#Not defending everything he says. I just want to make that VERY clear!

[thelastchappie]

Coming out as an abo fiend to say i have this headcannon that maybe curses in jjk have abo-ish tendencies.

Mentions of scenting and scent marking.

(i apologize if i jump from past to present tense im doing my best and time means nothing to me). The PoV might switch around bc idk what im doing.

Anyways i hope you like it idk if it’s any good this was more of a self-indulgent thing that got carried away.

~

Choso had acclimated to his human vessel while among other curses. But imagine him after everything, post Shibuya Incident let’s pretend the tragedy wasn’t as tragic for sanity’s sake, his world is turned upside down and his loyalty now to his newly discovered brother Yuuji.

And as a consequence to this new familial connection, came an involvement in the jujutsu world, and by proxy, the human world.

Everything was different once again, humans didn’t seem to pay much mind to the small things like changes in scent, or how much of their own scent they left behind. Not that humans projected much of a scent to begin with. Stress sweat, hormone fluctuations, blood, the odd moment of arousal he’d rarely catch; none of the nuance and depth he was used to.

While an adjustment, if it meant he would be allowed to see his brother, then the half-curse would take it all in stride. He didn’t care to fraternize with most of the humans around anyways. Choso thinks they probably don’t want much to do with him either, only kept around because he’s too dangerous to just be let go. He assumes his blood connection to one of their students makes getting rid of him… complicated. As it stood, Choso could count on one hand how many sorcerers were willing to come into close proximity with him.

And then there’s you.

A well-ranked, well-respected Jujutsu sorcerer to whom he’d been handed over like a possession to be traded off. The higher ups were displeased with the idea of Choso keeping permanent residency at the school, and of course they’d take the opportunity to stress that the half-curse ‘could not be trusted without supervision’.

Your technique gave the elders reassurance you could hold your own if you needed to defend yourself against Choso’s Blood Manipulation. So without much more thought or consideration, not even towards you, he was sent off to live with you indefinitely.

It’s clear you weren’t considered in the decision, you’re not even prepared to provide space for another human-ish being. You live in a one bedroom apartment- not uncomfortable by any means, but clearly not meant to be shared by two essential strangers.

It’s an adjustment for the both of you, this very odd new living arrangement. But Choso can see, beneath the tense shoulders and clipped attempts at conversation, that you really are trying to make the half-curse feel comfortable in your home. His new home, which is an odd thought but nonetheless true until further notice.

~

“Where are we going today?” A low voice, coming from the kitchen doorway, startles you from your morning routine of staring straight the wall while you drink your coffee.

“Hm?”

“You have a mission today, yes? Where?” Straight to the point, as always. The half-curse ‘needs’ to be under constant supervision, which means your missions are his missions. Wherever you go he follows, for the most part. It had become quite common to see you roaming the halls of Jujustu Tech, with a second shadow marching diligently behind you. Unnerving for most of the sorcerers around, but you had already grown accustomed to the second set of footsteps. Even if out of necessity, the tense atmosphere had finally begun to fade after a month or two, just slightly.

His unwavering stare, while not looking surprised at your wandering mind, still serves to remind you he’d asked a question.

“Ah-“ You clear your throat. “Actually i’m pretty sure Yuuji is stopping by with Gojo. You’re with them today, that sounds nice, right?”

Choso does enjoy the prospect of spending the day with his brother. Only getting to see the teen when lucky enough to run into him at the school, or on the odd occasion when your mission for the day is to sub in as a teacher for Yuuji and his classmates. So to be allowed an entire day with his brother? He should be ecstatic.

But something in the back of his mind won’t let him bask in that small luxury he’s been given.

An itch that wasn’t there before.

After a prolonged amount of time in your now-shared apartment, Choso began allowing more and more of his scent to linger around the space. Marking things; leaving his trace in the couch cushions he sleeps on most nights, hand towels in the kitchen, and most heavily around the doorway.

All of it serving little purpose aside from bringing the half-curse comfort, humans lacking the senses to detect his attempts of claiming his space. But it helps the raven haired man to feel he belongs in the place he was forced into. He doesn’t even think you’re aware he’s doing it, doesn’t know if humans even know it’s a thing.

Which brings him to his current dilemma. He’s not sure when it’s happened, hasn’t been allowed to be apart from you long enough to notice. And now, faced with reality of you going off on a mission without him; it’s the only thing he can think of.

He hasn’t scented you.

Choso can’t pinpoint why it matters, but the thought of leaving without covering you in his scent has his chest tightening and his hands threatening to shake. He’s always respectful of you and your belongings, not wanting to be bold enough to mark things that aren’t his.

Up until now it hadn’t been significant, he’s always in close proximity; his scent always nearby, even if not on you. And maybe that’s why he hadn’t noticed before; the shift in perspective. The need to have you smelling like him, a warning sign to the outside world. He’s not sure what he’s trying to warn against just yet. But it’s an urge stronger than breathing, and he’s sure he’ll die if you walk out that door without a hint of him on you.

Like a gift from the universe, his spiraling thoughts are interrupted by a soft, still tired voice.

“Not to be rude or anything but..” You hesitate, biting your lip and Choso tracks the movement with keen eyes, barely noticing the way your hands come up to gesture towards your own head. “Your hair, did you- are you planning on going like that? it’s just they’re a little… uneven” Your voice trails off.

Truthfully, Choso had simply not let down his hair from the day before in the hopes it would still be acceptable today. Though the strands he feels sticking out from each pigtail inform him he was not successful. But dark haired man feels something, maybe a little shameful crawl up his spine at the opportunity presented.

“Yes, i suppose i haven’t had much practice.” He admits bashfully, not a lie but not entirely truthful. He’s grown adept at schooling his own hair into its signature style. He hopes you don’t notice this fact, along with the heat beginning to flush his ears.

“I was hoping i could ask for your assistance?” He tries, his monotone voice carrying an air of hesitation that’s hard to ignore.

“Oh! Of course, yeah i can do that!” You jump, seeming eager to help. Always willing to help him navigate the intricacies of the human world. Always willing to explain anything, from the smallest social nuance to important customs he wasn’t completely aware of; eyes full of kindness instead of contempt.

He never really stood a chance, he realizes.

“c’mon, i need you to sit over on the couch if you want me to reach” You add while walking past him to exit the kitchen, a hand reaching up to lightly nudge his shoulder in direction of the living room.

Choso takes a moment to swallow the saliva pooling in his mouth before he trails behind you, as he always does.

This time thankful that you can’t smell the way his scent begins to roll of him in waves, practically smothering the entire apartment. Notes of it growing warm and heady, even if just to himself. Meant to be alluring, enticing; now it serves to remind Choso of his impropriety as he stalks closer and closer.

To any curse in the nearby vicinity it would be a statement, clear and undeniable.

Choso intended to court the human sorcerer.

[akechis-special-case]

Shoutout to Ted for saying this

I can't. I'm wheezing. Help!

[deathbxnny]

Arcane characters when someone flirts with you. | Viktor, Jayce, Vi, Caitlyn, Jinx, Sevika x Gn!Reader

I am the brain rot. The brain rot is me.✨️

Content: pre season 2 Viktor/Jayce!, Jealousy, pitfighter Vi, established romantic relationships, angst, threats of violence/death threats, sfw

Reader has no set pronouns.

((Not proofread))

》VIKTOR

He always struggled with self-esteem issues, mainly due to his sickness and disability that made it difficult for him to do much. A part of him forever will believe that you could easily do better than him, yet that doesn't stop him from getting terribly jealous anytime someone gets too friendly with you. Especially when they can see him standing next to you clearly being your partner as well.

But despite his insecurities, he doesn't allow anyone to harass you either on his watch. He lets you defend yourself for the most part until he has enough and lets his more sassy side handle the flirtatious person for you. He may not be able to do anything in a physical way, something he very much would rather avoid. But his tongue is sharp, and it takes little to make them quickly scurry away with a nervous apology for the disturbance.

He'll never admit to being jealous, however, and denies any teasing accusations you send his way. But he'll secretly ask for reassurance as he starts feeling embarrassed over his insecurities rather quickly after. A couple of hugs and kisses from your side will fix that right up, though.

》JAYCE

He has a reputation to keep up. And so, technically, he should always handle things professionally no matter what. People are watching him after all, and his public image can not be tarnished under any circumstance... or so he says. Things change in his mind when they are about you. In general, people know who you are and who you belong to since he rarely shuts up about it.

But every now and then, someone who is somehow unfamiliar with this concept will come up to you and attempt to woo you right in front of his very eyes. Now, Jayce tries to let you handle yourself, but doesn't hesitate to step in either if the person doesn't get the hint. His rather intimidating frame and position as a councilor help him out Immensely with this. He chases them away with a tight smile and a kiss to your head, as he casually asks how he can oh so graciously help them.

Once they leave, he'll pretend not to hear you, of you teasingly asking him if he was jealous. Him? Jealous? Hah! Impossible... okay, maybe a little. But don't tell anyone that.

》VI

As a pitfighter, Vi doesn't hesitate to get violent with anyone who comes close to the only good thing she has left in her life, which happens to be you. She's extremely protective and makes sure everyone gets the hint regarding who you belong to. But alas, there are always the couple strays that refuse to comprehend that fact and therefore attempt to "steal" you away from her. Something that never ends well for anyone.

Her temper is shorter than it used to be, and that becomes quite clear when she's quick to loom over the person that was pestering you. She knows that you can handle yourself just fine, too. But that doesn't stop her from grabbing their shoulder and asking them if she can help them out instead. Or maybe they want to talk it out in the pit? All the same to her, but the message is clear. She'll win if it comes to you every time, and that's enough to make the person scurry away in terror.

You'll definitely have to calm her down and reassure that you had everything handled. She's just looking out for you, though, and doesn't want you to get hurt, too, like everyone else in her life. The last thing she wants is to mess up again, so her overprotective tendencies will probably never lessen. Not that you kind anyways.

》CAITLYN

Your role as her partner is crystal clear to absolutely everyone in Piltover, especially after she takes over the troops as their new ruler. She's much more cutthroat and cold than she used to be before her mothers death, which made her extremely overprotective of you and your safety. She may even be suffocating at times with her security measures, but she finds it absolutely necessary. This also means, however, that those who try becoming a bit too friendly with you are always at risk of facing her wrath.

She doesn't hold back with her dismay and is quick to stand before you with a dark, stern glare directed at whoever was flirting with you beforehand. Caitlyn doesn't care if you can take care of yourself or not either. She'll take full advantage of her new position and power too, not hesitating to give the person that was pestering you a professionally worded threat that leaves them as pale as a ghost.

Admittedly, it's hard to tell if she's jealous or just worried in her own way. Before her mother's death, it may very well just be her being a bit jealous... but with her current position, she may also just be afraid to lose you too deep down. And she couldn't handle that.

》JINX

After Silco's death, Jinx's temper is milder than before due to her deteriorating mental health (if there was anything left of it to begin with). She's a lot calmer when handling situations and seeming more calculated than before, but that certainly doesn't quell the extreme abandonment issues in her at any rate. If anything, they've become much worse than before. This means that she'll cling to you and snap at anyone who nears you. No one is allowed to steal your attention away from her. No one can take you away from her. She just won't allow it when you're all she has left.

And so, she won't hesitate to use her gun on anyone who is pestering you. A death threat or two usually gets the point across anyway. Jinx will also let you handle yourself first, however though, knowing you can easily do that. But if things do get out of hand, she will step right to scare them away at best. She'd never kill anyone infront of you after all. She doesn't want to scare you away.

You'll have to reassure her of your loyalty a lot afterward, however, as her insecurities and issues can make her spiral fairly easily. Giving her a lot of attention and love makes everything go away, though, luckily.

》SEVIKA

She's very secure in your relationship and trusts you perfectly fine, which is why she rarely ever gets jealous. Why should she, anyway, when you'll always come back to her at the end of the day? Besides, people in the lanes know who you are and who you belong to, and most importantly, what will happen to their faces once she bashes them in if they ever harass you too much.

With that said, though, she typically lets you do your own thing and chase the person away yourself first before bothering to step in. If things get out of hand, then she'll suddenly be right behind you and tower over whoever it is that's not getting the hint. Blowing smoke right into their faces, she'll ask them if they have a problem, and if yes, then they should take it up with her outside. Although everyone knows she's the only one back afterwards. This usually does the trick.

Don't expect her to ever say that she is jealous, though, and hopes you know better, too. She knows you're loyal, as she certainly is for life and therefore doesn't worry about a thing regarding the strength of your relationship.

No one is better than her anyway.

[occamstfs]

Man-Candle

Under the guise of a gag-gift Chad gives his bookish friend a candle based on his own b.o. Little does Stephen know, as soon as he lights the wick he sets off to join the jock in sweaty abandon.

Very musk forward Jock TF! Hope you enjoy this story of Stephen's scent-based (new)self-discovery, Best! -Occam

His ears ring with tinnitus as he opens the gift. It’s as if an explosion has gone off as he tries to process the pancake in his hands. Everything in him says to laugh, it’s clearly a gag gift, a Man-Candle? His mouth is dry and all the blood in his head rushes to its other epicenter as Stephen looks up, eyes wide, to the man who by all appearances has given him a candle of his own musk, Chad.

His cocky grin is a perfect likeness of the one on the candle’s label staring up from Stephen’s lap. Chad’s expression grows even smarmier as he winks and raises an arm to smell his pit. Stephen’s face burns red as he sees the clear patch of grey that must have been fermenting all morning, his cock bumps against the package.

Chad’s eyes shoot immediately to the sound and his smirk shifts and an eyebrow’s raised in curiosity, excited that his friend must quite like the gift. Stephen speaks up quickly, lest the two brain cells bouncing around the jock’s skull stumble across any ideas, “What the fuck?” The first volley, bounces off Chad’s steel confidence. The second “what the fuck,” causes an eye narrow as the idea that this may be a misstep finally occurs to him, the third repetition of Stephen’s new mantra apparent gets through through Chad’s thick skull.

The jock’s arm remains raised to scratch his back and Stephen’s cock is more than happy to see the grey patch return and his mind must remain focused on not staring directly at the few pit hairs sneaking above his sleeve. Chad clears his throat awkwardly, “I mean bro… Chicks are always talking about how they love, huh- y’know,” he gestures to the air around him, “my aura. Just thought, you know, uhhh- a dude like you might too?”

The jock braces as he sees Stephen’s eyes narrow as he clearly winds up to somehow lash out. Unfortunately for the twink he takes a deep breath to start and is hit with the full force of the man’s ‘aura,’ it catches him off guard and underneath the package his cock pushes again. Stephen grits his teeth and averts his eyes as he tries to hide his desire, “Chad! Those are people you’re sleeping with! I’m just- This is-” Stephen does everything in his power to quiet his lust as he finishes, “Why would I want this?” 

Chad tongues his cheek and juts his stubbled jaw. Scratching his meaty stomach in thought, Stephen can hear the hairs dragged underneath the jock’s tight shirt. Making up his mind Chad decides to speak on the elephant, or moreover the trunk, in the room. Nodding to the gift poorly hiding Stpehen’s erection, Chad shrugs “I mean bro, seems like you’re enjoying it just fine.” 

“Jesus Christ, fucking straight men!” As unfortunately turned on as Stephen is from the gift and the hunk he has long tried to not be attracted to, at the highlighting of his out of control cock he finds the will to defend his paltry dignity. Though instead of speaking up as his mind is not running on all cylinders, his hands instead reach for anything not breakable to hurl at the man still smirking.

Pillows fly at the man as he continues to try and explain his thoughts, “Yo bro! Watch it-” he grabs one to use as a shield against the continued volley, “I mean I can take it back if you want!” Stephen’s dreams of salvaging dignity perhaps fall to the wayside as this remark causes the hardest throw yet. Chad smirks behind the pillow and finally gets to the door, “Whatever dude! I’ll see ya later! Once you’ve cooled off a bit-” 

Chad stands behind the closed door with a shit-eating grin on his face, straight men huh. Awfully dismissive of the bi jock’s identity but whatever. He listens to Stephen huff and unbox the candle through the wall, unaware that the real gift is to come when he finally lights that bad boy up. Whenever the pair get drunk enough it always devolves into Stephen wishing he’d hit the gym more and Chad begging for his friend to join him. He’d love nothing more than a gym bro he can fuck, and soon enough, unless Stephen has the strength to nip his blue balls in the bud, both wishes are to be granted.

It does not take long for already riled-up Stephen to give in to his curious urges. As soon as the scent of Chad in the air dissipates and he hears the front door of his apartment close, the countdown begins. Stephen stares at the obnoxiously smug photo of Chad on the candle and narrows his eyes, “I mean surely it’s a bit? It can’t actually smell like him specifically? Seems hm, expensive to do.” 

He bites his lip as he shakily goes to remove the lid, driven by a mind less than conscious and more than hungry. Mouth on the precipice of watering, as soon as the seal is cracked the scent washes over him like a tidal wave. Somehow more powerful, more alluring than the real thing. Rich and grimy, and indisputably the essence of Chad distilled into waxen form.

His eyes are glazed over and his mouth is now pooling with drool. It's anyone’s guess as to how the candle gets lit, but so it does. Stephen falls back onto the couch as his hands struggle to free his cock quick enough from pants that force it down at an awkward angle. It finally bounces free, flinging more pre than he’s ever produced upward. Droplets land just shy of his own face as his mouth falls wantonly open and his hands begin their gleeful work.

The creation of Eau De Chad was not light work, the boiling down of man into a single candle is quite the ask. Perhaps even more so than the transformative magic that it is to instill in Stephen. Within the candle are notes from every musky epicenter of Chad’s being, more than powerful enough to distract Stephen as he begins his journey into a musky jock’s shoes himself.

Foremost of the mind-numbing notes that the lost man is bathing himself in is perhaps the one he’s smelled the least. As strong as in his jock after a workout, sweaty pubes and dripping pre. The medley of scents from Chad’s crotch is so powerful that even without clearly even knowing the source it’s on the tip of Stephen’s tongue, much like he would dream to have on his tongue in reality.

Each breath pulling him deeper than the last, Stephen continues to paw at his cock now free to the open, musky air. With each kneading thrust his hands struggle to encompass his dick as it begins to change. Years of pushing down primal desires for his friend, the Adonis, evaporate into the air as he pictures himself working Chad’s cock. Breathing and licking the heady swear straight from the source.

He imagines working the larger man’s spit-covered cock and with each new image in his mind his own beast begins to reform. Dripping more pre than he’s produced in his life up to this point, his hips thrust into wanting hands as his dick thickens and spears high into the air. Lengthening to press against his sternum, veins bulge and criss-cross across its length as its head regrows a foreskin he never had the chance to enjoy.

When his smaller hands, unable to truly satisfy or encompass his new rod, shift down to try and cup balls bulging larger and pumping him full of masculinity, he hears them scratch against the new jungle of growing pubes. Though the jock tries to keep his chest relatively hairless, under the belt hair growth is wild enough to more than make up for it, and as Stephen begins changing into his new musky lover, he seems to be of the same persuasion.

The candle wick flickers as a new scent begins to rise in prominence. This one Stephen recognizes all too well, though usually poorly masked under cheap deodorant, the scent of Chad’s pits could never be truly hidden. His mouth waters as the scent washes through him and his whole body contorts in pleasure. When his own pits begin to itch he gasps and for the first time opens his eyes to find an impossibly large cock hanging over his thin thighs. His mouth quivers into a smile as the line between dream and reality shifts muddy.

For now though, for the pit fiend there is only one thing to do. He raises his arm and gasps as he sees his few pit hairs lengthening, while in between each one a few darker curls make themselves at home. Stephen forces his head into the sweaty spot and hungrily sniffs. Nose tickled by the growing jungle he moans as he encounters his own changing scent, currently overcoming his own, usually superfluous, deodorant it is but a pale imitation of Chad’s. Though it races to be something equivalent, no, greater. 

He continues taking deep breaths, switching between the candle burning strong and his own pit as his musk continues to heighten and shift. With each needy sniff it becomes clear that his odor is not the only part of him shifting. Previously undeveloped arms cramp as muscle begins to pile on. Veins pulse down their center as biceps that have scarcely known strain burn as muscle fibers break and reform to create an impressive peak.

Stephven’s face suddenly contracts into a smirk that he never quite understood before now as his arms force themselves into a pose. Flexing and exposing his newly hairy pits in what he now knows as a front lat spread, he almost laughs as his heady powerful musk begins to overpower the scent burning off the candle. 

Having not actually left the apartment, Chad puts an ear to the door as Stephven’s laughter and moans rise in volume and deepen in tone. He creaks open the door and is almost physically hit with the wave of musk as it pours out like a fog from Steven’s bedroom. His own brand mixing with the steam of sweat seeping from his new bros pits is almost more than he can handle. With every step his mind strains to not just give into his own hunger to pounce on his half-formed bro sitting in the chair. 

Hearing Steven’s socks fray and tear as a subtle note of foot funk rises to the top of the candle. Seeing his new partner’s legs fill his young-professional pants to their limit, bulging thighs pushing at and swiftly bursting the strained seams. Chad bites his lip almost to the point of drawing blood as he feels his own thighs cramp. He doesn’t know if he’s somehow growing as his new gym bro continues to edge larger or if he’s simply overwhelmed, if his own mind is too clouded from the hunger and musk.

Chad shambles towards Steven, mouth falling open as he sees the shimmering sweaty traps that have torn his shirt open. His eyes can’t look away from the newly heavy pecs that hang over his defined abs, he fights the urge to lean down and lap at the muscle as Steven delights in bouncing them. Sending cascading shadows across his sweaty core, and gaining more mass with every dancing flex.

 Instead, Chad leans in close to Steven’s delirium painted face. “Looks like ya liked my gift after all, huh Steve?” His breath mists across Steve’s face. Its heavy humidity barely overcomes the sweaty atmosphere but the sharp mint and undercurrent of musty breath underneath call to his nose like smelling salts. 

His jaw cracks and widens as the changes that have overtaken him finally begin their work on the final frontier. Unable to control himself Chad licks the man’s face as it prickles with stubble. Steve’s nose breaks then reforms, his brows thicken and cast a shadow over his eyes as they lose both their color and clarity. Deepening to brown as their default state becomes glazed and thoughtless.

Feeling Chad’s sticky tongue drag on his cheek, it’s like he was struck by lightning. Every new bulging muscle in Steve’s body flexes at once and he stands to his new height, able to make direct eye contact with the man staring at him, just inches away.

Steve tackles him onto the bed, knocking over the candle and sending wax flying through the air. The pair are sparingly coated in the Chad scented candle as they begin heavily exploring Steve’s new form. As their mouths that have always been left wanting find new delight, whatever shreds of the old Stephen that are left begin to vacate.

The anxieties and priorities of a small meek man who never let his id loose disappear as he positions himself over Chad. He bites his bro’s lip and thrusts downward as he pins the massive man’s hands above his head. Masked by the pleasure of true release, he doesn’t care as his old self washes away. Memories evaporate like the sweat pouring off his form. He delights in maneuvering across Chad’s form and enjoying his musk from the source.

His tongue dances across sweaty pecs that match his own as his collection of classics on a bookshelf disappear to be replaced by free weights. Steve’s nose finally shoves its way into Chad’s pits as his extensive collection of hygiene and beauty products down the hall clatter to the floor and disappear as they’re replaced by a single bar of clinical deodorant only used for special occasions. Sleeves fall off his wardrobe of cardigans and button ups as sweat stains yellow every garment. The tops throw themselves from hangers while musty shorts and jockstraps heap into a pile on the floor.

Sweat drips from his brow as with each thrust into Chad his mind gives up the ghost. Each impossible wave of pleasure erodes his old self, each drop of sweat an idea gone, each rivulet of pre dripping down his veiny cock a sign of his intelligence drained to increase the muscle mass of his new form. After all besides pleasure nothing matters to him nearly as much as his fucking hot bod.

He feels his balls pulse as every remaining aspect of Stephen’s self shoots down and is quickly converted. His eyes roll back as he cums the few specks of self remaining in a massive load onto Chad’s sweaty abs. After a few moments of total mindlessness from the jubilee of release, Steve awakens to find himself atop his bro and simply laughs, “Huhuh woah dude that’s a fuckin’ fat load huh?” He scratches at his hairy chest and grimaces as he imagines how that’s going to hide his gains.

Seeing the thoughts on his face as the two are evermore on the same wavelength Chad pauses rubbing Steve’s cum onto his abs and offers, “Lookin’ a little rough there bro, wanna go top up and then hit the gym?” Steve smirks as his bro basically reads his mind, “Yoooo totally let’s hit it!” He punches down into his bro as he stands, smirking as he watches Chad’s cock bounce before sprinting into the restroom and prepping to get pumped.

The gym starts to clear out as the pair arrive, judging by the musk already following in their wake no one dares risk having to smell what it’s like once they actually start going. Stopping in the locker room the pair stop publicly groping and sniffing each other long enough to take a pre-workout photo, tongues out as ever. When they see some poor soul who didn’t escape the gym quick enough covering his nose they eye each other up.

“Yo dude, looks like lil’ bro over there’s gotta problem with your stink.” Steve performatively sniffs his pit and shakes his head, “Nahnah bro. It’s definitely yours, check it.” They continue to talk up eachothers musk while the young man can’t help but sit there, stunned into silence. With each new statement the pair swagger closer until their sweat may as well be dripping on the man.

Gasping as he regains awareness just as the pair are almost standing over him, the sharp intake fills his lungs with their musk as a smile creeps over his face. “Looks like lil bro’s likin’ it after all Chad.” Throwing a sweaty arm over his bro, the man who can scarcely recall that his bro hasn’t always been like this laughs, “Huhuh, well obviously bro, no shot anyone’ll be able to resist us soon.” The pair help the hazy man up and begin ushering him through the ropes, eager to have another musky jock in their image and excited to see how far their little group will grow.

[crimsonspring]

"What's wrong, sweetie?" Sylus, the leader of Onychinus, once most loathed creature of Tarus City, looks and sounds almost unrecognisable as he stares down at his sniffling beloved, with crimson eyes that twinkle with specks of admiration, yearning and concern. His strong arms, so used to battles and defending himself from acts of violence, now cradling his treasured lover ever so kindly and tenderly. His voice, often rough and speaking out of pain and anger, hardly louder than a decibel and soft enough to lull an infant to sleep when he speaks to her.

His calloused fingers comb through her hair, and he reminds himself to ask her another time if he could braid her hair, just like when they were in the Grasslands. But not right now, not when his other hand is occupied with rubbing the small of her back in soothing circles. His actions has practically turned her body into putty, melting it deeper against the mould of his body as she lays atop him, face buried into cotton of his shirt. She looks so vulnerable at this very moment, a little different from the fearless hunter everyone is accustomed to seeing and knowing. He feels the atoms of anger (on her behalf) and natural protectiveness form in his chest as he tries to think of what possibly could have upset his lover tonight. This damned world is undeserving of her, he thinks, so he tries his best to fill in the cracks the world has left her with.

"Everything has been so tough," her tiny voice answers. In the midst of the ever-changing, Sylus seems to be the only constant she has. It feels like as everything is against her, and he is the only one for her. "I'm so scared," her voice barely audible, yet Sylus doesn't miss the crack at the end of her sentence. Instinctively, his palm stops its ministrations of the gentle circles on her back. His knuckles now bending ever so slightly to clutch onto her back more protectively.

"What can I do to make you feel better, sweetie?" His voice is low, the vibrations grumbling from his chest against her own. Almost desperate to make her feel better, he starts peppering kisses into her hair. It's a win-win, Sylus thinks. While she finds some comfort in his affection, he gets to indulge in the faint smell of her strawberry shampoo and the way she melts further into his body. It causes his hold to tighten around her. "What can I do to make you feel... less afraid? Safer, if you will," he asks, noting her admission of fear.

She pauses, as if to think, then moves to rest her chin on his chest as she stares at him for moment. They simply gaze into each other's eyes, a silent language both of them are fluent in. Sylus doesn't want to get ahead of himself, but could it be that her eyes are mirroring his; the way it screams of pure and true love. Sylus knows that without a doubt that he'd love her even if it was never reciprocated, so when the familiar gaze is reflected in her eyes, a breath gets stuck in his throat. He clears his throat, fingers brushing away a lock of her hair, "What is it, beloved?"

She stays silent for a moment more, and Sylus bears in mind the way he grows a little nervous under her loving yet intense gaze, though he tries to mask it with a raised brow. "Well?" Her hand finds his own that had tucked her hair away, bringing it to her cheek. Like clockwork, Sylus moulds his palm against her soft cheek, his thumb grazing the smooth skin.

"I think I only feel safe with you."

It knocks the wind out of him. Sylus is self-aware of his reputation- once, he was the creature so feared by humans that it ignighted much self loathing. And even now, people fear him as the infamous figure that breathed danger in the N109 Zone. Sure, it is for different reasons now, but Sylus has always felt to be synonymous with Monster.

"With me?" he repeats, a crease forming between his brows as his heart begins to pound against his chest. She simply nods and confirms, "Yes." One word to cause a visceral reaction in his heart.

She doesn't say anything more and doesn't elaborate, and Sylus is far too taken aback to push it further either. Thinks he needs a moment to himself to take in this revelation. A monster like me... that is what makes her feel safe? He sighs, shakes his head as if to deem herself almost foolish for feeling as such. there could be trillions of creatures in the entire universe, and she would be the sole one who'd find safety with him.

And if Sylus hadn't already made it his mission to keep her in safety, he makes a silent oath with himself at the moment; he'll protect her until his dying breath. This woman shall never have to worry for as long as she decides that he lives.

He pulls her in impossibly tighter, "That's the first time someone said those words to me." He echoes words he has said before (albeit she doesn't and won't remember a thing) and he reminisces the memory for a bit. The same way she sees the beauty in him, the similar softness she so graciously graces him with - such a stark contrast from what others are to him. It reaffirms to him though, that she is his one true soulmate, across all universes and through time. He'd burn the world for her take a claymore to his chest, if ever need be. In the previous and present lives, she would always be kind to him and he would always be hers.

She hums, then nuzzles her nose against the crook of his neck where she presses the petals of her lips against his warm skin. "Well, everyone else doesn't know you like I do." she mumbles, and sylus chuckles.

The whole world can cower in fear and misjudge him, for all he cares. He is simply Sylus in her eyes, "I don't want anyone else to know me like you do."

[raineofthedragons]

Making a list of things Iskall did in the video that feel manipulative. Quotes won’t be exact because I’m not watching that for a second time.

1. Opening with his own mental health struggles. Talking about mental health is important but being suicidal is a known excuse for people, especially influencers, to get out of facing accountability. Opening his first video in months with his own struggles is a diversion. Regardless of his mental health, he still needs to be held accountable.

2. Minimizing the allegations. The literal first thing he does in that video is reduce allegations of sexual harassment to “consensually talking with an adult woman.” This wasn’t an issue of flirting, this was an issue of sending explicit messages to his own employees & taking advantage of the power imbalance inherent to that. He talks about how, legally, he did nothing wrong. There’s lots of things that aren’t illegal but are still bad. Most workplaces will still fire you for sexual harassment, even if it’s not illegal.

3. Emphasizing his own virtues. Half of the video is him talking about what a great person he is, what he’s done for the community, how much of his own money he spent making Vault Hunters, things like that. I shouldn’t have to say that good people can still do bad things and bad people can still do good things.

4. “Guilty until proven innocent” and the whole pitchforks and witch hunts metaphor. We have the screenshots. We know what he did. These aren’t baseless accusations with no proof. Things like that tend to get proven false very quickly.

5. Emphasizing everyone else’s wrongdoing. He makes his (alleged) victims out to be these evil conspirators plotting to ruin his life. He talks about how HermitCraft only gave him an hour and a half to defend himself. To be fair, that is far too short a time window, but it’s interesting that he can’t actually defend himself, he just discredits everyone else.

6. Distracting from the allegations. Near the end, he talks about how HermitCraft is actually bad and secretly doing terrible things, without actually saying what they are. Regardless of if this is true, it has no bearing on the topic of the video— the sexual harassment allegations against him, which he has done nothing to actually refute.

7. Making the community response seem irrational. He emphasizes the worst people in the community, the ones sending him harassment and death threats (to be clear, this is not okay. We do not send people death threats) as a way to discredit everyone who cancelled him. He talks about how it’s his private business and therefore not important for the public to know. It’s fine for him to have that opinion, but if someone learns about things you’re doing in your private life and decides they don’t want to interact with you anymore, that is their right. This applies even more so to the members of the HermitCraft server. These allegations could have impacted both the reputation and safety of other people on the server, damaging the trust their viewers place in them, and harming their financial well-being.

8. Completely avoids any accountability. Every apology needs accountability, regardless of if the person did anything wrong. Iskall could have easily included an apology for the damaged trust that comes along with allegations like these, talked about how being silent for several months increased that affect, the betrayal and uncertainty felt by the community. Instead he deflects and places blame on everyone but himself. Even if he’s innocent, it’s really not a good look.

That’s everything I can think of right now. Might add some more later. I don’t trust a single thing he said in this video, especially the vague stuff about HermitCraft being actually problematic and censoring him.

[madamechrissy]

Surprising Zayne at work

Pairings- Zayne x F!reader CW- smut drabble, you decide you need to surprise your boyfriend Zayne at work, by hiding under his desk because you miss him of course! Warnings-blow jobs, teasing, cunnlingus, ovulation talk hehe

"Honey..." Zayne's murmuring as you sit right under his desk, taking his thick length in your mouth, his brows together in worry as his huge hands grip your hair, just a little too harshly for a moment, only earning your moan. "You're such a ... troublemaker..."

You would giggle but you're far too busy sucking him down, feeling his cock pulse as you race your tongue on the ridge of his tip. Your cunt is eager and dripping when someone walks into the office, Zayne shoves you off as you curl up, and he clears his throat, trying to act professional. "Yes, what is it?"

Zayne can barely hear what the nurse says while you're flicking your damn tongue on his tip, he damn near whimpers how dare you do this right now. He's firmly planning on giving you quite the punishment, his hand yanking on your hair, so hard the nurse hears your yelp.

Shit.

"Is everything okay Dr. Zayne?" She asks, Zayne clears his throat, trying to bite back his moan, a hand rushing through his disheveled dark hair now.

"Everything is quite alright, was there something e-else?" The nurse blinks as the very practical Dr. Zayne is blushing across his cheeks, curious for just a moment, not realizing his cock is being swallowed down your tight little throat.

"No, that was it. Thank you." She shuts the door with a resounding click, and Zayne finally lets out his moan, before looking down at your pretty eyes, glaring at you with pretty brown eyes, you can't keep the cockdrunk grin off your face, tummy clenching with excitement.

"You're always getting me into trouble, I swear, get up here. Now." At his quiet command you pull back with a loud suctioned pop, precum coating your tongue, you gasp when he turns you and bends you over, shoving up your skirt.

"Please..." You're arching your ass, making him lose his mind.

"Are you going to be a good girl, or will you continue this behavior? Hmm?" He gently smacks your backside now, watching your thighs tremble. "Answer me."

"I just wanted to taste you." You pout now, looking back at him, and he can't ever defend himself against your cute little pout damn it. He sighs, cupping your face.

"We can do this after hours, not at the workplace." You pout more.

"You work too much Zayne. I miss you." He sighs now, kissing you, as he presses you against the desk, a hand slipping to your breast under your blouse, toying with a nipple, you barely bite back your cry.

"I miss you too, think I don't want to go lick your pretty pussy at your job? But I don't do I?"

"Mmm, you could- ah!" He's on his knees now, slipping down your panties hungrily, which are so soaked that they're sticking to your puffy lips, trails of glittery wetness enamoring him, earning his soft moan. "Zayne, please..."

"You should drink more water, to stay hydrated enough for all this soaking mess, love." You're covering your mouth not to scream out loud in his pristine office, as his tongue laps a stripe right up your slit, hot breath tickling as his tastebuds glide along you. "This wet from sucking me, honey?"

"Y-yes, I've been wet all day- mnh!" He's spreading your folds wide, moaning at the sight of your perfect pussy, pressing a precise kiss on it with plump lips.

"That, love, means you're ovulating." He leans up now, turning and lifting you onto his fancy desk, shoving things aside, the movement so sexy you can't take it, as you're clinging to his white lab coat, whining out before he has a hand on your mouth. "Know what ovulation is, don't you?"

He releases his hand now, and you nod, taking a shaky breath. "It means I'm horny as fuck?"

His full lips twitch just a bit, when he's guiding his blushed, drooly tip against your soppy folds now, up and down, hitting your sensitive clit, he watches as your eyes dilate so much they're almost black, as you're whining against your little palm. "No, honey - it means your body is ready to make a baby."

Hehe- first Sylus drabbles now onto Zayne! My next one up is psycho, yan ass Caleb- but he's probably gonna be a longer oneshot lol. I'm dipping my toes into LADS every dayyy hehe

perm tags: @alt--er--love @indiewritesxoxo @nanasukii28 @cuntphoric @loafteaw @n1vi @miizuzu @beachaddict48 @honeybunnnnie @re-tired-succubus @gojosukuna2268 @waterfal-ling @1brii @wise-fangirl @moncher-ire @orikixx @uhnosav @baepsays @designerpvssy @orixxxana @airandyeah @nina-from-317 @evelynxxo @naammiii @soyokosuguru @espresso1patronum @tomboy-disaster @iam-souless @lanii-i @cristy-101 @doeeyestoji @cvixmei @mutsu422 @g00seg1rl @ivyvenus333 @suki91 @naomi-main @fairygardenprincesss @theonlyjuggernaut @lovelockdownff @huntyhuntycunty @ibreathesmut @s777athv @twinklywinkly @akiii143

[luveline]

hellooo I have a request for Spencer x bombshell! reader (I'm not sure if you've done this before and if you have I apologise!!) but like they're on a case and one of them gets pretty badly hurt somehow & then the other is really worried about them & stuff and then I'm not sure (I think this could be good but not the way that I have spoken about it and so I'm very very sorry!!)

u r so awesome don’t worry!!

cw canon typical violence and injury

Everything is crisp and quiet at the precipice of the stakeout. You adjust your gun where it’s poised over the roof of an SUV away from a moving officer’s body. The negotiator adjusts the megaphone at their thigh nervously, waiting for Hotch’s go ahead. You’re all waiting for it. A hand raised, sending you in, hostage recovered, a long case coming to a short close. 

“Don’t forget your leg,” Spencer says to you under his breath. 

“Trust me, babe, I can’t forget it,” you say back, glancing quickly at him to your left. He’s facing forward, trained on the window where you’d last seen the unsub. The distance between you both and the danger is small, less than three feet of space. You and Spencer don’t have a clear shot, the agent’s behind you better equipped and better trained, but you can make do in a pinch. 

“Hurting?” he whispers. 

“Half as bad as it was yesterday.” 

“I have a bad feeling.” 

“Yeah?” You follow Hotch’s hand. The negotiation begins. You and Spencer don’t talk again. 

The unsub is sour, the victim terrified. When the screaming inside begins in earnest, the FBI rolls inside, confident in taking down the unsub, if a little worried about the victims wellbeing. You and Spencer sweep in less than ten inches away from each other, unafraid, and you don’t see the sledgehammer until it’s hitting you in the jaw, spraying blood like dark ink over Spencer’s pale cheek. 

—

“I don’t care if that’s what you recommend.” A drag of a soft touch somewhere on your skin. “Sincerely. I want a second opinion.” 

“It’s a mandibular fracture, we have a suitable follow up procedure.” 

“I understand, but I’m doing what she’d want me to do. When she wakes up, she’ll say the same thing, and so there’s no point in starting the paperwork for a procedure she won’t agree to.” 

“I doubt her cosmetic preferences will outweigh functionality.” 

It’s Spencer’s voice, Spencer’s hand on your leg. He’s reaching back to hold you as he defends you. “Respectfully, you don’t know her. I don’t want to talk about it anymore. She needs peace and quiet.” 

The doctor harrumphs but leaves. Quiet is restored, and for a while you doze, the only thing at your attention Spencer’s hand where it climbs. He takes your hand. You know his fingers well where they twine between yours. 

A few hours pass by in sluggish slee, the bed elevated to an uncomfortable sitting position. 

“Hey?” he asks, fingertips to the hill of your shoulder. “Are you waking up?” 

You can’t make your mouth form words. Your eyes flash open in shock.

“Hey, don’t panic. I’m sorry, I’m going to explain, but please don’t panic.” 

You wait. 

Spencer stands in a rumpled shirt, hair in his eyes, glasses slipping down his nose. “Your jaw is broken, fractured, actually, pretty badly. You’ve had so much pain relief over the last few hours I’m surprised you can even open your eyes, and it’s good you’re struggling to move your mouth because it would only hurt anyways.” He claps your arm gently. “I’m sorry. I’m not going anywhere though, okay? I’m right here.” 

That’s not what scares you; you know Spencer’s gonna stay. It’s not a question. 

Your hand strays up to your face. 

“It’s not bad,” he swears, and perhaps lies. 

“Spence,” you manage, a croak that aches and lisps at once. 

“It’s okay,” he says, leaning down. “Please don’t get upset.” 

You blink tearfully. You don’t remember what happened, just the flash of pain and now Spencer looking down at you like you’re wounded. He sits carefully on the side of your bed and grabs you by the waist, two hands on your sides and arms resting on your stomach, like a hug that hasn’t crept forward. 

“You won’t like the bruise,” he says apologetically. 

“Bad?” you whisper. 

“It’s all the way up to your eye. He also chipped two of your teeth… I’m so sorry, angel. It was my fault.” He thumbs your ribs. “I’ll fix everything. I already talked to your dentist, and tonight they’re coming back to talk about your plastics because the blow split your skin, okay? But you're mostly fixed already.” 

“‘M I… still pretty?” you ask. 

“Still the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen,” he says, not half as shyly as he’d usually would. 

You cry panicked, dribbly tears. He rubs shapes into your sides and swears again that it’ll all be okay, and it’s not that you don’t believe him, it’s just that it’s really starting to hurt. 

“Had a bad feeling,” he says, wiping your tears as gently as he can before they can wet the bandaging on your jaw.

“Did you get him for me?” you ask. 

Morgan clears his throat from the doorway to announce his arrival, a coffee cup in hand, pastry bag hanging between his pinky and marriage finger. He sounds like he’s about to laugh, “Did you, lover boy?” He beams at you. “I’ve never seen him pistol whip someone before. You would’ve loved it.”

You groan in agony. Missing out on seeing that is almost as bad as breaking your jaw. 

“I’ll recreate it for you,” Spencer promises. 

“And now it’s time for him to eat,” Morgan says, putting the pastry bag on the bed, “and get some sleep. He hasn’t slept in the two days you’ve been in here.”

“I had important stuff to take care of,” he says, rubbing your side. “While you couldn’t do it yourself.”

“Sleep,” you insist through your achy mouth.

Spencer’s eyes go soft and sad. “I will.”

[womanofwords]

Everybody's Favourite (Part 1)

Everything turned upside-down when the principal pulled you out of class when you were seven years old. You'd been colouring nicely when she came in.

"Y/N, I'd like to talk to you," she said. "Could you come with me?"

"Have I done something wrong?" you asked.

"No, dear. Just get your stuff."

You collected your things and went with her, where a police officer was waiting. "Here's Y/N, officer," she said to him. That was when you learned, in a haze of horror, that your dear mother had died while you were colouring in class without a care in the world. Car accident.

"Not to worry, she made arrangements as to who would look after you in the event of this happening," the police officer said. "Your biological father . . . Bruce Wayne."

So off you went to your new home, away from your friends and old neighbourhood and everything you'd ever known, and towards the figure known as Bruce Wayne.

The first thing you noticed about your father was that he was, obviously, very rich. All his cars were the fancy ones you used to stare at with your mom when you would walk together.

When you arrived, you had all sorts of questions for your father. "How did you meet my mother? Why didn't you talk to me before this? Did you like spending time with her?"

"I'm rather busy, Y/N. I'll show you to your room," Bruce said, escorting you to a guest bedroom. "We can decorate it later."

Later never came.

After a few weeks, you met his other kids, Dick, Jason, Tim, Barbara, Cass, and Stephanie. They all looked so cool, like teenagers from a movie. But they always had to 'do stuff'.

"What kind of stuff?" you asked.

"They're a part of scholarships for gifted students," Bruce said, before any of them could say anything. "I happen to be privately tutoring them."

"Oh. So you spend time with them because they're talented?"

"You could put it that way."

That revelation lit a fire underneath you. If your father wanted talented kids, then you would have to be a talented kid.

In everything you could get your hands on.

You became a polyglot, devouring different languages like nobody's business. You took part in gymnastics, just like Dick, and also track. You got straight As in everything, forcing yourself to study night after night. You read the same classic books Jason loved so you could (hopefully) have something to bond with him over. You took some coding classes so you had something to talk about with Tim.

Alfred became a consistent source of comfort, bringing you food and making sure that you didn't over work yourself. He came to every event you had, loyally videotaping it for future viewing.

Nobody cared to look at the tapes. Nobody watched you collect your awards for fastest times, or graduate early as valedictorian. Nobody listened to your headmaster sing your praises as he listed your various scholastic accomplishments.

Damian was the worst. The moment he met you, it was clear that he would hate you until he died. He looked at you with such disgust, such contempt for your existence. Once, he cornered you with a katana that he held so close to your neck that you were cut. Another time, he sicced Titus onto you, leading to a nasty bite mark on your arms when you put them up to defend yourself.

"Titus mauling you would have been an improvement to the Wayne bloodline," he sneered, as you bawled your eyes out. "When are you going to get it through your simple-minded skull that we don't care what happens to you? It's annoying to hear you chatter to us and make conversation about being head of your class and breaking sports records. We all scoff about it when we're on patrol."

Your throat went dry. "Patrol?"

"Of course. Father, Dick, Jason, Stephanie, and myself all have our own alter egos. I am by my father's side cleaning the streets of scumbags as Batman and Robin while you are trying to be top of your stupid little class." He punched you in the stomach, hard. "Honestly, it's a relief to get away from you and your nauseating neediness."

Alfred came to console you after the fact, but he wouldn't hear a word against Damian for hurting you, or Bruce for letting it happen. "Master Damian has had a . . . difficult life, Y/N," he said. "And Bruce's childhood was by no means easy."

You gave up on your family after that. Nobody really wanted you, and Damian actively hated you.

You were nobody's favourite.

Part 1 <- You are here

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Part 10

Part 11

Part 12

Part 13

Part 14

[kaelio]

Hello everyone, I'm here today to engage in the absolutely thankless task of defending the hell out of this sentence getting commuted.

First things first:

I am not a prison abolitionist (this is important)

This former judge is one of the worst scumbags alive. Basically, he sent kids to juvie/prison in return for kickbacks.

So why did I want his sentence commuted? Oh, me? I didn't.

But this was part of a package of commutations requested by prison abolitionists. Yes, they asked for this, even spent hundreds of thousands on advertisements to demand it. Basically, Biden commuted the sentences of 1,500 people who were on "compassionate release", meaning they were already living at home. This is mostly just really old/sick people.

Biden didn't commute this guy's sentence as such, he commuted the sentences of a type of person out on compassionate release and didn't take the judge out of the pile. He didn't say, "except, not him".

This judge (scumbag) served 13 of his 16 years, but in 2020 was sent home because he was in such poor health it was assumed Covid would kill him. He's been at home ever since.

Now, this is important. This man cannot commit this offense again. He's not a judge any more! So recidivism is impossible. He cannot re-offend. So, in his case, prison can't be for rehabilitation or in any way to make sure he doesn't do it again. He can't! Never could have. The only real reason he was there was to punish him, which is fine. Personally, I'm fine with prisons being solely for punishment. But are you? Is that what you've been saying? Has that been your stance, that prisons are to punish people?

"But this guy was especially bad." Oh, so... mercy for people who didn't do really bad things? Then you're not getting any of these commutations. Because if you were in federal prison for long enough to qualify to be out on compassionate release, you did something really bad! Biden also pardoned everyone in federal prison for non-violent marijuana charges and you could count the number of people on your fingers because you don't actually get sent to federal prison over minor drug crimes.

Let's make it clear: "Mercy and leniency, but only for people who I define as innocent" means.... no mercy and no leniency. And you can be on board with that. You can be vengeful or a revanchist or bitter and brutal at heart; you're totally allowed. But then don't pretend you're not! In fact, that's the heart of Trumpism: there are those for whom laws should protect but not bind, and for others laws which should bind but not protect. (Or, as Óscar Benavides put it: "For my friends, everything; for my enemies, the law.") If your stance is just "good things for people I like and agree with, and bad things for those I don't" then you just have a different sense of who should be punished or die. But your thinking is fundamentally the same. Have you had a consistent stance about vigilante killing lately? Let me ask, who's allowed to decide among the populace who may live and who must die?

It's very unlikely anyone will ever again be as generous and compassionate as Biden has been with his powers. Because when he is, when he actually does it, when he's kind down to his very soul, you fucking hate it. That's what 2024 was; the revealed preferences election. You didn't want to pay people a living wage to deliver your burrito, you don't actually want people let out of jail, and you think capital punishment is fine as long as the executioner was hot.

[revolutionsingingintherainnn]

no words *ೃ༄

Summary: max defends his girlfriend and gets into trouble

𖤓 mv x reader ⋆｡°✩

𖤓 fluff + slight humour (iykyk) ⋆｡°✩

masterlist ☾☼

y/n had been a fan of formula one since she was a child. every parental figure in her life had been a fan of the sport, so it was natural and she got into it too. thankfully, it also made her realise very quickly in life that she wanted to work in the field of motorsports. she wasn't sure yet, and she was still working her way to getting into the sport, but it was a sure, clear path for her.

after meeting max, and falling in love with him, everything had changed. her family approved of the two of them, obviously, and so had his, though she hadn't cared much about jos' opinion. y/n made it clear in the beginning that she wanted to work in motorsports and she wanted to earn her place. she refused to let max talk her up or anything, because he was the kind of guy who would do just that for his girlfriend. max agreed, and promised to keep their relationship private for as long as she wanted.

it had taken her a few years. she bounced from indycar to motorgp to nascar and eventually made her way to f1 as a journalist. she had gained far more experience than she would've gotten if she had only focused on formula one, and she was confident in her abilities to finally be formula one.

max and her had stayed strong throughout, even if they kept their relationship private. she had met and become friends with daniel, lando, carlos, and all of max's friends. they often played padel together as well. mix the competitive spirits that max and she possessed, it was always fun.

after a year of being in formula one as a journalist, max and y/n had decided that it was time to stop hiding. they skipped the soft launch part, and jumped directly into the hard launch phase that left a lot of fans shook.

unfortunately, it also got her a lot of hate. y/n went from being one of the best journalists in f1 to one of the most hated ones for the same reasons that she was loved. the fans adored her because she was a woman of colour making a name for herself in such a sport, and that her parents had sacrificed a lot for her and she was making them proud. now, she was hated because her success became max's story and how he put in good words for her and how she was only with him for the money.

it broke her heart, but max was someone who had received a lot of hate before in his life, so he taught her all the ways to ignore the comments and focus on what she did best. it helped a great deal, but it also made her determined to prove that her career had nothing to do with max.

it was getting better, slowly and over time. max and y/n promised to never lose their temper on the comments. a lot of interviewers and fans had also asked the other drivers on the grid to comment on their relationship, asking if it was ethical for a journalist and a driver to date. but the other drivers always responded with the same thing, always saying how they've known max and y/n for a long time, and their relationship was no one else's business.

unfortunately, after a particularly hard race, max finally lost his cool.

"well, max, it's safe to say that this particular race of yours wasn't the best that you've performed. what do you have to say about that?"

"uh, nothing, really. we just didn't have the pace, and with some mistakes on my side, i lost a lot of points. but, i'm sure we can cover it up next race." max replied.

"you don't have to worry about us writing a bad article about you. your girlfriend and we will only be writing praises, don't you worry. the only difference would be that we won't take your hard earned money like she does," the interviewer laughed, nudging y/n.

the cameras were all focused on them, there were fans nearby, and other drivers. everyone was watching. it was live tv. the entire world was watching. the thick crowd of an audience had their gaze fixed on y/n, and all she could do in that moment was hang her head and try not to cry.

that's the moment max lost his cool. y/n was standing right there, and the interviewer had disrespected her on a very public platform.

"actually, my girlfriend will always tell me what i need to hear, whether it's good or bad. y/n y/l/n, a well known journalist, who is also standing right there with you, will write exactly what happened on track, because that's the part that she reports on. she made her own career, so fuck you for dismissing all of it." max bursted, before he stormed off.

the interviewer was spluttering, not sure how to react, but completely outraged as he forced the fia to take actions on max's outburst. y/n slipped away silently, needing to go back to max.

later on, the fia decided to punish max for using "language during the fia sunday press conference". their decision: obligation to accomplish some work of public interest.

later, an interviewer asked him if he regretted his decision of defending his girlfriend and getting a punishment, max responded, “no.”

“so, what do you think of the punishment given to you? do you think it’s fair?”

“no words.”

.⋆｡⋆☂˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆.

i hope you guys enjoyed this! i had a lot of fun writing this, mostly because i had no idea what my brain wanted me to write, but somehow i kept on typing. anyways, this is my prompt list, so y'all can select a number, give me a driver and i will write it as soon as possible! i also have a google form for a taglist if anyone's interested! you can sent in your requests here :)

[lost-romantique]

IMP's Realization & Wake Up Call

All of IMP have just been sentenced to death.

I want you to notice how Loona, Millie, and Moxxie are just staring at shock about the fact that all of them are just about to die.

During the entire time the rest of IMP are staring at horror on their impending death, none of them notice Blitz is struggling and looking only at them.

I want to make this very clear, Blitz is only looking at them. He doesn't care about his own safety at this moment, he just NEEDS to make sure his family is safe.

Millie, Moxxie, and Loona have just been grabbed by the enforcers...

"NO!" Blitz screams this at the top of his lungs, and he looks absolutely petrified.

Suddenly, all of IMP's attention is turned towards Blitz for the first time as Blitz speaks and makes his desperate case.

Notice how Moxxie turns to Millie with a look of utter confusion and bewilderment, even Millie herself looks just as concerned.

Millie and Moxxie are not expecting this sort of action from Blitz.

Blitz is floundering, twiddling his hands nervously, thinking of whatever he can say to stop this event from unfolding.

Blitz is met with Satan's fury and Yogirt intervenes to calm him down.

"Look all that Hell is going to see, is you executing imps who are just trying to do their job! I'm the rogue here, not them!"

Blitz makes his final plea to save the rest of IMP, and I want to point out how Blitz purposely stands tall, sticks his chest out and everything. Blitz is doing whatever he can to make himself appear big, to make himself look like a leader.

Moxxie has spent the entire trial trying to defend Blitz to the best of his ability, but even he is not expecting this.

When Moxxie asks Blitz what he's doing, he steps forward and grips the stone table. his voice is concerned. I want you to also notice how Loona looks so surprised by Blitz's actions to the point even her ears are sticking up.

Moxxie makes one last desperate plea to Satan, and he looks like he's about to burst at any minute. Moxxie is panicking.

Blitz tells him to stop vouching for him, and this is when you hear Moxxie's voice start to quiver. He's terrified right now, he doesn't want to let Blitz go.

The camera pans to Loona as Blitz makes his final request for M&M to watch over her when he's gone.

The moment Moxxie is given his last request this is when the waterworks fall, and he says the words, "No, I can't look, Millie!"

I love Millie's face of pure strength, you can tell that she's upset, but she knows she has to be the one to keep it together. Millie knows that one of them has to be the strong one, so she carries that burden like a champ.

Blitz is chained and forced to the floor on the pedestal of death, he's visibly hyperventilating and his eyes widen the moment he sees the scythe that's about to meet his demise...

The moment the scythe is raised above Blitz's head, Moxxie turns his his head away in tears and Millie can't help but look scared. Loona whimpers, turns away as her eyes tear up, and her ears are pointed downwards.

And Millie... takes on the burden in making sure she watches Blitz's final moments, so he could be there for him one last time. They really are best friends till the end.

I love how at peace Blitz looks in this moment, he's made a lot mistakes in his life, but there isn't a look of regret in his decision.

[revvethasmythh]

listen, now that everything is said and done i'm going to say something i've been thinking but not outright saying for the past nearly four years. frankly, imogen and laudna's relationship is a pale shadow of caleb and veth's and if you really sit and think about it, it's outright embarrassing for the former party. it's like if you saw a beautiful piece of art and tried to emulate it and then the only thing you managed to jot down that was the same was the basic shape and you never added any color when the color was the most important part. imogen and laudna's relationship is formed out of almost the exact same origins (troubled mage who needs to keep a distance from regular society joins up with monstrous misfit with a traumatic backstory and become each other's most important person while traveling place-to-place because they keep getting into trouble in cities). the difference is, genuinely, how much more colorful and lived in caleb and veth's story feels. they met in a podunk county jail and worked together to break out of the place, stayed together for practical reasons (straight-up survival) and then out of genuine friendship. they were hobos in the woods together. they cuddled on the side of the roads on cold nights together. they were genuinely each other's sole lifeline because they were the type of people no one in the world cared about in a very real, visceral way. they were also con artists, and sam and liam worked together to come up with an entire booklet of different cons they used to survive, which come into play surprisingly often during the campaign (Modern Literature, famously, but also Mother's Love and Money Pot featured).

comparatively, we know next to nothing about what imogen and laudna's lives looked like after leaving gelvaan, and the Incident™️ that sent them running in the first place remains amorphous and random no matter how many times the story is told or whatever extra details get added. the people of gelvaan found laudna to be a generically threatening presence (because of her fun-scary appearance and/or kooky-fun-scary behavior) and picked up their torches and pitchforks to run her out of town. imogen heard her thoughts and found them so beautiful she nearly killed two of the townspeople she grew up with the defend her and then they fled into the night together. and that's it. what did they do for two entire years after that? i don't know! neither do you. they don't appear to have struggled for money like caleb and veth did, there's no reference to hard-living, no real reference to what jobs they took to stay afloat, no mention of the practical realities of living as homeless nomads, no mention of towns and cities they'd visited and how those places impacted them. nothing. empty. no color. how did their relationship develop? also don't know! they seem to have slotted together perfectly as friends with no conflict for years before slotting together perfectly as lovers while batting aside all attempts at conflict later. done and dusted, that's the relationship, and people have the gall to call caleb and veth's successor relationship 'soulmatism' when it doesn't hold a candle to what the original offered.

which was, to be clear, endless complexity. i can't tell you how to define it, and i don't think the character's themselves could define it if they tried. sam went into the campaign intending to lean into a familial relationship and quickly realized that wasn't the vibe, course-corrected into veth having a crush on caleb--something sam has said developed fairly early in the campaign.* liam went into the relationship not intending to care about her nearly as much as he ended up doing, then spent the early campaign eps grappling with just how suddenly important she was to him, to the point that, in the face of her potentially dying in episode 20, liam says to sam, "do you want to make my character turn evil already?"** both were surprised at how tightly their characters clung to each other, and developed a deeply caring, highly insular dynamic where they were suspicious of outsiders and desperately guarded each other. with full retrospect, both went into the relationship intending to use each other (caleb for general usefulness/protection and veth, obviously, hoping caleb could change her back one day), then found such deep and tender care that they became each other's worlds. for a time. until nott became veth and veth had a husband and it sent their relationship into a tailspin because no matter how you frame the relationship, caleb clearly felt his feelings for her and the way they behaved together stepped over the line of how one should act with a married woman. after that, he is terrified of the idea that he might not have a place in her life and works so hard to create opportunities to insinuate himself into her present and future (teleportation spells so she can travel home quickly and still return to the group, making room for her family in the tower so she can stay with him, offering to tutor luc in magic to stay in her life, etc). veth gets her body and her life back but fears returning home will be lackluster compared to what she's experienced with the group, starts falling out of love with her husband, and has intense extra-martial feelings for caleb that are canonical. their relationship morphs and changes constantly throughout the campaign, and the one thing about their dynamic that never changes is how deeply and truly they love each other. you want to talk about soulmatism? them being the two party members with fake names who's real names share aspects of each other ("Bren" and "Brenatto") both from small-town dwendalian empire who's lives have been deeply impacted by meddling of the cerberus assembly (veth's in adulthood, caleb's in childhood) and who's deepest traumas are respectively fire and water does the trick for me.

so why is one so popular and the other, particularly as a romantic ship, very much is not? it would be obtuse of me not to immediately point to the fact that imogen and laudna are two pretty, skinny white women who claim to have deliciously little agency in their own stories and provide a blank enough canvas that the relationship can be whatever you want it to be. there's a reason there's so many AU fics for them, after all. caleb and veth on the other hand would center first a relationship between the handsome white fandom-popular sadboi and *checks notes* a self-described ugly, unfeminine goblin with deep neuroses and later a short, fat brown woman who also happens to be a young mother from a small country town. popular fandom, tragically, will almost always turn away from dealing with complexity of the latter for the empty calories of the former regardless of the quality gap between the two. if anything, watching the popularity of imogen and laudna's relationship has cemented my opinion that if veth had been different (either a man or a generically attractive white woman or someone more conventionally pretty just in general), widobrave would have been a massively popular ship, and i think it would have been regardless of veth's marriage. people can forgive a lot to write about their two generically attractive favorites getting together. they're a lot less forgiving for an ugly goblin or a fat, brown young mother, though.

tldr: reject modernity, embrace tradition. ship widobrave

*Talks Machina for C2E88, VOD no longer available, but a paraphrase of the quote can be found here **(2:09:30 on the YouTube VOD).

[blueblossomrose]

Hey I just send this parents series,I could ask for one with the idea parents interacting with Orpheus

- Anon 🍎

Of course! Here we go 🕊

This post is part of the Twisted Parents Series.

Content: Shrouds being extremely caring and protective grandparents, post-canon, fem!afab!MC, fluffy, broken humor.

Art not mine.

Comments and reblogs are very welcome! ♡

To start, it is necessary to understand that Orpheus is they only grandson.

Due to the sad and traumatic events with Ortho, Idia's closed-off personality and the family curse, Mr. and Mrs. Shroud did not have much hope of having grandchildren, even though they wanted them.

So when Idia showed up dating MC, they were to the point of setting off fireworks.

They almost did, but Mr. Shroud convinced Mrs. Shroud to save the fireworks for when they gain a grandchild.

As stated in resume hcs, they absolutely loved MC and couldn't accept even the thought of Idia breaking up with her. No way.

When the wedding came, they were happy, ecstatic, very joyful.

And then, the most anticipated news of the millennium for the Shroud family: MC was pregnant!

Mrs. Shroud immediately shouted: "ORTHO! BRING ON THE FIREWORKS!"

Meanwhile, Idia: ☠️

He already knew what this would probably entail from now on.

Mr. and Mrs. Shroud are very loving and protective grandparents. Especially on Mrs. Shroud's part, as she is more outspoken about it.

But Mr. Shroud isn't far behind either. He doesn't use many words, but his actions say how much he loves his grandson. Orpheus has absolutely everything he wants, whenever he wants it. His grandparents buy him anything, and create things for him.

Again, Orpheus is they only grandson. Everything that happened to Ortho and Idia in the past still affects them, even if they've gotten better at dealing with it over the years. But they make it clear that having Orpheus in the family is no way to replace Ortho or anything like that.

Having Orpheus in the family is they own blessing, a hope. Being part of the Shroud family for many years is considered a curse, for obvious reasons, in a way it really is. But being together there proved that it doesn't have to be like that all the time.

They learned how to better deal with the curse over the years, mainly with Idia's internal research, which brought some temporary solutions that were sufficient.

So when Orpheus was born, the situation was different, more favorable.

They are the kind of grandparents who will always defend their grandchild. Yeah Idia, you want to scold your son? Don't try that while the Shroud grandparents are visiting.

They won't let you scold their baby boy.

Orpheus name was chosen because it starts with "O" like Ortho. It was a tribute.

[Name] held Orpheus in her arms, rocking him gently as Mrs. Shroud finished straightening the little blue onesie she had bought especially for her grandson.

The living room of the home, normally slightly cold to match Idia's behavior, was filled with a warm and almost chaotic energy. Small electronic toys and gifts were scattered across the coffee table, the result of the recent visit.

"Oh, look how adorable he has become!" Mrs. Shroud exclaimed, her face was lit up with a genuine smile as her eyes roamed over the baby’s tiny figure.

“He’s 30% warmer in that onesie!” Ortho announced excitedly, jumping around [Name] and the baby, little sparkles emitting from his digital display, a sign of his joy.

“He looks perfect.” Mr. Shroud commented, his small, somewhat restrained smile reflecting a calmness that contrasted with his wife.

Beside him, Idia let out a dramatic sigh, as if he had already foreseen how this family scene would unfold.

“Oh, but the cap is missing from the set!” Mrs. Shroud suddenly exclaimed, pulling a small blue cap out of her shopping bag as if she had found the final ingredient for a perfect recipe.

She walked over to [Name], carefully reaching out and placing the small cap on top of Orpheus’s head, the baby’s faded blue hair already beginning to shyly poke through.

With the cap in place, Idia finally spoke, his voice slurred but slightly amused. “Heh, he looks like Mega Man.”

Ortho laughed at this. “That’s right!”

“The outfit is adorable, Mrs. Shroud!” [Name] said sincerely, smiling as she watched her son dressed so perfectly.

“Oh, [Name], please!” Mrs. Shroud replied, turning her attention to her with a warm gaze. “It’s been so many years! There’s no need to call me that. You can call me mother!”

As the two talked, Orpheus began to babble softly, chewing on his fingers. His innocent eyes sparkled, and his little nose wrinkled as if he sensed something strange.

Ortho, ever observant, knelt in front of the baby, leaning down excitedly to talk to him. “Orpheus, are you comfortable? Isn’t that the coolest onesie? I bet you’re 100% safe and warm now!”

But before he could say anything else, Orpheus took a deep breath, as if he were about to sneeze. Then…

“ATCH! ” A small, fiery flare exploded from the top of Orpheus’s head, burning the blue cap completely in a matter of seconds. The fabric crumbled into ash, leaving only the baby’s faded blue hair, now transformed into soft flames that danced in the air.

Everyone in the room froze for a moment, staring open-mouthed at the scene.

“Ahhh!” Mrs. Shroud gasped, her hands going to her face, but in awe, not panic. “Oh my God, his hair…! Ohhh my beautiful baby!”

“The temperature rose so quickly! The cap was destroyed!” Ortho said with genuine amazement.

“Ahhh... so young and already showing us his fiery hair…” Mr. Shroud murmured, emotional.

Idia, still standing next to [Name], widened his eyes in shock before exchanging a glance with his wife. [Name], in turn, began to laugh.

“Yeah… I guess we know who he gets it from,” she says, looking at her husband, who sighed deeply, running a hand through his own fiery hair.

Idia leaned over to look at the charred remains of the cap on the floor, frowning. “I guess I better get something to clean this up…”

He took a step toward the door, clearly trying to discreetly leave the commotion. However, before he could escape, a firm hand landed on his shoulder, making him freeze and sweat.

“Where do you think you’re going, Idy?...” Mrs. Shroud’s voice was soft, but filled with irrefutable authority. “Let’s take a picture. Of all of us. Now.”

"Gulp..." Idia swallowed dryly.

“I’ll get the camera,” Mr. Shroud said calmly, rising from his chair. He seemed almost pleased to be part of this special moment.

“[Name], [Name]! Can I hold Orpheus in the picture?” Ortho asked, jumping up and down excitedly.

“Of course, Ortho.” [Name] replied with a smile, carefully handing the baby over to her robotic brother-in-law, who held him with the precision of his mechanical parts and a surprisingly human affection.

Orpheus, in turn, let out a happy sound, the flames on top of his head dimming to a soft glow.

Shrouds. Always a curious experience.

[mikasa-imadebiscults]

HII

Can you please do hashira with s/o who defends them when someone speaks ill about them?

(HEYYYY ANON!! This took longer to make than expected but I hope ya enjoy this and have a wonderful day!!)

The Hashira’s S/O Defending them

(Characters Included- All the Hashira)

(Warning: Just fluff and a little swearing)

🦋Shinobu Kocho🦋

- She finds it really endearing that you defend her. Even though she tells you multiple times that she can fend for herself, she still finds it adorable that you care that much.

- She will definitely tease you a little afterwards, saying stuff like “Thanks for saving me, my knight and shining armor.” (and will giggle her ass off)

🐍Iguro Obanai🐍

- Usually ignores rude people, very rarely will he confront them. So when the both of you were making your way downtown, walkin’ fast, faces passed, and spending time together. You suddenly encountered a person being downright rude. Saying stuff like he needs to take off the mask or else. It took him by surprise when you got in front of him and started yelling at them.

- He quietly thanks you and takes you out to some food to help clear your head. Plus he wants to treat you as a way to express his gratitude.

🍡Mitsuri Kanroji🍡

- It’s not often that someone has a problem with Mitsuri, since she’s always kind, caring, and just a lovable person in general. Although one day someone had an issue with how bubbly she was. They were also nit-picking every single thing she was doing very loudly to one of their friends. Then finally you had enough and told them off.

- Mitsuri stood there in amazement at your bravery to stand up for others. Then she panicked and tried to tell you that it was okay so that you’d stop making a scene.

🔥Kyojuro Rengoku🔥

- He doesn’t let other people’s hurtful words bother him because he assumes that they just had a bad day or are going through a hard time so he just moves on with his day. When he noticed your demeanor suddenly changed he asked what was wrong. He assures you that it’s no big deal, but when the person keeps on going on and on you just had to say something.

- When you were walking over to them he tried to stop and reassure you that everything was okay. Although even though it didn’t work, he’s still appreciative of your spirit.

🔊Tengen Uzui🔊

- If Uzui encounters someone being disrespectful to him he usually just shoos them off or belittles them, unless the person is being rude to you, Makio, Suma, and Hina. Then he gets a little more riled up.

- If you ever go off on someone he’ll just stand back and watch the show. Afterwards he’ll be like “That’s right, tell ‘em what’s up.” in a joking way.

☁️Muichiro Tokito☁️

- It surprised him at first when you defended him, he had no idea how to react so he just stood there (like this: 🧍🏻)

- Whenever you come back to him he’ll say “Next time don’t waste your time on those scum, just knock them on the head.” His bluntness earned a laugh outta you.

🌪️Sanemi Shinazugawa🌪️

- When he heard someone talking shit, he turned towards their direction and was ready to say something. But he was cut off abruptly by you storming to them and letting them have it. He was shocked but kinda proud at the same time.

- After you’re finished, he says that he can defend himself and that you should save that energy for something else.

🌊Giyuu Tomioka🌊

- Usually if someone talks shit about him he’ll just ignore it, he has better things to worry about after all. He was bewildered when he overheard you defending him. You taking the time out of your day to defend him made him feel warm inside.

- He will make some food and give it to you as a thanks for having his back.

🪨Gyomei Himejima🪨

- Was really surprised, he certainly didn’t expect it. He calmly tells you that there will always be people in the world saying ill things about others, and to not get yourself all worked up over that.

- After the minor lecture he’ll pat your head and tell you that he’s very grateful for you defending him.

Masterlist

[alotofpockets]

No looking back | Steph Catley x Reader

5k celebration prompt: "Nightmares again?"

Woso masterlist | Words: 1.1k

-----

One miss-step in the first leg of the semi-finals. One goal conceded because of it. One defensive mistake that haunted Steph's dreams that night.

When you woke up you immediately noticed that something was off. Steph wasn't her usual cuddly and cheery self. She was awake already and staring at the ceiling with a serious look on her face.

You turn and cuddle into her side “What's going on, darling?” You ask after you kiss her cheek. “Just a nightmare.” Steph shrugged. “Wanna talk about it?” You tried, even though you knew the answer. “Not right now.” You press a kiss to her cheek again. “That's okay. I'm here to listen when you change your mind.” Steph nods, “I know, thank you. I'm gonna go for a walk with Calvin, to clear my mind.” 

When she stood up to go out with Calvin right away, you knew she needed some space. You stayed in bed a little longer to wake up properly, and then made your way to the kitchen to make some breakfast for everyone.

Calvin's bowl was already set up, and you were just plating your and Steph’s breakfast when they got back. Steph took off Calvin's collar, and he quickly ran to you. “Oh good morning, buddy, I missed you too.” You say giving him a big cuddle. “Come on bud, I’ve got your breakfast.”

The moment you turned back around, Steph wrapped her arms around you tightly. You quickly hug her back, and hold her tight. Moments like this you knew she needed you to hold her until she let go, so you held close until she pulled back. “Thank you for breakfast.” She said after pecking your lips.

In the following days the same pattern repeated. Steph having nightmares, not wanting to talk about it, taking Calvin out to clear her mind, and you have breakfast ready for when she comes back. When Steph would be ready to talk about her nightmares she would come to you, all you could do in the meantime was be there for her.

The morning Steph would leave for Lyon, you woke up to Steph once again already being awake and staring at the ceiling. “Nightmares again?” Your voice is still groggy from just waking up, but you’re genuinely getting worried about her now with the amount of nightmares she has had the past week. 

“Yeah, I keep replaying the mistake I made in the first leg.” You sat up a little to be able to look at Steph while she spoke. “Then I keep seeing all kinds of nightmare situations where I mess up again, and cost us the Champions League. Like a different way I let the team down each time. What if I will be the reason that we lose? I would never forgive myself if a mistake from me in both legs costs us a spot in the final.”

You reach out for her hand, “Darling, you are an amazing defender. An amazing footballer. Everybody makes mistakes, and what happened in the first leg wasn’t even really a mistake. You only misstepped because you were giving everything in you to try and defend that striker.” 

Steph shakes her head, “My everything wasn’t good enough.” You squeeze her hand, “You might not have been able to stop her, but that doesn’t mean that your everything wasn’t good enough. Yes they scored, but you were not the only factor that led up to that goal. Plus you had plenty of blocks after that goal, you fought back until the very last second, and you should be nothing but proud of your performance.” You knew that just your words weren’t going to be enough to convince her, but you could try, right?

“You’ll get back on the pitch Sunday, and you can give it your all again. Take what you learned from the first leg with you, but you’ll keep your focus on the match at hand. No matter the results, I am so proud of you.” Steph stayed silent for a moment while she played with your hand.

“Do you think we can turn it around?” She asks after a while. “Yeah, I do. With the mentality you and the team have, I know you will fight for it until the very end.” That seemed to be enough for Steph as she turned to you and pulled you into a hug. “Thank you, for everything.” You hug her back and let your head rest on her chest, “Always.”

You flew out to Lyon a day later to watch the game live at Groupama Stadium. Arsenal fans had come out in big numbers. The atmosphere from the moment you got there had been amazing. You were sitting with some of the other family members from the girls, chatting while you watched them warm up.

Steph had noticed you in the crowd and sent you a little wave. She seemed well rested, and strong. She had texted you after her training session that she was feeling a lot better, and that having talked about her nightmares had helped a lot. You were hoping that she would be able to fully leave the “mistake” in the last game and focus on this one.

You watched Arsenal come back from a deficit, the whole team was playing strong. Steph played so well. She made some incredible blocks, and was able to play her way out of tricky situations. You were so incredibly proud watching her performance on this top level.

When the final whistle blew your section went wild. Tears sprung to your eyes as you watched the girls run onto the pitch, celebrating the win. Meanwhile you were hugging all the family members of the girls around you, they had done it, and you were all so immensely proud of them.

After the initial celebrations on the pitch the girls were all walking around. That’s when Steph looked for you again. Her face lit up when she saw you again, wearing her jersey proudly. She pointed and waved at you, and you both knew exactly what it meant. 

Down on the pitch you saw Alessia walk up to Steph to pull her along to the stands. You had been sitting next to Alessia’s parents, so Alessia pulled Steph along to go up to you.

The moment she reached you she fell into your arms. “You did it, darling. I am so proud of you.” She smiled into your chest. “No looking back, only this moment.” You lean back to be able to see her face. “Only this moment.” You repeated.

-----

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