#I just wish I could do a cat eye without it looking awful

[alastorss]

a/n: hihi @bri22222 !! tumblr for some reason ate your ask in my inbox but here is the cat demon!reader taking care of sick alastor request you sent <3 i hope you like it!

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

You had taken it upon yourself to become Alastor's own personal nurse when he got sick, despite his outspoken displeasure in being babied.

He was an Overlord, for god's sake, and one of the most feared at that. There was a certain irritation in him when you would show up to his room (which didn't even have a bed in it until he fell ill and you decided to push one in yourself, much to his dismay).

You'd sport all kinds of goods; warm jambalaya, his own mother's recipe, that he would deny even though he was itching to eat it. Some cough drops that tasted horribly of sickly sweet honey and lemon. Fresh boxes of tissues since he was going through them faster than you could imagine.

The worst of them all was when you would show up at the foot of his bed with little rodents, eyes wide and expectant for praise that would never come. Then you'd settle in his bed, curled up in his lap like you owned the place, and fall asleep.

While the warmth was nice, which he would never admit, and he liked the feeling of his hand smoothing down the hair between your set of drooping feline ears, he's not sure how much more of this he can take.

"You know," he starts one day when you sit at the edge of his bed, straightening out the duvet as you do. "I do wish you would stop fretting over me."

"You're sick," you deadpan. "And you took care of me when I was sick. At least let me return the favour."

He grimaces, remembering how miserable you looked when you caught a nasty flu a few months ago. Who knew cats were so pitiful when sick?

"Really, dear, it's fine! I was just helping a friend."

You frown, unconvinced. "And I'm just helping you back! Come on, you can barely go downstairs to get food by yourself."

"I'm perfectly fine!" He mutters between his grit teeth, smiling bordering on baring his fangs at you. Unfortunately, he doesn't do a very good job at intimidating you. Not after you've already seen his soft side of clinging to you like you're his personal heater.

Of course, his cursed demon body decides to betray him at that exact moment and he falls into a coughing fit, sputtering as he rakes in sharp breaths of air.

You're quick to climb over the bed to him, straddling his lap and forcing him to drink from his glass of water. He glares at you but drinks without refusal.

Alastor is the Radio Demon. Owner of souls. Entertainer extraordinaire. Yet here he is, taken down by a pathetic fever and being coddled by his favourite feline.

He carefully pinches your tail to get you to pull away from him, yelping in the process. "I'm fine," he hisses. "I don't need your help. I don't need to be taken care of!"

Your ears flatten against your head at his tone and you scramble off of his lap, cowering like a wounded animal.

For a moment he feels a flash of remorse, or whatever feeling has replaced what would be guilt in that black heart of his. He even considers opening his mouth to say something more reassuring. But then you scurry out of the room and slam the door behind you. His ears ring from the echo of it, then deathly silence follows.

Alastor reaches over to drink from his water glass on his own, only to realize it was knocked over in the commotion.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

He counts the days that pass, subconsciously or not, and feels his smile shrinking by each daylight.

Sure, he was quick to temper, but he had never lashed out at you before. It's an awful feeling that sinks into his stomach, making him dread what's to come when he fully recovers.

Worst of all, he was wrong. He does need your help.

It was peaceful at first and he enjoyed the silence that came without your company. However, he hadn't realized how accustomed he had grown to your ambient presence.

How had he never realized you were so loud when you made your entrances, or that you purred ever so slightly when he scratched just behind your ears? And was he really so weak that he was thinking of apologizing? He can't stand the idea that he may have frightened or hurt you.

It used to be so easy for him to sit with his own thoughts. Nowadays it's hard without getting to hear about your day or getting to fluster you with his incessant teasing.

He's cold, too. He would gladly let you fetch him a hundred rodents if it meant getting to hold onto you in his sick state.

On the fifth day, he decides he's had enough. The demon doesn't even bother knocking, instead opting to materialize from the shadows and jumpscare you from behind.

"I'm..." he seethes through his teeth, eyes thin and twitching.

You tilt your head at him curiously, prickled hairs flattening back down as confusion replaces your adrenaline. "You... what?"

"I'm sorry," he finally manages to get out, though it comes strained and awkward. Still, he swallows his pride and avoids your eyes while he continues. "I was wrong."

You stare at him blankly for a few seconds, intrigued by the sight of such a powerful Overlord trying to do something as uncharacteristic as apologize. In the end, you can't contain your laughter.

He glowers at you as you topple over in your bed in a fit of giggles, wiping away the tears in your eyes.

"Oh, you sap. Come here!" You sit up and open your arms wide, a big, cheeky (and smug) grin spreading across your face.

Grumbling, Alastor shuffles into your bed and collapses into you, effectively crushing you under him. You don't seem to care, arms tugging him closer and tail brushing over his body.

"You missed me that much?"

"One more word out of you and I am leaving."

"Aww, so that's a yes?"

The Radio Demon only sighs, heavy eyes drifting shut in your warmth.

"Don't get it twisted, dearest. I will not be thanking you for putting rats in my sheets every morning."

~

taglist: @the-lake-is-calling @dragons-and-dwarves-are-nice @averylonelysea @bri22222 @cxrsedwxrlds @amarokofficial @anae-naea-zacheria (send an ask to be added!)

#🍓 faye's thoughts <3 #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin x reader #alastor fanfic #alastor fluff #alastor headcanons #alastor fanfiction #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor x you #hazbin hotel fanfic #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin #hazbin fic #alastor fic #radio demon #radio demon x reader

[dyadicjustice]

can u do like a hazelxreader best friends to lovers

like they’ve both been secretly in love with each other and pining for years but were too scared to say anything (and maybe smut if u write that but if not that’s totally good)

ooooh let me see what magic i can work, bestie. aged up the characters to be in college, so rockbridge falls high is now rockbridge university. unfortunately no smut this time because i am awful at it 😅 but i hope you enjoy this little blurb instead

ao3 link for if u prefer to read there :)

At 11:30, Professor G's class let out without anyone having learned anything actually in the syllabus. But for you, there wasn’t much room in your mind for history lessons anyway. You were too distracted by Hazel sitting next to you, scrolling on Twitter and excitedly showing you every adorable cat meme she came across. 

You’d known each other since the 3rd grade, and it was safe to say that some things never change— especially not your love for one another as best friends. At least until the end of Senior Year, when you’d started to realize that change was inevitable, and you’d fallen hard for her.

You’d been overcompensating these past couple months. You’d purposely try to fly under the radar, so she wouldn’t notice you pining or the countless lingering looks and lip biting. Desperation was heavy in your bones, settled deep in your core. So when you finally return to your shared dorm, she asks, “Seriously y/n, it seems like you’re not even here most days. What’s going on?”  

You know you can’t lie to her. You can’t lie to those dazzling grey eyes, so warm and sweet and sincere. So you sigh and admit, “Are you ready to receive some potentially devastating information that could change the state of our friendship forever?”

She blinks and lets out a quiet chuckle, “Uh, no promises, weirdo. What’s up?” 

“Hazel, I’m being serious. It’s like... important,” you whine.

She hikes an eyebrow at your nervous demeanor, taking a beat to take in your features. She’s suddenly fully aware you’re uncomfortable when you start to wring your hands a bit. To calm your fidgeting, she slips her hands in between them and intertwines your fingers. You feel her sweet gesture start to soothe you, like when puppies snuggle up to you to help you stop crying.

She whispers, “What’s wrong, bean?”

Your eyes start to water at the nickname. “You have to promise you won’t get upset”, you choke out.

She wraps her arms around your neck in a comforting embrace, and whispers in your ear, “I promise. You can tell me, only if you’re comfortable and ready.” And her considerate nature makes you want to cave and sob right then and there.

“I love you, Hazel. But, I also… I just… I’m in love with you.” You can’t even meet her eyes out of pure embarrassment. You feel her fingers snake beneath your chin, and she gently tugs until you’re looking into her eyes. She stares into yours, into your soul, really. She whispers, “y/f/n, I’ve been dreaming of hearing you say that for years.” You both giggle. You joke, “That’s such a fucking relief because I would’ve shat myself if you rejected me.” 

“I could never reject you, bean! Thank you for being brave enough to tell me.” You can hear the smile in her voice. “But I am curious, when did you realize you felt that way?”

You sigh, “Honestly? I knew I was sure when we went to Senior Prom together, so 6 months maybe? But I also would say, I’d felt something since we were like 10. I just hadn’t realized how deep my love was back then.”

Hazel murmurs, “You made Prom Night so magical. You looked lovely. Not to mention, you just had this magnetism to you that had everybody staring. I was fighting the urge to kiss you the entire evening. It was hardest during the slow dance.”

You admit that you had felt similarly, explaining, “It was hardest for me to resist when you had that little bit of whipped cream stuck on your lip when we went to Denny’s after. I wiped it away with a napkin, but I wish I’d just gone for it.” 

You stare up at her lovingly as a subtle silence emerges between you, your eyes scanning her features before dropping to her lips. Without saying a word, you crash your lips together. Hers taste like… well, like nothing and like everything at the same time. Just chapstick and love. 

And it’s not your first time kissing a girl by any means, But you can already tell it’s your favorite after only ten seconds. 

Hazel pulls away, breathless, “So just to be clear, what does this make you and me?” She smirks.

You hold her cheek with one hand and hook the other around the back of her neck, scratching the back of her head. Her jaw goes slack and her eyes flutter. You reply, “Horny, Hazel. It makes us really fucking horny.”

She smirks, “Maybe we should… do something about that. Your place or mine?” She dopily wiggles her eyebrows. It’s made even more ridiculous by the fact that your beds are just feet away from each other.

You shoot back, giggling, “Yours. I don’t wanna fuck up my sheets right now.”

She scoops you up bridal style and sets you down on her bed. Those months of pre-season training for rugby had made her insanely strong despite her short and lean figure.

She kisses your forehead and replies, “Whatever you wish, Your Majesty.”

#hazel callahan #hazel callahan x reader #bottoms (2023) #bottoms movie #bottoms 2023

[reveluving]

just a nip ; peter hale x reader x deucalion

summary: you don't understand your husbands' obsession with your fangs, and you most certainly don't question it.

warnings: some s~mut (kinky husbands, so minors DNI!) + soft & sweet!

a/n: more of our fav canine duo and their vamp wife! had this lil' idea for MONTHS so I had to let it out eventually hhhh don’t forget to leave some sugar! ᐠ( ᐛ )ᐟ

» fancy reading the series? check out the m.list!

» smut includes; kinky soft dom husbands, unprotected sex (p in v), petnames ('pretty girl', 'sweetheart', 'angel'), mentions of making a facial mess, mild edging & punishment??

'A sight that they will forever treasure.' ;

Their obsession with your fangs goes beyond your expectation but for different reasons. Peter likes the surprised look on your face whenever he sticks his finger in your mouth as you yawn the way an owner would to their cat. Whether you’re in a jolly mood or going through your worst day so far, you can’t help but share the amusement he has for his habit. Deuc, on the other hand, is no stranger to doing the same but often, in a more, intimate setting. If you happened to be riding his cock? Oh, it riles him up like no other. He’ll be straight-up kinky; shoving a finger or two in your mouth to lightly run them across your little canines. He’d be smug, especially if you’re staring back into his eyes as yours glow unnaturally, wishing you could wipe the smirk off his face. 

That’s not to say they’re not in the mood to switch; Deuc loves seeing your pupils contract into slits as he teases you about your cat-like behaviour the same way Peter enjoys feeling your fangs when you go to town between the sheets, but you can tell they have their own preference over the other. 

But there is one in particular that despite never admitting it, not especially amongst each other (at least, not outwardly) is ingrained in their heads, a sight that they will forever treasure.

They have a love-hate relationship with the way you bite down on the pillow/sheets, almost shying away from one's heated gaze and obscene praises while the other growls in your ear as they pound into you from behind.

"Such a pretty, pretty girl."

"Aw, was that a little shiver I felt? You love it when I growl in your ear, don't you?"

"Don't close your eyes, sweetheart. I want those pretty eyes in me when I cum all over your face."

"You better not cum just yet, angel. You remember what happened the last time when you came without our permission, don't you?"

On one hand, they get off on the fact that the usually level-headed and sometimes bashful mother of the pack is losing herself in the sheer pleasure that only they can offer, but on the other hand, they wish to hear you scream at their mercy. Either way, they just loved how submissive you looked.

Absolute menaces.

» gorgeous rose divider by @firefly-graphics ♡

a/n: I hope my ian/gideon enthusiasts are doing fabulous, y'all better take care, ily! 🫂❤

#— reve's reverie 🌹 #back on my vampy wifey bs #a little more love series #peter hale x reader #peter hale x fem!reader #peter hale x you #peter hale #deucalion x reader #deucalion x fem!reader #deucalion x you #deucation #the deucalion #peter hale x reader x deucalion #ian bohen #gideon emery #teen wolf #teen wolf x reader #teen wolf fanfiction

[thoughtfullyrainynightmare]

Hiiii~

Could you please do headcanons with fuegoleon and nozel when their s/o gives them a surprise back hug ? I just love the little fluffy things

Hiya! ^^

Oh this was so fun to write! Just a little, cute, fluffy thing! I hope it makes you giggle!

Pairing: Fuegoleon x gn!reader, Nozel x gn!reader Fanfic type: Headcanons Genre: Fluff (maybe with a grin :3 ) Total length: ~0.9k

Fuegoleon

He is someone to likes to act professionally in public all times. Which isn’t about him being ashamed of you, or public displays of affection per se, but rather it’s about not making your relationship more of a talking point of the entire kingdom than what it undoubtedly will be, granted his royal status.

But still, holding your hand, or walking side by side with your arm linked to his aren’t unseen, or unusual instances and sights by any means. Because he does want to be close to you.

And of course in private cuddle sessions and some playful teasing and taunting, and him scooping you into his arms unexpectedly, or you diving into a hug were anything but rare. Because love, affection and passion were there from both of you.

However, a part of you wished to see your very serious, dashing and poised spouse, at least a little bit flustered. In a way that would do no real harm of course.

So, one day, when you were at the castle together, him about to go into a meeting and you seeing him across the room, the corners of your lips turned into a cheeky grin. Because, you had an idea.

Your eyes glanced around, and people were coming and going, but mostly going. And it was peaceful enough around so you might be able to do a thing without having anyone else see it. But then again if someone would happen to see you expressing you loving your spouse, would that really be so awful? Nah.

So, you took a few, careful steps forward. As if you were a cat readying yourself for a bounce. Then another, and another during which you crouched a bit by leaning forth. Then you took a few steps…

And then you lunged forth while wrapping your arms around him from behind.

He stumbled forth by only a step as you hugged him from behind, and you could feel him trying to turn around in your arms.

“My beloved what…” he uttered with his eyes wide open as he tried to look over your shoulder.

“I wanted to give you a hug,” you told him while still pressing yourself against his back. But you turned your head to look at him, and saw his gaze soften into one of adoration and affection tender as the first light of the morning sun. And, you could swear, that there was a little tint of red over his cheeks.

Nozel

Nozel was a rigid and poised man in public. You knew this, he knew this, and everyone else knew it. He was someone who wasn’t comfortable with public displays of affection, because he believed that affection between a couple shouldn’t be for anyone else to witness than the couple itself. Being courteous and respectful of one and another, even expressing the wish to keep the other safe and protected were of course something that he had no qualms about in public, of course, but kisses and hugs and other, such, forms of affection were in his mind something that were only for the two of you.

And he took a long time in being… you supposed ‘brave enough’ to initiate displays of affection, even in private. It had just been like he was unsure of if he might, or how to best go about it. He always seemed so flustered about it, which was, quite honestly, so adorable. Just trying to go about it, as if circling around wanting to kiss you unexpectedly, even if it was just the two of you.

In a way, he seemed more confident while offering his arm in public, so that you might link yours to his, or wrapping his arm around you by placing his hand onto your shoulder when he wished to appear protective. The motions that were textbook noble man behaviour. Of a kind. In certain situations. Those he could manage without a doubt.

But when it was ‘just him’. Him as Nozel rather than Lord Silva, he seemed to stumble.

One day, you were out in the Silver Eagles’ headquarters, and you saw him, staring some documents in hand out of office. Which was unusual as it was, but as he lowered the documents in hand, and pinched the bridge of his nose with the other, you knew that it must’ve been something less than pleasant.

You glanced around to see no one, and with it you thought that you might dare. ‘Dare’ only because you didn’t want to put him into an awkward spot when he was already worried about something.

Then you took a few steps forth, carefully and silently, until you reached him. You wrapped your arms around him into a gentle, yet swift embrace, because if you weren’t determined enough, he’d surely have slipped away.

He instantly tensed up and his head shot back as much as it could. And you were quite sure that there was a passing glare in his eyes.

“Darling, don’t-“, he said while looking around for anyone who might see.

“It’s alright,” you told him while keeping him in your arms. “So what if they see that I love you.”

He halted, as if he hadn’t expected you to say something like that. It was another passing moment where he just stood there, in your embrace, until he placed his hand over yours.

He didn’t say anything, just stood there, keeping your arms wrapped around him.

But as you peeked to his face, you saw that his cheeks were of a lovely shade of red.

#black clover fanfiction #black clover headcanon #fuegoleon x reader #fuegoleon vermillion x reader #nozel x reader #nozel silva x reader #black clover x reader

[yandere-romanticaa]

❝ I don't remember telling you to leave. ❞

As usual his voice cut sharp, almost like a sword which was swung high up in the air, threatening to end the life of the users enemy. Who knows how long had passed since you stepped foot into the castle library and had managed to lose yourself amongst the endless sea of books that were scattered across the table, many of which happened to be sappy love stories. Chevalier had oh so kindly requested that you recommend him anything you fancy regardless whether or not you'd think he'd like it. You had just barely registered his presence when he first entered the room and had thought that he left ages ago. You read and read, the sky turning warm and orange, soft hues bathing you in their gentle glory, beckoning you to rest, just close your eyes for a little bit.

Darkness has fallen and the scent of sweet roses invaded your senses like never before. Warmth from another radiated close by, their firm shoulder pressed tightly against your own as you cracked a single eye open to see just who was keeping you warm.

That was how you found yourself in this predicament.

Eyes like ice, skin like snow, Chevalier sure was a sight to behold even if the sheer brute strength he was displaying sourly contradicted his oddly ethereal beauty. A large, gloved hand held your wrist tightly, deep blue eyes peering into your own, challenging you to move.

❝ I am well aware that I am being a nuisance, Your Highness. Therefore, I think it would be best if I just left. ❞

He said nothing, his face showed no emotion whatsoever much to your displeasure. A part of you wondered if he could hear just how hard your heart was racing, fear creeping up on the back of your neck. Without a word he merely lifted your arm up, brought it to his lips and pressed a tiny peck on the pulse point, almost as if he was trying to claim something valuable that could be easily turned to ashes.

You stared at him in awe and confusion, mind filled to the brim with millions upon millions of questions.

His Highness had made sure to show just how much he did not like your company on a day to day basis - petty insults which could even be called mean on occasion would casually be thrown at you, he would constantly pester you on how to do your duties and would "fix" everything for you. From how to properly cut vegetables to how to walk amongst the other snobby aristocrats, Chevalier somehow always managed to make you feel lesser than.

Why, oh why, was he suddenly displaying this odd token of affection?

He smirked, his lips were still pressed against your soft skin. You could feel his teeth gently grazing against the soft flesh, the threat of him biting you suddenly creeped up on you. He... He wouldn't really do that?!

That was what you wanted to believe.

❝ You're so easy to read, as per usual. ❞ - said Chevalier, his tone laced with the slightest hint of wicked amusement. For a split second he almost looked like the devil's incarnate. He was a person to fear, a man you should not trust and he made sure to hammer in that point to you.

... what sort of sick pleasure did he find in teasing you?

By some miracle you had managed to free yourself from his grip but chances are it was Chevalier himself that set you free.

You really wouldn't have been able to escape otherwise.

In a flash you had turned your back away from him and made a beeline towards the large door. Adrenaline pumped in your veins, becking you to just make a run for it, don't look back, don't even bother with the twisted prince but your curiosity won out in the end.

Just before you could exist you decided to turn your head ever so slightly, just to make sure that he wasn't following you.

Whoever said that satisfaction brought the cat back as a liar, you thought fearfully to yourself.

Chevalier merely made himself more comfortable on the now half empty loveseat, legs crossed and one arm placed on his cheeks as he stared at you, his eyes cold and calculated.

Part of you wished he would react like a normal man and just run straight towards you but he was not a normal man.

Chevalier Michel could be easily considered winter incarnate and if you stayed in that room a moment longer who knew what would happen.

With strength you didn't know you possessed, you closed the large oak door shut, the loud echo disturbing the eerie silence of the palace. Letting out a tired sigh you looked out the window only to be met with a moonless sky and a million stars. A single tear escaped you, helplessness filling your entire being.

Just how long was the merciless beat going to torment you?

And just when were you going to see just how much he adored you, even if he didn't know how to express it?

#yandere #yandere x reader #yancore #yanderecore #yandere aesthetic #yandere imagines #yandere x you #yandere ikepri #ikemen prince #ikemen games #ikeprince #chevalier michel x reader #ikepri chevalier #chevalier michel #yandere chevalier michel #yandere chevalier michel x reader #yandere male

[wc-confessions]

Longtail is my favorite character. I love his character arc, how he acts as a narrative foil to Firestar, and how he starts out as a jerkass but grows to have a backbone, shows himself to be a loyal warrior with a heart of gold where it counts, rejects Tigerstar when lines in the sand have been crossed despite how much he once looked up to him, and eventually grows to be very loyal to Firestar. I wish people talked more about the scene where he saves Fire when Tiger tries to drown him even though they’re not at all on friendly terms yet. Also his mentor-apprentice relationship with Swiftpaw tears me apart but I live for all the fan content that shows their bond and how much regret he has to live with after Swiftpaw’s death.

To this day I have so many gripes with what happened to my boy post-TPB.

If there is a non-death equivalent of TV Tropes’ “Too Cool To Live,” Longtail is basically that. He had to be written out because if he weren’t forcibly removed from the action, then he would be the obvious choice to become deputy during Greystripe’s absence in TNP (and arguably should have been chosen over Greystripe in the first place; I do like Grey but he was not particularly loyal nor responsible in his youth). Longtail was still relatively young, healthy and fit, loyal, experienced, passionate. You cannot convince me that he wasn’t dealt a career-ending injury solely because the plot demanded Brambeclaw become deputy by the end of TNP.

I don’t think Longstar would have ever been realistic to expect because he’s not a central enough character and not related to Fire/Tiger, and because he would have been fairly old for a clan cat by the time of Firestar’s death, but maybe he could have held out as deputy till the end of TNP or even early PO3 and been given a cooler and more memorable death than what he got. But more on that later.

We all know how badly this series shafts its disabled characters. Maybe this is trivial to some, but I really hate the retcon about his blindness. When his vision started failing of natural causes, it was still frustrating for the reasons above but it at least seemed like he made a voluntary choice to retire early. He maintained a degree of agency, and he made his own decision under the circumstances rather than having it taken from him by the narrative. Having him get blinded by a rabbit of all things just feels like a cheap shot to move the plot along. If he were going to have a freak accident, at least make it less stupid than an experienced warrior getting his eyes scratched out by a prey animal.

Not that any of them are handled *well* by any means, but we have roughly this same character arc with so many other characters who are given more depth in coming to terms with a permanent disability or disfigurement and having it alter the course of their lives (Cinderpelt, Brightheart, later on Briarlight…) that we didn’t need this one to happen to prove any kind of point or to say something too much different than any of those other instances.

The silver lining of Longtail’s injury is that it allows us to see more of his friendship with Mousefur than we would have gotten if either of them had died younger, and/or if they had faded to being background characters in the ever-growing ThunderClan roster. I really adore their dynamic. I headcanon them as aroace besties (iirc though this is basically canon for at least Mousefur). I find it so lovely and refreshing that a m/f pair of characters, and ones who are mostly very likable at that, can have a platonic relationship with so much care for each other without it eventually going down the marriage-and-children path that most m/f relationships eventually do in this series.

However.

Longtail’s death, and Mousefur’s role in it, are possibly even more frustrating and narratively awful than even the accident that caused his blindness.

Having him go out in such a cheap and easily preventable way felt like such a fucking slap in the face to these beloved characters who have been around from the very beginning of the series. Longtail had his whole life redefined and turned upside down by one random, frustrating freak accident involving prey and he ultimately lost his life to another one. Mousefur’s character was mishandled so grossly here, and a cat who is usually pretty sensible and grounded lost her best friend because she couldn’t let one (1) mouse go in a moment of what I have to assume is senility.

I am at least glad the two got a proper send-off in the Great Battle, with them getting to reunite on-screen and his spirit guiding her to Starclan after she fell in battle. It doesn’t quite make up for everything else given that Longtail had so much unused potential while alive, but it all would have been so, so much more upsetting if they weren’t given at least that much to close their chapters.

Thank you for coming to my TED Talk about Longtail. He is so dear to my heart and deserved so much better than most of what he got.

.

#text #anonymous #confession #warrior cats

[thelampisaflashlight]

Cat’s Eye

[Dew and Swiss go to the grocery store, and Swiss tries to figure out what Dew wants. The answer is unexpectedly wholesome.] Below the cut.

It’s a well known fact that Dew won’t ask for the things he really wants, instead, he’ll ask around it.

As if not mentioning it directly will magically get him what he wants without having to say it out loud.

Like if the words don’t leave his mouth, that he’s not asking, that he didn’t ask, so that if he does get it, it’s okay to be happy about it.

Swiss won’t claim to know or even understand why Dew is the way he is, but in a weird way? He gets this.

He gets that this isn’t just Dew actively trying to be difficult, but it’s starting to...

It’s pissing Swiss off, okay?

Aether can approach the situation with gentle words and gestures of support.

Mountain can be patient as a stone growing moss.

Heck, even Rain can handle Dew’s oddness.

But Swiss?

Something about it drives the normally jovial ghoul up a fucking wall.

And he feels bad.

He feels awful every time he feels the annoyance bubbling up inside of him at Dew’s lack of directness with his wants and needs, because every time Swiss looks at him, there’s this flicker of discomfort that he knows is disappointment.

And Swiss hates seeing the people around his dissatisfied.

It comes to a head one morning while they’re in a store together running errands for the others.

Dew sees... something.

Swiss isn’t sure what out of the hundreds of things in the aisle it could possibly be, but it’s enough to make the ghoul pause for a fraction of a second.

He’s quick to move on, but Swiss, he...

“What do you want?”

“Huh?”

He’ll admit his tone isn’t the best, it’s early and his voice is a little hoarse from the night before -Uno gets intense in the dens- but Dew should know he’s not annoyed, just curious.

The shift in his body language is immediate though.

Arms pulled inward, stance tight.

Defensive.

Swiss is tired, so before Dew can say he doesn’t want anything, he holds up a hand to stop his bullshit before it even starts.

“Whatever it is... just put it in the basket.” Swiss says carefully, “I... I don’t want you to be upset later that you didn’t get it, so just... get it now.”

Still, Dew hesitates.

“...Dew.” he sighs, “It’s... Whatever little hang-up you’ve got going on it that head of yours, I need you to get a handle on it for five seconds, please.”

Dew looks away and then back again, too fast for Swiss to follow his gaze, before grabbing the basket from Swiss and heading down the aisle, list in hand.

Swiss wants to be mad, wants to yell at him... but they’re in public, and, frankly, Swiss doesn’t want to get lectured by Cumulus and Aether when they get back for Dew’s bad mood.

Sometimes, Swiss really wishes he was a mind reader, but, then again, he’s not to sure he wants to know what swirling mess is going on in Dew’s head right now.

The rest of the trip is uneventful as they gather up the rest of the necessary items from the list... leaving only whatever Dew wanted still not in the damned basket, much to Swiss’ chagrin.

He’d even purposefully walked them down that aisle again.

Twice!

But Dew still hadn’t budged.

Maybe Dew had decided he didn’t want whatever it was he’d saw, and Swiss was just being a dick by parading him by it over and over again, but at this point, it was more for Swiss’ own relief than his.

Staring at the display again, Swiss reaches for something, carefully watching Dew’s gaze.

He’s looking at...

Oh.

“This?” Swiss asks, holding up a package of marbles, from the look on Dew’s face, he’s at least partially correct.

Narrowing his eyes, Swiss looks at the bags again, swapping the one in his hand for a different assortment.

“...I want the one with the blue marbles in it...” Dew says finally, pointing at a third bag on the display.

Swiss looks at it, surprised.

“Okay.”

Placing the bag in the basket, Swiss sighs relaxing a bit, but it doesn’t last long when he sees the tension in Dew’s body grow instead of lessening.

“What is it now?” he doesn’t mean to sound impatient, but he’s not sure what’s wrong, and he can see the fight or flight building behind Dew’s eyes.

And then he remembers.

What happens when Dew gets what he wants, when he asks for it.

Because he got something he likes, he brain is drawing a hard line towards disaster, he’s waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Inhaling sharply, Swiss tries to think of a way to diffuse the situation before the tension can build further.

Some kind of distraction to-

“Hold my hand.”

Dew furrows his brow at him, “What?”

Swiss stretches his hand out towards him, “In exchange for the marbles, you have to hold my hand.”

“Dude.” 

“I could put the marbles back...” Swiss pretends to consider, he’s not being serious, not when Dew finally asked for what he wanted, but it is fun to tease him a little.

He wiggles his fingers at him.

“Fine.” Dew huffs and grabs his hand, the face turning pink up to the tips of his ears.

“Is it that embarrassing to hold my hand in public, man?” Swiss laughs, watching Dew look away awkwardly.

“Maybe. A little. I don’t know.” he stammers, it’s rare to see Dew this fidgety about this kind of thing. 

He must be really out of his element at the moment to be embarrassed about something so simple as holding hands, and Swiss is going to enjoy milking this for all it’s worth.

“Well, let’s head to the check out then.” Swiss hums, pulling Dew along.

He lets go of his hand while they’re checking out, but once he has all the bags secured in one hand, he’s reaching over and making grabby hands towards Dew again.

“Again?” Dew asks, flabbergasted, “You can’t be-”

“Not again, still. You still have to hold my hand. We never negotiated terms on out bargain, so you have to hold my hand all the way home~” Swiss singsongs, taking Dew’s hand and giving it a firm squeeze, “Gotta keep you next to me so you don’t disappear into the ether and combust or something...”

“Ughh...” Dew groans, but squeezes back.

“How is this more embarrassing to you than anything else you’ve ever done with me before?” Swiss asks as they start walking again, “Like, bro, I’ve seen you entire ass before and-”

Glancing at Dew again, Swiss pauses.

He’s... he’s smiling?

“Wait.”

As if rewinding a movie, Swiss thinks back on the morning’s events.

Lifting their intertwined hands.

“...Was this... Was this what you actually wanted?”

Dew looks up and away.

“...I... Yeah.” he admits finally, “Yeah.”

Swiss stares at him open mouthed.

All those times Dew had been seemingly looking at something he wanted, looking back and forth between him and the shelves, he was just... too nervous to...

“Bro, you’re gonna give me fuckin’ heart palpitations, that’s so-”

“Don’t.”

“It’s fuckin’ adorable, dude.”

Dew covers his face with his free hand.

“I hate you so much.”

Swiss smirks, “Nah, man, you love me, and you know it.”

It’s a long walk back to the abbey.

#Lamp writes #nameless ghouls #swiss ghoul #dewdrop ghoul #ghost band #the band ghost #ghost bc #ghost band fanfic

[saltygilmores]

Thoughts While Watching Gilmore Girls-3x8: Let The Games Begin aka Let The ShitCircus Begin Aka Clowntown (Part 2)

@ernestonlysayslovelythings: "Luke saying "Rory will rub off on Jess" seems like a missed opportunity for a joke" Indeed, my friend. He lobbed me a softball and I missed the catch. In all fairness, I was ducking it in hopes that said softball would miss me and bean Lorelai in the forehead. *cracks knuckles* *deep inhale*

Rory and Jess have just signed an 8 month No Rubbing Off contract. Rory is saving all Rubbing Off until marriage. Not her marriage, just a marriage (okay, fine,I plagarized this one) There will be no Rubbing Off until funding for the Handjobs For the Hollow initiative is secured

Shane : (emitting a series of swan honks) Translation: “I was rubbing off on him every day! Until he fucking cut off my hands!" At least I think that's what she said. There are different swan dialects. I’m still learning how to translate, doing SwanOLingo…

After Kirk comes into the diner grief stricken about his missing Dance Marathon trophy, Rory arrives after, where she appears nervous and has a very stilted and awkward interaction with Luke, and my brain was so half asleep that I couldn't figure out why. Then I'm like...oh yeah. That whole Jess thing. Right. Someone just woke the hell up.

I love that this scene is supposed to take place after school (confirmed by Kirk asking Rory where she was at 10am today and she says school) and Jess is rubbing his eyes like he just woke up.

It's nice to see Rory looking at Jess like a deer caught in the headlights because she in quiet awe of him, as opposed to Rory looking at Dean like a dear in the headlights because she fears him.

Tomatos sign! Another reminder that this feral kitten is a grown woman's arch nemesis and in a few moments she's going to say she wishes he would die in a house fire. Don't listen to him, Luke. Look at this kitten. He's clearly emaciated. He got seperated from his feral cat colony and he's hungry. *checks for microchip* *puts out a tin of tuna* *pspspsps*

You would, miss Eats Parmesan Cheese Straight from the Can and Sandwiches With No Innards and French Toast Without Utensils. Soon to be Miss E Coli. We interupt this nonsense for some breaking news. As I was writing this, I was interrupted by an earthquake.

This must have been God breaking free of the heavens and blessing the union between Rory and Jess. Or more like Satan breaking free from the earth and cursing this bitch.

Smoother than a fresh jar of Skippy, this SexCriminal.

This was a grade a Filet Mignon Okuh right here. I will continue to delight in the fact that Rory and SexCriminalJess dated for 6-7 months and despite all the fretting from adults with nothing else to do but nose into the sex lives of adult teenagers, they never have sex, and after all that fuss and furious cockblocking she just ends up screwing Dean instead. The fact that the adults in Stars Hollow are so in awe of Jess' sexual prowess to believe that if Rory were to be in his presence unsupervised for mere moments, her clothes would just fly off and they'd be found humping on the floor is hilarious and infuriating but also, not completely untrue.

"There goes my nephew the Gigolo" He's in awe the speed in which his nephew works, as it would take Luke over 4 years to get Lorelai upstairs alone to makeout.

#SexCriminals Look at all this furious naked humping going on. By god, I bet she's already pregnant. This is the sexiest complete avoidance of eye contact I've ever seen. You better hurry and put a stop to this, Adults!

That kiss was so chaste Mama Kim wouldn't even blink. She could bring them to church and use them as explemary role models for abstinence. They're even Leaving Room for Jesus. Luke:

That was A MINUTE. I know we're going to hear from Lorelai at a future time about how Crusty impregnated her with the speed of a jackrabbit on Adderall, so Jess could theoretically knock Rory up in a few seconds using telepathy or something, but give the boy some damn credit. Can't you people let this kid have ANY fucking joy (or privacy) in his life? I am so mad. It takes a lot for me to get mad at Luke Danes. This is what Luke and Lorelai are imagining will happen in less than a minute:

#gilmore girls #denise rewatches gilmore girls #Let The Shit CIrcus Begin #I mean #Let The Games Begin #LTGB #jess mariano #literati #rory gilmore #luke danes #gilmore girls season 3 #ive reached my limit for today with this one #Luke sucks

[kurosstuff]

Cassandra x reader: Spider

Summary: Cassandra is totally not scared.

Warning(s): Cassandra being Cassandra

Take this as a practice writing for me being back? Hope you all enjoy this short fic

There's not alot that can terrify Cassandra- she's the one that strikes fear in those around her not the other way around. She's a cold sadistic person who without fail can and will traumatize you just for breathing wrong- Cassandra is not soft. Nor is she a scaredy cat.

She's not

She's really not at all.

Not even with those beady eyes watching her from the ground as she sat safely above the cabinet. Unblinking at the preda- small bug. A useless insect that if she wished she could just stomp on it until she was sure it was gone.

Not like she would anyways- she's much safer away

Yeah sure spiders kill and eat flies. But this is Cassandra. The one everyone fears. The one who has punished those for just standing in a place she didn't like. Cassandra will 100% kill this bu-

...Where'd it go?

-

A loud yell and crash indicated to you there was some trouble going on. Putting the duster down you quickly followed the sounds of crashing and cursing. Hoping to stop whatever bloodbath was going to happen now.

Rushing down the hallway it became clear on the voice belonging to Cassandra- yelling out curses of all sorts furrowing your eyebrow you picked up the pace. What If it's something serious. Opening the door you stiffened a laugh Cassandra sat on a table holding the chair like a weapon twirling in circles screaming for an unknown reason

"Lady Cassandra what are you doing on the table?" She stopped. Turned and looked at you the unusual fear in her face was gone in a blink of an eye. As if she wasn't just waving a chair like a manic. Like she isn't scared'

An odd thing to have seen on ANY Of the ladies. Your not to sure how to make of it

"Nothing maid" Cassandra snarled out putting the chair back tense. As if caught red handed "what are YOU doing here?!" She roared out the usual flare gone. Now it's come clear something. Is wrong. Something has spooked her. With how her eyes watched all around her as if.. looking for something

You hummed bowing carefully to her as you have practiced before dealing with her and her.. quirks. "I heard a scream. I came running incase you needed my he-" "HELP FROM SOME MAID?! YEAH. ME. IM FUCKING CASSANDRA DIMITRESCU. I NEED NO HELP" she cut you off

Squeak

Blinking, you watched in awe as the once fearsome woman who harmed you and everyone else for anything, even as small as a cough. Squeaked. Cassandra Dimitrescu squeaked. And to almost completely ruin the image, you knew of her clung to you. A maid. As if you were to protect her... but from what?

"DON'T JUST STAND THERE. KILL THE FUCKER" she snarled in your ear cowering behind you face pale of fear or embarrassment? You weren't to sure- eyes following to where she pointed you blinked now utterly confused

"..a spider?" You hummed without a thought kneeling down to the little creature, allowing it to climb your hand, ignoring the uttered gasp of horror behind you. "..my lady. To dispose of this, you'll need to open a window for me, " thanking Mother Miranda for the hot weather. Letting it free you turned watching her over exaggerate how you 'touched the disgusting monster '

"I..didn't expect you to be afraid of a spider.." clearing your throat straightening once you saw her all to familiar glare "its alright to be.. I mean. I'm the same way with snakes.. scary creatures.. its normal"

Cassandra was quiet for the longest time before grumbling, "Tell no one. I'll gut you if you do." She snarled out face would flush if possible. "..yes.. I am, " you hummed in thought once more. It made sense to you. Giving she can turn to little flies which spiders? Eat

"I won't tell a soul~" bowing once more to her before being shooed off by her. You almost feel closer to her in a way. But you won't let your guard down of course. It would but a end to you.

#cassandra dimitrescu x reader #cassandra dimitrescu #resident evil village #resident evil #resident evil x reader #what if i write a part 2 involving a snake?/j #HELP

[fallenclan]

Have been thinking about Scorchstar "Goldenflare is my best friend and deputy I trust him with my clan :) fuck Sunwish though" a LOT recently. She is making me insane.

Like. I think her hatred of Sunwish is very much founded on the basis that Sunwish KEEPS FAILING, at least in Scorchstars eyes. They lose Morningbloom, and that's her best friends mate! She needs someone to blame!! And then that hate keeps growing until HER mate dies and obviously that isn't Sunwishes fault but isn't it just so much easier to blame her?

This awful medicine cat who can't do her job? Who hurts their clan instead of healing them? Who fails to collect herbs without getting herself attacked?? Wouldn't it be better if Scorchstar got rid of her? Especially since Sunwish liked Goldenflare a tiny bit, and that...cannot have sat well with Scorchstar, who probably is pinning all of her bitterness on Sunwish at this point, and doesn't want the person she hates and probably views as incompetent to fall in love with her deputy.

The worst part is she isn't a bad cat up until that point! She's an incredibly loyal cat with a lot of grief, and I think if she hadn't lost her clanmates things could have been very different for her and Sunwish. Maybe they could have coexisted. Maybe Sunwish could have saved her lives, when the time came.

Anyway. Scorchstar apologist 4ever, etc (-🧶)

ohhh this is such an interesting take,,, see i always saw it as more of a "sunwish was forced into the position of medicine cat and was always bitter about it which caused a lot of arguments between them" type of bad relationship, and thought maybe Scorchstar killed her bc she was getting older and more senile and maybe Sunwish said something out of line about Nettlestem? but reading this you are actually super correct bc Sunwish did fail at a lot of stuff!!! granted a lot of her 'failures' were more of a thing that like. Nobody could help. like Morningbloom and Nettlestem dying for example. but yeah i think a lot of failures were probably due to her just Not Having A Mentor to teach her how to do her job?? i mean i assume she had at least a little help from the other clan's medicine cats, but they can only spend so much time helping her when they have their own clans to look after. i wish i could go look and see if Scorchstar and Morningbloom were close bc tbh i cannot even remember at this point. I'm pretty sure Scorchstar grieved her so I assume they were?? but yeah i think Scorch definitely blamed Sunwish for that death especially. i think Goldenstar even blamed her for it a bit at first, but I also think he matured a lot after Morning died so he probably came to his senses rather quickly

but yeah. very interesting take!!! for sure a lot to think about here as far as grief and blame go, and ur right they certainly had a hand in the murder. much to think about much to think about.

#fallenasks #yarn anon #sunwish #scorchstar

[xaytried]

Dan Heng x Depressed Reader

self-Indulgent idk what im doing bro. first fanfic ever??

not proofread!! 1.4k words

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

The day you had begun as it usually does. Being woken up by your cat at 6 in the morning, even though you had gone to bed at 3 am. You should have learned your lesson by now. Why do you still choose to go to bed so late, knowing damn well your cat would wake you up with the sun. 

It was hopeless trying to go back to sleep after getting up to feed the cat, so it might as well be productive right?

Your idea of productivity was different from others. For most people that meant maybe checking their email or cleaning up a little. For you though, it meant feeding yourself and taking your medication. Things most people don't think twice about, but the hardest part of your day. Your boyfriend knew this. He usually got up around 6, not because of the cat. He’s always been a productive and curious man. He gets up early and takes care of himself without any issues. That's not to say that he doesn't have his problems, but even he can admit that he doesn't have it nearly as difficult as you do. 

You get up and don’t even bother getting dressed, it was impressive enough that you even got up in the first place. It’s just another extra chore. You’re not going anywhere today anyway. The only thing you have today is online, and surely your psychiatrist won’t be able to tell you don't have pants on while on the video call. 

You make your way downstairs and on arrival, your lovely boyfriend, Dan Heng, greets you with a gentle smile, as he does every morning. 

“Good morning, darling.” He looks at your exhausted expression, a little worried that you look so worn out despite having just woken up. But he knows how awful your sleep schedule is. You honestly don't know why he still even wastes his worries on you.

“Good morning.” You reply.

You make your way across the living you into the kitchen. The medication you take requires food before you can take it. Supposedly you'd get sick if you missed this vital step, but you have never risked it. The last thing you wanted was to puke all your expensive medication down the toilet. Unfortunately though, you never really found anything appetizing, not ever. 

“I made you a breakfast taco, it should be in the fridge.” Dan Heng's voice startled you.

“Oh, okay… Thanks.” You make your way over to the refrigerator.

Dan Heng watches you. He watches through concerned eyes. It makes him sad that you always seem to wake up feeling absolutely nothing. No motivation or anything. And it's not like your sad or anything like that. It just hurts his hurt seeing you suffer. 

Ever since you first met him you've been very open to him about your depression, but once he moved in with you it's been more apparent. It's just not fair. It's not fair that a beautiful and kind-hearted individual such as yourself struggled so fiercely to function. You never had energy, you were always tired and your body constantly ached. 

He watches you take your pills every morning. This has got to be the fifth anti-depressant you've tried and it makes his heart ache to see you get absolutely no relief. It's like you're immune to everything you try. All he can do is be here for you, but he wishes so deeply that he could do more.

You slowly eat your breakfast and take your pills, standing in the kitchen for about 5 extra minutes just to stare at the remaining water in your glass. When you were little you used to always drink chocolate milk with your breakfast. That was too much effort now. You zone out, staring at your water, thinking about how much things have changed.

Your mother used to call you a “ray of sunshine”, her “sweet baby”. You never lost that kindness from your mother but it seems you certainly lost yourself. These are things that only Dan Heng can see in you now though. And no matter how hard you tried you could never see it in yourself. If it was the middle of the night and the sun wasn’t awake to mock you, this certainly is something that would make you tear up. But you physically couldn't cry right now. 

Your thoughts are interrupted by your boyfriend's arms wrapping around your waist.

“You okay?” He asks, chin pressing against your shoulder as he speaks. 

“Yeah.” You reply. Which is the truth. Nothing is ever exactly wrong, it's just never right. This is just how things always are. The cause of your depression was a chemical imbalance, there was nothing that could be fixed. So overall you’d say you’re pretty okay.

“Are you sure?” He lets out a breathy laugh. “You’ve been staring at that water for quite a while.”

You give him a soft smile. It’s not often your serious boyfriend lets out a laugh, but it seems even he knows the power his joy has over you. Coming over here and letting out a laugh into your ear, it’s enough to help you push forward for today.

You turn around, now facing Dan Heng, his hands now resting on your hips while you lean against the counter. Before you started dating him you would never have guessed how important physical touch was for him, he had always been so distant, wanting nothing more than to lock himself in another room and isolate himself for hours. 

Dan Heng certainly preferred to be alone, but ever since he met you he realized her much more enjoys being alone with you. Moments like this, when the world is still and it’s just the two of you, with some peace and quiet. That’s what he lives for. 

You were tempted to speak but then Dan Heng let out a sigh and rested his head on your shoulder. You let your concern show by moving your hand to his back, but you knew that if he wanted to talk he would. Perhaps right now all he needed was some quiet.

After a minute or two of silently rubbing Dan Heng’s back, he spoke. “You know you can talk to me right?”

You have nothing to talk about.

“I love you, I would love to listen, I would love to support you.”

“You’re already my biggest supporter.” You let out a giggle, hoping it would soften the mood a little more. 

“I want to help.” He’s more serious than ever.

“You do help, baby. More than you’ll ever know.” Your comforting words also help to comfort you. It was true. Even before you started dating Dan Heng had been your best friend and biggest supporter. Honestly, without him, you don’t even know if you’d still be here. But you don’t tell him that. He doesn’t need to know that you ever think of not being here. 

He stands straight up again to brush his hand across your cheek and that's when you can see it. His tears. There aren't many but he is without a doubt crying.

“Hey, what's wrong?” You ask him, no longer leaning against to counter, hands cupping his face, deep concern wavering in your voice.

“Y/N, you’re the most loving, kind, most perfect soul I’ve ever met, so why is the world doing you so wrong? You deserve to wake up every day full of excitement, full of energy, ready to take on the day. You deserve to smile, to laugh, genuine ones. Genuine smiles and genuine laughs.” Your eyes start to water, you continue to hold onto his face as tears roll down his cheeks and onto your fingers. “You deserve to be happy, Y/N. It’s not fair. You do so much good for so many people, for me. You make me smile, you make me happy, you make me feel alive. I don’t feel like I need to run anymore because I have you. So why must the world put you through so much pain?”

You had never seen him like this. 

“Shhhh…” you hush him and he looks at you, no longer breaking eye contact to speak. “I’m happier than I’ve ever been because of you Dan Heng,” you promise him. “I finally feel loved.”

After a moment of looking at you, he kisses you. Its soft and warm, a kiss to tell you that he’s not going anywhere and that he’ll be with you forever. 

With him… you’ll get through this.

#dan heng #honkai star rail #dan heng x reader #hsr x y/n #hsr dan heng #star rail

[canyoufucksoniccharacters]

CAN YOU FUCK BIG THE CAT?

Yes, him. Big The Cat. From Sonic.

Hey, I ain't judging. Here at CYFSC Inc. we give every character an equal fair shot, and Big is no exception. So let's get into it, shall we?

Alright, starting off, let's look at the archives. And by archives, I mean something that only exists through internet archives- the Sonic Channel ages! As you've likely gathered from the last post, I have a certain disdain for these. But, We're trying to look at official sources and canon material here, so let's start there.

He's... 18? Allegedly? That's odd. For someone so subdued, well put together, someone who loves fishing like nothing else in the world, someone who has seemingly the largest amount of physical strength out of anyone we know in the entire cast (Not counting transformations or power-ups), you wouldn't think he'd be listed as the same age as Rouge. Let's see, where could this have-

OH GOD FUCKING DAMN IT

Every time, without fucking fail. As stated in the last post, this manual holds no ground whatsoever. The ages were never listed in the original Japanese manuals, not a single time. And, again, there is no confirmation whatsoever that there was any communication between whoever wrote these and Sega. Reminder, this manual said that Eggman is a feminist and a romanticist. It is a malignant cancer that will be mentioned around 12 times, give or take, because of how absurdly inaccurate it is, and how much it influenced the age listings we had before they were removed from Sonic Channel.

So, an age of 18 that has been unlisted since October of last year, which is sourced from one of the most god awful yet wordy manuals the series has ever seen. Yeah, I don't buy it.

Look at this. This thing is not 18. This is not a young queer man getting his footing and entering adulthood. He has his own little hut in the jungle that he presumably made himself, he's an expert at fishing and seems to hold more knowledge on sea life than any of us could ever hope to match in our entire lives. He's absurdly strong, able to lift entire cars and boulders over his head as seen in SA1 with very little effort. Sure, Knuckles can crack boulders into pieces with one punch, but can he deadlift them? I don't think so. Big is strong. Real strong.

This is a bear. Not the animal, the gay archetype. This is a massive man who could bend you over his knee and crush your skull. But, he won't. He'll just fish. Fish, as it would seem he's been doing for years with his little frog friend. Don't let his childish way of speaking fool you, he's just like this because he's kind of a hermit that rarely ever leaves his little jungle hut for any reason other than fishing. Rest assured, this man is at MINIMUM about 20 years old, maybe even around 30. Really, you could go anywhere with him so long as you're not approaching the realm of old age.

Big The Cat is, by all accounts, able to consent. You can fuck him. But...

Would you fuck Big The Cat? Could you fuck Big The Cat?

This isn't a matter of if he can consent. He can. That much is obvious. But could you? Would you look at his 6'5/200cm figure, his seemingly impossible weight of 617 pounds, and think yourself physically able to? Would you be able to look into his deep cream yellow eyes while you fuck him? Whether Big is a top or bottom is beyond my jurisdiction, but neither gets you off easy. It might get you off, but it won't be an easy time. Fucking Big is not for the faint of heart. It's a commitment. I can't stop you, I have no intent of trying to stop you.

All I can do is wish you good luck.

You will need it.

STATUS: BIG

#big the cat #sonic the hedgehog #STATUS: FUCKABLE #STATUS: BIG

[star-girl69]

I Loved You Like the Sun

a/n: oooo i’m so mean for this cliffhanger i’m sorry but anyways i hope you all enjoy!!

also i think i’m going to change the title of this book bc i’m not really feeling it anymore tbh and this book has evolved so majorly from my early drafts and plot so i think it’s time for a change tbh. if anyone thinks this is an absolutely horrible idea pls do let me know

warnings: incest, swearing, violence, death, mentions of knives, mentions of sex, kinda sex ig, tell me if i missed anything!!

Daemon Targaryen x Rhaenyra Targaryen x Fem!Reader

Chapter Thirty Three- Blood on Her Hands

—-

Three Weeks Before Viserys’ Death

“Sometimes,” your husband whispers, soft, into your hair. “I wish that I could be better for you.”

You almost laugh. “I like you the way you are.”

“Yes, but-”

“None of that,” you scold, and smile as you pull back, straddling him, hands flat on the smooth panes of his chest to steady yourself.

His hands trail up and down your arms, tilting his chin down as he moves one hand to play with the edge of your nightgown, now ridden up by your hips. It’s lace, gold, and he stares at it appreciatively.

“But…” he continues, ignoring you.” I do not deserve your or Rhaenyra’s love.”

“Why?” You frown, hands smoothing up and down his chest, and you feel his hips buck below you. You ignore it, hellbent on getting an answer out of him, now.

“I am not a good man. I would send the entirety of Westeros into a doom, for the two of you. For our family, for our blood.”

“Romantic,” you muse, and he smiles.

“Very.”

His hands move to hold your hips, go to move you, but you remain where you are, despite his best efforts.

“What? You won’t let your husband fuck you?”

“You are the one who brought up this foolish self loathing.”

He sighs, rolls his eyes, clearly eager to move past this conversation.

“All I am saying is that we need you. Rhaenyra and I are too similar, you know that. We burn too hot. We need you, so we will not doom this entire continent.”

“Aw,” you coo, genuinely touched by his words. He rolls his eyes as you lean down to kiss him, chaste, and he chases you for more. You straighten your spine. You admit, it is nice to see him chase you. “I love you, Daemon.”

“I love you too, sweetling, more than anything. Can I please fuck you now?”

But the door opens before you can respond, and Rhaenyra jokingly clicks her tongue at your compromising position.

“Starting without me?” She smiles, and you beckon her over with a syrupy sweet smirk and a hooked finger.

She answers your call, crawling onto the bed to kiss you. Chaste, just a peck, before she lays down, propped on her side, a lazy elbow under her.

“Oh, don’t let me stop you.” She smiles, like a cat, teasing, and you throw your head back to laugh when Daemon nods eagerly.

They need you. You smile as Daemon pulls you down to kiss him.

—-

Present

When the novelty wears off, and your tears stop, you pull back to look at Jace. You place your hands on his face, tears long since ebbed, and he smiles wobbly.

“Are you real?” he asks, and it’s almost as if he’s a boy of two and ten, young and curious.

“Yes,” you smile, laugh, until it drops. “Rhaenyra and Daemon sent you?” You frown, and he steps away from you, back.

“Perhaps they did not.” You have half a mind to scold him, but you know what him being here means. If he got in, he can get out. And take you with him.

You remember their faces, their names, and your resolve grows.

“We- we have to go, quickly.”

He nods, and you brush past him to make for the door. He hesitates behind you.

“I… I was going to kill them. I was.” He admits, suddenly, as if seeing you had made the vengeance fade and guilt take its place.

You smile, softly. “I have done worse.” The lives of Blood and Cheese are on your hands, you know. You doubt they will ever be clean again. You constantly yearn to wash them, scrub them raw, but you do not trust the water of the Red Keep. This place has poison seeping through the walls.

You vow, now, the promise actually attainable, that you will wash the blood from your hands.

He stares at you for a moment, like you are a whole new person. He plants his feet and walks toward you, giving you a dagger.

—-

“We’ll go through the tunnels. But-” His mother nods, as Jace brandishes his own dagger, safety now on the forefront of his mind. He no longer has to avenge his mother. He has to protect her.

She presses a kiss to his temple just as he opens the door, revealing an empty hallway. He grabs her hand, warm, comforting in his grasp, guiding, grounding.

He leads her the way he came, down the hallway, through the secret door in the wall, down a never ending staircase. Sunrise is not for many hours and darkness will cover them, but still, he can tell his mother is eager to get home. He isn’t, so much. Not eager for whatever chores his parents will dole out on him as punishment.

Selfishly, he hopes Rhaenyra and Daemon will be too entranced in Y/N. Treat him like a hero for bringing her back. They’ll trust him with more. He will prove himself if he brings her home. He will bring her home.

Not only because he needs to approval, but because he missed her. Rhaenyra and Daemon missed her. The younger babies cry more, Luke and Joffrey miss her. He knows that tensions between his parents and Rhaenys and Corlys were tense. A part of the formers could never forgive the people they believed had parts in their children’s death. In their eyes, Y/N was absolved of those crimes. She did not even know them, not then, so it was easier for them to produce a kind word for her.

Besides, Baela and Rhaena enjoy Y/N. She is not their mother, but she is a kind word and a warm hand, understanding and sweet. She is not a replacement, but more so a salve.

The staircase ends, and the corridors are now wide enough to walk side by side. She whispers, asks about the family, and he does not lie to her. He tells her how the Blacks are lost, how Cannibal has reverted to his old ways, how Daemon and Rhaenyra are despondent. How the rest of the children miss her, need her, like he does.

He thinks he sees the sheen of tears in her eyes, but she only grabs his hand and squeezes, says she is so excited to be home. He asks her about Helaena, about Blood & Cheese, and she tells him, slowly, letting tears fall that make his heart twists.

As they near the edge of the passage, it only makes his anger grow. How dare his uncles do this to his mother?

But he pushes it aside as they reach the door. He takes a deep breath, and opens it quickly. She waits behind him, door still concealed in the shadows. They are the gardens, close to the courtyard. There is a side door that is rarely patrolled- they will get through that way. Sneak through the city, to the gates, make it to the woods as morning rises. Fly away on Vermax, quickly, so as his uncles cannot follow them.

His boots sink into the soft dirt as he steps out into the light of the moon, glancing back and forth. Empty. He lets out a breath he did not know he was holding.

Faintly, he hears his heart beating. He realizes it started beating again as soon as she said his name.

He turns, a shameless smile on his face. He can barely make out her figure in the shadows, but she is still there. He raises his hand to beckon her out as a hand closes upon his shoulder.

—-

You swear the man came out of nowhere. One second Jace was looking at you with the brightest smile on his face, the next his face was filled with fear. You clutched the dagger in your hands.

For your children, you would take a million lives.

(A part of you understands Daemon, now.)

You watch as the man, a non-descript guard, spins him around.

“You shouldn’t be here, boy.” He hisses, and you almost want to move out of the shadows, when Jace stutters out some fake apology and explanation.

The man studies him closely. Brown hair, brown eyes, faint Valyrian features, fine red and black clothes.

“You’re- you’re one of the princes.” The man breathes, and Jace’s face hardens, and just by the pure resolve in his face, you almost do not come forward. It seems as if he’s got it.

Until the guard rips the dagger out of Jace’s hands, after stomping on his foot, grabbing him by the bicep and hissing in his ear.

“I know many who would like to have their fun with a prince,” he says, just loud enough so you can hear.

You see the fear on Jace’s face. He glances at you, fleeting, not wanting to draw attention to you. But you see the pure terror in them.

And suddenly, it is as if you are possessed.

You storm out of the shadows, hidden door slamming beside you, raising your knife to the man and slashing.

He drops Jace, who lands on the ground unceremoniously, while the guard shouts in pain.

“You fucking bitch!” He shouts, making a move for his sword, hissing something else, but it is Jace’s voice you hear.

A desperate shout, a plea, an underlying beg.

“Kill him!”

—-

taglist:

@wondergal2001 @akiraquote @a-lil-bit-nuts @anginoguera @thatkinkylesgirl1 @stitchattacks @honeypillowsblog @kaloafd @blackhoodlea @softtina @wallace02sblog @tetgod @hotd-fanfic @rxscpctals @iramagnus

#daemon x rhaenyra #daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen x reader #rhaenyra targaryen #rhaenyra targaryen x reader

[ladycatofwinterfell]

If you are still looking for ideas, could you do a story about Catelyn and Ned attending a wedding and Cat asking Ned what the women said to him. Embarrassed Ned and amused Cat!

I have to say I loved this idea, so sweet and fun. Enjoy!

Ned flinched when a vey cold hand found it’s way into his. Before he had time to look at the person her laughter rang clear. A lovely laugh, made just a little hoarse by wine and hours of talking.

“Did I frighten you, my lord?” Catelyn asked, smiling.

He could not help but be a little irritated. His heart was beating unnecessarily fast and hard in his chest.

“I didn’t hear you over the music” he muttered.

It was so loud, even louder than it had been the rest of the night. The Queen Took Off Her Sandal, The King Took Off His Crown. What an awful song. Though suited to the occasion.

Catelyn let her other hand join the first one, clasping his hand with the both of hers. So cold despite that it was rather hot inside the crowded hall. Her hands were always cold, he had never been able to grasp why.

Together they looked towards the mass of people moving towards the open doors. A group of women pulling a young, auburn haired man with them. And a group of men carrying a fair and rather frightened young woman.

“Are you not going to join them?” she asked.

Even as she said it her grip on his hand remained firm.

“I would rather not, my lady.”

He was perfectly content staying where he was. He had little need to undress that poor girl, shout bawdy things at her and try to get a look of her naked body. He remembered his own bedding as if it had been just the day before, that was more than enough.

“Would you rather stay here with your old wife?” she continued.

Her tone was teasing, although he could hear something else under that. Perhaps just a little bit of worry.

“I am older than you” he reminded her.

Not by much, not even two years, though he was still older than her. If she was gathering dust then he had been covered in it a long time.

Catelyn leaned her head against his shoulder. When she did so he could turn his head and kiss the top of hers, so he did that. Buried his nose in her hair, breathed deeply.

Robb and his new wife had disappeared out the doors, still people were flooding out after them. For the bedding or for something else. The music continued playing, the song had yet to be over. No one took notice of him and Catelyn where they were standing, after the bedding had been announced they had turned invisible.

“Do you remember our wedding?”

It was fresh in his mind, had not faded even a little. Though the question came as a surprise. They rarely spoke of their wedding because what was there to say? It had not been a joyous occasion.

“With what took place before it I do not think I can ever forget” he mumbled into her hair.

War and death and grief had been the most important guests at that wedding.

“No, I suppose not.”

With a sigh Ned raised his head again, forcing himself to be a little more proper. Catelyn did the same, and once again turned to look at him.

“What did they say to you, my lord?”

“Who?”

“The women. When we were to be bedded, what did they say to you?”

That he had not thought of since it happened. There had been very little reason to. He had not wanted to. Did Catelyn truly want to know that?

He cleared his throat.

“You wish to know what they said to me before we were bedded?”

He must have misheard. The music was still loud, much louder than it had to be.

“I do.”

She was smiling. How could the thought of that make her smile? He could not remember that with any joy.

“I don’t remember.”

Catelyn made a grimace at him, clearly not satisfied with the answer.

“You do” she insisted.

When he turned her head away to avoid looking at her one of her hands left his and instead reached up to his cheek. Gently, but not without a certain force she turned his head and locked eyes with him.

“Not a word” he sighed.

Catelyn’s thumb ran across his cheek.

“Are you flustered?” she asked.

“No.”

“You are, I can see through that face of yours. What did they say?”

“I don’t remember” he repeated.

There was no need for her to know that. All that they had said meant nothing. It was an unfortunate part of the custom.

Catelyn’s blue eyes were sparkling with amusement. She was beautiful, it made her even more beautiful.

There was a moment of silence between them, then she stood on her toes. Clearly she meant to whisper something to him, so he leaned down slightly to be able to hear what is was she had to say.

“You are worse than they were, my lady” he snorted after having heard her suggestion.

“So my lord does remember” she said triumphantly.

Seeing no other way to get her quiet he caught her lips in a kiss. It was hard to speak then.

#catelyn stark #catelyn tully #ned stark #ned x cat #my drabble #and now there will be wlw nedcat :)

[iamvegorott]

Ink Month 2023 Day 16

Spirit

"Listen, I don't mean any trouble." Chase held his hands up in surrender. "Just, you know, wandered a little too far." His smile trembled. 

The one time he walked off somewhere without one of the others, he stumbled into an underground magic gathering. He could tell one wasn't a magic user since they aimed a gun at him while the others pointed a glowing hand, something he’d seen Marvin do countless times before during fights.

He really wished Marvin was here right now, but he was alone.

Chase needed to get that gun. If he could, he'd be in a somewhat better position.

"How did you 'accidentally' get here?" One of the magic users asked with a sneer.

"Trust me, I know less than you with that." Chase shrugged.

"Oh, bull-" The user's curse turned into a yelp of shock when one of the walls got blasted in, turning the drywall into projectiles.

"What-What was that!?" Another magic user asked between coughs.

"Where is he?" A deep, demanding voice echoed in the room.

Chase didn't look to see who owned the voice. He saw that the gun got dropped and the person was trying to get debris out of their eyes. 

This was his chance. 

He dove across the room, fumbling his feet, hands, and gun until he finally got a hold of the handle and turned to face the others, weapon up and finger ready on the trigger. But, once he witnessed the scene before him, he lowered the gun and could only watch in awe.

Marvin glided across the room. His feet barely brushed the ground as his whole body got engulfed by a glowing green aura. The aura has a cat shape toward the top as if Marvin had the aid of an otherworldly spirit. His eyes shone an even brighter green, hands doing the same as he threw them aside and caused the attacking magic users to fly into the remaining walls.

"Where is he!?" Marvin demanded again, showing no mercy as he went through all the users until only Chase remained. "Chase!" He perked up at seeing the other man. The aura faded away, as did the extra glowing. "There you are, darling." Marvin walked to Chase and held his face, giving him a once-over for any injuries. He was very glad to see none on him.

"That was so hot," Chase said with a chuckle, eyes soft and loving.

"When am I not?" Marvin giggled, kissing the tip of Chase's nose. "Let's go home, shall we?"

"That was so hot." Chase could only repeat that phrase. 

"Adorable." Marvin rubbed Chase's cheeks with his thumbs before teleporting them away.

Someone else can clean the mess he left behind. 

#trickshot #ink month 2023 #veggie ink month #veggie writes

[hazyshadeofwintyr]

Dreamling Week Day I: Meowpheus

I am so normal about Dreamling, I can't even begin to explain just how normal I am! Truly! So normal!! The thought of them doesn't send me into a fluffy fluff spiral or anything!!! I promise I'm normal about them!!! Why are you walking away??? Wait—

Anyway, happy Dreamling Week one and all! :3 I don't think I'll write something for every day of it, but here's my first contribution. Expect it up on AO3 at... some point? Enjoy some tooth-rottingly fluffy gay shenanigans. Fuck segues, you don't need segues when you have the Dreaming.

WC: 1,479

----

He was just on the edge of sleep, thoughts drifting off somewhere far away from him. They swayed as a sea, cycling like the tide, the steady in- and out-rush of water and sand. Hob could nearly hear it, if he just listened a little closer— 

A weight leapt onto Hob's bed, waking him from his half-doze. He blinked blearily through the darkness, registering a shape that looked an awful lot like a housecat, only fuck-off huge. A pair of onyx eyes that sparkled through the dim room met his, glowing with distant starlight—the sort that had become nigh-invisible in modern London, so not a reflection or trick of the light—which tickled something at the back of his mind. "Dream?" he mumbled. 

The cat settled beside him, just within his reach. It tilted its head at him. Good evening, Hob Gadling. 

"What're you doing here?" 

Do I need a particular reason to visit a friend? Dream teased, cocking his head. 

"No, it's just—" Hob yawned, cutting himself off. "I'm not used to seeing you without a reason, is all." 

Dream stretched, a low purr rumbling through the bed. Am I bothering you? 

"Not at all." Hob extended a hand, fingers brushing against night-dark fur so soft and feather-fine he could barely feel it. Dream didn't move, so he dug a little deeper, scratching the top of Dream's head. The same bone-deep purr rattled up his arm as Dream leaned into Hob's touch. He was significantly more accepting of touch as a cat than as a... whatever he called that almost-human shape that had graced most of their visits. "I'm not going to make for very good conversation tonight, I'm afraid." 

Then it is fortuitous I did not come for conversation, hm? Dream flicked an ear in a half-joking gesture. Sleep, Hob Gadling. Rest well in my presence.

Hob was, belatedly, glad that Dream had appeared to him in this form—the thought of his hands bruising that marble flesh made his head do all sorts of things he couldn't process. The cat was different—there was no temptation to lose himself in stormy eyes or to kiss the delicate skin in the hollow of Dream's throat. He had spent centuries without even the least sign of reciprocation, but the more frequent visits of the previous six months left him starving in an entirely different way than usual. No, he decided, brushing a knuckle against the warm skin at the base of Dream's ear, the cat was a distraction most welcome. 

He fell asleep with surprising ease for sharing a bed with a large, unfamiliar cat who just-so-happened to be his oldest friend (were he more awake as the words passed his thoughts, he'd chuckle with only the slightest bit of mirth). The deep, soothing purring of cat-Dream didn't hurt, either. It invited sleep, drew it in as though putting him on a sea with his blankets as a wave. Hob wasn't really sure if it was part-and-parcel of Dream's whole thing or not, but the question died like a candle as he faded into unconsciousness. 

They were strolling through an indistinct blur of a park, the sun bright but not burning, each of them holding a cone of soft-serve ice cream. "You must truly wish to see me, Hob Gadling," Dream commented in a voice that had a quality not unlike gravity. His appearance also seemed much more—vibrant or saturated would be the wrong word for how little colour there was about him, but the whites seemed truer, the blacks more absolute. Yet he still blended beautifully with the gentle greens and blues of their surroundings. 

Hob was more awake then he had any right to be, but his mind remained a little sluggish still. At least he could tell he was dreaming. "Is— is this because you were with me?" 

Dream shook his head, the slightest hint of what might be a smile teasing his lips. "No. And I am still with you, in the Waking world. You are the one who called me here." 

"I'm... sorry?" Hob tried, unsure of what one should say in such a circumstance. He wondered if anyone else had ever been in his place before—then dismissed the thought as quickly as it came, a painful pang of jealousy in his heart. His relationship with Dream was still too fragile, still too brittle to test its boundaries. Hob could wait, if he truly had to, for Dream to show some sign of reciprocation; he could also survive millennia on the hope alone. God only knew he'd survived the last few hundred years with little more than hope, at least partially for his strange—and, until recently, nameless—friend. 

Either Hob was showing more than he intended of his feelings, or Dream is just in his head, because those starry eyes softened. "You have no reason to apologise. It is a pleasure to spend time with you." 

"Well, at least the weather is lovely today."  

Dream glanced up at the sky. "Yes, it is," he agreed. 

Hob noticed that his ice cream had yet to melt and tasted it. Tension he hadn't realised he'd been holding disappeared. It tasted like vanilla ice cream, yes, and good vanilla ice cream at that—but beyond that, it tasted of all the times he'd shared dessert with a lover, every hot summer day spent holding hands with somebody he'd loved, every stroll in the park talking about everything and nothing. He closed his eyes and let the flavour wash over him. When he opened them, he found himself sitting opposite Dream at a terraced café, no longer holding ice cream. Instead, his hand rested on the table. 

And Dream's hand rested on his. 

Dream himself remained as impassive as ever. "I find that the weather is fair when I visit you," he mused, lashes beating in slow motion. They were a butterfly's wings, snowflakes falling, a rainbow materialising through scattered droplets of water. 

True romantic that he was, Hob couldn't shake the jolt of joy in his stomach when Dream continued to allow their skin to touch. He wondered how long it'd been since any mortal had been allowed to touch his (his? since when had Dream ever been his?) Dream Lord. "It's been good to see you more frequently, too. And to finally know your name, after all this time." 

"I have come to realise that you deserve a great many things you may never receive," Dream said, "and I feel it is my responsibility to give you whichever of those are in my power." He fell silent for a moment before moving his hand to entwine his fingers with Hob's. Another small smile graced his lips. 

"Is this one of them?" Hob asked, swallowing. 

"Yes and no. You have been an invaluable companion for many years, despite my distance and reluctance to admit it. In this sense, I am merely returning the favour." Dream tilted his head, much as he had as a cat, an unfamiliar sparkle in his eyes. "While I have never paid particular attention to your dreams, I have always been aware of them." 

"Oh," said Hob, the statement sinking in, "oh." His face flushed and, if this were a conversation with anyone else, he would've pulled his hand away to cover his face. Dream's touch simply felt too rare to forego, too precious to lose. "I'm, um. I don't— don't know what to say. Please forgive me for seeing you in that light?" In his defence, Hob hadn't known who or what Dream even was for the first six hundred years, had no idea that his Stranger would be privy to those fantasies. 

Dream—laughed. He actually laughed, the bastard. His laugh was, at most, a dry chuckle, but it was worlds more expressive than Hob ever expected to hear from him. "Hob Gadling," he said, half-smiling, eyes full of care and mirth and secrets and stars, "I am the King of Dreams. Were I displeased, or uncomfortable, with your fantasies of me, they would be well within my ability to stop." 

"You don't mind dreams where I—?" Shag you silly, Hob finished in his thoughts, far too embarrassed to speak those words out loud. 

"You were right, one hundred and thirty-three years ago. I was lonely, and I was too proud to admit it—which, I have come to realise, is exactly why I was so lonely. Only recently have I become aware of my own such... personal flaws." 

"So you'd forgive my being so forward as to..." There was no longer a table between them, only a step that Hob closed with relish. They were so close their chests nearly touched, a breath—though, Hob noticed, Dream didn't breathe—between them. He remained hesitant as he put a hand to Dream's waist. With a smooth, too-fluid motion, Dream did the rest and gardens bloomed glorious behind Hob's eyes.

#Dreamling Week 2023 #Dreamling Week #dreamling #fanfiction #this one goes out to the sadman server \m/_ #sandman #what makes you so special? #fic@wyn