#Tiara Alert

[tiaramania]

TIARA ALERT: Alia Bhatt wore hair jewelry by Sabyasachi for the Met Gala at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City on 6 May 2024.

[the-jewel-catalogue]

TIARA ALERT

Diplomatic Reception is TONIGHT !

[dragons-and-yellow-roses]

Me: I should probably clean my room, unpack, find my laptop and finish the work tasks that were due yesterday

Also me: I think I'm going to hot glue flowers, vines, and ribbons to a basket instead :)

[miss-mollys-ballet-blog]

The entire royal fandom when Kate finally wears THE STRATHMORE ROSE OH MY GODDDDDDDDDDDD!!!!!!!!!!

[pathologicalreid]

wrapped around your finger | s.r.

in which you come home to find spencer in peak girl dad form

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: fluff content warnings: mom!reader, girldad!spencer, nail polish, this is technically the family from cryptic, but you don't need to read cryptic to know what's going on word count: 578 a/n: this is for the anon who asked for dad!spencer! i always have some dad!spencer on retainer for when the people are in need! it's nothing crazy, but i was cleaning up my desk and found a sticky note that said spencer would definitely let his daughter paint his nails.

A little voice carries itself from down the hallway, and you follow the sound of it. The carefully chosen words of your four-year-old daughter make you wonder who she could possibly be speaking to. Slowly, you walk down the hallway, trying not to alert anyone to your presence.

On your way, you peek into the nursery, your younger daughter sleeping soundly in her crib as you pass her, finally ending up at the doorway of Eleanor’s room, “Do you like the color?” She asks gently, holding her father’s hand in hers and inspecting his fingers.

“I love the color, thank you,” Spencer says politely, “You know, purple is my favorite color.”

The smile that blooms on her face is so bright, it makes you wish you’d never left the house in the first place. “Mommy told me!”

Nothing in all of the parenting books you’ve read prepared you for your firstborn to stop calling you mama. The switch had caught you off-guard, and you found yourself mourning the little girl she had been while simultaneously prideful of the personality that she was developing.

You’d have to keep better track of it with Olivia, though you and Spencer hadn’t come to a consensus on whether or not you were done after two kids. The sight in front of you might just be enough to convince you to go for a third.

Her princess tiara slides forward on her head as she focuses on painting Spencer’s nails, your husband sitting in a chair that’s comically small for him as her small hands deftly apply the lacquer.

Catching sight of you in his periphery, Spencer gives a soft smile in greeting, not wanting to alarm Eleanor of your appearance. “You’re really good at painting nails,” he observes, reaching his free hand up to adjust her crown.

“I wanna do it forever and ever,” she responds giddily, putting the brush back into the bottle. You notice the way Spencer reached over to seal the nail polish bottle, preventing a tragedy before it strikes.

Spencer hums in response, “If that’s what you want, lovebug.”

She smiles, spinning around in her PJs until she sees you, “Mommy!” She squeaks excitedly, running over to you and giggling when you pick her up.

“Hello, Princess Nellie,” you greet her, hugging her tightly before setting her back down. Listening to see if the ruckus woke up the baby, you walk further into the bedroom when you hear no stirring from the room next door.

She smiles, pointing at Spencer with a proud look on her face, “I painted daddy’s nails.”

“I see that,” you took in the sight before you, Spencer’s nails had indeed been painted, along with all of the skin surrounding them. “They look great honey,” you tell her, sitting down on the edge of her bed.

Nellie looks up at you expectantly, “Daddy said I can’t paint Livvy’s nails.”

You smile slightly at the pout on her face, “That’s right, she’s too little to have her nails painted.” Though you have to admit, you’ve been imagining mini spa nights with your daughters from the moment you found out you were having another girl.

Her eyes go wide as saucers, “Oh! Then it’s a good thing I have daddy.” She beams over at her father, and he looks at her with an equal amount of adoration in his eyes.

Grinning over at Spencer, you nod in agreement with her, “Yeah, it is a good thing.”

[changetyre]

Hold this Papa

SUMMARY: While facing symptoms of your most recent pregnancy Max is tasked with looking after your youngest daughter while on a meeting. Part of the Verstappen Family Verse

WARNINGS: Crack, fluffiness, pregnancy sickness

A/N: Happy Halloween! Enjoy.

"Max don't worry I can-" You were cut off by your wave of nausea forced to take deep breaths in order not to throw up right then and there. 

"Baby, stop it's fine. I can watch her, they'll understand." Max insisted. 

Today Max had an important Zoom meeting with his management team and other team bosses who had been making Max offers which he'd be a fool not to at least listen to. Lea was out with her uncle Lando who'd offered to take her for the day and you were going to stay with Lea and have a girl's day. 

That was until you woke up with the worst nausea of your pregnancy so far. You'd woken up immediately throwing up and had failed to keep much food down all morning. Max offered to cancel everything and take you to the hospital but you knew how important this meeting was and told him you could go after if it was still this bad. 

Max reluctantly accepted but he still knew you wouldn't be able to look after Ivy properly with the state you were in and he very much preferred if you could focus on trying to hydrate and keep some food down for now.

"Hmm I think it's getting better, I haven't thrown up that apple slice I had 10 minutes ago." You commented as the nausea somewhat passed. 

"That's good but I'm still taking Ivy." Max kissed your cheek before walking away needing to hurry for his meeting in 2 minutes. 

"Fine. But if she's too much trouble just send me a text and I'll come grab her." You hollered as he walked out. 

"Okay," Max yelled back before picking Ivy up from the living room where she had been playing and taking her inside his office which was still big enough for Ivy to remain entertained as he had brought in a few of her toys as well. "Okay, Ivy stay in here okay? Papa's going to be on a phone call so we have to be quiet but if you need something come to whisper to me okay." Max explained to his daughter. 

"Okay, papa." Ivy giggled not fully grasping the instructions but already too entertained with a toy she'd picked up from the floor. 

Max smiled kissing his daughter's head before walking over to his desk where he quickly connected to his Zoom call. 

"Morning Max, how's y/n doing?" Raymond, Max's manager who had been alerted of the possible disruptions asked. 

"Morning, uh, still feeling pretty poorly but she's putting a brave face on for me at the moment." Max answered polity. 

"Papa." Max heard the hushed voice of his daughter beside him looking down to see her handing him a Barbie doll.

"Thank you, Ivy." Max took it from her quickly muting himself as the meeting began. Ivy ran away happily. 

Max locked his focus into the meeting as soon as crucial information began to play out, taking a small notebook out he jotted down important points and questions he might have to discuss at the end so apart from a few glances to check his daughter wasn't in actual danger Max didn't fully process what his daughter was getting up to. 

"Papa hold this." Ivy ran back to Max handing him a wooden block which Max took and placed on his lap alongside the barbie he'd been previously given. 

"To be fully honest with you I care about the car, I need a good car and right now, dismissing the last few races, RedBull has given me a good consistent car, what are your guarantees?" Max asked. 

"Hold this papa." Ivy had once again run over to Max handing him a coloring book. Max took it without question looking down and noticing a variety of toys on his lap he had no recollection of receiving.

Looking back to the meeting he noticed Raymond struggling to keep a straight face as Ivy once again walked into the frame handing Max a tiara. "Put it on papa," Ivy whined when Max simply added it to the array of toys on his lap. 

"Shh okay Ivy." Max accepted not wanting to upset his daughter further putting the tiara on his head. 

"Looking good Max." Everyone collectively laughed in the meeting. 

"Just girl dad things." Max laughed with them. 

Luckily Ivy seemed to entertain herself with this for most of the meeting simply filling Max's lap with things as well as handing him things to wear but it also seemed to tire her out. Just as the meeting was wrapping up Ivy walked over to her dad once more. 

"Papa up." Ivy whined. 

Max happily picked up his daughter letting everything on his lap fall to the floor to set her down on his lap. "I'm almost done, Ivy." Max kissed his daughter's cheek as she wrapped her small arms around his neck resting her head on his chest. 

"Papa I miss mommy." Ivy sighed. 

"I know baby I miss her too, I'm almost done." Max rubbed his daughter's back soothingly. 

It didn't take much longer for the meeting to finally end but once it did Max looked down to see his daughter fast asleep in his arms.  

Walking back outside with Ivy in his arms he was relieved to find you in the kitchen having a proper meal which looked to be almost done. "How are you feeling my love?" Max asked you. 

"Aww my sweet baby." You first acknowledged your sleeping daughter giving her back a rub before answering Max. "Much better, I had a smoothie before this and managed to keep it all down." 

"That's great schatje." Max leaned down to kiss you. "Let me put Ivy in her bed then we can cuddle for a bit." 

"Sounds perfect." You smiled happily. "No more vomiting please." You spoke down to your bump jokingly. 

Despite the harder pregnancy, everything was perfect. 

[ambivalence-is-me]

The Lost Princess

Pairing: Azriel x reader

Summary: Your life drastically changes after meeting Feyre. You don’t know how to help, you don’t know much of anything really so, how is your life going to be now? In a city you didn’t know existed with people you thought you hated.

Word count: 3.7k

Warnings: manipulation, perhaps some self-loathing issues, slow burn. This is just like a prologue of their first impressions of each other.

A/N: this is HEAVILY inspired by Glinda from Wicked. I’ve been obsessed ever since I saw it. I wanted that sort of superficial clueless character vibe and this came out. I’ve got so many other ideas so just hear me out okay lol

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

You were a fool. A useless fool...and they knew that.

But you didn't want to be one. No, you wanted needed to prove you weren’t a fool. Prove it to them and to yourself.

It wasn’t your fault, even if they didn’t know it but you knew that it wasn’t your fault you had been so...lost.

They didn’t know about all the lies and manipulation you’ve gone through at the hands of your brother.

Your brother, who was probably the one male after the King of Hybern that was so hated, the Inner Circle’s number two enemy..Tamlin.

Let’s backtrack a little...

You are nothing like Tamlin, personality and physically speaking. The only trait you two seemed to share is the shade of green eyes. Hair, facial features, even height, seemed to set you apart from him. And you’ve never been more thankful for it.

Personality wise, while Tamlin seemed to damper every path and flower he passed, you had the opposite effect. A true daughter princess of Spring. You were bubbly, carefree, perky and just so full of life. It had annoyed Feyre at the start. She met you a few days after she had been taken from the mortal lands and forced to live at the Manor. You seemed to appear out of freaking nowhere in a pink dress, small tiara on top of your head and on your face a mask that seemed to be of a dove, beautiful white and gold interlaced throughout it. It was all sunshine and rainbows as if you had come down in a freaking bubble or something.

It irritated Feyre how you walked around and interacted with everyone with such joy when everyone else, especially her, seemed to be on high alert and tense but that tension seemed to leave whenever your presence was by. Feyre couldn’t get any answers from you whenever you conversed. She wanted to know everything about the fae lands, including how to get out, anything but you just didn't know. And later you both learned that it hadn't been Amarantha’s fault but your brothers’.

During Amarantha’s reign you had lived in a bubble (methaphorically speaking). You couldn't remember why one day you woke up wearing a mask, one you couldnt get rid of or even think about why you were wearing it. You didn’t know who was the evil red female who had proclaimed herself High Queen of Prythian or what she had done to all the lands and its people. Nor did you know of your father’s involvement in killing Rhysand’s family and especially didn’t know how he (and your mother and brothers) had been murdered by Rhysand’s father. All of this had gone underperceived by you for decades.

Truthfully, you weren't even supposed to be alive but were meant to suffer your mother’s fate at the hands of Rhysand’s father. And after learning the truth and re-meeting Rhysand properly, looking at the pain and grief hidden behind his violet eyes, you knew it too.

Tamlin, seemingly perceptive of what was coming after what his father had done to Rhysand’s mother and sister, suggested to your father to send you away, hide you far away where they couldn’t find and murder you. It had worked but you couldn't remember where you had been or with who, that part of your life was as if never happened.

After becoming High Lord and Amarantha starting her advances, he went even further to secure your protection and took you somewhere where he knew the sort of people who lived there would help him make sure that you followed every word and instruction he gave. He had them put a spell on you, he had cursed you.

Cursed to forget about the death of your family, cursed to overlooked Amarantha, cursed dismiss the danger they lived in, cursed to believe and follow every word he said, cursed to refrain from thinking too much, to question things, cursed to be clueless. For years.

Feyre thought it was an act. How you looked at everything so positively and nothing could go wrong but then she knew that it wasn’t.

It was never an act, you truly were clueless, but it wasn’t your fault. You were just another one of Tamlin’s victims.

Thats why Feyre gave you a chance. Besides the fact that everything seemed to go over your head, you are a nice, caring, empathetic female. After she was Made, Feyre gravitated more towards you, preferred your company over Ianthe's, sought you out after arguing with Tamlin or Lucien and while you never understood what she had gone through, the trauma and burden she carried (because of the curse), you never turned her away.

Tamlin had noticed how deep your friendship had gotten. And since he knew Feyre was to be taken away at one point by Rhysand because of that stupid bargain, he knew he had to turn you against Rhysand so you could in turn continue to feed into Feyre’s apprehension of the High Lord of the Night Court. How did he do that? He told you the truth...well, some of it.

He revealed the death of your family. He emphasized how merciless it had been and how Rhysand was the only one to blame.

You cried...for hours you wept and screamed. Your mother, your beautiful mother was dead all this time. You had thought she was off in another court with your father accompanying him with some lord duties but instead she had been murdered in cold blood, and you didn't even know.

Feyre knew then that she much preferred to see you smiling and laughing than to see you so heartbroken, to hear your cries was devastating.

And Tamlin had succeeded.

You became so incredibly fearful of the Night Court’s High Lord that you begged Feyre to break the bargain, to never look his way, to hate the cruel and soulless male who had taken your family away from you. And in return, Feyre had hated Rhysand, hated him so much for making you cry, for dimming your light. She also had fallen under Tamlin’s trap. But of course, that all changed.

It changed when it didn't get any better for Feyre, when Tamlin’s actions were feeding into her pain, when he locked her inside the Manor. You of course had no idea he had done this; you didn't even recall when Morr had rescued her. You heard the explosion and when you arrived at the scene, Feyre was already gone. Tamlin had been furious and told you Rhysand was to blame, that he had kidnapped your friend and that he had to find and bring her back.

You, of course thanks to the curse, believed him and you were extremely worried for her. Fear ran through your body and you prayed everyday to the Mother that no harm would come to her, that she weren’t suffering your mother’s fate.

Months passed and you remained none the wiser to what was happening outside the Manor’s walls. Whispers of war roomed the halls, some kind of Hybern involved, you hardly saw your stressed brother. Lucien being the one to accompany you at times for dinner. But he never revealed anything, of the war, of Feyre and you continued to stay clueless and out of the loop.

It wasn’t like you didn't want to know or that you didn't try. You did, you tried to ask around, to the servants, the sentries, but they all knew the spell you were under and knew better than to reveal anything Tamlin didn't want you to know. And you hated it. You felt so frustrated that you were doing meaningless things around the Manor while your friend, your only friend, was off in another court probably being tortured and you weren't doing anything to help her. After Tamlin had popped part of your bubble, you felt the need to be more hands on but you just didn't know where to start. At one point, you tried writing down the whispers you heard, along with questions you had, or any information obtained, and you tried to piece it all together by yourself. But nothing made sense. Nothing would continue to make sense when your brother had the power to take knowledge away from you.

Everything started to change for you with Feyre’s return. You were delighted that she was back, that your brother had rescued her from the Night Court. You hugged her so hard that for a second Feyre had forgotten her plan to ruin Tamlin. She remembered all the time both spent together, remembered and felt the care you had for her. And it was then that she knew that somehow she had to convince you to run away with her, to help you ruin your brother. After all of the things she went through in Velaris, all the knowledge and new perspective she gained, Feyre recognized you to be another prey fallen into Tamlin’s claws.

And you needed to get out. But by then, she didn’t know of the curse that was befallen on you. All she knew is that you believed every little word Tamlin uttered, that you blindly followed his every instruction, and she couldn't believe how she had never pieced the pieces together before. So, with more conviction than ever, under the wards and glamours in her bedroom at the Manor, Feyre told you everything. Of Amarantha's curse, what your family had done to Rhysand, what Tamlin did to her, of Velaris and the Inner Circle, Hybern, her mating bond, her sisters being Made and even of her plans to destroy the Spring Court. Slowly, Feyre took off the blindfold that had been forcedly put on you for decades. She talked and you listened, tears running down your face, for hours. Well into the night and again when the sun came up.

It was extremely difficult to believe her. How could you? When everything she was saying went against everything your brother had told you. Feyre knew that risk, that you wouldn't believe her but she held nothing back. She answered all your questions, worries and even hugged you.

You promised Feyre you wouldn't tell a word to anyone of what she had expressed. And you kept that promise but it didn't mean that you still full heartedly believed her. You wanted to, something inside you was screaming that it was the truth and that you had been an idiot to believe Tamlin.

But you couldn't understand, if Feyre was telling the truth then, why Tamlin had lied? Why had he kept so much from you? Tamlin, your older brother who fiercely protected you when you were a child, would read to you at nights, played with you, gave you attention when the rest of your brothers only ignored you. He was your favorite brother, your first hero, the first male you had told ‘’I love you’’ too. How can you change this image you have of him so fast when for all of your life he had been your rock? How can someone who claimed to love you do the complete opposite of love? You couldn't understand.

But then you remembered he lied about your family’s death, kept that from you. And using the same train of thought then that means, yes he could have hid so much more from you. And before making any decision in regards to following Feyre, you tried, just one more time, to get information out of your brother.

You asked him one question ‘’How did you find Feyre?’’.

He had looked up at you and said : ‘’It doesn’t matter. All that matters is that she’s here now and that she’s safe. Keep her company and help in whatever she needs. You will do that right, sister?’’.

The spell made you nod without you even being aware that you were nodding and replied ‘’Of course, brother. I will help Feyre with anything she needs.’’

He smiled and dismissed you.

That did it for you. You couldn't explain why you had accepted his truth so fast, why you didn't question him further, why your mind seemed to be battling itself. It was maddening.

And so, you agreed to be part of Feyre’s plan to run away. She told you she was to accompany Lucien, the twins and Jurian to the forest. As per usual, you were expected to stay in the Manor while everyone did, well, everything else. But this time, when everyone left, you were to grab a bag with essentials and leave. Feyre pointed out a meeting spot where you were to wait for her there and then continue the path to the Night Court.

It was the most terrifying thing you had ever done.

‘’What about my guard?’’ You asked her, worried about your escape since Tamlin had appointed a sentry to be your guard whenever he or Lucien weren't in the Manor.

‘’I’ll take care of it. Just meet me there and wait. No matter what you hear, wait for me there. I will come find you, I promise’’.

And she had been right. Whatever she had done to your guard well, she took care of it since there didn't seem to be any near you, making your exit far smoother than you expected. Even if inside you were terrified, every neuron in your brain screamed at you to go back inside the Manor and wait for Tamlin. But you pushed through, for Cauldron’s sake did you push through. Every step away from the Manor, from Tamlin seemed to weigh a thousand pounds, making it hard for you to continue, as if there was an invisible force trying to pull you back (the curse).

When you made it to the meeting point you cried. You were feeling an immense amount of fear of this new life you were heading towards to. You were also feeling proud of yourself for committing and making it there but then the fear came back when hours went by and there was no sign of Feyre. You waited, just like you said, no matter if you were terrified of being alone in the woods. In the same woods you now knew ran part of Amarantha’s creatures. You were honest to the Mother about to piss yourself out of fear when you heard her. Feyre, she was coming. And she was not alone.

Lucien ran with her and they both looked worse for wear. You barely managed to speak when she grabbed your hands and urged you to run, tagging you along with them. You saw Lucien’s expression; he was probably confused by your involvement in all of this and he was worried of what would happen to you since he knew of the limitations of the curse. And yet, he stayed quiet and ran along with you both.

It was extremely hard for you to keep along with them. They were fighters, they were fit, they’ve been in battle before, but not you. You were just..well...a princess. You knew nothing of survival or fighting skills and they all knew that but they also knew they couldn't stop if they wanted to stay alive, to fulfill Feyre’s plans.

And made it you had.

With some great trouble along the way involving Lucien’s brothers but thankfully two Illyrian soldiers quite literally fell from the sky and rescued the three of you out of there.

Azriel and Cassian, Feyre had introduced.

And you of course took one look at them and nearly fainted. You were trying so hard not to show your fear but knew you were failing spectacularly. You’ve heard of their kind, from your father and Tamlin, of how ruthless they were, how they had no respect for females and enjoyed tearing them apart. But no, Feyre trusted them, had expressed there was nothing to fear, that they wouldn't harm you. And while everything inside you that was holding you back in Spring was telling you that it was a lie, you tried and believed her.

And now here you were. In this city you’ve never heard of, in a court where only bad things have been said, with only two other faes you knew, surrounded by others who apparently aren't evil at all. After all, in their eyes, you were the evil one, you were the villain in their story.

You met them all, the inner circle and they all stared at you. It was clear that they didn't trust you nor Lucien. But the way they treated you was different. With you it was like they didn't know how to treat you, as if they didn't know what to do with you. And well, you didn't know what to do with you either.

You were a fool, a useless fool.

They figured that out the moment Morrigan began asking questions and all you did was stare at her, mouth a bit open. Because of course, you didn't know the answer to any of her questions and you could see they were growing exasperated with you.

They all showed it differently. Rhysand hadn't met your eye once since you’ve been in the room, his jaw firm and looking anywhere else but you. The Morrigan vividly rolled her eyes at you and instead moved her attentions to Lucien. A smaller female than you with silver glowing eyes had taken one look at you and shook her head. Cassian, the big male with long hair and red jewels, was openly glaring and eyeing Lucien with distaste. And then, Azriel.

The most handsome male you’ve ever seen in all your life. While Rhysand and Cassian were also handsome, Azriel was a different type of handsome. One you couldn't quite explain. The best way your heart could capture it was by thinking that he was like the prince you always thought you’d end up married to. The handsome male described in those romance books you read. The one you hoped had a dazzling personality you longed for, to swept you off your feet and leave you breathless. And he did definitely leave you breathless but not in the way a female wants.

Right off the bat you’ve noticed that Azriel was quiet, the quietest of them all. He seemed to be analyzing everything, blending into the shadows that followed his every breath. And although he hadn't spoken your way once, his body language screamed that he wanted nothing to do with you.

And that hurt.

These people didn't owe you anything. On the contrary, you were the one invading their home, their safe space, you were the enemy so the least you could do is...what? Exactly what were you expected to do?

This only seemed to aggravate you further.

They don't know you, they don't know your heart, quite frankly besides existing, you’ve done nothing to harm any of them. Your hands and your heart were clean. And you didn't know this but that is exactly why Azriel, Rhysand and the rest had a hard time looking your way and accepting you.

You’ve done nothing. While they’ve gone through hell and back, what have you done? In their minds, you’re just a perfect little princess that can do no wrong.

And were they? Were they wrong? They weren't. Tamlin made sure you stayed pure, innocent, protected from danger so that you didn't need to lift a finger if you ever needed anything. But that was it, all your life had been dictated by someone else. Your thoughts, opinions and ideals were implanted by Tamlin.

It was time to start thinking of your own, to start creating a life of your own without Tamlin’s influence.

Without his curse.

The curse that only Lucien knew the existence and Feyre suspected of.

It was time to start battling everything you’ve been taught and fight for what you want. While you still needed to figure out what exactly it is that you want, you were going to do it. It was time to prove to yourself and to these new people that you were capable of more, of being more than just a foolish lost princess.

How were you going to do it? You had no idea, but you hope that the beautiful male with hazel eyes and scarred hands would wait long enough for you to give you a chance or perhaps, he could be the one to help you.

[windsorcourt]

HOLY SHIIIIIIT

British Royal Family - The Princess of Wales as she arrives to attend the South Korea State Banquet at Buckingham Palace | November 21, 2023

[cute-sucker]

babysitting the sweetheart (part one-series)

[01.04.2024]

note: i wrote this a while ago, and it will be a series!! i have the plot figured out so it will be very very fluffy. (ask to be tagged btw!!) words: 1.3k summary: you're new to town, enjoying a coffee when rafe cameron's little daughter approaches you. you'll be fine...right?

part one

quite honestly going to the normal coffee place you went to every morning was supposed to be comforting. it wasn't supposed to be the place to be attacked by a 5 year old, and it was definitely not the place where you felt like you were going to die of fear. 

a very cute five-year-old at that, with pigtails and big blue eyes. she bounced up and down, with a big wobbly smile on her face. she had a pink princess dress on and a tiara that was bound to fall. 

you were mid-bite before she caught your hand. 

"can i have some? please, please, please," she pleaded to you. you choked on your hot coffee and watched struggle to her plop herself onto one of the high chairs. 

you searched for her parents, and then gave her a small tentative smile, before gently asking the question that was on your mind. 

"honey, where are your parents?" 

she quickly wilted, and you swore there were tears in her eyes, 

"i can't find my daddy. he told me not to go far but i didn't listen and now i might never find my daddy," she gasped out quickly. 

now you were alert, gritting your teeth and searching your surroundings. your few months in kildare had been nice, and it was the best place to rest and take some time off. but everything was so goddamn expensive. you'd never lived so lavishly, wearing the same clothes for weeks on end. 

this was supposed to be your new start, as you cleaned tables at night, and tried to write music during the day. you had always wanted to be an artist, and the beachy waves and cool lemonade persuaded you to continue. 

but with this little girl in front of you, you felt panicked. you turned around to look around once again before you set your eyes on her - she was sobbing, clutching her necklace that had the initial 'r,' on it. 

fat tears rolled down her face, and before you knew it you were carrying her off, embracing her in your arms and buying her two marshmallow cupcakes.

 honestly, the barista was nicer to her than he was ever nice to you. 

you made sure to tease him about that later, but now you had other things on your mind. 

"so what does he look like?" you asked her again. 

she pouted and let out a cry. then she got up, wiping her tears before stretching her arm in the air.

 "wee tall, and this big, and he's my daddy." 

"it's okay!" you said quickly, cursing yourself for asking the little five-year-old. "we'll find him, you couldn't have gone that far-" 

"wait! that's my daddy, it's him-" and then jumped out of his arm to the shadowy figure behind you. 

"i-" 

the figure picked her up, clutching her tightly. he was drop-dead gorgeous. you wondered how a man could be damn hot. with broad shoulders, dirty blonde buzzed hair and blue eyes that had an unhealthy hold on you. 

one, he was young to be a father, two he was pissed. 

the owner of the cafe suddenly burst out of the kitchen, "mr. cameron! what a delight to have you here. let me show you around-"

yet, he completely ignored him, kissing her daughter, and then looked up at you. he gave you a look that you'd given a mosquito.

"who the hell are you?" he seethed through gritted teeth, eyes set on your face. you felt beads of sweat drip down your forehead. okay, okay, calm down. 

"hey, listen-" 

"daddy!"

he stopped in his tracks, to look down at the little girl. he smiled at her softly, gently tracing her face. 

"hey love, where did you go? you know you should go off on your own," he told her gently, brushing away her stray hairs. he looked as if she was his whole world. she gave him a giddy smile and then pointed at the cupcake you had given you. 

her cheeks were full like chipmunks, and she looked way too adorable. 

"she saved me." 

suddenly he peered up at you, eyes squinted with an emotion you couldn't figure out. but then he went cold, giving you a small nod. 

you felt shivers travel all the way down to your spine. 

you felt like you should have known him because he had this aura. that he was important, and something in you wanted to please him. to make him happy, but you knew there was no winning with him. 

you were so lost in his eyes, that you noticed the strange look he was giving you. 

"thank you, ms-?" he prompted, his voice cold as ice. 

"uh, [last name]," you stammered out, feeling a bit off balance under his piercing gaze.

"well, thank you for looking after my daughter," he said, his voice softening slightly as he shifted his attention back to the little girl in his arms.

then he turned away, with his little girl nestled near his chest. while they turned around, she furiously waved at you, blowing air kisses. you found yourself smiling uncontrollably. 

your coffee was cold by the time you got to it. 

x

you scooted into your job, working at the local convenient job was embarrassing. it took hours for anything to happen, and the pay...

the pay was horrible! 

"it's time for your shift," jared commented, scrolling through his phone. he was a total tool who worked at the store to learn "life skills." his parents lived on figure eight, and were loaded. 

you trudged out there and found yourself at the cashier. 

"hi, ms. carrera!" you found yourself saying, serving your customers. 

the hours passed and you lay in the break room to rest. 

jared was still on his phone. here you were again, life sucked, and your phone was ringing. you got up, looking at the cracked screen. 

you had dropped it at least a million times. 

it was an unknown number, but who knew? you picked it up anyways. 

"hello?" 

"i'm going to pay you 10k a month." 

you stared dumbly into the phone and then started laughing. 

"uh huh, and get me the newest phone right?

"if that's what it takes." 

you found yourself giggling now, balancing the phone on your shoulder as you opened yourself some ice cream. 

"i'm sorry, who is this?" you asked while juggling your ice cream on your lap. you noticed that jared was watching you. 

"rafe cameron. you found my daughter the other day. i'd like to offer you a deal." he said, voice muffled. 

his tone was sharp was ever, but you could hear the knowing smirk, and that made you want to roll your eyes. but there was something about that low voice that made you shiver. 

"so...mr. cameron, what is 10k a month about?" you murmured into your phone and began to chip away at the ice cream. it was way cold, and your spoon nearly bent as you tried to scoop it into your mouth. 

"babysit my daughter lucy. if she's trouble, which i expect she will be," he laughed into the phone, "i'll double it." 

you could barely what you were hearing. he had to shitting you. 

"how about 15k and the phone?" you pressed, trying not to giggle. he was going to end the call now, you could feel it. 

"fine. i'll send the times and the address." 

it was here he hung the call. 

holy shit!

[sourpatchys]

— —

Girl dad!Logan, absolutely pissing his pants at the thought of being an actual father and not just a friendly face to a few kids who need a role model

Girl dad!Logan, who legitimately cries the first time you get an ultrasound, having no idea if it’s from nerves or just being completely overwhelmed

Girl dad!Logan, who’s 10x grumpier than you are throughout your entire pregnancy from being on high alert to any potential dangers

Girl dad!Logan, who can hear your daughters heart beat whenever he puts his ear on your stomach because of his heightened senses

Girl dad!Logan, who’s developed nesting habits to keep you comfortable; wanting you to have a completely stress free pregnancy

Girl dad!Logan, who secretly reads parenting and baby books because he’s too embarrassed to ask for advice

Girl dad!Logan, being weirdly protective and gentle, borderline refusing to hold your baby girl for the first few weeks of her life because he’s afraid of hurting her somehow

Girl dad!Logan, who, once he gets comfortable enough to hold his little ray of sunshine, pretty much refuses to put her down for even a second

Girl dad!Logan, wearing a silly tiara— that’s way too small— to important, very serious, meetings with Charles

Girl dad!Logan, who keeps a folded up drawing, his daughter made of him, in his pants pocket wherever he goes

Girl dad!Logan, somehow becoming the, uncontested, master at getting your daughter to eat her vegetables

Girl dad!Logan, hooking up a sissy bar to his bike so his daughter can ride around with him without being scared

Girl dad!Logan, never being too proud to play dress up and always finishing the storyline of any playtime no matter how long it’s been

Girl dad!Logan, taking the time to understand any of his child’s fears, never forcefully pushing her outside of her comfort zone unless she feels brave enough to do it herself

Girl dad!Logan, who proudly displays a hello kitty sticker on his leather jacket

Girl dad!Logan, who will absolutely fight a 5 year old if necessary

[tiaramania]

TIARA ALERT: Serena Williams wore a gold floral headpiece by Lelet for the Met Gala at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City on 6 May 2024.

[purpled-royalty]

Gorgeous art as always! My sweet baby thank you so much Mai 🥺💕

Tiara🩵

🦋🦋🦋🦋

Oc belongs to my sis @purpled-royalty 🦋💜

[madamechrissy]

Silent Serenades- Part Nine preview

♔ An arranged Marriage with Duke Gojo ♔

SPOILER ALERT- do not read if you haven't read part eight!! Here Masterlist here

Satoru watches you light up then, as you hold that little girl in your arms, with the biggest smile on your lovely face, fuck it lights everything up, a sight he never thought he’d see near him. Not when he brought you so much pain before, so much so he detests himself for it, for clearly dimming this beautiful, bright soul you have with so much darkness.

You giggle as you hold onto the kid, playing with her ringlets, and the kid grins so big back at you. “You so bootiful Dushess!” She speaks, and even Satoru smiles, he can’t help it, the kid is so genuine, and you’re so adorable with her.

“Me, beautiful, oh thank you, but you are such a beautiful Princess!” You say to her, and then you take off that little blue tiara you have, putting it on her little head as you sit her down on the ground. The little girl lights up, running to Satoru then, tugging at his lapels.

“I is a Pwincess!” She says with a big smile, and Satoru can’t stop his chuckle, adjusting the tiara worth far too much to be play, but then he notices you watching him, smiling at him so big, nodding.

God you’re beautiful.

You’re just glowing as you whisper - “tell her she is one”

Satoru sighs, leaning down on his haunches now. “You are indeed a true Princess, look at you! Can you twirl?”

“Twirl? Hmm!” She spins and he laughs, then takes her tiny little hand in his, spinning her instead, and she giggles like crazy, then Satoru looks at you, your hand on your chest, your eyes glassy as you smile.

“There, Princesses twirl like that. Let me show you with the Duchess. May I, my lady?” Satoru walks to you and bows at the waist, you blush so pretty as you give him a delicate curtsey.

“Indeed, you may, Prince Gojo.” She teases, winking at the little girl, who is bouncing up and down, as other kids come up with their parents, smiling at you both. Satoru takes your little hand in his big one, the other on your waist, realizing for once you are wearing short stays and not a corset, and he can feel your waist.

He has to take a breath for a moment, as he spins you, and then looks at the children with a smirk. “We need music!”

“Oh, let me sing!” One of the little kids says, and then they are all singing together, quite horribly, making you giggle as you look up at Satoru, and fuck you take his breath away.

Could you ever forgive him, care for him, stay with him?

The thought of you leaving makes his chest hurt so bad it’s like someone is ripping his heart out, to know he pushed you right into the arms of another, he hates himself for it. He wants so badly to know you, and he loves what he’s learned today, that you would be the best mother in the world. That you light up around children.

Perhaps your baker would give you those, and Satoru cares enough to let you, but for a heartstopping moment as you dance in his arms, in the middle of a poor little village with kids singing, he wonders if he’d change his vow to not have an heir, if only it was with you. If only you would stay, he would do anything for you now, anything to keep this smile.

He knows he has next to no chance, he knows he’s only beginning to repair anything, but you make him want to dream of it, make him want to try. As he dips you over his arm, and whispers against your ear - “A pretend kiss, Duchess?”

“You’re such a cad.” You whisper back, as he leans you back up to stand, eyeing your beautiful lips.

“For the children!?” He whispers, looking at them, then at you, and you sigh, looking up at him and nodding with a little smile.

“For them.” Satoru cups your face and plants a sweet, chaste kiss on your lips, and everyone is cheering.

“Royalty!”

“So in love!”

“So romantic!”

It’s not true, you’re doing this because he’s got you in an arrangement, because he’s trying his best to hold onto you, to just get a little bit of your attention and time before you slip through his fingers. But he feels you tremble in his arms, your arms wrap around his neck, and when you pull back you are flushed, smiling shyly, before you compose yourself and grin at the onlookers.

After you all had moved on and were walking back to the carriage, Satoru takes your hand, and you pause, before removing it, looking up at him. He sighs, his own hand at his side, as he burns for you, for your affection, something he pushed and pushed away. You sigh then, as you all get to the carriage, and look up at him, taking his hand.

You make his heart falter.

“Sorry, you’re trying to be so much kinder, I do appreciate it. But I’m too afraid, that it’s a lie, that I will lose someone who loves me because I will be foolish.” Satoru nods then, thinking of that man on you, swallowing down the sickness.

“I have one thing to say. If you would let me.” You take a breath, nodding then, and he cups your cheek, looking down at you, and feeling you tense, biting your lower lip. “I wish that was our first kiss.”

Tears form in your glittering eyes, as you suck in a breath now, looking away and your lip trembles. You shake your head, and Satoru’s heart is pounding, he’s never vulnerable, he’s so terrified, will you shoot him down, and how will he react? He’s so fucking scared…

“I wish that was our first kiss too.” You say finally, and he gasps, as you then turn away, and his hand touches your waist gently, helping you up into the carriage. He comes to sit next to you and you take his hand again, carefully with a small smile. “I wish we… well I guess it…”

“Yes. I agree.” You pull away but he pulls it back, and your eyes lock, the breaths loud in the carriage as it rocks gently. “I know you’re leaving me, but could I please enjoy this while I can?”

“Enjoy my hand?”

“Yes.”

You nod then, pulling back and taking off your glove, smiling as you hold his hand so carefully, now bare, your skin against his making him yearn ever more. “You mean like this?”

“Yes. Thank you.” He murmurs, holding your little hand, and you nod just a bit, as the sunlight filters through the carriage blinds, and Satoru thinks for once, maybe he could open up, he could try even if it’s going to end in his own pain. Even if you’re too far gone, he cannot give up. He has to try for you.

Coming next week, dear Masochistic readers <3

[pixeechix21]

Halloween Hunt

ghostface x fem!reader

TW: knife play, primal, mask kink, chasing, rough sex, vulgar words, choking, blood play (v. minor dw), smut, alcohol mentioning, unprotected, p in v, scare/fear kink, hunted, v. rough

WC:1461

Pt2

Halloween night:

The pink bag stares at you, laying on your duvet covers. Your foot is nervously going up and down. you r at a safe distance watching it you hadn’t opened it yet, too scared to do it. Come on y/n just do it, like it's going to be Jason’s hand or head. Wait, could it? You urge yourself to open the delicate pink bag. It’d be best to open it just to make sure it’s not, you go on. Then you go for it knowing you’d just spiral in your own thoughts. The tissue paper is put to the side and inside the bag you pull out a beautiful silk and lace pink dress. It was smooth as you put it on your body. Trying it on it fit perfectly, almost as if it was tailored just for your body.

If I was going to be his princess I’ll show him just how much I can be. You rummage through your messy dorm and combine random pieces to make your costume whole: white sparkly heels, fairy wings, and a tiara. “Wow! You look like a magical fairy princess queen!” your bestie exclaims barging into your room, leaving the door open. 

You twirl happily, “thank you… what are you meant to be?” You look at her slip-dress with the picture of some old white man. 

“A Freudian slip,” my dorm neighbor stops in the hallway. Both of us look stunned at the intrusion of the stranger. “Oh my god! That’s right!” your friend claps happily. 

You both leave your room passing the bottle back and forth heading to Devin’s frat house on the edge of the campus. 

Once you get there you’re on alert suddenly remembering the game. A couple bros try to feel you up as you’re both dancing in the sweaty crowd. Sheila pushes them off shouting, “trust me you didn’t need a mask you’re already scary and ugly normally,” you laugh together, watching not to spill your drinks. 

You feel disappointed not having spotted him yet. The anticipation building. You forget how many hours pass but then everything changes. You're feeling hot and shout to your friend that you need air. Stumbling and pushing past the masses, you look up from your feet. You almost shit yourself at him standing there looking at you. There is a small pose of girls surrounding him, but he looks only at you and you can just imagine him smiling devilishly. Those girls don’t even know what their fucking with. 

You reach outside, puffing out a breath of steamy air. The game is on, he spotted you. You need to run, to hide, don’t get caught. Looking left and right you sprint straight to the edge of campus and out into the woods, following the path. Thank God for the years of pageant training and running from the cops in unstable shoes. 

Footsteps are following you, determined. Your arms are swinging and your legs are burning as you run as fast as you can. The cold nipped at your face, causing the whipping of the branches to sting ferociously. You turn left abruptly and hide behind a large oak tree. This time it’s your own hand gripping your mouth shut, so he can’t hear you. The footsteps slow down, he’s searching for you. 

“Aww I was having so much fun,” he complains, “I won't hurt you I swear. Well not unless you beg for it,” he says out into the dark. He slowly passes you, and you see the back of him, thinking you're safe. You hold a nearby stick and lunge out of your hiding place, screaming. You're on top of him bringing down your stick. He catches your hand and you release it from the pain. He flips both of you over, his hand holding both of yours over your head. “You’re so pretty when you’re angry,” he says, trailing his knife down the side of your face, following your jawline, finishing with the point tilting your heads to look up at him. “You stole my coffee asshole!” you bite out. His chuckle is endearing. As he comes close to your face you wish you could see his eyes, or even his smile. 

You struggle under him as the cold sets in. Your chest rises and falls in shallow breaths as his knife touches your thong. You clench in anticipation, you can hear his breaths rapidly and the feeling of his hands holding you tightly. His hand feels your wetness through the thin layer. He starts ever so delicately circling your clit, making your hips push up to meet his fingers. He lets go of your hands and pushes your hips back down to the floor. “You have to be good if you want it,” he says gruffly, shaking his head. The torture goes on to the point where your stubbornness breaks down, “ple- fuck- please mr.gohstface,” you writhe desperately. 

“Say it louder,” he palms your clit harder, almost pushing to the edge.

“Please! I’m about to-” you shudder as you're blinded by your orgasm. His fingers continue working relentlessly, and you nearly cry as you come again. Taking out his fingers you sigh sadly not wanting it to be finished. 

“Open your mouth,” he demands, and you can feel his hardness pressing into your dripping cunt. You do as you're told and he puts two fingers in, you look up at him and suck them lightly. “You make a man go insane, you know that?” He says hungrily as he looks at his fingers being drawn out of your mouth.

 Longing for more, your hands grab his belt buckle and undo them. Your cold hands feel his cock, and he tenses his abs. He’s on knees and you sit up so that you’re face to face with him hard on. Working your hand up and down you give quick kisses through his boxers. Taking his dick out of the boxes lick the precum coming from the slit, dragging it gradually all the way across. He tosses his head back, trying to control himself as you go at your own pace. Your lips surround him and instantly his hand grips your head. You bob your head up and down, twirling your tongue tantalizing. You feel him grow harder and you pick to the pace. “Shit, just like that,” he groans out. Just as he is about to come, yanks your head back so that you look up at him, mouth open gasping for air. 

“Turn around on your knees,” he releases you and you turn over, your ass up. Normally you’d be self-conscious, but strangely you feel safe with him. “A fucking masterpiece,” he admires cutting off your panties with his knife point, skillfully. Everso slowly you stretch painfully as he puts in his tip. You moan feeling yourself become whole, fulfilled. Once his hips touch your ass you feel tears forming. Dragging himself out slowly back in the friction kills you. You try to ask for him to go faster, rougher, just more. He takes your hair and whispers, “say it. Tell me what you want, I'm at your command.”

 “More. Now.”

 “Anything for you princess,” and immediately his fingers dig into you and he slams into you. You yelp at the sudden movement. He goes on unrelentingly, your knees scrapping on the forest floor. You can hear him grunting with the impact. Your crying at the forces as you orgasms comes over you. “Fuck y/n,” he moans as you milk him. He grabs your hair once more, you arch your back more and he hits you. Lifted up, your head rests on his shoulder and his knife comes to your neck. You smile at the feeling of the horror and thrill coursing through you like an aphrodisiac. “Look at me as I come in you,” he bites out, fucking you to oblivion. He tenses and you feel him coming to you. He releases you and you fall to your hands. He takes out his dick and watches amusedly as his cum comes out of you. You sigh as he takes his fingers and pushes it back into you. 

“Go before I do something I shouldn’t.” he warns.

You run.

A month later:

You haven’t forgotten that night and every now and then you think you see those tattoos or hear his voice. You were sure you were crazy when during your first lecture on business psychology you saw him bent over talking to the seated professor. You know it’s him, just know it. He looks up as he goes on to walk away. Frozen like a statue, you gape as he walks to his seat in the far corner. Smiling knowingly, and winks placing a coffee cup on your seat desk.

[greenflamedwriter]

Imagine Harry transfigures as a snake and decides to sneak into Malfoy manor when Draco returns home for christmas/ and accidently alerts Voldemort who can hear him [parslemouth] BUT harry is like "I'm just a garden snake!" and Voldemort keeps Harry close and protects him Nagini [Who almost ate him which was why Voldemort noticed Harrys screaming in terror and YES he knows thats Harry he can hear his VOICE for gods sake]

So like a pet on a leash he keeps Harry close and plans a big reveal at Yule to transform Harry back but then he keeps changing his mind because the boy who lived is in his hand with his little tongue scenting the air- and he wants it to be public! He wants the order to see it! And yet, he knows the boy is following him for secrets to take back to the order but he always asks questions and Voldemort answers them Harry oblivious thinking he's tricked the snake and Voldemort just staring amused.

And both learn of the propechy and the secret that Harry is a horcrux is revealed which changes everything. And since this would be before Harry knew about the horcruxes would mention the destruction of the diary, the locket some thief stole that had a S on it and seeing a tiara at the room of requirment. Voldemort outside: Hmm what an adventurious little snake. Voldemort inside: *PANIC*

[the-empress-7]

My completely made-up tin-hat theory about the aquamarine ring is this -

Meghan was lent that aquamarine ring for her reception as something of Harry's mum (Diana) to wear for the big day, and also a sweet nod to something blue. I think William may have had a hand in this decision and it was mainly something nice he did for his brother. Meghan and her PR then ran with it and said she inherited the ring as Harry's wife. The products cycle around that was massive and may have put William and the BRF on high alert with the way Meghan was claiming to now own that ring. There may have been some difficulties getting that ring back from Meghan after that.

I've thought this because very soon after this, during the aus tour, there was an article (in the Times maybe?) that said William had banned Meghan from ever borrowing any BRF jewels. At the time I thought what was this decision based on? Apart from the wedding tiara Meghan had not been lent any other BRF jewels, except for Diana's aquamarine ring. So was there maybe some problem in getting that back from her?

Then she wore the blood diamond earings and made a big deal about how she owns them. And she wore them twice just to make a statement. So who was she making this statement for? The public didn't know the full story then. The staff didn't even know she was going to wear these, so why would she have travelled with those earings all the way to Australia? My guess was that she was showing the middle finger to whoever had said no to loaning her BRF or Diana jewels.

My guess is that because of Williams' position and him being the eldest son all her estate was inherited by William and not infact divided 50/50. When he turned 30, his sisters and brother (who had probably been the caretakers and keeping it at althorp) gave it to him.

Sometimes last year, karen Spencer said as much in her comments section on insta on a Diana related post.

Because of the provenance of her jewellery, it may have gone in bulkto William as part of the estate (ie , inheritance). Harry may have just inherited the money and trust fund. And some smaller keepsakes for sentimental reasons. He likely did not mind this earlier, but Meghan, once she got to know, took offence. But neither of them would say anything against the Spencers and what is likely a perfectly legally binding inheritance situation. .

Talk about stories that are a blast from the past! I think your aquamarine ring theory is pretty solid. If we know anything about Meghan, it's that if you give her an inch she will take a mile.

I do think William banning her from borrowing royal jewelry had to do with Tiara Gate and the appalling way she and Harry treated everyone as a result of it. Also remember that things went south very quickly after the wedding. By the time the Sucks left for ANZ, William had already started the process of kicking them out of the Royal Foundation. The stuff that we the public know, is just the tip of the iceberg.

If Meghan really did still have some of Diana's jewelry in her possession there is no way in hell that she wouldn't be wearing it all the damn time. Instead she is left cosplaying her outfits.