#lighthearted fun

Cats are like potato chips; you can’t have just one.

Summary: When you call Aventurine to share the news that one of his beloved catcakes has given birth to a litter of tiny, adorable kittens, you expect a simple reaction. However, Aventurine's response is anything but ordinary.

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Fluff, Comedy, Slice of Life, Pets(Catcakes), Domestic Life, Lighthearted Fun, Situational Humor, Silly Situations.

A/N: THIS IS SUCH A SILLY AND CUTE IDEA 🤭 AND BEFORE Y'ALL COME AFTER ME I KNOW CHURIN HAS 3 CATS SO PRETEND TWO OF THEM ARE PARENTS OR SOMETHING!! KEEP THOSE REQUESTS COMING!! 🫶💖

You stood in the middle of your living room, phone in hand, staring at the sight before you with a mix of disbelief and amusement. One of Aventurine's beloved catcakes, a plush-like, mischievous creature with large golden-rimmed eyes and its distinctive trash-can-lid "hat," had just given birth to a litter of tiny, squirming mini-catcakes. Each one looked like a little version of their mom—black and pudgy, with miniature trash can lids that tilted adorably to the side.

You dialed Aventurine’s number, giggling to yourself at how ridiculous this was going to sound. The line picked up almost instantly, Aventurine's rich, confident voice greeting you.

“Darling, I hope this call means you're missing me terribly.” he said, the smooth charm practically radiating through the phone.

“Oh, I am,” you chuckled. “But that’s not why I called. Um...one of your catcakes just gave birth. You’re a...catcake dad now!”

There was a brief, stunned silence on the other end. You could picture him, his eyes widening in a rare moment of surprise, his usual air of confidence momentarily thrown off balance.

“Wait…my catcake did what?” He sounded somewhere between bewilderment and amusement, a laugh bubbling up in his voice.

“Yep! A litter of tiny catcakes! They’re like little carbon copies of the original but with even tinier trash can hats.” You tried to stifle your laugh but failed miserably, imagining how Aventurine must look processing this news.

“Well, I’ll be damned. Little risk-takers already multiplying without my knowledge…” he murmured to himself, though you could hear the faint trace of excitement creeping into his tone. “Tell me, darling—how do they look? Are they as devilishly charming as their old man?”

“Oh, absolutely! Little round black puffballs with the cutest, most intense eyes.” you said, leaning down to gently pet one of them as it squeaked. “And they’re already wiggling around, so I think they inherited your, uh, energy.”

“Mini me’s, indeed.” Aventurine’s laugh was low and surprisingly affectionate. “I suppose I’ll need to come over and meet the little scoundrels. And...maybe celebrate with you, seeing as you’ve helped bring my legacy forward. How does dinner sound?”

You grinned, heart fluttering a bit at his charm. “Dinner sounds perfect. But be prepared—they’re already trying to climb out of the box I put them in.”

“Oh, they’ll fit right into the family, then.” He let out an indulgent sigh. “Well, be a dear and keep them from getting too rowdy. I’ll be over shortly.”

As you hung up, you could still hear Aventurine's amusement lingering in his voice. You smiled to yourself, turning back to the tiny creatures that had somehow managed to turn a perfectly normal day into something absolutely unforgettable. Only Aventurine’s pets would come with this level of drama.

"Oh no, Angel, we are NOT listening to THAT cassette in THIS Bentley!"

Crowley was emphasizing his words in a dramatic way, to show that he meant what he said. He even gestured as well, which would have been comical if Crowley didn't sound so enraged.

"But why, dear? Aren't you tired of listening to Queen all the time?" Aziraphale inquired in a much more calm manner.

"YES!" Crowley shouted in agony.

Crowley hit the steering wheel, then howled. He held his hand and rubbed it, looking even more upset.

"In the beginning it was fine, but when "she" got a crush on Freddie's voice, there was no going back. You know everything gets changed to Queen after a fortnight. If I was in the business of selling counterfeit Queen albums, I'd be loaded. I am not that kind of person and if I could pay her to NOT change my cassettes, I would." Crowley explained. He had stopped rubbing his hand. "In fact, I can't even miracle or tempt this car into fixating on any other singer!" Crowley shook his head, a look of momentary defeat on his face.

"Crowley, the Bentley likes me, and when I drive her by myself, I can listen to anything." Aziraphale bragged. "Problem is, you treat her like you do your plants."

"Angel, I have the greenest, hardiest plants around! Know why? They know what they should be doing and do it!" Crowley was getting impatient with the conversation.

"I bet if you talked sweetly, they would be even more luxurious and leafy." Aziraphale sounded smug, as if he'd ever grown a plant before.

"Look Angel, never you mind about my plants! The argument is whether you will be allowed to play your cassette." Crowley pulled his glasses down to his nose and glared at the Angel, but Aziraphale remained calm. He was going to talk to the Bentley, as Crowley was being ridiculous.

"Bentley, girl, would you enjoy some new music? I have a cassette which has never been played before." Aziraphale felt optimistic when the Bentley made her engine purr.

"This can't be happening, my car is listening to you. Mind, she is a demonic car, at that." Crowley folded his arms and grumbled while Aziraphale loaded "Buddy Holly's Hits" which wasn't particularly long, since he had died young in a plane crash.

Buddy Holly's voice played over the speaker, and Aziraphale waved his hands. Crowley was having a bit of a fit, but turned on the gas anyway, and off they went.

Neither spoke as the music played until Crowley looked over Aziraphale who was smiling away and slightly dancing.

"Charmer." was the one word he let slip from his lips.

"Beg pardon?" Aziraphale asked, even though he knew what Crowley had uttered.

"You're a charmer, you would make one Hell of a demon with that charm and your looks. You could snatch the Queen's soul, except someone already did long ago." Crowley turned sharply, and Aziraphale frowned.

"Crowley, I'm an angel, we can charm as well. I mean, I charmed you-didn't I?" Aziraphle smiled a mile wide.

"Angel!" Crowley raised his voice, then sighed and gripped the wheel. He knew that he'd do anything for that angel, didn't even have to tempt him . Aziraphale, again sat smug as the scenery flew by. He often wondered if this was like being in a jet plane, as fast as they went.

Aziraphale reached and turned the cassette over, the Bentley again purring. He then began to sing and Crowley lost it. He slammed his foot on the gas and they went even faster.

"What's the matter, the 1950's were fun, don't you remember? I thought you liked rock and roll?" Aziraphale shrugged as he whispered the lyrics to the song.

"The 1950's were filled with squares!" Taking his hands off the wheel of the car he made the outline of a square with his fingers, which made Aziraphale scream and grip his heart.

"Do you want to get us discorporated?" panic filled his voice as he gripped the seat.

"Relax, you are safe with me, you think I'd let my angel get hurt? Nope, even though you are playing that ridiculous music. Crowley wrinkled his nose up as if he smelled garbage.

"Too many rules, to many white picket fences….and Elvis! People still claim to see him as if he is a demon. Perhaps he is, as he would be no angel. The 1960's, however, now that was a decade. "Groovy" even, and "Swinging London!" it was Crowley's turn to grin.

Aziraphale wasn't hip to all Crowley was saying, but he remembered Crowley's clothes and the tartan thermos of Holy water he gave to his friend. He had no idea what became of it, only that Crowley was here and grumpy as ever, just as he liked him. The cassette ended and Queen popped back on. Crowley sighed as now everything was back to normal.

10 April 1945 Dick wrote to DeEtta:

In his letter to DeEtta on the 16th September 1945 Dick apparently knew plenty about love, especially about being lovesick:

It was supposed to be a quiet Friday evening, but when Alex’s roommates convinced him to tag along to the Delta Sigma party, things escalated quickly.

By midnight, the house was buzzing with music, laughter, and a crowd cheering on a raucous game of “King’s Cup.” The deck was nearly gone when Alex drew the last king — the rule card. He hesitated, and that was all it took for the circle to erupt with shouts of “DARE!”

Someone suggested a round of “Strip Challenge,” a tradition where the unlucky king-drawer had to remove an article of clothing every time the crowd shouted “Go!” as he completed a series of dares. Alex, already three beers in, agreed with nervous laughter.

First came dancing on the coffee table, then singing the fight song of a rival college. The crowd loved it. But by the final dare, he had only one item left — his jeans. When the music cut, everyone cheered as he sheepishly slid them off, leaving him in nothing but his briefs.

It comes from when my partner was watching a really sad scene in a game, where a beloved character was dying a tragic death. She was crying openly, it was sad.

So of course, I showed her a picture of a pumpkin carved into --actually, it's easier just to show you.

We only have room for 7 more Spirk-tastic writers in our wildly popular Live Long And Pinup Reverse Bang! 

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Heartbreak.

Tears.

My soul in tatters.

I clearly remember the penultimate episode of Bad Buddy and the wholeass week of anxiety and mourning and clowning I AM NOT READY FOR ANOTHER ONE but at the same time I have no self-control and watching both eps next week demands a lot of that.