#Battle Athletes Victory

[therosecrest]

[buffgirlotd]

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

[littleeyesofpallas]

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

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

[pinkinsect]

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

[whosyourfavevoicedby-polls]

[dr-marbles]

A Guide to Aphrodite’s Epithets

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[eevees-hobbies]

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

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

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

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

Word Count: 1.8K

Divider by Saradika. Story banner by me.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The keyword here is capable.

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

A Few Moments Ago

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The audacity.

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

Now

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

God, this man. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh shit.

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

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

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

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

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

Asshole

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

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

[wosos-stuff]

Fractured Reflections

Lucy Bronze x Bronze Reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

[achillesisnotcomingdown]

It's crazy that no one told me that David painted Andromache Mourning Hector

Resting against the bed Hector's body lies on, are his helmet, sword and belt. Under his feet you see, craved in the wooden frame, a battle scene. On his hair lays the laurel crown of victories. Even in death, Hector shall not escape war.

Look at Astyanax, reaching for his mother's chest, asking for her tender affection, but she's not looking at him. She's looking up, as she points to Hector's body. She asks the gods above "why did you have to do that to him ? Has he not served you well enough?"

And then there's Hector. He doesn't look like a corpse that has been dragged on the ground for days, actually, he barely looks dead at all. The wound on his clavicle is clean from any blood, his skin isn't any whiter than Andromache's, and his expression doesn't show any pain or fear (he looks resigned, that's all.)

Hector, the prince, the warrior, lays in a perfect athletic shape next to his gear. He looks like he's ready to get up and head back to the battlefield anytime now.

Because of her clothing and the lighting, Andromache stands out from the darkness of the scene. The painting tells you don't look at Hector, the symbol of the Trojan war, looks at her, the powerless mother and wife. It's her tragedy before anyone else's.

[avissapiens]

How to be a Jock Ch8: Elements

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

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

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

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

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

[highcoutureaffair]

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

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

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

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

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

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

[therosecrest]

[pitchsidestories]

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

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

Queens of the Pitch

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

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

Copa 71

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

STEP BY STEP. VIV & BETH'S ACL JOURNEY

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

where to watch: youtube

Under Pressure. The US Women's World Cup Team

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

where to watch: netflix

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

The movie. FC Barcelona vs. Olympique Lyon

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

where to watch: youtube FC Barcelona

The Conti Cup Final. In Our Own Words

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

where to watch: youtube

Leah Williamson's Return

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

where to watch: youtube

Alessia Russo's first season

Relive her first few months at the Arsenal.

where to watch: arsenal.com

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

[wouldntyouliketoknow16]

The invisible string theory, a concept often discussed in the realms of psychology and philosophy, posits that there are unseen connections between individuals that shape their relationships and experiences. In the context of Formula 1, this theory can be applied to the dynamic between drivers Charles Leclerc and Max Verstappen. Both athletes, despite their rivalry on the track, share a unique bond that transcends competition. This essay explores the invisible strings that tie Leclerc and Verstappen together, examining their backgrounds, competitive spirit, mutual respect, and the impact of their shared experiences in the world of motorsport.

Charles Leclerc and Max Verstappen both emerged from formidable racing backgrounds that laid the foundation for their illustrious careers. Leclerc, hailing from Monaco, began karting at a young age, showcasing his talent early on. His rise through the ranks included significant achievements in various junior series, ultimately leading him to Formula 1. Similarly, Verstappen, the Dutch prodigy, made headlines as one of the youngest drivers to compete in the sport. His journey from karting to F1 was marked by impressive performances, and he quickly became a force to be reckoned with. The shared experience of coming from karting backgrounds creates an invisible string of understanding between the two drivers, as they both recognize the dedication and hard work required to reach the pinnacle of motorsport.

As both drivers progressed in their careers, they found themselves in direct competition with one another, particularly during their time in the junior series and early years in Formula 1. This rivalry, while fierce on the track, has fostered a sense of camaraderie off the track. The invisible string theory suggests that shared experiences, even those that involve competition, can strengthen connections between individuals. Leclerc and Verstappen have often expressed mutual admiration for each other’s skills, acknowledging the talent that each brings to the sport. This respect is a testament to the invisible strings that bind them, as they recognize that their achievements are intertwined in a broader narrative of racing excellence.

The competitive spirit of both Leclerc and Verstappen is another factor that connects them. Each driver possesses an unwavering determination to win, which fuels their rivalry. This shared ambition creates a dynamic where both push each other to improve and excel. The invisible strings of competition can lead to growth, as each driver learns from the other’s strengths and weaknesses. Their battles on the track are not just contests for victory but also opportunities for personal and professional development. The intensity of their rivalry has, in many ways, elevated their respective performances, showcasing the positive aspects of competition.

Moreover, the media often amplifies their rivalry, creating narratives that can sometimes overshadow their individual personalities. However, both Leclerc and Verstappen have demonstrated the ability to navigate the pressures of fame and competition with grace. Their interactions during press conferences and public appearances reveal a mutual respect that transcends the headlines. This aspect of their relationship highlights another invisible string: the understanding of the challenges that come with being in the spotlight. They both know the importance of maintaining composure and professionalism, which further strengthens their bond.

The emotional toll of racing at such a high level can be significant, and both drivers have faced their share of challenges. Leclerc’s early career was marked by the tragic loss of his friend and fellow driver, Anthoine Hubert, which deeply affected him. Verstappen, too, has experienced the pressures of expectation and the weight of being a young star in the sport. These shared experiences of loss and pressure create a deeper connection between them, as they understand the emotional complexities that come with their profession. The invisible strings of empathy and shared experience enhance their relationship, allowing them to support one another in ways that may not be immediately visible.

In addition to their personal experiences, the teams they represent also play a role in their connection. Leclerc drives for Ferrari, a team steeped in history and tradition, while Verstappen races for Red Bull Racing, known for its innovative approach and strong performance. Both teams have their unique cultures and philosophies, but the drivers often find themselves in similar situations, facing the same challenges of teamwork and strategy. This shared environment creates another layer of invisible strings, as they navigate the complexities of team dynamics and the pressures of delivering results.

The rivalry between Leclerc and Verstappen has also captured the attention of fans worldwide, creating a narrative that engages audiences and fosters a sense of community among supporters. The passionate fanbases of both drivers often find common ground in their admiration for the sport and its athletes. This collective enthusiasm can be seen as an extension of the invisible strings connecting Leclerc and Verstappen, as their rivalry brings people together, creating a shared experience for fans. The excitement generated by their battles on the track has the power to transcend individual differences, uniting fans in their love for racing.

As both drivers continue to develop and grow in their careers, the invisible strings that tie them together will likely evolve. The nature of their rivalry may change as they gain more experience and face new challenges, but, the underlying connections forged through their shared experiences, mutual respect, and competitive spirit will remain.

[studentinpursuitofclouds]

Hello, can you do headcanons on how affectionate the (vanilla) bachelors are or just cute stuff they do with the farmer? I need more fluff on this app theres too much nsfw :(

Sure thing! :D

Hope you don't mind if I do sort of mix of two of your request (mostly just cute stuff, I think). Thanks for your ask, dear anon! ❤️

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Sam is still a bit of a kid at heart, so sometimes when Farmer comes home they can catch, for example, a big pillow fort in the middle of the living room where the musician is already waiting for his partner. With a laptop, some good film or cartoon ready to play, and their favourite goodies. Farmer had a not-so-good day fishing with the capture of a legendary fish, so relaxing in a soft fort in the arms of their beloved husband is just what they need. Sammy will shower Farmer with copious amounts of kisses and hugs, and loves it when Farmer does the same.

Already a popular writer, Elliott was beyond thrilled when Farmer agreed to tour with him for a week, signing autographs. In fact, the fan meet-and-greet was only supposed to be for half a day, while the rest of the time the writer wanted to spend with his partner in a new place. See the local sights, take them out to a restaurant for lunch, date in a beautiful square or amusement park. He's been a real romantic before, with flowers gifts gifts, signs of attention and so on, and on these trips Elliott will be like a knight from fairy tales, because Elliott just adores his partner.

It's been ages since Shane last played gridball. He gained some weight during since and thought he was not athletic anymore, but Farmer had said otherwise, begging to join them in a game vs. Alex and Sam. He agreed, and was shocked as his body remembered all the manoeuvres to keep his opponent from taking the ball. They won 3-2, all the while smiling contentedly as Farmer praised Shane for being the best. He didn't mind all the praise, hugs and tenderness, reminding them that it was Farmer who were the best. Shane's body will be sore in the morning because of workout. Totally worth it.

Harvey loves cooking with Farmer, whether it's for their romantic dinner or just a simple breakfast. It may seem tedious to some, because it's just standing in the kitchen and cooking food... but not for these two. Then they playfully have a distillation of who can make canapés the fastest, then they throw in a pinch of flour at each other, fooling around, then they cook while dancing, then Harvey kisses Farmer's cheek to steal the yeast for the dough, after which the Farmer jokingly declares "war" again - laughter and chaos. For Farmer and the doctor, cooking has become something special, intimate even.

Sometimes neither Sebastian nor Farmer want to leave the house, but just to lie on the sofa and do nothing. So the couple decided to take a day off from chores, but instead of doing absolutely nothing, Sebby downloaded a bunch of interesting games on the console for co-op with Farmer, while they cooked for two in the kitchen all sorts of snacks and coffee/hot chocolate. For half a day, Sebastian and his partner sat on the soft, snuggling, under a warm blanket and with joysticks in their hands, shouting a victory cry when they won a battle, or giving each other consoling kisses if they lost. All in all, the day of was very relaxing and sweet.

Alex doesn't know anything much about crops or farming/gardening in general, but why can't the athlete learn to care for plants like his spouse? He wants to spend more time with Farmer, and they don't mind it too, but are constantly busy with their main job. So Alex listens to Farmer's advice and instruction on how to care for the fairy roses. Alex doesn't know why roses specifically, he just likes them. Although he has often glared at beloved spouse, at how beautiful they are and how similar they are to these very roses, forgetting the care lecture about flowers. He got a playful, light bonk on the head from Farmer, but the learning itself left a warm memory for both of them.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Is Yuu then physically also stronger than Ace because I remember Yuu beating up some savanaclaw members in book 3

[Referencing this post!]

I think that's debatable since Yuu's traits are mostly left vague and left up to player interpretation. They're not really marketed to us as a physically strong character but more as a tactician and strategist, as is shown in the prologue (which is the only real detailed instance where we see Yuu getting "involved" in a battle).

I looked back at the part you mentioned, which is 3-13. This is shortly after being booted out of Ramshackle, which is being held as collateral until the deal is fulfilled. We go to Savanaclaw for temporary housing, to which Leona says, "Fight my dorm's students. If you win, I'll let you stick around as gophers." A battle ensues, and it concludes with Leona scolding his mobs: "How could you lose to some puny little herbivores that fast? You're givin' me a bad name over here."

It's our victory--however, I want to point out that nothing Leona says here indicates that Yuu fought or used their fists in the fight, only that "puny little herbivores" won. It could very well be a case similar to the prologue, where Grim did the majority of the fighting against the ghosts while Yuu commanded from the back. This also fits more in line with the game's attempt to present Yuu as having an alternate kind of strength: they make up for a lack of magic with their tactical skill and by encouraging team coordination. Based on this, I personally believe that Yuu isn't meant to be stronger than Ace. But hey, maybe Ace can still consider himself stronger than Grim 💀

I'd like to add that the Episode of Octavinelle's interpretation of this same scene involves a non-violent solution. Instead of beating up Savanaclaw mobs, Yuuta demonstrates his cooking ability and is able to convince Leona to let him stay with that alone.

Of course, there are obvious exceptions to this. There are many Yuusonas or OCs in the fandom that are physically strong. Some Yuus that feature in official Twst media, such as Yuuken Enma and Yuuka Hirasaka from the Episodes of Heartslabyul and Savanaclaw, respectively, are also both accomplished athletes. It could also be argued that game!Yuu is strong in other ways, such as seeing the value of teamwork or supporting very strong stamina (they survived a gold disc beaning them in the head; no concussion) and mental fortitude (I mean, after dealing with so many OBs they're somehow still stable). So really, whether Yuu is stronger or weaker than Ace it depends on how you see Yuu.