#Boys dress Manufacture

[yashjain003]

A Comprehensive Guide on Where to buy Boys Suits ?

In the world of fashion, every occasion demands a distinct style, and when it comes to dressing up young gentlemen, the right suit can make all the difference. If you're in search of the perfect boys' suit, look no further than Prabhuratan – a distinguished company that excels in the sale and manufacturing of boys' dress sets. In this comprehensive guide, we'll explore the myriad options available for purchasing boys' suits from Prabhuratan, whether you're looking for wholesale quantities or retail indulgence.

Understanding Prabhuratan: A Glimpse into Excellence

Prabhuratan stands as a beacon of quality and craftsmanship in the world of boys' apparel. With a commitment to providing the finest suits for young boys, Prabhuratan has earned a reputation for excellence in both wholesale and retail sectors. The company prides itself on delivering not only impeccable products but also a seamless shopping experience for its customers.

1. Wholesale Wonderland: Bulk Buying for Retailers and Entrepreneurs

Prabhuratan's wholesale offerings are a boon for retailers and entrepreneurs seeking to stock their shelves with top-notch boys' suits. Here are some key features that make Prabhuratan the go-to choice for wholesale purchases:

a. Diverse Catalog: A Plethora of Styles

Prabhuratan boasts an extensive catalog of boys' suits, ranging from classic and timeless designs to trendy and modern styles. Retailers can choose from a diverse array of options to cater to different customer preferences and occasions.

b. Quality Craftsmanship: A Mark of Excellence

When buying in bulk, quality is paramount. Prabhuratan ensures that every piece in their wholesale collection reflects the highest standards of craftsmanship. From stitching to fabric selection, attention to detail is a hallmark of their suits.

c. Customization Options: Tailored to Perfection

Recognizing the diverse needs of retailers, Prabhuratan offers customization options for wholesale orders. This ensures that retailers can curate a collection that aligns with their brand identity and customer base.

d. Competitive Pricing: Maximizing Profit Margins

Prabhuratan understands the economic realities of running a retail business. Therefore, they offer competitive wholesale pricing, allowing retailers to maximize their profit margins while offering value to their customers.

e. Timely Delivery: Efficiency at its Best

In the fast-paced world of retail, timely delivery is crucial. Prabhuratan's commitment to efficiency ensures that wholesale orders are processed and delivered promptly, enabling retailers to meet the demands of their customers.

2. Retail Delight: Indulging in the Finest Suits for Individual Shoppers

For those seeking to purchase a boys' suit for personal use or special occasions, Prabhuratan's retail offerings are a treasure trove of sartorial splendor. Here's why individual shoppers find delight in Prabhuratan's retail experience:

a. Varied Selection: Options for Every Occasion

Whether it's a formal event, a wedding, or a casual gathering, Prabhuratan's retail collection has a suit for every occasion. Their diverse range ensures that individual shoppers can find the perfect outfit that suits their style and the event's theme.

b. Premium Fabrics: Luxurious Comfort

Prabhuratan places a premium on using high-quality fabrics in the creation of their boys' suits. This commitment ensures that young gentlemen not only look dashing but also feel comfortable in their attire.

c. Trendsetting Designs: Staying Fashion-Forward

Fashion trends evolve, and Prabhuratan keeps pace with the latest styles. The retail collection showcases trendsetting designs that allow individual shoppers to dress their young ones in outfits that are not just stylish but also reflective of contemporary fashion sensibilities.

d. Size Options: A Fit for Every Frame

Understanding the importance of a well-fitted suit, Prabhuratan offers a wide range of size options in their retail collection. This ensures that boys of all ages and sizes can find a suit that fits them perfectly.

e. Online Shopping Experience: Convenience Redefined

Prabhuratan's retail experience extends beyond physical stores, with an online platform that provides the convenience of shopping from the comfort of one's home. The user-friendly website allows customers to browse the catalog, place orders, and track deliveries seamlessly.

3. The Prabhuratan Advantage: What Sets Them Apart

Whether you're a retailer looking to stock your shelves or an individual shopper seeking the perfect boys' suit, choosing Prabhuratan comes with distinct advantages that set them apart in the market:

a. Reputation for Excellence: A Legacy of Trust

Prabhuratan's legacy is built on a foundation of trust and excellence. With years of experience in the industry, the company has garnered a reputation for delivering top-quality products consistently.

b. Customer-Centric Approach: Putting Clients First

Prabhuratan places a strong emphasis on customer satisfaction. Their customer-centric approach ensures that every interaction, whether wholesale or retail, is characterized by professionalism, responsiveness, and a genuine commitment to meeting customer needs.

c. Sustainable Practices: Ethical and Responsible

In an era where sustainability matters, Prabhuratan takes pride in adopting ethical and responsible practices. From sourcing materials to manufacturing processes, the company is committed to minimizing its environmental impact.

d. Innovations in Design: Keeping Things Fresh

Fashion is ever-evolving, and Prabhuratan stays ahead of the curve with continuous innovations in design. This ensures that their catalog remains fresh, appealing to both traditional and contemporary tastes.

e. Community Engagement: Beyond Business

Prabhuratan believes in giving back to the community. The company actively engages in philanthropic initiatives, contributing to the well-being of society beyond the realm of fashion.

Conclusion: Elevate Style with Prabhuratan's Boys Suits

In the realm of boys' fashion, Prabhuratan emerges as a beacon of style, quality, and customer satisfaction. Whether you're a retailer looking to stock your shelves with premium boys' suits or an individual shopper seeking the perfect outfit for a special occasion, Prabhuratan has you covered. With a commitment to excellence, a diverse catalog, and a customer-centric approach, Prabhuratan stands as the ultimate destination for all your boys' suit needs. Elevate your style and make a statement with Prabhuratan – where fashion meets finesse.

[kapoor91]

USA Clothing Manufacturer provides competitively priced wholesale clothing and accessories. We offer practical and stylish flannels, denim jackets, sportswear, gym clothing, children's clothes and more – all with fast delivery in the USA. Shop now!

[usaclothingmanufacturer]

The Advantages of Buying Fitness Apparel Wholesale

The world of fitness apparel is constantly growing, and it can be difficult to find the right products that meet your needs. With so many options in the market, it’s important to consider buying fitness apparel wholesale. Exploring the benefits of owning athletic clothes manufacturers-made pieces for yourself or wholesale children’s clothing USA-made products for your business can be a…

[sunderwight]

SV fic where Shen Yuan transmigrates into the former sect leader, Yue Qingyuan's shizun, right before Yue Qi shows up at the selection trials.

Shen Yuan is not sure why he's in one of his all-time hate-reads, let alone why he's gone so far back before the story actually begins (his system appears to be malfunctioning? something about an error and emergency backup...?), but he's making the most of it. This despite the fact that being a sect leader is a much more prestigious and political role than he likes.

But Shen Yuan is, at heart, actually a pretty good teacher, and he's spent enough time witnessing administrative work secondhand that he can competently tackle most of his duties. Whatever he can't handle, luckily there are other masters on Qiong Ding who always seem eager to curry favor by volunteering at the least hint that they should. Apparently his predecessor was known for being kind of cold-blooded and ruthless. (Shen Yuan gets checked for possession and it's concluded behind his back that he most have lost some of his memories, again, but also everyone kinda prefers this version anyway, again.)

But, so, he picks Yue Qi at the trials without even realizing at first who he's selecting, but just because that kid seems really determined to get in and clearly has been through it. Reminds him of Luo Binghe. Even when he puts it all together, all he feels mostly is kind of bad about it? He never thought Yue Qingyuan was sufficiently villainous to merit his end, even though he didn't blame Binghe for it either. He was always a mystery, an apparently kind person who nevertheless had some inexplicable fondness for the scum villain, turned a blind eye towards his abuses, and got dragged down with him. Shen Yuan feels even worse when he actually gets to know his solemn, smiling, secretive little disciple.

Yue Qi is very determined to advance, and as quickly as possible. Shen Yuan admonishes him. Obviously this kid has a protagonist-like aura and a similar drive to get places quickly, but you can't speedrun your disciple era, Mr. Future Sect Leader! There's no montage mode! Most of his attempts at intervening meet a brick wall that is Yue Qi's impenetrable smile and polite deference if he even hints at displeasure (this kid's gonna make a great politician one day), but Shen Yuan changes tactics and starts manufacturing excuses for breaks, taking Yue Qi on him with trips off the mountain and finding reasons to stop at local festivals and hot springs and etc. He can tell something's off with the quality of frustration that his disciple sometimes expresses, with how there's fear to it, but he's at a loss for the cause and it's difficult to get Yue Qi to talk. Despite appearances, he's actually very distrustful of adults.

When Yue Qi asks to claim his sword early, Shen Yuan says no. He remember how reputedly powerful Xuan Su was, and his disciple definitely needs a stronger base if he's going to pull a sword of that caliber. But he suspects this won't go over well, and when he catches Yue Qi sneaking off to Wan Jian Peak on his own, his disciple finally breaks down and admits that he needs to get strong in order to save his most important person.

Shen Yuan is moved. The way Yue Qi speaks, he's certain this person is a young maiden whom his student has fallen in love with. Truly, the sect leader was so very similar to Luo Binghe at heart! He must have failed in the original story, and that contributed to his difficulties and sorrows later on. Of course Shen Yuan will help him rescue his sweetheart!

Even if his sweetheart is... surprisingly butch? And is a slave owned by the Qiu family, and, wait a second, that name is kind of familiar... oh.

Oh dear.

Shen Yuan is internally screaming even as he helps buy Xiao Jiu out of bondage, even as he gives Yue Qi money to get his newly rescued friend all cleaned up and suitably dressed for the trip back to Cang Qiong, even as he buys the boys tanghulu for a treat, even as the System cheerfully informs him that his new quest is to get Xiao Jiu accepted onto Qing Jing Peak, even as Yue Qi tears up for the first time when he thanks him for helping.

He can only get to sleep that night by consoling himself with the knowledge that his generation is going to retire well before Luo Binghe and The Plot actually show up.

The System: (〜￣▽￣)〜

5 Years Later:

Huan Hua Palace Master: Sect Leader, we need your help! A terrible Heavenly Demon has come to threaten the whole of human society!

Shen Yuan: That's not possible. He isn't even born yet.

HHP Master: What?

Shen Yuan: What?

[kurooh]

Hi hi!

Jumping on the brainrot train yet again. I was thinkin'...what would be the MHA boys reaction when you surprises them with a sexy version of their costume.

I think some of them might go feral 😈

🐰

OH MY GODDD WHAT IS UR BRAIN MADE OF

izuku can’t form a coherent sentence, stuttering and flushing more at the sight of you, yet he can’t stop sneaking glances when he tries to look away. “b-baby! uh, you look really really good! not just good, you look so sexy— i mean—okay! wow, it’s really hot in here isn’t it? i swear it’s because of you—” giggling, you put him out of his misery by giving him a kiss.

katsuki’s affronted, or he at least pretends to be. you’re half naked, the costume hanging off your hips and chest, begging to be ripped off. now, he doesn’t want to reveal just how flustered he is, so he critiques every part of your costume, no matter how ridiculous it is. “see, look at that. this would’ve been a great knockoff costume if the headpieces were painted right. oh, and look at that shit right there! the manufacturer didn’t even make the panti— the shorts loose enough to replicate the real thing.” “it’s supposed to be tight on my ass, kat.” eventually he shuts up and just tears the costume off you, and absolutely will not address his fake criticism from earlier.

shoto’s pleasantly surprised to see you wearing his costume, shamelessly looking over the way the tight suit hugs the slopes and curves of your body. “my costume looks great on you. we could dress up together for halloween, hm?” knowing him, the costume won’t last until then lmaooo (he’s a real freak)

eijirou grabs your hands and jumps up and down. he’s so excited to see you wearing his costume, and he honestly feels like you’re a better looking red riot than he is. “YAY babe!! you look so beautiful, oh my god! you’re wearing it better than me, mrs red riot.” he smothers your face in kisses and works his way down your body, fighting every urge to rip the costume off you.

denki walks into the room and takes one wide eyed, slack jawed look at you in his costume. “i’m hard.” “denki! what do you think of it??” “i just said i’m hard!” “that’s not enough of an answer!” “babeeee! you KNOW how sexy you are.” “how sexy?” you’d ask cheekily, spinning to show him the backside of the costume, which leaves almost nothing to the imagination. “i’m going full chargebolt on you baby.” “what.” “spread your legs right now,” and then when he sees the disbelief and shock on your face he wiggles his eyebrows at you. “you heard me babe.”

[sharonallen246]

What Should You Consider When Buying Baby Boys Clothes

Buying clothes for the kids gets extremely challenging, when you have to consider some crucial factors from comfort, to quality.

[ilyrafe]

after seeing so much one direction content these past couple of days, it got me thinking. one direction really was the last boyband to ever happen. no one will ever come close to what they did in only six years. it’s a once in a generation kind of thing to happen. they didn’t even win the x factor and ended up being the show’s biggest act, 14 years later.

yes, they were manufactured, but at the same time, they were the least manufactured band to ever exist in recent times. they didn’t dance, they weren’t actually meant to be a band, they got everything they had because of charisma and talent. these boys were so talented and charismatic. they didn’t really dress the same, they were working class teenagers with a dream and they did it. and it was beautiful.

after seeing their statements, it’s finally downing on me that one direction is really over and i will never see all five of them together again. 11 year old me is absolutely devastated, and so is 24, almost 25 year old me.

the fangirl in me never went anywhere, it turns out. i still have my 1d concert tickets (the only one i went to and zayn was still in the band!), my albums and dvds, books, theater tickets and every once in a while i would take them out of the box and reminisce of the good old days, never thinking i would mourn one of them so soon. i genuinely thought i would be way older when they would go.

i can’t help but feel so sad that liam’s last years were so erratic and horrible. he was hurting deeply and he deeply hurt other people, and there is no excuse for what he did. i mourn what he once was, what he could have been and how it all ended up being. i take maya’s allegations seriously and i encourage you to do the same. what she is going through right now is impossible to imagine.

for those saying they’re glad “an abuser died”, think about what you’re saying. his death helps no one. his victims will never get justice, he will not take accountability for his actions. no one will ever get closure.

for those saying they feel bad for hating or mocking him, you really should. he was called an opportunist for showing up at the boys’ concerts and yet, when harry would do it, everyone loved it.

liam wasn’t perfect, he fucked up a lot, but like anyone, he had the right to, at the very least, apologize. 31 is too young, and no one deserves to go like this.

all i think about is his little son, who will grow up without his dad. no kid should ever lose their parent, especially at such an young age. the fact that he never once exposed his son to the media (like many celebrities do) to protect his privacy tells me that he loved his boy and knew all too well the damage this exposure would cause.

i saw that some 1d songs are trending again, and as much as i would love to take the day to listen to them, it is too soon. i haven’t been able to watch friends since matthew perry died, haven’t been able to watch brooklyn 99 since andre bragher died and will not be able to listen to 1d for a while.

it’s too soon.

call me dramatic, i don’t really care. the most magical part of my adolescence has ended tragically and i am really at a loss.

for those who are conflicted as i am, take your time. it is okay to be sad he’s gone and, at the same time, feel disappointed or even angry. it is okay to mourn and, at the same time, support maya.

edit: i would also like to express my support to his parents, sisters, cheryl, kate and friends.

[lynati]

(Oh, the author of this is having FUN!)

"Vance's speech, on the other hand, wasn't just underwhelming but a little uncanny. Despite using room dividers to shrink the space, the campaign could not hide that the crowd felt like a medium-sized wedding, albeit a pathetic one where no one cares for the couple. Vance, perhaps recognizing charisma isn't his strong suit, spoke briefly before bringing up a series of local citizens ready to blame Mexicans for their familial tragedies of drug addiction. He spoke for a couple more minutes, before taking the reporters' questions about cat ladies. 

"Even in his short speech, it seemed Vance — like the Trump campaign overall — is still struggling to accept that they are running against Harris and not President Joe Biden. It felt like the speechwriter had typed Ctrl-F "Biden" and replaced every instance with "Harris," whether it made sense or not. Vance accused Harris of hiding from the press with a "basement campaign." Never mind that Harris is now the young and spry candidate who can keep up with an aggressive schedule, while Trump is the tired old man who can barely campaign between naps. 

"One upside to the Vance event: There was no line to use the ladies' room. Sure, there were women in attendance, but the gender ratio felt like the guest list on Joe Rogan's podcast.

"There was one kind of diversity in this small but weirdly intense crowd. Every type of white man that gets a hasty "swipe left" on his dating profile was in attendance: 'Roided out dudes with bad tribal tattoos. Older men radiating "bitter divorce" energy. Men with enormous beards that have never known the touch of a trimmer. Skinny fascists wearing expensive suits, despite the oppressive heat. Glowering loners staring at the two women under 40 like cats watching birds out a window. 

"There's a lot of chatter in MAGA circles about how the enthusiasm for Harris is "manufactured," as if all the people bringing down the house on an early Tuesday evening in Philadelphia are phantoms instead of real people. 

"But boy, I was there, and they are very real. More than that, the contrast with the Vance event underscored the Democratic messaging about "normal vs. weird."

"The people who flooded the Temple stadium looked like any cross-section of America on any given night. There was old, young and all in-between. There were tattooed hipsters and soccer moms. There were people of every race, dressed in every which way. It could have been a crowd of people chosen at random from the streets of Philadelphia, or any city in America, really. They were brought together by the chant quickly becoming the Harris campaign slogan: "Not going back."

(The full article is longer than this, and you should give the whole thing a read.)

[itsmarsss]

Scandalous (Blitzø x Fem!Succubus!Reader x Stolas) [Helluva Boss] pt. 2 - How to Make Friends

How the mighty do fall. (Getting into a weird three-way situation with an imp and a succubus isn't exactly considered classy, Stolas)

Meet Blitzø.

pt. 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3 | pt. 4 | pt. 5 | 1st bonus | pt. 6 | pt. 7 | pt. 8 | pt. 9 | 2nd bonus

Word count: 2,415

Warnings: surprise surprise! the series is actually non-linear! Some hints of trauma regarding feeling used/objectified, a glimpse into a little more context, mentions of sex as usual, i told y’all i can be a fun writer

Things had been running rather smoothly at Ozzie’s before some idiot decided he could just come in.

Sneaked in, you assumed, since he didn’t seem to be accompanied, and, frankly, didn’t exactly look dressed for a fancy dinner night at Ozzie’s like other customers always were and he had the nerve to come up to you and ask for some minutes of Asmodeus’ time as if it were nothing. 

This wasn't the first time this has happened, of course- for some reason people seemed to think that speaking somewhat confidently about having an appointment would somehow distract you, the person whose job was to strictly keep track of Ozzie’s time, from… well, doing your job. 

At this point, he’d gotten past the whole ‘I have an appointment in five minutes´ thing and started trying to convince you that you had to let him talk to the Sin. 

“Uh. I don’t know what you want me to say, dude. You can’t just like… ask to see Asmodeus. It’s… kinda not how it works. At all.”

“Why not?”

You sighed. “Who are you supposed to be again?”

“I’m Blitz. The O is silent.” He offers his hand for you to shake, but you only raise an eyebrow, unamused. He retracts his hand. 

“Is that supposed to ring a bell or…?”

“Not to you maybe. But his little bitch boy knows who I am.”

“What?”

“I know Fizzarolli, okay?”

“Okay, and?”

“And? And I need to talk to the big Oz!”

“Yeah first off- you could just be bullshitting me. And second off… that doesn’t just automatically give you any priority in Ozzie’s very, very long list of important meetings.”

“Important meetings? What’s he doing right now, discussing dildo prices with some fuckface from Greed?” He raises an eyebrow in defiance.

You do your best to conceal the look on your face as you glanced at Ozzie’s schedule, which confirmed he was, in fact, discussing dildo prices with a manufacturer from Greed.

It wasn’t enough, though- the imp seems to realize it. “He is, isn’t he?” He grins.

“That’s confidential information.”

He leans over your desk, planting both his hands on top of it in front of you and getting his face closer to yours. “What’s a hot piece of ass like yours doing in a dump like this anyways?”

“This is… Ozzie’s, dude.” At this point, you don’t even have an excuse as to why you were even entertaining this guy (at least none that aren’t ‘things are slow right now and I’m really fucking bored’).

“Yeah, I’m usually at some shitty bar with cum and blood on the walls when I pull this one.”

You actually laugh. “I’m sure you are. Anything else I can help you with?”

“A… meeting with Asmodeus maybe?”

“Definitely not.”

“Eh, worth a try. How ‘bout a drink?”

“Are you offering to buy me a drink or asking me to buy you a drink?”

“Hey I’m up for whatever one you want,” he puts his hands up in surrender.

You roll your eyes, unable to contain a smile at the dumb conversation. At least he was entertaining you. You had to give it to him, he was a little funny. “You know what. Get yourself a drink, Blitz with the silent O. You probably need it.”

“Oh, really? Well if you in- hey wait what’s that supposed to mean?”

You just shrug. “Ya want the drink or not?”

He pauses. “Yes.”

You laugh again. “Just look for Maru by the bar and tell her you got a drink on me, she’ll make something for you.”

“Oh you’re not… you’re not gonna be… joining me?” He asks, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. He almost looked actually disappointed, just a little bit. Almost.

“Nope. The hot piece of ass is still at work.”

“Riiight. I’ll uh- I’ll be right there! At the bar. Drinking my drink.” He says, awkwardly walking backward.

“If you try to sneak into Ozzie’s dressing room I will find out.”

“And what would you potentially do if you found that out?”

“You don’t wanna-” Suddenly, Ozzie’s voice makes itself known in your earpiece, your voice dying off as you focus on what he says, saying the words that signaled things had gotten a bit heated during the meeting and you need to send in someone to escort the imp out of his office (something you had implemented after the third meeting in two months that had ended with him either slightly injuring or straight-up incinerating someone). “Yeah I wouldn’t recommend doing that, sir,” you tell him, quickly looking for and pressing the emergency buttons that signaled whoever was working security they were needed at Ozzie’s office. 

“Oh, sir, huh? I can work with sir.”

“Huh?” Realizing you hadn’t given the imp guy any sign you’d been talking to Ozzie, and not him, you feel your cheeks burn the slightest bit, getting caught off guard. “No, uh- earpiece.” You awkwardly point at your right ear.

Blitzø’s eyes widen, taken by surprise for a second before trying to keep his cool- and the little dignity he had. “Yeah I knew that. Just some good old teasing. Gosh you’re so uptight!”

“Okay, please get in before I change my mind.”

“Yup. Will do. I’m just gonna… stop by the bathroom real quick-”

“It’s the bar or out, man.”

“Fiiiine,” he exaggerates, dragging himself out of your sight.

“Y/n, you there?” Ozzie’s voice comes from the comm again, and you realize he’s probably been saying something already. 

“Shit, sorry. Someone was holding me up here. Did they get him out?”

“Yes. Do I have anyone scheduled right now?”

“Hold on, let me see,” you look at the screen, crossing out the meeting he’d just finished as done and finding the name written for the one under it. “Yeah, you have that meeting about the beach accident with those Inccubi in Pasadena.”

“What is a Pasadena?”

“Living world matter, sir,” you simplify for him. 

“Living world?”

“Yup.”

“When does he get here?”

“Eight minutes.”

[. . .]

“You sure you’re fine?”

“Yes! All of my meetings are done, performances are going fine and Aro owes me a lot of hours anyway. Now if you don’t mind, I have some alone time with my Froggie to attend.”

“Ugh, that nickname makes me sick.”

“I don’t pay you to judge me.”

“Yeah you pay me 'cause you loooove me. See you on Monday?”

“Yes!”

“If you need anything ‘till then-”

“I will let you know, y/n. Now, I granted you an early night, didn’t I? I expect you to enjoy yourself.”

“Fine, boss,” you teased him, making sure he saw you rolling your eyes.

You walked out of Oz’s office, inside of which you’d seen no sight of Fizzarolli, which was strange. You obviously wouldn’t pry, but wondered if the incident with his hearing aid that Ozzie had had to take a break for earlier had been more serious than what Ozzie made it sound. 

There was no use thinking about it too much, though. You and Asmodeus were close, but there were boundaries you still kept between you and respected. You were pretty much the only person Ozzie ever forwardly told about his relationship with Fizz (even though basically everyone else in all seven rings suspected it in some way) and he knew of many personal things of yours, too, but things such as Fizzarolli’s own personal life and the identity of any people you told him about in conversation usually went unmentioned. 

So, to the bar it was. When Ozzie told you he’d gotten someone to cover you for the last hours of the night so you could be free, the very first thing you’d thought to do had been to go straight home- but even thinking it to yourself made that sound depressing. In truth, Asmodeus was the closest thing you had to a real friend- the closest you’d had in a really long time. And although you did feel grateful to be free of work, it wasn't really much fun to think of the fact that, not being able to hang with Ozzie, you didn’t really have much to do. Or anyone to do anything with. 

So you decided maybe you’d have a drink or two, and enjoy the last performances of the night before bouncing. Couldn’t hurt, right?

To your surprise, when you sit down at a stool by the bar, ordering yourself a blackberry frozen margarita- in your opinion, the best drink on Ozzie’s drink menu- you’re startled to see the imp you’d talked to earlier that night sliding next to you, taking a seat on the stool right by your left. 

“Sooo. The hot piece of ass ain’t working anymore?”

“You’re still here?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

You shrug. “I dunno, I kind of imagined you would’ve managed to sneak into Ozzie’s dressing room and gotten yourself kicked out by now.” Of course, you were only taking the piss at him- you’d know if that would have happened. Obviously.

He furrows his eyebrows together. “Wait I actually could have sneaked into his dressing room if I tried?”

You laugh and decide to answer his first question instead of that one. “No, I’m not working anymore.”

“Does that mean I’m allowed to flirt with you now?”

“Oh, that thing you were doing wasn’t flirting?”

“Depends. Was it working?”

You drink the rest of your margarita in a single gulp instead of answering. “Hey, Maru? Would you get me another, please? You can put it under Blitz here.”

“Hey!”

“What? I thought you were trying to flirt. Buy me a drink!”

[. . .]

“So you’re the one who manages this whole thing?” Blitzø motions around to the restaurant, almost spilling the shot of tequila he was holding.

“Well not exactly,” you toy with the little umbrella from your third drink of the night. “I’m more focused on managing Ozzie’s business. I mean. The guy, not the place. You know, meetings to attend, places to go, personal errands, everything.”

“That’s… lame.”

“What do you do for a living then that’s just so fun?”

“Well, I used to be a circus clown.”

“What? Wait that is cool.”

“Only a little cool. I’m planning something big next. But uh. Right now I’m kind of doing anything I can find to support my daughter.”

“You have a daughter?”

“Yeah. Loona. The love of my life.”

“That’s cute.” You smile. Examining him with this in mind once again, you take he does sort of have a bit of a dad energy to him. It looks a little unconventional on him considering the… everything else, but it was there. “How old is she?”

“Nineteen.” He finally downs his shot, slamming the glass on the counter.

“Oh, wow.” 

He seems to notice all the processing you were doing in your mind to try to gather how old he was. 

“I adopted her like a year ago.”

“Oh. That’s cool. What’s she like?”

Conversation with him came to be strangely natural. A few drinks in, and, from an outside perspective, it would probably be hard to figure out the two of you had never seen each other before up until a few hours prior- cracking jokes and playfully flirting, sharing bits and pieces of your lives and drinking a little more than you should together. It was weirdly comfortable.

And, much to your surprise, Ozzie didn’t come up in conversation again. Not in the way you were certain he would eventually, anyway. After all, it all seemed too nice to not be a way to get you drunk and tell him something personal about Ozzie, or ask you again for a meeting with the Sin. Right?

By the end of the night, Blitzø tried a half-serious attempt at getting you to take him home with you (because apparently he rented a one-bedroom place, and gave up his bedroom to his daughter when she moved in with him, so he wouldn’t be able to take you home with him), to which you laughed, but stopped for a second to seriously consider.

You did find him attractive. His style was hot and his personality was fun. It was all certainly working for you.

You’re sure you could have a fun time with him if you did agree, and, honestly, atop of feeling like you deserved this, you kind of needed it. Nothing like a nice, meaningless one-night-stand with a barely-decent man to distract you from from being alone all weekend. Right? 

But for some reason, you stop yourself. Maybe not this time. Because, even though you weren’t sure if that was really you or just the alcohol talking, at that moment you found yourself thinking that maybe you could actually become friends with this guy. 

And though you weren't sure if he would want that, it would be nice to have a real friend other than Asmodeus, for a change. 

“Um, I gotta work really early tomorrow,” you lie, giving him an excuse. “But I could give you my number? You’re really funny and I had a lot of fun tonight. Even though you definitely crashed the place,” you joke. “I think we could be… good… friends? Maybe? I’d like that.”

“You… want to be friends? With me?”

Fine. That’s where this ended, wasn’t it? He realized he wouldn’t be fucking you and so the interest disappeared. That’s fine. You were prepared for that. “It's alright if not.”

“No, give me- give me your number. Yeah. Give me your number.” He fishes his phone out of his pocket and gave it to you.

Oh. “Okay.” He probably only said that in the hopes to fuck you in the future. 

Still, you grab the phone from him and type in your number and he immediately sends you a ‘hi’ and a smiley face so you can save his contact too.

“Just to be clear, like, we’re not gonna- like I really mean it, I wanna be friends.”

“Okay I got it the first time, you don’t gotta rub it on my face.”

Maybe he could be genuinely fine with just being your friend? 

“I don’t mind some flirting with my friends, though,” you comment, and he smiles. 

“Tell that to me when I’m sober, sweetheart.”

No harm in trying, right? And if sober you thought differently, you could always just block him. 

Why not? Maybe this is just how to make friends as an adult. 

“Okay but seriously where does the ‘O’ even go? Like how do I even save your contact?”

A/N: this wasn't even supposed to be out today but i got too excited so here it is. also im serious abt this being non-linear... there's shit mentioned here you'll only find out more about in like chapter 5 or so but i hope i wrote it in a way thats exciting enough to make it worth it! hope yall like it, share ur thoughts w me! luv yall <3

[teeny-tiny-revenge]

It's home cinema manufacturing time! 🏴‍☠️ Gonna put my pirate show on my shelf! (I'm doing an Arts and Crafts Project and I'm making it everyone's problem.)

After seeing how much they cost, I abandoned the idea of getting a Blu-ray writer for now. For the time being, good old DVDs is what it's going to be! My TV is old and not very big, so DVD resolution is gonna be fine.

It's been ages since I last burned a DVD. For the full experience, I'm gonna create nice menus and pretty sleeves for the boxes. Graphic design is my passion! Um.

Well. First needed to find a program to do stuff with. I'm a Linux guy, so I'm using Devede. (Which is free, btw. In case someone else wants to do a low cost spot of putting pirate show on the shelf.)

DVDs fit a maximum of 120 minutes of video. So, four episodes, I thought. But after a quick attempt, the program refused to do more than three (maybe because of the menu also taking up space, and four episodes cutting pretty close to the 120 min mark?). Anyway, three episodes per disc it is. It's a pretty nice runtime for watching the entire disc, IMO. An hour and a half, and then you can return to reality to realise you should probably eat something, or go to bed because it's midnight.

OFMD with its current two seasons has a total of eighteen episodes, which is divisible by three. You get the following setup:

Disc 1: Pilot, A Damned Man, The Gentleman Pirate - That's pretty good, Stede's introduction to piracy all on one disc!

Disc 2: Discomfort in a Married State, The Best Revenge is Dressing Well, The Art of Fuckery - All bangers. Great to watch together, our boys meet and shenanigans happen!

Disc 3: This is Happening, We Gull Way Back, Act of Grace - Many romantic moments, lots of great scenes, shit hits the fan at the end there. Alright!

Disc 4: Wherever you go, there you are, Impossible Birds, Red Flags - ... Pain and angst! What have I done!?! The disc of horrors. Gotta make sure to have tissues at hand when I watch this. But hey, it also has messy bun Ed! Small mercies.

Disc 5: The Innkeeper, Fun and Games, The Curse of the Seafaring Life. - Another disc with all winners. I love all these episodes so much! (You can watch this disc to recover from the trauma of the previous one!) But seriously, this one slaps.

Disc 6: Calypso's Birthday, Man on Fire, Mermen - Great combination again. Season finale! Love and excitement!

... Honestly, except for the psychological damage of putting all the most painful episodes together, this is coming out pretty cool. Says a lot about how good the show is. I actually really love all the episodes (yes even the painful angsty episodes of massive depression). Thinking about this little project really reminded me how much I love this entire show.

So, we got a tracklist, now menus, then we can burn this stuff!

I did the menu backgrounds in GIMP. Realised I have a big folder full of screenshots I took myself, screenshots someone else took and posted on Tumblr, official promo pics for the show, and I have no idea anymore where most of them are from, because I named the files according to what's on them. Which is useful for when you want to find pics (Need a picture of cursed suit Stede? I have files named that, easy peasy!), but not so great if you wanted to give credit to whoever took a given pic you used. (It's probably @sherlockig or @ofmd-ann or @blakbonnet. Please feel credited, your beautiful screens and gifs brighten my day, and some of them are now probably part of my DVD menus. Shrunk down and cropped, but, yeah.)

I originally wanted to structure my menus as having the title of an episode, then some pics from it, then the next episode, then pics from that, and so forth, but I couldn't convince the program to give me the necessary padding between the menu items, so I ended up just putting the episode images below the menu. Still like it.

Anyway, DVD menus can also play sound! Behold a crappy video of my beautiful creation (provided entirely for sound):

It plays Gnossienne N°5!

More crappy pics of my other disc menus:

Gonna make them some nice sleeves next. Some day. Gotta make sure they all work properly first. So. I'll be on my sofa, watching my DVDs. With menus! (Edit: here are!)

[morbidology]

Robert the Doll was originally a gift to a young boy named Robert Eugene Otto, known as Gene, in the early 1900s. The doll, which stands about 40 inches tall and is stuffed with wood wool known as "excelsior," was dressed in a sailor suit, allegedly one of Gene’s own childhood outfits. It was crafted by the Steiff Company, a German manufacturer renowned for their high-quality toys, and was likely purchased by Gene's grandfather during a trip to Germany in 1904.

Upon receiving the doll, Gene quickly became attached to it, giving it his own name—Robert—and treating it as though it were alive. Robert became Gene’s constant companion, accompanying him everywhere and even having his own seat at the dinner table. Over time, however, Gene’s parents began to notice strange and unsettling occurrences surrounding the doll.

As the story goes, Gene’s relationship with Robert took on an eerie and troubling dimension. Gene's parents would often hear their son talking to the doll, and while this might have seemed normal at first, what disturbed them was the fact that a deep, unfamiliar voice would sometimes respond. Objects in the house would mysteriously move, break, or disappear, and whenever these strange events occurred, Gene would insist that "Robert did it."

Gene’s parents and the household staff began to believe that there was something malevolent about the doll. Neighbours claimed to have seen Robert moving from window to window when no one was home, and there were reports of the doll's expression changing, as if reacting to events around him. These unsettling incidents led to Robert being banished to the attic, where he remained for many years.

After Gene’s parents passed away, he inherited the family home, now known as the "Artist House," and returned to live there with his wife, Anne. Despite the strange history, Gene once again became infatuated with Robert, giving him a room of his own in the house and treating him as part of the family. Anne, however, was not as enamored with the doll and reportedly felt uneasy in its presence. The paranormal activity continued, with more frequent and disturbing incidents, leading Anne to believe that the doll was cursed.

Gene Otto passed away in 1974, and the house was sold to a new family. The new owners quickly discovered Robert and, like those before them, experienced the doll’s eerie influence. Frightened by the strange occurrences, they eventually donated Robert to the Fort East Martello Museum in Key West, where he resides to this day.

At the Fort East Martello Museum, Robert the Doll has become one of the main attractions, drawing visitors from around the world who are fascinated by his dark legend. The museum staff and visitors continue to report strange happenings in Robert’s presence, including cameras malfunctioning, eerie feelings, and even mysterious letters of apology addressed to the doll.

These letters, often written by previous visitors, beg Robert for forgiveness after experiencing misfortune or bad luck following their encounter with him. It is believed that Robert punishes those who disrespect him or take his photograph without asking for permission first. This belief has become so widespread that the walls of the museum are now covered with letters from people seeking to lift the curse they believe Robert has placed on them.

[myfictionaldreams]

All Eyes On You // Mafia!Stucky x Fem!Reader

Summary: “Do you know what we would have done if we had turned up to that restaurant and seen you all dolled up like that? We would have bent you over the table in front of everyone and shown them exactly who you belonged to". - Steve Rogers.

Quote from my other fic titled 'The Fun Game'.

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, threesome, exhibitionism, voyeurism, possessive sex, dom/sub, rough sex, table sex, praise kink, deep throat, throat bulge, creampie, multiple orgasms, sir kink, oral sex, size kink/difference, hints of subspace

Words: 4k

my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link

“How far away are we Sam?” you asked your bodyguard from the back seat.

“Only a couple more blocks, Boss Lady. Not much longer”, he remained calm to try and counter the anxiety that seemed to be rolling off of you.

“Ok, thank you”. Taking in a deep breath you allowed it to loosen the tense muscles throughout your body for a moment before releasing it out of your nose. The moment's peace only lasted for that, as your stresses went to other areas such as your palms began to sweat as you mentally cursed yourself for not remaining calm.

Adjusting your dress for what felt like the 50th time that evening, you looked out the window, beginning to recognise the area as close to your destination.

You were late—more than late. In fact, it was past the point of being fashionably late and you were beginning to look straight-up rude now, but it hadn’t been entirely your fault.

Ok… this was a slight lie as you had woken up late from a nap, rushing to finish your make-up and get dressed before meeting Sam in the car outside of your home where he laughed at your rushed expression.

“It’s fine sweetheart, we’re only a few minutes late”. This was true until one of the tyres went flat and then there was the traffic which was horrendous.

Of course, you’d called Steve explaining what was happening and he was swift to calm your nerves, “It’s fine beautiful, don’t rush, we aren’t going anywhere. Can’t wait to see you…”. His voice was low as he spoke through the phone, it was the type of tone that had your thighs clenching together and anticipating pumping through your veins.

Today, was your weekly, “fancy date” - as Bucky referred to it. Where the boys wanted to take you out to the beautiful restaurant that Steve had shares in, and knew the owner as well as the chefs. It was famous throughout Brooklyn for its reputation, only the highest of nobility could book a table and even then, it had to be done months in advance. But due to Steve’s connections, every week the exact same table was booked in the centre of the room, underneath the exaggerated crystal chandelier, a pianist in the corner and a scattering of other tables surrounding yours.

But now, you were late for the first time ever, having always been the punctual one in the relationship, it filled you with dread to be late. Not only this but you just wanted to be with them both already because they’d been out from the crack of dawn, attending meetings and phoning manufacturers.

“Here we go”, Sam’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts as he parked right outside of the restaurant. Your bodyguard and friend promptly exited the car and opened your car door, holding a hand out to help you to also climb out of the car.

“I’ll catch you tomorrow, Boss Lady”, he then announced after opening the front door for you to enter. As you were now with Steve and Bucky, the building was always being scouted by guards and was safe for Sam to go and enjoy his evening off. Giving Sam a quick hug before he left, you finally walked further into the restaurant until you found the waiter at the entrance to the seating area.

“Right, this way Mrs Rogers-Barnes”. Your cheeks warmed at the name.

You weren’t married to either of the boys yet and they loved to tease you with the possibility of this in the future but for now, it was more something they loved to call you to show just who you belonged to, showing their possessive side.

Rubbing your hands anxiously together, you refrained from running across the room to take those few seconds off as you finally caught sight of Steve and Bucky, sitting patiently and waiting in their usual seats. Releasing the breath you hadn’t noticed that you were holding and wiping your palms against your dress, Steve’s eyes soften as he saw you behind the waiter.

“Hey, I’m so so sorry I’m late”, you were quick to rush out as the waiter left the three of you for a moment. Both of your boyfriends stood, placing their drinks on the table as you stared up at them, smiling sheepishly with embarrassment about the situation. But soon, that smile was fading away as you took in their stare.

It was almost predatory, your instincts were to look down at your dress, thinking maybe it had come undone. However, you found that it was all perfectly in place, completely hugging your body perfectly as it had been handmade and purchased as a gift from Bucky. It didn’t even reveal that much, stopping just before your knees so that couldn’t be why they were looking at you like they were able to gobble you up.

Pushing past the submissive instinct to look away from the stare, your eyes flicked up between Steve and Bucky, waiting for them to say anything. They were not rushing to make any moves however as they simply stared at you, taking in every single detail.

This gave you the opportunity to do the same with both men as Bucky wiped the corner of his mouth with his metal thumb, his eyes lingering on your heeled feet. Steve had forgone his jacket that now lay over the back of his chair, leaving him in a crisp white shirt, the top two buttons undone exposing some whisps of chest hair. Both sleeves were rolled up to his elbow, the muscles of his forearms tense and the black harness of his gun holster strapped tightly across his chest, not hiding his guns from the other patrons.

Then there was Bucky, wearing a slim-fitting black shirt that was unbuttoned the same amount as Steve, exposing the chain from his dog tags and a black and white checkered blazer to match his trousers, something you had bought him a few weeks ago for his birthday and your mouth was almost watering taking them both in. They were breathtakingly gorgeous and hulky, spending a lot of their time working out so they could easily beat up people that pissed them off but that came with the job role of being in a mafia gang.

Your body was beginning to react in a different way, core clenching in arousal, legs automatically squeezing together to try and rub against your clit to ease some tension. A move that Steve noticed immediately, the corner of his lip flicking up in a smirk before leaning towards his friend, whispering in his ear which set his friend into motion as you watched Bucky strut past, heading in the direction of the entrance where the waiter stood.

Turning back towards Steve, you jumped slightly as he finally took a step closer to you. Even though you were in heels, your neck had to strain back to look up at his abnormally large height. He and Buck were always the two to tower over everyone around them and it was something that you adored the most.

Steve’s ocean-blue eyes smoothly danced across your face, inspecting every pore almost. It made you feel slightly self-conscious, even if his stare continued to become more intense but you lost your cool, once again submissively glancing towards the floor and admiring the shine in his shoes.

“Don’t I get a kiss or something? Or am I in trouble for being late?” You had attempted to sound like you were joking but it came out as a whispered inquiry. Biting your lip on instinct, you finally found the courage to look up into his handsome face, freshly shaved and he was close enough that his expensive aftershave had your insides warming in a different way.

Before Steve could answer, Bucky returned standing directly behind you, bumping his chest against your back.

The waiter had returned with him and began to clear the table of the glasses, cutlery, napkins and even the candle in the middle until only the white tablecloth was left.

Your heart began pounding in your ears as you watched the waiter closely, only being forced to look away as Steve lifted his hand, finally touching you with a single finger underneath your chin, making you look directly at him.

“Tell me what your safe words are”.

A heavy breath rushed past your lips, fanning across his face, your eyes becoming unfocused slightly. Oh, so this was the kind of night you were having.

“Red, yellow, and green. If I can’t talk, three taps”. Your voice was low as your pussy throbbed, knowing what was coming.

Steve was very much an exhibitionist, loving knowing more than showing off what was his and on many occasions, would simply pull up your dress and fuck you no matter the audience, whether it was in the car with Sam or other gang members, or in the middle of a restaurant, he didn’t care. 

This was also why he paid so much money into this particular business, to pay people off on what they saw. It wasn’t a weekly occurrence that he was fucking you in front of everyone but it was also thrilling, especially with how possessive Steve and Bucky got in moments like this.

Steve nodded briefly at your correct terms. Bucky then shifted even closed behind you, lowering his mouth until it was hovering next to your ear. “Tell me Doll, what name did they use at the door?”

Once again your skin warmed, looking over your shoulder at Bucky, admiring for a moment his fresh buzzed haircut before giving him the answer he wanted. “Mrs Rogers-Barnes”.

Bucky groaned as soon as the words spilt past your lips, he pecked your cheek once and then continued, “That sounds so good coming from your mouth… I want everyone to know who you belong to”.

His stare was intense down at you, eyes continuing to flick down towards your parted lips, watching as you breathed the words, “I’ll always belong to you both”.

Steve then began to run a finger down your soft cheek, making you look at him and away from Bucky, “Yeah? Say it again”.

You made sure to speak slowly, emphasising each word, “I belong to you and Bucky. I am yours”.

Steve’s chest vibrated as he released a deep groan, his trousers tenting at your beautiful voice, eyes darkening slightly in the low light of the room. Your heart was pounding in your chest, absolutely loving seeing them both like this, like you were the only thing they cared about in the world as if they were holding onto a thin thread that once snapped, they’d go absolutely feral on you.

“Damn right you’re ours, and everyone in this goddamn building is going to know about it”, Steve finally growled out. Then he was kissing you, or more, possessing your mouth with his, dominantly, feverishly and breathlessly.

With one hand resting heaving against your hip, the other glided over your jaw, gripping it and tilting so that he was completely in control of the kiss, tongue pushing into your mouth, ready to explore and taste everything that made you, you.

Your chest ached from needing air but you didn’t pull back, needing to feel his body on yours, trying to keep up with the way his lips were moving against yours in a bruising pressure. Both of your hands eagerly gripped onto his shirt, creasing the material but wanting to feel the abs beneath, moaning from the back of your throat as his teeth scraped your bottom lip.

Then Bucky was joining. His hands circled your body to reach for your hand, tugging them away from Steve and behind your back, easily holding the both in one of his larger hands. This gave him the perfect position to grind his hips against yours, his cock now in line with your hands so that you could feel his throbbing cock trapped in his pants, your instinct to squeeze was met with a desperate groan from the man.

Kissing along your exposed shoulder, he muttered, “Dirty girl, do you like feeling how hard you make me?”

With Steve’s tongue still twisting and exploring your mouth, you were unable to answer, instead, you moaned and squeezed him again in response. His noises were spurring you on, wishing to feel more of him, hear most of his desperate sounds of arousal that only caused yours to increase, knowing that you were the reason he felt like this.

Steve finally pulled back enough for you to greedily gasp in the air, his tongue sensually licking your lip one last time before pushing your head back further, giving him the perfect opportunity to lick the entire column of your neck. Your lips tingled from the assault, your eyes had closed on the initial impact and you kept the closed, savouring the warmth and solid bodies you were surrounded by.

“Fuck I want to taste you so bad,”  Steve admitted desperately, returning to hover over your lips.

“Then taste me” you encouraged, wanting this just as badly.

“I will but later, I want- no NEED, to be inside your sweet cunt right now. All day it’s all I’ve thought about, watching my cock pumping in and out of your warm, wet hole”.

All you managed to was mewl in response, in between your legs dampening further as Steve lifted the edges of your dress up to your hips before easing your panties down your legs, helping you to step out of them.

The mafia leader didn’t waste another second before easily manhandling your body, turning you on the spot until you were facing the table, pushing on your shoulders, and bending you over. 

Your skin instantly cooled with now being immediately surrounded by either of your boyfriends and feeling extremely exposed as your dress remained bunched at your hips. Glancing over your shoulders, you admired the way that Steve and Bucky were taking a moment to appreciate your dripping pussy that was on full display for them.

As you watched them, you tried to not let your eyes trail over to the latitude of people also in the room with the three of you. There were the other guests, eating and drinking, as well as the servers, the cooks, the musician and the managers. So many eyes.

But you simply did not care. They would leave if they wanted to but also, you knew that Steve had a special connection with this place, giving hefty payouts and only allowing certain people to book on the days that the three of you were attending. This was all to fuel the addiction of exhibiting you off to everyone, needing people to know that you were only Steve and Buckys.

“So fucking beautiful”, Steve praised, almost drooling at the sight before him. “Open your legs a bit wider for me baby”, he encouraged, knocking his foot against yours.

You opened the stance of your legs so that he could stand between them. Then he unzipped his pants, gasping under his breath as he squeeze his shaft a few times, “Gonna make you mine, make sure that everyone knows that you are mine”. And with his last word, Steve’s tip was slipping through your folds and pushing into your hole. No foreplay, no teasing, just straight into it.

“Oh, fuck”, you gasped as there was a mix between pleasure and pain as you stretched around his cock. He was so big as he kept pushing inch after inch in.

Steve’s hand was on the top of your back, keeping you pushed down against the table that was thankfully screwed to the floor, having made the mistake of fucking so hard on it before that it had skidded across the floor. “You’re taking me so well baby girl, relax for me, just a little bit more”.

Releasing another heavy breath to try and relax the tension throughout your body, your greedy cunt took nearly all of him until his tip was brushing against your cervix. You wanted to tell him how good it felt, to be stretched around him, to feel him throbbing inside of you but you couldn’t muster up the words.

Steve took a second to look down at where your bodies were joined before finally beginning to thrust slowly in and out, attempting to give you time to adjust properly but as you let out a particularly high-pitched mewl, something within him snapped. The mafia leader began to fuck you, animalistically, hips snapping viciously against yours, your hips almost definitely going to have bruises beneath the skin with the way your body was being propelled into the table.

You were in blissful heaven, wanting nothing more than just this, feeling his heavy balls slapping against your clit, your walls clamping around his member as he smacked a quick hand against your arse cheek.

With the enthusiasm of the way you were being fucked, sweat began to form and drip over your body, causing the beautifully styled make-up on your face to melt into the white sheet that you were laying on. Once again though, you didn’t give a single fuck, becoming even louder with your desperate moans, even more so than the piano that was continuing to be planned in the corner of the room. In fact, the restaurant was continuing to run as usual, people still eating and drinking, not risking the wrap of either Steve or Bucky, they could only watch, but this was it.

Steve continued to pound into your cunt, hitting every beautiful spot that had you seeing stars. Bucky then knelt next to your head by the table, watching intently at your face, not that you could see with your eyes closed in pleasure, eyebrows knitted together in concentration and mouth gaped open to not hold back the beautiful sounds you wanted to admit.

The tightening was suddenly overpowering in your core, the release teething on the edge as you smacked your hand on the table. “Steve, Sir, please don’t stop”.

“Cum for me honey”, he encouraged out of breath, his hair sticking to his forehead from the amount of energy he was using. Your thighs clenched as you came hard, screaming out as your cunt fluttered around his cock, muttering Steve’s name repeatedly.

You weren’t even given a second to gather your breaths before Steve was pulling his cock out, once again manhandling your body with his large rough hands, turning you over so that you were now laying on your back across the table. Your head was leaning off of the edge of the table so you raised it up, looking at Steve as he positioned your legs up his body, feet resting against your shoulders.

Then Steve was fucking you again, just as voraciously as before, hands holding onto your thighs to keep them in place and give him something to pull back on with each of his thrusts. You admired the way he looked, tips of his cheeks now tinged with pink, muscles bulging under his holster and shirt, face completely overwhelmed with lust.

An ultra-cool hand was suddenly tilting back your head over the edge of the table so that you were now looking upside down at Bucky’s cock that he’d pulled out of his trousers. Instinctively, your mouth opened, knowing exactly what was coming and what you wanted.

“Gonna make me feel good, Mama?” Bucky asked, his voice husky and thick.

“Yes, please”. Your boyfriend groaned at your polite response, sliding his cock into your mouth. In this position, it was difficult to take control of the blowjob, instead trying to concentrate on sucking on the girthy member, feeling the veins popping and tasting the precum that was already leaking from the tip.

Working in time with Steve, Bucky made was in complete control as he thrust into your mouth, grunting in pleasure as he pushed your throat to the very limit, seeing it bulge before pulling out and allowing you to breathe.

You were dizzy with your head being in this position and the absolute domination of Steve with your cunt, continuing to fuck you hard. The adrenaline was pumping as you had to concentrate on your breathing but the overwhelming pleasure that was being pumped into you was almost blinding and eliminating all rational thoughts from your mind.

Steve was also quick to remind you between thrusts, “You’re ours, only ours!” He became more frantic and you knew he was going to cum, and as his hips suddenly stuttered, he released one of your thighs in the process, your leg flopping to the side giving him more space to rub against your clit.

Steve's hot cum was pumping into you, soaking your walls as you too were pushed over the edge, your convulsing cunt helping to milk Steve’s cock. This only caused your throat to constrict along with the rest of your body and without being warned, his orgasm came as a shock to him as well as Bucky was too spurting cum into your body which you rushed to swallow on instinct.

As he eased out of your mouth, tears had begun to leak out of the corners of your eyes, completing the cock-drunk look that had taken over you. 

“Easy Doll,” Bucky soothed as he helped you to sit up, holding up your body as the blood rushed from your head, Steve’s hands wandered up your thighs as he remained in position but your legs were now hanging off of the edge of the table.

Steve bent down first, kissing your cheek to bring you back to the moment, asking, “Do you want to stay here, or go home?”

“Go home”, was your honest answer.

Steve easily tucked himself back into the restraints of his pants, shouting to the manager, “Kyle, we’ll take our food to go”. Then in a much softer voice to Bucky, “Take her to the car, I’ll join you in a minute.”

As Steve moved away, Bucky replaced where he stood, still holding you up as you swayed slightly from the hard fucking session, you could feel the cum dripping out of you and onto the table and onto your thighs. Still not risking the glance around the room to see if people were staring, your eyes were glued to a button on Bucky’s chest instead.

“You ok, hot mama?”, Bucky asked with a hint of concern etched to his beautiful features, eyebrows raised slightly.

“Yeah”, your voice was only just audibly to him and you made the effort to look up into his eyes, the sight calming as he looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered in the world. You were feeling a little bit spacey so seeing his emotions so visible on his face, helped to ground you slightly. “I... I don’t think I can walk”.

“That’s ok, I’ve got you honey”, his face physically relaxed as he leaned in to kiss your temple, taking off his jacket to pull around your shoulders whilst also helping to pull your dress back down. Once you were covered, he eased a hand under your knees, a hand on your back to pick you up into his arms. 

You gripped his neck tightly, hiding your face as the two of you left the restaurant, moving towards the car that waited for you three. Bucky helped to ease you into the back of the car, easing the seatbelt across your chest before sliding in next to you.

“Hey Romanoff, just waiting on the boss”,  Bucky greeted his bodyguard Natasha from the driving seat. She nodded her head before turning in her seat to look at you, smirking widely through her dark lashes.

“Hey sugar, have a good meal?” Natasha teased causing you to smile and flush.

“I don’t quite think I’ve had my fill yet”, you joked back, grasping Bucky’s arm for comfort and warmth. The red-haired women’s smirk broadened into a grin before she faced forward. You got on well with Natasha and enjoyed having her around as much as you did Sam.

Leaning your face against Bucky’s arm, you breathed in deeply, savouring in his aftershave, ready to eat and be naked once you all returned home.

[plumbob-pudding]

For much of human history, children were dressed similarly or identical to adults and this was true for the Victorian era which saw children dressed in stiff heavy layers that didn't allow for play. By the 1900s, in line with adult styles, children clothing became much less elaborate. Little girls emulated the elongated silhouette fashionable for adult women with drop waist dresses while boys' clothing became increasingly sailor inspired.

The 1910s established children's clothing as separate to adult styles. Sailor outfits were all the rage, particularly for young boys. WW1 meant rationing so hemlines crept up and clothing became less ornate in construction and embellishments.

After the war, in the 1920s, children's fashion remained simple, gone were the velvets and silk of the Victorians, instead sturdy textiles like cotton were used. Layering had also become a thing of the past, outfits were now often simple one pieces.

The Great depression occured in the 1930s and it left many families destitute. Children's clothing was handmade and sturdy fabrics like denim were favoured; "flour sack" dresses also became common place.

By the 1940s, many families had recovered from the depression but WW2 and rationing still meant that clothing had to be handmade with what was available. Many magazines at the time included simple patterns and any fabric was used even old curtains.

The 1950s are defined by the baby boom. Lots more children around increased demand for children's clothing and for a majority of families, life and finances improved after the war therefore they had money to spend. This lead to mass-manufacture of clothing using synthetic fibres..Young girls fashions were increasingly feminine:full skirt dresses,similar to their mothers, with bows and other hair accessories.

Boys' clothing became sturdier to allow for increased physical activity as the government of many countries began to mandate compulsory phys ed due to high levels of poor fitness exposed by the draft.

[butchpillowprince]

Freshly manufactured butch again, and thank you for the answer before!! Would you actually have some advice for newly identified butches? Things you wish someone would have told you years ago when you first started out?

Thanks again!

You're welcome, and thanks for stopping by again! :) I love this question.

My advice for my past self when I was first transitioning toward androgyny/masculinity:

When you spend months dwelling on whether or not to cut your hair short, that's your sign to cut off all your hair. Do it.

Ditch your women's clothes, especially the pants (no pockets) and the panties (ugh) and the bras (barf). It's okay to embrace your natural chest and just wear sports bras. One day you'll even wear a binder and make yourself flatter. Remember when you were a feminine teenage girl and your flat chest was your biggest insecurity? Yeah. Now you love it. :) And you're not a girl, lol.

Buy the bowties and neck ties. The men's dress shirts and shoes. When it's time for your next wedding, go to a tailor for your first suit. Life is short, get the rainbow hair for Pride. Your first relationship won't last, but being in butch4butch love, even fleeting, will change and heal you. Your first butch4butch hookup will too. And no, they won't be the same person, sorry.

Read George's Boi. Explore your butch4butch sexuality. When George's Boi inspires you to write erotica, fucking go with it.

Queer community will also heal you. Keep seeking it out even when you don't find it in certain cities or spaces. Be yourself. Explore yourself. Question your gender. Try new names and pronouns if the idea tickles your fancy. Even if you end up being cis at least you reflected on yourself, and who knows, maybe you'll learn something new about you.

Butch community is hard to find but surprisingly easy to build. When you have ideas for a new butch project, just do it. Make it happen and you'll watch friends and community appear beside you.

It's okay to not be hypermasculine or the butchest butch in the room. Embrace the masculinity that is authentic and comfortable for you. Don't feign interest in hobbies or drinks or mannerisms that aren't really yours, don't worry over measures of physical strength or ability, don't feel pressure to top during sex exclusively or even at all, don't worry about not fitting a certain body type or stereotype. You're butch which means you're another beautiful iteration of butchness. And, it's okay to stop calling yourself "soft butch" because you feel like you're not butch enough to just claim the word "butch" alone. You are butch. You are. You are. You are.

I'm proud of you. Welcome home.

[maevesheart]

FOOLS - PART I

CORIOLANUS SNOW X CAPITOL!READER

note: continuing to use the mars family for reader, but different storyline than tolerate it.

PART I // PART II // PART III

summary: only fools would fall for coriolanus snow, and you’re the biggest fool of them all.

wc: 5.1k

tw: fingering, pet names, curse words

The sound of your blinds being torn apart pulls you from your peaceful slumber, and the now streaming sunlight causes you to rub your eyes and yawn.

Today was the announcement of the Plinth Prize, all of your fellow classmates would be seething when your name fell from the lips of Dean Highbottom.

The thought made you grin.

You had never once missed classed, and your grades were the very highest they could possibly be. The only thing standing in your way is Coriolanus Snow.

The boy who is just as intelligent and cunning as you are.

Rumors had been spreading for weeks as to who was going to win the lavish prize money, the most common names falling from lips were yours and Coriolanus.

It infuriated you.

The Mars family was the highest esteemed in all of the Capitol. Who deserved the prize more than you, of course, Y/N Mars?

Your Avox quickly left the room as you stood up from your massive ornate bed, feet lightly padding on the cold marble floors.

You made your way into your closet, where your long plum-purple colored dress hang. It was to your mid-thigh, a large bow sat on the back that draped to the floor. It was beautiful, made custom for you.

You slipped on a pair of thin tights and some black heels, allowing your Avox to meticulously curl your hair and do subtle yet elegant makeup upon your face.

You made your way down the marvelous marble staircase outside your bedroom, meeting your father and mother at the bottom.

“Here darling,” your mother smiled, placing her string of pearls around your neck, and delicately sliding in matching Pearl studs to your ears.

“Oh, mother, your pearls?” You smiled, your mother wore the pearls throughout the war and claimed they were what kept you all afloat.

In reality, it was your fathers expansive fortune and manufacturing company that produced the capitol’s guns and bombs, but the pearls were touching.

“Thank you,” you smiled, giving her a kiss on the cheek.

The ride to the Academy was short, and soon you waltzed into the building followed by your doting parents.

When you three entered the gathering room, where all of the Capitol’s brightest and richest stood, you father dispersed to speak to Serbo Plinth, and your mother found Mrs. Crane.

You quickly found Clemensia, your closest friend, and the two of you eased into simple conversation, discussing who you thought would win.

Clemmie assured you that the prize would soon be yours as the both of you made your way to fellow classmates Felix, Festus, and Arachne.

Arachne and you offered each other a quick hug before Felix and Festus were complimenting your dress and how marvelous it was.

“Thank you, boys,” you smile, loving the attention.

As you continue to indulge in their compliments, you feel a light touch on the back of your elbow, Coriolanus Snow now by your side.

“Finally, the Star pupil.” Arachne snottily says, looking down at Coryo’s shirt.

“Arachne,” he nods, smirking as he feels the annoyance radiating off your body.

“We were just talking about how lovely Y/N’s dress is, Coryo, don’t you agree?” Clemmie sets the bait. She has this feeling that Coriolanus and you have some deep set feelings for each other that have yet to reach the surface. You think it’s all just her imagination running wild.

But Clemmie doesn’t know about the few nights the two of you have spent together, in the back of your car, in your bed, anytime the two of you had been alone.

No one knows. And you plan on keeping it that way.

You feel Coryo’s eyes take over your figure, pausing briefly as he sets his sight on your cleavage peaking out.

“Yes, you look quite nice, Y/N.” He smiles, hand secretly toying with the end of your curls down the middle of your back.

Before you have a chance to react, Sejanus has found his way to your other side, offering you a slight peck on the cheek as greeting.

“Sejanus,” you smile, patting his arm.

The two of you were close, as you found Festus and Felix’s distaste for him to be rather childish and ignorant.

He was a nice, respectable boy. And your father and Serbo Plinth had worked closely during the war, your families were allied. Something that was especially so important now.

Coriolanus felt a tinge of jealousy as you leaned in to peck Sejanus’ cheek back. Everyone knew the two of you were close, yet it was still anger-provoking whenever he truly saw how close you two were.

Before Sejanus could fully join in the conversation, the familiar sound of Panem’s anthem began to play, signaling for you all to take your seats.

You sat between Clemmie and Coriolanus, eyes focused in front before you heard Sejanus offer a quick apology to Coryo, about something you failed to decipher.

Dr. Gaul’s sinister laugh boomed throughout the hall, and your eyes widened with shock.

She spoke of her responsibilities and how you all before her were the leaders of the new generation. You looked over to Coryo with confusion splayed on your face, his eyes wide and frantic.

Dr. Gaul stepped down from the podium and moved away for Dean Highbottom, who was once again drunk off morphling and slurring his words.

“I cannot believe they continue to let him speak in public,” Clemmie whispers, shaking her head.

“And here sit our own 24 top prospects, all waiting to hear the results of hard study in this prestigious institution.”

Your heart races as he continues to ramble on, “eager to learn who’s won that Plinth Prize, no doubt. And a golden future. However, I am here to tell you that there has been a change this year. One final assignment to prove your worth.”

Clemmie slumps back into her seat, you hear Festus behind you suck in his breath. This was it.

“…the prize will now be determined by who is the best mentor in the Hunger Games.”

The silence that follows is deafening. Against your better judgement, you are reaching for Coriolanus’s hand, and intertwine your fingers.

You knew how bad he needed this prize. You were one of the only people who knew.

His eyes flicker down to your hands twisted together, and he offers you a slight smile, but you know he is freaking out to his core.

Dean Highbottom announces how he will assign the tributes, and soon comes to sit in front of you all when the anthem once again plays out.

“Coryo..” you whisper, he looks over to you and you shake your head, a silent apology. He nods, accepting it, and shrugs. What is he supposed to do but pray he gets a good tribute from One or Two?

You and Sejanus secure the tributes from District Two, most likely his fathers doing.

You untangle your fingers from Coriolanus and reach across to grab Sejanus. You give his arm a squeez, assuring him that you are there.

He continues to look straight, obviously torn by this revelation.

Coriolanus finds himself even more annoyed, watching you fawn over the boy next to him. You were holding him first…

He immediately snaps himself out of it. He was showing weakness. He reminds himself that weakness is a curse, and there is no room for that in success.

Finally, the runt girl from District 12, belongs to Coriolanus.

He looks to the floor, shaking his head. You refrain from taking his hand again, knowing he would most likely shoo it away.

You and Arachne giggle as the girl floods the screen, wearing a rainbow dress. One quick glare from Coriolanus shuts you up and forces your eyes back on the screen.

Soon, the girl is shoving a snake down another girls back, and Coriolanus is quick to his feet, watching with rapt attention.

She starts to sing, a somber tune that you had never heard before.

“Singing?” You question, Arachne quickly adding in, “is she out of her mind?”

Coriolanus ignores you this time, eyes straight ahead.

Her singing is enchanting, and you focus in, laughing when she screams profanities into the microphone.

“Well, she’s obviously mentally ill.” Arachne claims, Sejanus still staring straight ahead, and your eyes trained on Coriolanus.

All of you quickly disperse out of the hall, your fathers hands are on your shoulders, shielding you from the press as you make your way to the car.

Once safely inside, he is stern and stoic, unwavering in his stance, “no. You will not do it.”

“Daddy, it’s just one games. We meet with the tributes maybe once, never let them get too close.”

You were fighting a battle already lost, you knew.

“Absolutely not Y/N. I will not have you frolicking around with district.”

He is seething, obviously feeling deeply betrayed and upset with Serbo, how could he not have told him?

“Please? I know I won’t win the prize, but it’s good experience.”

Your father can’t argue there. If you are to one day rule his empire with your siblings, then he must allow you to get some experience under your wing.

“Alright. But as soon as something goes wrong, which it will, you are out of the contest. Understood?”

“Understood.”

You’re laid in bed, a book propped up on your chest, trying your hardest to distract yourself from the confusing day you’ve had.

A light rap on the door shakes you from your focus.

“Come in,” you say, body slightly turning to see who would come this late in the night.

The gold handle of your massive white door turns, and to your great contentment it’s Coriolanus who silently walks in, shutting the door tightly behind him.

It wasn’t unlikely for Coriolanus to come to your home, usually you two worked on homework or studied together, but he never came at night.

The sight of his deep eye bags made your chest sink. You knew how he must be feeling.

“The Avoxes let me in,” he murmurs, making his way over to your bed.

He sits down on the edge next to you, and you feel the mattress lightly dip to support his weight.

You sit up, leaning your back against the headboard, and place your hand on his shoulder, soothing it up and down his back.

His back was to you, lightly hunched over.

“I talked to Tigris,” he speaks after moments of silence.

You hum, “what did she say?”

You lightly crawl over to him, wrapping yourself around his back, hands snaking around his waist and pulling him closer to you.

His body was warm, but you could feel his spine lightly stick out his back and the thought made you want to cry.

You place your cheek against his shoulder blade, and close your eyes, his presence easing you.

“She told me I should get the girl to trust me. Saying she’s probably so scared and feels alone right now.”

“I would be too,” you hummed back, eyes flitting up to get a better view of his face.

From your position, you can make out the trace of his nose and his light eyelashes, the moonlight coming in through your large windows accentuating his features.

He places one of his hands over yours, entwined across his lap.

“You will win, Coryo,” you assure him, a small whisper falling from your lips.

You weren’t confident, but he needed reassurance, and who were you to deprive him of what he needs most?

He doesn’t say anything, the two of you sitting in silence for a few moments.

He then turns around, glossy eyes staring straight into yours.

“Oh, love,” you coo, taking his cheek in your palm, and pulling him into you, wrapping your arms tightly around his body, one hand on the back of his head.

Coryo didn’t cry. That was weakness, and Coriolanus Snow did not show weakness.

“I need this scholarship, Y/N,” he quietly peeps, head buried in your shoulder.

You say nothing, hand massaging his scalp, and the other lightly rubbing his back.

You let him compose himself before he pulls back, and you lightly tug his arm, scooting over and giving him room to slip under the covers next to you.

You curl around his body, him only wearing a white t-shirt and loose lounge pants.

You place a small kiss to the back of his neck, assuring him you’re there as you begin to hear his light snoring fill the room.

You wake up to an empty bed. The only sign of Coriolanus even being there is the lingering scent of his cologne on your bedsheets and the light indentation in your mattress.

You want to cry. Of all the times you had consoled him, held him, given him the most sacred parts of you, he up and leaves, like you mean nothing.

Obviously you had to mean something if he kept coming back, right?

You care for him, deeply, and despite your agreement to keep your sexual relationship hushed, you cannot help but to want to care for him.

You hastily get dressed and ready, and throw a few books into your pack, rushing down to the kitchen. You have Cook pack a blueberry muffin into your pack, knowing Coryo won’t have the means for breakfast.

You have the driver take you straight to school instead of your usual stop for coffee.

Entering the classroom, Coryo’s usual seat next to you is bare. He’s never once skipped class. Why would he start now?

The screen in your classroom brights up, showing Luvky Flickerman outside the monkey cage at the zoo, where the tributes fall into.

A bright red uniform sticks out, and you’re on your feet, prying for a better look.

Dean Highbottom is watching unimpressed, Sejanus on your other side shaking his head in disbelief.

You realize it is Coriolanus and a gasp falls from your lips, he is standing with Lucy Gray, his tribute, and watch as he places his Grandma’am’s precious rose in her hair.

You couldn’t believe him. He left your bed to go be with that… that district slut!

Distaste brews in your mouth as he takes her hand and parades her around to all the young children. Clemmie watches as a scowl takes over your features.

He smugly looks into the camera, and you feel as if he’s directly looking to you, as he gives his cunning responses to every question Lucky throws his way. You know Dean will be far from pleased.

Before you know it, Coriolanus is entering the classroom, and you give him the meanest stare you can conjure.

Sejanus starts to stick up for him as Coryo takes his seat next to you. You side-eye him as he sits down, wanting him to know how stupid he is for putting his life at risk.

“Have you lost your mind?” You whisper through gritted teeth.

He doesn’t answer you, giving you a snide look before turning to the sound of Dr. Gaul entering the room.

She waltzes in, congratulating Coryo for his initiative. You scoff, and he looks down on you, eyes narrowing.

Dr. Gaul promptly leaves, and a silence engulfs the room.

Soon, your fellow peers are whispering to each other, trying to figure out how Coryo ended up in that cage.

Sejanus is silent, eyes on his shoes.

You stick your hand deep into your pack and pull out the muffin from earlier, not wanting it to go to waste.

Without another word, you shove the muffin into Coryo’s hands under the desk, and catch his eyes softening as he looks over to you.

“Dean? May I be excused?” You keep your composure, quietly slipping out of the classroom.

Clemmie watches Coryo, how he lightly shakes his head before shoving the muffin into his pack and jumping to his feet, rushing to follow you out the classroom.

He finds you in the library, your pack sitting at a mahogany table which gives you away.

He sets his down on the same table, and sets off between the rows of hardback books to find you.

This library was sprawling, three-stories of endless books, it could take hours to find you.

“Y/N?” He quietly calls out, hoping you’re nearby.

He hears a scoff a row over, quickly darting down the isle to find the one that the noise comes from.

As he rounds the corner, there you are, leaning against the wall at the end, arms crossed against your chest.

He thinks he sees a tear stain down your normally perfect makeup and complexion, and crosses over, hands falling on your face.

He turns your head in his hands, checking for signs of pain.

“What’s wrong?” He sounds worried, and you laugh, pushing him off of you.

His face twists in a mix of confusion and anger, hands falling to his sides.

You shake your head, biting your lip as you look up. You’re no longer upset, just majorly pissed off.

“You left my bed, to go greet your bitch from the districts.” You spit out at him, eyes narrowing as you watch him comprehend your words.

He knew you could get jealous sometimes, but didn’t realize it went quite this deep.

“Y/N/N—“

“Nope. I don’t want to hear it.” You hold your hand up, silencing him. You close your eyes, sighing.

But before you can open them back up, you feel Coriolanus’ lips on yours, molding together like they do so perfectly.

His hands grip your face, pulling you into him, your hands gripping onto his biceps.

The kiss is passionate, the air being sucked out of your lungs.

He only kisses you like this when he’s hungry for you, absolutely starving. When he needs you like a feral animal.

He knows what it does to you.

You use all your strength to pull back, hands resting on his chest to keep him from lunging back in.

“I’m sorry,” is all he says, “you know I would never touch another girl. Especially one from the districts.”

You nod, knowing that while your jealousy was just, it was also a little exaggerated.

The familiar sound of lunch time’s bell rings out, and Coryo backs off of you, and the two of you head for the cafeteria.

You walk with him until you spot Clemmie, excusing yourself from Coryo’s side.

You follow Clemmie to your usual table, parting with Coryo, you two girls sitting with Arachne and Livia, who both have lots to say about their chances in the games.

You ignore them, peeking over to where Coryo sits, across the cafeteria. Sejanus is sat across from him, the two of them deep in conversation.

You watch as they pack up their lunches, and stand from their spots, rushing to the nearest exit.

You stand to follow, and Arachne trails after you.

You follow them all the way to the zoo, and you once again brew anger in your core.

Arachne kneels before her tribute and begins to tease her with the food, and you watch with the audience as Coryo gives his full lunch to Lucy Gray and Jessup.

You come up to his side and snake your arm around his, plastering the most sickly-sweet smile on your face that you can muster.

“And who might this beautiful girl be, Coriolanus?” Lucy Gray asks, a slight smile pulling at her lips as she eats.

Coriolanus is taken aback by your display of affection and sudden appearance at the zoo. You’re the last person he would have expected to show up.

“This is my classmate, Y/N Mars.”

The words my classmate falling from his lips when describing you does not settle right in your stomach. But you two haven’t established what you are… just that you want each other all to yourselves.

“Splendid to meet you, Lucy Gray. That dress is just gorgeous!” You claim, talking with your hands.

Coriolanus holds back from rolling his eyes, remembering the snide comments you made at the reaping about her dress and how she must be mentally unhinged.

“Thank you, Miss Y/N.” You watch like a hawk as Lucy Gray scarfs down her sandwich and then eyes your spectacular ruby ring upon your middle finger.

“Beautiful ring,” she compliments, Coryo’s eyes flickering down to the present you received for your 17th birthday.

“Oh! This old thing, it’s quite small, I believe. I think I’ll ask for a bigger one next year,” you smile, watching Jessup and Lucy Gray’s faces twist with slight envy.

“Right,” Lucy Gray slightly smiles, sitting down.

You and Coriolanus look over to Arachne, who is waving food in front of her tribute’s face, obviously taunting her.

You purse your lips, undoing yourself from Coryo’s side. “I’m going to tell her to stop it, she might get killed over there.”

Coryo nods and watches as you make your way down to Arachne’s side.

He doesn’t want you to get too close, knowing that Arachne and her tribute are a seam ready to burst at any moment.

Just as he’s looking back to Lucy Gray, he hears your shriek and spins around, immediately at your side.

Arachne is on the ground, choking on the loss of air, a glass bottle sticking out from her neck.

“Y/N!” He screams, next to you in seconds, trying to pull you away from the monkey cage.

“Help!” You screech, using your red Academy coat to try to stop the blood.

Coriolanus falls on top of you to shield you from the gun shots that ring out, heading straight past your head to the tribute behind bars.

“Oh, Arachne,” you smooth her hair down, your eyes teary and glossy, watching as she lays limp, no longer struggling.

Peacekeepers and Sejanus reach you two at the same time, Sejanus pulling you up off the ground, and into his chest, Coriolanus watching as the Peacekeepers escort all of you away.

Coryo seethes with envy, watching you tuck your head into Sejanus’ chest as he hauls you away, loud sobs falling from your lips.

He shouldn’t be jealous, Sejanus is just comforting you. You had just watched your close friend die, how could Coriolanus be jealous while you grieve.

As the three of you renter the Academy, Sejanus stops walking, halting your movements as well, coming face-to-face with your father.

“Mr. Mars,” Sejanus nods, and your father is quick to lift you into his arms, silent whimpers coming from your lips.

“Thank you, boys,” he nods to Coryo and Sejanus, and the two reluctantly continue their movement back to the cafeteria.

“C’mon darling, let’s go home,”

Coriolanus had gone back that night to visit Lucy Gray, to make sure she was alright.

“You must love her, Coriolanus,” Lucy Gray spoke, lightly smiling while shaking her head.

“What?” He cocked an eyebrow.

“Your friend, Y/N. You shielded her body with your own. I saw the way you watched to make sure she wouldn’t get too close to Arachne.”

The wheels in Coriolanus’s head were turning, reenacting the events of earlier that day.

“And I gather she likes you just as much,” Lucy Gray finishes, “she sure doesn’t like you spending so much time with me,”

“Nonsense, Y/N is a close friend, that’s all.” He dismissed the topic like it wasn’t anything at all.

“Alright then, but I’d imagine she won’t wait these entire games for you to admit your feelings. That other boy, the one who held her, he seems quite keen as well.”

With that, Coriolanus felt his jaw tighten, angered by the idea of anyone touching you other than him. Especially Sejanus Plinth touching you.

With a quick nod, Coriolanus turned on his heel, and began his venture to your penthouse.

It was pitch black out, yet Coriolanus found himself scaling the outside of your building, finally rapping his knuckles against the pristine glass covering your window.

He sees straight in, you curled up under your silk sheets, hair around you like a halo.

He had snuck in through your window countless times now, and he lightly pressed on the bottom, and the window gave way, allowing him just enough room to crawl through and lightly pad to your bed.

He slipped off his shoes and opened the covers, sliding in and curling around you.

His finger traced shapes onto your skin, trying his hardest to calm both himself and you.

You lightly started to stir, and finally turned to face Coryo, he gave you a small tight-lipped smile, propping himself up on one elbow.

“Hi, Y/N/N.”

“Hi, Coryo,” you smile, nuzzling in closer to him.

The two of you sit in comfortable silence, your head on his chest, listening to the beat of his heart.

“I was so scared,” you murmur out, Coriolanus sensing the vulnerability in your voice, something you normally only let him see.

He pulled you closer into him, softly smoothing your hair.

“I won’t let anything ever touch you, Y/N.” He states like it’s the simplest thing in the world.

Coriolanus had declared his feelings for you vaguely a few other times, usually only when he was buried inside of you.

This was different. You were barring your soul, showing him weakness.

“Do you mean it?” You whisper out, lightly pushing off his chest to look him in the eyes.

“More than I’ve ever meant anything else.” His eyes are stern, his face unwavering.

A smile starts to overtake your lips, and Coriolanus places his hand on your cheek, lightly bringing you down to his level.

You lightly move his curls out of his face, and the two of you lean into each other, lips meeting halfway.

This kiss is different than your others, it’s slower, not as heated. It’s a kiss that two people who love each other would share.

“It could’ve been you, Y/N. How could I have lived with myself,” he lightly huffs out, in between quiet kisses.

“But it wasn’t me, Coriolanus. It wouldn’t have been your fault,” you reassure him, hand finding his under the covers.

“My father is removing me from the mentorship. Highbottom is finding another student to take my place. Nothing can touch me now,” you smile, despite being deeply upset by your father removing you from the possible achievement of a lifetime. 

“I’m sorry,” he coos, genuine feeling in his words.

You fall back into him, lips connecting once more, his hands roaming, pulling you into his lap, legs going to either side of his hips.

The kiss is still the same, but now his tongue finds its way into your mouth, somehow bringing your lips even closer together.

His hands are all over you, groping your ass from over your silk pink pajama shorts, another hand gathering a fist full of your hair and wrapping it throughout his fingers, pulling you as close to your body as possible.

He had never been so vulnerably affectionate before, but the thought of losing you to someone else wrung his heart dry. He wanted you all to himself.

Soon he was pushing your shorts down, helping you quickly discard of them.

You weren’t wearing any panties, and Coryo felt himself getting hard at the sight of your bare mound.

“Fuck,” he curses, eyes dark and filled with lust. He watches as your tongue darts out over your bottom lip, and he pulls you back into him, sticking two of his fingers into you at the same time.

His lips on yours stifles your moan, and the sound of his fingers pumping in and out of your slick folds is the only thing to be heard in your large bedroom.

You start to squirm above him, the feeling of his fingers inside of you being immensely pleasurable.

He then uses his thumb to start massaging your clit, a pit beginning to form deep in your core, threatening to soon burst.

“Fuck, Coryo,” you moan, your head finding place in the crook of his shoulder.

He kisses up your bare shoulder, entwining his free hand with one of yours, “say you’re mine,” he groans, feeling you start to grind down on his fingers and slightly on his bulge.

“I-I’m yours, Coryo—“ you mewl, lightly biting his shoulder to stop from waking your parents.

“You’re mine only,” he quietly tells you, fingers picking up a faster pace as you become undone.

“I’m gonna come,” you pant, and with one last circling of his thumb, you come undone on his lap, spilling all over his fingers still deep inside of you.

He tenderly pulls them out, as you sink down into his chest, and bring the two fingers up to his mouth, sucking off all the juices that he could never get enough of.

You watch with blown pupils, he quickly reconnects your lips, and you taste yourself all over his mouth.

“I love you,” he says, pulling back, tucking your hair behind your ears.

Of all the times you’d been intimate with Coriolanus, he had never been this gentle and caring.

“Do you really?” You ask, refusing to believe his confession. You had only been waiting for those three words to leave his mouth for what felt like eternity.

“I do, really, how could I not?” he grinned as you smiled, pecking your lips. “I love you, Coriolanus. I’m yours,”

He grins at your confession, a sense of pride overcoming his being knowing that he’s won, no other man will touch you for as long as he lives.

“You’ll stay this time, right?” You ask, all walls down, barring the most vulnerable corners of your soul.

“I wouldn’t dream of leaving,” he assured you, kissing your shoulder.

Only fools would ever fall for Coriolanus Snow and his cunning love spells. But you were the biggest fool of them all, weren’t you?

**

[writingsofwesteros]

Being the brother between Viserys and Daemon and being the heir. Viserys marries Alicent to try to have a son but dies before he can get her pregnant. Otto convinces you to marry his daughter so she can have a second shot at being queen, you get Rhaenyra and Daemon to chill tf out by letting them marry… after you have your first child with Alicent. That way they’ll actually be happy at the announcement.

Alicent half expects the wedding night to be the same as her last one, a single round of awkward, oddly formal, quiet sex. Imagine her surprise when she’s barely entered the honeymoon suite before your head is up her skirt, before you hitch up her wedding dress and bend her over her vanity.

She’s scandalised, both by your actions and the sounds they force out of her, she almost feels ashamed by how much she enjoys it.

Rhaenyra and Daemon manufacturing situations where you two are alone together during the day, not just at night, cuz the sooner you have your heir the sooner they can get married. Rhaenyra encouraging her to get pregnant, Daemon egging on your inappropriate impulses. “You’re the king, why not fuck your wife on the small council table?”

Alicent can’t fucking believe some of the places she’s let you have her. The council chamber, a public hallway, the stables, the dragon pit-

Alicent discovers you have a thing for filling her up right before public events. Once her hair is set and her dress is on her maids fly out the room like bats out of hell before you show up and either bend her over or she climbs on top of you and rides you as fast as she can without fucking up her appearance or being late.

Poor girl can’t go a day without your tongue or your cock inside her, blinding her with pleasure and making a mess for her to walk around with all day. But still, she prays for a girl instead of a boy, cuz maybe that means she’ll have the excuse to do it all again.

!!!!!!! Oh you know she has more babies than in canon ;)

Baby Aegon being loved on and so precious as he follows his mama and papa around the place.

Daemon and Rhaenyra making situations worse for their own benefit is so on par for them, love it.

Imagine him actually having liked Alicent before she married his brother and hated the sight of them together