#I mean. I still wouldn’t be able to do it.

[l3vi4than]

I understand why people are sick of ai by now and I kinda share the sentiment as ai researcher, but

Disabled people exist. And they want to create shit too.

Someone might not be abled enough to type these 500 words — ai can ease this job for them by typing 600 words they can edit. Intellectual disabilities exist too, some people struggle with reading and writing words (for example me, I’m dyslexic) enough to hate the whole process. It shouldn’t mean I should stop writing at all. You and I both use the same “ai” technology in our daily lives within our smartphones called “predicative typing” — without it I wouldn’t be able to write a single word right. LLMs work similar, just in a bigger scale.

Someone might not be in the resource to actually commit into creative writing — because of depression, or some other underlying reason. PTSD, trauma, flashbacks, whatever else — can be overwhelming enough to drain them of all energy. But they still have ideas and implementing them, even so, is part of their healing.

If ai isn’t used to directly harm anyone, if it’s just a fanfiction written and distributed for free — why do you even care? Just walk past it if you don’t like it.

But don’t deny people the ability to create at least something. Them being honest about using ai is a good thing, not a reason to bully them

Write it shitty, write it scared, write it without a clue but don't you be so spineless and have an AI write fanfic for you.

[81pastrys]

Lando daughter where she has been fussy and upset all day with her mom and mom picks her up and she’s upset so she like hits at her like young kids do and mom is upset then Lando comes home and has to deal with it all?

A Big Fuss

Summary— Lila wakes up with the telltale signs of a cold and fusses about everything. When she doesn’t want to nap she throws a tantrum at her mum

Warnings— toddler tantrums (dramatic) ; hitting/kicking at mum ; Lando being the mean one ish

A/N— this is long so enjoy <3

Lila woke up with a mild cold and Lando insisted he stay home, but his wife refused. He had something for Quadrant and Max would understand a sick daughter. The first strike of the day was arguing over it in front of Lila.

She also wanted Lando to stay home and cried when he made his way out. “Lila, he has to go work, come on let’s take some medicine so you feel better.” Her mum said on her level while holding her back from the door as it locked. Lila thrashed and got out of the grip, banging on the door while crying.

Her mum sighed and got the little girl medicine anyway. She picked her up from the door. “I want daddy!” She shouted. Her mum sat her on the counter and handed her medicine and a water cup.

“Take this, it’ll help you feel better my love.” She cooed. Her daughter took the medicine and threw the medicine cup at her. “Okay, stop with the attitude Lila. He went to work.” Her mom scolded. Lila internalized the scolding and behaved until strike two.

Her mum made lunch but it wasn’t what Lila wanted. Lila whined and picked at the food. “I want soup mama.” She wasn’t yelling, or shouting but she did have a slight attitude. The only reason her mum made her the soup was because she was sick, otherwise it would’ve been a tantrum over the food. Lila was content with the soup when her mum served it to her.

Strike three however, was nap time. Lila quit taking naps a while back but since she was sick, her body was fighting illness. Her mum insisted she take a nap. “You’ll feel better and daddy will be home when you wake up.” Her mum explained. That wasn’t enough. A tantrum exploded and she stomped her feet, rolled on the floor, kicked at her mum.

Lila about lost it when her mum tried holding her to rock her in the rocking chair. She was thrashing and ended up hitting her mum in the face. Lila stopped immediately when she was let loose. She sat on her feet looking up at her mum, realizing what she did.

Her mum had tears building and left the room, slamming the door behind her. She needed a minute from the screaming toddler. Lila took the initiative to get in her princess bed and drifted into a nap.

“What happened?” Lando asked on the phone, already grabbing his stuff to leave. She had called him crying, Lila had been like this for a few days and he hadn’t noticed it, Lila didn’t think he knew. His wife finally had enough and broke down from it.

“She wouldn’t calm down so I tried to rock her to sleep, and I don’t know Lan, she accidentally hit me in the face.” She sniffled, hearing Lando’s car start. He stayed on the phone with her in case Lila wanted to start something else before he got there.

“She hit you?” He asked, in disbelief. His sweet, innocent, little princess, hit her mum? Oh Lando is not happy. “I’m sorry my love, I’m sure she didn’t mean to.” He heard her sniffle again.

“I know, but it’s still hard to not think she meant it, she was mad at me for trying to get her to nap.” She explained. “I think she knew because she stopped right after.” Lando pulled in the driveway and she met him at the door. He hugged her waist, not able to hug her properly from all the stuff he was carrying.

He dropped the stuff as soon as he could and held her. Leaving kisses on her head. “You’re an amazing mum, you know that?” He praised her parenting. “Lila doesn’t feel well, I promise you she didn’t mean to hurt you on purpose.” He reassured her. “If she did that’s another story for later.” He joked, making her laugh. When he went to Lila’s room she was out cold.

They cuddled and watched a show until she inevitably woke up and joined them. She emerged from the hall, curls everywhere and her favorite blankie in hand. A koala from Oscar when she was born. She noticed Lando and crawled into his embrace, settling between the couple comfortably. He lightly laughed and she just got more comfortable.

“Sweetheart I need to have a talk with you.” Lando said moving her curls out of her face. She pouted and nestled her head further into his arm. “Your pout won’t help you Lila.” He whispered to her. They finished the show and then got off the couch. Lando picked up Lila and sat her on the counter. “What happened today?” He asked, an arm either side of her on the counter.

Lila’s eyes looked to her mum and back to Lando with guilty eyes. Tears began to form as she explained. She held her koala to her mouth. “I wanted you to stay!” She whined out first. Lando shook his head at her and wiped a tear.

“No, sweetheart, what happened while you were here with mama?” He specified. Her bottom lip poked out, her famous pout that usually ends the scoldings from Lando. “She told me you did something inexcusable Lila.” He was serious now, no bullshit, ready to catch lies from her mouth.

“I didn’t mean to hit mama, I promise!” She sobbed harder now. Lando rubbed her back to soothe her. “I didn’t wanna take a nap and she made me.” She kept spewing why she did it.

“Okay, sweetheart, I need you to take a deep breath for me.” Lando mimicked a breath and she followed, a sniffle interrupting. “Can you apologize to mama?” He asked. She nodded and looked to her mum.

“I’m sorry mama, I love you.” She said through a few tears. She reached out and hugged her mum. Lando was not done though. Just because she apologized doesn’t mean she understands it was completely wrong.

“I understand you were frustrated Lila, but you can’t just kick and flail your arms when you’re mad.” Lando started. “You can hurt mama, and I don’t like seeing mama hurt.” He nodded as she listened to him speak. “If you continue acting out, you won’t be able to go to races with me, that was our deal right?” He pulled her aside before he left for testing and told her she needed to behave in order for him to get her tickets.

It was nearly summer break and Silverstone was coming up, a race they’d inevitably would bring her to, but he wanted to scare her into being good so she could go. “You don’t want to miss daddy’s home race do you?” Her mum played along, catching his words bite. Lila shook her head furiously at them.

“I wanna go daddy, I’m sorry, I won’t do it again!” She said hugging him from the counter. He rubbed her back and looked over to his wife. It didn’t take long for her cold to become worse and Lando stayed home with them when they both got sick.

I like doing requests, keep em coming

Taglist: @il0vereadingstuff

[anselbun]

Thinking about dick graysons canon hallucinations and his also very canon (though not explicitly stated) BPD today. About how he was 100% in the throes of an extended manic episode during a lot of the older titans comics from right after Jason’s death. How even in the current day he struggles so horribly with all his huge pent up feelings that are constantly changing and just doesn’t know how to deal with, but has forced himself to learn how to hide them until they blow over. He has to hide them. He has to be the mature one. He has to protect the other kids from the chaos and pain that is this life.

Dick, who has to hallucinate the child brother he barely knew because that’s the only way to cope with his death. The only way to make his brain think he hasn’t been “abandoned” by another person he cares about.

How, when Roy had to take over the titans, all dick could think and feel was that Roy didn’t trust him or care about him anymore and that none of the titans wanted him here. That he was being rejected. That they didn’t love him. That this was just like when Batman fired him as robin.

It isn’t like that. It never WAS like that. But dick does not always understand that.

As he’s gotten older, he hasn’t quite “mellowed out”. He’s still the intensely emotional, struggling person he was in the older comics. He still has deeply impulsive thoughts and constantly tries to put the perceived needs of others above himself, over and over and over. But he’s learned that he cannot show these feelings to others. That he HAS to keep them in, because if they see that he’s struggling, the rejection will just be worse. That he’ll ruin more relationships, that he won’t be able to be there to protect those people when they need him.

And then there’s Jason after he’s returned. Jason who always feels that dick is judging him, now. How he thinks dick is always looking at him as if he’s about to blow up, about to have some crazy plan that will get others killed. Because, well- that’s what dick DOES expect. Because he saw Jason, with the “same” big feelings that dick had at that point in his life, but Jason “never” hid them. He went out there and expressed his rage as red hood and got it all out, and dick never really did that without immediately regretting the consequences and having to fix it.

I think, in dicks perspective , everybody else has these same huge feelings he has all the time. The constant back and forth, the constant fear of rejection. He sees Jason being angry and violent and thinks- “why can’t he just hold it all in like I do?”. He doesn’t get that this is a different situation, different feelings. That dick holding in all this violent anger and need for reassurance isn’t good for him, that Jason learning to do that wouldn’t be good for him either.

I think, as much as dick probably wouldn’t want to admit it, he projects onto his family a lot like Jason does. Jason and his comments about how the other kids only ever became Robin so that Bruce would love them. Sure, there’s some truth in it when it comes to damian, who had no connection to Gotham other than it being where his father lived. But there’s more nuances to that that Jason doesn’t understand about his siblings because he’s not in their head. Just like how there’s nuances to all of their feelings and trauma and reactions to things that dick will never understand.

He’s forced himself to mature, to grow and bury these feelings because he knows he has to be the responsible one. He has to do what his family and bludhaven and Gotham and his team all need. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t still have those feelings of anger in him. That doesn’t mean he stops looking at Bruce sometimes and thinking- “god, I think he’s a monster” after seeing everything Bruce has done to the other kids. That also doesn’t change that dick looks at Bruce and thinks “he’s my father my mentor my hero, my brother, my saviour, my partner, my everything- my god. I’d die for him. I will never be him. I will never be good enough for him. I need him to be better for everyone else.”

Dick will never stop feeling these constant sways of emotions. They’ll always be a part of them. He’s just had to bury them. Until Bruce fucks up too bad again or someone hurts one of the kids dick’s sworn himself to protect. Until he has no choice than to let it all boil over.

Dick isn’t the angry robin. He isn’t the happy robin. Boiling him and Jason down to either one of those characteristics is just damaging to their characters and what they’ve been through.

Dick is bright and happy and loving and charismatic. But he’s so angry. He’s so tired. He wants to be loved and he wants to be safe. He wants to protect others. Needs to protect others. Needs to be the one whose always there to do it because he trusts nobody else to handle it all. He has to handle it all. He doesn’t want to handle any of it. He’s so tired. He’s so angry. He loves so strong and it’s killing him.

He spends so much of his time seeing how being Batman is killing Bruce. How much of his life Bruce has given to the thing that will kill him.

I think dick refuses to accept that being robin, being nightwing, is killing himself too. That he’s not immune to this. That pushing himself harder and harder and trying to “prove” himself that he CAN handle everything over and over again doesn’t mean he should. That he’s torturing himself in ways even Batman cannot see.

[plagueislost]

I WOULD LIKE TO HEAR YOUR THOUGHTS ON JASON WING AU THE WAY HIS WINGS CHANGED AND SUCH

do other people who use the lazurus pit experience changes in their wings or was it bc he changed as a person before/after his death

do you think people who go through trauma experience changes in their wings

also what does family preening look like

i am obsessed with the wing au

THANK YOU FOR ASKING I LOVE TALKING ABOUT THIS AU.

i originally got the idea of his wings turning white from that streak in his hair that appeared after the resurrection. i figured hey, if the lazarus waters can do that to someone’s hair, it can probably do that to their wings too, right? it allows for Bruce to not realize Jason is Red Hood for a little bit longer, and it lets you visually separate these two halves of Jason’s life.

I honestly got pretty lucky that pigeons and doves are the same type of bird, and that their symbolic meanings are so contrasting. Jason was a street rat before the resurrection. even after becoming robin, his entire outlook on life was informed by his experience on the streets, and his wings reflected that.

after the resurrection, he becomes in a way haunted by his previous life, and is stuck in a state of grief over what he lost and what he can never again be (robin, bruce wayne’s son, whatever). doves are a symbol of peace, which is a nice contrast to the red hood persona, but they’re also a symbol of grief and mourning (well, technically mourning doves are but shhhhh).

I imagine that since Jason is the first to be revived fully from the dead by the lazarus pits, he is the only one to have experienced significant change in his wings. it’s possible Ra’s might have some white speckling from frequent exposure to the pits, but i honestly haven’t decided yet.

about the trauma causing changes in wings thing, most likely it wouldn’t be anything so drastic like Jason’s change but it can definitely leave lasting effects. i heard somewhere that birds in very stressful situations will over-preen themselves, essentially plucking out perfectly healthy feathers until skin is exposed. This is probably a behavior that would manifest in people in this world too, as a form of self harm. It’d be pretty hard to hide, though, so if someone were trying to keep up appearances they’d likely search for other avenues.

lastly, family preening i’d say is similar to social grooming behaviors in apes or birds. I’m not sure about the social structures behind preening in birds, but i know a lot of species will groom each other in order to bond. We don’t see a lot of social grooming in humans because we’re able to stay rather clean on our own, but i’m sure that would be a different story if we had large appendages in hard to reach places covered in feathers that won’t necessarily fall out on their own when they need to.

social preening would look different on a case-by-case basis, depending on living situations and interpersonal relationships. for example, someone who lives alone would probably invite friends over so they can preen one another in a giant pile on the floor, but a group of people living together wouldn’t need to make an event of it and would just idly groom each other while watching tv or something. people probably sell tools that allow you to get to those hard to reach place on your own if you don’t have anyone to preen you, but they aren’t a huge industry. also, you can go a while without preening before it gets dangerous, but it’s uncomfortable and itchy the whole time. with the Wayne foundation, theres likely preening centers across Gotham where individuals (homeless or otherwise) can get their wings preened if they don’t have anyone to preen them and can’t afford the tools.

Jason is still pretty testy about preening now, but before he reconciled with Bruce, his wings were in a constant state of disrepair. He had the money (from crimelord-ing) to pay for the tools to preen himself, but he wasn’t taking very good care of himself overall during that period, so it took a back seat.

thanks for indulging me with this au you guys have been very kind about it :)

[agentpeggycarterrogers]

“You said you had no other choice but to love me. But you still made it happen. You still chose to follow your heart. I know you chose to come back to me and I’ll never be able to thank you enough for using that device to be with me.”

She nodded. “You gave up so much to have this life and all I can do is love you and show you how happy I am with you. All I can do is make that choice worth it for you. I know it wasn’t an accident or fate that you came back to me. I’ll always br grateful you chose me.”

Peggy shrugged. “I don’t know if it really was fate or not. I meant in the way we love each other, the way our hearts call to each other across time and space. To me, that sounds like no ordinary love. There was no one else for me but you, and no one for you but me.” 

She scooted closer. “All that matters is this, that we have each other now, and every moment means so much.” 

A memory stirred. Yes, he had a motorcycle during the war. “I like being in the car with you too, but if you want one for fun, to ride around with me, I wouldn’t be opposed. Although I don’t really need a motorcycle as an excuse to wrap my legs around you.” Peggy grinned, aware of her innuendo, and then nudged him. “You act like you’re so old, darling. You didn’t age in the ice, you’re not old by any means.”

She smiled. “I’m going to spoil you for my entire life. I hope you know that.”

@steven-g-rogers

She smiled and shrugged. “I think we appreciate it more too because of what we’ve been through. Not as a trauma response, but I know what it’s like to be without you and to accept that I couldn’t have you - or to mourn the life I wanted for us. But we do have that life. So now - I’m just filled with gratitude.” 

I would have fallen for you just as hard, because you’re you.  And it’s you that my heart calls to.  His words filled her heart more than she could describe, put into words, and more than anything. She smiled. “My heart calls to you too. I just believe that you’re the one - and I don’t know about fate or any of that, but I do believe you’re the one I was meant to be with. Perhaps it is fate, perhaps there is such a thing as soulmates - we’ll never know for sure. But I’m not saying it makes it more real, or more than anyone else’s love. I don’t know what they feel - I only know what I feel, what we feel.” She shrugged. 

Peggy squeezed his hand. “I don’t mean that we’re clinging to each other because trials are over, just that I appreciate it more that you’re here and that we do have this life. I just feel so deeply for you and always have, and always will. That is nice to know, that you’re not going anywhere. I knew that, but it’s nice to hear it.” 

She smiled and leaned into him, kissing his cheek. 

“A motorcycle really? Do you think you’d get another in this time?” Peggy was mildly curious about riding on the back of a motorcycle with Steve. She thought it sounded rather exciting and a bit…sexy. 

Peggy shrugged. “I’ll make sure I get you one that’s nice and affordable, don’t worry.”

@steven-g-rogers

[abbzloves]

Pairing: Xavier x mc

Cw: angst, mentions of captive bird, spoilers for Caleb’s story, threats of violence, Xavier being protective, use of nickname Starlight, comfort, probably other stuff

A/n: I love Xavier so much, I just finished the Caleb story and the entire time I kept thinking that Xavier and Sylus would never do that. Zayne probs too but he’s not my favourite. Anywho, enjoy the Xavier fic, might write one about Sylus soon.

——————

Xavier’s knee bounced. Up and down and up and down and up and down. His heart raced, faster and faster. Whether it be nerves or anxiety, he wasn’t sure. Maybe both. He hadn’t seen you for a week, the last he had heard from you was that you were going to Skyhaven for a mission and you would be back. That’s it. No other communication, nothing from Jenna, Tara had no clue where you were, and Simone wouldn’t spill.

Over the past week, he had barely been able to sleep, he was so worried. After hearing about the explosion by the overpass, his anxiety spiraled further at the thought of you getting hurt. He knew you could handle yourself, his trust in you was beyond words, beyond measure even. He had seen you in countless fights, had seen you take down coutless wanderers, but he was always by your side. He was there to step in if you ever got hurt, and that’s where his anxiety stemmed from. He needed you by his side, not for your own sake, but for his.

He on his couch, waiting for something. Today was supposed to be the day you were to come home. He also knew Skyhaven was hard for you, after all, your childhood best friend had lived there. His heart tinged a bit, some jealousy creeping up through the anxiety. He pushed it aside for now, he had bigger things to focus on than his petty jealousy. His phone dinged, a light melody that he only used for you. He picked it up immediately and checked the text.

“I’m back.”

“R U home?” His breath quickened, he needed to see you.

“Yes.”

“Can I come see U?”

“Please”

He stood up. He grabbed his wallet, the book he had been reading, and the two new stuffies had caught at the arcade while you were away. He still needed his teacher with him, even after his near fifty tries a day, he only caught the two. He teleported to your front door. He needed to see you as soon as possible. He needed to be close to you, and hear your voice, and be in your presence.

He knocked three times, and unlocked the door. He called out your name and saw you by your windowsill, look out at the sky, with a solemn look on your face. You looked over at him, and a small smile grew. He knew something was off. Your emotions were always easy for him to read, you never put any effort into hiding them when he was around. He put down your stuffies on the couch, along with his book and approached you.

“How was your trip?” He stood next to you, trying to be a calm and comforting presence. Someone you could lean on. And you did, you leaned into his side a little and look into his soft blue eyes. You felt safe beside him. You felt a lump form at the back of your throat, and felt your eyes sting a little as you tried to hold back your tears.

“It was rough,” you managed to get out. A singular tear fell, and he noticed it immediately. He wasn’t sure what to do. He felt the panic creep up his throat, his eyes widened and he reached out to wipe it away.

“What happened?” His voice was measured and hardened. Ready to go after whatever had caused your pain. To stop whoever had hurt you. To protect you.

“Caleb… is alive.” More tears fell, your complicated emotions were clear on your face. Anger, fear, some resentment, longing, and pain. Xavier knew all of those well. He also knew what this would mean for you. Your childhood best friend, the one you had mourned, the one you had cried yourself to sleep over, was alive.

“What?”

“He was alive this whole time Xavier, and he’s involved with Ever. And he…” you trailed off. Xavier’s eyes quickly examined your face, and he knew something else had happened. He was not going to push, he was going to wait until you told him yourself. He, however, was more than ready to kill the bastard again if it meant keeping you safe.

“What did he do to you?” His voice, was comforting to you, and you wrapped your arms around his neck and let the tears flow. He held you tightly, unwilling to let you go. He didn’t experience what you experienced, he knew something had happened. He did not want to let you go through it alone.

“He drugged me with cold medicine. He trapped me in his house… he isn’t the same person I grew up with. He’s not my Caleb…” he stilled at that. His anger grew. You could feel a shift in Xavier’s demeanour, unlike with Caleb, you weren’t scared. You knew Xavier like the back of your hand, you had spent so much time with him. You know him now like you used to know Caleb. You held on tighter to Xavier, afraid that if you let him go, he would become a different person too. That you would loose him. Xavier’s hold tightened exponentially, and he was ready to go, to hurt Caleb. Put him back into the ground because, what he did to you, the pain he had caused you is not okay. None of it was okay. Anyone who caused you pain, regardless of it being your childhood best friend, did not deserve to be in your presence ever again, breathe the same air as you, be near you. Xavier would expect the same if he ever did that to you.

“He… did what?” He managed to ground out, through his clenched teeth, and his arms clutched you closer.

“He wanted to protect me, he said…” you sobbed out.

“Oh Starlight,” he tried to pull away a little but you wouldn’t let him. You didn’t want to see the pity on his face. “Hurting you like that isn’t protection.”

You nodded into his neck. He let go of you briefly a grabbed your legs to wrap them around his waist. He picked you and walked over to the couch. Beside the stuffies and all. Regardless of how he felt in the moment, the anger brewing under his skin making him feel like a restless animal, he knew you needed him more.

When he tried to pull away to see your face you let out another sob and clutched further. “Please don’t leave me Xavier.”

He huffed at that, and finally forced your face away from his neck. He placed his forehead against yours. Your bleary eyes stared back into his, deep sorrow and anger sketched into his features. There was no hint of pity. Your relief washed over you.

“I would never, in a million years leave you. You are the only one for me in the entire cosmos. I will always be by your side,” he cradled you close. “Can I kiss you?” He muttered so softly you almost missed it. You nodded.

He pressed his lips softly against yours. It was nice and peaceful, his touch was gentle. He pulled back, and pressed a kiss to your forehead. You sighed and leaned your head against his chest. He swayed you back and forth. When your breathing evened out, his suppressed anger came to the forefront. A man was about to die. Xavier was going to kill the man a second time, the man who dared to hurt you.

[kilesplaysthings]

The Purrfect Solution

~ A Yes, Cat Caretaker Fic ~

Summary: I found out from Liam that Caleb hadn't returned to Skyhaven after we spent a few days together. A trip to Meow's Cafe gave me the hilarious answer as to why...

Word Count: 5k

Warnings: Caleb x MC fluff. Slight separation anxiety. Slightly suggestive: use of a human-sized collar.

I will be forever salty that Caleb wasn't around for the Yes, Cat Caretaker event. We were deprived! Deprived, I tell you!!

Therefore, I wanted kitty!Caleb, so I wrote kitty!Caleb :3 also, Caleb would be an orange tabby and no one can convince me otherwise

It all happened about a week ago, when I received a call from Liam, Caleb’s adjutant.

“I’m sorry to bother you, Miss Hunter, but you’re the only person I could think of to call.”

“Don’t worry about it, Liam!” I decided not to dwell on the fact that Liam had my number in the first place. “What’s up?”

“I was wondering if the Colonel was with you? I don’t want to alarm you, but he hasn’t reported in for duty yet. He was supposed to be back in Skyhaven yesterday, but every time I tried to call him, he didn’t answer.”

I frowned. Caleb had come down from Skyhaven to hang out for a few days. He had left on Sunday as scheduled and I hadn’t heard from him since.

“He’s not with me. He left on Sunday as planned…” Concern began to sprout up within me. “Now that you mention it, he hasn’t called me to let me know he made it back there, either…”

“Like I said, I don’t mean to alarm you. It could be nothing. Perhaps he received a classified mission while coming back here that he needed to handle immediately.”

I told myself not to panic yet. Being the Colonel of the Farspace Fleet was a rigorous job that asked a lot of Caleb. Liam could very well be right, and if he wasn’t suspecting the worst yet, I reassured myself that I shouldn’t either.

“Okay, yeah. Yeah, you’re right.” I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I’ll be sure to let you know if I see him. Please let me know if you find anything out.”

“I will, Miss Hunter. I’m sure everything is all right. The Colonel wouldn’t let anything happen to him that was out if his control.”

“All right. Thanks, Liam.”

He hung up the phone and I was left with so many thoughts whirling around in my head. Caleb seemingly hadn’t made it back to Skyhaven. His right-hand man had no idea of his whereabouts, and he hadn’t contacted me, either. It was still too soon to suspect foul play, but my wayward mind couldn’t help imagining various incidents that could have happened to him; like that train accident he’d been on not too long ago, or a Wanderer suddenly attacking him.

I decided to call his friend Gideon on the slight chance that he would know where Caleb was.

“No, I haven’t heard from him in a few days. He’s not in some sort of trouble, is he?!”

The call with Gideon proving fruitless, I called Caleb myself. No answer. My stomach began to churn with anxiety. The last thing I wanted was Caleb going MIA on me. It reminded me too much of that day…

I decided to text him:

“Hey! Are you there?”

“I tried to call you. Text me back!”

“No one’s been able to get a hold of you. You’d better answer me or you’ll be sorry!”

I gripped my phone and paced around my apartment. A couple of minutes passed and still no response. My heart pounding, I was about to rush outside and tear up the Linkon streets to search for him when –

Ring ring

“Caleb!”

“Heyyy Pip-squeak.”

Sure enough, it was Caleb on the phone.

“Don’t ‘hey Pip-squeak’ me! Why didn’t you answer your phone?! I heard you didn’t go back to Skyhaven on Sunday! What gives?”

“Aww, what? Miss me? Or… are you upset I’m still hanging around?”

“No, you dummy! You adjutant just called me saying you haven’t reported in yet! What are you doing? Are you still in Linkon?”

“Oh.” He sighed. “Why’d he have to go and call you?” I heard him mutter.

“What’s going on, Caleb? You’re not hurt or anything...?” I couldn’t hide the growing concern in my voice.

“No!” He quickly replied. “No, I’m fine! Promise! I just--”

Suddenly I heard what sounded like a couple of kitties meowing followed by Caleb trying to shush them. I frowned.

“Caleb… You wouldn’t happen to be at Meow’s Café, would you?”

Silence. From him, at least. I could still hear the cats meowing in the background.

“I’m coming over there,” I told him.

“Pip-squeak, you don’t--”

“I’m already out the door,” I interrupted, snatching up my keys. “Don’t even think about going anywhere.” I warned him.

A resigned chuckle came over the phone.

“Okay, okay.”

I reached Meow’s Café in record time – under fifteen minutes. Strangely enough, the café’s windows were shuttered and a “closed” sign hung on the door.

“I’m here. Can you let me in?” I texted him. He sent me a thumb’s up emoji in response. A moment later, I heard the lock click and the door slowly swung open. When I stepped inside, the café’s OTTO Bot manager whizzed up to me.

“Hello, dear guest! We apologize for the inconvenience, but the café is closed until further notice.”

“Don’t bother with that. She’s with me.”

Caleb’s voice drifted towards me from a back room. When he appeared, all I could do was stare at him.

Caleb looked fine, dressed in a casual shirt and jeans, with nary a cut or bruise to be seen. But one thing blatantly stood out right away; two things, to be exact, and they were sticking up right on top of Caleb’s head nestled in his dark hair. Cat ears. Fuzzy, twitching cat ears which looked to be orange in color. As I stared at him, I caught a subtle movement out of the corner of my eye. Swaying behind him was also a tail, a fuzzy, striped tail that was also orange with cream highlights.

“Uh… Caleb?” I couldn’t take my eyes off of those ears.

“’Sup?” He replied. It was obvious he was trying to be as nonchalant about this unusual predicament as possible.

I crossed my arms over my chest.

“Ya know, something seems different about you. Can’t quite place it, though. Got any ideas?”

That fuzzy, striped tail swayed behind him.

“Hm? What do you mean?”

I sighed, exasperated. “Oh, come on. So, you mean to tell me those ears and tail are a new fashion statement or something?”

“Well…”

I quickly approached him and reached up to pinch one of those ears. Caleb flinched.

“H-hey! Watch it! They’re sensitive, you know!”

“And they’re very real! What happened?”

Caleb sighed resignedly. “I think this is because of that long match of Kitty Cards we played. Remember? The cats weren’t too happy at how many rounds we did.”

Some of the nearby kitties began to meow loudly, as if they were agreeing with him.

“All right, all right,” Caleb shook his head. “Also, I don’t think they liked how combatively I was playing, either.” He glanced upwards as those furry ears swiveled around on his head.

“Yeah, I remember.” It had been a long couple of matches, and we were both super competitive with each other. “You were ruthless with the assist cards. I think that one orange kitty was pretty fed up with you by the time we were done. So, this is because of the kitties’ evol?” I wondered.

“Guess so. At least, that’s what this OTTO said.” He nodded to the nearby Bot.

“This guest came bursting in here a couple of days ago, demanding we do something about the ears and tail. We tried to explain that they will go away gradually and there was nothing else that could be done.” It told me.

Caleb sighed again and rubbed the back of his neck.

“I don’t have all the time in the world to wait for these to go away, though,” he murmured defeatedly. “And I definitely can’t let the Fleet see me like this.”

“So, what? You were just gonna wait it out here?” I asked.

He shrugged. “I didn’t know what else to do.”

I glared at him. “What about me? You could’ve called me.”

His eyes skittered away from mine. “I didn’t want to make you worry…”

“Too late for that, isn’t it?” I sighed. Then I reached out and touched his arm.

“You remember what I said a couple months ago, the last time you came to see me?”

He blinked and looked back at me. “Hm?”

“You don’t need to act like a stray. Not with me.” I slid my hand down to grasp his.

“Come on. We’ll go back to my place.”

The OTTO Bot manager seemed pleased at this turn of events. “Thank you, Miss Hunter! I’m sure Master Tabby’s problem will go away soon!”

Tabby? So that’s what type of cat Caleb is? I glanced at the tail and noticed the stripes. Yup. Orange tabby seemed pretty accurate.

Caleb had his small duffel bag with him, and we made our way back to my apartment.

“You sure this isn’t a problem, Pip-squeak?” He asked as we walked down the street.

“If it was, I would’ve told you. The only problem I have is how you worried me when no one could contact you. You owe me.” I gave him a look as I pulled up Liam’s number to call him.

“Yeah, you’re right. What do you want me to do?” He asked.

I thought about it as the phone rang. Then I grinned as an idea popped into my head.

“You have to let me touch your ears and tail whenever I want.”

He sighed. “Guess I can’t say no.”

“Nope.”

Liam answered at that moment, and I let him know that I found Caleb. I told him something had occurred to prevent him from going back right away and that I would keep him updated on Caleb’s status. And with that phone call over, we returned to the apartment.

I led him inside. “Guess I’ll be taking care of a big kitty for a few days,” I remarked. I couldn’t help but continue to stare at his furry ears and tail. The long tail was slim, not fluffy like a long-haired cat’s, but it was still cute with its orange and cream stripes. I wanted to feel how soft it was.

“Ha ha.” He plopped down on the couch. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t.” I went over to sit beside him and watched as his tail slowly moved up and down on the couch.

Caleb noticed my staring at it and smirked. “Wanna touch it?”

My eyes darted from the tail to his face, and back to the tail. “Well…” I sheepishly shrugged.

“Go on. We made a deal, after all. It’s all yours.”

“Thank you!” I couldn’t hide the glee in my voice. Happily, I lifted the tail to feel its soft fur, making sure to be gentle with it. I knew cats’ tails were sensitive. It curled around my hand as I held it which made me smile.

I could hear Caleb huff out a laugh. “You like it, huh?”

“Your fur is very soft,” I told him. I brushed my thumb along the tail, tracing its stripes.

He crossed his arms over his chest and shook his head at me, his still-visible human ears turning a slight shade of red.

Noticing his reaction, I grinned. “I’ve taken it quite the cute stray,” I teased, tugging the tail slightly.

“Okay, okay. You’ve had your fun,” he groused out, snatching up my wrist.

That made me laugh and I let go of his tail. “Fine, fine. So, how is it being part cat? Is your hearing better?” I glanced up at those ears that were continuously moving, no doubt catching so many different sounds.

“Yeah actually. So’s my sense of smell. Being a cat’s not awful, I guess, but it seems to be affecting my evol. Can’t use it right now.” He shrugged.

“I bet that’s annoying. I can imagine that would make things hard for you in the Fleet huh? And you can’t even be lazy and make things float to you now!” I joked, nudging him.

He scoffed and leaned towards me, resting his head on top of mine. I smiled up at him.

“Want something to eat? It’s just about supper time.”

Those ears perked and I watched as his tail rose up in the air. “Yeah, sure!”

“All right! What should we have?” I went over to the kitchen to see what I could whip us up to eat. When Caleb followed me, I quickly stepped in front of him and put my hand on his chest, making him stop short.

“What?” He queried.

“I don’t think so, big guy. I’m the one doing the cooking.”

He immediately frowned. “What are you talking about? I’m the one who usually cooks.”

Determined, I placed my hands on my hips.

“You’re part cat right now. And I’m not about to let cat hair get into my food or all over my kitchen!”

His eyes narrowed and he crossed his arms over his chest. “Ridiculous. You really think this is enough fur to make me shed everywhere? Besides, I’m a short-haired cat.”

Caleb could be stubborn, frustratingly so. But so could I. No matter how much I loved his cooking, I wasn’t backing down from this.

“My kitchen, my rules. And don’t even try to give me your Colonel Caleb Look. How about you go decide a movie we could watch while we eat?”

“But Pip-squeak…”

“Go on. Be a good kitty.”

He stared at me for a moment, almost petulantly. I stared right back. After what seemed like an hour of this standoff with him, he sighed and bowed his head, his ears drooping.

“Make fried cod, then. I’m in the mood for fish.”

I let out a sigh of relief. “You got it."

I wasn’t sure what to expect from this new Caleb. I mean, the last thing that I ever imagined would happen was that he’d become part cat, complete with ears, a tail and a cat’s instincts. But this was still Caleb, my best friend and the most important person in my life. I wasn’t anticipating anything too crazy, and cats were such cute, lazy animals most of the time. Nothing could go wrong, right?

Boy, how wrong I was with that thought process.

“Caleb, what are you doing?!” I nearly shrieked as I ran out onto the balcony.

This big, 6’2 bulk of a man was perched on the railing, staring up at the nearby tree that hung over my balcony. He was reaching for the nearest branch, as if he was going to jump up into the tree!

He slowly turned to me and blinked, startled by my yelling.

“…Nothing,” he answered.

“This is nothing?! You don’t even have your evol right now! Don’t tell me you’re trying to jump up there!”

He was about to answer me when we heard chirping noises above us. Nestled in some branches higher up in the tree was a nest of baby birds along with their mother that was feeding them. Caleb watched the nest with gleaming eyes. His tail was thrashing back and forth.

“Caleb! No! Don’t you dare!”

I ran up to the railing and wrapped my arms around his waist. He hesitated at first but ultimately let me pull him down off the railing and back into the apartment. He was still watching the birds as I slammed the balcony door shut. Then, as if waking from a trance, he blinked a couple of times and shook his head.

“Sorry… don’t know what came over me,” he sheepishly muttered. His tail’s swaying was slowing down and his ears flattened on top of his head, ashamedly.

I let out a deep breath. “It’s okay. Just… be careful. Nearly gave me a heart attack.”

If mischief had a middle name, it would be Caleb – specifically, Kitty!Caleb. When he wasn’t trying to catch birds from the windows or balcony, he was either following me around as if looking for something to do or nosing around the apartment investigating everything. If something could be dismantled and put back together, he would fiddle with it as his tail swayed back and forth.

“My alarm clock was working just fine, Caleb,” I said when I found him taking the thing apart one afternoon. Pieces of it were scattered around the coffee table as Caleb examined the wiring of the machine.

“Yeah, but I wanna see how it works,” he muttered. “I’ll put it back together, promise.”

I was worried to leave him alone for too long, in case he really did end up breaking something. I would never say Caleb was annoying, but his kitty self was… a lot to handle.

One afternoon, we were sitting – or rather, snuggling together on the couch. Caleb now had this habit of making trouble and then wanting to snuggle, preferably on top of me, just like a big, heavy cat who made it difficult for you to move when he was comfortably resting on you. He would nuzzle his head against my neck while nudging me with his nose; a sign that he wanted pets. When I wouldn’t respond to him, he’d lift his head and stare at me with big, pitiful eyes. It was undeniably cute, and near impossible to resist.

“You’re heavy, you know,” I mildly complained. “I think my legs are gonna fall asleep.” I stroked those felt-like ears and played with his hair.

All he did was hum in response before muttering, “’m comfy.” He then slightly tightened his arms around me.

I sighed and rolled my eyes. Just like with a big cat on top of you, I felt like there wasn’t much I could do. I tried to focus on the tv show that was playing when I suddenly heard something: a low, rumbling noise coming from below me.

“Wait. Did you just purr?” I blurted out.

He glanced up at me before looking away. “No…?”

“You totally did!” I exclaimed between giggles.

“Ugh, don’t laugh at me,” he complained moodily, even as he nudged my hand that had stopped caressing his head.

“But I can’t help it when you act so cute.”

He rolled his eyes and moved off me to lean back in the couch. It seemed he no longer wanted pets, so I sat back up, massaging my numb thighs. On the coffee table were two glasses, one with water and one empty. As I reached for my glass to take a sip of water, I noticed Caleb was staring at the empty one. With a slight tilt to his head, he slowly reached for it.

It was almost like the world was suddenly set in slow motion. I merely watched as he extended a couple of fingers to push the glass slowly towards the side of the coffee table. Perhaps it was because I didn’t actually think he would do it, but I didn’t make a move to stop him at first even as he pushed the glass further and further. It was only when the glass was teetering off the table’s edge that I realized,

Oh. He’s really gonna do it, huh?

“Caleb…” I uttered his name as a warning.

“Hmm?”

“What are --”

Before I could say anything else, he gave the glass one last push, and it toppled to the floor. Fortunately, there was a rug underneath, so the glass didn’t break. All the while, Caleb stared at the glass as if it was the most interesting thing he’d ever seen.  

“Why’d you do that?” I had to ask.

“I dunno. I just really wanted to see what would happen if it fell.”

All I could do was let out a defeated sigh. He was just one of those cats: rambunctious, always curious and with an immense amount of energy.

“Don’t you do daily training at Skyhaven?” I asked him.

“Yup. First thing every morning,” he responded as he munched on a bag of calamari-flavored chips. Lately he had been craving snacks that were fish flavored.

“Well, I have an idea! I’ve noticed how restless you’ve been. If you need to let off some steam, instead of being cooped up in the apartment all day, why don’t you go out for a run? You could go out while I fix dinner. That way, when you come back, you’ll be ready to eat!”

“Trying to kick me out of the apartment now?” He teased with a smirk.

“Oh, come on!” I scoffed. “You’ve been following me all over the place when you’re not taking things apart! You even sit outside the door when I’m in the bathroom!” I accused.

He laughed. “Fiiine. You do have a point.” He got up and stretched. “A run would do me good. I’ll change into something lighter and head out.”

Once he was changed in a tank top, shorts (with tail still visible), and sneakers, he gave me a wave and left the apartment. I could see him running down the street from my balcony window. It was quiet while he was gone. I couldn’t help the sigh of relief as I prepared our dinner: shrimp scampi. I had a feeling he’d be excited for it when he came back.

Even though he was a troublemaker, I did love having Kitty!Caleb around. I wouldn’t admit it to his face, but his constant presence made me happy and filled me with a sense of security. While he was under the cat evol, he couldn’t leave, either. That realization did admittedly please me and there were moments when we were curled up on the couch together – with me playing with those ears of his – that I found myself wishing the cat evol would stay. That way, he would never leave...

“I’m going for a run! Be back in a few!”

It was the sixth day of Caleb staying over. We had a routine at this point: in the late afternoon, he’d go out for a run while I began making dinner. This daily ritual of his really helped the restlessness he’d begin to feel around this time of day. We knew it was the result of him being part cat now, as cats would get what everyone called the “zoomies.” Caleb’s daily runs were basically him trying to combat that.

“’Kay! Food will be here when you get back!” I said to him before he was out the door.

“You’re picking it up, right? Sushi?”

“Yup!”

“Awesome. Then we should catch up on that series you showed me the other day.”

“It’s a date!”

“Cool. See ya!”

And he was gone. While he was out, I stopped by the nearby sushi place to pick up our order. Caleb insisted he pay for the meal since I had been the one doing all the cooking lately. As such, we splurged, getting several different rolls – all seafood, of course. We were especially excited about the crab meat and fatty tuna.

After I picked up our food, I stopped by a couple other stores before going back home. I timed it so I was out for about an hour – the same amount of time Caleb was usually out on his runs. When I arrived back at the apartment, he was still out, so I began unpacking the food. I set it on some plates for us and grabbed two pairs of chopsticks. I also decided to heat up some leftover rice and miso soup from a previous meal.

The hour was passed, and Caleb still wasn’t home. Another ten minutes went by and still no sign of him.

Maybe he stopped somewhere to grab a drink or something.

After another ten minutes, I decided to text him. No answer. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

Don’t freak out. He’s not an actual cat. He’s not lost. I’m sure he’s fine.

Then I remembered he couldn’t use his evol right now. He said it was starting to gradually come back, but slowly. It was basically still unusable at the moment; too weak.

I took more deep breaths and whispered “stay calm” to myself again and again, like a mantra.

He wouldn’t have left Linkon without telling me, right? No way.

I glanced over to the side of the couch. Sure enough, his duffel bag was still where he’d left it. It was slightly open, and I could see some of his clothes peeking out. No, he hadn’t headed back to Skyhaven.

I decided to call him this time. My stomach dropped when I heard the buzzing sound of his phone vibrating. He’d left it sitting on the coffee table. It was now an hour and thirty minutes since Caleb had left, and I had no way of contacting him.

I ran out of the apartment, took the steps instead of the elevator to get downstairs faster, and out the building’s front door. Like an owner who had lost her actual cat, I called out his name. No answer, and the streets were empty and silent. Gripping my phone, I decided to run down a couple blocks in case I spotted him running back home. Meow’s Café was nearby, but even a peek in there proved worthless. The café had opened back up, but Caleb was nowhere to be found.

“Should I contact the police? It would be too much if I made missing posters, right?” I muttered. I slowly walked back home, heart pounding, fighting the tears that sprung in my eyes.

He could be anywhere. What if he’s really hurt this time and he can’t contact me? I bit down on my lip and took a couple shaky breaths.

Back in the apartment, I slowly lowered myself down on the couch, staring at his phone that continued to sit on the table. The sushi still sat on the kitchen island counter untouched. I couldn’t move. I didn’t know what to do.

Am I overreacting? He could be fine, just running late. But he usually doesn’t forget his phone.

It had been almost two hours at this point. I pulled my legs up to my chest and lowered my head until my forehead touched my knees. I kept holding my phone tightly, on the off chance that I received a call about Caleb’s whereabouts.

My head jerked up when I suddenly heard my door’s keypad beeping. Someone was dialing my passcode and only one other person knew what it was.

I could have burst into tears at the sight of Caleb coming through the door. I jumped off the couch and ran up to him. The moment he saw me, he began to speak quickly.

“I’m so sorry I’m late! I even forgot my phone! I was trying to get back as soon as I could but --”

I wasn’t listening to him. I couldn’t. I had been so terrified something had happened to him. That I’d lost him again. As soon as I was in front of him, I pummeled him lightly with my fist.

“Where have you been?! Do you know how worried I’ve been?!”

“I know. I --”

“I was so scared, Caleb! And what are you wearing?!” I suddenly asked, now noticing the change in his wardrobe. He wasn’t in his workout combo of tank top and shorts. He was wearing a chocolate brown three-piece suit with a forest green tie. He even had gloves on.

“You know what? Never mind. Come here.”

I grabbed his hand and yanked him towards the bedroom. He let out a quiet gasp but didn’t protest or try to resist. Once we stepped inside, I pushed him down onto the bed. Standing over him, I glared at him, still reeling from how scared I had been.

He looked up at me with concern and regret in those sunset eyes. “I really scared you, huh? I really am sorry.”

“I should have known better when taking in a stray like you. You know what we caretakers do with naughty cats who wander off?”

The corner of his lifted ever so slightly, as if he was trying not to smile.

“What?”

“It’s just like what you told me.” I grabbed a nearby bag and pulled out a collar – a human-sized one. It looked just like the ones people bought for cats. It had a bell dangling from it, and next to that, a small, black square box. I was told the box was a tracker, with a built-in GPS. A lot of cat collars had the same things, for owners to know where their outside cats were roaming; the perfect solution for making sure their beloved kitty didn’t get lost.

“You said you put a collar with a bell on that injured cat we took in when we were kids. So it wouldn’t run away before it recovered without us knowing. I remember you telling me that. At the time, I didn’t understand. I thought you were being too overprotective. But now…”

I unbuckled the collar. He watched me quietly.

“Now I get it. Now I’ll know wherever you go. You won’t be able to disappear on me again.” I told him.

“Go ahead.” Was his response. He even leaned closer to me.

I blinked and stared at him. He didn’t flinch or move away, just watched me expectantly. Despite my anger, desperation, and everything I’d just said, I hesitated.

“You don’t mind?”

“If this will make you feel better, do it. I don’t mind you keepin’ tabs on me,” he replied.

So, I put the collar around his neck and fastened it. However, I made sure not to make it too tight. Once fastened around him, he ran his fingers along the leather and poked the bell, causing it to jingle.

“If you think about it, you’ve given me two collars now,” he remarked. He pulled out the familiar dog tag necklace from under his shirt. “Guess this means I’m pretty important to you, huh?” He teased with a smirk.

I gave his shoulder a shove. “You’re not allowed to joke about this. I was really scared, you know.”

His smile faltered and he gazed at me seriously. “I know. And again, I really am sorry about that. I swear I was on my way home, when some guy from a butler café stopped me. He thought I was one of the workers slacking off on the job. Guess they were doing a cat butler theme and noticed my ears and tail. Took me forever to convince him that I didn’t work there. Then he gave me this suit as an apology. Thought I’d wear it to surprise you, but…”

I huffed, still not ready to let go of my resentment from him scaring me.

“So, someone tried to take my cat and even tried to bribe him with nice things. Guess I really can’t take my eyes off you, huh?”

He tilted his head playfully, tail raised and swaying from side to side.

“You know no one can take me away from you. Buut, if you’re mad, I can make it up to you, my lady.” His voice dropped an octave lower as he put on the persona of a devoted butler, placing a hand on his chest.

“Let me think…” I took a moment to consider my options as he gazed at me with shining eyes.

“You have to buy me all the snacks I could ever ask for. Including drinks.”

He chuckled. “Don’t I already do that?”

I crossed my arms over my chest. “You have to text me every morning and night and tell me what you’re up to.”

“That’s not difficult at all. You’re goin’ pretty easy on me.”

“And you’re not allowed to take random gifts from anyone without asking me first.”

He shrugged. “Can do. Not that I’d want anyone else’s gifts anyway. Anything else?”

I paused, not sure what else to demand.

“Aw, c’mon. There’s nothing else? I’m ready and willing to do whatever, you know.”

I admittedly pouted a little. “I dunno. I'm still thinking.”

He grinned. “Well, how about…”

He suddenly took hold of my arm and gently pulled me down onto the bed beside him. I quickly sat back against the headboard, eyes widening as Caleb hovered over me on all fours. His ears were perked, and his tail was raised up, forming what almost looked like a question mark.

“How about all the snuggles with your big cat that you could ever ask for?” He lowered himself down and placed his head in my lap, looking up at me with the sweetest, most adoring expression I had ever seen from him.

“Why would I want that?” I muttered, trying to ignore the heat spreading from my neck to my ears.

“Well, they say cuddling with a cat is soothing, and improves your mood.” He even began to purr. “A cat’s purr even has health benefits.”

I couldn’t help myself. He was being so endearing; I could feel my anger dissipating as I reached down to run my fingers through his hair and over those orange ears. As his eyes slid shut in delight, he took hold of my free hand and nuzzled it, planting kisses and even light nibbles on my fingers.

I felt my heart begin to pound and frowned at the blush I could just feel on my face. “Ugh. Why can’t I stay angry at you, Caleb?” I whined.

He opened his eyes and grinned up at me. “’Cause I’m a cat. Your cat.”

Later on, we decided to finally eat the food we’d bought for dinner, while huddled together on the couch. Caleb insisted on continuing the role as a devoted butler and that it was my turn to have my head resting in his lap. As we watched a drama together, he fed me bites of sushi and rice, making sure not one grain fell onto my face.

“This is a bit much, isn’t it?” I wondered, feeling a bit awkward at this level of pampering.

“Course not. You just sit there and relax, my lady. This cat butler is here for your every need.”

I sighed and reached up to touch that black box on his collar he still wore around his neck.

“And you’re sure you don’t mind the collar?”

He laughed. “I’m your cat right now, right? While I still have the ears and tail, I’m gonna wear it.”

My hand drifted from the collar to his cheek. “I wasn’t really mad, you know. I was just scared that you had disappeared again…”

His smile was tender. “I know. I would have acted the same way if I were you. But I promise, Pip-squeak, I won’t disappear on you ever again. Not as a cat and not when I’m back to normal. Although…”

He set the plate down and picked up my phone that was sitting by his on the coffee table. He held it out to me.

“I still wouldn’t mind if you were tracking me. If you want to keep a GPS on me, just say the word and I’ll program it into your phone.”

I stared at him for a moment before taking my phone. “I’ll think about it,” I said quietly.

He nodded and stroked my hair. “And even after this is all over, and I head back to Skyhaven, all you have to do is call me. I’ll only be a phone call away.”

I looked away. “You can’t always promise that…”

“Yes, I can.” He said firmly. “We found each other again, and I won’t let anything tear us apart.”

He sounded so certain of this conviction that I was prone to believe him. I pressed my face into his torso and wrapped my arms around his waist. We stayed there on the couch in each other’s arms, feeling closer to each other than ever before.

[howlsofbloodhounds]

Kinda upsetting when people write killer willingly and/or knowingly hurting or killing any animals, let alone his cats. I firmly believe he would never willingly or knowingly do that, would never want to.

And if he ever suspected that he could be a danger to any animal in his care while in his higher Stages (which I prefer to think he wouldn’t be, simply because his SOUL will immediately switch to Stage 1), which he can’t control and where his impulse control plummets even more, then he’d do the intelligent and mature thing—attempt to rehome the animals in his care.

Find them somewhere else safer with someone he can trust to take care of them, and far away from anyone or anything that could pose a danger to them.

(Not to mention the popular fanon belief that Killer not only keeps those cats, but takes them into Nightmare’s castle.

The cats are never once shown or even implied to have stepped their little paws into even an inch of Nightmare’s castle, and Killer would never take them there.

Not to mention—it doesn’t seem like Killer even keeps them anywhere. It’s made pretty clear that these are stray, homeless cats who choose to be around and hang around Killer. They like him, they trust him, they keep coming back to him. Them not having a home either is one reason Killer relates to them so much.)

Just because he’s a (literal) programmed killer, and is currently being trafficked by a corrupted being of negativity where he has to do and say a lot of horrible things—at least appear to be extremely obedient and willing, useful—in the name of survival and avoiding unnecessary suffering, doesn’t mean he doesn’t have lines he hasn’t yet crossed and would never willingly cross.

Not without some desperate situation, or external force coercing and threatening him into it.

Just because any sense of morals or morality he has may not be considered traditional, maybe even more flexible, doesn’t mean he doesn’t have them when in Stage 2. Doesn’t mean he doesn’t have them still whenever it has to take the backseat in order to survive.

He’s not an animal abuser or an animal killer. He’s not a cheater, in the “agreed to be in a committed relationship” sense.

He’s not a rapist, or a sexual harasser, or a sexual assaulter. In fact he’s actually a lot more likely to be the one being assaulted. He’s not misogynistic, or homophobic, or transphobic, or queerphobic.

And despite the harm he has caused children unrelated to him and not under his care—because he still very likely had to kill and torture children, because that’s what you gotta do when your partner in crime is controlled by a being who can control the entire world and your Boss can dig his little dirty tendrils in your mind and soul and bring you to heel anyway—I doubt he goes out of his way to harm or abuse children willingly.

He may not care much about or trust children in the slightest—definitely not parent material—but similar to the cats, he’d find someone better, more willing, more able, to take care of any kid or kid(s) that somehow fall into his care.

Kids may find him and his Stages confusing, and because they’re young kids who don’t understand what’s happening to the adult taking care of them, they could be uneasy and scared—even if Killer hasn’t harmed them and has no plans, intent, or desire to.

Killer in Stage 1 would actually be hyper aware of any harm or risk he could do or be to children, actually. Especially if he’s still under Nightmare, somehow with a kid in tow.

He was an older brother once, after all—even if he failed miserably with his actual brother. On top that, it’s known already how much Killer doesn’t want to hurt anyone in Stage 1, and how much he demonizes and dehumanizes himself including in his higher Stages—and actively encourages others to view and treat him similarly, and even attempts to make the idea of killing him out to be something understandable and justified.

(Because he feels it’s justified. Even when he eventually starts realizing that he wants to live, that he wants a chance at a better life, I do think he’ll still struggle with feeling like he deserves it—but also the crushing fear that he’ll ruin it.

That he can’t trust his own mind, control his own body anymore—and his existence is inherently a threat to everyone around him, especially the ones he loves.

He thinks others would not only be safer if they stay far away from him or if he pushes them away—oftentimes justifying it with “you don’t need me” like he did with Papyrus—but he thinks his very existence puts those around him in danger.

And the only way to not be a danger anymore, to not hurt anyone again is to stop existing. (Which he just can’t seem to do, not from the lack of wanting and trying, though.)

Killer, particularly in Stage 1 and Stage 2, has been living his life with the expectation that he may not live to see tomorrow for quite awhile, and most days he probably never felt like he deserved tomorrow in Stage 1. Other days he didn’t want tomorrow.

Some days maybe even prayed that he’ll go in his sleep, and that his broken, deteriorating body will succumb to its hunger, pain, exhaustion, and injuries. If only because he knows the blood covering him isn’t likely to be just his anymore, come tomorrow morning.)

As if he’s more focused on assuaging anyone causing him harm or attempting to kill him of their own potential guilt or hesitation, willing to let himself be painted and treated as something subhuman if it means someone can and will kill him without hesitation or guilt. He self sabotages by trying to make people want to kill him, and feel justified in doing so.

He’d be more concerned with not taking any risks, wanting to give the kid(s) the means to protect themselves or run away if they ever have to.

When he’s in Stage 2, the kid(s) may feel like he’s suddenly more cold, distant, unreachable, emotionally unavailable. A child’s understanding of what’s happening can be simplistic.

Killer has done and is willing to do horrible things, but there are some lines he hasn’t yet crossed in his canon and we don’t have to pretend that he did in order to dismiss him, and the possibility of him trying and being able to change as soon as he’s actually able to be free from the environment and person that threatens him with erasure and torture on the literal daily if he attempts to disobey.

Yes, even if he and Nightmare were to be laughing together and playing a game of chess. The threat isn’t forgotten.

He has killed and tortured many people—likely children as well even if not shown much, and yes both Horror and Dust likely have as well—and he does mutilate and torture Swap during their first fight, and it seems to be something he continues to do whenever Swap keeps coming back to him.

It’s made clear that Killer doesn’t seek Swap out—Swap seeks him out. That doesn’t justify what Killer does in the slightest, but he is not going out of his way to hunt Swap down and hurt him.

Doing so would be counterproductive to what he wanted from the beginning—which was to make Swap give up on him, leave him alone, go away, and stay away. (When he asked if he kidnapped Blue, he even says he didn’t in ‘this’ timeline).

Also, some people have been really weird by insisting that Killer can never have healthy relationships of any kind at all, not even with Color, and that it’s “not canon” to say or depict his relationship with Color is such a way when that’s simply not true.

And i think this is because some seem to think that Killer doesn’t do anything but “hurt everyone” and that his apathy and disconnect from most people, his indifference towards his own actions in Stage 2, means he will actively and willingly hunt down and torture random people for no reason whatsoever.

The only person Killer has been shown hurting and abusing since Nightmare kidnapped and removed him from his own timeline was Swap.

And even then he’s never shown actively hunting Swap down just to hurt him—Swap is always the one shown to be coming around and bothering Killer even after he has made it clear that he wants Swap to just leave him alone.

He never asked for Swap’s help, nor did he ask him to save him or “fix” him or “make him feel and be good again,” but Swap keeps trying to and forcing his presence on Killer.

Keeps trying to force his wants and desires for Killer onto Killer. His ideas of what Killer should do or who and what he should be.

Thinks he knows Killer better than Killer knows himself, thinks he knows what Killer needs and wants. Thinks he knows what’s good for Killer.

Color doesn’t do this: he’s the only one who has ever asked Killer what Killer wants. (And of course, this is me writing from Killer’s perspective of Swap. We all know that no one deserves that, and there’s better ways to handle this situation.)

Everyone else Killer was shown hurting and killing was never anything personal to him, or something he did completely unprompted. Everyone else was Killer doing Nightmare’s dirty work—fighting the Star Sanses, terrorizing AUs and their residents.

And unless Nightmare told him to do otherwise or something triggered Stage 3/4, Killer was never fighting to kill—but he wasn’t holding back or refusing to fight either, unlike the Stars. Only enough to severely injure or incapacitate, not to kill.

He also sometimes got and gets crueler with his attacks when he was starting to get bored of the fight or of the lack of challenge/reaction/resistance his opponents put up, such as with Dream.

Killer in Stage 2 is indifferent in that he is desensitized to acts of extreme violence and abuse (especially when inflicted on himself), is used to causal murder and torture and death, and is removed—derealized—from the reality of it all.

He is also indifferent in that, unless he is given something he deems reasonable enough to get violent for—outside of being ordered to or being triggered and reacting violently—then he won’t bother to go out of his way to hurt someone for no reason.

If he doesn’t care about someone or is utterly apathetic to their existence, then he won’t bother to go out of his way to hurt them either until he thinks they’re starting something with him—making him into a problem or have hurt him.

He’d just ignore and/or avoid them, and acknowledge them if it’s for a reason or a convenience. Or a purpose of some sort, like having to work together on something.

Could he hurt people if he were to become interested in/curious about someone/something about them? Yeah, sure.

But I don’t think he’s doing it for the explicit purpose of finding pleasure in their pain or something—in this situation, him inflicting pain would likely come from a place of detached, desensitized, removed curiosity.

The subject of his attention and fascination isn’t much of a fully realized real person to him, I’d liken them more to a test subject or experiment of sorts.

As if he’s trying to figure out how they work, or perhaps if things like their emotions and their words are real. If they’re only coded or programmed to react a certain way.

Those “reasonable” reasons seem to be because he thinks it’d benefit him or give a desired outcome—using violence as a tool to scare people away for one—or because he thinks they deserve or deserved it. Aka, because they hurt him first and he wants to hurt them like they’ve hurt him.

(Wanting to hurt Nightmare because Nightmare hurt him by taking away what made him happy, that which gave him hope, what made him feel something—his cats, Color—and forced him to keep living—when Killer didn’t want to—and doing Nightmare’s dirty work, making Killer feel completely hopeless. That there would be no hope.)

Killer also asked Swap Chara if he could cut off their arm to study it, because he’s never studied a human body before. (Meaning he has not performed any unethical experiments on human bodies by that point in his canon.)

On top of that, Killer performs experiments on people’s souls, their blood, and their dust.

He keeps all that in jars—he has never actually been shown experimenting on living beings, let alone against their will. He uses their remains—often times without consent, and it’s unclear how aware exactly a soul that persists after death is of its surroundings when the body is dead. It’s for science, but given what he does, people may view it as keeping trophies of his victims.

We have yet to see him take souls from people who aren’t already physically dead, but we do see that he’s willing to bargain and make deals for others’ souls so he can experiment on them.

He’s doing this because he wants to study their codes—implied that he’s trying to fix his own SOUL. Trying to return to “normal.” He has his selfish reasonings for it, but it is not without reason and it’s certainly not for fun.

(Only time we see him use the word “fun” is when describing what it’s like to work with the Bad Sanses (and the word ‘sad’ is directly beneath it), when Dream asks him why he’s doing what he’s doing and Killer says “because it’s fun” (which he then immediately follows up with “and because your ‘bro bro’ asked me to”), and when someone asked him why he’s hurting Swap.)

(Does he feel guilty about it or remorse for it, any emotional empathy for his victims? No, probably not, not until he’s in Stage 1, likely.

But lacking empathy, guilt, or remorse doesn’t mean purposefully going out of his way to make things as sadistically painful as possible or purposely drawing things as out.)

Meaning every soul he didn’t snatch off a dead body (sometimes ones he killed himself when triggered into Stage 4, because again, Killer says himself that Nightmare doesn’t allow him to kill), was given to him through a bargain or a deal.

There’s also the possible blood drinking, where the only canonical evidence is that Killer was once drawn drinking something from a cup, some of the liquid dripped from his mouth down his chin, and the liquid looked red/similar to how rahaf tended to draw blood. It was never directly confirmed, and from what I can see, no one even asked rahaf about it at the time.

And the fact he collects and keeps human blood in jars for scientific study. Given who he is, it’s reasonable to assume he was curious and bored enough to try it out even once.

But it’s also just likely he’d resort to it originally either because he was forced to, or because he was hungry and he had to survive. There is no reason given as to why, nor is it even directly confirmed besides one possible drawing.

All in all: as of what we have in his canon, Killer in Stage 2 is more detached from traditional morality. He is not without any.

[lynzine]

I got this comment on AO3 that I was extremely excited to answer, so much that I asked the commenter if I could share it on tumblr. (They said yes!) I took a screenshot of their comment but I’m copying and pasting my response because it’s too long to screenshot. 😅

(Reply) Hi! I totally have an answer for this! (I’m going to put aside the sperm and egg thing since that’s just buzzkill for the idea in general. But people bring it up.)

So here’s the thing about war, it does a lot. It displaces people, forces migrations, kills people, and also… creates opportunities both economic and social. What if the chaos from the war was the only way that Kanna was able to escape the North Pole? What if the North and South Pole had strong ties in the wake of a weakened Fire Nation and Pakku was able to follow Kanna to the South Pole? If Kanna never makes it to the South Pole or if Pakku were able to follow her and stop her marriage to her eventual husband? No Hakoda, no Sokka, no Katara. In Hakoda’s case, there’s so many people in the South Pole an entire city of them. MORE. Maybe there are CITIES. So what if he fell in love and got married before ever meeting Kya?

In Toph’s case, what if one of her ancestors were a humble iron merchant. And how fortunate for them, though sad for the world, that the war with the Fire Nation brought about a dire NEED for the iron they’d spent their life investing in to make weaponry to combat firebenders. That need allowed them to make a fortune. Enough wealth to allow a marriage between a humble merchant and a near noble Beifong. Or what if a political marriage between two Earth Kingdom families was never considered in favor of a marriage to a respected Fire Nation family instead? After all, if you want to do business with the Fire Nation, and why wouldn’t you, marriage is one of the tools you can use to expand into that area.

Then there is Suki. In her case I headcanon her ancestry as being largely refugees. Imagine for a moment, the Fire Nation never destroys a small coastal town leaving behind a survivor who runs to a larger town, a survivor who now lives out their life happily in the coastal town that they grew up in, never meeting the kind innkeeper who offered them a place to stay when they had nothing. Never marrying that innkeeper’s oldest kid. Never having to run again when that town, too, was eventually overrun by the Fire Nation. Even Suki’s potential parents, refugees who might have made it to Kyoshi Island separately and fallen in love there could have been from completely different parts of the Earth Kingdom, driven by desperation and a fear until they found a safe haven in Kyoshi island where they could fall in love. Thousands of things could have happened for Suki to end up on the island… and one ancestor happily living the life they always were supposed to… means no Suki. (Plus, unlike the others, it would be really hard to remember all those ancestors. Like Katara and Sokka have oral tradition and a small population so they would probably know. And Zuko, Toph, and Yue probably knew about genealogy because noble families are like that. But Suki? She probably knows her grandparents’ names. Maybe one or two of her great-grandparents… but enough to help Aang find ancestors scattered across the Earth Kingdom? …I just don’t think so…)

Now, some people headcanon Suki as a descendant of Kyoshi. It’s fun, I don’t really buy it because I think we’d hear about it, but it’s fun. And that still could work here because if just one of Suki’s ancestors, a grandparent or a father came from the mainland as a refugee… they would probably have very little information on them to go on, and Aang would have a hard time getting them to move to Kyoshi island even if he could find this “Grandpa Li” (yes, I used a common name to illustrate the difficulty).

REGARDLESS! Many people like to think she was born elsewhere and you are free to do that. [Not included in original comment, but I just remembered that there’s some good ideas about making that version of Suki recruited by an anti-Avatar group and giving her a Zuko type arc.] I actually prefer the possibility that a spirit, in an attempt to bribe or trick the Avatar yanks Suki from her dying timeline and taunts Aang with her, allowing Suki’s return to a very DIFFERENT world. And friends she knows and loves who are also very different.

Thanks so much for asking. I kind of love thinking about it. Hope my answer provided some context. Let me know if it was unclear in anyway (I did like half of it while I was walking) or if you have more questions!

The Avatar’s Hobby

Avatar Aang was widely considered the greatest Avatar in the past millennia. At just twelve years old he prevented the genocide of his people, stymied all out war between the Earth Kingdom and the Fire Nation, and somehow stripped the Fire Lord behind these attempted atrocities of his bending. He did not remove Sozin’s family from power, despite the corruption. He watched them carefully. He had a solid grasp of all of the elements before even meeting his teachers. Aang was dedicated to peace and the sanctity of life. There was just one eccentricity that gave people pause…

The matchmaking.

Admittedly, it took years for anyone to notice but over the decades it became clear that Avatar Aang was pushing certain couples together. Most notably in the Fire Nation, when he introduced Crown Prince Azulon to his future wife, Ilah; but it was happening all over the world. He helped a woman escape the Northern Water Tribe to the South and attended her wedding after insistently guiding her to a particular Tribe with a specific young man who stammered and blushed and happily yielded to her in every matter. He supplemented a young Earth Kingdom merchant’s income so he could buy a marriage to a noblewoman. He helped a pair of peasants elope. He encouraged romance between specific members of the Northern Water Tribe’s most respected families.

He happily, sometimes desperately, meddled with seemingly random families all over the world. It was strange, but it was just a quirk. If he wanted to matchmake between preserving world peace and protecting humanity from the Spirit World, it wasn’t like it was hurting anyone.

Crown Prince Iroh reconsidered this widely held belief when the Avatar quite insistently arranged a marriage between his younger brother and Lady Ursa, granddaughter of the previous Avatar, Roku. Iroh and Aang had always gotten along. Aang, already an old man at his birth, had taught him Pai Sho and taken him on trips around the world. He was almost like his uncle. While the kind old Avatar had tried to treat Ozai the same way, Iroh had always sensed profound wariness in the Avatar when dealing with his younger brother, a wariness he tried to mask with his usual cheer and jokes. So why was Avatar Aang so determined to ensure that Ozai would marry Lady Ursa?

A similar issue was plaguing Hakoda of the Southern Water Tribe. No matter who he brought home, Avatar Aang seemed to disapprove. It was like his honorary uncle was looking for someone specific. If Aang had tried to push the young man to break up with someone Hakoda never would have acquiesced. But the old man just stared at him with his girlfriend so mournfully, as if he was going to begin sobbing, that Hakoda would eventually end the relationship.

The relief on the Avatar’s face always made him feel like he’d done the right thing.

The day that he introduced Aang to Kya and saw his face light up was the day Hakoda knew that he’d found the one. He’d found the woman that he was going to marry.

In the Earth Kingdom an assorted handful of merchants and nobles accepted the Avatar’s betrothal suggestions. It was good business to be favored by the Avatar.

Avatar Aang arrived the night before Lady Ursa went into labor. The old man was apparently more frantic than the rest of the family. Iroh made a dozen pots of tea in an attempt to calm the old airbender.

When an attendant emerged from the room Aang was the first on his feet. “Is he alright?” He demanded sharply. Iroh blinked and wondered how he knew the baby was a boy.

“Yes, he is. Quite healthy for a child born so close to midnight.” The woman answered, holding the new nobleborn at a professional distance from her. Aang stepped forward, and before any other member of the family had a chance, he took the baby into his arms. Iroh raised an eyebrow and exchanged a glace with his father. Both Fire Lord and Prince decided to say nothing of this curious breach of conduct and courtesy.

Aang trembled, clutching the tiny newborn blinking up at him with two whole golden eyes. “You’re here.” He whispered. “You’re really here…” The baby fussed as tears fell on his head. “I missed you so much, Zuko.”

The Avatar greeted the Princess of the Northern Water Tribe as well, directing her parents to the sacred oasis when she was born too early and without a sound. He even plead with the Moon Spirit himself to aid the child. The Princess woke with hair like the moon and a grateful Avatar gathering her into his arms.

Avatar Aang was seen mourning on Kyoshi Island. He went to the home of every new or expecting family before he donned the colors of grief and left the island teary eyed. Saying only that he’d lost her.

Avatar Aang was at the birth of both of Hakoda and Kya’s children. Somehow, more joyful than the parents themselves.

The Beifongs had not expected the baby to be blind. Avatar Aang assured them that she would be more powerful than any other person he had ever known.

Aang sat on edge of the Southern Air Temple, surrounded by children from every nation. Their parents might not like Aang’s impromptu field trips for them, but he couldn’t resist sometimes. Whether it was to train with badgermoles, to fly with dragons, to see new wonders, or simply to light candles for the only one he’d failed… the only one whose lineage he hadn’t known. Aang might be over a century old, but he would always need his friends. It had taken decades, but his family was as complete as it was going to be.

Zuko and Sokka argued over which of them was taller. Yue braided Katara’s hair. And Toph used earthbending to lift herself above them all, laughing manically as she did.

Sky bison passed, carrying young monks and nuns to new adventures. And even with the ever present ache of Suki’s loss… Aang was happy.

[theambitiouswoman]

I got what I wanted and I’m still not happy — why?

You finally found someone that checks off your list, the dream apartment, the designer bags, the business success, or the lifestyle you worked so hard for. And yet… something still feels off. You thought happiness would come once you checked all the boxes, but instead, there’s this emptiness, a feeling that something is missing

So, why does this happen? Why do we chase what we think will make us happy, only to feel unfulfilled once we have it?

Most of us are wired to believe that happiness is a destination. “Once I have X, I’ll finally feel good.” But happiness isn’t in the getting—it’s in the growing, the process. When you’re striving for something, you have purpose, momentum & excitement. But once you have it, what’s next? If you don’t have something deeper driving you, fulfillment can fade quickly

Shift your focus from external achievements to internal growth. Instead of asking, “What do I want next?” ask, “Who do I want to become?”

Society, social media & marketing have programmed us to believe that happiness comes from relationships, luxury, or financial success. While these things can enhance your life, they aren’t the foundation of happiness. “Oh money would make me so happy!” Wrong, peace of mind that comes with paying bills or being able to treat yourself would make you happy

A relationship won’t heal deep insecurity

Luxury won’t fill emotional emptiness

Success won’t erase loneliness

We see influencers flaunting their seemingly perfect lives, but what we don’t see is their private struggles. If happiness truly came from material things or relationships, wealthy & successful people wouldn’t battle depression or anxiety—but many do

Redefine what happiness means for you, outside of what society has told you. What actually makes you feel alive? What moments make you feel at peace?

A lot of people think finding the right person will complete them. But no relationship can fill the void of self abandonment. If you don’t feel worthy, secure, or whole on your own, even the best relationship will eventually trigger your insecurities

Maybe you’ve finally landed the relationship you always wanted, but instead of feeling safe, you find yourself anxious, overanalyzing everything, or feeling disconnected. That’s because relationships reflect what’s already inside of you—not what we want them to fix

Focus on becoming someone you love being with. If you had everything stripped away—no relationship, no luxury, no validation—who would you be? Would you still feel at peace?

Happiness addiction is real. We get a dopamine rush from achieving something new, but once the high fades, we need another “hit.” This is why people who seem to have it all keep striving for more—bigger houses, more money, more success. But if you’re constantly chasing, you never arrive

Learn to sit with stillness. If you never had another major success, could you still be content? Happiness isn’t about how much you have, but how much you appreciate what you have

You can have all the material success & relationships in the world, but if you’re disconnected from your deeper self—your purpose, your passions, your values—you’ll always feel a little lost. Sometimes, we chase what we think we want, only to realize it wasn’t truly aligned with our soul

Start asking yourself these questions:

What truly excites me outside of achievement?

Am I living for myself or for external validation?

If I lost everything tomorrow, what would still matter to me?

Getting everything you want and still feeling unfulfilled isn’t a sign that something is wrong with you—it’s a sign that happiness was never about the things you thought it was. Actual fulfillment comes from within, from living a life aligned with your values, nurturing deep connections & finding joy in the present, not just in the next goal

The real question isn’t why you’re not happy—it’s what truly makes you feel alive? And that’s the journey worth taking 🤍

[literaila]

Re-reading ATF (as one does) and I realized that chapter 60 “mistakes” on AO3 doesn’t have a resolution. What did reader do when she stormed out? How did Satoru respond?

part one

“somewhere else” as it turns out, is only thirty meters away from the house.

as soon as the front door clicks shut, bitter air hitting your face, you realize it—you don’t have anywhere else to go.

you could walk to kento’s apartment. he would let you in politely and make you tea. he would listen to you talk too, even if he thought that you were just being ridiculous and immature. he would still sit there, though, kind enough to let you stay.

he might even get out his fancy whiskey—if a few tears escaped and he felt sorry enough for you.

but nanami lives further into the city, and you’re too tired to walk. ijichi should be busy with gojo, and you can’t even call a cab because you left your wallet inside.

by this point you’ve walked down the pavement, stopping just as you reach the fence.

you could call shoko. she might be at school still, and she’d never turn down a drink. she would even bitch about satoru with you, shaking her head and muttering i told you so under her breath.

but then she’d be drunk and you would still be sad. there’s no point in getting shit-faced if there’s no one to take care of you when you get home. if you even went home, that is.

and—worst of all—is that even if you did go to nanami, or to shoko, they just wouldn’t understand.

they’re both stronger than you are, they take trouble by the neck and leave it lying somewhere behind as they walk away.

neither one of them knows what it feels like to be left.

worst of all, the only person you want to talk to this about is satoru.

he understands you even when he doesn’t know, but he knows about this. he could talk you down from a ledge, make the catastrophe of it all seem scarce. he could make a joke and you wouldn’t have to be afraid anymore.

and you still haven’t moved. three more steps and the house would be behind you.

but you turn. you look down to the garden, hidden by the side of the house, in all its dying glory.

the cold has been a shock to all of you, but to the plants most of all. the flowers are drooping, petals scarce, colors dull. tsumiki used to take care of the garden.

you’d never be able to take care of it like miki. you don’t have the same patience as she does, the same nurturing hand.

you might as well set it on fire—just to start anew. you’ve been meaning to.

but it’s just feels like a bad reminder, anyway.

and you stand there, for a bit, unmoving. thinking of dirt under chipped fingernails, sweaty hair and brown eyes. you think of waiting outside in the sun, looking forward to that one moment of the day where everyone comes home. the collection finally complete.

eventually you’ve been standing there for ten minutes and nothing has changed. you’re still alone, it’s still cold outside.

satoru should be gone, though. you’ve walked far enough that he wouldn’t have been able to see you from the windows. he always packs at the last minute, so he’s probably left by now.

the thought makes you even colder, and you decide that even if you’re going to leave—to god knows where—you at least need a jacket.

so you walk around the back of the house, peering through the windows just to check for any sign of him. but it’s only dark, a bit too clean inside.

it’s ridiculous to have to sneak into your own house, but you do it anyway.

you use the fence as a jump up to the roof, only hesitating a little bit. then you crawl to tsumiki’s window, carefully peeling the screen off, wondering, for just a moment, why it isn’t locked. tsumiki liked sitting in the sun, wind blowing in her hair.

it’s all very easy. high school taught you how to break into forgotten places a month in. and you got used to sneaking back inside the school, always knowing that someone would find out.

though, when you were younger there was always someone standing at the bottom, ready to catch you if you fell.

he’s just busy right now.

it takes about three minutes, by the time you’re done. at least jujutsu high was good for one thing.

but instead of going to get a jacket, or your wallet, or scoping out the house like an intruder—you sit on tsumiki’s bed, feeling that weary tiredness. the kind that only comes with time.

it’s dark in her room, flyers from months before still on the wall, her bed made, desk tidy.

it doesn’t really look any different than when she was still here.

you sit there, feeling like a fool. your finger traces the floral pattern on her duvet, and you think about how you still feel so young. how you still feeling like a teenager, with none of the answers but all of the grief.

you don’t know if you’ll ever get older, or just keep pretending to be.

your lip is twitching at the framed picture of her and megumi on the desk—and then the door creaks open.

you’re not shocked, really. there was a reason you didn’t go through the front door.

you don’t look up, but say, quietly, “shouldn’t you be gone by now? you’re going to miss your flight.”

satoru steps in, not bothering to be quiet now—even though you both know he could be, if he wanted to. he could sneak up behind someone without a blink and then destroy their entire world.

but he only shuts the door; like you both need from privacy from the quiet of your house.

“i rescheduled,” he says, stepping in. “new flight is tomorrow.”

you nod, still looking at the floor.

“i can sleep on the couch,” he adds, just a hint of humor in his voice. “if you want.

“no, you—you don’t have to.”

“well, i mean, you can, i guess, but we both know that you hate the couch.”

and you could joke—should—about how he picked out the worlds most uncomfortable couch just so you’d want to cuddle with him more, and he should deal with the repercussions.

but the words get stuck in your throat, and you just keep looking at the floor.

so satoru kneels down, and his gaze find yours instead. he’s not wearing a blindfold, or his glasses.

so you can see his red-rimmed eyes, knowing that it’s not because of tears. he’s just tired. he always works so hard.

he nudges your chin, tilting his head, “i thought… you were going to go stay somewhere else.”

your face falls.

you’ve known, maybe this entire time, that satoru wouldn’t just let you walk away. that even if he did—if, that is—his eyes were always going to follow you, stuck on the remnants of your cursed energy, the shape of your soul, tracking every step you took.

sneaking in was pointless because he was always going to know where you were. no blindfold would keep him from knowing.

for some reason, you just thought that he wouldn’t bother this time.

you close your eyes, wanting to keen into him. “i don’t have anywhere else to go.”

“i shouldn’t have said that,” satoru’s hand finds your knees, squeezing. and he sounds a little bit guilty, bothered. “you don’t belong anywhere but here.”

you shake your head, tears already sneaking out from tight eyelids.

satoru is still kneeling in front of you, waiting. “you want to talk?” he asks, knowing that you do. he always knows.

your hands cover your face, and you exhale, so strong that your shoulders shake.

“c’mon, i’m listening,” satoru tells you, nudging his head against your leg.

“satoru,” you whisper, voice trembling. “i—i cant—“

“breathe, baby, it’s alright.”

you look right at him, somehow not faltering at the intensity of his gaze. “i don’t—i don’t know how i didn’t—“ you shake your head. “i can’t do anything without you. and i never realized it before, b-because i always had the kids and they were always there, but now it’s—megumi’s gone, tsumiki’s gone, and i always knew that was going to happen but…”

satoru’s hands are careful as they wipe the tears from your cheeks.

“i hate being here alone. i don’t have anything else, satoru. even tonight i—i didn’t know where to go, or what to do. i just wanted to be here. home.”

he hums, nodding with you, listening so intently it makes you cry even more.

“and i know—i know i shouldn’t take it out on you. i know it’s not your fault. work is important, and everyone needs so much from you, and i don’t want to make that worse but i just—“

you look away finally, shaking your head.

“hey,” satoru’s hand finds yours. “it’s my fault too. i shouldn’t have taken anything you said personally. i know when you’re picking a fight,” he grins a little bit, squeezing.

“i didn’t mean it,” you whisper. “i know you don’t want to leave.”

“i know, baby.”

“i’m sorry.”

“yeah, i know,” satoru says, leaning up so he can rest his forehead against yours. “you remember when we had to make dinner and tuck the kids in bed every night?”

“yeah.”

“those were the easy days, huh?”

you give a half smile, and murmur, “you wouldn’t kiss me back then.”

satoru pulls you closer, body almost falling off of tsumiki’s bed. “i loved you, though.”

“i know.”

satoru sighs, leaving a soft kiss against your head. and then, with strength so annoying it hurts, he pulls you down to the floor with him, wrapping his arms around you.

“you gotta tell me stuff like this,” he says, finally, soft enough to feel caring, comforting. “i need to know.”

“i’m sorry—“

“uh-uh,” satoru shakes his head, squeezing you. “no sorries. i could’ve guessed. i should have. you’re just really strong, you know? it’s hard to tell.”

your brows furrow and you have to push against his chest unless he loosens his grip, just to look him in the eyes. “stronger than you?”

he smirks. “way stronger, babe. i’ll never catch up to you.”

“wow,” you grin, unbeknownst to you. “i never thought you’d say anything like that.”

satoru laughs, and he finally relaxes, just a bit. at least he can still make you smile. maybe that’s all he’s ever been able to do.

“we’re going to figure it out, okay? it’ll—it’ll get easier. we’ll fix this.”

“are you sure?”

“‘course i am.”

you nod, wishing you could fully trust him—but nothing has gotten easier in your world recently, just more complicated.

after a minute or two, satoru’s hand running up and down your back, he whispers, “you could always move back into your old dorm.”

“what?”

“you’d be around megumi, and the kids. and i would come visit you. i miss sneaking in.”

“are you kidding?”

“no, it’s a good idea. i can talk to yaga—“

[lolitasangel]

Now Playing: Slow Down, Meddle About Part Two 18+ MDNI

Song Inspo- Chase Atlantic ‘Slow Down’

Meddle About

Summary- You, your friend and the boys spend some time together while you wait for dinner. You end up alone with Noah in his bedroom again with only an hour to spare.

Word count- 3k, MDNI 18+

Tw- manhandling, fingering, reader is a brat, Noah is a dom, grinding, teasing, size kink, p in v, unprotected sex, if you feel I missed a tag please let me know

It’s been days since you and Noah have last seen each other. Your little moment in his bedroom had your stomach twisting with butterflies. Wondering what his reaction was to the little gift you had slipped and hide for him in his room. You wanted to see how far you could push him until he broke and caved.

You hadn’t replied to any of his text messages, you knew you were in for it the next time you saw him. You wondered what he would do, sneak you off into the bathroom, sneak you to somewhere more private if you were all out together. You wondered what his next move was. The more your thoughts drifted off towards Noah, your mind started to wander off on what he did.  

Noah putting you in your place was the biggest turn on for you. Even thinking about him man’s-handling you into any position he wanted you in. You knew you all would be able to meet this weekend. Nick wanted to go out for dinner and get the group together.  

It could also be Nick wanted everyone to meet so he could see Y/f. They had been talking for a while; they looked really cute together too. You weren’t sure if there were going to be any plans after that or not, if not you wanted to try and work Noah up a little more.  

The moment Noah walked into his room and got a whiff of your perfume still lingering in the room he smiled. He really liked you and you were nice and fun to hang out with. Noah wouldn’t mind taking you out on a few dates, even if it was backwards. “Who fucks first then dates” Noah mumbled to himself. He could feel some of the alcohol leaving his body feeling a little tired. He threw off his clothes, changed and got into bed.   

As he curled his arms around his pillows, he could feel his fingers get tangled in something. Confused Noah sits up, grasping the item and pulling it out. Being met with a pair of your panties. “That sneaky little…” he before he could finish a smile was already plastered on his face. Noah didn’t expect a parting gift in your end, but he didn’t mind it, reaching over to his bedside he slipped them in the drawer. “Save these for another time” he chuckled. Ignoring the hard boner forming in his pants and closing his eyes to go to sleep.   

Noah had claimed that he was controlling the game but that didn’t mean you couldn’t have any fun. If he was in control you wanted to drive him as crazy as possible. You wanted to see how far you could push him before he picked you up and fucked you until he physically couldn’t anymore.  

The morning of the dinner and night out with everyone you hopped right into the shower. You didn’t want to waste any time getting ready. Grabbing your shampoo, you start to massage the product into your hair. You weren’t told where the dinner would be so you made a mindful note for later to call and ask.   

Wrapping it up and making your way out, walking through your bathroom you stopped in your tracks. You completely forgot the gift you left Noah in his bedroom. The memory made you chuckle; you wondered what he thought. Did he ‘use’ them, did he hide them, you were curious on what his move Walking over to your bed, towel still tightly pulled around you, you go through your contacts to find Y/F. Clicking the call button, waiting for her to pick up.  

“Hey! Are you still on for tonight” you hear your friend on the other side “Yea, I just need to know where we are meeting and when.” You say, you wanted to have enough time to get ready and make sure you had everything you needed. “It’s only 12pm, we are meeting around 5 at the boys place and going from there” you nodded along to your friend words. The more she spoke you could hear her interest shift over to talking about Nick.   

Your thoughts wandered over to Noah and what he would do tonight. You still didn't want to give into caving and seeing what he thought of what you left; you wanted him to be stuck waiting to see you again. “Y/n? You still alive?” scoffing at your friends' question “yes, I am still alive, ass” you mumbled the last part under your breath.    

“Just making sure, you went quiet, thinking about Noah?” you were rummaging through your closet before the mention of Noah was brought up. “What makes you think that?” you say nonchalantly. “Considering I talk to Nick who talks to Noah” she trailed on “I’m sure you can picture the rest” you could hear the excitement coming through her voice. Your friend had been trying for ages to find you someone to mingle with. “What all were told” you were curious on what Noah said,” he really likes you, mentioned a potential date’ you could hear the teasing tones from a mile away.  

“Well, he is nice and cute” you tried to fight the small smile coming onto your face. “Well, just know he is interested and i think you should go for it”.   

After your phone call with your friend, you continued with choosing what to wear for the night. You decided to go for a simple tee-shirt and jeans. Laying out the outfit on your body you dropped your towel to the floor. Tossing it to the side to handle later. Your thoughts were already occupied. Both you and Noah have obvious interest in each other and you wouldn’t mind going on a date with him.    

During your phone call with your friend, you both decide she would swing by and pick you up until the dinner. You decided to go for a light makeup look today, and a simple outfit. You knew that at some point after the dinner the boys would want to do something else so something simple was the best to go. You decided to wait in the living room for your friend to show up. She usually let herself in to announce her presence and knowing her she would do just that. “Honey, I’m home!” your friend shouted at the top of her lungs in the front doorway.  

Not budging from your spot from the hollering, “alright, old lady I heard you” you teased at her. Causing her to drop her mouth wide open, before she could respond you were already embracing her in a hug. “I feel like it’s been forever since we have hung out” you say holding your friend close. It was true, you haven’t been able to catch up or meet with anyone since work was getting busier and busier. You were relieved to have a few days off now that the rush of the year was gone.   

You both made your way outside to her car. "When's the next time you work?" your friend asked, buckling her seatbelt. "My boss was kind enough to give me the week off" you reply waiting for her to start driving. "Sweet, we are hanging out this week" your friend rejoiced. The car ride over was pretty quick you took the time to update her on anything she missed while you were busy. You listened to her as she continued to talk about what her and Nick have been up to. They really were perfect foreach other. Nick was really nice to her and the way your friend's eyes would light up when she talked about something Nick did for her or said to her. It was nice to see your friend truly happy.   

You both arrive to the house jumping out the car quickly and making your way to the front door. Your friend reaches over ringing the doorbell and waiting for an answer. After waiting a few seconds, the front door opens revealing Nick “hey guys” he says smile big and wide, your friend rushes over giving him a hug “hi, baby” she says, “hi, love, Hi, Y/n” Nick says wrapping his arms around Y/F giving you a wave as best as he can. “Hi Nick, it’s been a while” you say giving him a quick hug. Nick opens the door welcoming you both in, the house didn’t change much since you last had been there.   

Making your way through the house with Nick and your friend you see the rest of the boys hanging around. Folio and Jolly sat in the middle of the couch in a heated match of smash brothers. “We can all hang out here until it’s time for dinner” Jolly suggests attention still on the screen. Folio shoved Jolly to the side trying to mess him up. “Yea, I need to finish whooping Jolly’s ass” Folio laughed out.   

Never minding the boys, you turn your head over to where Noah might be, noticing he wasn’t in living room. You forgot how tall he was compared to you. Even from a distance you still noticed the height difference between you two. “You can go outside to the side porch, and say hi, he’s on the phone with Matt, should be done soon” Nick tells you, getting cozy with Y/f on the couch. Smiling and nodding your head you make your way outside to where Noah now sat. Opening the door and stepping outside, shutting it behind you, you wait for Noah to notice your presence.   

From the action of Noah gesturing around he noticed you standing there. Caught off guard he couldn’t help his lips from breaking out into a smile. You give a quiet wave and smile, rocking back and forth on your heels waiting for Noah’s conversation to wrap up. “Alright, Matt, we can pick this up tomorrow or something…yes…yes…bye” Noah mumbled the last few words. Clicking the hang up button and shoving his phone back in his pocket. You walk up to him giving him a big hug “hi, Noah” you say, arms wrapped tightly around his neck. Despite the little ‘game’ you two were having you did enjoy being with him. Talking about nothing and everything at the same time, it’s been a while since someone made you feel that understood.   

“Hi, baby” he mumbled into your hair wrapping his arms tightly around your waist holding you close to his body. You pulled away grasping his arm before pulling him back inside the house.   

Making your way to the living room before Noah had pulled into a hallway closet before rounding the corner. The swift motion made you catch you breathe. Last time you and Noah were this close in compacity Noah almost took you right in the moment. Your front was pressed against his chest. Noah started to muzzle into your neck, humming to himself, breathing in your scent just the way he wanted. “I found your little gift you brat” Noah groaned in your ear. You feel Noah's hands tighten their grip on your hips. Noah could feel you under his hands trying to relieve some of the throbbing your core had felt from the pressure applied.  

Refusing to let you slip through his finger tips like the many times before. “I have no clue what you're talking about” you cried out. The feeling of Noah's hands holding you in place forbidding you to move up against his leg. The pressure of Noah’s thigh rubbing against your core was doing wanders for you. You wanted him to move so badly. This would be the second time he would work you up and leave you for the evening. “Yes, you do, you wanted to be a brat because I didn’t give you what you wanted and you decided to leave a teasing gift” Noah growled.  

Before you could reply Noah pulled you away from the door and walked out before quickly turning around, “you might want to cover that up” he whispered flashing a quick wink at you before making his way back to the living room. Deciding to quickly go to the bathroom and see what it was that he had done to you. You were familiar by now with the lay out.   

Quickly opening and closing the door behind you, turning the light on in the process. Noah left a semi visible mark on your neck. You didn't realize during the quick ‘meeting’ you had you he left a small but visible mark on your collar bone. You were relieved that you could easily cover it with a hoodie or sweatshirt. Making your way back outside to the other you took a seat between Jolly and Noah. Leaning against the back of the couch trying to calm your racing heart. The remainder of the evening was spent talking between everyone. The boys were updating you and you friend on what was going to be happening with the band this year. 

“I’m so ready for tour” Folio exclaimed punching fists in the air with a wide grin on his face. You and Noah made teasing remarks to each other throughout the time you spent together. You both poking fun at each other and even have your own ‘smash bros’ match, you won against Noah thanks to Jolly. Nick kept an eye on the time as he didn’t want to miss the reservation made for the night. It was nice getting everyone together again. Speaking up when it was almost time to head out for dinner.   

Upon hearing this the rest of the boys hopped up to go and get ready. While they made their way upstairs your phone buzzed in your back pocket. Reaching back to see who it was, you saw it was from your friend “Now’s the perfect time, GO!” shaking your head at your friend's encouragement you made your way to Noah’s room. You made your way to Noah room, remembering the which room was what like it was yesterday. You knocked gently upon the door waiting for an answer. Looking up from your feet, you were met with Noah’s eye’s, blushing and looking away you say “let me in”.   

Gawking at your statement, Noah opened his door wider, allowing you to step through. Before you could start your sentence, you felt your body softly land against his bed.   

Your front pressed against the bed, your head just barely buried in the pillow of the bed, you feel Noah’s hands start to explore your body once again. You could your hips being pulled back towards Noah's. You could feel Noah’s cock grinding against your cunt. Noah’s hands started to trail up from your hips, books and then wrists. Holding them in one fist while the other was occupied holding your hips in place. “Have you thought of this before, baby?” Noah moaned in your ear. The feeling of your pussy grinding back up against him. Letting an out a whimper in response, you were too distracted with weight of his body against you. 

Pressed up together firmly. Growling from the lack of answer, Noah flipped you around. Wrapping your legs around him holding him as close as possible. “I asked you a question, this is going to be the second time you have ignored my question, seems like you want a punishment” Noah cried out as he felt you grind up back against him. “I give you my panties and I'm met with a punishment” you sassed back, you knew that last comment would rile something in Noah up. “Keep talking and you’ll see a real punishment. Don't think I forgot about you ignoring me, baby. I should punish you just for that. You look so good, your jeans hug your ass so good" Noah said forcing you to look up and make eye contact with. “Noah, I can't wait anymore” you pleaded out. He looked so good glaring down at you, you wanted him right there in that moment.   

“What do you say, baby? Is that how you ask? I wanted to give you a thank you for your gift but you're acting up” Noah teased back. Both of your clothes were disheveled, cheeks flustered, breath panting. You felt like your veins were steaming hot from the effect Noah had over you. The way his voice dripped with seduction in your ear. The way his hands were so quick and slick, tracing his fingertips across the lining of your pants. “Please, Noah, I need it” you cried out. Your pussy was soaked from the things Noah was saying and doing to you, he was so quick but gentle with his hands. 

The callused finger tips tracing your skin softly, his lips leaving light kisses along your neck. Noah looked up from your neck wanting to see what he was doing to you. Seeing you looked so fucked out already from him barely doing anything to you made his cock throb from how hard he was for you. Noah wasn’t afraid to admit to you the thing ‘s he did to the pair of panties you left him. Fuck them with a fist full of them, pocketing them for good luck anytime he needed it or anytime he was craving you.   

“Are you sure? We can stop now” Noah says, he didn't want anything going wrong or pushing you further than what you were comfortable with. “Yes, I am sure, thank you”, Noah gently cupped your jaw with his hand. “You don’t need to thank me, at any point you want to stop tell me, I won't be mad” Noah say’s firmly, this caused a smile to come on your face “I’m sure” you say, you were grateful Noah was respectful.   

Noah continued o unbutton your jeans, slipping his hand into your panties, fingers rubbing against your clint gently. The feeling of Noah playing with you felt so good. Your body felt electrified from the feeling he was giving you. Noah started to groan into your ear about how good you felt. “You feel so warm and wet for me, i can’t wait till I can taste you; I’m going to take my time tasting you” he chuckles into your ear. Noah was taking his time sliding his fingers into your entrance 

“Please, Noah, I can take it” you needed it, craved it even. “Slow down, Baby. You need to be patient, I want to take this time feel you” As Noah growled those words into your mouth you could feel your body getting hotter and hotter. “Let me make you feel good” he said before pressing his lips against yours. Noah slips his tongue into your mouth, fighting for dominance.  Pulling away from you to catch his breath. 

You looked so beautiful beneath him at his mercy. The pleasure he was welcoming you with felt like too much. You could Noah’s thick fingers stretching your pussy. The feeling of Noah’s fingers fucking you and the filthy words he was serenading you with were all the much.  

The thought of Noah’s fingers already stretching you so much made your mind wander to his cock. Even just feeling him grind against you, you felt how much bigger he was compared to you. You wondered how much it would stretch you, how much you could take, if you could take it. The thought of being stretched out on Noah’s cock made you tighten your walls around him. You were practically putty under Noah’s hand’s, Noah could feel you tightening around him. 

” Please, Noah, please” you cried out “Please I want your cock” you begged, the way his fingers were working inside of made you need something more. “What, Baby girl, what do you need” opening your eyes back up, looking back up at Noah. Noah started to slow his fingers down the longer you took to answer. Your mind felt so good and fuzzy with him right now. “I want your cock, please” you cried, moving your hips to try and get some friction from Noah.   

“Louder, baby, just a little louder for me” Noah started to rut against your hip, he couldn’t wait to feel you squeezing his cock. The thought alone made Noah drive his lips back down meeting yours. “Please, Noah” you whimpered a little louder.   

Smirking at your response Noah sat up between your legs, Noah tugged your jeans a little further down, he was quick to tug his cock out his pants. “Before we continue, are you sure you want to go further” getting antsy from waiting you couldn’t help but snap at him in response “Damn it, Noah do I have to ask Jolly” you groaned out in frustration. The mention of another guy's lips falls between your lips as you were in his position awakened something in him. “Watch it, don’t even think about mentioning him again” Noah hissed at you, you belonged to him and no one else but him.   

Before you could respond Noah shoved his cock so far up your pussy you felt like you had lost you breathe. Pressing his lips against yours to muffle your loud cries. Noah was so much bigger and thicker than you could imagine. “Fuck, baby, you feel so good” he moaned out. The feeing of him fucking you like no tomorrow felt so good. You could feel how hard he was for you. Reaching down Noah started to play with your clit. “That’s it, baby. You feel so good wrapped around me. God, you’re so wet for me”. Noah continued to fuck you deeper into the mattress. Quickening his pace on your clit. Noah started o quicken his thrusts, grasping your waist holding you in place. Noah could feel himself getting closer and closer 

“Fuck, I'm going to cum. Are you close, baby.” Noah chuckled at how fucked out you looked; he loved this look. He loved knowing he was the reason you were feeling so good. Nodding your head, you couldn't help the light cries coming from your lips, he just felt to good. The more Noah talked in your ear the more you were brought closer to the edge of your high.

Your vision went white from the strong orgasm you had. Noah was still driving his hips into you. Noah could feel himself close to finishing "alright, baby, I'm going to pull out, okay, baby?" Noah asked, you tried your best to respond but the pleasure was too good for you. Right as Noah felt himself about to cum, he quickly pulled out aiming away from you and your clothes.  

You and Noah laid in each other's arms for a little bit, Noah had helped you get cleaned up, fixing your hair for you. "You did so good, thank you for choosing me" he mumbled into your hair pulling you closer to his body. Letting out a little chuckle, “I should be thanking you” before you can continue Noah cuts you off by pulling you into a kiss. “You can thank me another time, we have only 15 minutes left” Noah squeaked out noticing he didn’t have much time to get ready as the others. 

An- I hope you enjoy this part two, part three will be followed up hopefully soon. I tried to make it as good as the first one. I also wanna thank Mandy for giving me courage and the will to keep writing, thank you <3. I have a job interview tomorrow so I'm very nervous, I am praying I get this job. Anyways I hope you enjoyed, please like and reblog. I hope you have a good morning/evening/night.

Taglist🫶🏼- @fadingintothegrey @like-a-omen @veejezhyk @english-fucker @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @bluestdai @kaliforniahigh @flowery-mess @concreteemo @dollieomens @calleyx13 @fadingangelwisp @hurricanesfollowyou @lacy1986 @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @xxkittenkissesxx @iluvmewwwww75 @silent-stories @veephoenix @graceylove @marvelousmal @thenmaybehellaintsobadafterall @amelia-acero @disappearintothegrey @concretejunglefm @concretenoah @tikosblogg @xmads-omensx @tosoundlessdarkistare @lilcrazy011 @dominuslunae

[milla-frenchy]

Ally, wow. Damn I am speechless. This chapter is so good. This series is SO good

I'm losing my mind

When he tried to sleep all he could see was the hurt in your face. It didnt matter what he did or didn’t do because you were hurt and it was all his fault.  He hurt you and he wouldn’t be able to change that. 

🥺🥺🥺

Your fresh start to independence unexpectedly had a co-pilot, and one that you weren’t ready to fly without.   

omg this sentence 🤌🤌🤌

“Don’t mean to bother you, but the power is out and it’s gonna get real cold tonight.. over here.” He puts his hand on the door to push it open slightly wider as he steps forward. “I’d like you to stay at my place.” His sincere eyes searched yours, looking for any sort of indication how you were feeling about his offer.   “Won’t get in your way, I promise. Just helping out… a neighbor.” He hesitates on the last words. “And I promised your dad.” he admits sheepishly.

Yes yes yes, please, say yes 😍😍😍 (she said yes, thank youuuuuu)

His protective nature was called into action and he didn’t want to have to force you to do anything.

ughhhhh each time I hear about his protective nature I MELT

Damnit, Joel Miller. He was making it so hard to stay mad at him. 

So true 😌😌😌

You wanted your Joel back. The one that was rough around the edges. The one that made you come alive in ways you didn’t know were possible when he had you under his weight. The one that took what he wanted and left you fucked out and wanting more and more. Ruining future men forever.  

ALLY. jfc. I can feel it, all of it, as if I was reader. GURL

And still, he needed you. Craved your body and your warmth that your smile radiated. Craved that innocence you had that he loved to corrupt. The way that you made him feel when you needed him. You were so smart and capable, but he saw how your eyes lit up when he did things for you. He made sure to be there for you before you ever asked. He wanted to take care of all your problems. Protect you and make sure you never wanted for anything. The way your body called to him. How right you made his world feel. Now that you were part of it, how could it be any other way?     

"That innocence you had that he loved to corrupt"?

"He wanted to take care of all your problems"? "Protect you and make sure you never wanted for anything"?

"The way your body called him"?

ALLY§§§ we need to talk 😌😌

You were getting settled in, wrapped up in another blanket and reading your book by candle light when you heard a knock on the door frame. You lock eyes with him. There is a heavy sadness in them.  “Can we talk for a second?” 

Ok. I think I'm not gonna be able to breathe, reading this conversation (I'm rb ing live, and you're killing me in the best way 😍😍😍)

“She was twelve when… when she died.” he says as he takes the photo back into his hands with an unsteady grasp.

I WASN'T EXPECTING IT

“Then I met Tess. The night I was going to... be done with it all.” He stumbles over his words, battling with the crudeness that he couldn’t stop from pouring out of his mouth. 

OMG

He looks up at you as you make your way over to stand in front of him.  “Promise me.” you beg. “Promise me that you won’t hurt me...” You pause. “Ever again.” It was an absurd demand, but it was what you needed to hear from him. 

FUCK

His hand comes up to cup your cheek and cranes your jawline upward to match your gaze. “I’m yours, if you’ll let me.” Now you were a goner. 

He dropped to his knees with his hands firmly grappling your hips he pulled you in close to him. His hot breath tickled as he thumbed your panties down to expose your cunt. “This is mine”

FUCK ME

He was mindful of making it last as long as possible for you, practicing some restraint that he often ignored. This was about you. Apologizing with his tongue in a way that his words could never.

excuse me???? Ally you little devil 😌😍

and then, the all fours... this was amazing

jfc this chapter ruined me 😍😍😍🤌

The Wolf You Feed (6)

Joel Miller x Female Reader Part 6 (Ongoing) | Rated Explicit | 6.5k WC | Series Masterlist | Read it on AO3

Summary: Set in a fictional New England town, you fall for your handsome, intense and outdoorsy neighbor while renting out your parent's vacant summer home during a brutal winter.

Chapter Warnings: ANGST. Smut. POV-Switching. Rated Explicit. 18+ MDNI. (CHAPTER SPOILERS AHEAD) Some possible triggers including mentioning death of a child and contemplated suicide. Smut includes P in V, oral (female receiving). See series masterlist for general warnings.

A/N: Hang in there my loves, I'll ease your pain by the end of this chapter (with smut, of course) 🧡 Also my inbox is always open if you wanna talk about TWYF / ask questions! Or anything really. It really means the world 🧡

JOEL

“No, Tommy. I really did fuck it up.” He sighed into the phone. Defeated and sad. 

Joel had reached out to his brother when he was at his wits end. He didn’t recognize who he was becoming and needed to talk to someone before his anger just consumed him whole. 

He broke down and told Tommy everything about you. The one person he really could confide in, and once he opened his mouth he couldn’t stop. 

For the most part Tommy was trying to be understanding but also was caught off guard. Tess was practically family as far as he was concerned. He thought you might just be an indulgence for him. A shiny, new toy for him to play with. He didn’t really see you as a viable partner. Joel didn’t dare tell him how young you were, but Tommy seemed to pick that up on his own the way he talked about you.

“You can probably still work it out with Tess.” Tommy pushes.

“I aint interested in working out anything with her.” He snapped.   

“Ok. Ok, Joel.” He conceded his last attempt to bring things back to normal. He realized that Joel was a different person now. They were not close like they used to be, but he never realized just how much Joel was struggling. Lost. He needed someone on his side, not against him. 

“Look, man. Just give her space. Don’t be a hot head and scare her off.” Tommy tries to reason with him. Tommy always was the one who was more of a people person. His successful life with his wife Maria was something he embraced proudly. It changed him in a way that made him more responsible. 

As they grew older, it was strange how things were shifting. Joel was always the protective big brother, but now Tommy was  starting to fill that role with his grounded life experiences giving him more wisdom. 

“A real help you are.” Joel mutters and throws his phone onto the table and taps his fingers, agitated. Not exactly at Tommy, but he was letting his anguish escape however it needed to. He knew Tommy would understand that he was acting more like a wounded animal that was scared.  

He was finally acknowledging that after all his shitty behavior this is the hand he was dealt. He couldn't sweet talk you into forgiving him and he no longer had Tess on standby to console him. Tommy was trying to be supportive but he just didn’t know how.

When he tried to sleep all he could see was the hurt in your face. It didnt matter what he did or didn’t do because you were hurt and it was all his fault. 

He hurt you and he wouldn’t be able to change that. 

—

YOU

Days go by in silence and you’re not sure how to feel about it. Part of you wanted Joel to fight, but the other part was glad he obeyed. Respecting your demands to leave you alone. 

The nights were the worst. You almost gave in to calling him on several occasions. Even if he did wrong, something about him still called to you. A relentless need that you had no control over. 

You were nearing the two month mark living in Kineo, and Joel had been present in almost all of it. Your fresh start to independence unexpectedly had a co-pilot, and one that you weren’t ready to fly without.   

You kept it all to yourself. Marlene never brought it up and you put on a smile at work. It felt like you were just floating through the week with no real purpose or direction. You had paid little attention to anything beyond what was right in front of you. 

The snow was falling quickly, and in the last few hours of your Thursday shift nobody was out buying coffee. There was a major snowstorm that was just starting to ramp up. You had heard many customers fretting about it over the past few days, but didn’t give it much thought. Apparently it was a big deal and you should have been more prepared, but you would figure it out. 

Tess stopped by and your stomach was in knots. She looked numb and business focused, like this was also a distraction she was leaning on to get by. She scuffed the snow off her boots in the doorway and called out to you both. In too much of a hurry to go past the door. 

“Ladies, close up and go home. We’re closed tomorrow too.” She left after you both acknowledged and you were so grateful that it was a quick encounter. You weren't ready to face her just yet, and keeping a secret from her was taking its toll. It felt wrong, and it was slowly eating away at you. 

The ride home was treacherous and you could barely see out your windshield. This was the first real brutal winter storm you encountered since moving and regretted not preparing for it at all. As you got closer and closer to your house you noticed how dark it was. The ominous grey storm clouds blocking whatever little light was left for the day. The only lights you saw were the flashing orange on the upcoming plow truck. 

The house is icy and dark. You go to flick the switch just to confirm the power is out. You use the flashlight on your phone to stumble into the kitchen where you find a few candles to light. 

This was going to suck.

Headlights shine into the front window and you see a truck parked at the end of your driveway. 

Joel.

You answer the knock at the door. Your pulse beating with intrigue, as if your body finally settled on needing his presence more than not. 

You open the door halfway, wanting to be angry at him but finding yourself enamored with how the snow was sticking to his perfectly tousled hair. 

Of course he couldn’t give up the neighborly act and you wondered his true intentions. 

“Don’t mean to bother you, but the power is out and it’s gonna get real cold tonight.. over here.” He puts his hand on the door to push it open slightly wider as he steps forward. “I’d like you to stay at my place.”

His sincere eyes searched yours, looking for any sort of indication how you were feeling about his offer.  

“Won’t get in your way, I promise. Just helping out… a neighbor.” He hesitates on the last words. “And I promised your dad.” he admits sheepishly.

You roll your eyes at that. Your mom and dad were always getting into your business. You had ignored their calls all week so it wasn’t a surprise that they reached out to him.

His offer seemed genuine and you were getting concerned about how cold the house already was. Your candles and flashlights would only do so much.

“Ok.” You agree, giving little emotion. You didn’t want him to think you were conceding easily. You were just being practical. 

Truthfully, you could only suppress the way your body still ached for him for so long.

You feel that heat inside you try to ignite the smallest flame. The feeling that just wouldn’t die despite it all. A spark waiting dormant at any chance to catch. As much as you tried to ignore it, it was still there.

Joel looked relieved that you agreed to it. His protective nature was called into action and he didn’t want to have to force you to do anything. Even if you were icing him out, he still felt a duty to make sure you were safe. Of course, he hoped in time you would forgive him, but for now this was all that really mattered. 

“And I gotta bleed the pipes so they don’t freeze. Told your dad I’d take care of his place.” He pushes the door open even more as he steps forward, and you can smell the coldness radiate off his body along with the leathery scent from his jacket. The fleeting thought of wrapping your body around him and inhaling his scent was overpowering.  

His bullish advance felt intrusive but also non-negotiable as he snapped you out of your delulu. 

You step aside so he can come in. You just now notice his bag of tools and industrial flashlight. Contractors. 

It doesn't take him long and you keep your distance, sticking to your bedroom and packing a bag with the essentials. After a few minutes he knocks on the door to get your attention. You don’t open it, and let him speak to you through the door. Trying to establish that you still have boundaries and your bedroom is one of them.

“What?” you ask with a forced annoyance.

He pauses for a moment and then his husky voice seeps through the cracks.  

“I gotta plow a few houses before it gets much worse. Get your stuff together and let yourself in. The fire is stoked and the house is warm.”

You hear his footsteps as he walks away after waiting a moment. That spark inside burns hotter. A want. You missed him, and you needed him but you had to stay strong. 

Damnit, Joel Miller. He was making it so hard to stay mad at him. 

—

His home was so warm and inviting. The wood stove was so practical and cozy. You started to feel like a character in one of your books in some remote cabin in the woods. You had added a few logs to keep it burning. Joel had them neatly stacked nearby and it wasn’t too difficult to figure out. 

A few hours passed before Joel returned home. He entered the house with nothing but a polite nod to acknowledge you made it over safely and an approving glance at the freshly stoked fire. 

You had been reading in front of the wood stove, wrapped in a blanket. He kept his word and left you alone for the most part. He spent most of his time up in his loft after telling you he fixed up the bedroom for you to sleep in and implied that he would resign to the couch when he was ready to sleep. 

The comforting smell of the burning wood and the crackle the fire made was peaceful. There were a few lit candles giving the cabin an authentically rustic feel. Even if they were there to be practical, it felt romantic. 

For reasons you couldn’t explain, you felt a pang of disappointment in how much of a gentleman he was being to you. It made you feel guilty for being so cold towards him, and annoyed at how respectful he was being to your boundaries. He was doing exactly what you asked him to, and yet you were realizing it wasn’t what you expected. Pushing him away didn’t make you stop wanting him. It was just the safest way to protect your feelings. It was lonely.

The longer you sat in solitude, the more you reflected on what you really wanted. Still, you felt paralyzed to take that next step, riddled with guilt for Tess and a wavering disdain for Joel. You wanted your Joel back. The one that was rough around the edges. The one that made you come alive in ways you didn’t know were possible when he had you under his weight. The one that took what he wanted and left you fucked out and wanting more and more. Ruining future men forever.  

You could have him back, if you just forgave him, but that would also mean coming to terms with the aftermath of what happened. Talking about it. Making it real. 

—

JOEL

He kept to himself quietly in the upstairs loft, trying to keep himself calm. You were right there, content and safe, still not speaking to him beyond what was necessary. Having you so close and still so out of reach was eating him alive, but at least you were there. 

Not having electricity for a hot shower didn’t help his mood. He was able to freshen up with a washcloth, deodorant and change into a clean shirt. The heat rising from the wood stove made the loft extra toasty. The worn loveseat where he often strummed his guitar was welcoming to his tired body. It sucked in his weight and creaked in protest as he shifted to prop his legs up over the arm and lounge back. 

The day took a toll on him. An early start doing 10 hours worth of contractor work and then spending many more plowing and shoveling snow. He was tired and his muscles ached, but it was nothing in comparison to how heavy his heart felt. 

He swiped through the final photos you sent to him, as he did every night, admiring everything about them. Beyond the obvious, it was the look in your eyes. The happiness and longing for him that you once had. 

He felt his jeans tighten as he focused on your perfect breasts and your swollen clit, begging for his touch. Remembering how your body felt as if it was made to take him. He needed to be inside you again and then hold you forever and never let you go.  

You were too good for him. You deserved more than a washed up old man who couldn’t even be honest with you. 

And still, he needed you. Craved your body and your warmth that your smile radiated. Craved that innocence you had that he loved to corrupt. The way that you made him feel when you needed him. You were so smart and capable, but he saw how your eyes lit up when he did things for you. He made sure to be there for you before you ever asked. He wanted to take care of all your problems. Protect you and make sure you never wanted for anything. The way your body called to him. How right you made his world feel. Now that you were part of it, how could it be any other way?     

Honesty. It was all he had left to give if you would let him. 

Joel looked at a worn photo that he kept in his wallet. He had to make things right. He had to try.  

—

YOU

Joel had used the gas stovetop to heat up some canned soup and it was the first time he interrupted you, offering a bowl. 

After awkwardly navigating around each other in the kitchen, you thank him and resign to his bedroom, alone. You leave the door slightly open so the heat from the wood stove would warm the room. A double wick candle he thoughtfully left for you on the nightstand flickers the room in soft glow. 

Despite the warm balsam scent from the burning wax, the room smells overwhelmingly of Joel. Clean. Masculine. His woodsy cologne that never overpowered but always made itself known. The same blue comforter that you laid under before but a fresh pair of gray colored sheets. They were perfectly smooth. Unwrinkled and untouched since he placed them on the bed for you. It filled you with a sadness as you balled your hand into the sheets, mourning the beautiful memories.

God damnit, Joel. 

You were getting settled in, wrapped up in another blanket and reading your book by candle light when you heard a knock on the door frame.

You lock eyes with him. There is a heavy sadness in them. 

“Can we talk for a second?” 

It was his house after all. You felt you owed him at least a conversation. Even if it was that conversation. 

You close your book as you hesitantly swing your legs over the side of the bed. The door creaks open wider and he stands in the doorway with a hand on the knob, looking for permission to come in. The way his t-shirt was straining against the flex his biceps made you flutter. It wasn’t fair how attractive he was without even trying.

“I guess.” You concede and quickly bring your gaze to the floor. Afraid your body would betray you as your heartbeat quickened.  

Joel enters slowly and walks over to the edge of the bed, sitting a respectable distance away from you. Close enough to touch you, but not invading your space.  

“I uh, don’t know how to say it exactly.” he nervously starts. He was acting differently. Lacking that confidence he so expertly wielded. Vulnerable.     

He pulls out a worn and folded paper and opens it gently to reveal a little girl. She looked young. 11, maybe 12. 

He slides the photo into your hands as you study it, unsure what he was getting at.

“That's my baby girl, Sarah.” His voice is low but heavy with emotion. His hands clasped between his legs and thumbs fidgeting. 

“You have a daughter?” you ask, completely caught off guard. Nothing in Joel’s world left any clues to him having children or a family. You approach this new knowledge with trepidation, noting how old the photo was and wondering where she is now. “Shes beautiful.” 

You can see some similar features when you look closely, except that she was smiling big. Something Joel rarely did. 

He isn’t crying but you can see that glossy look over his eyes. This was a memory that hurt. Your chest tightens, picking up on his pained hesitancy to speak his next words. 

“She was twelve when… when she died.” he says as he takes the photo back into his hands with an unsteady grasp.

Oh my God. His revelation hurts to hear. He looks down to the floor, hunched over slightly with his hands gripping the edge of the bed on each side of him. 

You rest your hand on top of his and feel his skin go taunt over his knuckles as he balls his hand into a fist. Trying to keep his composure. 

“Tommy and I were there by her side. She was sick and the doctors didn’t know how to make her better.” He paused. “I… couldn’t save her.” His voice just above a whisper and you wonder if he meant to say it out loud, as if he had been harboring that guilt for years. 

“Joel I… I’m so sorry.” You wipe the tear that falls down your cheek. “I had no idea.” 

You sit in silence with him, letting the news wash over you both. Unsure what to do other than be at his side while he was lost in his painful memories. 

“S’been almost 20 years, but a day don’t go by I don’t think about her.” He folds the photo and puts it back into his pocket. His voice steadies and he takes a breath as if a huge weight was lifted off of him. 

You felt privileged that he was sharing this piece of his life with you. It was clearly not something he went around telling everyone. It put things into perspective, too. 

He was a dad. 

“Before you start wonderin’ it.” He looks at you knowing full well you are going to be thinking about his history sooner or later. “Raised her myself since her mother left us when she was barely a year old.” He hesitates to say more, like that part didn’t matter. “Sarah was my entire world.”

You feel at a loss with what to say. The more he opened up the more silent you were. He had experienced so much that you never knew about. A single dad. Losing a child. You settle with just closing your hand on his and moving closer to him. What could you possibly say? No, you needed to just listen. He was opening up in a way he never had before, and you suspected rarely would again. 

“M’ telling you this because there's more.” He pauses. “I tried to move on, but I couldn’t stay in Texas. Wasn’t home anymore without her there. Tommy and I went to Boston to start over. He had nothing tyin’ him to Texas either and we can be contractors anyplace. Thought it would help.” He skoffs at that, mimicking how naive he was. “It didn’t.”

You could feel the shift in the room. The feeling that he was about to share something else vulnerable. 

“I… I didn’t see the point in livin’ anymore.” he says with a blank stare, lost as if he was reliving that moment of hopelessness. Ashamed of his weakness. 

“You don’t have to-” you try to interrupt, not wanting him to feel he owes sharing this story with you when you can see how much it hurts him. Part of you is uncomfortable with the rawness of his past he was exposing. Not because it is hard to think about, but because it hurts to imagine him being so desperate and lost that it was his only option.    

He held his hand out towards you, fingers fanned wide, urging you to let him finish before he drops it back slowly to his side.

“Then I met Tess. The night I was going to... be done with it all.” He stumbles over his words, battling with the crudeness that he couldn’t stop from pouring out of his mouth. 

“Joel..” you plea. Not sure if you were strong enough, worthy enough, to hear all this. Until you realized he had to get this story out. Who knows how long he had kept it bottled up to himself.  

“She gave me a reason to keep going. Became my rock. The only person that understood that pain… because she lost her son too. Two people at the end of their rope.”

You never knew Tess had a son. It was so easy to see how two headstrong people could connect and bond over the shared traumatic experience of losing a child.  

“We helped each other… survive.” he sounds unsure about the word choice. “We moved here intending to live separate lives but we clung on to each other. It worked for a while, but we lost sight of where we started… and where we were going.”

He didn’t need to say any more. You knew exactly what he meant. Their entire relationship was built on empathy and survival. They became codependent on each other. 

“I’ll always be grateful for what she did for me. I owe her my life.” He nods, agreeing with his words that he was perhaps speaking out loud for the first time. 

“It doesn’t make anything that I did right. M’not telling you this for pity. Tess will always be someone I love, but we are not the same people we were back then. We were holding onto each other because we were too scared to be alone. Took me a long time to figure that out. Too damn long.”

You detect that annoyance returning to his voice. A resentment.  

“And Tess… she aint got there yet. Don’t think she ever will. And I can’t keep livin’ like that.”

It didn’t make his actions hurt you any less, but it gave you a new perspective. You didn’t know how deep their relationship went and you didn’t realize he felt an obligation to her that he was just starting to understand. 

“And I’ve been feeling this for a long time now, well before I met you. Just go’in along each day with no direction. Not givin’ a shit.”

He stops and looks you in the eyes, intense and deadly serious.

“Was you that made me realize I had been searching for this.” He flips his hand over and his fingers weave with yours. You can feel the desperation and the want in his touch as his thumb grazes over yours. His brow softens.

“Knew it when I first met you and I couldn’t stop thinkin’ bout you night after night. That I had to take back my life. That existing aint the same as living.” 

You wrap your arms around his waist and pull yourself into his chest, breathe in his warm scent and want nothing more than to be in his arms again. Right or wrong you don’t care anymore. This is what you want. You want Joel.   

He wraps his arms around you and envelops you in his heat. You can feel his heartbeat singing into your ear with a heavy thud. Strong and resilient. His safe embrace silently apologizing for hurting you along the way. Promising you he wouldn’t ever hurt you again. 

His honesty made him less of a mystery now. His hardened exterior was built up over the years of living with this horrible hand he was dealt. Now that you knew the truth, you could finally start to make sense of everything.

Forgive him, even. At least try to. 

“I’m sorry.” he presses a kiss onto the top of your head and holds you. “I’m so sorry.” 

—

After holding you for a few moments Joel untangled from you and left you to your privacy, continuing his respectful act. Giving you time to process everything he said. Your mind was racing, analyzing everything. Calculating what happens next.

You knew if you crossed that line you would need to forgive him for what he did, and come to terms with sneaking around and indulging in a forbidden romance. At least, if you wanted to keep your job and the only other friendship you had going. Your parents could never find out either. They would never approve of you being with someone almost as old as them, let alone enable it any longer by allowing you to live in their home. You would have to cross that bridge later. This wasn’t about anyone else though. This was about you and Joel and what you wanted. 

Your next steps were heavy weighing your options, but also so very clear. No longer could you deny the way he made you feel and the way he made you ache for him when apart. He was remorseful for what he put you through. You could see it in his eyes. Hear it in his voice. Feel it in his touch.

Forgiving Joel would also solidify your relationship. It would be you and only you going forward. No more questionable lines of what you were and what you weren’t. 

You made your way out to the living room and saw Joel sitting near the wood stove, wearing reading glasses and a worn book opened in his lap. You didn’t take him for a man that would read for pleasure, but then again you can only do so much without electricity. He looked so peaceful with the glow of the fire illuminating him. A peace that only came with being so open. Everything between you felt lighter, like this was what needed to happen to get to this point.   

He looks up at you as you make your way over to stand in front of him. 

“Promise me.” you beg. “Promise me that you won’t hurt me...” You pause. “Ever again.” It was an absurd demand, but it was what you needed to hear from him. 

He takes off his glasses and closes his book, standing up to join you. His wide and towering body over yours made you feel so small in his shadow. Helpless against him but always safe with him. 

His greys caught the light of the fire, reminding you how much older he was and how much it turned you on. His well kept form only made him more and more attractive to you. Everything about him made you want him. An insatiable desire that you couldn’t deny any longer.  

“I promise, sweetheart,” he says as he sweeps your hair behind your ear and tenderly holds his palm against you. It makes you feel weak. 

“And… Tess?”

“Only you.” He says gently as he takes your hands in front of him. He repeats softer and pushes his forehead into yours as he leans over you, whispering “Only you.”

His hand comes up to cup your cheek and cranes your jawline upward to match your gaze. “I’m yours, if you’ll let me.”

Now you were a goner. 

His lips press into you and you melt into him. His tongue wastes no time to push inside and ravage your mouth. You give in to him, letting him consume you and relishing in his neediness to have you. 

His hands roam under your shirt, pulling it off hastily over your head. Your lips part only briefly. His roughness on your skin is welcomed as he thumbs at your waist band and urges you to step out of your lounge pants. 

You return the urgency, tugging at his shirt to make it disappear. His broad chest was a sight you would never tire of. Wide shoulders that could wrap you up effortlessly. 

Joel tore from your lips and trailed his mouth along your jawline. Nipping at the supple skin and gently biting at your neck as he removed your bra. He slid out of his jeans and boxers while he distracted you with his mouth.

You tip your head back as he goes lower, scruff scraping against your collarbone. Trailing lower and lower, dragging along your breasts. He took you into his mouth, letting his tongue dance lightly over your hardening nipples. Sucking with increasing ferocity until he released you with a wet pop and repeated the same on the other side.

He dropped to his knees with his hands firmly grappling your hips he pulled you in close to him. His hot breath tickled as he thumbed your panties down to expose your cunt.

“This is mine” he declared with a wicked grin as he slid your panties down your legs. His possessiveness couldn’t help but show itself and it was something that drove you wild. A pillar in your relationship that he was establishing and leaving no room to question. You were his.  

He wasted no time, nudging his nose into your clit as his tongue made quick work of your needy mess. Muffling his face into your heat with a hunger.

Your legs were unsteady but he had such a grip on you, holding you firmly against his face while he devoured you. His scruff getting damp while you started to drip for him. His rough patches sent shivers through your body as they grazed your softest skin while his lips and tongue pleasured you. He rubbed himself against you like a feral cat. Letting your wetness mark him. 

He couldn’t get enough of you. His muffled moans vibrated against you exquisitely as he tasted you and moaned in delight.  

Your hands found a home in his grey locks of hair, grabbing tightly with each flick of his tongue making you come more and more undone. He knew exactly how to touch you, drawing moans and gasps from your lips while he buried himself deeper. Pausing on the spots where you reacted the most with expert precision.

He started to take his time, relishing in your sweetness and giving you more and more with each tug against him. He was mindful of making it last as long as possible for you, practicing some restraint that he often ignored. This was about you. Apologizing with his tongue in a way that his words could never.

You tried to hold on as long as you could as your muscles weakened and your breathing shallowed. You cried out his name as your orgasm washed over you. He lapped up your sweetness as you rode the wave. 

He gently guided you down to join him on the floor, leaving sloppy, open mouthed kisses against your belly.   

You were gasping for breath as your heartbeat slowed. He leaned forward, pressing his lips into yours and plunging his tongue inside. You could taste yourself on him. He pulled away and gave a pleased smirk as his eyes narrowed over his nose. 

You sat back on your haunches  with your legs spread open. He eyed you up and down like you were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

“I don’t deserve you.” he says almost in disbelief. 

“I know.” you tease.

His cock looked painfully hard. You reach a hand towards him and wrap your fingers around his girth. He was so impossibly thick. His veiny shaft called to you like a siren song that twitched under your touch. 

He wrapped his fingers around yours, engulfing them as you pumped his cock together. Slow and intimate. The increasing tightness of his skin made you feel guilty for having come already when he was so on edge. You could feel how ready he was and how disciplined he was behaving. You were anxious to have him inside you again as you brushed your thumb over his slit and felt his wetness beading.  

“Turn over, sweetheart.” he reluctantly pulls your hand away from his throbbing heat. Your finger drags along the tip as he pulls it off and is wet with his precome. You bring your shiny fingertip to your mouth and lick it clean as you stare at him. The filthy display makes him groan through gritted teeth.

You then obeyed, maneuvering yourself so you were on all fours with your backside to the fire. Grateful for the fur throw rug that was soft on your hands and knees.  

He stifled a groan as he shuffled up behind you, sitting up on his knees. He reached around to your front and pressed his fingers to your opening, pleased to find you still wet and begging to be filled. He dipped just his finger tip inside to tease you, reminding you how thick his fingers were, and how much they paled in comparison to his cock. You pressed back against him and let out a needy moan as he plunged his middle finger in deeper. Your desire to have any part of him inside you was overwhelming.

He pulled all the way out and circled your clit with his wet fingertips, making you whimper. You were still sensitive and swollen from moments before.

“Gonna fill you up, sweetheart. Promise.” his Texan accent came out thick.

He pressed his hips into you as he looked down your back, settling himself between your legs. His hands grabbed your hips and he lined up with your entrance, taking his time. Relishing in your shared bodies once again. His fingers kneaded you gently, holding tightly. Afraid if he let go he would lose you again. 

He slid a hand up your spine, pushing you down the closer he got to your shoulders, urging you to relax while he held you up at your hips. Your fingers curled into the fur carpet as his cock nudged you. 

Oh, how you missed it.

The wait was agonizing. Facing the window, the world looked so peaceful. A black mirror reflecting only the shimmer of the falling snow catching the light from the fire. It was quiet, calming and isolated. For this moment, all that mattered was you and him.

He split you open on his cock as he thrust in, slowly. You could feel his broad head catching on you as he pushed in and out. Working himself a little deeper with each push forward. It was agonizingly slow and you could only imagine how difficult it was for him to be patient. His raspy moans caught in throat with every thrust as your tight walls choked him. 

He was fully sheathed inside you, his hips flush with your body as he held you there for a moment. You were filled to the brim with him and it felt intoxicating to have him inside you. His entire length being strangled by your cunt. You could feel his neediness growing, and his desire to lose himself in you. His throbbing cock begging to come. 

He wanted more.  

He pulled your hips back as he pushed into you, stuffing as much of him inside as he could and being present with how tight you were. 

He was relishing in having you again. His right hand left marks as it clawed into you and you could feel his desperation build while left hand slapped onto your ass and firmly gripped you. He pulled you into him and held you still and he could feel your pussy clenching him, begging for friction. Swallowing him as deep as he could go.

“Joel… please.” you beg him to move with your delirious whines. 

Then he fucked you. Slow. Hard. Desperate to make it last. Controlling his urge to lose himself until you were moaning and begging for him. Every thrust into you an apology and a promise.

It didn’t take long. 

When he came you could feel his heat spilling inside you. Pumping you full of his devotion. You cried out as you rode the wave with him, taking in every drop of his spend as you writhed on his cock. 

You fell forward as he pulled out of you, gasping for air. He leaned over your body, his softening cock dragging against you as he leaned down to kiss your neck. Then he collapsed to the side of you.

He reached to the couch to grab a pillow and the blanket that was hung over the side. It wasn’t the most comfortable, but there was no place you wanted to be other than in his arms, engulfed by his heat and filled so much that cum was leaking out of you. Surrounded by the warmth of the fire and smelling sweat and pine. 

He pulled you tight against his body with his bicep curled under you to support your head. The length of his body pressed into your backside as he held you close, never wanting to let go. Never wanting to lose you again.

He kissed the top of your head again gently and used his free arm to rub your side soothingly as you both caught your breath. 

Joel caressed your sides up to your shoulder until you were fast asleep, stealing secret moments to press a kiss to your body or breathe you in. Holding you so tightly to his body that nobody would dare try to take you away from him. Possessive and determined to prove to you everyday how sorry he was and how important you were to him.

Tonight was something different. It was an intimate side of Joel you had not seen on this level before. You had no doubt that his rough dominance would return with a welcome vengeance, but tonight he was showing you a different part of him. Coming to terms that he was being vulnerable with you because he trusted you.

You faded in and out of sleep, each time comforted when you felt his heat against your body and his heartbeat thumping against your back. 

Despite what happened in the past, this moment felt right. Joel Miller had you hook, line and sinker.  

To be continued...

A O 3 | M A S T E R L I S T | N O T I F I C A T I O N S

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[scribescrawls]

Listen I understand that it probably wouldn’t make sense, but I think one of the funniest bots Pharma could have had a one night stand with pre-Cybertronian Civil War is Overlord. Especially if this is pre-relationship Tarnma where they might have gotten together by now if Tarn wasn’t being his usual idiot clown self. I just think it’s funny cause I think Tarn finding out Pharma has slept with Overlord would break his brain. Guy you hate with all your guts has slept with guy you’re down bad for. Tragic lol.

Tarn: So me being a Decepticon and leader of the DJD is a problem, but fragging Overlord The Phase Sixer is fine?!

Pharma: He wasn’t Overlord The Phase Sixer when I fragged him!

Pharma: Wait. Why am I trying to justify myself to you like we’re conjunxes or even together at all? Who I’ve fragged or will frag is none of your business! Why do you even care who I do and don’t frag?!

Tarn: Because you’re my-

Pharma, with his arms crossed: Your what?

Tarn, about to choose the wrong dialogue option and put his foot in his mouth: You’re my prisoner!

Overlord, purposely throwing fuel on the fire to bully Tarn for his own amusement: Oh so you haven’t experienced the doctor’s full range of skills? I assumed you two were together though that’s my mistake for thinking you were able to get your head out of Megatron’s aft long enough to see what’s beside you. Your loss. I know from experience Pharma is very good with every tool at his disposal and I do mean every tool 😈

Pharma to Overlord amused: So Trepan huh? I see you still have that needle kink

Overlord: Well our night was enlightening in some ways

The rest of the DJD overhearing this, lowkey kind of impressed that Pharma slept with Overlord and lived to tell the tale. Meanwhile, Tarn’s Cybertronian equivalent of blood pressure is probably skyrocketing.

It was also probably like textbook one night stand. Zero romantic or emotional attraction. It went name, quick medical scan, berth in that order. Both just wanted one thing that night, mutually beneficial, had a good kinky time and then they never saw or spoke to each other again for over four million years exactly how they wanted it.

[eternallyordinary]

"He Belongs to You" Part 19

⁺˚⋆。°✩₊✩°。⋆˚⁺ ˚ ༘ ⁺˚⋆。°✩₊✩°。⋆˚⁺ ˚ ༘ ⁺˚⋆。°✩₊✩°。⋆˚⁺ ˚ ༘ ⁺˚⋆。

I KNOW MY KIDS ARE HUNGRY LETS EAT <33333 i've been reading through previous chapters and tweaking some things (note to self: write before you're half a bottle of wine deep) lololol anyways pls send me any suggestions and pls pls reblog if you’re enjoying the series :') i'm so hyperfixated on homelander rn i won't be ending this series anytime soon!!! but if i do find a new obsession i promise i'll give y'all a killer ending hehe. love you baddies <3

Series Masterlist<3

Summary: Homelander has shown you his darkest sides. Why can't you do the same?

Warnings: violence, language, posessive behavior, trauma, SA trauma, controlling partner, yandere (lmk if i forgot something)

⁺˚⋆。°✩₊✩°。⋆˚⁺ ˚ ༘ ⁺˚⋆。°✩₊✩°。⋆˚⁺ ˚ ༘ ⁺˚⋆。°✩₊✩°。⋆˚⁺ ˚ ༘ ⁺˚⋆。

The text message echoed in your mind, looping like a broken record.

we need to talk. it’s about them. we need to talk. it’s about them.

Each repetition sent a fresh wave of unease through you, your anxiety clawing its way to the surface.

And of course, Homelander noticed. How could he not?

No matter how skilled you’d become at masking your emotions from the world, hiding them from him was nearly impossible. He caught the subtle signs—the way your fingers picked at your cuticles, the restless way you toyed with the hem of your top.

Every tell, every shift in your body language, laid bare under his unwavering gaze.

Your phone continues to vibrate against the kitchen counter.

Fuck. Can it stop?

A second time.

A third.

The sound is deafening in the silence, each buzz drilling further into your nerves.

Homelander’s gaze snaps to it, jaw tightening at the way your fingers hesitate—at the way you just stare at the screen, like it holds something you don’t want him to see.

And honestly? You don’t even know why. You have no idea what this message means. But you know how things go. You know how baggage pushes people away, how it warps the way they look at you.

And him? Homelander? He’s the last person you want to see you unravel.

So you hesitate. You stall.

Stupid girl.

As if he wouldn’t figure it out.

His expression shifts—annoyance first, then suspicion.

His blue eyes flick to yours, sharp, searching.

Reading you like a book you thought you’d kept locked shut.

He storms over to the phone, snatching it off the counter before hurling it into your hands.

"You're acting weird." His voice is tight, clipped—like he's barely holding something back.

"What?" you stammer, but you already know what’s coming.

"Unlock it."

"Homelander, I don't know who it is. I promise—"

"Now."

The word is sharp, slicing through the tension like a blade.

Your breath catches in your throat. His eyes are locked on you—unblinking, expectant. The weight of his stare alone makes your hands shake as you bring the phone closer, your fingerprint hovering over the screen before it unlocks with a soft click.

His gaze drops, scanning the message.

A slow exhale.

A pause.

Then—his eyes snap back up.

"Who the fuck is this?"

You swallow hard. "I—I don’t know."

That answer isn’t enough. You see it in the way his jaw twitches, the way his grip tightens around the phone.

His stare sharpens, cutting straight through you. "And why don't you feel like you can just tell me you got a weird fucking text message? You should be able to trust me. Unless there's something you're hiding, sweetheart?"

Your heart pounds. "I promise, I'm not hiding anything, I just... I don't want to keep involving you in my shit."

That was the wrong thing to say.

In an instant, his hand is on your face. His fingers dig into your jaw—not quite bruising, but just shy of it. A warning.

And then—he laughs. Low. Bitter. Cold.

"You still don't get it, do you?" he echoes, shaking his head. "Fucking hell."

His grip doesn’t loosen. If anything, it tightens.

"I killed them all. And I told you, I'd kill anyone else. I told you nothing you could do, nothing you could say could change the way I feel about you."

His thumb drags over your cheek, slow and deliberate, his tone twisting into something almost... desperate.

"You saw me caked in fucking blood after murdering them, and you still don't trust me. I'm trying to change for you, trying to give you all of myself."

His grip loosens just slightly—just enough for his thumb to trace over your bottom lip, his other hand falling to your waist.

"Why can't you just fucking open up?"

"It's not that I don't trust you. I do. I just..." You hesitate, swallowing hard, your throat tightening around the words. "I'll never not think of myself as damaged goods. And I know you fucking hate that. I know."

His expression darkens, but you push forward before he can stop you.

"I thought killing them would make it go away. But it’s been twelve hours and someone is already saying something else. Next thing, I’ll be plastered all over TMZ, then on CNN, forced to make a statement about my past—about something I was trying to bury. Something I've been trying to let go of for years now."

Your breath hitches, but you force yourself to keep going.

"You’re a man. You’re Homelander. You can do whatever the fuck you want. Walk through life untouched. But me?" Your voice cracks. "I’m a woman. A new member of The Seven. And now? Put rape victim on top of that��"

Before you can even finish, he moves.

In a blink, he grabs the coffee maker off the counter and hurls it across the room.

It shatters against the wall—not just breaking, but going through it, leaving a jagged hole in the drywall.

The room is dead silent, save for the sound of plastic and glass hitting the floor.

You go rigid, your heart hammering against your ribs.

Homelander's chest rises and falls, his fingers twitching at his sides, still tensed from the throw. His jaw clenches so tightly it looks like it might snap.

Then—he speaks.

"How many times do I have to tell you to stop talking about yourself that way?!"

It’s not a question.

It’s a demand.

And the way he says it—it’s not anger, not just frustration. It’s something worse. It’s hurt. A raw, aching wound buried under layers of rage.

You freeze.

He’s coming undone.

And it’s your fault.

He doesn’t even look at you as he straightens his suit. He smooths out the fabric, adjusting the cuffs of his gloves with slow, methodical movements. Composing himself. Or at least, trying to.

Rebuilding the mask. Something he's used to do doing.

Then, his voice—flat, cold, distant.

"I don't want to hurt you. I don't want to say something I'll regret."

You reach for him, fingers brushing against his arm, desperate to hold onto something—anything—but he brushes you off.

"Not now."

Those words cut sharper than any blade.

He exhales sharply, rolling his shoulders back. "Sorry about the mess. I'll have maintenance come by."

His tone is impassive, detached, like he’s discussing a minor inconvenience, not a coffee maker lodged into the fucking wall.

He’s already somewhere else—mentally, emotionally—leaving you behind before he even walks out the door.

"I have to go to the convention early. Some bullshit VIP booth."

You stare at him, trying to find him in all that cold steel, but he won’t meet your eyes.

"Please don't respond to them. Don’t say anything. And don’t hide anything else from me. It won't end well for either of us."

His head tilts slightly, blue eyes flicking to yours—a warning.

"I mean it."

And then—

In a blur of red and blue, he’s gone.

The force of his departure rattles the apartment, the loose pieces of broken plastic from the coffee maker skittering across the tile.

And for the first time since you met him—he leaves without you.

__

You're still shaken as you gather your things.

What is this feeling?

Guilt? No—disappointment.

You let him down.

The thought clings to you like a stain, sinking into your chest, suffocating. Your mommy issues claw at the back of your mind, flipping through memories like pages in a book—replaying, problem-solving, obsessing. Trying to find a way to make this right.

Trying to find a way to make yourself right.

Because that’s what it always comes back to, doesn’t it?

If you were better. Stronger. Whole.

Then this wouldn’t be happening.

You force yourself to push the morning aside, trying to believe that things will smooth over once you see him again. That this will pass.

It will, right?

It has to.

The last thing you want to do is go to this stupid fucking event—to pretend, to smile, to take photos with screaming kids and their exhausted parents, to slap on a fake fucking grin and act like everything is fine.

But this is what you signed up for.

To be a product. A face. A commodity.

With a sigh, you sling your bag over your shoulder, heading for the door.

Then—your phone rings.

Your heart stops.

For a split second, you hesitate to look.

Then, relief.

A Vought number.

Thank God.

For half a second, you thought it was them. The unknown caller.

Fuck. You need to shake this.

Can someone get you a Xanax?

You press accept.

"Hello?"

A bright, unfamiliar voice comes through the speaker.

"Hey! This is Dana! I’m the new PA. We’re here to pick you up downstairs!"

Ugh.

Too cheery. Too fresh.

You don’t even try to hide your exhaustion. "Right. Be right there."

Let’s just get this over with.

You grab your things and step out of your apartment, heading toward the waiting car.

Then—

A scream.

Sharp. Sudden.

It cuts through the city noise, coming from the alley beside Vought Tower.

Then—another shout. A struggle.

Your instincts kick in.

You round the corner, adrenaline surging, anger simmering beneath your skin—furious at yourself, at Homelander, at everything.

You almost welcome the chance to take it out on someone.

And then—you see them.

A woman, pinned against the wall.

A man gripping her wrists, his leering face close to hers, her body trembling.

Her eyes wide with fear.

"Hey!" you call, your voice sharp, commanding.

The man’s head snaps toward you.

But before you can react—

A sting in your neck.

A needle.

Your body locks up.

Your vision blurs.

Your knees buckle.

You try to speak—to scream—but the sound never comes.

And the last thing you see?

The woman stops pretending to be afraid.

She smirks.

She was never the victim.

You are.

Again.

Then—darkness.

__

Homelander stands stiffly in the VIP lounge, shoulders squared, expression unreadable.

Even though he left in a huff, even though he stormed out without you—

He’s still furious.

At you.

At himself.

He wants you to trust him. Wants you to just let go.

"Hi, sir—anything I can do for you?"

The Deep. Useless. Annoying. As always.

Homelander barely spares him a glance before snapping—

"Get the fuck away from me."

The Deep freezes. His lips part like he’s about to say something else, but he thinks better of it.

"Got it." He backs away.

Homelander exhales sharply. Checks the time.

Then checks it again.

And again.

And again.

You should be here by now.

Before he can look at his watch for the tenth time—

The doors burst open.

FBI agents flood the room.

For a moment, stunned silence.

Then, A-Train mutters, "What the fuck?"

It’s almost cute that the FBI thinks they have any authority over gods.

But Homelander plays the game. Always has.

"You can’t act above the people in power, even though you are, John." Dr. Vogelbaum’s voice lingers in his head.

One of the agents steps forward, rigid, formal.

"Boys… what’s this about?" Homelander’s voice is too calm.

"Sir, we’ve been instructed by the President to take you all to a secure location. Please follow us."

Homelander laughs under his breath. "That’s sweet. But we can handle ourselves."

The agent doesn’t flinch. "You might be able to, sir. But this threat has already taken down one of your own."

The words hit him.

Something inside him snaps to attention.

His eyes narrow.

"Who?"

The agent doesn’t answer. Just glances at the others.

Homelander’s patience frays.

"Fucking tell me—"

Sage nudges him, voice low. "Let’s just follow them."

And for some reason, he listens.

__

The door to the safe room latches shut behind them.

The space is sterile, windowless. Secure.

Homelander cracks his knuckles.

"Alright. Now tell me what the fuck is going on. And tell me now."

The lead agent steps forward, hands clasped, voice calm.

"Thank you for your patience, Homelander. Unfortunately, we have been made aware of an outside threat that has taken a member of—"

"WHICH MEMBER?"

But he already knows the answer.

His stomach twists.

His eyes scan the room.

Only one person is missing.

You.

The agent gives him a tight-lipped, awkward look—like he doesn’t want to say it outright.

Homelander doesn’t need to hear it.

He already knows.

"Yeah, I’m not going to sit here and fucking circle jerk with you idiots. I’m going to find my girlfriend."

He turns to leave.

"Sir, please—"

The agent reaches out.

Wrong move.

Homelander whirls around, fist connecting with the man’s chest.

The agent doesn’t even have time to scream before his heart is in Homelander’s hand.

The room erupts into chaos.

Agents scramble, shouting, reaching for weapons.

Homelander doesn’t give them the chance.

In a single, searing glare, his lasers cut through them all.

The stench of burnt flesh fills the room.

Blood coats his suit.

He turns to his teammates, expression blank, voice even.

"If you don’t help me find her, I’ll do the same to all of you. Try me."

The Seven stare.

Then—without hesitation—

They follow.

__

Your head pounds.

Your limbs feel heavy.

The air is cold. Damp. Rotten.

You’re sitting. Chained.

A soft creak from the corner.

A masked figure steps forward.

Their voice, smooth. Mocking.

"You could’ve replied to my text faster, at least."

They tilt their head.

"I told you we needed to talk."

⁺˚⋆。°✩₊✩°。⋆˚⁺ ˚ ༘ ⁺˚⋆。°✩₊✩°。⋆˚⁺ ˚ ༘ ⁺˚⋆。°✩₊✩°。⋆˚⁺ ˚ ༘ ⁺˚⋆。

tag list: @raginginkedslut @helreyy @lilyalone @naty-1001 @emily048

[mycological-mariner]

Iswtg if I hadn’t been completely physically disabled to the point of not being able to hold a cup, I would have been so fucking good at parkour I would have loved that shit