#Oh Val she is so cute!

[gagakareem10]

Ima going to kidnapp her XD

adding cassie drake I made weeks ago

maybe I should open some 4€ commissions on ko-fi based on this template

[swiggity-swexual-i-am-asexual]

As per usual, it’s DP crossover with (probably) DC, although you could probably adjust it for other fandoms

ANYWAYS

A little kid and his mother are trick or treating in another city, perhaps at some kind of event rather than knocking on doors, and the kid is dressed as Phantom. It’s very adorable, with his little ghost-shaped bucket and clearly homemade and already stained costume—listen, white only works if you can just fly over street grime or phase it out of your clothes—and his slightly I’ll fitting wig. The kid is SO happy to be out and about dressed as his favorite, and maybe even showed it off to Phantom back in Amity Park before his family left.

The hero, insert whoever you wish here, is probably in civvies and just enjoying the event. The kid, meanwhile, is so glad when people ask who he is so he can explain, and so- the hero gets to hear ALL ABOUT the local town hero who is probably pretty small time despite the kid’s clearly exaggerated stories. The hero certainly never heard of him, but the kid’s mom confirms that Phantom really was the town hero, despite some mixed reviews of the poor guy.

“Did you manage to show him your costume?” the hero asks.

“Yeah! We went down to the cemetery to leave flowers and I got to show him my costume.”

Wait. Cemetery? Maybe it was part of theme, because Phantom had to be named that for a reason, but… it sounded like…

The kid ignores the suddenly VERY still hero and instead turns to his mom. “Momma, do you think we should bring him candy? He doesn’t get to trick or treat like we do, and I can work super hard to get him a bunch!”

The kid’s mom just smiles. “We could, but maybe we should bring him something homemade. I bet he’d like something more filling, teen boys like him have a hollow leg.”

The kid wrinkles his nose. “Like Vernie with the pizza bagels?”

“Like your cousin, yes. We can make some cinnamon rolls and take them to his memorial, maybe bring some of the apples from your grandpa’s garden…”

The hero is pretty much forgotten as the two-part family wanders off, not quite intentionally forgetting the hero is there so much as the hero somewhat accidentally ended the conversation when they just froze and didn’t ask anything further.

Not that the hero didn’t want to. But they’d learn something very serious.

One—there was a small town hero they’d never heard of. Two—that hero was apparently a teen. Third—most pressingly, the teen hero was both beloved enough to have kids dressing up as him and dead enough to have a grave.

This… might require some phone calls.

[livelovecaliforniadreams]

[coconut530]

Best Scene in the comic, hands down ❤️💙

[blue-jisungs]

she was an angel, he did video games

author's note. while i struggle with my reqs here u have a small thingy that was inspired by me going into a rabbit hole of watching old vids of my fav childhood youtubers (rezi to taki crush still like OH MAAAA GAAAD ++ jego stare filmiki = top tier)

also val @kyrjnie tis is for u,, bc it may or may not have also been inspired by the gyu edit u sent me 😁😁😁😁😁😁

warnings. c u r s i n g. so much cursing. also mention of shooting n dying (they’re playing gta lol)

summary. you can’t sleep because of your yelling gamer bf,, that’s literally it (gamer bf!gyu)

word count. 618

“fucking hell! shit, shit, shit–!”

beomgyu let out an inhuman screech, leaning on his chair. the sound of his friend’s laughter echoed in his headphones as he held his stomach that started to hurt from laughter too.

“please, please taehyun!” beomgyu whined, leaning forward and running after his friend’s character in game.

“gyu?”

he yelled when he got shot again, this time by yeonjun.

“you fucker! no, no, no don’t run away!” he didn’t seem to hear your quiet voice.

you never complained about beomgyu’s passion being playing video games. everyone needed their de-brainer that would make them relax and enjoy life. you were glad he got to spend time with his friends and have fun but–

“haaa, eat shit!”

“gyu!”

he squealed upon feeling your hand on his arm.

“oh my f–” he turned around instantly, heart rate picking up. but when his eyes met yours, his brows knitted “y/n?”

ignoring the way he went afk and his friends used that fact to kill him (again), he patted his thigh. taking in the sight of you in his oversized t-shirt, messy hair and two different socks on your feet he couldn’t help but grin that you’re his and–

“could you be a little more quiet?” you asked gently, voice barely above a whisper. his ebony eyes softened, flickering quietly between the screen and you.

“oh”

a small chuckle left your lips and it was quickly followed by a yawn.

“yeah, i couldn’t fall asleep” you mumbled and leaned closer to place a kiss on his forehead.

“no, wait. actually, i’m done playing. they’re assholes either way” he breathed out. a sudden wave of guilt washed over him.

“what? it’s you who sucks!” soobin whined offended “also say hi to y/n”

“no” he grunted and with a devilish smirk used the sniping to point at the friend. then, he turned around at looked at you with a joyful yet mischievous spark in his eye. beomgyu just mouthed: “one sec!”

“y/n’s such an angel, bahi always screams at me” kai mumbled.

“same, my mom just smacks me in the head out of a sudden. i almost shat myself when she did that when i was playing the forest” yeonjun sighed “y/n is the best–”

“what the hell was that?!” soobin yelled out when his screen flickered black and then he saw the text: wasted. beomgyu gunned you down “you fu–!”

beomgyu left the voice chat and game giggling, proud of himself. then, he turned around and smiled upon seeing you wait for him. your eyes were closing slowly, fighting the sleepiness.

“i know, sorry. if i cuddle you, will you forgive me?” your boyfriend pouted, sneaking his arms around your waist. you nodded lazily and felt his lips brush against the corner of your mouth. letting out a small sigh, you tugged his hoodie.

“let’s just go, my stinky little gamer of a boyfriend…” you mumbled, fighting a smirk.

“yah!”

“also i wasn’t mad at you to begin with. just… the bed was cold, or whatever” you said, dragging him to the bedroom. beomgyu’s heart skipped a beat – something that he’d think he’d get used to while dating you. but such cute gestures still made him flustered.

“you’re really an angel, huh?” beomgyu mumbled into your hair once you were in bed. you snuggled closer to him, embracing the warmth.

“huh?” you asked drowsily, sleep creeping up on you way faster than when you were in bed alone, without him.

“sleep well, angel” he just hummed, hands pulling you even closer. fingers drawing shapes on your (his) t-shirt absentmindedly, beomgyu realized that he liked spending time with you way more than on his silly games.

masterlist <3

taglist. @primoppang ,, @mirxzii ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @slytherinshua ,, @kazmura ,, @nicholasluvbot ,, @ameliesaysshoo ,, @weird-bookworm ,, @dazzlingligth ,, @ocean-minho

[lina-lovebug]

I'd Fight The Devil

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Background: (Y/N) Morningstar with her partner, Alastor, has decided to put some of the Overlords in their place.

Warning: Alastor being Alastor, mentions of pregnancy but no one's pregnant, and Alastor might have a breeding kink

_ _ _

"(Y/N)! What a surpri-!"

"I believe that's Princess (Y/N) Morningstar, Heir to the throne of Hell, and Duchess of Chaos - to you," Alastor loved doing this. He adored how (Y/N) had decided to start using her true power, and to bring respect back to her name.

The family name, to be exact.

Valentino chuckled nervously as (Y/N) scoped out the place, her horns ever presenting and tail flicking with annoyance.

"What a pleasure to be hosting you, Princess. What would be the reason for this visit?" Valentino asked, offering her a drink.

"I'm fine, thank you," She dismissed it, already smelling the poison inside the cocktail.

"I'm here to discuss Angel Dust, and your contract with him."

"If he's too much trouble for the hotel, I'll happily-"

"You're the one causing the trouble," Alastor cut him off.

Valentino sputtered, "me?!"

"You can feign innocence all you wish, Val, but I've heard that you've called my sister a bimbo, along with many other colorful names," (Y/N) slowly stood up, leaning over his desk as the lights started to go out - one by one.

"Charlie is nice. She's always been the kinder of us Morningstars, but apparently this makes you think that you can go and soil our name. My father could have strung every sinner on a hook for eternity, torturing you all second by second as your screams sung into our great halls," no one had been unfortunate enough to see the form of (Y/N) Morningstar, and Val was one of them.

Her height expanded to nine feet tall, her pretty black nails forming into claws and her eyes ablaze with scarlet serpent pupils.

And wings - oh great black wings that could make even Adam rethink his attack.

When he was still alive, of course.

"And you sully his gift by mocking us."

"Look, Vox did it first! Okay?! He said you'd never-!" Val tripped on a tentacle that came from her beloved Alastor, who dropped a TV by his feet.

But not just any TV.

"Oh God," Val gasped, "Vox. . .?"

"I took care of him earlier," Alastor grinned, still reminiscent on his screams.

"I couldn't have my dear (Y/N) sully her hands with his filth. But whatever the Princess wants, she gets."

Oh to see her come into her power was as chilling as death itself.

"You're so romantic, Alastor," (Y/N) smiled.

That's when Valentino spotted it. On the left hand of (Y/N) Morningstar was a ruby wedding ring, the band pure gold.

Alastor finally did it.

He climbed up the latter, but not through power.

Well yes, through power, but he certified that it would always be his.

By marrying Lucifers daughter.

"We're matching, isn't it adorable?" Alastor showed off his own wedding band, ruby's encrusted inside of it.

"Now, where were we?" She grinned, and as an engagement gift, the screams of Vox and Valentino were broadcasted throughout all of Hell.

And they say chivalry is dead.

_ ☆ _

"They're fucking crazy."

"They're made for each other."

On that, Angel Dust and Husker could agree.

The lovely couple had become the center of Hells attention after their engagement was announced, and even though Alastor thought it would be hilarious for Lucifer to find out through the papers, she told him first.

And he cried.

"Oh my baby is all grown up!" Lucifer sobbed loudly, clinging onto her legs, "look at you! You-you used to be this small!" Lucifer grabbed a duck, "and you were so tiny and so cute!"

"Am I invited?" Lucifer squeaked, staring up into her eyes.

"Yes, dad," She smiled, bringing him up to his feet, "but we want to wait a bit before we plan anything."

"You know she used to bite my finger?!" Lucifer grabbed the baby pictures of little (Y/N), "look at how small she was! Oh, and this one is my favorite!"

Alastor truly didn't mind how touchy Lucifer had become with him, but thankfully, Lucifer also knew when to stop.

"Wait, is that why you're getting married?! Did you impregnate my daughter?!" Lucifer gasped, shoving his hand on her stomach.

"Dad! Dad, no! I'm not pregnant!" She quickly cleared up.

"Unfortunately," Alastor muttered to himself. Oh to see her belly swell with his children - his own spawn, it made his cock twitch at the thought.

He was fond of children but his own? Oh he'd spoil his little prince or princess with all the blood sacrifices the world had to offer.

"Yeah but you know what marriage entails, kiddo!" He pointed at them both with finger guns, "first comes love, then comes marriage, then comes a baby-oh my GOD I'll be a grandpa!"

He started crying again.

She sighed, "at least we know our hypothetical child will be taken care of."

Alastor nodded, "I could not have picked a better father-in-law."

At this point, Lucifer was ugly crying.

Alastor looked at his beloved with a soft gaze as she tried calming her father down. To be honest, Alastor never thought he would ever find solace in Hell. He anticipated every day being a fight for his life, always looking over his shoulder and always striving for more power. And as cheesy as it sounded, he saw (Y/N) as his shining light. She brought out his sad heart, and for the first time in his life, he wished his mother was with him.

To see just what a wonderful woman he managed to catch.

[after-witch]

Hazbin Hotel yandere Alastor imagine

note: discussions of sexual abuse, physical abuse, afab reader, misogny

Oh, to be in Hell and working for Valentino, who uses and abuses you, who goes from hot to cold depending on his moods, whims, and whatever might be pissing him off or propping him up at the moment.

It's not the living you wanted to be making. It's not the life--or afterlife--that you envisioned for yourself. But you owe him so much money (he fed you, and clothed you, and kept a roof over your ungrateful head, didn't he?) and you don't know how else you could pay him back.

But one day you happen to catch someone whispering about this new Hotel where you might be able to get better? Where life might be able to get better? Where you might get, and the word refuses to even catch on your tongue despite it dancing in your ears, redeemed?

You want that. All of it. Even it means risking getting the (after) life beaten out of you.

And on a rare free morning you sneak out and make your way to the front door and a tiny (cute, but, horrifying) little maid answers but before she can get a word in edgewise, a blonde woman--the literal princess of Hell, you realize--jumps into the doorway and grabs your hand to shake it vigorously and welcome you in with the biggest smile you've ever seen that isn't (for once) tinged with something awful behind it.

You practically trip inside as she excitedly pulls you into the foyer where a gaggle of people are sitting on a velvet couch and oh, shit, you know one of them.

Angel. You knew he was here--Val would not stop bitching about it--but it's different hearing about him being involved in this little project and actually seeing him out of the studio.

When Angel sees you, he freezes, his eyebrows shoot practically to the sky. And you're about to beg him not to tell Val, please-please-please, Angel might get away with being here but you don't have that kind of sway, when someone slides in front of you.

Red hair, pointy teeth, a fantastically red coat.

Alastor, of course.

You're not supposed to talk to him. Val and Vox made it clear to everyone in the studio. The Radio Demon is an "old timey fuck" who needs to fuck off and any one caught fraternizing with him might as well be fucking dead (or they'd wish they were) so stay away.

And his reputation wasn't any better with what you'd heard on the street.

But... he doesn't seem all that bad. And you were already taking a Big Fucking Risk by coming here, it's not like Val would go easier on you if you pleaded that sure, you snuck out, sure you came here when you knew you shouldn't, but you clamped your mouth shut and didn't talk to Alastor, you swear!

"Greetings," he says, and you want to smile a little. Because he really does sound like a radio, the kind your mom used to listen to when you were young, even though they were going out of style. Sometimes you missed that, sitting around the table while the radio played, tinny voices and music playing.

"Hi," you manage, voice quiet. "I mean, greetings," you say, stupidly, really.

But he doesn't call you a moron (like Val might) or ignore you (like Vox might)--instead he dips and picks up your wrist gently and he actually kisses your hand, a perfunctory gentlemanly peck of a greeting, instead of licking a slimy trail up your arm like Val is prone to do.

Can you help the little "oh!" that escapes your lips? No. Can you help the heated flush that creeps up your chest? No.

And if he, to everyone's surprise, winds up taking you under his wing--can you complain? No.

He doesn't tell you, like Val did, that you'll pay him back every red cent when he conjures up a closet full of clothes to replace your scant wardrobe. The clothes are modest and lovely and again, your mom springs to mind. The stuff she'd pull out of her closet and hold to her chest sometimes, because they no longer fit.

You wish you'd worn those clothes, when you got old enough to fit into them. But they were moth eaten and out of style and you'd look at her aghast when she asked if you wanted them when you were moving out.

So you didn't. But now... well, they don't fit so bad, do they? You even look nice in them. Alastor says "you're a vision of loveliness, dear," when you wear one of the outfits he's picked out. And you're not sure if it's a pun on his name or a genuine compliment, but you thank him all the same.

Charlie agrees to set up a room for you and Alastor helps with that, too. Although his help mostly involved changing out the standard linens for something nicer, stocking your closet and dresser with old fashioned clothes, and removing the TV.

You almost protested, but he reminded you that "your old friend Vox just might pop in and see you" and ah, it all made sense.

Alastor was looking out for you. Like he did with the clothes. Like he does with the way he helps you navigate the vague, ever-changing lessons that Charlie tries to teach.

Everyone here is nice, all things considered, for Hell.

It's not perfect.

Sometimes you would like to wear something more flashy and stylish, but what outfits Charlie manages to procure never seem to make it into your wardrobe.

Angel always looks like he's going to vomit when Val calls because at this point you are considered "missing" and Val does not like it when his "whores try to ghost him," as you'd once heard him screeching on Angel's phone.

Angel always denies that you're here, denies that he's seen you, and for once, you're glad he can act well when it really matters.

And if Alastor gets a little too clingy... if he gets a little too controlling? If sometimes he reminds you of Val, pushing and pulling you in the directions he wants, you just remind yourself that he's not as bad.

He doesn't ever, ever hit you. He doesn't yell at you or even raise his voice, really!

He corrects, that's all.

Steers you to the right outfits, reminds you how to act like a lady (something he never seems to do with anyone else, to your embarrassment); gently grabs your wrist and brings you along with him around the Hotel, into the shadows of the streets where you won't be seen when he thinks you need some good old fashioned exercised or fresh air. (If the air in hell could be considered "fresh" is another thing entirely.)

So yes.

He might be a little controlling. You can admit that. Even if he has your best interest in mind.

But every time that little thought creeps into your head, you just remind yourself. He's not as bad as Val.

And when you're in Hell, "he's not as bad" might as well mean that he's good.

[fujosh1dreamer]

Guess I'll talk about episode 4... Which I absolutely loved. It was very painful and at some points hard to watch but that's the point I believe.

Now that the situation with Angel has been thrown into our faces we can't really turn a blind eye. I loved everyone in this episode but especially charlie.

I wanted her to throw hands I was like yes pls. Just one really good hit, just to make Val start thinking twice. But I guess its a little too soon for that.

Surprisingly the episode did change my opinion of Vox. At first I was like oh silly TV man, thinking of his as just someone for Alastor to mess with. But after this look-

I'm not liking him too much. Guess I'll have to wait and see, but Vox looking at Angel with such contempt pissed me off. If someone has another interpretation of his expression I'd love to hear it.

Love Angel and Charlie connecting in the end. You cant even be mad at Charlie because she came from a place of love. She didn't fully understand the situation she just knew Angel didn't want to be there.

They made up in the end.

She apologized and they made up. Angel understood and forgave Charlie which warmed my heart. They're so cute!!!

And of course we have the song between Angel and Husk which slapped.

Love them.

What an episode!!!

[helluvapoison]

Okay okay I think I got it!!

Imagine the Vees entering like a side room or something and finding cannibal! Reader (literally) tearing into some random person that was caught snooping around by them (reader). How would they react do you think?

No pressure to write this if you don't want too. Love your writing, your recent Zestial one was so cute!!!

-Cannibal Anon :))

Nice To Eat You

[i]

The Vees x Cannibal!Reader

warning: suggestive and dark themes ahead, blood and gore, violence, security shenanigans and, hello, cannibalism

Admittedly, you’d gotten rather careless with your beloved around. Who can blame you when they make you feel on top of the world? With you at their side they felt a bit untouchable too. More so than usual. However someone had broken into their dressing room and wrote something foul on the mirror. You saw red. This wouldn’t happen again.

Cannibals were rather good at sniffing out something rotten.

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

˚✧₊⁎ Velvette ⁎⁺˳✧༚

• Witnessing crocs make a comeback in Hell was the worst sight she’s seen to date

• Blood doesn’t particularly bother her, though she hates the mess of it all

• Despite the jokes shared between the two of you, it was sort of unspoken that you would keep your dietary habits away from your girlfriend

• She couldn’t help the gasp when she looked up from her phone, seeing blood spilling from your mouth

• You stiffened, matching her wide eyed expression

• Fuck, you never wanted her to see you like this

• Whipping around, you spat out the flesh and began furiously wiping your face with your sleeve

• “Stop!” Velvette shouts, daring to rush over and grab your shoulder

• Suppressing a flinch, you freeze at her command but refuse to face her

• “Who’s this then?”

• Your reply is bitter like the taste on your tongue, “The rat.”

• “Good.” You feel her grip on your shoulder tighten, “Make Joanne clean up when you're done. Oh, and dollface? Brush your teeth before you come find me, yeah?”

˚✧₊⁎ Vox ⁎⁺˳✧༚

• He thought he meant it when he said he wouldn’t be grossed out by your food selection

• Though the meal was the same, seeing your entire front drenched in blood, red dripping down your chin was entirely different from date nights with fancy ambience and classy decor

• Shaking his head from side to side, he dials the shock out of his system and forces on a passive expression

• You two have already come so far! He can’t have his date mate tiptoeing around him now

• “Do I need a new assistant?” Vox asks, feigning a disinterested tone

• Your own surprise dilutes slowly, you were so sure Vox was bluffing when he said he could handle this

• He’s rather proud of himself that he was convincing enough to fool you

• “No. S’the bastard who wrote on your mirror.”

• “Excellent! Feed what’s left to Vark, let’s clean you up and go celebrate! Wash that shitty sinner taste out of your mouth with some wine, hm?”

˚✧₊⁎ Valentino ⁎⁺˳✧༚

• Unbothered by blood, he likes making you dish out his punishments while he sits back and watches

• “Dinner and a show,” He’ll joke, “Like killing two birds with one stone!”

• As sadistic as he is, Val doesn’t have the patience to draw out torture

• If he wants results, he’ll get them immediately or kill someone in the process

• The two of you are similar in that regard or you would’ve brought the half eaten body to him when the sinner was still kicking and screaming

• Surprise hits his face when he opens the door and fades just as fast

• “Aw,” Val clicks his tongue, “You couldn’t have waited for me, monstruo? You know how much I like to see you eat.”

• You toss a bloodied grin in his direction, “Got hangry. This was the cynic that said your films were shit.”

• He chuckles darkly, leaning over to cup your face and wipe the corner of your mouth with his thumb, “What do they think now?”

• “Nothin’ much.” You join his amusement with a breathy laugh

• Stretching your neck up to meet him halfway, Val kisses you right on the lips. His tongue briefly taking over your mouth, swiping away the copper taste and replacing it with his own

• “Come. Let’s get you in the bath, monstrou.”

• You quirk a brow at him, “A real one or a cat bath?”

• Laughing, Valentino taps your nose with an extra finger, “Dealer’s choice.”

~

╰(*´︶`*)╯♡ cannibal anon i love you!!! thanks again!!

[jiraen]

My Very Own Cupid | G.W

Summary: Valerie Valentine, known as “Hogwarts’ Cupid” for her matchmaking prowess, finds herself heartbroken upon finding out George Weasley, her crush since 4th year, likes Angelina Johnson. This leads her to abandon her romantic endeavors, only to later discover something unexpected.

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2.5k+

A/N: This is my first ever story on tumblr, I really hope you guys enjoy! 🫰

⊱ ─── ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ ─── ⊰

Valerie Valentine lived for Valentine's Day. It was in her name, after all.

Ever since she was little, Valentine’s Day had been her favorite holiday—the chocolates, the roses, the handwritten love letters. She adored how, just for a day, everything seemed sweeter, softer, filled with endless possibilities. When she arrived at Hogwarts, she quickly made it her mission to bring that magic to the castle.

It started in her second year when her best friend, Hannah Abbott, had fallen hopelessly in love with Roger Davies.

“I can’t tell him,” Hannah had groaned, burying her face in her hands. “I’ll probably trip over my own feet and embarrass myself for life.”

Valerie, ever the romantic, had taken that as a challenge. With a carefully written anonymous love letter, a bit of strategic maneuvering, and the right nudge at the right time, Roger had ended up asking Hannah to Hogsmeade. By Valentine’s Day, they were sitting at the Hufflepuff table, sharing a box of Honeydukes chocolates.

“You’re amazing at this, Val,” Hannah had gushed. “You should be Hogwarts’ Cupid!”

And just like that, Valerie Valentine became a legend.

---

Valerie took on the title of Hogwarts’ Cupid with pride, dedicating herself to helping students find love. Over the years, she orchestrated dozens of successful love stories, each one becoming a fond memory.

One of her most ambitious plans involved a nervous third-year Hufflepuff, Andrew Macmillan, who had a crush on a Ravenclaw named Helena Clearwater. Andrew was a wreck whenever Helena was around, stammering through his words and turning bright red.

“She’s so smart, Val,” he had sighed. “She probably thinks I’m a complete idiot.”

Valerie had an idea.

“Girls love grand gestures,” she told him, handing him a crumpled parchment. “And you know what’s grand? A love song performed by the Hogwarts suits of armor.”

Andrew had stared at her in horror. “You cannot be serious.”

“I am serious.” She smirked. “I also may or may not have bribed the suits of armor to serenade her during lunch.”

Sure enough, the next day, as Helena was walking to the Great Hall, one of the enchanted suits of armor clanked forward, raised its sword like a conductor’s baton, and began to sing.

“O fair Helena, with eyes so bright,

You make my heart take glorious flight!

Oh, would you fancy a date with me?

For Butterbeer and cakes of treacle sweet?”

Andrew looked like he was about to pass out from sheer embarrassment.

But then—Helena laughed. A real, delighted laugh. “This is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever seen,” she said, turning to Andrew. “Did you do this?”

He stammered for a moment before nodding.

She smiled. “It’s cute. I’d love to go to Hogsmeade with you.”

Valerie cheered from the sidelines. Another successful match.

---

By her third year, Valerie had students seeking her out for help. One of them was a shy Gryffindor named Ethan Wood, who had a major crush on Katie Bell.

“She’s so cool,” he groaned. “She’s an amazing Chaser, and she’s funny, and—and she probably doesn’t even know I exist.”

“Well, let’s change that,” Valerie had said.

Knowing Katie loved Chocolate Frogs, Valerie devised a plan. Ethan would send her a Chocolate Frog every morning for a week, each one accompanied by a tiny, anonymous note with a compliment.

The first note: You play Quidditch like a star.

The second: Your laugh is the best sound in the world.

By the time the seventh note arrived, Katie was determined to find out who her secret admirer was. She cornered Valerie at the common room, eyes shining with curiosity.

“You know, don’t you?” she asked.

Valerie grinned. “What would you do if I did?”

“I’d probably want to talk to him.”

So, later that evening, Valerie orchestrated the grand reveal. Ethan, nervous as ever, stood by the fireplace, hands fidgeting at his sides. When Katie walked up to him, Chocolate Frog in hand, she smirked.

“So,” she said, tossing the frog at him playfully. “You’ve been feeding me an unhealthy amount of sugar.”

Ethan stammered. “Uh—uh—sorry?”

Katie laughed. “Don’t be. Want to go to Hogsmeade with me?”

Ethan nearly fainted. Valerie patted herself on the back. Another victory.

---

For three years, Valerie had been Hogwarts’ Cupid. She loved it. She lived for it.

"Hogwarts' Cupid" had always been surrounded by love—not just romantic love, but the kind of warmth that came from friendships, from laughter, from the little things that made life feel magical. And yet, nothing had prepared her for the moment she realized she was in love with George Weasley.

She never meant to. It just happened—the way his laughter echoed through the common room, the way he always had a joke up his sleeve, the way his mischievous grin made her stomach flip.

---

It happened one evening in her fourth year, during the first snowfall of the winter. The Gryffindor common room was cozy, the fire crackling in the hearth, but Valerie had always been drawn to the magic of fresh snow. So when she saw the first flakes drifting past the castle windows, she slipped outside.

She didn’t expect anyone else to be out there, but of course—George Weasley never did the expected.

“Oi, Valentine,” he called from behind her as she stood in the courtyard, snowflakes catching in her hair. “Fancy meeting you out here. What’s a Cupid like you doing standing alone in the cold?”

She turned to find him grinning, his red hair dusted with snow, his cheeks pink from the chill.

“I could ask you the same thing,” she shot back. “Shouldn’t you be inside, plotting your next great prank?”

George put a hand to his chest, feigning offense. “I do have other interests, you know.”

“Oh? Like what?”

“Like this,” he said, before suddenly scooping up a handful of snow and launching it at her.

Valerie shrieked as the snow hit her shoulder. “George!”

“What? Cupid needs to learn how to dodge!” he teased, already gathering more snow.

She didn’t hesitate. She bent down, packed a snowball, and threw it at him with all her might—only for him to duck at the last second. It sailed past him and hit none other than Professor McGonagall’s window.

Both of them froze.

George turned to her, his eyes wide, and then—he grinned. “Run.”

Valerie didn’t need to be told twice. She bolted, George right beside her, the two of them slipping and sliding across the snowy courtyard as laughter bubbled out of them. They only stopped when they reached the covered bridge, breathless and shivering but giddy.

“That was all your fault,” Valerie panted, leaning against the railing.

George smirked. “Oh, definitely yours. I was just an innocent bystander.”

She rolled her eyes, but before she could retort, he reached out, brushing a bit of snow from her hair. It was such a small gesture, but it sent a shiver down her spine that had nothing to do with the cold.

Their eyes met. And for the first time, standing there in the soft glow of moonlight reflecting off the snow, Valerie saw him differently.

Not just as the prankster. Not just as her friend.

But as someone who made her heart race.

Someone she wanted.

The realization hit her so suddenly that she barely managed to breathe.

George tilted his head, a slow, teasing smile forming on his lips. “You alright there, Val?”

She swallowed, forcing herself to laugh. “Y-Yeah. Just cold.”

“Then we’d better get inside before you freeze,” he said, throwing an arm around her shoulders and steering her back toward the castle.

She barely heard him over the sound of her own heartbeat.

Because that was the moment she knew—

She had fallen for George Weasley.

---

By her sixth year, Valentine’s Day at Hogwarts was practically synonymous with Valerie Valentine.

The weeks leading up to the holiday were always the busiest. Students whispered in hallways, love letters passed hands, and Valerie’s name floated through conversations like a spell. As usual, she was in high demand—helping a lovestruck Ravenclaw compose a heartfelt poem, advising a nervous Hufflepuff on how to casually bump into his crush, and sneaking sweets into the Gryffindor common room for a surprise confession plan.

She should have been thrilled.

And yet, for the first time, Valerie felt tired. Something about it felt off this year. Maybe it was because, despite all the magic she created for others, she had never been on the receiving end of it.

Then, just a few days before Valentine’s Day, George Weasley walked up to her.

“Hey, Val,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck, looking almost shy. “Got a minute?”

Her heart gave a traitorous little flutter—an automatic reaction at this point.

“Of course,” she said, forcing herself to act normal. “Need help with a prank?"

“Not exactly.” He hesitated, then asked, “Do you know if Angelina’s dating anyone?”

The world seemed to tilt.

The words were a Bludger to the stomach, knocking the breath right out of her.

Angelina. Of course.

She was smart, confident, talented—his best friend. They were already close, always sitting together at meals, always joking and laughing in that effortless way that made Valerie’s heart ache.

And why wouldn’t he like her?

Valerie swallowed the lump in her throat and forced herself to smile. “I—I don’t think so. Why?”

“Oh, no reason,” George said with a shrug, a slight smile plastered on his face. “Just wondering.”

That was all the confirmation she needed.

She barely remembered the rest of the conversation. Somehow, she managed to act normal—laughing at all the right moments, nodding along as if her heart wasn’t shattering into pieces. The moment George walked away, she turned on her heel and fled to her dormitory.

She barely noticed the way her hands trembled as she grabbed the stack of love letters from her desk—the ones she had spent years helping craft, the delicate parchment filled with confessions she had helped others deliver.

With a shaking breath, she threw them into the fireplace.

The flames swallowed them up, turning love into ashes.

Hogwarts’ Cupid was officially retired.

---

For the first time in three years, Valerie refused to help anyone with their Valentine’s Day plans.

When a nervous fourth-year approached her in the library with a love letter, she shoved it back at them without a word. When Hannah Abbott asked for advice on which chocolates to get Roger, Valerie snapped, “Does it really matter?”

Hannah folded her arms. “Okay, what is going on with you?”

“Nothing,” Valerie muttered, burying herself deeper into her Potions textbook.

Hannah wasn’t convinced. “You love this holiday. It’s your thing.”

“Not anymore.”

Hannah stared at her, then realization dawned on her face. “This is about him, isn’t it?”

Valerie stiffened. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Hannah sighed. “Val, if you’re upset about something, talk to him. You never just give up.”

But Valerie shook her head. What was the point? George had already made his choice.

So, on Valentine’s Day, while the Great Hall buzzed with excitement, while couples exchanged gifts and friends laughed over ridiculous love notes, Valerie sat in the Gryffindor common room, alone.

She refused to look at the door. She would not let herself wonder if George had asked Angelina out.

Then, just as she was debating whether to go hide in her dormitory for the rest of the night, George plopped down beside her.

“Alright, Valentine,” he said, stretching his arms over the back of the couch. “What’s going on?”

Valerie scowled. “What are you talking about?”

“You’re usually running around playing matchmaker, making sure everyone has a perfect day,” George said, eyeing her closely. “And yet, here you are, sulking like someone just told you Chocolate Frogs were being discontinued.”

She crossed her arms. “Maybe I’m just sick of love stories.”

George blinked, clearly taken aback. “Alright, who are you and what have you done with Valerie Valentine?”

She huffed. “Why do you even care? Shouldn’t you be off with Angelina?”

George frowned. “Angelina?”

Valerie glared at him. “You asked about her.”

George tilted his head. “Yeah…? So?”

“So,” she snapped, “if you’re going to ask her out, just do it already.”

For a moment, George just stared at her. Then, suddenly—

He laughed.

A real, full-bodied laugh.

Valerie gaped. “What’s so funny?!”

George grinned at her like she was the biggest idiot in the world. “Oh, Merlin, you’re thick.”

She scowled. “Excuse me?!”

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Val, I asked about Angelina because Fred fancies her. I was helping him.”

The world came to a screeching halt.

Her mouth opened. Closed. Then opened again. “Wait—you don’t like her?”

George smirked. “Of course not. She’s great, but she’s not the one I wanted to spend Valentine’s Day with.”

Her heart pounded so hard she thought it might burst out of her chest. “Then… who do you want to spend it with?”

George raised an eyebrow. “Who do you think?”

She froze.

Everything—the endless matchmaking, the stolen glances, the little moments between them—it all suddenly clicked into place.

“You,” he said simply.

Her breath hitched.

For the first time in her life, Valerie Valentine was speechless.

George smirked, tilting his head. “Now, if our former Hogwarts’ Cupid is done sulking, can I take her on a proper date?”

Valerie stared at him, her heart pounding, before a slow, hesitant smile tugged at her lips. “I suppose…” She tapped a finger against her chin, pretending to consider it. “I could make an exception.”

George laughed, reaching out to ruffle her hair. “That’s my girl.”

And just like that, Hogwarts’ Cupid finally found herself caught in the love story she never saw coming.

---

[suzukiblu]

WIP excerpt for tabetharasa behind the cut; "but it's weird that it happened twice". (( chrono || non-chrono ))

“Uh,” Superboy says, blinking his way too pretty eyes at him, and then Tucker has another sexuality crisis and also Danny’s mom yanks the door open and beams brightly at them. Tucker hears ghostly screams of undying rage coming from the kitchen, along with Fenton-ly screams of “TAKE THAT, GHOST!” So like, also situation normal, for Fentonworks. 

Except for the superhero he’s currently bear-hugging on the front step, anyway. 

“Oh, hello there, Tucker!” Mrs. Fenton greets brightly, then looks briefly surprised by Superboy’s presence. “Who’s your friend, dear?” 

“Um,” Tucker says, then rips his hands off Superboy and himself back out of the other’s personal space and nearly falls off the stoop in the process. “Hi, Mrs. Fenton! Mrs. Danny’s Mom! Uh! This is–” oh god how did he not think to think of a fake name for Superboy, he thinks desperately, then just panics and goes with the first Street Fighter character that pops into his head–“Cam! Cam Lee! Friend of mine. My friend. Who is mine. We, uh, met on the internet? Cam really likes . . . cosplay. And . . . stuff.” 

Jesus, how was the first character he thought of Cammy? Cammy! The clone of the evil dude, even! The clone who wears a leotard with a thong in literally all her most iconic designs! 

Please, please let Superboy not ask where he got the name idea. Ever. 

Mrs. Fenton’s surprised look immediately melts into one of those weird sappy ones adults get when they’re being insane and thinking grown-ass teenagers are being “cute” or whatever, and she folds her hands together and coos. Tucker has one perfect, crystal-clear moment of oh no in his head before she says, “Oh, that’s so sweet, Tucker! Jack! Say hello to Tucker, he brought his boyfriend!” 

“Boyfriend?!” Superboy sputters the exact same way he said “pretty boy”. Tucker will never know peace again, he is now intimately aware. Also, apparently Danny’s mom is taking his apparent bisexuality better than he is, which is honestly just embarrassing. 

“Oh, I’m sorry, dear, is this a crossplay?” Mrs. Fenton asks with a concerned little frown, then calls back to Mr. Fenton again: “I mean girlfriend, sorry!” 

“Hello, Tucker! Hello, Tucker’s girlfriend!” Mr. Fenton yells cheerfully as Tucker catches a glimpse of him tackling their struggling refrigerator through the kitchen door before they both go rolling out of view with a series of obnoxiously loud crashing sounds. “Nice to meet youuuuu!” 

Tucker absolutely, absolutely should not have picked anything with any semblance whatsoever to a gender-neutral name. Sue him, okay, his best friends are named “Danny” and “Sam”, “Dani” and “Val” are also things, and “Tucker” is in fact only slightly an improvement on any of that. Frick, even “Jazz” isn’t technically that gendered! There’s definitely at least a dude Transformer named that, if nothing else! 

“So nice to meet you, dear,” Mrs. Fenton says, beaming brightly at Superboy. “Oh, aren’t you pretty! Love the hair, you kids are so creative!” 

“I–I–” Superboy stutters, bright red and half-frozen, and Tucker will definitely, definitely never know peace again.

[nightlyrequiem]

hai there requiemmm!!!

mmmm okay request!!!! I finnkkk somethin real cute is val with a femme fatale reader 😓😓😓

like!! okay, imagine,,, the cops knock on your door and you answer, acting like the stereotypical pretty-faced dumbass,,, maaaybbee getting one of the cops' numberss just to make it believable and then you close the door and boom!! val just sitting there like 'really? You overdid it this time' etc (^_^)

It woild be so funny if valerias front was literally just a hot lady and nobody would bat an eye at her bevause pretty privileges!!! 😋

i want this as a oneshot!!! No headcannons this time!! :P

you can change anything you'd like hereee, maybe even add abit of spicye if the situation calls foe ittt... or someethiinnggg.. (〃´▽`)

thank you soso much for your time!!!! buhbye :D

-🃏🌀⭐️

I love femme fatales so much. Like yes give me this super hot woman who seems useless and dumb but then she actually ends up being super smart and dangerous. Pretty privilege is real and if you have it, may as well use it

Also the situation definitely calls for something spicy...

Tags/Warnings: WLW, Sexual Content, Cunnilingus, Lying to Law Enforcement, Men (Only briefly included. Not in the sexual scenes.)

Stunner

You carefully drag a finger along your lip line, smoothing away the smudged lipstick. Your eyes drift down to your bare neck. Looking at the small hickeys littering your soft skin. Courtesy of your girlfriend last night. Speaking of... You look behind you in the mirror at her prone form. One bare thigh sticking out from under the covers, an arm stretched out over your empty spot. She's silent as she sleeps. You lucked out with her. It would've sucked to have been stuck with a snorer.

You adjust the silky pink robe over your body. It has fur trimming along the wrists and edges and it feels like heaven on your body. Another thing courtesy of Valeria. You have her absolutely eating out of the palm of your hand. Someone so violent turned into a doting mess with just a look. A unicorn and the virgin. You take a step towards the bathroom and wince at the soreness between your legs. Maybe that's not an accurate comparison.

You wash, pee, and admire yourself in the mirror for a few minutes. Toying with your hair and the robe. You aren't just a pretty face. You're good with people. Able to slip into whatever personality is best suited for the occasion. Valeria has used you to get what she needs from other people. Deploying you as a honey trap. Being beautiful sets people's nerves to rest and makes them more trusting. Specifically men. It's so easy to distract them or obtain information when all you have to do is bat your lashes and pretend to be interested in what they have to say.

Your doorbell chimes, distracting you from your thoughts. You walk out of the bathroom and into the hallway. You walk right up to the door and peek out through the window. Two uniformed police officers stand patiently outside your home. No doubt here for Valeria. You pull down the neckline of your robe and open up the door.

"Good evening officers, can I help you?" You ask smoothly, Smiling at each of them. Both of their eyes momentarily dip towards your neckline, no doubt catching sight of your pebbled nipples through the thin material.

The older one clears his throat, staying professional.

"Good evening miss, we were wondering if you've seen this woman?" He asks, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a photograph of Valeria when she was in the special forces. It's a picture you haven't seen before. Her face is softer but not devoid of that evil glint and her hair is longer.

"Oh, no I haven't." you murmur, reaching out to gently pluck the photo from his hands. You inspect the picture with great care.

"You sure about that?" He asks sternly.

you look up and blink dumbly. "Of course." You say. "Why do you ask?"

"Because a source tells us she's been seen coming and going from this home."

His source should learn to mind their own business. You laugh breezily. 

"Oh no," You shake your head. "I don't get guests."

"You don't?" The younger pipes up, eyeing you with equal parts interest and disbelief. You level him with a look.

"Nor usually," You explain. "the only guests I see are uniformed." You let him pick apart the double meaning to your words. His brows quirk with increased interest.

"Yeah? You get those often?" The older one shifts in front of the younger one. His voice has lost it's suspicious edge. softening into something more casual, playful even.

You gently scratch above your chest, directing his eyes to your cleavage again.

"Not as often as I'd like," You murmur. "I feel much safer when they're around."

He smiles dumbly. "Well, we should go bother someone else, looks like you're getting ready for bed and we wouldn't want to disturb you any more than we already have."

"Oh don't worry at all!" You say, waving a hand.

The cop grabs a notepad from his shirt pocket and quickly scribbles down a string of numbers. "Here," He says, tearing out the page and handing it to you. he cups your hands in his. "My personal cell in case you're feeling unsafe again."

You hold onto the paper.

"Thank you." 

He nods and turns, ushering his partner to follow. He gives you one last look before following. You wait for them to drive off before closing the door, startling at the sight at Valeria behind it. She redressed herself, sporting her tank top and cargo pants. You notice she missed her bra.

"Sometimes I think you like flirting with the police." She grumbles, stepping forward and grabbing your waist to pull you against her. You drop the paper, letting it flutter to the ground forgotten. "I do." You hum. "Think I might leave you for a cop."

Valeria scoffs and trails her hands lower. "I'll kill you if you even try."

You grin at the threat. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." She leans down and kisses you, tugging at your lower lip with her teeth. "I don't share."

You can feel the robe slipping down from your shoulder, but you don't try to fix it.

"You don't seem to mind sharing me when you send me out to do your dirty work." You whisper into her mouth.

Valeria pushes you up against the wall. "You're my greatest weapon. Can get away with anything." She says, pushing her knee up against your groin. "Especially when you have these on display." She raises a hand and gently cups your breast.

You grab the back of her neck gently, pulling her away from you.

"My greatest weapon is down here..." You murmur, slowly pushing her to her knees. She looks up at you, eyes glinting in the light. You reach down a hand and slowly push aside the robe, exposing your panty-clad lower half.

Valeria caresses your smooth calves. Soft and fragrant from the lotion you use. You carefully push her head closer to you, feeling her breath fan over your cunt. She gets the hint and presses her nose against you. Licking a long stripe along your panties. Valeria licks and sucks at you through the lace. She slowly grabs the edges and pulls down your panties, letting them fall to your ankles. They pool over your painted toes. Valeria wraps her lips around your clit and suckles. You press against the wall and lean your head back with your eyes closed, humming appreciatively.

Her hand caresses over your ass and wet folds. Her fingers shyly dipping into your holes, barely pushing through the rings of muscle before pulling away. She lets go of your clit and slowly works her tongue over your labia, inching closer to your opening. You run your hands through her short hair encouragingly. Tangling your fingers in the strands. Her tongue prods your core, pushing the wet muscle inside of you. She devours you like you're the last thing she'll ever taste. Fingers and tongue working in tandem with the sole purpose of making you cum. Your pleasure her highest priority. 

You grind down on her face, legs beginning to tremble. Valeria holds you steady with a firm grip on your thighs, keeping them spread and you upright. Her tongue flicks out, lapping at your clit and toying with your hole, sending you over the edge. You tighten your grip on her hair as you soundlessly cum on her face.

You come down from your orgasm. Breathing heavily while Valeria gently laps at you, licking away any excess fluids. She pulls away, sitting on her heels. Her mouth and nose glistens with your slick. You slide to the floor and admire the sight. Valeria leans forward and kisses you, making you taste yourself on her lips. You've been the death of many, but maybe Valeria will be the death of you.

[twoidiotwriters1]

With Luffy!? (Monkey D. Luffy x fem! reader)

A/N: I just need more inspiration! send requests! - Val

Words: 1,130

A normal day at the Sunny is about to change when it lands on a new mysterious island. Y/N and Zoro are the first to go to the town to get supplies. 

Before the rest could leave the ship, a little boy runs through the low deck. The kid giggles and runs everywhere until he stops in front of the crew and waves his little hand. 

Nami, Usopp, Robin and Chopper stop and stay still as their eyes follow him. 

“Hi!” He smiles and runs again. 

“A kid?” Chopper asks. 

“How?” Then Usopp. 

“Doesn't he look..?” Nami starts. 

“Like Luffy!” Robin smiles. 

*** 

They start with some questions when they catch him. 

“What’s your name, sweetie?” Nami asks with a smile. 

The boy giggles. “You know my name, Auntie Nami.” 

“Where are your parents?” Usopp says next. 

“I dunno,” he shrugs. 

“Are you sick or hurt?” Chopper asks. 

“No needles!” He screams and runs again. 

Now, he enters the kitchen. A couple of minutes later, Sanji exits the kitchen with the kid in his arms. The boy has a bottle of water. 

“Does anybody know where Joy’s parents are?” He asks the others. 

“Joy?” 

“Yeah, that’s his name.” 

Eventually, the others get together, and they all fall in love with the charming boy. Franky decides to make a highchair and immediately, baby-proof the Sunny. Brook starts to play his violin to him and makes funny songs. 

“I can’t help it, he’s really cute!” Nami squeals hugging Joy and pushes him to be cheek against cheek as he giggles. 

“Pretty Auntie Nami,” Joy points at her. 

“And so smart!” 

“Wait,” Usopp says walking to them. “She’s your auntie?” He points at Nami and Joy nods. “Who is she?” Usopp points to Robin. 

“Auntie Lobin.” 

“Okay so, the mother’s not here and we can’t ask where he came from or his birthday.” 

“Am fou,” Joy says raising four fingers. 

“Oi, Sanji! I’m hungry!” Luffy yells jumping and landing on deck. 

“Dadda!” Joy squirms in Nami’s arms to run to his dad. The kid holds Luffy’s leg and giggles “Hi, dadda!” 

“Uh—hi?” 

“I’ve never thought to live long enough to see Luffy with his son… Even though I’m already dead!” Brook laughs. 

“My what!?” 

The kitchen’s full of laughs from the crew and the little boy as Luffy keeps making silly faces, stretching his face, and playing with his food to make Joy laugh too. Of course, Joy loves his dad’s and crew’s attention. After a while, little Joy boy yawns and scratches his eyes.  

“I sleepy,” he pouts. “Wan’ my Mommy.” 

The crew share a tense look not knowing what to do. 

“Dad,” Luffy looks at him. “Wers Mamma?” 

“Uh—she’s...” 

“We’ve arrived!” You yell from outside. 

Joy turns his head to the door and squirms trying to get out of the highchair. Luffy frowns and helps him. 

“Mamma?” He says leaving the kitchen. The crew follow him. When the kid sees you, he smiles and runs to you raising his little arms. “Mamma!” You frown down at him as he keeps jumping “Up! Up! Pwease!” You let down the shopping bags and carry the strange kid.  

He holds you by the neck, leans to rest his head on your shoulder as he sucks his thumb and closes his tired eyes. 

“Awwww,” the crew sing at the cute scene. 

You look at them confused. 

“We leave you alone and you kidnap a kid?” Zoro asks completely lost. “And...” He leans to see the peaceful kid. “One that looks like Luffy?” 

“It’s a long story,” Robin says. 

“Has anybody else heard Joy say ‘mamma’ to Y/N?” Usopp asks carefully. 

“Joy?” You ask. 

“Hmm?” The boy leans back to look at you.  

“Oh,” You understand it. 

“Night-night?” He asks. 

“Uh—okay” You look at the crew waiting for an answer, but they all shrug. “Fine, I’ll put him to bed,” You walk to your shared room. “Wait, did you call me mamma?” 

*** 

“All right, he’s asleep. Now, explain,” you point at the others. 

“Luffy's son and mine!?” You squeal. “What? How? Why? When?” You look at Luffy and he only smiles. 

When Joy wakes up again, he says he wants to play with his uncles. More specific, with Zozo, Uso, Faky, Saji, Book and Fluffy (Chopper). Luffy pouts when Joy doesn’t mention him, but you take the chance to talk to him. 

“Why aren’t you freaking out? 

“‘Cuz I like him,” he smiles. 

“Luffy, please. You need to think about this. He’s a little boy, our little boy.” 

“Yeah, I know that. And I think it’s awesome,” he points to the low deck, where Joy’s playing tag with his uncles. “I know he looks like me, but he also does the scrunchy nose thing when he smiles, like you do.” 

“What?” 

“Yeah, and he looks like you when he pouts. Oh! He caresses my cheek like you do when we’re alone and I think you two have the same eyes.” 

The truth is that when you joined the crew, you couldn’t help but think about your captain differently. But the time showed you that Luffy doesn’t care or think about having a relationship beyond crew mate with anybody. 

Besides, that was a long time ago. 

That’s why you can’t believe (if Joy’s from the future) that you’ll have a kid with Luffy. But his words did affect you and moved so many things inside you, and, of course, you can’t deny that your kid is the most beautiful boy you’ve ever seen. 

“Luffy?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Do you know how to make a baby?” 

He frowns. “Uh… yeah. Why? 

“Just curious,” You walk away with a blush on your cheeks. 

“Les go night-night again!” Joy says holding Luffy’s hand. 

“Joy, wait. Dad has to sleep in his own room,” You stop him when he guides both of you to your room. 

“Good night, kiddo’,” Luffy says and walks away, but the cry of his son makes him stop in his tracks. 

You quickly carry him in your arms. “What’s wrong?” You ask him. 

“Dadda come night-night with mommy an me!” He yells pointing at Luffy. 

*** 

“Good night, Kiddo” 

“Night-night, Dadda, night-night Mommy.” 

“Sweet dreams, baby,” you kiss his cheek. 

You had to move Nami’s bed and put it next to yours so that all three could fit in. Although Luffy and Joy are fast asleep, for you it takes more time. You watch them as the moonlight shines through the room. 

You smile as Luffy moves and groans in his sleep, facing you and Joy. His arm moves and stretches enough to hug both of you closer to him. It’s quite crazy knowing that you’ll have a kid with Luffy, but you can’t deny that you could get used to it… anytime. 

[weebsinstash]

As much as I strongly dislike when a series kind of "cages" the self insert/OC potential of its audience, it's becoming pretty clear that there's a certain level of pre-determined-ness to Sinners and their appearances, almost to the point it's vaguely implied entire sections of Pentagram City are like, ethnically/visually distinct and that every character we see fits into some sort of category and resembles other people. There's an Overlord who's a giant raptor dinosaur and there are other dinosaur Sinners (and also she's like the club/rave based overlord and even has a business, Klub Kaiju, interesting). Valentino is a moth and there are other moths and different bugs like spiders. In the most recent episode showing flashbacks of Hell in Alastor's past, there was a past female Overlord who had the same multi-toned angular swirling hair as Velvette does. In Vox's studio in episode two, he has members of staff that are visually similar to his own aesthetic. Even up in Heaven, Angel's sister Molly still has her spider aesthetic with a halo and cherub wings

so, i guess, to go where I'm ACTUALLY going with this post.... Moth Reader who winds up catching Valentino's eyes because "oh wow we're both moths, isn't that cute" and it escalates into him seeing you as his property, ESPECIALLY if you also have weird drugging/pheromone powers like him

Like can you imagine it? You smack down into the city while he's like having lunch at a cafe or his limo is parked at a light and you're standing up all confused and helpless and cute, hugging yourself as you look around this loud violent scary new place, and you two wind up making exact eye contact and he can tell you're crying and scared, easy prey. Could you picture Reader's equivalent of his coat being that you're in a little hoodie or jacket or shawl and it just unwraps while you're sitting with him. Idk. You accidentally inhale some of his smoke and just give a cute little sneeze and your antenna and your wings are all just poofing out, you basically just equipped that shit from your inventory. On the fence if Reader would have chest fur but maybe your hair hair is really big and long and silky

Moth Reader having eye spots on their wings that can lull someone into hypnosis, or you have some sort of pheromone that makes people weak to your demands, maybe even horny for you, like some mind controlling queen bee ordering her drones. Val's in the bathroom and some creep grabs you and all of a sudden your antenna twitch and his face gets hit with a little puff of 'dust' and suddenly he's letting go of you, "oh my gosh sweetie I am so sorry, here, take all the money in my wallet, you deserve it, I'm so sorry queen, I'm gonna go jump into traffic, sorry queen, sorry, sorry, im a worm, sorry, sorry"

Valentino having unique reactions to your "pollen" as another moth or at least an addict with a tolerance. He buries his face in your neck so you "poof" him on purpose and he's just hotboxing your scent and getting high and horny while you're struggling and squealing. He forces you to use your powers on him and others so they can feel happy and high. At some point he may even force you to keep producing the powder so he can sell it as a drug or a product and at that point you're BIG INCOME for him, he might as well carry you around like his personal vape pen

Like. Can you even imagine "oh yeah Im super lucky enough that i have these powers to protect myself and potentially manipulate others" and you think you're safe and untouchable and this man is like using his fucking credit card to shift your powder into lines to snort it like a rail of cocaine. You can turn "normal" Sinners into your helpless pawns but it loses effectiveness the stronger the person is and this man is like HOTBOXING your shit, all but passing out on the couch with you in his arms in pure drug seeking unrestrained bliss. And then he fucks ya cause I mean, it's YOUR fault he's all hot and bothered now isn't it?

Just Reader not even knowing how much danger they're in because you just got here and have no idea who this guy is and you're just spinning around looking at your new appearance and flapping your little wings and maybe you can even float or fly a little bit, all happy, big big smiles, being all "oh my gosh this is so cool, I feel so cute ^^" and you don't even realize you're practically modeling yourself on a runway to one very, VERY interested customer...

[dearest-painter]

🚬🎀 anon is back from the dead (Valentino daughter reader) but I was wondering if you could write something for husk warming up to the reader, maybe Angel was dead set on keeping her but Husk didn’t. Then he had to watch her alone one night and afterwards he was just like “yeah no she’s staying, Valentino can fuck all the way off, he doesn’t deserve her” while he’s just holding her while she’s asleep.

I thought that would be cute, but have a good day

Sorry for the super long wait! Everything in my life just been rocky!

TW/CW: toxic behavior, unhealthy behavior, honestly nothing too bad buys it’s in a Yandere AU so yeah, VALENTINO, he gets his own warning, this is purely for entertainment purposes

Angel Dust loved few things, he knew that, everyone did, yet he loved the most besides Fat Nuggets was Y/N, his awful boss’s daughter. So Angel decided to do something, take her with him. He knew Valentino’s schedule and took Y/N with him when he knew his boss would be too busy to pay attention. He laughed as he ran to the hotel.

“Angel you’re ba- who is that!?” Charlie asked as her eyes widen at seeing the little girl in Angel’s arms. Angel smiled widely and held her out like a baby kitten. “This, toots, is my new daughter, Y/N…sorta stole her from Val.” Angel stated, the last part made Husk whip his head around to look at Angel in disbelief.

“Oh FUCK NO! No way! I ain’t raising a annoying nose picking crotch goblin!” Husk firmly stated as he shook his head. “Well then you ain’t gotta! I will!” Angel retorted as he huffed and booped Y/N’s nose, gaining a giggle from her. Everyone agreed that she’s live in Angel’s room for safety and once she became a teen, she’d get her own room on the same floor as him.

It took a few weeks or months, no one was really paying attention but overtime they saw Husk change. Originally being short, cold, and indifferent to the little girl he changed to more talkative, as kind as he can be, and actually care for her. Angel would always smile widely at seeing it, so as a joke Alastor wanted to test something.

“Well Husk! We all remember your distaste for the little lass here! Why not give he-“ before he could finish everyone saw Husk grab Y/N into a tight hug and cover her with his wings while hissing at Alastor. “FUCK NO! She’s staying! Annoying or not!” Husk stated as he glared at Alastor. Alastor kept smiling as he enjoyed seeing the reaction.

Angel squealed in delight and rushed over to hug the two, causing Husk to grumble yet it was clear he was pretty happy.

[the-californicationist]

For send an author a gif

Alternatively/additionally

😘

oh duck. im so sorry. this is... unhinged. ���

MDNI

Keychain

“C’mon, babes. These blokes were cute. Val knows them. Said they’re nice… enough,” your best friend, Poppy, made a teasing face, sticking out her tongue at you before getting serious, “How long’s it been?”

You sighed, picking at your chipped nail polish, 

“...six…”

“Six weeks!?” Poppy panicked in earnest.

“...months.”

“Six months. Are you —” she snatched your hand and dragged you to your feet, “Enough. Dry spell over.”

You found yourself arm in arm with Poppy, dodging raindrops and puddles on your way to her coworker’s flat, screaming and laughing so hard your lungs hurt, soaking in the cold downpour. There was a big party happening at her place that night. A key party. It was something she had picked up at uni. Everyone’s keys went into a bowl, and whomever’s keys you ended up with was who you went home with. 

You followed Poppy into the alley, hiding under the awning as she buzzed up. 

A crackled voice came through the grimey box,

“Yeah?”

“It’s Pops! Let us in, you slag!”

Giddy screaming came through on the speaker and you heard the door click. Up you went, trodding four flights of stairs, panting and dripping at the top. The front door was wide open and music thumped out of it. A few guests were out in the stairwell, propping the door open to a small balcony, smoking and drinking, crushing their bodies together and swaying to the beat. 

“Pops!” A pretty ginger girl with a teensy tiny triangle top under a fishnet shirt came bounding through the foyer, “Come in! Come in. Name’s Val, nice to meet ya. Give us your keys, Pops. And you, too, new girl. Look at that top!”

She pretended to grab at your breasts which, you had to admit, did look pretty killer tonight. You’d worn a black leather bra top with silver glitter all over it, and you felt like some sort of rock star. A black leather miniskirt completed the ensemble. You couldn’t stomach the heels, so you opted for your combat boots. Val looked like she was about to spill out of that tiny top, but she made it look good.

You handed over your keys, watching your little glittery Bulbasaur keychain bounce around her finger as she twirled them in circles. 

“Which bowl for you?”

“Huh?” You didn’t understand.

She pointed to each one, presenting them to you like she was hosting a game show,

“This one for if you like blokes, this one for if you like birds,” she gave Poppy a wink and tossed her keys in that bowl,  “...and this one for if you don’t care what’s going on downstairs!”

“Oh, um,” you pointed to the last one, “Don’t care either way, really.”

“Perf! Okay, let’s see what you’re drinkin’!”

You followed them through the packed flat and into the kitchen. Liquor and beer bottles littered the countertop, and the only cups left in the cabinet were coffee mugs. You watched Val pull two down and pour some sort of blue drink into each one. She handed them to you with a bright smile, 

“Better go mingle! Never know who might grab your key.”

You smiled, tight-lipped, wondering if you had just made a huge mistake or if you really would be going home with someone nice tonight. 

Either way, you mingled, chatting with a few people, trying to hear them over the noise of the music. But, even in your rock star get-up, you weren’t really the partier that Poppy was. You peeked around the apartment for an escape. The bathroom was locked and, from the sound of it, a couple wasn’t patient enough to wait on their keys to get their night started. 

You checked the next door and found the cloakroom. It was a bedroom slash office, and it was blissfully dark and quiet. You shut the door behind you, sighing with relief and then —

“Havin’ fun, yet?”

A deep, rumbling voice found you in the dark, and you froze. He was sitting in the window sill, smoking a cigar, and he put his hands up in mock-surrender,

“It’s alright, love. Just needed a bit of peace.”

“Yeah,” you said, regaining your composure and straightening your skirt nervously, “No, it’s okay. Sorry, I’ll just… go.”

“Can’t leave without your key,” he laughed, holding up your house key. Your sparkling Bulbasaur glinted in the low light from the window. 

“You… how did you?” You stepped toward him, retrieving your key from his outstretched palm. 

Now that you were closer to him, you get a better look at the man with your key. He was tall. Tall enough to dwarf you even while he was seated in the window. He had a full beard, shaved down the chin like a ship captain, or a pirate, and his eyes were the palest blue you’d ever seen. It was almost supernatural to look into them and be met with his icy stare. 

He was sharp, too. You could tell that he had a quick wit, and an even more capable body. Huge, sculpted muscles pressed through his white tee shirt, tightening the thighs of his jeans. A veritable giant of a man. But when he smiled, just as he was doing now, you felt safe despite his stature. He seemed like he meant you no harm. 

“How do you have my keys?” You asked again, watching as the white smoke billowed and curled out of his full lips, carried away by the night wind. 

“Saw you come in. Couldn’t have some other arsehole picking you first, could I?”

“First?” You stood closer to him still, staring up at him as he rose from his seat, towering over you with his body, darkening the room in shadow.

“Aye,” his hand went to your chin, raising it up as if to have a better look at you, “Bit greedy, me.”

You thought he might kiss you, but just before he leaned close enough for your lips to touch, he took another drag from his cigar, letting you smell the tobacco and licorice scent on his breath, the lingering notes of whiskey not far behind. 

“And you thought you could be greedy with me, is that right?” You whispered, unsure of why you were speaking so low, but he matched your register in his reply, purring his words at you and making your belly twist in on itself,

“I let myself hope so…” You watched as something that seemed like doubt flashed through his gaze, and a primal piece of you hated that.

“Good thing you snagged them, then,” you reassured him, letting your hands roam across his belly, circling around him and testing the waters, “Be a shame if someone else got to me first. Some… arsehole.”

“Careful, love,” he warned you, “You’re too pretty to be teasin’ a poor bloke in that fuckin’ outfit. Does things to us.”

You dragged your hand up his thigh, knowing exactly what things he was mentioning but playing dumb anyway,

“Oh? What… things?”

Quick as a snake’s strike, he snatched your wrist in his free hand and held you steady. It surprised you, and you froze from the shock of his strong grip. Then, your whole body lit up as he slowly moved your palm over to his zipper, behind which was pressed the hardest, fattest cock you’d ever felt in your life. 

“These things.”

He flicked the end of the cigar clean out of the window and grabbed you around the jaw, bringing his face down to yours to kiss you. He was smoke and fire and whiskey and sugar and something musky that could only come from a human’s tongue. His beard scruffled your skin, tickling your lip as you kissed him back. 

He pulled away, his eyes hooded from the pleasure of your kiss, and said,

“I’m John, and I am at your fuckin’ service, pretty girl.”

“Take your shirt off, John,” you nibbled on the bottom of his lip and smiled as sweetly as you could manage.

“Yes, ma’am,” he smiled back, wolfishly, and peeled his shirt off revealing his immense chest, covered in dense, soft hair. 

You kissed him again, letting your hands touch him wherever you wanted to. You felt his soft nipples harden under your touch, and you stroked the smooth skin of his ribs, tattooed with some sort of skull and shield. In the midst of your lust-filled tour of his torso, he tossed you on the bed, piled high with coats and scarves, shoving them out of the way in a knotted, tangled mess. 

He kissed his way down your body, stopping when he came to the swell of your breasts, chuckling and looking up at you. 

You were already breathing heavy, a little annoyed he’d paused in the middle of something good. 

“What?” You asked.

“You can’t be serious with these. Look,” he twisted a thick finger under the top of your bra’s cup and shoved it down, revealing your nipple as it popped free from its enclosure.

He fixed his mouth over it and began to suck. Then, he popped his lips off of you before sucking hard again, making you whine from the sensation. 

“Fuckin’ perfect. Saw you and these gorgeous tits…” 

Suck. Lick. Suck. 

“...across the whole bloody room…”

Suck. Suck. Suuuuuuuck. 

“...and I had to taste you…”

Suck. Bite. Kiss.

“…had to fuckin’ know.”

You let your fingers peel through his hair, messing up his gel, scratching his scalp, listening to him moan as he groped your breasts, hungry like a rabid dog. 

“And,” you breathed deeply, trying to compose yourself, aiming to tease him further, “Are they what you hoped for?”

He grinned, dropping one hand to unbuckle his belt. Then, you felt his steely length loll and roll against the inside of your thigh. You couldn’t help but gasp, feeling his fleshy head drool across your skin. John looked down at you then, and returned your question with one of his own,

“What do you think, love?”

With an audacity you were not expecting, he slapped his rod against you, making little popping noises on your skin, opening some sort of feral door deep within your psyche. 

“And then —” John put both of his hands underneath your hips and flipped you over, making you lay on your belly, surprising you with his incredible strength, “I saw this fuckin’ arse. Mmm.”

He raked your skirt up your legs and grabbed two huge handfuls of your cheeks, squeezing them so tightly it almost hurt. Then, he looped his thick forearm under your hips and lifted you up, making you present yourself to him lewdly. 

“Tha’s it, pretty girl. Lemme see you…” He sighed raggedly, “Oh, fuck. Look at these.”

You felt his finger slide between the gusset of your panties and your aching hole, rubbing you up and down, pretending to admire your lace thong.

“These knickers, and this perfect fuckin’ hole.”

All you could do was hang there, draped over his forearm while he bent his head to plant his mouth against your center, doing a lazy job of moving your underwear out of the way, preferring instead to just eat you through them. You felt the warm prod of his tongue as he pushed it against the fabric, writhing it skillfully to get to your insides, licking in long strokes to work your taste into his mouth. 

Your bra was still askew, letting your nipples rub against someone’s faux fur coat, and when you heard the clinking of metal sounds, you peeked over your shoulder to see John fisting his cock while he devoured you. His efforts were messy, and he drooled along your skin, not caring how much of you smeared all over his face. 

“Mmf—”

You let out a whimper, unable to hold back, feeling the pressure of your pleasure mount as he focused on your rim, laving it in deep, circular strokes, bringing you right up to the brink and guiding you back down, torturing you right on the edge of bliss. 

“Yeah? ‘S tha’ good, love?” He teased, releasing his cock to peel the thong off of you and shove his tongue deep into your hole. 

“Ungh! Fuck, fuck, fuh—”

Your whole body tensed, leaving nothing to the imagination about the orgasm he had just wrenched from you. 

“Good girl, that’s it. That’s it.” John talked you through it, speaking with his mouth full, licking you endlessly. 

Then, he flipped you back over, prowling over your body like a beast, grinding his hips into you, asking wordlessly for permission. He kissed you again, letting you taste what he had done and you sighed into his mouth, eager for more. 

You were soft for him, but you still wanted to push him. So, while he was looking down at you, pondering whether or not you’d let him go all the way, you stuck your tongue out, licking him from the bottom of his chin, over his plush lips, and up the tip of his nose.

He smiled and sat back, lazily playing with your breasts, trying to make damn sure you knew what you wanted.

“You want more, love? We can stop when you’ve had enough of me.”

You didn’t answer him. Instead you let your knees fall open, pushing your skirt up over your belly, revealing yourself fully to him. Then, you reached between your legs, past your aching hole and found the silky body of his cock. He shivered at your touch, and his hips rolled involuntarily as you began to stroke him, moving your hand back and forth, rocking your hips to add to the effect. 

“Got any protection, John?”

He dug his hands into his pocket frantically and pulled out a condom. Breaking the corner with his teeth, you watched him roll the thin layer over his dick, still eager and willing to serve you. Even though he was in the position of power, the expression on his face made you feel like you held the flog. 

“Fuck me,” he lamented, sitting back on his heels and gently playing at your soft, pliant hole reverently, “You’re the most beautiful fuckin’ thing I’ve ever seen — ungh… or felt.”

The moment his fingers touched the inside of your body, his expression changed. It was as if a new part of his mind had woken up and taken over. He was fully in your thrall. You were sure that if you had asked him to leap out of the window, he might comply. 

“C’mon,” you smiled, pulling him closer to you, kissing him softly and then as deeply as you could, breaking away to whisper, “Let me feel you.”  

He reached between your bodies and you felt the wet lick of the lubed condom tip as it teased your hole. Then, the dense, hot pressure of his cockhead. 

“Oh! You’re big,” you breathed. 

John stopped,

“You alright, love?”

You nodded, canting your hips, searching for more of his girth to drag into your waiting core. 

“Tell me,” John commanded, rocking forward a bit more, testing the waters.

“Yes, I need — god, please — I need more. Please.”

“Shh, shh. Here,” he pressed forward again, stretching you out, making your eyes widen from the new sensation, “Here I am. Here…”

He was kissing your neck and breasts, leaving little red marks behind from his strong suckling, licking and nipping at your flesh. You could barely feel it. All your body could concentrate on was the seemingly unending supply of hot, heavy dick he had at his disposal. He just kept moving forward, inch after inch. You thought, at one point, there could be none left, only to have him press just that much deeper. 

By the time his base grinded down against your pubic bone, you had tears in your eyes, and you imagined that you should be able to feel him in your throat. 

You sighed together, and he regained his balance, planting his arms beside you, elbows on each side of your face, covering you protectively. 

“...so damn big. Holy fuck,” you gasped, whispering to him. 

He nuzzled your cheek, a little sweet for how insanely lurid his sex had been, 

“You ready, love?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. 

He began the long journey back out, and then his thrusting began in earnest. He was a slow fuck, but his girth made every pass a challenge. And he always made sure to bottom out. You could tell that was when he felt the most pleasure. So, you chased him with it. His cock would reach its peak in you, making your skin burn and your eyes roll back in your head, and just as he tried to escape, you would twist your hips to follow him down, making it feel as if you were locked together, unable to pull away from your warm muscles. 

A few of those thrusts and he was breathing hard, fucking you harder, picking up his pace. Then, you opened yourself up for him, spreading your legs to allow his big body easier access to yours.

“Oh, fuckin’ hell. That’s good. You are so fuckin’ good. So good,” he praised you mindlessly, just saying words that floated through his mind. You knew it wouldn’t be much longer until he would go past the point of no return. So, you ran your hands over his body again, exploring him like you had been when you found him, swirling your fingers over his ribs and plucking softly at his nipples, kissing his neck, not caring if you left a hickey. 

He was grunting and calling for you with every thrust now, his head buried in the crook of your neck, ready to spill himself for you. 

Each strong thrust of his cock was shaking your bones, making your body want to come, twisting your muscles inside of you as a warning of what you were about to release. 

His eyes lit up, finding yours, 

“You gonna come for me, love?”

“Yeah,” you keened, pressing your forehead to his cheekbone, begging him for aid when there was nothing that could save you from being tossed into the deep end. 

“Come for me. Fuck! There! Right there, hngh —”

You saw sparks at the edge of your vision, and your whole body arched against him, reeling with wave after wave of glittering joy. His face was twisted in a snarl, and he stopped breathing, coming with you in your shared ecstasy, his cock pulsing within you through his orgasm. 

Then, he gasped, a smile painted on his face, half in soporific joy and half in disbelief. 

“Fuck…” he said, gently untangling himself from you, letting his fat dick slide out of your wet, well-used hole.

You’d never felt so empty in your whole life, and you cried out from the loss. He heard you, wrapping you up in his arms and keeping you beside him, letting you both catch your breath. 

After a while, long enough for the bass-heavy song to change, he slid out of bed and put himself back together. Just when you thought he would be on his merry way, he took your hand in his and kissed you with more affection than you ever expected. He told you,

“C’mon, love. Grab your keys. I don’t do one-night stands.”

“Oh?” You smiled, pressing your keychain back into his open palm, “You want more?”

“Told you I was greedy.”