#due x palette

[fl00mie]

woaah canonicity

also did this by accident and i liked it

goth by @/nekophy palette by @/angeutblogo due moth by @/dantemoths-lair

[viclaxuru-blog]

Due by @dantemoths-lair

Palette by @lasseutblogo

Goth by @nekophy

Shino by @blue-kohina

Camelia by @withered-camellia

Lux by @AlainaPrana

[purritogato]

I have so many ship of palette in it, first one is Due x Goth x Palette. Why? It started off as a joke but I dunno kind of liking it now

[flower-virus-utmv]

Final part of refs for now

These people are open for asks now and Refs and designs will be getting reworked over the weekend

Everyone in this post are located in a hideout in Farmtale (which is abandoned, most AUs are cuz a lot of people are in hiding)

"We found Goth! We'll cure your boyfriends Dante!"

"Palette, Due, LEAVE ME ALONE! I'm one of them!"

"Gradi, Cres might be infected..."

"Palette, that is a stupid idea" (that's supposed to say digital art tablet-)

"Well at least your alive..."

(These two have no pictures, Dante was a last minute addition and Crescent didn't come out properly)

~ Crescent ~ (He/She/They)

Status: Healthy? Infected?

Sanity: 30%

Stress: 70%

Health: 40%

Hunger: 30%

Thirst: 30%

Inventory: -A lot of food -Knives

"Doll, I am NOT INFECTED!"

~ Dante ~ (He/They/It)

Status: Healthy, injured

Sanity: 10%

Stress: 90%

Health: 30%

Hunger: 100%

Thirst: 100%

Inventory: -Medkit -Rurik's knives

"I failed to cure Lotus..."

Previous | First | Next

[noodel-doodel]

Damian a Potue kid

[dreamys-mess]

ship kids doodles <⁠(⁠￣⁠︶⁠￣⁠)⁠>

[loveletterworm]

ive been trying to come up with a different design for the player character in Picking Up Flashlights Off The Ground Simulator but its really difficult because i'm just trying to replicate the simple beauty of an amongus but have to take a bunch of extra steps because an amongus already exists.

I hate this stupid cat thing it looks stupid. And ugly. I hope it never knows happiness.

[readwritealldayallnight]

Yours, Mine, Ours

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Reader

wc: 1.5k words

warnings/tags: fluff

“So did the other two actually say no or did you just never invite them?”

“‘Course I invited them, you asked me to, so I did.” Simon replies with ease, keeping his eyes fixed on the road ahead of him. “They’re smart lads, lovie, they knew to say no all by themselves.”

You shake your head at him in disbelief but the smile that’s been plastered across your face ever since the two of you pulled out of your flat’s parking doesn’t budge. Simon’s been driving for a few hours now, and as stressful of an experience as that is alone, you’re too excited to mind the long journey in the car.

Simon is on leave for the next two weeks, something about Price having to attend a funeral following a death in the family, and deciding that everyone on the force was due for a bit of time off. Seeing as the Captain was going to be preoccupied during his time off duty, he had asked if Simon wouldn’t mind checking in on his house for him, making sure things were alright. He’d even offered for the two of you to stay in the guest room for the duration of their leave.

Simon had explained how Price knew that the two of you were living in a small flat in London, and apparently his home was in a beautiful, forested, isolated area which meant he had essentially no neighbours, something he also knew would appeal to Simon. He offered for the two of you to stretch your legs out there at enjoy the property, including the privacy that came with it.

Wanting to be polite, you’d told Simon he should extend the invitation to Soap and Gaz, thinking they might enjoy a nice, quiet stay-cation as well at their Captain’s place away from it all. It would appear your lover had different ideas in mind however. Though you couldn’t blame him entirely, the thought of having the cozy cabin all to yourselves was certainly more appealing.

Every which way you look outside the car, your vision is filled by endless blurry trees as you zoom by, the colours of the leaves having finally changed into the warmer, more vibrant colour palette that came along with the autumn chill. If the drive up to his property was any indication of how beautiful the area really was, then you were in for quite the treat.

Entranced by the beauty of the landscape in comparison to the city lights you’ve grown so used to, you fail to notice the glances Simon keeps sneaking your way, the smallest of satisfied smiles seemingly permanently etched upon his face beneath his balaclava. He was grateful that after explaining the situation and Price’s generous offer to you, you had been too excited to ask many questions, instead getting a jump start on packing a duffel bag or two.

You were one of the most intelligent, clever, curious people he’d ever known, and it was normally quite difficult to get anything by you. He was therefore feeling rightfully proud of himself as he drove you nearer and nearer to the home you believed belonged to his Captain. In actuality, there was no funeral for Price to attend, the sergeants had certainly not been invited along on your getaway, and the home you’d be staying in wasn’t Price’s.

It was yours.

Yours, and Simon’s.

The two of you had been living in that shoebox of a flat he’d considered as ‘satisfactory’ when he was only staying there as a bachelor, for far too long. As ideal as the location might have been, there simply just wasn’t enough space for two people to live together, even considering Simon’s absences for work and that fact that when he was home, you two were essentially always on top of one another anyways.

You’d both been searching for a new flat for what felt like ages now, none of the places you visited feeling like the right fit. Simon would be weary about a certain neighborhood, you’d be concerned with the lack of any balcony or outdoor space, he’d ignore the price tag that felt your eyes bulging, and you’d shake your head as you walked through doorways that had him needing to duck down.

Little did you know, Simon had been doing his own house hunting, outside of the city. You had told Simon you were fine with staying in London, understanding that it’s convenient to have everything near by. But Simon didn’t want to give you just ‘fine’. He wanted to give you a home. The home he intends to spend the rest of his life with you in, plans on carrying you over the threshold in your wedding dress, hopes to carry sleeping newborns in their car seats through the door.

For months now, Simon has subtlety been learning more about what that home looked like to you. He’d look over your shoulder as you scrolled through Pinterest, casually asking if you could show him your boards, you know just for fun, and paid very close attention when you showed him the one named ‘future house’. On his phone, he had a list a mile long in his notes app, from secretly writing down every comment you made while watching your home reno shows. He’ll casually ask you what you think of the houses you drive by, jotting down your answers in his mind, remembering likes and dislikes.

He believes that like you, it’s the people filling the home that matter more than the structure itself, as proven by the way you continue to put up with his minuscule flat. He knows you mean it when you say you’re alright with another flat. But he has the money goddammit, he has the means to do this for you, and when the listing came up for a home in what you’d revealed as being your ideal area to settle down in one day, the house resembling the amalgamation of everything he believed you’d described as being your perfect place, he knew he had to put an offer in.

And if there ever was anything about the house you didn’t like or wanted to change, he’d gladly do it for you, no questions asked. You want to paint the bedroom? Just tell him what colour you want. You want to change the railing on the wrap around porch? He’s on his way to the hardware store already. You need him to dig a stump out of the backyard to make room for your garden? Sit back and enjoy the show lovie, he’s on it. And when the time comes to build a crib? Well he may as well baby proof the whole house while he’s at it too.

He’s pictured your reaction a thousand times over in his mind. He imagines you’ll maybe give a small gasp when he turns the corner of the long driveway and you first see the cozy, two-storey home, surrounded by never-ending foliage of red, orange, and yellow leaves, the time of year perfect for appreciating autumn in the UK, as well as the privacy the tall trees grant you. He thinks the first thing you’ll comment on will likely be the windows, an item high on your priority list he knew to adhere to.

He imagines you kicking off your boots as you step through the door, pace quickening to explore every room, spinning in the kitchen as you joke about how jealous you are of Price. He pictures you groaning with envy when you spot your dream master bathroom, insisting to Simon that since you’d been tasked with checking in on the home you may as well see every room, right? He plans to explain away the obvious sparseness of the home as the Captain not having lived here long, as being very non-materialistic after all his years in service.

He’ll continue to play along for as long as he can, part of him knowing that you know him well enough that you’re likely to catch onto his deception at some point. However he hopes that before you start rummaging through kitchen cabinets and find them empty, too empty even for an absentee captain of a homeowner, that you’ll mention something along the lines of wishing you could stay here longer. That’s when he plans to slip a key into the palm of your hand, revealing that you might be able to stay longer than you believe.

The small piece of metal that’ll unlock the rest of your lives together, sits heavy in his pocket, in contrast to the light feeling in his heart when his hand reaches across the dashboard to grab a hold of yours, knowing that the content, lovesick smile you offer him is likely stretched across his face as well, staring right back at you.

Though you’re unaware that Simon is currently driving towards your home, and not away from it, you’re gently stroking the scarred skin across his hand, feeling as though your home is sitting right next to you, holding your hand and your heart at the same time.

[girlsloveupdates]

GL Series Update (9/4/25)

Currently Airing

An Office Thing (where to watch)

Your Apple (where to watch)

I’m Your Moon (where to watch)

Due To Air

ToGetHer (April 25th)

Even Though We’re Adults (April 26th) (teaser)

Currently Filming

Denied Love

Queendom (teaser trailer)

My Safe Zone (teaser trailer)

Whale Store XOXO (teaser trailer)

Only You (teaser trailer)

Roller Coaster (teaser trailer)

Pre-Production

Love Design (teaser trailer)

Clairebell (teaser trailer)

Girl Rules (teaser trailer)

Somewhere, Somehow (teaser trailer)

Announced

4 Elements (teaser 1 / teaser 2 / teaser 3 / teaser 4)

Harmony Secret (teaser trailer)

Cranium (teaser trailer)

Buy My Boss (teaser trailer)

Shades (teaser trailer)

The Dragon House (teaser trailer)

3 Minutes 2 Love (teaser trailer)

Poisonous Love (teaser trailer)

Dream Mind (teaser trailer)

Not Friend

Like A Palette

Player

Runaway

No Romeo

Enemies With Benefits

Built In Love

Stuck With Me

Draft Your Love

Yes Maybe No

Previously Aired

23.5 (where to watch)

Affair (where to watch)

Apple My Love (where to watch)

Ayaka Is In Love With Hiroko (where to watch)

Call Me By No Name (where to watch)

Chaser Game W (where to watch)

Couple of Mirrors (where to watch)

Dream (where to watch)

Fall In Heroine (where to watch)

FirstLove (where to watch)

Flirting With The INTP (where to watch)

Fragrance Of The First Flower S1 (where to watch)

Fragrance Of The First Flower S2 (where to watch)

Friendly Rivalry (where to watch)

GAP (where to watch)

Girlfriend Project Day 1 (where to watch)

I Am Devil (where to watch)

Legend of Yunze (where to watch)

Love Bully (where to watch)

Love Senior (where to watch)

Magic of Zero (where to watch)

Mate (where to watch)

Mom Ped Sawan (where to watch)

Out Of Breath (where to watch)

Petrichor (where to watch)

Pluto (where to watch)

Reverse 4 You (where to watch)

Reverse With Me (where to watch)

She Loves to Cook and She Loves to Eat (where to watch)

She Makes My Heart Flutter (where to watch)

Show Me Love (where to watch)

Sleep With Me (where to watch)

Soul Sisters (where to watch)

The Loyal Pin (where to watch)

The Secret of Us (where to watch)

The Two of Us (where to watch)

To The X Who Hated Me (where to watch)

Us (where to watch)

Non-GL (with side couples)

Bad Buddy (where to watch)

Friend-Zone 2 (where to watch)

Hormones (where to watch)

I Feel You Linger In The Air (where to watch)

Love Sea (where to watch)

Mine (where to watch)

Nevertheless (where to watch)

Only Friends (where to watch)

The Warp Effect (where to watch)

Wedding Plan (where to watch)

Additional Links

Chinese mini web dramas / short films

Chinese mini web dramas

[envy-of-the-apple]

Fun Sized

Dark!Fairy!Gojo Satoru x reader

Word Count: 2k

Synopsis: You save a tiny fairy. Gojo Satoru decides that you and him belong together, regardless of how little he is and how little you think of him. 

(Warnings: Yandere, not many warnings in this one ngl)

The fae are a dangerous bunch. You've heard more than enough stories to be spooked. Sirens will sing beautiful songs before dragging you into the depths. Dragons will burn you to a crisp before a second's thought. Nagas would make sure you were alive until the very end as they feast on your organs. Centaurs would use their powerful legs to stomp yours to mere twigs. Driders would suck your blood until there's nothing left but a husk of your body. 

You've never heard anything about fairies. They didn't live in your region. Their lands were high in the mountains, where humans rarely traveled. Also, they were so tiny, according to the books. The biggest seemed to be barely the size of your hand. They were harmless, you concluded. Harmless to humans. Harmless to you. 

He had been harmless. At first, you thought it was a cluster of leaves in the stream, but as the current drew it closer, you noticed tiny arms and a tiny face. He was unconscious; you didn't even know if the poor thing was alive. 

The Fae are a dangerous bunch, but saving one tiny fairy couldn't hurt, right? 

Your guest quickly proved to be a bigger hassle than you initially thought. 

When you brought him to your cottage, he laid in a basket of warm linen, asleep for hours near the warm fireplace. The blueberry pie was still hot when you turned around and caught him staring at you. 

It was silent for a while, and then you said: 

"Do you like sweets?" 

That's how your tentative friendship with the other kind started. Gojo Satoru (you later learned his name) was a boisterous thing. He did in fact like sweets, which helped bribe his friendship. You're surprised that he ate so much despite his stature. Did all faires have black holes for stomachs? 

He healed up rather quickly. At first, you were afraid that his wings had crumbled due to the prolonged exposure to water. But after stuffing himself full of the blueberry syrup, he smiled widely before flitting out your window. 

You thought that would be the end of it, but then he just came coming back. 

Apparently, your baking skills left an impact on the small creature. He didn't visit often, but when he did, you would always make sure you had something. Whether it be cookies, brownies, or that blueberry pie he was so fond of. Anything was good enough for Gojo's taste palette. 

"In the fae lands," Gojo said when you prodded, "sweets are too sweet. Yours is just enough."  You weren't too sure what he meant by that, but you took it as a compliment. You were sure the fae wasn't something who'd give praises so easily. 

It's not like you were upset at providing food for your tiny friend. Quite the contrary. You loved it when Gojo visited. You found him fascinating, the way he could fly miles and miles above your head. How tiny he was. The amount of times you had to hold yourself back from squishing him between your fingers because of how cute he was scared you. 

And you hoped you were fascinating enough to entertain Gojo. You had to be; you don't know why else he'd keep coming back. Even after gobbling down your cooking, he'd lounge around your home, entertaining you with his stories. You learned of the other magical creatures he was in contact with, the students he taught, and how fond he was of them. You don't know why he was so open about sharing his personal life with you, in the stories fae hated humanity, but you would never complain. 

It doesn't click as to why Gojo's so invested in you until he comes out and says it himself. 

"Instead of me coming back and forth like this, why don't you just come live with me?" He says, "I would cut down my flying time by a lot." 

You stare at him in amusement, sure he's joking. "I'm not sure how I'd fit in your house." You tease. "I'd probably crush all your furniture." 

"I can make my house bigger." He announces. "Don't worry 'bout it, just say yes." 

You stare at him, slowly realizing that he isn't as amused. He's still smiling, but there's no joke. 

"No," you finally say, "I'm not doing that." 

He cocks his head surprised as though he's never had someone reject him before. 

"What?" He asks, "Why not?"

"Well." You clear your throat. "For one, I'm human, and you're a fairie. I don't think Fae would appreciate a human wandering around in their lands." 

"Who cares about all that?" Gojo waves his hands around. "You'll be with me, anyways. It'd be fine." 

"I don't get why you're so fixated on the human realm." His mouth turns into a sneer. "It's all so boring. Nothing ever happens. And our magic is much more advanced than yours." It's true. You can't disagree with that. Satoru didn't wear clothes made out of leaves or vines, unlike the common fairy stereotype. His clothing looked much more advanced compared to your loose cotton dresses. A black shirt with intricate buttons and long sleeves. Along with black trousers. You wonder what material could make his suit so shiny. 

You laugh at his disgust. At that time, you saw Gojo as a tiny child clutching their mother's skirts, a cute puppy. You hadn't yet taken Gojo Satoru as the threat he was. 

"It's because I am human." You say, not offended by his remarks. "So I like being near other humans." 

He groans as though your logic makes no sense. "Yuji and the others ask about you all the time, though. They've been dying to meet you." 

"You talk to your students about the giant that cooks for you? I'm flattered." 

"You're dodging," he warns. You roll your eyes. 

"Satoru, I'm not coming to live with you. It'd be too much of a hassle." You finally say. "Besides, you're not my type." 

"I'm everyone's type." He argues. 

"Not mine." You smile, and then you make your first blunder. 

"I like my men a little taller." 

He stiffens, and you know you said the wrong thing. Your smile fades as does the cheery energy in your cottage. He says nothing, but he's zipping out your window before you can apologize. 

He doesn't return for the longest time. You count the weeks. Guilt weighs on your shoulders, heavy and burdensome. Every day you bake something even tastier than the day before. Not even that is enough to coax him back. 

You think you've lost him forever, when he returns on one sweltering summer evening. 

"Hi." You blink. He's watching you, sitting idly on the window, kicking his tiny feet. 

"Hi." He smiles. 

You're happy enough to grab him with one fist and hugging him to your chest, but as always, you stop yourself. Instead, a shy smile rests on your face. 

"I'm sorry," you say, "I really am...will you accept an apology pie?" 

He grins wider, and you relax. 

He eats, and you're grateful. Something you once cherished in your life has finally come back to you. You might not return Gojo's feelings, but you still care for him. You'd rather die than ever hurt him again. 

"No, you're right." Gojo surprisingly concedes when you apologize for the third time. "We're too different. It'd never work out. Not as the way you are, right now." 

You nod, grateful he's so understanding. "Exactly." 

He's finishing up when he announces he brought you a gift. 

"I've been working on it for the past few weeks," he cheerily says. "It took a while, but it's finally safe for human consumption." 

He takes out a tiny glass bottle filled with something swirling and blue. When he asks you to bring a glass of water, you acquiesce. To your astonishment, when the elixer is poured, the entire water becomes a swirling mass of a color comparable to none other than galaxies. You're so mesmerized by the color, it's enough to stump your voice. 

"For you!" He declares. "You've always been cooking for me; thought I might return the favor, just this once." 

"What is it?" You ask, amazed by the color. You admire the glance, unaware of the glint in Gojo's eye. 

"It's kinda like the wine you have in the mortal realms, but a little less poignant." He gives when you glance at him. "Go on, tell me what you think?" 

You're too trusting, and so you make your second blunder. 

Once you start, you can't seem to stop. The taste is otherworldly, addicting. You drink and drink, not wasting a single drop. You're breathing heavily once the cup detaches from your lips. 

"Amazing." You say before looking at him. His eyes are too wide, but you're too distracted by the taste still on your tongue. "Seriously, what was that? Can I make it here?" 

He scratches the back of his head. "Not really, the ingredients are pretty hard to find." He shrugs. "Besides, it's supposed to be a one-time use." 

Your eyebrows twist, and then the world sinks. 

You're falling. You think you are. You don't really know. Everything feels like it's stretching. The walls of your tiny little cottage get higher and higher and higher. The floor gets more and more warped. You're sinking, sinking through the air. When you scream, nothing comes out. You feel like you're choking because you can't breathe, and then your vision grows black. 

The next time you open your eyes. It's still dark, and to your horror, you realize you're buried underneath something. 

You panic, clawing and tearing your way out. The material gives away easily. It's fabric. Cotton. But there was so much, an undying ocean of fabric. You lift yourself up from the pile and that's when you realize you're completely naked. 

The mountain of cotton you just climbed to the top of was your old dress. 

Everything was gigantic—the table, the chairs. The windows seemed endless. The ceiling looked miles above you, and you know what happened, but your brain can't formulate it because it can't be—it just can't be.

There's a flutter of wings. You always thought he was so quiet before. Now, he's all you can hear. Immediately, you wrap your body with the cloth. It's hard to keep still; your body is buzzing with nerves and you still can't understand. You have to force yourself to look at him.

You don't know why you expected shock, guilt, something other than the pure manic glee on his face. Satoru towers above you, head tilted. He bends down, cupping your trembling face in his hand because he's big enough to do that now. 

"Just when I thought you couldn't get any more adorable." He coos. 

You can see him now. His skin isn't pale, it's borderline translucent. His canines are sharp and pointy. And his eyes. Oh God you've never seen eyes so terrifying before—an endless mass of blue, threatening to swallow you whole. 

He wasn't a cute little fairy. He was anything but that. 

"Gojo..." You start, heart squeezing. "What did you do.." 

You know. He knows. That's why he ignores your question entirely. 

"I'm surprised it worked." He says, mainly talking to himself. "Shoko said it might be a dud, and she was so sure of it, that I mostly believed her." 

"But now look at you!" He roughly pinches your cheek. "You're the perfect size now." 

"Stop." You blubber, pushing his hand off of you. "Don't touch me. Change me back. Change me back." 

He frowns. "Why would I do that? You being human-sized was always such a hassle. Lumbering around. Way too loud. Don't get me wrong, I adore you either way." He proclaims like it's something benevolent. "But this has its charm."

He leans forward, and you scuddle backward in fear. His grin widens. 

"So, am I tall enough for you, now?" 

[littlelovelunette]

Untamed Desires

Contains smut, spanking, mentions of ripping, fist-fucking, fingering, nipple clamps, mentions of inflatable dildo, squirting

Ambessa x Diva!Reader

Being Ambessa's wife meant having to attend extravagant events and parties which was good for you considering you were a party animal but the outfit selection was a complete nightmare. You were feeling extra haughty due to it, you had been on your feet the entire day and all the staff members assigned to help you get ready were walking on eggshells.

“Love, you have to be a little more lenient with them, they're trying their best,” Ambessa leaned against the doorway.

“I don't care, I look like shit! And all these stupid, puffy dresses make me look fat! Do something about it or I’m not going,” you huffed and crossed your arms.

Ambessa's lips pressed in a thin line for a few minutes. She didn't say anything and let the silence linger in the dressing room before she walked inside finally, gesturing to the staff to see their way out. They did, leaving the both of you alone in the huge dressing room.

“You did not just use that tone with me, young lady,” Ambessa’s hand wrapped around your neck.

You gasped for air, wincing at her touch and tried to pry her hand off your throat using both yours but it was of no use. She was hell-bent on making you pay for using that tone of voice and attitude towards her.

That's how you found yourself sprawled across Ambessa's lap with your reddened ass up in the air, counting down the number of spanks with a voice that was barely audible because of how much you were sobbing.

“I'm sorry, please,” you cried.

Ambessa didn't relent, “You need to learn the consequences of your actions, love.”

And with those words, another smack was delivered to your ass causing your whole body to jolt in pain, drool running down your mouth as you sobbed.

“H-hurts,” you trembled.

You were a bawling mess by the time Ambessa was done spanking your ass, bright red hand marks all over your butt. You were sure you wouldn't be able to sit down in comfort for a while after that, your skin stung with the pain from being spanked so hard.

“I'm sorry,” you babbled pathetically.

“There, there, shh,” Ambessa brought you close, lacing her fingers through your hair, “You've taken your punishment well, you deserve a reward.”

“I do?” You whispered.

“Yes, baby,” she responded.

Ambessa let you up from her lap so you could stand in front of her, she grabbed the golden clothes clips from the vanity surface where your makeup palettes were laid.

Ambessa grabbed your waist with one hand, other hand guiding one of the clips onto your left nipple causing you to gasp softly.

“I-It feels weird,” you stammered.

“Just hold still,” Ambessa ordered.

You didn't have the energy to resist so you let her put another clip on your other nipple. Ambessa tugged at the clip, the mouth of it digging into your sensitive nub.

You let out a small whimper, hands quickly grasping Ambessa's shoulders to steady yourself.

“Spread,” Ambessa tapped your inner thighs.

You spread your legs, standing with a good distance between both thighs so she could access your cunt. Ambessa's fingers rubbed your pussy lips, smearing the arousal and wetness all over your vulva.

“You're so wet, princess,” Ambessa purred.

Her fingers spread your pussy lips exposing your slit to herself, as her middle and ring fingers delved inside, you let out a small gasp of pleasure.

“It feels good, doesn't it?” Ambessa’s eyes were locked on your face, gauging your expression as if that's all it meant to her. She didn't care for your cunt, all she cared for was that you were feeling pleasure.

“Y-Yes, oh, it feels heavenly,” you moaned.

Ambessa's thick fingers disappeared inside your slit knuckles deep making your legs tremble but you held onto your balance. Her thumb— the rough, calloused pad of it— rubbed against your sensitive clitoris causing you to let out a high pitched moan. One you were sure the maids had heard.

Ambessa fingered you with rough efficiency, each and every thrust pushing deeper into your pussy.

“Your filthy pussy is drooling over my fingers, it's that good, is it?” Ambessa coaxed, “Coating my fingers completely, what a dirty little girl you are.”

You let out a small sound of protest, but just then you felt a third finger dip inside. “Ah! N-no, I'll rip,” you whimpered.

Ambessa didn't pay any heed to your begging if anything it only turned her on further. Your legs were violently shaking and you were so close to coming on her fingers but Ambessa had other plans.

Without any warning, she began slowly pumping her entire fist inside your cunt. If you hadn't taken all those inflatable dildos before, you were sure you would've ripped.

You were crying as Ambessa's fist nestled inside your pussy, the pain of the stretch was only a little bearable but the pleasure immense.

“Want me to start moving?” Ambessa inquired.

You nodded.

“Please, gently,” you sobbed.

Small whimpers and moans left your mouth as you felt Ambessa's fist start moving in your cunt.

Your legs shook even more than before if possible and your hands shot out to grab the back of the chair where Ambessa was calmly sitting.

"Dear me, is it really that good?" Ambessa teased as her golden eyes gauged your expression with years of expertise. She forced her fist deeper making you gasp, a small squeak issuing from you.

"Noooo..." You whined and before you knew it you were grinding back against her hand. You were moaning from her fist in your pussy and if that wasn't bad enough, you were now grinding against it.

"What a slut." Ambessa's eyes twinkled with amusement. She leaned back giving the most brutal few thrusts inside and that was enough.

"No! Please!" You pleaded but with the last thrust you squirted. All over the fucking place.

Ambessa slowly took her hand out of your spasming pussy, giving it a final rub before holding up her slick covered hand for you to see.

"Testament to your masochism." Ambessa said.

[viclaxuru-blog]

Good girl Bad girl

Tardé meses en hacerlo, aprecienlo :')

[nathanbatemanfucker]

Let Me Go (No Puedo) Pt. I

summary: the day you meet Joaquin is the day you decide that you won’t fall for him.

pairing: joaquin torres x f!wilson!reader

contents: 18+/MINORS DNI, forbidden romance, flirting, pining, longing, minimal angst, mentions or depictions of abusive parents

wc: 2,235

an: this one has been soooo fun to write with the mutual pining, will they won’t they energy. hope yall enjoy and feel free to share your thoughts with me <3

let me go (no puedo) masterlist

The day you meet Joaquin is the day you decide that you won’t fall for him.  

You and Sam weren’t related by blood, but he was like a big brother to you nonetheless. You’d do your sibling duty, and not fall for his newest partner— his closest friend since Steve besides Bucky.

You were there when Bucky had gotten a stern talking to about flirting with Sarah, and took it seriously. Obviously, it struck some nerve for Sam, two people he cared about deeply transcending their relationships with him to have one with one another.

And you owed Sam too much to betray him like that. He and Sarah had practically raised you due to your parents’ neglect. They always advocated for you, brought you food, and begged their parents to bring you along to errands and eventually family functions. By the time you were 15, you lived with them instead of your own family. 

The least you could do is not piss off your brother. That’s how much he meant to you— even if you felt an instant, undeniable pull towards Joaquin upon meeting him. Who wouldn’t when he’s so gorgeous, and charming?

“This is my little sister, I’ve mentioned her before.”

Joaquin raises his brows, smirking. “Have you? Because I feel like I would remember someone so—“

“Watch it,” Sam quips, his brows set as his eyes flicker between the two of you.

You extend your hand and Joaquin takes it, his handshake firm…his skin softer than you had imagined. “It’s good to meet you, Joaquin. I’ve heard a lot about you.” 

“All good things I hope?”

You laugh, nodding, “With how deep his glare is right now, I’m surprised at how good it all was.”

“I’m sure it won’t happen again.”

“You two finished?” Sam asks stiffly.

You reach out and give his shoulder a rub, hoping he takes it as reassurance that nothing will happen between you and Joaquin. No matter how much you may want something to happen.

“I need to go check the grill anyway,” You suggest, giving them both a wave as you start across the backyard.

“Nice meeting you!” Joaquin calls after you, and you glance over your shoulder at him giving him a wave in response.

It gives you a front-row seat to the way Sam snatches Joaquin closer by his t-shirt. Sam’s face has shifted from a simple glare to an intense glower. And though you can’t hear what he’s saying you know it’s something like:

“Don’t ever— and I mean ever flirt with my sister.”

It should’ve ended there. 

—

But, it didn’t. 

Sarah had mentioned redecorating more times than you can count and she finally bit the bullet. While that brought you some relief from mulling over color palettes, fabrics, and artwork it now meant that it was time to build everything.

You’re on your way over, headphones on as you sit tucked into the back corner of the bus with your toolbox in tow. 

When you get there there’s a man on the roof. No, not just any man— Joaquin is on the roof. Thank God you can’t get too good of a look at him, you can tell that his shirt is clinging to him in ways that would breed sinful thoughts. 

You’ll just head inside and hope he stays up there for most of the day, it’s silly and you know that he can’t, but a girl can dream and pray can’t she?

Apparently, the answer is no, because Joaquin glances over his shoulder as you walk up the stoned path. There’s no mistaking the bright grin that spreads across his face. He makes his way to the edge of the roof, plopping down with feet dangling over the edge.

“Hey, querida.”

“Hi, Joaquin. Sarah didn’t tell me you’d be here.”

His smile widens into something more teasing, and with the gap closing between you with each step you take, you can see the way his brown eyes shine. “Funny, you being here was one of her selling points for me.”

You feel your face grow warm despite the sticky Louisiana heat. Sam would be disappointed to know that you can’t be firm with Joaquin and tell him the two of you can’t do this. 

It was hard to resist him though when you felt this strange pull inside of you that begged to know him. 

“Good to know,” You murmur, a little shy by the way your eyes avoid his.  “I’ll see you inside?”

“Bet on it.”

When you make it inside, you immediately grill Sarah— it’s part of the Wilson tradition.

You come to stand in front of her, arms crossed against your chest. “Why the fuck didn’t you warn me that Joaquin would be here?”

“Oh, so there is something there. I was wondering,” She hardly looks up from the mail she’s thumbing through. 

“You were wondering?” You breathe incredulously.  

She shrugs, unphased by your anger. “He wouldn’t take his eyes off of you at the barbecue a few weeks ago and you just happened to avoid putting your eyes on him the whole time. I just had to know.”

“I don’t know, you could’ve asked!” You insist, annoyed. 

“So you could lie to my face? Yeah right. Now get to work, I’m making you both lunch and you have to earn it.”

There’s no use in arguing with Sarah, just like the rest of you she’s stubborn. But her stubbornness and her opinions have more weight as the oldest.

By the time you’ve halfway finished building her new coffee table, Joaquin makes his way inside. He has a slight sheen to him from the sweat, and you were right— being this close to him, seeing the way his shirt molded to his skin did conjure salacious thoughts.

Thoughts you forced yourself to swallow down as you turned your eyes back to the screw you were tending. 

“Roof’s all good. Where do you want me?”

“Could you put up those shelves? I figured you two could build the couch together once all the small stuff is down.”

You scoff softly, rolling your eyes even as you keep them focused on the task at hand.

Joaquin looks at you, intrigued. “Not a fan of manual labor, querida?”

“I’m fine with it, this just better be the best lunch I’ve ever had.”

“It will be because I made it,” Sarah retorts, unable to keep her knowing grin at bay.

Joaquin just looks between the two of you, wise enough not to put himself in the crossfire of sisters arguing— he’d take identifying some alien species or destroying missiles any day. 

The three of you settle into your respective tasks until you’re looking for the last few screws to complete the coffee table. They’re nowhere to be found.

“Joaquin, do you have 10-inch screws in your kit?”

He’s moving to his box immediately, riffling through it with an urgency that would make you think it’s life or death.

“No, ‘looks like just 8 inch. It’s particular isn’t it?” He asks, but before you can answer he’s making his way over to you so that he can read the manual with you. “Particular,” He repeats. “I can run and grab you some.”

“No, no, I can get them.”

“Déjame. It’s fine. Here,” He fishes his phone out of his back pocket and hands it to you.

“What’s this for?”

His eyes are wide, innocent but his mouth quirks into a smug smile. “So I can send you pictures and make sure I get the right ones.”

You hesitate for a fraction of a second but don’t have it in you to resist despite knowing that Sarah is watching your every move. Because if you’re being honest, with Joaquin so close and so clearly happy to see you, it feels like no one else exists. 

Typing in your number quickly, you hand the phone back to him, your hands accidentally brushing his. This casual touch that should mean nothing sends a flicker of electricity through your skin. Joaquin must feel it too because his gaze meets yours, going a little hazy. 

That is how you and Joaquin end up exchanging phone numbers. And for a long while, it’s radio silent.

—

You’re sure that the universe is trying to send you spiraling. It was already a rough day at work, and you could feel a migraine coming on, tension settling into your shoulders. Usually, you’d talk to Sam about it but he was away on a mission with Joaquin in a completely different time zone. 

Sam had sent you some texts of reassurance but you didn’t want to bother him further, not when whatever he was doing was probably keeping the world spinning.

You’ve stepped out of the shower and are trying your best to massage the tautness out of your flesh when your phone rings.

Maybe Sam had finished up early. You don’t bother looking down at your phone, you simply answer it and continue with your massage.

“God, I’m glad you called. Today fucking sucked.”

“So I heard. I’m glad I called too then, hermosa,” Joaquin’s smooth voice comes over the line, softer than ever.

Your blood goes completely cold as if you’re being hunted for sport and you freeze, eyes wide as you stare at yourself in the mirror.

After several moments of silence, he asks, “Te fuiste?” 

“No, I’m here. I’m— I didn’t know that you— you called me?”

“Sam said you had a bad day, but he’s beat. Passed out as soon as we got on the plane. I figured I’d check on you.”

“Well, thank you.”

“No sweat. You wanna talk about your day?”

You should say no. Leave it at thanking him and hang up the phone, but it’s like all of the blood in your brain has traveled to your heart. It squeezes with endearment. He wanted to check on you despite knowing that this couldn’t go anywhere. What’s one phone call? He’s being a friend. Who are you to deny that?

“Honestly, I’d rather talk about anything but.”

“Mmm, okay, okay. Then tell me what you do for fun?”

“Nine times out of ten somehow I end up with Cass and AJ. They’re so adventurous for their age, so…brave. Every single day they teach me something new. Kind of a lame answer but—“

“No, it’s not. You love your family. There’s nothing lame about that, querida.”

“Thanks,” You breathe shyly, a soft smile pulling at your lips. “What about you?”

“You know the drill, not much time for fun when you’re being dragged around the globe.”

“Dragged? You’re certainly willing.”

“Ready and willing on more levels than you know. But, yeah, it kind of absorbs your life. If we’re not on a mission, I’m training or sleeping or eating. Sometimes I’m lucky enough to get a drink with a friend or watch a movie.”

“And your family?”

“Just me and mi abuela,” He admits. 

You didn't know that—that Joaquin didn’t have parents either. Not with his confidence, his willingness to be open and vulnerable. In the beginning, when you had finally realized and accepted that your parents didn’t want to care for you an intense loneliness had taken root in you. You find yourself growing even more curious about him, wondering if it impacted him similarly.  

“Sam never told me that.”

“Let’s be real, Sam’s avoiding telling you anything about me since we met.”

“I’m sure it’s vice versa.”

“Yeah, I was surprised he mentioned you tonight. He must’ve been really worried. This helping?”

“It’s helping. Thank you, Joaquin.”

“I told you, descuida. I— I like talking to you. More than I should. Or should I say more than Sam would like.”

“Sam doesn’t like a lot of things if that makes you feel better.”

“Trust me, yo sé. Enough about that guy— what do you dislike?”

You end up staying on the phone with Joaquin for hours, putting him on speaker once you finally finish your skincare and head to the kitchen to make dinner. He asks you questions about your taste in food and film. What your favorite thing is about your siblings. If there’s something you think about before you close your eyes at night and when you wake up in the morning. You’re sure that he’s truly listening by the way he hums or the follow-up questions he asks, and his answers to the questions are just as thoughtful.

When you finally let out a yawn, Joaquin glances at his watch.  He frowns, he hadn’t meant to keep you up, especially not after a difficult day. “What time is it there?”

Through another yawn, you say, “Oh, um, it's almost 2 a.m.”

“You should head to bed, hmm? Get a good night’s sleep so you don’t have another shitty day.”

“2 a.m. is nothing,” You insist, not ready to let the conversation end just yet. You were sure you’d never get an opportunity like this again with him; that was for the best. 

“Cierra los ojos, querida,” He murmurs. His voice is so gentle it makes your heart ache with longing. “I’ll still be here tomorrow.”

Both of you know that’s not true though. You know that tomorrow you’ll pretend this call never happened. And if Joaquin knows what’s good for him, he’ll do the same.

“Goodnight, Joaquin. Thank you again.”

“Goodnight, hermosa. I’m always happy to help you.”

> pt. ii

must be 18+ & have age displayed to be on taglist!

joaquin taglist: @magikdarkholme, @plan3t-plut0, @mewmew222, @linnygirl09, @ezhz444, @karmaswitch, @badbishsblog, @glader13, @how2besalty, @happypopcornprincess, @hiireadstuffsometimes, @lisiliely, @spider-steve, @nolita-fairytale, @hrlzy, @faretheeoscar, @giuliahowlett, @abriefnirvana, @fanboyswhore9 , @sidkneeeee, @sophreakingfunny, @heartbreakgirlism, @peachyxlynch, @lomlbuckybarnes, @a-randomscrub, @ajcs150, @glimodejun, @isuckatmath, @arsonhotchner, @sidkneeeee, @galaxywannabe, @retrosabers, @marchingicenotes7, @marroonwitch, @jaebugzz, @that-girl-named-alex, @bxtchboy69 , @mischiefmanaged71, @something-random-idk, @dualinstinct, @alevanswrites, @articel1967, @lanoviadestiles, @zolassalgorhythm, @peacefangirl, @soularsss, @everydaydreamer, @violetpassionfruit

[purritogato]

María and Grunge cousin bond!!!

These are little doodles I made a while back. I thought I show more of them and their dynamic!

[mischievousmoony]

𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛

⟢ rockstar!sirius black x reader ⟢ you do your boyfriends makeup before he goes on stage ⊹ 1.2k ⟢ warnings/tags: just fluff ⟢ note: inspired by luke hemmings (my beloved) because i think sometimes his wife does his makeup!

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

“Keep your head still,” you mutter, lifting the brush from your boyfriend’s eyelid momentarily as to not mess up your work.

Sirius’ head had dipped down again, his attention being drawn elsewhere. His hands squeeze at your waist, “I can’t help it. You look ravishing tonight, darling.”

You hook your pointer finger under his chin and bring his unabashed eyes back to yours, shaking your head disapprovingly as you do, which only makes him look even more brazen.

“Close your eyes,” you command softly as your hand slides up his face, your thumb finding its way to his cheekbone to brush off some powdery fallout.

Sirius hums in protest. “You said I didn’t have to right now.”

“Now I’m saying you do,” your voice is teasing, yet he finds it melodic.

Sirius playfully huffs but lets his eyes flutter closed, reasoning with himself that while he may not be able to see you, he can relish in your touch. The hands on your waist travel to the small of your back to ease you closer until you stand between his legs, which he presses into your sides once he has you where he wants you.

You graciously let your boyfriend move you as he pleases while you coat your eyeshadow brush in a murky blue pigment. You give it a tap on the edge of the palette to shake off any excess before returning the bristles to his eyelid. You’re going for a smokey blue look tonight, incorporating Sirius' staple component: glitter, of course.

Your pinky grazes his neck as you move to tilt his head, giving you better access to the left side of his face. You feel a content rumble from his throat below the tip of your finger.

Sirius’ large hands slowly drag up and down your back until they diverge, one going up to rest between your shoulder blades and the other stooping lower until he can grab at the back of your thigh.

You ignore the way it has your stomach in knots. Sirius is trying to distract you with the way his hand curls around your leg, his fingertips brushing gently against your inner thigh. But he's due to be on stage any minute now, so you need to finish his eyeshadow swiftly and send him on his way.

The shiver down your spine is goes ignored as you place the eyeshadow brush on the table. Your hands find either side of his jaw as you tilt his head side to side, making sure you're happy with your blending of the shades of blue.

"Done?" Sirius asks, eye still closed.

"Almost."

You find a clean, new brush— the one you like for packing on pigment— and dip it into a shimmery, blue glitter. You begin to pack it onto his lids. If you had been doing your own makeup, you would normally hold a tissue or piece of card stock under your eye to catch any specks of glitter that rained down on your cheeks. Sirius, however, likes the way the excess glitter looks, sometimes even opting to smudge extra below his eyes, dragging it nearly halfway down his cheeks.

Once finished with the glitter, you do the same as before, turning his head in your hands to inspect your work.

"Done now?" Sirius is getting fidgety. He can usually sit pretty for you, captivated by your beauty, he says. But since he had to be cheeky and force you to command that his eyes be closed, he's getting a little antsy.

"Patience," you mean to scold him, but you can never waver your tone from amusement with him.

Originally, this is the finished product that you planned. But upon seeing it, you think he needs a pop of brightness. Choosing a more precise packing brush for the job, you add a white shimmer to his inner corners.

As you pull the brush away from his face, you're instantly happy with your decision.

"Okay, open," you say warmly.

Sirius is more than happy to oblige. You're inspecting the shadow in your usual way and Sirius drinks you in. Your teeth drag over your bottom lip, and he can barely help himself from capturing it in between his own pearly whites.

Your gaze is scrutinizing, and Sirius can tell that you're not all the way happy with the look.

"What is it?" Sirius asks. Expecting something to be off, his hand travels from between your shoulder blades to the nape of your neck, playing with your hairs there the way you like in an effort to bring you comfort.

"No, it's rather lovely. It's just—" your eyes dart down to his lips and it takes a lot of restraint to not interrupt you by smashing his own against them— "I know you usually only do your eyes, but this look would be stunning with some glossy lips."

"Yeah?" Sirius is the one eyeing your lips now, "Like what you have on now?"

You're wearing a pinky, translucent gloss with flecks of glitter in it. For Sirius, you were thinking any old clear gloss would do, but the more glitter the better.

You tilt your head side to side, weighing the options.

"That could work, let me grab it out of my—"

Any restraint Sirius once had snaps, and your words are lost on your tongue when he pulls you in by your neck, capturing your lips in a fervid kiss.

You're not even caught off guard, used to being interrupted by Sirius' lips.

"You can't expect to run that pretty mouth of yours for long before I can't resist a taste," he always says.

His one hand remains on the back of your thigh, his fingertips digging into your pillow soft skin when your lips part for him, allowing his tongue entrance. He can taste the vodka cran you've been sipping, prompting a guttural sound from his throat that vibrates against your lips.

When he pulls away from you, he captures your bottom lip between his teeth like he'd been longing to, dragging them over the plump flesh slowly until your lip freely bounces back into place.

"How's that look?" Sirius asks, his voice huskier than usual.

Your eyes flick down to his lips, slightly swollen and coated in a sheen of your shiny pink gloss.

"You're a dream, baby," you say breathlessly, running a thumb around his plush lips to capture the excess gloss, "Wanna see?"

You don't wait for his answer before you're snatching up a hand mirror, ready to show off tonight's eye look.

"Stunning as always," Sirius murmurs, admiring your handiwork with quiet approval. When you weren't around, his makeup consisted of a smudge of glitter to his lids with the pad of his finger. Though, despite your willingness to teach, he'd never risk sharpening his skills, worried there would be less moments like these in the future if he did.

"That's just my canvas," you muse, smoothing your thumb against his jawline.

There's a knock on the door, jolting you out of your moment of admiration. A muffled voice calls, "You're on in five, Sirius!"

Sirius doesn't seem phased, a smirk dancing on his lips as he pushes your body close again, "I guess we have a few more minutes on our hands."

By the time has to rush to stage, you've had to hastily apply a new coat of gloss on both him and yourself, the original layer having been thoroughly kissed away.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

[scribblesofagoonerr]

Mascot Memories | Never Grow Up

this is the first part of the small 3 part series that i have lined up next

summary: remi is 3 years old and she is a mascot at leah's game for the first time during the world cup in 2027

pairings: leah williamson x reader

“Someone’s excited to be a mascot at Mummy’s game today, aren’t you?” You couldn’t help but beam with a smile as you bent down to your daughters’ level.

“Yes!” Remi’s eyes are dancing with excitement at the prospect of being able to be a mascot in England's opening game of the World Cup that is being hosted in Brazil, “I’ll be the best mascot ever, Mumma!”

You press a kiss to the top of your little girl's head and smile at her, “I’m sure that you will be, baby girl,” You pause as you pick up the small jersey hung up on the hanger, “Do you want to get changed into your football shirt?”

“Wear Mummy’s number?” Remi asks, curiously.

“You bet, Remi Roo!” You nod encouragingly, helping your little girl shed her previous t-shirt in favour of the football jersey with Leah’s number written on the back of it, “You look just like Mummy now.”

“There’s my baby Gooner!” Leah’s voice appears out of nowhere, walking into the changing rooms as she’s almost tackled to the floor by Remi.

“Mummy!” Your 3 year old crashes directly into your wife’s legs. 

“Ooft,” Your wife let out a grunt of pain when the whirlwind of a toddler ran into her, “When did you get so big?” She questions, crouching down to your daughter’s level.

“Mumma keeps feeding me all of them veggies that ‘ou don't like,” Remi retorts cheekily, poking fun at Leah’s childish food palette that limited her to only a several few things that she seemed to like to eat – The only veggie she will eat being peas, and even those she thinks are too exoctic to eat.

“Of course she does,” Leah chuckles in amusement as she takes a look Remi donned in her own Jersey with her name on, “Well don’t you look the part.”

“I look just like you do!” Remi grins, dressed in a tiny England jersey to match Leah’s with her hair pulled back into two playful pigtails, and a pair of white Nike trainers, “Even Mumma said that I did!”

“You do indeed,” Leah replies in agreement and holds her hand out for your little girl to take, “It’ll be time to line up soon, do you want to come and stand with me? I bet you we’ll hear the roar of the crowd from there!”

“Yeah!” Remi bounces up and down on the balls of her feet, her excitement palpable as you can indeed hear the noise coming from inside the stadium, a mixture of England travelling fans and the fans of the home team. It’s a feeling that leaves you with a buzz of your own excitement.

“Alright then,” Your wife smiles and turns in your direction, “Say bye to Mumma and Essie and we’ll make our way out there.” She tells her, gesturing to your 8 month old baby girl Esme Beau Williamson, born in September 2026.

“Bye, Bear. Bye, Mumma. Love ‘ous!” Remi rambles quickly with energy bursting through her, leaning over to give her little sister a kiss on the head and crash her little arms around you.

“I love you too, baby girl,” You tell her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head, “Have fun out there with Mummy, okay? We’ll be watching you!” You add, gesturing to the fact that Amanda and Jacob, Leah’s mum and brother were joining you to watch in the stands.

“She’s going to be absolutely fine, love,” Leah reassures you, sensing your initial nerves due to the fact that Remi would be walking out onto the pitch with your wife for the first time and you are worried about how she might take that overall, “I’ve got her. I love you.”

“I love you too,” You respond, pressing a gentle kiss against your wife’s lips, “Good luck out there, superstar. Make us all proud!” You add, moving to fix the captain’s armband around your wife’s arm and kissing it for good luck, a ritual you’ve come to do every game that you attend.

“I aim to just do that,” Your wife grins, a flash of cockiness taking over her face for a second before she peppers small kisses on Esme’s forehead, “Bye, Essie Bear. I hope to make you proud too. I love you.”

The stadium erupts into loud cheers as you watch your wife hold Remi in her arms as they make their way onto the pitch, your daughter is waving enthusiastically out to the crowd of England fans as there’s not a single trace of shyness in her demeanour.

Leah, ever the professional, keeps her focus with her stern game face plastered but even she can’t help the smile that tugs at her lips every time she gazes at her daughter. For the first time you’ve ever witnessed, your wife actually breaks her stern expression as the spotlight is on your daughter.

“Remi looks so grown up,” Amanda speaks aloud from where she’s standing in the stands amongst you, Jacob and Esme, cradled against your chest, as she watches in adoration of Leah and Remi on the pitch.

“Don’t say that too loud or Leah will freak out,” Jacob jokes, regarding Leah’s fear of Remi growing up too quickly. It’s now become a somewhat ongoing joke in your family now.

“Speaking off, look how proud Le looks,” You say, watching your wife and daughter with tears welling up in your eyes.

“This is definitely a moment to treasure forever,” Amanda chimes in, wiping one of her own tears away.

“I swear she might even relent from her usual stern frown,” Jacob jokes watching as Leah stood tall and proud in her captain’s armband, her face glowing with both excitement and pride, “Rem looks adorable though!”

“I mean, there’s always a first,” You remark in amusement as you watch your wife and daughter on the pitch, feeling insanely proud of them both.

The sun shines brightly over the sprawling stadium in Brazil, where the energy of the World Cup is palpable. Fans gather in vibrant colours and flags fill the stands, creating a sea of excitement and anticipation just as the national anthem plays and you can’t help but smile looking out onto the pitch while you look at your daughter who is beaming with an infectious smile.

“I think I might cry,” You murmur, overwhelmed with pride watching them as the National Anthem begins to play.

“You and me both, darling,” Amanda replies in agreement, her eyes are misty.

“Can you see your Mummy and your big sister, Es?” Jacob holds Esme in his arms like the proud uncle he is and points his index finger in the direction of where Leah and Remi are standing on the pitch amongst the rest of the England team, “Look, there they are!”

“Mummy! There’s so many people!” Remi’s voice is quiet and in awe, her eyes gazing around the stadium at the several thousands of fans in the stadium, “Are all these people here for ‘ou?”

Leah chuckles fondly as she keeps a gentle grip on your toddler, “Only half of them, baby Gooner,” She pauses as she points with her index finger in the direction of where you all sat in the stands, “Over there is Mumma, Essie, Nana and Uncle Jacob over there? Give them a wave!”

“Will they be able to see me from this far away?” Remi asks, curiously as she waves brightly in the direction and you can’t help but smile in adoration of the pair together, “It's so far away!”

“I bet they will,” Leah nods in agreement, spinning slightly to look over in the direction of the giant screen and then towards a camera, “Do you see that big screen over there? There’s a camera on the pitch and Mumma will be able to see you, even from all the way over here.”

“Wow,” Remi’s eyes widen in amazement as she eagerly waves in the direct eyeline of the camera and her mouth forms the perfect O as she sees herself on the screen for the first time, “Mummy! I’m on the screen with ‘ou!”

“You are,” Your wife couldn’t help but laugh faintly as the end of the National Anthem played, which meant that it was time for the coin toss and captain duties, “Do you want to come do something extra special with me?” She asks.

“Uh huh!” Remi’s eye’s gleam with excitement at the prospect of doing something extra special according to your wife as she continues to carry Remi over to where Leah stands  together with her teammates, with Remi perched on her hip to take a photo.

“Remember to smile, Rem,” Beth, one of Leah’s fellow team mates for club and country, reminds your little girl as she ruffles her hair playfully, “Don’t be frowny like your Mummy now.” She jokes, poking fun at your wife’s impartial need to always scowl during a team photo.

“I don’t frown all the time,” Leah retorts, scowling at the blonde.

“Yes you do, Mummy!” Remi’s little voice replies in agreement as she giggles, “You don’t scowl at me or Bear though!” With those words in mind, Leah can’t help but crack a laugh and the official photographer manages to capture the moment, history is changed that your wife actually broke her stern expression during a team photo.

“Mumma!” Remi shouts running across to you as fast as her little legs will let her, “Did ‘ou see me out there? I waved at ‘ou!”

“I did see you, baby girl!” You scoop her up into your arms, twirling her around as she giggles with delight, “You were amazing! The best little mascot I have ever seen!”

Your eldest daughter continues to bounce up and down in excitement, “I was on the big screen with Mummy!” 

“We saw that, Tiny,” Jacob grins, ruffling your daughters’ hair, “You looked like a champ out there!”

“We’re so proud of you sweetheart,” Amanda chimes in, pressing a kiss to the top of Remi’s forehead.

“And I even got to take a photo with Mummy, Auntie Beth and everyone else!” Remi continues to ramble, a tone of excitement in her voice still as she slumps back to sit on Amanda’s lap to watch the match play out.

“Mummy’s gonna win!” Your little girl declares, confidently.

“That’s the hope, baby girl,” You agree with her, brushing a loose strand of hair out of her face, “We’re going to cheer her on though, no matter what. Mummy is a winner to us, no matter what. Right, Remi Roo?”

“Right, Mumma! I will be the best cheerleader ever!” Remi exclaims, nodding enthusiastically in agreement, “Mummy’s the best footballer I know!”

This game might have just been one of many in Leah’s career, but this day certainly was special and one to cherish, being able to watch your wife and daughter walk out onto the pitch together. 

A memory that you will always remember, shining bright in your heart.

© scribblesofagoonerr