#Practical plaits I know that's right

[stsgluver]

synopsis. your husband still ignores the side effects of his cursed technique just so he can get a glimpse of you.

wc. 1.2k

gojo satoru was born with six eyes — a special cursed technique that allowed for an extremely precise manipulation of cursed energy, down to an atomic level. it also blessed him with a beautiful pair of ocean blue eyes that were practically glowing. you’d never seen eyes so pretty.

the drawback to this gift? the skull-splitting migraines that came with the excessive information constantly being processed by his darting eyes.

as a child, the pain was manageable. gojo didn’t have much of a hold on the technique so his weaker state meant that the migraines were subdued as less information was being absorbed. however, as he grew older and more powerful, he would find himself bed ridden for at least twenty four hours if he did not take some sort of measure to protect his eyes.

his go to method was the sunglasses, almost 100% tinted — no other person would be able to clearly see out of them, if they could see anything at all. his sight, on the other hand, so impressive that he could distinguish people and the objects around them through the levels of cursed energy radiated.

still, accidents happened. whether it be him breaking his glasses, or forgetting them as young children do, he quickly learned the drawbacks to his technique. no normal medicine could relieve the pain and no sorcerer was strong enough to either.

gojo satoru met you at fifteen years old on his first day at tokyo jujutsu high. you wore a uniform similar to shoko's but your skirt was closer to the floor than it was to your thigh. your hair was longer than most female sorcerers and tied into a plait that hung against your back. in all honesty, you appeared quite plain to him. nothing particularly stood out. not even your cursed energy was particularly strong.

but you were gorgeous. completely and utterly gorgeous. his glasses slipped slightly down his nose as he analysed you from afar and it wasn't till a slap on the shoulder from geto that he snapped out of it.

within six months of knowing one another, the two of you were dating. you picked up on his habit to forgo his glasses around you pretty quickly and you definitely didn't miss the increasing amount of discomfort that would cause him.

"why do you do that?" you asked him one time.

the two of you were on a date in the park. a picnic blanket had been laid out and satoru had bought basically every single pastry and sweet at the bakery next to the park. you'd barely managed to make it through half till the both of you had given up and opted for cloud watching, giggling as he joked that one cloud in particularly looked very similar to nanami's 'emo' haircut.

satoru turned to his side to look at you questioningly, his head resting on his hand, "do what?"

"take off your glasses," you gestured to the folded pair of black glasses by his head. "i don't have to be a doctor to realise that you're in a lot of pain right now." the longer you lay there, the less satoru was actually looking up at the sky, instead just listening to you as you pointed out shapes and animals.

you knew the toll six eyes could take on his body.

he kept his eyes screwed shut when he wasn't looking at you to ease the the pain from the intense light that was too overpowering for his splitting headache. he winced when a kid screamed too loudly or ran too close and his fingers would push against the sides of his head frustratedly. as if he thought hard enough, the pain would just go away.

his lips tilted up into a lopsided grin, "but i see you."

you twisted so that your body was parallel to his. there was a faint blush on your cheeks now but you didn't look away from his eyes. how could you? "you always see me."

"not with those stupid glasses," satoru frowned, and you think it was the most serious you had seen him since you met. "seeing you and seeing your energy are two very different things."

"you're hurting yourself," you pointed out, placing one of your hands onto his cheek to gently stroke your thumb against his skin. his shoulders relaxed slightly and he leant into your touch like it was magic. like you were some drug that numbed the pain, replacing it with a special serotonin only you could give him.

"worth it." satoru kissed your palm.

that was his only response. worth it. and he stuck to it even a decade later.

"old habits die hard, i guess," satoru tried to laugh at his poorly made joke, but only a few shakey breaths came out. you'd been home thirty minutes and he'd already been sick twice. he'd curled himself up in your shared bed not long after the second time and that was where he was when you began scolding him for his carelessness.

"you are twenty eight," you rant exasperatedly, juxtaposing your voice that is no louder than a gentle whisper, "you have three first years to be looking after right now, but no, someone wanted to go out for dinner and someone didn't want to wear their glasses, and someone-"

satoru's much larger hand squeezed yours, "don't be cruel. i do this for you, my love." his blindfold was now on (you had made him put it on as soon as you had gotten home) but you know him well enough to know he was staring up at you with those lovesick eyes that made you weak at the knees.

"i just worry," your tone eased. you had no issue looking after your husband, you never had. it wasn't his fault that he got the migraines per se. yes, he could definitely be doing more to mitigate the severity, but he was stubborn. that had never changed. "i've seen you fight special grades. i hate seeing a stupid headache hurt you so much."

"lay with me."

"you're sweaty and sick." you scrunched up your nose, eyes flicking to the en suite you'd just cleaned and back to the cold flannel on his forehead as his body temperature fluctuated.

he shook his head, placing his index finger over his lips. "shhh, i'm passed that stage. pretty please? i need you."

gojo satoru was irresponsible at the best of times. he'd been raised to believe he was invincible and had been spoiled to always get what he had wanted. there was no telling him what to do when he'd already decided an hour ago exactly what he wanted to do.

but there was something about being needed by gojo satoru. you could never say no to him. so whether it be due to his own decision to stare into the eyes of his wife during a romantic night out, or an extensive fight against a cursed spirit, you would always be there to clean up and make sure he was wrapped up in bed all cosy.

and you would always lift up the covers and climb in once there was no more that you could do but simply act as a pillow for your husband as he tried to sleep off the throbbing pain.

a/n. um so my previous post on this topic blew up and i’m so so grateful so i thought i’d expand a little on this hc for anyone that was interested. rambled a bit towards the end but i hope you still like it!! love you lots xxx

[fluorynn]

🔷 — 𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐨𝐫 | 𝐧. 𝐬𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲 ( one-shot )

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : Aged up!tattooed!Neteyam ✗ fem!human!reader

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 / 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 : AGED UP!NETEYAM — don’t like it? Please don’t read! implied!smut, spanking, teasing, heavy touching, tattooed!Neteyam being obsessed with reader’s tits, implied sex on the beach—Neteyam just loving on reader’s body, no mention of exomask, guys shsjdkdkdk—

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 1.5k+

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 : @bambithewriter @rivatar @jioohyo @property-of-neteyam @pandoraslxna @xstarsdiary @xylianasblog

author’s note : neteyam with tattoos. The vision, THE VISION GUYS. Lemme know what you think😭😭

“You see now, narlor ( beautiful ), these right here—” The pair of tattooed hands which belonged to Neteyam had skidded from your bare waist to the scarcely clothed plumpness of your breasts, the perkiness of your nipples. Hands which held a great convenience in engulfing entirely, slender digits practically entwining around the expanse of your back from how much smaller you were than him, his palms delicately kneading the soft flesh. “These lovely girls brighten my day. If I am upset, they commit to making me content. If I am stressed, they relieve me. They relieve me far better than anything else on Pandora.”

While your current sitting position upon his tsurak made it much easier for you to meet him at an eye-level as he was within the water, the pressure of his touch accompanied by the hefty weight of his elongated frame leaning forward pushed you further against the squirming tsurak.

“Teyam, baby,” The pair of dainty hands which belonged to you splayed over his ink etched shoulders to keep him from leaning forward. Hands which held purposeless strength when it came to be compared to Neteyam — or any other Na’vi for that matter. A giggle bubbled from your throat from the way that your ridiculously tall lover’s accent emphasized his words spoken in English while his affections dawdled every inch of you. “You play too much, you know that? I mean, you can’t be serious.”

“Uh, yes I certainly am fucking serious.” The edges of his mouth twisted downwards, a form of a crease upon his striped forehead. “I adore every part of you, tìyawn. From those pretty eyes and pretty smile, that soft belly and thighs that are so plushy and drive me insane,” The extent of his tail wreathed around your thigh, its length nearly taking up the entire limb. “And do you want to know something else, hmm? Just by receiving a look from you after a long day of training, swimming and patrolling makes me so content…but when I get the opportunity to do more than just look at you, and I get to touch you,'' His head canted back, the subtle clink of his plaits accompanying the groan that breathed into the star-filled sky, and the desperate sound was nearly enough to make a whimper drawl out of you. “Great Mother, words can’t describe that amazing opportunity.”

Your bottom lip curled between your teeth, gnawing the supple flesh at the flawless sight you had of the pillar of his throat; the vivid twinkles of Neteyam’s freckles clashing beautifully with the velvet blues of his skin beneath the night’s glow. The honed structure of his jawline contrasted beneath the beads of necklaces and tattooed art you had taken a passionate liking to.

His kuru was still entangled in the bond with his tsurak, mind giving a command to gently swim you to the coastline of Awa’atlu. While Neteyam followed along, that does not mean he paused the leisurely journey his touch made around your body; brushing from the outer curves of your breasts, finger pads grazing below your ribcage to encircle around your waist before a brim of some sort of curiosity crossed his features. His hands then deftly slid beneath you, and forgotten was the tsurak the moment the shore came to view.

“And this? This perfect ass of yours is so damn good for me, my love.”

The sharpness of his large palm colliding with the meat of your ass reverberated through Pandora’s atmosphere followed by your yelp of a stunned ‘hey!’. Stunned from both the vulgarity of his tongue and the outburst of his actions.

“Forgive me, narlor.” He chuckled endearingly, not resisting the urge to smack your ass once, then twice, applying almost all of his strength to the pressure which sent a wave of scorching heat across your neutral toned skin. You reached for him, planting your hands over his damp chest, the density of your lashes fluttering down as gleaming incisors scraped over the flushed apple of your cheek, softly biting down in a teasing manner until wisps of giggles flew from you.

“Yeah, that is the best of the best right there, is it not?” He mused, ear flitting near your jaw emphasizing his content. One arm now fully enclosed around your midsection, your forearms resting upon his shoulders while he made his way out the water which was halfway up his torso. He didn’t need to see to know which way he was going though. While he was entranced in the pretty depths of your eyes and let his forehead hover over yours, he was certain where he went.

“Well then, I believe I’m glad I could be of use to the mighty warrior.” you replied, the breathless and amusement of your voice bestowing how much you reveled in his act as one of your hands delicately soothed over your sore cheek. The other admiringly traced over the tattoos encircling his bicep, twisting and turning up across his defined collarbone and skimming up his neck, cheek, and temple, telling a story no other human would understand but you. Fingertips fiddled over the adorable flickers of his high perched wars, and soon threaded into the cascade of his dark braids.

He perhaps was not the only one completely enamored with every detail of his lover. But could you really be blamed? Every part of Neteyam was beyond captivating.

“Irayo ( thank you ).” Sharp incisors collided with the brilliance of his smile, squeezing his hold around you. In one smooth motion within the water, thanks to his inhuman strength, he hoisted you a bit higher so your legs now wrapped beneath his arms, chest now flushed against the length of his broad one, feeling the muscle’s tight coils, the immense heat he radiated despite being in the cool water.

You chewed your lip at how his large hand pushed into the small arch of your back, the subtle swirls of his tail due to excitement because of such proximity stirring you within.

Neteyam acknowledged how much you enjoyed being manhandled by him and him only — whether it be gently or unruly — and he never wasted any chance given to take action on it and witness the vulnerability you gained when he did, making the most of it in his time spent with you.

Long fingers glide up your throat, long enough to engulf the entire base, the index one curling around your jaw. His thumb gently pushed your chin up and slanting your head slightly up until you were met with the warrior’s resplendent irises.

“Yet do you know what, who else is the cause of my content?” He inquired, raking his (appealing) tongue over his lower lip.

The simple act had your thighs clench hard around him, a throbbing pulse flaring to existence between.

“N-no..” Lies. It was more than obvious by the feign of innocence glazing those pretty doe-like eyes.

His own eyes, gleaming and fierce, called out to you. Silent to others, yet soaring for your soul. His senses more than feel the spasms of heat from your every fiber, every curve. He released his hold on your face, both hands now enveloping your ass.

“You are certain of this, yawntutsyìp?”

“U-uh huh, yeah…” anticipation swelled in your chest as you shakily exhaled, mentally cursing for not having anything to physically support yourself other than Neteyam’s grand body. By now, his feet were already amongst the sand and you’re still being held up by him.

Without taking his sharp gaze off you, he slowly, so very slowly started to descend down to his knees in the middle of the beach. Though with his descent brought the ascent of your body, the intoxicating scent of your essence being inhaled by his flaring nose while your legs dangling over his shoulders. You could have been afraid, yet the trust felt for him and arousal growing outweighed that fear, and instead you let him do whatever it was he pleased.

He knew this from the mischief that struck his features as your back subtly met the damp sand, as you shuffled until you were propped on your elbows to look down at him and his large body slithered down, gazing up at you with love and lust.

He traced the abstaining desire on your face, thrill surging through the warrior. His face nestled against your tummy while nimble digits undid the twines of your own tewng, his nose and puckered lips feathering over the bare skin of your thighs while his hands slid lower and lower…

Eyes fell to the between your slightly parted legs, taking in the glistening appeal, and a soft smirk twisted his lips up. “May I show you just how much she makes me content?”

“I-if that’s what you wanna do…” Even you could not fall for your poor attempt at the facade of nonchalance.

His smirk spiraled, two fingers brushing down said curve between your thigh and hip bone before dipping down to your pussy the very exact time a wave came crashing along the shoreline, and if it weren’t for the shielding of his body you may have been caught in it. But somehow, the harsh sensations given from the ocean deliciously twisted something in your stomach when it came upon Neteyam’s silhouette, in a trance at the predator-like swivels of his tail.

He grinned widely against you, “Narlor, what I am about to do to you and my girl is going to make us very, very content…”

[cross-d-a]

something something about Caleb Dume surviving the genocide of his people and divorcing himself from his culture and remaking himself entirely in order to survive

and something something about orphaned Ezra Bridger who loves Lothal but doesn’t quite belong being adopted into a self-made-cobbled-together family of outcasts from multiple cultures

and something something about Kanan choosing to embrace his culture and religion again despite his fear and the risk it brings to him and his family

and something something about Ezra embracing that culture as whole-heartedly as he can when so much of it has been lost

and something something about both of being denied the ability to practice certain aspects of their religion because otherwise they might be killed for it

and something something about Kanan remembering how Master Billaba carefully sheared his hair and oh so reverently plaited his Padawan braid and held it gently between her fingertips and told him she would do right by him and told him not to be afraid and told him she would be there for him until her dying breath and beyond and told him that he was going to be a great Jedi Knight one day and told him “you are our future youngling and I will do everything in my power to protect that future”

and something something about Kanan looking at Ezra’s wild hair with something hollow and aching tucked between his ribs because he longs to show Ezra the devotion his Master showed him and her Master showed before her and his Master before him but it’s not safe to gently plait that Padawan braid behind Ezra’s ear because such a sign of devotion will mean death and Kanan can only hope that Ezra understands how much Kanan loves him and how much Kanan is proud of him and how much hope and life he sees in his Padawan because while that Padawan braid may be the physical link between future and past tying together generations of Masters and Padawans who have lived and loved and passed on because “we are what they grow beyond”—

Kanan knows that every moment has led to this and Ezra is the future his Master and her Master before her never expected but they would be so proud to see Ezra now and Kanan can only hope Ezra knows how proud Kanan is of him too and know when he looks at Ezra he knows everything is going to be okay because “we are what they grow beyond” and despite everything that’s been lost to them Ezra is carrying the heart and soul of thousands of years of legacy and Kanan looks at Ezra knowing he can’t give him that Padawan braid but he’ll be damned if he can’t teach him the things that matter and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t do everything to protect the future he sees in Ezra’s eyes

[kokushibitch]

my dmmd au where mink is actually a brown guy instead of being vaguely yellow and grey. left edit is just a skintone edit while the right contains more natural looking feathers. i also gave him a stronger face

i spent a while trying to pinpoint his nation. unfortunately his design contradicted itself a bit and the slapping of random feathers and dreamcatchers everywhere pisses me awf. i wish that the artists had chosen to stick with one specific nation, and the closer i looked it actually wasn't as bad as i initially thought, but there were still some pretty egregious errors made with his design that could be avoided with CURSORY research, and for a company like n+c, big as they are with the resources to do better research, is unacceptable. to be quite honest, i almost hesitate to even make this post because i really don't want people to run with the information ill be discussing. while i am a native dude that enjoys DMMD, i know so many others that dislike mink, his design, and story because he falls into quite a few racist tropes. also, just because i can kind of glean some information about mink's culture based on his character design/home design, does not mean that it's a 100% accurate portrayal of said culture.

TL;DR: i used to think he was supposed to be ojibwe, but upon further inspection i headcanon mink as navajo/dine and afronative, my reasoning below the cut. im gonna make a later post discussing the nuances of his route and the meta racism in DMMD cause its been a loooooooong time since ive played his route. while im not navajo myself (im tsalagi) i at least have the life experience to tell the goddamn difference between nations lol. i also love the inclusion of a rainbow in his design as a fellow indigenous rainbow enjoyer

note: dine and navajo are the same thing, but im gonna use navajo because thats what more people are familiar with.

the easiest way to start would be with his most obviously unique feature, his locced hair. loccing among NA nations wasn't super common, but it did happen due to the culture & rituals around hair (no cutting unless under specific circumstances, braids/plaits end up "locced" from saltwater, etc etc). to me, however, his locced hair didn't feel like a purposeful design choice. meaning, i dont think the artist chose the locced hair because they wanted to convey something traditional about mink's culture, i think they chose it just because it looks cool, or because mink kind of just falls into the "vaguely brown" category. i'd also be okay with interpreting him as black/native, which i think im gonna do because i know that there are (or was, dead fandom) plenty of black dmmd fans that identify with him

his second most unique cultural indicator is his dreamcatcher. unfortunately, dreamcatchers have kind fallen into that "vague native design" bullshit, but they do have a tribal origin: aanishinabe. again though, due to the sheer abundance of people slapping dreamcatchers onto vaguely native characters, i cant say that this is a strong enough point for me to say definitively that he's aanishinabe. also, you dont fuckin wear dreamcatchers. end of, they're not supposed to be on your body.

THEN there are even more important indicators to me that denote exactly which nation he's from.

just judging base on the patterns used on his traditional tapestries, blankets, and runners, would denote some sort of southwestern nation. now they're not accurate designs necessarily, but i can understand and see clearly where they took inspiration from.

the peace pipe on the wall in both his home and his hideout immediately indicate navajo, a southwestern nation. the fact that he has a strong religious orientation to smoking herbs (im assuming in place of tobacco) is also very navajo to me. the pottery in his home & hideout are also very strongly southwestern, as pottery was a very common art in the southwest. the fact that he has an altar at all is unique because altars are actually not common practice and are usually only found in the southwest, which is actually a good detail point whether it was intentional or not. ignore the dreamcatchers which were, again, thrown in randomly

and of course his homeland contains mountains and more importantly, cliffs and canyons which is another southwest feature. there's also his fuckass cowboy boots which are VERY southwestern

IGNORING the dreamcatcher in his hair AGAIN, he's also flexin beaded jewelry. to me, these are just like regular beads, but you could interpret them as turquoise if you wanted. traditional turquoise jewelry is usually inlayed onto silver bands or pieces as well as strung together like so. his white belt also contains a very southwestern design.

as much as some elements of his design annoy the fuck out of me, i love, love, love, love the inclusion of the rainbow in mink's character design. the rainbow is so important to so many different nations, and mink being a religious person, it actually makes a lot of sense for him to have this sort of draw to rainbows or rainbow colored items. specifically in navajo culture, rainbows are used as Bridges between The Navajo and The Holy People, basically communicating with a higher power. a rainbow is also a symbol of the 7 sacred rituals in navajo culture, one color per ritual. here's a youtube video about it, learn something

i do have some thoughts on mink de-loccing his hair in his good ending, but i think i will have to save that for another post further down the line

anways, ive made my case. mink is navajo

[gor3-hound]

sunflower

ft. chris redfield x fem!reader

cw: 18+ content, fluff, ddlg, use of princess parts(sorry) oral(f!recieving), mating press, really sweet chris tbh, pacifier usage, non-sexual intimacy also included, hand holding during sex, p in v, creampie, squirting, multiple orgasms(reader)

a/n: more ddlg w chris... he's so perfect for it sorry... same universe as 'sweet girl' but a complete standalone. ddlg always scares me to write sksjsksjs but hope you all like it <3 feedback appreciated as always :3

word count: 1.6k words

Chris can feel the stress radiating from your body as soon as you walk into the home. He hears you drop the car keys haphazardly on the table. He walks out of his office just as you're hanging your coat up, brows furrowed in frustration with your jaw clenched.

You always got like this after visiting your dad. Chris isn't even allowed to come with you anymore after the last time. He came close to breaking the asshole's nose after he made you cry. He didn't even know why you still put up with him after everything he's done to you, but you always tell Chris ‘family is family’, and he doesn't want to push you.

He'd always be there for you when you got back, anyway. He walks up to you slowly, pulling you into his arms. He can feel the tension in your body, and it makes him frown. He tilts your head up to look at him, his thumb gently rubbing at the crease between your brows until it softens and you're looking up at him with those bright eyes he loves so much.

“There's my baby.” He coos, leaning down to plant kisses all over your face with a smile. He combs his fingers through your hair, carefully untangling a few knots that formed. He finds himself smiling even wider when you finally start to relax in his arms, rubbing your cheek against his chest sweetly.

“Daddy…” You breathe out, hugging him tight. His large hand runs down your back, stopping before rubbing small circles right above your ass. He hums softly, kissing the crown of your head. He knew you needed this when you got like this. Needed him.

“It's okay, baby. Daddy's got you. Let me take care of you, yeah?” He whispers, his breath tickling your hairline as he leans down slightly to be more on your level.

He runs a bath for you, peeling the clothes off of your body slowly. He even puts in your favourite glittery pink bath bomb, despite it being a pain in the ass to clean up. He'd be scrubbing the discolouration off the tub for weeks, and by then, you'd have used it again. An endless cycle, but one he'd endure for as long as he lived if it was for you. He picks you up and sets you in, massaging soap into your body as you sit in the warm water. You melt under his touches, practically purring like a little kitten.

He's careful not to get your hair wet as he washes you, being as gentle as he can. He dries you off with the fluffiest towel in the cabinet and slips you into the comfiest pyjamas you own.  He ends up setting you between his legs in the bedroom with your pacifier in your mouth and hair supplies in his hand, the TV playing Tangled for the fourth time this week. 

It's Wednesday.

He genuinely thinks he might have to get a lobotomy if he hopes to ever get ‘I Have A Dream’ out of his head. He's more than ashamed to admit he's been humming it between sets at the gym. Oh, well. A small price to pay for your happiness.

He cares for your hair as you focus on the movie, detangling any knots gently, just as you’ve taught him to do before. He tries his best to part your hair into two sections, but it ends up being a little messy. At least he learned how to braid. He was quite proud of himself for that one. It only took a dozen YouTube tutorials to figure it out. He carefully twists your hair into two plaits, kissing the nape of your neck once he's done.

“You're so cute, princess.” He coos, his big hands coming to rest on your waist so he can tug you into his lap. He runs his hands under your shirt, gently caressing the skin of your stomach. “I could just eat you up.”

He runs his stubble against your neck, feeling warmth flood his chest as you start to squirm and giggle, teeth clinging onto your pacifier to keep it in place. He laughs softly at the sight, nipping the side of your neck playfully before picking you up, lying you down on your back in the bed. He raises your shirt up, dipping his head down to your stomach.

“Maybe I should. You look so sweet.” He teases, planting kisses all over your soft stomach as you wriggle underneath him. Your paci slips from your mouth as you laugh, your hands coming down to try and push him away by his head. 

“Daddy, you can't eat me!” You say between giggles, kicking your feet out slightly. He doesn't relent, blowing raspberries against your tummy, making you squeal. “You're so silly.”

“Oh, but I can.” He says, grinning against your soft skin. His head trails lower, nudging your clit through the fabric of your pyjama shorts, peeking up at your face as he hears a soft gasp coming from you. “In fact, I thought you liked when daddy did that.”

You don't really get a chance to reply, ‘cause he's grabbing your discarded pacifier and slotting it into your mouth, tapping your hips twice in a gesture that you've come to understand means up.

He slips your shorts and panties off in one motion, his eyes locked onto the sticky string of arousal that connects the gusset of your panties to your pretty cunt as he peels them off. He shudders as he chucks then to the side, his big hands grabbing the fat of your thighs to spread your legs. He dives in, pressing a kiss to the hood of your clit. He chuckles as you whine, the vibrations sending jolts of pleasure up your spine.

“You like it when daddy kisses your princess parts, baby?” His tone is sickly sweet as he speaks just before diving in, tonguing into your entrance to gather up the slick pooling there. All you can do is nod dumbly, biting down on the pacifier in your mouth as you moan around it, your noises muffled by the plastic.

He only ever pauses in fucking you with his tongue to shower you with kisses and praise, talking about how pretty you are as he presses his lips against your tummy and the inside of your thighs. He coos at you and squeezes your hips in his hands, making sure to show you how much he loves you.

He laps eagerly at your release when you finally tense up and come, relishing in the sweet taste that coats his tongue, lips and stubble. He just pulls back and grins, wiping it off with the bottom of his shirt before tugging it up entirely.

Your gaze is locked onto him as he strips, the pacifier in your mouth bobbing as you suck on it. You wriggle slightly on the bed, propping yourself up against the plush pillows so you can watch as he prods at you before slowly sinking into you with a groan.

“You okay, sweetheart?” He says through gritted teeth, doing his best to stay still as your tight heat envelops him. “Not too sensitive?”

“M'good, daddy.” You slur around your paci, your brows furrowed slightly from the stretch of his fat cock. Your thighs are shaking slightly, but he trusts you're telling the truth. His little princess knows better than to lie to daddy.

“Good… good girl.” He hums, running a hand up your side, gripping your waist before he starts to move his hips, slowly fucking into you.  He moves his hands to the back of your knees, pulling your ass flush against his thighs before folding you in half, pressing your knees to your chest by leaning his weight down on you, your legs thrown over his shoulders.

“Fuuuuck.” He hisses, kissing the tip of your nose before pressing his forehead against yours, fucking deep into you with every thrust. He gets so deep like this - filling every inch of you up in a way that has you gasping and whining.

Your pacifier slips from your mouth and drops onto the bed again, one of your hands opening and closing in a grabbing motion. “Hand, daddy.”

His hand finds yours, locking your fingers together and giving it a little squeeze. He smiles softly, his thick length rutting into you as he presses you further into the mattress. He grunts as he feels your walls starting to clamp down on him, his breaths coming out in short pants.

“That's it, cutie. Cum for me.”

“Daddy!” You moan, back arching as your orgasm hits. You squirt all over him, bursts of sticky fluid covering his lower abdomen. It drips down his cock and coats his balls, soaking the sheets underneath you.

“Such a messy baby, huh?” He breathes out, his hips stuttering as you flutter around him, his grip on your hand tightening almost painfully. “Your pretty sheets are all ruined.”

He drops his head into the crook of your shoulder, panting as he bottoms out, shooting thick ropes of cum deep into your pussy. He can't bring himself to pull out, so he pulls you against his body and manoeuvres you so you're lying on top of him without ever leaving you.

“There we go. Such a good girl. My precious angel.” He whispers breathlessly, his chest heaving slightly from the intensity of the orgasm. He runs his hand up and down your back, petting you gently.

“I love you, princess.” He murmurs against the shell of your ear, kissing it lightly.

“Love you more, daddy.”

[theonottshluttt]

Good Job I Love You ~Theodore Nott

fem reader x theodore nott

warnings- pure smut not much plot, p in v, unprotected sex, mix of praise and degradation, swearing, 18+, fingering, slight orgasm denial.

just a little one shot for my favs!!

The music rages on as you glance around the room, getting looks from all directions as you sway your hips to the beat, red tight dress hiked right up to your hips. Members of the slytherin house gathered into their familiar common room, You look around, no Theo in sight, strange.

As the night goes on and more drinks are consumed, everything starts becoming hazy. “Theoooo” you slur out and wobble towards your friend, Lorenzo Berkshire. The brunette boy looks up at you, seeing the absolute state your in and knowing your looking for Theo.

“Y/N i’m calling Theo stay right there” His soft words manage to comfort you slightly, if it was anybody else you would have probably gone wondering off somewhere, not be believing that they were calling your boyfriend.

Theo arrives minutes later and runs up to you quickly. “Y/N baby are you okay??” His panicked tone evident. “I’m fine Theo i just missed you, i didn’t see you and i didn’t know where you were” You quickly ramble “i tried looking for you everywh-“ Suddenly your cut off by a chaste kiss to your lips. “It’s fine honey, don’t worry. Let’s get you to bed, okay?” God this man was perfect.

His lanky fingers attach to your waist, guiding you out of the noisy, sweat-filled room. Making your way up the stairs was a task and a half with your alcohol fizzled brain, but somehow you managed.

That was until you reached the moving stairs.

“Y/N baby please don’t mess around, it’s dangerous” He says, concern evident. You continue giggling and start drunkenly swaying around the edge of the stairs when he grabs you back.

“Your not funny. I’m serious, you could get hurt and we don’t want that do we Y/N?” A roll of the eyes escapes you but Theo manages to catch a glimpse. “Don’t you roll your eyes at me miss Y/L/N!” He says in a mock-offended tone while the stairs shift again, guiding you up with patience. “Good job i love you” He sighs under his breath.

After managing to wobble up the stairs he leads you to his dorm and lays you gently on the bed. While your lying there he’s busy grabbing one of his tshirts and his blue plaid pajama bottoms for you to sleep in, while also managing to grab a pack of cotton pads and makeup remover.

“Okay princess Y/N, gonna take these off okay?” He gently rests his hand on your heels. “Thank you” You dazily smile up at him before completely knocking out cold asleep.

Theo smirks and shakes his head, boy was this man head over heels for this girl. He removes your shoes while also sliding your dress off, trying not to wake you.

Once he finally managed to get you out of your dress and into his clothes, he slowly removed your makeup, not really knowing what to do but all around putting in a good effort to do so. He then tied your hair back the messy plait he had been practicing on you for weeks, it wasn’t amazing but it would do.

Once the lights were off Theo led down next to you, tucking you in completely before wrapping his arms around you. “Sleep well beautiful.

The next morning Theo felt you stirring as he awoke. “Good night, huh?” He giggled. “Shut up!” You playfully whack his shoulder while laying on his chest. “Make me” This was enough for you and you began kissing his neck. Theo let out a stifled groan and shifted you to sit on his lap. Both of you scramble to get your clothes off and quickly things get hot and heavy..

Theo swiftly flipped you over onto your back as he loomed over you, his large member grinding against your sensitive heat. The intensity makes you shiver and The begins moving his hand from your erect nipple slowly further down until he reached your core. “Fuck- So wet for me already, really love?” He teased and began moving his fingers slowly in and out of you. “Feel good?” You couldn’t respond, panting and moaning, too dumbed out to talk. “I need words” He reached for your jaw and moved your head, making you look up at him. “Want me to stop?” He asks, clearly. “N-no” You manage to stutter out before returning to the moaning mess you previously were. He moves his hand faster and faster “Good girl”.

Soon enough you felt that familiar sensation burning in your core, squirming and bucking your hips your orgasm hits you like a brick and you come undone all over his fingers.

“Fuck Y/N your such a good girl for me” He lays a passionate kiss to your lips before slowly rubbing his throbbing member over your swollen clit. “This okay for you?” “Yes please hurry up Theo” you moan.

Soon, he pushes slowly inside for you moving faster and faster. “So tight for me, g’nna ruin this pussy so g’d” He continues his fierce pace, determined to make you come again.

Moments later your bucking your hips again and he knows your close, “Hold on for me ma, almost there” He speeds up and moves his legs to a new angle, hitting all the right spots as you come completely undone again, squirming and moaning all over his cock. Shortly after you he finished, pulling out and laying next to you.

“God can we do that every morning?” Theo says, birding into a fit of giggles.

[charlottes-diary-entries]

Hellllo! Could you possibly write a ploy! marauders x reader who just got a new piercing? Like maybe they keep accidentally hitting it and like to help clean it :))

"fresh wounds"

eeeee!! my first ask, thank you so much lovely! hope you enjoy <3

You yelped a little as Sirius brushed your hair back, before leaning forward to press a butterfly kiss to your ear, right above one of your brand new piercings.

“Sorry Dove, didn’t mean to snag it,”

“S’alright Sirius, I know.”

“Are you torturing my poor, healing darling?” James accused, squeezing your hand and he frowned from his place sat in front of you. Even if you couldn't see it, you could practically feel Sirius roll his eyes.

"They're fine, Prongs," he drawled, continuing his expert work of plaiting your hair, "A helix piercing isn't going to kill 'em."

James's frown only deepened before he pressed his forehead against yours, whispering conspiratorially, "You'll tell me if he's being too rough. Just 'cause he's got a million piercings and twice as many infections, doesn't mean you have to as well."

You giggled, whispering a quiet, "I will," as Sirius scowled.

"I heard that, you prick. I'll have you know, only one of my piercings has been infected-"

At this James gasped, pulling you fully away from Sirius and into his arms, staring at him in scandal. "So, you ARE diseased! You're going to ruin their healing process-"

"No, I'm not, you idiot-"

"Yes, you are-"

"Alright, leave it you two."

You giggled as Remus pulled you to your feet while simultaneously ending the boys' playful spat. He tucked a few loose pieces of hair behind your ears, inspecting the tops which were now adorned with little silver balls. He hummed, stroking his thumbs across your cheekbones as he held your face.

"Do they hurt, Dove?"

"Not more than normal," You smiled, melting into his warm presence, "They'll be fully healed soon enough."

"That's good. They look a little red, maybe we should clean them before we leave?"

"I helped them clean them before I did their hair," Sirius replied, standing as well to snag an arm around your waist and press yet another kiss to your ear. "Saline and all, no need to worry. Not to mention they won't stop twisting 'em."

Remus relaxed and smiled at you, softly saying, "That's alright then."

This in turn made you grin and flush slightly, going to tuck your hair behind your ear again. However, you winced as you caught the piercing, cupping your ear and hissing at the rush of pain. This made James shoot to his feet, grabbing your wrist and searching your face.

"Are you okay?' He asked, worry pooling in his eyes as you smiled again, leaning forward to press a gentle kiss to his lips. When you leaned back, he seemed a little dazed, making you giggle as you stroked his cheek.

"I'm perfectly alright, Jamie. 'Specially when I've got you lot to take care of me."

This made him grin, pressing a fast kiss to your lips, before sharing very sweet ones with Remus and Sirius as well. Sirius smirked a little, chasing James's lips as he pulled back. He then pressed a teasing kiss to Sirius's nose before strutting towards the door, his smile blinding.

"You're so right, Dovey. Nothing's going to happen to you with us around, that's for sure."

hope this is good lovely!! plus, gave me a few ideas for some other drabbles, so thank you so much lol

[rebouks]

Previous // Next

Hi Alex!

I don’t think it’s stupid or cheesy to miss someone, I miss you too! Going back to normal after being on holiday is always horrible, especially after this one, and especially having to go back to school, I’m not a big fan! Do you go to school too? I wanted to ask if you did but I couldn’t… it’s nothing personal, by the way, sometimes I just can’t speak to people and I don’t really know why. I thought it was my decision if I did or didn’t before I met you but maybe not. My parents n’ the teachers at school call it selective mutism but I won’t bore you with all that crap.

I can’t see your new teeth but they grow fast so maybe next time! If they don’t maybe you could get some gold one’s like your dad has, unless you don’t wanna look like a pirate lol.. my littlest sister has four teeth now, and I have all my big teeth! I haven’t counted the twins though cos they’d probably bite me if I tried haha!!

Ava is the tiny one with the blonde pigtails! She’s cute but she still sleeps and poops a lot haha, she’s sorta chill though and definitely doesn’t cry as much as Wren and Byrd used to (have you noticed we’re all named after birds yet? I guess my parents thought it was cute since our last name is Finch) Wren’s the ginger one with plaits! She’s pretty funny but she’s super grumpy sometimes and likes to bite and kick (not me though, she loves me) I think it’s cos she’s tired a lot cos she never sleeps at night, kinda like dad.. they’re twins but Byrd is way different, I couldn’t get a picture of him cos he kept running off, he’s crazy like that but he’s super snuggly and loves playing doctor! He likes to pretend to break my legs so I can’t go anywhere then fix them for me haha. Brothers and sisters are fun but they can be a pain in the butt sometimes! We have a cat called Lou too, his full name is Toulouse and he likes to bring us leaves from the garden and scream about ‘em, and he loves stealing food when you’re not looking.

Dad’s been teaching mom how to cook cos she sucks at it (don’t tell her I said that though cos I always pretend it’s not THAT bad) she’s sorta getting better though so I suppose the whole practice makes perfect thing pays off eventually. I got a school project to make a lame volcano that I didn’t wanna do as well, but my parents made me do it anyway.. we all know that real volcanoes aren’t full of baking powder and vinegar though so I dunno if there was much point to it but they seemed to think it was important so I did it anyway, at least I got a picture of it “going off” I guess. No one likes homework, even if it’s supposed to be fun, right?!

It’s cool you set Amber free!! I’m sure she’s happier wherever she is now so I guess you could just think of that when you miss her? The rocks are way cooler anyway! My aunt Aspen has loads of crystals too, sometimes she even charges them in the sun or the full moon.. I keep forgetting to ask her why but I’ll try and remember so I can tell you next time!

Hahaa your poor dad with those birds! I’ll definitely keep the picture cos it’s hilarious, Wren found it the funniest but don’t worry, I’ll keep the picture safe from her sticky hands! I have a hiding spot in the attic for all the stuff I don’t want them touching. I guess birdwatching is sorta fun sometimes but you’ve gotta be quiet (easy for me I guess.. hah!) I’m not sure there’s any other birds round here other than seagulls since we live right next to the sea, those are the ones you can hear the most anyway cos they never shut up! My dad jokes that he used to be a seagull in a past life cos he’s loud and greedy like they are lol.. he’s been building me a treehouse too, I bet that’d be good for birdwatching!! It’ll be super cool once he’s finished but it’s taking ages cos he mostly does it all by himself, I try n’ help sometimes but I’m still too small to carry or lift most things.. I wanna be as strong as him one day, he can build and fix almost anything (he swears a lot during it though haha!) Do you ever think about what you wanna be when you grow up? I don’t really think about that sorta stuff cos working sounds boring, especially if it’s as lame as school!!

I’m ten, by the way! How old are you and when’s your birthday? Mine’s February 22nd. I don’t think I have a favourite food, anything my dad makes is amazing cos he’s a good cook and my mom makes the BEST pancakes! We’re always stuffed after dinner but dad says (lies) that pudding goes in a different part of your stomach so there’s always room for cake haha.. I think I like it best when he makes spicy food but Wren and Byrd hate it so he doesn’t make stuff like that too often. It’s fun to see how much you can eat before your mouth feels like it’s on fire and I’ve decided I’m gonna beat him one day so he better watch out!!!

I didn’t know what to write at first but I guess I sorta ended up writing quite a lot since I had some catching up to do! Are you and your dad on holiday in the tower or are you living there for now? It sorta sounded like you’ve been there a long time, where do you usually live? What kinda stuff does your dad dig up for work? It’d be cool if he dug up dinosaur bones!! I watched something like that recently and they were HUGE!

It’s hard to think of questions on the spot but you can talk about anything you want too! I probably owe you a million answers as well so you can ask anything you want too! I had fun reading your letter and I’m glad we can be pen-pals even if we don’t get to see each other! Maybe next time we meet in person I’ll be able to say something, but writing would still be fun too so I guess it doesn’t really matter, right?

Love Robin c:

ps. I’m keeping the funny photo of you yelling at your dad and there’s nothing you can do about it!!

pps!! I don’t have a way to print out photos yet otherwise I’d have sent some new ones. Dad gave me an old polaroid ages ago but it’s still broken, his friend said he might be able to fix it though so hopefully I can use that next time. Mom said you can have some of our old ones and the ones from her disposable camera whilst we were on holiday for now though so I’ll send those to you as soon as they come back!

[zer0brainc3lls]

Newtmas headcanons pt2!

Newt and Thomas both read and they just sit in bed together reading all the time, ever so often gasping and going "you'll never guess what just happened-"

Newt is a chronic clothes THIEF. he doesn't buy baggy clothes because he will just go and steal Thomas's stuff 😭 "its not your shirt, its OUR shirt. big difference." "I BOUGHT IT?!" "AND I PICKED IT FOR YOU!" "YEAH I SEE WHY NOW"

Thomas would see little trinkets or flowers and just give it to Newt with little to no context except maybe "for you!" "i found this" Newt has kept every single one. he presses the flowers and keeps them in a book, the trinkets are in a box.

Newt got told by a doctor he should be using a cane, Newt refused but made the fatal mistake of complaining to Thomas about it.. Newt now has a cane decorated with stickers.

before Newt got the flare he had a weaker immune system then the other guys (aka they have really strong immune systems and his was just normal so everyone thought his was weak) but after he got the flare and got cured it ACTUALLY got weak, like a cold for someone else will have him in bed for days vomiting :( Thomas however almost never gets sick.. so he takes care of sick Newt OFTEN

Newt loves taking care of plants, Thomas cannot keep them alive.

Thomas is wearing shorts in the freezing cold, Newt is in multiple layers the moment the temperate gets even slightly cold

Newt is a flower crown/bracelet WARRIOR. Anytime Thomas comes home with flowers he found if he has enough Newt makes them into bracelets for Thomas to wear around (sometimes he makes crowns but he usually makes bracelets because it’s more practical for Thomas)

Thomas won’t take the bracelets off unless he’s showering/sleeping (so they don’t break) and will wear them till they have withered off

Thomas BEGGED Newt to teach him how to plait hair, once he got it down he plaits Newts hair for him

Thomas sometimes has a hard time focusing, and will sometimes not look at people while they are talking (not in a rude way!!) and Newt will just tap him on the shoulder if it’s someone else but if Thomas is “ignoring” HIM.. yk that move he did to frypan when he was looking at Teresa? Yeah. That gets Thomas’s attention alright 😭 example:

Newt: yeah so then-

Thomas: *staring off into the distance, fiddling with his hands deep in thought*

Newt: *rolls his eyes and grabs Thomas’s face and makes him look at him* y’know you’re s’pose to look at people when they talk to ya Tommy

Thomas: *red in the face* uhm- yeah you’re right- sorry what did you say hun?

(Newt knows this gets Thomas flustered btw. Uses it to his upmost advantage)

When Newt got the cure (I’m insane) he still suffered from the rare burst of anger/paranoia and on very very bad days hallucinations, since he was past the gone when he got the cure. No where near as bad to when he had the flare but still bad none the less, Thomas reassures him constantly and helps him calm down.

Being sick is a massiveee trigger for Newt. Fever, flu, vomiting you name it he’s on edge. Sometimes he gets in his own head and second guesses if he’s really cured but once again Thomas saves the day and is always there for him when he’s sick, staying home more to make sure he’s ok. (Writing a small fic about this btw!!!)

Newt is a back rub fanatic. Loves them. Receiving end or giving he does NOT care!! Thomas figured this out and whenever Newt is upset Thomas rubs his back

Fav kiss placements (giving and receiving):

Newt: gives cheek and neck kisses, loves receiving normal, forehead/hair kisses & neck kisses

Thomas: gives normal, just all over Newts face & neck kisses, loves receiving neck kisses and cheek kisses

More on neck kisses specifically there is a reason beside lust!! Its pulse points, reminds them that this is infact real and the other is ok :)

When they hold hands they sometimes check each others pulses out of habit, if in a uncomfortable scenario one will check the others and if it’s higher they gesture with a head nod if the other wants to leave

They both underestimate their own injuries, the other freaks out when the other is slightly sick/injured because in the scorch tiny cuts or the flu were very dangerous. Not much medicine or anything. Even in the safe haven, it’s a habit they won’t get rid of convinced it keeps them safe. They had a rule in the scorch that they had to tell the other if they were injuried since they own they themselves won’t see it as a big deal. Example:

*in the safe haven*

Thomas: hey Newt I got this cut on my hand today *shows palm, slight cut still bleeding*

Newt: *eyes widen in shock, grabbing Thomas’s hand careful not to touch the wound dragging him away*

Brenda: where are you going?!

Newt: to bandage it!! *tugs Thomas’s faster*

They do the whole deal. Cleaning, bandaging double checking etc :( poor boys

Newt tops, Thomas bottoms. No further questions!!

They are NOT picky eaters. At all. Plates fully clean, they do have favourites though

Newt: he loves sweet foods but also loves spicy food, adores pineapple with his whole heart

Thomas: loves salty food, not the biggest fan of spice. Loves carrots and apples though (the carrot one is canon I think)

Going on about food, they share food without question. Apple? Cut in half. Got a snack? Got extra for the other. The other still has food on their plate (very rare) the other will finish it off.

In the wicked facility whenever Thomas ever saw Newt besides sneaking out (rare af) sometimes they would purposely bump into each other just for an excuse to say hi, very very quickly whispering anything important before being ushered away

Sometimes, the others wouldn’t be there when Thomas snuck around so there were a handful of times it was just Thomas and Newt. Newt remembers this and told Thomas, Thomas however doesn’t and is very sad about it. :(

They have perfected lip reading to a tee. Having full on silent convos while everyone else is just like “really?! AGAIN?” Example:

*Newt and Thomas silently talking, gesturing a fuckton with there faces*

Minho: *whispers to Brenda* I’m slowly figuring out that lil shucking language they got going on

Brenda: *whispers back* how?!

They started learning in the scorch, since they rarely got a moment alone they would silently talk strategy. Slowly but surely it turned into silent flirting in the safe haven so Newt will just mouth something and and Thomas will go OUTLOUD “NEWT. NOT HERE!!” “Tommy they don’t know what I’m saying remember??” “… oh yeah”

Before they got together they got into heated arguments and even got slightly physical, all jokes of course but they would shove eachother around and grabbing each others shirts to “emphasise their point” (GAYYYY 🫵🫵🫵🫵)

Another long yap session, expect more. Also new lil fic on working on but do not threat!! I bet on losing dogs chapter 4 IS COMING OUT SOON. And I may write a short lil spin off of Thomas’s worst flare moments in his pov if yall would enjoy that. And soon one of my moots requested a Jeff x reader fic I usually don’t write those but that will be out soon too!!

[autumnshighlady]

I've Always Liked to Play With Fire (part 31) - final chapter

NESTA ARCHERON X ERIS VANSERRA X FEMALE!READER

summary: the opportunity to help the females in the Night Court is now here, and the last chapter of the reader's plan concludes

warnings: none

word count: 7.1k

DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE

a/n: this is the final chapter of IALTPWF (there will be an epilogue for SURE, maybe a bonus chapter or two in the future) and i'm so emotional. i've poured my heart and soul into this story for two years and it's finally over. thank you to everyone who has shown this story support, I hope that in this chapter and the epilogue to come, you are satisfied with the ending. long mushy post to come later

part 1 // part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / part 7 / part 8 / part 9 / part 10 / part 11 / part 12 / part 13 / part 14 / part 15 / part 16 / part 17 / part 18 / part 19 / part 20 / part 21 / part 22 / part 23 / part 24 / part 25 / part 26 / part 27 / part 28 / part 29 / part 30

read on ao3

✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

Nesta ran her fingers through your hair, plaiting it up in a coronet identical to her own. Her hands were steady, despite the raging sea of nerves that wracked both of you. It was a day’s ride to the Night Court on dragonback, and you could practically feel Zôrzimril itching to take flight. Without moving your head, you glanced at the window, seeing your dragon's golden scales shining in the moonlight. Athariel was behind her, the two mighty beasts laying down and resting before their long journey. 

Both of you donned your new riding leathers, with featherlight but sturdy pieces of armour attached. The shoulder pieces were scaled like dragon skin – yours, gold, and Nesta’s silver. The designs of the leather blended with the metal armour were beautifully crafted, fitting perfectly to your forms. You didn’t know if you wanted Eris to tell you how much he spent commissioning the pieces, but you were grateful for the protection nonetheless. 

As Nesta carefully pinned your hair in place, your stomach churned. The plan to help the females of the Night Court escape would finally conclude by tomorrow morning. Despite the detailed planning and the fact you had all the other High Lords helping the cause, nerves still wracked you. As much as you could guide the females down the right path, there would undoubtedly be many who were too afraid to leave.

It is their choice, you had to remind yourself constantly. Being from a different court, there is only so much you could do.

“Where are you right now?” Nesta murmured, resting her hands on her shoulders and looking at you in the mirror that sat on your dresser in front of you.

You blinked, pushing away your negative thoughts. “What do you mean?”

She scoffed. “You have that distant look in your eyes. And I can hear that brain of yours ticking away like an old watch. What exactly are you fretting about?”

“What am I not fretting about is the easier question,” you grumbled. “There are so many things that could go wrong with this plan.”

The scraping of chair legs filled the room as Nesta pulled up a second chair, placing it next to yours and taking a seat. “Like that? Let us rationalise it, ok?”

You took a deep breath. “This is the truly final piece to my plan. The last piece on the board to fall. One way or another, we’ve gotten what we wanted so far. What if this is where it all goes wrong?”

“I think you forget the countless times things already have gone wrong,” Nesta gently reminded you. “Rhys capturing you, your engagement to Malgorm, much of what you planned has gone awry in some way. Yet it has all worked out – this will, too. Remember, you’re not doing it alone this time. We have Tarquin, Thesan, Helion, Tamlin, and Kallias all helping with the full support of their courts. We will be fine.”

“But the females might not be.” You pointed out, trying to keep your brain from worrying about how the groups could be followed and hunted down on their journey to escape.

“The ones from the Hewn City have Gwyn and Azriel to protect them, and the Illyrian females know the mountain passes better than any of the males. They can handle themselves,” Nesta insisted. 

Gwyn had gone back into the Night Court a few hours after the meeting in Solaris to begin her whisper network. You had watched with a mix of pride and worry as she grabbed the shadowsinger’s hand, winnowing back into the very place she would be in the most danger. Somehow, deep down, you knew she would be okay. This was not the shy, frightened Gwyn you had first met in the Library. No, she had grown a new strength that rivalled the toughest steel in the armoury. With Azriel at her side, they would protect the females from the Court of Nightmares.

“Is Emerie still going with you to the Illyrian meetup point?” Nesta asked you, adjusting the armbands on her leathers.

You nodded.

“Good. Illyria will be the hardest path to navigate. Helion, Lucien and I will easily be able to get the Hewn City females to the cove and across the border. But you’ll have to extend your magic quite far into the Steppes, have you rested enough for that?”

“I think so,” you stood up, walking over to your table of breakfast and forcing a few orange slices into your mouth to calm your stomach. It tasted bitter on your tongue, and it took everything in you to swallow it.

Your mate snorted, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms. “A fat lie. You were tossing and turning so much I was tempted to smother you to sleep,”

Smirking, you turned back to Nesta. “Well, there are ways in which you could smother me that I wouldn’t mind…”

Nesta’s cheeks went red, but she swatted you with her hand towel. “Insatiable thing. Did we not satisfy you enough yesterday before Eris left?” 

Now it was your turn to blush and look away. Eris had taken his and Tamlin’s armies on ships up to the Western coast of the Night Court. His goal was to feign an offensive launch to draw out the armies, undoubtedly drawing out Rhysand as well. False negotiations would take place, centring around questioning if Rhysand had dealt with Koschei yet – and if not, all six courts were prepared to attack and eliminate him entirely to break the bargain. But before he had left in his shining High Lord armour, your husband spent hours showing both you and Nesta how much he would miss his wives.

You shook your shoulders, brushing off the heated memories before you pounced on Nesta. The mating bonds in your chest urged you to engage in the frenzy that was common for new mates, but you resisted for now, choosing to change the subject. “So Helion will shelter everyone at the Day Court until me and my ships arrive with the Illyrian females since we don’t have the magic to winnow everyone,” you said, revisiting your plan you had gone over a million times.

Despite your constant repetition, Nesta remained patient. “Yes, my love,” she said. “Tarquin, Cresseida, Kallias, and Vivianne will be with you. I will have Helion and Thesan with me, and we will be waiting for you and the Illyrians to arrive before dividing everyone up.”

At the High Lord’s meeting a few days ago, every ruler had agreed to provide a home to a certain number of refugees. Autumn and Summer were taking the most, followed by Day, Spring, Dawn, and then Winter. “I can accommodate however many you need,” Kallias had said when discussing the logistics. “However, I do not think many will want to come. It is a harsher environment than many are used to, except maybe the Illyrians.”

With every court helping, there was room for thousands of females spread across Prythian. Nesta had played a large role in coordinating with builders and stonemasons from the other courts, sharing her plans and models from Solaris as reference for the construction of more shelters. It was an effort shared by fae all across the lands, a thought which warmed your heart.

“Everything is as in place as it can be, I guess,” you said, glancing outside at the rise of the moon from behind the mountains, a signal that it was time to go. “We are prepared. I just want all of this to be over. Aside from dealing with Koschei, this is the last obstacle to climb before I can finally relax, I think.”

Nesta placed a kiss on your cheek. “Me too. Now let’s go get Emerie, so we can get those females out of there and be done with all this.”

**********************

A surprisingly alert Emerie was already waiting for you in the clearing where Athariel and Zôrzimril waited. The beasts lifted their heads and called out happily, making Emerie flinch.

You laughed, causing the winged female to snap playfully, “Don’t even. Not all of us are used to dragons. Give me a hundred years before you expect me to not jump at those noises.” She donned black leathers with black armour, and that familiar white ribbon across her forehead. Her wings were a blueish black in the moonlight, 

“Well you’re about to spend a full day on the back of one so best get used to it quickly.” You grabbed your supply sac from Saeros, nodding your thanks before hauling it over your back. Despite having food, water, and extra clothes, it was not heavy thanks to a special spell from Helion. 

Emerie slung her identical sac over her arm. “We ready?”

“This is the most awake I’ve ever seen you at this hour,” Nesta joked from a few feet away where she was greeting Athariel, stroking the silver beast’s nose.

“I’m on a mission, okay?” Emerie shrugged. “Finally being able to help with something really awakens you.”

Colourful leaves crunched underneath your boots as you lead Emerie over to where Zôrzimril was waiting. “You say that like you haven't been up from sunrise to sunset working on Solaris for over two months,” you pointed out.

Emerie’s response was cut off as Zôrzimril lowered her head upon your approach, emitting a low rumbling noise as she eyes up the winged female. Emerie’s eyes were wide, and she stopped in her tracks. 

“It’s ok,” you reassured her as you ran your hand down the dragon’s jaw. “She’s just checking you out and saying hi. She won’t hurt you, I promise.”

“If you say so.”

“Come test it yourself. Say hello back.”

After a few protests, you managed to drag Emerie forward until she was face to face with your dragon. Zôrzimril’s nostrils flared, her eyes squinting as she seized up the creature in front of her. Gently, you grabbed Emerie’s hand, placing it on the dragon’s snout. She let out a gasp as her hand made contact with the hard but smooth scales of the beast, jaw slack with wonder. 

“Holy shit,” she muttered. “She feels so…”

“Powerful?” You finished your friend’s sentence for her, and she nodded.

“I never thought I’d know what it was to fly,” her voice was faraway, as if her mind and body were disconnected in a drift between memories and dreams. “I guess I will now.”

Nesta had come up to the two of you, pulling you both in for a big hug. You held your mate and your friend, sighing into their comforting touch. “I’ll see you both soon, okay?” Nesta said.

“Stay safe,” Emerie said as she nodded, giving Nesta a squeeze on the shoulder before pulling back and heading towards Zôrzimril cautiously, securing the straps of her backpack across her chest.

Nesta turned to you, a well of emotions swimming in her blue grey eyes. “What we’re doing here is bigger than both of us,” she said. “It will be the final nail in the Night Court’s coffin. I find myself wondering if we have doomed them to a tragic fate in our pursuit for revenge.”

You frowned. “Are you having regrets?”

“No,” Nesta shook her head. “I’m not. But it makes me sad. For as much as I hated the Night Court, it was a beautiful place. Not all of them were bad.��

You took Nesta’s gloved hands in your own. “Velaris will be safe. And we are aiding as many of the females from Illyria and the Hewn City as we can. Rhys may be an arrogant prick, but he is not a complete fool. He will protect his remaining citizens from Koschei – he put himself in this position, not us. He was the one ready to sacrifice them, let him deal with the consequences of those actions. Besides, many may choose to flee regardless of if they come with us or not.”

Your mate sighed, nodding. “You’re right. I just… I keep thinking about Feyre and Elain and the baby. I don’t want anything to do with them, at least not for a long time, but I don’t want anything bad to happen to them.”

“What if we wrote a letter to them?” You offered. “Let them know that should they need it, there will be a place for them at one of the sanctuaries. It doesn’t have to be in Autumn – I am sure Tarquin or Helion would gladly take them in.”

A sad smile came over Nesta’s face. “I’d like that, thank you.”

You knew Nesta’s relationship with her sisters would never be the same after everything that had happened in the last two years. It was a loss she would grieve and carry with her for a while. As much as you didn’t care for the other two Archeron siblings, they, too, had been dragged into the faerie world against their will. Truly, you hoped that one day they’d find happiness and a good home in Prythian, just not with Nesta in the Autumn Court.

Giving Nesta’s hand one last squeeze, you turned towards Zôrzimril and walked over to where Emerie was stroking the beast’s neck. When the dragon saw you approaching, she eagerly dropped her shoulder, extending her wing towards the ground for you to grab onto. So you gently stepped up onto the dragon’s scaling spikes, holding her wing for support and climbing up onto her back. In just a few movements, you settled yourself into the gaps between the horns at the base of Zôrzimril’s neck.

You peered down at Emerie, who went white. “Come on!” You called out in encouragement.

“That’s how you get up?” The Illyrian female baulked, causing you to scoff.

“Did you think we had a ladder or a staircase to get up?”

“Yes, actually!”

“Well time to put those Valkyrie muscles to use and get your ass up here.”

Emerie sighed, muttering to herself but grabbed onto Zôrzimril’s wing shakily. Awkwardly, she managed to scale up the dragon’s shoulder, panting and plopping herself down behind you. “That’s not as easy as you made it look.” She huffed.

You shrugged. “Take’s practice, now clip in.”

Emerie did so, taking the rope that was attached to her belt and clipping it onto the holster that was fitted around Zôrzimril’s nearest horn. You did the same, watching as Athariel spread her mighty silver wings beside you. The beast ran forward and shot into the air with the agility of a cat, and you heard Nesta whoop with delight. She seemed like a speck of dust on the large creature, but you managed to catch a glimpse of her turning her head around to look at you one more time.

Zôrzimril screeched in defiance of being left behind, and you patted her scales. “Volare,” you said to her using the command Eris had taught you. Happy to oblige, the dragon lifted her head, causing Emerie to grasp onto the scales in front of her and curse as she spread her wings and catapulted into the air.

The female behind you let out a yelp, and you lifted your chin to the stars above and sighed deeply, relishing the feeling of climbing higher and higher into the sky. Zôrzimril’s powerful body soared through the clouds, her wings cutting through them like razor sharp blades. 

It was only another minute before your ascent finished and you finally broke free of the clouds, and Zôrzimril angled herself straight once more. She let out a happy screech, dipping her claw down to slice through the clouds below as she flew North. Your breath caught in your throat as you took in the view. The moon was bright, illuminating everything in a blue-silver tone. The stars shone brightly even with the light of the moon, twinking as if they were greeting you.

Behind you, Emerie’s breathing had steadied. “Holy shit…” She said with awe.

You turned to face your friend. “A bit different than being carried through the skies by an Illyrian male”

“You have no idea…” Her brown eyes were wide with wonder as they drank in the view of the midnight sky. She stretched her wings as far as they could go, sighing. “I never thought I’d feel the wind on my wings like this.”

Despite the cold night air, your heart warmed at seeing your friend so happy. Carefully, she let go of her ironclad grip on Zôrzimril’s horns, letting her arms stretch out to the side. Straightening her shoulders, she tipped her head back and let out a whoop to the stars. Her voice rang out amongst the clear sky, and her smile did not fade all the way to the Night Court.

**********************

Your legs were numb from flying for so long, even a few hours later as you gathered around a small campfire with Emerie, Tarquin, Viviane, and Kallias. A small unit of guards were stationed nearby, ready to jump into action should things go south. Luckily, Kallias had put up a glamour around the beach, shielding both everyone on land and on the ships just offshore from lingering eyes. The Lord and Lady of Winter each donned their white fur coats that, combined with their pale skin and hair, made them glow under moon high. Tarquin wore a simple blue tunic with a deep V, his white hair braided back out of his chiselled face. While unmistakably powerful beings, they were dressed like they were going to a simple meeting rather than a rescue mission – perhaps as to not frighten the females. No doubt there was armour glamoured somewhere, ready to replace their casual attire at the snap of fingers. 

“They should be here soon,” Emerie muttered, pacing nervously and glancing at the rocky hills in the distance that led to the Illyrian Mountains where the females would be coming from. The steppes began half a mile away from the rocky beach where you stood, the beige and brown shrubbery rustling in the wind eerily. 

At least the mountains had shelter, places to hide from anyone who may try and follow the large groups. But the steppes were out in the open, which made you nervous.

“Give it time,” Tarquin said gently. “This is not a swift moving group of warriors. They are likely burdened with their provisions, as well as children and the sick or elderly.”

“Why can’t we just meet them at the end of the mountain pass and escort them to the beach?” Emerie asked nervously, cracking her knuckles.

“Because we are already in the Night Court’s territory,” Viviane tried to reassure the female, her white hair glowing in the moonlight. “To go farther than this would be considered an invasion.”

“Eris is launching an invasion, why can’t we?” Emerie spoke as if she had not heard half of the Lady of the Winter court’s sentence.

“A false one,” Viviane did not lose her patience as she spoke. “One that is taking place on ship, therefore not encroaching on Rhysand’s borders. Stepping on the beach is easy to overlook, but heading into the Steppes would be an act of war. We have to be cautious.”

Emerie nodded, eyes clouded as she stopped pacing and sat down on a nearby log. You knew your friend’s greatest fear – that only a small group would have made it out of Illyria, leaving hundreds left behind for dead. You prayed that her fears would not come true.

The steady pounding in your head that had started an hour ago began to increase, and you groaned, swaying slightly. The light in your palms that guided the doe you had manifested with your magic and sent deep into the Illyrian Mountains dimmed slightly, but you quickly willed it to strengthen once again. Deep down, you felt thin and stretched from having to extend your magic so far for several hours.

“Are you okay?” Kallias asked, his white brows narrowing with concern. 

You nodded. “Magic is tiring… I haven’t kept it going for this long… ever…” Your voice grew strained and weak, all of your energy focused on keeping that white trail of light going. You hated that you couldn’t even tell if there was anyone following it. All you could do was hope that everyone had made it to the designated escape starting point on time.

“She will not last much longer,” Tarquin muttered to his fellow High Lord. “It may yet be another few hours until the group arrives. I expect we will see them around sunrise at this rate.”

You barely heard Kallias’s response, closing your eyes and taking another deep breath. You could feel Nesta trying to reach you through the mating bond, but didn’t have the energy to respond. You could tell she was already in the Day Court, having succeeded in aiding the escape from the Court of Nightmares. And you wanted to reassure her that you were fine, that all was going well. But you couldn’t. You were swimming in a sea of your own powerful magic, but your body was not equipped to handle the strain.

“Hey, stay with us.” Your eyes snapped open at Viviane’s voice. She had come to stand at your side along with Emerie, an arm around your waist steadily supporting your unstable figure. Her blue eyes were laced with concern and she took in your exhausted form and turned to her husband. “She won’t be able to hold out until sunrise.”

“I can do it…” You muttered, mustering as much determination into your voice as you could. 

“No, you cannot,” Kallias said sternly. “You are not used to wielding magic for this long of a period. It requires extreme focus, especially for something as complicated as this. And you’ve been at it for several hours already, it is taking its toll and sooner or later you will pass out from exhaustion.”

Guilt wracked you, and you fought off tears. You felt like a failure as you whispered, “I’m sorry…” 

“Do not be,” Viviane assured you gently. “This is not a simple matter of setting up a ward or a glamour and leaving it be. You’re guiding a strange new type of magic none of us have seen before through miles of terrain that is unknown to you. Give yourself a break.”

“I can’t… stop…” You protested, vision going in and out. 

“So don’t,” came Tarquin’s voice. “I’ll give you a boost.”

Beside you, Emerie frowned. “A boost?”

You heard stones shift as Tarquin stepped around the fire, coming to stand in front of you. “Yes,” he said. “I can channel some of my magic into her to keep her body strong enough.”

“That’s a thing?” Your Illyrian friend asked.

“It is rarely done, as it is difficult to do, but yes.” Came Tarquin’s reply. 

“Do it…” You spoke up weakly, every syllable dragging out like a heavy stone. All you wanted to do was collapse into a soft bed and sleep for a year. Kallias was right, you couldn’t do this on your own.

“I must warn you, it will feel strange,” Tarquin’s voice sounded, and you felt Viviane and Emerie step away as the High Lord of the Summer Court took your hand that was not glowing with a trail of magic. “My magic is very different from yours, and your first instinct may be to expel it. Refrain from resisting.”

You nodded, opening your eyes and looking up at Tarquin. He nodded, and his hand moved up to your wrist, clamping down. You rotated your arm slightly to do the same, taking a deep breath. The male began to emit a soft glow, the whites of his eyes seeming to brighten and give him an otherworldly quality.

Seconds later, you felt it.

Tarquin’s magic pushed into your body, and you gasped sharply. It was like a tidal wave was being slammed into you, a raging sea coursing through your veins. It felt the complete opposite of Nesta and Eris’s comforting fire, or your own light-filled power. 

Your entire body felt like a riptide, and you could practically taste the salty air of summer on your tongue as your bones vibrated with new magic. You willed yourself to relax, to accept the foreign power being pumped into you. As you did so, your limbs felt stronger. Exhaustion was chased away, and you were finally able to open your eyes. A thin, golden band of magic circled in figure eights between your attached hands, dancing and twisting around each other.

“Thank you,” you whispered to Tarquin.

He nodded. “We must remain linked for the magic to prevail. An hour should give your body enough time to recover and reset.”

With renewed energy, you felt the white light in your free palm glow brighter, urging the Illyrian females out of the mountains.

**********************

The sun was beginning to creep up five hours later, and Tarquin’s boost of magic had vanished a while ago. Viviane was now holding you up once again, your head droopy as you fought to keep that light strong. You felt it was close, which made it easier to hang on.

“They’re approaching,” You said through gasped breaths.

Emerie shot up from where she was sitting, the jerky she was chewing on falling to the ground. “You can feel them?” She asked eagerly.

“No,” you responded as Kallias, Tarquin, and the soldiers perked up. “But my magic feels close, and we have to assume that means they are close as well.”

Tarquin turned to one of his guards. “Winnow to the ships and tell Cresseida we are almost ready to receive the refugees.” He ordered, and the guard disappeared within seconds. 

The hope in Emerie’s eyes as she gazed into the Steppes rekindled some strength within you. You gently pushed yourself off of Viviane, taking a shaky step towards where Emerie was looking.

“What’s that?” Viviane asked, pointing to one of the rocky hills in the distance near the mountains. Both the High Lords joined her where she stood a few feet away from you and Emerie.

A faint, glowing white doe stood upon the hill. Stardust seemed to swirl around its feet as it leapt over the rocks bounding through the plains towards the beach. Everyone held their breath, silence filling the air.

“Come on…” Emerie muttered nervously.

Moments later, a set of wings appeared where the doe was – a female carrying a lit torch. She was so far away, even with your fae eyesight it was hard to tell for sure who it was. But then another one appeared beside her, slightly taller, carrying a large sac.

“Lift the glamour!” Viviane barked at Kallias, who snapped his fingers. The air shimmered for a second before clearing. The doe continued to bound toward you, getting fainter and fainter as you felt the last bit of energy you had controlling your magic slipping.

More and more sets of wings appeared over the rocky hill, the torches going from one to a hundred in minutes. Like an army ready for battle, hundreds and hundreds of winged females stepped down onto the plains. Emerie let out a choked sob from beside you.

“By the Mother…” Tarquin gasped softly. “They made it!”

“There’s so many of them…” Viviane said with awe as more and more torches and winged bodies funnelled out of the mountain pass. Sure enough, through your blurry and exhausted vision, you managed to make out the sight of a swarm of bodies stepping onto the flat stretch, shuffling towards the now glamour-free beach.

As they grew closer and guards scurried about with preparations, you breathed a sigh of relief. And then the world grew dark as you collapsed into Tarquin’s arms with exhaustion. 

**********************

An otherworldly headache pounded against your skull as you blinked open your eyes, the golden sunlight shining into your face too bright to handle. Your entire body felt heavy, like a stone at the bottom of the ocean.  When you groaned, a familiar hand brushed some hair out of your face.

“Why hello there,” came the familiar silky voice of Eris. 

With as much effort as you could, you pried your eyes open and blinked a few times to adjust to the brightness. Eris was seated beside you, leaning against the frame of the bed you were laying in with a book in one hand. He donned a white shirt with a deep v-neck and loose sleeves, paired with light green trousers. His long red hair was braided back, a few strands framing his sharp face. He smiled gently. “How are you feeling?”

“Exhausted,” you mumbled, relaxing into his touch as he continued to stroke your face. “Where am I?”

“One of Helion’s quarters,” Eris said, bringing a cup of water to your lips and coaxing the liquid into your mouth. “You passed out right as the Illyrians arrived, and Tarquin brought you straight here.”

The Illyrians.

You sat up abruptly, ignoring the protest of your tired body. “They made it? The ships got them here safely?”

Eris smiled, nodding. “Yes, my dear. All eight thousand of them.”

Your eyes widened in shock. “Eight thousand? How many came from the Hewn City?”

“Five thousand, as to be expected. Many families had already made it to Velaris safely, so there were not as many females as in Illyria left behind.”

The room spun around you with shock. The white marble bookcases across from your bed seemed to sway, and you shook your head. “Wow,” was all you could murmur.

Eris gently pulled you against his chest, kissing your head. “Wow, indeed. I am so proud of you, my dear. You’ve saved the lives of thirteen thousand females today. They know what you did for them, and Nesta has had to practically barricade your door to keep them from barging in here to thank you.”

“Where is Nesta?” You asked.

“She will be here in a few minutes,” Eris replied. “You began to stir half an hour ago, so I sent word to her. She was with the other High Lords helping crunch numbers for which courts are taking which females.”

You sighed with content, the warmth of Eris’s body relaxing you. You turned on your side, wrapping an arm around him and snuggling closer to your mate. “I can’t believe we pulled that off,” you murmured.

Eris cocked his head, setting his book aside on the table. “Why? It was a good plan, and we thought through every possible scenario to ensure its success.”

“How did negotiations with Rhys go?”

Your husband let out a sharp laugh. “Seeing Rhysie is always such a treat,” he chuckled. “He fell for the bait quite easily. We waited for half a day in our ships before the Illyrians descended from the skies and the Darkbringers appeared on the shoreline, all ready for a battle that would not happen. I demanded an audience, and Rhys complied. I talked his ear off for a few hours, and let him whine about the supposed unfairness of all this. It got painfully dull after a while, but I found out something very interesting…”

You perked up, peering up at the male who had a smug look on his face. “What?”

“Rhysand broke his bargain with Koschei. After the baby was born, he travelled to the depths of the lake in which the Death God dwells and declared his intentions to not hold up his end. There was a price to be paid, of course, one I find very symbolic.

“Rhys has relinquished almost all of his power to Koschei. His magic was ripped out of him and fed to the beasts beneath the lake floors like a bone to a dog. He was left with the bare minimum to keep Velaris safe enough, but that’s it. Furthermore, he is required to visit Koschei once a month for a week – a mirror of that very same bargain he made with dear Feyre over a year ago. By doing so, he guaranteed Koschei will not go after Nesta, not with a new plaything at his disposal.”

Your jaw went slack. “Rhys… lost his powers?” You repeated in shock.

Eris didn’t even bother trying to refrain his smile from widening. “Yes. I think it’s justice, personally. I cannot say I feel bad for him in the slightest. It also seems Feyre told him that in the process of breaking the bargain, he had to find a way to keep Nesta alive as well. For all his faults, he will do whatever Feyre asks of him at this point. That is a blessing for us.”

You exhaled shakily. Rhys was one of the most powerful High Lords, now diminished to a regular High Fae male in a small city. There would be no gaining control of Illyria and the Hewn City now with this loss of power, you realised. “I can’t believe this…” You said, still rattled with shock.

Eris rubbed your shoulder. “Anywho, once he told me that story we made some reassurances to each other. Me and Tamlin’s ships departed slowly, giving the armies more time to linger and make sure we had left before returning home to find almost half of their population gone. The distraction worked perfectly, I am sure they are in a tizzy about it as we speak.”

Before you could answer, the door to your guest chambers swung open to reveal Nesta. Her hair was in a singular braid, hanging across her shoulder. She wore a shining gold dress that was carefully draped over one shoulder, the fabric hanging loosely across her chest. Your eyes popped open, and Eris laughed beside you.

“I have never seen you wear something like this before,” he chuckled.

Rolling her eyes, Nesta closed the door behind her and came over to sit on your other side. “Oh, please,” she snapped. “Helion picked it out personally. I couldn’t not wear it, it’s his court after all.”

“I’m not complaining,” you insisted as Nesta gave you a kiss on the forehead.

“He is a relentless flirt,” Eris said, amused. “But one with good taste.”

You sighed as Nesta rubbed your back, despite her death glare she sent at Eris. The three of you sat in silence for a few minutes, happy to be back in each other’s company. With your mates by your side, the weariness you had felt began to diminish. 

“I want to see the females,” you said. “I want to make sure they’re okay.”

“Emerie is taking good care of them and the dragons are guarding the borders,” Nesta said gently. “You need to rest.”

You shook your head, sitting up and peeling the soft duvet off. You crawled over Eris’s legs, unsteadily placing your feet on the white marble ground. 

“Take it easy,” Eris chided, holding your elbow. “Your body is exhausted. You can see them tomorrow.”

“No,” you said sharply, standing up like a newborn deer and heading over to the closet in the corner. “After everything we’ve done to see this through, I need to see them with my own eyes.”

Nesta and Eris exchanged a glance, but didn’t protest. You ignored them and grabbed the white dress Helion had hung up in there for you, peeling off your nightgown. You pulled the soft fabric on, tying the gold belt around your waist. “Where are they staying right now?” You asked.

“Many are in the main hall,” Eris replied, standing up. “Others are in temporary camps set up across the fields. I believe those residing in the main hall are currently at dinner.”

“Great,” you said, holding out your hand. “Take me there, please.”

“As you wish,” Nesta said, taking your other arm while Eris grasped your extended hand. 

After ten minutes of meandering through Helion’s royal hallways, you came to the dinner room, passing through the white columns at the entrance. 

Your jaw nearly dropped. Hundreds of females sat at tables or on comfortable floor mats, hearty soups in hand as they chatted quietly amongst themselves. A group of musicians played in the corner, the gentle tune echoing in the grand chamber. Dozens of eyes turned towards you as Eris and Nesta led you through the crowd towards the table at the front, where Emerie, Tamlin, Lucien, Helion, Thesan, Tarquin, Cresseida, Kallias, and Viviane were seated. Gwyn and Azriel sat at the end, partially hidden in the shadows. When your friend saw you, she smiled brightly and waved. You breathed a sigh of relief, seeing her safe after everything she had done.

Lucien stood up, coming around the front of the table to greet you. His eye gleamed with pride as he opened his arms. “Come here, you,” he said cheerfully.

Peeling away from your mates, you lept into Lucien’s arms, hugging him tightly. Your friend chuckled, squeezing you reassuringly. “Glad you made it out okay,” he said.

“You too,” you replied, pulling away and smiling at him. “We did it. We really did it.”

“I told you, you’d make a good High Lady,” came a familiar gruff voice. Tamlin had risen as well, approaching behind Lucien and offering you a small smile. “We are all very proud.”

“Thank you, Tam.” You said gratefully. His large hand patted you on the back before returning to his place at the table. 

Nesta gently grabbed your hand. “Come, you must eat.” She guided you towards one of the three empty chairs at the centre of the long table. It was covered in various fruits, roasted vegetables with sauces, and about ten different kinds of meat. Your mouth watered as you realised how hungry you were.

On the way, you stopped beside Gwyn and Azriel, leaning down to hug your friend. “Thank goodness you’re okay,” you murmured into Gwyn’s shoulder.

“Ye of little faith,” she said sarcastically “I was fine. All I did was chat up some priestesses, they were the ones who mostly spread the word. I was safe and sound.”

You pulled away. “Come join us at our end of the table!”

The priestess shook her head. “I’m okay here, it’s too crowded over there.”

“You mean you want to just sit here and ogle Azriel,” Nesta singsonged with a gleam in her eyes.

Gwyn’s face went red, and to your surprise, Azriel flushed slightly as well. “Shut the fuck up,” she snapped at Nesta playfully, shifting in her seat.

“It’s okay, Gwyn,” Eris piped up, winking at the shadowsinger, who seemed like he wanted to bury himself alive. “He is quite pretty to look at. But should you change your mind and like to join us, let us know.”

You laughed, Gwyn’s muttering and cussing you out as you, Nesta, and Eris took your seats at the table. As you dove into the plate of food in front of you, you tuned into the lively sounds of the room while Nesta and Eris began chatting with Helion. 

Many of the females kept glancing at you, some offering smiles or nods before returning to their company. Some were huddled in the corner, eyes wary as they consistently scanned their surroundings. You wondered how many females had similar stories to Emerie, or to Morrigan. How many had suffered for years and accepted it because they believed that is how things would always be? How many had been spared future suffering because of their escape?

As you downed your goblet of wine, you reminisced on that day in the House of Wind last year when you had first started your plan to flee the Night Court and seek revenge on its leaders. Never did you think that it would go this far, that you would accomplish this much. All you had wanted was to be free and be able to make your own choices. And now it led to seeking that same outcome for thousands of others.

Rhys could never hurt you again. Those painful images of that cruel, dark mist lashing your bare skin over and over again would fade into distant memory eventually, with no fear of it ever happening again. He couldn’t lock you or Nesta up, or threaten you. No, you both had more power than him now by a long measure. You were finally free from his grasp.

A year ago you had been angry at Feyre, too. Part of you still was, and delighted in the karmic justice of destroying part of her court in retribution. But you hoped for her sake, that she would accept the help offered in the letter Nesta had planned to send. For a moment, you wondered if Feyre would still be who she was now if she hadn’t met Rhys.

“What are you thinking about?” Eris asked you, leaving Nesta to argue with Helion herself.

His amber eyes were soft and kind, the cruel mask that he had plastered on for so many centuries cracked and slipped away. The world could see Eris for who he truly was not, not just as Beron’s firstborn son. 

You smiled. “How I can’t wait for everything here to be sorted so we can go home.”

“Me too, my dear, me too.” He squeezed your hand and surveyed the room again. “You have accomplished what many in the likes of my father deemed impossible. Now even the most stubborn fae realise that things can change fast if they will it so. That is a very good thing.”

“Yes, it is.”

The road ahead would not be without challenge. Settling thirteen thousand females into six courts would be a process, and there would surely be setbacks along the way. But after a year of being tortured, beaten, sneaking around and scheming, you were ready for some normal problems.

“Eris?” You said.

He turned to face you once again. “Yes?”

“I love you. And thank you, for everything you’ve done. None of this would have been possible if you hadn’t agreed to help me last year.”

The High Lord of the Autumn Court laughed, kissing your cheek gently. “It is I who should be thanking you. Both of you. You freed me from the prison of my old life. And not just me, but thousands of others. I intend on spending eternity thanking you for it.”

So you laced one hand in Eris’s, and the other in Nesta’s as they both looked at you with so much love in their eyes you were sure you would explode. As much as you liked the Day Court, you yearned to be back in Autumn where you belonged, under the bright trees and wandering the forest paths. As if echoing your thoughts, Zôrzimril’s call echoed on the wind like an ancient song.

And so the yellow rays of sunshine morphed into orange and red, and the sun began to set. You felt a faint brush of a hand on your shoulder, and a familiar, ethereal voice sounded in your ear barely above a whisper.

Well done, my child.

As the sun finally disappeared behind the mountains, the echoing voice faded with it. 

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[volturissideslut]

I saw that you wanted Rosalie requests so here I am 🙇‍♀️

Could you do general relationship hcs with Rosalie? Either gn or fem please 🌹

𝕽𝖔𝖘𝖆𝖑𝖎𝖊 𝕳𝖆𝖑𝖊

Yes I do, absolutely I do!! Roll in requests for the girlies of anything i write please please please. I wrote this as more of a random day in life with her

During her human life Rosalie was definitely wishing for that American dream life with a white picket fence and a husband and kids, maybe even to be able to holiday on boats and abroad. But when all is said and all is done she could not be more happy with her life than she is with you right now.

Your hair is a little messy, coming loose from the plaits she had put it in just that morning, but you look just as gorgeous as ever. With a smile she watches on as you ask her questions from under the car, holding back laughter as she answers.

"Yes yes dear, that's the one to change the oil"

"Are you sure, Rose? You're not even looking" you huff and she can hear the pout in your voice, and knows the way your tongue must be poking at the inside of your cheek the way it always does in mock irritation.

"I'm sure darling. I've been working with cars like this since they came out" she's sure you can tell she's holding back a smile as well, having been together long enough. Still, her teeth find themselves gently biting into the inside of her mouth to stop her widespread smile from appearing. "now pull already, would you?"

And when you do she can no longer hold back her laughter, the back of her hand rushing to cover her mouth. You squirm and shriek from under the the car and immediately pull yourself out from under. A deadpan stare is thrown your girlfriend's (soon to be fiance, not that you know yet) way.

And she breaks, practically folding in half as she stifles her laugh. "We all have to do it once!" is her excuse as she takes in the oil patch stain on your right shoulder, smearing itself up to your cheek. "I'm sorry I'm sorry" she lets out between laughs, completely unapologetic.

With playful vengeance in mind you let your expression sweeten. "That's okay darling. Kiss and make up"

You stand from the floor and watch Rosalie's face drop in realisation. "No! No! I said I'm sorry!" she please as you step towards her menacingly, fully intent on giving her a big cuddle and a sloppy kiss. Gotta spread the love (oil).

"C'mon baby, thought you loved me" you give clearly fake and menacing puppy eyes as you back her into a corner.

"You can love me from afar " she says, still laughing. But you know she doesn't care really. She's a vampire and could easily stop this and step away if she wanted to. She could walk away or stop you in your place. Instead she resigns to the corner, still grinning in mischief as you close in on her with a hug.

"Awhhh share the love!" you say in playful enthusiasm, rubbing your oil-covered arm and shoulder over her to transfer as much as possible. Meanwhile, Rose pushes herself against the wall laughing like a fearful girlfriend who has been tickled and shrivels in laughs.

With a final unladylike laugh from her she gives in, giving you a big fat wet smooch on the lips which smears more oil onto her cheek than there even seemed to be on yours.

"I think we ought to shower" her voice is quiet in its place near your ear.

"I think so too" and just like that you're whisked away. Mess be damned, Rose has a girlfriend to tend to and she can sort that out later. Maybe actually change the car oil too.

[dean-a-mean-tae]

Light At The End | Stray Kids Extra Member AU

You shine bright Brighter than all the stars ... And your perfection even in your mistakes Give affection even when your heart aches

Chan x Nicholas | Those are song lyrics from Alvin and the Chipmunks ;-; | I hope this was to your standards!

WARNINGS: Discrimination, Racism, Could be perceived as self-harm (Nicholas gets hurt twice but is okay with both), anorexia (different for everyone this is based on my experience), I think that's it

I realized I forgot to put warnings, and I am so sorry. (Update 12/22/23 9:20)

Nicholas Ross Master List | Requested: Yes | Of The Tunnel Part 2

"I'm gonna ask you something, and I want you to be honest," Chan whispered. His voice was loud in the silence of his room. Nicholas sat with him with a stuffed frog in his lap.  

They were in their spot again. The place Nicholas first opened up to Chan. The place where Chan swore to help Nicholas find himself.

"What happened?"

You know the phrase, 'Your parents are your first bullies,' right? They told you they did it to prepare you for the world, and it worked. You know the world is cruel, and nowhere is safe for you. Not even your head. Your head is clouded by judgment forced on you as a child.

"Why don't you talk to me?" They whine. They don't realize they follow in their parents' footsteps. They tell your business because it's family, then get angry when you do the same. Isn't that what they taught you?

Nicholas grew up in a world of hate and then got thrown into a world of more hate.

He couldn't handle the ones about his appearance. Why don't they like him? He's tall, has soft skin, has healthy hair, and is happy. He has proper hygiene and cares for his body as much as it allows. 

He was used to the comments about his talent, or lack thereof. He could handle the ones complaining about his spot in Stray Kids. Those were easy because they were true. These cuts weren't deep, and they reminded him of home.

"You did good in practice today," Felix said as he looped his arm through Nick's.

"Only because Minho hyung stayed behind and helped. I'm out of rhythm still," Nicholas denied, shaking his head.

But the ones about his appearance? His mother taught him to be proud of his complexion and how his hair grew from his scalp. So, what was wrong with him? Why don't they like him? Why can't they like him?

"Nicholas?"

Maybe he should get a perm. Is that what it's called? A perm? The thing that gives you curls or takes your curls is a perm, right? Whatever, the stylist will know what he's talking about. It was her idea anyway.

"When will you tame these knots?" The woman groaned as she brushed through Nicholas' hair. It hurt, but he wouldn't say anything. She is the hairstylist. This is her job. It hurt when his momma braided his hair, but it always looked good when done.

"What knots? I brushed and plaited my hair," Nicholas explained, looking at the woman in the mirror. She would be pretty if she stopped glaring. Glaring gave her wrinkles around the eyes and reminded him of those pug dogs.

"We should put a relaxer in your hair. The chemicals will make it straight and fix these knots." She ignored him. She kept talking about his unmanageable hair and how difficult it was to work with him.

Relaxer, that's what it's called, or is it both? Nicholas can't remember. He should schedule one. He couldn't tell the members. Jeongin and Changbin would strangle him before letting him get rid of his curls.

"Nick, can you hear me?"

"Did you hear?" Someone whispered, and Nicholas tilted his head. The mirror showed the two stylists behind him.

"He only washes his hair once a month. Twice if his members help him," She grumbled. 

The woman in front of her grimaced in disgust, "Could you imagine the build-up?"

"What about his stylist?" The first one huffed, leaning to hide from a passing staff. "Don't you think it's selfish making her deal with the dirt?"

Maybe the relaxer will help make wash days easier. Simple wash days meant his hair could be washed frequently. 

His eyes were stinging again. 

"Don't rub your eye so hard," Chan scolded as he yanked Nicholas' arm away from his eye. The pull sent a pain up his shoulder, but it's okay. "You still have your contacts in."

Contacts? Oh, the new ones he got from Nicki. After one of the members gave her his account information, she would put money in his account and order things for him. A sweet woman, she is.

For some reason, these contacts prevent him from crying. He likes them.

"Is this about the comments?" Chan whispered. He knew? Of course, he knows. If Chan knows, then Minho knows. Minho finds these things before everyone.

Nicholas still can't find the strategy in Minho's methods.

"Nicholas?" 

He did it again. He fell down the rabbit hole. He needs to stop doing that. Did he eat today? He skipped breakfast cause he had an early practice. He promised Hyunjin he would eat later after vocal lessons. He drank a smoothie and ate an apple. 

Technically, he didn't lie. Hyunjin would still be mad, though.

"I need to eat something," Nicholas said, more like croaked. Had he been quiet this whole time?

"You're hungry?" Chan asked.

"No." But he knew he needed to eat something. He was doing so well. He ate two meals and four snacks yesterday. And he didn't throw up. He forgot to tell Nicki about that. 

Too late now. Progress gone.

"I'm proud of you." Maybe it was how soft Chan said. Or it could have been because of the raw emotion in his voice. But a quiet, pathetic sound left Nicholas' lips, and his fists tightened around the frog. Gentle hands guided him to warmth. 

You would think he'd be used to this by now. Comfort through touch or even words. He didn't have that from his parents, and his sister didn't know how to be gentle until they were older.

"I'm proud of you."

There it was again. The phrase that broke him. The phrase that scared him. He used to think love was conditional.

But a genuine love, platonic or romantic, is unconditional, even when it hurts. That's why it hurts to move on or forget.

He was moving now. Where is he going?

"Go to sleep, Nick," Chan whispered. Oh, he's being carried. That's why it's so warm. They're going home? He missed home. He wondered how they were doing.

"Thank you, Starlight," Nicholas whispered.

"You're welcome."

Nicholas Ross Master list | Of The Tunnel Part 2

©️DEANAMEANTAE2023

Tags list: @bada-lee-ily, @jinnie-ret, @hwxnghyynjin, @foxilsdenn, @rensahazard, You can be added by asking in the replies, sending me a message, or doing an ask thingy.

[yxtubers]

𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮

nick sturniolo x platonic!reader (fluff)

summary: reader is having a hard time so they turn to nick for comfort

warnings/notes: reader has long hair, not proofread

requested?: yes!

> > >

You had been feeling like shit for what felt like forever. Nothing you did seemed to turn out right, and you were stressed for seemingly no reason. Everything you did to try and make you feel better had turned out to be in vain. You still felt absolutely horrible.

One person who could always put a smile on your face no matter what was Nick.

He could always cheer you up on your worst days, and if not he acted as a listening ear whenever you needed. He was a really good friend - your best friend.

Therefore as soon as you called him, he had dragged Matt with him to come pick you up immediately. That was one thing you appreciated about him - he was fiercely loyal and stood by his friends, no questions asked.

Dragging you up to his room, he sat you on his bed.

“Okay, tell me what’s wrong,” he said. “And don’t say nothing - you were practically sobbing on the phone.”

You took a second to think. What was wrong? Nothing particularly grueling was going on in your life.

“I honestly don’t know. I just feel stressed for no reason,” you admitted, shoulder slouching slightly.

It was nice to finally be in his room. It was kind of like your safe haven away from the world. There was nowhere more relaxing than just hanging out with Nick.

He sat down next to you, hugging his arm around your shoulder.

“Is there anything I can do for you?”

You just shrugged in response. You honestly felt sort of bad. He was trying to help, and you were only bringing the mood down by being so negative.

An idea popped into his head.

“Sit on the floor,” he instructed.

Giving him a weird side look, he rolled his eyes. You had no idea what was going on his brain. At least his floor was clean though.

“Just do it, please.”

You shifted your weight off the bed, sitting criss-crossed on the floor in-front of his bed. The bed creaked as he leaned over, opening his drawer and pulling out a hairbrush. He sat behind you and took your hair out of it’s messy ponytail.

He ran his hands through it a few times, untying some of the knots before he began brushing.

“My mom used to do this,” you said, eyes closing.

Nick smiled before responding. “Me too. Before I went bald.”

You laughed slightly at the memory of him with shaved hair. The stress had already began to lift off your shoulders.

The sound of your knots breaking could be heard as Nick gently combed through it, running his hands along to make sure it was neatly done.

“Can I try braid your hair?” he asked, “Madi taught me how but I still need practice.”

You nodded silently, enjoying the quietness of the room.

Your eyelids began to feel heavy as you felt his hands part your hair into three sections. He worked slowly, not wanting to break your relaxed state. If there was one thing about Nick, it’s that he was incredibly good at reading people, and right now he knew you just needed someone to be there - not to talk, but to sit in silence with you as you pondered.

“I remember once that you said you liked when people played with your hair,” he said as he finished up the last few pieces of the braid.

“That was forever ago.”

He grabbed your hair tie off his wrist from when he took your hair down and tied up your plaited hair.

“Yeah but I always remember what you tell me. That’s why I’m your favorite friend,” he replied jokingly.

You scoffed playfully at him, leaning your hand back to feel your hair. It was surprisingly neat, but when you went to look in the mirror you burst out laughing.

“Nick, what is that?”

He feigned a look of offense. “It’s quite obviously a braid.”

You shook your head at him, laughing at the abomination on the back of your head. After taking a picture of it, you sat back down onto the bed, still in disbelief at what he had done to your hair.

“You definitely need more practice,” you said.

“This is how you treat me after I just did your hair for you?”

Raising your eyebrow at him, you replied. “I can hardly call that ‘doing my hair’”

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, waving his hand at you. “Now get into bed and we can watch a movie.”

Pulling the hair tie off the end of your hair, you crawled into bed. You snuggled into one of his pillows as he turned off the light, grabbing his laptop and sitting next to you.

“Seriously though, thank you,” you said.

“Anytime.”

You both fell asleep with a random disney movie playing in the background. Finally, you felt relieved and fully rested. You could always trust Nick to brighten your day.

- - -

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭:

@lollibumblebee

@d0wnt0wnstu4n1ol0

@gracietaylorsversions

@20nugs

@thetriplets3

@stxrniqlo

@sunshinewwx

[starglitterz]

serendipity. (x)

─── chapter 10 ! ~ a normal day at komore (until it wasn’t)

summary; when you, a waitress at the local coffee shop, are paired up with the new recruit scaramouche, you’re pretty sure both of you are going to get fired within a week. he’s just quit being a social media influencer and after being forced to work here to make ends meet, he’s ready to let everyone there know how much he hates it. the worst part? you can’t shake the feeling that you know him from somewhere. but as he slowly warms up to you, scaramouche realises that having a fresh start isn’t that bad after all, and perhaps the two of you meeting like this was pure serendipity.

a/n; new arc!! also i've been gone for a million years sorry 😭 life is just always on my ass for no reason, but hopefully i'll be able to finish this series soon hehehe, i wanna start a new one.

warning(s); none but i feel like the flow of the irl part is so abysmal it deserves its own warning LMFAO

previous.┃masterlist.┃next.

please reblog + comment ! it helps a lot :)

twitter #1 !

irl !

everything’s been going well today. the milkman delivered a couple extra bottles for free, a customer left an incredibly generous tip, and thoma perfected a new dessert. the day’s been going almost a little too well, but you don’t want to say it out loud for fear of jinxing it. it’s almost closing time, so thoma and yoimiya have already gone home too. maybe this could be the first time komore teahouse has an entirely uneventful day?! unfortunately for that dream, a second later you hear an easily recognisable shattering sound from where you’re cleaning out the storeroom – someone’s dropped a plate. sighing internally, you plaster on your best customer-service smile and grab the broom and dustpan before heading back out to sort out the mess.

the sight that greets you isn’t what you expected at all. scaramouche is standing opposite a tall, elegant woman dressed in a suit with neatly plaited purple hair, and the shards of the plate are scattered on the floor between them, almost like a line he’s daring her to cross. the woman’s eyes flicker with a myriad of emotions and she reaches out a hand, seemingly to cup his cheek, but scaramouche instantly slaps it away, fury evident in his gaze. hurt flashes across her face, and her voice trembles as she murmurs, “kuni-”. but before she can finish her sentence, scaramouche snarls, “fuck off.” “please, just hear me out,” she pleads, her indigo irises that look strangely familiar threatening to brim over with unshed tears. anger is practically radiating off of scaramouche, you’ve never seen him this upset – you’ve only seen his usual aloof facade. his fists are clenched, and his glare is so intense you swear it’s like he’s trying to strike lightning into the heart of the unknown woman as he spits, “you don’t get to just waltz back into my life after-” 

a piece of ceramic from the broken plate cracks under your foot as you step backwards, the sound almost deafening amidst the tension, and scaramouche’s head snaps to face you. for a moment, he looks so devastated that a strange urge to rush forward and comfort him almost overwhelms you, but then he conceals it behind a cold stare as he turns back to the woman, “i can’t do this right now.” with that, he walks out of the cafe, ignoring the way she winces as the door slams shut. with scaramouche gone, tears start to stream down the woman’s cheeks, and she buries her face in her palms as her shoulders shake with quiet sobs. tentatively stepping forward, you pat her back, “ma’am, are you alright?” as soon as the words slip out of your mouth you’re scolding yourself for asking such a stupid question – she obviously isn’t fine! thankfully, she inhales deeply before sighing, “no. but that isn’t your burden to carry.” unsure of what to do next, you settle for giving her an awkward smile before starting to sweep up the pieces of the plate. “i’ll compensate you for the plate, of course,” she says, placing a wad of cash on the counter, “i hope that makes up for the scene i caused.” “thank you…” you murmur, staring at the money and wondering how much this lady thinks plates cost, “and don’t worry, it was half scara’s fault too.” 

“scara?” her voice sounds strange when she utters his name, as if she’s testing how the name feels on her tongue, “is that what he goes by?” “yeah,” you look up at her as you finish sweeping, “he’s our newest barista.” “oh… good for him, then.” you can’t tell if she means it or not. “i’ll be taking my leave now, but i’ll be back soon. thank you for being so accommodating.” she continues, and you don’t dare look up until you hear the sound of the bell above the door signaling her exit. now what on earth was that about?

twitter #2 !

© starglitterz 2024. do not repost or modify in any way.

[buckgasms]

I had a thought and I can't stop.

Princess shyly asking to brush Bucky's hair. Slowly working up the courage to ask if she can braid his hair for him. OF COURSE he says yes because he can't say no to his princess. She squeals in delight and runs to get her pretty hair ties and clips. She stands behind his chair during a meeting practicing her French and German braiding and making him her "prettiest daddy ever" 😍😍😍

I wanna touch his hair so bad 🤤 🫠 🥵

This.

This right here is so fricking adorable it makes my heart want to explode. Um yes to all of this....

His hair at the moment is just 🤌🏻🤌🏻 I need to feel it, I just need to one time!

Ok so yeah maybe Princess has noticed during Daddy's meetings that he keeps running his hand through his hair to get it out of the way? And it's pissing him off because he's just trying to live his life and that one bit of hair won't fuck off.

So in between meetings you sidle up to him and ask if you can play with his hair and make it so it won't bother him anymore. He feels a bit weary, but looking at your beautiful face, pretty doe eyes and exciting hops he cannot say no.

You dash off down to your apartment and find your nicest brushes and prettiest hair ties and clips and you come back to his office out of breath with excitement.

He sits on the sofa in his office so you can stand behind him and brush and sort his hair while still having his meeting. You feel a bit nervous when they all come in and raise their eyebrows at you playing with the bosses hair, but Bucky goes straight into business so they check themselves and get on with work.

You quickly forget their looks as you get absorbed in your task. You spend time brushing through his soft locks with your pretty pink brush. You spray some nice smelling treatments into his hair to promote shine or something. It just feels nice to pamper Daddy for a bit. Your fingers massage at his scalp, rubbing along his shoulders and pull gently at his long locks, relieving some pressure from his scalp and neck.

Once you've brushed through every knot and parted how you need it, you decide on a long braid with some pretty smaller plaits to tuck in the sides. His soft silky strands flow perfectly through your fingers, and you create beautiful strong braids that keep pesky flyaways out of his face.

You of course, princess it up by using some glittery clips and even some glitter at the ends (which he won't be able to see until later) and press a kiss to his head to let him know you've finished.

Right on cue, the meeting ends and the others get up to leave with haste. He leans his head back and you giggle at his tired face. "Baby that was amaaaazing" he groans and you press another kiss to his forehead. He pats his thigh and you scoot round the chair and slide onto his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck, fiddling with his new braids. "You're the prettiest daddy in the world" you say and he chuckles, pressing a kiss to your lips.

"Didn't know I was so talented with my hands did you Daddy?" You tease and he growls, his eyes closed and hands playing with the hemline of your pretty skirt. "Hmm I think I have had some experience of your hands..."

You lean down and close your eyes to, pressing kisses to his jawline and slipping your hand into his shirt, rubbing his chest and enjoying his fingers rubbing circles on your sensitive thighs. He's got another meeting coming up soon but you both just want to sit in the peace and enjoy some softness for a while

[that-sure-is-a-person]

Bake off 2024 Bread week!

- it’s here the week that often devine’s how contestants do for the rest of the season

- can’t beat Alice and Noel puns

- theses chalanges look like some classics

- THATS ALOT OF GOCHJANG DYLAN

- for those who are unacquainted cooking is art, baking is science and bread is luck, if the environment isn’t right it won’t work, my uni flat is great for proving bread but my home is terrible

- these flavours all sound amazing

- Nelly scares me a bit

- the tent has a notoriously iffy climate to adjust for with baking

- I love Noel, I want to meet him… I also want to steal his clothes

- the first Paul pat

- come on girl avoid the curse

- Paul will always be hyper critical during break week

- LETS GOOO DYLAN !!!! Achieve your dreams!!

- I’m suprised Paul hasn’t had gochujang but thinking back to his Japan show not really, he was so unadventurous and close minded with a lot of the new flavours

- oooh a demo in technical that’s new

-this is just a fishtail braid

- Oooh that would be good with a bowl of dip in the middle

- with kneading it’s all about texture and feeling the change

- smart Dylan practicing with the cling film

- also messing up with the plait causes overworking the dough and will cause issues with the rise

- none of them made it long enough

- Andy had a mare but pulled it back expertly

- oh Dylan my love

- have we had a cornucopia bread show stopper before? Someone might have made a cornucopia for a showstopper but it wasn’t the stict brief

- time for some spacemangment

- all I can think is hunger games with the cornucopia

- you get such a sense of people through there bakes

- Dylan please Marry me (/jk)

- I love seeing the relationships and dynamic build between contestants and the hosts

- why would you make bagels mate, I know you make them a lot but the tent isn’t the best for those kind of bakes

- come on guys

- these are all so stunning

- love the stylisation of the Devon cornucopia

- Dylan’s presentation is amazing

-Andy my man, you cursed yourself with the hats

- WELL DESERVED DYLAN!!

- I’m not suprised johns gone

- now the classic opening 3 are done we enter the Wild West of weeks

-FUCKING CARAMEL WEEK!!!! YALL ARE FUCKED WITH THE HUMIDITY