#up to you really if anyone wants to think about this as well. no pressure
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So, Easy Beauty by Chloé Cooper-Jones is not by any means a straightforward tale of the specific traumas and experiences of being a disabled woman. In many ways, it's an examination of how holding onto those traumas too tightly can keep you not just from positive chances for connection and experience, but understanding when your choices and behaviours are hurting other people.
But. It does talk about the trauma. And specifically, this splinter I've spent months now slowly drawing out of my soul, because this never happened to me except for the version of it that did happen to me. In her case, it was a conversation with a friend in high school:
I approached him in the library of our school. He was studying for a geometry test. He saw me, closed his notebook, and smiled.
“I feel like,” he said, teasing me, “there might be something you want to talk to me about.”
I told him yes, there was, and I said that I wanted to go to the homecoming dance with him and would he take me.
“Of course,” he said. Relief flooded through me so quickly it turned my stomach. “But,” he continued, “there’s something very important I need to talk to you about first.”
He proceeded to tell me that our female friends had been pressuring him for weeks to ask me to the dance, not wanting me to feel left out.
“They love you,” he said, “but they pity you and their pity won't help you in the world.” I can, to this day, recall the exact even tone in his voice, his smile. He reached across the table and took my hand. “I want to tell you something as your friend,” he said. “I want to protect you. When you ask a man like me on a date, you put us in a bad position.” He was still smiling; I was having a cute delusion and was in need of his loving, if uncomfortable, correction.
“It’s just the truth,” Jim said. “No man will want to date you unless he, too, is desperate or ugly.”
What I've felt, since I was very young, was this sense not just that no one would ever love me, but that I was so pitiful, so unlovable, such a complete failure of femininity, that expressing interest in another person was tantamount to forcing them to pity-fuck me. And how could I do something that horrible to them?
Well, at least in the years since then, I've learned that actually people feel no compunction about rejecting me!
I have almost always felt like such a complete failure at femininity, to the point that discussions about the female experience feel hypnotically surreal, because these things never happen to me. Y'all get catcalled and hit on? I'm struggling to dredge up memories of experiencing that firsthand. I grew up with grownups always warning me about men who'd want me for sex but didn't actually love me, and now I'm like... being wanted for sex? What's that like? I have literally ten seconds of experience of my desire for someone else being something that excited and interested them.
This is my own personal neurosis, not a prescription for widespread behaviour. But I've always kind of hated when people talk about slowburn romances and stories with pining as "two idiots in love" because on a visceral level, it doesn't feel stupid to me to believe you're repulsive and nobody will ever want you. It has always felt like the natural and obvious conclusion to enter adulthood with.
Up until two weeks ago I've always been very careful to describe my feelings about my body as part of me being crazy--I hate the way I look, I don't like seeing or hearing recordings of myself, I think I'm not pretty. Because obviously that means I'm actively working to rid myself of those emotions and attitudes! I've got it handled! I've admitted that I have a problem!
And that's because I always had it locked away in my heart that if I tried to make a factual claim about being ugly, people would say "No you're not!" just to make me feel better, and then I would never ever know if anyone who found me attractive really meant it, or if they were just doing it out of pity.
That is crazy. That's holding onto the lesson of that fucking shitbag who found Chloé attractive and fuckable two months fucking later once he got over himself. That's sitting around waiting for someone to come climb up into my unfuckable tower and do all the work of establishing a relationship themselves. That's lesbian sheep behaviour.
It's only just begun to feel possible that I could begin to take steps to seek people out and express interest in them, instead of holding perfectly still and making someone else do all the heavy lifting to get to me, when I haven't even made it known I wanted them to.
But this doesn't get talked about as part of "the female experience". When men talk about women's experiences in the dating market, they absolutely never mean women like me. Why bother with the experiences of women they wouldn't want to fuck anyway? It's not like we're people or some shit like that.
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Icarus Part 9
Hello and welcome back to this wonderful fic! Like I've said before having a set schedule for each story got hard and I've resorted to posting on vibes alone.
This week's vibes are all over the place because of the pain in my elbow. It's getting better but it's taking every ounce of self-control and self-preservation I have not write as many words a day as I can to make up for lost time and slowly work my way back up to my old schedule so I don't re-injure it.
But as I've said, if you want to see a specific work more often, drop me an ask and I'll see what I can do.
Here we have Eddie being a sweetheart and Steve and his friends being dorks.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8
****
NDAs were such a large part of Steve’s life he couldn’t remember a time he didn’t have them. For everything.
Even producers had to sign them before they could even breathe in the direction of The Fallen in the recording studio.
It was an exhausting but necessary part of his life. Just like the locked room in his apartment.
Shane and Spence had done an amazing job with Steve’s little notebook of song material. And shocker, only two of them were love songs. Most of the rest of the songs were about trying to survive in a world you had to hide.
He knew that a lot of critics would tell them to lose the masks if it bothered them so much, but at this point Steve didn’t care. They were working on their third album in three years and he was fucking tired.
“Again, from the top,” the producer said into the com. “Abbadon you got a little pitchy on the second line. Watch it. Astraeus, you’re coming in too early. It’s duh-ba-ba-dun and then you come in. You’re coming in on the first ba.”
Steve and Shane nodded and they began again.
Steve’s brain thought it was going to melt out of his ears. He had a test for his certification after today’s session in the studio and he was sure all the information would have leaked out by then.
But apparently Steve’s brain went on autopilot taking the test, and not only did he pass, he passed with full marks.
Spence clapped Steve shoulder. “Hey, man if this whole rockstar gig ever falls apart, you should come be an EMT with me.”
Steve grinned back. That wasn’t a bad idea actually. With his lifeguard training and his affinity for thinking well under pressure, it really was the ideal job.
“I might just take you up on that.”
They broke up for the day and as Steve was putting away his guitar his phone rang.
“Hey, Eds,” he greeted.
“Hey, sweetheart,” Eddie replied. “How did your test go?”
“I aced it!” Steve said, bouncing on the tips of his toes in excitement.
“What?” Eddie cried. “Baby, that’s so amazing! We’ll definitely go out tonight and celebrate. But that’s not the reason I’m calling.”
“Oh?” Steve asked.
“How far are you guys into the album?” Eddie asked, hesitantly.
Steve frowned for a moment. He looked over at Spence and Hopper. They had all had a really rough session today and it had become almost grueling in a way that the other two albums never felt.
“Not as far as we’d like,” Steve admitted. If anyone knew what they were going through it was Eddie.
“I’m sorry, babe,” Eddie commiserated. “Would it be better to continue at it or take break touring?”
Steve scratched his cheek thoughtfully. It would be nice to actually take time with the album and not push it out as quickly as possible.
“A break for sure,” Steve murmured. “We’re on our third album in three years, and even though we just got back from a tour, it was less exhausting than being in the studio right now.”
Eddie was silent for a moment. “Have you thought about changing the studio you’re working in? Sometimes a change of scenery can help.”
“I guess we could try,” Steve muttered. “I just didn’t think we had that kind of pull with the record label yet. I’ll call Robin later and see what she can do.”
Eddie hummed in agreement. “So the reason I was asking, babe, is that they have given us a choice of two sets of dates. One that would start at the beginning of the new year and one that would start next summer. And since we’re taking you with us, our management is going to coordinate with yours.”
“Oh.”
Steve wasn’t sure which he would prefer, if he was being honest. “Can I talk to my boys and get back to you on that?”
“Sure thing, Stevie,” Eddie said fondly. “You can tell all about what you guys decided when we meet up for drinks tonight, how does that sound?”
Steve let out a little sigh of relief. “Yeah, that sounds great, Eds. Text me the details.”
“You’ve got it!” Eddie said and then they both said their goodbyes and hang up.
More work, Steve thought mournfully. He didn’t want more work. He was tired and miserable and he should have been happy. The record was liking the album so far, they were about to go on tour with the biggest metal band in the world, he was dating Eddie. Why wasn’t he happy?
He put his head in his hands and forced himself to breathe. He knew that a lot of what he was feeling was being forced to wait when he didn’t want to.
That even if he was out as Abbadon, he couldn’t be out with Eddie. Both of their labels would have literal bitch fits. They could be out to their friends, but as far as the media went, that was off limits. Being bisexual or gay was better now, but it could still tank their careers if they came out with actual same sex partners. Steve’s career especially, new as it was.
Steve let out a low shuddering breath. This whole masked identities shit was tough. He didn’t know how those other bands could handle it. Maybe the difference was that their families knew. He honestly didn’t know.
But he had chosen to walk down this road. When they first started playing and getting turned away by how they looked, they chose to not change themselves, but to become someone else. And it worked and he really couldn’t argue with the results.
Steve loved his job. He loved that he got be in a band with his best friends and that his platonic soulmate was their manager. He loved getting out there on stage and singing his heart out. But it was hard sometimes.
He pulled out his phone and called Robin. “Hey, what are the label’s requirement on getting this album done? Like does it have to be at this studio with this producer?”
“One sec,” Robin said, pulling it up on her computer. She scanned the document complete with searching for key words. “Doesn’t look like it. Why? What’s up?”
“You know how we’ve hit a wall in the studio?” Steve asked around chewing on his thumb.
She scoffed. Of course she knew. “And you’re thinking a change of venue might help or at the very least a new producer?”
“Yeah...” Steve said. “Eddie suggested it, but I wasn’t sure if we had that kind of clout with the record label.”
Robin was quiet on the line, but Steve could feel the cogs in her head turn. “I’ll get on it.”
“Thanks,” he said, breathing out a sigh of relief. “Did Eddie’s label send over the tour dates?”
“Let’s see...” she hummed. “Yup! I’m reading through them... and I’m guessing you to talk with everyone before making a final decision?”
“Right in one,” Steve said. “Preferably with whether or not we get someone else in to produce.”
“You’ve got it, babe,” she said. “Does this have a deadline?”
“Eddie said he would like to know by tonight,” he said, “but I can tell him we’re still working things out and that’s we’ll get back to him.”
“That would be ideal, yes.”
Steve huffed out a laugh. “I’ll still talk to the boys and at least get a feel for what they’re thinking even if we can’t shift producers or studio.”
“Sounds good,” Robin said. “I’ll get back to you as soon as I learn anything.”
He hung up and pulled up the group chat and messaged his friends to meet at his place. He had stuff he wanted to talk with them regarding upcoming tour dates.
Simon and Shane texted back immediately. Spence had left them on read for about fifteen minutes before responding with a question about how long they would be.
And then the ribbing began.
-Oohh...you with that girl?- Shane
-He totally is!!- Simon
-Pics or it didn’t happen- Steve
-Pics!- Simon
-Yeah, man, is she cute?- Shane
-Why do you care, Shane? You’re gay- Spence
-Because like a flower I can appreciate the feminine form, even if I don’t want to fuck it- Shane
Pic comes in of Spence on his couch with a gorgeous dark-skinned woman with soulful eyes and long black hair.
-Meet Nadia
-Lucky guy!- Simon
-That’s quite the flower :P- Shane
-Yeahhh...I’m sorry, man, as much as I would like to let you stay with your lady love, we really need to talk. Business. :(
-I love my job. I love my job. I love my job. I love my job. -Spence
-lol! You keep telling yourself that and maybe one day I’ll believe you- Shane
-GASP! Spence doesn’t love us! :’(- Simon
-Damn it. Fine I love you all- Spence
-Simon uses sad emoji against Spence, it’s super effective! (pokeball emoji)- Steve
-Meet at my place as soon as you can- Steve
There was the usual chorus of affirmative responses and Steve set down his phone.
He looked up at the ceiling as he huffed out a sigh. His friends were on the way, Robin was trying to fix the problem with them hitting a brick wall making their album, and Eddie was supportive.
It helped that Spence was dating now, too. They could commiserate about their love lives.
Simon hated that while he could get girls as Asmodeus but not as himself he swore off dating until he found someone who liked him for him and not just because he was a rock god.
Shane just liked having fun. Wherever that took him. Usually gay bars with lots of booze and dancing.
They weren’t “rich and famous” enough for the wild parties and shit. At least not yet. They were getting a lot traction with their second major album though so that was probably going to change fast.
Steve just glad that he would have Eddie and Robin holding his hand though this.
He looked over at the contract on his table and sighed. Like Spence, he really did love his job. And he knew that there were hundreds of bands wishing to be in his shoes.
He could do this.
He was, after all Abbadon, lead singer of The Fallen and he knew how to do this shit.
****
Tag List:
@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03
@spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @gregre369 @a-little-unsteddie
@chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @danili666 @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach
@val-from-lawrence @goodolefashionedloverboi @i-must-potato @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog
@justforthedead89 @vecnuthy @irregular-child @yikes-a-bee @bookbinderbitch
@bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon
@cinnamon-mushroomabomination @y4r3luv @dragonmama76 @scheodingers-muppet @ellietheasexylibrarian
@thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman @eyehartart @dawners
@thespaceantwhowrites @tinyplanet95 @iamthehybrid @croatoan-like-its-hot @papergrenade
@cryptid-system @counting-dollars-counting-stars
#my writing#stranger things#steddie#ladykailtiha writes#rockstar steve harrington#rockstar eddie munson#rockstar au
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Hello!
I would like to ask if there's already a post a long the lines of "Why Rosegarden is a good ship" or reasons to ship RG? If none would it be alright to ask for your insights?
It's my first time being interested in them but I just can't wrap it around my head for now. I would love to read about them!
Thank you in advance ^^
Hi Anon!
I have not yet made any posts specifically with these questions in mind, no. Just a small, unfinished, series about why I believe the ship is likely to be canon. I am happy to offer some insight, but I don't know that I'm going to give you the answers you're looking for. 😅
First and foremost, the questions you're asking aren't really ones that can be answered objectively. What makes a ship "good" or "bad" is largely subjective, as there are as many ways to view a ship as there are people viewing it. I could make an argument about how I think it is - objectively speaking - a well written pairing that follows the typical beats and tropes (with delightful subversions) of a good romance arc, that also parallels how other canon ships within RWBY have been established... but at the end of the day, if you're not a fan of what RG is about, then there's not much I can say to change your mind.
Which brings me to your second question. The best reasons to ship RG are going to be the same reasons for why anyone should ship anything: ship it if you want to, ship it if it resonates with you, and ship it if you enjoy it.
If their characters, interactions, themes, parallels, allusions, tropes, symbolisms, foils, designs, messages, etc., aren't your cup of tea, it's completely okay if you pick something else on the menu! So long as you don't like. verbally harass people that do like it or fill the tag w the same discourse that we are all very tired of seeing.
I don't know if that is a sufficient answer to your question, so I'll take a chance and also provide some of my personal reasons as to why I think it's "good" and why I ship it. While there are many reasons I can't all include, the main things are just how much they mirror each other:
From their complementary character designs (red vs. green, silver vs. gold, moon vs. sun, etc.),
To shared fairytale allusions (Little Prince and the Rose, Dorothy and Princess Ozma/Tip, Warrior in the Woods, etc.),
To the narrative parallels (both being the youngest of the group when they joined respectively; how both of their attachments to each other keep being put into focus; to their shared themes around choice and identity: Ruby having chosen adventure but feeling as if she has no choice but to keep moving forward, while Oscar was chosen by adventure but chooses to do what he can despite his circumstances; Oscar not knowing who he is because of the merge and asking: "I'm just going to be another one of his lives, aren't I?", versus Ruby not wanting to be who she is after chasing the the ghost of an unachievable ideal, but being asked "what if you could be anyone?"; how they're both just kids thrown into war and unfair responsibility before they even have a chance to figure out the kinds of people they want to be, etc.),
to perhaps, most importantly, the show of mutual support between the two of them.
Ruby supports everyone as best she can. She is always giving to and supporting others as a show companionship and leadership. But thanks to V9 and also E4 of RWBY Beyond, we know this was not sustainable or sufficiently reciprocated.
She was let down by Weiss who constantly managed to hit her right in her insecurities; let down by Blake who - even while trying to uplift her - just ended up adding more pressure by treating Ruby like a role model; to Yang and Qrow who both tried to support her as best they could, but kept comparing her to Summer in the process; to Penny having so much of her own lack of experience, stressors, and very immediate worries going on that she couldn't offer Ruby the support she needed even if she wanted to; to Jaune flipping his lid at her and pointing the blame even when he himself was guilty and knew he was out of line; to Ozpin, Qrow, Maria, Tai, Summer, Cordovin, Ironwood, etc., all being adults who could have taken responsibility or done the right thing, but fumbled or failed leaving her to pick up the pieces in their wake.
But Oscar?
We see it from Oscar's introduction that he - like their shared fairytale allusions - is in awe from the moment he meets her. But after one conversation about the weight of her grief, trauma, and the responsibilities she is carrying - a conversation she has not had with anyone else up to this point - he immediately sees how heavy Ruby's burdens are. Saying, as early as V5: "This must be really hard on her too". And while it is subtle, he never stops looking after her as best he can as the volumes go onward ("Looks like you're needed elsewhere."/"You're sure?"/"Yeah, I've got it."). However, it's only in V9 that her sister Yang is asking "why didn't she just talk to us?". It is only in V9 when her partner Weiss admits: "Maybe it's because she didn't feel like she could". It is only V9 when Ruby finally lays her burdens out to someone else again, this time to the Blacksmith, after almost having given up completely.
For a character who's 116 episode long arc has been about carrying the weight of responsibility far beyond her limits, never asking for anything in return no matter how difficult it gets... to meet another character that instantly notices her struggles and makes a conscious effort to help where all others have failed? To have one conversation and say "that looks heavy, let me help you carry that" without her asking or waiting for an answer? It's just one of the most beautiful acts of care I can think of. The themes and the parallels all resonate very strongly with me on a personal level, making it - in my humble opinion - a brilliant, and very stable foundation for a relationship, and for a story.
Thank you for your question, I hope I was able to offer some of the insight you were looking for. 💕
#i could have spoken about the reasons by most people say they don't get the ship and broke down the biases behind them#but that veers too close to d/scourse and didn't feel as productive#ask#asks#anon#rosegarden#rwby rosegarden#why i ship rosegarden#ruby rose#oscar pine
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❥ 𝙡𝙚𝙩 𝙞𝙩 𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙥𝙚𝙣
trent frederic.
word count: 4.0k
warning: explicit content
"let it happen (it's gonna feel so good)" — tame impala
A/N: this fic was inspired by the locker room raw of trent from december of 2022, gifed above. if you’d like to watch it, you can here. enjoy, and as always, happy reading!
- - -
Being a reporter isn’t all it’s made out to be when you’re harboring something that could put your career at risk.
Yet that’s exactly what you were doing, working as a journalist for the Boston Bruins.
Being in the presence of sweaty, large hockey players was something you’d inevitably have to get used to when working the field that you did. However, you never seemed to struggle with it. When people asked, you always told them that you’d simply set any minor attractions aside and focus on your work, rather than your desires. It was easy.
Until Trent Frederic came into the picture.
Something about him caught your attention the first time you stood in his proximity amongst the other reporters. He wasn’t attractive in the conventional way you knew the other players were. Most people would say he was “cute”, or “good-looking”, but that was the extent. So maybe that was it. Maybe it was his eyes, or his freckles, or the curls that poked out from under his hats.
Or maybe it was simply how fucking gorgeous he was to you, regardless of anyone else’s opinion.
That being said, you were frustrated; frustrated with yourself for letting his appearance get to you, even though you fought yourself daily for years to make sure it never happened. You knew that, at some point, someone would get the best of you, and unfortunately, he just happened to be that someone. You wanted to blame him. To take some of the pressure off of yourself for once. You wanted him and his goddamned charm to be at fault instead of you.
It’s the way he looks at you, you’d tell yourself. He’s trying to get a rise. He has to be. After all this time, you can’t be that weak.
Right?
But you knew that you were. You were weak for him. And it was just about the most unprofessional thing you could do in your position.
“What do you think it’s going to be like—to be in this type of environment?” the first reporter’s voice sounded, blinking you out of your already nervous state as you stood beside Trent.
“Uh, it kinda reminds me of a Penn State,” he replied, hand coming up to wipe the sweat from his forehead. “Or kinda like the, uh…What is it, Yost Arena in Michigan?”
The reporter nodded to confirm his statement. “I like those two rinks, so…hopefully, uh—thought we always,” he paused to breathe, “always played well there, so…hopefully it’s similar.”
Then it was your turn to speak up, and when you cleared your throat, his head pivoted in your direction. His eyes followed your voice and landed on you, his chest rising and falling as he awaited your question.
“Are there any adjustments you had to make where you’re playing in a,” you hesitated as you watched his tongue slip past his parted lips, tracing a line from the center of his bottom lip to the corner of his mouth. Your mind did all but ignore this and his audible, heavy breaths. You quickly blinked out of the state.
“In a smaller arena?” you finally continued in a humiliating attempt to sound put-together. “Or—”
“I don’t think so, I think when you’re playing you really only see the first,” he gestured his hand, “ten rows and up, so I think it’ll be fine. About the same.”
His gaze lingered on you for a split second longer than it should’ve before he turned the other way to face Sophia as she asked the next question. And it was then that you were certain he’d picked up on you.
Not to mention him abruptly cutting you off.
A few minutes passed before the cameras cut and the small crowd dispersed, leaving only him and you standing alone in front of his stall. But his voice stopped you before you could even manage a step in the other direction.
“Hey,” he called out calmly, and when you turned back around you were met with the sight of him standing nonchalantly, arms folded in front of him. “I don’t think we’re done yet.”
“…Yeah, we are. We already finished the media, no?”
“The media’s done,” he spoke, straightening himself out and taking a step toward you. “But we’re not done.”
“Well, I’m sorry to burst your bubble, Trent, but I have places to be. So if you’ll kindly excuse me—”
“You’re not going anywhere.”
You were taken aback, no doubt, but knew that you had to oblige him whether you wanted to or not. So you let out a sigh and shook your head.
He slipped off his padding, then silently jerked his head to the side, motioning for you to come with him as he walked down the outside hallway and into the nearest empty room. He promptly shut the door behind him, then walked toward you.
“What is it?” you finally piped up.
“Do you have a thing for me?”
“Wow, okay,” you scoffed, irritation lacing your defensive tone. “Do you have some sort of ego issue, or?”
“Do not play dumb right now,” he rasped, leaning closer. “You don’t think I’ve noticed the looks? The staring? The stuttering?”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” you rebutted, nostrils flared as you swallowed thickly.
“Oh, so you mean to tell me that I wasn’t just saving your ass back there?”
You sighed, finally letting your guard down as you lowered your voice. “Fine,” you admitted through clenched teeth. “I have a thing for you.”
And just like that, the corner of his lips twitched just slightly, as if he were suppressing a smirk. He finally leaned back and gave you room to breathe, so you seized the opportunity and took a long breath. He remained silent, waiting for you to elaborate.
“No matter how bad I want to act on it, I can’t, because I’m already in deep enough shit for wanting you in the first place,” you flatly explained. “But if we ever got caught for something like that…I’d lose my damn job, Trent. The job that I worked my ass off trying to get, and the one that’s already at enough of a fucking risk because of you.”
You shook your head disappointedly. “So sorry if I’m not getting my words right the first time.”
You brushed past him, trying to make your way toward the door but were quickly brought to a standstill when he spoke up.
“You think you’re the only one in that situation?”
You turned back around to face him, brows knit together in confusion as he stepped closer.
“And before you up and leave, I need to make something clear to you,” he spoke.
“Trent—”
“If I wasn’t attracted to you, I wouldn’t be enabling you like I do. And I sure as hell wouldn’t be trying to help you,” he told you promptly. “So think about that next time you want to think you’re the only one with problems.”
“God, Trent, that’s—this whole thing is beyond unprofessional. On both ends,” you scoffed in disbelief. “And you know that even if I wanted to, I couldn’t do anything with you because it would put me at risk.”
Of course, you wanted to. You were lying straight through your teeth. It was clear as day to Trent, too, because the subtleties told him otherwise—the hint of hesitation lacing your tone and the unease in your expression. But, to be fair, it was difficult to mask. You were already struggling with how inappropriate the whole conversation was.
And after all, nobody said it was easy to stop imagining what someone would taste like.
He stepped closer and your feet carried you backward until you came into contact with the wall behind you. Your head tilted back as you looked up at him, swallowing the lump in your throat.
“Not to mention it’s a,” you hesitated, “—a conflict of interest.”
“Write whatever the hell you want about me, because it won’t change how drawn to you I am.” A large hand gently placed itself on your hip, “And it won’t change that I’d take that chance with you.”
The tension in your face softened, sincerity bleeding through his voice as he spoke to you. You took a long, deep breath and—against any remaining shred of logic in your conflicted mind—lifted your hand to his chest, slowly trailing upward until it reached the curls on the back of his neck.
“If we got caught,” you reiterated, “you’d be the player who hooked up with some reporter…And I’d be the slut who couldn’t keep it professional.”
You softened your voice, “I’ve worked too hard to let it all go to waste, Trent.”
“Sounds more like a societal issue than an us issue,” he shrugged, “and last I checked…two adults deciding to get a little physical isn’t exactly illegal.” His voice shifted to a low rasp, “But I can’t wrap my head around why you’re still here, because someone else in your current position wouldn’t still be here unless they’d started to change their mind.”
“God, you’re frustrating,” you muttered. Warm breath hit your lips, forcing you to realize how close he’d become. Your eyes watched as the remaining beads of sweat dripped slowly down his face. “I haven’t considered anything,” you lied.
“Then tell me to stop.”
Your conscience told you to say it; that stupid guilty conscience that you were admittedly fucking tired of. Normally, it would’ve forced you to rattle off all of the reasons you could’ve said it—why you should’ve—but it didn’t. Because every other part of you wanted the complete opposite. Every consequence seemed to evacuate your thoughts, with Trent conveniently replacing each one.
So you finally turned your mind off and let your body take control.
His lips roughly connected with yours and you didn’t protest. You were quickly pinned to the wall by his hips as his fingers untucked your shirt, hooking under the fabric and slipping it up and over your head, allowing it to hit the floor, and his lips hungrily returned to yours. He was too intoxicating to deny, and the feeling of his tongue as it rolled slowly over yours only solidified that fact.
You reached up and pried the baseball cap off his head, tossing it aside and running your hand through his hair, transferring the moisture from his curls to your fingers, beginning to dampen them. Your other hand slipped under the fabric of his shirt, peeling it from his upper body to reveal his toned physique underneath, which you’d only ever caught small glances of. And boy, did it not disappoint.
When his lips left yours, you whimpered at the loss of contact, but they soon returned to your skin, peppering it with kisses as he trailed a path from your shoulder up to your neck, spending extra time there. Your hands traveled to his bare back, palms resting on his shoulder blades as your head tilted to the side, granting him more access.
“We’re—fuck,” you panted, eyes screwed shut, “we’re screwed if someone hears us.”
“That’s why we’re not near the door,” he muttered, kissing up to your jawline. “And also why we’re going to have to be quiet. Sound good?”
You nodded softly, then felt his lips move to your throat, eyes fixated on him as he reached your collarbones. At his movement, your hands lifted and moved to the wall beside you, palms flattened against it. He continued the path downward and lowered himself to his knees. Soft lips could now be felt on your stomach, burning the skin in their path.
Fingers curled into the waistband of the leather skirt hugging your hips and swiftly removed it, with it the lacy material beneath. The cool air of the empty room hit your exposed skin, but you didn’t pay it any mind.
It was all too much when his hands pried your thighs open so he could slip between them.
His warm breath grazed the sensitive skin between your legs. You knew how close he was. Then you were proved right as he gently pressed a trail of kisses from the inside of your thigh up to the flesh between them. His tongue parted your folds, dragging itself up and down slowly, gathering your taste on it.
He let out a groan of approval when your hand darted out, fingers tangling in his hair as you pushed him closer. You wanted—no, needed more, especially when his mouth wrapped around your clit, sucking it gently as his calloused hands wrapped around your thighs, pulling you into him.
He lapped at you hungrily, building you up and forcing you to chase your release. He was no stranger to being between a girl’s legs. He could’ve gone hours with someone’s thighs wrapped around his head. But he never needed to.
And you were going to face the same fate.
“Shit,” you sighed weakly, running your fingers through his damp hair. Heavy breaths filled his ears, your voice breaking through and turning them into soft whimpers.
“Mm,” he hummed against your skin, and your hips slowly, painfully rolled, the grip on your thighs making it near impossible for you to move them enough to give yourself the relief you craved.
But he took this as a sign, holding you tighter as he delved his tongue into you, steadily moving it in and out as he brought you to your breaking point. The thrill of being at such a risk only fueled his fire. Trent always refused to pull away until a girl was properly satisfied. The payoff was as rewarding as ever to him. So why deny someone the pleasure that you were giving them? He never understood it.
Besides, he always got off on seeing a girl come undone so fast.
His name fell from your parted lips in a moan as he flattened his tongue against your clit, that being the final push over the edge. Expert flicks of his tongue worked your body through your release, prolonging the process, and he began to taste you on the tip of it. He collected every last bit, moaning softly in satisfaction as he swallowed.
Finally, he pulled away, pressing a final kiss to your skin before releasing his grip on your thighs and standing up slowly. The grin he donned as he straightened out burned a hole through any remainder of the facade that masked your weakness; the one that made you give in to him unwillingly, without as much as an afterthought. It was too late for regrets. And you didn’t particularly seem to have any.
He watched as your chest rose and fell with each heavy breath as your eyes seemingly fixated on his lips. His thumb came up and wiped the corner of his mouth, then moved in front of his lips for him to lick it clean.
“Keep staring, why don’t ya,” he teased, wrapping an arm around your waist.
“You’ve got some nerve saying that when I could just walk right out,” you quipped.
“Then do it,” he laughed, confidence lacing his expression. “Nobody’s stopping you,” he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “But you’d be running quite the risk walking out of here with practically no clothes on, hm?”
“Yeah, as if that’s the only reason I’m not going anywhere,” you rolled your eyes, knowing full well what would happen if you were to waltz out of the room in the state you were in.
Luckily for you and him, there wasn’t a doubt in your mind that you’d be moving from your spot.
Weakened legs encircled his waist as he hoisted you up, and your arms wrapped around his neck. His hand reached between you and slid the thin fabric of his pants down just far enough to adjust himself. The other gripped the underside of your thigh, that and the wall supporting your weight as he held you up.
“You think anyone’s looking for us?” you muttered, the pads of your fingers dancing along the skin of his back.
“Probably,” he answered quietly as he lined himself up, and you started to feel the pressure between your legs. “But I don’t care.”
Then, he loosened his hold on you, sliding your body down the wall as he forcefully lowered you onto him. Your lips parted in momentary shock as he stretched your walls. The all-new sensation promptly clouded your vision. Crescent-shaped marks appeared on his skin when your nails dug into it. The size of his wide cock challenged that of any other man you had the unfortunate pleasure of fucking. They made you feel empty. But Trent filled you just right. He was almost too big.
Almost.
When you finally came to, your eyes darted toward his face, quickly meeting his in a forceful gaze. You tried to steady your breaths, but your body refused to allow it until you were fully adjusted to him. Instead, you elicited what sounded like whimpers. And of course, that only drove him more wild.
“Fuck, you’re tight,” he groaned, brows knitting together as he pulled you up, adjusting you to be more firm in his grasp. “All that professionalism turn you into a prune or something?”
“Shut up,” you retorted, having a sharp intake of breath as he sunk you back down.
He laughed in response. “Mad that I’m right?”
“No,” you were quick to deny. “You’re just,” you hesitated, then cut yourself off sharply, “—just shut up.”
“Sure thing, Miss Reporter.”
That was enough verbal volleying for him and he pulled back, waiting a moment before pushing himself back in. The movement stifled you dead, practically severing your vocal cords as your head fell forward and your forehead promptly connected with his bare shoulder. He groaned in approval as your sensitive walls constricted around his length, his thrusts moving at a slow pace to allow your body to adjust.
Your previous release worked to lubricate the place you were joined, giving him leeway to pick up speed as he smoothly slid in and out, hitting places your mind couldn’t have possibly imagined he—or anyone—could. And Trent, on the flip side, was relishing in how perfectly you enveloped him; how fucking good the acute pressure felt each time he pumped his hips and buried himself to the hilt.
Desperately you clung to him, using some of the strength left in you to keep yourself stable, while the rest went toward forcing yourself into silence. But soon, there wasn’t enough to do both, and his shoulder wasn’t enough to prevent your moans from bouncing off the walls of the small space you inhabited. And if they weren’t taken care of soon, they’d bleed through the walls, and the exact fear that almost drove you out of the room in the first place would have become a reality.
So he whispered your name—piquing your attention enough to lift your head—and pushed his lips to yours, enveloping your mouth in a deep kiss that was enough to keep your noises at bay. At least, for the time being.
Rough palms pressed firmly into your thighs, a grip so firm that the fingers were likely to leave marks. But you didn’t seem to care, nor did you make an effort to stop it from happening. You’d be angry at it later. It wasn’t exactly a prominent worry in your mind while he sharply fucked into you, giving you as much as you could take.
And take him, you could.
His tongue slipped into your mouth and grazed your teeth as your hand snaked into his wet curls and fisted them, hard. He quickly removed his hands from your thighs and pressed them into the small of your back, arms pulling you impossibly closer as your legs tightened around his waist. The movement altered your position and shifted him inside of you, which forced him to hit your sweet spot, prying a moan from deep within your stomach.
It wasn’t often that a guy was rough with you, but he was. And whether you’d admit it or not, you liked it.
“Right—right there,” was all you could manage.
At your word, he sped up, cock burying itself as far into you as your bodies would allow, soft grunts leaving his mouth as he exhaled. With each thrust, his name fell from your lips in soft whimpers as if it were a prayer. And then, the culmination of his hands on you, the noises he made, and the feeling of his cock twitching inside of you as it craved its release brought you to yours.
The pleasure that washed over you as you came apart around him elicited a long, breathy moan from your throat. Once again, your vision was blackened, mind lost in a repeating loop of the only palpable thought it was able to conjure up, which was how incredible he felt from this angle, fucking you through it. And even when he brought his hand to your mouth to silence you, you allowed it without forethought.
Soon after, the pressure of you contracting around his length, paired with the sound of his name ringing in the form of your voice brought him to his breaking point. He shot into you, thoroughly coating your inner walls in a layer of hot, white liquid. You moaned weakly into his palm, taking him with a strength you would’ve been sure you didn’t have left in you. You maintained it for a few moments longer until his movements finally halted. He stilled inside and gently removed his hand from your mouth, a loud gasp filling his ears as you breathed air into your lungs.
The only sound occupying the small, dark room was that of heavy breaths, the walls absorbing the noise and preventing it from reaching the outside. Finally, Trent carefully pulled out and lowered you back to the ground, and you were grateful that his hands kept a loose hold on you for the support you knew you required.
His hands roamed your sides before finally removing themselves from your body. He pulled his pants back up to his waist and promptly adjusted himself, then bent down and picked up your discarded clothes, giving them back to you as he came back up. You thanked him quietly before stepping into the thin fabric, slipping it up your legs in unison with the leather skirt before returning the blouse to your body. Meanwhile, Trent grabbed his shirt and tugged it on, the taut fabric hugging his upper half as he moved back into your field of view.
“Hey,” he finally spoke up, prompting your head to tilt up in his direction. “You okay?”
“Mhm,” you hummed in response, arms folded as your hands rubbed them. “This…this was a one-time thing, Trent. To get it out of our systems.”
“I know,” he nodded, “but I don’t think it’s gonna stay that way.”
“Trent, if anyone ever—”
“I know,” he cut you off, lowering his voice to a near whisper as he stepped closer. “I know. But you can’t deny that it felt good to give in.”
Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip in contemplation as you considered his words, then exhaled deeply through your nose. “Yeah,” you dejectedly sighed.
His finger tilted your chin up. “Just think about it, ‘mk?”
You silently nodded and turned to the door, silently making your way over as he followed closely behind you. The air was tense. It had undoubtedly thickened since your bodies parted. You stopped in front of the door, the soft noise of his breathing distracting you. Knowing his proximity to you prevented you from opening the door just yet.
And before your head could catch up with your body, you turned around swiftly and kissed him.
“There’s not much to think about, anyway,” you muttered softly, bringing a hand to his chest and trailing it up to the back of his neck. Your fingers gently brushed the tips of his curls, thumb pressing lightly against his skin just below them. “I’ve already made my decision,” you quietly added.
“Yeah?”
To compartmentalize. Let your body decide what it wanted, regardless of the consequences.
And it wanted him.
#boston bruins#trent frederic#fanfic#trent frederic fic#boston bruins imagine#hockey#trent frederic imagine#hockey fic#trent frederic smut#trent frederic x reader
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I like how the show Young Royals has the forbidden love relationship be the straight relationship. How that relationship is forbidden is because of the amount of abandonment of Sara's loved ones and herself that that love would entail.
Sara could decide to keep being August's emotional support because she genuinely cared about him, and he would eventually learn to understand her needs and who she is and give her the same support. But at what cost?
Sara did not see what she did to Simon as a betrayal for ages because the damage had been done already. But when August didn't go to the police, she realised that he had deceived her with the knowledge she gave him about Simon to once again target her brother. He made her complicit in Simon's betrayal, and he didn't think what that would do to her.
She didn't realise until the gun scene how treacherous she had been to Simon and for how long. She had put her feelings for August above her feelings for her brother, who she felt had been disloyal to her by rekindling a relationship with their dad. Then she begins the relationship with August as a form of blackmail to keep her from telling Simon so she can get a place in the school.
Their relationship's existence was bad for their integrity and began with manipulation. When August tells her that she's just like him and she knows what needs to be done to reach your dreams, he is telling her that you know how to step on other people to get what you want. This is how he sees what she's done, and she's starting to see that that is what she's done with her blind ambition. That's not who she wants to be. She just wants to belong, have friends, ride horses, and be independent and not a burden on anyone. (She then goes on to find self-love, friendship love, and familial love that is wholesome. She even forgives Micke and accepts him for who he is fully).
Young Royals doesn't reward this forbidden love with a happy ending. The homosexual love has the happy ending because THIS is the wholesome relationship.
Though Wilmon have problems in their communication, ultimately, they both care about each other's happiness and wellbeing. Simon loves Wille for the person he is, not the superfici role assigned to him. He loves him for his kindness and consideration and for really seeing Simon for who he is and valuing him in return. Wille loves Simon for who he is as his equal. He loves his integrity and his sense of self, even in elite spaces that see him as lesser than. Wille loves Simon's individualism, and he is learning to love that trait in himself as well. Wille has always just been someone's brother, someone's son, a country's Crown Prince. He is never valued for himself until he meets Simon.
(Also, edited to add, they love each other enough to let each other go. Simon sees his presence in Wille's life as putting pressure on his role as Crown Prince. He breaks up with him for his own self-love and boundaries but also because he wants Wille to figure out what he wants on his own without Simon muddying the waters. He wants Wille to make choices for his now sake. Not his mother's or Simon's. He makes the same decision of self-love and need for Wille's self-determination at the end of Season 1. Wille tells Simon how he doesn't want to hurt him but he realises that he is clumsy at times in how he comes across. He is letting Simon go because he respects Simon's boundaries even though it is hurting him to not fight and keep the relationship going. He realises he has to sort out his own problems. And he is eventually brave enough, after listening to Wille's Song, to choose self-love and tell his mother what he needs.)
The fact that the creators of this show had to fight to show Wilmon's love fully to the audience, tells me that this show was a revolution in how it shows what is forbidden love and what isn't. (Netflix didn't want the sex between the two teenage boys shown and Lisa had to explain that if the show had straight sex in the previous season, they had to equally allow lgbtq sex). Wilmon's love making is such important communication between the characters and between the audience and the characters. What we see, when we see it is important for the publically perceived couple in-universe but also to our society that sees so little wholesome homosexual love in teenagers on our screens. It shouldn't be a revolution to love another or yourself is one of the messages of the show.
I wonder what other ways Lisa and Rojda had to fight with Netflix to tell the story the way they did and how much compromise they had to make. I remember them nearly cutting the discussion about the Kris book in season 2. If they had more creative control, I wonder how much more story we would have got. Definitely more episodes, even if the story was told in three parts. Probably, if they were told they could have three seasons at the start, Lisa could have spread the plot points more evenly over the three seasons. Perhaps episode 6 could have been spread over 2 episodes.
Anyway, my rambly thoughts about some of the meta storytelling in Young Royals.
#young royals#simon eriksson#wilmon#yr s3 spoilers#prince wilhelm#young royals analysis#sara eriksson#august horn of årnäs#lisa ambjörn#rojda sekersöz#lgbtq love#forbidden love
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Eternally Mine, Chapter 2
‘God, I don’t know why I’m so nervous!’ Louise laughed while Claire did her make-up for her.
‘Don’t worry, I felt the same on my first date with Loki. You’ll be absolutely fine though.’ Claire assured her sister.
Louise was round at Claire and Loki’s place, they were getting ready for their double date. Chris had asked Loki and Claire advice on asking Louise out the weekend after Loki’s birthday. He knew that she might be anxious about going alone with him, so Claire came up with the idea for a double date.
‘I wonder why he’s into me, I mean… he could have anyone!’ Louise said quietly while Claire finished off putting on some eyeliner to her.
‘Hey, don’t say that about yourself.’ Claire scolded. ‘You’re stunning, you know I’ve always been envy of your looks.’
‘You’re just saying that.’ Louise argued.
‘I’m not! Now, shut up and do my make-up for me.’ Claire said as she nudged her off the chair, making Louise laugh.
-
‘What if I can’t control myself around her.’ Chris said worriedly as he paced back and fore while buttoning up his white shirt. He was wearing black suit trousers with the white shirt, he had a black suit jacket to go over the top.
‘You will, you’re strong willed. If I managed to resist Claire for so long, you’ll manage to resist Louise.’ Loki assured him.
Loki was round at Chris’ place, waiting for him to get ready before they went to pick up Claire and Louise.
‘Tie or no tie?’ Chris asked as he held up a black tie.
‘No tie. It’s fancy casual.’ Loki said after pondering a moment. He was wearing a blue shirt with black trousers, no suit jacket though.
‘How do you cope with the urge to feed from Claire?’ Chris huffed.
‘Well, it got easier over time the more I spent with her. Just touching her helped a little. Though it wasn’t till I fed from her the first time that it got it out of my system. Don’t get me wrong, I still want to feed from her every chance I can, but it’s a manageable thirst. Getting used to being around her scent will take time.’
‘Her scent just drives me wild.’ Chris admitted. ‘I don’t want to spook her though.’
‘You won’t. Just be yourself…’ Loki then pulled a face. ‘Well, to an extent.’
Chris narrowed his eyes at him briefly.
-
‘Which one should I wear?’ Louise asked as she held up two dresses she'd brought with her, one was black with short sleeves and a low-ish neckline. The other was a dark blue long sleeve dress, though it was knee length too.
‘Hmm. I think the black one.’ Claire decided on.
‘Black one it is.’ Louise nodded and pulled it on.
Claire rummaged through her wardrobe and decided on a plum-coloured dress, it was a low neckline as well though had half length sleeves and went down to just above her ankles.
‘The guys won’t know what to do with us, we are smoking.’ Louise giggled when they both stood together, looking in the mirror.
‘That’s the spirit!’ Claire cheered.
‘I can’t believe you have a vampire boyfriend and I’m away to go on a date with one… Just like we imagined when we were young.’ Louise laughed.
‘I know, dreams can come true.’ Claire smiled.
-
‘I can’t believe after searching for so many years, I’ve found my soulmate.’ Chris sighed as he and Loki had a quick drink before leaving.
‘I guess it sometimes just takes time.’ Loki shrugged.
‘Should I tell her that she’s my soulmate?’ Chris asked.
Loki hummed and tilted his head back and fore in thought. ‘Not sure. It’s down to you, really. I didn’t tell Claire for a while, because I didn’t want her to feel like she had to be with me. I wanted her to be with me because she wanted to.’
Chris nodded. ‘That makes sense. I’ll do the same, I think. I don’t want her to feel pressured into anything.’
Loki was rather surprised, yet pleased, at how Chris was being with the whole thing. He had half expected him to try and pounce on Louise, but he seemed to really care for her already. The instinct of wanting to look after and protect his soulmate had kicked in and was very strong.
‘Yeah, might need to wait a while before you get freaky in the bedroom. I remember some of the kinky shit you’re into, she’d run a mile.’ Loki teased.
Chris smirked. ‘Oh, don’t worry. I’ll wait until she’s on her knees begging me to take her.’
Loki face-palmed.
-
‘Chris might seem a bit rough around the edges, he is more… feral with his vampire instincts. Though he is a sweet guy to those he cares about, I really think he’ll be good for you.’ Claire told Louise.
‘You’re speaking as if it’s already a done deal that he will want to date me properly.’ Louise laughed.
‘Well…’ Claire almost spilled about being his soulmate, then thought again about it incase Chris didn’t want her to know just yet. ‘of course it’s a done deal, look at you! Plus, he will fall in love with your personality too once he gets to know you.’
‘Well, let’s just see how tonight goes.’ Louise smiled. ‘Oh, by the way. I’ve noticed bats hanging around my place lately… Is that Loki?’
Claire’s eyes widened slightly. ‘Ah… that… could be Chris. I know he followed your taxi home the night of Loki’s birthday, to make sure you got home safely. Loki did it with me too, he’d sometimes just come and check that everything was ok at my place.’
‘Really?’ Louise asked, eyes widening.
Claire got a little worried that she would freak out at that, but thankfully, that wasn’t the case.
‘That’s so sweet!’ She squealed like a giddy schoolgirl.
While Claire and Louise waited for Loki and Chris to come collect them, they had a couple of drinks downstairs.
‘I love that you guys have a vampire cat.’ Louise said with a smile as she stroked Bat, who was lying on the rug on front of the fire place.
‘She’s the best.’ Claire grinned.
Bat made a chirping noise in response, making Louise laugh. Bat then shot up and ran over towards the window, she jumped up onto the window ledge to look out of the window. She turned to look at the girls and meowed again.
‘Here’s our dates.’ Claire winked at Louise.
Louise was so excited to see Chris again, her stomach was in knots but she was more excited than nervous.
They grabbed their coats just as Loki opened the door.
‘My ladies… Your ride is here.’ He called with a big smile.
Claire giggled as they kissed, then they made their way down to the car. Chris got out and opened the back door for Louise, his heart began to race as she came closer. He noticed her cheeks turned pink again when she looked at him, unable to keep eye contact.
Her smell hit him like a brick, god she smelled so delectable to him.
Louise had forgotten just how tall and broad that Chris was, he was like a giant. Though the sweet smile on his face made her heart melt. She couldn’t get over how handsome he was.
‘You look stunning, Louise.’ Chris said when she reached him.
‘Thank you.’ She bushed even harder. ‘You look really handsome.’ She said shyly, making him smile widely.
Chris couldn’t resist picking up her hand and kissing the back of it again, she got the same tingling feeling as she did the last time. He then motioned to the car, Louise slipped into the back seat and Chris closed the door behind her. He practically jogged round to the other side of the car to get in the back seat with her.
Loki and Claire shook their heads with a smile. Loki opened the passenger door for Claire and helped her in.
‘Why thank you, kind sir.’ She grinned at him.
Loki winked at her as he closed the door, then walked round the car to get in the driver’s side. The plan was to drive to the restaurant, then they’d get a taxi back. He’d get his car tomorrow.
‘How are things going at the school? Claire was telling me about a couple of the students going a bit rogue this week and getting hurt?’ Louise asked Chris.
‘Yes, things are a little tense unfortunately. Some of the students just coming of age, getting used to their new instincts are struggling. I try to help them, to direct them in the right way’
Loki coughed at that. Chris clenched his jaw slightly and glared at the back of Loki’s head.
‘I try to direct them in a safe way to carry out their natural instincts, but these few decided they knew better and went off without guidance, getting themselves into a bit of trouble.’ He continued.
‘In what way are they in trouble?’ Louise asked curiously. She was fascinated with the vampire’s lives.
‘They’re trying to go after hunters, as there’s been a bit of an influx of them lately in the city. The students think they can take them on, getting their fill at the same time as doing good. But they’re too young and inexperienced, too hot-headed. One was badly injured the other night.’
‘Not like it’s the first bunch of hot-headed vampires we’ve had to deal with.’ Loki uttered.
‘Yes, thanks brother for your input.’ Chris growled at him.
Louise had to hold back a laugh, she found it quite amusing the way the brothers bickered. It had been the same at Loki’s party. Claire had filled her in about them both, a bit about their history together and how they both had different views of what was right and wrong.
She’d thought a lot about Chris and how he was known for feeding from innocent humans. Though she had decided that until he gave her a reason to be scared of him, she wouldn’t let that information cloud her judgement of him. At the end of the day, vampires were vastly different to humans, she knew that they needed blood to survive. They had to get it one way or another, and Chris was an original vampire, after all.
Claire had been quite surprised how accepting of him Louise had been when she filled her in.
‘It must be scary knowing there’s hunters about?’ Louise asked.
Loki and Claire nodded.
‘Nothing we can’t handle, they’re more an annoyance than anything.’ Chris said, slightly boasting.
Loki rolled his eyes.
When they arrived at the restaurant, Chris was ever the gentleman still, opening the door for Louise and pulling her chair out, then tucking it in for her. Loki did the same for Claire, not wanting to be upstaged by his brother.
Loki sat next to Claire, Louise was opposite Claire with Chris next to her. Louise noticed that Chris slid his chair slightly over so he was quite close to her, which made her heart feel fuzzy.
‘I bet I know what you’re going to get.’ Claire grinned at Louise.
Louise raised an eyebrow at her. ‘What?’
‘Spaghetti meatballs, that’s your favourite.’ Claire said confidently.
‘Oh.’ Louise laughed a little. ‘Actually, the salad looks quite good.’ She said quietly.
Claire frowned, she knew that Louise wasn’t fond of salad. Loki instinctively picked up on something when Claire gave him a look. So Loki dragged Chris up to the bar so they could order their drinks, then they’d go back to order the food once they’d decided on it.
‘Sis, you don’t need to worry about what you’re eating anymore. I know you don’t like salad.’ Claire said knowingly.
Louise let out a big breath and ran a hand down her face. ‘You’re right… I guess I just fell into old ways.’ She said quietly.
‘Chris isn’t like him. He won’t control what you eat, you can eat like a pig and Chris won’t care. Loki would kick his ass if he did, but he won’t. You should see the amount of food they end up eating. I swear Loki is trying to put weight on me, too. I’m heavier than I used to be.’ Claire laughed.
Louise laughed too. When the guys returned with drinks, they both noticed that Louise looked visibly more relaxed. She did end up going for meatballs and spaghetti.
‘Good choice. If it didn’t have garlic, I’d be going for that too.’ Chris said when she had decided.
‘Oh yeah, you guys can’t have garlic, can you?’ Louise asked.
‘We can, in small amounts. Though it does still cause stomach aches even on a small level.’ Chris explained.
‘Doesn’t stop Loki. He just stinks out the bathroom afterwards.’ Claire said as she pulled a face.
Louise laughed and Chris chuckled, Loki glared at Claire and squeezed her thigh under the table with a growl. ‘You’re so in trouble later.’
‘I sure hope so.’ Claire giggled.
The conversation between the four was kept light and fun. Chris and Loki bickered, like typical brothers. Even Claire and Louise had a few fun sisterly bickers together too, though not as harsh as the brothers.
When they were finished for the evening, Chris helped Louise with her coat and couldn’t resist letting his hands linger for a little on her shoulders, that she didn’t fail to notice.
She was staying the night at Loki and Claire’s, to save getting a taxi back home since she didn’t have work the following morning.
Chris said he would just fly home, to save a taxi going there and then to Loki’s. So they said their goodbyes outside.
‘Are you going to be around tomorrow morning?’ Louise asked, hopeful.
Chris’ face lit up at the fact she was hoping to see him more before heading home. He looked at Loki and Claire. ‘Well, if I’m invited, I wouldn’t say no to breakfast?’
‘Of course, you’re welcome.’ Claire nodded.
Loki sighed dramatically. ‘I suppose I could put on some extra bacon and sausages.’
‘I’ll see you tomorrow morning then.’ Chris grinned at Louise.
#tom hiddleston#loki#loki x ofc#loki fic#vampire loki#Chris Motionless#Chris Motionless x ofc#the redbridge hunts#eternally mine
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Kataang could have been developed more after The Invasion Kiss but on the other hand it is important that katara hugged him after the defeat and stood very proud next to him when he thanked everyone for participating. Then they were very chill sitting next to each other in the western air temple and even in sozins comet part 1 after their biggest fight so far they stood next to each other in their group hug and katara watched him training when zuko taught him how to redirect lightning. If aang was really such an incel or simp like people make him out she would try to avoid him at all costs but she didn't.
I agree with you, if Katara was at any point uncomfortable by Aang's advances...actually, the only two advances he has ever made at her, she would definitely distance herself from him, or, knowing Katara, would just talk to him. Of course even after the kiss at the invasion Katara is comfortable with Aang. It wasn’t even their first kiss, they canonically kissed in the cave of two lovers!
Don’t even get me started on the topic of people calling Aang an incel HOLY SHIT that is a different level of dumbassery, please. I don’t even know where it’s coming from. The way Aang kissed Katara in the invasion? Well let’s see, Sokka kissed Suki THE EXACT SAME WAY IN THE SERPENTS PASS AND NO ON EVER SAID ANYTHING ABOUT THAT. So please tell me, how the way Aang kissed Katara is any different from the way Sokka kissed Suki?
Plus people who call him an incel think he forced Katara to be with him, bothered her after she told him to stop multiple times. And please, what show are you people watching? Aang never lets Katara know he has feelings for her until the invasion episode!!! Where exactly is the forcing? Where exactly is Katara turning him down? Are you making stuff up?
The kiss in the cave was initiated by Katara, Aang didn't let her know of his feelings for her. If she knew he liked her, she wouldn’t be offended when Aang tells her he wouldn’t want to kiss her. She's offended because Aang makes her think he doesn't like her...why would that offend her if she herself didn't like him, and didn't want him to like her back?
The first time Aang EVER shows Katara he has feelings for her is halfway through the third season! And the only time Katara turns his advances down is in the last episode before the finale, after which we never even see them together. Aang totally backs off until she’s the one who kisses him in the finale.
The whole time Aang is pining for her secretly. He just has a crush on her, and even that is exaggerated by the haters. It's not like they don't have a relationship outside this crush. The crush is such a minor detail in their relationship. They have mutual respect, trust, they're each other's moral compass and biggest supporter. Aang's crush on Katara comes up in 13 episodes out of 61! I literally counted! And I counted every tiny thing like Aang blushing at Katara in City of Walls and Secrets, something that lasts 1 second. MOST of those crush moments are so tiny and have little to no impact, but even counting those, it only comes up to 13 episodes! And some of them don't even include Katara in them, like The Guru. So if the crush is not referenced or mentioned in 80% of the show, how exactly is Katara pressured or pursued constantly, to the point where she has to tell him to stop? Did the turning him down get lost somewhere between all the kisses on the cheek Katara gives him throughout the show?
Look, I would take all that criticism seriously, but literally anyone who ever said that is a ZK shipper. Which just makes it disingenuous, because they’re only saying all that stuff to prove their ship should've been canon...which in no way makes it canon anyway so what's the point for all this hate? I just don't get it for the life of me.
#atla#avatar: the last airbender#avatar the last airbender#avatar#aang#kataang#katara#pro kataang#anti zutara#anti-zutara
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thinkingg
about things
in the alt text with some notes
#apologies for my sense of fashion its all just layers and no trinkets 😭#too scared to lose them irl#anyways i dont have too much more thoughts about this aside from maybe lore adaptation changes and some#cool new shiny puffy winter jacket for gibby as a h1 era design choice in exchange for the astronaut suit#i thought about this taking place in a small town where gibby was ruling like a mayor or something and the crew was tired of it#or just a block with a yard inside and all of them act childish on a playground there#cannot choose between global and local here LOL i want them to explode the moon!! but at the same time NO!!!#theyre just a gang that hangs out sometimes in free time#thought about possible pongormas past here. i dont think its anything light#whats up with wayne what is he doing? uhhhh just existing i guess- maybe in the process of finding true passion or maybe following old#waynes directions? could be anything#up to you really if anyone wants to think about this as well. no pressure#hylics#hylics 2#somsnosa#dedusmuln#wayne hylics#decres hylics#pongorma#artstump#drawing art is patiently trying to find exact words for a coffee machine part on pinterst and getting mad at all coffee aesthetics and brew#ing tips and finding exact wording so it doesnt sound awkward. this trains me to write a fanfic at some point of unknown kind#maybe a coffee machine related one. im well versed on the subject now yessss -_- xD
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Shrub Club: episode 4
'Ah, if only I knew more people that could understand my love for chomping cabbages,' Meech sighs as he feeds one of his 'little' toothy friends.
This particular one grew to be the healthiest in the batch and the Gryffindor still insisted on giving it a little extra each meal. The temperature and humidity of the freshly built greenhouse are close to their Professor's classroom so Demetrius moved his chomps here as soon as he could. He was convinced that they would start biting Leander's ankles if Meech left them in his care for too long. Not that he doesn't trust his dormmate. But he knows his cabbages too well. Whatever the girls did with their charmwork, the cabbages thrived in their greenhouse.
Demetrius didn't realize at first that he talked about his love for cabbages out loud. He turns around to look at the other members of the Shrub Club with his typical frown. Anyone who has known him for long enough knows that he's not really frowning. That's just how his face is.
'That was... rhetorical,' he mumbles. 'How has the decorating been going? I assume everyone agrees with Wren's idea of a beautiful Hawthorne growing under the main dome?'
The Gryffindor doesn't want to sound sentimental when he brings up The Tree but the thought still makes him feel cozy inside. Meech has been expecting a beautiful sapling to arrive all morning today (his gramps pitched in) and now that they are all gathered here after classes he is uncharacteristically nervous. Meech continues.
'I couldn't find a way to get a tree in here that is already as big as on Wren's sketch but I... We got some help with a very powerful fertilizer from Professor Garlick. Our tree should grow in a matter of hours and we get a chance to shape the branches and prune it as it goes. If you guys... want to do it together?'
The flapping of the wings is heard from the outside and Meech hurries over to accept the long-awaited green guest.
'Ta-da,' the Gryffindor says a little awkwardly but surprisingly with a huge grin on his scared face and a delicate sapling in his hands.
@theodoradevlin @justaskmagnoliaellistor @ask-wren-zhang
#d. h.#hogwarts legacy rp#Shrub Club#Wren#Theodora#Magnolia#*Once again no pressure to rp at all!*#*Even a small note about how a character feels or what thinks in replies is more than I could hope for*#*I know Christmas season is a busy one*#*If anyone wants to use this opportunity to write about what our characters did in between - feel free to do so!*#*Same as control Meech to move things around if you wish as well*#*There's nothing he won't say no to*#*Or to time skip in any way if wish or to leave this rp without a reply! No pressure!*#*Let me know if I need to change things up or your character might have something to say/do that changes the events*#*Don't want to put anyone in strict frames so feel free to interject his words and actions*#*I know we never really talked about the tree so if there are any tree objections - tell us*#*Everyone has brooms so flying up at some problem should not be an issue for branch fixing*#*I was inspired today to write an rp post since new people joined the community*
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dropping thoughts like laundry into the aromanticism washing machine and watching them spin. taking little notes in a fancy journal titled "greyro??" and crossing them out, but then going back and scribbling an addendum. holding up an extravagant glass beaker full of a cool bubbling potion and peering at it through safety glasses that say "mind the amatonormativity!"
#i think there are two layers of questioning to deal with#the first layer is easier to see and that's the trauma-related layer#the second layer has been going stealth for years and is more intrinsic#the second layer *could* have been a contributing factor toward the first#so anyway the question is. as i work through the trauma and have the support of a therapist to deal with the first layer#does the second layer become an issue. or is there only the first and it's just worked itself deep enough that it now feels intrinsic#the thing is i do get crushes and i do yearn and i can't remember a time when i didn't crave the idea of a relationship#so that should be that right? not aro. at least not intrinsically.#but why did i always end up losing interest in the relationship once i had it#was it really just because i wasn't dating people i actively chose#honestly maybe. there *was* B. i don't know how much longer that might've continued if logistics hadn't put an end to it#and M....... M is a tricky one. because even though i left that relationship by my own choice. i kind of had to in order to not want to die#the thruple vibes with K were just so utterly rancid and M was just so incapable of doing anything to make it better#so yeah. maybe that one could've continued indefinitely IF two to three of the people involved had been#a leeeeetle more mature and well adjusted. maybe. but desire for a relationship was not the issue.#so okay. maybe im NOT aro. maybe i just have shitty taste in men. you know? that's a distinct possibility.#okay. so now on the other hand. let's look at how happy and enlightened I've felt since starting to *use* the aro label#cuz it actually is fantastic. the freedom to just feel love and affection for anyone I'm close to and not have to worry about#it being taken in a way i don't intend. that's great i love that#and not feeling any pressure to find The One? rocks. good shit. i can just let whatever relationships be what they're gonna be#and not have to fret over assigning a label and structures and expectations. hot shit.#(honestly it's helping me understand where M was coming from in a way that would've been. you know. pretty useful six years ago.)#i don't wanna lock myself in a relationship with friend E but it's great hanging out with her on a regular basis#cuz that's the amount of affection i feel for her. enough to chill and watch Owl House. not enough to be in each others' space all the time#(god idk if I'll ever want to be around anyone all the time ever again. that is a LOT for my limited batteries)#idk how physical affection fits into this yet. that area is still under development#but like. if my friends were cool with it and i knew they wouldn't take it too seriously then YES i would probably kiss almost any of them#and i THINK that's true and not me telling myself something i think I'm supposed to believe? i THINK.#'s always the possibility that i just very badly want to be kissed and my brain is looking to make that happen in a way that isn't scary#ah shit that’s 30 tags. i’ve done it again.
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the thing is you start out making jokes about diabolik just being a silly little guy with 1 facial expression and 0 emotions and then months later here you are having genuine emotions about diabolik's backstory
#the thing about house of stone is. thats just a child. and i do want to cry about it thanks#everything about that fic i largely made up but like! thats a child. and they didnt even name him he doesnt have a name.#n like. do you ever wonder what you could've been if you'd been found by anyone else. or if the ship had never been wrecked.#did you ever dream of being someone or something else. how old were you when you realised that wasn't going to happen#like i dont think he doesnt LIKE being a thief. this isnt a wah my parents pressured me into this kind of thing#he's good at it. he wouldn't want to do anything else. but how much of that is genuine on his part and how much is because he was never#raised to be anything else. if you never had another option was it really a choice. same with his general solitude i think#like yes he kills people he works with n he does have meaningful relationships before eva but none of them are as his whole self#neon has thoughts#anyway when i finally finish my actual long-ish diabolik fic. well#n part 2 house of stone. theres so much to unpack there
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Girl back home
Pairing: Logan Sargeant x wife!reader
Warnings: cursing (I think)
Authors note: this took forever, but now I can actually work on whiv now that I’ve finished this
Summary: Everyone keeps trying to set Logan up, but no one bothers to ask if he's already got a girl (surprise! he does!)
Word Count: 4.2k (jesus)
“What about her? she’s pretty,” Alex asks as he points at the five hundredth model to walk past the Williams garage that day.
If it hadn’t been his home race, Logan might have walked away an hour ago when Alex’s pointing started but instead, he stayed, choosing to endure Alex’s unrelenting matchmaking.
“No, Alex. I’ve already said no to about 50 other girls you’ve pointed out, what makes you think she’d be different,” Logan groans, his head leaning back to rest against the wall behind them.
Alex purses his lips, a frown on his face, “Why won’t you let me get you a girlfriend?”
Logan pauses to stare at the ceiling of the garage for a second before he turns his head to face the man next to him, “I don’t need a girlfriend.”
“Yeah sure man, I’ve seen you stare quietly at a wall by yourself more times than you’d probably admit. If that doesn’t scream “I need a girlfriend” then I don’t know what does,” Alex shrugs before turning back to face away from his friend, his hand coming back up to point at a pretty-faced blonde girl making her way past the garage, even smiling when she locks eyes with Logan, “Ooh what about her? She seems to like you!”
Logan just hums in response, his eyes closing as he leaves Alex to talk to himself.
In reality, Logan truly didn’t need a girlfriend. He had something even better, a wife. Who also happened to be you. You had met when you were kids and had been in love ever since. You liked to joke that it was love at first sight but every time you said it, Logan would wonder how much of a joke it really was.
You had been there for every step in his career, through the wins and the losses, through karting to Formula racing. So when he proposed after the end of the f3 season in 2020, no one close to you was really surprised.
You got married shortly after, neither one of you wanting a big, flashy wedding. Instead, the wedding was small but still nice, just some close friends and family in attendance. Even Oscar had been there and he made sure to reference the event to everyone who wouldn’t understand when around Logan. He loved to talk about the “party” Logan had in 2020 to the other drivers who, frankly, had no idea what he meant.
When he got his move to Formula One, you were over the moon for him. You didn’t worry about long-distance. You had made it work in the past and you both had total confidence in each other to make it work. You continued your degree in engineering and he continued his career in racing. You tried to make it to races when school would let you, which wasn’t often, and he was more than happy to fly you out when he could.
Logan genuinely loved you more than anything. With that being said, this meant that he did not have the time of day for anyone trying to set him up with the Instagram model of the week who had decided to visit a garage.
But at the same time, he also didn’t feel the pressure to share your marriage with anyone. He didn’t really know any of the other drivers very well and if they wanted to know more about him, they could ask. It’s just that no one ever did.
Except, it seems, when they wanted to set him up.
“Hey, Logan!” A British voice calls out to the American, whose head shoots up at the uncommon voice.
“What’s up, mate?” The blonde asks Lando, pocketing the phone where he had just been texting you to ask about your engineering final.
Lando grins and places a hand on the American's shoulder, raising his voice to be heard above the sounds of the paddock, “I was talking to Oscar and he mentioned something about your love life and something about you being lonely, I don’t really remember what he said but anyway, I’m talking to this girl and she has this friend who I think would be perfect for you.”
Logan’s face drops at the brunette's words, a frown replacing his smile, “I’m cool Lando, thanks though.”
Lando furrows his eyebrows, disbelief written on his features, “You sure, mate? She’s sooooo fine.”
Logan just nods his head in response, backing away from the McLaren driver slowly, “Yeah I’m sure Lando, you have fun thinking about your girlfriend’s friend though.”
Lando doesn’t seem to catch the diss as he just glances up and down at Logan before shaking his head and turning on his heel to head back to his garage. Logan sighs before taking his phone back out of his pocket to see another text from you. A grin breaks out on his face as he sees your name.
Logan hadn’t talked to very many of the drivers on the grid, often feeling on the outs of a lot of conversations. So he’s even more surprised to see Charles Leclerc making his way toward him at a club. A club he had only agreed to come to so he coule be Oscar's designated driver, by the way.
“Eyyy, it’s the American!” Charles says, the alcohol clearly present in his voice. The lights are too dimmed but if they were brighter, Logan would be able to see the lipstick smudges around his white collar.
“Hey, Charles,” Logan replies, scepticism laced in his voice. The Monegasque leans closer to him, the drink in his hand sloshing around in the cup.
“I have something to tell you,” Charles slurs a bit, leaning dangerously before a pretty brunette comes up and grabs him, based on her lipstick shade compared to Charles’ shirt, she had already been more than acquaintances with him before this conversation.
Logan glances at the pair before responding dryly, “Oh no.”
Charles grins before pointing back to where he had come from, a dark-haired girl sitting at the table, “That’s Natalie.”
“Navaeh,” the brunette pipes up to correct Charles as he nods in response.
“Yeah, Nivia. Anyway, she’s a friend of mine and she’s been eyeing you all night, thought you’d want her number.”
Logan rolls his eyes at the very clearly drunk couple in front of him, increasing his headache from the pounding EDM, “What an assumption there Charles. I’m actually good though.”
“What?” Charles asks, squinting to see the blonde under the club lights.
“No thanks,” Logan smiles tightly before moving to step around the couple and probably tell Oscar that either they were both leaving or Oscar was getting an Uber, “You guys have a good night though.”
The couple is already too busy sucking face to realize he’s left.
“I just don’t understand why they keep trying to set me up, I’m perfectly happy with you,” Logan complains to you over the phone a few nights later.
You were sat in your dorm, engineering work strewn across your desk and your roommate at a party somewhere. You were trying to get as much work done as possible before Logan came to Austin for the GP so you could spend the weekend with him.
“I mean, have you told them you’re married?” You ask, trying to stifle a yawn as your hand moves to write down the equation for the problem in front of you.
Logan shakes his head, the movement almost imperceptible through the small phone screen, “Nah, but it’s just that no one’s asked you know? I’m just waiting for someone to say “Hey Logan, you got a girl back home?” Before they try and set me up with some Instagram model they know.”
You smile softly as he talks, his hands moving to mess with his blond hair periodically. He eventually looks back to the screen once he’s done ranting and is met with your smiling face filling his phone screen, “What?”
“I love you,” you say warmly, your grin practically splitting your face.
Logan blushes before laughing and shaking his head to hide the redness on his face, “I love you too. I’ll see you next week yeah?”
You look down at the now-completed homework in front of you. Homework that could’ve taken about 2 fewer hours if you weren’t on call.
“Yeah I’m done with this. I’ll turn it into my professor tomorrow and after that I am free. When do you get in?” You ask, shuffling the papers together and sliding them into your bag before moving out of your chair and flopping onto your bunk, sleep clouding your eyes.
“Uhh,” Logan pauses, glancing at his suitcase. In reality, he was supposed to get in twenty two hours and six minutes from when he hung up the call, his flight leaving in three hours and arriving in Austin after a 16 hour flight and a 2 hour layover in DFW followed by an hour long flight to Austin. He would effectively be arriving about a week before any of the other drivers. Besides maybe Daniel. But he couldn’t say any of that. He wanted to surprise you, especially now that you had no work to do. So instead he just hums, “Next week I think.”
“That’s great, babe,” you yawn, a small smile on your lips at the idea of him being back with you again, “I can’t wait to see you.”
“Yeah?” Logan grins.
You hum, your eyes drifting closed slightly, “Yeah.”
Logan notices your less-than-awake state and finally decides to end the call, “Goodnight, I love you.”
You yawn again, your eyes fluttering shut, “Good morning Logan, I love you too.”
The call ends quickly after and Logan glances at the time, grinning when he sees the 8:24 am displayed on his phone screen. You’d both had to deal with the difference in time zones for so long, you probably had all the time zones memorized. Or at least you remembered enough to call out good morning instead of goodnight while he was in Qatar.
His flight touches down twenty-two hours later and the first thing he does is call you.
“Hey what's up?” It's about 10:30 in Austin and the only thing you were doing was picking up barbeque from this place on the edge of campus that your roommate had been raving about.
“Not much, just bored,” Logan replies, his eyes scanning the background of the face time call for where you could possibly be this late.
You glance down at your phone for a second to do the same, eyebrows furrowing, “Where are you? It looks dark.”
Logan glances around slightly before replying, “In a car,” he wasn't lying, he really was in a car. Just one that was ubering to your campus instead of one with his team in Qatar, “Where are you? It's like 10 pm over there.”
“Just picking up some food,” you reply, eyes looking over the moonlit sidewalk that threads through the well-kept grass that surrounds you.
“This late?”
You laugh, “I slept through dinner.”
Logan smiles before sliding forward slightly when the car stops, “Are you just going back to your dorm?”
You look around quickly, “Yeah it's like a quarter mile back though.” You tighten your grip on the bag in your hand, the plastic having started to slip. Maybe your Ugg slides hadn't been the best choice for this walk but you'd manage.
“Oh yeah I know where you are, I remember eating at that place last time I was there,” Logan pulls his suitcase out of the trunk and tips the driver, checking periodically to make sure you hadn't clocked him.
“Yeah yeah, really good stuff and the owner remembered me today, guess I've been there enough times,” You laugh, starting to move back in the direction of your dorm once again.
By the time you had stopped to readjust the bag of food and your shoes, Logan had already started to speedwalk in the direction of your dorm. As he walks he passes enough drunk college kids to fill the football stadium they had all visited so many times.
You're walking pretty slowly, enjoying the moonlight shining brightly on the campus. Your shoes definitely weren't making you any faster to be fair.
“You turn your assignment in?” Logan asks, hoping you don't notice his eyes darting around the campus in search of you.
You nod, reaching a hand up to rub at your sleepy eyes, “Yeah, he even gave me extra credit for turning it in so early.”
Logan nods absentmindedly and you raise an eyebrow as you watch him do it before his eyes lock on something and he abruptly ends the call, “I've got to go, love you!”
You stand staring at your phone with a confused look on your face for a moment, words dying on the tip of your tongue. Weird.
You shake your head before moving to walk again, Logan's weird actions at the forefront of your mind.
Before you can even take a step, someone calls out your name and you turn quickly to see Logan standing there with the biggest grin on his face.
You gasp and wrap him in a bone-crushing hug warmth spreading through you from his arms. You move to spread kisses all across his face and for a few minutes, you both just stand there, not having seen each other in a few months and taking the time to readjust.
“I missed you,” you mumble into his shoulder, unexpected tears starting to spring from your eyes.
He just sets you down before wrapping a hand around the side of your face, “I missed you too.”
You bring a sweater-clad hand up to wipe away a tear before grabbing the food in one hand and grabbing his hand in the other, starting to lead him back to your dorm.
He grabs his suitcase as you start moving, “Is your roommate here?”
“No, you know how she is. She'll be with her new boyfriend for a few weeks so we're fine,” you wave away his question as you walk toward the building a few hundred feet away.
He smiles in response, “Hope you got enough food for two.”
You just laugh joyously.
A week and a half later, you’re stood in the hotel room Logan’s team had provided him, the room much nicer than your cramped dorm room. You had spent the last 12 days exploring Austin with your husband, making up for the time spent away from each other.
You had accidentally slept through Logan’s departure for the morning, waking up to a text explaining that, with your busy class schedule, he wanted you to get as many days of sleeping in as possible but he had gotten you breakfast and it was currently sitting in the kitchen.
You smiled at the text, appreciating Logan’s thoughtfulness. In the kitchen was a coffee from your favourite coffee shop as well as a McGriddle from McDonalds, which, no doubt, hurt Logan to order considering he wasn’t allowed to eat them.
You quickly ate the food, texting Logan to thank him. He texts back surprisingly quickly, considering he was supposed to be in a meeting.
He filled you in on how his morning had gone before asking when you’d get to the paddock for the race. You replied that you’d be there soon, quickly sliding on a light jacket over your tank top and jean shorts, preparing for the Austin heat.
Considering you had never been in the COTA paddock before, you would rather be in any situation other than your current one. There were about three hours until the race and you had no idea where the Williams garage was. You had gotten in just fine but, for some reason, you couldn’t find the blue of the Williams employees anywhere.
Logan wasn’t answering his phone, which you expected considering he had already been reprimanded for being on his phone during a meeting once this morning. Now you were left by yourself, trying to navigate the busy paddock.
You were somehow in a sea of orange, eyebrows furrowed. You turn in a quick circle, eyes setting on a curly-haired man in an orange polo who you take a few quick steps towards, hoping he can help you with directions.
“Excuse me,” you call out to the man who turns around swiftly, eyes pulling across your figure before landing on your face.
“How can I help you, love?” The man replies, a British accent laced through his voice and a sharp grin on his rosy lips.
You glance around slightly, leaning away from the man’s hungry gaze, “Do you know where the Williams garage is?”
He nods his head but keeps his eyes locked on your face, his smirk unfaltering, “Yeah, yeah, it’s just down that way.”
He points to nowhere in particular, moving to lean against the wall you’re standing near, “What’s your name, darling?”
You have to hide the smirk that tries to escape you at the fact that this man clearly has no idea you were married and also clearly thought you’d be an easy girl to flirt with considering his unwavering confidence.
You tell him your name and a grin breaks out on his face, “Pretty name, I’m Lando.”
Ah, so this was Lando. You had only ever seen him with his helmet on and from what you heard from Logan, his current behaviour made perfect sense. Logan hadn’t talked a lot about the Brit but he had mentioned him a few times considering he was Oscars teammate.
You hum, glancing around amusedly around the garage. You and Lando talk for a few more moments before a shorter figure clasps a hand on his shoulder. You lock eyes with the newcomer, grinning when you see a familiar boy standing behind Lando.
"Hey Osc," You smile at the Aussie. Oscar glances sideways at Lando, eyes shifting across his face before they turn to you. You just smile sweetly at the man who reciprocates the grin back at you.
"Hey," Lando glances confusedly between the two of you at Oscar's response. When Lando's confusion goes on a bit too long, Oscar turns and swings an arm around your shoulder, effectively moving the both of you away from the still-confused McLaren driver.
"I assume you're looking for Williams, then?" Oscar asks, running his free hand through his hair which had already begun to stick to his forehead from the Austin heat.
You hum in affirmation, sliding your sunglasses down your nose as the two of you step into the sun to make your way to your husband's garage.
Oscar makes conversation as he pulls you along, talking to you about how his season had gone and also asking a lot of questions about your engineering classes.
“I’d do a video for you, shock all your classmates,” Oscar says when you tell him you had to do a presentation explaining the engineering behind a piece of machinery and you had chosen a Formula 1 car.
You laugh, shaking your head as you do, “Yeah? I'd take you up on that, but I have a driver who'd be much easier to get a video from.”
Oscar snorts, smiling as you reach the Williams garage, “Lando?”
You roll your eyes as the name leaves his lips, hitting the back of his head with the small bag in your hands, “Don't get me started on Lando. You know he tried to set Logan up with one of his friends?”
Oscar furrows his eyebrows, “What?”
“Yeah, Lando said you told him Logan’s love life was lonely or something like that,” You reply, glancing around passively in search of your husband.
Oscar somehow manages to furrow his eyebrows even deeper, mouth opening and closing in disbelief, “That’s not what I said at all.”
“Tell him that.”
You both walk into the garage after that, you move to make conversation with Benny who’s sat to the side, surprise crossing his face as he sees you.
Oscar, though, spots Logan and makes his way to him quickly. He clasps a hand on the blonde's back who turns to face him with a grin, “What’s up Osc?”
“Lando was flirting with your wife,” Oscar states flatly, trying to push down the grin on his face.
Logan blinks a few times in an attempt to understand what the Aussie just said, “What- why?”
“Don’t think he knew she was your wife, mate.”
Logan rolls his eyes before turning around slightly to resume his conversation with his engineer. He stops mid-turn and swings back around to Oscar quickly, eyes wide, “My wife’s here?”
Oscar laughs at the American's face, stepping out of his line of sight so he can see you conversing with Benny.
Logan grins, sliding past the other boy to step toward you as quick as he can, wrapping his arms around you from behind. Oscar can’t hear what you two say to each other but he can see the love painting your faces as Logan plants a kiss on the top of your head. Benny smiles at the two of you, walking away to let you two talk.
As Oscar leaves the Williams garage, he briefly debates telling Lando you were married, especially to Logan, but he eventually decides not to. He’d figure it out eventually. Also might help to have him learn the hard way.
You sat in the garage for the entire race. But when Logan ends the race in eight, you’re jumping up happily to follow the Williams employee guiding you to where he’ll be.
The moment he’s done being weighed, he runs over to you, pulling his helmet off and unzipping his suit to his hips.
He grasps the side of your face, pulling you to him as he kisses you softly. He pulls away slightly and rests his forehead against yours, lifting a hand to grab the one you have against the side of his face, fingers brushing over your wedding ring.
“Thank you for being here. I love you.”
You can’t help the lovely laugh that escapes you, throwing your head back a bit to escape the heat rising on your cheeks, “I love you too, dork. I’m so proud of you.”
He smiles before leaning to catch you in another kiss.
Lando had finished the race in 4th. Not bad considering who had finished in front of him. He’d already talked to his team so he was now just roaming around, looking for someone to talk to.
He locks eyes on you and takes a few steps toward you before someone comes running past him. He looks over to see Logan grasping your face in his hands before pulling you down into a kiss.
He can’t help but stand in shock for a few moments although he can sense a couple people walking up next to him. He glances beside him to see Charles and Alex, both also staring at Logan in disbelief.
“What the hell?” Lando asks, to no one in particular. Luckily, or unfortunately, for him, someone has an answer.
“Are you lot staring at Logan and his wife?” Lando doesn’t look over to catch the amused look on Oscar’s face as he asks the question. But Alex does, and he furrows his eyebrows at the younger man.
“Sorry?” Alex asks the Aussie who just smiles and turns back to the couple, still smiling in each other's embrace.
Charles is the first one to notice anything and he smacks the other two on the head when he does, “They’re both wearing wedding rings.”
Alex blinks for a second, caught in the strange reality that he hadn’t noticed his teammate wearing a wedding ring the whole season. He pulls out his phone to go through old photos and low-and-behold, Logan’s wearing a ring in every single one.
“Jesus Christ,” Lando mumbles, running a hand through his damp curls, “I flirted with her.”
“Yeah,” Oscar nods, hands on his hips, “I probably wouldn’t talk to Logan for a while if I were you. Unless you want to find out how they do it in Florida.”
Lando gulps at the boy's words, of course, having no idea how they “do it” in Florida but only assuming he’d end up with a black eye. Oscar has to stifle a laugh, knowing Logan would most likely just laugh it off if Lando genuinely apologized. Not that Lando would.
Oscar's eyes drift across the trio of confused drivers, most likely all going through their memories of the times they had tried to set Logan up.
“You told me he was lonely,” Lando finally whines out, turning back to Oscar who shakes his head.
“I told you he was lonely because his girlfriend couldn’t make it to any of the races. If you would listen, you would’ve heard that part.”
Lando has no defence to that and turns his head back again to watch as Logan laughs at something you said, fingers intertwined together.
When the news spread across the paddock the next day, Logan received a lot of incredulous texts from drivers and employees alike, all shocked that he was in a relationship, let alone married.
Logan didn’t read any of them, he was too busy hanging out with you.
Except, of course, the message from Oscar that included three specific drivers all with their eyes wide as they stared at him and you.
——————————————————
Tags: @casperlikej @evie-119
#scheduled#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#f1 imagine#f1 x female reader#f1 x reader#f1 x y/n#f1 x you#f1 smau#logan sargeant x fem!reader#logan sargeant x you#logan sargent x reader#logan sargeant x reader
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𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), fem!nanny!reader, married!toji ( rich toji too lmao hot take ), age gap, noncon, dacryphilia, virginity loss, heavy breeding kink, bondage, all characters featured are aged 18+
𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ please reblog && leave feedback. not proofread so there’s probably mistakes. thanks for reading < 3
𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗸𝘁𝗼𝗯𝗲𝗿 𝟮𝟬𝟮𝟯 ∣ day twenty-two [ toji fushiguro + breeding ]
you probably should’ve kept your mouth shut. you should’ve bit the bullet and swallowed your pride when Toji said he couldn’t pay you any earlier than Friday for babysitting the kids. no, couldn’t had not been his word of choice. he wouldn’t pay you before Friday. Toji was loaded with cash. you’d never bothered to ask him how he made his living, but you knew that he had plenty and his massive mansion would not be snatched up by the bank if the prick gave you your well earned three hundred and twenty dollars on a Wednesday instead of a Friday.
and you’d told him so.
which had landed you in the position you’re in now.
on a few occasions, Toji or his wife had asked you to tidy up around the house and that included their bedroom. the room was massive and luxurious, with a king size bed in the center of the room. you’d seen plenty of oddities in there— handcuffs here, a flogger there, vibrators in the drawers and even a black, pleather bench with seatbelt-like straps hanging off it in the corner— but you never thought, in all the time you’ve worked for them, that you’d find yourself on your back in nothing but your bra and panties ( which were both pulled askew to expose your breasts and give him access to your core ) against the mattress, with thick, black straps on your ankles that bind them to a long, silver bar. your legs are spread wide for Toji, he has also fastened similar cuffs to each of your wrists to separate notches on the pole. his fist is wrapped around the center of the metal, gripping it tight. he seems to use it as a lever, pulling your entire body to his.
the tears are far from dried on your cheeks, though the majority of the pain from the initial insertion has dissipated, Toji is none too gentle as he ruts into you. your walls flutter about the girth of his manhood as it stretches you to a capacity you’ve never felt before. he was so big, much too big for him to have been your first, and you felt like he was ripping you apart, especially because he had no regard for how deep he was delving into you— each thrust of his hips sent him hilt-deep into a newly devirginized interior. because of this, your face remained twisted into an expression of discomfort, eyes wide with shock.
Toji chuckles through grit teeth, “What’s with the crocodile tears, slut? Wasn’t expecting I’d pop your cherry? Daddy’s cock too big for that itty, bitty belly of yours?” his dark pair coruscate in the dim lighting as his gaze travels over your stomach, pressing his free palm against the lump just below your navel, the size and shape of his cock. you mewl, head rolling about on the mattress, and your teeth sink into your lower lip; the pressure adds to the sensation of being stuffed full. “Ooh, listen to you whine for me,” he croons with faux sympathy, poking out his lower lip. “I’ll bet you’re used to getting exactly what you want with those puppy dog eyes, aren’t you? But, I gotta tell you, baby girl, daddy’s made more girls cry than just you. You really think those little sniffles are gonna work on me? Make me go easier on you?”
his hips grind into yours as he digs as deep as possible without his thick tip bursting through your belly button ( or, at least, that’s what it feels like ), and you cry out, back arching. your fingernails claw at the restraints, arms tensed unable to do much but sting.
“Ah!” it’s more a bestial growl than a sound of pleasure you’d expect anyone to make, his eyes fiery with even more desire at your wriggling. “See, feel that? How your pussy tremors when she’s gripping my cock? You can glare up at me with those cute, puffy eyes and your makeup streaked down your cheeks, but I can tell by the way that little pussy hugs me that you don’t want it gentle. You don’t want me to be nice. You want to be fucked into submission, and daddy’s more than willing to break that bad fuckin’ habit of talking back to me with my cock.”
it was almost impossible to formulate a coherent sentence, batting tears back, but they fall anyways, squirming as if to escape the cocktail of pleasure and pain, and you turn away from him, angling your countenance towards the wall instead. “W—what— what if I t-told your, ah! Your wife about this—“
the most wicked of grins contorts Toji’s lips, and he reaches through the bar and between your arms to grip your face, turning it back to force you to look up at him. “You think she doesn’t know, girl? I’ve only been planning to breed your little body since you started working for us. I just needed a good excuse to break you in, thanks for that.” he pauses, to groan and close his eyes, pace picking up as his hips begin to buck more erratically. “She thinks you’ll make a better baby factory than she ever could, and she’s more than willing to let me keep you here and fuckin’ ruin you until the only thing you want is for me to swell that little tummy with my bastards—“ even as your whimpering escalated into screams, you can hear him. your eyes close, head wanting to angle away from his grip, his palm makes contact with your cheek in a couple, quick slaps. “You can get used to being my little breed-whore, sweet girl. And don’t you worry, you’re gonna get a nice raise every time I knock you up; as long as you learn that your place is wrapped around daddy’s cock, and that pussy is for him to fill with his loads, you’re gonna be a fine new addition to this family.”
#toji fushiguro x you#toji fic#toji fushiguro smut#toji fushiguro x reader#toji x you#toji smut#jujutsu toji#toji fushiguro#toji x reader#jjk toji#toji zenin#jujutsu kaisen toji#dilf toji#jjk#jjk imagine#jjk x you#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen
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hobie brown x shy/quiet!reader headcanons
spider-punk x reader this is not a drill
long as hell I’m so sorry
a/n: reader is mentioned as being a mom friend but imo that can be gender neutral so this can still be read by anyone!! if that makes you uncomfortable though please skip this post :)
I also imagine hobie as being 19-ish so it’s kinda implied reader lives alone but can def be read as younger!!
most people didn’t notice you at first.
you were quiet; really quiet. you’d mumble your thank you’s, whisper apologies, and generally go out of your way not to interact with people as a whole.
I feel like that gentleness/softness would almost draw hobie to you though?
he’d definitely first meet you as spider-man; saving you from some sort of robber or attacker. and then he’d see you be so shy about thanking him and apologizing as if it was your fault??? he finds it sweet but also kinda concerning for you tbh
and over time he begins to notice you more and more during his patrols; something about you just draws him in.
he definitely likes that you don’t try to tell him or others what to do lol
after talking to you enough as spider-man, and you start to open up, he begins to like you even more
you listen to some of the music he likes? your humour?? not to mention how genuine you are???
(also very useful if you happen to be a “mom friend” type who keeps first aid, candy, etc on you at all times!! he’d definitely appreciate a lollipop to help with the pressure changes while swinging around or a bandage for his cuts)
speaking of which if you ARE the type to have those things on you he may start seeking you out if/when he gets hurt
and after that even when he’s not tbh he’ll just pretend to have a headache and eat some of your candy on your couch lmao-
one time though he comes with wounds a little too serious looking for the standard wet cloth and bandaid treatment you had been used to; and it scares you
you raise your voice a bit louder than he’d ever heard, in a scared tone that was different than your normal anxious voice, and you tell him he should probably definitely go to a hospital
“but I like you so much better” he leans in a little too close, holding on to you a little too tight to keep himself steady, and you suddenly realize the reality of you situation
spider-man is in your living room. he’s bleeding a lot. and you’re the first person he thought to come to; because he likes you? not like that obviously- unless it is like that? NO. people barely even notice you, no one would ever feel like that type of thing for-
“you’re staring” you can feel the shit eating grin on his face; it’s practically burning through his mask
you stutter out an apology and after stammering around for a moment you get him to sit down and do your best to treat his injuries
you can tell the disinfectant stings by the way he flinches whenever you apply it, as well as his teasing that he “thought you were supposed to be nicer than the nurses” but he does his best to sit still and let you dress all of his wounds
you both remain still for a moment, and you think you can feel his eyes on you but you’re too scared to look up. your hands are shaking; they have been this whole time.
“that’s everywhere right? I didn’t miss something?”
he takes off his mask to look you in the eye and tell you he’s okay but you’re just like ????
:O
ANYWAYS you are once again staring bc you now know spider-man’s identity???
I feel like he’s gently hold your face and just give you a quick peck to make sure he wasn’t crossing any boundaries
but if you kiss him back? he’s NEVER stopping
he’ll start randomly crawling through your window with excuses of missing you or wanting to show you something
and soon he’s staying the night at your place or he’s swinging you over to his so you can stay with him
I think dates would definitely be super chill and more like hanging out at each others places than anything else
but if he does a show for his music he’d definitely want you there!!
he’d also probably pick you up and start swinging around the city with no warning just for the way you’ll grab on to him so tightly-
but ofc is you asked him not to he’d stop immediately!
doesn’t get super jealous or anything, he’s a pretty chill guy, but he will get sorta bothered if someone’s aggressively pursuing you even after knowing you two are together
like if someone doesn’t know and flirts with you he’s just like “yeah I’m lucky”
but if someone ever went so far to imply you should be unfaithful and/or should leave him he’d probably tell them to back off and either leave with you or put his arm around your shoulder and glare at them until they leave
either way he’s not starting any fights or anything though; he’s super comfortable in your relationship and hopes you are too
genuinely thinks you’re the most beautiful/handsome person ever like he WILL flex to the other spider-people if relationships come up
he’s really not in to pda though; he’ll put his arm around your shoulders/waist but that’s it. maybe hand holding depending on the situation.
but when you guys are alone he likes physical touch; don’t expect to be on top of each other or anything but having your/his head rested on the others lap or him just resting his hand on your leg is pretty common
he’s also not very big into gifts (he doesn’t buy into the capitalist need for abundance and all that) but he does like giving you jewellery/other wearable items bc he likes to see a reminder of himself/your relationship on you
pls make him a bracelet or something he’ll literally never take it off (also jewellery for any of his piercings is fair game)
he values small intimate things in a relationship; like painting each others nails, listening to each other rant about things you’re passionate about, etc
overall he may not be big and showy but he’s an amazing boyfriend and would love you like a lot
he’d also definitely write songs about/for you bc you’re so important to him and he wants the whole world to know that :((
I haven’t written fanfiction in forever but if anyone has any hobie requests I could write as headcanons I’m open to them!! :)
#not proofread#hobie brown#hobie brown x reader#spider punk#spider punk x reader#across the spiderverse#marvel#hobie brown x you
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Well it's come up multiple times today so I'll make a post about it.
I think the popularization of the word "twink" has ultimately been really bad for people in general.
I know it's hard to track the positive and negative effects of language but I don't think it's hard to see how creating a word for a group of people wherein the most consistent qualifying trait is "being skinny" is healthy for people's self image. Obviously people have lots of ideas about what it means to be a twink- gay, lacking body hair, feminine, beautiful, young, white- but the most consistent descriptor I've seen is "skinny." Hell, it's even a body type on Grindr; the size below "average."
So it kind of functions as a code word in the gay community: anyone can say that they're only interested in twinks and they don't have to look shallow by saying they only like skinny guys. It's such an accepted attitude that no one really bats an eye when they hear it.
I'm not even going to get into how it's become part of the larger issue of people turning "top" and "bottom" into gender roles 2.0, but that is closely related, because people with any internalized homophobia can look at a skinny, feminine man and turn off their fag alarms by viewing him as a woman or not a "real" man, and it makes twinks more acceptable to society at large.
No, ignoring all of that, one of the biggest issues is that gay men are taught by society that they are only attractive while they are skinny. Just having the label "twink" reminds a boy that people are looking at his body and judging it. There were countless times when I was growing up that people would tell me, "You're such a twink," or argue about whether or not I qualified as a twink because I had body hair. People around you, unpromted, judge your body and give you a label based on it, and that label has a large influence on whether or not you're seen as objectively attractive. I know many other gay people who say they wish they were a twink so they could be more attractive to guys.
So think, you have all these kids growing up being told whether or not they qualify as a twink, and then we have the gay community as a whole where it's completely acceptable to say you're only attracted to twinks. I think its because of all of this pressure to be a twink (in other words, to have a below average weight) that many of the gay people that I interact with struggle with a negative body image or eating disorders.
I mean, people talk about "twink death" like it's an actual event that makes a gay man much less attractive, and no one thinks that, maybe, it's harmful to tell a guy that the very day he stops being young and thin and pretty, he will stop being attractive and celebrated?
I'm not qualified to speak on fatphobia in physical queer spaces because I don't have the ability to frequent them where I live, but I can't imagine that these aren't issues at social gatherings as well. I also can't speak on my own experiences with weight discrimination because so far in my life I have had a naturally thin body, but I have experienced a lot of outside pressure to be thin that have caused me to pick up unhealthy eating habits to reduce my weight in fear that I could become fat later on. Thankfully that is something that I've mostly been able to work past. I'm not an expert, but idk, I just wanted to rant on my silly tumblr blog.
Obviously it's impossible for a word to be inherently bad. I'm not trying to imply that saying "twink" is a magic word with evil powers. Obviously the real issues at play here are fatphobia and harmful beauty standards and body shaming. But in my opinion, the popular use of the word twink has made it much easier and acceptable to express fatphobia, etc, in the gay community by turning "skinny person" into a "type of guy that you should try to be so you can be attractive."
#i know i sound annoying and woke but this is my blog and i can post whatever i want :3#theres so much more to say but this is long enough as it is#no ones gonna read this anyway#gay#queer issues#fatphobia#cw ed mention
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Steve has asked to see Eddie in the hospital four times over the past week, and each time Wayne says no. He’s not mean about it, more like perplexed, and increasingly annoyed.
When Steve tries to sneak in when Wayne’s not there, a nurse kicks him out, kindly at first, and then with a threat to call security. He’s not family, and Wayne hasn’t left permission for him to be there.
Steve doesn’t think anyone’s being intentionally cruel, he’s just a teenager who happened to meet Eddie a week ago, he doesn’t have any right to see him. But he did carry him out of hell, and he would really like to see how he’s doing.
Steve’s got injuries of his own, and his head hasn’t stopped throbbing in days, and he hasn’t been sleeping much. But he still wants to see Eddie. Needs to see him. Because sometime in that handful of moments fighting monsters together, he thinks he fell in love.
This seems crazy, he knows that. People don’t fall in love so quickly, not normal people. The fact that Eddie is a guy makes it all a little out of left field, he knows that too. But Steve’s miles past exhausted, and sore with aching, and somehow the thing his brain has latched on to, that will make things just a little bit better, is if he can see Eddie and make sure he’s okay.
Because he’s pretty sure that Eddie feels the same. He can’t be positive – it was only a handful of moments, a few meaningful looks and a phrase or two that he could well have misunderstood. But he doesn’t think so. And he needs Eddie to know he’s still with him, he’s thinking about him, he’s here for him.
Steve takes a new approach with Wayne, showing up every day at the same time and quickly saying it’s okay if Eddie isn’t ready for visitors, please just let him know I came and give him this. This ranges from a brightly colored get well card, to a comic book, to a tape player and a tape of one of Eddie’s favorite bands. It takes the pressure off of Wayne to keep saying no, and hopefully at the same time lets Wayne – and Eddie -- know he’s not going anywhere.
Two weeks after Steve dragged Eddie out of the Upside Down, he arrives at Eddie’s hospital door with a worn copy of The Hobbit. He hands it to Wayne and says his piece, but as he turns to leave, Wayne calls out for him to wait.
“This is one of Eddie’s favorites,” Wayne says slowly. “But I don’t think he’s up for reading yet.”
“Oh, of course, I’m sorry-” Steve says, embarrassment flooding his cheeks.
“Maybe you could read it to him?”
Steve freezes, his heart pounding in his chest.
Wayne hands Steve the book and claps him on the shoulder. “I’m gonna go get some coffee.”
A few minutes later, Steve is curled up on the bed with Eddie, pretending to read to him while Eddie dozes in his arms. Turns out he wasn’t the only one falling in love while fighting monsters.
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