#outfits i assembled for her-)

[markanddebbie-protectionprogram]

comparison and analysis on eve and mark's colors

i know this miggght be me overthinking but i really need to get it out of my system ahahajshajsha

Pink is definitely Eve's signature color, it's the main color of her costume yet somehow you don't see that in her casual attire. As for Mark, no doubt his signature color is blue (even yellow can be included), and that's obvious in both his costume and his casual attire.

this post contains pics from season 1 and the atom eve special, putting a cut here cause this is lowkey long so,,,, oops-

Eve wore pink a LOT when she was a kid, it's in her every outfit throughout all the time skips in the special. When a character has a signature color, it's something that's reflected in (nearly all of) their outfit/s.

So where did the pink go on Eve's casual attire on season 1? Where did she even got the idea of wearing yellow of all colors when it's so far from her favorite color? There's red that when you mix it with white, it gives you pink. So she could have had a red top and white pants in her current casual attire, but that's not the case.

We got our answer on who she got the idea of wearing yellow from in the Atom Eve special: it was from Betsy.

There's a key thing that I noticed from the shade of yellow Betsy wore and what Eve is currently wearing. Betsy's yellow seemed happier. It was more vibrant.

Comparing Betsy's yellow to Eve, Eve's yellow is lighter. It's dull. As if it was drained of its vibrancy. And with what we saw of Eve's past in the special, it checks out that she must've have become so, so tired of so many things.

In animated series, yellow is often associated with warm, happy, and energetic characters. But when it comes to cinematography, yellow represents other things. From the link, I think cowardice is the symbolism of Betsy's yellow - due to her fear of Eve not being "normal" and her inability to accept Eve as she is. And @mandareeboo even pointed out Betsy telling Eve to "try harder" which leads to the symbolism of yellow that I associate with Eve: insecurity. There is no bigger source of insecurity than having your own parent say that to you, especially at a young age when a lot of things feel they're scary and overwhelming that you need a parent to guide you through it but instead they just tell you to repress yourself.

It's no wonder that Eve's yellow looked pale in comparison to past Betsy's yellow, pretending for years must have been exhauasting.

(Before anyone comment that Zak could be the reason Eve wore yellow instead of Betsy, I have an explanation I'm going to be giving later so please bear with me on this one hahahsdfjahsfda)

Now on to Mark!!

In the Atom Eve special, Debbie wore no shades of either blue or green. In fact, her top's color leans more to give a nod to Nolan's signature color (red). That, and their family pictures from season 1 showed that aside from Debbie, there was a time that Mark wore red too.

Compared to Eve and Betsy, I find it so fascinating that the opposite applies for Mark and Debbie.

We can see that kid Mark's shorts and top are currently the colors of Debbie's top and pants.

It was a nice switch to see the mom's colors reflecting her child. You often see the kid copying the color of their parent/s. This doesn't necessarily mean Debbie copied Mark, as a mom, this is her way of commemorating her son.

The two stripes on Mark is a brighter shade of aquamarine while Debbie's top is a darker shade of Caribbean green, and both colors are near to each other in the color spectrum. Which is definitely something we can describe their relationship: they are close to each other.

I always thought that the stripes across Mark's chest was sort of a subtle design thing to show that he keeps his mom, who represents his humanity, close to his heart. Seeing that Debbie got her colors from kid Mark adds a whole new layer to it.

This is the part where I compare the then & the now:

The reason why I mentioned Eve would never have picked up yellow with Zak in mind was that he was just a temporary figure in her life. Eve used to wear pink so much before, it was her favorite - so one can assume that the color itself brought her joy. You see Betsy wearing pink (this is the episode Eve left "home"). So my reasoning for Betsy wearing this color was to appease Eve, while Eve wore yellow to represent her trying to please her mom.

For Debbie and Mark, it was crucial for Debbie to wear the colors Mark wore as a kid. Throughout the series, we see how desperate Mark wanted to be like Nolan, to be good with his powers so he can be a good hero. One would think that Mark would have incorporated red in his outfit, but he didn't. What stood in the place of red in Mark's outfits was yellow, a color that's close to red in the rainbow arrangement. Using the same link for the meanings of the color yellow in cinematography from earlier, Mark's yellow symbolizes two things: naivety and idealization.

See how Mark has a yellow button-up underneath his sweater? It's his naivety about his father, it's not all out there yet it's on all the ends of his sweater as if making sure you know that the yellow is something that should be seen. And Mark's yellow I in his costume? That's idealization. In his eyes, Omni-Man is (probably, I can't speak for Mark 100%) the best hero. He idolizes his dad, there was never a doubt about it. He has put Nolan in such a high standard that there was more yellow in his costume to represent his idealization rather than his own signature blue.

That's why it's so important that Debbie wore his colors from the Atom Eve special in season 1. That Mark sees that on his mom. It was a reminder of kid Mark. That even then, he was just as precious. That he mattered even wayyyy before he had powers. That he mattered because of his humanity.

[inhales deeply to catch my breath] NOW FOR THE FINAL PART!!

i'm sorry this is so long i had so many thoughts about colors, color symbolism in characters is so personal to me.

you guys can skip these pics and list cause this is kinnnnd of a stretch now hahajsdfha - feel free to go straight at the portion after the bullet points end, that's just my final ramblings dedicated for season 2

Back to topic of colors!! It's obvious at this point how relevant both Mark and Eve's moms are when it comes to their colors. So it leaves me with two remaining things about Mark and Eve: (1) the color red on Mark on his casual outfit and (2) the color pink on Eve on her casual outfit

The only moments we saw red on Mark that isn't blood is when he wore his bag. Now I know this is a pretty small thing but that bag could literally be ANY other color - and it isn't, it's specifically red. It could have been white to match his shoes or black to match his hair but it's neither of that. It's red. It's Nolan.

I think it's really important to know the relevance of that red bag, especially in those two pictures. (1) The moment Todd was harassing Amber and Mark wanted to intervene, it's totally obvious that Mark carries the heavy fact that at the moment, he's powerless unlike his dad. And it sucks. Cause he's his father's son and even though he carries his blood, at the time, he doesn't carry Nolan's powers. It doesn't stop him from defending Amber, but it still hurts bothliterally from Todd's hits and emotionally. Mark's carrying the feeling of inadequacy cause he has no idea how to defend himself in this situation, his dad never taught him how to fight because he didn't have powers.

(2) The second picture was Mark rushing to school because his training with his dad made him late for class. He got powers now, and it's literally dragging him from his education (among other things and that's including his relationship with Amber). His power of flight, no matter how fast it is, doesn't get him to places on time. Even when he got his powers, he still had problems. They actually piled up now.

Now as for Eve, sure her casual attire doesn't have any pink on it but her bags are pink!! (1) The first picture of her was when she and Mark met at school. During my first watch, I found it cute that she held on to the straps cause it's a little habit of mine when I wear backpacks. Then at the (2) other picture where she had her luggage out so she can run away from "home", I noticed they're pink too. And it's a small observation but compared to Mark that just lets his bag hang down, Eve holds on to her bags.

The bags are both pink, and pink is her color. It's not a piece or part of her, it's her. Pink has been something she deprived herself to wear but it's something she still wants to keep, even if it's just with bags. It's the thing she's comfortable to carry, it's something she wants to hold in her hands.

I know bags are a practical item for any student to have and I overthought a lot about their bags' colors but yeah hahasdfjasdfha I'm done with that now

CLOSING WORD TIMEEEE HAHAHADSFAHFAHA

man that was a lot, anywayssss

The season 2 poster showed that Debbie has a new outfit. As for Mark and Eve, they're both wearing their hero costumes.

Slight spoilers from the comics: When Nolan left, there was a time that Mark began to dress himself in a style similar to Nolan (I can't tag op for some reason :(().

I feel there's a big chance Mark and Eve will also have new casual attires this coming second season.

Mark is likely to dress similar to Nolan just like in the comics. He will definitely have questions about his identity now that he knew the truth about Nolan, so I think Mark won't be able to wear his usual colors to show that he's figuring things out.

Mark could also wear that blue and black costume, the one that doesn't have the yellow anymore. Because he won't be idolizing his father's heroic persona anymore.

Mark, of course, misses his dad but he won't be looking up to him anymore after what happened.

As for Eve's season 2 casual look though, now that she has her own treehouse and starting to feel free from her parents, I hope she allows herself to incorporate pink in her clothing. She deserves it <33

[passionpluto]

okay so it looks like the neo blind boxes are regular plushie size still (or at least target plushie size)

time for me to get back into gacha, i guess, 'cause i've been wanting that aisha plush literally since it came out (even if i have to go against my baser wing-loving instincts and get the wingless one)

[yourqueenb]

MC sweetie, do you know that you’re— nvm

[byberbunk2069]

New outfit for a new Corpo Netrunner run

[kingofmyborrowedheart]

I’m nervous that this shirt I want is going to sell out while I’m in class.

[tender-rosiey]

“A BIT GENTLER, PLEASE?”

— gojo, nanami, geto, and sukuna feeling their baby kick (f!reader)

GOJO SATORU:

satoru was always all over you, one clingy and affectionate husband.

truthfully, while you would like to say that he is annoying and is making you regret ever getting pregnant, you have to admit that he makes being pregnant a lot easier to endure. his light-hearted way of speaking puts you at easy somehow.

he also made it very obvious that he is excited for the baby, maybe even more than you’re. one of the many ways he shows his enthusiasm is through buying baby clothes and baby equipment and I mean a shit ton of them.

that’s why you’re not surprised when he enters the house with yet another batch of baby clothes, “wifey, I am home!”

you get up and waddle your way to him, pressing a kiss to his cheek, “what did you get this time?”

“I thought you would never ask,” he smirks before pulling out each and every one of the outfits he got.

you’re sat on the couch with a cup of your favorite warm drink as you listen to his rambles, “first off, I got this really cute blue dress! call it a dad’s instinct but I think she will have my gorgeous eyes,” he grins.

you nod absentmindedly as he continues, “second, I got this yellow jump suit? overalls? dungarees?” he switches his accent in the end and you roll your eyes. he resumes, “eh, I don’t care, but it’s pretty so who cares?”

he puts the clothes aside before kneeling in front you, hand resting on your stomaxh, “right, baby?” he coos, “daddy’s going to get you all the pretty outfits you want!”

you’re about to drift to sleep while your husband busies himself with the baby, but you’re quickly brought back to consciousness when you feel her kick against your stomach.

your husband’s gasp quickly follows after before he presses his ear to your stomach, “can you do that again for me, pretty?”

his other hand moves to hold your own and he guides your hand to his hair, “somehow, this is making me realize just how close she is to finally join us, right, wifey?”

“right, ‘toru,” you smile softly and he quickly starts peppering your face with kisses, murmuring about how his pretty wife is simply irresistible.

NANAMI KENTO:

whenever someone asks you about kento, you can’t find the words to stress just how much of a sweetheart he is. he was always a caring and attentive man.

yet, somehow it amplified after your pregnancy: he helps you rest as much as he can, cooks for you, and gets you all the snacks you would like.

you also remember the first time you told him that your feet hurt, and he ended up massaging it for you. you cried that day.

in summary, he never left you in need of anything, like right now for example.

“y/n, would you like anything else?”

a dopey smile is plastered on your face as you relax further in the cushions, feet propped up on the pillow your sweetheart of a husband got.

he places your favorite snacks right by your side. you cup his face and press a lingering kiss on his cheek, “no, thank you, kento.”

he nods and takes a seat beside you. he takes your hand into his and starts rubbing your hand, “we should start preparing the baby’s room,” he murmurs softly.

you nod, head resting on his shoulder, “you’re right. we need to welcome our little princess well.”

he chuckles and his hand moves to rest on your stomach, “I assembled the crib already so that’s something to be proud of.”

nanami’s arm is wrapped around your shoulder and you snuggle closer into his chest, giggling, “my strong, independent, and reliable husband,” you sigh happily, “whatever will I do without you?”

he half-heartedly rolls his eyes, “flattery is getting you nowhere.”

“but it does!” you laugh and he lightly tickles you. your hand rests on your stomach, alongside his. you smirk, “what do you think, baby? is mommy right?”

to your absolute delight, the little girl kicks against your womb making you squeal and instantly look at your husband, “kento, did you feel that?!”

“…yeah,” his face is one of awe. she kicks once again and nanami can’t help but press a kiss to your stomach, “looks like she is a strong, healthy baby.”

 ���just like her dad,” you chuckle but stop to think about it for a moment before concern over takes your face.

nanami’s gaze quickly snaps to you, “what’s wrong?”

“if she will be as strong as you then god help my uterus.”

GETO SUGURU:

geto gets a little busy at times, but he does do his best to make time for you.

in addition to that, nanako and mimiko love hanging out with you so it kind of puts him at ease, knowing that you’re accompanied by someone.

today, he was doing some of his usual works in the establishment? shrine? eh whatever.

no fiber of his being expected the girls to burst into the room, grins filling their faces, as they urgently call him, “geto-sama! you have to see what just happened!”

with no hesitation, he abandons the followers and quickly follows the girls. he asks them, voice laced with concern, “is y/n okay? did something happen?”

the girls giggle as they finally near your room. mimiko speak up, “she is okay! but something important really did happen!”

somehow, it sends geto more into panic, because just what happened and why is it so important to the point they had to call him?

after a while, they are finally there, and geto wastes no time in sitting by your side, hands and eyes inspecting your body for an injury.

you giggle, “’calm down, suguru,” you take his hand and guide it to your stomach, “can you feel it?”

“feel it? what do you mean—“ he pauses upon the little kick against his palm. he smiles, actually grins, quietly before looking you in the eyes.

you nod with a smile of your own, while he leans down to kiss your stomach then your hand.

he rests his head against your stomach, “how are you, little buddy?”

geto chuckles softly, “better not cause trouble for your pretty mom,” his eyes lock with yours, “I hate to see her in pain or discomfort.”

you roll your eyes before patting your husband’s head, “you’re quite the charmer, aren’t you?”

“I would rather only charm you, y’know,” he chuckles.

the both of you completely forget about the pair of girls standing at the door way, each snapping a bunch of photos of the moment in front you.

nanako snickers a little before teasing, “that line was a bit cheesy, no?”

he quirks an eyebrow at them and they quickly flee away. with a soft sigh and a gentle chuckle, he goes back to admiring you, hand rubbing circles on your stomach.

RYOMEN SUKUNA:

it’s safe to say that sukuna was surprised with the news of your pregnancy, but he came to terms with it quicker than you expected.

he just had to sit with himself a bit and understand that the ‘brat’ in you was his ‘brat’ as well.

he also found himself staring at your stomach longer than he would like. he started to really think about how life will go on from this point onwards.

he is a feared man, the king of curses, with no weaknesses to ever exploit.

that is until you came into his life. he grew fond of you and the rest is history. right now, though, you’re carrying his child.

after a long day, he finally enters your chambers and finds you fast asleep.

he guesses that carrying a child of his own must be more exhausting than that of a normal man. his feet take him to you and his figure towers over your sleeping form.

he watches your expression contort ever so slightly as you stir, perhaps in seek of your comfort.

he sits by your side and his hand traces your every feature, nails slightly grazing you but never hurting you. finally, it reaches your stomach and he frowns lightly.

he sighs, “just what the hell am I going to do with you?”

he feels a light kick against his palm.

his eyes widen at the movement and his hand involuntary presses against your stomach once more, wanting to feel the kick once again. he narrows his eyes, “what? you think that light kick is fit for the kid of the king of curses?”

as if understanding what he said, the baby delivers one rough and tough kick to your abdomen. you wince and whine at the pain, “sukuna, don’t be mean to the baby…”

“I am not trying to, woman,” he grumbles, “that kid is just short-tempered.”

sukuna is sporting quite the frown but it doesn’t stop his hand from massaging your stomach and you hum in content before sassing him, “oh wow, I wonder where did he get that from.”

you squeak as you feel a pinch to your side. you glare at sukuna who glares at you back before replying, “he got it from one stubborn woman who happens to be mine.”

taglist: @magenta-cat-drawings @pompompurin1028 @scul-pted @dazaisdeathwish @requiem626k @nameless-shrimp @shinys-bsd-world-1 @sonder-paradise @ravenina14 @jessbeinme15s-notebook @todorokichills @ginneko @missrown @shrynkk @simplyxsinned @beautiful-is-boring @starlostlaiba @izukus-gf @irethepotato @thekaylahub @dazaisbloodybandages @aeanya @sweetcloudsimp @moon-catto @the-midnightskies @pianopuppygirl @gojosblackqueen @kryscent @kunikida-simp @whoami-72 @fiona782 @kisakitwister @imjustasimpxd @psychopotatomeme @dreamcastgirl99 @watyousayin @doobiebochana @laylasbunbunny @hojicha-expresso @4sat0ruu @nineooooo @chuuyasboots @alekssashka7 @rieejjyubi02 @wemma67 @nothisispatrick300 @fallencrescentmoon @etheviese @ho34gojo

copyright © tender-rosiey

do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported

[isuckatwritingsobenice]

Infernal Shadows 02

Synopsis: Being one of the most powerful overlords in Hell, you like to keep up with colonies and overlord plans. Recently with the new extermination date out, you hold your annual gala sooner than usual. You hadn’t expected to get in the middle of the already heated feud between the Radio Demon and the head of Vox Tech.

Warnings: She/Her pronouns used for the reader, mentions of blood, voodoo?, Angel Dust being a horn-bag, Reader is referred too as Madame to the public. Vox and Alastor feud because I live for it.

Song for this chapter: HAUSER - Adagio (Albinoni)

A/N: I’m so glad part one did well! I really liked this idea and hoped other people would too. As always comment if you want to be tagged and I will tag you in the next post! I wanted this to be three parts, but depending on how much I can fit in this chapter and the next one, I’ll see if I need to make four parts. The song at the beginning of this chapter is meant to be played when the line “ The music picked up” Is read. Skip to 5:35 for it to play smoothly, or as smoothly as possible.

Word count: 3.k or something over that idk I got too lazy to count :(

Taglist: @dollops-of-delusion @nebusokuxp @scrunchss @rosedasy @valluvz @chesstras @pishybowl @iaaeav @forgotten-blues @22carolina08 @roboticsuccubus83 @doflamingadonquixote

Navigation!! // Masterlist!!! // Serendipity Writes (event) // Part One. // Part three.

Within, the grand foyer unveiled itself, revealing a sweeping staircase adorned with a rich, mahogany handrail in stark contrast against a black and white color scheme. Crystal chandeliers, dangling from lofty black ceilings, cast their brilliance upon white walls adorned with ornate mirrors. Plush Victorian-era furnishings, upholstered in rich black and white fabrics, adorned the parlor rooms, establishing cozy settings for guests to assemble and engage in enriching conversations. Each room murmured tales of a past era – intricately patterned black and white wallpaper, frames gilded in black to showcase classical art, and a subtle aroma of aged wood and lavender lingering in the air, harmonizing with the monochromatic elegance. The guests walking in all marveled at the details of the mansion.

Charlotte and Vagatha both stepped in, Charlotte in awe of the detailing. A shadow figure bent down slightly to offer her a drink, to which she happily took.

“Vaggie this is all so beautiful. I hope I can make a good impression.” Charlotte said, turning to her partner to ease her nerves. Vagatha just smiled, a hand on her shoulder lovingly.

“You’re gonna do great babe, besides, there’s so many people here, if one likes it I’m sure other people will get on board too.” Vagatha said.

“Or they can laugh at you if one person points out how ridiculous it is.” Husk said, chugging his drink before placing it back on the servers tray.

“Thanks for the kind words Husk.” Vagatha said sarcastically. He just shrugged, looking towards the bar area which was practically calling him over.

Upstairs in your room, you stared at yourself in the mirror as your shadows made the finishing touches on your outfit. Draped in a long, elegant black gown that gracefully embraced your commanding figure, the fabric cascaded like shadows. Delicate chain motifs intertwine with the dress, creating an alluring dance of darkness. A chain belt cinches your waist, a subtle nod to your captivating ability to ensnare and command over your shadows. Completing the regalia, silver chain cuffs adorn your wrists, reflecting both power and refinement.

“Madame, the guests are all in the lobby awaiting your arrival.” One of the shadows said. You nodded, stepping down from your showcase, winking to yourself in the mirror before chuckling to yourself. A shadow approaches you, bowing in respect before holding out a tray with your drink, a contrast to your dark colors. You take the glass in your hand, another shadow lightly putting a thermometer in your drink so it’s the perfect temperature for you, fifteen point five degrees Celsius. The liquid is a light yellow-ish green, Lafite-Rothschild, an expensive French wine you tried in 1906 when you were alive. Lifting it to your lips, you take a long sip and sigh, the spicy and earth notes, mixed with a hint of tobacco and red Barrie’s dance on your tongue like a performance of Gavotte. You pull back with a sigh, setting the glass down, a perfect Ridel Vinum Bordeaux, personally crafted for you as the bottom of the glass is a Smokey black, fading into clear glass towards the top.

“Let’s get this Gala started shall we~?”

In the lobby, guests were socializing amongst themselves. Velvet, Vox and Valentino had split for a short while. After the incident outside, the two overlords wouldn’t stop tantalizing the picture box about his fit of frustration dealing with the Radio Demon. From the lobby, there were large crystal doors revealing the back exterior of the house. The greenery was just perfect, with cobblestone flooring revealing another bloody fountain. Vox stood with his drink, speaking to some sinner he couldn’t remember the name of, about how well his business was going.

“You ever get,” Vox asked, eyeing one of the shadows who stood in a corner, white eyes soulless as they held out drinks to guests. “Creeped out by those, things?” Vox asked, turning back to the sinner. He just scoffed.

“Please, they’re always around and as far as I know, harmless.” The sinner said. At that, a shadow appeared between the two, taking their empty glasses and replacing it with new, full ones. Vox tried his hardest not to seem alarmed at this, and took the glass silently, sipping his drink slowly as it floated away. It was then he took in the shadows appearance. They all looked the same. Tall figures, Smokey outlines, but no feel or hands, just a faded end to their limbs. Their eyes were white and soulless, almost as it they were vacant, a shell of what they used to be. There were no facial features, just two white circles and a thin white line for their mouth. Each one however, had a light Smokey chain around their chest, wrapped in the shape of an X.

“What are the chains for then? They’re pretty much smoke, what do they need chains forever?” Vox asked. The associate laughed, but before he could answer, another overlord stepped in.

“They have chains because they’re claimed souls.” Fredrick Von Eldritch says, his sister Bethesda in toe. The two grin, a shadow following behind them with a tray of their drinks. “If you get invited to the gala long enough, you get a personal one.” He said with a wink, gesturing to the shadow behind the two.

“They’re quite cute once you get used to them.” Bethesda said with a smile, cooing at the shadow lightly. Yet, it still remained expressionless.

“Actually, now that you say that.” The sinner says, looking around for a moment. “It’s been awfully quiet with a laugh track being played.” He says, referring to Alastor. Vox just rolls his eyes.

“Who gives a shit about where that old timey freak is?” Vox asks. Fredrick and Bethesda snicker to each other, catching Vox’s attention.

“Probably hunting for his dear Madame.” Bethesda said dramatically, laying her head on her brothers shoulder and batting her lashes playfully. Fredrick and the sinner laughed at his sisters antics, but Vox grew serious.

“What does that mean? He knows her?” Vox asked, to which Fredrick scoffed, finishing his drink before reaching for another off the shadows server tray.

“Of course he does. She died before him, and they’re the closest overlords in time period. Well, aside from Zestial and her.” Fredrick explained. Vox didn’t say anything else, instead looking to the red ‘moon’ of hell, before glancing at the blood fountain. He had heard rumors about being at the Madame’s table, and how she gave the inside to all her projects and plans before the next extermination. Apparently, this year was supposed to be ‘different’ as people had been talking.

“When does this dinner start anyway? We’ve been standing out here for two hours.” Vox said annoyed.

“In a few minutes, Madame will make her grand entrance. She will socialize with the guests as it is polite to have one on one time with them. Then she will spend the rest of the time while the orchestra gets together deciding on contenders to sit at her table.” A shadow walking by said, stopping to stare at Vox. “Madame is always watching.” It then said, turning to serve other guests. Vox said nothing, instead turning on his heel and making his way inside the mansion. How could someone feel suffocated outside? Fredrick and Bethesda said nothing, watching him go, but sharing a glance between each other before making their leave too, leaving the sinner all by his lonesome.

Inside, Charlotte and Vagatha conversed about how she could get people behind her project.

“Maybe if I sing-“

“Please no. These people are too…” Vagatha said, glancing around the room. Everyone seemed too, fake. Vagatha knew Charlotte being herself around these people would do absolutely no good to the hotel, and though she hated telling Charlotte these things, she knew her kindness would be frowned upon, and made fun of. “Serious for that kind of thing.” Vagatha finished, taking a sip of her champagne. She settled for champagne in a flute while Charlotte drank water, wanting to hydrate herself in hopes to calm her nerves.

“I heard that Madame might be making her entrance soon.” Charlotte said nervously, looking around. She half expected her parents to show up, but knew how they rarely liked getting involved in overlord affairs. She’d be surprised if they showed up.

“Then when she does you can try to pitch your idea to her.” Vagatha said supportively. Charlotte just smiled and nodded, hoping someone would listen to her. She had tried practicing on two sinners moments ago, to which they both laughed and called her delusional. The defeat was beginning to get to her, and she hadn’t even started yet.

With Velvet, she began studying the interior of the old-styled mansion. She was trying her hardest to not be too rude about it, but of course she had her comments, but ultimately kept them to herself. Cramoisie, your fashion line, was the top fashion brand in hell, everyone wanted a piece of it. Velvet had never had an article for herself, despite trying her hardest to get something, anything, even a sample. But people feigned for it like drugs. Velvets line was successful sure, but with your validation and guidance, she could become perfection, the same way you were. Everyone in hell looked up to you, shit, you had even gotten Lilith’s praise as she was photographed wearing a custom piece you designed for her. Your work was art in its purist form, and Velvet kept a close eye on her other colleagues to make sure they didn’t fuck your chance up. Velvet had her assistant hold samples and sketches of designs Velvet had been working on, wanting to show you her best work in hopes of winning you over. She could brag about having you support her line, and her fans would die of excitement. Maybe, she could get you to design her a custom piece, or Velvet could design one for you. The possibilities were limitless, if you agreed to meet with her of course. But that was all the more reason why she needed to make sure she had a seat at your table tonight. She needed to get close to you.

“Are you fucking high?” Velvet whispered to Valentino, who just chuckled softly at her.

“What’s the matter hermosa? Just enjoy the Gala, we’re here to have fun right?” He asked with a giggle. Velvet huffed, deciding to find Vox, hoping he could straighten Valentino out. Valentino would not fuck up her chance tonight.

Near the large staircase in the middle of the room, Alastor stood, glass of whiskey in his clawed hands. He smiles, humming to himself while quietly back up into a wall, careful to scan the room quickly before he disappears into the shadows. Then, moments later, appears in a room separate from the gala. It’s a study, your study. Alastor takes a step forward and quickly the shadows in the room seemed to deepen, casting larger, more dramatic silhouettes that seemed to dance on the walls. The interplay of darkness and light only heightened the mysterious allure of the study. In the midst of this chiaroscuro ambiance, Alastor found himself surrounded by an atmosphere that mirrored the complex nature of the figure depicted in the portrait hanging above the fireplace, which was in the far back wall of the study. It was the only light source in the room. Black wooden shelves lined against the tall walls, showcasing famous pieces of literature, all hand picked and to your liking. The fire place, crafted with dark marble, commanded his attention. Above the mantel, a striking portrait of Madame hung, capturing his focus, like a trance. The image portrayed a being universally admired, yet equally feared; someone who elicited both admiration and intimidation all at once, you.

“Hm, hiding now are we?” Alastor asks with a grin, tutting lightly. “That’s not very proper of you Madame~” He says, calling out to you. Seconds later, a dark shadow appears in the corner of the room, taking up the entire corner, before a shadowy figure steps out. Similar to the servant’s out in the lobby, Alastor’s eye twitch’s slightly.

“Oh don’t be so pissy. You know no one gets to see me before my entrance.” You say, the shadow expressionless, but Alastor can hear your tone through the figure, taunting him. He sighs, setting his staff on a slant along his foot.

“And here I thought I could connect with an old friend.” Alastor said with a chuckle, staring down the shadowy figure, hoping his gaze would ease you to show yourself to him. But alas, stuck in your ways, you didn’t show yourself, instead laughing, though the figure did not open its mouth, making your ‘shadow a-presence’ all the more eerie.

“If you really want to speak with me it can wait until my entrance. I should be done soon.” You say, before Alastor just smiles, tossing his staff from hand to hand.

“Well if you’re really going to make me wait, mind you speed the process up a bit? You know it doesn’t take much to make you look breath-taking.” Alastor compliments, but earns a scoff from you.

“Oh please, don’t start with me ‘Radio Demon.’” You mock, before the shadow figure begins to step back.

“Wait, a moment before you go.” Alastor says, standing his staff on the floor. The shadow figure stops, before you speak again.

“Make it quick. You know how much energy it takes to keep this up.” You say.

“So, about this hotel business. I know she’s planning to talk to you about it.”

“Yes the idea you tell me so much about.” You say sarcastically. Alastor had told you bits and pieces about the princess’s project, but didn’t tell you what it was for exactly, leaving you to wonder how important it really was if even he wouldn’t speak on it.

“Well you know how much I crave entertainment. Is it possible to make a request for the seating arraignment tonight?” Alastor asks. You laugh, figure still unmoving.

“Humorous to think you even have a seat. You’ve been gone for what? Seven years?” You say with a scoff.

“You’ve been gone decades my dear, you didn’t even show up to your last twenty gala’s, having your pity shadows do it for you. I doubt you should be speaking on the matter.”

At that, you chuckle to yourself before the shadow begins to back into the corner, black smoke enveloping the corner like a cloud. “I presume you would be correct. Well, I’m off now. Don’t sneak into my quarters again.” You say finally before disappearing. Alastor just grins, stepping into his own shadow, joining the other guests.

The shadows had slowly but, eventually ushered the guests into the lobby, everyone gathering around the staircase as the shadows lined up against the railings, the orchestra playing the music you had specifically requested. You were about to make your grand entrance, something you hadn’t done in centuries. Everyone stood around, awaiting your arrival, the shadows momentarily disappearing to give the guests more space to crowd around. Candles lit along the walls, as well as floating lights appearing going up the staircase. There, the shadows took their place, two on each step on opposite sides, facing each other. The music picked up, the lights focusing at the top of the stairs. Black smoke began to roll down the steps slowly, the anticipation for your arrival growing. The music gets calm for a moment, a larger shadow figure standing at the top of the staircase. It’s larger than any of the other shadows in the room, standing at fifteen feet tall. It speaks in a monotone voice, but loud and commanding.

“Thank you all for your attendance tonight. The Crimson Gala is held once every year to start the new year with all those who survived the extermination. This being said, Madame would like to say her personal congratulations for not being apart of the bloodshed this year. While the past years she has used me to say that she will unfortunately not be in attendance, I am pleased to say that tonight, along with all the new guests, she will make her grand entrance. Presenting to you, the prowess of darkness and queen of shadows, Madame.”

The lights shine bright, and the shadow vanishes quickly. Velvet shushes Vox and Valentino, eyes practically bulging out of her skull to see you. Alastor just stares, waiting in anticipation. Charlie claps her hands quietly to herself while Vaggie just smiles. Rosie sips her glass, eyes waiting to see what outfit you’ve put together this time. At the top of the staircase, a large black smokey circle opens at the bottom of the floor, smoke swirling upwards slowly in a tornado form, smoke getting quicker as it swirls around itself. It gets larger, and guests closer to the stairs have to back up a bit as the wind picks up. Carmilla turns her face to the side, not wanting the wind to mess up her hair too much. Finally, the music picks up again, the peak point in the song, which lasts eight seconds, before the smoke falls to the side in one swoop, leaving you in the midst, now on display for all guests to see. The music continues, the chains against your dress glistening under the light. The music continues the play as you take steps down, looking at the guests. There’s a serious expression on your face, but somehow neutral all the same. Your shadows had added last minute black lace gloves, which went up to your forearm. The bottom of your dress had a lace trimming, as well as the bodice being laced with trim along the bust area. The jewelry was a simple black diamond crystal on a metal chain around your neck, paired with black diamond earrings. The cuff links on your hand remained all the same though. Finally reaching the end of the steps, everyone clapped, now finally being graced with your presence.

Velvet was in awe, staring at you with wide eyes like a child being gifted the most precious thing. Her excitement grew enormously, watching you shake hands and socialize with guests. She had never seen you before, after you had gone ghost for centuries, hardly anyone had photos of you. Hell she didn’t even know what you sounded like.

Charlie was so excited to meet you. She hadn’t seen you in, forever, and was now finally excited to be seen as your equal. Well, that was what she had hoped at least. Having seen a portrait of you in her parents' home when she was younger, she learned of the close relationship between Lilith and you. The anticipation had built over the years, and now, finally, she looked forward to being seen as your equal. Her hope was to hopefully get your support for the hotel, aiming to elevate her standing in the eyes of others. With your backing, she believed people would take both her and the redemption project more seriously, fostering a genuine desire for redemption. Maybe it would even work.

Husk smiled as he watched you socialize with guests. He was glad to finally see you back out again. He never knew why you went into hiding of course, but he never had the balls to ask, so he just stood quiet. When you disappeared, it was after a particularly rough extermination, and he knew something had happened, he just didn’t know what. Since then, the world only had glimpses of you to go on. Some sinners were starting to think you were a myth, since you never showed your face at the Crimson Gala, especially since you were the host.

Vox was taken aback, a sense of confusion and unease settling within him. Your presence had caught him off guard; he had anticipated something different, perhaps an older figure. The unexpected impact left him feeling uneasy, realizing the gravity of your influence. It dawned on him why Velvet had stressed the importance of making a favorable impression. Apart from Zestial and the twins, you stood as one of the strongest and most enduring overlords. In Vox's mind, securing your alliance was imperative for the success of his company. Your potential support would make his endeavors foolproof. Everything had to be flawless – not for any personal reasons, of course, but solely for the sake of his company. He needed you.

Making your rounds to guests, you began to get closer to your colleagues. With a wave to Stolas, and a nod to Zeezie, you run into the Radio Demon himself, Alastor. He grins, sharp teeth getting you. He smiles and nods his head, and you nod back. Alastor takes in your stoic expression, before carefully taking in your outfit.

“My, my, Madame, you’ve truly outdone yourself tonight. Your choice in attire is as captivating as ever – a perfect blend of elegance and sensibility. Quite the spectacle for the grand event, don’t you think?” He asked, holding his arm out to you. You take it, and the two of you walk around the lobby together, conversing.

“Well you don’t look to bad for yourself. Maybe going into hibernation was perfect for you.” You say back, and he grins.

“You’re too kind darling.” He says, dead heart quickening. He puts a hand to his chest, mocking fragility. “Your words leave me breathless my dear.” He says with false dramatics. You roll your eyes and smack his arm playfully.

“Oh please, your ego is quite large enough already, yes?” You ask. He doesn’t say much else, but instead, gently moves you to the side while you look at your shadows, now waltzing around in the middle of the lobby, putting on a performance.

“Did you plan that?” Alastor asks. You shake your head.

“No, but the music is perfect for it, so I let them be. They’re already trapped with me, I might as well make them useful.” You say, and Alastor just hums, a laugh track playing. However, as the two of you walk, his track screeches to a halt upon seeing Vox approach the two of you.

“Madame.” Vox says, nodding his head. His expression is serious, and though you’ve heard of him, you’ve never seen him.

“Ah hello. Vox I presume?” You ask, free hand reaching forward to shake his own outstretched hand. The two of you shake hands, and Alastor can’t ignore the way he fights to keep his smile. Why he could just shove his staff right into that flace faced fuckers scree-

“Alastor, I suppose you’ve met Mr.Vox before, correct?” You ask. Alastor nods with a smile, and you notice the way it stretches almost painfully across his face. It makes you uneasy, but you ignore the feeling. He’d surely tell about what this is about later on in the night you supposed.

“Why yes we have! I’ve made him loose his signal quite a few times.” Alastor says with a laugh, his laugh track playing. Vox doesnt say anything, though he doesnt have too as his eye twitching had given enough away. The two clearly did not like each other. Than again, you had felt the same way about Alastor when you first met him, so the feeling was understandable.

“Madame, a dance?” Vox asked, turning his attention back to you. You thought for a moment, before untangling your arm from Alastors and nodding to Vox, taking his outstretched hand to you and leading you to the dance floor, which now had a couple other sinners dancing as well. Alastor held onto his staff tight, but relaxed as you discreetly slid him a card. In white with black lettering, cursive font. Seat number five. He was invited to your table. Guaranteed a seat. That was enough to have him back in light spirits, now searching out his dear friend Rosie to share the good news.

Velvet had been looking for you all over, her assistant close in toe. She had tried her hardest to get to you when you initially made your enterance, but alas you had been too overcrowded with people for her to get to you. She had heard rumors about how you hated rudeness and disrespect. That meant no interruptions, and no loud speaking, or vulgar language. She was sure to keep herself in check, and that meant her colleagues too. So, naturally, you could imagine her shock upon seeing Vox dancing with you on the dance floor, black dress twirling at your feet. You looked so regal, so elegant, flawless. She wanted to be just like you. She waited patiently on the sidelines, waiting for the dance to end. She could see the two of you having a conversation, but couldn’t pinpoint what about.

“So, I presume you’re one of the, newer overlords?” You asked as the two of you danced. Vox chuckled, leading you slowly.

“New? Well, maybe to you I would be. I heard you haven’t really left your own head for quite some time.” Vox says lowly. You nod, letting him dip you.

“Yes that would be correct. So what are you supposed to be exactly?” You ask, quite unsure of his purpose. Overlords are meant to have a strong leading purpose in hell, so what was his?

“Well, you’re looking at the head of Vox Tech. A software company.” He says, and you hum in understanding.

“So modern technology.” You confirm, and he nods, pearly whites shining brightly back at you.

“You’re looking at the future Madame.” Vox says, spinning you quickly, before bringing you close by your hip.

“Interesting. So, what’s your social influence?” You ask. Vox thinks for a moment, before laughing to himself.

“People have televisions in all their homes. Any piece of modern technology comes strictly from me. With a little mind control, there isn’t any influence I don’t have.” Vox says, noticing a sinner walk by with a smart watch, to which he holds a finger up to you, sending himself through it, and then to another sinner with their smartphone, making his way around the room in seconds before he’s back in front of you, stepping in time for the next number. “See? Nothing I can’t do.” He says with a wink. You nod slowly, looking around the room. Being back out in the spotlight after being gone for so long makes you feel a bit, behind. But with an overlord like this in your circle, maybe this could be a way for you to keep up with the current world, get you back up to pace. The dance finally comes to a close, and the two of you bow to one another, before you summon a card, handing it to Vox. Seat number nine. Vox grinned at you, giving you a nod. You nod back, before looking at another sinner who’s asked to speak with you. With that, you leave Vox at the dance floor, white card in hand. His spot at your table was secured. But, this made his emotions churn even more. What was this feeling he had? He was happy yes, but for the companies sake. But, maybe for once, he could mix just a little business with pleasure.

Charlotte had lost her partner at the bar and had been looking for her for quite some time. However, instead of finding Vagatha, she found you instead. You had seemed to be finishing a conversation with Vox, and though she disliked him, she took her chance the moment she saw you walking away.

“Excuse me, Madame- Miss- Um.” Charlotte said quickly, causing you to stop in your tracks. She got closer to you, now a few inches away. It was then she realized how tall you were compared to her. You were easily around seven feet, or just under that. With your heels that was. You looking down at her made her feel intimidated, small, like the child. But, feeling her nerves rise, she began to ramble again. “I know you probably have a lot to do tonight and I don’t want to take up your time, I just want you to hear me out, if that’s okay with you of course.” Charlotte said quickly, pausing to inhale. You narrowed your eyes at her, snapping your fingers and causing a shadow to appear next to you, singular glass on the tray. It was the same tall shadow from earlier, with the same drink. Again, using testing the temperature of the drink, before nodding to you so you could take it. You lifted the glass to your lips, maintaining eye contact with Charlotte as you drank the wine in one go, putting it down on the tray with a sigh.

“Go on.” You replied, now intrigued. You knew who she was. “You’re the girl with the hotel? Lucifer and Lilith’s child, correct?” You asked. Charlotte smiled, stars appearing in her eyes as she gushed.

“You know who I am?” She asked surprised. You nodded, cracking a small smile for the first time tonight, causing many eyes to stare in shock. You hardly ever smiled. In fact, there were three counts ever of you smiling in hell. Once, when you first got to hell, killing and claiming territory, and smiling once you finally settled down. The second being after World War One, when so many souls came to you seeking ‘help’ yet only being met with contracts. Third, being just before the extermination you disappeared after. You had gone through your belongings from Earth that managed to get brought to you from the surface, and was looking at family photos with one other overlord. Zestial. Now, at the gala, here was Lucifer’s brat, as some would call, making you crack a grin at her giddiness.

“Of course I know who you are. Do you forget I know your mother? You’re practically a niece of mine at this point.” You say, motioning at Charlotte to walk with you. “Now, what is this hotel I’ve heard about?” You ask. She beams at this and follows excitedly.

“OkaysobasicallyIhavethishotelandit’scalledthe’HazbinHotel’whichisforsinnerswhowantobebetterandredeemthemselvestotryand-“ You stopped her, allowing her to take a breath of air after rambling for so long. You lead her outside, finding a nearby bench to sit on. With how quickly she spoke, she needed all the ‘fresh’ air she could get right?

“Why are you speaking so quickly? Also, sinners who want to better themselves? Where would you find those?” You ask with a laugh, the same tall shadow appearing with a glass for you. Again, you sip on your drink as Charlotte collects herself together.

“Usually if I explain slowly people cut me off and I never get to finish, so I’ve gotten used to just saying everything as quickly as possible so they don’t cut me off and actually listen to what I have to say.” Charlotte says, again rather quickly. “Like I was saying; the Hazbin Hotel is a place for sinners who want to better themselves to possibly try to get into heaven through redemption, and I know what you’re thinking, we’ve all died and got sent here, but I believe people can change and that everyone deserves second chances.” Charlotte explained. She saw the look of confusion on your face, and began to speak again. “We already have two residents, who are making strides to be better people every day with group activities and I believe it’s working. If I could just get other people on board, people like you on board who actually believe in my cause, then we can get rid of extermination and maybe save some people here.” Charlotte explained. You thought for a moment, and the fact you hadn’t laughed in her face yet gave her some hope that maybe she had gotten through to you. You stood up, setting your empty glass on the tray before the shadow disappeared.

“Honestly,” You said with a sigh, looking around, your eyes landing on your shadows serving other guests. “The entire project sounds delusional.” You said sharply. Charlotte looked down at this, defeated, before standing as well.

“Well, thank you for hearing me out I guess. You’re the only other person who has aside from Alastor. So, thank you for your time.” Charlotte said, turning to walk back inside the gala, head hanging low with tears brimming her eyes. Maybe it was the connection to her mother, maybe it was because she reminded you of her mother. But, something had to change.

“I didn’t say we were done speaking Charlotte.” You said sharply again. She stopped and tensed up at that, before turning around, wiping a tear that slipped down her cheek.

“W-what?” She asked. You stepped forward to her, putting your hands flat together before smoke encased them. Then seconds later it was gone, and in your hands was a white card. You handed it to her with a nod.

“It sounds delusional. But, maybe someone will like that about you.” You said. She read the card, face dropping once she realized what it meant.

“So, so I can sit with you tonight? I can pitch my idea?” She asked excitedly. You nodded, patting her shoulder.

“Yes you may. I’ll allow you to have your time. You get thirty minutes, there will be overlords and royalty there, I’m sure someone is bound to take an interest in it.” You say. Charlotte squeals excitedly before jumping up and down, clapping her hands.

“Oh my goodness! Thank you so so so much!! You won’t regret this I swear!” Charlotte said, and you just nodded.

“Of course I won’t. I don’t make mistakes.” You say, before walking past her. “Oh, and thank Alastor for that. He was insistent you be present at my table tonight.” You say to her. She’s left standing outside in shock, watching as you walk back into the lobby to socialize with other guests.

It seemed Velvet had finally caught you, rushing her assistant to follow you as she made her way over to you.

“Madame, you look absolutely breathtaking tonight! Your presence here is like a beacon of individuality and charisma,” she exclaims, eyes sparkling. You look her up and down for a moment, stopping in your tracks to listen to her. Something feels, odd about this one. “I’ve been ardently following your unique style for ages, and it’s truly an honor to be in your presence. The way you effortlessly blend boldness with subtlety, it’s unparalleled, truly outstanding. Now, I’ve ventured into a daring new fashion brand, and I can’t help but envision you as the unrivaled star in my collection. Picture it: the illustrious Madame, gracing the world with a revolutionary expression of style. This would be the perfect way to make your way back into the public eye, and of course you would look ravishing doing so.” Velvet said, her assistant handing you sketches of Velvets designs, and photographs of some of her work on her models. “So, what do you say Madame? Will you be the luminary of a new era in Hell’s fashion?” Velvet says. You grow quiet for a moment. Aside from Rosie, you’ve had no other overlord come into the fashion realm, and Rosie is only partially in it as a side hustle, but everyone knows it’s your thing. The designs are things you would never wear, bold and odd colors together, like a child’s clothing line.

“Is this for children?” You ask. Velvet nearly chokes and her assistant tenses up.

“No Madame. It’s modern fashion.” Velvet says cautiously. She knows what she’s doing. Correcting you. No one ever does that. You don’t need to be corrected because you know what you’re looking at. A sad fashion designer who wants you to slap your name on her sloppy work so if it goes up in flames it’s your reputation taking the fall, not her’s.

“So all your models look like they came from a whore house? Correct?” You ask. Velvet’s jaw drops and her assistant hides a laugh. Velvet, inhaling softly, tries her hardest not to cry on the spot. You’re her idol. She can’t fuck this up.

“No Madame! Not at all!” She says, showing you a design she had made personally for you. Based on your other collections, she knows your favorite color is black, so that’s a plus. All she had to do was add a bit more, of her flair to it. It was a black jumpsuit, with a fur coat that dropped down to the knees, black with white fur around the edges of the coat and the cuffs. The sketch wasn’t half bad, and quite frankly better than the others. Maybe it was the forgiving mood Charlotte had put you in. Velvet hands you the design and you skim over it, taking in the details, the hair and eye makeup, the shoes and jewelry notes written on the side. The sketches aren’t bad, but modern fashion isn’t your fashion.

“I’ll consider it. Do you mind if I keep these?” You ask. Velvet shakes her head, handing you the folder from her assistants hands.

“Please, take whatever you’d like Madame!” Velvet says. You nod, flipping through the pages.

“You’ll hear from me soon. In the meantime, I want new sketches of these designs. Modern fashion is fast fashion. Nothing stays memorable that way. You want to be good?” You ask her, and she nods quickly. “Then be better. Modesty and elegance are what people strive for. It radiates power, and everyone is greedy for that. If you can sell that through an item, you won’t ever go out of style.” You say, handing her back the folder, keeping the sketch she’d done for you. Well, at least you liked something. Vevelt nodded her head and watched you walk away, letting out a sigh of relief.

“Um, miss?” Her assistant asked.

“What?” Velvet asked annoyingly.

“She left a card on the folder.”

At that , Velvets eyes snapped down at the folder, before she screamed in excitement. Seat number six. She was invited to your table. Mission accomplished. Now, with only six seats left to fill, you were off to talk to your other guests. The night had proved to be interesting, and you knew your encore would not disappoint.

[renranram]

Maid dress

nsfw!!

schlatt jerking off to reader while she's streaming, obvi inspired when j bought wenston some maid outfits and people were calling him his sugar daddy lols

a/n ; 886 words :)

reader flaunts herself at the camera, spinning whilst she tries on the maid outfit schlatt had bought her, " chat, do i look pretty? " she smiles as she assembles the outfit

meanwhile schlatt was on the call with her, eyes immensely focused on her live stream, " jesus fuck, you look worse " he mutters as reader glares at him through the camera

" well, you bought this for me, so maybe it's not me who's the problem " she rolls her eyes at him as schlatt chuckles, not taking his eyes off his screen once

the two had been close friends for over a year now, meeting through, shamefully, the dsmp, the duo are very different ccs on their own, reader being more into makeup and gaming whilst schlatt's varies

ever since they first met on the server the two just sparked a connection, coming off as frenemies for the public, a banter of theirs but exactly off camera, it was a whole different story

schlatt is reader's sugar daddy

at first reader would just joke about being broke, " oh my fucking godd it's so pretty but i dont wanna waste my money ", " that's so fucking expensive ", " okay im broke " until schlatt got tired and actually offered her to be her sugar daddy

at first reader thought it was a joke, a silly new banter for them but nope!, every week, new parcels would arrive on the streamer's doorstep with small notes, but chat doesn't know that, chat doesn't need to know that

" fine, ill get you a new one done " he mumbles, as he scrolls through amazon, " anime french maid apron lolita fancy dress cosplay costume furry cat ear gloves socks set " he reads out the title causing reader to chuckle as they wear the stockings for the uniform

" oh it comes in pink " he added as reader smiles, " i like pink " she replies as schlatt scoffs, " of course you do "

as the girl sits down on her bed to wear the stockings, schlatt's eyes linger down on her bare thighs, enjoying the view as he leans back on his chair

" do you need something else too? " he mutters as reader gasps, " oh my gosh! you should buy me that uhm... blaire doll thing " she smiles as schlatt shakes his head, " blaire doll thing? " he repeats her, " the fuck is that? "

reader tries to wear the collar to complete the look, " it's like a doll! " she states as she grabs her phone to show off the picture

" that's an ugly looking doll " he mutters, as he gulps, looking down at his now hard on, unironically finding reader in a whole cat maid dress... hot

" more uglier than you are " she retorts as he chuckles, " guess no more doll for you then " schlatt replies, shrugging as reader gasps, now pouting

" im kiddingggg pleaseee buy me one? " she pleads looking at the camera as her live chat speeds up, " .. fuck.. " he groans out, not loud enough for his mic to pick up, him slowly sliding in his hand inside his shorts

" please please please " she continues, as she reads off the chat, " please jschlatt senpai " she bursts out laughing, mentally cringing as schlatt chuckles, " ..fine "

" yay! chat! we fucking wonnn! " she celebrates as she jumps around the frame, clasping her hands together, " we're the best at this shit " she shrugs, smug, unaware that the man she's in a call with is already jerking off to her

" reader.., think im gonna mute for a sec, gotta do something " he mumbles as reader nods, understanding, " bet, im gonna talk with chat for a bit " she smiles, as schlatt immediately mutes himself

" fuck.. what a fucking whore.. i didn't actually think she'd do a stream " schlatt chuckles, amused as he palms himself, as reader did what she said, interacting with her audience

" what a pretty slut holy shit " he chuckles, clearly amused as he bites his lip, his rough hand playing with his dick

" chat i look so pretty right? " reader asks, fixing her hair as chat spams yes, " you damn sure are " he mumbles, as he grabs the base of his cock, using his saliva for lube

" ah fuck, fucking.. so fucking pretty " he breathes out, his body shuddering slightly as he jerks himself off, his eyes never leaving her

" fuck.. fuck.. " schlatt throws his head back as he leans back on his chair, fastening his pace, " stupid fucking whore.. "

he moans out, lifting his shirt up, as he continues to palm himself at the sight of her, he's never gonna buy her those stupid costumes again

or maybe he'll rain her with more gifts, then maybe a flight to texas so she can show everything off to him... maybe

his lashes flutter, fastening his already fast pace as he continues to moan, " stupid fucking slut, .. shit... pretty- pretty whore " he stammers

he can feel his precum leaking as reader talks with her chat, innocent yet suggestive, that stupid maid dress, if schlatt can immediately fly to london, he fucking would, he'd immediately bend her over, not caring if she was streaming or not and fuck her like some animal

" ah fuck! " he moans loudly, his semen, spurting on his keyboard making a fucking mess, " shit... " he groans out

maybe instead of ordering her a new costume, maybe he'll fly her out instead

[woso-dreamzzz]

Skatt's Halloween

Mapi León x Ingrid Engen x Child!Reader

Summary: The first of my Halloween-centric fics

Mapi sighs as she assembles you and your sisters in front of the big wall by the hallway for a picture.

Your oldest sister, little Cub, is whining at Ingrid.

"I want to be a lion! You said I could be a lion!"

"And you will be a lion," Ingrid assures her," But for proper Halloween. For club Halloween, we agreed that you'd be a beetle, remember?"

For the four years you can remember being alive (though you can only really remember three of those years), you know that Halloween is difficult.

There's two Halloweens but also kind of not really.

Mapi says your family does two Halloweens. Proper Halloween that everyone celebrates and club Halloween that only your family does at the last training day before Proper Halloween.

You think it's kind of cool that you get to get dressed up twice.

But, club Halloween means matching costumes. Or, at least a matching theme.

The chooser of the theme is picked out of a hat to avoid arguing after last year's debacle when Cub and Bebita got into a big fight and Sunshine's new camera was caught in the carnage.

But it's okay now because you were chosen and you want the family theme to be insects.

Teeny is dressed as a stick insect. Your twin, Bebita, is a mosquito. Sunshine is a ladybug and you're a bumblebee. For actual Halloween though, you're going to be a cockroach.

Cub's meant to be a beetle but she keeps trying to take off her costume no matter how Ingrid tries to placate her.

"Cub, please," She says," It's only for a few hours!"

"No! No! Lion! Lion, rawr!"

Mapi sighs again as Teeny drifts off to the side to grab at a toy, completely ruining the shot.

"Bebita!" She says suddenly," Stop trying to bite your sisters!"

Bebita, who was halfway to putting Sunshine's arm in her mouth, huffs. "I'm a mosquito! They bite!"

"Yes but you don't need to bite your sister....Teeny! Stop trying to open up the markers!"

"No!" Cub continues," I want-I want to be a lion because I'm Cub and cubs are lions!"

You don't know why Cub's kicking up such a fuss. It's a good beetle costume. It's not itchy or scratchy so you don't get why she's complaining.

"Sunshine, please don't try and pack that camera," Mapi says on the very edges of your senses," That's the expensive one and we've had three broken cameras this week alone."

You giggle a little as you run your hands down your fluffy bumblebee costume, wiggling a little to look at your stinger. You really like your outfit, even the little wings that you can't quite see but know are there.

Ingrid had assured you earlier that you looked like the best little bumblebee in the world so you hope on Proper Halloween you can look like the best cockroach in the world too.

"Lion!" Cub insists and you look over at her, feeling all weird in your tummy.

Cub cries a lot more than you and Bebita. Sunshine doesn't cry much either but she can be a little emotional. Teeny's the youngest so she cries a lot too.

"Cub, baby, please-"

"There's a lion beetle."

Cub stops, turning to look at you. "What?"

"There's a beetle called a lion beetle," You reply," It's a type of longhorn beetle."

Cub falls silent for a moment, thinking as she holds her løve. "Okay," She says eventually," I'll be the lion beetle for club Halloween and a proper lion for Proper Halloween."

Ingrid breaths out a sigh of relief. "Thank you, Cub. Now, are we ready for pictures?"

"Okay."

Cub goes hurrying off to the wall and you take Ingrid's offered hand as she leads you over.

"Thank you, Skatt," She says, a soft kiss dropped onto your head," Are we all ready for pictures now?"

"All good," Mapi says as she corrals the rest of your sisters to the wall," Ingrid, I think we've got the prettiest set of insects anyone's ever seen."

Ingrid smiles indulgently, clicking her fingers above her camera to capture everyone's attention. "I think so too."

"A stick insect, a mosquito, a ladybug, a beetle-"

"Lion beetle!" Cub cuts in.

"A lion beetle and a bumblebee," Mapi finishes," Alright, girls. Look at Mumma's camera. Smile."

Ingrid takes lots of photos before getting everyone in the car.

"Did I do good?" You ask when Ingrid takes your hand," With choosing the costumes?"

"A perfect job," Ingrid assures you," I love seeing all my girls as little insects."

"Good," You say, giggling as kisses flutter all over your face and neck," Sorry Cub started arguing."

"It's okay, Skatt," Ingrid says," It's not your fault. You're a very cute bumblebee."

"That's what Mami said!"

"Well, sometimes Mami's right about a few things."

"Hey!" Mapi hangs her head out of the window. "I'm right about a lot of things."

"You called my costume a honey bee! I'm a bumblebee!"

Mapi laughs, waving her hand. "Same thing."

"It's not!"

"She's teasing you," Ingrid says," She knows you're a bumblebee for Halloween."

"Really?"

Ingrid grins. "The prettiest bumblebee in the world!"

[someprettyname]

BLLK BOYS MEETING YOUR PARENTS FOR THE FIRST TIME (HCs ver.)

characters included : Isagi Yoichi, Bachira Meguru, Shidou Ryusei, Barou Shoei, Chigiri Ryusei, Reo Mikage, Yukimiya Kenyu

a/n : has this been done already? I've been wanting to do for quite some time and now that I finally got over my laziness :] here's my vision for it y'all, I hope you enjoy :]

total word count : 1.5k (😱)

Lets start with the ultimate green flag best boy totally not because I'm whipped :D

1) He's a well cultured man who grew up in a healthy family, so that says a lot. 

2) have you seen how he used to put together chigiri's carekit, assemble the laundry, and wake nagi up? 

3) yeah. 

4) he's good at formalities and keeping a harmony in his environments. Thank his Fe aux and the fact that he's INFJ, but he KNOWS (by default) how to behave in a social setting really well. That just comes naturally to him. 

5) so of course he'd dress well, wear a kind smile and bring along gifts. 

6) your parents - no matter how "conservative" and against the idea of you having a boyfriend/love marriage they are - would be DELIGHTED. He's a good player, stable in career, good looking, rich, well behaved. Damn. You really bagged the perfect guy. They can't say anything even if they WANT to. 

7) and it's not like they can deny the way he looks at you. 

8) Any normal parent would approve of him SO QUICK. SO QUICK, MATE. SO QUICK. 

1) Sweet sweet fluff ball he is. 

2) he's goofy most of the times, but of course you matter to him so much. So he would tame himself. 

3) and everything goes smoothly from there 😙

4) no questionable outfit, well behaved and polite. He took tips from Isagi afterall :3 (and isagi has a PRETTY GOOD social awareness) 

5) extra plus points if you have younger siblings or cousins OR a pet. No explanation needed there. He'd get along with them really well :] 

6) would offer to help your mom in the kitchen (i mean, he had a single mom afterall, man knows nothing but respect for mother) and insist on it - that's where he won your mom over by the way :) <3 

7) now there can be two cases - either you have a black cat energy or are an introvert, in which case your parents would be relieved you finally found someone who can bring you out of your shell 

8) or you're an extrovert or have golden retriever energy - in which case your parents might internally sigh thinking of all the chaos you both might stir up (even if you both are pretty tamed in front of them) but they can't help adore you both >.<

1) .....

2) yeah

3) good luck. 

(on a serious note though, if you're dating him you're more likely to be a sweet, introverted girl. So your parents would be happy that you found someone who can bring you out of your shell pt 2. Though his wilder, more violent side can be.... concerning, hopefully, he tames himself up for you atleast a little bit. That'd probably be easy given how much of a calming effect you have on him :3) 

1) See. you need to understand my vision here. Barou off field is a guy you'd 100% want to date okay? 

2) he's the brother of 2 younger sister, hopefully (unlike my elder brother 🥰) he KNOWS how to treat women. Okay? 

3) I mean, did you see how he treated her mother when she was pregnant on the light novel? Chef kiss. He's definitely a green flag guy okay? 

4) if you've hung out with enough guys (which I'm pretty sure you have) you'd know how nasty a boy to boy only conversation can get. How they so disgustingly objectify women. Yeah. Uh huh. Barou's the kind of guy who'd NOT hesitate to step in and stop that bullshit whenever discussions with his male friends go in that direction. You get my vision now? 

5) he's definitely a family man who RESPECTS his family. He's a guy who you'd want to take back to your mama's (or dada's but that'd spoil my lyrics reference) house ygwim ;) 

6) if you have a traditional family, congrats. You bagged yourself THE perfect man your parents could've imagined. They are proud of you 😂❤️

7) look. I see the dad to boyfriend rapid fire round as something REALLY important (considering your dad isn't a red flag and is not trying to sabotage your happiness 🙏🏻) because ONLY MEN know how nasty other men can get and what they need to protect their daughters from. And Barou? Honey he is PASSING THAT RAPID FIRE ROUND WITH FLYING COLOURS!!!!

8) a supposedly good looking rich guy (who bought them *cough* some real expensive *cough* gift when he came over dinner) who knows what he's doing? Pass. 

9) I'm sure your parents would notice how his eyes soften in the slightest everytime he looks at you and that'd be enough to tell them how he's whipped for you (no matter how firm he's on the outside) and you've found yourself the right guy ;) 

10) (plus the sight of him walking out of his black and red sports with the bouquet of flowers was a SIGHT. TO. BEHOLD. Barou is a classy man afterall.) 

11) yay! WOOP WOOP 🎉

1) He has a older sister, that should be your first cue ;) 

2) he's handsome okay? LIKE ONE OF THE PRETTIEST, MOST HANDSOME GUY YOUR PARENTS WOULD EVER MEET. 

3) He'd enter the room and it'd be LIT UP by his beauty. He's AMAZING. Your parents would be BLOWN away. They just can't help it. (So blown away that they accidentally forget the part where they had to question his hair length xD) 

4) of course they have seen him on TV and googled him but seeing him in real life was a while different thing. Can you imagine the scene? You see my vision? 

5) imagine him walking in in a white button up, his hair neatly done and muscles straining through his shirt as he holds the rose bouquet in his hands gracefully. Plus he smells good. 

6) yeah. 

7) (even you'd be blown away, what's your parents anyways 😔) AND THEN THEY REALISE THAT HE IS A GREEN FLAG AND RICH TOO? 

8) woman. 🤨 Don't embarass them. Why aren't you both married already? 🤨

9) If it's over at yours (as opposed to a formal setting like a restaurant) that the dinner is planned, he's definitely offering help to your mom :D 

10) and of course your father would know he's a gentleman too, so he's another guy who'd get approved real quick 😌↕️

11) (he bought your mom jewellery, haircare & skincare stuff over others afterall, how can she NOT?! She's CHARMED by her son-in-law. Not to be son-in-law. In her mind you're both married already 🥰) 

12) be ready to bear with your parents getting insufferable about deciding marriage dates and who all to call in your wedding after he has left :3

1) 😂

2) 😂😂😂

3) Woman. If you are a Reo girlie, why are you even reading this? 😂

4) i mean, no offence but it's actually surprising you have doubts about him impressing your parents 😂

5) he's THE Mikage heir. The dream son-in-law of everyone in the nation 😂 

6) until and unless you are the daughter/heiress of an equally famous and rich company, your parents would be questioning how YOU bagged HIM. That says a lot 😂

7) He's a man of culture. He KNOWS how to impress people. How knows how to tilt everything in his favour AND he's charming. You see how much of a deadly combo that is when it comes to convincing your parents? 

8) even if your parents are HELLBENT on not approving him, he'd know how to convince, do you worry even a bit sweetheart. 

9) he's not here to get approved, he's here to finalise the marriage dates /j 

10) And even though he KNOWS he doesn't really need to do much to convince your parents given his place in social hierarchy and all that money, looks, power - he's humble. He RESPECTS and TREASURERS you. He'd do everything to make sure he's WINNING the heart of your parents by the end of the night ^_^ 

that there is no scope of doubt. He gotta get what he wants afterall. 

11) Dressing up well, looking and smelling good, the many gifts, behaving politely, offering help, striking up an interesting conversation and keeping up with anything thrown at him, flattering your parents - he's got it all up his sleeve. 

12) all you gotta do is sit back and watch your parents get ENCHANTED under his charming spells :3

1) Another green flag when it comes to dating. He's a Fe user too isn't he? 

2) one of my moots posted about her mother giving him the highest rating among the other blue lock guys so...yeah. That says a lot doesn't it? 

3) he'd pass the vibe check of your mom SO QUICK as if it's a light breeze :3 

4) your mom would have her eyes 👀 on him. He's a son-in-law material afterall + he definitely 100% offered to help her in the kitchen :3

5) a good looking, well behaved rich guy who respects you? Chef kiss. 

6) pass pass passsssss

7) he'd answer all the questions your dad poses at him SO WELL (and so smartly and confidently) so he's impressing your dad before the dinner ends as well 😌↕️

8) as long as your dad isn't a red flag (which many dads are unfortunately) he'd SPECIALLY love him 👍🏻 just a feeling :3

That's it for today ladies and gentlemen. Adios. 🙇🏻‍♀️

[ divider credits to @plusmio hehe you have the BEST dividers fr ]

[justcauseiwanna2]

Dinner Time NatxFem!Y/n

18+ MINORS DNI

Warnings: Smut, marking, thigh slapping, spanking, punishment, light degrading, praise, oral sex (R receiving), fingering (R receiving), Mommy Natasha, Sub R, begging, I think that’s it but if you find anymore let me know!!

A/n- My first time writing in forever enjoy ❤️

Y/n’s POV

I move around the kitchen with grace as I add in the proper ingredients to make dinner for the night. I measure out the spices and add them to the bowl knowing the recipe by memory. Tonight I decided to make my homemade bacon mac’n’cheese knowing how much Yelena enjoys the dish. Natasha’s family is visiting for the week so I want to make sure they are as comfortable as possible during their stay. At the moment they are out exploring our city since it is the first time they have been here.

As I’m assembling the dish to put in the oven Natasha walks in with her headphones in her ears and her workout outfit hugging her body nicely. She opens the fridge to grab her water and when she turns around a smile immediately shows on her face. She comes over for a kiss but I stop her before she can reach me. I point over to the fridge door and she sees what I want her to do. It’s a common occurrence for her to leave the fridge open after getting distracted, she closes the fridge before coming back over and pecks me on my lips. “Hi baby, how was the gym?” I ask her with a smile. “What?” She asks rather loudly and I shake my head and pull out her headphones before asking again. “It was good but I missed you.”

She pulls me closer and kisses me again before putting her face in my neck. I gently scratch her head and she hums into my neck. “I missed you too love, after dinner I’m heading to the gym but after that we can watch some movies before bed okay?” She shakes her head and holds me tighter. “No you stay here with me!” I chuckle and shake my head back at her. “I’ll only be going to the gym and after that I’m all yours, but I do have to finish dinner.” I gently pull back from her hold and walk over to finish coating the top of the dish in cheese.

She follows me over and wraps her arms around me to hug me from behind. I don’t even need to see her to know she’s pouting. Once the oven goes off I place the food inside and set the timer to 45 minutes. As I’m cleaning up Natasha walks over to me with an idea. “How about you stay home from the gym, I will give you a workout.” She has this certain smirk that instantly tells me what type of workout she has in mind. “Nat, you know that your parents could be here at any point!” She shrugs and walks closer to me. “They can learn to knock.”

She wraps her arms around my waist and pulls me into her. She gently kisses my neck, I can feel the ability to think slowly leaving me as she moves her hands down to squeeze my ass. I gasp and try to focus on my thoughts. “Natty, I just put dinner in the oven.” She smirks against my neck and looks up at me. “Then I guess we better be quick.” She picks me up and places me on the table. “Nat I-“ She stops me with a kiss as she shakes her head. “That’s not my name now, is it love?” I quickly shake my head not wanting to misbehave but she gives me the look and I remember I need to use words. “No it isn’t mommy.” I stutter out as she starts leaving kisses up and down my neck once more.

She starts to suck on my neck leaving dark marks in her path. Even if we are able to finish in time her family will definitely be able to tell what we have been up to. She goes further and further up my neck and moves a hand over my clothed cunt and adds the tiniest bit of pressure. Not enough to please me but enough to make me more desperate. I start to buck my hips against her hand to try and get some sort of relief for my growing problem. She suddenly pulls back from me and looks at me with a disapproving look. “What do you think you’re doing?” I look down and stay silent, she lifts up my chin until I’m looking her in the eyes. I can feel the heat on my cheeks as she looks me up and down. “N-nothing.” All of the sudden I feel a light sting on my thigh. “Try again.” I feel myself getting more and more desperate for her touch, even just a kiss. “P-please mommy I need you please!” I beg her with a pout hoping that she’ll touch me.

“Poor baby so desperate for mommy that you can’t even answer a simple question.” I nod my head at her as I try to buck my hips into hers. I just need her to touch in some way, I want to feel her against me. “Patient baby I want to enjoy this, why don’t you take off those clothes of yours?” I nod and move to take off my shirt but she stops me. “Words pretty girl.” “Yes mommy.” She steps away, without removing her eyes from my body, to let me undress. I remove my shirt and bra and throw them to the floor and look up to see Natasha studying my chest that already adorns her marks from two days ago. I get down from the table to remove my shorts and my underwear. I feel her studying my body carefully, looking at every detail even though she’s seen it all before.

I climb back onto the table and sit with my legs closed in fear of getting the table messy. She walks up to me with the same smirk on her face and tilts her head when she sees my thighs clenching together. I shyly look down and slowly spread my legs for her to see. She closely examines me and smirks when she sees how wet I am. “Poor baby, is all this for me?” I nod quickly as I look her in the eye. “All for mommy.” She whispers a quick ‘good girl’ and she situates herself between my legs. “Tell me what you want love.” It wasn’t a request but a demand, I know well enough by now to tell her exactly what I want. But before I could say anything she slowly slides her fingers through my folds causing me to lose my train of thought. “Didn’t mommy just ask you a question?” I go to speak again but she decides to enter two of her fingers into me. I let out a moan as I grab her hand in shock. “Go on baby, use your words.”

She sets a steady rhythm with her fingers as I try to gather my words. “I-i want mommy to use her fingers.” I manage to stutter out. I can feel all my thoughts fading as my head is filled entirely with thoughts of my girlfriend and how good she can make me feel. “That’s my good girl.” The constant praise adds to the building pleasure. She moves her thumb to play with my clit as she quickens her pace bringing me closer and closer to the edge.

“Mommy I’m gonna cum!” She immediately stills her hand. “That’s not how you ask.” I whine at her and try bucking my hips to get her to keep going but she slaps my thigh. I let out a small moan but I keep trying to get any friction I can. She once more slaps my thigh. “One last chance.” She warns me but I am too focused on trying to reach my denied orgasm. She removes her fingers and stands up to pull out a chair. I straighten up and look at her in a dazed confusion. “M-mommy?” She sits on the chair and pats her lap. “Over my knee.” I know it isn’t a question so I unsteadily hop off the table and move closer to her. She helps me lay across her lap as she gently rubs my back.

“You know your safe word?” I nod my head. “It’s red.” She praises me yet again which causes me to smile. “Do you know why you are being punished?” I nod but she gives me a light tap on my thigh reminding me to use my words. “B-because I didn’t answer mommy.” She nods and lifts my hand to kiss the back of it. I always love how she reminds me of her love, even through punishment. “Good girl, now I want you to count each spank for me love.” Before I can even respond she releases a sharp smack onto my ass. “One.” She does another which I can tell will end up leaving a mark. “Two.” Each spank uses the same amount of strength. Mommy knows by now that I love having her handprint on my ass. At the tenth smack I accidentally let out a moan which causes Natasha to pause and smirk.

“Aww does my little slut enjoy having her ass spanked by mommy?” I get all shy again but am able to pull together an answer. “Y-yes mommy.” She rubs her hand over the stinging skin before giving it another spank which I count. “Good.” She continues with the last four before letting me up and kissing my lips. She pulls me down to straddle her lap. I gently tug on her shirt trying to pull it off of her body but she stops me. “Use your words.” I let out a whine and stick my face into her neck. “Poor baby so lost for words already and we are only just starting.” I whine again trying to dig myself further into her neck. “Please?” She rubs my bare back with a smile before she nods. I pull away from her and remove her shirt with a smile only for it to switch into a pout when I see she has a bra on. I remove that too and finally have access to her bare chest. I don’t waste any time and start kiss her chest, trying to leave as many marks in my path as possible.

She chuckles a little at how eager I am but it doesn’t stop me. She gently pulls me back from her chest and she puts me back onto the table. My pout doesn’t last long as I see her stripping out of her pants and underwear to reveal her naked body to me. Even after 3 years she amazes me with her beauty. She walks back over to me and slots herself between my thighs. “Mommy is very hungry baby, will you let me have a snack before dinner is done?” She has this voice that she uses whenever we are intimate that makes me melt every time. I eagerly nod my head at her, she wastes no time in lowering to her knees in front of me.

She wraps her arms around my thighs and slowly moves her tongue through my folds. It’s like she can’t get enough as she dives right into my dripping cunt. I moan and brace myself with my arms so that I don’t fall back on the table. Her tongue plunges into me as she eats me out like I’m the best meal she’s ever had. Which she does say constantly. She brings me closer and closer until she once again stops. I let out a whine and try to push her head back to where I need her most but she stands up. “You didn’t think I would let you cum that easy now did you?” I whine and try to move her hand but still she doesn't budge.”Please mommy please I need you!” I beg her to touch me.

She smirks at me and lets her hand drift down further and further until her fingers are circling my clit. I bite my lip to stop myself from making noise but she reaches up and pulls my lip from my teeth. “I want to hear you dear.” “Yes mommy.” This time I don’t even try to hold back my moans when she plunges two fingers inside of me. I look over to the timer and see that the dish only has 14 minutes left. I whine and put my face in the crook of her neck. She curls her fingers and hits my spot just right. I bite down on her neck in response and she smacks my thigh. She sets a slow steady rhythm for me and makes sure that it’s enough pleasure to satisfy me but not enough to get me to the edge. “Please mommy, I need more.” I move my hips to meet the thrusts of her hand but she stills my hips. “Is that a statement or a question love?”

“A-a question mommy.” She smirks at me and inserts a third finger. “Such a pretty pussy, and it’s all for mommy.” She looks down and admires the view of her fingers disappearing in and out of my cunt. She speeds up her fingers and moves her thumb over my clit. She keeps going, bringing me closer and closer. “Please mommy I’m gonna cum please don’t stop!” She raises her eyebrow at me which makes me stutter and fix my words. “Please mommy please can I cum, please please please!” I beg her over and over, a tear or two start to fall down my face in pleasure. “Cum for mommy baby.”

She adds a third finger as she moves her fingers into me as fast as she can. I let out a scream and cum all over her fingers. I collapse forward onto her, my breathe heavy as she helps me ride out my high. She keeps moving her fingers but I still her hand with mine and shake my head. “All done love?” I nod against her chest. She lets out a hum and wipes off her fingers with a towel before wrapping her arms around me. She holds me tight and I slowly calm down. “T-thank you mommy, felt so good.” She smiles and scratched my back gently. “Of course love! Though as much as I enjoy the cuddles my family will be home soon so we need to get you cleaned up. First though I need to get the food out of the oven.” I nod and hop down from the table and give her a kiss. She reassures me that we can have a bath tonight and extra cuddle which I am super excited for.

After cleaning myself up in the bathroom I put on some clean clothes and walk out to see Natasha dishing out food to her family. Melina is sitting next to Alexei and Yelena is at the end because she says ‘since she is the guest she should have the special seat’. That’s fine with me though because I get to sit next to Tasha which I love. “Hi baby!” I smile and walk over and give her a big hug. I give her a kiss before grabbing everyone's plates and then handing them out. We sit down with our plates and start a conversation. Eventually the conversation drifts and Alexei asks “What’s with those bruises on your neck?” My eyes widen, Natasha smirks while Melina sighs and Yelena drops her head onto the table in defeat.

“I um they-” I am interrupted by Yelena. “They are hickeys you dipshit!” Melina starts criticizing her for cursing at her father while Natasha starts laughing. “IS THIS WHAT YOU DO WHEN WE LEAVE EW!” Alexei sounds absolutely disgusted which causes me to blush and Natasha just laughs even harder. “Natasha, you need to stop corrupting the poor angel.” Melina states as a fact and now I’m the one laughing. “Yeah Natasha.” I agree with her and Natasha glares at me. God I love this family.

[starkwlkr]

“he’s here!” | logan howlett

an: this is inspired by the scene in x-men 97 where jean tells logan “he’s here!” because she’s in labor and logan’s all like “who? apocalypse?” and whips out his claws expecting to fight and jean just yells at him “the baby!” omg my favorite scene lol

mutant!reader (telekinesis baby!!!!)

It was a quiet normal day in the mansion. Rogue was helping you set up the finishing touches to the baby’s nursery. With a wave of your hand, you assembled the last shelf where Rogue placed a the ultrasound pictures.

“So you still don’t have a name for the baby?” Rogue asked. Every day it was the same question, all she wanted was to know the name. It was a secret for everyone.

“We do, Rogue, we just agreed to reveal it after the birth. You’ll find out soon, everyone will.” You said, walking towards the door of the nursery. You took one last look at the room and sighed. In a few days, your son would be sleeping in that same room.

“Oh! I forgot to show you something! Bobby and I went to the mall the other day and I found the cutest outfit for the baby. I’ll go get it.” Rogue said excitedly. She rushed out the nursery towards her room.

“I’ll be in the kitchen!” You called out. Being pregnant was exhausting. At the moment, you were craving fruit so you walked slowly to the kitchen. Everything was hurting lately, but you didn’t think much of it. You still had a week left until your baby boy was born.

When you finally made it to the kitchen, you found Logan drinking a beer that he had snuck in. “I thought I told you to stay in bed.” Logan stood up from his chair and walked over to you. He placed a kiss on your forehead.

“I’m sick of staying in bed all day. I needed to move. Rogue was helping me finish up the nursery,” As soon as you said nursery, he was about to start scolding you. “I barely lifted a finger! She was moving everything, I just told her what to do.” You half lied.

“Sure, if that helps you sleep at night, baby.” Logan chucked.

You playfully hit his arm then walked to the refrigerator in search of a container of fruit that Logan had cut up for you. You found it with a note attached that said ‘baby howlett’s mom’. You smiled at the note. As you pulled it out of the refrigerator, you felt a sharp pain. It caused you to let go of the container, the contents of it spilling everywhere on the kitchen floor.

Logan rushed over to you quickly. “What’s wrong? Where is it hurting?”

“Logan . . .” You groaned. “He’s here!”

Immediately Logan’s claws came out. “Who? Magneto?” He looked around the kitchen frantically in search of the possible threat. “Stryker? Show yourself, you son of a bitch!” He yelled.

You couldn’t believe it. Did he suddenly forget you were pregnant? Maybe it was the beer finally getting to him. . .

You groaned once more as the pain struck again. “The baby!” You screamed. You waved your hand, his jacket and keys were thrown at him.

Logan’s eyes widened when he heard those words. He was about to become a father. “Oh crap.”

“Take me to the hospital, you asshole!”

After quickly finishing his beer in one sip, he helped you down the stairs. You couldn’t stand the pain. Each time you felt pain, objects around you would break. As you were walking towards the main entrance, you passed by a coffee table with a vase on it.

“Ah! Fuck!” You winced as a contraction hit you hard. The vase exploded as a result. “Shit!”

“It’s okay, Charles hated that vase anyways!” Logan assured you. In reality, the vase was a gift that was in his family for years. Maybe Charles wouldn’t notice.

“Logan!” The couple heard Rogue yell out. “I’m coming with you!”

Before Logan could protest, you scream once more causing several objects in the living room to break like tables and chairs. Even the TV screen had exploded. You didn’t mean to do that.

“Just help me get her into the car.” Logan instructed Rogue, who quickly ran to your side and helped you down the steps of the mansion.

“I really really hate you right now.” You said to Logan.

“Love you too, sweetheart.”

[starkeyvhs]

no. 1 party anthem — chapter I

PAIRING: drew starkey x tennis player!reader 

CHAPTER WARNINGS: high school au; banter between drew and reader; one (1) suggestive joke (? if it even counts lol); reader and drew love frank ocean lol; minor swearing

WORD COUNT: 2.4k

EDITH SPEAKS: I hope you all enjoy reading this! let me know any thoughts you may have :) I hope this chapter gives a good insight into what reader and drew’s dynamic is like LOL, anyways all kinds of reblogs and feedbacks are always highly appreciated!

series masterlist / join my taglist 

— APRIL, 2012

The chatter fills the inconveniently tiny dressing room, students in extravagant costumes and extravagant makeup to match their clothes frantically running around, trying to get everything ready at the last minute. Some are mumbling their dialogues over and over under their breath as if it’s some mantra, some are practicing their specific actions for their role, and some are simply chill. 

Like Mr. Joseph. 

Drew sits in front of his vanity flipping through his script casually, as if he really doesn’t have the most important role in the play, the warm glow of the bulbs around the mirror only highlighting his makeup more.

“Romeo!” 

He looks up, his lips morphing into a smile on their own when he sees you. 

You reach up to him and give him a firm slap on his back – something he’s used to, and would never admit to your face that it’s actually hard – a big grin on your face. 

“Here to wish you to break a leg,” you say, resting your arm on his shoulder as you look at him sitting as you stand next to him. 

“Yeah thanks,” he smiles back, keeping his script on the table in front of him. 

“You excited? You’re playing your dream role,” you say back, looking at his reflection in the mirror of him, eyeing his Romeo outfit. 

“Uh huh yes I am,” he says, looking at his reflection too, and once running his hand through his hair to fix it. 

“Bet you’re excited more about kissing Ms. Cindy on the stage,” you tease, flicking his ear. 

His smile falls and his cheeks begin flushing a pink at your words, and what sucks even more is that he can’t even deny it. 

“Shut up,” he mumbles, distracting himself with his script again. 

You laugh, snatching the script from his hand and ignoring his protests by keeping it out of your reach. 

“Oh come on,” you drawl, “I know you are.” You move closer to him, your lips almost brushing his ear as you grin wickedly at his reflection. “You know, even some girls wouldn’t mind getting a taste of her,”

“Yeah okay that’s enough,” he says almost immediately, abruptly standing up from his chair as he clears his throat. 

You can’t control your laughter as Drew begins to make his way towards where all the actors required for the first act are assembling, you right on his heels. 

“Okay leave that,” you say, “but did you even think about how your parents, and all your little siblings are out there, and are going to watch you get a lip action with Ms. Queen Bee?” 

Drew’s walking immediately stops and he turns around to look at you. He can’t get mad at you; ever, actually, but there’s something about that annoying smirk on your smart mouth that’s getting to him. 

You can see he’s getting flustered, so you take the bait, of course. “You didn’t, did you?” And you laugh that same laugh each time you tease him: which is almost every minute of every hour you spend together. 

“Ugh shut up,” he groans, shutting his eyes and tipping his head back. “You know those little nasty buggers won’t ever stop teasing me, ever,” he mumbles under his breath. 

“I know, that’s why I’m going to feed this bit of information that it’s also your first kiss to them,” you grin. 

Drew’s eyes widen, a fair hint of warning in them, but before he can say or do anything, you’re rushing to the exit of the dressing room. 

“Alright that’s it, good luck!” You say out loud, your voice carrying a sing-song tone as you slip out the door. 

Drew takes a moment to regain himself, shaking his head at your antics. He knows you like to mess around a lot, and he also knows about how much you value loyalty in friendships, so even though you said you’ll tell his little siblings about his first kiss being on the final play of his senior year in front of a massive crowd, you actually won’t do it. The thought relieves him immensely, before he redirects his focus back at what he’s actually here for. 

He can hear the chatter of the crowd reducing and slowly reaching a bare minimal level, meaning the play is about to start. 

Their teacher gives them some final instructions, giving them all words of encouragement as her last words, before allowing the first act to begin. 

Drew lets out a deep breath. 

Alright, here goes nothing.

⊹₊⋆.˚୨୧⋆.˚₊ ⊹

“There he is! Our superstar!” 

Drew’s family’s cheers only get louder as they watch him come into the crowd from the backstage. All the actors are with their families now, greeting them and receiving gifts and compliments, and Drew definitely isn’t going to get something less. 

He laughs as he joins everyone, his parents being the first ones to hug him. 

“You kissed a girl on stage,” his youngest sister teases, a big grin on her face and his other two siblings giggle with her. He rolls his eyes at them, grumbling a small ‘shut up’ under his breath. 

His eyes find yours, seeing you silently laughing at the entire scene. He shakes his head at you and sticks his tongue out, walking closer to you. 

“Joseph that was great,” you smile, and you give him the bouquet you got for him. 

“You got me flowers?” He grins, taking the bouquet of fresh white lilies and sniffing them. “Why, aren’t you a softie?” 

“Shut up,” you mumble, smacking his arm playfully. He only laughs at you. 

“Well, thank you sweetheart,” he grins, the nickname slipping out with a gentle ease. It doesn’t happen often, but when it does, it just always seems so natural the way it rolls off his tongue. 

You only playfully roll your eyes at him, ignoring the gentle tingling feeling in your tummy from how perfect that nickname sounds in his voice. 

After that, he’s quick to be by your side, his arm around your shoulders as you two walk out the theatre. 

“So, you up for a drive?” He asks you, “I talked to mom, she’s okay with it,” 

“Oh yeah,” you say, “sure,” you smile. 

You walk out to the parking lot, where your car is parked. You toss your keys to Drew and he sits in the driver’s seat, you next to him in the passenger’s seat. He drives out of the parking lot of the school, making his way onto the main roads. 

You and Drew like to take drives together often. He takes control of the wheel and just drives around roads, your favourite music playing and you both talking about everything. Or sometimes, instead of talking, you opt to stay quiet, which is needed at its own times.

“So, tell me,” you say, your car’s windows rolled down, allowing fresh air to whip past you two inside. “How was your experience playing Romeo and kissing Cindy on stage,” you grin. Your phone – which is connected to the car’s speakers – plays Blonde, right from the first track. 

Drew groans, his focus on the road in front of him. “You know, you really need to drop that entire Cindy thing. It was just a peck,” he says. 

“Peck? A peck? Mister you were making out! You weren’t starring in some adult version of Romeo and Juliet mind you,” you shoot back, but your grin doesn’t wipe off. 

“Ugh whatever,” he mumbles, his gaze not wavering from the view in front of him. You sigh quietly, relaxing against the seat. 

“No but seriously, Drew,” you begin speaking, your voice taking a softer tone, “you were really good. Like, seriously, you were… amazing. That was really some Broadway level acting right there,” 

Drew remains quiet and you look at him, watching how his lips slowly curve into a small smile. 

“Is that so?” He asks, his own voice slightly soft. 

“Yeah,” you smile, “I was… amazed. You’ve done so many plays for the school and I always tell you how good you’ve been, but this one… you were exceptional,” 

A bashful expression takes over Drew’s face, and you watch how a soft blush sprinkles his cheeks and a gentle smile only widens on his lips. 

“I… I worked hard for this one,” he says, taking a glance at you before focusing back on the road, “like, I really did. We used to have 5 hour rehearsals for days on end and…” he lets out a deep breath, a small silence falling over you two, only Frank’s voice to accompany you, “yeah.” He chuckles softly. “It was draining, but it was fun,” 

“You know what I think?” You begin speaking, and he hums in response. “I think you can make it. Like, to Hollywood, or Broadway, or maybe both. I really think you can,”

Drew lets out a small laugh at your words. “Hollywood? Broadway? I have a one in a million chance to make that, you know,” he chuckles. 

“I know, and I really do think that one chance is all yours,” you speak. Drew can hear the conviction in your words, the way you’re still saying how you believe he can make it even when he made a small joke to lighten the mood. 

Drew catches another glance of you before focusing back on the empty road in front of him. “You really think so?” He mumbles softly. “I can make it? I can be a Hollywood star?” 

There is a hopeful glint to Drew’s voice, as if what you say is what always turns true. 

“Yeah,” you smile softly, “I really think you can. Just think: Joseph Starkey, biggest actor of all time. I can imagine your face plastered on billboards everywhere,” 

He laughs at your words. “Joseph Starkey sounds dorky. I think I’ll let my name be Drew Starkey instead,” 

“Okay okay, Drew Starkey does it too,” you laugh. “But, whatever the name will be, trust me, if you work for it, you’re gonna get it,” 

Drew smiles at you, and you lean back against your seat, looking out as you watch all the houses and trees whip by, Solo playing on the speakers. 

“You know,” he begins speaking after a moment or two of silence, and you turn your head to look at him, “you’re probably the only one who really believes in me that way. I mean, yeah, my family does too but, it’s different with you,” he says softly, “which, is why I want you to be the first person who I tell this to,” 

You furrow your brows at his words and sit up straighter in the seat, looking at him. “Yeah what is it?” You ask. 

“When the play finished and all of us were backstage,” he begins, and you watch him speak from his side, “Ms. Lydia bought this man there. He is the owner of this huge film camp that he organises each year for the summers, and… along with a select few, I was offered to attend this camp,”

Your eyes widen at his words. “What? Oh my god dude that’s insane!” You exclaim. “Tell me you’re going, you have to go!” 

Drew softly laughs at your excitement, catching a glimpse of your elated expression. “Well, missy, it’s not here, it’s in Boston, so that means I’ll be away for the entire summer,” 

For a moment, Drew doesn’t hear anything from your end. He turns to look at you, and when he does, he realises he can’t really pinpoint the expression on your face. Your lips are slightly parted: but besides that, there’s no other emotion present. 

“What?” He chuckles, now looking back at the road. “Don’t go all mute on me, say something,” 

“So that’s… three months in Boston,” you say slowly, almost cautiously, as if you’re testing the words on your tongue. 

“Yeah, three months in Boston,” he repeats. “Oh come on, don’t say you’ll miss me or some shit. Such a sap,” 

“What? No, who said that?” You retort back immediately, and Drew chuckles at your attempt to deflect facing your actual feelings. “It’s that I’m worried, you know?”

“Uh huh, how so if I may ask?” He asks amusedly, shaking his head at your antics. 

“I’m worried ’cause uh… A: you’ll be going so far from home on your own for the very first time,” you begin, “and… and B, you won’t know how to do your… laundry,” you finish lamely. 

“Laundry?” Drew chuckles amusedly. “I know how to use a washing machine, you know? I think me and my laundry will be absolutely fine,” 

“Okay, well that’s… that’s good to know you have all that in check,” you mumble under your breath, turning to look back out the car. You can hear Drew silently laughing to himself at your ‘concerns’ regarding him, and you force yourself to keep on ignoring it. 

“Well,” Drew is the one to break the silence. Your ears perk up at his voice but you don’t turn to look at him. “I’ll miss you, a lot,” He says, and his voice is toned down, and is incredibly tender. 

Drew knows what you’ll do: you’ll take his words and turn them into your advantage, a sinister smile curving your beautiful lips, and you’ll laugh that pretty laugh, and call him a ‘softie’ or a ‘sap’ and tease him endlessly. 

But, you don’t. 

“I’ll miss you too,” are the words which leave your lips instead, and Drew is taken aback. He keeps his emotions in check though, keeping a straight face as he keeps on driving. 

You both fall silent yet again, and all that’s accompanying you this time is Self Control playing. The melancholic rhythm along with its soulful lyrics and Frank’s voice really isn’t doing much to subdue the sudden awkward silence between the two of you. 

“But…” Drew begins to speak, “I still don’t know if I’ll attend it, you know? I mean, I still have to consider it with my parents and… and yeah, all that jazz,” he says with a short chuckle. 

“Uh yeah, yeah yeah that makes sense,” you say, trying to uplift the mood in the car. “But… you should go, it’s a very good opportunity for you,” 

Drew catches a glimpse of you and passes you a small smile, which you return. He focuses back on the road, and you opt to look back out of the car, your head resting back against the seat. 

Usually, he sometimes yearns for this kind of silence with you, because it’s comforting, and even when he knows something’s bothering him, realising you’re by his side automatically makes the problem seem smaller. 

Each other’s presence, the weight of the unsaid words and Frank’s singing is all you have with you, as Drew continues to drive on your usual route. 

⊹₊⋆.˚୨୧⋆.˚₊ ⊹

taglist: @oxpogues4lifexo / @inthelibrarybtw / @mileyraes / @totalswag / @chenslucy / @mariamadison6-blog / @snowtargaryen / @htlkira / @wearemadeofstardust0 / @percysley / @acidfeens + let me know if you want to be tagged for the future parts!

tagging a few moots: @runningfrom2am / @zyafics / @ilyrafe / @nemesyaaa / @ladyinbl00d / @jjsbank444 / @b1mb0slvt / @maddsxfall / @congratsloserr / @oceandriveab

[myboipotterimagines]

Golden Pt. 5 - Weasley Twins x Reader

Hi everyone! Thank you for all the support on the last few chapters. I have really enjoyed writing this fanfic, and I hope y'all like reading it. This is probably my favorite one yet. Enjoy!

Again, 18+, minors dni. Love you all. <3

Other parts: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

George had decided that he would, in fact, be joining you in Hogsmeade. He wasted no time in getting ready, clearly not wanting to leave you alone with his twin for any longer. For someone who didn't care about you, he sure was fucking jealous.

Leaving the shop hit you with the truth of reality like a brick to the chest. Diagon Alley was desolate and destroyed, the shop one of the only businesses still in operation. You clung to Fred. "He's growing stronger, isn't he?" you asked, though even you knew it wasn't a question so much as a statement. Fred leaned down to kiss your temple. "I'm afraid so. But nothing will happen to you while you're with us." "With Fred, at least," George smirked, moving to the front of the charge. "I'm more of an every man for himself type of guy." Fred rolled his eyes. "Ignore him." He laced his fingers into yours and for a moment, your heart stopped beating. A coy smile took its place on your lips as you looked up to find a matching one on his.

"So what all do we need in Hogsmeade?" you finally asked as you walked to the edge of Diagon Alley. A group of wizards had set up an anti-apparition barrier within the streets of the town, hoping to increase its protection against Dark Magic. The borders were patrolled, which did a little to ease your anxiety.

"As much as I love seeing you in my clothes, I think it's time you get some of your own," Fred laughs, his words bringing a blush to your cheeks. "I have also decided to turn our office into a temporary bedroom for you, until you feel more comfortable in ours."

Your heart jumped again. Every so often, ,you would forget that these two were your soulmates, not just a new relationship. Eventually you would all share a bedroom, and a bed, and a life. Your future was as intertwined as your fingers. George finally looked back at the two of you, glancing for only a moment at your hands, then back ahead of him.

"We're at the edge," he said firmly. "I'll apparate us." He reached out one hand to his brother, then one to you. The same pulse of energy ran through you as you touched. You were completely wrapped around the finger of the two, and unsure if it was exciting or terrifying.

The village of Hogsmeade was still as beautiful as it had always been. Since it was an inhabited city of wizards, it was harder to vandalize unnoticed.

"I'll go get the bedroom furniture," George said, immediately dropping your hand. He was gone before anyone could protest. Fred barely noticed, taking a moment to pull you into him, kissing your forehead lightly. "Let's go get you some clothes, love."

Fred made sure you had clothes for every occasion, but your eyes always drifted to the dresses on the racks. He insisted that you needed every one you tried on, eyes raking your body with each new fabric. He even went so far as to outfit you with a slinky silk nightdress that he had adored. If it hadn't fallen slightly past your bum, he would've insisted you go home in it. Instead, he picked out a soft red sundress for you to wear the rest of the day. By the time you were finished, Fred's hands were full of bags, and George was waiting outside.

"Did the princess do some damage in there?" George asked with a smirk. Your own face dropped at his use of your nickname - the one he had only used as his hands had fucked you. "She wouldn't have needed so much if we hadn't basically kidnapped her," Fred laughed. "Where's all the shit you were supposed to get?" "Delivered and assembled," he smiled. "I go above and beyond, dear brother." Fred rolled his eyes. "Let me drop this off and we can grab dinner at the Three Broomsticks. Could you two get us a table without killing each other?" You smiled. "I think we can manage." You placed a kiss on Fred's cheek before he apparated away.

"How long are you going to wait to tell him that I've been inside of you?" You groaned. "I don't know, George. You'll be happy to know you've put me in quite the fucking predicament. So I'm sure you're bloody elated." "He can't be too mad, considering you're fucking him, too." All of the color drained from your face as you stopped in your tracks. You took a moment to regain your composure. "I am. He's my soulmate and he's fucking nice to me." You took a step closer to George. "I would do anything for him." George took a step closer to you, closing the distance between you, before leaning down to whisper in your ear. "I didn't even have to be nice to get you to open your legs." You spun to slap him, but he caught your hand, holding it tightly within his grasp. "No need for violence, princess. Unless that's what you like."

Upon arriving at the Three Broomsticks, the two of you took a booth at the back of the restaurant, George slipping in beside of you. "You really have to sit next to me?" you asked. "Unfortunately. The only thing worse than sitting next to you is sitting across from you and having to look into your eyes the whole evening. I'll leave Fred that torture." "Fred actually likes me, George. Even though you seem hellbent on stopping him from doing so." "It takes two to tango, sweetheart. You know as well as I do that you wanted last night to happen. Probably can't wait for it to happen again." "You're the one who came onto me. You wanted it as much as I did."

George shifted in his seat to look you straight in the eye. As he did, he snaked his hand under your dress and up the middle of your thighs, only stopping at your core. You squirmed from his touch, but his thumb found its way to your clit and his index to your already soaking entrance. He leaned in to your ear, using his free hand to push back your hair. "Like I said, seems like you can't wait for it to happen again." You pushed him off of you, face only reddening as he took his fingers into his mouth to clean them off. "Mm, sweet as honey, princess."

"What is?" Fred asked, sliding across from the two of you. "George what the hell did you do to her?" he added upon seeing your reddened face. "I didn't do anything, Freddie. The poor thing is just embarrassed she's never had Butterbeer." "Never?" Fred asked. You shook your head - a lie, but it would do. "Didn't think I'd like it."

Fred immediately jumped into action, ordering a round of Butterbeer to go with your meals. Hopefully you feigned surprise well when you tasted it for the 'first time'. Fred seemed to buy it, at least. George tried to ignore you the entire evening.

He was successful until you arrived home. "Let me show you your bedroom," he called, not checking to see if you were following before he started walking away. Your bedroom was on the first floor of the shop, nestled cozily in the back. Though the room wasn't very big, George had managed to fit a bed, dresser, and desk into the space. Fred had already spelled your clothes away, filling in the new dresser. "This is incredible. Thank -" you turned to thank George, but he was already gone. Your blood grew hot - he was not going to humiliate you and then ignore you for the rest of the evening. He was going to fucking pay.

At the very top of one of your drawers held the black silk dress. You quickly stripped into nothing but the nightdress, letting your hair fall loose on your shoulders to accompany it. It was beautiful, and you needed to thank Fred for getting it for you.

You didn't bother with a robe or slippers as you ascended the staircase to the twins' room. You knocked on the already opened doorframe, grabbing the attention of Fred first. "Holy shit," he murmured, taking in your body like he was seeing it for the first time. You entered their room, noting George's agape mouth as you moved. "I just wanted to thank you both for putting my room together. I'm the luckiest girl on the planet to have you," you said, smiling at Fred.

"I'm the lucky one," Fred murmured, fingers slipping up and down your frame. "You're so fucking beautiful." You kissed him tenderly, heart melting at his words. "I love you, Fred," you whispered, words leaving your mouth before you could stop them.

George pulled the two of you apart. "All right, get the fuck out of here and go to bed." "What the fuck, George?" Fred asked. "She's clearly drunk, Fred! She needs to go the fuck to bed." "No, I'm not!" you protested. "I had like two Butterbeers." "Apparently, you're a lightweight, then." You looked at Fred to back you up, but his face was downturned. "Your face is super flushed, love. Maybe you should get some rest." "I'll make sure she gets downstairs, then she's on her own. Tomorrow is a big day for all of us and I need a fucking shower." "Goodnight, love," Fred called. "Goodnight, Fred," you frowned. "I do love you." His expression didn't change.

As soon as you were in your room, George locked the door behind you and cast a silencing spell on the room. "I am not drunk, George. What the hell is wrong with you?" "What the hell is wrong with me? What the hell is wrong with you? You clearly came up there to try and seduce me. And then you tell Fred you fucking love him? He is not a tool to fucking abuse."

You threw a pillow at him, which he wordlessly deflected. "Not everything is about you!" you yell. "I do love him! More than anything," you voice quiets with each word. You draw in a shaky breath as you lower onto the bed.

George walks over to you, holding your chin in his hands. His eyes glare daggers into yours. "I don't believe you." Your gaze doesn't break. "I don't need you to." "I'll tell him. Everything." "And what is 'everything', exactly? That you fingered me? That you want to fuck me? That you need me as much as I need you?" His grip tightened, pulling you to your feet. "I do not need you. I don't even fucking want you."

In one swift motion, you reversed your spots, pushing George onto the bed. He stared up at you as you held your fingertips to his chest, holding him in place. "For someone who doesn't want me, you seem to spend a lot of time inside of me." He laughed. "Because you're fucking easy. It didn't even take a full day to get with you. It didn't take two before you were with both of us."

You pushed him back farther onto the bed, straddling him. "I think you're the easy one, Georgie. If I was so easy, I would've made you cum instead of your brother." "Fuck you," he snarls, grabbing a handful of your hair. "If you'd like," you retort, grinding your already wet cunt against him. He's clearly hard underneath of you, despite the layers of clothing separating him from you. "Fucking slut," he groans, wrapping an arm around your back to support your position. "I'll stop if you want me to," you repeat his own words back to him. "But I don't think you want me to."

"Fuck," he groaned. "I need you right fucking now." His nails dug through your slinky dress and into the skin underneath, pulling you as close to him as he could. "Thought you didn't want me, Georgie? Now you need me?" you mocked, slowing your hips to almost a stop. George brought his hands to your hips, moving you against him once more. Your core ignited, but you held your moans.

George did not hold his. His teeth sank into your neck, leaving bite marks and kisses from your hairline to your clavicle. When he bit into your earlobe, your first moan escaped your lips. "There you go, baby girl, let it out." His fingers moved from your waist to your cunt, tracing your entrance. "So wet for me already," he laughed. His lips returned to your ear. "Let me take care of you."

You slowed to a stop once more, taking in the labored breathing and flushed face of the man before you. "What happened to every man for himself?" You leaned into his neck, whispering in his ear. "I'm not letting someone fuck me who wouldn't protect me from a Death Eater."

His face grows hard as you stand from him. Before you can exit the room, he pulls you onto the bed, pinning your hands. On instinct, your legs kick at him with all your might, causing him to straddle you to restrain you. "You don't have to fuck me, princess. But, you will know that I would protect you with my last fucking breath. I would lay down my life to save yours. So you can go to Fred to satisfy your needs, but you will not go under the impression that I would ever betray you."

After a moment, he frees your hands, which immediately latch onto his shoulders and pull him into you. For the first time, your lips meet, starving for touch. George can't get close enough to you, holding you by the waist and hair, locking your body against his. You begin reaching for the seam of his jeans, but he grabs your wrists with one hand and holds them over your head, using the other to hold open your legs as he sinks into your pussy. A moan rips through you as he licks stripes up and down your core, taking particular interest in your clit. He moans as he devours you, eliciting another string of moans and curses from your lips.

You cry out when he pulls away, devastatingly close to orgasm. "You taste so good, baby girl, but I need to feel you cum on my cock. Do you want that?" You nod, but he shakes his head. "I need words, princess." "Yes, please." With a wave of his hand, the rest of his clothes were gone. Even though he had seen most of your body, you had seen none of his. You drank in the sight of him, memorizing every curve of his body like it was the last time you'd ever see it. He lined himself up at your entrance, the contact alone making you moan. "You ready?" he asks. "Please," you beg, your body aching for his.

He pushes in slow, a mixture of his moans and yours filling the room. "You feel so fucking good," he finally says once he's bottomed out. You smile up at him, too fucked to say any actual words. "So fucking beautiful with my cock in you, princess." He thrusts into you again, pulling moans from your mouth like a prayer. His pace quickens to a breakneck speed, bringing you right to the edge of orgasm once more. "I'm gonna-" you start, before a new wave of moans leave your lips as his thumb connects with your clit. "Cum, baby girl. Come for me."

Once again, his words send you over the edge, orgasm exploding through you like a bomb. Your moans turn into screams of his name as you ride out the orgasm. Your cunt spasms from the aftershock, drawing out George's orgasm, spilling himself into you. Without a word, he spells away his seed, leaving you empty of him. You groan at his absence, but he lays beside you and pulls you into his chest. You burrow deep into him, inhaling his scent. His fingers trail patterns on your back, leaving only goosebumps in their wake.

No one speaks for ages, and you were sure George was asleep before he whispers three words. "I love you."

Tears fill your eyes as guilt fills your heart. "I love you, too."

***

Okay, I hope you all love this chapter because I loved writing it!! We will unfortunately have some angst coming up, but I promise to make up for it with a ton of fluff! Let me know how you're liking the story so far and if you would like added to the taglist! I try to add everyone who asks, and I am very sorry if I forget anyone!

Taglist (sorry if I miss anyone): @rk-ceres @foji2000 @hazilyss, @f-e-222 @luthien-elvenia-asher @trashy-panda777 @rhunew @crossedskulls @shadowmoonlight0604 @mochiseni @jenniferpendragon @fonderaura @pyromaniac-fairy-of-water @theveiledlibrarian, @xmadigurlx, @maxsisly, @meg-cal, @ivseceret

[saintzweig]

This is gonna be such a wild ask, but it’s inspired by a tiktok so don’t blame me. It’s a universal experience for some of us that as kids in school, we saw the gym teacher come into the class and try to “rizz” up the teacher by calling out a kid whose misbehaving. It was like their way of trying to get with the teacher? Anyways, I just noticed that pat in his little tennis outfit looks like a gym teacher dcjhefghjj. Like full stop.

Girl I don’t know. Make the reader a teacher of whatever subject and pat the hot gym teacher who always likes to bother her, coming into the class to do so and the kids don’t mind cuz they love him, and other stuff

OHHHH pleaseee omgomgomgomf

patrick finally giving up pro tennis after new rochelle and settling down in a small town with the prize money, where he gets a job as a gym teacher at a local middle school. you've been working there for atleast two years as an english teacher and you were assigned to show him around the school on his first day. and he tries to be professional and not make any advancements towards you but you're just so pretty and smart that he can't help but let a few comments slip.

fast forward a year later, he's the most popular teacher in school. maybe not the best teacher but he's good with kids, they think he's fun and cool and always so excited to see him. his office is right across from your room so whenever he has free time, he pops his head in with a grin, asking for a pen or a marker or anything he can think of. you only roll your eyes as your students say hi and chatter amongst themselves.

during assemblies, he'd always stand next to you and call out any students misbehaving. but not in a strict "kids, quiet down" way but more like "kids, we don't want to make ms. (name) angry now, do we?" in a soft teasing tone, they only shake their head no and mutter an apology to you. it annoys you a bit, feeling like he's undermining you but you think its cute how the kids listen to him so well.

one day, a 'rumor' that patrick likes you starts to spread and your students, being the little shitheads they are, starts teasing you more and more. "is mr.z your boyfriend?" "do you also like mr.z?" and patrick, of course, hearing this rumor starts coming by your room more than usual, causing an uproar among the kids in your room. he only brings a finger up to his lips to quiet them down before revealing the bouquet of flowers he was hiding behind him. he pushes it into your arms and immediately rushes out of the room without saying a word. and you're left standing there with your face red, holding the bouquet as you listen to your students start to freak out.

patrick is definitely going to get a beating once you get home to the small apartment you share :)

[novaursa]

Legacy (at the gates)

- Summary: Tywin was the man who saved you from Robert's wrath. He was also the man who doomed you.

- Paring: targ!reader/Tywin Lannister

- Note: This is just a reminder how some events have been changed from the (show/books) canon.

- Rating: Mature 16+

- Previous part: power play

- Next part: homecoming

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @oxymakestheworldgoround

The week passes in a blur, each day slipping away faster than the last, leaving you with little time to prepare for what awaits in King’s Landing. Tywin’s men are efficient, their preparations moving with the relentless rhythm of a well-oiled machine, as if they’d been anticipating this journey for months. Finally, the morning of your departure arrives, and you stand within the inner courtyard of Harrenhal, mounted upon a dark bay mare outfitted in fine leather tack emblazoned with the sigil of House Lannister.

The attire Arya brought to your chambers clings to you like a second skin—soft, supple leather in the richest shades of deep maroon, lined with subtle golden threads that glint faintly in the morning light. It feels like both armor and chain, a physical reminder of the path laid before you, binding you to Tywin’s will. The thought of it tightens your chest, but you keep your posture steady, refusing to show anything but calm to those around you.

Tywin sits atop a white warhorse to your right, his form stiff and regal as ever, his expression a mask of stoic indifference as he surveys the men assembling around him. His presence exudes authority, every inch of him radiating an aura that commands obedience and respect. His gaze occasionally shifts toward you, a brief flicker of something like satisfaction flashing in his eyes, as though he’s admiring his own handiwork.

“Comfortable?” he asks, his voice a low murmur, his eyes never leaving the bustling activity around him.

You force a small nod, feeling the weight of his gaze. “Comfortable enough, Lord Tywin.”

He raises an eyebrow, the faintest hint of amusement tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You should be. The attire suits you. Practical, and appropriate for a journey of this length.”

Around you, the men bustle with final preparations, double-checking saddlebags, adjusting armor straps, and ensuring that every piece of equipment is secured. The air hums with a quiet anxiety, the focused movements of soldiers preparing to escort their lord and his intended bride. Some of them glance at you with thinly veiled curiosity, their expressions flickering between curiosity and unease, but you keep your gaze trained forward, ignoring the murmurs that ripple through the ranks.

“Is all in order, Ser Addam?” Tywin’s voice breaks through the activity, sharp and commanding as he addresses Addam Marbrand, who oversees the preparations with his usual severity.

Addam gives a curt nod, his eyes flicking to you briefly before he bows his head. “Aye, my lord. The path has been scouted, and the supplies are in order. We’ll reach King’s Landing with minimal delay.”

“Good,” Tywin replies, a note of satisfaction in his tone. “I expect nothing less.”

Your eyes drift over the men, taking in the sight of bannermen and soldiers alike, all bearing the Lannister colors. The reality of your departure from Harrenhal—of the path that will soon lead you to the capital and into the very heart of Tywin’s web—settles over you, heavy and unyielding.

Then, in the corner of your vision, you catch a flicker of movement. Your gaze snaps toward it, and for a brief moment, you spot a small figure darting between the rows of horses and wagons. A flash of dark hair, quick and determined. Arya. Your heart skips a beat as you watch her moving with frantic urgency, ducking low to avoid drawing attention from the guards.

You’re unsure what she’s doing, or if she’s simply come to see you off in secret, but the sight of her—determined, resilient, and stubborn as ever—fills you with a sense of both dread and hope. She’s risking everything to be here, to be near you, and you wonder if this is her last effort to somehow keep the promise she made in your chambers.

You keep your gaze steady, careful not to linger too long, but Tywin catches your wandering glance and follows it, his expression sharpening. “Something of interest, Lady Y/N?”

You turn back to him, forcing a neutral expression. “Merely observing the preparations, my lord,” you reply, keeping your voice calm.

He watches you for a moment, his eyes narrowed, but he seems satisfied with your answer, returning his attention to the line of men assembling before him. His focus shifts to Kevan, who approaches with a solemn nod, ready to deliver a final report.

“All is prepared, brother,” Kevan says, his voice steady as he glances between you and Tywin. “The men await your command.”

Tywin nods, a faint gleam of satisfaction in his eyes. “Very well. Then we depart without further delay.”

He raises his voice, addressing the gathered soldiers. “We ride to King’s Landing. Stay alert, stay in formation, and follow orders without question. I will not tolerate delays or distractions.”

A murmur of assent ripples through the men, their faces set with the grim resolve of seasoned warriors. You feel the weight of their eyes on you as well, a quiet acknowledgment that you are now part of this journey, bound to Tywin’s fate, whatever it may bring.

The gates of Harrenhal creak open, and with a sharp command from Tywin, the procession begins to move, the horses’ hooves striking a steady rhythm against the stone. Your mare shifts beneath you, sensing the energy in the air, and you tighten your grip on the reins, feeling the cool leather beneath your fingers. 

Just as you settle into the pace, a final glance toward the edge of the crowd reveals Arya once more, her face half-hidden in shadow, her expression fierce and determined as she watches you depart. Her lips form silent words, a message meant only for you, but the distance between you makes it impossible to decipher.

The guard nudges your mare forward, and the sight of Arya slips from view, leaving you with a lingering sense of both worry and a faint, fragile hope that somehow, against all odds, you will find your way out of Tywin’s carefully laid plans.

Arya crouches behind the edge of a cart, watching with her heart in her throat as Lady Y/N, mounted on her dark bay mare, is led out of Harrenhal. The procession is a tightly controlled, every soldier in place, every movement orchestrated under Tywin’s command. Lady Y/N sits beside him, composed, her face a mask that hides the turmoil Arya knows must be churning beneath.

She swallows hard, her fingers twitching with frustration. She’s promised to help her, but with the guards and Tywin’s hawk-eyed vigilance, there’s no chance of reaching her now, not with the Lannisters coiled around her like an iron cage.

Arya glances around quickly, searching for any sign of her only hope—Jaqen. Her gaze darts over soldiers, attendants, the chaos of preparation, and finally, near the edge of the crowd, she spots him, watching from a distance with that enigmatic calm of his. She waves her hand, trying to catch his attention, her heart pounding as she wills him to act.

Suddenly, a scream pierces the air. Arya whips her head around to see a man—a guard she’d named to Jaqen just yesterday—stumble forward, his eyes wide with shock, clutching at his throat. He gurgles once, blood pouring from his lips, and collapses to the ground, dead before he even hits the dirt.

Chaos erupts like a wildfire. Soldiers shout, scrambling to understand what’s happened, while attendants and horses rear back, the orderly procession crumbling into confusion. Shouts of “Murder!” and “Assassin!” fill the air, echoing off the high stone walls of Harrenhal.

Arya’s heart races as she seizes her chance, darting forward in the chaos, slipping between guards and soldiers distracted by the sudden pandemonium. Her eyes stay locked on Lady Y/N, the only calm figure amidst the turmoil, her gaze focused forward, though Arya knows she’s aware of the storm brewing behind her.

But Tywin acts with swift precision, barely flinching as he registers the uproar. With a curt command, he steers his white warhorse closer to Lady Y/N, tightening the circle of guards around them. His gaze snaps from the fallen man back to the road ahead, unfazed, as if the scene unfolding behind him were nothing more than a minor inconvenience.

Arya tries to push through the mass of soldiers, desperation flooding her veins as she calls out, her voice lost in the din. “Lady Y/N! Wait!”

But Tywin hears it, his sharp gaze briefly scanning the crowd. For a heartbeat, his eyes land on her, and Arya freezes, ducking down behind the jostling bodies, her heart slamming in her chest.

Tywin’s gaze flickers with brief irritation before he turns back to Lady Y/N, his voice low and commanding. “We ride on,” he says, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Stay close to me, Lady Y/N. This rabble won’t delay us further.”

He stirs his horse forward, urging the mare beside him onward, his guards falling back into formation around them, each one alert and armed. Lady Y/N casts one last glance back, her gaze searching through the crowd, and Arya sees her eyes, filled with a mixture of worry and resignation, a silent farewell that tears at Arya’s heart.

Desperate, Arya lunges forward, only to be stopped as another guard stumbles into her path, yelling orders to the surrounding soldiers. She stumbles back, pushed aside by the throng, helpless as she watches Tywin and Lady Y/N slip further and further from view, swallowed by the line of armored men, their forms growing smaller with each passing second.

A heavy hand falls on her shoulder, and she turns, wide-eyed, to find Jaqen standing beside her, his expression unreadable, calm as ever. “A girl is bold,” he murmurs, his voice low. “But some rivers cannot be crossed so swiftly.”

Arya’s eyes burn with frustration and helplessness. “You have to help her, Jaqen!” she hisses, her voice fierce with desperation. “They’re taking her to King’s Landing. To Tywin. She’s… she’ll be trapped.”

Jaqen regards her quietly, his gaze steady, unfazed by the chaos swirling around them. “A man has done what was promised,” he says simply, his tone soft but resolute. “One death is given. The rest… lies with the gods.”

Arya shakes her head, her fists clenched at her sides, feeling the bitterness of helplessness settle over her like a shroud. “But she—she’s like family to me.”

Jaqen tilts his head, his eyes holding hers with an unsettling intensity. “A girl’s heart is strong,” he replies softly. “But even the strongest must learn patience. Fate does not answer all wishes at once.”

Arya watches as the last glimpse of Lady Y/N fades beyond the gates, her figure swallowed by the distance, taken far from her reach, and an ache settles in her chest, heavy and unyielding. She feels Jaqen’s hand rest on her shoulder, a silent reminder of promises made, yet it does nothing to quell the fierce longing within her to fight, to change this fate.

But as Tywin and his company disappear over the rise, leaving only dust and echoes in their wake, Arya is left standing amidst the chaos, her heart burning with the promise she made to herself—that one day, she will see Lady Y/N free, no matter what it takes.

The clamor of Harrenhal fades as Tywin’s voice cuts through the frenzied shouts and chaos. He leans forward in his saddle, his posture commanding, every inch the seasoned lord who won’t tolerate disruptions or delays.

“Keep moving!” he orders, his voice a whip crack that drives the soldiers back into formation. “Leave the rabble to clean their own mess.”

You tighten your grip on the reins, steadying your mare as the horse senses your anxiety, her ears flicking back nervously. Behind you, Harrenhal is a blur of shouting voices and movement, guards scrambling to restore order after the unexpected death. You look back instinctively, a pang of worry in your chest, hoping to catch sight of Arya one last time, but the mass of bodies makes it impossible to distinguish her small figure amidst the confusion.

Tywin’s gaze doesn’t miss your fleeting glance backward. He gives you a measured look, one brow raised, the faintest edge of irritation glinting in his eyes. “Eyes forward, Lady Y/N,” he says, his tone cutting. “You’ll find little to gain in looking back.”

You nod, though you can feel your jaw tightening in defiance. “It’s difficult not to look back when leaving behind chaos, Lord Tywin.”

His lips press into a thin line, and he straightens, guiding his white warhorse alongside yours with practiced ease. “A lesson, then: a true leader does not linger over disruptions. A clear mind is necessary if one is to lead,” he says, his gaze fixed firmly on the path ahead. “There will always be chaos for others to handle. You, however, have more pressing duties.”

The soldiers begin to fall into formation again, a steady rhythm of hooves clopping along the dirt road as the procession leaves Harrenhal behind. You can still hear the faint shouts from the fortress, the echo of alarm and disorder chasing you as you journey farther from its walls.

Tywin’s voice breaks through your thoughts once more, his tone steady and composed. “The capital awaits us, and so does the realm,” he says, his gaze never straying from the horizon. “It is time you understand the gravity of your position, Lady Y/N.”

You hold his gaze, feeling the weight of his words settle over you. “My position… which you’ve so generously appointed for me.”

His eyes narrow slightly, a flicker of impatience crossing his face. “Do not mistake my intentions. You stand to gain more than you might think from this union.”

You take a breath, steadying yourself, feeling the urge to push back even as you maintain a respectful tone. “And yet, Lord Tywin, I have been given no voice in my own future. A fine arrangement, indeed.”

He chuckles softly, though there’s no warmth in it. “You’ll learn, Lady Y/N, that in matters of power, choices are luxuries few can afford. Those who wield influence know better than to waste time on sentiment.”

You glance away, suppressing the simmering frustration that bubbles up at his words. You know he’s a master of control, a man who carves the world to fit his desires, but there’s a part of you that can’t help but resent how neatly he’s boxed you into his plans.

As you ride in silence, Tywin’s gaze flicks over the guards positioned around you, as if assessing each one. His attention returns to you, his tone softening slightly, though it’s no less firm. “This alliance has the potential to shape the future of the Seven Kingdoms. You would do well to embrace it rather than resist it.”

You allow a faint smile to play on your lips, though it’s laced with irony. “To shape the future or merely to secure your legacy?”

Tywin’s expression remains impassive, though a glint of something dangerous flickers in his eyes. “Those are one and the same, my lady. Remember that.”

The procession pushes onward, the clamor of Harrenhal fading further with each step. Your gaze drifts once more to the rear, but Tywin’s voice brings you back, cutting into your reverie.

“The capital is not as forgiving as the North,” he says, a subtle warning in his tone. “You’ll find King’s Landing to be a place of ambition, a place where weaknesses are exploited.”

You meet his gaze squarely. “I am aware and remember my home, Lord Tywin. But ambition flows both ways. And weakness? It’s something we all possess… even if some hide it better than others.”

Tywin’s eyes glint with a mixture of surprise and amusement, though he masks it quickly. “Perhaps I underestimated you,” he murmurs, almost to himself. “Good. Keep that insight sharp, and you may find yourself better suited to this new role than you think.”

He clicks his tongue, urging his horse to pick up pace, and you follow suit, feeling the steadiness of your mare beneath you as you ride onward, the path to King’s Landing stretching ahead like an unbroken thread of destiny.

The Red Keep echoed with activity, each corridor and chamber a hive of workers, attendants, and guards bustling about with the urgency of an approaching storm. Tyrion stood in the center of it all, overseeing the final touches with a wry smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. The arrangements had been a near Azor Ahai task—upgrading chambers, overseeing decorations, and briefing the servants on the protocol for their esteemed guests’ arrival. But the task itself amused him, if only for the irony: preparing the capital to welcome his father’s intended bride, a Targaryen no less, into the heart of Lannister power.

He turned to one of the attendants, nodding approvingly as they carried tapestries embroidered with crimson and gold sigils toward the hall Tywin and Lady Y/N would share. A fitting touch, he thought, the Lannister colors serving as a subtle reminder of the dominance Tywin was so intent on establishing.

Just as he began reviewing the arrangement of flowers chosen for the hall—delicate black pearl lilies interspersed with blood red roses, a sly nod to the Targaryen colors—he heard the familiar, impatient click of heels. He didn’t need to look up to know who it was.

“Tyrion,” Cersei’s voice cut through the din, a simmering irritation woven through each syllable. “I’d heard you were going to absurd lengths for this farce of a wedding, but I didn’t expect it to be quite so… ostentatious.”

Tyrion glanced up, meeting her gaze with a barely concealed smirk. “Ah, dear sister. Just in time to enjoy the fruits of my labor,” he said, sweeping a hand toward the arrangements as if unveiling a masterpiece.

Cersei’s gaze flickered over the decor with a cold, disdainful glance, her lip curling slightly. “Is all this truly necessary? Or is your enthusiasm merely an attempt to irritate me?”

Tyrion chuckled, feigning innocence. “Why, I’m only fulfilling Father’s wishes, Cersei. Preparing the capital to welcome his bride—a Targaryen princess—isn’t an everyday affair. It wouldn’t do to skimp on the details. You know how particular he is.”

Cersei’s eyes narrowed, her gaze cold as she surveyed the preparations. “Of course he’s particular. But he’s outdone himself this time, don’t you think? Marrying into a family we’ve spent years stamping out.”

Tyrion shrugged, though his smile didn’t waver. “Yes, curious, isn’t it? But perhaps that’s part of his charm, taking what others would consider impossible and bending it to his will. Who would’ve thought the Lannisters would align themselves with Targaryen blood?” He paused, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Imagine the scandal. Why, I almost pity the gossipers who’ll wear out their voices on this alone.”

Cersei’s mouth pressed into a tight line, her eyes flashing with a fury she barely managed to contain. “You may find it amusing, Tyrion, but this marriage is an insult to our mother’s memory. Father intends to bring that woman here, to stand beside him, to flaunt her as though she belongs in our house.”

“Ah, but that’s just it,” Tyrion replied, his tone maddeningly reasonable. “In his mind, she will belong. That’s the entire point of this… arrangement, after all. To secure his bloodline, to unite what little remains of the Targaryen line under the Lannister name. A strategic move, really, if you consider the long term.”

Cersei’s jaw tightened, her fingers clenching around the fabric of her gown as she glared at him. “You talk about strategy as if you admire him for it. Are you so blind to see what this does to us? What it does to our family?”

Tyrion tilted his head, studying her with a hint of curiosity. “Cersei, you speak as though this wedding threatens our very existence. You’ll still be the Queen Regent, and our father will still be Tywin Lannister. Only now, we’ll have an intriguing new family member to add to our collection.”

Cersei scoffed, her eyes flashing with contempt. “Spare me the jest, Tyrion. This is not a game. That woman will never be one of us.”

“Oh, I don’t think anyone expects her to be, least of all her,” Tyrion replied, his tone more serious now, his gaze flicking toward the elaborate arrangements adorning the hall. “But she may prove… useful. And as long as Father sees value in her, well, I suppose that’s all that matters, isn’t it?”

Cersei’s gaze darkened, and she took a step closer to him, her voice a low, seething whisper. “You may revel in this, but I know what this means. She’ll be under our roof, under our watch. And she’ll know exactly how unwanted she is.”

Tyrion met her stare, unfazed. “Oh, I have no doubt you’ll make that very clear, sister.” He leaned in, lowering his voice. “But do be careful. Lady Y/N has lived through the North; she may prove less easy to unsettle than you imagine.”

Cersei sneered, her eyes narrowing. “Let her try to be strong. She’ll find King’s Landing a far cry from the North.”

Tyrion’s smile returned, his tone softening as he took in the hall, now nearly complete in its splendor. “Perhaps. But a princess of Targaryen blood, bound to Tywin Lannister’s ambitions? I think she’s already proved more resilient than either of us realizes.”

Cersei stepped back, her mouth set in a tight, furious line as she cast one last disdainful look at the polished decorations. Without another word, she turned and swept down the corridor, her departure as cutting as her entrance.

Tyrion watched her go, her golden hair gleaming in the torchlight as she disappeared from view. He let out a sigh, raising a glass of wine in a solitary toast to the opulent chamber.

“To new family,” he murmured, bemused, as he sipped his wine. “And all the joys they’ll surely bring.”

The road to King’s Landing stretched long and unrelenting, a seemingly endless path that brought back memories you’d hoped to leave buried in the North. Every mile was a reminder, each bend and crest in the landscape bringing you closer to the place you’d once called home, the city that had molded your past. You’d grown up in the capital, spent years in its court, heard the whispers that echoed through its stone halls. And yet, as you rode alongside Tywin now, you felt like a stranger returning to a place that no longer belonged to you.

The procession had been as disciplined and relentless as Tywin himself, a carefully organized line of soldiers and banners, the crimson and gold of House Lannister stark against the rugged landscape. Tywin rode at the front, his posture straight and his expression as unreadable as always. His white warhorse moved with an unhurried power, each step a testament to Tywin’s control over everything around him, even the beast he commanded.

The journey had been physically exhausting, but Tywin’s men were used to long campaigns and hard travel, maintaining an unwavering pace that pushed onward, day after day. Rain had struck in the early days, cold and relentless, soaking you and the men through, but not a single complaint had been uttered. You rode through it, hands frozen around the reins, eyes fixed ahead, refusing to show weakness under Tywin’s gaze.

Now, as the land leveled out and the road began to turn familiar, you could almost feel the hum of King’s Landing pulsing in the distance, the city a living beast that lay just over the horizon. Tywin slowed his horse slightly, bringing it alongside yours, and though he was silent, you could sense him studying you, measuring you.

“Returning to familiar ground,” he remarked, his tone steady. “I imagine the capital holds a unique significance for you.”

You kept your expression neutral, but memories washed over you, the echo of the capital’s courts and the faces of courtiers who had watched your every move. “Yes,” you replied, your voice steady. “It was my home for most of my life. But much has changed since I was last there.”

He inclined his head, a flicker of acknowledgment in his gaze. “Perhaps. But you know its halls, its players, better than any stranger would. That familiarity is an asset if wielded wisely.”

You met his gaze, a glint of defiance in your eyes. “I understand how the game is played, Lord Tywin. I spent twenty years in that court.”

Tywin’s eyes narrowed slightly, his voice sharpening. “Understanding is one thing, Lady Y/N. Mastering it is another. You’ll find King’s Landing has little patience for those who lack control over both their allies and their enemies.”

You held his gaze, refusing to let him see the unease stirring within you. “I assure you, I’m no stranger to control,” you replied. “Nor to the ambitions of those who play this game.”

Tywin’s mouth quirked slightly, an almost-smile that never reached his eyes. “Then perhaps you may find this arrangement less… daunting than I anticipated. Good.”

The soldiers behind you kept their formation, their faces steeled in disciplined silence. Occasionally, one of Tywin’s scouts would ride ahead to check the road, returning with brief reports that Tywin would absorb with a simple nod before sending them back out. He had every detail of the journey arranged, every step accounted for, leaving no space for error. It was clear that Tywin intended for this arrival to be as meticulously controlled as everything else he commanded.

On the third night of the journey, you’d camped by a creek, and Tywin had spoken briefly with Kevan Lannister by the fire. Their voices were low, words of strategy and calculation drifting through the camp. You’d caught fragments, mentions of alliances, of how best to introduce you at court, but neither had paid you any mind, their intentions clear without needing to say them outright. To Tywin, you were another piece on his board, a figure to be shaped and deployed where it best suited his goals.

As the procession rode closer to King’s Landing, the road began to grow more crowded, dotted with traders and farmers, travelers moving in and out of the capital with goods and supplies. Some stared, murmuring as the Lannister banners passed, their eyes lingering on you, curiosity flickering in their gaze. You were aware of the image you presented, a Targaryen brought into the Lannister fold, an alliance that defied the expectations of those who had witnessed the Rebellion’s devastation.

Tywin caught one such gaze, and his expression tightened, his voice dropping as he addressed you, a note of warning lacing his words. “When we reach the capital, remember that every eye will be on you. They’ll look for weakness, for any hint of hesitation.”

You lifted your chin, unyielding. “I know what to expect from King’s Landing, Lord Tywin. I was raised in its halls, surrounded by its ambitions. I’m well aware of how to handle such scrutiny.”

A faint glimmer of approval flickered in his gaze. “Then you’ll understand the importance of alliances and the strength they demand. Make no mistake, Lady Y/N—you’ll have a part to play, one that requires both subtlety and strength.”

You didn’t reply, letting his words settle over you, a quiet reminder of the reality that awaited. The capital would be no gentle homecoming. Whatever past you’d left behind was now layered with Tywin’s expectations, his plans woven around you like a net.

As the sun began to set lower, you spotted the faint outline of the city’s gates on the horizon. A chill ran through you, both familiar and foreign, a reminder that the city you knew held dangers and expectations that would be no easier to confront than the North’s harshest winters.

Tywin glanced at you one final time, his eyes assessing, as if searching for any sign of hesitation. “Remember,” he said, his voice steady, “loyalty is everything. As long as you keep to that, you may find your place here… productive.”

You met his gaze with a calm, unwavering look. “I intend to.”

With that, the procession continued forward, the city gates drawing nearer with every step. The familiar hum of King’s Landing waited just beyond, a reminder of both who you had been and the role Tywin had crafted for you.