I Cant Be The Only One Who Writes For Hudson Vega On Here

I can’t be the only one who writes for Hudson Vega on here😭

Dear Florists and Botanists, if a singing carnivorous plant shows up on your doorstep during the total eclipse of the sun….

THEN KILL IT. FUCKING KILL THAT SHIT. DO NOT FUCK AROUND. KILL, MAIM, GET THE WEEDKILLER.

My cat has been staring into the distance and making biscuits for a n h o u r now my son what is wrong with you

Lucifer x autistic reader(PLATONIC!!)

I am autistic, this is based on my experience with autism. Reader is ment to be Lucifer’s kid so this is obviously platonic. To my knowledge, Lucifer is autistic. If it’s not canon it’s my headcannon.

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Today was hard. You had to talk to a lot of people. Like A LOT of people. And on TOP of that, your headphones died half way through the event. When you finally arrive back at home, you curl up in bed. You don’t have the energy to make yourself a drink so you just climb under the covers and have a good cry. You wernt sad per se, you just had a tendency of expressing your feelings through your tear ducts. Mid-cry someone knocks on your bedroom door. “NO” you shout, instead of something more appropriate for the situation. You didn’t mean to be rude, obviously, but you just didn’t have the ‘battery’ for it. “I have a weight blanket and some water for you…I could leave it out here if you want-“ “no bring it in here.” Your father, Lucifer, walks in with a folded up weighted blanket(patterned with ducks of course)and a glass of water. “You don’t have to talk, I just wanted to make you feel better.” He unfolds the blanket and lays it over you. He then places the water on the side table next to you. “I don’t know exactly what helps you but this helps me so- I mean you can just ask if you need som-“ “thanks dad.” He smiles, feeling accomplished. “I appreciate it, but can you leave?” You look up at him, thoroughly cocooned in the weighted blanket. “Oh yeah, sorry!” He kisses his fingertips and presses them against your forehead, leaving and closing the door behind him.

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A/N: I hope you enjoyed! Again, this is based on MY OWN EXPERIENCE WITH AUTISM…thank you for reading! Constructive criticism is encouraged:)

Angel dust x cook reader

Readers pronouns: you/ yours (but really he/him)

Could potentially be seen as a part two to the last “angel x cook reader” I made but you don’t need to read it to understand this one.

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It’s angel’s birthday. Of course people are making a big deal out of it, he’s like hells version of the Kardashians. Lots of flowers, cards and creepy jars filled with unidentifiable substances. Charlie bought him a new outfit, husk took him out on the town, and alastor…have you met the guy? Seriously, you expected him to get something for angel? A hardy “HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MY EFFEMINATE FELLOW” will do just fine, thank you. You decided to make him a cake. Nothing too fancy, granted he doesn’t really have all that much of a sweet tooth. Chocolate cake with pink frosting, and in white it says “happy birthday Tony” on the top. You put a fondant bow on it to make it look more…angel. He walks through the door, tipsy. “Oh, angel perfect timing!” You turn to him, smiling. “Whaaat? You starten’ ta miss me, handsome?” He giggles, finding it amusing how he towers over you. “Well yes but- uh- THATS BESIDES THE POINT.” You interrupt yourself, trying not to seem as nervous as you are. You wernt nervous about angel, or him liking the cake. You were nervous about the fact you wrote “Tony” instead of “angel” or “angel dust”. How would he react? Would he cry? Would it be happy or angry? Or sad? “I uh…I made you a cake!” Damnit. Stop stammering. This wasn’t like you at all! Your like some main character of a self instead fan-fiction or something! ‘I- uh- I-i-‘ SPIT IT THE FUCK OUT MY DUDE. Angel hugs you, shoving your face in his floof. “Thank you so much! Where is it? I want cake!” He makes grabby hands with his bottom two arms. You let out a muffled “can you let me go?”, your arms dangling at your sides. “Ohhh yeah sorry~” he slurs out, letting go of you. You exit the main lobby to retrieve the cake, holding the plate it’s on firmly with both hands. “Well, here it is! Uh…happy birthday.” You hand him the cake. For about a minute he just looks at it. ‘Happy birthday, Tony.’ Not angel dust, Tony. Anthony looks up at you, tearing up a little. Not just because he’s drunk either, but because he’s thankful. You MADE him something, for fucks sake. With HIS name on it. Not his stage name, his NAME. “Are you alright-?” He wipes a tear with one of his hands. “Yeah, I’m alright.”

Happy birthday, Anthony

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A/N: it’s angel’s birthdayyyyy>_< I’m so normal about him. As usual, constructive criticism is encouraged(my reqs are open;])