#ro 3

[nadiacattaneo]

When: 17th April 2023 Where: Nadia’s ship Who: @rohawkins​

Nadia loved her crew, as much as she didn’t show it. They were idiots, but they were family, the only family she had. They trusted her to lead them and look out for them, just as she trusted them for the same in return. They wouldn’t be able to successfully do what they did if it weren’t the case. And they ran a damn good ship if she said so. But sometimes, a regular occurrence of at least once a week, she needed time to herself. If she didn’t stay behind, lavishing in a hundred old bottle of wine and some silence whilst her crew took Port Grave, then the men she considered family may end up on the wrong end of her sword.

That night was one of those nights, and clad in her most luxurious pyjamas she was watching a guilty pleasure, truffle woodfire pizza open and bottle of wine cracked on her bedside table. Robbins, the only other creature currently on the ship, was curled up next to her. She was even considering a facemask. That was until she heard footsteps on the deck. It was way too early for any of her crew to be back.

Some women may feel unsafe in that instance, but Nadia rarely felt fear. She simply stood, grabbing her knife off the table and moved to open the door. The intruder was none the wiser, and Nadia’s lips curled up in amusement as she called out, “If I didn’t know any better I’d think you’re trying to steal something off my ship, the way you’re skulking around.”

[xitsensunmoon]

Moon is getting on his nerves always

[l3viat8an]

You can never tell Mammon you’re cold because he can’t act fucking normal for five minutes- rather then giving you his jacket he tries to zip you in with him, telling you to put your arms in the sleeves with his and that his body heat will keep you warmer anyway :)

[eyeofthenewt1]

druid romance :3

[munchboxart]

Happy Little Workers comic Awareness

[abneyart]

"I want it to be perfect–to bond with you in the way that gods do…intertwining our spirits in visions of the Weave." "I don’t need illusions. I want the Gale standing right in front of me."

(uncropped on patreon💖)

[teal-tealwren]

coming up for air

[roseblog-rog]

I Guess I Do Belong in the Woman’s Room.

It’s always a scary endeavor: going into a public restroom as a trans person. There’s always that fear of being outed or shunned or screamed at or punished or SOMETHING. So many risks, all for pissing. But I digress, I have no time to worry due to how badly I have to go.

I enter the woman’s room to find a group of five girls doing makeup in the long mirror which spans the whole bathroom, lined with sinks and soap dispensers. The floor is white with recently cleaned tiles, the gray stalls packed together on the opposite side. The walls are a soft shade of pink that almost feels…comforting. Inviting.

Though no other people aside from the group appear to be in here, I move quick. I swiftly and quietly do my business and exit the stall to wash my hands, moving to the opposide side away from the group of girls, who are now giggling and applying their different colored lipstick. They’re all really fucking pretty, and I feel a warm blush creep up onto my face. I pray their laughter has nothing to do with me. That hope is short lived, however, as one of them—the one with red lips—speaks in a deep airy voice once I finish washing my hands.

“Hey girl, your fly is still open.”

Shit. Well that’s embarrassing. I nod and quickly fiddle with my zipper. I must’ve forgotten to zip it up after buttoning my pants with how much I was rushing to leave. Hopefully they didn’t notice my—

The one with pink lips speaks now, her voice being much higher and softer. “I’m sorry…but is that a bulge?”

Fuck. Now all five girls are glancing down at the bulge in my jeans. It looks so much more obvious in this new light. My face goes completely red.

“No! No. I uh…uhm…” I struggle to formulate an excuse, voice on the verge of cracking with how high and feminine I’m trying to make it combined with the tears starting to form my eyes. My worst fears were being realized, and the most embarrassing part is my gock begins twitching from all the attention.

Red chuckes and speaks again. “Hey, don’t worry girl. In case you haven’t noticed you’re not the only one packing here.”

The blunt response startles me, but with the invitation to look I now notice that all five of them also have bulges, though theirs are much harder than mine, which makes me shiver from…something.

“We didn’t mean to startle you.” Purple speaks in a rough, bright voice, elbowing Pink, who looks down in shame. “We were just, well,” she glances back down at my crotch and smirks “curious.”

“Yeah, sorry for the scary question. We get how it can be in public restrooms.” Pink looks incredibly guilty.

“Haha…yeah, sorry. I didn’t mean to get so startled.” My voice settles in it’s natural state, which is still fairly feminine, though deep enough to warrant ‘suspicion’. The blush slowly fades from my face, the tears subside and my breath levels. I’m safe.

“Though I have to ask…why were you so afraid? You belong in here just like anyone else.” Blue pipes in with her quiet and monotone voice, raising an eyebrow at me.

I itch to leave, but something about the group is so comforting and intriguing that I endulge their curiosity. “Well…not really. I mean, I’m at a point in my transition where I’m much more feminine……” I trail off.

“But..?” Purple prompts.

“But I’m still so tall and lanky, my voice is deep, my stubble is annoyingly apparent…I guess I don’t feel pretty enough to be in here comfortably.”

The last member of the group, Orange, walks forward towards me at this response, clearly checking me out. I fidget in place as she gets closer. She’s taller than me, just an inch or two, but still noticeable as I slightly tilt my head up to look at her face. She’s beautiful. Her voice is so silky smooth it brings my blush right back onto my face.

“I think you’re pretty.”

I look down at the ground, my blush reaching embarrassing levels of red. I blush way too easily. “Thank you, uh, I think you’re pretty too.” I notice just how much my voice wobbles, whether it be from embarrassment or being so flustered.

Orange lifts her right hand up to my chin, using her pointer finger to gently lift my face back up to meet her gaze. I twitch again, ugh. “I mean it, how could you think you aren’t pretty enough to be here?”

She turns my body to face the mirror, and I really look at myself: my red and freckled face, my long blonde hair, my wide hips, my bulked up arms, my boobs…everything. Orange stands right behind me, softly smiling as she moves her hands down my waist. It feels so fucking good, I’ve always been so sensitive to touch…but…

“W..wait! I barely know you.” I stutter out as I move away from her. My hardening gock betrays my sentiment, but I ignore it.

Orange’s gaze softens. “That’s okay…forgive me for being so forward.” She glances down. “Though it seems like someone wants more.”

My face feels so hot I think I might just die. I can barely even get any words out, just mindless stutters. The only word I manage to speak before my mind completely blanks is “Please.”

Orange’s gaze darkens with a smirk. “Girls! Let’s help her realize just how pretty she is.”

The five of them now crowd around me, moving me so I once again face the mirror. I’m shaking, my now fully erect gock starting to drip as Red lifts my shirt off of me. Pink goes to undo my jean button and zipper while Black pulls them down. Blue undoes my bra while Orange once again begins feeling up my now exposed body. Despite the circumstances it feels so…freeing. So beautiful and—oh FUCK.

Red begins to kiss just above my right breast, leaving a very obvious lipstick mark. The five of them grin so simultaneously it’s almost terrifying. Almost. They all begin feeling me up while kissing me with their multicolored lips. I’m moaning and whimpering so much at this point that one of them exclaims “Looks like someone’s a noisemaker. She’s adorable!” However, my mind is so fuzzy and warm at this point that I can’t even tell who says it.

They’re pressed so closely against my shaking frame that it’s impossible for me to fall to my knees despite my wobbling. I can feel their hot bodies against mine, hear their heavy breathing as we all start to sweat. My skin begins to be covered with red and pink and purple and blue and orange. Little reminders of this wonderful group.

Soon enough one of them pulls my panties down and immediately makes an excited noise at my hard, dripping gock. “Holy shit! You’re gorgeous!” I then feel the now familiar sensation of a mouth being closed around it, a tongue starting to feel around it, and this earns several loud moans. The kisses from the other four girls get rougher and more sensual: sucking and biting and licking all over my quivering frame.

I feel bliss, seeing my naked body being marked and used and sucked by all these women, and I start to feel so beautiful. I notice the clear markings and lip stains…but I also notice my soft skin and nice curves and all the little things I don’t usually stop to look at. I notice how pretty and shiny my gock is, as each girl takes turns sucking on it.

I feel everything. There’s so much stimulus that I start shaking harder and moaning even more. I can barely hold myself up, but one of them is clutching me tightly by the hips to keep me from falling. “I want you to say how pretty you are.” Of course. Who am I to deny her?

“I’m pretty.” I barely get the words out.

“Again. Say it like you mean it.”

I feel myself teetering on the edge of an orgasm, a rare sensation for me with how far my transition is. I’m now completely coated in multicolored lips and bite marks and hickeys and various fluids. It’s…well, it’s pretty.

“I’m pretty!” I shout it this time, staring myself down in the mirror.

“One more time, you’re doing so good.”

“I’m pretty! I’m so fucking pretty!” I lock eyes with myself as I cum into whoever’s mouth is sucking me. I’m breathing so heavily I’m almost afraid for my safety…but these women are here for me. I’m okay.

They help me sit down and crowd closely around me, the scent of our sweat and their makeup becoming much more apparent. It’s all so wonderful and safe and relaxing that my eyes start to shut as they coddle me and play with my hair.

“It’s okay baby, you can rest.”

The last thought running through my mind is how pretty I am before I fade out of consciousness.

~~~

MY FIRST TIME WRITING SMUT WOAG!!! Because this is such a momentous occasion and I am so awesome, @xenasaur @lilithtransrights enjoy my cool lil thing.

[bugspray333]

new zam design everyone clap

[allurandy]

the only hope for me is you

characters Ro and Isi created by @bevsi and her wife! can't wait for the comic to come out 💖🎸🎤✨

[ambivartence]

hanbin sketch / lighting study

[shinysobi]

the kiss (aka that one scene) and subsequently—

*spoilers for bridgerton s3*

ahem...this might be a bit indelicate? Let us think about who Colin is, at his core. he is a dreamer. he's sweet, he's kind to a fault, and he's also the Bridgerton brother most likely to have ao3 in the 21st century.

Penelope asks for a kiss, and Colin cannot deny her that. so much of their relationship is evinced by the fact that they cannot deny each other anything, even if it is at the expense of their own well-being. Penelope has never once voiced her feelings for Colin because she is aware that he would never see her in such a light, and mostly because, she does not think that her feelings are his business. In the books and in the show, Penelope has never voiced her crush.

So, when she's facing the very real prospects of remaining a spinster and firmly under the influence of her mother and sister (Prudence, especially, I don't really think Phillipa would be that bad) she makes a choice to ask the love of her life, mind you, the one man she had always felt safe with, to kiss her. She is waving goodbye to the dreams of being married, finding a place of her own in a world where a woman had no value if they were not attached in matrimony to a man. Yes, it seems pathetic, yes, it seems desperate. It is. It is desperate. Penelope is desperate at this moment, and she is reckless, but she is not pathetic. She wants to be kissed, and she asks for it, it is a moment where we see a woman exercise agency for the first time in her life. Feelings are so very rarely black or white, and so is this scene; on one hand, you feel wronged and angry at the fact that Penelope is pleading for a kiss, on the other, you empathize with her situation and where she is coming from. She wants this moment, and who better to ask from, than her best friend? Colin has always, always been there for her, and she has been there for him. They know each other the best, she has had the privilege of being able to love him. She wants love, and she has it in her hands at this moment, a fleeting, transient glimpse into what her life could be if she were someone else. This is the moment when Penelope Featherington's dreams are well and truly shattered.

And that same kiss turns Colin's world on its axis. It is so wonderful to see on screen how the same action can have two entirely opposite, but just as important effects on people. Colin has always loved Penelope. This is not even a discussion. He took action on behalf of her family (on behalf of her, really) when he found out about her cousin's schemes. He gives Cressida the cut direct when she humiliates Penelope in front of him. He seeks her out at every social assembly. He has always looked out for her and has always loved her. But all this is platonic. He has never felt a physical connection with her, because neither of them has had the chance to explore that avenue. Neither Colin nor Penelope are aware of their latent attraction to each other. For Penelope, it is because she has never been allowed to feel a physical connection with anyone, and Colin because he has never thought of pursuing a physical connection with Penelope. It is their kiss that ultimately awakens that connection in Colin, and by connection, Penelope asking Colin for a kiss is what puts the wheels in motion.

Which brings me to the first paragraph. Colin is the sweetest boy in the Bridgerton family (Gregory I love you, but nine children? Get off that woman, immediately). When he realizes that he likes Penelope, and loves her romantically, what does he do? He internalizes it like he does everything else. So much of Colin's character arc, both in the book and in the show is about him internalizing everything. He refuses to voice his own feelings if they make other people uncomfortable, much to the detriment of his own mental health. After being deceived in the first season, he removes himself from London because he cannot bear to stay in the city anymore, not when he is reminded of how naive and stupid he was, every moment. It is also important to realize that Colin has been viewed as the naive, soft-hearted brother, by everyone else. When he gets engaged in season 1, Anthony, his big brother, the example he is supposed to follow, tells him that he should have taken Colin to brothels and accuses him of getting married to have sex. In season two, Penelope, an outsider, is the only person who gives a damn about his thoughts. His own family refuses to listen to him, and what does he do when he returns a second time? He tells them, "I shall not bore you with the details". He knows, no one essentially gives a shit. This is why, when he comes to the knowledge of the full breadth of his feelings for Penelope, he internalizes so hard he dreams of her. And this is not an indelicate dream. He does not dream of taking her in the back of a carriage or on his yellow sheets, he dreams of her returning his feelings. He is yet unaware of the extent of Penelope's feelings toward him, but he knows he should not force his feelings onto her, and that is why he dreams of her.

I could go on and on about why Colin is the best Bridgerton brother (Gregory, nine children) but it will take up a lot of space, so I shall keep it brief: (in the show) Anthony almost marries Edwina, a girl who is what, thirteen(?) twelve (?) years younger than him, a girl who has no safety net outside of her sister and her mother, her sister whom Anthony was in love with, and refused to confront his feelings for. Literally, no one forced Anthony to propose to Edwina, he went down on one knee while being aware of his feelings for her older sister. Kate would have been content with relinquishing her younger sister to a marriage where she loved someone who would forever love another. Imagine if Anthony had married Edwina as he intended. Do you think, for even a second, that he would look at her face and not be reminded of Kate? Not to mention neither of them took action till the very last second, and Edwina, a bystander, was forced to ruin herself. Half the reason why she married abroad is the fact that not a single person in London would have married her (headcanon: she marries the Prince, fuck you, Anthony) when she was very publicly denigrated as the Viscount Bridgerton's cast-off. Yes, the Queen's favor saves Anthony and Kate's marriage from scandal, but it also saves Edwina, it saves her from further public embarrassment and scrutiny by a ton that not only views her as an outsider but also envies her for securing the title of the Season's Diamond. (Book)Benedict forces a woman from a servant class to be his mistress while he searches for the girl he fancied to be the love of his life. I'm sorry, there's no coming back from that. Colin gets angry when he is aware of who Lady Whistledown is, but his anger is not directed at Penelope herself. It is directed at her lack of thought for her own safety. Colin puts Penelope's safety and reputation over everything. In the carriage scene, he steps back as soon as he hears the words "but we are friends" from her mouth; he takes it as a sign, that this is Penelope telling him I don't have feelings for you, and he is happy to respect her wishes. Colin would have never voiced his feelings a second time if she had rebuffed him then, he would have been happy to remove himself from Society and spend his days on the Continent, writing in his journals. So much of both Penelope and Colin is them learning to voice their wants and desires and fuck, it's the most beautiful thing to watch as it comes to life on my screen.

[l3viat8an]

*points at ur pussy* are u gonna finish that? *tummy growls really loud*

[thelonelyshore-if]

Beck Drabble

Or, Beck wakes up next to MC for the first time.

Beck wakes up to the feeling of a warm body tucked snugly in the curve of his arms. Consciousness creeps, slow as frost on a window, as he tries to make sense of this. Shouldn't he be alone?

No–wait. 

A memory comes, springing to the front of his mind. Last night. It was late, and he hadn't wanted it to end, and he…he asked you to stay. 

He asked you to stay and you said yes. That one simple word–yes–dripping from your lips like honey. It terrified him. Excited him. He likes you, but this is a whole new level. You're in his bed. Your body fits against his like a puzzle piece, and his lungs are so tight they feel like they're going to pop. 

Air. Beck needs air. This is too much, too fast.

He untangles himself, attempting to gently pry his lithe form away from yours. He doesn’t want to wake you, regardless of the way panic stampedes through his chest. You look so serene. Beck slips his arm out from under you, tries to replace it with a pillow. Slowly pulls away, rolling over and dropping off the bed onto his feet.

The noise of his soles hitting the hardwood makes him flinch. Dark eyes shoot up and settle on where you lay, curled up with your back to him. No reaction. He exhales, relief not quite making up for the instant pang of loss in his chest. The AC unit in the window blows hard enough to leave a chill in the air, even though it’s October.

Usually, he likes it cold when he sleeps…but now the chill reminds him of how good you felt in his arms, warm and snug.

Beck turns his back on you. Closes his eyes. What was he thinking, asking you to stay? Had he lost his mind? He doesn’t know what to do with you here, in his bed, in his apartment. Sleeping the morning away, sure to wake up soon enough.

For a second he imagines himself in bed beside you when you do. Feeling you stir in his arms, turn around and look at him with sleepy eyes. Maybe you’d reach up, catch his lips with your own. Start the day with a kiss, bodies pressed flush together. 

He swallows hard, shaking his head. He can’t fall into that trap. He bounces in place, nervous energy coursing through him. He refuses to turn back and look at you–instead he pitches forward, taking a few stumbling steps towards his bedroom door.

The problem is, he thinks as he flees, that he likes you. Too much. More than he’s maybe liked anyone before. And he has absolutely no idea what the fuck he’s supposed to do about it. He’s not...not the type. He never has been. Relationships are tricky. Hard to pin down.

Beck isn’t really the type to be pinned down.

He reaches the doorframe, his heart in his ears. He grabs the knob, palms slick with sweat, and pulls it open. The creak sounds like a gunshot. He pauses, gritting his teeth and squeezing his eyes shut. Hardly daring to breathe. Does he look back? 

What the hell is he supposed to do if he does and you’ve woken? How could he even begin to face you, if you looked up and saw him running away?

“I’m sorry,” he envisions himself saying. Hands shaking as he looks away, “I’m scared.”

Yeah, right. Like he’d ever.

Anyway, he isn’t scared. Beck doesn’t get scared. He’s just…

He doesn’t know. He doesn’t have the words. All he knows is that he has to get out, to get some air. To think this over. 

You haven’t spoken, so he assumes he’s good. He finishes opening the door, stepping out into the hallway. Each step is tiny. Like his body is manifesting the hesitation he’s pretending doesn’t exist. His thoughts race, doubt chewing away at him.

Isn’t it silly, running away from his own bed? Especially considering he wanted you with him? And the way he felt with you in his arms, like everything in the world was right? 

Beck comes to a stop, excruciatingly slow. The fear still rages inside–fear of commitment, fear of letting you down, fear of fucking this up–but fear’s an old friend. One he’s used to ignoring. He looks over his shoulder at his door, propped half-open. 

It’s freezing in the hallway. You’re warm.

That’s what sells it. He’s cold, and you’re warm, and he misses you, besides. Slotting himself beside you in bed for a little bit longer isn’t a lifelong commitment. It’s just giving you the morning. Giving himself the morning. And what’s wrong with that?

Beck shoves down the fear and the doubt. He decisively turns heel, marches back into the room. Climbs back into bed quickly, not even trying to avoid waking you. He leans over you, long black hair framing your face.

Your eyelids flutter open, and you’re none the wiser. Beck smiles, bends down. He kisses you, hard and fast, cupping your cheek in one hand. You’re barely awake but you kiss back, and the feeling of it sparks something hot and smoldering deep in his chest. He lets the fire burn for a long moment before pulling away.

“Good morning?” you ask, voice heavy with sleep

Beck grins. He kisses you again, just a peck.

“Morning,” he says, before rolling to the side and flopping onto his back.

He wraps an arm around you, drawing you in close. The warmth of you is addictive, compared to the cold of the room, and he wants to lose himself in it. You burrow yourself deeper into his side. He thinks you’re still mostly asleep.

All the better. This is how the day started. Beck lets go of his hesitation, overwrites it with this moment. No need to dwell on uncertainty. He’s certain of you now, in this moment, and that’s all that matters.

[munchboxart]

New SR OCs, I’m surprised it took me this long

[itgr]

Something on Past! Gyrus and Kodya

desperation sits heavy on my tongue, tumblr user tullipsink / wanna be yours, arctic monkeys / tumblr user twoheadedfawnn / room of swords, webtoon / sharp objects - gillian flynn / tumblr user inanotheruniverse / virginia woolf, letter to violet dickinson / katie maria / tumblr user inanotheruniverse