#she's a perfectly lovely woman!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[transmisogyny-explained]

[Image Description: A drawing of a stick figure with long brown hair and a trans flag pin wearing a purple dress. The drawing is labeled “Low Self-Worth Transgender gf” and the figure is surrounded by blocks of text which read:

“‘Scars on my arms? Oh don’t worry about those anon,’” “Doesn’t like it when you buy her things or spend money on her,” “Needy, but doesn’t ask for anything because she doesn’t want to seem high maintenance,” “‘I wouldn’t be mad if you said you’d be happier with a real woman, that would be perfectly normal,’” “‘I still don’t understand how you can be ok with being with someone like me,’” “‘You’re the nicest person I’ve ever met,’” “‘I don’t deserve you,’” “‘I’m such a freak,’” “Not used to being loved,’” “Thought it was a prank when you asked her out,” “‘No it’s ok you seem busy I can do my injections myself,’” “Loves cuddling but doesn’t know how to ask for it,” “You’re the first person she’s placed her trust in who hasn’t hurt her,” “Cries nightly but tries to hide it, doesn't want to bother you with her feelings,” “Surprised that you were unbothered to be seen in public with her,” “Holding your hand soothes her,” “Loves animals because they won’t judge her,” “Cries when you hug her due to being touch starved and thinking she doesn’t deserve to be hugged,” “Thinks she’s ugly, but actually very very cute,” “‘Sometimes I think that you’re just some dream and I’m going to wake up eventually,” and “Gets emotional when you compliment her appearance.” /End Image Description]

This is 100% me

[coldfanbou]

Kinkcember Day 22: Size Kink

Today, we have actress Park Bo young, getting some extra practice with how her character acts.

Length 1.2K

Park Bo Young X Mreader

Boyoung felt your bulge rub against her as the two of you acted through the sex scene.  Even though you were both wearing modesty garments to protect yourself, she felt your cock through it; she could feel your size. It was making her wet as she felt your strong hands hold her wrists by her head. She wasn’t acting. Boyoung was getting turned on. Her soft moans were real. You kissed her passionately. Boyoung wrapped her legs around your waist, and her tongue lingered in your mouth as you played your part. The moment the director said cut, you pulled back; Boyoung reached forward, wanting to continue before she caught herself and realized the scene was over. “Everyone, we’re taking an hour break. Thank you for your hard work!” The director yells before climbing out of his chair and leaving the sound stage. Some of the stagehands begin cleaning up as you grab bathrobes for you and Boyoung. The young woman puts the bathrobe on and remains seated on the bed as you walk to your dressing room.

Boyoung takes a deep breath and tries to slow her heart rate as the last scene replays in her head. The work she had done with you previously didn’t set her up well for this scene. While she had always liked you, she saw a new side of you that she loved. The strength you showed when you held her down, the way you dominated her with your size, awakened something in her. She stood up slowly and went to your dressing room, wanting to continue the scene but actually performing the act this time.

You head to your dressing room after, trying to relax, when you get a knock on the door. “Who is it?”

“It’s Boyoung!” You walk over to the door and invite your costar inside. “Thanks for letting me in. What do you think about our scenes so far?” She asks, you sitting on your couch.

“I think they’re coming out pretty well. This last one, though… it's a little awkward, isn’t it?” You reply, feeling unsure about your performance in a sex scene.

“No, no! You’re doing great; I could feel everything,” Boyoung curses herself as she realizes what she’s said. “That’s not what I meant, hold on. I just mean that I could feel you putting everything you have into your performance.”

“Ah, that’s what you meant. I was a little worried you could feel me through the modesty garments.” You look down. The modesty garments covered your private areas, but wearing them didn’t give you the most confidence, especially considering your size. “These things are a bit thin, and it makes me a little self-conscious.”

“Ah, you shouldn’t be; you’re perfectly fine,” Boyoung says, patting your chest. “You’re nice and strong in more ways than one. Boyoung purses her lips, considering how to bring up the subject. “I don’t know if you know, but I like to get into my roles. So I’d like to take things a little further.”

“How do you suggest we do that?”

“I want you to fuck me,” Boyoung says bluntly. Throwing caution to the wind, she continues, “I could feel your…cock rubbing against me, and I want to know more about how she would actually react. I need you for this,” Boyoung admits, dropping her robe and removing the modesty garments, bearing her body to you. She steps closer to you, her small hands taking off your modesty garments before reaching for your cock. Her hand can barely wrap around it. Boyoung gulps, mesmerized by your cock; her hand slowly moves from the base to the tip. She brings her other hand to your cock, rubbing the tip against her palm as she squats down. Boyoung was getting excited just holding your cock. “May I?”

You give the small woman a nod; being next to her in the last scene turned you on, and you wanted to fuck her. “Yeah, let’s get more into our roles.” Boyoung squats down, coming face to face with your cock. She gives it a few licks, her small tongue running along the underside before she begins to jerk you off. Boyoung used both hands, amazed at your size. She was getting wetter just thinking about you using it on her. Her mouth barely fit the head of your cock; her lips hollowed as she sucked on it, her tongue licking it like it was a lollipop. Knowing she wouldn’t be able to get it down her throat, Boyoung spit on your cock and spread it around your shaft with her hands, pleasing you as she mentally prepared herself. “I think you’re ready,” She says quietly, 

You picked the small woman up easily, holding onto and squeezing her thighs. You align yourself with her entrance and lower her onto your cock. Boyoung squirms in your arms as her walls wrap around your cock. She groans and whimpers as your cock stretches her small cunt, separating her walls and splitting her in two. You move her along your shaft, slowly taking in more of it until you’re buried inside her. Boyoung bites her lip; she can feel your cock stretching her; her fantasies are being fulfilled as you use her like a toy, moving her along your cock. She clings to you, moaning into your ear about how good it feels to have you inside her. 

“You’re so tight,” you grunt in response, reveling in how her walls flex around your cock as you drive it into her. If Boyoung hadn’t been clinging to you before, she would have needed to know that you moved faster. You were getting into a good rhythm, making her bounce on your cock. The older woman moaned your name and begged you for a kiss. You gave in to her demands; your tongue traced her lips until she allowed you inside. You explored each other's mouths. Boyoung moans in the kiss, arching her back as you thrust deeper into her. You make her shiver as you run your hand down her spine; she moans louder, every touch making her entire body tingle. 

“Oh, fuck, you’re so big. I’m going to cum,” She whines, her walls tightening around you. “I want you to cum inside me. I don’t care what happens. Just fill me up.” Boyoung presses her body against your chest, her moans growing louder as she bounces on your cock. 

Nearing your climax, you hold onto Boyoung’s waist tightly, forcing her up and down your shaft as you thrust into her, crushing her womb. “Oh shit! Yes! Fuck me!” Boyoung cries as you use her more like a toy. Her tongue begins to hang out of her mouth. The woman before you was a far sight from the coworker you know, but it only turns you on more. You continue to fuck Boyoung senseless, pistoning in and out of her until you bury yourself inside her suddenly. You cum rushes inside the small woman, painting her walls white before filling her cunt. You rest Boyoung on your cock, letting her recover from her orgasm. You move over to the couch, setting her down on it before pulling out. “Thank you,” Boyoung mumbles, placing her hand against her cunt and collecting your cum; she sucks on her fingers, a look of lust on her face as she tastes the salty liquid.

A knock on your door alerts the two of you. “We’re going to start filming again! Let’s get going!” One of the staff yells from outside. Boyoung looks at you, worried about her disheveled appearance, but quickly gets dressed and puts on her modesty garments and a bathrobe before walking out. You take an extra minute to clean yourself up before walking out, ready to film more scenes with Boyoung. Any scene that involved the two of you making love would be followed by the actual thing in your dressing room.

[vifilms]

tattoo artist!vi who takes notice of just how beautiful you are the moment you step foot in her shop. it’d be the most difficult task in the world to not notice just how insanely breathtaking you are. it’s clear by the smirk on your glossy lips. you know just how good you look. caitlyn, being the woman she is, tries to jump in first. you’re just her type. violet would know, cait’s dated the anti-thesis of her since the moment you broke up. caitlyn kiramman loves pretty girls. anything she can do to be underneath them, she’ll find a way. you fit her bill. violet tried not to take offense of the ways your eyes light up taking to her ex-girlfriend. maybe you’re just nice. that’s it, right? two minutes, someone who is almost as gorgeous as you walks in and then violet forgets about you as her next client walks in. she tries to at least.

tattoo artist!vi who doesn’t stop thinking about you. it’s new york. there’s plenty of pretty girls she can drown herself in. well, if she could figure out how to ask someone out without her crippling anxiety suffocating her. she knows she’s somewhat attractive but her lack of knowing how to efficiently communicate it without sound like the weirdest fuck who has ever lived gets lost in translation. she doesn’t like how sure cait is of herself when she talks about you though. violet doesn’t even know you but seeing the glint in those aquatic-blue eyes make her want to punch something. it’s hard to even tell if it due to her budding crush or that it’s her ex. probably both but she ignores it.

tattoo artist!vi who likes to frequent bars on her days off. it’s when she doesn’t feel alone. it’s fun to bug her sister, powder. she’s always been more of a free spirit out of the two of them. an artist, a wanderer, someone who choses to bartend a couple nights out of the week just because she liked meeting new people, learning their story, what makes them tick. are they a mean drunk, happy, or will they burst into tears when you ask them how they’re doing? vi isn’t either really. she’s quiet, calm even, but tonight part of her wants to cry. she feels lonely, lost, and even a little bit upset caitlyn is your first choice. she only knows your name because of the clientele list and that just feels pathetic. violet’s never been the smoothest of talkers, she knows that more than she feels the blood coursing through her veins. she isn’t the girl and she’s perfectly fine with it. perfectly. fine.

tattoo artist!vi who doesn’t even enjoy work anymore. three months in and you’ve been cait’s girlfriend and the feeling only gets worse. it’s cliché. a little fucked, but being in love with her ex’s girlfriend? it doesn’t get any lower than this. she let it slip days ago, only to powder, thank fucking god. if violet knew one thing, she didn’t wanna deal with caitlyn’s wrath. according to maddie, she’d been a dog with a bone when it came to you. so protective it nearly turned into possession. she wanted everyone to know that you were hers and not anyone else’s. it wasn’t new to violet, cait didn’t like being runner up to anyone. it’s why their relationship ended in the first place, especially when the girlfriend feels inferior to the sister. when powder comes around to the shop, cait can’t help but wear her disgust all over her face like a poorly concealed mask. vi thinks it’s silly. the both of them are nearly the same it’s almost sickening. if only the other took the time to know the object of their disdain, they would see two peas sitting in a pod.

tattoo artist!vi who hates a messy shop. when personal items are left behind or someone’s station isn’t properly sanitized and clean. it’s why she’s here, alone on the sunday, the only day the shop is closed. it’s been too long since she did a deep clean, just a week or too, but that’s long enough for her. she’s always been proud of what she’s been able to accomplish her. even if she didn’t have much, a girlfriend to love on, or if her father was on the other side of the country, she had this. violet ink. it was her name out on the sign over seeing the street, the luminous violet led lights kissing the downtown street. she made it this far and she couldn’t let anyone run her off from something she fought so hard to build from the ground up. it’s why she was surprised when she saw you. your face free of makeup, your hair in it’s natural state, and you appeared more laid back than you ever were — in her shop. it feels like a fever dream she never wishes to wake up from. cait must have given you a spare key to the shop which she would have a discussion with her about that later because what the fuck? but it’s hard for her to stay mad when you’re standing there looking like a million bucks in the most casual pair of sweats she’s ever seen. it feels different to who you usually are. shredded of the image you maintain, stripped back, there’s just a softer version of yourself and vi can’t help but contemplate if this is the side you’re so reluctant to show.

tattoo artist!vi who stutter how some stupid joke, trying to break the ice and it should have made things more awkward than they already were but your laugh full of symphonies just makes violet smile. in her best efforts, she craves to conceal it from you but it’s impossible when you’re looking at her. she can’t help but smile — so she does. desperately, violet tries not to act nervous when you’re looking at her designs on the wall, not saying a word, just inspecting. there’s a chill in her bones she feels, a need for her work to be loved because if it isn’t? it eats her up from the inside out. maybe it’s embarrassing but she needs her work to be loved. what’s the point if it isn’t? it’s always been an extension of her soul, her life, and if someone doesn’t like it? all they say is they don’t like her. it may be the silliest thing in the world, but she needs to be adored. from a complete stranger, from the people who she’s permanently tattooing, and especially from the beautiful women violet can’t stop daydreaming about.

tattoo artist!vi who blushes when you tell her how much you love her designs. there’s a soft touch to her shoulder, your thumb lightly tracing circles in her sturdy bicep. it feel innocent enough but vi doesn’t give herself much time to think about it. painfully, she takes note in how your eyes soar when they make contact with her designs. even if it makes her cocky, violet knows she’s good at her job. clients flying in from all over the country, just to get tattooed by her. with your undeniable charm, you’ve convinced her to do a custom design for you but you wanna discuss it on sunday’s, alone. if anything, she should know this isn’t a good idea. you’re charming, gorgeous and the prettiest thing she’s ever seen. she should be afraid of caitlyn’s wrath, of what would happen if she found out, but it’s innocent…right? she’s a professional. no matter how much she’s attracted to a client, it’s never been an issues and she certainly won’t make it one now. vi nods and the second she does, you’re leaping in her arms, into her space. you smell of lavender and lilies, like spring in the beginning of march. a sun-kissed marvel aching for the shine of summer, for one breath of fresh air. it’s really all she wants, a moment to be in the sunshine with you, if only for a moment at least she could tell the moon about it. her best kept secret and she would cherish every bit of it. 

tattoo artist!vi who tries to keep her head down low as the weeks carry on. even when you try to make more of an effort to speak with her, the last thing she needs is caitlyn to take one final look at her and realize just how much she likes the attention. maddie already made one comment, even if it was light-hearted — it’s enough to keep her on edge. with the design being complete, all she needs is to tattoo but violet’s been avoiding you and what’s worse? you knew it too. in her true avoidant style, violet failed to go to the shop the last two weeks on sunday. the tidiness and damn right organization of her shop was suffering but she still had plans of avoiding it. rather avoiding you, but in her forest fire of a mind, it comes all the same. all of this is so trivial, so stupid, so tragic. it’s kiramman’s day off and violet and sevika are the only artists on hand today which means she’s overworked. the both of them are tired and violet just completed her last session of the day. she sneaks to the back enjoying the cigarette she’d been itching to have. violet’s on her second one when you corner her into the brick wall she’s leaning on. you’re too close. dangerously close, almost as if the fire you’ve created in violet’s lungs might cause her to burn from the inside out. it’s chilling how silent you are until you aren’t. you’re loud about the way you caress her exposed biceps, tracing the lines of her intricate tattoo as it crawls up shoulders and so do your hands. with a sharp graze, you scrap your nails across her skin as if you want to leave a reminder that she was in fact here. should she even even be here? letting you touch her in the way you are? but it’s not like vi has much of a choice when you push the hem of her tank top up to her ribcage, showcasing the flexing abs on her abdomen. it may be faint but there’s a happy trail, one violet wants to see your lips on but she’s scared to say anything, to move, to breathe. “caitlyn said you were ripped underneath. i wanted to see for myself.” then your touch is gone and you are with it. 

tattoo artist!vi who doesn’t show up on sunday…for the first couple of hours. violet thinks of that night, the way you touched her, like you knew exactly what to do before she even could think of what she wanted next. how on earth did you manage to paralyze her with a mere flick of your wrist? when your nails clawed at her toned abdomen, violet felt the stickiness in her boxers and you’d done all of nothing. she had to put an end to things, the private session, violet couldn’t do it. she didn’t want to be caught in some weird and perversed love triangle with her ex. in the back of her throat, violet feels the lump she constantly has to swallow. the only reasonable explanation is that this, you, is all some weird fantasy of caitlyn to get the last laugh. to fully degrade her in a way she couldn’t, not when you’re the person who gets broken up with. it’s not a secret caitlyn’s ego had taken a hit. to anyone, not being the first choice stings but to cait? it might as well be a death sentence and certainly it wouldn’t stand. 

tattoo artist!vi who isn’t one for confrontation but in the need to savor some of her salvation in her dignity, she walks in the shop. you’re still waiting for her. two hours later, you’d hoped she’d show. ”violet, you came.” it’s endearing but violet also sees herself the night before tangled in her black sheets, vibrator on its highest setting as she applies pressure to her clit, fingers nestled so deep inside her cunt as she hears your voice, thinks about your irresistible lips. violet wonders what you sound like when you come and suddenly the thought sends her hurling towards the edge. the smile you offer is almost like you can see right through her, like you know vi came to the idea of you just the night before. 

with a slender smile, you make your way over to her and suddenly the internal dialogue she created to put an end to this arrangement died on your tongue when she shrugs vi’s leather jacket off. she’s only wearing her wrap to cover her chest, not intending on staying for a long time. definitely not enough to finish the beautiful design she created for you. she’d get cait to do it. their styles were similar to it. your girlfriend has to do this. but you’re touching her bare skin. vi is losing focus as she feels the control slip into your greedy fingers. 

“i know what you’re gonna say.” 

“and what’s that?” 

“you wanna stop this, meeting me here, you feel like you’re betraying someone you love and you have too much integrity to keep seeing someone you so obviously want to fuck.” 

“i can’t—” but the words die on violet’s tongue. 

“sense won’t get to you, that’s something caitlyn didn’t understand. you think with your heart of gold. when it drips for someone, you’d let it bleed out if it meant you were saving someone.” you take a pause, slipping off your shirt as your pierced nipples are exposed. violet nearly begins to drool, her eyes unable to look away from your perfect nipples, the swell of your breast how perfectly they fall on your chest, she’s nearly salivating to be offered a taste. “my girlfriend doesn’t understand you’ve found someone else to be loyal to.” 

“this is not, um, i didn’t—” 

sweetly, you kiss her cheek. “it’s such a bitch isn’t it? your heart wants whatever the fuck it yearns for, no damn mercy on who it hurts.”  

violet can only think of how much she wants to be suffocated by your tits, forever trapped in this venus fly trap you’ve caused her to succumb to. with her best foot forward, she wants to tell you to go to hell, that you’re wrong about her — she would never do something like this — until she does. it’s all tongue and teeth, vitriol and lust spills into her mouth as violet pushes you on the bench, ripping your skirt to shreds with her bare hands. only to find nothing underneath. 

bent over the table, ass up in the air, violet wastes not a single moment and stuffs her face in your fat ass. with a gratifying need, she splits your folds on her tongue as she slaps your ass making you whimper and cry out for her name. it’s beautiful, violet thinks. someone needing her to bring them to the edge, and god, you aren’t shy about it either. never has she heard anyone be so loud and proud about sex. so goddamn confident in each moan you let fall from pornogrpahic lips, it’s damn invigorating. the first one comes easily, you spill over vi’s tongue as she moans back into your weeping pussy, liquid gushing over her face violet never wants it to end. the second time violet fucks you with her fingers, stuffing and fucking until there isn’t any part of you that isn’t undeniably shaking. the third time, you’re on top of her, the two of you finding comfortablity on the cot in the break room as violet lets you fuck her. 

exactly what she expects it to be; hot, rough, fast. slippery pussy rubbing against hers until you collapse on top of her, breast pressed against her binded ones. you have a feeling they are there for a reason and you don’t push, for once in your life, you let yourself succumb to sleep as you fall asleep in her arms. 

tattoo artist!vi who doesn’t see you for three months after she had the best sex of her life. even if it does sting, vi knows it’s for the best. six months in and you’re still with caitlyn despite your best efforts. surprising everyone, but violet for different reasons, you admit your slip up to cait but she forgives you. maddie and sevika make a game of it, trying to guess who make you cheat and when violet’s name comes up jokingly, caitlyn’s words leave an unsettling pit in her stomach. 

c’mon, what is violet going to do? look at her. she’s as loyal as a trained dog and i have you trained. don’t i, cupcake? 

tattoo artist!vi who focuses on her work, like a trained dog, she falls back into her routine. sunday’s aren’t as pleasurable as they were with you, or one sunday she should say, but she dismisses the thought altogether. pushing it to the deepest parts of her mind becomes the only viable option. she uses other forms of entertainment to get her mind off of you. powder thinks it’s a good idea to be here but she refuses to step foot in here with her. this is where my path ends, sis. i’ll be just up the hill when you’re ready. a not so subtle wink has her cringing and flipping her off blue-haired braided sister off in the process. this is such a good stupid idea but violet doesn’t manage to convince herself out of this situation she’s conducted for herself. anyways, it’s one night? no one ever has to know. from the moment she steps into the strip club, she knows she never should have been here. she keeps to the bar as she changes songs from the jukebox a few times. this has never been her scene nor will it ever. as she finishes off her class of neat whiskey, the familiar voice whispers into her ear, never thought you’d be here but i guess we’re both full of surprises.

[genderqueerdykes]

hey anon saying "my abuser was a trans man so trans men hate trans women" I just want you to know I'm a transmasc person who was literally abused horrifically on the basis of sharing a similar pronoun and gender identity to my then-girlfriend's ex. she used the abuse of an entirely unrelated person as an excuse to insinuate I never respected her and would regularly scream at me and even invalidated my trauma over a relative dying using her own trauma.

she also, unsurprisingly, was a rampant transandrophobe, calling me horrible and transmisogynistic because I challenged her as a trans woman over saying blatantly transphobic things about trans men and transmascs (myself included).

because it was never about truth, it was about being on top and being the most inconvenienced and being in control of the conversation of suffering (this went beyond us fighting over my gender).

think why you feel that way, that you need sole dictation over the conversation and can't let anyone else breathe their words about experiences that may challenge how you feel, anon

if I were to do what she did, and say I was uncomfortable with trans women because they can be abusive, I would rightfully be ripped limb from limb for the transmisogynistic notion that trans women are remotely a monolith or are abusive based solely on my experience

but I guess trans men aren't owed that same equivalence. they are forced to live a double standard there. because you don't respect us enough for it. why is that.

"because it was never about truth, it was about being on top and being the most inconvenienced and being in control of the conversation of suffering,"

"if I were to do what she did, and say I was uncomfortable with trans women because they can be abusive, I would rightfully be ripped limb from limb for the transmisogynistic notion that trans women are remotely a monolith or are abusive based solely on my experience"

i had to highlight these bits in particulare because good god you worded this so perfectly. i am so sorry you have had this experience but you knocked the ball so far out of the park that i am genuinely in awe of how well you conveyed this, and how absolutely fucked peoples' double standards are when it comes to abuse and how people think that trans men and mascs have it "so much easier in life". you're dead on the money. NONE of this has to do with talking about oppression and looking out for one another.

this behavior is about control.

it's about controlling the narrative. some people literally get so insecure when the conversation turns away from them for even a moment, they think it means that everyone is their enemy. yes, trans women have an absolutely awful time in cisheternormative society. so do trans men.

i have been emotionally and sexually abused and harassed by 3 separate trans women. one of which struck me with an object, another who stole something out of my purse while i was asleep and continuously kept trying to get in my pants after she found out i had a vagina despite me repeatedly turning her down, and another who mocked me for my psychotic episodes and repeatedly swore up and down that i didn't have DID and just in general gaslit and emotionally abused the fuck out of me. the woman who hit me also constantly kept insinuating that penises are what make a man a man, and would not stop making me feel bad for not having a biopenis.

once everyone found out i had a vag, suddenly, i was a cishet woman in their house and i was public enemy #1. i had to deal with my cis gay male roommate shrieking about how he's gay, boobs and vaginas are disgusting, he's a MAN attracted to MEN. meanwhile, my ex girlfriend (the one who hit me) made me feel like shit for being a man without a penis almost every single day. she would guilt trip me about how she missed being with partners with biopenises and would spend all day telling me that she loved me, but then would turn around and scream and yell at me and tell me that i'm an evil asshole.

the transandrophobia i have had to deal with at the hands of other trans women has been absolutely fucking staggering. we need to stop fostering a culture where this is okay because it's genuinely getting people hurt. like you said, if a transmasc were to say "i hate trans women, they're all mean and shitty and abusive," they would literally be torn limb from fucking limb. and rightfully so, because it's a dogshit thing to say. but we HAVE to start telling people who do this to trans men to fuck OFF and stop it.

i am very sorry you went through that. i hope things improve for you, and that you're able to spend time in company that treats you with respect. nobody should have to deal with literal profiling just because of their gender.

is that what we're doing now? profiling people based off of their gender? how is that progressive? how is that liberating? how is that trans rights? it ain't.

[writtenbyyunjin]

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 COLLISION OF LOVE

PAIRING : huh yunjin x fem! reader ( wlw )

GENRE : fluff, gl

SYNOPSIS : you are a student who has a huge crush on your literature teacher, which is also the sweetest yet the hottest from the whole college and only your close friends knows about this.

WARNINGS : teacher x student trope! ( gl )

__________________________________________

monday, it was your first class of the morning; litterature, with your amazing teacher, a woman named huh yunjin, who is only 3 years older than you. since the beginning of the school year, you can’t help but find this woman definitely attractive, even hot. and in less than a month, you directly had the biggest crush ever on her. but it’s not like anybody can blame you, boys and girls are literally turning around her and try their best to catch her attention. she is like “aphrodite’s lost daughter” and “the incarnation of a goddess” as you say multiple times to your friends, which are always tired about all the discussions that goes always about her, and they say things like “you know it’s not right to have feelings for this woman, she’s your teacher!” and stuff like that, but you didn’t care at all. you knew it wasn’t right, but honestly, can you help it?

it was the beginning of the class, and when miss huh started the lesson, you can’t help but secretly admire her from head to toe. how her siren glasses would suits her so perfectly, how her hair were even brighter than usual, how her skirt highlights her curves, and much more. for you, she was the incarnation of the word “perfect”. but as the minutes passes by, you can’t help but start to feel your eyes becoming heavy. poor you who have spent the whole night fantasising about her. she was hunting your mind the whole night. and now, you’re found out being completely tired and sleepy. so, after few minutes, you slowly fell asleep on your table. obviously, yunjin have noticed it but she didn’t comment it and just simply smiled a bit before continuing her lesson.

as the bell rings, you obviously don’t hear it and while miss huh allow her students to leave the classroom. she make sure that everyone have left before she made her way towards your table and have put her two hands on your table as she went closer until your ear and whispered in a soft tone : “hey it’s time to wake up”. as she says this, she sees that you doesn’t react or not even move a finger, so she tries again as she went back closer to your ear and whispered in a sweet tone : “sleepyhead, wake up”. and when she says this, you slowly wake up and start to rub your eyes softly a bit before you look around you and you are directly met by yunjin’s face which was just centimetres away from yours, and when you notice her being so close to you, you immediately look away completely embarrassed and flustered, and yunjin can’t help but find you cute in this situation, so all she does is giggling before saying : “someone’s flustered?”.

as she asks this, you suddenly feel your heart about to explode from your chest as you feel as well your cheeks becoming pinky. as yunjin sees that you doesn’t answer but at the contrary continue to avoid any eyes contact with her, she leans even closer to you and with her fingers, she gently place them on your chin before she lift it so you are obligated to look at her in the eyes. when you do so, you feel like the whole world stopped for a moment, you instantly got lost in her eyes. you are so lost in her eyes that you don’t even notice that she asked you something, and suddenly, you can’t help but take a quick glance at her lips, but at the end, you look at them the whole time. when yunjin notices it, she immediately smirk a bit before she lick her lips, and this simple move was enough for making your heart full of butterflies. she says in a teasing tone : “someone’s hungry, are we?”. when she says this, you immediately look back at her in the eyes as you don’t have any strength to reply to her. then, she continues to speak as she leans dangerously closer to your face, and your lips by the same occasion : “you know, i always wondered how your lips would taste…”. as she says this, it makes your heart skipping a beat and the most when she stopped right in front of your lips, they were just few inches from each other, and finally, you see her eyes lingering to your lips, and it was the move to made your legs shaking a bit. you try your best to stop it, but you can’t. and when yunjin notices it, she puts one of her hand on your thigh and then say in a soft yet command tone that makes your whole body shivers : “i know you want it too, i see in every classes how your devouring me with your eyes… tell me that you wanna kiss me”. at her words, you can’t help but bite your lips for a minute before immediately replying to her as you take a glance at her lips : “i.. i wanna kiss you, so bad”. yunjin can’t help but find how cute you are in this situation, completely flustered yet nervous at the same time. so she doesn’t waits any longer and smile to you softly before she finally press her lips against yours, and you immediately give the kiss back to her and kiss her more passionately for few minutes, and you swear that these few minutes are the best of your whole existence. it was like each other’s lips were made for each other, it matches perfectly. while you continued to kiss, you suddenly wrap one of your hand around her neck and you swear that you heard yunjin giggling a little bit and as you feel her kissing you even more due to this little gesture, you can’t help but feel fireworks in your heart.

after few minutes, yunjin is the first who breaks the kiss as she gasp for her, and when she move her lips away from yours, you immediately miss her lips against yours. the way her lips were matching yours so well, the way your lips were dancing with each other. then, she looks at you directly in the eyes, and this time, it seems like her eyes have changed. you could definitely read love and affection in them, and it made your heart reading. for few seconds, she admired you in silence before she place a hand in your hair and started to caress it softly before she says in a soft whisper : “i love you..” when you hear those words, you feel your whole heart beating faster than before and you can’t help but smile to her brightly and since you’re all happy about this, you immediately kiss her on her cheek and then hug her tightly, which makes her chuckling a bit as she says in a teasing tone : “hey, don’t worry, i won’t escape.. sleepyhead”. as she says this, you suddenly realised how tightly you are holding her, so you immediately let her breathing for a minute before you look at her in the eyes, and you two make an eye contact, full of love and admiration towards each other.

after few seconds, you finally wrap yours arms around her neck so you bring her closer to your face and look at her in the eyes before you lays to her lips and say : “i love you much more”. and after you’ve said that, you start to go closer to her lips as the both of your lips were just millimeters away from each other, you were about to kiss her, but unfortunately, the two of us hear a knock on the door, which makes you sigh silently of frustration. so, you just bite your lips a bit and move away gently from yunjin, before she also sighs and gets up as you also do so and when she notices your sad expression on your face, she quickly cup your face with your hands and say in a soft tone with a bright smile that makes your heart flutters away : “hey, don’t be sad, we’ll see each other soon okay?”. after she said this, she gives you a quick kiss on your forehead, what makes you smiling again, before she quickly goes to her desk and start to write something on a little paper before she gives it to you and say with a little smirk : “here’s my number, i knew you would ask me”. after she said this, you can’t help but chuckle a bit before you put it in your pocket and she doesn’t even have the change to add anything that you suddenly start to kiss her passionately, which takes her few seconds to understand what’s happening before she directly replies to your kiss and give it to you back quickly as she places her hands on your hips. after few seconds, you break the kiss and yunjin move away her hands from your hips and the both of you make your way to the door of the classroom before you say with a smile to her : “see you later, i love you”. and after you’ve said this, she smiles to you brightly and give you a last kiss on your forehead before she opens the door of the classroom as her students were already waiting for her, and as you make your way away of her classroom as she greets her students and let them enter the classroom, you turn around and see her giving you a wink with a little smirk before you smile to her and then she closes the door of her classroom while you leave the college basement, happier than ever…

[kdyq]

The start of a new beginning

Context : As Ambessa steps into a new role one of fierce protector and tender caretaker. While navigating the delicate early days of potential pregnancy with the help of Hextech IVF.

The lab was quiet except for the soft hum of Hextech crystals glowing faintly along the walls. Piltover’s finest alchemist stood before you a meticulous mixture of science and magic in his hands. Within the small vial he carried was the culmination of countless discussions, hopes, and dreams shared between you and Ambessa a mixture of your genetic material prepared for implantation through the marvel of Hextech fertility.

Ambessa stood beside you her imposing figure like a fortress of strength. Her golden eyes usually so sharp and calculating flickered with an emotion she rarely allowed herself to show… hope. “This is it” you said your voice quiet but steady as you reached for her hand.

She took your smaller hand in hers, her touch surprisingly gentle. “This is the beginning of something greater than either of us.”You smiled up at her warmth spreading through your chest. “You sound more optimistic than I expected.”

Her lips quirked in a rare soft smile. “Let’s call it confidence. We’ve fought for this and Medardas don’t lose battles.”The alchemist cleared his throat reminding you both that this moment was more than just words. “Shall we proceed?”

You nodded and Ambessa gave your hand one final squeeze before releasing it. “I’ll be right here”she promised her deep voice grounding you.

The process was not painful but it was deeply intimate. Lying on the sterile table you felt a strange mix of vulnerability and strength. The alchemist worked with precision the glowing Hextech apparatus buzzing faintly as it did its work.

Ambessa sat by your side her chair pulled close. She had insisted on being present for every second refusing to leave your side even for a moment. Her large hand rested on yours her thumb tracing soothing patterns across your skin. “Does it hurt?” she asked her voice uncharacteristically soft.

“Not really” you replied glancing up at her. “It’s just… strange. Knowing this could change everything.” “It will change everything” she said firmly her golden eyes locking onto yours. “And I’ll be here for every step of it.”

The procedure concluded without complication. The alchemist stepped back his expression one of professional satisfaction. “The implantation is complete. Now we wait for confirmation.” “How long?” Ambessa asked her tone calm but commanding.

“Two weeks” the alchemist replied. “ I’ll provide instructions to ensure the process is as smooth as possible. Minimal stress plenty of rest and careful monitoring.”Ambessa’s jaw tightened slightly but she nodded. “Understood.”You knew from that point own you wouldn’t lift a single finger until that conformation.

From the moment you left the clinic Ambessa transformed into a one woman security detail. She insisted on carrying you into the estate despite your protests.

“I’m perfectly capable of walking!” you said laughing as she scooped you up effortlessly.“Humor me” she replied her voice tinged with rare amusement. “You heard the alchemist minimal stress. I don’t take chances.”

Over the next few days her overprotectiveness became both endearing and slightly irritating . She refused to let you lift a finger but you know this is a love language for her she just doesn’t wanna tell you that. She’ll be reorganizing your usual routines with military precision.

“Ambessa I can pour my own tea” you said one morning as she carefully placed a steaming cup in front of you.“Not while I’m here” she countered her tone leaving no room for argument.

“oh my god your gonna drive me crazy” you teased though the warmth in your voice betrayed how much you appreciated her care.She leaned down her golden eyes locking onto yours. “Good. It means you’ll stay put.”

One evening as the two of you sat in the estate’s sprawling garden you finally managed to coax her into relaxing. The stars above were bright and the soft hum of the estate’s wards created a comforting background noise.

“You’ve been hovering “you said, leaning your head against her shoulder.“And?” she replied her smirk audible in her voice.

You laughed softly. “And I love you for it. But you don’t have to treat me like I’m fragile.”Ambessa shifted slightly, turning to face you. Her large hands cradled yours, the contrast between your smaller fingers and hers a reminder of her strength.

“You’re not fragile,” she said, her voice low and serious. “But this…. this life we’re creating…. it’s the most important thing I’ve ever done. And I won’t take any risks with it or with you.”The intensity in her gaze left you momentarily speechless. You reached up, cupping her cheek and she leaned into your touch.

“I know love” you said softly. “But you don’t have to carry it all on your own. We’re in this together.”Her expression softened and she pressed a kiss to your forehead. “You’ve always been better at balancing strength with softness. Maybe I could learn from you.”

As the two weeks stretched on your interactions grew even more intimate. Ambessa was a constant presence her protective instincts balanced by moments of vulnerability she rarely showed anyone else.

One afternoon she found you curled up in the library flipping through a book of baby names.“Already planning?” she asked her tone light as she sat beside you.“Just… imagining,” you replied, leaning against her. “Do you have any preferences?”

She took the book from your hands, flipping through it thoughtfully. “Something strong. Something that carries weight.”You smiled. “That’s very you.”

She looked down at you, her golden eyes warm. “And something that honors you.”The day of the follow up appointment arrived and Ambessa’s usual composure was replaced by a quiet tension. She held your hand tightly as you both awaited the results.When the alchemist finally returned holding the glowing test tube that signaled success, you felt tears well in your eyes.

“It worked”he said simply his voice filled with warmth. “Congratulations.”You turned to Ambessa your heart full. She stared at the test tube for a long moment before pulling you into her arms.

“You’ve done it” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “We’ve done it.”In that moment, surrounded by her strength and love you knew that this child would be born into a world shaped by both power and tenderness a legacy built on the unshakable bond you shared.

“THE END”

AN/ This took me so long to jus think about how im gonna do this whole story but im just about done with the part 4 ish I just wanted to have all or most of this mini series done so it wont be a long time between each “chapter”. Next one shot is Sevkia 🥸

[alewritesfics]

Bridging Realities

ℑ. ����𝔯𝔦𝔡𝔤𝔦𝔫𝔤....𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔩𝔦𝔱𝔦𝔢𝔰

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader

Word count: 3.1k

Warnings: slow burn, unedited, angst, eventual smut, playful banter, happy ending

You sighed, your eyes half-lidded as the familiar orchestral strains of Bridgerton filled her room. You sat cross-legged on your bed, the soft glow of the screen illuminating your face. There was nothing more comforting than watching the series you loved so much. Rewatching the third season once again

Personally, you enjoyed the second season so much more but then again, maybe it had to do with Anthony Bridgerton being the focus and not the other brothers.

Lady Whistledown’s narration sounded through the speakers, narrating the final words of the last episode, slowly turning into Penelope’s voice. You leaned back against your pillow, letting the sound wash over you. You knew the world wasn’t real, that the characters were fictional, yet somehow, Bridgerton had a hold on your heart.

Your days were filled with spreadsheets, emails, and endless Zoom meetings. Romance was more of a distant dream than a reality, your last date having ended with awkward silences and mismatched expectations. In comparison, the universe of Bridgerton seemed impossibly alluring and the dream world every girl wished to live in

But as the credits washed over the TV, your eyelids grew heavier. The candle’s lavender scent, the one you lit to relax, mingled with the faint hum of the screen, and soon, you fell asleep.

The first thing you noticed was the sun, bright, golden, and far too harsh for your liking. You groaned as it hit your eyes, squinting as you tried to roll over, only to feel the crunch of grass beneath your hands. Grass?

Your eyes snapped open and you sat up abruptly. Gone was your bed, your cozy room, your TV. Instead, you found yourself on the edge of an immaculately trimmed garden path. The air smelled of damp earth and blooming flowers, and birds chirped in the distance.

Panic bubbled in your chest as you took in your surroundings. You were outside, in what looked like the perfectly manicured grounds of a grand estate. But what caught your attention most was what you were wearing.

A corset cinched your waist tightly, and the skirt of her butter-yellow gown flared out around you. The material was heavy, the embroidery intricate, and your gloved hands trembled as you touched the neckline.

The ridiculous color made you want to barf, not to mention that when you grabbed your hair, the first thing that caught your attention was that it was red.

“What the—” you started to curse

“Y/n Featherington!”

The shrill voice cut through your confusion like a knife. You turned sharply, your heart racing. A woman in a garishly bright gown approached her, her face a blend of exasperation and disapproval. You had to admit it took you a moment to recognize her, but when you did, your jaw dropped.

“Lady Featherington?” you whispered.

The older woman pursed her lips. “What are you doing dawdling out here? Have you forgotten we have breakfast waiting? Come along, child!”

You scrambled to your feet, your mind reeling. Lady Featherington? None of this made sense. The last thing you remembered is watching her on Tv happy for Penelope but-

“Are you quite well, or has all that daydreaming rotted your brain?” the matriarch continued, waving a handkerchief impatiently. “The season is already underway, and we can’t afford for you to be making a spectacle of yourself.”

You stared, words failing you. Lady Featherington’s impatience only grew. “For goodness sake, do not stand there gaping like a fish! Move, Y/n!”

And with that, she turned and marched off toward the sprawling estate ahead. You hesitated, glancing around as if someone, anyone, might jump out and explain what was happening. When no one appeared, you hurried after Lady Featherington.

The Featherington estate was exactly as you remembered it from the series: bright, bold, and bordering on garish. But you weren’t familiar with it since they didn’t show it much, or at least the full house, all they showed was Penelope’s room, the drawing room and you could say the entrance.

You followed Lady Featherington through the grand halls, struggling to keep up in your unfamiliar gown. Did they really need to wear corsets all day? You felt like you couldn’t breath. Each step felt surreal, like you were floating through a dream.

“Do fix your hair before you sit down,” Lady Featherington snapped as they approached the dining room. “Honestly, Y/n, you’re two and twenty not two and ten. One would think you’d have learned to present yourself properly by now.”

You scowled but kept quiet, your mind too preoccupied to argue. Twenty-two? The words hit you hard. That was your real age. How did this fictional world know that?

Your thoughts were interrupted as you entered the dining room. Seated at the table were three familiar faces: Penelope, Prudence, and Philippa Featherington.

You froze, they looked just like their on-screen actors, down to the way Prudence leaned too close to the mirror she carried, fixing her hair with exaggerated care. Philippa was giggling over something no one else seemed to find amusing, and Penelope sat quietly, her expression kind but weary.

“Good morning, Y/n,” Penelope greeted, her voice soft.

“Morning, Pen” the words left your mouth before you could think, as if it was something familiar to you, something you’ve always done.

You sank into a chair, your movements awkward under the weight of the hideous dress you wore. Prudence snorted. “Honestly, you look half asleep. Did you even bother to brush your hair this morning?”

Your hand instinctively flew to your hair. You had no idea what it looked like, only that it was red, and kind of curly, but the smug smirk on Prudence’s face told you it wasn’t good.

“Leave her be,” Penelope said gently, giving you a sympathetic smile

“Leave her be?” Lady Featherington exclaimed as she swept into the room. “How can she hope to attract any suitors if she looks as though she’s rolled out of bed? This is her second season already, and we’ve yet to secure an offer!”

The words stung, even though you knew they weren’t meant for your real self. But the reminder that you were apparently in the start of a second season in Regency-era London was enough to snap you back into focus.

“None of us have attracted any match yet, have we?” You try to defend yourself

“I beg to differ” Philippa cuts in “Mr. Finch and I are soon to be married” she giggled

You rolled your eyes “perhaps instead of worrying about your sisters, you should start worrying whether you will still remain unmarried by the end of the season” Lady Featherington told you. You decided not to respond, not wanting to start an argument.

Breakfast was an exercise in survival. You focused on eating, using the elaborate table settings as a distraction from the whirlwind of thoughts in your head. You listened as Prudence and Philippa bickered over their prospects, while Lady Featherington chimed in with unsolicited advice about how to catch a gentleman’s eye.

Penelope remained mostly quiet, though she sent you a few sympathetic glances. How such a sweet girl got born into this kind of family, you would never know.

“So, what are your plans for the day, Y/n?” Penelope finally asked.

You froze. Plans? What plans? Did people in Regency London even make plans, or were they just dragged around by their mothers and chaperones?

“Um…” you began, only to be interrupted by Prudence.

“She hasn’t any plans,” Prudence declared. “She never does.”

“Don’t be cruel,” Penelope chided.

Prudence shrugged. “It’s the truth.”

You looked down out the window, ignoring their conversation as you thought over what to do. What even is your purpose? From what you remembered, there was no fourth Featherington daughter, well, there was in the books but it was a little girl that was best friends with Hyacinth. And you are no little girl, obviously.

“Could we not have appealed to the queen, mama?” You snapped back into the conversation as you heard Prudence’s familiar dialogue “after mourning dear papa for so long, perhaps her majesty might extend her kindness and allow us to be presented again”

You couldn’t help yourself and cut in “even if you were presented again, Prudence, you still would not be declared the diamond”

“Y/n!” Lady Feather- mama, god you need to get used to calling her that, scolded, you apologized, shoving Penelope slightly as I saw her chuckling silently next to me

“I see no need to go through all of that again when I myself am already betrothed to Mr. Finch” Philippa stated, waving her hand around

Prudence turned to her “Mr. Finch may very well change his mind” she said snarkily. I sighed turning back to Penelope.

“what has you so impatient, Pen?” you asked her

She turned to face you, a small smile on her face “It is just nerves” she tried to play it off, but since you have already seen the series, you already know what it is “On whether I will find a good prospect this season… no one wants to be a spinster, but maybe I will be the unfortunate one to become so”

You chuckled, “You will not become a spinster, Pen.” You assure her “I assure you that if you don’t find a husband this season, you will the next one…and who knows, maybe it will be the person you’ve always longed for” you give her a knowing smile

“I am not that fortunate” she stands, walking towards the window.

“Penelope, how many times must I warn you to be wary of that window?” Portia called out “Do you wish to appear like a befreckled beggar spending all day in the sun?”

“Of course not, mama” Penelope turned her head to face her “My apologies” she smiled before turning back to the window

“It is here” She said happily

You watched Penelope as she stood behind the couch Prudence and Philippa occupied as they all read Lady Whistledown´s paper.

“I am off to the market with my maid, mama” She told Portia “I have just a bit left of pin money and- “Portia waved her off, gesturing for her to go

“I´ll go with you” you said to her as she turned to leave

The park was a lively scene that afternoon, filled with ladies strolling arm-in-arm and gentlemen gathered in clusters, exchanging conversation and laughter. You had chosen to take her walk alone, though Penelope had gone ahead to meet Eloise.

The events of the past few weeks still left you feeling disoriented, but you had started to settle into your role as Y/n Featherington, even though the world around you felt like an elaborate charade. You weren’t entirely sure why you were here or how you were supposed to navigate these social games, but you were determined to find your footing.

Lost in thought, you didn’t notice the tall figure stepping into your path until you nearly collided with him.

Your head snapped up, your eyes immediately opening wide as you saw him. You’ve always imagined meeting him but finally seeing him in front of you is surreal.

Your breath got caught In your throat.

Anthony.

He was exactly as you remembered—broad-shouldered and impeccably dressed, his dark hair neatly styled and his expression exuding the quiet confidence of a man accustomed to commanding attention. But seeing him here, in the flesh, was entirely different from watching him on a screen.

And he was handsome. Extremely.

“Miss Featherington?” His voice, deep and smooth, cut through her shock like a blade. Your eyes widened. How did he know- ah, right, Penelope

You blinked, trying to regain your composure. “Lord Bridgerton,” you managed to say, dipping into a shaky curtsy as you remembered it was the custom in this era

He stepped closer, his brows drawing together in mild concern. “Are you quite all right? You look as though you’ve seen a ghost.”

You gave a nervous laugh, hoping it didn’t sound as forced as it felt. “My apologies, my lord. You just… startled me, is all.”

“I assure you, that was not my intention,” he replied, his tone polite but edged with curiosity. His dark eyes studied you, and for a moment, you felt as though he could see straight through your carefully constructed façade, realizing that you didn’t belong to this world

“You must forgive me,” You said quickly, your words tumbling out in an effort to mask your unease. “I was lost in thought and did not see you approach.”

“Clearly,” he said, though his tone carried no malice. “It is a rare occurrence to catch someone so thoroughly off guard.”

You straightened, forcing yourself to meet his gaze. “And yet, here you are, Lord Bridgerton. A man of many talents, I see. I suppose this is a rare moment of leisure for you?” You tried to make small talk, not wanting to waste this opportunity.

Anthony raised an eyebrow at you. “Leisure, you say? And what makes you so certain I am not hard at work?”

“Hard at work?” You tilt your head, feigning innocence. “I had imagined as much. A man like you—busy securing the future of your family and interviewing potential viscountesses—surely has little time for aimless walks.”

Anthony blinked, clearly caught off guard by your bluntness, though he recovered quickly. “You are well-informed, Miss Featherington.”

“Only what everyone else already knows,” You replied casually, smoothing the skirt of her gown. “Your efforts to find a suitable match have become the talk of the ton. I dare say even Lady Whistledown has taken notice.”

“That is hardly surprising,” Anthony remarked, his tone edged with faint exasperation. “Lady Whistledown takes notice of everything.”

You tilt your head “Then perhaps the better question is whether you take notice of her words.”

Anthony’s brow furrowed slightly, and for a moment, he seemed to genuinely consider your question. “I find that Lady Whistledown’s observations are often exaggerated, though not always without merit. Still, I prefer to form my own opinions.”

“An admirable approach,” You said. “Though I do wonder, does that same logic apply to the ladies you interview? Or do you rely on recommendations from your family?”

He studied you carefully, as though trying to determine the intent behind your words. “I assure you, Miss Featherington, I take my responsibilities very seriously. When it comes to choosing a viscountess, I rely on no one but myself.”

You raised her hands in mock surrender. “Of course, my lord. I wouldn’t dream of suggesting otherwise. Let me guess, the perfect wife must be well read, intelligent, must play an instrument. Must know how many children she wants, able to hold a conversation and most important, hips capable of child bearing, am I wrong?”

Anthony’s eyes narrowed slightly, a mix of surprise and amusement flickering across his features. “You have quite the imagination, Miss Featherington,” he said, his tone even, though there was a distinct edge of curiosity in his gaze. “And an uncommonly sharp tongue.”

You offered a small smile, your nerves steadying under the guise of playful banter. “Forgive me, my lord, if I’ve overstepped. But the list does sound like something Lady Whistledown herself might concoct. Or perhaps it’s simply what one hears when the Bridgerton heir is the subject of such persistent speculation.”

Anthony regarded you with an unreadable expression, his hands clasped behind his back as he leaned slightly closer. “And do you often find yourself among those who speculate, Miss Featherington?”

Your breath hitched as he leaned in closer, hesitating for a moment before responding, your voice light but measured. “Speculation is hardly my pastime, my lord. However, when a man of your stature begins conducting interviews as though he were drafting a contract, it’s difficult not to take notice.”

There was a flicker of something in his eyes—something that made your heart flutter. “And what would you have me do instead, Miss Featherington? Rely solely on the whims of fate? Entrust my future to the uncertainty of a fleeting glance across a ballroom?” he murmured

“Some might argue that fleeting glances have led to the happiest of unions,” you countered, . “Though I suppose that would not suit a man as practical as yourself.” You smiled knowingly, already aware that before next season starts, he would already be in a marriage of love that started with those very same fleeting glances he has no interest in.

Anthony’s lips quirked upward in the faintest hint of a smile, though he quickly masked it. “You seem to have a rather strong opinion of me, despite our limited acquaintance.”

“Limited, perhaps, but not nonexistent,” you replied, taking a small step closer as if to match his intensity. “I’ve heard enough to know that you value duty above all else, that you are a man of precision and purpose. But even the most dutiful man can benefit from embracing the unexpected.”

He tilted his head, his expression thoughtful. “And do you speak from experience, Miss Featherington?”

You hesitated, his question striking closer to home than you anticipated. “Perhaps,” you said finally, your voice softer now. “But even if I did, I doubt my experience would be of any interest to you, my lord.”

“On the contrary,” Anthony said, his voice low but firm. “I find you quite… intriguing.”

Your breath hitched once again at his words, and for a moment, the world seemed to narrow to just the two of you. But then Anthony straightened, his composed demeanor returning as quickly as it had slipped.

“However,” he continued, his tone now more formal, “I must take my leave. Duty calls, as you so astutely pointed out.”

“Of course, my lord,” you said, managing a polite curtsy despite the sudden flutter in your chest. “I wouldn’t dare keep you from your responsibilities.”

As he turned to go, Anthony paused, glancing back over his shoulder. “Miss Featherington,” he said, his voice softer now, “you may think me a man of precision, but even precision has its limits. Perhaps one day, you’ll learn just how far.”

And with that, he strode away, leaving you rooted to the spot, your mind racing and your heart pounding in a way you hadn’t expected.

As soon as he was out of sight, you let out a shaky breath, your heart still racing. Seeing him on-screen had never prepared you for this—for the sheer intensity of his presence, for the way his voice seemed to resonate in her very bones.

You pressed a hand to your chest, trying to steady yourself. This world might have been a dream come true, but Anthony Bridgerton was proving to be a far more disarming reality than you imagined.

Taglist:

@heyyitsreign

[c-cobweb]

ok so I was thinking about husband/doctor mayhew x wife/nurse reader that work together at the hospital and they fuck at the hospital but Lois confront them about it

love your writing btw 💗💗❤️

𝓞ur little secret ⋮ doctor charlie mayhew

ᡣ𐭩 . warnings ᯓ +18 mndi!, smut, u p i v, immoral behaviours, husband!doctor charlie x wife!reader, a bit of angst, i think that’s all. a/n ᯓ thanks for the request and also thanks for the good words! i tried to do this the best i could ♡. ps: english is not my first language.

───────── ⋆⋅🕸️⋅⋆ ────────

Charlie's big hand was positioned over your mouth to prevent the sounds from being emitted too loud. His hips hit yours from behind at an accelerated pace, making his cock touch all the right places inside you. Your hands on the wall helped your back arch more, making the man's thrusts reach deeper.

“My little wife, always so responsive to me” Charlie whispered in your ear, accentuating the sentence with a firm stab.

You had to bite your husband's hand that covered your mouth the moment his free hand ended up on your clit, massaging it in slow and tortuous circles.

You were both in Lois' empty room while she was doing her rehabilitation exercises. And yes, you were fucking.

In your mind you were screaming for Charlie to let you cum, but you didn't dare to say it out loud knowing that your voice volume would be too high and that you would attract the attention of your co-workers and patients.

“Do you want to come, baby?” He asked mockingly while lightly biting the lobe of your right ear. “Come on, pray for it”

You grabbed his hand by the wrist to separate it from your mouth and be able to talk. “Please, please... Let me cum” You begged in a low voice and between moans. “That's my girl” He said.

And with that, his thrusts and caresses to your clit increased and became stronger.

Finally the knot in your tummy fell apart making you wet your husband's cock. He kept lashing out at you to help you cope with the orgasm until you calmed down.

Charlie quickly came out of you — leaving you with a feeling of intense emptiness — and began to caress his member behind you.

You could hear how his breathing was agitated and how small curses came out of his lips. Seconds later you felt how his cum landed on your back.

You leaned completely on the wall, trying to calm your breathing while you felt how your husband was cleaning up the mess he had caused on your back.

Once you stabilised and were clean, you began to pick up your nurse's outfit, since you were the only one of the two who was completely naked, and with Charlie's help you began to dress.

When you were both presentable you left the room, luckily there was no one in the hallway who could betray you.

You arrived at the rehabilitation room where Lois was doing her exercises, but when she saw you, anger consumed her.

“You have done it again,” the woman said, you both looked at each other without understanding anything. “You've had sex in my room again”

You got nervous, but as always, Charlie knew perfectly what to do. “Don't talk nonsense, Lois. We would never do that”

“Do you think I'm stupid?” She asked offended and incredulous. “Every time I go back to my room it smells like sex, and it's obvious that it's your fault”

The other doctors and nurses who were in the room looked at the three of you, some with sorrow for Lois and others with compassion for you. It wasn't the first time Lois said crazy things about hospital workers.

“Please, we are professionals. We would never do something like that and much less in a patient's room” Your husband continued and you decided to contribute to the conversation. “Yes, Lois, what you're saying is in very bad taste. We were the ones who took care of you while you were in a coma”

It was at that moment that Lois started screaming that Charlie tried to kill her and that you did nothing to stop him. Some nurses began to take the elderly woman to her room while she resisted and shouted to leave her.

“We're going to drive her crazy” You whispered so that only Charlie would hear you, watching the scene with sorrow. He just let out a low laugh and wrapped his arm around your waist. “She's already crazy”

───────── ⋆⋅🕸️⋅⋆ ────────

mlist , bots

 c-cobweb 2024 — all rights reserved. do not modify, repost, translate, or plagiarise my content.

[love-at-first-sight-23]

Obx Headcanons Part 1|What Gifts to Give them

Any gender, SFW, romantic or platonic, no warnings (except JJ and Rafe by themselves?)

—Header from saradika-graphics—

JJ:

Get him a new surfboard, surfboard polish, a surfboard stand— ok, we get it, he loves surfboards. 

A new pair of sunglasses or a skateboard would also send this man crazy.

(And if we’re being honest, he’d love a nice shiny new gun 😂.)

He’s likely to be pretty chilled out about receiving gifts, unless his inner child happens to be out and he starts running around the house like your dog when they get the Zoomies.

Kinda like this.

Rafe:

(Help, it keeps autocorrecting to Rage.) 

Rafe would be surprised to get a gift from you in the first place, but don’t take his awkwardness as him being ungrateful. 

He’d appreciate anything you get for him (hopefully) and try his shot on finding something for you as well. It’ll be store-bought but hey, it’s the thought that counts.

As for what to get him, let it be anything but cocaine or alcohol. We all know the reasons why this is a bad idea. 

Just find him a nice tie or fancy ring, and he’ll be perfectly happy. Cologne, anyone?

Kiara:

Kiara, whether you’re a friend or dating, would be super grateful about receiving a gift no matter what it is.

In the case that she doesn’t like it, which isn’t likely, well, at least there’s the gift receipt. (Right?)

She’d love some handmade jewelry or something crafty, possibly something nature-related per her activist persona. (Maybe a small wooden whale to place on her nightstand?)

If it’s jewelry, you can expect her to wear it every day of the week and show it to her friends —(“Guys, look at the ___ y/n got me! Isn’t it gorgeous?”)— whilst taking good care of it.

Pope:

Pope is probably one of the best when it comes to gift giving— He’ll be chill with a smile on his face, polite as he always is.

Really though, he’s grateful. If you’re dating, don’t be surprised to see a blush on his face. On second thought, he might blush anyway out of embarrassment.

A nice book or a quality pack of pencils is all you need to make him happy.

If you’re leaning away from the nerdier side, how about a new hiking backpack or a fishing rod?

John B:

Awkward about receiving gifts? Yes. Happy though? Also yes.

He’d love a surfboard like JJ or something that reminds him of his friends. That’s part of the spirit of Christmas, isn’t it?

A picture frame of his closest friends, a bracelet with your names on it, or a photo album of all you guys waving to him will hit right home.

Booker is John’s middle name, so he might just book it on out of there he’s so emotional— no? Nevermind.

(Side note: don’t buy him a gun like JJ.)

Sarah:

Sarah is the best at receiving gifts— case closed. She’s the sweetest thing ever; the only thing she enjoys more than recieving gifts from you are giving them. True beauty of Christmas.

Sarah will literally squeal with delight when she opens the beautiful gift you’ve wrapped just for her. Expect hand-written thank you cards sent to your address.

Cute jewelry, a stylish new sweatshirt, or her favorite box of chocolates fit her vibe.

Have a blast shopping for/with her for the holidays!

Cleo:

Gotta include my fave girl boss!

Cleo will take anything you gift her to heart. Trust me, this woman will never let an act that means so much to her go to waste.

Cleo’s gotta admit, her new friends grew on her. She’ll treasure that present of yours forever. A hug or a thank-you card good enough for thanks?

Make her something with the shells from the beach or a glamorous woven-style bag to feel unique and extra-special to her ❤️

Ooh, don’t forget about some sharpening tools for her knives~

[crunchycerealisgood]

The Saddle: A Melvika Fic

Serene.

That's the only word that could come to mind as grey eyes peered through the dancing smoke that was cast from the cigar in her mouth. It blinded her before opening, like a curtain, to reveal Noxias most hidden treasure. She shun like a gem, the lighting of Piltover's sun caressing the golden adornments as lovingly as it did her skin; kissing her from the tips of her feet to the tops of her head.

From there that love spilled out twisted into locs before exiting out into thick curls. Golden cuffs hugged different parts of the style and glowed like a crown on her. She worked diligently, hazel green eyes swimming across the documents in her hands. A small chuff exited the confident mouth before a smirk grew on black lips when those eyes shot up to meet her own. They blinked then returned to settling back on the paper.

“What can I do for you Sevika?”

Sevika pushed off the doorframe she was leaning on and walked further into the office to stand beside Mel. Her knees bent until her bottom leaned onto the desk knowing the expensive wood would hold her up. Her fingers opened into a v to slide around her cigar and removed it from her mouth to blow out another puff.

“I cant visit the high and mighty Mel Medarda now?” Sevika bemoaned her eyebrow raising in a playfullness.

“Not when you are just here to be a disturbance.” Mel bit back.

Mel sat back in her chair her lithe legs crossing causing her thighs to grow in width. Sevikas eyes couldn’t help but wander down them before trailing up to her breast, they were smaller than her own but damn did they fit perfectly in her hands. She especially loved how they jolted when the woman before her took sharp gasp of breath while her hands scrambled to grip onto Sevikas short locks. To pull her closer. Her eyes went back up to meet hazel eyes that gazed at her expectantly. She lifted her cigar back up to her lips to inhale and her smirk reached her eyes.

“You topsiders get annoyed so easily, don’t you.” She leaned down before blowing smoke into Mels face.

Mels eyes narrowed suspiciously before her head tilted back somewhat, amusement in her own actions. Then with a quickness she snatched sevikas cigar and observed it as if she were making a decision. She placed it to her mouth and inhaled gently before blowing out once she removed it. She placed a delicate hand on her chest and let out a stream of coughs making Sevika throw her head back in laughter.

“Fuck-” Sevika snickered before continuing in laughter. “I should’ve taken you for what you are”

Mel glared while she put the cigar out in a failing triumph. She huffed rolling her eyes as she turned in her chair to better face the woman.

“Oh please, you couldn’t lead a horse to water” Mel shot back with a smirk while Sevika placed her arm on the back of Mels chair making it lean back but Sevikas face kept close to Mel.

“You dont look like a horse to me though?” Sevika grumbled both of her eyebrows raised, a teasing expression in her eyes.

Mel leaned closer her eyes gazing down at Sevikas lips before raising to meet her eyes. “But you do look very much like a stallion.”

Her finger raised and pushed the crudely cut stands back from the womans face before her nails clawed and dug into her scalp. Sevikas eyes grew lazy as they gazed at eachother.

“Big…strong…and so very stocky. Something I do enjoy to saddle up and ride.” Mel purred as her hand trailed down from the womans scalp, to her ear, then her jaw. Those curious fingers trailed down her neck before resting on her left shoulder.

Sevika felt as if she had been grabbed by an invisible leash as those foxy eyes fluttered up at her lashes curling beautifully over them. She felt drawn in. She leaned in closer, her eyes looking down at that deep pink lip, waiting to grasp it in between her teeth. However, before she could, a finger rose between them and her head was gently pushed back.

“What greed.” Her eyes just shat out pure amusement as she locked onto Sevika.

Sevikas lips curled back into a snarl, the blackened skin from her time spent smoking stretching as her teeth bared just slightly. “You little-“

“Fox?Minx?”

“Bitch” Sevika drawled out making the looped strand of Mels eyebrow tilt.

“My, what a vulgar word. Yet, I thought you only liked name calling during our…extracurricular activities, hm” Mel lifted her pen to her lips just resting the end on them while her chin sat beautifully on the tips of her nails.

Sevika bit back a groan at the suggestive movement. This damned woman knew just what buttons to push. She rolled her left shoulder, her cape covering up the fact there was no arm there, but it was a needed break from the soreness her straps caused and the chaffing she often struggled with when it came to placing her various different arms. Though, the different butters and creams the white and gold adorned woman provided her gave her so much relief during those times.

Why did any of that matter though? What mattered was how she reached her hand out to grasp Mels jaw making her pucker her lips for Sevika to claim. Mels pen was held down below their kissing lips and gasping breaths before clattering onto the desk. Mel reached her hands up to thread her fingers into ebony locks to pull the larger woman closer. Mouths open and closed in a heated battle as two breaths became one, desperate for air. Tongues lightly teased the other in a curious dance as they remapped their way.

Sevika pulled away panting as fierce eyes became doughy yet heated while they gazed down at the dark skinned beauty. A whimper erupted from Mel as she tried to follow behind Sevikas trail.

“I don’t want to be a disturbance.” Sevika mumbled playfully filling the space between them.

“Damn this work!” Mel almost roared out as she grabbed at Sevika and pulled her back into a kiss.

A small squeak exited her as she was suddenly lifted above the woman, ensuring that mel had to bend down to meet her lips. Sevika kept her eyes on Mel while darting away on occasion so she could safely walk them to their shared bedroom. Servants and alike kept their gaze away from Sevikas glare until they made it into the large creme filled room. She carelessly dropped Mel onto the bed with a smirk as she watched the woman rise up onto her elbows, her eyes glazed over.

“Go get your saddle Medarda.” That was all the woman had to say as she watched the usually Posh, prim and proper woman scramble across the bed. Maybe this is what that messiah guy felt. This power. Cause fuck was she going to enjoy ruining her golden fox tonight.

Next Part

Authors notes:

This is my first fanfiction ever so I am open to constructive criticism! Thanks for reading if you see this!

[darling2411]

A Bullet wound and a friendly stranger

Jason Todd x reader

word count: 1.2 K

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

"Damn it!" he groans in pain. How did this happen? Obviously someone shot him, but that never happened.

He is a trained killer. No one should be able to take a hit at him, he was gone before anyone could even notice him being there in the first place.

But the steady trip of crimson blood running down his arm left no doubt that he got hit, but how did someone find him?

It didn't matter he had to get his wound cleaned and he really had to leave the dark alley before someone found him in the company of two dead bodies.

The dark haired man stumbled out of the alley and into the busy streets of the city, leaving behind the death that he caused. It was as if he stepped into another world. The sun breaking through the thick clouds made the city's glass buildings shine as bright as  the stars in the night sky he was used to seeing. Jason was so blinded by the lights that he accidentally ran into an oncoming woman, who seemed to be deeply involved in the book she was holding. 

"Oh gosh I am so sorry" the beautiful girl states, "I wasn't paying attention at all, totally my fault." Her smile was even brighter than the city lights.

He saw her lips move but didn't hear the words they were forming. She had really pretty lips, and her eyes ,whoa her eyes were beyond beautiful, they were magnificent. Jason decided then and there that they were his new favourite sight.

"Are you alright?" she asked after he didn't react to her former statement.

"I´m sorry, I-", what was he supposed to say? Sorry that I didn't answer because I was too busy staring at your gorgeous face?, "I was lost in thought. Sorry that I bumped into you." why was he suddenly so nervous? He didn't get nervous.

"Like I said before, it was totally my fault." she said while taking him in. Her eyes widened when she noticed the blood dripping down his arm."Oh god you´re bleeding. Let me help you clean that up. That's the least I can do. My apartment isn't far."

"How could I deny a beautiful woman like yourself inviting me to her home?", he replied, a smirk playing on his perfectly kissable lips.

She was even more beautiful when she blushed and he loved that he made her.

"Come on."

The walk back to her place was quiet, filled with stolen glances and the occasional brush of his fingers against hers. He couldn’t stop seeking her presence.

"You can sit down wherever, I´m going to get some stuff to clean up that wound." she says while walking through the door, Jason close behind.

He decided to sit down at the kitchen table not wanting to get blood on her comfy looking couch.

Her apartment was full of life. Everywhere you looked  parts of her life were displayed.

Framed photos with family and friends, pictures of places she visited, books that adorned every place she could fit them. She was the exact opposite of him.

Where she was light he was dark, where she was joyful he was grumpy and where she was life he was death.

When the woman whose name Jason still didn't know returned he was reading in one of her books.

Had she been gone that long? Without him noticing she looked at him again really looked at him. Taking in his bulging biceps. His gorgeous face and soft looking hair. Then she realised what he was holding in his hands that looked so much bigger than hers.

"What are you doing?" she squeaked. He had opened one of the books that laid on her kitchen counter, she had just read it this morning and forgot to return it to it´s righteous place. He didn't think anything about it. Though it was a harmless romance novel, the titel `Twisted Games` definitely deceiving. This was not a simple little romance novel.

"Crawl to me " he was hooked from the very first words on the page he opened and then the spicy stuff came. He couldn't stop, he just wanted to read a few pages until the pretty woman returned but now? He couldn't put it down and additionally he was turned on.

"Don´t read that" she stomps over to him, her face flushed with embarrassment. As she glances at the page he is on her eyes widens and if possible she blushes even more."Oh god, why did you have to open that book at that page" she says more to herself than him. Is she ashamed? Huh.

"Why? Don´t want me knowing about the filthy things you read about?", Jason leans closer," Tell me pretty girl, do you only enjoy reading these things or do you also like to be treated that way?" His voice dropped and he could see her pulse quickening. Could hear her breath hitch. He was attuned to every little thing she did. Painfully aware of how close she was and how good she smelled. Vanilla and was that cherry? Whatever it was, it was intoxicating and it made him want to do filthy things to her. Things like the ones she reads about.

"I-"she stammers, "I think, uhm" she closes her eyes for a second, inhales and then opens them again to directly look at him ," I think I should take a look at your wound before it turns into something serious."

He watched her as she cut off the sleeves of the tight shirt he was wearing. Eyes widening when she saw the ugly flesh wound the bullet left. That was going  to leave a scar, another one in his collection. He felt incredibly stupid not to wear his red Hood suit and mask today.

"How did that happen", she asks him, concern evident in her voice and on her face.

"Don't worry about it, pretty girl." He didn't want her knowing who he was what he didn’t and he definitely couldn't let her in on his secret. That would surely cost him every chance he ever had at getting to know her better.

"[y/n]" she mumbles, hands busy disinfecting his wound. “Now you don’t have to keep calling me pretty girl.”

"[y/n] ." he tries out her name on his tongue. It sounded perfect. She also liked the way he said her name. As if he hadn't done anything else in his life. It sounded so familiar. “ I like calling you pretty girl”

"Does this hurt?" [y/n]  asks, instead of acknowledging what he said. 

"Not really"Should he hiss, act like it hurt? This little wound was nothing against everything else he had had to endure before. "I mean it burns and everything but it's not as bad as it looks."

"If you say so. I think you have a high pain tolerance. I'm sure I would be crying by now." she��laughs. Shit, why did she have to say that? Now he was thinking of her with tears streaming down her face but in a different setting.

Her body writhing under his, tears of overstimulation streaming down her face and her soft voice begging him to stop and keep going simultaneously. 

God what was she doing to him? He never reacted this way to anyone. He was always in control of his emotions, never really feeling anything. It was a part of the job. And [y/n] made him feel more in the half hour he spent with her than he felt in the last months of his life.

A weird feeling emerged in him. He wanted to feel more with her, wanted to keep her around. Needed to be around her. What was this indescribable feeling swelling deep in his chest? He did not know, but he would learn soon enough.

ⓘ This is my first time writing for Jason and I'm more of a Marvel girly so I dont know thaaat much about the DC Comic Universe, but I am trying my best😭

[linka-from-captain-planet]

Neve/Rana NSFW alphabet

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

They're still soaking up all the touch they can. Cuddling, backrubs, washing up, Neve wrapping Rana's hair up for her to get ready for bed. This is the time they're the most relaxed and the most chatty. They manage to enforce a no-cases-in-bed rule (unless it's really important ofc), so they catch up on their friends, what they're reading (The Lighthouse Book Club still lives and Rana got into Brom's and Bellara's serials), what they should get at the market tomorrow. This kind of comfort and being-together is hard-won, and once they're settled in, they want to savor it.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

You think Neve's wide-open collar exposing the gentle slopes of her chest and a tasteful hint of the weighty cling of her bra-freed breasts to her sternum is an accident? You think they highlight her elegant neck for no reason? You think her perfectly structured belt and suspenders show off her hourglass figure and make sure her perfect ass is crystal clear is for fun? No. Weep. Rana doesn't really have her own favorite on herself - probably her hair if that counts, or women have always liked her arms and shoulders (trained on the sword and bow - she hits all the muscle groups). On each other, Rana is not immune to propaganda. She is a boob woman and Neve's are her first stop every chance she gets, and she also likes Neve's belly and thighs. Neve loves Rana's back and ass; she likes to watch her hands stroke them and dig her painted nails into the muscle.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Rana loves taking Neve's strap, but it does make her squirt sometimes and she gets all bashful about it. Needless to say, Neve loooves it but manages not to tease her too hard (don't want to spook the kitty too much)

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

They're pretty clean, honestly. But they're also super private, so pretty much their entire sex life and their big feelings feels like a dirty secret (Rana more than Neve, since Rana is more reserved). Like whenever Taash and Harding come to visit, Neve and Rana are both white-knuckled hoping Taash won't be like "sniff sniff was someone eating ass in here 16.5 hours ago? nice" and Harding won't egg them on to talk about their ~love story~

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Both have had fewer partners than you'd think for such hot, interesting people - single digits, most likely. Neither made it a priority, plus Neve is cagey and afraid of intimacy and knows she's a feelings-catcher, and Rana has spent her entire adult life in a homophobic religious organization. They've each had short-term relationships and flings and one-night stands, but mostly they've just powered through romantic loneliness and handled their sexual needs by masturbating, ignoring it, or looking for a hookup. But sex isn't rocket science and they're confident, sensitive, and determined, so they definitely know what they're doing.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

We've got the blessed top-leaning-switch (Neve)/bottom-leaning-switch (Rana) setup. They like to take advantage of every configuration and surface possible, but if they had to pick an all-time favorite: it's gotta be Neve with the strap-on taking Rana from behind. Doggy, side spoons, bent over the desk, Rana's face in the pillows with her braid wrapped around Neve's fist, what have you. It's a lot of body contact, optional eye contact (they can get self-conscious), hits the best spots, satisfies each of their particular I Must Be The Goodest Girl Or Else urges. When Neve wants to receive, straddling Rana's lap is her favorite, riding her fingers or the taking her turn on the strap. Generally, Neve wants to be physically on top whether she's giving or receiving; she can feel too vulnerable or stifled on the bottom. Once she's more comfortable with Rana, she doesn't mind as much - and she comes to love the feeling of bigger, heavier Rana covering her body, making her feel safe - but she still prefers her top positions.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

They're dead serious honestly lol. They do a lot of teasing and ribbing, but "goofy"? Not really. If they're laughing in bed, it's probably because one of them landed a really good dunk on the other.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Neve presents a very tidy image, but she's as good as faking it as she is actually maintaining it. When she's got her head and heart wrapped up in a case, she lets some things fall by the wayside. She'll skip a shower or two, but will always fix her nails as soon as she can. She never skips caring for her skin under her prosthesis, but she sleeps in her makeup as often as not. When she gives herself enough time, she *luxuriates* in the bath. If she feels like shaving (anything), she'll shave and occasionally she does just to mix it up (something she can control, just for herself), but she has sensitive skin and prefers to avoid it to avoid irritation. She trims her pubic hair, but does a shitty job of it such that Rana eventually snaps and takes it over to do it right. Because Rana is Fussy. She is mani-pedi'd, exfoliated, moisturized, perfumed, coiffed, moisturized again, 24/7. A Thedan equivalent to a Tide pen is on her person at all times. She complains endlessly when Neve drags her into the gross catacombs or explodes a Venatori and gets her hair dirty because it fucks up her wash cycle. For her, it's about self-respect and self-control, and even self-expression - she was a Clean Templar, and now she's a clean dick ahaha detective. If there were a strong societal pressure for women to remove their body hair, she probably would since she's not one to defy The Rules willy-nilly, but I can't imagine why that'd be case. She's naturally not very hairy so she doesn't think much about it, but she meticulously trims her pubic hair (and Neve's) because she find it the most comfortable.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

They're weird about it at first as one might expect. They already have the trust, they understand the feelings are there (even if it takes them a long time to explicitly verbalize them); it's just a matter of getting over the awkward this-is-new hump. Fortunately, sex is an opportunity to do, rather than say, so it's faster-going than their feelings-talking. Little ways of caring for one another through touch had already creeped into their habits - checking each other for injuries, scraping the other off the pavement when the battle's over; gradually, touching hands when there's no reason to, gently guiding the other through a narrow alley with a hand on the lower back. So it's just a matter of bringing that to the bedroom. The first kiss on the cheek in the afterglow initially feels a little awkward, more intimate than the literal sex they'd just had. The first time Rana brings Neve a washcloth to freshen up a bit so she doesn't have to get out of bed, she spends the whole night agonizing over how touched she felt by a little gesture. The little things do add up, and it's not too long before they feel more comfortable acting romantic in the bedroom.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

No-nonsense types - get off, get back to it. They never gave themselves the chance to develop a more pleasing routine; Neve tried to avoid being home generally to avoid The Horrors (any of her feelings), and Rana was self-conscious living in the Templar quarters (what if someone heard? smelled it? better get it done and wash up fast).

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

The first thing I'm mentally establishing when I explore a new ship is which one is the armpit sniffer and which one likes anal more, which is sort of like my smut version of astrology. Neve/Rana could really go either way, but ultimately Rana is the sniffer and Neve is the anal enjoyer. Firstly, armpits are next to the boobs and Rana is a boob gal, so there's a primal wire there to be crossed there that extrapolates the eroticism of one to the other (Rana would find this embarrassing which is part of the appeal also). Secondly, scent is intimacy and trust. If Rana awakens with Neve safe and secure in her arms, bathed in that light musk of a long night's sleep in a body-warm bed, would she not want to nuzzle right on in? She would and that's why she's the sniffer. Neve gets anal because even though Rana being too uptight is part of their long-term conflict, it's Neve who's really tortured by her neuroticism (anal-retentiveness, if you will). Anal play is a very commanding sex act that requires patience, care, and relaxing, so can be a big relief for someone so high-strung. Also she has a great ass. It starts with Rana slipping her a finger while going down, and they explore more after Neve finally admits she likes it. Also, Neve also likes using simple restraints on Rana - just commands (hands on the headboard, or she'll stop), her ascot, a shirt. Rana finds submission relaxing, so she's glad to play along even though she's much stronger than Neve and could easily overpower her if she wanted to (this too is kink). She's never let anyone pull her braid before, but once she lets Neve do it once, she can't get enough. Neve's ice and time magic comes into play here and there, of course.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Can't beat the comfort and convenience of the bed, especially since Rana springs for a full-size one when she moves to the Tallow in their quasi-together-quasi-not phase (Neve teases her about this for weeks - planning something, Savas?) and also especially since they tend to overwork themselves and come home too tired and sore to bang on the desk. That said, their desk, and Neve's desk in the Lighthouse, are their second favorite when they're feeling squirrely.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Big brains. The other is never sexier than when she's thinking deeply, processing evidence, tabulating every possibility. And they love how they stand up to everyone else, including each other. Neve's status as a swaggering local menace gets Rana so hot, and she'll let Neve cajole her and push her around a bit, but Neve loves it when Rana turns the tables. They both also love a little rough-housing - a little manhandling, a little wrasslin. They're both tactile and physical.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

They're both a little skittish and rely a lot on the other for emotional support, so anything that plays with that - degradation, name calling, restraining then leaving them alone, etc - doesn't work for them. They're also exposed to enough real violence, and seen each other hurt enough, to not want to simulate anything of the sort in bed - a saucy smack on the ass is one thing, striking the other with an instrument, choking, brandishing knives, and so on is another. Some people can reconcile those experiences, they can't.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Neve initially prefers to give because she finds receiving more vulnerable; if they're scrappin a bit and she winds up riding Rana's face, that's one thing, but just laying back and letting Rana pamper her? It takes a while to warm up to that. But once she does... it helps that Rana really, really loves eating her out. Look at those lips, that jaw... behold her endless dedication, her commitment to a job well done, her fussiness. She's ON it. Rana likes receiving just fine, but it doesn't compare to snuggling down between the soft thighs she loves so much and digging in.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

They lean slower. Not that they don't still love their quickies (they got shit to do) or enjoy throwing the other on the desk and hair-pulling back-scratching ass-smacking capital-F-Fucking, but they live a lot of their life pretty fast, and it's nice to have something more indulgent at home.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Quickies have long been their bread and butter with other people - if they're just hooking up to blow off some steam, they want to get it done and hit the bricks. At the beginning of their relationship, it helps them trick themselves into thinking they're easing in emotionally (fake news). Even later when they're more comfortably established, the quickie remains a part of any workaholic's sexual life. It's sorta a relief that they can now just have sex about it when they get under each other's skin mid-case and get back to it

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Experiment, yes - risks, not really, no. They're by definition curious women, so when one of them gets an idea, the other is probably excited to try it out. Are they the most creative and kinky couple? Probably not, but they find themselves a variety of things to do. But as far as risk goes (getting caught in public? not preparing properly? not using protection when they should?), neither of them is a thrill-seeker like that. They took enough risks thwarting the end of the world, they don't need to get kicks from risking getting arrested over some alleyway ass.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Neve is out there cross-country parkouring all of Northern Thedas without losing her breath, Rana is right behind her. They can fuck as long as they want. They're looking to connect, feel good, and relax, so they take the time they need to achieve that. Sometimes, 30 minutes and a snack after is perfect. Sometimes, it's a marathon session riding the high of a slam-dunk case. Sometimes, it's a languid morning in bed where it's not clear if they actually "had sex" but they're both glowing and full-hearted after it. Whatever they're feeling that day, they have the stamina to do it.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Neve had a single dildo for personal use (she likes the feeling of fullness, even if she isn't always comfortable bottoming), but otherwise, neither of them had toys until they were together. Rana wasn't willing to bring such a thing into the Templar quarters, and also they're both chronically broke. They'd used pretty basic toys (strap-ons, vibrators, maybe simple restraints) with other partners who had them, but otherwise, they're used to using what the Maker gave them. Which for Neve, includes magic. Once they're together, and the city's made it through the aftermath of endgame, Neve goads Rana into attending the grand opening of the city's first non-black-market sex shop (thanks Archon Mae/Dorian!) and they get themselves a few things to start. Neve especially had been dying to get her hands on a strap-on.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Neve LOVES to tease - mostly out of bed. It's a big part of their long-term foreplay. Rana doesn't have enough game to pull off the same kind of teasing, but once they're in bed, she knows how to keep Neve on her toes. Neither of them likes to be strung along for too long, but they give each other a little affectionate shit before giving in.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Both are pretty quiet. Neve can be pretty self-conscious, but we've all heard her kiss-whimpers. She can't help herself. She makes a lot of quiet little sounds - some of them embarrassingly high-pitched, but she can't help it. Rana is a heavy-breather, soft-grunter, quiet-groaner. Rana doesn't talk a lot in bed- little encouraging phrases, quick requests, sure, but she'd feel awkward trying to like, dirty talk. Neve, when she's totally in control, has that part down pat, purring and growling.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Neve's first kiss, first girlfriend, and first time were all with the Little Oil Lamp Girl. They were latter teens, and that girl was the only thing that felt like it made sense as Neve's whole world was changing around her. It didn't burn forever - maybe that was her fault, the cynicism seeping in then, but it sure was nice while it lasted. Rana's first kiss and first time were with a guy she tried to like to please her parents. He was her friend and a nice kid, just proof she'd never measure up to the expectations, so it's a bittersweet memory. She ran away to join the Templars shortly after.

If Minrathous had a The Cart, they'd have at least 3 connections they didn't know about, one of which is definitely the Sexy Bartender From The Prologue.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Even though we only get a tiny glimpse of it, Neve's body in-game is perfect for her IMO. She's dainty, but not too thin or frail-looking. She's got a bit of muscle (her arms!), but you know she's no gym rat and she mostly eats fried fish so of course she doesn't look like an Olympic gymnast. Her belly and thighs look SO!! soft and pettable. Her model doesn't quite do her supposed height justice (around 5'8"), although some gifs of her stradding Rook capture that vibe very sexily and her hourglass figure is poppin. Her thighs and ass are A+++ Rana's a little taller; she's as tall as the "100" height for a human feminine body, so I'm guessing around 6 feet tall. Hot! She was maybe lightly retconned from a warrior in Tevinter Nights to a rogue in Veilguard, so that throws off my original body headcanon a bit (but that was just based on her description of wielding a sword and wearing heavy armor - and the Veilguard rogue does use a sword, so maybe she's been a rogue all along). She's beefier than Neve, but still pretty willowy, like a track and field athlete. Her arms and back are well-defined and being a good swordswoman comes with a juicy ass.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Pretty average? They've been emotionally entangled for so long before actually getting together that they don't have a big must-fuck-at-every-opportunity honeymoon period. While they're busting ass helping rebuild Minrathous or stuck on a big case that hangs over their minds, they have sex less - they might skip a week or two and prioritize non-sexual intimacy and touch when they can find a few quiet hours together. When they have less on their minds and things settle down, they go with the flow. It might be twice a day, every night, every other, twice a week. So it goes.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

They're sleep-deprived workaholics, so once those good good afterglow hormones hit the bloodstream, they both knock out pretty quickly. Sometimes basically still in position, resulting in some pleasant or not soreness the next day. If they're going to bed, Rana at least still wants to do her nighttime routine, so she can stay awake long enough for that.

[dreamswritten]

English is not a language I handle perfectly, I apologize in advance if there are any grammatical or spelling mistakes, you are free to correct me.

Giyuu has been given a few days off from his missions, and what better way to enjoy them together with his beloved wife. The pillar of Water thanked Mr. Ubuyashiki deeply when he gave him the news. Now, under the first rays of the sun, he heads to the farm with an unusual calm and a barely perceptible smile.

Mornings were usually too short for him; he used to get up first while his wife curled up on the empty side of the futon. He would go to the washroom to wash up and then return to the bedroom to leave a gentle kiss on her forehead before leaving. But now, he feels blissful: he can stay cuddling her for hours, watching her calm breathing and how peace is drawn on her face as she sleeps.

He smiles and gently plays with a few strands of her hair that fall softly over her face. He settles closer to her, closes his blue eyes and allows himself the luxury of lingering a few more minutes, resting in her warmth. When he opens his eyes again, he finds her awake, looking up at him with a wide, sweet smile. That smile, so bright and sincere, makes Giyuu's heart beat fast. Without thinking, he raises a hand and rests his palm on her cheek, caressing it tenderly.

—You are beautiful.

The young woman's cheeks are tinged a soft shade of pink as she covers herself with the blankets of the futon, shyly peeking out her face and returning a warm, sweet smile. The black-haired man remains at her side, playing with a few strands of hair; the sparkle in his blue eyes reflect the immense love he feels for her. He can't help but lean over and place a soft kiss on her forehead before whispering.

—Would you like to go out today? I want us to spend the day together, carefree.

The proposal takes his wife by surprise, but her smile only widens.

—Where will we go? —she asks, letting out a small sigh of happiness.

—Wherever you want. But I thought we could walk around town. Maybe have a bite to eat at that restaurant you told me about.

She nods excitedly, and they both get up to prepare for the day. As they walk together down the quiet street of the village. Giyuu keeps his hand entwined with hers, something he doesn't do often, but on these off days it seems as natural to him as breathing.

The sun was at its highest point when they arrived at the restaurant. It was a cozy place, with wooden tables and a delicious aroma that enveloped them as soon as they crossed the noren curtain. They settled at a table by the window, enjoying the view of passersby and the fresh air coming in through the small opening.

As they waited for the food Giyuu ordered for both of them, laughter and familiar voices brought them out of their bubble of quiet and intimacy. Tomioka looks up just in time to see Mitsuri and Obanai entering the restaurant, followed by Sanemi, Tengen and Kyojuro.

—Tomioka! —Mitsuri exclaimed, waving a hand excitedly at the sight of him.

She blushed slightly under the curious gaze of the other pillars, but Giyuu didn't pull his hand away from hers. Instead, he gave her a calm, comforting look before nodding towards the others.

—She is my wife —he said with his characteristic serious tone, but his words carried an obvious pride.

Mitsuri let out a gasp of excitement, running over to the table and taking the young woman's hands in his.

—You're so cute! Why didn't you introduce us before?

—Because it was none of your business —Giyuu replied, but his comment was drowned out by Tengen's laughter.

—Wow, Tomioka, you really had it in for him! I thought you were the dullest of us, but it turned out you were hiding a beauty.

Kyojuro nodded with his characteristic energy.

—It's a pleasure to meet you! Giyuu never told us about you, but now I understand why. He must be completely enthralled!

The rest of the pillars end up settling around their table, asking questions and sharing stories amidst laughter and jokes. Although Giyuu seemed a little overwhelmed at first, he didn't let go of his wife's hand or stop looking at her tenderly as she joined in the conversation.

By the time lunch arrived, even Sanemi had softened her attitude, making an effort not to intimidate her with her gruff character. By the end of the day, she felt like part of their quirky little family, and Giyuu couldn't have been more grateful to have had the opportunity to introduce her to the other pillars in such a warm atmosphere.

When they finally said their goodbyes and returned home, she gently squeezed Giyuu's hand as they walked.

—They are very nice. Now I understand why you appreciate them so much.

Giyuu glanced sideways at her, allowing himself a small smile.

—They like you too now. But, to me, you will always be the most important thing.

The words made her pause for a moment, looking at him with surprise and love in her eyes.

—And you to me —she murmured, before rising on tiptoe to kiss him softly.

That afternoon closed with the promise of more days like this one: full of laughter, warmth and the certainty that their love was the center of their world.

[lead-to-light]

whisper, we all know your a good shot, but I have a real test for you.

Shoot an apple off of Surges head, William Tell style. without missing.

"And you're trusting me to do this?" Whisper asked, watching the tenrec toss the apple up and down.

"Well if you hit me, You have two options admit you hit me on purpose and deal with everyone being mad at you or admit that you're a crappy shot. The way I see it, I'm perfectly safe," Surge said with a toothy grin.

Whisper didn't have a counter for that. Truthfully, she still didn't know what to think when Surge approached her for what she calls a 'trust building exercise.' No doubt the woman had read about the classic trickshot in a book, Surge being turning into an avid reader was not on her bingo card, and wanted to try it out for shits and giggles.

Deciding to appreciate the roundabout olive branch, Whisper had Cyan enter the wispon and took aim, "Okay put the apple on your head."

Surge moved to place the but realized something, "Pfft wait hold on this'll only work if I let my quills down." Taking her hairband off, her long quills cascaded down, allowing her to place the apple on her head. "Now I'm ready," Surge said with a soft smile, secretly very excited.

Looking down the scope at the tenrec, Whisper took a moment to take Surge in and was having trouble reconciling this woman being the same angry destructive menace she first meet a few months ago. She looked so…..content right now. With her quills down and happy smile, Whisper was forced to admit something.

"I can kinda see what Lanolin sees in her now," Whisper said quietly to herself as she began pulling the trigger.

Not quietly enough apparently as Surge shouted, "LANOLIN SEES WHAT IN ME!?"

The shout startled Whisper, throwing off her aim at the worst possible moment.

BANG!

A split second sickening squelch sounded out as the shot took out Surge’s right eye.

Dropping the wispon, Whisper shouted in complete horror, "SURGE OH MY GOD I'M SO SORRY-"

Before she knew it Surge was upon her. But instead of a well justified beatdown, Surge had a completely different priority, "WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY ABOUT LANOLIN SEEING SOMETHING IN ME!?"

"SURGE YOUR EYE! WE NEED TO GET YOU TO THE INFIRMARY!" Whisper was not enjoying seeing the bloody cybernetic insides of her skull.

"I'LL WALK IT OFF! NOW TELL ME!"

Watching her face slowly knit itself back together surprisingly did little to calm Whisper down, "FOR GODS SAKE SURGE-"

"PLEASE WHISPER!"

It's those two words that got her to calm down and shift her gaze rightwards. Plain vulnerable desperation was clear as day in her intact eye. Taking a deep breath, Whisper got her thoughts in order, "Okay I'll tell you. But first you have to put me down."

Surge was leaning them both over so far they were perpendicular to the ground, Whisper impressively ignoring the blood dripping onto her face from Surge’s gaping head wound.

"Sure sure," Surge acquiesced, setting her down gently. A few seconds later both women were sitting on the ground facing each other. "So?" Surge asked softly.

"So when Tangle and I got wine drunk and hired the chaotix to investigate something about Lanolin, the thing we asked them to investigate was who she had a crush on. Vector and Espio purposefully spilled beans in front of the three of us and she confirmed it while she was yelling at us," Whisper explained.

I'm not gonna tell her it's full on love. I'm not taking that away from either of them.

A short life of made up of mostly agony trained her not to grab hope so zealously, "Really? You're not lying are you?" Surge said carefully.

Looking dead in the eye, Whisper said firmly, "Surge, listen to me. I know we do not have the best relationship but I would never NEVER do something as cruel as lie to you here. You are without a doubt the most important person in her life."

"She feels the same way about me the way I feel about her?" Surge said, somehow still able to blush despite the blood loss.

Oh

It was one thing to heavily suspect it but confirming it was another thing. How could two people so different love each other?

Well I suppose that's a silly question coming from me of all people.

"Positive," Whisper said, putting a reassuring hand on her shoulder. The tenrec stiffened and Whisper worried she had overstepped her bounds when Surge wrapped her in a hug and began sobbing into her shoulder.

"T-t-thank y-you," Surge stuttered out, staining her cloak with blood and tears

Once over her shock, Whisper hugged her back. Gently rubbing circles on her back and patting her shoulder. Letting her know she was safe to cry happy relieved tears as long as she wanted. It was during this that Whisper recalled something.

What was it that Claire said once? History doesn't repeat itself but it does rhyme

[22degreehalo]

Ahhhhhhhhh when I spend half an hour folding dumplings with my mum and come out so tense I need to close myself in my room until I can start breathing normally again 💖

[mswyrr]

When Rhaenys was still alive, Steve Toussaint played Corlys as such a vibrant older man. Someone still striving and full of the joy of living, even in dark moments. Their interplay, him and Eve Best as Rhaenys, was a delight. For all their flaws as characters, and the wrong he did her and his sons Alyn and Addam, they had one of the rare true love marriages in Westeros.

They even endured the loss of their children, something that often breaks marriages, and still loved each other so much.

But now Toussaint, himself still a clearly very energetic and commanding presence irl at age 59, is playing Corlys as hollowed out. The life inside him all left with Rhaenys. He looks weary down to his very bones. He made his grand ship, once named for his own glory, hers. And in many ways, he himself is living just to be hers. To turn all he built for her into a funeral pyre for the cause she felt worth dying for.

As their granddaughter put it:

I adore love stories, including tragic ones. And what Toussaint is doing now--and the chemistry he and Best played when Rhaenys was alive-- is a master class in acting and fits perfectly with the wide array we see of the fallout of war and all the ways it breaks people. He and Rhaenys should have gotten to continue growing old together and died in peace together, surrounded by all the glory and comfort he had won for her. Instead he will spend it all, and all the strength he has left, in her name.