#fandom plushes my fucking beloved

[nintendont2502]

The horde grows

The collection (so far):

- 2 Pikachu (one large, one bootleg)

- 1 Build-A-Bear Scorbunny

- 1 weird silver Scorbunny I got for like 5 bucks

- 1 Bulbasaur

- 1 large pokeball pillow

- 1 Umbreon

- 1 Espeon

- 1 handsewn Childe whale (for a school project)

- 1 Enderman (he holds my pride flags)

- 1 Companion Cube

- 1 BOTW Link

- 1 Jayfeather

- 1 Foxy (90% sure it's a bootleg)

- 1 Fangamer Sans

- 1 Goodsmile Mayor/WV

- 1 Bunnings Christmas bear (is Bunnings a fandom? Fuck if I know)

- 1 Djungelskog (in the background)

- 1 Blahhaj (not pictured)

[midnight1nk]

So, this week's episode...

[Spoilers below cut]

I'm absolutely terrified, it's not even funny. I can't even click it. But I have to... for the LOREEEEEEEEE... okay, let's-a go....

(The following is my live reaction:)

ay the TADC plug, of course

"Born to shit, Forced to wipe" - not smg3

wise words Three

also, the Ferris Wheel and rollercoaster thing is still there in the background (Ferris Wheel wedding, my beloved...)

I knew someone was going to bring up Meggy and her disappearance

LEGGY! MEGGY, WE'LL RESCUE YOU I PROMISE!!!

THANK YOU THREE for asking the right questions here

oh... not what I expected. at least the crew knows this is obviously Mr Puzzles

NAME DROP

OK, a LOT to digest here:

These are all the possible minigames that we might see in WOTFI. Well, at least all the attractions we could see...

a Mr Puzzles Chonk plush (in the bottom right)

a Tunnel of Love attraction... hmmmm.......

Huh, I didn't know this was by the coast of the Mushroom Kingdom. Or it could be an island/peninsula.

The what now, Leggy?

YEP I knew that once they found out, they would want to leave

...and of course, Mario wants to stay

Yeah, Luigi said it himself

but also, look at the Mr Puzzles cardboard cutout in the back, he's wearing Meggy's cowboy hat from Western Spaghetti

Alright, but before we go in, we gotta have a buddy system, guys

All these critiques are going to make Mr Puzzles lose himself even more than he already is

I think I saw someone posted about submitting a water gun game so congrats for getting in!

Leggy Plush!!

also spider-man plush... symbiote... venom... GOOP!4????

...Once Upon A Perfect SMG4?

[*points at Four and Mario*] The sillies

ok, but like, why is Three smiling like that while everyone else looks so disappointed?

They did the buddy system!

Bob: "Those dumbasses will see ANYTHING and get excited."

I feel seen and I don't like it.

I don't like this either. I already know this is a trap but like noooooo

Three just standing there like a dad watching over his kid

Someone else also submitted a mini-game involving a ducky fishing game

GOD DAYUM.... why did you have to pose like that, Three? You're not beating the allegations, huh.

Aw, Three really wanted to enjoy a carnival if Mr Puzzles wasn't involved (writers, write that down + carnival dates)

OK NOPE WE NEED TO GET OUT OF HERE NOW

🫵 🏳️‍🌈⁉️

oh c'mon now, it's just plainly obvious. Not that it should be surprising, everyone's part of the skittle squad (tm)

STRONG WOMEN we love to see it

...that can't be a real thing... can it?

same Luigi same

YES PLEASE CAN WE?

sorry dude, they really locked in

also what the hell is that building in the back?

Luigi (or rather the SMG4 fandom): "See? I can handle this! I'm not afraid anymore! Do you hear me? I'm not afraid-" [*horror jumpscare*] [*scream*]

NOT EVEN MELONY'S GOD POWERS COULD HELP US, WE'RE FUCKED

NOOOOOO NOT KAREN AND SAIKO

THREE WE NEED TO LEAVE NOW

NOOOOOOOO THREEEEE I THOUGHT HE WAS GOING TO BE THE LAST ONE TO MAKE IT OUT

[*sobbing*] he sent one last text to warn them :( he really does care

AND HE SENT IT TO FOUR [*head in hands*]

the contact names they have for each other.... (I'm not well)

WE GOTTA GO [*runs*] GET OUT GET OUT

Leggy... why did your face change like that?

WHAT WAS THAT CRYPTIC CAPTION?!

Mario, please don't sacrifice yourself... oh, thank god! They really are having me panicking for the smallest things

wait... OMG THEY SAW MY SUBMISSION! THEY SAW IT!

the mini-game challenge that I submitted:

Pop & Whirl: Everyone gets a bag of popcorn. The winner must keep all of their popped kernels in their bag, without dropping a single one... while being chased around the carnival by a collapsed Ferris Wheel (Professor Layton style)!

I DON'T CARE IF IT DOESN'T HAPPEN AGAIN IN WOTFI, I'LL TAKE IT. But if it does happen, I'll draw lawyer Meggy with a redesigned Ace Attorney-esque outfit (somehow)

please don't tell me the green pipe is also a trap...

...the exit door from TADC?

oh god, why does this remind me of the dark web?

and the eyes on the mushrooms... [*IGBP flashbacks*]

heh heh, funny mirrors... AH SHIT PUZZLES, DON'T JUMPSCARE ME LIKE THAT

actually, now that I think of it, Mr Puzzles hasn't revealed himself this whole time...

THE DIDNEY ENGINE ROOM?!

...holy shit

so was I right about us getting to see Mr Puzzles' "truest form" and the whole "Eye of Ra" thing?

are those his arms? and the circle things, it could be part of his cyborg texture but they also look like eyes.

the fog part is really interesting because they could've gone with any "spooky" color but they chose this. It's the creative vision, the one Didney had in this room.

This really reminds me of the goo from IGBP and Wren's wire simulation in Western Spaghetti, but also from this angle, a bit of Zero's "no legs" body design.

"His obsession becoming his identity" - Puzzles connected himself to the single star Didney had. You got it right, past Ink.

HUH?! YOU CAN'T END IT THERE

AND THEY GRAY-ED OUT OUTRO, NO MUSIC! IT'S ABOUT TO GO DOWN, GUYS

also congrats to Nikej1708241 for making it to the credits 🎉

.・-: ✧ :--: ✧ :-・.

That was a pretty solid episode ngl. Probably not as "plot twist-y"

(i know that's not a word) as the previous episode but my spaghetti gods, it delivered! Not Marty again, we may have to rethink this one.

Ok, I've made a list of all the attractions and mini-games there are in the carnival grounds in Puzzle Park:

Ferris Wheel

"Tender Tunnel" (Tunnel of Love attraction)

Merry-Go-Round carousel

Basketball arcade game

Hammer game

Bumper Cars

"House of Crazy" funhouse (also that fits Mr Puzzles somehow)

A spooky cart ride

Water gun game

Rocket ride

Arcade (just flat-out an arcade)

Clown Ball Game

(There's apparently a cafe???)

Ducky Pond fishing game

Pizza shop (....marty?)

It's probably not all of them, we would just have to wait and see, but if you submitted a mini-game that involves any of these, congrats, you likely got in!!!

I still very much enjoyed this episode and some of what I theorized could possibly come true. And some didn't, which is totally okay with me. I'll cherish the Ferris Wheel chase scene regardless :)

We still have to wait for a trailer or a special video in regards to WOTFI, which I will have to analyze and see what's to be expected. From the looks of it in this episode, it seems like it's up to SMG4 and Mario to rescue their friends one by one by completing the mini-games. The more people they rescue, the more help they can get to complete the games. And that includes saving Meggy at the end.

Now, personally, I don't want Mr Puzzles to die. Not yet. There is still a lot of potential that could go for him. A similar redemption arc just as Three went through. Puzzlevision 2. Goop!4. Marty. Anything could happen. Then again, he could die.

Now you might think he might not die because he has a plushie, but there's literally merch of Axol and Desti and they're dead. Puzzles isn't safe from this possibility.

Put in your final bets, my dear fellows, because nothing will ever be the same again...

[queers-gambit]

The Last Will and Testament of James Barnes, Sr.

prompt: The Boss passes away, and at the reading of his Last Will and Testament, your lover, Bucky, is named successor - not his older (adopted) brother, John. tension breaks at the funeral.

pairing: Mafia Bucky Barnes x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Marvel

word count: 4k+

note: author wants to remind everyone that there are 1,000 different ways to host a funeral; to celebrate a life.

warnings: Mafia AU, cursing, mention of deceased family member, depictions of violence, greed, spoiled brat behavior (not by reader or Buck, you'll see), entitlement, does author ever edit? where is this fic going? author lost sight of the plot but fuck it!

"The Last Will and Testament of James Barnes, Sr.; read on May 16th, after being last revised on January 3rd, - being of assured sound body, mind, and soul - is to divide assets and bequeath inheritance," the lawyer with thinning hair announced to the room, his baritone voice sending vibrations to the glasses of water set before him.

You tightened your hand in Bucky's flesh one, sharing a small glance together as his mother commandeered all attention by sniffling loudly from the middle of the room. It was a lively sort of office; a high rise with floor-to-ceiling windows, painted a light, pale yellow that glowed in sunlight, a long mahogany conference table, plush, leather rolling chairs, and an array of flavored waters to choose from. Both sparkling and flat.

It felt wrong to be there, totally unreal.

The Last Will and Testament of James Barnes, Sr., was read from behind a pair of thick-framed glasses by a portly man in a tacky, summer khaki suit. Mr. Happy had been the Barnes' lawyer for years now, someone The Boss, James Sr., trusted without a doubt. He was the only man trusted to see this division to the end and without conflict, fearing it'd upset Mr. Barnes' soul should his family begin feuding over material items.

"First, to my beloved wife, Mary Beth, who I know will succeed me in death. I to her leave our beach house, the penthouse on Fifth, every car in mine and her name is to be transferred solely into her name, the building, apartment leases in Manhattan so she might continue being landlord and earn a monthly, sizable income. In addition," Happy glanced at Mary Beth, "I bequeath a lump sum of 25% of my savings."

Everyone seemed to think this was acceptable, nodding in agreement as Mary Beth sobbed loudly into a crumpled, saturated tissue. However, Happy paused as he scanned over the document nervously. His throat cleared, informing that John was to get his own share - yet there was no mention of the organization's leadership and the entire room filled with tension. Finally, Happy sighed through his reading of Bucky's inheritance as you took a sip of coffee; revealing he had been chosen as Mr. James Barnes, Sr.'s successor.

Coffee sprayed out of your nose to splatter on the table, making you gag and cough instantly; Bucky patting your back in support as he turned rigid with confusing tension. Mary Beth Barnes gasped dramatically, insisting that couldn't be right.

"What!?" John raged, shooting out of his leather chair so fast, it toppled over. "That's impossible! That should not be possible!"

"I assure you, Mr. Barnes, it's - "

"Bullshit!" John snapped, snatching a copy of The Last Will and Testament of James Barnes, Sr..

Happy sighed, "Your father did not leave you the business, John, he left it to Bucky, instead."

"How the fuck - !?" Nobody moved as John read for himself what the legal documents said. He grit his teeth and tossed the padded file to the lawyer, glaring at his family. "So," he seethed, "Father's decided to name Bucky over me."

"What does all this mean!?" Mary Beth asked tearfully.

He smirked, "You two couldn't get pregnant. You tried, tried, tried, but just couldn't, so, you adopted me. But just 3 months after I came home, you were giving birth to Bucky - and even better, you gave him Father's name! My whole life, you've all tried to erase me because the adoption was final and there was nowhere to dump me, but then Father started teaching me about the business. He knew I was the eldest - and succession respects birth order!"

"I didn't ask for this," Bucky snapped, his hand flat on your back as you had stopped choking finally but he didn't want to lift his hand from your inviting warmth.

"No? That why you're the one benefitting from everything?" John sneered.

"Benefitting? From our father dying? I understand you feel scorned, but Father made his decision," Bucky reminded. "And I'm sorry he made you feel as if you were guaranteed this job, but this is how it works. Someone's appointed."

"If you were decent, you'd refuse so I could step in and take my place. You know I'm the better fit!"

Happy shook his head, "That's not how this works, kid."

"Excuse me?" John seethed, turning to the lawyer.

"Bucky can't just refuse and you accept," Happy explained. "If the chosen inheritor refuses, then there's a trial to elect a new Boss. You'd have to plead your case to everyone."

John huffed and turned to Bucky, demanding, "Well?"

"I'm not refusing what Father wanted," Bucky decided, making you freeze. "And I'm not useless, John, I know how to do this job."

He scoffed, "Whatever."

"Hang on a second," you whispered, grabbing Bucky's wrist to lean into his side, barely muttering, "baby, are you sure?" He nodded at you, not quite picking up on the question you asked between the lines.

The Last Will and Testament of James Barnes, Sr., had been officially read, and after naming Bucky successor, tore apart a fragile family that was barely knit together with frayed string. He knew his decision would cause disruption, yet Senior Barnes made a decision best based on the needs of the organization - not his sons.

Now that John had stormed off, Happy read the rest of the document to ensure there were as little questions as possible; everyone aware of the temper John harnessed - thinking this was his final trigger that made him snap. After hearing the division of assets, you all parted ways with Happy, who promised he'd be in contact with Bucky soon before telling Mary Beth the money would hit her account in a day.

25% of Senior Barnes' savings to Mary Beth. 25% to John. 50% left for Bucky to operate an ever-profiting business.

The Last Will and Testament of James Barnes, Sr. had torn apart a mother and (adopted) son; two brothers; and while you didn't want to add to the stress Bucky must've felt, you couldn't hold back. When alone in the car, you lashed out at Bucky - demanding to know how he could make such an important decision without at least consulting you.

"We're together, Bucky, and this is a partnership! One person doesn't get to do everything, we make big-time, life-changing decisions together since it's not just your life you're shaking up!"

"This has nothing to do with you!" Bucky snapped back.

"It's everything to do with me!" You argued. "You're not the only one in this relationship, so you don't get to make unilateral decisions!"

"It's not your job, it's not your family - "

"Oh, for fuck's sake!" You snarled. "Few weeks ago, it was, 'oh, baby, I'm gonna marry you one day. I can't live without you,' and now it's not my family...? What? Not my business? Not my concern?"

"It's up to me to deal with."

"Why couldn't you of just asked for a minute to think?" You asked in a defeated tone. "You could've used a minute or two to talk to me about it before jumping the gun."

"What would you've said?"

"That we could try it out and then if you didn't like it, let it go to trial..."

He nodded, "Not half a bad idea."

"But you didn't think to include me!"

"It's not your life!"

"Oh, go fuck yourself, it's our life. Okay? Like it or not, this is our life we're talking about. Fucking clue me in next time, you irrational fuck."

Bucky took a long breath, "All right, fine, fair enough. I should've included you. I'll do better in the future."

You huffed, crossing your arms, "I doubt it."

Due to the nature of your stress, you didn't push Bucky farther that night. He seemed distracted, and even when you got back to your penthouse apartment, he was sullen and quiet. You spent two hours in bed, alone, tossing and turning, before finally getting up to look for your lover. He was found on the balcony, dried tear tracks left on his cheeks; mutely opening his arm to welcome you onto his lap. Bucky needed you now more than ever, his tears starting again as the funeral now loomed over you all.

Two days later, The Last Will and Testament of James Barnes, Sr. was contested on May 18th by... John Walker? Who the fuck...?

"Hi, Happy," you greeted the lawyer at your hotel door, opening it to let him enter.

"Thanks, doll," he smiled. "Where's Mr. Barnes?"

"In here," you lead him to the sitting room, trying to ignore how everyone now called Bucky "Boss" or "Mr. Barnes". When you arrived, the three of you sat to listen to the lawyer speak about whatever he had called an emergency meeting about.

"Who the hell is John Walker?" You wondered softly. "Some rip-off John Wick?

"John, it's John," Happy snickered. "It's John - he's legally changed his adopted name to his birth name. From Barnes to Walker."

"When?"

"Yesterday. Today, he contested the will."

"Fuck's sake," you sighed.

"This inheritance is iron-clad," Happy assured, "but it's enough disruption to shake the men in the organization. Apparently, John's procured a plethora of followers - all ready to march behind him."

"He has fucking supporters?" Bucky mumbled in angry disbelief.

"Enough to make a small dent in our numbers..."

"Can I ask?" You interrupted. "What's John's issue? Why's he so angry?"

Happy glanced at Bucky and saw there was no answer on his lips, so, he told you, "Years ago, Mrs. Barnes struggled to carry children to-term. Eventually, they were told it wouldn't happen, so, they decided to adopt. It took about a year for them to adopt John, but Mary Beth was surprisingly pregnant - gave birth three months after they adopted John, who was about two at the time and understood he had to share the attention of his new parents. That's where the competition started..."

"So, John's mad...?"

"He's the eldest," Happy shrugged. "But Senior Barnes named his firstborn son..."

"What a slap in the face," you frowned, feeling sad for John. "To learn after his father died that... What? He didn't think John was really his son? Was really family?"

Happy nodded, "He was clear when he stated his firstborn son... They were in a feud when Senior Barnes made this revision."

"So, he was just angry - "

"More than that," Happy frowned. "Have you spoken Mr. Stark yet?"

"Tony? Not yet," Bucky answered.

"He's your father's investment banker, works with your father's accountant. John had an unhealthy habit of asking for more and more money to be bailed out. When your father tried to cut him off, he started stealing the money, leading their blow-out."

You blinked in shock.

Bucky just hummed and nodded, deep in thought. "Perhaps it's time to change the banker," he muttered.

"Tony's good," Happy assured, "but John knows how to manipulate people. Your father never wanted to see it, but when John burned through money, he got frustrated."

"Okay," you waved, "new motion. No more business talk until we lay Mr. Barnes to rest, okay? Just let us bury the man, then y'all can plot and plan and do whatever."

"Mr. Barnes - this, Mr. Barnes," he pointed at Bucky, " - has informed me you'll be present going forward...?"

"He did?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Well, of course, but I'm still asking for a pause," you eased, trying to play down how off-guard you felt. "Let's get through the funeral and we can figure out what to do moving forward."

Bucky agreed and showed Happy out; returning to you not a minute later with his hands on his hips. You cocked your head in question and he answered, "He got rid of the Barnes name..."

"He did."

"He's contesting the will."

"He is."

"He's got supporters in the organization."

"He does."

Bucky took a long breath, telling you, "I'm gonna need your help getting through this, doll."

"That's what I'm here for," you promised.

It was strange, seeing your lover assimilate into such an intense role. You were grateful he had an ON / OFF switch with you, being the kind, sweet, soft-hearted, tender man you fell in love with in private, but the cold, calculating maniac when acting in his newly appointed job. It was intriguing to watch; always content to play dutiful wife when he requested your presence.

You had gone to law school, and because of that, you knew how to take lightning fast notes, so, he liked you being present at his meetings. It was only three days since reading The Last Will and Testament of James Barnes, Sr., and in the time, Bucky truly took control. He weeded out most of those who supported John over him, "removing" them from their position in the org., trying to set a precedence for the other men who meant to follow him. He wore suits everyday now, had two different phones, and assigned personal security to you and him.

However, come the 21st, everything came to something of a grinding halt at the funeral. It was a simple set-up: the morning started with a mass, then they'd congregate for a viewing, lastly, transport the body to the grave site. You wore black, like everyone else, and kept a hand on Bucky the entire time - knowing his anxiety made him skittish and prone to his fight or flight reaction. He was quiet, stoic, busying himself by keeping a hand on your form; be it your waist, hip, hand, around your shoulders. To save him from any awkward encounters, you accepted people's grievances with kindness.

The mass was pleasant enough. Short, simple, to the point; offering the death rite prayers Mr. Barnes had designated in his final documents. After that, Bucky kept busy by helping load the casket into the hearse to transport him to the funeral home while you intercepted any conversation. Once at the funeral home, you helped bring in all the floral arrangements as Bucky comforted his mother, no sign of trouble yet.

However, right in the middle of the some 600-person strong memorial, there came a small commotion. You flinched when you saw your security guards hit the floor, John emerging from the stunned crowd with a few men flanking his sides. "Well, ain't this real heart-warmin'," he smirked, eyeing the attending patrons. "Funny seein' you here, Tony, 'cause you always hated Old Man Barnes. You, too, Clint," he pointed out different attendants, "'cause I remember you sayin' you wished you hit The Boss with your car that one Christmas party. Mhm, and you, Natasha, so good to see you here after all the stress you and your little gang caused Father."

"John," Bucky grit, but your hands kept him anchored in place.

"Mhm," John eyed you both, "always restrained by your bitch, huh?"

"What're you doing here?" You deflected. "Why make a scene?"

"Ain't no other way to get y'alls attention," he spread his arms in gusto. "I see you haven't responded to my contention."

"Why would I?" Bucky shot back, taking a more relaxed stance as his arm slung around your shoulders. "It's just the woes of a spoiled brat not getting what he assumes are his dues. Didn't you steal enough from Father when he was alive? What's this? You wanna try again to fuck him up in death by stealing the position he left me?"

John's tongue licked over his teeth, "Strong words."

"You're one to talk. Look, for what it's worth, I am sorry you were short handed, but it's not something we can change. You made a mistake, I get that, but it was Father's money you fucked with, that you stole, and you proved untrustworthy. Why the fuck do you think he'd leave the business to you? Listen, I'd love for you to come into the org officially, but not if you're contesting Father's wishes."

"I'm owed more than I was given," John snapped. "Years I endured his wrath and ruin, years I posed as his perfect and diligent son. To find out now, after his death, that I am not even viewed as family...? I didn't ask to be born, I didn't ask for my parents to die, I didn't ask for your mother to have fertility difficulties, I didn't ask to be adopted, and yet it all happened, but he still, until the end, kept me at arms length. I'm owed more than I was given since he stated in legal documents that I am not his son!"

"This is not the time or place," Bucky warned. "Don't fucking do this."

"No? When, then? Why do it later? When I can get through your security now? You know, you're a tough guy to get close to what with all the security you've hired recently," John smirked, opening his arms in bravado, "and yet, here I am."

"When we are not at our father's funeral, we will talk."

"No," John smirked, shaking his head, "we do this now. Here, and now, at your father's funeral."

You yelped when Bucky shoved you down, ducking swiftly himself to avoid John's swinging fist; launching his own attack, and the entire funeral home erupting in chaos. You gasped when hands grabbed your waist and hauled up - yelping in shock when you recognized Steve's tattoos as he shoved through the crowd.

"What the fuck!?" You demanded when set down on the side of the room.

"Boss' orders," he explained, keeping an eye out on the kerfuffle. "Shit - stay fuckin' here!" He barked, turning for the crowd and disappearing. You felt your panic brewing to a new height as you couldn't see Bucky... In fact, you couldn't see any of the regular men you were used to.

A gun fired, you ducked down.

People screamed, a stampede erupting to empty the funeral home as fast as possible as another shot sounded. You were about to follow the mass of people when Sam became visible, obviously struggling to get to you through the throngs of rushing people.

"C'mere, honey," Sam panted, grabbing hold of you and keeping you close.

"What's going on!?" You begged, a third shot echoing, making the last of the people scream in terror and run faster - pushing people out of their way.

"John's come to play," Sam grit, people bumping into him as he did his best to stand as a pillar to keep you safe. "C'mon," he heaved, leading you towards a side door, opening it to reveal Bucky's mother, Mary Beth, and a few other women - gently pushing you inside and shutting the locked door.

"Fucker," you grumbled, trying to open the locked handle. You sighed, hands on your hips, listening to the commotion outside the door and turning to glare at Mary Beth. "Did you know?"

"Know what?" She asked stiffly.

"That your husband resented John because he was adopted?"

She blinked and lowered her head in thought, releasing a deep, long sigh. "I didn't think it was this bad, I honestly thought things were getting better."

"James wrote John out of the will and now Bucky's the one paying for it," you snapped. "How did you not see this coming?"

"John's always been a good boy - "

"You mean a Mama's Boy. But surely you have to realize, a boy needs both his parents. Especially if he can feel the one parent fostering resentment."

The door rattled and you turned for it, the swinging wood revealing your boyfriend's deranged person. He surveyed the room, a heavy glare on his face, blood and bruising visible through his snarl, and when he locked onto your form, he surged forward, breathing, "Sweetheart."

His hands instantly slid over your cheeks, looking frantic as he took in your appearance - searching for any sign of injury. "I'm okay," you promised him, holding his wrists, "but you're not. Fuck's sake, Buck, you're bleeding."

He scoffed, "John wore rings."

"Pussy boy."

"C'mere," he stooped to scoop you in his arms, "gettin' you home."

"Bucky," you whined lightly.

He readjusted you so you were koala hugging his torso, huddling your head into his neck and insisting, "Don't look. Don't look, baby, don't fucking look."

But you did.

Tears filled your eyes when you identified two dead bodies on the bloody floor, and trailing behind you both, Bucky's footprints - in blood. You tightened your hold on him and whimpered.

The fire crackled and coughed ash into the air, a comfortable warmth emitting into the otherwise chilly room. Ice cubes sloshed in crystal, the smell of book leather and stale cologne perfumed the air, and four minds all raced with different thoughts.

Bucky, still bruised and sporting cuts on his face, clenched his jaw as he weighed options in his head. Across from him, on a matching leather loveseat, Sam sat beside Steve, handing the blonde a refilled glass of his desired alcohol. You were pressed to your lover's side, everyone replaying the events of this evening.

Sam and Steve filled you in on what went down, Bucky not making a single sound as his men spoke. The details made you feel lightheaded but you wanted to know, and now, more than before, you understood your new reality. Sam told you the names of the two men killed, names you didn't recognize, before wrapping the story up by explaining there were getaway cars waiting outside for John and his men. You spared a glance at Bucky, then asked the two men across from you, "So, what now?"

Silence.

"Now..." Bucky grit his teeth, speaking lowly and evenly, "I do the job I was given. No successful leader ever wanted their position of influence and power, being a reason I know John's the wrong fit for this job. If I step down, he'll slither in..." He nodded, "Time to be the boss, finally."

Your heart cemented and throat constricted, only able to listen to Sam and Steve agree with Buck, then instantly start planning their next move - not wanting to wait til morning.

The Last Will and Testament of James Barnes, Sr., was meant to be something clean, peaceful, and fair, and yet, it was anything but. A family without their patriarch, two confused sons sans a father, millions of dollars worth of inheritance left to be fought over, a wife off the deep end and a mother unavailable to the world; a feud brewing and sides being chose.

It wasn't supposed to come to this, James Barnes, Sr., wasn't a vindictive man. He didn't anticipate this kind of reaction, he just wanted to do something "right" without contest. He was incredibly wrong, though he'd never know it; leaving a mess in his wake that Bucky was responsible to clean.

You listened to the men devise the beginnings of a plan before whispering to Bucky you were going to sleep. After bidding Sam and Steve a goodnight, you left Senior Barnes' home study - you and Bucky moving in basically after The Last Will and Testament of James Barnes, Sr.. It was a gorgeous home, lost in time; inviting guests into her many halls; to discover all her secrets.

You found the bedroom you and Bucky had claimed, trying not to overwhelm yourself with reality. Truth was, you loved Bucky more than life but you started dating years ago - when he was a different man. When his father's wishes were different. Where different circumstances seemed plausible to your future together. However, this wasn't what you signed up for; and never did you (or Bucky) anticipate for him to be named heir.

You went to bed that night frazzled, rattled, alone, cold, and with severe heart palpitations; wishing to God your man would back down, but knew it was foolish to waste hope on the inevitable.

So, you fell asleep wondering if life with this "new" Bucky was worth living... Did you truly want to be with a man with such a dangerous job? A job that caused a crowd-fight at a funeral before creating need for more funerals? A job that would steal his time, money, effort, attention... A job that would affect you both in ways you couldn't begin to fathom?

Was loving Bucky worth this kind of conflict?

Of course, he was!

requesting rules and masterlist

Marvel masterlist

[alexalessandro]

Okay, are y'all ready for an unhinged theory about Fig?

So we all heard this at the end of the first episode.

"You've been holding onto a piece of magic for a long time... If you take me, you know what you would save. And you smell something sour and curdled."

Now, that's fucking ominous, but I wanna focus on the "something sour and curdled" because that's an odd way to phrase it, right?

Now, this is apparently from a piece of magic Fig has been holding onto for a long time, and Fig's phrasing at the end there:

"I come from hell, we make deals with devils"- Is vague and also blatantly wrong. Fig doesn't literally come from Hell. Our girl comes from the suburbs but is now a devil, the Archdevil of rebellion.

So, I think the one making a deal is not necessarily Fig, but whoever is calling out to Fig is making a deal with her, as she's the devil in the exchange, and I think the creature may not necessarily be devilish in nature.

And who is this creature making a deal with fig? Something that has been with her for a long time, something that smells curdled?

Gilear.

NOW HOLD ON COOL YOUR JETS!

HEAR ME OUT OKAY!!

It's been a joke theory in the FH fandom for a while now that Gilear acquired some extraplanar energy from 1. Dying this many times, and 2. Dying in hell. If they got frequent revivify miles, Gilear's Soul definitely got em.

Now, the fact that Fig smells something curdled immediately calls back to Gilead's Curdled milk and lemon yogurt bit in sophomore year (and his overall yogurt obsession from freshman year). It makes sense that if he became an eldritch being of any kind dairy would be a big part of his supernatural brand.

I would also not put it past Brennan to turn Gilear into a more plot-relevant being, considering his popularity within the fandom, the bad kids, and his presence in the Dropout merch store before the season drop (a whole Gilear plush, really? Don't get me wrong I love it but I'll absolutely be taking that as theory fodder thank you very much).

It would also make sense to link Gilear to Fig's magic this way, not only because a lot of his deaths had to do with devilish ends (The Balgura, literally dying in hell, TWICE, and dying by wearing the armor of one of the seven deadly sins), but also because who else has been there with Fig since the beginning? A piece of her that has been with her for a long time? There's also the fact that Gilear is the first soul she revivified after becoming the archdevil of anarchy and rebellion, and that oughta create a deeper magical bond, right?

We all know how Brennan feels about Gilear "HE'S JUST A GUY! SOME PEOPLE HAVE TO BE NORMAL!!!" But Gilear's life has not been normal since the bad kids, and as much as Brennan is a DM, he's also a producer of the show: "As a DM, my faith in you as a player was not shaken for a single moment. As a producer of the show, I went, Fabian Aramaris Seacaster is one of the most beloved characters of any property on our platform, and we are going to watch him die in real-time, and no agent of the company has the ability to intercede!"

As a DM, Brennan hates Gilear and doesn't understand how he became one of the most beloved characters of any property on D20's platform (especially when he put more effort in and cared more about other parental characters in the show, as he said in a crown of candy adventuring party I believe). As a producer of the show, Brennan understands Gilear's importance in the Fantasy High brand. And if his plush is anything to go by, I think Brennan did not forget about our favorite sad elf dad when planning the storylines of junior year.

Anyway, insanity over, can't believe we have to wait a whole week for the next episode.

[spaciebabie]

idk if ur still into deltarune or undertale bUT. CHECK FANGAMER. NEW PLUSHES.

i saw!! mettaton my fucking beloved

also 👁👁 ive been in the ut fandom since the game came out im not leavin anytime soon

[lunaencantada]

He compartido 1242 publicaciones este 2022

¡Son 1242 más que en 2021! <- relax man this blog didn't exist last year lol

69 publicaciones originales (6 %)

1173 reblogueos (94 %)

Estos son los blogs que más he reblogueado:

@encantowishes

@naoko-world

@glitternightingale

@waitingonavision

@lvnamuraart <- this is embarasing ups

He etiquetado 740 publicaciones en 2022

Solo el 40 % de mis publicaciones no incluye ninguna etiqueta

#bruno madrigal: 252 publicaciones

#pepa madrigal: 157 publicaciones

#julieta madrigal: 121 publicaciones

#isabela madrigal: 89 publicaciones

#mirabel madrigal: 80 publicaciones

#my art: 61 publicaciones

#dolores madrigal: 55 publicaciones

#madrigal triplets: 50 publicaciones

#encanto: 49 publicaciones

#camilo madrigal: 43 publicaciones

Longest Tag: 138 characters

#the tall bruno i know had a lot of makeup for the eyes and i had a crisis because............... some people don't have natural eye bags??

Mis publicaciones más populares este 2022:

5

Did you know that in spanish we have many expressions with milk? I don't think it's a thing in Colombia, maybe only here in Spain, but forgive me for taking the opportunity to do a silly comic.

Descúbrela

115 notas. Fecha de publicación: 25 de julio de 2022

4

New storyboards by Ryan Green!

There are a lot of scenes with Luisa, but I'm biased, these two……….

121 notas. Fecha de publicación: 27 de junio de 2022

3

Headcanon about Julieta: her magic is in the act of giving the food to someone

Following my last drawing, I want to talk a little about my headcanon. As I said, I don't think her healing magic *is* her cooking. Why would she spend her days in the town waiting for the people to come to her? She could, Idk, send any of the kids, or just set the table with the food and go on with her day.

We have the townspeople...

Descúbrela

132 notas. Fecha de publicación: 21 de abril de 2022

2

Also, speaking of the Encanto's merch, why did they decide to do a generic jaguar plush when they could do one with Mirabel's style!!!!

I mean!! Super generic, the safe move, boring (I'm sorry Parce!!):

That's the cutest fucking thing I've ever seen in my entire life:

Descúbrela

146 notas. Fecha de publicación: 29 de abril de 2022

Mi publicación más popular de 2022

I don't know about you, but I fear the day that we have a canon sexuality for Bruno because whatever it is, some people will be angry.

I see a lot of people with OCs that are ladies, so I suspect that they want Bruno to like girls. Then you have people who watch him and read his story as the gay uncle whose name the family don't speak, so, achillean. And I think the option of aro and/or ace is popular too? And right now everyone is having a great time with their headcanons, everything is valid.

But Jared Bush doesn't want to answer anything about this topic. He is doing that with the things they want to explore in the future. And yeah, I can imagine the grandkids asking why he is single. They'll make a canon story about that. And some people will be disappointed or angry.

My worst fear? I'm ok with everything, but I guess I can't trust Disney (talking about the company, not the people actually making the movie and trying their best).

I would love Bruno being aro/ace. I crave asexual representation. The A spectrum is so big, they can try so many options (I usually think about him like an ace with a tentative interest in romance). But. Can I trust them to do a nice representation? And, can I trust the fandom who see him as alosexual to be ok with it? Because, I don't want to think bad, but I watched so many dramas in other fandoms... I'm not ready to read more shit about us. I can't do that anymore, I'm tired.

Bruno being gay? Amazing. I love the idea. Beloved character being achillean, nice. But we are talking about Disney. Every year we have a new "the first openly gay person in a disney movie!!!" and is always a background character saying one line or kissing their partner really fast, super easy to cut if they need it. I don't know about the situation in other countries, but here in Spain there is a group of people who are trying to boycott Lightyear because Oh No TwO wOmEn KiSsEd. Encanto is SUPER popular. Bruno is very popular. Some people will be so angry if he is gay. Would Disney risk their public opinion for this? Uuuh.

And if he is hetero or at least they show him having interest in women... It's ok! The movie is not about LGBTQ+ experiences, I don't expect Disney to try more representations after using the "latino representation card" (Too much for them, they'll cry). And we’ll have more opportunities with the rest of the family if we are lucky. But if they go with "he wanted but everyone was wary of him, so Bruno couldn't find a girl" ..... I'll die if the incel community find him relatable or something like that 💀 Or... Imagine if they use Bruno being neurodivergent as the excuse of why no woman wanted to marry him, because he is "strange". More 💀💀

So yeah, I don't know. I'm happy right now. Everyone is having fun. You can read/write about any option or ignore the topic completely. But some day...

176 notas. Fecha de publicación: 28 de junio de 2022

Descubre tu resumen del 2022 en Tumblr →

[plushtism]

PINNED POST YAAY

Howdy and welcome to my plushie catalog dear friends! I have autism, I am Objectum and POSIC+, and I've been gathering numerous plushes for my entire life and I love them all so dearly and they make me super happy and I wish to share them with you all :]

I'll post each plush individually with a little bio about them and what they're like and where they came from, etc. All tagged accordingly into little categories with what they are, any plushes of fictional characters however are lumped into their own single categories (since don't have enough of each series or media to justify making special tags for every single one)

Unfortunately due to either the long length of time I've had them or being really brand new some of them don't have names though, so I am open to naming suggestions on any that don't! (Please keep it appropriate though, they have feelings too man)

Aside from that I'll also post the occasional silly photos since I take a lot of them ehehe ^^ I'll have a seperate tag for that too but %]

This page is intended to be a lighter hearted and fun lil place, and I don't want to drag any sorta drama or turmoil here, however I feel I should make it known some of my plush friends may not have the happiest stories behind them because I have had a very rough and upsetting life, I will make sure to warn ahead of time for these topics though but I just want people to be aware that it'll come up since thats unfortunately unavoidable.

This blog is also run by a plural system, this wont affect much besides being possibly mentioned in plushie bios sometimes, and when answering asks and such we'll tag our names, you're mostly gonna see me here (Sludge) but the others might pop in sometimes %D

(this blog is welcome to systems of all origin btw)

More info abt tags and such under the cut for space:

More info tba but YAHH tags!

🐾 >Animals - Probably the broadest tag here, this is just for plushes who are regular ol' animals and don't have any other tag to fall under

🎮 >Games - Plushies that are characters or critters from a video game of any sort

📺 >TV - Plushes that are characters or critters from a show I like (note: both TV shows or indie web-series count under this one!)

🎨 >Misc Media - Plushes that for one reason or another don't exactly fit under just the Games or TV tags, either due to the source material being varied in medium or due to being from somewhere else entirely

⚠️ >Woah Buddy - Catch-all sub-category for plushes from a pre-existing media that has a troubling source material that requires seperate warnings of its own

💔 >Hugs and Bruises - Catch-all tag for plushes with any sort of traumatic life story attatched to them, from anywhere in between my childhood or adulthood

✨️ >Pokemon - I'm breaking my no fandom tags rule because I feel like I have enough plush pokemon to warrent it, bite me

🌈 >Beanies - I FUCKING LOVE BEANIE BABIES especially the older ones........ but I have a soft spot for the newer ones too sometimes sorry

🍞 >Squishes - Umbrella tag for my Squishmallows and Squishables, for the record and to be absolutely clear I DO NOT endorse the company behind Squishmallows though, they can suck it

🎁 >Express Delivery - Umbrella tag for my heap of Makeship plushes

🪆 >Puppet Show - I LOVE PUPPETS SO MUCH MAN i don't have many but I love them so much they deserve a tag for being such special lil guys

🎙 >Songs and Circuits - Umbrella tag for plushes with any sort of extra inner workings under all that fluff! Usually voice boxes and the like

📬 >Friend to Friend - Plushes who were gifts from friends of mine :]

💬 >Lasting Memory - Plushes that were either gifts from people I no longer associate with, were gifts from people who have passed on, or are otherwise are heavily associated with a loss I have experienced (be it an ex friend, or a death of a pet, or anything else)

🎊 >Beloved - All of my plushies are beloved by me in some way of course, but this ones for the plushes who are just that extra bit of special to me for one reason or another

🪄 >Love in the Stitches - Plushes that were handmade in one way or another, either by yours truly or by someone else

🌻 >Booboos - Plushes that have some sort of physical damage or have needed repair in the past and still have the scars to show for it

⚛️ >Plush Proxy - Because our system is very introject and fictive-heavy, we have this thing in our system we like to call "Plush Proxying" where whoever is currently in front takes our usual routine of carrying a plush around everywhere, and instead its a plush of themselves! Not every one of us has a plush proxy of course, but its something important enough to us that I think the plushes earned their own tag for it

🪢 >Unusuals - Plushes that are just downright strange little guys, wether it be the plush itself that's just weird, me not even remembering where they came from, only barely fitting the plush category, or just whatever I deem fit and odd enough to put in here

Any tags for other stuff would just be ">Plush [x]" (like plush pics, plush talks, etc) ya! X]

[universe-in-the-void-in-the-cube]

I wanted to describe why I acted the way I did last night. I had a Purple Hippo incident and I would like to explain what a Purple Hippo is.

A Purple Hippo is a form of extremely long-term frustration that has to be verbally explained in a weird way for people to understand the feelings I am having. Imagine that you want a purple hippo. It doesn’t matter what shade of purple the hippo is or in what form the hippo takes, whether it is a plush, toy, action figure, knick-knack, picture, etc. Okay with that established you would think it wouldn’t be hard to get a purple hippo. But life has other plans and does it’s best to prevent you from having your beloved purple hippo.

First you look around various places and try to find one. You see some and when you have a chance to get it, the purple hippo is always sold out, or just sold out. And when it is in stock, you have no money or way to get the purple hippo. When you have money to finally get the purple hippo, the store or site where it was being sold at is out of business.

Then you figured that you would try and make your own purple hippo. You think it would be the easiest why to get what you want. But sorry, life is not like that.

You find a cute plushie of a hippo, but it is always either the wrong color or not the right shade to be purple enough to be purple. Like a marron or a magenta or too blue. Or even if you do find the right shade of purple, but it is always another animal and never a hippo.

So, you try to make yourself a plush of a purple hippo. You see the right color you want your purple hippo to be, but you look everywhere for a hippo plushie pattern to use to sew on up, but you can’t find one. And then when you finally find a pattern, you lose the fabric. So, you start hunting for some new fabric. And sadly, you can’t find any. And when you finally find the fabric, you lose the pattern. And you try to go find the pattern again and you find out the pattern for the hippo is no longer being made and you are stuck with no purple hippo.

Then you try another way to get a purple hippo. Either by finding a knick-knack to paint, but no purple paint or no knick-knack or neither of them. Or if you do get what you are looking for together and even before you start painting it. The knick-knack brakes or the paint in the bottle is the wrong color. So, you go back to find a new hippo, and no more hippos to be found. Or the shade of purple you want is sold out or no longer being made.

Or you finally do get your purple hippo. You are very happy and content. Life is good… until. Either someone steals your purple hippo, the purple hippo is destroyed beyond compare or it gets lost or burns down in a fire or another natural disaster causes to lose your purple hippo.

Yeah, it seems that the universe doesn’t want to have a purple hippo.

Can you understand the stress, the heartache of trying and trying again, and the frustration of trying to get a simple purple hippo? This is how I feel currently and it blew up yesterday. I feel no matter what I do, I can’t seem to find the right people to RP with or when I do, they are not RPing the kind of muses that would fit my Ocs or in a ton of cases not interested in my OC or have that special RP partner already and when I do find one, life seems to take them away from me. Either from mental/physical illness, life, work or death. Which happened to me twice. Or I was being used by the RP for some joke or another, or they change fandoms.

My purple hippo is finding a good RP partner for my OC Washington that wouldn’t mind doing a romantic RPs with my muse. My current purple hippo is Hetalia Norway since him and Washington as places and culture have so much in common that I can see them together. So yeah, that is what caused me to feel so low and devastated. I hadn’t really RPed in over a year and didn’t really get back till now and things, and me fucking things up.

So, I deeply appologize for my actions getting the better of me. If you don’t want to RP with me, it is okay, just don’t interact with me in a way to get my hopes up. That is usually what triggers me to act the way I did yesterday.

[janumun]

NSFW Alphabet [Twisted Wonderland, SWD: Obey Me, Jujutsu Kaisen]

Rated: NSFW/18+ Pairing(s): Divus Crewel/Reader, Malleus/Reader/Leona, Sukuna Ryomen/Reader, Lucifer/Reader Words: 1.8k

Warning Tags: pet-play, slight dacryphilia, creampie, cum marking, brief mentions of violence and murder, monster (Curse King) fucking, over-stimulation, mild corruption kink, oral sex, mild body worship

Summary:

Stroking and tucking stray locks away to soothe your nerves, Divus moves to assist. Sweeping the blade of his paddle beneath your chin to lift as he commands, slow and deliberate, “Now, swallow.”

___

Malleus and Leona’s love isn’t a fluke — rather it tends to mistranslate at times, into a need to rule over all that you are. The two of them together are very proprietorial over their favorite human...

___

Sukuna will have you; your gaze, your body, your mind, all his, to make or break, with the single twitch of a cruel index. And if you ever, so much as misconstrue his ‘affections’ as humanity, ever attempt misuse of his ‘generosity’ in keeping you close...

___

Lucifer likes to take his time when he has you within his arms and in his bed, and any potential interruptions are only but a deterrent to extracting your pleasure, slow and smooth, like he desires.

Author’s Notes: 😮😮😮 Hello to you too, kindest, BIG HEART Nonny on the block! WHO ARE YOU? HOW ARE YOU? Thank you so much for being so incredibly sweet and for thinking of me. Your Ask made me (and continues to make me) so happy. 🙇🏽‍♀️💕💕💕 Your English (and your awesome self) is A++++.

For these headcanons, I have chosen five of my favorite characters (and one poly ship) from three different fandoms to write for, in the hopes that you know (or enjoy reading!) at least one of these men and their chosen NSFW alphabet. All in all, these headcanons are not all gentle fantasies [although, they are all consensual, in my mind] and deal with some... ‘hardcore’ kinks (please read through those warnings carefully to see if any of the tags light up any icky sirens for you!).

[Requests are open, up till the 11th of July, dear readers, if you’d to pop in and ask for something. Happy Reading!]

Divus Crewel, K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

There is quite nothing Divus awards and commends more than good, obedient behavior. Tempering a great, wild beast and collaring it, while stimulating in its own right, is but a means to obtain what he likes and how exactly he likes, from you.

A sweet, dark collar sitting upon your exposed collarbone — a gift, he grants, for private use, along with a delicate necklace, a deep, garnet stone enshrined into the piece, for when you are his in public spaces (and he wishes for you to know how exactly you are his, most precious one).

Centered upon the plush of the carpet spread beneath, as you kneel upright, and back: a firm rod. Hardly a task, with how like heaven, the fibers of the rug feel against your naked legs; the luxurious support much needed, especially when Divus hooks a gloved index beneath your collar and tugs for obedience.

The man likes to see you greet him, from your place at his feet, in the bedroom. Inching towards him on all fours — you are not allowed the use of your limbs in any other manner, left to the mercy and support of your Master alone — tucking a kiss onto his gloved palm when he offers it your way in affection. And if you please him, he descends on a knee, to be eye-level with his beloved and kiss her, until all that trails and leaks from that senseless mouth is mewls and the string of your combined spit he wipes against your lip with a firm, gloved thumb.

If you are an even better girl, and beg well, he lets you follow him further into the room. Settling upon the plush, velvet chair as he spreads those lean, muscled thighs apart and instructs your presence in between. Zipper and placket he only allows your teeth to touch and undo; gentle strikes warning away any hands that turn desperate in seeking him, quick and deep down your throat.

Divus is never inattentive when his favorite girl’s mouth is around him. Gunmetal gray fixed upon the swell of your lips around his cock, throat he feels constricting futile around the length of him as you try and struggle to accommodate all of him at once. Stroking and tucking stray locks away to soothe your nerves, he moves to assist. Sweeping the blade of his paddle beneath your chin to lift as he commands, slow and deliberate, “Now, swallow.” And as you do, allowing his cockhead to slip deeper into your throat. “There you go, you’re doing so well, you good puppy.”

(If) A poly relationship with Malleus and Leona, D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

The two of them together are very proprietorial over their favorite human; it takes time, trust exercises and a lot of physical and emotional intimacy, for you and them to adjust to this balance in your relationship. The two princes have, for as far as they can remember, been allowed to call and possess whatever they wished for, as theirs. Malleus, in particular, has never truly wished before, to obtain any other, as much as he does you. Their love isn’t a fluke — rather it tends to mistranslate at times, into a need to rule over all that you are. It takes time to interpret their misgivings and deal with them; to know and understand: they have no desire to erase your identity as a person, only wishing to keep you near and close at all times.

Them not being able to whisk you out of people’s sight in public — people who displease them, men too close to you for their own good — doesn’t mean that control translates well into propriety in the bedroom.

Leona likes to have your bodies, slick, of sweat and release, sliding against each other. Draped over your skin like a shadow — one and the same — your back pressed flush against the firm muscled glide of his chest. Broad, rough tongue tracing aggressive strokes against the crescent of your neck, shoulders, your spine. Leaving evidence upon evidence of saliva and teeth, wherever he can sink them into you. And when he spurts into you, each and every place he makes sure you know belongs to him and the Dragon, just theirs.

Withdrawing a still hard cock from deep within your quivering depths. The bulk of his release abundant enough it slides thick and seeps out of you in a slow, erotic drip with the pull of him out from within. Until he, or Malleus, can get back to plugging you right back up.

Your back painted in thick, musky ropes of release, your face, your tongue: when the prince of Savannah slips a thumb beneath your chin and tugs it open, pressing his cock into your mouth, to drink him down, until your senses are so entirely full of him. Leona is almost akin to an animal; marking his mate up to avert and warn away other small fry from ever laying hands upon what is his.

Malleus is kinder in his approach towards their future Queen; adequate foreplay and low, candid words of love and adoration spoken — enough to cover for both him and Leona — a requirement, to drench and arouse her, if she is to accept both of his cocks within her walls.

And fortunately, Malleus is natural enough in his earnest care and direct, explicit questions, to know when and how exactly you desire him at the moment. That, however, does not mean the future King of the Valley of Thorns doesn’t like to see you fall ruined for him — a hunger as acute as Leona’s, but far subtle, in how he wishes it drawn out of you. In your raw, desperate tears when Leona Kingscholar has their little human so tight within his grip; the wet slap of skin against skin, harsh and clear enough, as he pounds into your ass, it feels as if the beast might entirely break you.

Your tears of frustration and agonized pleasure — the utter want on your face, for your future king as you beg for him to take you too. Sweeping his tongue against sharp canines, lest Malleus lets himself smile too wide; a careful finger he brushes against your lashes — glittering as if jewels forged upon them, of your tears, his cocks twitch at the sight — before questioning you, “Where do you want me, my love? Be clear, I am here for you.”

“I-Inside… inside me, Malleus, please. I want to feel you i-inside!”

That thrill of pleasure he isn’t able to suppress, breaking apart on a pleased smile as he feathers a kiss against your lips and grants, “Very well. For you, little one, I would do anything.”

Ryomen Sukuna, N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs) [a lot of non-con and dark themes for this one, if you’d like to forgo this headcanon, for your peace of mind)

[I touched upon this once before, in these brief headcanons and would like to expand on it] Sukuna isn’t one to share any of his precious possessions and if you happen to be one… abandon any and all notions of ever having the chance — let alone thoughts — to lay your eyes upon another being, man or curse, for as long you live. And if it is on his whims and desires, he might not stop even at death, might condemn your soul to the depths of Hell, to wander the ages for all of eternity, as a cursed spirit, bound to her King.

Sukuna will have you; your gaze, your body, your mind, all his, to make or break, with the single twitch of a cruel index. And if you ever, so much as misconstrue his ‘affections’ as humanity, ever attempt misuse of his ‘generosity’ in keeping you close. In having you be the only woman he fucks for his pleasure, the only body he allows to be filled with his seed, and shattered by him.

And then, turn — no matter how brief — for comfort and intimacy towards another man…

Sukuna will find and tear apart, bit by minuscule bit, whatever low, filthy mongrel dares dream of desiring what belongs to the King of Curses. Watch and relish each single sound of despair that croaks through that terrified insect’s mouth. Make it watch, moments before its piteous death, as he shoves you down on his cock to jostle your screams of pleasure right from your throat. And he will do it all, with little more than an insouciant gaze mocked your way; as if this result was to be expected, and if you’d thought otherwise, you were a fool.

Appeals for mercy for the man’s life are dangerous requests, depending on how volatile Sukuna is, in the moment. It might either earn you both his wrath, or the closest thing to ‘pardon’ you can expect — your doomed lover’s swift death.

As for you, the instigator of your little romantic ploy: he’s going to fuck you full, and fuck you out of all your dreamy ideas of escape, dislodge them violently, with the harsh ingress of his cocks into you. Battering your body until you are splattered inside and out, swollen and broken down, by thick, oozing cum and smatterings of the murdered man’s blood upon your face, from where he slaughtered him, right in front of you.

And then… drag you back up, your gaping slit twitching and aching, stimulated beyond your capability, and roll you back down his lengths to repeat that cycle. Making you realize the actual intensity of the demon who’d held back, all this time, from crushing you entirely. Over and over, until you are mindless and your only pleas are for him to plunge his cocks into you and have his mouth against you; your apologies of how you are his alone, warbled into the thick, murky air.

Lucifer, Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.) [Because we all need a break and some sweet, intense loving after all of that fuckery above LOL]

Quick romps are not what he opts for, especially now that he has you. His past relationships and indulgences were need — a mere exchange of bodily pleasure — and sexual desire requiring to be fulfilled and Lucifer usually preferred being done with his business as quick as possible, before bidding farewell to his partner of the night.

But with you, it is not his preferred means of expressing his sexual wants. Lucifer likes to take his time when he has you within his arms and in his bed, and any potential interruptions are only but a deterrent to extracting your pleasure, slow and smooth, like he desires. His fingers gliding across the plush of your thighs, tracing the slick slide of your slit before curving inside. His tongue following next, as he has your legs saddled about his shoulders, until you are begging and weeping for mercy (and his cock to relieve you of that desolate emptiness within clenching walls). All, his personal sweet stimulations to have you utterly ruined in love, in privacy and peace of your bedroom.

End Notes: Thank you for reading!

♧° Link to Master List °♡

[caydesgirl-uldrensprincess]

Her || Crow x OC (Smut)

Fandom: Destiny 2

Pairing: Crow/Oc

Warnings: Sexual content, M/F sex, romance, some fluff, but mostly sex

Summary: Crow and Isabelle are in the mood and can't help but give in, save for the interruption from young Lukas.

A/N: I never write this sorts of stuff cause I'm terrible at it, but I thought I'd give it a go 😅

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Crow looked at Isabelle as she laughed at something he had said. Her laugh was beautiful. He loved the way her sapphire eyes closed and crinkled, how her nose scrunched up, and how the smile spread across her face.

His heart skipped a beat. He could hear her laugh forever.

They were sitting on the couch in the living room of their shared apartment. They were just talking and drinking red wine while a random movie on Disney+ played on the TV above the electric fireplace. From the sound of it, it could've been Robin Hood. Crow wasn't really interested, he was interested in the Awoken woman in next him.

Isabelle stopped laughing with a heavy breath. She still smiled and looked at Crow. One of her legs were tossed carelessly over Crow's lap, whole the other was tucked underneath her.

"Damn, I can't believe Spider didn't bloody kill you pulling that stunt," She said, taking a sip of her wine before setting it on the coffee table.

"What can I say, it was the most effective way to get rid of the Hive," Crow replied, his hand resting on the leg Isabelle tossed over his lap.

"Maybe you should show me sometime," Isabelle suggested, leaning closer.

"You're starting to sound like a hunter," Crow's voice grew husky, "I like that."

"Only for research purposes."

Crow leaned in until their faces were pretty much touch. Isabelle was the one who closed the gap, kissing Crow slowly, but passionately.

He pulled Isabelle onto his lap as they started to make out on the couch. He dug his fingers into Isabelle's hips, bringing her in closer. She moaned aginst his lips.

Since coming to the tower, Crow and Isabelle had a lot more alone time to each other. Most of that alone time was spent tangled up in the sheets, but Crow did relearned a lot of things about his wife. Like how she likes her tea or how much of a clean freak she is. Crow also learned that he was the father a young six and a half year old, who goes by the name Lukas Aiden Sov.

Isabelle pulled away and started to trail kisses along his jawline. She nibbled Crow's earlobe gently, earning a groan of pleasure from him. Crow bit his bottom lip as his wife started to roll her hips against his already growing erection. It was like waves of pure ecstacy hitting him head on.

"The things you do to me, Hummingbird," Crow said.

"Oh, Crow, you do much worse to me just by looking in my general direction," Isabelle chuckled, unbottoning the Hunter's shirt and and sliding it off his shoulders, throwing the garment across the living room.

She trailed her hands down Crow's pecs and stomach, stopping at the waistband of the slacks he wore.

"A bit eager?" Crow chuckled, pressing a kiss just under Isabelle's ear.

"Shut up," the warlock purred, pressing another kiss to Crow's lips.

The hunter removed Isabelle's purple blouse by unbottoning it and sliding it off her shoulds. Crow pressed gentle kisses to the rise of Isabelle's breasts and the valley between them.

"Mummy, Daddy?" Came Lukas's voice from behind them.

Crow pulled his lips away from Isabelle's chest, pulling her tightly against his chest. He closed his eyes and sighed.

"Yes, Luke?" He asked.

"I had a bad dream," The boy said.

"Okay, go back to your room and I'll be there in a second," Crow replied.

The sound of small footsteps climbing up the staircase was heard. Isabelle chuckled, pressing a small kiss to the Hunter's cheek.

"Look at you taking the initiative to help Lukas get to sleep," She said getting up and picking her's and Crow's shirts off the ground.

"I'm is father aren't I?" Crow stated, slipping the white button up on then adjusting the erection in his pants.

"That you are, my dear husband," Isabelle smiled, "I'll be in our bedroom."

Crow followed Isabelle up the floating staircase. He watched as she went to the room on the far side of the hallway and disappeared. The hunter chuckled before entering his son's room.

Lukas was sitting in bed, clutching an Eliskni plush (who he named McStuffy). Crow sat on the edge of his bed and took the boy into his arms.

"So, you had a bad dream?" He asked

Lukas buried his head in his father's chest.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"It was really scary," The awoken boy said, "You and Mummy died, forever, and left me alone."

"Oh, Lukas," Crow held him close, running a soothing hand over Lukas's back, "Your mother and I will always be here, you don't have to worry."

Crow pointed to Lukas's chest, indicating his heart.

The young boy nodded, "Promise?"

The hunter smiled sadly, "That's something I can't promise, but I can promise that you will have us for a long as possible."

The awoken boy nodded again, snuggling into his father's chest once more.

Crow started to rock him back and softly sing a lullaby to him. It was from a Disney movie Lukas was watching earlier that evening before going to bed. The boy started snoring softly in Crow's arm. The hunter smiled and laid him down and tucked him in.

"Sweet dreams, little one," He said, placing a kiss on the sleeping boy's forehead.

Crow left Lukas's bedroom and went to the room he shared with Isabelle. He opened the door and went in, closing it behind him.

"Lukas is out like a li-" Crow frozen in the middle of his sentence as he found Isabelle laying seductively on the bed, wearing nothing but a lacy pink bra and matching panties

"Let's finish what we started, huh?" Isabelle asked, her sapphire eyes swimming with lust.

"I fucking love you," Crow smiled, taking his shirt off again and strutting over to his wife.

He crawled on top of her and pressed his lips to hers.  Isabelle hummed and returned the kiss, running her fingers through Crow's raven locks. 

"Still hard," She said, bucking her hips against Crow's erection.

"It's a miracle Lukas didn't ask any questions," He replied, trailing kisses down Isabelle's neck and chest.

Crow reached behind her and unclasped Isabelle's bra. He pulled the garment off and threw it behind him. Crow pressed his tongue to Isabelle's right breast and swirled his around the nub, hardening it to a point. The warlock moaned breathlessly, tugging Crow's hair.

He swapped breasts and did the same thing. Crow started grind his hip into Isabelle's clothed core.

"Crow, stop bloody teasing!" Isabelle exclaimed, her English accent coming out slightly pitched.

Crow moaned, "Be patient, my beloved wife."

Isabelle pulled him back up to her lips, slipping her tongue inside Crow's mouth. Her hands trailed down to his belt, unbuckling it and undoing his slacks. He got the message and pulled away from the kiss long enough to take the slacks off. Isabelle pulled Crow back to her, making sure he was on the bottom.

"Isabelle," He said, admiring her body from the new angle, "you look absolutely breathtaking."

The Warlock smiled before she leaned down and started to trail kisses along his jawline again then down to his navel. Crow watched as a mischievous look flashed in Isabelle's eyes. Before he knew it, his wife hooked her fingers under the hem if his boxers and pulled them down. His hard erection spang free, pre-cum leaking from the tip.

A purplish blush dusted Crow's cheeks as Isabelle pressed a kiss to his cock. A moan left his mouth as her thumb swiped the head. Her tongue found its way to the base of his shaft and licked a line up to the tip. Crow bucked his hips at the feeling, earning a giggle from Isabelle. He couldn't help, but look at her, she looked beautiful, even if she was giving him a blowjob. Isabelle took him in her mouth bobbing her head up and down, hollowing her cheeks .

Crow let out loud moan, as his head fell back onto the pillows and his eyes rolled up to the back of his skull. His hips bucked as Isabelle's tongue worked its magic. One of her hands slid up Crow's thigh, void energy pulsing through her fingertips and onto his skin. Crow caught his breath, feeling like he was on the edge.

"Isabelle, come here, I wanna finish inside you," He managed.

The Awoken female smiled and crawled on top of him. One of Crow's hands found Isabelle's waist. He smiled as her sapphire eyes met his amber ones.

"I know I said this earlier, but have to say this again," Crow said, using his other hand to cup her cheek, "I love you."

"I love you, too," Isabelle replied with a smile, leaning down to kiss Crow.

He returned the kiss as he flipped the both of them over, so that he was now on top. He pulled away from Isabelle's lips. The hand on Isabelle’s waist found its way to her panties and slowly slipped them off her. He readied himself at her entrance, pushing into her gently. Isabelle moaned as she kissed Crow again. When he was fully inside her, he started to thrust his hips. He kept a slow rhythm as he and Isabelle moaned softly- making love.

Solar and Void mixed perfectly. Sliding, pushing, and pulling never felt so good. Crow felt Isabelle's fingers dig into his back. Surely to leave marks in the morning. The sounds falling from Isabelle's mouth was like a sweet melody that harmonized with his own.

How was he this lucky to be married to a woman this beautiful both inside and out? Crow had no idea. A woman so caring, kind, loving, passionate, understanding, intelligent, and charismatic should not even exist, it was simply impossible. But here was living proof in his arms, coming undone by his touch and his touch alone.

Isabelle arched her back against Crow's chest as he sped up his thrusting. He pressed feather light kisses to Isabelle's neck and collar.

His love for her was something he couldn't describe. Trying to would cause catastrophic results. But he would simply do anything and everything he can for her and their son.

"Crow," Isabelle mewled, her head lolling back.

Her bubble gum pink hair clung to the sweat forming on her forehead. The purplish blush on her ears spread to her cheeks, neck and chest. Crow groaned as her walls tightened around his cock.

"Hummingbird," He muttered back in her ear.

"Fuck, I'm close, Crow," Isabelle moaned, wrapping her legs around his torso, quivering under his touch.

Crow sped up his thrusting. Isabelle's moans increased, curses slipped passed her lips. He felt her tighten around him one last time before her orgasm hit, cumming all over his cock. He finished a few minutes later, his seed spilling inside her.

They both panted heavily. Crow pressed gentle kisses to Isabelle's forehead before pulling out and collapsing on his side of the bed.

He heard Isabelle chuckle, "That was the best sex, we've ever had."

"You could say that again," The hunter said.

"Wanna join me for a late night shower?"

"You know I do."

The couple chuckled again before getting up and heading to the master bathroom.

[silverdragon-imagines-blog]

A Glitched Death - Chapter 5 - The Save Screen

Read it on AO3

Warning(s): Flashbacks

Other news first: I said I was planning on updating this twice a month next year, but that doesn't look like it'll happen. Once a month updates will resume. Otherwise, next year, I'm going to (try to) do monthly live streams on Picarto. It'll either be for Glitched Death or my other fandom: Linked Universe. Or video games, we'll see. I hope you're all enjoying this story as much as I am, we haven't even gotten to the next big plot point yet, and all of your comments and kudos really make me glad I'm sticking with it ^U^ Thank you.

Reaper would never admit to how tired his new job was making him. Not to his brother and especially not to Geno. Though he must be losing his acting ability since Geno immediately called him out on his bullshit the second he stepped foot in the Save Screen.

“You really need to take better care of yourself,” Geno huffed, dragging Reaper by the hand towards the couch that had been gifted to him. Reaper chuckled at how forceful his friend was, trying to make him rest by pulling him over the armrest so he landed face-first onto the plush fabric.

“I know, I know,” Reaper spoke through the puffy beige fabric of the couch, “just had a lot of work to do recently, barely any time to sleep.”

“Honestly, since when does work keep you from slacking off to come and see me? That’s so unlike you Reaps.”

Reaper could hear the almost pout in his voice, and he chuckled a bit until he felt his smile start to become sad. ‘So similar to each other...’

“Since when do you want me to slack off? Thought you kept telling me to get off of my lazy butt last time I was here,” Reaper chuckled, lifting his head onto his hands so he could watch as Geno sputtered and flushed at his words.

“Y-you’re twisting my words against me!” he finally screamed, flinging one of the ugly brown throw pillows at Reaper’s face. “You were sitting on me when I fell asleep on this stupid couch and you wouldn’t move you utter ass!”

“Whatever you say, Geno~” Reaper sang out his name, making said skeleton huff again in annoyance and turn away from him.

"Remind me again why I decided to befriend you."

“Oh let me count the ways~” Reaper sang again, and the other practically fell over trying to smother Reaper with the pillow.

Reaper laughed, the sound muffled from the force behind the smothering, and when the pressure was finally let up, Reaper could see how a smile worked its way onto the other's face despite fighting to hold a pout. Geno wasn't going to give him the satisfaction, and he knows that he was going to be ignored until Geno decided he was done being annoyed at him. Laughter tapering off into a sigh, Reaper flipped over onto his back to stare up into the “sky” of the Save Screen, and let his mind wander. Though his thoughts would always turn to Geno, his Geno that is, and not the copy he was currently being ignored by.

He knows it's not healthy to linger on the should haves and that he really did need to move on from his little Geno, and yet he couldn’t help but think that the other was still out there somewhere, waiting for him. But he had looked everywhere, hadn’t he? No one from that original timeline remembered anything that happened. It always hurt to know that he could have looked harder, should have looked much more and for far longer than he had. At the very least, he should’ve made an effort to spend time with him before. . . He should’ve been there, he should’ve --

“Reaps? You’re getting that look on your face again.” the fake Geno said.

“Hm? Oh, it’s nothing. Just a little tired,” Reaper lied, rubbing at his face where he knew cyan tears were gathering in the corners of his eyes. “What were you saying?”

Geno didn’t say anything for a while, just watching as Reaper rubbed at his sockets, concern growing evident on his face.

“. . . I’m worried about you Reaper. Ever since we’ve met, you’ve gotten… sadder the longer you’ve been around me. I-is it something I've done?”

Reaper froze. He never thought that he’d been so obvious with his feelings, trying to keep them hidden so that he could try again with this Geno. He swore he had managed to keep it all contained so well, for so long, but what good that was doing him now. Why is it now of all times that he’s breaking down? He was so good at pretending, faking being happy spending time with someone who looked so similar to his lost love until he was sure that it was starting to become actual happiness if not contentment. Why now of all times was he about to lose it?

“Are you ever tell me the truth and say what’s wrong?” Geno spoke again, this time leaning over Reaper’s face so they made eye-contact.

Reaper just stared straight ahead, not wanting to ruin the one good thing he had going for him, no matter how much it kills him inside. Then Geno tried to touch him, to cup his hand on the side of Reaper’s face, and the action had Reaper shortcutting off the couch, walking away from Geno before he lost what little control over himself he had left.

“Reaper? Reaps, wait!” Geno yelled, his slippered feet getting closer to where Reaper stood, motionless, “W-we don’t have to talk, j-just stay here okay? C-C’mon Reaps, you only got here a few minutes ago.”

Reaper made no move that he heard any of what Geno said, simply staring at him as Geno reached for his hand, holding it in a way that made his soul clench painfully at the care in the familiar motions.

“I-I care about you, Reaps.”

And Reaper shattered.

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~ ”Haha, oh Geno, you’re so cute,” Reaper laughed, wheezing slightly and clutching at his side where his ribs were broken.

“I’m trying to be serious you utter ass!” Geno shrieked, letting go of the other’s hand to throw the bandages he had been holding at his injured boyfriend.

“I can’t believe you. You show up here, almost fainting on top of me from magic loss and pain, only to laugh like a fucking child when I try to help bandage you up! Is this how you react to Respite when he says he cares about you?!” Geno’s voice got higher pitched as he yelled at Reaper, who only giggled at how annoyed his boyfriend was getting.

“Oh, c’mon now Geno. I’m not that bad, right?” Reaper teased, reaching for the bandages that landed next to him, placing his injured hand back on Geno’s lap, “Besides, Gen, you love me anyway, don’t you?”

“I do and I hate it,” Geno sighed, fondly smiling.

They fell to silence for a while. Reaper stealing glances at the other, while he worked on stopping the wounds from bleeding out any more. It was comfortable, and Reaper felt content, thinking about how lucky he was that he had someone like Geno. Then he got an idea.

“I’ll tell you what, Gen, once I’m all bandaged up, how about I grab Res and we can all watch a movie later. I’ll grab a bunch and you chose which ones we watch. Sound like fun?”

Geno seemed to think for a moment before he spoke again, completely deadpan.

“I dunno Reaps, I might try to get your brother to agree that you’re horrible to the both of us and make him disown you.”

Reaper squawked in mock offense, hand on his chest and mouth agape as Geno’s expression cracked into a smirk, barely holding in laughter.

“I can’t believe this, first my beloved boyfriend and now my brother? Who would do such a thing?” Reaper attempted to fall back on the couch they were on, only for Geno to pull on his arm. Hard.

“Ow, fuck, Geno! That hurt!”

“S-sorry, sorry! I didn’t mean to do that!” Geno scrambled to help Reaper get comfortable again, then gently lifted his boyfriend’s arm to see what the damage was. “Nothing got worse, thankfully, but it is technically your own damn fault you drama king.”

“I prefer the term drama Lord, thank you very much.” Reaper snarked, a shit-eating grin on his face while Geno rolled his eye.

“Yes yes, your majesty,” he sighed, smiling as he lifted Reaper’s hand and kissed the back of it, “You're lucky I love you.”

Reaper smiled back.

“And I wouldn’t trade my luck for anything in the entire Multiverse, because I love you too.”~

[artistic-writer]

Between Now and Nether :: Epilogue :: A CS AU [complete]

Title: Between Now and Nether by @artistic-writer [full res fanart]

Summary: On their way to a Nolan Charity Gala, tragedy befalls Emma and Killian who is given just seven days to set things right.  Can he make Emma believe and escape the Nether before he is lost forever?

Rating: T+/M

AO3 Chapters: [1] - [2] - [3] - [4] - [5] - [6] - [7] - [8] - [9] - [10] - [11] - [12] -[13] - [14] - [15] - [16] - [17] - [Epilogue] Fanart Full Resolution: [1] - [2] - [3] - [4] - [5] - [6] - [7] - [8] - [9] - [10] - [11] - [12] - [13] - [14] - [15]- [16] - [17] - [Epilogue]

A/N: Here lies the final chapter of Between Now and Nether!  I am actually crying as i post this, but that might be the hair dye (bye bye blue hair!).  The journey with this fic as one of my only completed CS MC’s has been a fun one, with some many of you sending me comments of loveliness (and some not so much #sorrynotsorry).  Behold - daddy!killian feels!

I would like to AGAIN thank @kmomof4 for betaing this entire project like a boss - mama K, I love you so much and at points, I have been glad for the ocean between us.  Not that i feared for my life or anything ;)  If any of you want, Krystal has this ability to describe a chapter in a single gif, so go ask her opinion before you read it :)

@hollyethecurious my wonderful friend, fellow January baby and kindred spirit when it comes to angst, whump and generally putting our beloved OTP through the ringer before their HE, I thank you.  If it wasn’t for your muse and my muse sunning it up in far-off lands without us, this would have probably been finished before Christmas, but for all the time i faltered on details and needed a guiding opnion, you were there.  You are my person and i would not hesitate to hide the bodies for you ;)

@resident-of-storybrooke thankyou for letting me watch you read a chapter live over webcam, even if you did tell me to ‘fuck myself’.  I consider that kind of reaction a win win as an author, so yay!  Here’s to fucking myself! *raises drink*  And see, I told you, happy ending ;)

If you have requested a tag and have continued with this story, your name should be below - if it is not I am a terrible person and all i can do is apologise for losing you in the rabble, but know you are no less loved for seeing this through to the end!  I read a post not that long ago, about fandom stats regarding people who read fics vs people who leave kudos and comments according to the target audience of the market at the time.  In advertising, i believe the target is a 2% return in acknowledgment and you guys have made BNAN smash that, which a 4.8% return in views vs kudos!  So, thank you all so much, i love you all!

Taglist: @mariakov81 @rouhn @hollyethecurious @kmomof4 @resident-of-storybrooke@hookedonapirate @galadriel26 @aye-captn @the-captains-ayebrows@yayimallamaagain @i-nvr-wrote-it @officerrogerss@kiwistreetswan@wellhellotragic@depechemode75 @distant-rose @yrellow-bugs-and-pirate-ships @courtorderedcake @wellhellotragic  @followbatb

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There was a time, when he had felt the warmth leave his body and had been trapped in the Nether, that Killian Jones had feared he might never see the moment Emma Swan had made him the happiest man in the world.  When she had agreed to marry him, none the wiser for his recent week long absence and struggle to get back to her, he was overcome with tears of joy that had burned lines so deep into his face that he thought he might still feel them.

Emma had looked beautiful.  Her dress, tailored by the famous seamstress Belle French, was a marvel, elegant enough to be refined by itself and not take a single glimpse of the bride’s beauty away from the awe inspired crowd.  The gathering was small, with just them, the Nolan’s and some other close family friends, and Killian will never forget the look of surprise on Graham Humbert’s face when he asked him to be his best man.  With a puzzled expression but a smile of pride Graham had accepted, none the wiser why Killian had even asked him.

How could he have not?  If it hadn’t been for him, Killian might never have made it back to his family and for that, he would be forever, albeit secretively, grateful.

“Don’t worry,” Graham laughed, watching Killian pace the hospital hallway.  The thick tread of his work boots squeaked against the polished tiled floor as he paced, his hand brushing some wayward strands of hair from his forehead.

“They said it would be soon,” Killian huffed, feeling himself halt when Graham laid his hand on his shoulder.

“These things take time,” Graham smiled, offering his friend a reassuring nod.

Killian's hands shook as he patted Graham’s with his own, mirroring his small, tight lipped smile with his weaker one.  Graham has been more of a friend than Killian could have ever imagined since the academy days.  Once Emma had taken her maternity leave, the rookie had been assigned to his charge, Graham’s gusto and resilience in the face of the Gold case not going unnoticed by the commissioner.

He trusted him with his life as a colleague, partner and more importantly a friend.  It meant a lot that he was the voice of reason right now as Kilian was slowly wearing a track into the floor of the off white, fluorescently lit corridor.  It had been his makeshift home for the last six hours, the steady buzz of overhead lighting and the mechanical beep of machines his only company when after thirty six hours of active labor, Emma had passed out and been rushed to surgery.

“It won’t be long, I promise,” Graham offered again.  Killian let his weight fall back against the wall, the paintwork scuffed across the white at waist height from the inevitable collision with hospital equipment.  

“It’s been over three hours since our last update,” Killian barked angrily.

“She’s strong,” Graham said firmly, his own voice quivering a little in his throat.

“She’s the strongest person we know,” Killian mumbled sadly, sliding down the wall until he was crumbled on the floor, head hanging between his knees.  Killian felt Graham’s hand on the back of his head but he did not look up.

“Mr. Jones?”  A small voice called from the nearby room he had recently been evicted from.  The woman was small and much older than him and he instantly recognised her as Emma’s midwife.

“Emma?” He scrambled to his feet, clawing at Graham’s arms as he pulled his friend up to his feet.

“Emma is fine,” The midwife smiled sweetly, stepping from the room and closing the door softly behind her.  Killian brushed his palms over his rumpled shirt, the clamminess seemingly stuck to his skin with the rush of adrenaline hearing the words had caused.  Emma, his Emma, was fine.

“And the baby?” Graham interjected from behind Killian who gulped hard, looking between the two of them and finally resting his expectant gaze on the midwife.  She paused, an eternal beat of time that Killian wished he could have sped up just like in the Om.

“A beautiful baby girl,” she grinned widely.  “Healthy and perfect in every way.”

Killian almost jumped into Graham’s arms when the man spun him around and pulled him into a crushing hug.  Hours of fatigue finally caught up with him and his defenses crumbled, the hot sting of tears pricking at the corner of Killian’s eyes and blurring his vision.  He buried his face into Graham’s shoulder, soaking his shirt with tears as two manly thumps of congratulations echoed through his back and chest.

“I told you,” Graham smirked with relief.  Killian pulled away from him and looked at his feet whilst he wiped at his tears, running his hand down his face and letting his stubble, that was edging on a full beard, absorb the salty droplets.

“Strongest person we know,” Killian smiled exuberantly and shook the hand Graham offered him.

Graham raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching sideways into a smirk.  “You haven’t met your daughter yet,” he reminded Killian.

As if a sudden realisation had hit him, Killian turned back to the midwife, his heart pounding in his chest and his face turning white.  He had known about his daughter for far longer than anyone else, but now he was suddenly terrified of the very notion of seeing her for the first time.  Since the wedding, which had happened so quickly after his return from the Nether, Killian had devoted so much of his time to make sure that Emma and the baby had everything they could ever need.  Emma was constantly telling him to stop fussing, but Killian had not, insisting on the very best for them.

Before Emma was too pregnant, they had decorated the nursery.  A splash of blue colour on the wall opposite the window turned purple in the sunlight as it spilled through the sheer, pink drapes they had hung.  The dark wood of the furniture contrasted with the plush, white carpet and was accented perfectly with the soft, pink linen that was tucked into the crib.  They had decided that since she would most likely be their little princess, that she should be treated like one, so Mary Margaret, who as it turned out was a great artist, had painted a fairytale castle and part of an enchanted forest on one of the walls.  David had insisted on as many Disney toys as possible, filling the nursery with a huge Dumbo plush, a smaller Sven (because she WOULD like Frozen) and a tiny mini set of plushies from Snow White and the Seven Dwarves.

“Would you like to meet her?”  The midwife again shook Killian from his reverie and Graham nudged him in the back.  “And I know Emma would love to see you.”

Killian nodded and when the midwife pushed the door open, he stepped through it almost silently.  There was a soft yellow glow of light over Emma’s bed and she was sitting up with her arms crossed over her chest, the blankets tucked around her legs and a smile on her face.  She looked exhausted, her alabaster face a stark contrast to the pink of her cheeks and the green of her eyes as she gazed upon their daughter in her arms.

“Hey, love,” Killian whispered as he stepped closer and his hand crept up to scratch behind his ear.

Emma looked up at him with the love only a parent can hold for their child plastered on her face, lighting up her eyes to an even more vibrant shade of emerald than before.  She couldn’t hold back the tears as they fell, rolling over the apple of her cheeks silently and falling from her chin to the blanket below as she held out her hand for him.

They had no need for words as Killian gripped her fingers in his, letting her pull him towards her and immediately planting his lips to her brow.  His other hand smoothed over the back of her head, holding it to his lips as he inhaled the medical scent of hospital from her hair and fought with the shake of his lips against her skin.

“I thought I’d lost you,” Killian sobbed, his emotional state already well and truly compromised before he had even laid eyes of his daughter.  “Both of you.”  Emma nudged her head harder against his face, loving the way his fingers tickled behind her ear and his lips ghosted over her temple.

“No chance,” Emma laughed, her voice watery in the back of her throat.  She looked down at the tiny bundle in her arms and smiled harder.  “We are not going anywhere.”  Emma pulled her hand from Killian’s so that she could touch the tiny fingers of their daughter, the skin to skin contact something she had found so addictive already she thought she might never let her go.

“Oh, Emma, she’s so beautiful,” Killian grinned but was instantly taken by surprise when the boom of his voice made the tiny tot twitch in Emma’s arms.  “She has your nose,” he whispered softly, cupping the pink baby bonnet covered head of his daughter in his gigantic palm.

“She has your ears,” Emma purred sweetly, tracing the outline of the baby’s elvish ears with the tip of her finger.  The little girl scrunched up her face and balled her fist, grabbing the edge of the hospital issue blanket she was wrapped in before letting out a small, content sigh.

“Sorry about that, poppet,” Killian murmured at his daughter as he leaned over and pressed his lips to her forehead.  She was so small Killian thought he might break her, his hands shaking as he brushed his lips over her soft, warm scalp.  “Daddy’s sorry.”

Emma caught his attention as he pulled away from the babe, clutching the side of his scruffy cheek and pulling his face to her mouth.  She pressed her lips to his cheek, tiny prickles of stubble poking her lips and making them itch across her smile as she hummed against Killian’s face.  “I like the sound of that.”

“Daddy?” Killian raised an eyebrow at her.

“It suits you,” Emma smiled at him, scooting sideways on the bed and inviting him to perch beside her with a pat on the starchy hospital blanket.

“Now it does, but what am I going to do when she is sixteen and hates me?  I’m sure she will have a more colourful moniker for me then,” Killian laughed nervously, gazing back at his sleeping daughter.  “She’s so perfect like this.  Can’t she just stay this small and call me Daddy forever?”  Killian reached out and touched the softness of the baby’s cheek, feeling his worries fade away when the side of her mouth curved up into a reflexive smile.

“I think she’ll always call you Daddy,” Emma told him softly, watching their daughter yawn in her arms.

“And what do we call this little mite?” Killian cooed at the baby.  “We should give you a name, shouldn’t we?”

Emma pulled the baby closer to her chest when she started to wriggle in her arms, feeling the warmth of the tot through the material of the blanket she was wrapped in.  “Something meaningful,” Emma beamed proudly.  “Something that speaks volumes about who she is and what she means to us.”

Killian lifted his leg and finally perched on the edge of the bed, wrapping a big, strong arm around both Emma and the baby.  His fingers traced lazy circles under the sleeve of Emma’s gown and goose bumps sprang up from her skin, begging for more of his touch.  Emma was right, and she didn’t even know it.  Killian was the only one with memories of his time in the Nether, even though things had adjusted somewhat in their favour since his return.  Leroy was in prison and the threat from Gold was non-existent now that he was on his way to a supermax somewhere in the deserts of New Mexico.

The whole time he was away, Killian knew there was only one thing he knew, he needed to have, more than anything.  One thing that he needed to make sure Emma felt, and continued to feel so that he could return home to them both.  Without it, they would have drifted apart, Killian stuck without his family, and Emma in a forever state of sorrow.  Hope is what kept them strong and what held them together.

“Hope,” Killian whispered lovingly, resting the side of his head of Emma’s.  “Hope Jones.”

The second they were home with their brand new bundle of joy, Emma and Killian were invaded by the Nolans.  David and Mary Margaret had children of their own, but it seemed that when somebody else had one, Mary Margaret was set into an instant state of brooding that gave David a worried look on his face.  Killian couldn’t help but chuckle as David had held Hope in his arms, the smile of pride quickly turning into one of panic the second Mary Margaret had mentioned another.

Emma was feeling a little better.  Sore, but better.  She had spent an extra week inside of the hospital because of some slight complications following her surgery, but the doctors were now confident she would be okay at home.  It probably had something to do with the incessant way Killian fussed over her whilst she was in the ward, but he didn’t care if they thought he was overbearing in the slightest.  If they had any idea what he had gone through to get back to them both, they might have understood.

Even Captain Lucas had visited them both, bringing with her a little stuffed wolf cub toy for Hope and a fruit basket from the entire precinct for Emma.  There was something about work that always lit up Emma’s face, and she was excited to see all of her colleagues, especially Graham who she had wanted to thank for being there with Killian at the hospital for so long.  Things had returned to how they used to be, all three of them spending more time together socially and getting on without the animosity there once was.  Killian felt like Emma had her old friend back, he had made a new one with someone he had no idea had so much in common with himself, and he was an invaluable crutch during the end of Emma’s pregnancy.

As he waved goodbye to another set of visitors and pushed the front door closed with a soft click, Killian breathed a hefty sigh.  If having a child wasn’t tiring enough, constantly catering to the whim of guest after guest would be the end of him.  Or so he thought, until he ascended the stairs on muffled footsteps, entered the nursery and saw the love of his life gently swaying with his daughter in her arms.

“Alright, love?” He called softly as he entered the recently decorated room.  The faintest smell of paint lingered in the air, but it would soon fade and be replaced by the sweetness of baby products.  “You look tired.”

“I’m exhausted,” Emma laughed a little, offering him Hope as a tiny, swaddled bundle of fleshy softness.  The tot was wrapped tightly in the hospital blankets she came home in (Mary Margaret had sworn by its swaddling ability) with a pink cotton cap covering her delicate head.  She was soundly asleep and didn’t even move as they transferred her between them.

“I still cannot believe we have a child,” Killian smiled, looking down at Hope in awe.

“She’s amazing, isn’t she?” Emma fawned, watching her husband gently rock the baby in his powerful arms.  Sliding her phone out of her back pocket, Emma swiped the camera open and let the lens focus on the scene before her.  It was magical and maybe it was the hormones, but her eyes welled up with fat tears of pride as Emma clicked the button on the side of her phone, and the shutter sound signaled she had taken a photograph.

“She’s perfect,” Killian said softly, looking away from the babe for a second when Emma prompted him for a photo.  “Our little poppet.”

Having a baby was nothing like Killian had imagined.  The books could only prepare you for so much, and they most certainly did not take stock of the number of time you would wake up each night and deprived of sleep, inadvertently stick your finger into the side of a soiled diaper, or how utterly removed from society you would feel.  If Killian was honest with himself, having a baby was very similar to being in the Om;  Time moved so quickly it was gone before you even realised you had it to spare, and there was a constant urgency associated with being apart from Hope for too long.  

Killian felt like he needed to be close to her at all times, not miss a single second, and sometimes even that was not enough.  He wanted to watch her breathe, focus his entire energy on making sure that the tiny thumping of her heartbeat was normal and just as perfect as he had imagined.  Which was why, at three-thirty in the morning every night since she had come home, he had crept into her nursery in anticipation of the inevitable wails that followed, just so he could hold her and let Emma sleep uninterrupted.

“There, there, poppet,” Killian cooed almost silently.  He padded into the nursery barefoot, his pajama pants hanging low on his hips and his bare chest that was covered in a layer of almost black hairs on full display.  He kept the lights off except for a nearby plug in bulb that emitted a soft, pink hued glow around the nursery that was never too bright but just enough to chase away the shadows.

Reaching the dark wood of the crib that he and  David had painstakingly erected mere weeks before Hope’s arrival, Killian leaned over to rest his flattened palm to his daughter's chest.  The tiny beat of her super fast heart pounded against his fingertips and as if by magic, she ceased her fussing and sighed heavily, the screwed up expression she always wore before crying disappearing instantly.  Killian let his hand rest there for a full minute, just taking in the tiny creation before him.

Emma had been right.  Hope had his ears, a smaller, pinker variation, but still undoubtedly curved at the bottom and tapering into an Elfish point.  Along the outside of the shell was a fine dusting of black hair, something that the midwife had assured them she would grow out of, but Killian found endearing and unable to resist, often stroking them softly as she slept or nursed.  

Hope’s hair was as black as night against the paleness of her skin, her tiny transparent eyelids hiding the ocean blue-green eyes that were the perfect mixture of both of her parents.  They had been told they might change, but Killian felt confident that even with his dark hair, Hope had inherited everything else about her mother and her eyes would be just as beautiful as Emma’s and retain their emerald glow.  She had a flush to her chubby cheeks, another of Emma’s traits, and a button nose that squeaked and snuffled with her quickened breathing.  Even in the faint, cherise colouring that cast itself all around her, Hope was a vision of light, everything Killian had imagined she would be and more.  She was perfect.

Killian leaned over the crib and scooped his hand under her soft skull, letting her head flop back into his palm like a warm pillow.  At first, he had been worried about holding her, scared that he would somehow injure her with his strength, but he was starting to realise that babies were more robust than he had imagined and with his second hand under her diaper clad behind, Killian lifted her from the crib.

With a tiny whimper, Hope shifted in his hands.  Just like her mother, she hated to be disturbed a moment sooner than she needed to be, and it made Killian smile at the thought.  “Come now, my little poppet,” Killian soothed gently, holding her against his chest and slowly swaying a little from side to side.  “There’s no need for that now.”  Hope stiffened only slightly as Killian moved to a nearby rocking chair that faced out of the window, the square, padded cushion on the seat pink to match the rest of Hope’s room.  

When he sat down, lowering himself so slowly the muscles in his legs tensed to hold him up, Hope relaxed against his chest, her face turned sideways with the steady beat of his heart under her ear like the rhythmic beat of a lullaby.  Killian folded his arm over his chest, pining Hope’s tiny legs to his chest and supported her back with his other hand.  Hope settled instantly, pinching a bunch of his chest hair in her fingers.

“That’s better isn’t it, my love,” Killian whispered.  “Daddy’s got you.”

Hope let out a tiny wail, the sound catching in the back of her throat as she shifted her face against the coarse hair on Killian’s chest.  Killian began to hum a lullaby his mother used to sing to him when he was a young boy, the words long forgotten but the melody as clear as day in his mind.  He remembered it was an old sea shanty that his grandfather used to sing to her, the calming tune like the song of a siren to children.  With a squeak Hope relaxed again, Killian’s hand moving slowly over the curve of her back and his chest vibrating with a low hum that seemed to calm her agitation.  She would be due a feeding  soon, but until absolutely necessary, Killian would leave Emma as long as he could.

“I know you will not remember this,” he began, inhaling the sweet scent of her in his arms.  She smelled of baby powder and soap and Killian knew that once she aged a little he would miss it instantly.  “But Daddy fought very hard to come home to you.”  Hope let out another small squeal, her tongue clicking the roof of her mouth as she tried to suck an invisible teat.  “Yes, I did,” Killian cooed as if he was answering a question she had posed and before he knew it a single tiny tear of happiness had rolled from his eyelid.  “You made it so that your mother and I could talk between planes of existence, and even though you will never know what that means, you will always be the thing that gave me the tenacity to fight my way home.”  

The tot wailed louder in Killian’s arms and he clutched her to his chest as he stood to his feet.  “You are my light, poppet.  You guided me through the darkness and back to the two people that I love most in this world.”  Killian padded silently out of the room and down the hall towards their bedroom.  Pausing outside of the door, he shifted Hope in his arms until she was laying on her back in the crook of his elbow, her legs instinctively lifting towards her chest and her arms stiffening, outstretched for the comforting curve of her mother’s breasts that meant food.  

Killian wouldn’t mind the crying.  He wouldn’t mind the sleepless nights and he wouldn’t mind the inevitable troubled teens that were sure to follow with a child who was the product of two parents who would fight, with everything they had, for what they loved and believed in.  With a final, loving smile, Killian leaned forward and pressed his lips to Hope’s forehead. “You will never realise why I love you so dearly but it is because you gave me something, in name and in spirit, that kept me going.  You gave me hope.”

[welovekpopscenarios]

Don’t Be Jealous (Jimin x Reader)

Admin: Mimi

Prompt/Ask: Hi um I've never mad a request before so I don't really know how to do this. My request is when jimin gets jealous and becomes super dominant - @thegirlthatdreams3

Fandom: BTS

Genre: Smut

Pairing: Jimin x Reader

Warnings: slight language

Word Count: 1885

Authors Note: You requested just fine! I hope this is to your liking, thank you for the request, I apologise for how long it took! Happy reading!

“Only I should be allowed to look at you like that, baby.”

The hard wall of the dark broom closet was rough and cold against your back as Jimin pinned you to it, his right hand holding your wrists above your head and the other working to pull your dress further down your body and into a pool of fabric at your feet. You would protest about getting undressed in a dirty closet, but one look at Jimin and the words die on your mouth, for Jimin is uncharacteristically serious right now, and dark, lustful glint in his eyes that give a warning and leave you rubbing your thighs together in search of delicious friction.

Attending social parties with Jimin and the others in BTS was nothing new; after all, you were an assistant, having to be on hand to tend to their needs or assist with the duties of their managers. What people didn’t know about you was your relationship with Jimin – one kept behind tightly locked doors, sealed away bolt after bolt, only for you and Jimin to be privy to. Not even his bandmates knew of this, and the feeling of betrayal was a heavy one, but the argument remains the same no matter how guilty you both feel – this was to be kept a secret, for if the public knew of this affair, the backlash would be terrible on both Jimin and yourself, and you’d do anything to avoid having anyone scrutinising him more than the media already does. And so, the relationship was kept private.

But things get awkward when the both of you find yourselves in a public setting together. Not because you’re both afraid the secret will slip and everyone will find out, no, you’re both very careful about that aspect, and make sure to keep things to minimal and fleeting touches of hands that mean promises of more out of everyone’s view. It gets awkward because you often have to watch the throngs of women (and sometimes men) throwing themselves at Jimin’s feet, flirting ridiculously hard in an attempt to win over his already taken affections. The sight always makes you frown irritably, a gag threatening to leave your mouth at every annoying high-pitched giggle that Jimin returns with his own awkward chuckle. Yes, this a recurring problem in your life, but one you learn to deal with. You trust Jimin wholeheartedly, and are assured that he would never do anything with anyone else.

But, on rare occasion, the tables are turned, and it’s Jimin who has to experience the ire of watching his beloved being approached by someone and flirted with greasily. And what many didn’t know, was that Jimin was a possessive and jealous being.

When the sharply dressed man approached the table the BTS crew were sitting at with the band, you thought nothing of it. He was speaking to someone else, it did not matter to you. But when he made his way towards the empty seat next to yours – a seat only a few spaces away from where Jimin sat eyeing him – you should have ignored his smarmy smile, should have already been repulsed enough to back away from his greasy head and clammy hands that shook yours, but for the sake of keeping face on behalf of BigHit Entertainment, you returned the smile and engaged in conversation.

Big mistake.

The already overbearing presence of the man escalated into uncomfortable comments about your attire to brushing thick fingers over your shoulders, all the while attempting to ease his way into your pants with what he thought were great pick-up lines. You were highly annoyed at his behaviour, but couldn’t do much for you might ‘cause a scene ’, and so you endured it – even if the thought of slamming your head against the dinner table and promptly knocking yourself out to avoid this conversation crossed your mind more than once.

Your torture was put to an end when the man whose name you didn’t bother to remember was interrupted by a tap on his shoulder, and you both looked up to see Jimin standing behind him with a sickeningly sweet smile plastered on his face. He asked the man if he could steal you away for a few moments, he “needed help with his outfit”, apparently, and laughed when the man said jokingly “don’t take her for too long, she’s quite the girl!”. And with that, Jimin whisked you away and saved you from a night of torture, at least for a little bit.

Well, you thought you were saved, until you were dragged into a closet and had a pair of lips pressed against your lips, which brought you to your current predicament of Jimin undressing you feverishly in the cramped space as you desperately bucked your hips against Jimin’s.

“It was disgusting,” he breathed, a light groan escaping his lips as you managed to grind against his erection oh so perfectly. “I had to watch as he was all over you. I hate it sometimes, having to hide everything,” he sucked and nipped at your neck, and you let out a whine, a whine that was quickly hushed by his lips. Your tongue moved with his, and after a moment he separated for air, his panting breaths hitting your face. “No, no, baby. You can’t make any sound or they’ll find us.”

You bit your lip to keep from moaning aloud as his hand that was not holding your wrists captive travelled down your body to your underwear, smirking when he already felt a wet patch formed on the fabric. His fingers traced your slit through the material of your panties and your knees turned to jelly, your hips moving in the direction of his hand for more, more, more.

“Jimin, please,” you moaned, head rolling back to hit the wall behind you as you stared at him behind heavy lids. He brought his lips down upon yours once more, pressing roughly to yours in a way that had your head spinning. You squeaked into his mouth when you felt his thumb press firmly against your clit, moving back and forth and shooting pleasure through every inch of your body. Jimin’s plush lips left yours once more, and he levelled you with a heavy stare, eyes black with lust and greed.

“You’re mine,” he stated, continuing to torture you with the slow movement of his thumb on your clit, his lips brushing your lips as he kept his stare on you, making sure to look deeply in your eyes. “I love you, and only you,” he said, and those simple words which held so much weight caused your heart to dissolve with happiness, the earnestness in his voice making it seem much more real. His behaviour made sense to you – you were always in his shoes, watching as others tried to claim what was not theirs. But not once did you ever think Jimin would leave you. Jimin wouldn’t think so either, but it’s amusing to see his jealousy shine through his usually cheery disposition.

“I’m yours, I only love you,” you returned, and there was a beat of silence before Jimin was kissing you hard again, teeth clashing with yours as his movements became more frantic, his hand releasing your wrists and moving to his belt to undo it hurriedly. Your free hands flew to his hair and tugged, provoking Jimin to groan into your mouth so nicely as he tugged his pants down his thighs in a rush. Freeing his cock from the confines of his boxers, he pumped it a few times, pulling back to look at you as he licked his lips.

“Do you want this?” he asked, and you nearly got whiplash from how hard you nodded your head. It was all the consent Jimin needed to reach down and push your panties to the side, lining the head of his member to your entrance and pushing in. You covered your hand with your mouth, nervous someone might hear your possible scream of pleasure as he filled you up so perfectly. Staying still for a few seconds, you began to move your own hips forward, prompting him to start moving on his own. He plunged in and out of you at a fast pace, the combination of the wall and his warm, toned body making you dizzy in a strange mix of pleasure, your teeth biting down on his shoulder through his shirt. Jimin hissed at the pain and thrusted faster into you, picking you up by your back legs and lifting you up, wrapping your legs around his waist.

The new position allowed him to hit that perfect spot inside of you and also brush his abdomen against your bud, and this sent you closer to your end at a fast rate. Jimin sensed this when you started to clench uncontrollably around him, and in return he fucked you even harder. One particular thrust sent you spiralling into an abyss of pleasure, your mouth falling open in a silent scream as Jimin continued his thrusting to reach his own end. Your body twitched in ecstasy, and you watched as Jimin, with brows furrowed, attempted to hit his own high, and he must have reached it, for he pulled out quickly, leaving you achingly empty and rubbed his cock before coming, blowing his seed all over yours and his stomach as he sighed in content.

It was quiet in the closet other than the rapid heaving of your chests as you tried to regain your breath, but it was interrupted by your laughter. Jimin looked up at you bemusedly as you giggled stupidly into your hand, laughing harder when you caught his eye. “What?” he asked confusedly, and you laughed some more before you could answer him properly.

“Were you really jealous of that icky man?” you asked, and snorted when Jimin blushed a bright red, scratching the back of his neck as he avoided your stare.

“I didn’t like the way he was invading your space. He made you uncomfortable, and I didn’t want that for you,” he explained quietly, and you gave a fond smile before grabbing his beautiful chubby cheeks and kissing him sweetly. He melted into the kiss, smiling when you released him and staring at you, face alight in love.

“There’s no need to be jealous of him. Or anyone else, for that matter,” you explained, booping his nose and smirking when he grimaced in embarrassment. “I love you, Jimin. There’s no one else I’d rather have than you.”

Jimin beamed goofily, moving to give you another kiss before you stopped him. He frowned at you, a question lingering on the tip of his lips before you pointedly stared down at your stomach, his mess all over your body. Jimin blushed even harder, his mouth forming an ‘O’ shape as realisation struck him.

“Help me get cleaned up, this was your fault because you were a jealous baby,” you teased, and Jimin shot you a playful glare, pecking your lips one last time before he began searching the closet for a cloth.

You both may have your jealous moments, it’s hard not to.

But you know that there’s no separating either of you, not for anything in the world.

[ktlsyrtis]

Shipping Meme: 11, 20, 26, 31

11. Talk about your favorite first kiss.Oh, you mean this?

This kiss destroys my entire soul.  They both know they may never see each other again and have literally no fucks left to give.  The way Bill ignores everyone else in the room (including his own children) and only has eyes for Laura.  The utter lack of hesitance and the passion of it.  Plus with their gorgeous fucking theme song??  I’ll literally never be over it in my whole life.

Honorary mention to the first Berena kiss which is also glorious and has me deeply compromised.

20. Talk about a ship you feel alone in shipping.Ah yes, my beloved crack ship - Abbey Bartlet and CJ Cregg from The West Wing.  As far as I can tell the fandom (if you can call it that) consists of 5 people and a shoelace, lol.  They’re so wrong and so impossible for so many reasons, but I just can’t quit them.

26. Have you noticed a pattern in your shipping? Is there a romantic dynamic you’re more drawn to?Absolutely not.  I’m not immediately drawn to sassy, strong-willed brunettes/redheads and the equally strong-willed partners who they think they “shouldn’t” be with for some external reason (military hierarchy, social convention, etc.) and instead spend their time pining over each other.Nope.  Not me.  *shifty eyes*

31. Talk about one of your favorite headcanons for a ship you love.My personal favorite Berena headcanon is that Bernie is always borrowing/stealing Serena’s clothes.  Grabbing a blouse off the floor when she sneaks down to make coffee in the morning.  Snagging a pair of plush, baggy sweatpants on a lazy Saturday.  She loves wrapping herself up in the luxurious fabrics and the scent of Serena.  Serena pretends to hate it, of course, but secretly thinks it’s adorable and has a hard time keeping her hands to herself when Bernie’s walking around the house in her things.(If you want to see this headcanon perfectly realized, read i see who you are with the lights out by the fabulous @belligerently)

[ask me ship questions!]

[simplyimagines]

Birthday Treat-Jughead Jones x Reader

Summary: The reader bakes Jughead a birthday cake and shenanigans ensue. Pairing: Jughead Jones x Reader Fandom: Riverdale Word Count:782 Warnings: A few swears and a wee bit smutty. Y/N= your name L/N= your last name Y/H/C= your hair colour Y/C/E= your colour eyes

Masterlist ——————————————— “Y/N L/N, I hate to break it to you but there is no way that someone of your height can reach the top shelf.” Jughead says teasingly a small smile forming on his face.

“Don’t underestimate me,” she retorts with a disarmingly friendly smile.

The young boy takes a small step whilst his hands adopt a mock surrender position. His eyes watch Y/N’s very movement as she flexes her legs before crouching down and leaping towards the top shelf only to miss it by a few centimetres.

“You’re taking this very seriously,” he remarks.

“Of course I am!!” She exclaims indignantly.

Y/N turned around in a huff and began to move the large heavy dining room chair towards the shelf.

“Sweetheart, you do realise that I can reach the shelf.”

The teenage girl ignored her boyfriend and continued to drag the chair across the tiles and towards the kitchen shelves.

“I don’t understand why this is so important to you anyway,” he continues.

In an instant Y/N swivels to face him, hands on her hips as a look of disbelief fills her face. She cranes her neck to look up at her boyfriend and in turn exemplifies the height difference even more.

“It’s your birthday,” she emphasises.

A loud snort is let out by the birthday boy in question as he rolls his eyes.

“I hate my birthday but I won’t turn down a cake,” he exclaims before grudgingly grabbing Y/N’s needed ingredients off of the top shelf.

“Thank you!"She squeals.

Jughead leans back onto the marble kitchen bench top as he watches his girlfriend prepare the chocolate cake batter.

Her tanned arms stir the mixture together and her nimble fingers pour in the last ingredient, with the concoction complete Jughead leans over to dip his finger into the bowl so he can taste the brew.

"Mhm, tastes great already” he moans.

The Y/C/E girl sends him a glare for dipping his dirty fingers into her precious masterpiece as she pours it into the cake tin. With the cake now in the oven Y/N sets the timer and takes a step back as she brushes her dirty hands on her apron.

The harsh clang of the oven door motivates Jughead to grab his girlfriend from behind and tickle her sides.

Raucous laughter fills the room as Y/N desperately tries to evade Jughead’s ministrations and which ultimately ends up with pair landing on the living room couch in an attempt to escape the others tickling hands.

The couple lay down on the plush sofa with Y/N laying under Jughead’s body, she begins to play with his belt buckle and success in taking it off and throwing it over the couch.

With Jughead’s hands placed on both of Y/N’s hips, holding her down, he leans down towards her rose coloured lips and places a tender kiss on them.

Y/N embraces the sudden gesture and wraps her arms around his body effectively pulling him closer to her body as she deepens the kiss.

Jughead’s lips begin to slowly make their way from Y/N’s mouth down to her neck as he leaves dark purple hickeys as evidence of his ministrations.

His large hands become tangled in Y/H/C hair as he runs his fingers through it pulling her head closer towards the crook of his neck.

Y/N let’s out a low moan as his lips connect with the sensitive part of her collarbone, her hips arching forward into his.

“Fuck,” Jughead moans deeply as Y/N’s hand traces the hem of his pants and ventures closer and closer towards his jeans zipper.

Suddenly the harsh ding of the oven bell goes of and instantaneously the pair spring apart from each other with guilt etched upon their faces.

Slowly put steadily the two make their way towards the oven, hand in hand, and retrieve Jughead’s beloved chocolate cake.

Y/N places the cake tin on the bench and sticks a sharp knife into it to see if it’s cooked. When the knife sinks in perfectly and no batter clings to the knife she moves it closer to the window so it will cool quicker.

Taking her oven mitts off Y/N turns around to find her boyfriend shirtless and biting his bottom lip.

“Now that we don’t have anymore interruptions, how about we take this upstairs?” He inquires with a smirk on his face.

Y/N raises an eyebrow before making her way towards her bedroom with her boyfriend close behind. As the pair fall back upon the bed Y/N moves to straddle Jughead and leans down to his face.

“Having a good time Birthday Boy?”

He let’s out a laugh before answering.

“I believe that it’s about to get even better.”

——————————————— Authors Note: Sickly Sweet Part 2 will be up shortly as well as another Riverdale Imagine.

[satsuisquad]

I want all of the unusual questions for Raizou :3c

Yesssss my yandere baby. 💖Does your muse like to sleep under many layers of blankets or only a few?- Catch Raizou in a fucking blanket burrito. Every blanket he can find goes on that bed. Even in summer, he'll have ac blasting and nine blankets on the bed.Does your muse like to accessorize?- Please. He paints his nails, that counts. His favourite accessories are whatever he can steal from his favourite trolls. Or uh, just Fivale.Does your muse collect/hoard things?- ahahaha yes. He takes things from his obsessions of course. God only knows what little mementos he has of Fivale's now. When he worked as a piercer he literally fucking kept the needle he used to give his former stalking victim a piercing.Does your muse like to have company over?- Generally not, unless it's someone HE invited. His beloved might pay less attention to him if it's one of his guests. :(Is your muse the oversharing type?- A little, but only with minor things. Like he's not going to just openly share that he thinks about breaking his rail's legs so he'll need to be taken care of, but oh yeah he'll be like "Haha I jerked off like nine times tonight".Does your muse prefer soft, plush textures or smooth, glossy textures?- Smooth and glossy. He's always rubbing his hands on things that are smooth ~Is your muse drawn to things that sparkle?- Oh hell yeah he is. He'll just sit there and space out staring at glittery things.Is your muse a daydreamer?- Ahahahaha yes. To the extreme. He's usually dreaming about his darling ~ Mostly nice happy dreams but sometimes killing people who get too close to Fivale and making him love him uwuDoes your muse like to read the news?- Not terribly interested! Raizou doesn't really care much for the goings-on in the world, all he's concerned with is himself and his Fivale.Is your muse a gossiper?- Nope! Again, he's not real interested in things that don't relate to his rail.What does your muse do to occupy their time when bored?- He really tries to keep himself busy because when he's bored his mind tends to wander to bad thoughts. He paints his nails, watches rom-coms, takes selfies for instagram. Plays dress-up with Fivale's clothes. :/Does your muse like to explore dangerous places?- No thanks!Has your muse done something stupid and not regret it?- Allllllll the time. He doesn't experience regret for like, anything he does. Does your muse enjoy visiting churches they don't belong to?- Nope! He's not religious or interested in religion period.Is your muse considered a wanderer?- Not in the sense that he doesn't have a set home or anything, but he definitely will wander the city. He likes to take long walks with no destination.Would your muse consider themselves a lone wolf or a social butterfly?- Oh, he definitely thinks he's a social butterfly.Does your muse forgive others easily?- If it's Fivale, of course! But others? He definitely holds grudges.What fandoms would your muse belong to?- The Fivale Fandom!! But probably Sanrio. He loves them cute lil shits.Does your muse enjoy praise?- God yes, he cannot get enough. Please. Tell him he's good.Do they like "so bad it's good" movies?- Raizou almost certainly likes some movies that are considered to be bad, but not for the enjoyment of watching terrible films. Does your muse like carnivals/amusement parks/festivals?- Sure! He doesn't really care for thrill rides, but gentle things like carousels and ferris wheels are great!Could your muse survive on a deserted island by themselves?- NO. ABSOLUTELY NOT.