#cuddles and chaos

[capybaramurdock]

Ba-Bum (just a soft lil blurb)

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Plus Size!Reader Word count: 841 Summary: You both agreed to stop trying. The vitamins stayed. The calendars disappeared. And then, one night, half-asleep in his lap, Matt freezes. He hears it. A third heartbeat.

Warnings: + Emotional mentions of infertility struggles + a pregnancy reveal + soft crying + supportive partner behavior + a little chaos + a lot of love 🥹

Available on ao3 as well! 🫶🏻 https://archiveofourown.org/works/66714571

— ♡ — ♡ — ♡ — ♡ — ♡ — ♡ — ♡ — ♡ —

You both agreed to stop trying.

It had started full of hope and excitement—calendars, vitamins, whispered promises in the dark. But the months began to pass, and one test at a time slowly turned into four or five.

Maybe it was too early. Perhaps they were false negatives.

But nothing ever changed.

There was only one moment when your tears couldn’t be contained. You and Matt had been putting away a few little onesies...ones you bought too early, too hopefully. You told yourself it was just for now that you’d be getting them out again soon.

But as your fingers folded that soft cotton, the quiet truth pressed down hard: maybe that moment just wasn’t coming.

Matt didn’t say a word when he heard your sniffles and could taste the salt in the air from your tears. He just wrapped himself around you from behind, arms tight, forehead pressed to your shoulder—his way of apologizing when he didn’t know how to fix it.

You had that moment. And then you let it go.

Not the dream, but the pressure. The grief. The weight of disappointment. You kept taking your vitamins, more for your own health than anything else. You stopped counting days. Stopped checking apps. You started dancing in the kitchen again. Tickle fights on lazy Sundays. Laughing under the covers.

Not thinking about timing or tests.

Just loving each other in that quiet, peaceful way that doesn’t ask for anything in return.

Months passed like that.

And one night, you were curled up together on the couch—a rerun murmuring softly in the background. Your head rested in Matt’s lap, his fingers gently combing through your hair, the other hand drifting across the soft curve of your belly, his usual rhythm when he could tell you were close to nodding off.

Then—

Ba-bum.

He froze.

Ba-dum.

It wasn’t yours.

Ba-bum.

Not his.

Too fast. Too small.

He held his breath, hand stilling. Then, slowly, carefully, he laid his palm flat against your stomach. It was probably just in his head. A fluke. A fridge hum.

Until—

He swears it got faster.

As if it were reacting to his touch.

His voice came out hoarse.

“There’s a heartbeat.”

You stirred in his lap, blinking blearily. “Huh?”

“Honey, there’s a—” he swallowed hard. “I can hear it.”

You jolted upright. Your hands lifted defensively like you were about to defend against an intruder.

“Where do you hear it coming from?”

Matt barely stifled a laugh, but his voice was serious when he said,

“In your body, sweetheart.”

His hand returned to your belly.

“Right here.”

You squinted at him.

“Matty…you’re messing with me. It’s gotta be the microwave or the fridge again.”

He shook his head, brushing his thumb gently over your shirt.

“No. It’s in your body, baby,” he said softly. “I’m pretty confident about the jurisdiction.”

You turned toward him, searching for something—anything lighthearted in his tone. But there was no teasing there. Just that focused stillness. The kind he only wore in the courtroom…or when everything was about to change.

And then?

You launched off the couch.

“Where are you going?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

“To get a damn test!” you called over your shoulder, feet pounding down the hallway. “Even though apparently you’re the test now!”

Matt groaned and buried his face in his hands, exhaling like it might help calm his racing heart.

(Spoilers: It did not.)

By the time you were digging through the bathroom drawer like a woman on a mission, Matt was pacing in the living room like a man possessed.

Hands on hips. Arms crossed. Hands in his hair.

“Do we even have a pediatrician?”

“Matthew—!”

“Okay, okay! I’m calm. Totally calm. Should we baby-proof the windows? What kind of car seat do we need? Should we get one of those fancy air filters for the nursery? Do we have a nursery?? Where are we even putting the— ”

The bathroom door creaked open.

You stood there, hand trembling as you clutched the test to your chest. The other wiped at your eyes, but he could still hear the catch in your breath—feel the shift in the room, soft and full of something he hadn’t dared hope for.

You didn’t even need to speak.

Matt’s whole world went still.

And then, he dropped to his knees.

Gently, so gently, he slid his hands around your waist. Pressed his cheek to your belly. Breathed like he was praying. Like this moment was sacred.

“Hi there, little heartbeat,” he whispered, voice thick with emotion. “Guess we’ve got some catching up to do.”

You cradled his head to you, the tears slipping freely now as laughter bubbled up too. Something inside you...something that had been waiting and waiting...finally exhaled.

And Matt?

He just stayed there, whispering to your belly like he was already in love with someone he hadn’t even met yet.

Because he is.

Because he’s Matt.

And this? This is the moment everything changes.

— ♡ — ♡ — ♡ — ♡ — ♡ — ♡ — ♡ — ♡ —

[aventurineswife]

Y’know the “My partner got turned into a cat” trend? Quite a few people wrote it awhile back, and while I was glazing ideas for Sylle and Noah… I think I have a request.

Just as it reads, I wish for a fic written with Sunday, Noah, and whomever else of your choosing. With a reader who got transformed into a cat. 🙏 Surely they’ll find a solution and return to their human form... Even better if they’re like snuggled up together then boom! Back to their regular figure unexpectedly.

A Cat’s Gaze, A Lover’s Soul

Tags: Sunday x Reader, Noah (OC) x Reader, Aventurine x Reader, Fluff, Comedy, Cat Transformation, Mild Angst, Established Relationship, Snuggling & Cuddling, Protective Behavior, Magic Gone Wrong, Unintentional Chaos, Sudden Transformation, Found Family, Lighthearted Shenanigans.

Warnings: Minor Violence, Implied Past Trauma, Touch-Starved Behavior, Mild Possessiveness.

Soft light filtered through the grand halls of the Astral Express as Sunday delicately traced his fingers over the rim of his teacup. It had been a week since you’d mysteriously transformed into a cat—a small, fluffy creature. Despite the bizarre circumstances, Sunday had remained composed, though you couldn’t miss the gentle melancholy in his gaze every time he stroked your fur.

“It seems the universe has a cruel sense of humor,” he murmured as you sat curled up in his lap, your tiny paws kneading the fabric of his coat. His feathery wing twitched behind his ear, a subtle tell of his unrest. “Even in this form, you seek comfort.”

You meowed pointedly, earning a soft chuckle from him.

The situation was frustrating, but if nothing else, being a cat meant you could curl up against Sunday’s warmth, nestled beneath the folds of his long scarf. You weren’t sure if it was your imagination, but each night you spent snuggled against his chest, his arms wrapped protectively around you, his hold grew just a little bit tighter. He wouldn’t admit it, but he feared losing you entirely.

Then, one evening, as you rested against his shoulder, his quiet voice barely above a whisper, you felt an odd shift—a warmth rushing through your limbs, a sudden weightlessness that made you blink.

And then, just like that, you were back in your human form—wrapped tightly in his embrace, limbs tangled as you pressed against his chest. His breath hitched, eyes wide as realization struck.

“Ah,” he said, his voice laced with an unreadable emotion. “...I suppose I should let go now.”

But for a moment, he didn’t.

The darkened halls of the Afterlife Judiciary/Palace of Justice echoed with the rhythmic clicking of boots. Noah sat lazily on his throne-like chair, his sharp teeth glinting in amusement as he flicked your tail with a gloved finger.

“You’re absolutely pathetic like this, you know that?” he purred, a sadistic glint in his one visible eye. You swiped at his hand in protest, earning a chuckle that sent shivers down your tiny feline spine.

Despite his cruel words, he was oddly possessive of you in this form, carrying you around in one arm or letting you perch on his shoulder as he doled out his merciless justice. He claimed it was just convenient, but you knew better.

At night, when he thought no one was watching, you’d find yourself nestled against his chest, his fingers buried in your fur, his steady heartbeat lulling you to sleep. He’d call you a nuisance in the morning, but his actions told a different story.

Then, one fateful evening, he was cradling you absentmindedly while reading through case files when a sudden surge of energy rippled through you. A blinding flash later, you found yourself sprawled across his lap, back in your human form, hands gripping his coat for balance.

Noah blinked.

Then, slowly, a wicked smirk spread across his lips. “Oh? Now that’s interesting.” His fingers traced your jaw, sharp and teasing. “Guess I’ll have to figure out new ways to keep you on my lap.”

“Now, now, little thing. If you wanted my attention this badly, you could’ve just asked.”

Aventurine lounged on an opulent couch, a glass of rich crimson wine in one hand, while his other traced circles on your feline head. You huffed, swishing your tail as he laughed, his golden accessories jingling with the movement.

He had taken your transformation with surprising ease, treating you as if this was just another high-stakes gamble the universe had thrown his way. You’d caught him betting with himself about when you’d turn back, whispering outrageous odds under his breath.

But despite his teasing, he never once let you stray too far. You always ended up curled on his lap, his warmth radiating through his elaborate suit as he hummed in amusement.

Then, one evening, as you stretched across his chest, his fingers lazily stroking your back, you felt the familiar warmth take over. A rush of sensation overwhelmed you, and suddenly—

You were human again.

And somehow, still sprawled across Aventurine’s lap.

He arched an eyebrow, a slow grin creeping onto his face. “Oh? Didn’t think you’d be so eager to stay close, darling.” His fingers trailed up your spine, amusement flickering in his eyes. “If you wanted to be in my arms so badly, you could’ve just said so.”

You smacked his shoulder. He only laughed.

[hmsdoodlin]

(96) Cuddles!!!

[dogseast]

Shadow the ultimate Zorua form

[azadrithaanatheme]

Is Wormzi a thing in CC? If so, how’d N and V take it?

Oh, Wormzi is absolutely going to be a thing - it isn't called "The Crawling Chaos" just for the Lovecraft reference ;)

It's not going to be just Uzi either - there's going to be so many worms in here. Worms for days.

As for how everyone reacts:

At the start of the story (which picks up about three-ish months after the show, for context), the Dapper Trio all know that Uzi has been having corporeal instability issues, and have been trying to help her work through it/figure out what's causing them and how to stop it (Uzi discovering the inefficiencies in N and V's designs and deciding to do something about it is an outgrowth of this). Critically though, no one knows Uzi can become a worm yet, including Uzi herself - she suspects she can do that, but isn't really keen on testing those boundaries and is mostly just trying to figure out why she randomly glitches out and explodes into a cluster of crab claws and peering camera eyes sometimes.

Then some Shenanigans happen and it becomes pretty clear that she's going to need to start testing those boundaries in order to get a handle on her new robo-divinity and prevent said shenanigans from happening again. It's all very "repression is not the solution you think it is."

N takes this in stride pretty much instantly - this is just another aspect of Uzi's eldritch space magic, and come android hell or high water, they're going to figure it out together. Boy is nothing if not committed. Plus, well... he'd be lying if he said he didn't think Uzi having the power to turn into an eldritch centipedal machine god was kind of hot.

After all: we are, as a fandom, united by the sacred wisdom that N would still love Uzi if she was a worm (and vice versa).

V, in contrast, is more paranoid. She's terrified that something will go wrong and either the Solver remnant/ghost/thing in Uzi's mind will take over, or worse, in trying to contain that remnant, Uzi will go somewhere she can't come back from and become something even worse than the original Absolute Solver (an Uzi without any morals, driven by nothing but all-consuming hunger - terrifying). But, critically, as difficult as it is for her V's actually going try to voice her concerns this time instead of trying to gaslight gatekeep girlboss her way through things. She's let herself be ruled by her fear before, and it emphatically did not end well, and she's learned from that. She cares about these goobers more than she'll ever admit trusts N and Uzi, and she's going to stick with them and help out in her own way. And probably complain about it when they do something dumb or remind Uzi to eat again - but hey, someone has to be the sensible one in this polycule found family. If nothing else, she can keep Uzi from trying to experiment with eldritch monster transformations inside the bunker.

Uzi, for her part, agrees with V's paranoia (now that V is actually trying to explain herself). As rad as having a thousand extra arms and a bunch of holoprojector eyes can be, this is something she really would rather have left in a box and not touched ever. Unfortunately, she can't just leave it in a box, and Uzi "Godeater" Doorman isn't one to back down from a challenge. She's been presented with a new problem, and she's going to solve it, one way or another.

Plus, there's a surprising number of fringe benefits: among other things, it turns out eldritch machine god is actually surprisingly comfortable to sleep on (if you're a robot, anyway).

[warcats-cat]

Frat Boiz

Summary: The first Friday night of every month was pizza and movies night, and the second Sunday of every month was movies and snuggles (aka date night). There were two reasons for the necessity of this distinction of dates, and their names were Apollo and Dionysus.

A/N: Hello my darlings! (hehe) This one is short and sweet; I've been holding onto for a bit. It's actually the second one I ever wrote (and happened to be Halloween at the time, hence the movies) and I've been debating posting it as always, but I want to bring in more Apollo and some of the other Olympian Siblings **kicks pile of wips under my bed** so I do hope you guys like their dynamic. Thanks as always to @lickoutyourbrains for being my lovely beta, although they may not remember this one actually... 😅

Also, the end note will link to my reference for Apollo, which I am using with credit from the artist. Please let me know if I need to add any other tags, and as always, ENJOY!!!

Read on Ao3 Here!

The first Friday night of every month was pizza and movies night, and the second Sunday of every month was movies and snuggles (aka date night). There were two reasons for the necessity of this distinction of dates, and their names were Apollo and Dionysus.

You’d never admit it to anyone, but you really did adore how close Hermes was with his brothers. He played a lot of pranks on the other Olympians, and many of them gave back as good as they got, but the three of them specifically (and occasionally Artemis when she was feeling especially devious) were engaged in a millennia-old prank war. Your apartment, thankfully, had become neutral ground, after an incident involving a beer keg being poured off of your apartment's roof like rain (thoroughly soaking Hermes and missing you by millimeters) and rather upsetting your landlord…

You could still remember Dionysus laughing: “Get it? It's a golden shower!”

But that also meant that that's where the other two wanted to hang out with the ‘middle child’, because Hermes spent so much of his free time with you instead of with them. Which led to “pizza and movies Friday” - your way of keeping the three of them on relatively good behavior when inside your home.

There was a handsome leopard skin coat hanging by your door at the moment, ten different bottles of alcohol on the coffee table, two empty pizza boxes on the kitchen table, and three ethereally beautiful men passed out on the floor of your living room.

You smiled, gently nudging Apollo’s shoulder with your foot. He grumbled in response, otherwise unmoving.

The four of you (Artemis was out with her hunters this weekend on a girls trip, probably bathed in blood by now) had sat down for scary movies for the spooky season; starting with the original Dracula, partially to laugh at, and then moving forward through the years. Scream, IT, Nightmare on Elm Street, Texas Chainsaw Massacre, and a bunch of other Halloween movies had all passed by in a blur until it was three-thirty am and you were half on top of Hermes as he had pushed his brothers off the couch so you could comfortably lay down. You’d forced them to take a break about midnight so you could watch Little Shop of Horrors; you weren't a wimp but you weren't really into the gory stuff either, and since it was your apartment and you’d bought the pizza (and three bottles of wine), they had to acquiesce.

Some time around three am they all started speaking exclusively in old Greek. Which was great.

You nudged Apollo again, which he grumbled at some more and rolled away from your reach, onto Dionysus, who kicked in his own unconscious state and almost knocked over the coffee table. Damn divine strength. Hermes was right under the couch, face down. The wings where his ears would be twitched a little as he slept and your smile widened; you loved playing with his hair and - when he allowed it - petting the silky soft feathers. It was so interesting, the way the wings moved with his emotions; especially with you, when he was more relaxed and let them loose instead of pressed tight against his hair.

It was close to ten am, now; thankfully you'd had the forethought to close your window curtains to keep the light out, so none of you awoke to the screaming brightness alongside a hangover. You hadn't drank a lot, but you did have a headache and a bit of a dry mouth to greet you when you woke.

You weren't really sure how Hermes had fallen off the couch, since he had been behind you and cuddling you like his personal teddy bear when you fell asleep. You also weren't really sure why they'd all chosen to just sleep on the floor when there was a perfectly good air mattress in your front closet that they'd slept on before, but whatever.

Who was a mortal to question a god?

Breakfast would be nice, though…

Carefully, you climbed around the couch to get closer to the kitchen, and leave the sleeping gods where they lay. You didn't really cook breakfast that often, usually opting for pop tarts or granola bars as you left for work, but there were a few ingredients in the fridge you could probably use. Hermes left food in there all the time, anyway, and it never seemed to spoil any more.

That was also a big perk of having a divine boyfriend; groceries that didn't go bad.

Rooting around the fridge and freezer, you found a few basics - eggs, milk, cheese, various meats that were probably dropped off by one of the Twins, and frozen toaster waffles. A veritable feast of a hangover cure.

You set about making some scrambled eggs; the simple recipes were always your go-to, and none of your guests ever seemed to mind. While waiting for the pan to heat with a little butter, you popped two waffles into the toaster and grabbed your phone to look at pictures from last night.

There were a lot of terrible, shaky selfies, but also some really cute pictures you would have to print for your walls. You and Hermes cuddled together, reading something from his phone; all four of you making very dumb faces at the camera; Dionysus posing with his leopard skin coat wrapped around his hips like a loin cloth (covering much more of the back than the front,  but with the sleeves draped just so to hide the important part); Apollo and Hermes arm wrestling. One photo you sent to Artemis - the three men laying in a pile, red-faced and about halfway unconscious, hanging off the couch cushions. That was right before you’d yawned and Hermes had made his brothers move.

You heard grumbling as you cracked the first two eggs, thinking you'd might as well make the whole dozen in one go. Anything they didn't eat, you could have later for a lunch or something. The grumbling got a little louder, and you leaned back into the living room in time to see Dionysus elbow Apollo right in the face, making the sun god yell indignantly.

Oh dear. Oh well…

“Food!” You called, hoping to stop a real fist fight before it started. Hermes sat right up, both wings spread out as if on the alert, but his eyes still glazed with sleep.

“Hm?” He looked at you, sort of though you, and blinked a few times. The other brothers had also frozen mid-attack, and were now staring at you; peering from the dark living room into the lighted kitchen.

It was like three raccoons with glowing eyes watching you from a trash can.

“Food.” You repeated, as they stared. A few beats of silence later and you added on, “Scrambled eggs?”

Like the beasts they were, all three perked up, now smelling the sizzling eggs. Hermes was the first in the kitchen, being both the closest and the god of speed, and he gave you a very sweet kiss on the cheek as he began to help you cook. You couldn't complain, he was a better chef than you; and he was a much better judge dealing with the venison gifted by the Twins. Frozen chicken nuggets were more your speed…

Apollo and Dio joined the pair of you only a few moments later. The sun god stretched, showing off his bare chest and various tattoos which looked like etchings of gold set into the marble of his skin. Meanwhile, the god of wine sat at your little kitchen table, apparently having summoned champagne for mimosas.

The four of you made idle conversation; the three brothers now playing gentlemen insisted that you have the first plate of eggs and waffle, and you sat next to Dio as Hermes handed you a bag of chocolate chips from the pantry. You both had a sweet tooth - he knew you so well. Various questions of ‘how did you sleep’ and ‘how many eggs’ were exchanged. It was mostly a warm morning, and you were just happy for the company. With all four of you finally seated with your plates, more focused conversation could begin.

All three would have to leave soon; they all had jobs to be doing, whether that be on Earth or Olympus. You knew Hermes would be starting off somewhere in France picking up a package from Hera in one of her summer homes - most likely another round of Divorce papers which would be responded to with another round of apology letters. Maybe Zeus would show up in person this time.

You laughed as you showed off the pictures you took, “the three of you are worse than frat boys sometimes,” you teased.

Apollo dramatically feigned offense, “I’ll have you know I am the epitome of class.”

You flashed a mildly evil smile; “sure,” you replied, “lots of class from the man who has swirly gold tattoos on his ass.”

This comment made the sun god turn white; Hermes choked on an egg and Dio snorted mimosa right out his nose.

“Who told you that?” Apollo hissed, looking scandalized. He had several lovers who shared his home and time, and you'd met three of them so far. You grinned.

“Hyacinthus may have let it slip.” You replied. In truth, he had scrolled one photo too far while showing you snapshots of different outfits worn to some fancy event (maybe something related to the Olympics?), and you'd seen significantly more of the sun god than strictly necessary; thankfully from the back… You knew there was no malice in Apollo's actions; at worst, Hyacinth would be texting you later that his credit card privileges were taken away for a week. You’d take him out for a massage or drinks or something sometime soon, and that would restore the balance.

Dionysus laughed, his head thrown back and his eyes tearing up. Hermes was laughing as well, but took a minute to kiss you and say softly in your ear, “god I love you.” Apollo pouted, but his puppy-eyes and trembling lip disappeared as you passed him the champagne. You were certain he'd have something to tease you and Hermes about soon enough.

After a little more breakfast, along with a little more champagne and a little more banter, the three were kind enough to help you clear the table (you could deal with dishes later) and begin gathering their things to leave. You grabbed Dio’s coat to hand it to him, and he ruffled your hair affectionately and said, “next time, we’ll show ya how to party on Olympus,” before leaving - still barefoot.

Somehow that felt a little bit like a playful threat. It was certainly an intimidating thought, you were sure his parties were more wild than any college movie could depict.

Apollo smirked, took your hand, and softly kissed your knuckles, once again a gentleman. “Was my offering acceptable, Lord Apollo?” You asked playfully, referring to the eggs and previous night's pizza. He grinned.

“Acceptable, I suppose.” he replied, giving Hermes a light punch on the shoulder and saying something like “see you later, feathers,” before also taking his leave.

“Feathers. I like that nickname.” You said, as Hermes' arms snaked around you. He smiled, bright and loving, and you could see the silver in his eyes glowing just a bit.

“I'm glad you can hold your own against my siblings,” he said, giving you another kiss. You chuckled.

“Well, I have to hold my own against you, don't I?” You replied, sliding your own hands down to his waist and slipping a hand into his messenger bag. Right at the top, just inside a little pocket, was your phone, which you pulled back out and waved for him to see. He only looked proud - proud of himself and proud of you knowing him so well.

“Yes. Yes you do.” He readjusted his bag and leaned down to tighten his sandals, and you took the chance to muss his hair again, make him stay a moment longer. You grabbed his sunglasses from the coffee table while he put on his helmet, and then he was ready.

You had the rest of the day to yourself, the day off from work and no pressing errands. Maybe you would read a book or scroll on your phone. One last kiss goodbye and Hermes was gone, but you knew he would be back soon.

And right on time as you returned to the couch, your phone lit up with a text. Hyacinthus.

Your life was crazy, but you sure did love it.

-----

Check out Apollo's tattoos designed by @bambiilooloo !!! Thanks again for letting me reference your art! I *still* can't get over those swirlies 🤣🤣🤣🤣!!!

Also "three raccoons with glowing eyes staring at you from a trash can" is probably my favorite line I have ever and will ever write (/hj)

[candyswirls]

Um hi! Hope you're doing well. I love your stories of astartes cuddle piles. I saw in your bio that requests were open. Would it be possible to see more chaos space marines cuddling? I find the idea so contradictory and it's fascinating. Hope you have a good day!

Space Marine Cuddle Pile - Part 5: CSM Edition

Previous - Writing Master post

Cultists wondering why a section of the walkway is void of anyone and no one will walk through it. They barely take one step in and are met with hissing. They immediately leave to find another path. Hidden in a small recess, like sardines in a can or a clown car, man Nightlords are crammed together. Nestled into each other's embraces, gentle touches, no talking. They only need each other and their company.

The only two World Eaters in a warband have walked past each other at least three times now. They just growl and nod at each other. On the fourth time, they lunge at one another as if to attack. They don't as they embrace each other and crouch on the ground. Fuming and patting each other's backs. It's doing what it needs to.

A group of word bearers cuddle pile is like a stereotypical sleepover. Talking about what daemon they'd like to possess them. Squealing over heretical scripture they've written for their primarch or one of the ruinous powers. Mapping out new tattoos of sermons on each other's skin. Face masks to prevent their tattoos from being destroyed. The blood of sacrifices painted on toenails to help with rituals. Having a seance or games of contacting the dead. Don't forget the pillow fights.

Black legion marines are angry at a pitiful defeat. They should have been better. They lost so many supplies. They only managed to pick up a random and very cold iron warrior they didn't like much. He didn't like them either, and that was fine. They start somewhat of a pile, but it doesn't feel like it should. It's not very comforting. Suddenly, the Iron Warrior is there. He says nothing as he climbs into the pile and holds marines smaller than him. A calm grows over them..

Deathguard cuddle piles are hard to spot. Is it a regular pile of nurglings? Or is there a space marine cuddle pile hiding underneath? Grandfather Nurgle loves this new aspect the marines have brought. What better way to share his gifts than being close to those you love? He holds Mortarion like a baby when he's upset.

A Drukhari is screaming to be released from this vile torture and that these mon keigh are ruthless, horrid, and crazed. This is the most cruel and terrible thing yet. The Emperor's Children just purr, content. They will not let him out of the cuddle pile. He's like a fleshy sock monkey, and he was cold!

Thousand Son sorcerers grabbing those affected by the rubric for a cuddle pile. Once in them, their affected breatheren go limp like a ragdoll or stiff like a doll. There's still a bond within those shells of armor. Most thousand sons will also not admit to still sleeping with a stuffy or toy at night. After nearly ten milennia, they have become tattered or broken. A battle brother will do instead.

You may think that now it's time for the Alpha Legion cuddle pile. You already got it. There's been at least one in each pile thus far. Yes, it was Alpharius.

[swan2swan]

Guys you all just got Brooklynn back and none of you want to sit next to her what is this come on

[sunnydayaoe]

err scary... pet reg mind :] ouppy

[Please don't tag as ship]

[dariusaurs]

i have some criticisms of s2 but my main concern is why didnt yasammy get a kiss!!!

[fosermi]

sigh

brain wont let go of Silver, so have this doodle page

anyway, halfway through coloring the sleepy father son duo, I had the brilliant idea for an OC who grew up with this Silver on Angel Island. They are absolute dumbasses together, practically brothers! Actually, Unit Nine would sometimes comment on how they reminded him of himself and Sonic.

So yeah, Meet Guifil the Hedgehog I guess :D

here are some closeups

[hayweerc]

"Bound by Chaos" AU. Chapter 11 Spoilers ⚠️📖

Art collab with Inkletvoidz on twitter/X

[hmsdoodlin]

One of my favorite headcanons is that Heart and Mind can purr. I know it’s not physically possible but whimsy is more important to me.

Mind makes a soft, mechanical buzzing sound when he’s happy or relaxed. It might just be his internal fans but it sounds like purring regardless.

Heart just straight up purrs like a bird/cat. Soft trills when he’s relaxed and very powerful purrs when happy. He makes all those happy bird noises.

[edgyhedgie]

I can't draw kissing lmao

[cupcakewebkinz]

Accidental death by snuggles

✮ One of the toons suggested a movie night with cuddles, popcorn and blankets, and they live to regret it... Oh boy. ✮

✬ Modern AU by @soupiestzilla / @soupiestfics ✫ Caretaker Shanon au by me ✬

✯ No toons were hurt in the making of this fic - The title is a joke. It's purely wholesome ✯

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It all started with a movie night. A movie night Modern Shelly was regretting suggesting.

She was trapped, stuck in a pile of toons, unable to escape if she even wanted to. Her Vee was on the right, head on the back of the couch, fallen asleep an hour ago. Her arms lazily were wrapped around her, her arm thankfully only slightly trapped between them. She was cute, but going to regret sleeping like that. The left had Toon Shelly, curled up and holding her arm like it was going to abandon her if she let go. One thumb in his mouth, the other hand clung to her sweater. Her little head rested on her shoulder, soft, careful snores came out of her every one in a while. Her tail wagged slowly the entire time. Also adorable. Her lap was stolen by Toon Vee, the robot having loafed upon it for pets, and was silently resting as she got slowly stroked by the fossil who's lap she had taken. She wasn't asleep, but she sure seemed like it, not at all moving except for her programmed fake breathing so nobody assumed she had laid down somewhere and died. Or had ran out of battery... It wouldn't have been so bad if she didn't nyoom around like a hyperactive cat on a sugar rush when she overcharges. She was purring up a storm, antennae down, peaceful as could be. Modern Shelly just stroked her head softly, evenly, avoiding any sensitive spots on the top of her monitor as she did so. She wondered about the two toons, why they were so small, so child-like, when they clearly were adults who knew how to adult. She looked over the scars on Toon Vee's body, wondering what happened to cause them, wondering what she meant by "a rabid child bit her" when she asked about the scar on her leg, wondering why she wasn't with Veronica if she was obviously in this universe. She looked over at the hot cocoa she had left on the coffee table, now regretting that decision as she couldn't even reach it anymore, then back at the toon loafed upon her lap like some strange tv headed cat. She smiled, soon going back to slowly petting her, turning back to the TV the toon she was petting seemed so off put by earlier. A wall mounted flat screen. It was playing one of those really outdated dinosaur documentaries Toon Shelly loved to pick apart and call out the inconsistencies of. These toons were weird... She loved it though. She was starting to think of the two as younger sisters, finding their chaos - along with her girlfriend's glitter disasters - to be funny. Cute, even. She sighed as she closed her eyes, patting the top of the loaf's head, smiling at the peace around her.

It was Shanon's turn to take a photo, which she did on her outdated Polaroid she saved just for occasions like these.

A new photo was on the fridge the next day, and on the white part under the photo, in Shanon's perfect cursive, were the words "Toon Slumber Party".

It was the first time they all were together and nothing had exploded into glitter... At the price of some very sore backs from sleeping sitting up all night.

[chaos0pikachu]

his father has pneumonia, his little sister got kidnapped by her yandere uncle, he's got tetanus and his (ex) wife was a member of the mob jin xiaobao is having that only week