal to the rest of the team behind his back. With Nanami, Megumi, and Yuuji in the front row and Suguru, Satoru, and Inumaki in the back, it was the ideal rotation to shift leverage to Tokyo. A deafeningly powerful jump serve from Satoru immediately throws Kyoto off balance, and it doesn’t take much for Suguru to send Todo’s unsuccessful hit to Megumi, who pulls the same infuriating dump that he achieved during the practice match. “That was bold,” Satoru says to his protégé with pure admiration, “even for me.” Megumi shrugs, but stands a little taller from satisfaction with his point. 

“Who do you think I learned it from?”

“Yeah, yeah. I know you think I’m awesome, even if you won’t admit it.”

“I was talking about Geto,” Megumi deadpans and Satoru’s face contorts into indignance that makes you laugh from your seat.

“He’s not even a setter!”

“I was kidding, captain. Let’s win already,” his student responds impatiently. And win, they did. The final play you discussed with Satoru pans out flawlessly, with all attention going to the captain of the Tokyo team in anticipation of the game-winning point, only to be sent to his right-hand man. The cacophony of cheering and cries of joy is eardrum-shattering, but you don’t care as the rest of the team rushes onto the court and buries Suguru in a dogpile. Your heart swells at the sight of the nods of approval from the recruiters given to Suguru and Satoru, whispering among themselves and writing down their contact information. Despite Yaga gripping his sunglasses so hard that the frames broke, it doesn’t seem to bother him as he slams his palm onto the players’ backs with pride. You even think you catch Todo teary-eyed from the other side of the net, yelling something about being happy for his best friend. Hours of celebration later, as you walk with your hand in Satoru’s down the quiet streets of your neighborhood, you finally get to ask him why calling him ‘captain’ had such a profound effect on his psyche. 

“Being happy about winning the bet isn’t enough?” You look at him doubtfully and watch his cheeks turn a little pinker. “Alright, fine. But, you can’t make fun of me for this, okay?”

“I promise,” you say, making a big show of hooking your free pinky finger in his. “At least, I won’t make fun of you in public for it.”

“That’s enough for me,” he concedes with a smile. “It’s just…winning at Nationals wasn’t the hardest thing I’ve done this year, not even in all three years of high school.”

“What’s been the most difficult, then? You were literally on the verge of burnout today, so I don’t know any other circumstances where–”

“Winning you,” he murmurs, stopping you on the sidewalk and turning you to face him. The streetlights are dim enough to where the moon shines off of his hair and his face seems to glow like a statue carved from marble. “That was the hardest thing I’ve done.” You blink once, twice, and still don’t understand. 

“What do you mean, ‘winning me?’ How am I harder to get than winning Nationals?”

“Nationals was my dad’s dream. It always was. I started caring about going to Nationals when we made that silly bet to get you to call me captain. But, I’ve cared about making you fall in love with me since you took a sip from my soda can during our first year.”

“I’m still not a fan of that fizzy sugar water,” you chuckle and he looks at you so fondly, so softly, that you’re glad his arms have found their way around your waist to hold you up and keep you standing. “You’ve loved me since our first year?” 

“I loved you before I knew your name in class. And then, today, I figured if I could get you to fall in love with me when I thought it would take a lifetime, I could win some National volleyball title.” His pretty mouth breaks into that lopsided grin that you’d fallen for time and time again. 

“‘Some National volleyball title,’” you echo, slightly delirious from how warm he made you feel. “As if I’m more important than that.”

“Because you are,” he vows with utmost devotion that makes you dizzy, kissing you under the spring moon like it was the first time he could finally see you clearly. “You’re more important than anything, and that’s the truth.”

He was infuriating, to say the least, but you’d found that you didn’t mind how much he irritated you as long as he loved you just as much. 

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

[kkginfo]

HBD Yuzvendra Chahal: 'You are so nice.. you have a huge fan base'.. Chahal's wife congratulates with romantic photo.. | KKG INFO

HBD Yuzvendra Chahal: ‘You are so nice.. you have a huge fan base’.. Chahal’s wife congratulates with romantic photo.. | KKG INFO

Yuzvendra Chahal Birthday: Today (July 23) is the birthday of Indian spinner Yuzvendra Chahal. On this occasion, his wife Tansree Verma shared a romantic post online. Thanasree Verma is wife of Yuzvendra Chahal Today (July 23) is the birthday of India’s star spinner Yuzvendra Chahal. He is 32 years old. Meanwhile, his wife Thanasree Verma posted a beautiful photo on social media and…

[amnhnyc]

Jiminy cricket! Have you ever heard of the Pinocchio rainfrog (Pristimantis appendiculatus)? This amphibian can be found in parts of South America including Colombia and Ecuador, where it inhabits mountainous cloud forests. First described to science in 1894, new research wasn't published about the Pinocchio rainfrog until the 1970s. This species is threatened by habitat loss and pollution.

Photo: andypearce, CC BY-NC 4.0, iNaturalist

[vicsy]

Daniel Ricciardo and tennis – a masterpost (of sorts).

To start things off, here is a video of Daniel playing tennis that I think about way too often, especially lately, with the recent paddle mania that took over the paddock.

A few things I could note here, apart from the fact that Daniel himself said that if it wasn't racing, he'd go pro in tennis:

old school-ish (european) one handed backhand which is actually rather solid! Daniel said many times that he is a big fan of Federer (a true goat) and Daniel's technique here is pretty much imitating Roger's smooth and satisfying backhand strokes.

it is just a couple of hits but ball placement court wise in not bad - all past the half court mark, down the line, then cross court and close to the baseline.

his movement on the court itself comes off a bit wonky in comparison to regular players but I do like how he attacks the short ball (even if he swings a bit too wide but it still works).

Some assortment of interesting facts:

Apart from his love for Roger Federer, Daniel was a big Andre Agassi fan.

In 2021 Daniel and Lando stayed up to watch British teenage tennis player Emma Raducanu (who is an avid F1 fan and her fave driver is Daniel) win the US Open, her maiden grand slam tournament. This was right before the win in Monza and McLaren 1-2.

In 2020, Daniel took inspiration for his "Equality" face mask from the four time grand slam winner Naomi Osaka and called her a "strong voice" (which she rightfully was). Lewis Hamilton also considered Naomi a great inspiration in raising awareness of several social issues.

When Daniel was a kid, he would smash his racquet if he lost (that's so real of him and i do that too):

Ricciardo is widely regarded as motorsport’s nice guy. But when does the mongrel come out? "I’m a born competitor. As a kid I was a sore loser. If it was a tennis match, I’d smash a racquet or something," he said, laughing. (source)

Once Daniel was playing with his cousin and apparent he got a little outplayed, so in retaliation Daniel hit his cousin point blank with a tennis ball (which hurts A LOT). His cousin cried and then Daniel's dad gave him "a clip across the ear". Daniel also talks about it in one of the Grill the Grid videos. (big thanks to @go-daniel for finding the article and the video to back this story up!)

Daniel is childhood friends with Marcus Stoinis (an Aussie cricketer) and they grew up together playing tennis, driving to Dunsborough south of Perth and they would play tennis together for the whole day, practically hogging the court. (via this post)

Now, to the photos!

Carlos and Daniel playing a tennis match in 2013. Daniel won 6-3 2-6 7-6. It's from Daniel's old twitter post.

Daniel and Jannik Sinner in Piatti Tennis Center in 2020. Jannik is an Italian darling and current world number 3 on the steady rise to the top (i love my carrot boy so much).

Daniel on court.

Daniel attending semifinals of Wimbledon 2021.

Daniel with Juan Martín del Potro during Miami 2023 Grand Prix. Del Potro, now retired, was a prominent tennis player from Argentina, a "gentle giant" and he is also a fan of Fernando Alonso.

Daniel with Matteo Berrettini (and Francesco Carrozzini in the middle), Italian tennis player, current world number 142, during Met Gala 2023 (the way i yelled when this photo dropped omg).

It is all I have managed to gather for now but I will update if I stumble upon something new.

[hanlimz]

synopsis: you always have room for yang jungwon. pairing: jungwon x gn!reader genre/warnings: best friends to lovers!!! / self-indulgent fluff! ig maybe angst if you squint, won compares himself to others, reader talks abt being in pain but it's not real (?), mayhaps this fic is a bit incoherent T_T i wrote this in one sitting that ended at 3am so quality may be a little iffy (sorry :,( , mayb i'll rewrite in the future!) wc: 1.4k a/n: cass write for someone that isn't yang jungwon challenge : FAILED ! nah but fr tho, this pic has a Grip on me n i was possessed to write. but in all srsness, i Am working on other non-won centric fics n they should be out.......soon (?)

[8:36PM] through the lens of your grandfather's old polaroid camera, the sun seems to cradle jungwon's face in her array of rich oranges and deep reds. she places her bright lips on the crown of his head and bathes him in a warm, summer light; her golden fingers reach down to smooth out a few stray strands of his hair while moving slowly to caress the sharp angles of his silhouette. however, the glow he radiates almost manages to outshine her as the peach hues of the sky only serve to accentuate his natural beauty. his cheeks are full and round after a (near) five course meal at your grandparents' cottage, his lips are a delicate pink that matches the swath of tulips outside of your old elementary school, and his eyes sparkle in a manner that mirrors the ocean behind him. and, in mere seconds, you decide that this vacation is one of the best ideas you've ever had.

two hearts healing together as one, each enveloping the other in blanket after blanket of pure, unadulterated adoration. with a gleeful flicker in his gaze that you weren't able to place, jungwon had agreed to accompany you—biking around your hometown while reliving old memories and chronicling stories of youthful grandeur. the tranquility had grown steadily, like the dawn of a new day or the promise of a new beginning, and the certainty of his presence came to be all-consuming and ever-existing.

perhaps, you dare to let yourself believe, jungwon had become your sun. since the fifth grade, he has been the one constant in your life. he was the young boy who led you on a tour of your new school after packing up and leaving the place you called home, and he was the kind stranger who helped you catch up on the topics you missed out on. jungwon was the hesitant acquaintance turned best friend, and he is the one person you want to be with after oblivion plagues the earth. but, drawing too close is dangerous—his heat could scorch your skin while his love turns you to ash. for a moment, you ponder that particular track of thought and allow the train to run its course. perhaps, you correct yourself, jungwon has always been your sun.

"[y/n]!" he calls, beckoning you forth from the daydream you found yourself trapped in, "did you get the picture?" no matter the timbre, his voice is melodic, hypnotizing—it is the perfect addition to the evening's quiet sonata. he sings alongside the croaking frogs and the chirping crickets, welcoming the moon as it takes its place in the night sky.

you reply, trying to push down the sudden panic rising in your throat, "not yet, won—stay just like that!"

the camera clicks as it snaps a photo of the masterpiece before your eyes. upon hearing the sound, jungwon leaps from his position on the rocks and bounds over to watch the film develop. with a gentle tug, he pulls the picture from your grasp; jungwon shakes it and blows on it before resigning himself to the painful reality of waiting. the nerves that were crashing like angry waves against the walls of your stomach become a tsunami as he settles with his shoulder brushing against yours. his touch hurts—his presence, though ineffably beautiful, singes the hairs on your arms and ignites a column of blue flame around your heart. a tumultuous contradiction begins to swell inside of you; the peace jungwon imbues in you fights tooth and nail with the doubt your brain conjures up.

don't get too close.

don't let his fire catch.

don't let yourself be caught.

as the colors turn vibrant and jungwon's form becomes clearer, you attempt to hold everything in—every thought, every feeling, every wish, every dream. but, the walls you've kept up for so long start to break and something is forced to give. unable to will your mouth shut any longer, words spill out before you can shove them back down. "you're gorgeous—i mean, it's gorgeous! the picture, that is. i really love you—no, wait. i really love the way you look in the photo ... the sun was really pretty, the sky was perfect, everything was—"

jungwon's laughter stuns you to silence; he clutches his belly while doubling over at your jumbled mess of a confession. his eyes are closed, and you're almost positive his voice will be hoarse tomorrow with the volume at which he's expressing his amusement. the blue flame has been reduced to embers, but another influx of agony washes over you, cutting deeper than before.

"jungwon ..." you say, voice thick with impending tears, "this isn't f—"

a soft hand is pressed to your cheek. the gesture is tender and loving, conveying more than words ever could. his expression is firm, and all traces of humor have dissipated in an attempt to communicate his true feelings with you. "i love you, too," jungwon replies, rubbing his thumb over the apex of your cheekbone. "i love you, too."

"you do?" you ask, fear prickling like thousands of tiny needles under your skin.

"of course, i do." his answer makes everything seem so simple.

"no—but, i'm saying that i love you, love you. i love you in the sense that i want to spend every waking minute next to you, but i don't want to fuck anything up or make anything weird. i love you so much that my future plans always include you—no matter the way, shape, or form. the house i want to live in always has a room for you—i always have room for you." raw emotion overtakes the usual tone of your voice as the reality of this beachside argument about love and clarity and blurred lines sets in. you want him to understand. you need him to understand.

jungwon pauses for a moment. he takes a step closer to your body; the sweet aromas of blood oranges and limes permeate the air shared between the two of you while hints of vanilla and spice mingle with the citrus. never in the eight years that you've known him has jungwon ever been this forward, but as he gazes at you with two umber oceans—you can't bring yourself to care. "i get it. i swear i get [y/n]—and, i'm saying that i love you, love you, too," he giggles, diffusing the tension in the blink of an eye. "i think i always have, [y/n], but deep down, i'm still just that little fifth grade scaredy cat.

our friendship is one of the most important things in the world to me. i honestly think losing you would kill me. and, i know, i'm not the greatest with words if i'm not reading them from a script. i'm nothing special. i'm not good at things right away like heeseung, and i'm not a romantic like jay or jake. i don't have sunghoon's allure or sunoo's charm or riki's magnetism. i'm just me—good enough to be your friend, but not good enough be anything more."

the anger and hurt have been washed away by the soothing rays of jungwon's light, and you speak softly, "isn't that for me to decide?"

he reluctantly agrees, shuffling his feet as though he wants to pull away. rocks clack against one another, and the cacophony of noise foretells a future in which you let him walk away. so, your body moves on its own, and your hand shoots out to grab jungwon's wrist. surprise is evident in his stare as his eyes flick between your face and where the two of you are connected. with a newfound sense of courage, you pull him infinitely closer to you while relishing in the way his frame seems to fit perfectly against yours.

"you're good enough for me, yang jungwon," you declare. "you've always been good enough for me, and you always will be."

as high tide begins to roll in with the moon, a gentle quietude falls upon the beach. the polaroid photo has long since been forgotten, lost to the rocky shore and the sands of time. the sun has disappeared and her palette of colors has faded along with her, but you are still warm. jungwon cards his fingers through your hair while you find solace in the constant beat of his heart; fire still licks at your skin, cinders still smolder in the pit of your stomach, but there is no room for pain in his arms.

jungwon is your sun, and this time—you let yourself burn.

[theroyalsandi]

British Royal Family - The Prince of Wales founder and President of the Earthshot Prize during a visit to the Kia Oval Cricket Ground with Earthshot Prize winner, Notpla, to hear about a new multi-million-pound contract with Levy UK + Ireland. (Photo by Kensington Palace) | March 08, 2024

[rangpurcity]

Where did Suryakumar Yadav go wearing designer kurta pajama? Wife shared the photo... Dhanashree Verma's reaction came

Where did Suryakumar Yadav go wearing designer kurta pajama? Wife shared the photo… Dhanashree Verma’s reaction came

Suryakumar Yadav, the middle order batsman of the Indian cricket team, has been scoring runs in T20 International cricket for the last one year. Suryakumar has been rested for the Bangladesh tour. At this time he is spending quality time with the family. Suryakumar’s wife Devisha Shetty has shared two photos on social media in which this couple is looking very beautiful. #Suryakumar #Yadav…

[rudrjobdesk]

Cricketers Daughters: सारा तेंदुलकर ही नहीं इन क्रिकेटर्स की बेटियां भी हैं पॉपुलर, नवजोत सिंह सिद्धू की लाडली हैं बेहद ग्लैमरस

Cricketers Daughters: सारा तेंदुलकर ही नहीं इन क्रिकेटर्स की बेटियां भी हैं पॉपुलर, नवजोत सिंह सिद्धू की लाडली हैं बेहद ग्लैमरस

Image Source : INSTAGRAM, TWITTER राबिया सिद्धू, सारा तेंदुलकर और सना गांगुली (left to right) Sara Tendulkar to Rabia Sidhu Cricketers Daughters: भारतीय क्रिकेटर्स की लोकप्रियता से तो देश में और दुनिया में हर कोई परिचित है लेकिन सोशल मीडिया के इस जमाने में उनके परिवार वाले भी काफी सुर्खियों में रहते हैं। आज हम बात करेंते ऐसे ही कुछ दिग्गज भारतीय क्रिकेटर्स की जिनकी बेटियां भी पॉपुलरिटी में किसी…