#that cat is fat as hell but I love him

[thesillyhampter]

Crochet bandana ft the cat I saw the other day

Cough cough depop.app.link/3crcUmyhwDb

[starsofang]

It was hard to keep up with Johnny when he wanted to take you any time, anywhere. The shower, the couch, the kitchen counter — hell, even one time in Price’s office. Something about dominance or whatever the hell that means.

You asked for one night off from his foolish antics, one night. You should’ve known Johnny would’ve convinced you otherwise, what with those pitiful eyes of his and his silly, little please, hen, just once and I won’t ask again, cross my heart.

Where the two of you were meant to meet up with his force for a sophisticated dinner, Johnny turned it into his breeding ground, located right in the back of the car. In a dingy parking lot, nonetheless.

It felt useless to complain when you were seated on his face, though.

Laid along the backseat of the car with your thighs caging his head, his hands dimpling into the fat of them to keep you still. Breathy moans being pulled out of you every time he swiped his tongue over your clit just right, or when he’d dip lower to the rings of warmth that ached to have his cock inside instead.

“Look at ye, givin’ in so easily,” he murmured against your pussy, the sensation of his lips causing you to twitch. “Can’t even resist it, can ye, love?”

You sucked in a sharp breath at the filth pouring out of him, squeezing your thighs around his head in warning. It only made him groan in satisfaction, toying with your sensitive nub with the narrow tip of his tongue as if savoring a piece of candy.

“I asked— fuck… I asked for one night, Johnny,” you attempted to say, but it came out more whiny than intended.

You could feel him grin against you, and when you tilted your chin down to look at him, you meet a heated gaze so sultry, so devilish, it nearly made you burst then and there.

“S’nothin’ wrong with bein’ fashionably late,” he grunted, pulling away briefly to get the words out. Don’t you dare think he’d stop, though. He simply replaced his tongue with his fingers, arm wrapped around your thigh to reach.

Johnny’s grin grew when your hips stuttered and began to rock, chasing the feeling of stimulation his fingers switching between your clit and stuffing themselves inside of you.

The sight of it had him cooing, eyes dropping down from your face and to your pretty pussy that glistened in the dim light of the car with your own slick.

“Johnny,” you gasped. Your hand slid down to his hair, locking your fingers into the dark strands. “We were late last time.”

Johnny’s eyes flickered to you once again. He took in the way you were coming undone. Forehead glossed over with sweat from the growing heat of the car, your tits bouncing lightly from the desperate grinding of your hips to his fingers, pupils blown out.

Johnny would be a fool to not want to have you anywhere he can. When you looked like a fucked out little angel, basking so sinfully in the greed of your pleasure?

That dinner with his force could wait centuries, for all he cared.

“Yeah?” he mocked. If you weren’t already looking at him, you knew you’d be able to hear the smile in his voice. “Then how come yer still fuckin’ yerself on my fingers, pretty girl?”

You couldn’t help but whine in frustration, eyes squeezing shut. Johnny took that opportunity to press his fingers deeper, toying with your gummy walls. Your mind short circuited and you cried out, thighs trembling around his head.

“Yeeeah, cat got yer tongue. Ain’t tha’ right?” Johnny snickered, his free hand soothing over your other thigh, kneading at the flesh.

The car was growing increasingly hot, sweat beading both of your bodies. Every rock of your hips sent the car jolting with you and Johnny’s head inches away from colliding with the door. If anyone were to drive through the empty parking lot, they’d have quite an unholy sight.

“You’re so fucking— shit, so fucking annoying,” you whined.

A sharp smack to your thigh had you letting out a mix between a yelp and a moan. The sting of it had you forcing your eyes open to look down at him to see him glaring in warning.

“Tha’ right?” Johnny hummed. He promptly took his fingers out of you, resting them on your thigh instead.

Immediately, you protested with a frown, wiggling your ass where it rested on his chest. “Johnny,” you complained. “Not fair. You have to finish what you started.”

“Oh, I intend to,” he assured. “Still care about bein’ late?”

You pouted, glowering down at him. He was teasing you, and you were hopelessly falling for it, just as you’d done every other time he got you soaked and needy in all places unthinkable. Really, the car was probably the most modest pick for the night.

“Say it,” he pushed, that cocky grin returning. “Say it and I’ll let ye cum all over my cock.”

You huffed in annoyance, narrowing your eyes down at him. It was a fight between morality, being on time to Price’s dinner request, and selfish greed, wanting to be stuffed so full of Johnny’s cock that you forgot your name.

“Fuck the dinner,” you cursed, choosing the second option. You were already scooting down where you sat so you could plop yourself right on top of his waist.

Johnny grinned bashfully, hands instantly sliding to sit on your waist. “Atta girl,” he praised.

They knew. How could they not, when your makeup was smudged, hair clearly flattened and combed out with your fingers, and your dress a bit crooked from where it sat on your body? Not to mention the boyish glow that Johnny emitted like he was the damn sun.

“Give us a heads up next time,” Price grumbled, clearing his throat. “We can wait.”

The glare you threw at Johnny was deadly, but he only grinned back knowingly.

You could demand for just one night over and over, but you and him both knew you’d end up a moaning mess, crying his name all over again.

[vivwritesfics]

Grandparents

Jimmy is a frisky little fuck, gets the neighbour cat pregnant. But hey, that's an excuse for the neighbour cats owner to introduce her to the pretty man with the mesmerising blue eyes who also can't wait to become a cat grand parent

1.7K

Beaver had been acting incredibly strange. When her owner acquired her (literally rescued the little cat from a bin - she had been sitting in the apartment dumpster literally chewing a bit of wood, how she got her name), she had never been one to beg for food. 

In the three years she'd owned Beaver, she'd always filled up her bowl in the morning, and then Beaver would sporadically eat from it. She'd never finish the bowl before noon and then yowl for more. 

And Beaver was definitely getting fat. 

Her owner was incredibly worried.

She scheduled an appointment with the vets and then spent maybe two hours trying to coax Beaver into her cat carrier. But the cat was a wild child. If she didn't want to do something, she wasn't going to do it. 

The cat carrier idea was abandoned. "I kinda hate you," her owner muttered with little conviction as she scooped Beaver up into a blanket and left the apartment. 

It was a little awkward, carrying a cat through Monaco like it was a baby. But Beaver was pretty happy to lay in her arms, happier than she would have been in the cat carrier. 

When, at last, they got to the vets, they were the only beings in the waiting room. Thank God, the last thing she needed was a dog freaking Beaver out, or Beaver chasing somebody's pet rodent across the room. 

She couldn't stop her knee from bouncing as they waited to be called. Her eyes couldnt stop drifting across the room, to that ugly, magnified picture of a tick. When they were called (which didn't take too long, maybe everybody else's pets were thriving that day), she carried adjusted her grip on Beaver and carried her into the waiting room. 

Pregnant. Her mangy little street cat who she loved more than anything was pregnant. "Beaver, you hoe," she mumbled as they walked out of the vets office. But then she looked at Beavers swollen belly. She had kittens in there.

Who the hell was the father? Beaver hadn't left her apartment (by choice), so who had gotten her pregnant?

She didn't mean to gasp as loudly as she did. In the hall of the apartment complex, she stopped walking to look at Beaver, her eyes wide. "It's the neighbours cat, isn't it?" She asked, but Beaver didn't confirm or deny. 

But it madde sense, didn't it? The neighbours cat had a habit of breaking into her balcony to check Beaver out. It wouldn't be a surprise if he and Beaver got busy while she was at work. 

"Well," she said to Beaver as she unlocked the apartment door, "at least you've got taste." 

Yeah, the neighbours cat was pretty beautiful. A Bengal, if she knew her cat breeds (which, she barely did). And his owner wasn't bad to look at either. 

The owner that she should probably inform of what was going on. 

She placed Beaver down on the sofa, and she climbed out of the blanket. "Okay, Bea," she said, holding out her hand (so that Beaver could push her head against it). "I'm gonna go and tell your baby daddy's dad what's going on. You stay here and... try not to let any more boy cats in." 

Beaver ignored her and made her way to the bedroom. 

Standing up straight, she brushed the loose cat hairs from her jacket. She grabbed her keys from the side and made her way out of the apartment, to the one just above her own. 

As she waited outside of her cats baby daddy's owners apartment, she could hear an incredible amount of commotion from inside. Well, I say commotion, but it was one single voice, sometimes shouting. She raised her knuckles to the door and knocked. 

The shouting stopped. Their was a pause, so long that she thought he wouldn't answer, before he pulled open the door. 

Eyes so pretty she got lost in them, and quite literally forgot what she was going to say. She'd never properly met her neighbour before, just seen him when walking through the building. Her mind blanked as she continued to stare into those pretty blue eyes.

"Can I help you?" Her neighbour prompted, and she shook herself out of whatever trance he had her under. Witchcraft, I tell you. 

"Uh, yeah. Sorry to bother you but I live in the apartment beneath you with my cat, Beaver, and I think your cat might have gotten mine pregnant."

His face dropped, and then a smile split across it. "Really?" He asked, and she nodded. "Jimmy is going to be a dad?”

"If Jimmy is the pretty little Bengal that Beaver is obsessed with, then yeah, Jimmy is gonna be a dad," she answered, shifting her weight from foot to foot.

Suddenly he was reaching into his apartment and grabbing a set of keys. "Can I come meet the momma?" He asked, his voice so excited. How could she say no to that?

On the short journey form his apartment to her own, they introduced themselves. Max was Jimmy's dad, and he was a car mechanic (okay this girl clearly didn't know who Max was, and he didn't want to come out with the whole F1 driver thing. So he took a leaf out of Daniels book and called himself a car mechanic).

(She thought it was a little weird, how did a car mechanic afford a luxury apartment in Monaco? Maybe he was a car mechanic to the stars or something).

"Why is she called Beaver?" Asked Max as she pushed her key into the lock on her apartment door.

She didn't judge him for asking, it was an incredibly strange name for a cat. "Well, when I found her she was chewing this bit of wood and she looked sort of like a mangy little beaver. Turns out she was just a mangy little cat," she said and let Max in.

They might have been in the same building, but her apartment was much smaller than his own. A lot more full, too. Where Max had little else beside his set up in his living room, she had so much stuff. A fluffy colourful rug, a sofa big enough for a whole group of people, a cabinet full of DVDs.

"The little miss is probably in my bedroom," she muttered as she kicked off her shoes. "I'll go and get her."

Max kicked off his own shoes. He took a moment to look around properly, careful not to invade her privacy.

She emerged just a few moments later from a little way down the hall, a little black and white cat in her arms. "This is Beaver," she said, holding the purring kitten towards him.

"Hi Beaver," said Max as he took her from her hands. "I'm Max, Jimmy's dad. You're gonna make me the happiest cat grandpa out there."

Beaver pushed her head against Max's, still purring. "She likes you," said her owner as she sat on the couch.

"They're gonna have the prettiest babies," Max said as he sat beside her, Beaver happily sitting in his lap. As carefully as he could, Max fished his phone out of his pocket and passed it to her. "Give me your number, just in case you guys need anything."

But it wasn't just in case they needed anything. After Max went back to his apartment, they texted almost constantly. It started off being about the cats, but then it went further (I say further, but it was just them sending each other memes, giggling from behind their phone screens as they laid in their respective beds).

Max invited her out for dinner maybe a week before the kittens were born. It wasn't anything fancy; he was just craving something unhealthy and he wanted some company.

And then the kittens were born. As Beaver hid herself away in her closet, she pressed her phone to her ear. "C'mon Max, pick the fuck up" she whispered as she sat on her bed.

She was panicking, admittedly. But who could blame her? Her cat was about to give birth!

Max finally picked up his phone. "Hey, I'm at the pet store. What sort of bed should we get for momma and babies?" He asked, sounding all too relaxed.

"Shut the fuck up and get your ass over here!" She cried. "The babies are coming!"

Max ran out of the pet store. He'd never moved so quick in his life (not with his own two legs, at least). In ten minutes flat he was outside of her apartment door, knocking insistently.

Max was just as stressed as she was. But, upon seeing the look on her face, Max let the stress drop. "She'll be okay," he said, pulling her close for just a moment. For a moment was all they had; they had to get to Beaver.

He took charge, sitting her on the bed with a glass of water. The two of them waited while Beaver gave birth. There wasn't much more they could do. Once the kittens were born, Max brought in towels and blankets. He kept a nice distance to her while he set up a lovely warm bed for her and the kittens.

"They're beautiful," he said, not daring to pick them up. "Should we bring Jimmy down here to meet them?"

She shook her head. "Not yet. Let momma and babies rest," she said, laying her head on Max's shoulder.

He squeezed her. "We're gonna be the best cat grandparents," he said. When she held up her hand, Max gave her a high five.

"Can the grandpa take the grandma out for dinner? Is that something a new cat grandparent would enjoy?" He asked, looking down at her with her head still on his shoulder.

She hadn't yet taken her eyes away from the kitten. "Real dinner? Or you just want company?"

"Real dinner, date dinner."

"Love it."

[beneathashadytree]

EATEN ALIVE - SYLUS QIN X READER

Warnings : biting, Sylus likes feeling his lover’s weight, neck kisses, BDSM mention, implied scent kink, reader is gender-neutral!

Genre : spicy fluff <3

Word count : 0.9K words

Additional notes : This brainrot is a result of that one homescreen interaction where you give him his palm and he bites you, and that one bond story where he’s sitting on the couch reading at some point. The image drove me a lil crazy😵‍💫 Also this was inspired by the song Eaten Alive by Diana Ross 🙏🏽

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Masterlist

“Another book on firearms?” they asked, leaning over him to get a glance at what he was reading.

Sylus didn’t look up from the page, glasses perched on his nose and legs crossed underneath his silk robe in the picture perfect image of regal serenity. The only acknowledgment he gave them was a hum, before simply saying, “Not this time,” and returning to his quiet laser-focus.

Annoyance flashed behind their eyes at his complete ignoring of their presence in front of him. And to make matters worse (or in this case, simply more irritating), from their position they couldn’t even read a single sentence upside down. “Aren’t you gonna tell me, then?”

At that, a smirk touched his lips, knowing that he got the desired reaction from them. “You do know that curiosity killed the cat, right?” The look in his eyes was every bit as fierce as it was taunting. “You seem hell-bent on using up all your nine lives.”

Bastard. He loved to tease them relentlessly, didn’t he?

Snapping the book shut with one hand, he pushed it aside face-down. He was taking all the possible measures to make sure they wouldn’t be able to read the title, it seemed. Would a kick to his shins procure the answer they wanted?

Before they could think of another tactic, he clasped their hand in his, unceremoniously tugging them down onto his lap. Yelping as he caught them off-guard, they barely managed to balance themself over him, hovering a little as they tried not to crush him—something he must’ve noticed, given the way he arched his eyebrow at them.

“Put your whole weight on me. I like that.” Sylus’ grin was wicked as he said that, but it was all parts tempting, luring them in like it always did. Maybe it was a figment of their imagination, but they could’ve sworn that they saw his eyes gleam brighter as they settled down properly in his lap. “That’s it, sweetie,” he purred, his hands quick to seek purchase in the fat of their hips.

His touch leaving a burning ache in its wake, he gently caressed every inch of skin he could reach. The hem of their top raised, nimble fingers dancing over their back and trailing over paths he’d long-memorized, he looked like he was truly enjoying the way their breath hitched in their throat, and how they squirmed against him.

“You’re too much,” they managed to huff out, trying their best to school their expression to one of indignation. “Weren’t you… just acting like I was distracting you?”

“A welcome distraction, if anything.” His free hand came up to remove his glasses, a mischievous look in his eyes. “If you hadn’t come for me, I would’ve gone looking for you in a bit anyways.” As though swearing his honesty, he pulled them closer and began pressing open-mouthed kisses against their neck, softly sucking at the warm skin. With every nip of his teeth, he earned a hiss of pain-pleasure, and a jolt of their hips bringing them closer to his. “You taste divine,” he groaned into their neck. “Smell so good too.”

“Hey.” It was supposed to sound admonishing, but it came out as a half-moan, half-whisper. “Stop trying to keep me off-track.” But were their words convincing, when they were writhing in his lap just at his kisses like that? “You’re… hah… avoiding me.”

“‘M not.”

Another kiss, this time at the junction of their jaw and neck, earning a small cry of his name, and that snapped them out of whatever daze they’d been trapped in. With a push to his chest, they managed to pry him off and cover his sinful mouth with their hand, though it seemed that it only spurred on the desire brewing in his scarlet eyes.

“Answer my question.” Panting and their head swimming, it was a wonder they were able to say anything coherent at all. “What were you reading and so hell-bent on hiding?”

As Sylus chuckled into their palm, he merely reached out a finger to drag the book in, quickly flipping it back up.

‘Screw the Roses, Send Me Thorns.’

Oh.

Pure delight danced in his eyes as he relished in their expression as realization dawned on them. Taking advantage of that split-second of their shock, he caught their hand in his, and bit into it—lightly, but just enough to sting in that way he knew deep down they liked so much.

Jumping, they were quick to snatch their hand away from his mouth, cheeks burning with warmth. Before they could even think of snapping at him, he’d licked his lips, as though savoring the taste of them that lingered.

It was all too hot, all at once and in all the most dangerous places of their body.

“I didn’t want to scare you off,” he coolly said, leaning back against the back of the leather couch and eying them with a practiced sultry-sweet gaze.

A promise lingered there; a promise of a forbidden fruit dangling right before their eyes and practically begging to be stolen and feasted on. Their hands itched to take him for themself, but would they do that without being devoured first? A chilling thought, and yet… the warmth in their core seemed to anticipate the moment either of them would snap and give in wholly.

Sylus quietly laughed at their heavy silence and glazed over eyes. At that moment they knew, that they’d fully played right into his hands where he’d wanted them. “But… judging from your reaction, I guess my worries were all in vain, hmm?”

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[astaroth1357]

I have long wanted to write a headcanon where high demons have lesser forms, so take a walk with me on this:

Imagine that the brothers are fighting with each other and one of them takes a serious hit, like, somebody's left hook got them right in the jaw and it was brutal. They fall to the ground, stone cold, and... just. Poof into a tiny little critter. Like a verison of their familiar. And they can't retake human form until they've rested and healed their wounds.

I'm doing that.

Lucifer becomes this fat-ass, little peacock. He's like one of those rotund Chocobo from the Final Fantasy universe, you just want to pick him up and squeeze him but he's slightly too heavy for that. His feathers are black, save for the tail which have black, red, blue, and green markings. If something makes him "Poof!" then he'll hide away in the Castle because he refuses to let his brothers ever see him in that state. MC can visit him, though, and he'll coo and get all fluffy whenever they pet his tummy.

Mammon turns into a three-eyed raven, but not fat like Luci. He basically becomes a bigger verison of one of his familiars, he's about the size of an eagle. For being the second strongest he gets "Poof!-ed" rather often because he gets caught up in so many fights. Most of the time, he's just a bystander then some stray shot hits him and suddenly he's squawking everybody's ear off! Hilariously, he's arguably smarter in this form so when he's stuck as a bird, his grades actually improve (if anyone can read his actual chicken scratch penmanship).

Levi becomes a snake. Duh. He has similar markings along his back to the colorful scales on his neck in his demon form. He isn't even the length of your average scarf, so MC can drape him behind their neck easily and he doesn't get in the way. He's absolutely MISERABLE like this, though, because he has no hands to play games with. He can get extra clingy to people if he's feeling cold, but MC has to invite him to share their body heat because he's too shy to signal what he wants.

As much as Satan would love to be a cat, he becomes a little unicorn (Sorry, I didn't make the lore). He's about the size of one of those miniature horses, but don't be fooled. He will snap your kneecaps and he's at perfect height to rear-kick his brothers right in the crotch. His coat is black but his tail, mane, and the underside of his horn are all his signature green. If he every gets "Poof!-ed!" he's big mad, so he'll spend the entire time trying to kick and spear his brothers so they have to suffer along with him. He's the cause of a lot of chain "Poof!-ings."

Asmo becomes the smallest, cutest scorpion you ever did see. Well, as cute as scorpions can be. His whole body becomes hot pink and he has the biggest widdle eyes (think those jumping spiders who wear raindrops on their heads type energy). He's also venomous as all hell, so his brothers HAVE to make sure that they continously call him "small, cute, and adorable" lest they suffer a week's worth of paralytic toxin. He can fit the palm of a hand and makes MC tie a little bow around his tail so he doesn't feel too bad about being under-dressed.

Beel, unfortunately, becomes a fly. A big fly (by fly standards), but a fly nonetheless. You wouldn't even know that it's him if he weren't traffic cone orange. Literally everyone panics when he gets "Poof!-ed" because it would only take some bozo with a swatter to put an end to the sweetest brother... Belphie never lets Beel out of his sight and even has a tiny leash so he can keep track of him if they have to go out. He's a lot easier to feed like this, but everyone has to resist that automatic urge to smack him away from their dinner plates.

Belphie ironically has the largest lesser form out of his brothers. He's a cow, more specifically a bull, but there's nothing special about him aside from the navy fur. He is a full grown bull and he loves to lord it over the others if they all get "Poof-ed!" at once. Also, good luck getting him to do ANYTHING in this form. He is a bull. If he does not want to move, he will not be moving. Not even Beel can carry him like this. He's the only brother who doesn't mind getting "Poof-ed!" all that much because of it.

[sanguineterrain]

most normal thing in the world | jason todd

Summary: You get hit with a love spell. Naturally, the first person you seek out is Jason Todd.

Pairing: Jason Todd x gn!reader 

Word count: 4.5k

Warnings/tags: love spell (so potentially mild dubious consent but all the feelings are reciprocated), lovesick you, lovesick jason, repressed jason, LOTS of cuddling/lovie stuff, needles, magic, pining, happy ending.

the divider

Jason's having a good night.

He made himself an indulgent lasagna, and now he's got leftovers for tomorrow. He's off from patrol tonight, which, he must admit, was nice of Cass to offer.

Yeah, Jason actually feels pretty normal. Feels like any young person would. Hell, he might put on a movie he won't pay attention to, or finally adopt a cat, just to keep the normal streak going. That's what young folks do, right?

(He can think of some other things young people do, things that Jason won't allow himself to dream of.)

Knock knock.

Jason sighs. Well. The streak was good while it lasted.

He gets up, shuffling over in his sweats. He undoes the four locks and opens the door to reveal... you.

"Uh, hey," he says, cracking the door wider. "Everything okay?"

It's late. You shouldn't be out now, even if the sun hasn't gone down yet.

Jason frowns when you sway in the doorway and don't respond.

Then you flash him the sweetest smile he's ever been on the receiving end of. Wow. Sure, Jason's seen you flash your pretty teeth before. But not like this. And not at him.

"Hi, Jaylove. Hi."

"Uh." He watches you walk right past him, into his apartment. He shuts the door. "Hi... What's goin' on? You alright?"

You turn to face him. "Why wouldn't I be? After all, you're here."

"What?"

You walk to him and take his hands in yours. Jason's eyebrows rise.

"Hey...?" Jason says, looking at your joined hands. You lace your fingers together.

"My prince," you say happily. "Your eyes are beautiful. Like emeralds. And you have a beautiful mouth. Your whole face is beautiful. I'd like to paint you."

"Are you on drugs?" Jason releases your hands to hold your face. He gently pushes your eyelids up to inspect your pupils. You just smile.

"I feel high when you touch me," you say. "Just being near you is drug enough."

Yeah, Jason's now feeling a healthy amount of paranoia. It's not that you don't stop by or that you're not nice. No, you're the sweetest creature Jason's ever had the pleasure of meeting.

But wanting to touch him? Thinking he's beautiful? Calling him your prince? Either you're drugged or he's died again and found paradise.

Then again, he probably wouldn't still be in Gotham if this were paradise. You'd definitely be here, though.

"Right. Your eyes are fine." Jason lets go of your face. "You sure you didn't take anything? Drink anything? Run into anyone?"

"I drank tea," you say, gazing up at him. "And I petted a fat orange cat. Don't you want a cat?"

"I surely do. You drank tea?"

"Mmhm. It was almost as amazing as you."

Jason nods and lets go of you so he can take your hand. "Okay. We're going to the Cave."

"How come?" you ask, but you don't protest as he leads you out and into the elevator.

"Because I wanna make sure you're okay," he says, pushing the button labeled one. You're definitely not okay, but he doesn't want to worry you.

"Oh." You lean against Jason's arm. He stiffens and looks down at you. You just burrow into his side. "'Cause you love me?"

Breath catches in his throat. You can't mean that. Do you even know what you're saying? No, impossible.

You look up when he's silent for too long. "Jay-Jay? Didja hear me?"

"Yeah," he says slowly. "Yeah, I did."

You look at him, big eyes sweet. "Don't you love me too? I love you."

Jason swallows hard. "I, um, don't think you're in your right mind."

Your lip quivers. Oh, God. No, please don't cry, please don't—

"You don't love me?" you ask, tears welling.

"I do love you," Jason says quickly, panicking at your distress. "I do. Shit. Please don't cry, honey. I do love you."

You frown, cheeks wet. "You're just saying that! You hate me!"

Jason shakes his head. "No, no! Oh, never, I could never hate ya, honest! I was just... um, this is the first time we've said it to each other, y'know? I do love you. Have for a long time now."

He strokes your cheek with his thumb, soaking up your tears. You sniffle but accept this, nodding.

"Oh. I'm sure I've told you that I love you before. I love you so much, Jason. I'll never love anyone the way I love you."

God, this is fucking torture. As the elevator reaches the ground floor, Jason takes a deep breath, lets you link your fingers with his, and leads you out to the street. The universe is intent in never granting him a normal night. Noted.

There's no way you're in your right mind. Jason's figured this from the start. But that doesn't make the way you look at him, like he's anybody worth looking at, any less painful.

He pulls out his phone, shoots a quick text to Dick. ETA 10 min.

Dick responds two seconds later. What's up?

Possible Code 12.

Jason pockets his phone, running through potential reasons for what did this to you. Ivy's not wreaking havoc tonight, as far as he knows.

Meanwhile, you're in another world, humming and holding his hand. Jason's thought about this many times, holding your hand and taking you for rides, you adoring him, hugging him, kissing him. He's nothing if not a masochist.

"Okay, sweetheart," Jason says, and you immediately turn to him, like a flower showing its face to the sun. Jason is no one's sun, though. He's more like the worm under your boot.

"Hm?" you ask, stroking his arm. Jason does his best to be normal about it.

"We're gonna, um, go to the Cave. You okay on my bike?"

You glance at his bike, and there's a tinge of apprehension on your face. Jason reaches for your shoulder, stops, then forces himself to touch you. You're not going to recoil from him, not in this state. And he's not doing it for himself; he's only touching you so that you'll let him take you to the Manor and figure out what's what.

He's not a bastard for holding your shoulder, right? He's doing it just so that you'll be safe.

(It doesn't matter. Jason knows he's a bastard for being in your life at all.)

You lean into him when he touches your shoulder.

"Never been on your bike, Jay," you say.

"I know. But I swear to you that you're safe. You know I'd never let anything happen to you, right? Never."

You nod. "Yeah. You always look out for me. 'S part of why I love you so much."

Good God. Jason's going to be a ball of self-hatred for the next millenia over this.

He puts his spare helmet on you, helping you fit the chin guard underneath.

"Okay?" he asks.

You give him a thumbs-up. Jason smiles and puts his own helmet on.

"You gotta hold on real tight, okay? As tight as you can. Don't worry 'bout hurting me."

"Mmkay!"

He helps you mount the bike first, then follows. As soon as he's on, you wrap your arms around his middle and smush your helmet into his back.

How long has he dreamed about this? Taking you on late-night rides, feeling you pressed against him, squealing as he floats through traffic (he'd never speed the way he does when he's alone; Jason doesn't give a shit about his own body, but your safety matters).

"The bike is loud, so I'm not gonna hear you if you say something, but if you want me to stop, tap my shoulder three times, okay?"

"Okay, Jaylove." You squeeze him in what's clearly a hug. "Ready."

Jason's not sure he is. It's been a long time since anyone's touched him, much less someone he's head over heels for. You're so trusting, it makes him ache. Jason's just glad he's the first jerk you laid your eyes upon instead of the magic you're under pushing you into the arms of someone dangerous.

He starts up his bike. Jason's had guests on his bike before, mostly his brothers and, once, the old lady who runs the tea shop down the block.

He's never had a lovely thing like you snuggled up to him, clinging to him. Jason feels rabid. He feels like he needs to be shot and put out of his misery.

He follows all of the road rules so you won't be scared. You don't tap his shoulder or shake, so Jason figures you're fine. He's good. He's being good for you.

Jason slows as he goes down the ramp to the Cave entrance. He stops at the mouth of the Cave and dismounts first, pulling off his helmet.

"You alright in there?" he asks, offering his hand.

You wrap your arms around his neck and Jason wobbles as he recalibrates and snakes an arm around your shoulders instead and helps you off that way. He removes your helmet. You blink at the new light, then look at him, moony-eyed once again.

"I was kinda scared," you admit. "But I trust you, Jaybee. Always."

"Got you here in one piece, didn't I?" he says, winking at you.

"Uh-huh!"

Jason sees what you're going to do before you try. He sees the way you look at his lips, how you rear back, ready to leap and kiss him.

He redirects you immediately, preferring that to making you cry again. He hates it when you cry. Your soft mouth lands on his jaw instead.

Jason smiles, strained. You're annoyed at the fact that you missed, and Jason can see that you're about to try again when Dick and Tim come into view.

He's never been more thrilled to see his brothers.

"Fellow bretheren," Jason says. He knows his voice is thin. "Funny seein' you here."

You're briefly distracted and wave to be polite. But then you force Jason's left ear to your level and catch the lobe between your teeth.

Holy fuck. Jason nearly buckles at the sensation. He's never understood the ears as an erogenous zone before—now he gets it. He's ashamed of how heat pools in his gut as you nip his ear.

Jason balances you with an arm around your waist, gingerly trying to both hide his reaction and separate you. He accomplishes neither. Tim's eyebrows are at his hairline; Dick's mouth is open, no doubt ready to make a smart-ass comment.

"Well, it's nice to see you two so... affectionate," Dick says, holding back a grin.

Jason rolls his eyes. "I need you to run tests. They showed up to my door like this, all over me."

"Yeah, that is weird," Tim says.

"Thank you very much for that, Timbit," Jason grumbles. You kiss under his ear and weave your fingers through his hair. Jason manages to get your hands off, but your mouth is still firmly planted on his neck. He clears his throat. Normal!

"I dunno, Jason," Dick says. "It's not that weird. People fall in love every day."

And, okay. Jason can do teasing. He can even do borderline psychotic remarks. That's part of having siblings. He's made a few in his day. They've all stabbed or shot each other.

But now Dick is just being cruel.

Jason scowls. "Take their blood so we can fucking get this over with. They're clearly under a love spell."

His scathing tone surprises Dick, but it really startles you. You've moved away from his ear (Jason is both relieved and disappointed) and return to cradling his arm. You're alarmed by his reply.

"Jaylove?" you ask. "What happened? Are you mad?"

Jaylove? Jason sees Tim mouth. He forces himself to focus on you, be gentle for you.

"Hm, no, not mad at ya, sweetheart. Sorry 'bout that. But we need to run some medical tests on ya, 'kay? Can we do that?"

"Sure," you chirp, linking your arm with his.

Dick and Tim slip into Work Mode. Jason appreciates that. His nerves are frayed. He senses a self-destructive episode coming on after you're cured. Maybe he'll throw himself into a bar fight tonight.

"Symptoms?" Tim asks, going to the computer.

"Being in love with me," Jason says dryly.

"Besides that. Any physical symptoms like dizziness or nausea? Recklessness?"

"No, didn't notice any sickness. Not reckless; they did everything I said." Jason swallows, says the next part quietly, fearfully. "Probably jump into the Hudson if I asked."

Tim nods sharply. Dick prepares to draw your blood. Again, you're apprehensive. But Jason soothes you, pets you, and you're leaning into him like a cat in its favorite patch of sun as Dick takes your blood.

"I wanna get married," you say as red fills the second vial.

Dick shoots him a sympathetic look. Jason looks away.

"Soon, honey," Jason says, ignoring how his stomach's a pit.

He didn't think about love or relationships when he came back. Didn't care, not when he had revenge to plot.

But after all that was over, after he met you, after he found a reason to keep living, Jason started thinking about it.

And what he realized is that he's never getting married.

By choice? Yes, sure. Jason loves pretending he has a choice in anything. Sure, he chooses to abstain from marriage, like normal people out there do. But really, he avoids attachment it wouldn't be fair to anyone. He knows he's not made for that. His death made him unsalvageable. It's a miracle he's here at all. How dare he ask for more?

And inside, he chokes on a vine of hatred for everyone else who can find someone. Who's capable of loving and being loved. It even, to Jason's shame, has reared its head at you, whispered in his ear about how you're not damaged, so of course you'll find someone one day. Of course you'll leave him eventually. It would be stupid of him to hope otherwise.

"When?" you ask as Dick starts on the third vial. You don't even notice. Dick could probably drain you dry as long as Jason's in front of you. "When can we get married?"

"How 'bout next month?" Jason says without thinking. He would. He'd marry you tomorrow.

You think about this for a moment, then nod. "Yes, that would be good. I've always wanted a fall wedding."

"Yeah? I always liked the idea of marrying in the spring. All the flowers."

"No," you say. "Pollen's out. You'd be sneezing your head off."

Jason laughs, then wants to cry, because you know that he's allergic to pollen.

"Yeah, y'right," he says, voice thick. "Fall wedding's better."

"Alright, all done!" Dick says, forcefully cheerful. He removes the needle and puts a Bandaid on the inside of your elbow. You rest your head on Jason's arm. Jason tries not to boil himself in a fire of misery. You probably won't even remember this.

Dick watches you both, then tugs your hand. "Hey, you mind helping me fill out some info? For the tests."

Your mouth shrivels. You look at Jason, and he can't believe he's your North Star, magic or not.

"I don't wanna leave Jason," you say.

"He'll be right here," Dick says quickly. "Won't leave your sight for a second. But I need your help."

"Just for a minute?" you ask.

Dick nods. "One minute."

You sigh and turn to Jason. "I'll be right back."

Jason nods, tries to smile. "Sure. I'll be here."

He'll be here. Forever and ever and ever...

Wait a second. Tea. Jason jolts.

"Tim. They said they drank tea. Could be something there."

"On it," Tim says. "Dick, we need a mouth swab."

"Right." He turns to you. "Can I—"

"No," you say, and march back to Jason. "You said a minute."

Jason would laugh at the pout on your face, the way you plop yourself next to him and curl around him like he's a new toy. He would laugh. If he could find the humor.

Dick looks at him. Jason sighs.

"Honey?" You hum. "We just need one more test, yeah? Q-tip on your tongue. Not the most pleasant, but it'll be quick. Promise."

"Okay," you say immediately, hugging his arm.

Jason knows it's a spell, or maybe a lab-made chemical. But he's still awed by how quickly you acquiesce. How you show no worry when Dick approaches because Jason's right there, patting your hand.

Dick swabs your mouth. You cough three times after, most of your body on Jason.

"Interesting how they're not lustful," Dick says.

"What," Jason says.

"Okay, the ear thing was..." Dick shrugs. "But it's not mindless. It's actually the most reasonable love spell I've ever seen. Like, their desires for you don't feel manufactured, they feel—"

"Don't," Jason snaps. "Don't fuckin' say it."

Dick holds up his hands. "It was just an observation. You've seen Ivy's pollen doses. This one seems different."

"Fine. Ivy's taking a break from the orgies. Doesn't mean this is real."

Jason's not stupid enough to hope.

"It can't be Ivy," Tim says, and Jason almost startles. He forgot Tim was there, so wrapped up in you. "No reports of Ivy attacks. And the substance, whatever it was, wasn't inhaled. It was injested."

You wrap your arms around Jason's neck and smush your face against his. You're warm and smell good. Jason feels feral.

He holds you with a hand on your back, mind turning.

"Sweetheart," he says. You hum. "You said you drank tea after work. Where exactly did you go?"

"Dunno," you say, spacey. "Went into a tea shop that's never been there before. And an old lady invited me in. She said I looked so sad. And I was, Jaybee! How did she know?"

"Hm. Well, she gave me a tea sample, said it would make all my problems disappear. Then I petted her cat named Darcy. Like that book you like!"

"I don't know, honey," Jason says quietly, even though he has a suspicion. He's never letting you walk home alone again.

Tea shop. That's what he gets for trying to be a good Samaritan. How dare she drug you?

God, Jason just wants to hug you tight and kiss your face. It's awful of him to think of you as cute in your state, he knows.

"Track their routes," Jason says. "They take two different ones home. One crosses Bank Street, the other goes over the bridge."

"I'd call you a stalker but I really have no right," Tim says, fingers flying over the keyboard.

"No shit," Jason mumbles, letting you play with his fingers.

"Jason," Dick says quietly. He glances at you, then at his brother. "If it's too much, we can sedate them."

"No. We don't know how it'll react to the tea. It's not Ivy's brew."

Dick frowns. He knows Jason's right. Jason knows he's right.

"Okay, I got something. Magic signatures from a building on Tenth Street," Tim says. "And I think I'm onto an antidote."

"I'll check it out," Dick says, going to suit up. He looks at Jason. "Are you-?"

Jason nods. "I'm fine. Go."

So Dick does. Tim is able to make an antidote within the hour. He gives it to Jason who injects it into your neck. He feels guilty even though this is what’ll cure you. You wince at the pinch but you don't so much as whimper, endlessly trusting.

"They'll probably crash soon," Tim says, out of your earshot. "I don't know if you should risk the bike."

Jason sighs. Tim's right, and it makes him all the more agitated that his brothers have been helpful and even kind of nice during the whole thing.

You're going to crash soon. Jason has no choice but to bring you up to the Manor.

"Come on, sweetheart," he says, taking your hand and standing.

"Where're we goin'?" you ask, yawning.

"Goin’ t’bed, honey. Aren't ya tired?"

"Hmm. Mmhmm."

"Yeah, thought so."

Jason leads you up the stairs and out of the Cave. He helps keep you steady as you trip up the stairs. He's tempted to just carry you, but he feels like that might be overkill.

Once at the top of the stairs, Jason stops. Swallows.

He hasn't been up here in a while. He slept in his room once after he returned, after a nasty encounter with Scarecrow.

"Wanna sleep in your bed, Jay," you mumble, cheek against his arm.

Jason sighs. "Yeah. Okay, love."

You go to his room. It's clean, as usual—Alfred never let it get dusty. Jason had hoped that if you ever saw his room it would be in much different circumstances. Normal circumstances.

But, well. Here you are.

"Hmm, 's nice," you say as Jason pulls back the bedspread and helps you out of your shoes. You start to take off your pants and he panics.

"Uh! Uh, baby, maybe keep the pants on. You might get cold."

You frown in confusion. "Doesn't feel cold."

"Yeah, but, whew, Alfred blasts the AC! Jus' keep 'em on."

Jason cannot handle seeing you in your underwear. He draws the line there.

"'Kay," you say, and flop onto the sheets. You wiggle around, getting comfortable.

Jason sits in the fat armchair in the corner of the room. Immediately, you sit up.

"Why're you over there?" you ask, eyes wide.

Oh, boy.

"Oh. I was, um, gonna read for a bit. I'll come in in a while."

Your lip trembles. No—

"Don't leave me, Jaybee. Don't leave! Stay with me. I love you!"

Jason rubs his forehead. "Honey—"

"You hate me! You do! I annoy you." Tears gather in your eyes.

Jason hurries to the edge of his bed, climbing in in his jeans and socked feet.

"No, no, love, we covered this. I don't hate ya, hm? Where'd ya get a silly thing like that?"

You quiet as he scoots in beside you. Then you throw most of your limbs over him. Jason stiffens.

"Just got scared," you say, and kiss his chest. "Promise you won't leave?"

Jason breathes in. Breathes out.

"Yeah. I promise."

And he stays.

You wake up with a faint headache and a dry throat. Sunlight peeks through the blinds. You feel warm and safe and well-rested, despite the slight pains.

You stretch, expecting air. Instead, you touch skin. You open your eyes.

Oh. You're in a bedroom.

No, scratch that. You see framed pictures of the Bats, books on shelves.

You're in Jason Todd's childhood bedroom. With the aforementioned tucked under your arm and leg.

You jerk away so hard, you land on the carpeted floor below.

Jason's up instantly, head poking over the bed. His eyes widen.

"Shit! Y'alright? C'mere."

He gets up and practically scoops you into a standing position. Your brain short-circuits: big strong man strong big good nice. Then you recover.

"Um," you say. "Uh. Hmm. Hi."

Jason smiles tightly. "Hey."

"What... how-?"

"Right. How much do you remember?"

You try to think. You remember walking home, drinking tea, an affectionate orange cat. You remember hands on your face and your stomach swooping on a motorcycle and a gentle voice. So gentle.

"You were magicked," Jason says quickly. "It was a, uh, tea shop. Dick's checking it out. You, um, came to me and I took you here and you got an antidote and you didn't want me to, um, leave. So, yeah. Sorry."

You tilt your head. "Why are you apologizing, Jason?"

He sighs. "Just 'cause."

You have no idea what that means. But you feel like Jason's telling you a very condensed version of what happened.

"What was the magic?" you ask.

He winces. "Love spell. You thought you were... in love with me."

Jason says it like he's the one who charmed you. Like he's ashamed of it.

"Oh," you say. Well, you certainly didn't need a spell for that to happen.

"Yeah." Jason's staring at your and his shoes by the door. "But everything's fine now. I can take you home. Dick and Tim'll take care of the tea shop witch."

He doesn't wait for a response, darting to the door and slipping into his shoes. You rush forward and close the door as Jason opens it. He looks at you in confusion.

"Jason," you say softly. "What happened?"

"Whaddya mean? I told you."

"Jason. I've known you for three years. You think I don't know when you're not telling me something?"

He looks at his feet. One of his socks has a hole in the toe.

"There's nothin' to tell," he mumbles. "Magic stuff. Happens all the time. Business as usual."

You frown. "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable, Jay. I admittedly don't remember a lot."

Jason's expression is relief but there's a heaviness to his shoulders. "Well, 's for the best, really. Magic messes with your head."

"Did I make you uncomfortable, Jason? Not letting you leave and—God, I can't imagine how I was on the spell."

He shakes his head fervently. "No! No, no, my God, no. You didn't—you could never—I mean, I wasn't... fuck. No. You didn't make me uncomfortable."

"If you're sure," you say.

He nods. "Hundred percent."

Jason doesn't sound like he's lying. You're pretty good at detecting it, especially when it comes to his feelings.

So why is he acting weird?

Well, duh. A love spell. You probably freaked him out, especially since you really do love him.

"I hope we can still be friends," you offer.

Jason turns to the door.

"Yeah," he says quietly. "'Course we're still friends."

It shouldn't make you ache. Jason's perfectly in the right to not reciprocate how you feel. How can he reciprocate something he doesn’t even know exists?

"You, uh..." Jason scratches the back of his neck. He faces you once more. "You said last night that you were sad. When you were coming home. I just wanted to say, y'know... you can talk to me. 'Bout anything."

This will make all of your problems disappear, she had said. It'd tasted like kombucha—you hadn't had a lot of faith.

Jason begins to open the door. You slide in front of him and slam the door shut with your back. He steps back in surprise.

"Wh—"

"I have to tell you something!" you blurt.

Jason stills. "Okay."

"I adopted you a cat," you say.

He squints. "What?"

"Well, she's still at the shelter but I put her on reserve. Of a sort. I have a friend who works there. She's black and white and likes to cuddle and has two different colored eyes but she can't see very well. Her name is... whatever you want to name her. Because she's yours. And I think you'll love her."

He nods slowly. "I, uh, thanks. Thank you. I was thinking about adopting a—"

"I was sad last night because I kept thinking about how you're gonna love this cat I got you but you'll never love me, and how that's the fucking worst feeling in the world."

You've stunned him silent. Shit.

Seconds tick by. A minute. Two minutes.

"Okay," you say, wanting to jump out of Jason's two-story window. "I'm gonna go drop off the face of the Earth now. Bye."

You open the door. Jason closes it by caging you against it.

And then he kisses you.

Jason pours everything into the kiss. He's not a perfect kisser but it's good. It's magic. He holds your face completely, shuts out the entire world. Kisses the breath out of you.

Yes, you could go on. It's fantastic. It's fireworks. It's sunbeams.

And actually, it feels like the most normal thing in the world, kissing Jason Todd.

[devotion-disorder]

yooo my first time going un-anon, let's goooo (ive been lurking)

when i saw that kuuya used to have a guitar AND also ALMOST made it into a band but had to sell the guitar, i kid you not i was touched. as someone who used to be in a band (went seperate ways) and ALSO sold their bass in result of the group falling apart, i immediately fell in love with this guy he's so relateable honestly he's so sjdhsjdhwhdhssha

poor boy looks so malnourished and desperate like like bro if i was his boss i would IMMEDIATELY give him a FAT raise. so fat it would make the company go bankrupt but IIIII DOOOOONT CAAAAARREEEE

had to do my boy a favor. anyway heres anon patting kuuya because HE DESERVES IT

been a good two years since i drew so honestly this didn't match up my expectations but eh and also struggled with drawinf the cat (hell that's still a sketch) so i gave up halfway honestly. anyway, kuuya definitely deserves some recognition. a pat in the head even. a raise even. the company even--

guitarist kuuya you were too great for this world you'll be missed. a moment of silence please :broken_heart:

first of all, I'm glad the small glimpse into Kuuya's past was able to resonate with you...!! it was a bittersweet chapter in his life, but one that he looks back on somewhat fondly nonetheless...! Secondly, THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE CUTEST ART WAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH look at his lil sparkly eyes 😭😭😭😭 and little fluffy kuunya................a raise is...unlikely, considering the black company that he works in currently but headpats will do for now!!!!!!!!!!!

[slvttyplum]

satoru is definitely a “would you still love me if i got turned into like a cat?”

his mind is always racing with thoughts? that ought that don’t even make sense, thoughts that can’t be put into words, probably why they just stay thoughts.

the other half he shares with you.

“i saw this fat ass baby today and it made me think of you.”

your eyebrows shoot up because what the fuck does that mean? is he calling you a baby or just fat.

“would you turn me into a dragon for a million?”

“huh?”

it’s not like those things bothered you, hell, you’ve had your fair share of “would you still love me if i was a dragonfly?”

you found it cute when he talked out loud and made you really think, it was good mental exercise.

“okay say i was trapped, but so were you, who would you save?”sometimes the questions aren’t that good but it’s fun.

he’s always laying on the bed kicking his feet and poking your cheeks asking you questions, he just likes to talk.

“do you know that dolphins aren’t actually that intelligent and the…”

“is that so?”

you’re listening to it all the time. he always has silly facts in the back of his pocket like he’s a fact site.

sometimes you tried to get cute and do the same thing, look up little facts and keep them in the back of your mind to tell him.

“bats are the only mammals that can fly.” you say smiling, the cutest smile plastered on your face, satoru fucking loses it.

he finds it so adorable that you would look up fun facts to tell him.

the whole dynamic with him is really fun, there’s never a dull moment in your relationship.

you’re both just two silly cats who love each other.

“no but seriously would you buy me and put me in my cute glasses if i was a cat?”

“… yes satoru.”

[alastor-simp]

Be My Valentine - Alastor x Female Reader

♥️HAPPY VALENTINES DAY EVERYONE! Also I know Alastor is AroAce, but lets just assume in this fic he is not. Enjoy♥️

It was finally Valentine’s Day in Hell, a little holiday that some demons enjoy doing with their partners and others that find it absolutely ridiculous, like a certain deer demon. Alastor didn’t much care for a silly little festivity like this. He found romance a bit ridiculous, but he wouldn’t go as far as to make fun of someone else in a relationship, it wasn’t who he was. He did find Charlie and Vaggie’s relationship adorable, since he saw how happy the two of them were together. The little sparks between Husker and Angel were easy for him to spot, and it led to lot of teasing at the hands of Alastor, which earned him a middle finger from a certain cat on occasions.

Since it was Valentine’s Day, Charlie thought it would be a great idea to decorate the hotel. Heart paper strings were hanging from the ceiling, along with XOXO and heart balloons on the walls. It wouldn’t be Valentine’s Day without some sweets, so Charlie along with Niffty made some chocolate covered strawberries and pretzels for everyone else to enjoy. You were trying to figure out how to help liven the mood. “Music would be nice” you thought. Heading over to the record player, you skimmed for any good songs to play. Frank Sinatra was what you picked, and you decided to play that. The melody began to carry out all throughout the lobby, catching everyone ears, causing them to sway. “Ah! Excellent choice my dear!” You heard Al’s voice call out from behind you. He was sitting on one of the chairs, with a hot cup of coffee in his hand, wearing a pleasing smile. Smiling back, you made your way over to the couch and took a seat, listening to the tunes.

Soon Charlie came running back, “Okay everyone! Ready to start the Valentine gift exchange!” Before the decorations were put up, Charlie suggested that everyone pitch in and do a Valentine gift exchange. The gifts would be exchanged between two individuals: Charlie + Vaggie, Angel Dust + Husk, Niffty + Sir Pentious, and You + Alastor. Everyone got together and presented the gifts. Charlie had given a bottle of perfume and new hair bow for Vaggie. Vaggie gave Charlie a unicorn plushie and T-shirt with their faces on them. Angel got Husk a fancy bottle of Italian wine. Husk gave Angel a popular perfume from the Lust ring plus some mini outfits for Fat Nuggets. Niffty had actually handmade mini plushies of Sir Pentious and his egg bois. Sir Pentious got Niffty some roses plus a new sewing kit.

Now it was time for you and Alastor to exchange gifts. While you did have something for Al, there was something else you wanted to give him, but it was a surprise. Alastor was smiling down at you, hands behind his back, holding a mini box and bouquet. “Here you are my dear!” He handed you the box and flowers. Ahh he remembered how much you loved (your favorite flowers). Thanking Alastor, you opened the box, which contained a beautiful ruby necklace

“W-ow Al! This is beautiful! Thank you.” Holding the necklace up, you looked up at Alastor, face flushed. “You’re welcome, my dear! Allow me!” Grabbing the necklace from your hands, he motioned his body behind you, helping to place the necklace around your neck. Turning back around, you pulled out your gift and presented it to Al, “Happy Valentines Day Al” Grabbing the black box with red ribbon from your hand, he opened it, revealing a new rose tinted monocle. He had broken the one he had before, and didn’t have the time to replace it. “Ah I needed a new monocle. Thank you kindly, y/n!” Smiling you nodded your head and faced back towards the others

Al looked into the box again and saw a little piece of paper that was placed underneath the monocle. Turning away, he took the paper out and read it:

“ᴄᴏᴍᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴏᴏꜰᴛᴏᴘ ᴀᴛ 8 ᴘᴍ”

Well well, what was this? Another surprise, perhaps? Smile widening on his face, He placed the paper in his suit pocket, before turning back to everyone like nothing happened. The day continued as normal, with everyone chatting about random topics and participating in some bonding activities like board games and watching some random romance movies. It soon gotten late and it was time for everyone to head to bed, or so you thought. The glances you saw between Charlie and Vaggie hinted that they were going to be doing something else. Even Husk and Angel dust, especially since you saw Angel dragging Husk into his bedroom, well good for them, they make a cute couple. Going to head up and finish your plans, your eyes caught Al who had looked right at you. You smiled and walked away.

**8 PM- Alastors POV**

"Hmm I wonder what the little darling has planned for me?” Al thought to himself, as he made his way to the location you told him in the note. Ascending up the stairs, Al arrived at the door that led to the rooftop and opened it slowly. His eye widen at what he saw. In front of him was a small dinner table with chairs, decorated with candles and roses.

He was left stunned by what he saw. Walking closer to where the table is, he admired the little set-up. "Do you like it?" Turning his head around, Al saw you standing there, wearing a flowy black dress, bright smile place on your face. Alastor looked back at the table, then at you, "Was this the little surprise you had planned for me? If you wanted to have dinner with me, all you had to do was ask, my dear." Alastor gave a soft smile, making his way to you, lifting your chin, "You look positively radiant, darling." His words caused you to flush, "T-thank you. Go and take a seat Al. I'll be right back," Alastor smiled and let you go, heading over to the chair to take a seat.

Soon, you came back holding two plates, the aroma wafting off of them was mouth-watering. Placing them down, the smile on Al's face had widen. In front of him was a tender venison steak, his favorite, along with a side of salad and baked potatoes.

After that, you had grabbed a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon, and poured it into the wine glasses for both you and Al. Once everything was set in place, you slowly took a seat on the other side of the table. "This is my first time cooking venison, so I hope you like it." You fidgeted with your fingers under the table. "This looks spectacular! Thank you my dear!" He grabbed his wine glass and held it up in front of you, "Cheers, my dear!" Smiling, you grabbed your glass, bumping it against Al's, letting out a small clink. The both of you started to eat the meal you prepared, well you were watching Al more than eating, monitoring his reaction. You knew about his diet and what he mainly ate, so last thing you wanted was for him to try the venison you prepared and do a spit-take. The fork in Al's hand, held a piece of steak, and slowly it made its way into his mouth. The whole time you were sitting there, gazing at his reaction to see if he liked it. His expression didn't change, but he went back in for another bite, and another, and another. Heaving a sigh of relief, you were happy that he liked the meal, letting you go back to your meal.

Soon the both of you had finished eating, letting out a satisfied sigh. "Delicious!" Al said, wearing a pleasant smile. "I'm glad you enjoyed it. Are you in the mood for some dessert?" You said as you got up from the table, and made your way over to grab the dessert that was hidden. Walking back, you placed a bowl of chocolate covered strawberries on the table.

"My dear, you know I'm not a fan of sweets." Al said to you, while looking at the bowl with strained face. "I made these myself using dark chocolate, so they won't be as sweet, trust me." Grabbing one of the strawberries, you held it up towards all, "Say ahh." Al raised an eyebrow at that, but he shook his head, amused at your actions, before taking a bite. Looking at him, you were expecting him to spit it out, but surprisingly he swallowed, "Not bad!"

Whew, glad he liked them. Now it was time to tell him what you were thinking/feeling. "Um Al? Can I ask you something?" Alastor looked at you, smiling like the joker. "Of course my dear! What is it?" He leaned in, placing his elbows on the table, lifting his head up with his hands. The butterflies in your stomach were going crazy, and your palms were sweating. Your eyes looked down at your hands, until you turned your head back up to look at Al. "W-will you be my valentine?" Alastor eyes widen at that statement, but he continued to gaze at you. Feeling nervous, you looked back down to your hands, "Y-you don't have to answer, I understand you find romance and stuff a hindrance." you said. The two of you were sitting in awkward silence, until you heard his chair scrap across the ground, indicating he had gotten up. You knew it, he was going to leave. You had made him upset.

A hand was placed under your chin, making you look up. Alastor hadn't left, he had only gotten up to get closer to you. "Stand up, my dear." He said to you. Moving slowly, you got up from your chair and stood in front of Al. He continued to look down at you, his eyes flashing crimson. Then he got closer, and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a warm hug. "What an adorable request! I must admit, developing relationships with another is still new to me. However! I wouldn't mind forming one with you, my dear. I accept!" He whispered all of this in your ear, causing goosebumps to form. Your eyes got teary, as you hugged him back. After a while, Alastor moved a bit, placing one hand under your chin, and the around your back. He had a small smile on his face and his eyes were soft. "Happy Valentines day, my doe." His head moved closer to yours, causing you to slowly shut your eyes, letting his lips press against yours in a soft kiss.

~END~

Tagging:

@pepperycookie , @yourdoorisunlocked, @ghostdoodlen, @aceofcards0-0, @jyoongim, @saturnhas82moons, @unholycheesesnack , @luujjvi, @forbidden-sunlight, @pinkcrystal44 , @veethewriter , @rains-sleeping @danveration , @demoarah, @cookiekyo , @iiotic, @delectableworm , @91062854-ka , @alastorsgoldie , @lokis-imaginary-friend , @themysteriousslenderman

[moonstruckme]

Divots

summary: James shows you the practical uses of your stretch marks

cw: reader deals with body insecurities, the barest suggestion of smut

James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

James Potter is always touching you, and you can’t figure out how to feel about it. 

He’ll wrap an arm around your waist, or play absentmindedly with your fingers, or brush a casual touch against your face, and your heart will swell as your stomach twists itself into knots. James is a tactile person. You’ve seen him exchange casual touches with his friends, with his teammates—hell, sometimes even with random classmates. That kind of closeness doesn’t come naturally to you, though some part of you seems to crave it; all it takes is James brushing his hand against yours and you’re fighting the urge to rub up against him like a cat, even as your brain buzzes with nervous static. 

So the feeling isn’t entirely unfamiliar when you’re doing homework in his room and James' hand finds your thigh. Every nerve in your being fires up instantly, but you do your best not to tense. One glance at James lets you know he’s done it without noticing, the entirety of his focus still on the parchment in front of him even as his thumb starts to rub a slow, soothing back-and-forth on your leg. 

You try to remember to breathe, letting yourself acclimate to the sensation, and return your attention to your own work. Except, not really. Every movement of James' large hand makes a mockery of your feeble attempts at concentration. The barest pressure of his thumb as it sweeps over your thigh, the way his pinkie finger makes a tiny indentation in your fat, the tiny shifting of the ligaments in his hand as he adjusts his grip. It’s almost imperceptible, but not to you. Right now, you doubt a speck of dust could blow by without you noticing it. 

Times like this, you envy James for the security he so obviously feels around touching and being touched. Being with him—being loved and admired by him—has helped you make slow progress in feeling better about yourself, and you resent the years you spent dreading someone feeling the chub of your thighs or seeing the softness of your stomach. James makes physical contact look so easy, you know it’d never occur to him that anyone else could struggle with it. He’d been nothing but sweet and respectful when you’d startled at his hands on you during the first couple of weeks you’d been dating, promising to take things more slowly, but he’d only thought you were jumpy. James probably couldn’t fathom that every time he palms the fat around your ribs or hauls you towards him gripping your hips, images of his disgust with you form, unbidden but crystal-clear, in your mind’s eye. 

You’re trying to shove those images back into the cobwebby recesses of your consciousness they came from when James fingers start to toy absentmindedly with the divots in your inner thigh. 

You inhale sharply.

James turns to you, his eyes moving from your horrified face to the movement of his fingers on your leg. 

“Oh, sorry,” he laughs. “I didn’t even realize I’d grabbed you.” He gives you an apologetic squeeze, and you flinch slightly, instantly sorry as James’ eyes widen and he removes his hand. “Shit, am I hurting you?”

His eyes rove your legs, searching for bruises or something else to explain your pained reaction, and you’re so used to him looking at you that by now it shouldn’t bother you, but between his fingers on your warped inner thigh and the awkwardness that’s resulted from your reaction, it’s too much. His gaze feels like it’s scorching you.

“No,” you say quickly. “No, I’m sorry, I’m fine.” 

James’s eyes move back to your face,and relief has you thinking more clearly despite his befuddled expression. He tilts his head like a puppy. “Sorry, Jamie, it’s just—” you suck in a bracing breath, knowing he deserves an explanation but also knowing there’s no way this isn’t going to be humiliating. “No one’s ever touched my stretch marks before, and I kind of flipped out. Sorry.” 

James blinks. “I haven’t touched them before now?”

“No.” 

“Well, that’s been a mistake.” 

“James, don’t.” You can’t look at him. You want nothing more than for this conversation to be over, and it’s your fault it’s happening at all. If you’d just been able to keep your reaction in check…

“Don’t what, sweetheart?” James’ tone is jovial, but there’s a bit of challenge in there. It’s not one you intend to rise to meet. “They’re lovely.”

“They’re…” Ugly. Blemishes. Proof that you’ve never had the kind of perfect, athletic body James does. “They’re embarrassing.” 

“Angel, no,” James sounds so heartbroken you wonder if he’s somehow heard everything else you’d really wanted to say, and then his hand is under your jaw, encouraging your head up until your eyes meet his, warm and brown and lovely. “They’re just you. You know this scar?” he rolls up his sleeve, revealing the tiny white line on his arm from when he’d fallen off his broom and his bone had jutted out his second year. 

“Yeah,” you say warily. 

“Do you think it’s embarrassing?”

You feel your eyebrows furrow, immediately defensive. “Of course not. But that’s different.”

“It’s not,” he says, with a firmness you don’t expect from him. “You think I give a shit if you’ve got some marks on you? They’re just proof that your body’s been lived in. And I happen to like you and your body, so have some respect, please.” James grins. You’re softening, and he knows it. “Plus, they’re great for traction.” 

Now it’s your turn to be confused. “What do you mean?”

Wordlessly, he grips your thighs in two big hands, digging his thumbs into the stripes along the insides, and yanks you into his lap. You release a squeal, and James swallows it readily, pressing his mouth to yours as he lets the tops of his thumbnails skim gently over the indents in your skin. You blame it on the friction, but that’s where the warmth starts; in the flawed insides of your thighs, making its way to your core until you’re molten and brainless under James’ touch. 

“See?” he murmurs against your lips. “They’re not just for looks, they’re useful too.”

[fizziepopangel]

HuskerDust Headcanons (romantic)

Husk says “I love you” first. It’s not a big romantic thing, but to Angel Dust it means the world.

Angel and Husk were both quite affectionate with each other. The two can often be found cuddling in one of their bedrooms. Angel loves being held, but his favorite way for them to cuddle is actually having Husk lay on top of him since he finds the pressure grounding, and he’s found that scratching the cat demon’s back between his wings or scratching behind his ears while he’s tired and comfortable results in purring.

Angel steals Husk's hat every now and again.... Sometimes he steals it solely for the purpose of putting it on Fat Nuggets to take cute pictures of him in it.... While the pictures are adorable, this has resulted in the little pig occasionally taking it upon himself to steal the hell cat's hat, resulting in the man chasing the little creature around the hotel like a madman.

Husk becomes the father figure Fat Nuggets never had and Angel absolutely goes crazy for the relationship between his pet pig and boyfriend.

Although he doesn’t show it often, Husk does sometimes get overwhelmed, causing him to eventually break down in tears. During these episodes, Angel usually holds the grumpy drunk, rubbing his back and humming “Loser Baby” until he’s calmed down enough to talk, or until he’s fallen asleep.

Angel is a sucker for romance. He buys Husk flowers, makes big plans for their anniversary, makes long and mushy posts and posts cutesy pictures on his sinstagram, and goes all out for Husk’s birthday. Husk acts annoyed, but he secretly enjoys the little romantic gestures.

Despite not being the most romantic man, he does randomly grab Angel at random points while they’re together and begin dancing with the man, even humming or singing softly under his breath when Angel points out that there’s no music.

Charlie has so many candid photos of the couple being cute. She’s making a scrapbook for them for their anniversary

After Husk showed him the song, Angel plays “A Sunday Kind of Love" whenever their anniversary lands on a Sunday and makes Husk breakfast in bed as it plays. He calls it their song. 

When Angel can, he does drag shows at one of his favorite clubs in downtown Pride. Husk goes to every one of Angel’s drag shows to watch him perform and despite his usual gruff demeanor, he cheers the loudest when his boyfriend is on stage.

After long, rough shoots in Valentino's studio, Angel usually comes back to the hotel exhausted and sore so he sits at the bar, sipping water and listening to Husk grumble about work until he falls asleep at the bar. Husk usually ends up carrying him to bed despite constantly grumbling about being "too old for this shit".

In the event that they both wanted to get married, both of these men would try to make the perfect plan to propose to the other. 

In an attempt to be romantic, Husk would begrudgingly ask Alastor to help him make a nice Italian dinner and a cake to hide the ring in. He would be an anxious wreck through the whole dinner as Angel ate as he waited for dessert and the discovery of the ring within the cake.

Angel on the other hand would go the cheesier way of dressing Fat Nuggets up in a little tux and tying a ring around his neck with a bow and having him come up to Husk as the two had dessert with a sign that reads “Will you marry my daddy?”

In true romantic comedy fashion, Angel’s proposal pig would get to Husk right as Angel nearly choked on the ring Husk put into the cake. Of course, they would both say yes.

Despite not being the romantic in their relationship, Husk is a bit of a groom-zilla. It’s not really that he cares about flowers or color schemes or any of it, he’d be happy as long as he’s with the man he loves and their an open bar so he lets Angel handle it all for the most part…. But he does think Angel deserves the best and he’d be damned if he didn’t make sure that man’s day didn’t go absolutely perfectly.

Niffty makes Angel’s wedding dress, and although he will deny it, Husk does cry when he sees Angel in it.

Husk doesn't choose the first song they dance to, but he does request later in the night that the song Frank Sinatra’s “I Could Write a Book" be played so he can ask Angel to dance to that.

Husk recites his vows to Anthony, not Angel Dust.

[rookiesbookies]

141 with a physically affectionate reader who gets cuteness aggression and attacks their faces with kisses at the most random times

Did have to google some Scottish slang( is slang the right term?) for Soap so sorry if its trash or wrong.

Price

First time you saw him shirtless. Look that soft layer of fat over his muscles is enticing, I’d bite too.

His eyes went wide and he just looked at you. He looked like his eyes were gonna pop out of his face.

“Love, did you mean to bite me?”

“Your pec looked delicious and you’re just so cute I couldn’t help it!”

He’s horrified, also holding both his pecs like a lady who got caught with her bra off. He couldnt decide if he liked being called cute or not and he sure as hell couldn’t decide about if he enjoy you munching on his pec or not.

So you just decided to plant kisses all over his face.

Soap

I feel like you got cuteness aggression the first time you got him naked.

It was just supposed to be a nibble, you weren’t meaning to bite his ass cheek. It was just so cute, clenched up, and ready to be nibbled.

He shrieked, “are you a bloody bampot!”

“... no?”

“Get yer whee mouth on my fuckin boaby not my fuckin arse, ya clarty lass! Fuckin dafty, yer are.”

“Thank you?”

“I said I’d rather your mouth be on my dick and not my ass.”

“I’ll just smother you in kisses instead.”

Ghost

Lowkey you just get cuteness aggression every time you see him. Especially with his mask on. Planting kisses weren’t as easy and violence was chosen. So going in for a hug when he’s about to get in the shower the turns into you biting his meaty shoulder, earning a smack on the head.

“What’s fooking wrong with ya today?”

“You just look so cute.”

He pulled off mask, “look me in my face and say that again.”

You look at him taking a breath to keep a straight face, “you’re a cutie patootie.”

Gaz

“You know, you’re in the dictionary next to the word cute right?” You said, while sitting in his lap, planting aggressive kisses on his face and body.

“Really?”

“Yup.” You mumbled before pinching the inside of his thigh making him scream and smack your head lightly.

“NO. Bad!”

Yeah, cuteness aggression is something he wasn’t ready for. Have fun explaining it to him because he is already staring in disbelief.

Konig

He gets cuteness aggression with you, so getting it right back with the blonde hair that litters his chest. You were trying to pull on it gently to see how sensitive it is, making biscuits like a cat while kissing all over his face, it wasn’t actually the aggression.

You didn’t see him about to cry under his mask from how it hurt. Until he pulled back.

“My love please be gentler.”

“Huh?”

“Very sensitive.”

“Oh.”

Krueger

When he look his mask off for the first time, the cuteness aggression was overwhelming for you. You tried your best to just gently hold his face and plant kisses up and down it, but it was too much he was so cute it was overwhelming, you had to pinch his cheeks. He yelped and pulled your hands away from his face.

“What the fuck is wrong with you!”

“You’re too cute, I can't help it!”

“You’re cruel, fucking cruel.”

Keegan

“Hey, babes, can we chill out? You’ve been aggressively rubbing my back for half an hour.”

“Your tattoo is so cute I cant help it!”

He had gotten your favorite animal tattooed on his back. You were rubbing it while kissing the back of his neck vehemently.

“I just wanna,” and you pinched it and he pinched your calf, making you silently scream.

You smacked his back, “too hard! You pinched me so much harder than I pinched you!”

“Na-uh.” He said sassily.

“Ya-huh.”

[archangeldyke-all]

okay i’ve seen people talk about werewolf sevika but what about werecat sevika like she gives off such cat vibes she’s an introvert who so would love sitting by her window or on her porch watching things also i’ve always headcanoned that she literally purrs when you scratch her head so werecat sev just makes sense to me

YES i fucking LOVE THIS

this is what i think sevika would look like in cat form btw hehehehehe (send me cats u think sevika would look like too! i want to see all ur ideas)

men and minors dni

it all starts with a loose lab-cat. singed had pumped the thing with shimmer and underestimated its strength. he returned to the lab the next morning to a broken glass cage, quickly followed by hissing and hollering coming from the bar.

sevika stepped on the cat's tail where it had been sleeping beneath a table. in return, the cat sunk it's claws into sevika's calf-- four deep scratches running down her leg-- dripping half blood red, half shimmer pink.

singed told her she'd be okay.

he told her to go home and sleep it off and that she'd be fine.

singed is a fucking liar.

the next full moon, sevika turns into a cat.

not a panther, or a lion, or a fucking tiger or something cool. a fucking house cat. and a tiny one too.

she didn't tell anyone. who could she tell? singed would just try to strap her to a lab table and start experimenting on her. silco would probably just laugh. jinx might be her best bet if she wanted answers, but she fears that jinx would do something horrible like pet her or something.

so she just... deals with it.

the more full moons that pass, the more used to it she gets, and the more she can transform herself at will without the moon's powers.

she kinda likes being a cat. it's useful as fuck in the undercity, with all it's steep walls and drop-offs. it gives her crystal clear vision, even in the deepest darkest streets; it gives her great instincts, even in her human form, and...

there's nothing quite like finding a stray beam of sun and curling up for a few minutes to snooze on a peaceful day. both in her human and cat form.

which is how she meets you.

you live on a high floor of a big apartment building in the lanes. it's miserable climbing up and down the stairs multiple times a day, but the nice thing about it is you're high up enough to get some direct sunlight in your home for a good few hours a day.

you don't have a cat-- your landlord would kill you. but you keep a two little pots of catnip and catgrass growing on your fire-escape, a little tin of water and some tuna or chicken when you've got scraps to spare.

you've got a few cats that come to visit you a few times a week, all varying levels of friendly.

the white stray visits every afternoon to snack on your plants, sometimes bringing a skinny orange friend along with her. you let them be, watching fondly through the window as they groom each other.

there's a fat tuxedo cat that you know has an owner somewhere in the neighborhood, that seems to know when you set out food scraps-- always there in a flash to gobble them up. he's friendly as hell, meowing incessantly at your window until you open it up for him and let him come in to get pets for a few hours before returning home for dinner.

there's a new litter of calico kittens you've caught sight of. you think there's five or six separate kitties, but you can never keep track because they grow so and change so much between your sightings of them.

and then there's your newest visitor.

she's a unique cat, silver eyes, only three legs, her left front leg missing completely. there's blue scratches running down her left side, shimmering in the sun when the wind blows her fur away enough for you to see them.

and she doesn't eat any of your plants, or drink any of your water. most of the time, you come home and find her sleeping in a ray of sun. and every time when she wakes up and realizes you're home, the cat will jump up on your windowsill and simply watch you; her tail twitching occasionally in the wind, purring loud enough for you to hear through the little window as her silver eyes follow your every movement inside.

.....

sevika's fucked.

she's so, so, so fucked.

she's been fucking stabbed, twice, and she's loosing blood so quickly that she's starting to see spots.

the men who stabbed her are chasing her, and she's leaving a trail of blood right to herself. no matter how fast she runs, she's not going to lose them.

she's so woozy that she almost forgets that she's got fucking magical powers. she ducks into an alley and quickly transforms, before sprinting away. that takes care of those idiots beating her to death-- but it doesn't change the fact that sevika's dying.

she doesn't know where to go.

the last drop is way too far for her to get there before she bleeds out. she's got no friends in this neighborhood-- and people down here don't have the spare time, money, or sympathy for a dying street cat.

wait.

she knows someone who likes street cats.

someone sweet, and pretty, and always smiling and talking to her like she can speak human language. she can, but she knows your other cat visitors can't-- and it just makes her like you all the more- - the idea of you talking to some clueless cat, just like you talk to her.

she makes it to your fire escape just before her three legs give out.

and while her vision starts to fade completely, the clouds overhead move and a beam of sun shines down on her, the smell of your cat plants wafting over her as the wind blows.

well, sevika supposes. if i'm gonna die i guess this is the nicest place to do it.

you come home and find a dead woman on your fire escape... which isn't a total surprise in this neighborhood.

it's only when you go out to prod at her that you get really freaked out-- because she's not dead, just barely breathing.

you scramble to pull the woman inside your apartment, spreading her out on your bed and nearly throwing up at the sight of two deep stab wounds in her sides.

you've got some shimmer stored in your medicine cabinet in case of emergencies, and you quickly slide the liquid down her throat before scrambling to find something to stitch her side together with.

you aren't sure if it's a good thing or a bad thing when she starts blinking awake, groaning in pain and weakly trying to shove you away from her wounds.

"hey hey hey, wake up." you say, shaking her shoulders. she grunts and scrunches her face up. when her eyes blink open, your stomach twists.

you've never seen eyes that silver besides on the cat that comes to visit you. they're different on a person. much more attractive.

"uh..." you say, trailing off for a second suddenly realizing that the woman beneath you is very naked. and now that you're looking at her, the blue scars on her left side seem awfully familiar. you clear your throat. "uh, wake up." you say again, gently smacking her cheek.

she gasps awake when you start stitching up her second wound. "fuck!" she shouts. and then, she seems to process where she is. "fuck." she says.

you gulp. "uh, i'll get you a blanket." you offer.

sevika nods numbly as you-- the woman she's been shamelessly peeping on for the past year-- stumble out of your bedroom.

"i thought you were dead, honestly, and then you started moving and i got really freaked out. gave you some shimmer-- i hope you don't mind." you ramble as you walk back into your room, throwing a blanket over sevika. "is there anyone i should call for or...?"

"you're even prettier up close." she says. then she cringes.

fuck she didn't mean to say that. it must be the blood loss. and the shimmer. and your pretty eyes.

"uh..." sevika watches as you start to back away like you're scared, and she huffs before she gathers all her energy and transforms into her cat form. "what the fuck?!" you squawk as the woman in front of you disappears in thin air.

and then, a little lump under the covers starts to move.

and the three legged silver eyed cat comes crawling out, two new wounds on her side.

"what the fuck?" you ask, immedietly reaching forward to pet the cat in front of you. you don't consider that the cat is a woman-- it's your natural instinct-- you see a cat, you pet it.

but then the woman's back and your hand is in her hair and she's blushing all the way down to her tits which you can see because she's still naked.

"wha--"

"i'm sevika."

"hi, sevika." you giggle, slightly hysterical. sevika's blush gets even darker. "i'm--"

"i know." she cuts you off, then bites her lip in embarrassment and presses her head harder against your hand, like she's a cat. well, you suppose she kinda is. "i... sorry for stumbling into your life like this. i thought if i died as a cat i died in real life." sevika shrugs. "guess the whole nine lives thing is true, though."

"i don't--"

"i can leave, if you give me a pair of sweats or someth--"

"no!" you squeak. sevika smiles, and now you're embarrassed. "i-i mean... you're injured. you should stay until you're better..." sevika raises an eyebrow at you. "plus... you're kinda cute."

she grins. "as a cat or...?"

"fuck off." you giggle, crawling into bed beside her. "you've fucking... been watching me for a year! it's only fair i get to interrogate you, too, you creep."

"i-i'm not a creep!"

"you've seen me naked!"

"you didn't seem to mind at the time..." sevika pouts.

you can't believe how ridiculous this whole fucking situation is. sevika's blood drying into your mattress underneath the pair of you, but her skin is becoming more vibrant as the shimmer works through her system, flashes of pink sparkling in her silver eyes. she's practically purring as you scratch her scalp. you burst into laughter, and sevika grins up at you.

when you finally catch your breath, you shake your head and look down at the only sorta-stranger beneath you. "so, what are you... a werecat, or something?"

sevika groans before bursting into laughter with you.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@shimtarofstupidity @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @claude999 @nhaaauyen

[scruus]

afab childe crying just by looking at the bulge on his stomach as you thoroughly fuck him shsjshj

poor harbinger sobs when you pump his womb full of cum for the nth time of the night, and he can't help but watch as your fluid trails out of his cunt, down his thighs and down on the floor...

going crazy

I had to write an entire fic for this. Its too good.

YOU ALL ARE MAKING ME LOSE SLEEP ON THIS OH GOD. Minors istg DNI or ill bite your head off.

★̶̲ [ 𝐰𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐦𝐞 ]

✎ sub afab childe + dom amab reader notes: rough filthy sex; mirror sex; creampie; cum inflation(?); overstimulation; childe being a masochistic son of a bitch(hinted). THIS IS PLAIN FILTHY JUST GHHH STOP I CANT BE SO HORNY ANYMORE

Childe groans when he sees his gaping cunt take you in so well. His teary eyes are half lidded as you try to make him look in the mirror. Make him look at how your dick makes a bulge everytime you move in and out. “S-stop uughh”, he groans out.

You hook his legs apart, him seated on your dick, because his legs have barely the ability to do anything voluntarily. He feels so small in front of you. With the way you are gripping his face and spreading his gummy cum filled cunt apart, it makes him shudder.

“See baby, i think one more dick could easily fit inside you”, you whisper against his ears as you rock your hips again, making that cock of yours reach so deep he could never imagine it was possible. “If i had two dicks….imagine how pretty your belly would look?”, childe moans loudly at the thought, nails digging in your arms. You have made him absolutely pathetic.

You smack your hand against his clit making him jolt, a striking pain going up his pussy. He smiles deliriously, taking in that pain like a good painslut.

Pushing him down, you hold his waist tightly so that there is ease in sliding in him and fucking that cunt senselessly. Childe tries to look up with his dazed eyes and stares at the mirror in front of you both. He can see his back arched like a cat, and your devilish grin while you grope his bruised ass.

Childe screams as you start pounding into him again, the cum acting as a lube and making it easier for your huge dick to move in and out. You groan feeling his cushy fat lips enveloping your dick and his warm cum filled insides pulsing around it. Its the best feeling in the word.

“Oough-n-no s’rough nghh”, he claws on the bedsheets which were stained with his tears and cum. His sobs only further fuelling your desire while you trail kisses down his spine.

His pussy hurts so bad, his clit is all puffy and numb, evident of your abuse on it, yet he still cant be fulfilled. He wants it to hurt like hell. He wants his womb to be filled to the brink, wants you to impregnate him so that all your attention is on him.

Then he wouldn’t need to act like a brat or an attention whore every single minute of the day.

You take both of his arms and pin it to his back, trying to drill into him using them as a leverage. You moan out seeing how his red, scarred ass shakes up and down everytime you slap your hips against his like a feral animal.

Taking your dick all out and then plunging it all in in every thrust, he chokes out whorish cries. You were splitting him open mercilessly and he could just moan and take your entire cock in like a fucking cocksleeve.

Guttural moans and whimpers can be heard from childe as his entire body is being treated like a ragdoll. “Ah fuck my pretty cumslut is being so good today”, you laugh out knowing he loves being called that.

His wrist is now bruising because of your tight grip on them, just like his hips and the rest of his body. Your tip is kissing his womb, balls slapping against his wet sopping cunt.

Pearls of slick dripping down his thighs, as you see your cock disappear in him and appear again. His hips are trembling with shock, trying to keep up with your rough pace. Ah fuck he is so lewd, you think.

He can hardly keep conscious. You have cum so many times in him, he could barely keep it all inside. Poor pup doesn’t want even a bit of your cum to leak out, he wants to savor it all in. But not to worry, you dont plan on stopping soon anytime.

“Fuck, you’re squeezing down on me again, ugh am gonna cum”, you rasp out, your hips picking up pace as you pounded into him with such intensity, childe could see stars in his eyes.

“Ooughh fuckfuckfuckfuck ugh cu-cummin”, his eyes rolling in his skull and his whorish moans getting desperately loud. He could only blabber nonsensically as his voice was nothing but squeaks. And just like that, you came with him.

Drops of water spraying all over the bedsheet while the trembling ginger spasms in your arms, his toes curling and his mouth open in a silent scream. He had squirted once again tonight.

You shut your eyes, his pussy creaming around your cock as his cunt is sucking you further in, and you groan out.

You let go of his arms and his weak body plops on the bed. Taking your dick out you saw the gooey filthy cum drip out of his hole in massive amounts, he was really filled to the brim. He whined on feeling the loss of your cock and the warm cum oozing out.

Your fingers spreading apart his lips and see the sticky cum coating his pretty pink folds and the inside of his gaping hole. You were quite big, after all.

Placing a kiss on his shuddering ass cheeks, you softly kneaded it. “Don’t worry baby, ill take care of you after i wreck you”.

Flipping him on his back, you grabbed his hips and entered inside him in a single thrust, choking out a hoarse moan from childe. “But am not done wrecking you yet”, you huff before pounding into him again as childe continues to scream your name.

Looks like you both have to take the next day off.

[fraugwinska]

THIS JUST POPPED IN MY HEAD AND I NEEDED TO SHARE!!!! Alastor in a established relationship with reader who has hair like Rapunzel (maybe not EXACTLY but it definitely touches the floor) it’s always getting stepped on by busy feet or chewed on by a particular piggy to the point where she practically carrying it everywhere she goes. One day Al asks why wont she just cut it she tells him it signifies the days they were apart/days she waited for his return as human (I think his death was something she could never cope with :(( ) but now they are together again he cuts it for her and helps her let go of that pain! He anit going nowhere now. He promises. <333

Hello my lovely! I finally came around to write this - and I think it was good to wait to be in the right headspace. It's not a fullblown oneshot, but I think this SlutSnack (Or... FluffSnack?) will be just as good! No warnings this time - just wonderful, sweet fluff for y'all! (@minkdelovely I'm looking at you!)

Let down your Hair

"No, please, come on, Nuggie, that doesn't taste good, let go now, come on..."

You tried and tried, but Angel's pet pig wasn't budging, a thick strand of your hair in its mouth, jaw locked and squeal angry. You pulled on the hair, while Husk, having pity with you, held onto the ferocious piglet as you shouted for Angel once more.

"Oh darling, again?" A familiar cane with a microphone sitting on top of it bonked the piggy on its head, and in a shocked squeak it let you finally free. You tried not to feel too bad for the thing as you scrambled your masses of hair together in your arms and Alastor, your savior, tutted at the little pink ball in Husks hands, his eyes glowing dangerously.

"That's the third time this week. Maybe your owner should keep a better eye on you, or I might be in the mood for pork chops."

"Don't 'ya dare, Creepy McCreeperston!" Angel came running, pulling Fat Nuggets out of Husk’s grip and cradled it softly. The cat demon, relieved of being released from the burden of caring, returned quickly to the bar, determined to get out of whatever the hell kind of fight would certainly follow.

"Oh, I do dare if this thing keeps on guzzling her hair, you frivolous..."

"He's a baby, he doesn't know better 'ya cocky..."

"Stop it.", you said decidedly, getting nervous when Alastors antlers began to crack and grow. "It's okay, he didn't... chew it off, Alastor. But Angel, I'd really appreciate it if you would keep a closer eye on him, okay?"

Alastor took a deep breath, returning to his normal form with a sigh and joined your side, gathering the rest of your long hair with an annoyed frown.

Angel huffed, shrugging his shoulders. "Fine." He turned around, tickling the pigs belly as he took the stairs to his room and mumbled loudly "...Don't know why she has to have fucking hair like goddamn Rapunzel and make this shit my problem."

"Because," Alastor said loudly after him, his hair dangerously spiking and static crackling, "It should be her own decision whether to cut her hair or not, not this... pest’s eating habit, mhh?"

"Alastor...", you said softly, touched by his fierce protective gesture, "Would you come to my room and help me sort this mess out? I think I have some pretty nasty knots in there now." You put a hand on his arm, and his eyes snapped to you. He smirked, not really calming, and offered his arm, holding your masses of locks safely on the other one.

"Of course... anything for you, dear!"

The first twenty minutes were filled with nothing but Alastors soothing, soft jazz he loved to play when you were alone and the quiet scraping of your hairbrush, detangling your overly long locks. He slowly calmed down from his agitated state, not wanting to show it too obviously but fondly twirling your smoothed down hair through his fingers. You enjoyed these quiet times together with him - normally he'd talk a lot, that came with the job of being the radio demon, and you'd listen attentively, not having the heart to miss a single word that came out of his mouth.

But sometimes silence was even more lovely, because it showed you that he didn't feel the need to entertain, to pretend and to put on a show, but just... be. With you. And maybe he could sense that it made you happy. Or he knew exactly how relaxing these moments could be. Whatever the case, your mind started to wander, reveling in the soft tugs of the brush and the shivers running down your spine when his claws finally reached your scalp.

"Why don't you cut it?" Alastor asked quietly and you jolted from your musing, humming and turning your head slightly. "Hm?" Alastor scratched carefully behind your ears, waiting for the tension to disappear from your muscles before he continued brushing. "Why haven't you cut your hair yet? It must be quite a bother to maintain."

You turned your head and blinked at him. The dreaded question... you knew it had to come one day. If you were honest, you'd even suspected him to ask it sooner. The answer was easy... but you hesitated to let him know. Alastor loved details, craved them in fact - but it was sentimental, silly even, and you couldn't bear the thought of him thinking less of you. Now the time had come - he had asked you directly, and you resented lying to him even more than looking foolish to him.

"Do you remember the day at the fair? The one where you took me on that boat ride?"

Alastor hummed happily, braiding the front of your hair, his claws delicately folding section over section. "Yes, of course. What a fine evening that was! You looked gorgeous as ever, I think you wore the red summer dress I gifted you for your birthday that year. You normally wore your hair straight, but it was beautifully laid in those finger waves that were all the rage then - right until here." His hand trailed down to caress the nape of your neck, making you bite your tongue on a sigh, and continued. "And I promised to you then on that boat that I'd return to you in a heartbeat, wherever you may wait or roam, no matter what, because..."

"...a lifetime with you could never be enough to satisfy me." you ended the sentence for him, a sad smile on your face."And yet it was the last day I saw you alive."

He stopped suddenly, the feeling of his claws being gone and your back growing cold made you flinch and turn, wondering whether you had ruined everything. Alastors eyes looked stormy and you swallowed, your hands absent-mindedly stroking a strand of hair that fell over your shoulder. 

"I've kept my hair like this for every time I imagined your return ever since you died. To signify those days I spent longing for you, mourning after I've seen the papers and..." You closed your eyes, refusing to fall back into those dark memories. The screams the nightmares brought into your nights, fueled by the horrific stories the papers wrote about him. The hollow words of family and friends and people who were merely interested by the gossip of his life and death. The morbid curiosity and the grins and giggles at his unceremonial end while you cursed them all for tainting his image. The undying anger and hurt, your stubborn love for a man who died so young and left you to grow old alone. "...Every inch of it is a testament that I've never stopped loving you. And that I've never stopped believing in those words you said to me that day." You opened your eyes again, looking at Alastors stricken face.

"I know it's foolish..." you said gently, watching how the realization struck Alastors eyes and softened them. He visibly forced his expression to stay in the signature smile of his, but you could sense the emotion in his voice.

"Don't belittle it. Your sentiments for me have always been... most precious to me. Even now. Perhaps especially now." You shuddered when his fingertips trailed up your arms and brushed away the tick of your hair, his mouth reaching for the delicate skin of your neck. "Heaven truly lost a perfect angel the moment you fell into hell, darling."

The tears you shed were softly kissed away by him. After you both calmed down enough from the overtake of emotions, something that had become so foreign for the radio demon, he gently sat you back down in front of your vanity mirror.

"My love... as much as it honors both you and me... keeping the weight of those past memories locked in your hair isn't necessary anymore. You have me now, and I have no intention to leave, not unless you wish me to. Let me relieve you from the burden of carrying it."

Alastor cut your hair, strand by strand while you told him about the decades of life lived without him. It felt like a liberation, to finally tell him how painful the years had been and how empty and incomplete you had felt. When you ended with telling him how relieved you were that the body you spawned in your afterlife wasn't the frail and withered one you left behind, but one that resembled your happier days, young and in love and optimistic, he had cut the masses of hair to the same length you had on that fateful day at the fair. Your head felt light and you stroked the short strands, a surprised and disbelieving laugh bursting out of you when you saw that girl again in the mirror.

Alastor smiled with deep satisfaction, carefully putting the scissors away before he pulled you into a close embrace from behind, meeting your gaze in the mirror and pressing a chaste, possessive kiss to the top of your head."Who needs a mere lifetime, darling, when you can have eternity?"

[whiskersz]

Husk and cuddly drunk reader who flip flops from happy giggly silly to oddly philosophical within seconds

+ Husk and Angel with reader who goes back and forth between being super giggly and silly when drunk to really serious and introspective

Hey you guys! Your requests are very similar, which is why I decided to give you some headcanons instead of a full fic, so I could kind of combine them if that makes sense. Hope this is okay!

Husk

I feel like Husk doesn’t love it when you’re drunk; it makes him worry that you’ll do careless things or say something out of pocket that will result in people getting frustrated with you, which he doesn’t appreciate as he is fairly protective of his loved ones.

But, if you’re simply a little giggly he won’t really mind, as long as you don’t get too drunk of course. What he doesn’t really expect is for you to switch from being silly to being serious, if not philosophical.

He nods as he pours drinks if you’re inside the Hotel rather than at a bar, he has a job as a bartender to do after all, but even though you’re obviously drunk and probably won’t remember any of this tomorrow he still feels bad just straight up ignoring you.

So he gives you a little bit of attention, asking you questions which you can or cannot really answer to... it really depends on when he asks, if you’re not really in the introspective mood you’ll just give him a giggle and call him a silly cat which makes him shake his head endearingly.

At the end of the night he drapes a wing across your back protectively and walks you to your room or to the Hotel, all while you’re blabbering about something that sounds so deep that even he can’t really makes sense of it.

He brings you some water once you’re in bed and, even if you can’t really understand him as you’re already falling asleep, he grumpily tells you that he loves you and that you can keep talking about whatever you were on about earlier tomorrow.

Angel Dust

Angel plays along a little more than Husk does; he will agree with you on whatever you’re saying, or even argue that your theories are wrong. He will also pinch your cheek affectionately when you get into a fit of laughter, but after all he knows you’re drunk so if you’re not within the safety of the Hotel he’ll try to keep an eye on you at all times.

He definitely tries to hold off on how much he drinks to be able to be in his right mind in case something happens to you.

Just like Husk he will drop everything to walk you back to your room and even keep you company while you’re falling asleep. He finds it very funny that once you get to his room – he decides to bring you there as it’s more spacious – you try to engage in a very deep conversation with Fat Nuggets. He admires the ‘exchange’ for a while, before reminding you that it’s time to get your silly ass to sleep.

He already has everything prepared in case the next morning you’re on a hangover, and he’s ready to keep you wrapped up in his arms if it comforts you to have him close to you.

He definitely teases you once you wake up though...remember when you said that one thing about the values you’ve learned in Hell, and then started laughing at yourself over it? You probably don’t, but he was sober enough to, and now he’s going to giggle over it whenever it comes to his mind!