Another AngelHusk comic….BUT CHRISTMAS
Another AngelHusk comic….BUT CHRISTMAS
Angel Dust: I love you, Husk.
Angel Dust: Why won’t ya say it back?
Husk: *dramatically lifts head, cups Angel’s cheeks, and looks him straight in the eyes*
Husk: It back.
Angel Dust: Oh, fuck off!
Holiday parties are the perfect place to try to get the cute cat demon to sleep with you. As long as he’s drunk enough…
Just some cute shipping shit
Okay so bear with me here:
According to the wiki/Viv, Husk died in the 1970s, somewhere in his 60s.
Angel dust died in 1947 from PCP overdose, somewhere in his 30s.
So, if take the 1970s and subtract 1947 from it, we get:
— 1979-1947 = 32
— 1970-1947 = 23
Which means Husk died between 23-32 years after Angel died, sometime in his 60s.
So we can further extrapolate:
— 60-32 = 28
— 69-23 = 46
Husk was anywhere from 28-46 years old when Angel died in his 30s; they lived in roughly the same time period.
o’course (sorry for mostly going monochrome here but idk i think it’ looks nice)
Hell on Wheels is a Racing AU for Helluva Boss and Hazbin Hotel that @alien-esse and I have created (asks will be hosted on her account). In it, Charlie opens her own race track in the hopes of normalizing clean racing. The Helluva/Hazbin cast have their own roles to play in this (very) loose narrative. There’s more to be established for this AU so stick around! Posts will be alternated between my account and Alien’s. We’ll be using the tag #HellOnWheelsAU
Trailer by @ilikehats1
We’ve also made a playlist to go with it (mostly 80s rock, because racing ahaha. Please enjoy it so you can relate to your boomer dad)
When Husk proposes to Angel he has to get three rings.
One for every left hand Angel has.
Husk putting his arm around Angel (sorta).
let the kitty rest
Goddamn this little whore for pushing all his buttons just the right way!
All day the little fruitcake had been throwing himself at him. Constantly brushing against him, leering at him, making vulgar gestures and propositioning him. He’d handled it as best he could, mostly by ignoring him.
It had worked. After finally realizing the cat demon wasn’t gonna bite, he’d donned some sluttier clothes and hit the town, hoping some other sad schmuck might be interested.
Evidently they had been.
He’d come home with his hair a mess and make-up smeared. His stupidly short skirt hiked up on one side and his jacket unbuttoned, showing off his stomach and the push-up bra he wore underneath.
He’d been snorting something. The dusting of powder on his clothes giving him away. His eyes were lidded and blown wide.
He was a hot mess.
“Hey, Husky. How’s about makin’ me somethin’ good ta drink, hm?”
He had leaned against the counter, his fake tits pressed tight between his body and the freshly polished wood. Those couldn’t be just fur, could they?
“Fuck off. Ain’t you suppose to be sober?”
The spider grinned, laying his head against his hand.
He had a point there. With a grumble, the cat demon poured a fruity mixture into a martini glass. He topped it with a cherry before sliding it to the already drunken/drugged arachnid.
He watched Angel smile and give him a wink before popping the cherry in his mouth. He sucked it first, laving the fruit with his tongue and lips before popping it in his mouth.
He chewed slowly, moaning around it, before sticking his tongue out to show off a perfectly tied stem. He was drooling slightly.
“Why are you like this?”
The spider laughed.
“Personally, I think it’s cause my old man smacked me around for tryin’ on my sister’s dress. But hey, who knows. Maybe I’m just lucky!”
And he just dropped that shit on him like it was nothing. Maybe to him it was.
He gave him another smirk before turning up the drink and downing it in eager gulps. He sighed as he carefully placed the glass down.
“Not bad, sugar. Got anything stronger? I’ve had shit that tastes good all night. I want somethin’ that burns goin’ down, know what I mean?”
Husk groaned, rolling his eyes as he reached under the bar for what he considers to be ‘The Good Shit’.
Angel stays mercifully silent as he watches Husk pour him a shot of whiskey. He takes it and nods, turning it up and downing that too in one swallow.
He moans, leaning back in his seat as the warm burn slides down his throat. The Amber liquid putting more delicious heat in his veins to go with the PCP and sex.
Husk didn’t know the little twink liked his own personal brand of poison. He’d assumed he only liked the fruity, girly shit.
Color him surprised.
“Keep em comin’ baby.”
The cat chuckled, reaching for a few different bottles this time.
“Didn’t think you knew good booze when you tasted it.”
Angel guffawed, placing a hand on his ample chest.
“Bitch, I grew up in New York during the Prohibition years. I smuggled the good shit day in and day out. You think I don’t know good liquor?”
Another good point, he supposed.
“I just figured a lil queer like you preferred Sex on the Beach and Red Sangria type shit.”
Angel giggled, leaning on the counter again while batting his eye lashes.
“Oh, I love Sex on the Beach. A good Malibu Cocktail is just heaven when I’m in the mood. But sometimes, I just needed somethin’ a little harder. Somethin’ manly that hurts when I swallow. Sometimes I crave that burn of liquid fire lightin’ through me, ya know.”
Fuck. The way he said that while twirling his finger around the shot glass. Almost made him feel something.
“Whatever. Shut up and drink this.”
He passed him a scotch glass with a mixture of bourbon and amaretto. Angel knew what it was immediately.
“The Godfather? Really? You couldn’t think of something a little more original?”
The cat snickered.
“You’ve had this before then? Shouldn’t have any trouble drinkin’ it, in that case.”
The spider grabbed the glass daintily, taking a long, hard sip.
“Course I’ve had it before. I’m Italian. Every bartender in Hell thinks they’re bein’ clever when they hand me this.”
He finished his drink fairly quickly, motioning for something different.
“C'mon, Husky. Show me something new!”
The whore wanted something different? That’s fine, he knew something everyone loved.
With a flare he only added when he was showing off in Vegas, he grabbed another shot glass, a pint glass, and a few different bottles.
He filled the pint with Irish stout. The top foaming heartily as he turned the spigot. He then poured Irish cream and Irish whiskey into the shot glass, before dropping the whole thing into the pint as well.
He smirked as he shoved the concoction in front of the spider demon.
Angel stared at it for a moment before picking it up. He seemed to hesitate before carefully turning it up and drinking.
His eyes closed as he slipped on the drink, face crinkling as he decided to finish it in one go. It took him a little longer, but he finally set the glass down with a cough.
He looked debauched.
“Goddamn! What was that?”
Husk smiled, a smirk filled with sharp teeth and a glint in his eyes.
“They call that The Irish Car Bomb. Not bad, huh.”
Angel licked his lips, taking a stand while holding the bar.
“I might have found a new favorite. That’s some strong shit, Husky. Feel like I need a good fuck after that.”
Husk made a vague noise at that, waving the spider away as he started cleaning up.
“You better go find someone then, cause I got shit to do. Go sleep it off, ya harlot.”
Angel laughed, turning and heading for the stairs. He’s had his fun, and Husk had humored him. This was a good night for him.
“Thanks for the drinks, baby. I’ll have ta repay you sometime.”
Husk didn’t answer. He just continued putting away bottles and cleaning glasses. At least, that’s what Angel thought.
In actuality, Husk was watching the sway of his hips as he made his way to stairwell. His skirt was still hiked up on one side. As he tripped and stumbled onto the nearby back of the couch, Husk became privy to another bit of information.
Angel wasn’t wearing panties.
He must have lost them during his escapades. His pert little ass on show for a split moment, before he collected himself and kept walking.
Husk felt something he was usually too drunk to feel. For a few seconds, for the first time in years, he felt lust.
He watched the feminine demon disappear up the stairs. His exposed chest and wrecked appearance looking completely different to the cat for the first time since he had unwillingly arrived here.
He looked fucking sexy. He looked like the promise of a good time.
And Husk, for the first time in a very long time, was sober enough that whiskey dick wasn’t an issue.
how come drunk kitten is allowed to go around naked but not him??
One year clean? One year together? One year since they met? You be the judge! Either way: they celebrating!
Back at it again with some Hazbin Hotel!!
I’m not sorry
Me looking at fanart for ships that I love.
Sketchy Sketchy Sketch Sketch!!!
I think it’s pretty obvious who my faves are…
~I’m HH trash now and there’s no going back~
(Plz make fics I’m fucking starving over here!!!)