Rhaenyra Moving To Dragonstone

Mr. and Mrs. Champion

Request by anonymous

I stood in the middle of the wrestling ring, my heart pounding with excitement. The crowd roared around me, their cheers fueling my adrenaline. I was proud to be the reigning women's champion, a title I had earned through hard work and determination.

Beside me, my husband Bret held his own championship title, a testament to his strength and skill. We were a power couple, supporting each other in and out of the ring. The love and admiration in his eyes fueled my confidence even more.

As the match ended and we made our way backstage, a surge of anticipation washed over us. We had both given our all in the ring, and now it was time to celebrate our victories together.

Bret gently took my hand and led me to our private dressing room, shutting out the world beyond its doors. The moment we were alone, the air between us crackled with desire. Our bodies hummed with an electric energy, a mix of excitement and longing.

His lips met mine in a hungry kiss, setting my senses ablaze. The familiar taste and feel of him sent waves of pleasure through me. My fingers traced the contours of his muscular physique, feeling the strength beneath my touch. We explored each other's bodies with a passion only two deeply connected souls could share.

Whispers of adoration escaped our lips as we surrendered ourselves to the pleasure that consumed us. The room filled with soft gasps, moans of ecstasy, and the sound of our bodies moving in perfect harmony.

Hours melted away as we lost ourselves in each other. The world outside our haven ceased to exist as we indulged in a mixture of tenderness and intensity. It was a night of pure bliss, where love and desire intertwined seamlessly.

In the aftermath, as our bodies lay entwined, I felt a sense of contentment wash over me. We had celebrated not only our victories as champions but also our love and connection. In each other's arms, we found strength, passion, and a deep bond that would carry us through any challenge.

As the night came to a close, we shared whispered promises of forever, knowing that our love and partnership were unbreakable. I drifted off to sleep, wrapped in Bret's embrace, feeling grateful for the life we had created together—where success, love, and pleasure were intertwined in the most beautiful way.

I’m Back!!!!

So yes I’m back to writing imagines again. So send your requests. I am completely heal and surgery went great. So yeah that’s all I have to say so you can send in your request and I will write them for you.

tuna

Wtf?

Maybe Trump isn't so bad after all I got my cooking tiktoks back 🥰

i hope you can’t ever get your propaganda pasta to be al dente

Are black people still on tumblr?? Reblog so I can follow✨🤎🖤

anon/ask/request OPEN!

send your filthiest nsfw and fluff sfw robb, jon, cregan, jace, etc GoT/HOTD anons/asks/headcanons/requests i’ll try to write them asap :)

WHERE CAN I READ SOME EMMA D'ARCY FANFICS 😩😩

Montreal Screwup Job

Request by anonymous

Backstage at the Montreal Screwjob, Y/n stood with their children, anxiously watching the unfolding events of the match. As Bret Hart's wife, she knew how important this night was for him. Little did she know the shocking betrayal that awaited them.

The tension in the air was thick as Y/n witnessed the merciless plot unfold on the monitor. Her heart sank as Shawn Michaels locked Bret into the sharpshooter, and then, the sound of the bell rang through the arena. It was over. Bret had been robbed of his championship title right before their eyes.

A surge of anger coursed through Y/n's veins as she hastily made her way through the chaos backstage. The emotions within her were too powerful to be contained. She sought out Vince McMahon and Shawn Michaels, the architects of this despicable act, determined to vent her fury.

When Y/n finally found them, there was fire in her eyes and venom in her words. She unleashed a torrent of curses and accusations, expressing her disbelief and disgust at their deceitful actions. Her voice echoed through the halls, causing heads to turn and ears to listen.

Through it all, Bret watched, his face a mix of pain and frustration. He felt the weight of the betrayal crushing him, but seeing Y/n standing up for him so fiercely, he knew he wasn't alone in this battle.

As the adrenaline subsided, Y/n's anger gave way to worry and sadness. She approached Bret, their children close by her side, their expressions mirroring concern and love. Y/n gently reached out, her hand finding its place on Bret's arm, grounding him in their unwavering support.

In a moment of vulnerability, Bret slumped against a nearby wall, emotionally drained. Y/n moved closer, enveloping him in her embrace, offering solace in their shared pain. Together, they held back tears, finding strength in each other's presence.

Their children, sensing the heaviness in the room, stepped forward. With teary eyes, they spoke words of comfort and admiration for their father. They expressed their appreciation for his unwavering dedication, his unmatched talent, and the love he had shown them throughout their lives.

In that moment, Y/n and their children became Bret's pillars of strength. Their words of love and gratitude broke through the darkness, reminding him of the impact he had made as a husband and father. The pain of the betrayal still lingered, but with Y/n and their children by his side, Bret knew he would rise above it all.

Together, they would navigate the aftermath of the Montreal Screwjob, supporting each other unconditionally and ensuring that the bond of their family remained unbreakable.

at some point you have to realize that you actually have to read to understand the nuance of anything. we as a society are obsessed with summarization, likely as a result of the speed demanded by capital. from headlines to social media (twitter being especially egregious with the character limit), people take in fragments of knowledge and run with them, twisting their meaning into a kaleidoscope that dilutes the message into nothing. yes, brevity is good, but sometimes the message, even when communicated with utmost brevity, requires a 300 page book. sorry.