#Rotten Core AU

[mothsakura]

gonna do NSH and SRS later because my back hurts <//3 BUT HERE IS MOONIE.... I LOVE MOON.... she's so scrungly <3 .....

[2-b-flower]

au tags but uhhh idk 👉👈

[veryphi]

So like- Jason's eyes apparently turn lazarus pit green when experiencing pit rage.

Sleep deprived Tim Drake seeing it: That's so brat.

[alkalineleak]

@viv-weylin i drew using all ur brushes, been a hit since i did lineart

[descendantsfan03]

Descendants video edit that I made of my version of the Core 4 in my Descendants fanfic Legacy of Youth: Descendants Unleashed. In which Mal is only 4. I made it for Tik Tok so I had to use the sped up version. 💜💙

(All edits and pics are my personal family pictures and videos that I have permission to use.)

[whimsicalcotton]

making gf watch Descendants. cannot guarantee i won't be unwell over malvie/polycule core four within the next few hours

[sparrowmoth]

Carlos and the (...) No Good, Very Bad Day • [AO3]

Teen | 1.6K+ | Carlos-centric | Crack/Humor, Magical Accidents

A/N: You can read this as platonic Core Four or shippy OT4 or even Jaylos and Malvie if you squint. It's functionally a gen fic, but I don't care how you read it in terms of relationship dynamics, so be free!

CW: Some dark humour, swearing, and minor angst at the end of this chapter.

Chapter One: Escape Room (Fail)

Carlos De Vil would have his revenge—starting with Mal’s favourite pair of leather boots. Oh yes, he was coming for those boots. Just as soon as he figured out how to reach the doorknob in his current…

Predicament.

Carlos De Vil, you see, was not usually a puppy.

It is thus only because he weighs, at this moment, less than a pile of potatoes on a kitchen scale that he whines in frustration at the sky-scraping knob. His stupid little legs aren’t as springy as a rabbit’s and his stupid little arms are just another pair of, well… legs.

He knows somehow, someway that Mal is responsible.

He growls at the thought, but it’s embarrassingly squeaky, and that is all the more fuel on his fire for revenge. He won’t just chew on her boots, he’s going to pee on her bed—and eat her Valentine’s cho—

Wait, that might actually kill him.

Damn you, Mal.

He squints up at the doorknob, then turns to look behind him. He’s in his own dorm room—the one he shares with Jay; but Jay isn’t here and who knows when he’ll be back? He needs some sort of plan…

His eyes flick to his desk chair.

Maybe, he thinks, taking a bounding leap forward—just to trip on his own paws and go tumbling like a slinky, head over tail, over and over until he lands a little dizzy in a pile of sweaty laundry.

He whines in a way that translates to “fuck this.”

Then, he shakes off the shirt that’s gotten caught on his head, bares his teeth at the pile, and continues on his mission—only stumbling a little on his too-big little feet. He makes it to the desk chair, where he goes to grab it with his teeth and pull with all his might, but—

Nothing happens.

Except it’s… satisfying.

His puppy brain wants him to lay down, chew, forget all about—

VENGEANCE, Carlos barks—a fervent, high-pitched declaration to the dorm room and himself. So what if he’s trapped in a body with less brains than usual? Make no mistake, he’s still—

“Carlos? Jay…?”

There’s a soft knock at the door before the knob begins to turn.

Carlos perks up his ears and dashes under his bed, crouching down in the shadows to assess the opportunity. He lets out a small groan when he sees who it is: Chad Charming, of course, peeking in around the door like he’s the world’s worst Double 007.

“Anyone home?” asks Chad, stepping into the room.

He’s about to close the door, and Carlos can’t have that—

Rushing out from under the bed, he barks for Chad to stop, but Chad only starts screaming and falls back against the door. It closes with a slam that must be heard down the hall—if Chad’s screaming isn’t louder—and Carlos barks more in frustration, trying to yell—

He cuts off when a dress shoe goes whizzing past his snout.

“STAY BACK!” Chad screeches, contorting to pull off his other shoe with one hand, groping blindly for the door knob with the other. “I MEAN IT!” he insists, voice pitchy and quavering. “I’LL—I’LL—”

Thud.

His other shoe hits the bed frame, right behind Carlos.

Annoyed, Carlos growls—puppy teeth on full display. He advances on Chad, not so easily intimidated. This prince is soft. He can take him, even like this. That’s what he’s thinking as he stalks toward Chad, and it must show in his eyes, because Chad scrambles up.

He looks like a lost deer, gangly and stupid, searching desperately for escape from a pair of headlights. It’s laughable, really—

The way he sprints to the bathroom…

And comes out with the trashcan.

What is he doing?

Carlos yelps and tries to run, but trash is falling all around him. The next he knows is total darkness and this strangely… soothing smell. What is that? Oh, that’s Jay. He’d had a nosebleed, yeah, and—

Wait.

Carlos scrunches up his snout. He starts to claw at the walls of his prison. He can hear Chad talking, voice muffled but mocking, and oh, it’s more than his shoes in trouble when Carlos digs his way out through—the carpet, right. He growls and tries a new technique, putting all his weight against the wall of the can until—

He goes tumbling out in surprise, blinded by the light.

Laying there on his back in the mess of tissue paper and q-tips and empty toilet paper rolls, he sees Chad has backed away, looking sheepish—and Jay is stepping through into the dorm room.

Carlos rolls onto his feet and barks as if to say, HEY!

Jay freezes, noticing Carlos—or, well, from his perspective… the all-too-apparent puppy in a pile of garbage—and then, of course—

“Chad, dude, we talked about this.” He sighs. “Where’s Carlos?”

Carlos barks again, running forward to leap up Jay’s leg, using his thigh as a springboard to send him flying back in Chad’s direction.

Except, well, Jay catches him easily mid-flight, and a desperately wriggling Carlos finds himself unable to escape from the sandwich of Jay’s large, calloused palms, which is humiliating enough that Carlos seriously considers adding Jay’s shoes to his hit list—

He’s distracted from the thought, though, by the realization that Chad has been speaking, babbling something about he “doesn’t know where Carlos is,” but he’d only come in because “that thing” had been barking, and what do you know, he’d found “it” tearing up the trash, and “it better not have rabies, because it tried to bite me, and I’m in line for the throne, so if anything happens to me…”

Jay had nodded politely to the point he shut the door on Chad’s face, having shepherded him out while holding Carlos at arm’s length, trying to keep from getting scratched by flailing paws—

“Alright, alright, alright,” says Jay now, slowly crouching to the ground and letting Carlos down on his feet with a bemused look.

Carlos takes a few indignant steps backward, snarling at Jay.

“Feisty one,” Jay teases, offering a finger that is quickly bitten. He doesn’t flinch, since Carlos doesn’t manage to even break through the barrier of callouses. That only seems to amuse Jay as much as it pisses off Carlos, who tries with all his might to get another bite in.

Jay grabs him by the scruff and lets him struggle as he looks him up and down, which has Carlos whining in abject misery. He curls up his tail, squeezes his hind legs together, and looks sullenly at Jay until he’s set back on the ground, where he tries to bite him—

Again.

This time, Jay stands up, towering above him, and Carlos is left to gnaw angrily at his track shoes. He can hear Jay musing aloud to himself about “the puppy,” wondering if Carlos had managed to sneak him in last night or in the short time Jay was gone for his usual morning run. He doesn’t seem all that concerned.

And of course, why would he?

It wasn’t exactly unusual to find Carlos smuggling animals into the dorm, be it a puppy, duckling, squirrel—even a skunk once, which, yeah, that was the first and the last time for that particular species…

Gently, Jay tugs his laces out from Carlos’ jaws, bends to ruffle him between the ears, then goes to sit on the edge of his bed. He pulls his phone out and dials a number as Carlos watches, having plopped on his haunches with a defeated little huff.

Moments later, Carlos’ cellphone starts to vibrate.

Jay glances toward it, seeming surprised. He hangs up on his end and goes to inspect, lifting Carlos’ pillow to show his cellphone where it usually is—still plugged in from the night before.

“Weird,” Jay remarks, though clearly not worried.

Carlos groans, sinking onto his belly. He’s not giving up. He’s not. He’s just… tired. This body is soft and weak and pathetic and—

He perks his head up, curious.

Jay is calling someone else.

“Hey, princess, are you with Carlos? — Nah, like an hour ago, but he was still in bed. — Uh, well…” Jay shifts uncomfortably under “the puppy’s” unblinking stare. “I think Carlos stole another puppy or something. — A dalmatian, but it’s got all these brown spots…”

Carlos cranes his neck down to study his own legs, noting the brown spots speckled over white fur. He scrunches his snout at the thought of what his mother would think, seeing him like this. Would she… even want him, without “proper” spots? It shouldn’t bother him that he knows she wouldn’t. Ugh, why’s he thinking about this? It’s stupid.

“—soon,” Jay’s saying as his voice filters back in to Carlos’ attention.

He hangs up the phone and slips it back into his pocket, then looks at Carlos. “Evie’s on the way. You’ll like her, don’t worry.” He tries to smile, but it’s clear the intensity of Carlos’ stare is really starting to get to him, so he quickly looks away with an awkward chuckle.

Carlos watches as he stands from the bed, saying something about needing to “clean up his mess.” If only, Carlos thinks sardonically, laying his head down on his paws again as Jay starts picking up tissues and such things from the bathroom garbage, never once acknowledging the hamper he’s made of his side of the room.

Man, it’s going to be a really, really long day…

But luckily, Mal’s never far behind Evie.

And when she shows up, he’s chewing on her leg.

Thank you for reading! Reblogs are always appreciated. And feel free to subscribe on AO3 if you want to be alerted when the next chapter comes out. Kudos and comments are lovely, as well! ♥

[jenosbigtoe]

i need possessive dad!jeno immediately

mdni. nsfw 18+

pairing: husband!lee jeno x pregnant!reader

warnings: marriage au, pregnancy sex, jen loves his pregnant wife, you call him daddy and he calls you mama

(can be read standalone or as a continuation of this)

the way jeno is so obsessed with his sweet, perfect little wifey, no wonder you got pregnant so early in your marriage!

he was already so so sweet to you, spoiling you rotten with love, affection, and lavish gifts. always coddling you and making sure you’re well taken care of. you’re his woman after all, that’s what a good husband is for. and now that you’re with child, he does everything in his power to make sure you and your little one live happily and comfortably.

in the early days of your pregnancy, even before your belly starts showing, he makes sure you have everything you could possibly want. you are craving pizza from the joint 30 minutes across town? he already put on his coat and grabbed his keys. you want to stay in bed and cuddle all day? he calls into work sick. he loves to rub your soft belly, even if you aren’t even showing any visible signs of the baby growing in your belly yet.

he goes even crazier for you when your belly started to swell and get heavy, your breasts plumping and your skin glowing. he has his hands on you at all times, never leaving your side. he comes up from behind to rub your growing belly with one hand and massage your tender breasts with the other. and when he cuddles you, snug to his chest, with his arms wrapped around your waist, he relishes at the fact his arms don’t fit around your growing belly like they used to.

and with your sweet baby growing in your belly, your body changes in other ways too. specifically, you grow needier and hornier for your husband now more than ever. jeno has been so sweet and supportive throughout your whole pregnancy, you just love him so much :(

he’s cuddling you on your side, holding you tight against his body, arms wrapped around your 6 months pregnant belly and softly rubbing circles on your bump. you rub your thighs together, feeling a familiar heat spread from your core. you press your ass harder against his bulge and lightly grind yourself on him.

he grins and moves his hands from caressing your belly to grabbing at your hips to anchor you against him. “aw is mama getting needy?”

you turn your head to press a passionate kiss against his lips, which he accepts happily. when you pull away, you pant slightly and a string of saliva connects you to him. “daddy, please,” you whine. you reach down to put your hands down his sweats, grabbing at his hardening cock.

he groans and pulls you into another hot kiss. “fuck, mama you drive me crazy.”

you give his hot cock lazy strokes as he pulls your shorts down and lifts your leg to reveal your glistening cunt. “so wet for me already, huh mama?”

you jut your lower lip out in a slight pout. “always needy for you, daddy.”

he has one hand on your thigh, keeping your leg lifted, and the other resting on your swollen belly. you guide his cock to your dripping hole, rubbing the tip on your entrance before sinking down on the shaft. you both groan at the contact.

he thrusts into you shallowly at first, just barely using the tip to fuck into your cunt. you grow frustrated, wanting—needing more.

“stop treating me like i’m made of glass,” you whine, trying to push your ass back to sink his cock deeper inside you. “fuck me harder, daddy! i can take it!!”

he suddenly slams balls deep inside, causing you to let out a sharp gasp. his tip brushes against your cervix and his veiny shaft rubs against your smooth walls, making you feel so hot and full. he pounds into your achy cunt at an inhuman pace, sending intense waves of pleasure you have never felt before getting pregnant. you’re a moaning, panting, crying mess, your pussy equally as messy from creaming and dripping arousal around his hot shaft.

“please, daddy!! need more!” you cry.

and who is jeno to deny his precious wife of what she needs when she’s carrying their growing baby?

[multific]

Long Live The Empress of Rome

Emperor Geta x Sorceress!Reader

Summary: You promised to keep him safe. It was part of your job as his wife. And in return, you received his heart and the power you always wanted. 

A/N: This contains spoilers for the movie! This is also an AU fiction.

Ever since you were little you had powers.

One might think you were a Goddess. And they wouldn't be far off.

You could hear people's thoughts and control the elements.

Throughout your life, you have perfected these powers.

You hid them well from most people. 

But you were unable to hide it from The Emperor.

While you were rather calm, a storm raged inside you. Behind your calm and collected demeanour, you were actually quite the opposite.

Emperor Geta was not like that.

He mostly pretended to be sane, but he truly had no reason to.

He and his brother led an empire that wasn't kind.

But you enjoyed it.

Sometimes, Rome was exactly how you felt on the side.

Rotten to the core.

You liked it.

And you liked the Emperors.

Mostly Emperor Geta.

Who was not shy about showing you just how much he liked you. 

His interest in you was beyond interesting. 

Of course, he was used to having women around, but you, you were different.

And soon, you became his biggest obsession.

A simple woman he thought you were, but your beauty and wit were undeniable. 

It came to you as no surprise that he took a liking to you. What did surprise you, however, was that you also felt the same way.

It's not like you weren't interested in men before, and sometimes even women. But Geta was different.

So different from everyone.

You liked that.

He matched you perfectly.

He claimed you to be his wife the second time you met him.

Your wedding was just as grand as the crowning of the Emperors. 

"My Beautiful Empress," he whispered as the priest declared you wife and husband in front of the Gods.

And so, you became the Empress to Emperor Geta.

Emperor Caracalla on the other hand was not as fond of you. He often claimed a dark and cold chill running down his spine whenever he saw you. Little did he know the truth.

Geta fell in love with you.

He liked your cold demeanour and your hidden rage.

He liked you for you.

Not your powers or beauty. Although beauty was a major factor in getting your hand in marriage.

Later on, he found out about your powers when you were attacked one night.

Even his soldiers couldn't stop the angry people who wanted nothing more than to kill.

Geta watched as you murdered them all, with a simple move of your finger all of them fell to the ground.

Your husband found out your true self.

"The Gods sent me a Goddess. A Goddess of my own, My Wife." 

Rumours of a Dark Empress began to spread, but that is all they were in the eyes of most, rumours.

There you were, sitting next to him in the Colosseum. 

Enjoying the blood and games.

Some gladiators were more promising than the next.

The Emperors enjoyed the games and so did you.

Macrinus sat right behind you, you heard whispers from his thoughts.

A plan.

A sinister plan to overthrow your husband and his brother.

But you smirked, knowing he was not aware of your full potential.

Macrinus truly thought you were going to be the easiest to take out from the bunch. He formed a very complicated plan for the overthrow of the Emperors while he hired men to kill you. 

You slightly turned your head and offered him a look. He nodded his head, thinking you were praising him for his newest Gladiator.

You watched as the rhino ran into the wall, grabbing your husband's hand you turned to whisper into his ear.

"I wish to heal the animal."

"Whatever My Sweet Wife wishes." he kissed the back of your hand.

Even if you didn't like people, you loved animals.

After the games, you retrieved into your home, back to your room.

"Crimes are being committed against us. Right in front of our eyes," you said as Geta closed the door behind himself.

"What did you hear?"

"Macrinus has a plot. A sinister and twisted plot. He wishes to rule."

"Treason!"

"I will deal with him. Do not worry yourself with peasants like him, My Love."

"What would I do without you?"

"You would be beheaded." you smiled and he wanted to laugh but the seriousness of your tone changed his mind very fast.

"Will there be blood?" he asked, hope-filled in his voice.

You nodded, and his smile grew. 

"Lots of blood. But not ours, nor your brother's." 

"Long live the Empress," he said as he leaned in to kiss you, but just as he was about to, you spoke.

"Long live us," you replied before pulling him in for a kiss.

---

The next morning you woke up, and your husband was still asleep.

You headed to the balcony, taking in the smell of smoke.

You grabbed onto the railings, everyone's thoughts filled your mind, and you often found it to be overwhelming.

Hearing everyone's thoughts, some people were louder while others were quieter.

You weren't sure why that was, it was all you ever knew. 

Geta's thoughts were usually silent, even his most wicked ones, you used to struggle to be able to read his thoughts until you gave up. It was rare but it did happen from time to time in the past. 

You can sometimes hear words from him but not full sentences. 

But you didn’t have to hear them to know what he was thinking. 

A word you constantly heard was “Beautiful.”

Simple. 

Kind. 

You love him. 

But even with powers like Gods, it could become too much to handle. In those moments, Geta was always there by your side.

As if he knew you needed some reassurance.

And this time was no different. 

He soon pulled you close and hugged you from behind.

"Is My Wife happy?" 

"I am." you truly were.

"What will you do with Macrinus?"

"I spoke with your brother, and warned him of the plan, I suspect he was too drunk to remember so I sent him a dream. I'm sure he understands, he usually does."

"And what about the Poet Gladiator?"

"Lucius? He claims he wants to free Rome." you turned around in his arms. "But Rome will never be free. During the games today, I have a special plan for the lost prince of Rome." you lifted your hand and ran it through his hair. "I'm sure you will like it."

And he did.

Killing four birds with one stone.

Lucius, his mother, Acacius and Macrinus. 

What a delight it truly was.

Unfortunately, the tiger seemed too big of a task for the men, trying to save Lucilla. 

A completely normal tiger at that... of course, you had no hand in the matter. 

And Macrinus? 

For being a traitor, his head was placed by the walls of Rome. Setting an example to all who dare even think about overthrowing the Emperors.

"My Love. My Beautiful Wife." as he stood in front of you, out on your balcony, the moon lit the night as you heard the people or Rome riot, all you could think of was how beautiful his eyes were.

As he looked at you with the most love.

Taglist: 

@castellandiangelo @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou 

@mandoloriancookie @deliciousfestsalad @lilliumrorum @asgards-princess-of-mischief 

@fallout-girl219 @dracaryxzs @snowtargaryen 

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE, TO STEAL OR TO REUPLOAD ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Death Wish 9

Warnings: non/dubcon, mentions of crime, violence/abuse and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: mob!Bucky Barnes

Part of the mob drabbles au

Summary: you’re desperate for a way out of your life and you ask a powerful man for help (plus!reader)

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Photo Inspo

The doorbell buzzes. You loathe that noise. You stay as you are, unbothered by the visitor. You already hear Kitty asking Adrienne who it could be. 

You continue to shuffle through the contents of the cigar box. You’re neither surprised or disgusted by the love letters. You know your mother’s writing and you know it isn’t here. You always assumed your father was rotten to the core. No, you were certain of it. The proof only makes you feel worse for your mother. 

The door opens. There’s voices. Soft tones. Kitty’s, Adrienne’s and... his. 

Then, footfalls that ascend the stairs. Too heavy to be your sisters’. You close the box and toss it in the black bag. There is not box to keep. All your father’s stuff needs to go. You have no use for it. 

“You know I’m here,” Barnes says as he appears in the doorway. 

“I do,” you take the old baseball your father made you catch as a girl. He was always disappointed he never had a son. It makes you want to smile knowing he never got the thing he wanted the most. 

“You’ve had your time to mourn,” he says, and nothing else. His meaning is clear. 

You drop the ball and get off the floor. You cross to him with your head down. He’s stoic and still. You reach for his hand. That makes him flinch. As if he’s surprised. He lets you lift it and you kiss the ring on his pinky. 

You let him go and look him in the face, “he’s gone. It’s over. Let’s move on.” 

His brow arches and his eyes narrow. “You understand what happens now?” 

“You take care of my sisters. That’s all that matters to me.” 

“All about family,” he remarks. “Well, real family.” 

You’re silent. You don’t know what he wants you to say. Your heart is in your throat, can’t he see it beating there, choking you. 

“I showed you my loyalty. I did that and I will never tell a soul.” 

“Oh, I know, doll,” he smirks and shifts his weight. It’s your turn to wince as he brushes his knuckles along your cheek. “I don’t just want that loyalty for one night.” 

You blink and fight not to let your fear show. It’s all so uncertain yet deep down you know exactly what he means. It just seems all too much. 

“Sit down,” he drops his hand and turns. He shuts the door. 

You avoid your father’s bed and instead, sit at the vanity where your mother would perch and apply her night cream. He paces and puts his hands in his pockets. He exhales and measures the air. 

“It’s sorted. Everyone knows what happened. Vengeance is taken, the tables are balanced,” he says. “So we move forward. Your sisters are protected. They will have roofs over their head. You will too.” 

You stare at him, waiting for the other shoe. 

“Doll,” he tilts his head, “why are you looking at me like that?” 

“Just say it,” you sniff. 

“Say what?” 

“Tell me what it costs,” you sneer. 

He snickers, “that’s what I admire about you. You don’t beat around the bush. You come to my office, tell me to off daddy. You won’t even let me charm ya, dammit. You just wanna get down to business.” 

“Please,” you beg. “I... I can’t take any more.” 

His expression softens and he approaches you delicately, like an animal he doesn’t want to scare off, “we’re gonna have a big wedding, doll. You’re gonna wear the most expensive thing you can find, and we’re gonna drive off into the sunset together.” 

You gulp and search his face. It sounds ridiculous. You don’t know this man, he doesn’t know you. Yet, he’s the only man who knows what you did. Who know that you could do something like that. 

“Ah, come on, I’m a real man,” he unbuttons his jacket and reaches inside. “I’m more than words.” He takes out a hexagonal velvet box. “So, let me know if it fits.” 

You hesitate but accept the box. You open it with some effort, the hinges are tight. You snap the lid up and stare at the ring within. It has a large teardrop diamond at the center and four decent sized ovals to each side, with little round diamonds worked in between. The gold gleams with the elaborate style of the thick band. 

You slide it out and turn it in your fingers. It has to be worth more than all the stuff your daddy pawned off. More than even this house. You roll it over again and line up your finger with the band. You push into it and it fits snugly below your knuckle, covering half your finger. 

“Too big,” you say. 

“Loose?” He wonders as he leans a hand on the vanity table. 

“No, it’s... clunky,” you wiggle your hand. 

“Never thought I’d hear a woman complain a rock was too big,” he says. “Doll, I expect you to show off. You’re mine, I’m yours. That’s something to brag about.” 

“Flashy. Distracting,” you comment. 

“Any man stupid enough to try to steal that off ya, he won’t be thinking much longer,” he insists and grabs your hand. “Come here.” 

He tugs you until your standing. He admires the ring on your finger and his cheeks dimple as he grins. He puts your hand on his shoulder and wraps his other arm around you. Sweat beads across your scalp and down your back. He’s so close you can smell his mellow cologne. 

“Always good to have more to love, isn’t it?” his fingers curl into the cushion of your hip as he crushes you against him. He brings his palm up to cradle your face as his eyes drift down to your lips. He purrs and rocks you.  

You shudder as your breath catches in your chest. The idea never fully bloomed in your head. You never dared to imagine this. Yet here it and it’s more startling than anything you could ever fathom. 

He turns his hand to frame your chin and pulls you even closer. He leans in and presses his mouth to yours. His beard tickles you as his lips caress yours and his tongue pokes out coyly. You close your eyes as you open up to let him in. 

Your heart thrums behind your ears as you seal your deal with that kiss. You didn’t barter for your freedom, just another master. 

[loveshotzz]

I have to know what would we do to spoil our old man on his birthday 🥺🥺🥺🥺

we’d spoil him rotten 🥺

here’s semi spicy 18+ blurb about giving our favorite old man a massage on his birthday ♥️

(this blurb is for my au All I Really Want Is You but can be read as a stand-alone. Steve is 43 and fem!reader is 31 requested so long ago by @joekeerysmoles 💕) wc:600

The rose oil that covers your hands makes your fingertips glide over his broad freckled shoulders with ease. Eucalyptus hangs thick and heavy in the warm air, crackling from the wooden wicks inside the candles that provide the only light in his room. They help the nerves that still flutter even after a year of saying ‘I love you’.

Steve lays flat on his chest underneath you only in his boxer briefs, the gold Gucci emblem around the waist band shimmers in the low light. Your knees sit on either side of his hips, dipping down the plush bedding of his new king size mattress. A 43rd birthday gift to himself, while you sit in nothing but the thin red lace of the one you got for him.

Leaning forward with a smirk, your lips ghost across two of your favorite moles that dot the back of his neck, the tip of your nose tracing the shell of his ear.

“Happy birthday old man.”

Applying just enough pressure up the dip of his spine, you earn a low moan from him that vibrates deep in your core. It takes every ounce of your willpower not to rock your hips and chase it.

“Honey,” his voice comes out muffled from around the tops of his hands,“I wish there were words to describe how good this feels.”

Giggling with a chest full of pride, you catch a flash of his white teeth, stubble covered cheeks pushing up at his favorite sound. One of his big hands slips out, shoulders flexing with his movement as he reaches back to squeeze at the soft dough of your thigh before disappearing back to where it came from.

A content sigh escapes from between his pink lips as your focus shifts to his neck, your fingers digging at the tense muscles under his gold chain. The metal glistens with oil every time it catches the glow of the flickering candle, while your thumb and forefinger knead behind his ears.

“Shit, baby.”

Huffing with furrowed brows, he readjusts so he can turn his head to the other side. The movement slides you forward, creating just enough friction to bite down on your bottom lip. The dull ache between your legs becomes even harder to ignore, and you wonder if he can feel just how wet you are.

“Yeah, is that the spot?” You coo all sticky sweet, working it with even more focus. He sucks in a sharp breath, his teasing kisses all night spurring you on.

”God, fuck - yeah, yeah, right there.” He groans loud enough to drown out the sounds of The O’Jays vinyl playing downstairs, your thumb finally loosening up a hard knot.

His whole body melts under your touch, the hard lines of his face relaxing while the blunt ends of your nails scratch at the silver hairs hiding in the nape of his neck. Letting go of his long work week with deep breath, the movements have your hips rolling on their own, his oiled sun kissed skin making it too easy to do again.

He hums knowingly, relishing in the soft tug of his hair loving the way you squeal when he flips himself over. Big hands grab at your hips to keep you in place, the effects of your massage had on him becoming obvious nestled between your thighs.

There’s still no preparing for the sight beneath you, and despite seeing it almost every day, you still can’t believe he’s yours.

His soft hair is a tousled mess of auburn and silver on top of his head, begging you to drag your hands through it. The five o’clock shadow that peppers his strong jaw is at your favorite length, and sometimes you think he grows it out a little longer just for you. His gold chain that hangs off his neck fits like a choker, no longer lost in the thick patch of chest hair that you swear has a few more gray curls inside of it after today. Letting your hands wander his chest, your gentle touch makes the subtle muscles of his abs twitch. Perfect teeth biting down on his full bottom lip, watching you in awe.

“You know I hate my birthdays? Always have.” Steve hums, warm palms gliding up your thighs, squeezing at the soft dough before digging his long fingers into your hips, “Now I wish it was every day with you lookin’ like this, pretty girl.”

”Who says it can’t be?” You grin, running your slick hands back up his pecs, nails scratching in the coarse hair there.

Leaning forward, you fix his chain bumping the end of your nose with his, rolling your hips slowly, you feel him twitch inside the soft cotton of his briefs.

”It certainly feels like it,” he whispers with a smile against your lips.

[mothsakura]

hrrrrrnnng just woke up rn i wanna hold the little scrawny bug by his antenna so evilly... he's so silly........

[randomationality]

and sgtfp soundwave!!

rambling about SOME goofy ass headcanons now yayy

In my SG:TFP AU, Sir Soundwave doesn't change his alt mode when he arrives on Earth. So he pretty much still has his same taller-than-Megatron height (He's basically taller than the whole gang except Predaking 😭). But after some exploring and researching about Earth, he's become fond of the 1964 Chevrolet Corvair Van and 1967 Volkswagen 21-Window Samba Bus after seeing them on the beach being used by surfers and some others by garage bands, both with cool art on them. But he's worried he won't have a subspace for Laserbeak.

Like Starscream and Shockwave, he loves Earth's nature. Every animal he's come across, he always grows more and more fond of them. His favourite one, is an elephant! He likes to talk with Starscream about animals, and listening to him talk about insects. He's also grown protective of Earth's creatures, so if you hurt one of them, he will find you. And the last thing you will ever see is an empty, faceless mask of nothingness, staring right into the core of your dreadful, unforgivable and inferior retched soul before it slips right away from your physical vessel of rotten flesh.

Sir Soundwave (obviously) has that surfer bot accent, more specifically Words With Friends Tiles' one. He uses 'dude' as a comma and full stop in his speech. He also uses them at the end of every name he says e.g. Screamer-Dude, KO-Dude (lolz).

He has a very, VERY inconsistent music taste. So if you ask him to play something, it's gonna be the most random song ever it'll catch you off guard. The reason why a very inconsistent music taste is because after exploring Earth's VARIOUS genres and songs, he's made a strong liking to all of them, except for one. The one genre you'll NEVER catch him listening to is country.

Thanks for reading my bad headcanons

[tk-duveraun]

Another qijiu au for qijiu week

Upon cultivating a golden core, people are able to manifest a familiar from their spiritual energy with the essence of their soul attached.

They do not choose the form the familiar takes and (beauty as righteousness remember) those with less elegant or less mighty familiars simply choose to leave them unmanifested

Better to be seen as suspicious for not summoning than "confirm" your "rotten core" by having a distasteful animal

YQY *can't* manifest a familiar due to the damage to his soul, but everyone thinks his familiar is a great phoenix. Truly only the new-sect leader who as a disciple suppressed a heavenly demon could have such a magnificent spiritual creature as a rejection of his soul.

The phoenix is actually a part of SJ. The part that refuses to let go of Qi-ge, even after everything. The phoenix dotes on YQY and even grooms him, so of course people assume it's his own

SJ doesn't manifest it often because he hates how the creature has forgiven the unforgivable, but at the same time he allows it and corrects no one bc he needs some piece of himself, no matter how small, to be loved and accepted by the qi-ge who tried to erase him from his life

Even though YQY clearly only allows it bc the perception of having such a creature as a reflection of himself boosts his credibility

But of course this means the sect believes SJ's familiar to be a dung beetle or some mangy mutt, to reflect how vile he is.

[alkalineleak]

GIRLS

[bunnys-kisses]

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿mafia au - esteban ocon ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

he met you on a cold night in decemeber. the poor thing at the crosswalk, shivering like a leaf. that coat you wore was not enough to keep you warm. someone must've lied to you about how cold it got in paris during this time of year. one degree celsius was still cold if you didn't wear the right coat.. maybe a hat would help too. so he took off his before the light changed and handed it to you. you looked at him curiously before he gestured for you to take it. you smiled, thanks him and put it on your head. the hat felt expensive, but before you could try and give it back, he was walking briskly across the street with his hands in his jacket. esteban didn't understand why he did that, but in that moment seeing something so sweet turned off all rationally in his brain. he'd have to be careful, he couldn't let too many people get into his head. he assumed he'd never see you again after he bought another hat for the weather, but that was until he found you walking the streets late into the evening. you noticed him and waved like you were friends before you raced over to him.

while he wouldn't accept the hat back, but he'd accept your phone number.

esteban remembered the first time he got to sink his cock into you. it was the night after he told you about his lifestyle. you looked scared at first, but told him in a brave voice that you cared for him. and if he was in the mafia then you'd simply have to be part of his world. that was when he knew he had to have you. to feel your soft curves under his palms, to be close to the woman that accepted him. that even his rotten core could be loved, his massive secret. he took his time with you, to be given such a gift should be taken apart with time and care. tenderness was not something he was afforded. his fingers dragged across your slick cunt, his nose in your hair. his digits sank into your pussy as he marveled at the feeling of it. you were unlike any other woman he had ever been with. how was someone like you not already married? how did you not have a husband or boyfriend? as he fingered you, he recalled your first date where you begged him not to take you to that expensive restaurant but instead the smaller chinese place two blocks over. you looked like you were about to cry, you couldn't have him pay that much for a meal.

he remembered after your dinner at the chinese restaurant, you went home with leftovers for lunch the next day. as if esteban was more than happy to pay your grocery bill for the month. but you seemed happy as could be with the containers in hand. he did drive you home when he found out you took the metro to your date. it was late, people could hurt you. the last thing esteban wanted was for you to get hurt. but now after your deceleration of wanting to stay with him despite his line of work and connections, he thought you were a much stronger woman. he managed to get two orgasms out of you before he thought you were ready to bury his cock in you. he took his time and asked if you were okay. when he got as deep as he could go, he felt excitement in his chest.

he held you delicately as he made love to you. he held you soft hips, feeling the tenderness under his palms. he admired the movement of your breasts and your soft expressions. you loved this, you loved being close to him. and it riled him up. to know that you two were a perfect fit for one another. he moved against you, he drank in the sight of you. your noises were met with his praise as the two of you moved against one another. so beautiful, so perfect for him. your pulse raced for him as he pulled you in for a soft kiss. he wasn't a rough lover despite his choice in careers. he could break a neck if he tried, but with you. he could never hurt you. even if you were such a strong woman, he couldn't harm you. you were his piece of heaven that he'd worship until the earth broke in half.

he moved against you, loving you more than he could anything else. you were what plagued his thoughts as he watched your climax once more. you clung to him tightly, lips pressed together once more. you softly admitted that no one had ever made you cum before, and esteban felt something swell in his chest as he continued to thrust. his beautiful eyes lingered across your body. the most perfect woman he had ever laid eyes on. you were a dream. the pleasure caught up to him. he could feel it fill his brain. he then pulled out to finish all over your stomach, which made you made a delicious noise that esteban promised would be seared into the back of his brain when he was without you. he admired you, marked by him across your stomach. he leaned in and kissed you on the cheek before he went to grab tissues to clean you with. he felt good in a way he hadn't felt in ages.

as he laid next to you, your head on his chest with the sheets pulled up over both of you. he kissed at the top of your head. he wondered what his next move would be. to find someone so willing of his way of life was not easy. he wondered if he should buy you something expensive. maybe that tablet pen you were looking at online or that limited edition sanrio plush that you've been tempted to splurge on but keep talking yourself out of it. you deserved affection in all its forms, and esteban was more than happy to slide his credit card across the table to get finer things.

regardless, some would consider you a mad woman for being so willing to love a member of the family that esteban was part of. to be associated so closely with danger, but as you looked up into his eyes you smiled. and esteban decided in that moment that an engagement ring needed to be ordered. <3