#white cat x reader

[frickingnerd]

one day at a time

pairing: krysha pendleton / white cat x gn!reader

tags: wholesome fluff, established romantic relationship

whichever god was responsible for bringing you and krysha together, she was grateful to them every day of her life.

every morning when krysha woke up next to you, she was reminded of how lucky she was. seeing you peacefully sleep next to her, sometimes even cuddled up against her. she could always feel your warmth under the shared blanket and she cherished those moments. feeling your warmth meant you were still alive. she'd have another day with you by her side. and that was all she could ask for…

[tojisun]

imagine travelling for your job and coming home to simon (big and beautiful and mia-for-two-months simon) holding your cat up like one would carry a baby. they’re standing by the balcony door in your living room, watching the people who are walking by.

“uhm,” you begin, shocked and exhausted. “what…”

simon turns just enough to meet your eyes. “m’teaching sasha how to be observant. little girl didn’t even blink when i walked in.”

“you don’t have keys to my place.” you lick at your chapped lips. “you shouldn’t have keys to my place.”

“i know,” he grunts, adjusting his hold on her. sasha just plops her head on his chest again, her tail slowly swaying behind her and her big eyes slow blinking at you.

you give her your own slow blink and you wish you could pick her up from simon’s arms but—and here’s the issue—you still don’t understand why he is here. why is he back?

“did you break into my home?” you finally ask, quiet and anxious.

simon just sniffs, patting sasha’s rear, and looks away. sasha lets out a purr.

“simon—!?”

[p0lyn3sian]

Can you please do slashers x s/o who owns a cat who's getting chubbier? This is based on my cat ever since I made him try a different brand of cat food, he likes it too much that he eat more than 3 times a day 😓

Also idk it you take anons

- 😾 anon

OMGGG CHUBBY CATS ARE SUCH CUTIESS!! I've always wanted a cat, but living in houses/apartments that's rented sucks😔. Since most of the houses & apartments I moved in don't allow cats or dogs.. And yes I do take anons!

Slashers: Norman, Carrie, Sinclair brothers, Patrick, Chucky & Tiffany, Jason, OG Michael, Billy & Stu, Billy Lenz & Brahms, Thomas & Bubba, The Lost Boys, & Hannibal & Will!!

(I was about to put RZ Michael, but then I remembered he ate a dog, so he'll probably eat the cat too 😭.)

Slashers x S/O that owns a chubbier cat!

Norman:

Norman noticed that your cat got much bigger! He asked you if this was normal feeding him three times a day. You said that it was normal, but he has to lose some weight, because he's becoming too big for some stuff, like his bed, etc!

He loves your cat so much though! It doesn't matter if he's chubby or skinny! He also loves feeding your cat treats, so he got really big the past few days. Over all Norman loves your cat, and that he brings comfort to him too! Norman loves to cuddle with you and your cat during rainy days or really cold winter days!

Carrie:

Carrie has been feeding your cat too! So she noticed that your cat is getting fatter, which means he's eating well! Carrie loves him so much, because of his chubbiness and how your cat is just too cute for Carrie to resist!

Carrie has tried to not feed him too much, because cats can get really lazy if they're too fat and not being energetic enough. If Carrie doesn't feed your cat, your cat will be bugging both you and Carrie for food and treats, which makes Carrie tear up because she doesn't want to make your cat too fat and how he keeps pawing at Carrie's legs! Which you ended up letting Carrie feed him since you felt bad for both of them!

Sinclair Brothers: (Bo, Vincent, & Lester)

The Sinclair brothers were really surprised that your cat got chubbier! Bo thinks your cat needs to lose weight, Vincent thinks your cat is fine, and Lester thinks that your cat is a cuddly squishy pet!

Your cat is like a comforter for Vincent! Vincent has been petting him and feeding him, and your cat loves hanging out with Vincent because of his quietness. Your cat also loves hanging out with Lester because of his playfulness! Lester would squish your cat's chubby belly, his cheeks, anywhere where his body is chubby! Your cat thinks Bo is a scary man, because of his angry face he always has. But once your cat gets really comfortable with Bo, your cat will be bugging him for cuddles in no time!

Patrick:

Patrick thinks your cat needs to lose weight. Sometimes Patrick gets ticked off when your cat keeps on meowing for food, or for something else. Patrick doesn't like pets, because pets are always messy. Patrick's ego is sometimes ruined from how messy your cat leaves behind, whether it's from eating, drinking, or getting out of the cat litter..

You've told Patrick that he'll have to learn to love your cat! Patrick didn't believe you because he doesn't like your cat leaving behind messes. So, it took this up-tight man a few weeks to like your cat. Your cat would make him feel better by sitting on his lap while sleeping. Your cat would make Patrick laugh from you playing with him and his toys!

Chucky & Tiffany:

Chucky is not really a big fan of pets, but Tiffany is! Tiffany thinks your cat is so adorable, his purring is what makes Tiffany love him even more! Chucky thinks your cat is okay, just a few pats here and there but nothing much. Tiffany loves feeding your cat treats because of how he'll always head butt his bowl to her! Chucky would also feed him treats whenever you ask him if he can, and he'll also pet him after once you get his treats!

Sometimes you and Tiffany would see Chucky sleeping on the couch with your cat on his lap. Tiffany would coo at how adorable they both look, and she would definitely take a few pictures with you in it for memories! Chucky and Tiffany don't care if your cat is chubby, they both love to cuddle with him!

Jason:

Jason would always carry your cat around the cabin! Your cat loves being carried around by Jason or you, so he wouldn't have to walk around and just lay on you or Jason's arms! Your cat would always look for Jason, because he either wants to be carried around or just sleep on his lap while getting head rubs while going to sleep.

Jason loves to feed your cat while you are doing something or you're at work! Jason feels really bad when he feeds your cat too much, because he thinks that you're going to be angry at him. Bless his big heart, because you would never be mad at him! You said to Jason that it was okay to feed him more, but you'll have to try other ways to get your cat to be a little more energetic!

OG Michael:

Michael thought your cat was pregnant. You told Michael that your cat is a male, and your cat tends to eat more because of his favorite food you always bring. Sometimes your cat would be on Michael's lap and just sleep, while Michael is stiff as a board so that he doesn't try moving and wake up your cat.

Whenever Michael gets back from his killings, he'll see that your cat is by the window waiting for him! Michael has been giving your cat head pats and rubs, but not a lot of cuddles since he's not really a cuddly person. Which is fine since your cat likes getting pats and rubs from Michael and cuddles from you!

Billy & Stu:

Billy is not really a cat lover, because he thinks all cats scratch you whenever they want. But your cat is different from other cats, and that is your cat is a lazy house cat. Billy likes to look at what your cat likes to do, so mostly what Billy has seen that your cat has done is just sleeping and eating!

Stu loves petting your cat! Stu will squish your cat's cheeks, tummy, and probably his arms too! Stu would definitely give your cat so many treats because of how cute he is, and he would also try and cuddle with your cat while going to sleep! While you are gone doing something or at work, Billy and Stu would be calling you so many times saying that your cat's favorite food is all gone! Billy and Stu will also try to get your cat moving around the house since he's been getting a little fatter!

Billy Lenz & Brahms:

Now there's two cats in the house to feed! Billy's cat and your cat! Billy's cat is a female and her name is Penny! Penny loves to cuddle by him when she's cold or she just wants to sleep! Billy loves to squish your cat and cuddle with him and his cat!

Brahms thinks that you'll have more mouths to feed! Brahms thought your cat is like Billy's cat, because she likes to scratch Brahms' arms, legs, or literally anywhere. But Brahms examined your cat for a little bit. Brahms saw how your cat is always sleeping in the sunlight or either sleeping on your lap or Billy's! So Brahms decided to carry your cat just like Billy's cat, and your cat seemed to just let Brahms hold him! So Brahms has a new favorite cat to cuddle with!

Thomas & Bubba:

Thomas and Bubba have never had pets, so seeing a really chubby cat makes them interested in what he does! Thomas and Bubba would always see your cat sleeping on mama Luda's rocking chair or either somewhere in the house where there's sunlight! These two would also see your cat getting head pats and rubs from uncle Monty or Drayton! Nubbins and Chop-top would do weird stuff to the cat that would eventually leave scratches on their faces for bothering your cat..

Mama Luda would carry your cat around and feed him when she has time! Hoyt just tells you that your cat needs to lose weight.. Thomas and Bubba would be able to help you and your cat! After these two saw what your cat likes to do, they started caring for him too! Thomas would feed him before washing his hands, because he's been chopping up meat for the family in the basement! Bubba would be playing with him and his chicken, Mr. Waddles! Waddles tend to poke your cat with his peak and which your cat just sleeps through it. Bubba would also put on dresses that he made for Waddles and your cat, and play dress up!

The Lost Boys: (David, Dwayne, Paul, & Marko)

All four of them think your cat is going to scratch them! David was the first to examine if he's going to scratch, so he poked your cat to see if he was going to react. Your cat was asleep so of course not he wouldn't even react! You found all of them poking your cat, which made you pissed because clearly they don't see that your cat is trying to sleep!

You told them after telling them to stop poking your cat, that your cat is a lazy house cat so he's not really a verocious cat. But your cat will scratch them if they keep on poking him like that. So seeing that the boys understand why your cat didn't react, they all started petting and rubbing him! They all took turns on who gets to feed and who gets to pet and cuddle with your cat! They also said whoever feeds your cat gets to cuddle with you too!

Hannibal & Will:

When you first showed them your chubby cat, Hannibal and Will asked you questions if it was normal for your cat to look like that. You replied yes, but since your cat doesn't like walking, he's just a lazy house cat! Hannibal has been around dogs so he knows a lot of things about them. Same with Will, his special animals are his 7 dogs! Will's 7 dogs love to sniff around your cat and just examine him.

Will's dogs boop their noses at your cat, seeing that your cat is still sleeping, they'll leave your cat alone until he wakes up! Once your cat wakes up Will's dogs will be licking, sniffing, and booping their noses at your cat! Hannibal would pet your cat while he's in his recliner reading a book! Will would definitely sleep with you, your cat, Hannibal, and his dogs in one big bed! Over all, all of them love your cat and you!

[rollinouttahere-writes]

What if little Lucky got lost and ran into either Buggy or Smoker. Little Lucky is scared because they lost the strawhats.

Little Lucky thought they were following one of the Strawhats but was unknowingly following someone else, which happened to be either Smoker or Buggy.

(Ever had those moments as a little kid when you thought you were following your mother, but you were just following some random adult?)

And Buggy or Smoker is like, "Who's baby/kid is this?" Little Lucky looks like they're about to cry, then Buggy or Smoker panics says something like, "Wait! I'll help you find your parents!".

Either Buggy or Smoker take it upon themselves to find who is responsible for this child (little Lucky). Buggy or Smoker go up to random people saying, "Is this your kid?". By the time they find who is responsible for little Lucky (Strawhats) , they end up bonding with little Lucky and become attached.

Oh I did that once. Ran up to and hugged a woman that looked identical to my mom from behind. I was so mortified that I still remember this clearly like 20 years later.

Anyways

Usually I skip non-canon anime only stuff to avoid confusion, but I have included an anime only character in this one because it was too funny to leave him out.

Not What It Looks Like

Yandere Smoker x Child Reader

2.9k words

Once again, Smoker found himself staring down a pirate, though the pirate in question hadn’t noticed him yet. He didn’t even need to double check with a poster to confirm who this one was. Buggy the Clown was a very distinct looking individual.

Smoker took advantage of the fact that he was distracted to get closer and overhear the conversation he was having. Buggy was crouched down and talking to a small child. A little girl that couldn’t be more than five, if that. You looked distraught and confused.

“W-What do you mean? My mom isn’t here,” you sniffled loudly and scrubbed at your face.

“She’s gotta be, come on just think. She’s about this tall, looks just like you but with some bandages on her head,” Buggy pleaded with you, grasping onto your arms and looking desperate.

You flinched away, and Smoker decided it was his time to intervene. Using his devil fruit, he surrounded the clown with plumes of smoke to trap him. Buggy let out a screech upon finally noticing him and promptly disassembled his body to slip away. Which he was able to do successfully, much to Smoker’s chagrin.

Giving chase should be his number one priority, but his attention was drawn to the teary eyed girl in front of him. There were visible tear tracks going down your face, and your mouth was agape. Made sense, he supposes. This was probably your first time witnessing a devil fruit power. 

Crouching down to be closer to your height, he attempts to comfort you, “You alright kid? Did that pirate hurt you?”

The question snapped you out of your daze. You rubbed at your face and shook your head, “I’m okay. He didn’t hurt me, he was just asking a bunch of weird questions.”

“Like what?” He had to admit that he couldn’t even imagine what a pirate could possibly hope to learn from someone as young as you.

“He kept asking about my mom, but the questions didn’t make any sense. I think he was lying about knowing her,” you mumbled.

“Where is your mom, is she nearby?”

You became shifty at the question and nervously fidgeted your hands. It took a few seconds of anxiously looking around for you to come up with an answer, “Um… She isn’t here. She’s… gone?”

That was a strange way to answer the question, you didn’t seem to know how to answer it. Smoker really didn’t like that, and some alarm bells started going off in his head. He sighed when he saw you attempt to wipe off your face again. Digging around in one of his pockets, he pulled out a handkerchief and used it to properly clean you off. Fortunately, you let him do so without a fight and seemed to have calmed down slightly.

Given how long he’s been living here, he was able to guess that you weren’t local. Probably with some people passing through, but who? Might as well ask, “Who are you here with, kid?”

“My friends,” you answered simply.

He quirked a brow at that, “Are these friends your age?” 

You shook your head, “No, they’re all grown ups.”

Your story was getting weird, so he pressed further, “Are any of them your family?”

“No.” Your face pinched, and again you looked unsure of your answer, “Well, Nami told me to call her “big sis”, so I guess she is?”

So you’re traveling with friends that are all much older than you, your mom is “gone?”, and one of these friends is telling you to call her “big sis”. Something is definitely going on here, and he doesn’t like it at all. Could this get any weirder? He asks you how long you’ve known these friends of yours.

“Since yesterday.”

Oh. It could get weirder. This was starting to sound like a human trafficking case to him, and he couldn’t let that go under his watch. Looks like he would have to put his pirate hunting on hold for the time being.

He held out his hand to you, “I’m Captain Smoker, what’s your name?”

You hesitated for a moment before gently taking his gloved hand in both of yours, “My name’s Lucky. I’m not a captain or anything, though.”

“How about I help you find your friends again?” He needed to meet them for himself, just to make sure you aren’t in the middle of being trafficked. 

You anxiously squeezed his hand and looked nervous, “I dunno… I’m not supposed to go with strangers. Nami is already gonna be mad at me for walking away and getting lost.” Your lip trembled and you looked like you were about to start crying again.

“Do you want ice cream? I’ll buy you some if you let me help you,” he internally cringed at this. He shouldn’t be encouraging you to take bribes from strangers, but he needs you to cooperate with him for your safety.

Instantly, your eyes lit up at the prospect of getting a treat, “Really?!”

Looks like he’s got you on his side now. That was easy. He smiled at you and ruffled your hair before returning to his full height, “Yes, really. Come on, kid. We’ll get ice cream and then find your friends.” And possibly arrest them, but that’s neither here nor there.

You still had a hold on his hand, but now with only one of yours as you walked alongside him, visibly excited about ice cream. At least he was able to defuse the situation and avoid having you cry again.

There was an ice cream shop not far from here, so it didn’t take long to get there. You were bouncing up and down in place and chanting about ice cream while waiting for your turn. Some older ladies seated at a table nearby were cooing at the sight. Smoker overheard one of them calling this a ‘daddy-daughter date’. He shot them a sideways glance, but didn’t deem it worth it to correct them.

As soon as you’d gotten your ice cream, you thanked Smoker and happily started eating it, seemingly forgetting all about being separated from your friends. He supposes he’ll have to remind you about it.

“Where was the last place you saw Nami, kid?”

You perked up, then went into thought for a moment while licking your treat. You hummed, “I think we were at a clothes store? I don’t remember which one, I wasn’t paying attention.”

That really didn’t narrow it down at all. There were tons of clothing stores in Loguetown. “Do you remember where the store was?” He asked, desperate to get any other details.

“I dunno, I think it was close to the docks,” you shrugged. 

Alright, that still didn’t help much, but it looks like that’s all he’s going to be getting out of you in regards to that. Asking about Nami would probably get him farther, “What does Nami look like?”

While you rambled out a description of her, he was scanning the crowd. No one in his line of sight matched what you were telling him, but that wasn’t particularly shocking. This is a big town, he was unlikely to track a single person down that quickly. At least her orange hair would stick out to him if they did cross paths.

“Hey mister, how come there’s a big stain on your pants?” You asked from slightly behind him. You’d relinquished holding hands with him in favor of your ice cream, leading to you falling a little behind.

Stain? Oh, wait. That’s right, a kid ran into him with her own cone earlier, he’d already forgotten about it. He waved off your inquiry, “My pants ate someone’s ice cream, don’t worry about it.”

You took a decisive step away from him, protectively holding your cone, “Your pants aren’t going to eat mine, too, are they?” You were staring at his pants suspiciously, as if they were about to come after you if you didn’t keep an eye on them.

A brief, quiet chuckle escaped him, “They might if you aren’t paying attention and run into me.” This made you take another step back. Okay, maybe that wasn’t the best thing to say if he didn’t want you getting separated from him.

“How about you sit on my shoulders? That way you can look for your friends and my pants won’t be able to reach your ice cream.”

After a moment of weighing your options, you agree and allow him to place you on his shoulders. He’s pretty sure that you’re far too focused on your treat to really help him look for your friends, but now they will be able to see you. Admittedly, this came with the risk of them noticing him too and turning tail to run. While he would prefer to arrest them, at least you would be spared from whatever fate they had in mind for you.

Strolling around the docks would likely be the best course of action. At least one of them could be on the ship, and you ought to be able to point out which one is theirs. Smoker took a less traveled side road to get there. It was the fastest way, plus it would be nice to get a break from how crowded the other streets were. Currently, you two are the only ones here.

“I. Cannot. Believe you.”

Smoker came to an abrupt halt. He knew that voice well, though he could fathom why he would be saying such a thing to him.

“We’ve known each other for years, how have you never told me?” His naturally gruff voice, thick with a southern drawl, plainly revealed how betrayed he felt. It was still unclear as to why.

“What are you going on about, Masterson?” Smoker turned to the side, eyes landing on the local bounty hunter, Daddy the Father. Though Smoker much preferred his actual name to such a ridiculous moniker. Masterson had just exited a candy store. Several shopping bags were on one arm, while the opposing hand was holding his daughter’s. Her blonde curls bounced as she looked back and forth between them, seemingly also confused by the interaction.

“How have you never told me about your daughter?! She looks like she’s about Carol’s age, they could’ve been friends this whole time!” 

Smoker stiffened, this was the worst possible misunderstanding that could have happened today. “No. No, no, no. This isn’t-”

“We’re friends aren’t we? How could you do this to me?” Masterson put a hand on his hip, the shopping bags loudly crinkling against each other, and glowered at Smoker accusingly.

His gloved hand pinched the bridge of his nose, “We are colleagues, Masterson. I haven’t d-”

“Quit bein’ so formal, you can just call me Daddy,” Masterson, dead set on not letting Smoker get a word in, waved his hand dismissively. 

“Absolutely not.” Smoker keeps talking even when Masterson tries to cut him off again, “This is not my daughter, she’s just a lost child that I’m helping. That’s it.”

Masterson huffed, “You don’t need to lie to me, the jig is up. You’re gonna try tellin’ me that you buy ice cream for and carry around every lost kid you find? Is that your story?”

Carol gasped, “Oh! Can we get some ice cream too, daddy?”

The once rough voice completely transformed and took on a much lighter and gentler tone, “Of course, pumpkin! Just as soon as we’re done talking.” His voice went right back to normal when he faced Smoker again, “I mean, really? You’ve kept this from me for- How old are you, sweetie?” The voice changed again. It was bizarre hearing it switch up so rapidly.

“I’m four,” you answered plainly, apparently not caring at all about all the previous talk of Smoker being accused of being your father. 

“You’ve kept this from me for four years?!”

“I just met her today! She isn’t my kid!” He felt you get jostled a bit from his outburst. It probably wouldn’t be great for him if you dropped an ice cream cone on his head because he startled you. Smoker took a deep breath before gently grabbing you off his shoulders and setting you on the ground. You looked up at him briefly, but your attention was stolen away by Masterson.

The man had crouched down to be more on your level, “Is that your daddy?” You hadn’t even answered yet, but he was already smirking, no doubt thinking he was about to win this argument.

“No,” just like that, you wiped the smug look off his face. You hummed in thought while licking at your treat, “I don’t think I have one anymore.” You sounded disconcertingly nonchalant about this revelation. Now you’ve confirmed that neither of your parents are in the picture.

Masterson’s eyes softened and a frown tugged at the corners of his lips. Then, like a light went off, he looked up at Smoker with his eyebrows raised while gesturing towards you.

“What are you- No. I know what you’re getting at, and no,” he was not about to entertain this insane idea for even a second.

“But the poor thing doesn’t have a daddy, have a heart!”

“I can’t just adopt every kid without a family that I come across,” he can’t believe he’s even having this conversation right now, all because Masterson got such an absurd idea into his head. He has far more important matters to attend to, namely figuring out what is going on with your whole family situation and your “friends”.

“Well maybe not all of them, but why not this one? She’s already grown on you at least a little bit if you’re buying her ice cream,” the man was borderline pleading with him at this point. It was unfathomable as to why he was so hung up on this idea, but Smoker frankly could not be bothered to care enough to get to the bottom of it.

“You’re talking about this like she’s a stray dog I found on the street.” Smoker ran a hand down his face and sighed before sparing you a sideways glance. Mercifully, you didn’t appear all that bothered by the odd exchange going on between them. He spoke in a lower tone in hopes of keeping it that way, “Besides, there’s… more going on here.”

A colder, hardened edge flashed in Masterson’s eyes, he definitely got the hint. He patted Carol on the back and nudged her towards you, “Why don’t you get to know your new friend, daddy has to talk business for a minute.”

The little girl didn’t need to be told twice, and quickly scurried over to you and started introducing herself. 

Smoker and Masterson put some distance between themselves and the children. Still close enough to keep an eye on you two, but far enough to have a chance to talk without being overheard.

Masterson pulled out a pack of cigarettes, shaking one out onto his hand, “What’s going on?”

“Trafficking from the looks of it. Her parents are absent, but her answers have been unusual regarding them.” Smoker decided to swap out his cigars for a couple of new ones now that he had his hands free again. “What really bothers me is that she’s here with “friends” that are all adults that she met yesterday.”

Masterson exhaled a puff of smoke, and shook his head, “Sounds about right. Saw a lot of that sort of thing back when I was still a traveling bounty hunter. They tell kids these fantastical stories to get them to come with them willingly so it’s easier to smuggle them. That girl probably thinks she’s going to a new family, or something of the like.” He glanced over to where you and Carol were with pity in his eyes, “You know who you're looking for yet?”

“I’ve got a description for one of them. A redheaded woman with a tattoo on her shoulder named Nami, but I haven’t encountered her yet. I was going to take her to the docks so she could point out their ship to me.”

The bounty hunter nodded, “Good idea, there could be more kids on board. You want help?”

“If you’re not too busy. An extra pair of eyes-”

“Oh! That’s one of my friends!” Your voice cut through the air in an excited squeal.

Both of them went on high alert instantly. Masterson’s hand hovered over his holstered gun and plumes of smoke began curling off of Smoker’s body as they both frantically surveyed their surroundings. No one else was here. Rather than running towards someone, you bounded over to a wall.

A wall with bounty posters plastered all over it. 

Oh, no.

Your empty hand excitedly slapped one poster in particular and you looked over your shoulder at Smoker with a smile on your face, “He’s one of my friends! It’s cool you got a picture of him!”

A bitter, vicious sensation seeped into Smoker’s heart as he glared at the poster. A young boy smiled back at him, not a care in the world to having his picture taken for a bounty poster. Monkey D. Luffy. Wanted dead or alive for a startling sum of 30,000,000 berry. 

Of course pirates were behind this. Everything was starting to come together and make more sense. Not that it changed much. He was still going to be arresting these friends of yours, just now he didn’t need to investigate them for a solid reason to do so. 

“Is he now? That’s good to know,” Smoker ground out while continuing to stare at the mocking grin. “Don’t worry, I’ll find him for you.”

And make sure the bastard rots in prison, but you didn’t need to know about that part.

[riaki]

santa claus and his treats | satoru gojo x f!reader pt.1 of christmas event! wc: 3.4k oops i went overboard | cw: petnames, literally j pure fluff ur both STUPID in love, he’s the cutest! happy birthday pretty boy 🧸

"'toru?" you called, voice filling the dimly lit room as you peeked your head in through the door. the curtains were drawn, the iridescent green tinsel dotted with soft yellow lights framing the doorway of your bedroom scratching your neck as you spotted the white-haired boy sitting on your shared bed, picking at something on his lower lip.

you took a moment to drink in the sight— his soft white hair that fell over dazzling sky-blue eyes, the color of the lake dotted with fragile crystalline snowflakes that melted into fresh spring streams that fed nature with new growth and fresh flower buds, a tangible warmth when his gaze fell on you and an easy smile stretched across his pink lips. a little too easy, you think. easy enough for you to miss the way he swipes a coffee brown crumb from his cheek; the smile has too much sugar and cream for you to buy it.

your eyes slowly drift from his charming grin to the rest of the room. there's a forest green tuft of leaves hanging from the ceiling on a thin golden string; you recognize the crimson red berries and waxed leaves with spots of pearl dotting as a bunch of mistletoe, hanging right over the mattress. clearly, he thought ahead.

you snuff the flush from your cheeks as he perks up at the sight of you, straightening his back. "hey, baby! you must be my present from santa this year," he laughs, holding his arms out, an invitation for you to crawl into his arms and curl up on his lap like two warm cats by the fireplace. you almost gave in— until you remembered why you were looking for him.

"you're getting coal this time, satoru." you said, huffing as you walked over to the mattress and put your hands on your hips, attempting to come off as intimidating in front of your boyfriend as you leaned over and stared down at him. he just giggled that sweet, boyish laughter of his, scooting closer and capturing you between two strong arms to tug you onto the bed with him. the sheets were soft, and they smelled like him as he pulled you onto his lap and cuddled you like a life-sized plushie, all warmth and soft comfort that he craved so much.

"aww, really? but it's my birthday today," he sighed loudly, shaking his head as he firmly planted his hands on either side of your head to prevent you from worming away and planting a loud smooch on the top of your hair, before laughing as you pulled away from his grasp and gave him a glare. “besides, you’re anything but a bad gift.” he smiles.

“don’t sweet talk me, ‘toru. you’ve been naughty this year.” he wiggles his eyebrows at that, and you shoot him a sharp glare which just earns you a light scoff, but there’s a smile mirrored on both of your lips.

(maybe they’ve met so many times in the past that they know how to copy the other flawlessly.)

"but you're already here, my love. lookin' all pretty like the angel on top of our tree." he hums, crossing his legs and holding his ankles as he rocks back and forth; the teddy bear he won you from the arcade on your first date is face planted into the pillows by his side, donning a festive red santa hat. the white fluffy pom pom looks like satoru's hair, and you stifle a laugh at the thought.

"how kind of you, satoru." and you mean it— he looks like his own christmas angel; snowy hair and pretty blue eyes clad in a loose black tee with cheap printed red and green christmas lights over his chest. he looks unfairly attractive with those gray sweatpants on, too. you wouldn't mind wrapping him up in yellow ribbon and presenting him to your parents this year as your holiday present from santa, and then having your own fun with him later. you suppose you must've been perfectly good to land him; so pretty and fun, bubbling laughter that speaks of his care in volumes. and he’s their soon-to-be son-in-law, after all. and he’s a golden catch.

but it’s time for this white betta to be put in his place; he’s gone snooping where he shouldn’t have— or rather, scavenging would be the more appropriate choice. and he’s about to be skinned for entering the lion(fish)'s den. your matching red-green plaid pajama pants won't save him this time.

"sorry, baby, but you can't talk yourself out of this one." you said firmly, scooting closer to him as you sat back on your knees and gave him a look as pointed and narrow as the icicles melting on the frosted awnings. to anyone else, you might look like a wet, angry cat— but to satoru, it was enough to strike fear straight into the center of his heart. his fight-or-flight response kicked in (it only ever did with you)— and it was as if you could see the change in his demeanor. his eyes voluntarily softened, lids drooping as a lazy smile drifted over his lips like fluffy white clouds over a pale sun on a winter's morning.

"aww, don't be like that. my princess looks so much prettier when she's happy," he coos, all milk and honey as he reaches out and catches your wrist, rubbing his thumb over your pulse beating beneath your soft skin as he brings it to his lips and kisses your knuckles. so he chooses to fight, and you almost fold— almost.

you twist your arm in his grasp, eliciting a whiny yelp of pain; getting him to let go of you as you quickly flick his forehead. even so, he lets you-- he never turns infinity on around you, even at the price of his own sanctity.

you sighed when he gave you a dramatic pout, sticking out his bottom lip as he hung his head low in defeat like a golden retriever being scolded by his owner, soft hair falling over his pretty blues. his hands come up to cradle his head, rubbing the spot where you'd knicked him. "don't play around, satoru. where are the cookies i baked last night?" you asked, reflecting his frown with a pointed glare. if looks could cut, he'd be a red christmas on the cloudlike sheets. you were tired of beating around the bush, especially when satoru had a knack for making it utterly exhausting. nevertheless, it went on.

"maybe santa came early," he quipped, giggling at his own joke. "you never know, huh? he's an unpredictable old geezer. likes his milk and cookies, or so i heard."

"didn't know santa claus had the six eyes." you deadpanned, crossing your arms over your chest and looking him square in the eyes. "and he shaved his beard off, apparently." he feigns hurt, holding a hand over his heart in mock anguish.

"i'm no thief! it hurts me to know you think of me so low, sweetheart." he sighs dramatically, shaking his head. outside, the snowy wind howls in agreement. "besides, it's my birthday. you're suffocating the spirit, honey." he drawls.

you just roll your eyes at that, crossing your arms and shifting to sit closer to him. you will your irritated expression to soften, and it's reflected in the way satoru immediately relaxes, shoulders sagging as the anxious look in his eyes vanishes like the wilting ghost of fall on a christmas eve, leaving behind the scent of bluebells and frost on the wind. he thinks you've forgiven him.

that's just what you need. for him to let his guard down so you can spring the trap on him. santa may be able to get away with his yearly trespassing, but satoru's entered the property of more than your heart this time, and it's time for his holiday retribution.

"give me your hand, satoru." you said softly, voice barely a breath above a whisper. he obliges almost immediately, scooting closer on the bed so that his knees graze against yours, and you hear him suck in a little breath at the contact as your hand finds his.

you take his palm in your own; his hands are considerably bigger than yours, but you still manage to run a thumb over the ridges of his knuckles, gently massaging the soft skin over weary bones. a sweet little noise leaves his breathless lips; it's almost like a purr, and when you glance up at him he's almost as red as the glittering velvet bulbs dangling from the primmed branches of your christmas tree. he looks away, a subtle pout weighing down on his lips as he coughs loudly, as if the amber sap of a pine tree has caught in his throat, scratchy like tree bark.

"what are you doing?" he whispers, voice rough and hoarse, like someone took a fireplace stoker and poked his throat. almost a protest.

but you can feel him melting into you, and soon enough, he’s sandwiched you between his warmth and the fluffy blankets, the scent of apples and cinnamon weaved between the strands of his soft white hair as they tickle your flushed skin. his lips are soft and pliant and warm against your own; he's all over you, hands finding your wrists to trace tender, wobbly circles over your thrumming pulse with his thumb. he's robbing your lungs of air, needy in the way he cages you between his lanky limbs, lock and key with his free hand threading through your hair. he can never get enough of you, and he throws his inhibitions to the frostbitten wind if they mean learning to resist you.

it's spread around you like ripples on the surface of a misty lake, and when he draws away to stare down at you, eyes blown wide with a certain shine in his eye that reminds you of glowing embers, jumping from the lively blossom of fire on the grated dark metal of a hearth, there's a cheeky lopsided grin on his glossy lips. his fingers are slender, pale and callused, a gentle flushed at the tips.

"there was a mistletoe," he says breathlessly, as if that'll excuse him. as if he needs an excuse to kiss you. you just laugh, reaching up to trace his jaw with a finger, and he shudders despite the heater inside your room. the bunch of green leaves and red berries hanging above you sways in agreement.

but you can't focus on the dreamy look on his face; that lazy smile that dances over his lips and illuminates his features like twinkling christmas lights catching on each edge of a carefully cut snowflake, the sky's jewels. every time he looks at you as if you've crafted each intricacy of his world; patched the colors together and taught the light to reflect, you feel as though there are bubbles in your throat, and you have to cough them away when they're accompanied by a familiar rush of heat to your face.

it's all overpowered. strongly, by the rich taste of cinnamon. rich, sweet, distinctly festive, mixed with brown sugar and cookie batter; flour on the matching aprons satoru bought for the two of you, except the 'he' on 'he cooks' has been messily crossed out and replaced with a scribble that says 'she', and vice versa. it's on his tongue, his lips, the little dips on the corner of his mouth that makes him look like a kitten every time he grins. it tastes like wearing matching christmas sweaters, sampling sweet treats fresh out of the oven and laughing cheerily in your little cozy kitchen of warmth when he burns his tongue, a sour look on his face that wrinkles his nosebridge.

but, most importantly, it tastes like condemnation.

you sit up, briefly (and painfully) knocking foreheads with him when he's too slow to mirror your actions, but the complaint that's ready to stain the air like chimney soot dies on his tongue when he sees the look on your face. you look the same as you did the first time you found out he'd forgotten to pick up megumi and tsumiki from school. in other words, pissed.

"hey, pretty girl. you should smile; you look less like an ogre when you do—" he hastily starts, laughing nervously as he runs his hands through his messy hair. you've noticed that whenever you neglect to toy with the silky soft strands when you're tangled with him, whether it be kissing, cuddling, or... something else, he'll do it afterward as if to emulate the feeling of your fingers in his hair, even if it 'screws it up'. apparently, his skyscraper ego is too fragile to ask for headscratches.

"just a minute, satoru." you cut him off through gritted teeth, lips that should be stretched in a wide smile pressed together in frustration. your eyes narrow as you straighten up, sitting back on your ankles. "you ate them, didn't you?" your fingers dig into his skin, pinching his cheek. if his skin wasn't already stained crimson with boyish excitement, it would be an angry red now. you give killer pinches; he knows firsthand.

which is why he should've thought ahead and listened to the angel on his shoulder when you were knocked out earlier, curled up in a fluffy blanket on the couch, snoozing away. what was he to do? the cookies you'd made were calling his name. and it was for his birthday, and they were made for him. so why couldn't he indulge?

this was why.

and you know you've pinned him with your accusation like a throwing dart on a cork board; the way his gaze bounces around the room and his smile turns a hint sheepish and a handful guilty speaks volumes enough before he can even protest. but he can feel your wrath like an entire mine's worth of coal in his stockings, so he quickly throws his hands up, shimmying away from your angry pinch. the sheets bunch beneath him.

"listen, sweets, i just thought that— well, i'm sorry, baby, they just looked so good. and i only ate a few! i swear." satoru says solemnly, getting on his knees and throwing himself before you. he knows you're unamused— sitting there, crosslegged, looking down at him as if he's some chewed up gum you found on the bottom of your shoe. he might as well be. blueberry flavored, maybe? or mint, he's fine with that too—

"so you did." you just sigh, flicking his hunched shoulders, before you go soft again, and he sees pink. you reach forward, fingers creeping beneath his chin to tilt his face up. his skin is soft and warm beneath your skin, thrumming with a life and heat the poor overworked radiator in your room could never measure up to. and when he does look up, his starstruck gaze meets your own; you look ethereal in the warm light, and he wonders why he hasn't put a ring on your finger or started a family with you yet. maybe that can be the last gift to top off the cake of your overflowing knitted stocking, hanging from the kitchen counter; a mahogany box with golden hinges who's shine pales in comparison to the diamond ring in the center of the velvet.

he tucks the idea into his mental notes and grins, a cheeky flash of teeth. "so you forgive me, right?"

wrong. he should know better than to push his luck. especially when it comes to you.

the hand beneath his chin creeps up his face to squeeze his cheeks together, forcing his lips to pucker like a fish out of water as he tries to escape to no avail. you glare down at him, all needles. not at all in the holiday spirit, if you ask him. his face is squishy as a pillow beneath your fingers, and a smile resurfaces on your lips after a long struggle to keep it submerged.

he opens his mouth, no doubt to wail like a newborn, and you quickly withdraw, knowing better than to continue your assault. "geez! okay, fine. sorry. i ate them, you grinch." he grumbles, rubbing his squished cheek as he pouts and looks away, shrinking in on himself. his shirt is bundled beneath his arms, slipping off one of his shoulders to expose a pleasant flush on his neck. "seriously! you're such a killjoy. there's no fun in waiting," he smiles mischievously, wiggling his toes and nudging you with his foot. the fabric of his fuzzy reindeer socks bumps against your thigh, and you make another face at the red pom poms on the crudely-knit rudolph face.

"apologize." you emphasize each syllable, letting them fall off your tongue. they jut into his side like blows to his ribs; he falls back onto the bed for extra dramatics, letting it squeak beneath his weight.

"oh, the horror! to think that i'd be reduced to such a state—"

"satoru."

"—that i, head of the gojo clan, the honored one—”

"satoru gojo."

"should be forced to bow to such pious customs at the foot of scrooge—"

"gojo!"

you reach over to threateningly pinch him again, and he rolls away, tossing a fuzzy pillow into the air and kicking it at you like he's playing some cursed form of tennis. you scowl, catching the cushion and tossing it back at him. it lands square on his face, and he whines, crying about how you've ruined his beautiful, youthfully full, gorgeous face; how is he ever going to pretend to be santa and let pretty girls sit on his lap now? —and that one earns him another pinch to his arm.

"okay, okay! i'm sorry, my love. you're not the grinch, or scrooge, and i shouldn'tve eaten the cookies." he sighs, excruciatingly slow as he inches towards you again, wary of but wanting your warmth all the same. it's too cold to be alone this morning, anyway.

"without me." you corrected, unable to wipe the light grin from your face, and you watch as his face lights up, like a kid seeing his dream christmas present in the window display of a bright shop, hidden behind frosted glass and cold air.

he sits up again, scooting close and opening his arms once more. this time, you oblige, throwing yourself onto him and wrapping your arms around his neck. now he’s the one with his back flush against the mattress, soft as a cloud of cotton candy. he laughs, and it rumbles through his chest when his hands find the back of your head and he tucks your head beneath his chin, cradling your neck.

"without—" punctuated with a kiss to the top of your head, "you." satoru finishes, and you can hear the grin in his voice, cheery as a christmas carole. his arms snake around your waist, squeezing lightly as one hand slips beneath the hem of your shirt to gently rub your back. his fingers against your skin feels like the touch of a butterfly, wings like stained glass.

"how about this, pretty? we can make more together." he suggests, resting his chin on top of your head. you're smushed into his chest, the printed material of his christmas light t-shirt scratching your face, and the only thing you can manage to breathe is the cheap cologne you bought him (you don't understand why he uses it when he could afford the best of his own), but suddenly you can't bring yourself to mind. so you nod, and he chuckles.

"d'ya still wanna do cinnamon?" he asks softly, slipping his free hand into your hair to play with the strands, holding you close and cozy in his embrace. the burning heat of friction between your numb hands or a roaring fireplace don't compare to the warmth he brings you, soft and sweet and painfully human. and you can't really make yourself feel upset at the pretty boy with snow-white hair holding you anymore.

"nah. let's do peanut butter chocolate chip." you hum, muffled, and he laughs, hearty and full, the kind that makes his entire body tremble a little. and you can feel it, so you tilt your head up to peer up at him. there's a stray pine needle in his hair; must've been from your hazardously decorated christmas tree. he looks down at you and smiles, brushing your hair from your eyes and leaning in to kiss your forehead. it’s like a crimson wax stamp sealing his love letter to you.

he cuddles you close, tufts of his soft hair tickling your face like a tacky christmas sweater. "sounds unhealthy. but whatever you want, baby. santa's gonna give you all you ask this year." and this time, he doesn't use the mistletoe as an excuse to brush his lips against yours when you move to pick the pine needle from his hair. he smells like vanilla, swirled like espresso with a hint of cinnamon.

he may have enjoyed his cookies and milk without you, but there's nowhere else he’d rather be— no one else he'd rather share the rest of his time with, be it baking, decorating, or lazy naps in each other’s arms. after all, half the jolliness of the holiday season comes from being with you.

fish analogies went crazy… happy bday gojo !!! my (riaki) stuff. don't repost and/or plagiarize !

[yasashii-leaf]

One day, Y/n woke up in a wheat field as a child, then when a young couple found her, y/n was brought back to the police station, then a younger version of her parents showed up at the police station in tears, apparently in this universe y/n disappeared for a few years. Y/n became aware of being in a version of the DC universe, thanks to a TV channel specifically for Gotham.

Y/n had always known how to be just a forgettable and insignificant person in the lives of a lot of people, the fact that her teachers and classmates frequently forgot her name or existence, at least Y/n knew about everything since most didn't notice her presence, they tended to be less on their guard, and even now her coworkers don't notice her presence.

When y/n decided to send her resume and cover letter to the Daily Prophet, Y/n didn't expect to get an interview, much less get hired. After two years working at the Daily Prophet, y/n had completely adjusted to her new life. Then Clark came along.

[cece693]

You're Not Crazy Pt.1 (The Mad Hatter x M! Reader)

I got an ask some time ago about writing for other Depp characters such as the Mad Hatter. I haven't seen the movies recently, so some things might not be canon, however, I do want to explore this fandom since it is relatively empty of fanfics :) I left it purposefully open-ended in case you guys want a 2nd part.

Summary: You believed your sister when she returned home and spoke of a land where magical and peculiar people roamed. You asked her to take you there, and there, you encounter the Mad Hatter.

tags: of age reader, your Alice's brother, older by a few years, you hadn't seen wonderland before, not following story or book timeline

You believed your sister from the moment she returned home, eyes wide and voice trembling with excitement. She spoke of a world hidden beyond the ordinary, a place where logic twisted into nonsense and peculiar beings roamed freely—a land called Wonderland. You listened, enraptured, as she described a realm of talking animals, living chess pieces, and the most unusual of tea parties. While others dismissed her tales as ramblings of a crazed girl with an overactive imagination, you knew better. You had always known better.

“I want to see it,” you told her one evening. “I want to go there, too.”

Your sister hesitated, her face clouding with concern. “It’s not a place for everyone,” she said softly. “It can be…overwhelming.” But you insisted. If she could brave Wonderland, then so could you. And so, with reluctance, she agreed.

The next day, you followed her through the forest behind your home, down winding paths that seemed to shift and change when you weren’t looking. Eventually, she stopped by a large oak tree, its roots sprawling like the fingers of some great, sleeping beast.

“This is where I fell through.” And before you could ask what she meant, she took your hand and jumped, pulling you into the hollow darkness beneath the tree.

The fall was long and winding, like tumbling through a kaleidoscope of colors and strange sounds. When you finally landed—rather unceremoniously—on a bed of soft grass, you found yourself surrounded by an impossible landscape. The sky was a deep lavender, the grass a brilliant shade of blue. Flowers whispered secrets as you passed, and a brook giggled like a child at play.

"Welcome to Wonderland." Your sister announced with a smile, her eyes alight with familiarity.

It was more magical and bizarre than you could have imagined. You wandered through towering mushroom fields and past chattering woodland creatures, your eyes darting in awe. But one tale from your sister’s stories captivated you most—the Mad Hatter and his eternal tea party.

You begged her to take you there, and she obliged, leading you down a winding path that seemed to twist back on itself like a living thing. She left you at the entrance to a clearing, insisting that the rest of this adventure would be yours alone.

“Just be careful with him.” she warned softly before disappearing back down the path. Confused by her words, you approached the clearing cautiously, the sound of clinking china and cheerful, nonsensical chatter growing louder with each step. And then you saw him—the Mad Hatter, sitting at the head of a long, crooked table filled with teapots, mismatched cups, and an array of pastries that defied description.

His hair was a wild mop of orange curls and his large green eyes glimmered with a feverish brightness. Beside him sat a hare who seemed to be caught in a perpetual state of alarm, and a sleepy mouse that napped in a teapot.

“More tea?” the Hatter exclaimed, lifting a cup in your direction before noticing you. “Ah, a new guest! How splendid, how rare!”

You hesitated, taking in his erratic movements and the almost manic excitement in his voice. He seemed to be all contradictions—both welcoming and wary, kind and somehow unsettling.

“I…I’ve heard a lot about you.” You said carefully, stepping closer.

“Have you, now?” The Hatter's eyes widened, and he leaned forward as if this was the most intriguing news he'd heard all day. “And what did you hear? That I’m mad as a hatter?”

You chuckled. “Well, yes. But also that you throw the best tea parties in Wonderland.”

This seemed to please him immensely. “Then you’ve heard correctly!” he declared, standing up with a flourish. “Do sit, do sit! There’s always room for one more at my table. Unless, of course, it’s Tuesday, and we’re already three cups deep in the riddle rounds. But it’s not Tuesday, is it?”

You shook your head, finding yourself smiling despite the oddity of it all. “No, it’s not Tuesday.”

“Wonderful! Sit, sit!” He patted a chair beside him, his smile so wide it was almost infectious. As you took your seat, he poured you a cup of tea without asking if you wanted one, dropping in a few sugar cubes for good measure. “Tell me, what brings you to my humble tea party? And don't say 'a rabbit,' because that would be terribly unoriginal.”

You explained how your sister had told you stories of this place and how you wanted to see it for yourself. The Hatter listened with an almost childlike fascination, nodding and “hmming” at all the appropriate moments.

“There’s something different about you.” he said thoughtfully after a while. “Most people who come here are either lost or looking for something they don’t understand. But you—oh, you’re not like the others, are you?”

You shrugged, unsure how to respond. “I just…wanted to see if it was real.”

The Hatter’s grin softened into something almost genuine. “And now that you’re here? What do you think?”

“I think it’s more than real,” you said. “It’s…alive.”

His eyes seemed to glow with approval. “I like you.” he declared suddenly. “You’re not afraid of madness. You might even be a bit mad yourself.”

You laughed, feeling a strange warmth spreading through your chest. For all his eccentricities, the Hatter made you feel like you belong in this topsy-turvy world. And you realized, with a start, that you liked it. You liked him.

As the days passed, you found yourself returning to the Hatter's tea party again and again. You never knew what to expect—sometimes, you’d spend hours debating the merits of invisible jam; other times, you’d sit in comfortable silence, simply enjoying the strangeness of each other’s company.

The Hatter, for his part, seemed equally drawn to you. He would light up whenever you appeared, his eyes twinkling with mischief and delight. There were moments when his wildness would soften, and you’d catch a glimpse of something deeper beneath the madness—something vulnerable and achingly sincere.

But as the weeks turned into months, a quiet conflict began to stir within you. Wonderland was a place where time didn’t matter, where rules were made to be broken, and madness was a way of life. And yet, the longer you stayed, the more you began to feel a strange pull—a yearning for the world you had left behind. Memories of home, of mornings filled with familiar scents and sunsets painting the sky in shades of gold, tugged at the edges of your mind. Then there was your sister who you dearly missed. You tried to ignore the pull, losing yourself in the Hatter's antics but the feeling persisted.

The Hatter noticed, of course. He was always watching you with those keen, almost too-bright eyes. One evening, as you sat together beneath the stars, he turned to you, his expression unusually serious.

“You’re thinking about it, aren’t you?” he asked quietly.

“Thinking about what?”

“Leaving.” he said, his voice edged with something fragile and raw. “Going back to your world. Abandoning me.”

His words cut deeper than you expected. “It’s not like that, Hatter. I just…I miss some things from home.”

“But you can’t have both.” he replied sharply. His hands trembled as he poured himself another cup of tea, spilling more than half of it onto the table. “You can’t live in two worlds at once. Sooner or later, you have to choose.”

You felt a pang of guilt twisting in your chest. “I don’t want to leave you. Not really.”

“Not really?” he repeated, his voice rising, eyes narrowing as he stared at you. “But ‘really’ enough to think about it. To dream of it.”

The words stung, and you felt a flare of frustration. “It’s not that simple, Hatter! You don’t understand—”

“I don’t understand?” His voice rose, and he stood abruptly, knocking over his chair. “Oh, I understand perfectly! You think you can dip in and out of Wonderland as you please, but this place changes you. It consumes you. And you think you can just walk away?”

“I don’t know what I want!” you shouted back, standing to face him. “I care about you, I do. But I can’t just—”

“Then go!” he interrupted, his face twisted in anger and heartbreak. “Leave if you must. But don’t come back. I can’t bear the thought of you dangling the possibility of forever only to snatch it away.”

“I’m sorry.” you whispered, unsure of what else to say. The Hatter’s face crumpled, and for the first time, you saw him for what he truly was—a broken soul clinging to the one bit of sanity that remained: you.

“Don’t be.” he murmured, turning away. “I’m just a madman, after all. And what would a madman know of love?”

As you stood there, watching him retreat into himself, you felt the weight of the decision pressing down on you like never before. Wonderland was a place of wonder, but it was also a place of madness. Could you stay here forever, leaving the world you knew behind in favor of Hatter's affections?

The answer wasn’t simple. It wasn’t clear. But as you watched the Hatter, his shoulders slumped and his hands trembling, you knew one thing: if you left, a part of you would always remain in Wonderland—lost among the teapots and riddles, forever searching for a madman’s love.

[lavendermin]

here's a wholesome jing nyan brainworm for you ; jing yuan is transformed into a cat and can only turn back to normal with true love's kiss.

meanwhile , a traveling merchant stumbles across this upset , but very adorable snow white cat and decides to take him in - much to the shock of the 5 cat cakes she adopted previously .

those cat cakes are : shader cat, sesame cake, rice dumpling , ice cake and trash cake.

jing yuan , now dubbed jing nyan has to compete with this rowdy quintet for attention and the possibility of getting his curse broken.

As someone with cats who also love looooves jing nyan art this made me die a little (/pos) crying and rolling on the floor bc this would be so so cute. And with the jing nyan official art having the cat being a big chunky cat ID SWOON. Little jing nyan shenanigans ensue 💗💗💗

[the-doctor-3000]

Hc: Tarrant Hightopp having a crush on you

Note: I might write a fanfiction story based on this hc.

You were Alice's older sister (aka the middle Kingsleigh daughter)

And you had visited Underland before too many times to count.

First time you did was by accident (*cough* falling into a rabbit hole *cough*) when you were ten.

At first, you were terrified.

You were all alone

In an unknown world

Without your parents

But eventually you found yourself in love with this strange world.

When you returned back to your world, you decided to visit it again.

This time it was during winter.

And so was in Underland- luckily you were wearing gloves and other winter garments that your father had brought you from overseas.

Underland, though, was much more beautiful even during that season.

A frozen wonderland.

As you walked around, admiring the place once again, you didn't notice a young boy around your age and you bumped into each other.

The boy was slender, had pale skin, curly red hair, green eyes, and there was something about him- something odd.

And you found that the most intriguing.

Due to the fact that it was cold and you were freezing, he took you to his home and his mother made you both some hot chocolate.

He then made you a funny hat which you loved even though his father was against the idea of making hats that weren't formal but he let it slide this once since you liked it.

Tarrant, the boy's name, introduced you to his friends and they were all very friendly with you.

When time came for you to go back, even if you didn't want to, they all looked rather saddened but you promised to return.

And you did.

As the years passed, you'd always go back to see them.

Underland was a far more enjoyable place to be and you also loved the company there.

You and Tarrant were best friends

But what made him falling for you was always taking part in his crazy ideas, accepting the weird side of him AND defending him whenever his father would reprimand him for not being serious.

For him at first it was a strange feeling.

Sometimes he would fall into silence so he could think what he could be feeling.

It was. . . odd of him to be quiet.

Whenever you appeared, a smile would spread all over his face and immediately lighten up and return to his old self. . .

. . . Kinda. . .

His cheeks would get a bit rosy when you'd compliment his work or asked him to dance with you (mostly the Futterwacken)

The others would notice this and while also they would try to get the two together, they would tease him.

Sometimes the Royal Knight, Ilosovic Stayne, would proceed to court you- causing Tarrant to become very jealous but he would be relieved every time you'd reject him.

Chessur would take notice of this behavior and often make some indirect comments about it when you'd be around causing Tarrant to hush him and decline all of these comments.

When the Jabberworcky arrived and you were lost and forced to return back to your home by the order of the Red Queen, his heart broke because he and many others thought you died.

He never got to tell you how he felt.

However, you return with your sister years later and his heart rekindled at the sight of you.

That crazy spark in his eyes came back because you were there.

[frickingnerd]

Ys IX Masterlist

Adol Christin / Crimson King

yandere adol christin - headcanons

Dogi

dogi breaking up with his s/o - headcanons

Aprilis

aprilis thinking she isn't good enough for you - headcanons

Krysha Pendleton / White Cat

one day at a time - drabble

Credo Aiblinger / Hawk

credo with a weak s/o - headcanons

Yufa Gamberg / Raging Bull

yufa with a dramatic s/o - headcanons

Anemona Rijndael / Doll

yandere anemona rijndael - headcanons

[bernardsgfs]

i need matt

[iblocevgum]

★ you and i , we can fly ♪ 🪞 ⠀͙ ྀ 🪐⠀۪.꒱࿐

[rollinouttahere-writes]

Can I get a, e, j, k and y for Smoker.

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

Smoker does not know how to be affectionate. Bless him, he is completely clueless. This frustrates him because he does want to be close and loving with his darling, he just genuinely has no idea how to approach the subject. For a long time, his most direct way of displaying his love for you is by following you around like a guard dog and making sure no one messes with or harms you.

Once he has made the leap and finally has his darling in his clutches, he starts to figure out how to approach affection and what he likes. He enjoys having you in the same room as him while he's working and eventually develops a fondness for having you in his lap. If you light his cigars for him, he'll short-circuit. Over time, he'll get in the habit of kissing you goodbye before he has to leave to do his job.

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

This man is the king of being stone-faced and closed off. Y'all could be together for years and you'll still feel like you know nothing about him. He isn't intentionally icing you out, this is just how he is.

Occasionally, he'll sit down and explain that he loves you more than anyone else and would do anything for you, but that will only happen if he believes that it will further his relationship with you.

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

He doesn't get jealous of your platonic relationships. With how busy he is most of the time, even as a yandere he can acknowledge that it's unreasonable for him to expect you to have zero relationships outside of himself. It would only become a problem if the friend or family member tried to convince you to not be with him which would be unlikely to happen since he is the most covert yandere in all of One Piece.

When it comes to romantic rivals, he's much less forgiving. Smoker is painfully aware of the fact that he isn't a very romantic man, and he's insecure about it. He worries that you're going to be swept off your feet by someone that actually knows how to woo you. In his mind, he can't risk having any competition, so he'll do anything to get rid of them. Arresting them is the easiest course of action, but he isn't afraid of beating or killing them if he gets desperate enough.

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

In all honesty, he seems completely normal. No one can tell that he's a yandere, not even his darling. He hides it perfectly. His naturally stoic demeanor masks his much more intense feelings, and he makes sure that no one sees his more extreme tendencies. He finds easily explainable reasons to be in your presence and cross paths with you until he's established enough of a connection to be able to openly seek you out without it seeming odd.

Once you're together, he doesn't change that much. He's just around you more often and will sometimes bring a small gift for you. If you're in private, he gets a little more affectionate. Like having you in his lap as previously mentioned, or simply sitting next to you with an arm draped over your shoulder while you're relaxing together.

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

This man will wait for years before making his move because he ideally wants you to never know about his yandere tendencies. He wants you to be with him because you genuinely love him, not because he forced you. The only scenario where he would force it is if he felt like he needed to for your safety, and even then he would be desperately trying to convince you that this is strictly for your well-being and has nothing to do with his own wants and desires.

[wreckedandpolemic]

https://x.com/scaryssincerity/status/1778157870875398655?s=46&t=R33U26AUVdWl12ICAAKbRw

white and gold matty when the kids force him to get a cat because alanis really wanted one and forced vera and fiona to do puppy dog eyes at matty but then he loves the cat more than they do

oh my goddd this is so fucking cute if you haven’t watched the video do yourself a favour your life Will be better for it!!

so i bet alanis is eight or nine when her best friend gets a cat, and once she goes over there to visit she will not rest until she gets one of her own!!! at first she comes to you, and you laugh to yourself. truthfully, you’ve wanted a pet for a while — it feels like the last thing you need for your little family to be complete, and you’re not a dog person. but you don’t think matty will go for it, and as it turns out, you’re right.

“absolutely fu-absolutely not. it’ll get hair everywhere and scratch up our furniture.”

“more than the kids already do?” you tease, and matty rolls his eyes.

and that, you think, is that. but you underestimated the abilities of three healy girls with their big, healy, brown eyes and the magical persuasive power that seems to be genetic. “please, dad?” alanis whines, shoulder to shoulder with fiona and vera, all wide-eyes and looking like butter wouldn’t melt. “i promise we’ll look after it. you won’t even know it’s here, promise!” matty caves after less than a week of pleading, always weak for his girls.

after a couple of weeks of searching, you adopt the final member of your family, a little grey kitten that alanis names ghost. you warn her seriously that ghost is her responsibility, and she takes it on resolutely. bossy little diva that she is, she declares to her sisters that ghost is my cat, and swaps her chores for ‘cat time.’ the first time you catch her doing it, you want to scold her, but matty’s shoulders are shaking too hard for it to have any effect.

“she’s a little entrepreneur, aren’t you, lani?” he laughs, ruffling her hair as fiona runs in from tidying alanis’ room, scoops up the cat and pelts off again.

even though matty grumbles for weeks, all fucking cat’s got white fur on my black suit, hasn’t it and i don’t understand why you all love it so much, s’not that special. at least a dog can do tricks, it’s not long before he warms up to her.

he starts to sit with her in his home office while he works, playing it off as a distraction from his boredom. god, you’re so annoying, he’ll mutter fondly, dangling a loose piece of string and laughing as she jumps up to try and catch it. stupid name, too. fucking ‘ghost,’ what was she think— she’s nine, she wasn’t thinking. should be called something cool, like the beatles. he gasps. you like that? beetle? yeah, okay. maybe you’re not so bad, beetle.

after that, he and the cat are inseparable, matty cradling her like she’s one of his babies. alanis marches into the living room and stomps on his foot, lifting ghosts into her arms and complaining, “you stole my cat, dad! been looking everywhere for her! you said you didn’t even like her!”

you watch the scene, laughing to yourself as alanis slopes off, resting your head in matty’s lap. “maybe she is too much like me,” he mutters, shaking his head in disbelief as you chuckle.

“aw, you’ll get the cat back later,” you say, pouting teasingly up at him. “‘m better than a cat, anyway.”

“you certainly are,” he grins.

so, long story short, nothing is stronger than the bond between a grumpy, middle-aged father and the cat he swore he didn’t want. he still refuses to call her anything but beetle, though.

[jays-bookmarks]

Stained Sheets (Scaramouche/Wanderer x gn!reader)

The Wanderer brainrot is real. Scarameow in the Cat House is coming soon I promise but in the meantime take this lil oneshot I wrote as a reward for finishing finals :3

Summary: You forgot your period was on the way and wake up to a mess in your sheets. Your roommate helps you with the laundry. (I wrote this with my own traveler & sereniteapot in mind but the details are vague enough that it can be read as anyone & any house lol. Could even be modern au) Words: 1092 Warnings: casual mention of blood & periods, reader describes their period as relatively mild, reader has pets (2 dogs + 1 cat), Wanderer is referred to as "your roommate"/"your friend"

You sighed as you took the last step down the stairs, shifting the bundle of fabric in your arms to keep it from dragging on the floor. Your roommate was seated on the couch, flipping through a book that was clearly not keeping his attention. He glanced at you as you passed by.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Washing my sheets.”

“Didn’t you just do that yesterday?”

“I know, which is why I’m so upset!” you threw your head back dramatically before looking back at your friend with a tired smile. “Plus, blood is like the most annoying stain to remove and there's just so much of it.”

“What?” At the mention of blood, your roommate’s eyes widened and he jumped out of his seat, closing the distance between you in a few strides and grabbing you by the arms. “Why didn’t you call me?”

You stared at him, stunned at his sudden reaction. “I… didn’t think you would care?”

“Ugh, you—” he looked to the side, a blush forming on his face as his grip on you tightened. “Of course I care. I’m the one who has to take care of you if you do something stupid and get hurt.”

You blinked, a smile slowly making its way onto your face as the realization dawned on you. As much as you wanted to tease your friend about how he just offered to be your personal nurse, you took pity on him and decided to clear up the miscommunication.

“That’s sweet of you,” you said. “But I’m not hurt. I’m just on my period.”

His gaze snapped back toward you, confusion evident on his face. “Your… what?”

You raised an eyebrow, leaning forward with a teasing grin and a playful tilt of your head. “What, you mean to tell me that in all your years—”

“I know perfectly well what that means!” He turned to the side, bringing a hand up to cover his flushed face while using the other to shove you away. You stumbled a bit at the force of his push but were too busy laughing to say anything back to him. The commotion drew the attention of your two dogs, who trotted over to you with expectant eyes. With an annoyed huff, your roommate turned on his heel and started toward the door.

“Where are you going?” you said between laughs.

“Away from you,” he replied, his face still bright red. As he approached the door, the dogs bolted toward him, running circles around his heels while he picked up his hat. You laughed as you watched the dogs shoot out the door with tails high in the air, a stark contrast to your friend’s sour disposition. He slammed the door behind him, leaving you to chuckle to yourself in the now quiet house.

You shook your head and turned toward the kitchen.

As you pushed open the door, the bundle of orange fur by the windowsill stretched out to reveal Fred, mouth wide open in a yawn. You bent down to scratch behind his ears. He closed his eyes and let out a contented purr, tucking his paws into his chest and curling the top of his body toward his tail. 

It didn’t take much digging to find a wooden tub big enough to wash the sheets. Humming to yourself, you began to fill it with water. Fred followed behind you, poking his face wherever you went.

You had just started dipping the stained cloth into the water when you heard the door open and shut behind you. You called out a greeting without turning around, but glanced back in confusion when you heard your roommate’s footsteps getting closer.

You tilted your head in a silent question as he entered the kitchen, taking off his hat and crouching down beside you. Before you could say anything, he shed his outer layers, along with his gloves, and grabbed the sheets from your hands.

“You’re doing it wrong,” he said, pointedly avoiding your gaze. Despite this, you could still see a tint of pink coloring the tips of his ears.

You laughed. “You didn’t even see me do it yet.”

He didn’t say anything to that, just dipped the sheets into the water and began scrubbing at the fabric. You watched him methodically work the blood out of the fabric, marveling at the expertise evident in his every motion. 

“Thanks.” You smiled, settling back onto the floor in a more comfortable position. He hummed noncommittally in response. Fred, sensing an opportunity, quickly made his way over to you and rubbed against your side. You reached over to pet him, resting your chin on your knees as you continued to watch your friend work. A comfortable silence fell over you, broken only by the quiet splashing of water. It was the first time you ever got to watch him so closely. The water dripping from his hands glistened in the morning sunlight each time he raised the fabric above the tub. Your eyes traced a path up his arm, studying the patterns embedded in his skin: A circular shape on the back of his palm, a line around his shoulder leading to a similar circular pattern on his chest, half covered by the sash around his waist… 

You blinked, heat rising to your cheeks as you realized what you were doing. You quickly turned your gaze to the floor.

“...Does it hurt?”

“Hmm?” You snapped back to attention, sitting a little straighter as you glanced at your roommate’s face. He didn’t repeat the question, perhaps content with letting the conversation fade once more.

“My period?” You asked.

Your only answer was a glance and a hum.

You looked up at the ceiling as you considered his question. “Not really. I’m one of the lucky ones, I guess. The worst I usually get is being really sore after standing for too long. Though, I know there are some people who have it so bad they can barely even move.”

Your roommate made no comment. Not finding anything else to say, you curled up again and turned your attention back to the tub. You absently stroked Fred’s fur, his purrs resonating in the quiet room.

The peace was quickly broken by a flurry of muffled barks and whines. Fred flinched, ears swiveling forward as he searched for the source of the noise. Your roommate shot an annoyed glance at the door. You laughed, pushing yourself off the floor and brushing yourself off.

“I’ll go let them in. They probably want breakfast.”

[cece693]

you wrote about the mad hatter so well... i don't want to overwhelm you, obviously, but i would love a 2nd part!! and maybe in the future you can write some smut scenario with him? 😶‍🌫️

You're Not Crazy Pt. 2 (The Mad Hatter x M! Reader)

Here's the second part :) I'm iffy on writing smut for the Hatter since he's so childlike and I think he wouldn't go that far with someone, he probably finds kissing pleasurable enough, but who knows. I'll probably end up doing it 🤷‍♀️

tags: angst, happy ending, the reader tries to say goodbye, mentions of Alice, the reader is an idiot, but redeems himself

The Hatter's words stung, but you couldn't stay with him. You didn’t belong to Wonderland, as much as you envisioned yourself adapting to the world. You didn’t share its whimsical madness, its strange logic that defied all reason. You loved its colors, its characters—especially him—but deep down, you felt like an outsider playing pretend in a place that wasn’t truly yours.

So, you left.

Back in the real world, everything felt strangely muted. The once-familiar streets seemed dull and lifeless, lacking the vibrancy of Wonderland. Your sister Alice noticed your somber mood almost immediately. She’d seen you come back looking tired or perplexed before, but never like this. It was as if the life was sucked out of you; You weren’t yourself. She knew something big must've happened to put you in such a state.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow across the room, Alice found you sitting by the window, staring off into the distance. She approached quietly, her voice soft. “You’ve been awfully quiet since you got back. What happened in Wonderland?"

You hesitated, the words sat heavily on your tongue, reluctant to be spoken. How could you even begin to describe what had transpired in Wonderland? The way the air had seemed to still when the Hatter looked at you with those wild eyes, the hurt lurking behind his laughter? But after a moment, you sighed and decided to open up, knowing Alice would pester you otherwise.

“The Hatter…he told me to leave. He said I should return home. So, I did.”

Alice watched you carefully, her brow furrowed with concern. “But why would he say that?” she asked softly. She knew the Hatter was eccentric and unpredictable, but she had seen how he looked at you, how his eyes lit up whenever you were near.

You shook your head, frustration mixing with the ache in your chest. “I don’t know.” you admitted, though it wasn’t entirely true. “I think…I think he was afraid. Afraid I’d leave on my own someday, find something more important than him.” Your voice wavered, and you clenched your fists to steady yourself. “He wanted to push me away before I could do it to him.”

Alice remained silent for a moment, her expression softening as she pieced together what you weren’t saying. “So, you just left because he told you to?” she asked, not accusingly but with a kind of gentle reproach. “Without telling him how you felt?”

You looked down, guilt settling like a stone in your stomach. “I thought it was what he wanted.” you murmured. “I didn’t want to hurt him more by staying. But leaving…it felt wrong, too. It still does.”

Alice reached out, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. “You men and your pride,” she said with a soft chuckle. “You’re both acting like fools. You know that, right?”

“What do you mean?”

She smiled, patient and knowing. “I mean that sometimes, people say things they don’t mean because they’re scared of being hurt. The Hatter’s a complicated man, but he’s not so different from anyone else in that way. You need to go back and talk to him. Really talk to him. Otherwise, you’ll never know what could’ve been.”

Her words struck a chord deep within you, resonating with the doubts and hopes that had been churning inside you since you left. She was right—you couldn’t leave things like this, with both of you hiding behind unspoken fears. You had to face it, face him, and figure out what you truly wanted.

Returning to Wonderland was like stepping back into a dream, one that you’d missed desperately in your time away. The colors were brighter, the sounds sharper, yet everything felt strangely muted by the tension in your chest. As you made your way back to the tea party clearing, you could feel your heart pounding harder with every step, a mix of anxiety and anticipation.

When you arrived, you found the Hatter sitting at his usual spot at the head of the long, cluttered table. He was hunched over, a hat perched lopsided on his head, his fingers busy stitching a ribbon that looked like it was fraying at the ends. His back was to you, but the moment he heard your footsteps crunching on the gravel, he stiffened ever so slightly.

“I didn’t expect you back so soon,” he said, his tone light and airy, but you could hear the strain in it—like a string pulled too tight. “Come to say a proper goodbye?”

You took a deep breath, stepping closer, feeling the weight of the conversation pressing down on your shoulders. “Yes, but I want to do it right. I don't want to leave with things unresolved between us."

The Hatter turned to face you slowly, his usual mad grin stretching across his face, but it was different this time. His eyes, usually bright and wild, were shadowed, clouded with something you couldn’t quite place. “Well then,” he said, forcing a laugh that sounded more like a broken sigh, “goodbye it is! Off you go, then! Don’t let the rabbit hole hit you on the way out!”

Without thinking, you reached out and pulled him into a hug. His body went rigid at first, as if he didn’t know how to react. You could feel his rapid breaths against your chest, hear the hitch in his throat as he struggled to keep up the façade. Then, slowly, he softened, his arms coming up to clutch at your back, holding you as if you were the only thing keeping him tethered to the ground.

“Why are you doing this?” he whispered, his voice cracking, caught somewhere between a sob and a laugh. “Why are you making this so hard?”

“Because I don’t want to leave you,” you confessed, your voice thick with emotion. “But I don’t know how to stay when I feel like I don’t belong here.”

The Hatter pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes glassy with unshed tears. “You do belong. To me, you do.”

His words pierced through you, breaking down the last of your defenses. You thought you had made up your mind to leave, to return to the real world where everything made sense, where things followed rules. But in that moment, nothing made sense without him.

You stepped back, letting go of him even though it hurt. “Goodbye, Hatter.” you said softly, turning away. “I’ll miss you.”

As you started up the path that would take you back home, every step felt like dragging a weight behind you. You reached the midway point, the fork in the path where one route would lead you back to reality. You paused, your heart aching with each second that passed. You glanced back, your breath catching in your throat when you saw him still standing there, watching you leave with a look of pure devastation.

You couldn’t do it. You couldn’t leave him like this.

Turning on your heel, you sprinted back down the path, the wind whipping against your face as you ran. You didn’t stop until you were right in front of him again. His eyes widened in shock, his lips parting to ask something, but you didn’t give him the chance. You cupped his face in your hands and kissed him, pouring all the emotion you’d been holding back into that kiss—your fear, your love, your need to stay.

When you finally pulled away, breathless, he stared at you, his eyes wide and searching. “You…you came back?”

“I did,” you said, smiling through the tears in your eyes. “If you’ll have me. I’m not going anywhere.”

For a moment, he looked as if he didn’t believe you, his gaze darting over your face as if trying to find some hint of doubt or hesitation. But then his lips slowly curved into a smile—a real, genuine smile that lit up his entire face. “Oh, yes. Yes, indeed! And we shall have tea every day, and perhaps cake, and perhaps something more delightful!”

You laughed, a lightness settling over you that you hadn’t felt in days. “Sounds like a plan.”