#WHERE ARE ALL OF MY CHARACTER TAGS??????????????

[strang3lov3]

Honey-Do

“You’re gonna work on these every day. And I’m gonna check to make sure you did ‘em all, and if you did, you get to put a sticker down. And if we fill this sheet all the way up by the end of the week, I’ll make ya cum,” Joel explains. “That’s how you can earn back your privileges, Pumpkin.”

Tags - one shot, smut, unprotected piv, creampie, orgasm denial, ddlg dynamics, fingering, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, sneaking around with bad influence uncle tommyyyyy, joel jerks off, sex before dinner, angst + tension, spankings, rewards and punishments, elements of abuse, hurt/lots of comfort, pinky promises, dark. this is a work of fiction, and all characters are adults.

A/N - have I ever not delivered. here’s your uncle tommy fill, as promised. thank you to two anons who know who they are for helping with the creation of this fic, and thank you to my dear L for editing with me! anyway, it's been a minute but i'm happy to see you all :) hope you enjoy. i wrote this through a splitting headache so i'm going to chill now.

Your bedroom door clicks as Joel unlocks it from the other side, and the hinges groan and creak as he pushes it open. He looks at your figure lying in your bed, warm sunlight painting over your skin. Joel knows you’re not sleeping. You’re just lying in the quiet room, soaking up the sun like a kitten. 

“Hi, kiddo,” Joel greets softly, smiling before taking long strides across the room to meet you. He’s stepping over your clothes and tripping on other odds and ends before he reaches you - you’ve been picking out your own clothes lately. Apparently you’ve been less than impressed with Joel’s sense of fashion. Ooohkay, he thought. You’re such a messy girl with the way you try on all of your clothes, then leave them all on the floor. Those, coupled with old, expired bottles of nail polish and lip gloss. Joel told you not to use those lip glosses, but they’re just pretty to look at sometimes. 

“Jesus, girl. Fuckin’ room’s a pigsty,” he says, and he sits on the end of your bed, springs creaking with the shift in weight. 

You ignore him. Joel leans over and kisses both of your cheeks and then your forehead, then your nose. “Don’t smile,” he teases, “Don’t you dare laugh.” And he repeats this, his facial hair tickling your skin, until you’re giggling and your eyes finally open. 

“Ohh, there she is. Mornin’, Pumpkin,” Joel says, chuckling at the way you squint through the bright sunlight. 

“Mmm…morning, D–” you’re interrupted by your own yawn, which makes Joel laugh. “Daddy.” 

Joel pushes some hair out of your eyes. “Lazy ass,” he mumbles. “Listen, kiddo. M’on patrol today, so you’re gonna be home all alone. Y’gonna be alright?” he asks, softly stroking the skin on your cheek. “Gonna be a good girl?” 

He wonders if he can trust you. If he can give you this inch, and you won’t take a mile. The doors and windows will stay locked, of course, but there’s other things he worries about. Joel knows you, you know. You’re never as sneaky as you think you are. 

“Mhm. I’m always good, Daddy.” 

Joel rolls his eyes. “Uh huh, fuckin’ smartass. You can make eggs an’ toast for breakfast, and there’s leftovers in the fridge for lunch. We’ll figure out supper later, hm? Maybe we’ll go to the cafeteria. See what they’re cookin’ up.” 

“Yeah, that sounds good,” you smile. 

“Good.” Joel pats his thighs and then stands up, knees popping loudly. “And I want you to clean all this shit up, alright? Didn’t raise ya to leave messes.” 

You sigh heavily. “I know. I’ll do it.” 

“Good girl.” Joel bends down and kisses your head one last time. “Eat all your lunch an’ have a good day. I love ya.”

You love days where you’re home alone. You used to hate it, and Joel wouldn’t let it happen a whole lot. You hated how lonely it felt, how quiet. You’d hear things go bump that weren’t there, and you’d feel just…nervous. Joel came home once and found you all scared and trembling, and he promised he’d be home with you as much as he could. 

He made good on his promise. And you liked being home with him until you didn’t, until you found it suffocating and boring. Scary. Joel’s house went from being a quiet safe haven away from the horrors of the world to a sort of horror in and of itself. A Sisyphean loop, where nothing ever changes. And it never will, no matter how much you tug on your windows that are bolted shut, or yank on your door that only Joel can unlock. You can never leave. 

You’d stare longingly out the window, hoping to go outside on your own. Just once, maybe. To go in the woods and wander, pick at strange flowers and plants and everything else. Just be alone. Joel grants you so much, and yet, you want so much more than that.

It makes you feel bad, if you’re being honest with yourself. You know what’s out there. What he saved you from. You know you’re safer with Joel, and you know everything he’s done to keep you safe and comfortable and happy. You’re in good hands with him, even if they’re hands that hurt you sometimes. Hit you. Spank you. Choke you. They’re still Joel’s hands, and they’re warm, right? And they love you. 

He said when the weather warms up some more he’ll take you to the lake. You really hope he does. 

You spend the day reading, drawing, watching birds and other critters that come by. Joel thinks it’s cute, the way you’ve named the chipmunks and squirrels that frequent his patio. How you recognize them like they’re your friends. 

Joel tries to leave his bad mood away from home. He knows he’s got a habit of carrying it with him, and regrettably, taking it out on you. You take your moods out on him too, though. Not that it matters. He curses himself for even acknowledging the fact. He’s older, he’s wiser, he’s more patient. You’re not. He’s the parent, you’re the child. But when he comes home, you can tell it was a bad day. You can hear it in his footsteps and in the way he breathes, and it makes you tense. “Y’ready for dinner?” he asks, voice tired. 

“Mhm.” 

“Didn’t hear ya, kiddo. Speak up.” 

“Mhm.” 

“No, no mumblin’. Use your words and tell me, yes or no,” Joel demands, feeling his blood pressure begin to spike. 

“Yes.” 

Oh, you fucking…you. You’re always going to match Joel’s temper. You stare at him and he glares back, balling his fists before turning on his heel to get changed. You both need something to eat, before this goes from zero to one hundred. 

But then Joel goes upstairs, and he walks past your bedroom and sees that nothing - nothing is picked up. He’s back downstairs before he even thinks it through. Before he showers and takes a moment to breathe, even. 

“What’d I fuckin’ tell you?” 

Your stomach drops at his tone. “What?”

“I asked ya to take care of your room, and I come home to see you’ve done fuck all.” 

“I guess I just forgot, Daddy. I’ll do it tomorrow.”

Joel scoffs, “Yeah, uh huh.” He pauses for a moment, then puts his hands on his hips. “We talked about this, Pumpkin.” 

“Talked about what?” you ask, and it makes Joel fucking irate that you won’t turn your head to look at him. 

“Look at me when you’re speakin’ t’me,” he barks, startling you. Looking at him from across the room, you can see he means business. Joel’s eyes are already dark to begin with, but they’ve gone black - so depthless and so endless that you can’t tell what’s behind them. 

“You’ve been slackin’,” Joel says in a low tone, breathing heavily as he takes heavy steps toward you. “S’gettin’ old, kid.” 

“I know, I just–”

“Jus’ what?”

You pick at your chipping, poorly-applied nail polish as you roll the answer around in your mind. “I don’t really want to do chores. I mean, I know my room is…but the other stuff, I–” 

“Tough. You live under my roof, y’live under my rules.”

“Then it’s your roof, your mess.” 

The words come out before you can even think about them. You press your lips together immediately, shrinking in your seat a little at the way Joel cocks his eyebrow and puts his hands on his hips. “Wanna try that again?” he asks, and you know what this is, what it is he’s doing: he’s giving you an out. And it’s awfully generous of him, considering. “Don’t make this a bad night,” he warns.

You pause this time, thinking about what you want to say next. I’m sorry, Daddy is that fucking close to rolling off of your lips when you notice that little wren sitting on the windowsill. She’s a frequent visitor, and Joel says she’s just like you. Fiery, assertive, sometimes. Vocal. A pistol. 

She looks at you for a minute, then flies off. It sends a pang of longing through your heart, and perhaps even jealousy that that beautiful little bird can spread her wings and fly away and you…can’t. Not with the locked doors and windows, not while eternally existing under Joel’s fucking microscope.

“I didn’t ask to live here, Joel,” you bite. 

“Oh, s’that’s how we’re doin’ this? This is how tonight’s gonna go?” 

“Yeah.” You get up from your place on the couch and shove into Joel’s shoulder, but he shoves you right back down. He glares at you, and you glare back as hard as you fucking can. Staring at him like you wish you could fucking…you don’t even know. You’re blinded by the same rage and upset that Joel is at this moment, but without the agency to do one fucking thing about it. Joel, on the other hand. 

He takes your jaw in his hand, squeezing your bones tight enough to bruise the soft flesh that covers them. When you jerk your head away, he squeezes tighter. “You don’t get to walk away from me,” he growls, leaning in close enough that you can feel his hot breath on your face. “I do a lot for ya. Done a lot for ya,” he says in a low tone.

“You never let me leave,” you argue. “You trap me.” 

That gets Joel, wounds him a little. His face changes when you say that, before twisting back into something darker. “That’s what you think, huh? That I trap ya?”

You swallow thickly, then part your lips to speak. Joel cuts you off with a wave of his hand. “I keep you safe,” Joel whispers. “Fed. Happy. An’ all I ask is that you follow a few simple rules. That’s all. You wanna go back out there on your own, with the fuckin’ raiders and clickers, I can make that happen. Watch.”

Joel’s jaw ticks as he glares at you, fuming at the indignant little look on your fucking face. He could hit you right now, right across your cheek. Or maybe he’ll bend you over his knee and beat you until your ass is fucking raw and bleeding. That’ll teach you, that’ll fuckin’ teach you…

The anger flows through his veins like a fucking poison, and only when one of Joel’s knuckles crack, startling him, does he let your face go. He didn’t realize he was holding you so hard.

“I don’t like you,” you whisper. 

Joel makes a face at the statement, then nods, because he’s heard it all before. It hurt the worst the first time you said it, but you came back to him crying, hours later when you’d had a nightmare and needed him. Not want - that wasn’t the word you picked. You said you needed him, Daddy, and you were so sorry. You didn’t mean it. You love him and you need him. 

He clicks his tongue against his teeth. “M’not too keen on you either, right now, Pumpkin.”    

The room is tense as you and Joel stare each other down, and neither of you budge until Joel tells you to go to your room and stay there. He tells you that you can forget going out to dinner, and you can stay in your bedroom until he feels like looking at your face again. You’re grounded, too - he doesn’t say from what. Now get out of his sight before he fucking hurts you.

You’re in your room forever, the hours alone spent alone passing like days. The sun went down forever ago, and you can’t stop yourself from crying. You held it together long enough downstairs while fighting with Joel but the moment you stepped foot into your room, you burst like a dam. 

And it sucks to cry alone, to not have Joel there to hold you and wipe your tears. But is that what you’d want? Is that what would make it all better? Maybe. Joel has a special way of being your heaven and hell, all in one man. He’s both your nightmare and your solace after a bad dream. What are you supposed to make of that? What are you supposed to do other than cry like this?

You don’t bother wiping your tears when there’s a double knock at the door. “S’me,” Joel says. “M’comin’ in.” 

You keep your back turned to him as he enters your bedroom with a plate and a glass of water, and he sets both down on your nightstand. “Went and grabbed some food. I gotcha…let’s see here. Chicken, mashed potatoes, corn.” 

“Not hungry.” 

“Not even for some pumpkin pie?” Joel asks, noticing the way your eyes widen at the mention. “Still your favorite, right?”

You pause. “No,” you answer, eventually.

“No?” Joel asks. “Hmm. Guess I’ll eat it myself. M’gonna get even fatter than I already am…this is a very unhealthy thing to do to your dear old man, y’know,” Joel says, cutting into the pie with the side of his fork, which scrapes against the ceramic plate. You flip over and sit up, and Joel feeds you the bite instead of eating it himself. “There she is,” he murmurs. 

That’s how you got the nickname. Joel asked your name many times back in that cold, shitty cabin. You wouldn’t tell him. He understood, of course, and he told you his name anyway. You were always such a stubborn girl. For the life of him, Joel could not figure out why you wouldn’t come back to Jackson with him, why the hell you were so apprehensive about trusting him. Most people jump at the opportunity to stay in the cozy, warm settlement but…not you. 

You were a tough nut to crack. It took a lot of time for you to trust Joel. He used to sit in that cabin with you while on his patrols - Tommy would show up sometimes, too. He’d just sit with you, talk a little, the way you’d do with a stray dog in a shelter. He’d bring you warm thermoses full of soup or tea and sandwiches for you to eat, and he was just patient.

And it was pumpkin pie that finally got you to come home with him. He brought you a slice one day, and you scarfed it down quickly and asked if he had more. “Nope,” he answered. “Gotta come back to Jackson f’ya want more. Got all the pumpkin pie you could eat.”

You mulled it over in your mind more than you ever had. And this was after weeks of Joel visiting you, bringing you food, sometimes dry wood to keep your fireplace warm. You didn’t trust him yet, but you didn’t…not trust him. And you really wanted that fucking pie. 

It was your choice to live with Joel, too. When he brought you back, they offered to put you in a house with other girls around your age. Nope. You wanted to be with Joel. Somewhere deep down, you know you picked him to be yours before he picked you to be his. Doesn’t that make you a little responsible for where you are now? 

“Yeah, alright, Pumpkin. I guess I could make some room for ya,” he winked.

“Breakin’ rules here,” Joel murmurs. “It goes dinner first, then dessert. Right?”

You ignore him as you swallow your bite. He’s only teasing. And besides, this is not a battle he wants to fight. At least you’re eating, anyway. Joel puts his hand on your knee and speaks softly, “I shouldn’t have gotten on your ass the way I did.” 

“No. You shouldn’t have,” you snap, and Joel feeds you another bite of pie. You take the fork and eat the rest of the slice quickly, then lay back down and flip over.    

His poor, sweet, tender-hearted girl. Don’t you know that attitude of yours is only gonna get you in trouble? Joel thinks it's just where you’re at in life - he thought he knew the world like the back of his hand when he was your age, too. 

Joel turns your face and wipes your tear-stained cheeks, all swollen and raw. Eyes rimmed red as more tears well up, then spill down, back into your hairline. “Oh, sweetheart. What am I gonna do with ya?” he sighs, gently thumbing away those tears again. He wipes a few crumbs of pie crust from your lips, too.

You sniffle and shrug, avoiding his gaze. A hiccuping sob escapes your lips. “S'okay. Drink some water,” Joel tells you, pulling you upright. He gives you the glass, has you take a few sips, and he notices the way you look at his hand between your thighs. He notices your muscles twitching, eyes widening…knows exactly what you want as he rubs his thumb over the skin. Joel knows you want him to fuck you, to make you feel good, because you always feel better after he gets you off. Presses your little reset button. He’d reckon those pretty pink panties of yours are a little soaked, too. Poor thing. And isn’t this part of tonight’s problem? 

You can’t get anything past Joel. You’ll never be able to. 

“Daddy–”

“Not tonight, kiddo. Y’lost them privileges.” 

“Please,” you beg. Joel takes your glass of water and sets it down on the nightstand. 

“No,” Joel bites, pulling his hand away. He pulls your blankets over your shoulders, then turns off your lamp. “Daddy’s gonna have to think of a way for you to earn ‘em back.” He kisses you on the forehead, saddened by the way you turn away from him. “I love ya with my whole heart, Pumpkin, but you are gonna learn that there are consequences for your actions. Now get some sleep.”

Joel takes the glasses and checks to make sure the baby monitor is on, then leaves you. A night of sleep will be good for you both. 

But it is a hard night, isn’t it? You spend the night tossing and turning - Joel can hear it on the tinny, crackling speakers of the receiver. He doesn’t rest any easier either, so he gets in the shower late at night. Maybe the distant noise of the running water will soothe you to sleep. 

He washes his hair and his body, then grips his cock tightly in his fist. He strokes himself slowly, top to bottom and over and over again, building to a quicker pace in short time. “Ohh, Pumpkin,” he whispers, cumming over his knuckles. Joel rinses himself off and dries himself, then checks on you in your bedroom - you’re out like a light. Good. Fuck, he hates fighting with you. 

In the morning, you tiptoe down the stairs, stopping first behind the wall to steal a peek at Joel before he sees you. He’s got breakfast made already - French toast, eggs, hash browns. You take your place at the table, yawning as you twirl a fork between your fingers. “Mornin’, sweetheart,” Joel murmurs, pressing a kiss against the crown of your head. He serves you a large helping of breakfast, your Felix the cat cup is already filled with juice. “Sleep okay?” he asks, sitting next to you and serving himself. 

You shrug. 

“Yeah, me too,” Joel agrees. You and he eat in silence for a couple of minutes, the only sounds being the chirping birds and the cutlery scraping against the plates. Joel finishes his food before you do, and when he does, he gets up from the table. You watch him set his dish by the sink, then grab a couple of papers or something from the counter and bring them back to the table. “Been thinkin’ about how you can earn back your privileges,” Joel begins. Your attention is immediately caught by a few shiny, sparkly papers, decorated in little stars. “Stickers,” Joel explains, peeling one off and sticking it on your nose. “See?”

“Mhm.” You grab the packs of stickers, but Joel tugs them back. 

“Ah, ah, ah. Can’t have those yet. You gotta earn ‘em.” Joel shows you a larger paper next, something he made and drew up himself. ‘Pumpkin’s Honey-Do List’.

“What’s honey-do?”

“S’a chore chart,” Joel explains. “Honey, do this for me. Honey, do that. Get it?” You nod. “We’re gonna use this chart to keep track of your chores, okay?” 

Before you answer, you take some time to look over the chores Joel wants you to do. Sunday through Saturday Joel wants you to tidy your room every day. “Every day?” you whine, thinking of the enormous mess sitting in there right now. It’s gonna take for fucking ever to deal with all of that.

“Every day,” Joel answers. “F’ya stay on top of it, it’s not much of an issue. Been tryin’ to tell ya that, Pumpkin.” 

The rest of the daily chores listed are no surprise. Do the dishes, set the table, make the bed, sweep. But there’s some new ones at the bottom of the chart - dust all the shelves and baseboards, wash the windows, mop. Joel explains that they only have to be done once at some point this week. 

“You’re gonna work on these every day,” Joel says. “And I’m gonna check to make sure you did ‘em all, and if you did, you get to put a sticker down. And if we fill this sheet up by the end of the week, I’ll make ya feel good again. That’s how you can earn back your privileges.”

You think about it, looking over the chore chart. Joel’s all capital letter handwriting, and the silly pumpkins he drew at the top of the chart. “Hey, you,” Joel taps your arm. “We square?”

You still don’t know. You don’t know why you’re hesitant. You’re just…that’s just who you are. Stubborn, indignant. A rebel with a heart of gold. 

“Psst. Take the fuckin’ deal, kiddo.” 

“Okay, Daddy.” 

Joel holds out his fist, pinky finger extended. You wrap your pinky around his, and then he brings both his and your hands to his lips and kisses your knuckle.  

You get started after breakfast, cleaning up your room while Joel takes care of some other stuff around the house. It’s not so bad when you have a goal in mind and a better attitude about the entire thing. It goes by quickly, too, and you feel better when your room is put back together. You don’t know why you let it get so bad. Maybe it’s reflective of your mood. 

Dishes come next, and it’s made easier because Joel cleans as he cooks. It’s just a matter of washing and drying a few plates and forks and glasses, then putting them back into the cabinets. Sweeping comes after that, and then you’re done until dinner tonight when Joel needs the table set. 

It is nice to walk through the house with him as he inspects your work. The concentrated frown on his face as he looks in your closet at all your clothes all hung up and folded neat, and the way it splits into a smile of approval. “Y’did good, kiddo,” he murmurs as he kisses your head. It takes you a moment to decide how exactly you want to place the stickers down, but you like doing it. It’s going to look so pretty when it’s filled in. 

Tomorrow is the same, and the next day, and the next day. Joel does his walk throughs every evening, and then you do your stickers at the table. “Mm, doin’ some neat patterns there, I see,” Joel says gently. 

“Mhm.”

“Very pretty, sweetheart. I’m so proud’a ya,” he smiles. “Couple more days, right? Finish strong.” 

When you wake up on Friday, you feel excited. There’s really not much in your room to clean, not much to sweep around the house, not much of anything to do, really. 

…Until Joel reminds you about the specials. “Ahem,” Joel says, pointing to the chores at the bottom of the chart. “These need’a get done, too.” 

“Oh, fuck.” You cover your mouth before Joel has a chance to scold you. “Sorry.” 

He makes a face at you, but he lets it go. If letting a dirty word slip is the worst thing you’ve done all week, then so be it. You probably picked it up from him, after all. 

Joel quickly makes you a sandwich at the counter, then slices it in half and puts it in the fridge. That’ll be your lunch later. “Uncle Tommy’s coming by today,” Joel says. “But don’t think you can sweet talk him into helpin’ you with those chores, Pumpkin. This is still a punishment.” 

“Mhm. I know, Daddy.” 

“Good girl.” Joel kisses you quickly on the cheek, then he’s out the door. “I love ya. Be home later.” 

When Joel leaves, you go upstairs and shower, then pick out something to wear - just a pair of shorts and a tee, neither of which you particularly like, but that’s okay. You don’t want to dirty your favorite clothes. After checking your list, you get started with dusting first. You’ll work top to bottom, and then do the windows at the very end, per Joel’s suggestion. 

Dusting is tedious. It’s tedious to take every little knickknack and tchotchke off the shelves, but you do like the way the wood sparkles after you wipe it clean. And it feels better, too. There’s a noticeable difference when you clean the place, like you’re washing away everything bad that’s built up over time and starting anew. 

You pause cleaning briefly to eat the sandwich Joel made you, and then you’re back to cleaning, on your hands and knees as you wipe the baseboards. You still have some tall cabinets and shelves to dust, but you’ll figure that out later. 

The back door opening startles you, and in comes Tommy, handsome as ever and smiling so big when he sees you. “Hiya, sweetheart.” 

“Hi, Uncle Tommy,” you greet. You feel Tommy’s eyes on you as you dust, tracing over every inch of your figure. It’s awkward as you clean and Tommy stands there. You’re not exactly sure what he was sent here to do. Maybe he’s your babysitter or something. 

He peruses the house, and you wonder what he’s thinking. You have a more difficult time reading him than you do Joel, though that doesn’t mean Joel is always easy to read, either. Tommy notices your chore chart and smirks at it. Good fucking god. 

Baseboards are done now, so it’s time to finish those cabinets. You drag a chair over to the kitchen counters, but even with the added height, you can’t reach the tops. “Uncle Tommy?” you ask. 

“Yeah, honey.” 

“Do you know if Joel has a step stool or something around here?” 

Tommy holds up a finger before he’s off to check for you. There’s nothing in the closet, nothing in the garage, either. “Don’t think so, sweetheart.” 

“Hmm…” 

“Whatcha thinkin’?”

Joel would throttle you if he knew what you were about to do, but he’s the one who didn’t account for your inability to reach the tops of the cabinets he wants cleaned. You hoist yourself up onto the counter top with a rag in hand, wobbling as you stand up tall. 

“Woah, woah, woah. Let me use the chair an’ I’ll get ‘em myself, darlin’,” Tommy says as he stands behind you, his fingers tapping against your legs as he gets ready to catch you. He gets a nice look up your shorts from this angle, too, llikes the lace on your panties. “Gonna crack your goddamn skull open, girl.” 

“You’re not supposed to help me,” you tell him, frowning at how disgusting the tops of these cabinets are. “Ew.” 

“Says who?”

“Daddy,” you answer. 

“Ohhh. Daddy says so, huh?”

You sigh, “Yep.”

Tommy rolls his eyes. “Get down, honey. I don’t like ya up there like that.”

You know better than to argue with Uncle Tommy. He’s fun, sure. But he does have the authority to do whatever Joel does to you, too. Joel’s made it clear that when Tommy’s around, you are to listen and obey him the same as you listen to Joel himself. You turn around and bend down slowly, feeling nervous and unstable on your feet. “C’mere, sweet pea. I gotcha.” Tommy grabs your waist and steadies you, grunting as he helps you down. 

“Can’t believe your old man’s gotcha doin’ all these chores without any music,” Tommy says. You shrug, and Tommy’s off toward the living room where Joel’s got a turntable and some vinyls. He puts them on every once in a while, but you’re not always into the music he picks. 

Tommy puts on Jim Croce and does a little dance that makes you giggle. He wiggles his hips and snaps his fingers, biting down on his bottom lip. “Alright,” Tommy claps his hands together. “Let’s get to work.” 

He takes the rag from your hand and stands on the chair, dusting the tops of the cabinets himself. “I appreciate this, Uncle Tommy, but you really shouldn’t…if Joel finds out–”

“You gonna tell on me, sweetheart?”

“N-no…” you mumble, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. 

“Then your daddy won’t find out,” Tommy replies. 

He finishes the cabinets quickly, then gets off of his chair with a grunt. “Okay, darlin’. What else ya gotta do?”

“Uhmmm…” you trail off, mentally tallying the chores you’ve already done. With Tommy’s help, you’re just about finished. “Windows are last,” you tell him. 

Tommy nods. He grabs a spray bottle from a closet as well as two squeegees, then hands you one. “You wanna do the outsides or the insides, sweetheart?” 

“Insides,” you answer. “I’m not supposed to go outside without Joel.” 

Tommy makes a real show of looking around, raising his eyebrows and squinting dramatically. “Funny, darlin’, I don’t see Joel anywhere,” he says, then pauses. “Why don’tcha wash the outsides and get some fresh air, honey?”

“Okay,” you smile. Tommy gives you the spray, then opens the door and tells you to meet him at the kitchen window. You feel exhilarated as you leave and round the house, loving the sun on your skin and the breeze in your hair. When you meet him on the other side of the window, he motions for you to spray yours down, which you do. Then Tommy opens the window and reaches for the spray, then shuts the window. You flinch when he squirts it at you, and laugh when it hits the glass and not yourself. Tommy winks, then squeegees his side of the window as you do the same. 

He nods his head to motion to you to go to the next window, where you and he repeat the routine. You do the same with the next one and the one after that, and when you’re finished, you come back inside and rest on the couch. 

“Think that means we’re ‘bout done, huh?”

“Yep,” you answer, then pause. “You won’t tell Joel, right?”

Tommy sits next to you and zips his lips. “M’not a narc, honey. So we get to put stickers on your chart now, don’t we?”

You shake your head. “Nope. Joel has to do a walk through,” you explain. 

“Ahhhh,” Tommy nods, understanding. “So whatcha gettin’ for fillin’ in all the stickers?”

Your cheeks heat up at the question and you shy away from Tommy, which makes him laugh. You have no poker face at all. 

“Uh huh,” Tommy winks. “Oh, I get it.”

You squirm in place a little, wondering if you should talk more about it. You kind of want to, honestly. Joel tells you that you can tell him anything, but you know you can’t. Not just anything. “It’s been a week,” you admit finally to Tommy, and immediately you feel relieved to have someone else to talk to about this. About Joel. “Well, almost. Tomorrow makes a week.” 

Tommy scoffs. “Well shit, kiddo. Your old man’s a fuckin’ hard ass.” You shrug silently, and Tommy raises an eyebrow at you. “You can agree, y’know. Ain’t gonna hurt. An’ I won’t tell him if ya do, either.” 

“A little,” you admit, quietly. But Tommy hears, and he smiles. 

“Can’t go a day without it, myself,” Tommy tells you, stretching out on the couch a little. He rests his hand on your thigh, drawing little patterns down to your knee and back up again, patterns that make your skin tingle and make you feel funny inside. Nervous, excited…in almost the same way Joel makes you feel nervous and excited. But there’s an added layer here. You know you shouldn’t be letting Tommy do this to you.

“I think you should reward yourself, ‘f I’m bein’ honest. You did all your chores, after all. Right?” 

“...yeah.” Uncle Tommy has a funny way of making the guilt in your belly disappear, if not for just a moment. It’s in the way he speaks and the words he chooses, and it’s in his sparkling brown eyes and his charming smile.  

“Why don’tcha go to your room and take care of yourself, then? Hm?”

You shake your head. “Joel - Daddy says I’m not allowed to,” you reply. 

“Ohh. Not allowed to do it by yourself.” Tommy clicks his tongue and turns his head toward you. “S’too goddamn bad. Joel’s gotcha on a short fuckin’ leash, don’t he?”

He slides his hand up your thigh, inching his pinky finger past your shorts. Tommy likes the way your breath hitches in your throat when he traces the thin, damp fabric of your panties with just his fingertip. Sensitive fuckin’ girl.

“And you’re really hurtin’ for it too, I can tell. A fuckin’ week, good lord,” Tommy whispers, then pauses before speaking again. “Well, I’d reckon you’re not doin’ nothin’ wrong by lettin’ Uncle Tommy make ya cum, huh?” 

“I-” you stutter, “I really - I don’t know, Uncle Tommy.”

Tommy grins, his eyes so warm and so black, so endless. “Oh, sweetheart. Ain’t nothin’ wrong with it in my book.” He wriggles his fingers up your shorts a little more, and slips them past your panties. That little gasp when he touches your lip, lightly teasing you there. Good lord. 

“Then s’gonna be our little secret,” Tommy whispers. “Somethin’ special, jus’ for me and my sweet girl,” he says. “How ‘bout that, darlin’?”

You nod before the little voice in your head telling you not to do this becomes too loud. You can trust Tommy, right? He wouldn’t do anything to get you into trouble with Joel. And like he always says, what Joel doesn’t know won’t kill him. 

You can’t ever pull one over on Joel, but you can try. And if Tommy’s right, and he probably is - you’ll succeed.  

“Good girl,” says Tommy, pulling your body into his lap. He unbuttons your shorts and pushes them down your legs, then cups your pussy with his large hand. You sigh at the relief that comes with the pressure, resting against Tommy’s chest. “C’mere, honey. I gotcha.” 

You spread your legs for him and he rubs you through your panties, just lazily at first, feeling you dampen the fabric. He traces your clit next, “Oh, fuck,” you moan, leaning into him. “More,” you gasp. 

Tommy slides his hand under your panties, touching your bare heat. You’re so fucking warm and so fucking wet, with that pool of arousal he’s created. And it didn’t take much, did it? No, no. Of course not, not when you’ve been starving for it for so long. Longer than a week, too. Tommy knows the way you look at him and what goes on in that head of yours. And if he were a betting man, he’d bet that when you do summon the courage to get yourself off on your own fingers, despite Joel’s rule, that you’re thinking of him. Maybe not every time, but enough.  

“Uncle Tommy,” you moan, eyes squeezing shut as you arch into his touch. You rock your hips as he circles your clit, reaching for his thick bicep. You hold him tightly, whimpering, “Oh my god.”

“Y’wanna hold onto me?” Tommy chuckles quietly, rubbing you slowly. “You can hold onto me, sweet pea. M’not goin’ nowhere. Jus’ you and me right now, sweet girl.” 

He’s so warm, and he smells so fucking good. It’s nice to be in a pair of arms that are safe and dangerous, but different from Joel’s safe and dangerous. You watch yourself in the freshly cleaned windows, all wrecked as Tommy pleasures you. 

He’s sliding his fingers down your seam next, then pushing two into your entrance. And it’s when he curls them rhythmically, looking for that special, sweet little place deep inside you, that you really start to moan. “Relax,” Tommy whispers, squeezing you tightly. “Hold still, honey. Be good.” 

Tommy shifts the positions a bit so he can rub your clit with his other hand while fucking you on his fingers. It’s not long before release is right around the corner, with all of that hot, sparkling pleasure blooming deep in your gut. Your thighs begin to shake and twitch, “You cum nice for me now,” he whispers. “Show Uncle Tommy how hard you can cum.” 

And that’s all it takes for you to fall apart, crying out loudly as he fucks you through your orgasm. Tommy doesn’t let up until you’re a shuddering, gasping mess, until he’s made certain that your needs have been met. A goddamn week, he thinks. That’s fucking ridiculous.

“You cum so pretty, sweetheart,” Tommy whispers, pulling his fingers away from your cunt. They’re all shiny and drenched in your arousal, and he brings them to his lips and sucks them clean. He pats you twice and you get up and off of him, all shy and bashful as he stands up and stretches, his rock-hard erection bulging through his denim. “Fuck, look whatcha do t’me,” he groans, pressing his palm against it. “I’m off, kiddo. Gonna let me leave without a hug and a kiss?” he asks. 

You wrap your arms around his thick middle quickly, perhaps needing the hug more than Tommy even does. You kiss his cheek, and Tommy squeezes your ass. “Alright. Keep outta trouble, honey. I’ll see ya when I see ya.”

A few hours later, Joel’s barely got a foot in the door before you’re taking him by the hand and leading him through the house, showing him how well you cleaned everything. “Jesus, girl. Can’t a man eat dinner first?” 

“No,” you answer. “Look at the windows.”

Joel laughs, “I know, I see ‘em, Pumpkin. They’re sparklin’.” 

“And the baseboards–”

“Are nice and dusted, I see it all, sweetheart. You did good. Wanna go get your stickers?” 

You show Joel that you’ve already got your stickers and your chart in hand. “Go ‘head and put ‘em on then, honey. Y’did good,” Joel says, then pauses as you put the rest of the stickers down. The only one that’s missing is dishes and table setting for today, but that’s because it hasn’t been done yet. Joel tells you he trusts you, and you can put the stickers down anyway. “And you did do it all by yourself, right, Pumpkin?” 

“Mhm,” you lie. 

“An’ if I ask Uncle Tommy if he helped, what’s he gonna tell me?”

“No,” you lie again. 

“Good answer,” Joel replies, then pauses. “Did you play with yourself this week?” he asks.

“No.” 

“Promise?” Joel asks. “Did anyone else play with ya?”

“Nope,” you tell him. Joel smiles, then kisses you on the head and sits down on the couch as you admire your chart. You join him on the couch, sliding onto his lap instead of taking your usual place right next to him.

“Hey, you,” Joel smiles. “What’re you makin’ me for dinner, hm?”

You shrug. “I’m not even hungry,” you tell Joel, and he makes a face. 

“Sure you’re not.” 

You think you know what that means, what he’s doing. He’s deliberately quiet, waiting for you to ask for what you want. But you say nothing as you sit on his lap, eyes wide as you wait and wait and wait for what you’ve earned, squirming on his lap a little. “Whatcha so squirrely for?” he asks finally. 

“You know, Daddy.” 

“Mmm. Don’t think I do,” Joel drawls. “M’not a mind reader, Pumpkin.” 

But you’re too shy to say it out loud. So you take Joel’s hand and stand up, yanking him with you. He groans as he stands up, knees cracking. You hold his hand as you lead him toward the stairwell, “Where ya takin’ me?” he asks. 

“Mmmuhno,” you mumble, walking up the stairs with Joel trailing behind. 

“You dunno, huh?” he teases, amused as you take him towards his room. “Mmm, Daddy’s room. Okay,” he sighs dramatically. “Guess it’s bedtime, since Pumpkin says so. And I was gonna let ya stay up an’ everything, but alright.” 

You’re such a quiet, shy girl as you sit on the end of Joel’s bed, swinging your feet as he undresses himself. You pull at a string on your shorts, waiting for Joel to get the hint. You’re sure he does, but he’s just dragging this out, the same way you are, really. 

Joel, standing naked except for his boxers, turns to you. “Y’look like you’ve got somethin’ on your mind, sweetheart.” 

“Mm-mm,” you lie, unable to hide the smile that makes your lips curl up. 

“Oh, I think ya do. Wanna tell me what it is?” Joel asks. 

Finally, you relent. “Did I earn back my privileges?” you ask, biting down on your smile. 

Joel chuckles. “Was wonderin’ when you’d ask,” he says, leaning in close. He puts both of his hands on your knees, squeezing you there. “Yes. You earned ‘em back, Pumpkin.” 

You hum in delight and smile so big, then whisper something in Joel’s ear. “Well lie on down, then,” Joel murmurs. “You know what to do.” 

It takes no time at all for you to take off your clothes and lie on Joel’s bed completely naked, legs folded in half and swaying side to side as you wait for that inevitable dip in the mattress that comes from Joel settling between your thighs. It arrives all in good time, and Joel spreads you wide so he can devour you alive. 

He pushes your knees toward your chest and wears a crooked smirk at how anxious you look, ready for him to start. You’re wiggling your fingers, fidgeting with his comforter. Joel teases you with a couple of kisses pressed against your knees and your inner thighs. “Daddy,” you whine, pushing your hips toward his face. 

“Oh, I know, I know,” Joel murmurs, quieting your whines with a kiss to your pussy. “Iiii know, sweet baby girl.” He licks you from bottom to top with his tongue flattened, dragging it slowly through your slick folds. And Christ, how swollen you are - poor thing. But you did it to yourself, didn’t you?

“I am so–” Joel interrupts himself to suck on your clit a little, “So proud of you, Pumpkin,” he says, “My girl. You did so good for me, baby.” 

His beard tickles your inner thighs as he kisses you all over, then goes back to your clit. He circles it a few times with his tongue, then licks lower, burying his tongue in your soft, dripping entrance. You reach for his beautiful aquiline nose as he fucks you on his tongue, drawing up that gorgeous slope and past his forehead, tangling your fingers in his curly, graying hair. 

“Daddy,” you moan, whimpering for Joel as he drags his tongue back up and down your folds. He builds a rhythmic pace then, circling your clit repeatedly, all while allowing you to rock and grind against his face. He guides you orgasm quickly, savoring the way you gush into his mouth, your clit throbbing beneath his tongue. 

You’re fucking soaked, a mess of both Joel and yourself. Joel shoves his boxers down his thighs, erection springing against his soft tummy, and swipes his fingers through your folds. He collects your arousal on his hand, then uses it to coat his hard length. “Ready?” he asks, hovering over you. 

“Mhm.”

“Y’wanna help Daddy put it in?” 

You nod quickly. Joel knows you like to have some semblance of control over the pace at which he enters you, so he likes to grant you that. Not always, though. Sometimes he’ll split you in half just to remind you of who’s in charge here, usually when you get a little mouthy or something like that. 

You take Joel’s cock in your hand, tracing the bulbous head and the veins that climb up the shaft. You tilt your hips and drag him through your folds, sighing softly at the way you tease yourself. 

“You’re killin’ me here, kid,” Joel grunts, taking your wrist in his hand to stop you. 

“Sorry.”

“S’all good, baby.” 

You notch his tip at your entrance. “Your turn, Daddy,” you tell Joel softly. 

And in he goes. He slides into you slowly, filling you with the entirety of his length. “Ohh, big stretch. Attagirl,” he praises, grunting as he bottoms out. 

It always takes you a minute to get used to him. You do your little routine, make your little faces as you squirm and get used to his cock stretching you out, and when you’re ready, Joel begins to move. “Watch,” he says. “Look, look. Wanna show you something,” Joel tells you softly. You lift your head as he pulls out, his thick length all coated in your arousal. “Ain’t that somethin’?”

“Yeah,” you agree, letting your head fall back again. Joel braces himself on his forearm as he thrusts back into you, building to a slow pace. He’s in no rush, really, not when he’s sliding his big hand up your waist and over your ribcage and squeezes you there. He could crush you, you know. His delicate girl. He could do it. 

Joel bends down and skims his mouth and the tip of his nose over your breasts, taking time to wrap his lips around both of your nipples. He loves you so much, the elegant, gentle shapes of your body. All of those curves, all for him. 

The special way he fucks you - nothing comes close to this. No matter what, good day or bad, this will always be yours and Joel’s to savor. 

His cock is dragging against your g-spot, his pubic hair grinding against your clit. It’s all becoming too much, too sensitive for you to even cum. But Joel tells you to anyway. “Can’t, Daddy,” you whimper.

“Sure ya can,” Joel says. “S’been a week, honey. I know you’re needin’ it.” 

But are you, though? Not really, when Tommy took your punishment and reward into his own hands and made good and sure that you were well satiated before he left. And with the orgasm Joel pulled from you using his tongue, well. 

“One more, nice and big,” Joel encourages. “Show your daddy how hard you can cum on his cock, huh?”

Funny. Didn’t Tommy say the same thing?

Joel rubs your clit in practiced circles, coaxing along your release as he thrusts into you harder, faster, and deeper. And then it’s happening, and Joel’s name is spilling from your lips in breathy moans as you cum so hard on his cock, feeling indescribably full as your pussy pulses around him. It’s such a weighted, overwhelming feeling, and it washes over you in wave after wave. “Oh, baby girl.” Joel’s right behind you, breathing your name as he milks himself with your cunt, spurting rope after rope of his cum. “Take it nice an’ deep f’me,” he says, and like the most perfect girl you are, you take it all. 

Joel pulls out of you, not worried about the cum that spills on his comforter. It’s seen better days anyway, he thinks. 

After you both come down, Joel breaks the silence. “Think we should redo our date?” he asks, still breathing heavily. 

“Yes,” you answer. 

“I think so too,” he says. “Go pick somethin’ pretty to wear, and meet me in the shower to get cleaned up. Maybe we’ll see Uncle Tommy there or somethin’ too, huh?”

-

more dark daddy!joel here

anyway, i love ya. thank you for reading ♡ please dirty talk me in my inbox and reblog, because your words go a very long way in keeping me motivated to write. wouldn't be doin' this without ya.

aaaand the cat tax. remember that when it takes me a while to publish a fic, THIS IS WHO IS MAKING IT DIFFICULT TO DO SO!! okay!! do you see this! he's sitting on my arm like a fuck. fricken gizmo.

[aventurineswife]

Meow :D

what if the reader found a cat that acts like their lover? Like they have the same kind of attitude! Reader takes the cat home to take care of it with their lover! Imagine you just see you’re lover and cat staring each other down for you’re attention lol

you can do this with any honkai star rail (I’m bad with names) characters! (I prefer male but you can add female if you want) and you can do as many as you want! I just like telling my ideas :)

Two of a Kind

Tags: Jing Yuan x Reader, Blade x Reader, Sunday x Reader, Romance, Humor, Fluff, Jealousy, Rivalry, Comfort, Lighthearted, Domestic.

Warnings: Mild Jealousy (between the characters and the cat), Slightly suggestive interactions (implied, but nothing explicit), Fluff overload, OOC 😔💔.

The moment you found the small, snow-white cat in the alleyway near the Cloud Knights’ barracks, you knew something was strange. It lounged on a pile of silk scraps like a dignified ruler, eyes half-lidded in serene boredom. When you crouched down to offer a hand, it yawned leisurely before rubbing its head against your palm.

"Lazy little thing, aren’t you?" You chuckled, scooping it up. It was oddly… familiar. The way it melted into your touch, stretching lazily, as if it had all the time in the world.

Bringing it home was inevitable.

Jing Yuan was reclining in his study when you arrived, eyes flickering open as you placed the cat in your lap. He raised a brow, immediately sitting up.

“…You brought home another one?” His voice held a mix of amusement and suspicion.

"This one’s different," you grinned. "Look at it."

The cat blinked at Jing Yuan, slow and deliberate.

Jing Yuan blinked back.

Then, as if recognizing a rival, the cat turned its head with a haughty sigh and curled up in your lap, looking every bit like a miniature version of your lover when he feigned sleep to avoid meetings.

Your laughter made Jing Yuan frown. "Don’t tell me… it acts like me?"

"It really does! Look at the way it lounges!"

Jing Yuan rubbed his temple. "I’m being replaced by a cat."

For the next few days, the battle for your attention escalated. Whenever you pet the cat, Jing Yuan would pull you onto the couch beside him, draping an arm over your shoulder. If you scratched behind the cat’s ears, Jing Yuan would hum pointedly until you did the same for him. You even caught them staring each other down one evening—one with feline eyes, the other with his usual patient amusement, both vying for your affection.

You sighed, rubbing your forehead. "You do realize you’re jealous of a cat, right?"

Jing Yuan huffed, crossing his arms. "I’m not jealous. I’m simply… asserting my rightful place."

The cat, as if mocking him, promptly stretched across your lap.

Jing Yuan sighed in defeat, then reached over, stroking the cat’s head with surprising gentleness. "Hmph. I suppose we can share."

And so, the rivalry ended in an unspoken truce—one where you were adored by both the lazy general and his equally lazy feline counterpart.

You weren’t sure what it was about the midnight-furred cat that made you stop in the middle of the street. Maybe it was the sharp red eyes, eerily intense for a feline. Or maybe it was the way it sat in the shadows, unmoving, its aura both captivating and unsettling.

Regardless, you brought it home.

Blade was polishing his sword when you arrived, and his first reaction upon seeing the cat was a deadpan stare.

“…You’re joking."

The cat, sitting by your feet, glared at him with the same unnerving stillness.

You tilted your head. "What?"

Blade sighed, setting his sword aside. "It looks like me."

You blinked. Then you looked at the cat again—black fur, red eyes, an almost unnatural stillness to the way it held itself. Then, you burst out laughing.

"Oh no," you wheezed. "You’re right."

Blade scowled, rubbing his temple as the cat leapt onto your lap, curling into a tight ball like it had no interest in anything else.

"You brought home a brooding, quiet stray," Blade muttered, arms crossed. "Sound familiar?"

You grinned. "I have a type."

For days, the cat shadowed you, always quiet, always intense. Blade would sit in the corner, watching as you absentmindedly pet the feline while reading. At some point, you noticed the two of them mirroring each other—both staring at you, both exuding the same quiet, brooding energy.

It was unnerving.

"Are you two competing or something?" you finally asked.

Blade scoffed. "Tch. I don’t need to compete with a cat."

The cat, in perfect synchronization, flicked its tail as if scoffing right back.

You buried your face in your hands. "I can’t believe this."

Still, one night, you woke up to find Blade sitting on the floor beside the couch, absently petting the cat with an almost thoughtful expression.

"...You like it," you whispered.

Blade's hand paused, his expression unreadable. "It’s quiet. Doesn’t ask for anything."

You smiled. "Like you?"

Blade clicked his tongue, but he didn’t deny it.

And so, the brooding warrior and his feline doppelgänger coexisted in an eerie, wordless understanding—both bound to you, both unwilling to admit that, maybe, they had found comfort in something they never expected.

The cat you found had fur as soft as clouds and an uncanny, almost celestial presence. With golden eyes, and an air of quiet authority, it reminded you of someone.

Taking it home, however, proved to be the real challenge.

Sunday was seated in his grand study, calmly flipping through a book when you entered with the cat in your arms. The moment his eyes met the feline’s, an odd silence settled over the room.

The cat blinked.

Sunday blinked.

You swore you could feel the tension.

Finally, Sunday exhaled, closing his book. "...My dear, why does this creature look like it stepped out of my reflection?"

You grinned. "I was thinking the same thing."

Sunday reached out, gently brushing his fingers over the cat’s fur. The cat, rather than lean into the touch, simply tilted its head with a regal, knowing gaze.

Then, as if dismissing him, it turned its attention back to you, purring contentedly as it nestled in your arms.

Sunday raised an elegant brow. "I see. A competitor has appeared."

You chuckled. "You’re not actually jealous, are you?"

Sunday didn’t answer. Instead, he leaned in, resting his chin on your shoulder. "You wouldn’t abandon me for a mere feline, would you?" His voice was smooth, teasing, but there was a quiet possessiveness beneath it.

You rolled your eyes. "It’s just a cat, Sunday."

"Yet it looks at me as if I am the intruder here," he mused, golden eyes glinting. "Fascinating."

For the next few days, you often caught Sunday and the cat watching each other in eerie silence, as if locked in an unspoken battle for dominance. Whenever Sunday pulled you onto his lap, the cat would jump onto your shoulder. Whenever the cat nestled against your chest, Sunday would wrap an arm around your waist, subtly claiming you back.

It was absurd.

"Sunday," you sighed. "You’re not actually fighting a cat for my attention."

He simply smiled, pressing a kiss to your hand. "My dear, I always win."

The cat, unimpressed, flicked its tail.

And so, the celestial rivalry continued—an eternal battle between a regal dream-weaver and his equally dignified feline reflection.

[always-just-red]

hii! i have a request!

the mc/reader has a pet cat and adores cats so rafayel will have to accept that his beloved bride has a furry little companion bc them and the cat are a 2 for 1 deal and the cat is basically their baby and there’ll alway probably be a cat in the home forever

ty!! adore ur writing!

Aww thank you anon!! As a devoted cat-person, I'm THRILLED to finally be sharing my vision of cat-dad Raf. 🙂‍↕️ This fic felt so personal in the end, I swear I can't write Raf without it accidentally becoming this window into all the intimacy I want but don't have 😭 Anyway!!! Dedicating this to my babies, Floof and Velcro!

Cat-Sitting

Rafayel x Reader 🎨

Summary: Was it really a good idea to leave Rafayel and your cat unsupervised?

Genre: Fluff + humour

Warnings/Additional tags: gn!reader, established relationship

| Word count: 2.5k | Masterlist | Opt-in to my taglist here!

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

Captain Jenna indicates the large, glass monitor behind her— a finger dragging across it, zooming in on a smaller section of the virtual map. “There’s been an insurgence of Wanderer activity here, and—” another swipe of her finger— “here, so we’ll be increasing patrols in these districts. While public safety remains the priority, we should be investigating any unusual fluctuations of…”

You’re so, so tired. Your chin is resting on your hand and your leader’s briefing is starting to sound like a bedtime story. Sat beside you, Xavier is looking similarly uninspired. The blue of his eyes is glazing over. His eyelids are drooping. When he blinks, it’s slow and unfocused.

Your phone buzzes and it feels like you’ve been doused in cold water; your heart jumps. Glancing around, thankfully no-one but Xavier noticed. His gaze flits over to you with lazy interest as you reach into your pocket, checking your phone under the table. It’s a text from Rafayel: your cat is broken??

You frown, ever so slightly. Before your mind has any time to run away with that ominous message, another notification comes through:

[Silly fish <3 has sent an image]

With one more furtive check that no-one’s watching, you tap at the screen, opening up your messages. You squint down at the photo. It’s your cat, perched on the arm of your sofa. She looks perfectly content, and decidedly unbroken.

Rafayel texts: it had legs before, right?

Again: where

And again: where are they???

You have to consciously hold back your smile. Your cat’s legs are tucked away underneath her; you can’t see them in the photo. ‘Loaf’, you surreptitiously text back.

Rafayel responds: ???????????

You close your phone as more messages come through. You don’t have to read them to know it’s the same emoji, over and over: artsy birb, lying in a puddle of tears. You’ve silenced your phone so it no longer buzzes. Jenna is drawing patrol routes on her map. Xavier leans over to you, whispering: “How’s the first-time cat-sitter?”

Without saying a word, you move your phone under the table so he can sneak a peek at it. There are now twenty-three unread messages. Twenty-four. Twenty-five.

Xavier chuckles under his breath, and this time, you can’t help but smile. Jenna turns, locking both of you in a steely-grey stare. Xavier gives her a grin, and you give her a double thumbs-up. With a sigh, she goes back to her presentation.

…

“So I said, ‘what am I supposed to do? Not kill the Wanderer? Y’know, the Wanderer tearing its way through a street full of people— just because it’s a tiiiiny bit different than normal?’ And get this! He says, ‘yes.’ He says, ‘you should have taken some time to study it, brought me data and samples.’ Can you believe that?”

You laugh quietly as you finish up typing your latest report. You can believe that, actually. If a Wanderer broke in through the window of this building right here, right now, you’re pretty sure Nero would be sat with a clipboard, taking notes. “C’mon, what did you expect?”

“Uh… some empathy, maybe?” your colleague frowns.

“Yeah, that’ll be the day.” Your phone rings in your pocket, and you whip it out with business-like efficiency. You’re on autopilot. “Hello?” you ask, opening up the next set of gloriously exciting blank text boxes on your screen.

“Cutie!”

It’s basically a yell. You narrow your eyes at your monitor, inputting your name, your badge number. “Raf,” you return apathetically. “What’s up?”

“Code red. Code red!”

“Mmhmm?” You don’t know what that means.

“You have to come home. Right now. It’s an emergency!”

“Is it, though?” Your keyboard clacks, only stopping when you have to check today’s date before filling it out on your form.

“Are you even listening? I said code red. Does that mean nothing to you?”

“Yup! Gold star for Rafayel.”

“Seriously?! I’m trying to tell you that your precious little angel’s in trouble.”

Was that supposed to be your voice? You don’t sound like that. “I’m sorry you’re in trouble, Raf.”

“No!” he squeaks. “Not me! The— oh for the love of the ocean, the lobsters, the sharks and the crabs— can you just get here? Please?!”

For the love of all of those things, hmm? You chuckle. “Okay, okay. I’m on my way. Hang in there. Okay, angel? Little angel fishie. Ooh! Angelfish!”

There’s silence from the other end. “…You done?”

You hit enter on your keyboard. “Please, we both know you’re blushing right now.”

…

You stand at the door of your apartment— home early from work, courtesy of the old ‘family emergency!’ card. It’s sort of nice, honestly; you can’t remember the last time you got to play it. Family emergency… You think of you and Rafayel, your little cat, and Reddie. There’s a warm feeling in your heart as you open the door.

That feeling is gone when Rafayel snatches you by your arm.

“Quick,” he says, dragging you towards the lounge, “quick, quick, quick!”

No ‘welcome home’ kiss means something’s wrong. Actually wrong. Your bag tumbles from your shoulder; you have to skirt around the coffee table to keep from crashing into it. “Whoa,” you mumble, “Raf, slow down. What happened? Tell me what happened.”

“Look!”

At last, your arm is released. Your heart is in your throat as you do look, and—

You’ve got to be kidding.

Your cat has moved from the arm of the couch, but she didn’t make it far. She’s snuggled up like an adorable croissant— one paw over her face. You realise, fairly quickly, that the ‘emergency’ lies in what she’s found a nest in: a crumpled heap with a criss-cross pattern. Cream, navy, and red wool, all squished up beneath her. It’s Rafayel’s cardigan.

“Aww!” you coo.

“Aww?” Rafayel echoes. “That’s all you have to say— aww?”

You’re not listening. You crouch down beside the couch, leaning in close. “Hi baby,” you coo again, tickling at your cat’s paw gently. She lifts it, one eye half-opening. You smile, and the eye widens more— filling with your reflection. “Has the big, bad fishie been bullying you today?”

She makes a tiny chirp as she stretches her front legs.

“That’s a lie!” Rafayel snaps.

“Oh no!” you sympathise— pointedly not with the man behind you. “What did he do, huh? This is a safe space. You can tell me.”

Both of your cat’s eyes are open now, still heavy with sleep. She speaks back to you: matching your tone with a soft-spoken meow.

“I see,” you tut, nodding. “And then what?”

She meows again. You gasp.

Suddenly, Rafayel is on his knees beside you, jabbing a finger towards her face. “You traitor! We had a deal.”

Your cat stares at the finger. Yawns— briefly an eldritch horror: all sharp, shining teeth— before curling a paw over it. Rafayel goes still. His eyes shine with the quiet panic you see when you brush a hair away from his forehead, or sweep a tear from his cheek with your thumb. It’s so soft; he doesn’t know what to do with it. You smile knowingly. He sees you and clears his throat, his hand slinking back.

“Okay,” he mutters to himself, “I have an idea. Lemme just…”

He pinches an edge of the cardigan. “What’re you doing?” you ask.

“You ever seen that magic trick? With the tablecloth? I’ve just gotta…”

“No!”

He’s biting back a grin as he adds: “But if I’m fast enough—”

“No, Raf!” you giggle as you intercept him. He laughs in a small, genuine way too, his hands shooting back to the cardigan every time you manage to wrestle them off of it. You have to pry at his fingers. Catch them before he sends your cat on an unscheduled flight across your apartment.

Inches away, she watches your scrabbling hands, completely unperturbed. When Rafayel gives up— his fingers relaxing in their tangle with yours, his laughter dwindling— she blinks drowsily.

Time feels slower, and somehow forgiving. You lay your head down on the sofa. “Do you really want your cardigan back?” you murmur, because your cat is asleep again.

Rafayel slumps, mirroring you as he pulls your hand close to his lips. “Nah.” His voice is like warm, orange light, and he kisses the tip of your forefinger. “It’s okay. What’s mine is yours, cutie. And what’s yours is—” he falters, looking towards the bundle of fur beside you.

You hum appreciatively, letting him plant one, two more kisses before you pull your hand away. “Wait here,” you breathe, pushing yourself back up onto your feet.

One expedition to the kitchen later, you return with a small bag of treats. You find your previous seat on the floor, then reach into the bag— pulling out a small, fish-shaped biscuit. “Look,” you chuckle, wiggling it through the air like it’s swimming, “it’s you.”

“Ha, ha.” Rafayel rolls his eyes, cheek still squished against the couch.

He needs more convincing, so you make the fish swim in his direction, stopping just short of his nose. It floats patiently before him, persisting even when his face wrinkles. You wiggle it one way. Then the other. This earns you another eyeroll, but he does at least smile.

You flick the fish over to your cat. She’s awake in an instant, mouth snatching it up: teeth splintering it with a crack. You swear you see the colour leave Rafayel’s face. You hand him the bag of treats, and with a pout, he starts to set up a trail of them: leading across the sofa. There’s a mournful sigh for each he lays down. Even the odd, whispered, “I’m sorry.”

“Give it a rest, will you?” you huff. “I watched you eat an entire seafood platter last night.”

He narrows his eyes at you, holding your gaze as he puts the next treat down deliberately slowly. Behind him, your cat has stood, stretched, and is now pottering along, crunching away without a care in the world. Rafayel reaches for his cardigan, giving it a shake before threading his arms through the sleeves.

When the crunching stops, he turns— another treat caught between two of his fingers. Your cat takes it carefully, delicately, and she chirps as those same fingers tickle the top of her head. A contented purr underscores the moment. Rafayel smiles as he plays with her ears.

Then he catches you watching him, your eyebrow raised. “What?” he asks self-consciously.

You scoff. “Code red my ass.”

…

Rafayel doesn’t really know when you fell asleep.

Your head is on his shoulder, and his pencil moves mindfully slowly: a quiet scratch, scratch as it waltzes over his sketchbook. The room has gone dark. Tangerine light has stopped spilling from the windows, and he can’t reach any light switch, so he settles for the bleedings of the TV. Cool blues. Pale greens. The space around him flickers, and there are voices, too: broadcasters, droning on.

He hears it, even though he’s trying not to. “Another Wanderer attack”, they report. “Indicative of a recent, worrying insurgence of incidents.” Updated statistics. Civilian casualties. Hunter casualties.

Rafayel’s pencil has stopped. After a moment, he sighs— pressing a kiss to the top of your head you don’t feel, and will never know the weight of. He forces himself to look back down. Draw the shapes and the lines of the things that distract him from that feeling in his chest.

Someone is watching him.

His gaze wanders up, finding eyes across the room. Your cat is studying him from afar, sat with her tail curled neatly around her paws. He pokes his tongue out at her. She chirps back. He returns to his sketches, and half a minute later, she lands on the arm of the couch beside him, having pounced gracefully up. She doesn’t deserve any more of his attention. His pencil moves up and down, up and down, and she’s transfixed by the end of it. She lifts a paw, and—

“Nuh uh,” Rafayel warns, his eyes still on the page.

The paw waits. Rafayel chuckles. He raises the pencil, waggling it in the air between them, and her pupils go wide as she bats at it. With one sweep, she brings it closer to her mouth— bites down. Crunch.

Rafayel tuts: “Monster.”

Thankfully, she’s soon bored by the game. She sits, watching him expectantly, like he must have another one lined up for her. He doesn’t, so he turns his sketchbook towards her instead.

“What d’you think, little co-conspirator?”

The page is full of sketches, mostly of you. There’s one of you sat at your kitchen island, sipping some tea and looking like you wished you were back in bed; your hair was a mess. There’s also Reddie: soft, flowy lines and shimmering, monochrome scales. In one corner, your cat is sleeping with her legs tucked underneath her. ‘Loaf’ he’s written next to it, with a crude, tiny sketch of some bread.

Your cat isn’t looking; she’s staring past the page, at the real you. With a half-formed meow, she leaps onto his legs, making a beeline for yours. “Nope!” he says, blocking her path with the sketchbook. “Sorry, kitty, but our brave hunter needs to rest.”

She tries to get past him, but for her every movement, his sketchbook moves too: always one step ahead. With another, more indignant meow, she starts to tread circles on his lap. Then she kneads at his leg, claws sinking in. “Monster,” he whispers again, drawing air through his teeth. “Relax, will you? Jeez.”

His thighs are still being treated like pincushions, so he lifts her gently, his other hand reaching behind him. He knows what she wants. His cardigan is draped over the back of the sofa, and he drags it onto his lap—straightening it out as he grumbles, “this is extortion, you know.”

The cat is lowered back down, and she curls up in the wool of his cardigan, like that had always been the plan. A purr begins to rumble, deepening as Rafayel pets at her head, running fingers— aching from sketching— through the warmth of her fur. Her eyes are sleepy. Rafayel yawns, his head drooping to rest against yours.

His fingers move mindlessly, enjoying the softness while the television talks of tragedy, and he doesn’t notice.

[paddockletters]

redeemed | lando norris part 9

masterlist | previous part | next part

yourusername posted stories

yourusername

liked by lando and 102,386 others

yourusername: life lately

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user: girl you’ve been GLOWING lately ✨ what’s in the water???

user: you, a laptop, and a plane?? business woman realness

user: not me zooming in trying to see if HE’S with you in pic #3 😭

user: this whole post screams “my life is together and I have inner peace” 🧘‍♀️ jealous fr

user: someone said ✨ main character ✨ and meant it

user: she’s living her best life and Lando’s somewhere coping 😭

user: honestly love how lowkey she is but still gives ✨content✨

lando

liked by maxverstappen and 1,042,212 others

lando: 你好 p2! 🇨🇳

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user: YOU DESERVED THAT PODIUM 👏 so proud of you 🧡

user: idk what was trickier, the track or choosing which one of these legends I love most 🧡

user: P2 king behaviour only 🔥🔥

user: 🧍🏽‍♀️the silence from him about his actual gf is louder than the engines

user: this podium was earneddd. the defence, the pace, the strategy. Lando freaking Norris everyone!!!

user: wait no pics with his gf again?? not even one on stories? 🥲

user: okay but can we talk about the fact that when y/n shows up, he literally posts her or with her, even when he finishes p8 💀

user: miss when y/n was in the posts tbh. her energy >>>> like yeah congrats king but also where is she lol

user: every time y/n is trackside, he posts her or at least tags her in stories… his gf? nothing. zip. zero. 🫣

user: this is the 3rd race he’s posted podium pics but no sign of his gf. it’s giving… PR?

user: posted pictures with max and checo but not his gf???? 😭😭😭

lando'sgf

liked by lando and 21,972 others

lando'sgf: grateful for days like these 💫

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user: okay you looked amazing all weekend tbh 😍🔥

user: awwww he does smile different with you 🥹🧡

user: I’ll say it: Lando never posts her but at least she posts him 😭

user: Y/N would never wear those shoes with that jacket but okay 🙃 (y’all calm down it’s just a joke 💀)

user: cute pics but I miss when it was lando & y/n at race week 😭

user: Y/N is literally friends with her and y’all STILL compare them lmao it’s embarrassing

user: Imagine being this chill knowing fans dissect your every post 👀 power move tbh

user: honestly this was a serve. her PR game is stronger lately

yourusername: you looked so pretty this weekend!! 🧡✨

user: omg not y/n being classy as always 😭 QUEEN user: she ate that comment up wtf why is she perfect user: they really are friends huh?? user: y/n supporting her when y’all throw shade every weekend is the real flex

yourusername posted stories

yourusername posted stories

oscarpiastri added stories

taglist @hadesnumber1daughter @harrysdimple05 @royaleaxis @angelluv16 @formulaal @chezmardybum @freyathehuntress @taylorrrrrrrrrrswiftttt @azuramicah @anayaverse @awritingtree @norrisainz33 @rbv3rstappen @clemson20 @mintdde0nu @blushmimi @atsumubabe @irisesinthegarden @screamingwines @starrxxgirl @thegalaxyisunfolding @taylorrrrrrrrrrswiftttt @kathenaaa @apollos-arc @mxm47max @geometric-circle @goldenharrysworld @htpssgavi @whistlef0rthechoir @landossainz @vroomingrussell @neo-teenkidz @spideyy @theshida @its-hell @dilflover44 @reemoony @esw1012

[iceecreamcakex]

yayyyy riseeeee

Ty for the tag :D

1. Favorite Character: APRIL O NEIL!!! I just think shes super cute plus a very fun and lively character

2. Least Favorite Character: There isn't really anyone who comes to mind for this one. I love all the rise characters but i guess id have to say Bullhop is the most boring in my opinion. (sorryyys)

3. Character You Think Is Attractive: Kendra. Shes evil and has purple hair, what can i say :))

4. Favorite Villain: BIG MAMA FOR SURE!! Her design (both human and spider) is gorgeous, her accent is so sillyyy, and she has so much lore. I really like how we get that deeper understanding of her past and reveals of her connection to splinter as the show goes on.

5.Least Favorite Villain: Repo Mantis because he would literally steal candy from babies. (love him, and especially love his design too tho)

6. Favorite Duo: SOURPATCH DUOO!!!!!! (April and Leo for the uninitiated :3). I could, actually, i'm pretty sure i already have i just gotta look, write an essay about these two. They're just so similar in their behavior and motivations, and they're my favorites and should have gotten more canon interactionnnnssss!!

7. Favorite Ship: Im going to have to go with Capril for this one. Those cornball losers are just so sweet together!! ^_^

Why you like rotmnt:

The art, characters, and humor, is so unique not just for tmnt but for western cartoons in general. You can see how much heart was but into the show in every frame. Rise is just one of that shows where you come out a different person after watching, it makes the world feel like sunshine and rainbows again lol.

@thenerdy-artist @i-am-combusting @smokeywaterfall @ldma-boodyshaker900 @djpachipikachu

Calling all ROTTMNT fans

Hi i'm new and I've been seeing these on Tumblr, so I thought to do one :) Btw tag your Rottmnt friends to do this to!

Favorite Character and 1 reason why: (Mine is Donnie because he's funny XD)

Least Favorite Character and 1 reason why: (Mine is the Leader of the Kraang bc of what he did to Leo..)

A character you think is attractive(Can skip if you don't have one): (Mine is DONNIE >:))

Favorite Villain: (Mine is Kendra, or Big Mama)

Least Favorite Villain: (Mine is same as my least fav character)

Favorite Duo: (Mine is DISASTER TWINS)

Favorite Ship: (None tbh)

2 reasons why you like Rottmnt :3: (Mine is because it's a genuinely funny show, the humor in it is great, and the characters are so well done.)

Your tags: (Mine: @donniecrazy20, @geese-ball, @mycomars, @tonystarkwasrobbed, @ihateitallsomerandomguy, @yourlocalmia, @sockkllyy, @strawberryswirl4321)

[rwrbficrecs]

confess my truth (in swooping, sloping cursive) by viciouslyqueer (book-verse)

Madeleine: In the summary it says ”a college AU where Alex realizes he's demisexual and Henry is just about the sweetest guy.”. This one is so darn sweet, important and interesting and I can relate a lot. I’ve read it so many times, I love it so so much!

Who are we to fight the alchemy by @tartadxfresa (book-verse)

@taylor-27: It's an infuriating and flirty gym au. It's Alex and Henry meeting at the gym and striking a friendship all the while the internet is fangirling over their chemistry. It's Henry and Alex doing viral trends. It's swoon worthy.

Show You Off, Tonight I Wanna Show You Off by @swoonoveryou3 (book-verse)

@taylor-27: Alex is a proud husband who also happens to be an actor. Henry is a professor and happily supports his husband. They walk the red carpet for an award show together. It's a hard launch, social media goes wild. That’s it, that's the fic.

Every Time My Heart Swings Back to You by @xthelastknownsurvivorx (book-verse)

@suseagull5914: SUCH a good multichapter that not only is great from the sci-fi angle and the classic not quite enemies to lovers trope firstprince fans know and love, but is such a great in-depth exploration of reincarnation and all that entails. I absolutely loved this fic!

before the first light by @dumbpeachjuice (book-verse)

@suseagull5914: A fantasy AU, hints of Greek mythology, AND a soulmate AU, and the boys fighting for each other, plus it's by an author who never fails to write amazing fics? This fic is definitely one you don't want to miss!

i lay where i fell by @thewindowatkirkland (book-verse)

@dot524: This story is short(ish), but it completely blew me away. It’s an AU from Henry’s POV, and he’s struggling to move past an abusive relationship. His dear friend Alex walks with him as he recovers and tries to move forward. The yearning in this story is so perfect and I loved the payoff at the end. Beautiful and absolutely pulls you in, but please consider the tags before reading.

tangled in you by 0npurpose (book/movie-verse)

@dot524: It’s a body-swap AU! Henry and Alex mysteriously swap places after Cakegate, and hilarity, angst, and yearning ensues. I really enjoyed the Henry POV in this fic and the way the body swap immediately casts their relationship in a new light. A fun one to read!

The Throne He Deserves by @anchoredarchangel (book-verse)

@suseagull5914: You've read No Consequences, but what about the rest of the series? This installment is a deep dive into Henry's background, his feelings about said background, and Alex's reactions when faced with that reality. Don't worry, though, the author helps alleviate the angst by taking advantage of the personality traits of a couple characters we all love!

The Wait Before the Fall by @anchoredarchangel (book-verse)

@suseagull5914: If you're looking for a fic that has angst with a happy ending, this is definitely the first place I would start! Between the angst and writing skills of the author, I stayed up late multiple nights in a row just so I didn't end on too bad of a cliffhanger, and I absolutely loved every second of it! Not only that, but this fic helps the series come to such a satisfying conclusion, and, like The Throne He Deserves before it, paints such a good picture of just how far Alex will go for Henry- and Henry's response to that devotion. I'll say it again: I couldn't put this fic down!

What’s Up, Danger? (series) by @cultofsappho (book-verse)

@dot524: This story is a Spider-Man AU, and it’s so much fun! Since I first bookmarked it and added it to my TBR, it’s become a whole series, and the origin story might be my favorite. Alex is Spider-Man and Henry’s the one who finally found out what was going on with his boyfriend. But there’s a lot of angst and terror that goes along with being the significant other to a superhero. I hope this keeps getting updates, because each installment stands on its own in such a unique way and I want more of this AU!

we can share a lifeline by dazedandconfused (book-verse)

@na-dineee: Consider this an anti-recommendation — read it only if you're in the mood for a cathartic cry. Or twelve. It hurts. A lot. But it's also brilliant. Raw, real, and so beautiful. Alex and Henry meet in 1983, at just 5 and 6 years old. The last chapter? Set in 2062. The tags say: Growing up, growing old, time jumps, twelve years in the life of Alex and Henry — and honestly, this fic wrecked me in the best possible way.

Coming Up For Oxygen by @clrmntdzfx (book/movie-verse)

@na-dineee: This canon divergence fic (Alex POV) kicks off after Rio, well before the Royal Wedding. Alex is fed up with his dull uni life in D.C., so he comes up with a plan: a year abroad. In Oxford, of all places. It’s Enemies to Friends to Lovers to Exes to Lovers, packed with angst, emotion, and not to forget the steamy scenes. It’s deliciously long, and every character — even Pez and Ellen — is perfectly written, adding real depth to the story.

The Prince of Nowhere by graceofgrayskull (book-verse)

@na-dineee: Once again, stumbled across a stunning fic thanks to the gorgeous fan art by @lieselart! In this Coffee Shop/University AU, Prince Henry has already left the UK to study in New York — determined to abdicate. But mentally, he’s not in a great place. Then he meets (non-famous) law student Alex, who’s working part-time at a coffee shop. The pining, folks — I practically melted into the sofa. The dual POV is perfect — Henry’s longing and Alex’s teasing are a joy to read, and watching their feelings grow is delightful.

All our Sweetest Hours Fly Fastest by @ahistoricdistraction (book-verse)

@suseagull5914: If you're looking for a heavy dose of angst with a happy ending, this fic is for you! Alex ends up in the middle of a plane crash, and, well... Let's just say that this fic has such good Alex characterization, and the author has serious skills creating original characters, because I definitely got attached to a few of them! Absolutely loved this fic!

i can't help it if you look like an angel by @coffeecatsme (book-verse)

@suseagull5914: David is the absolute cutest in this and Alex bonding with him is too! Need I say more?

Give Me Comfort, Give Me Help by @dwell-the-brave (book-verse)

@na-dineee: To quote Pez from this fic: “This is his nightmare, Alex.” Philip dies in a skiing accident, and Henry feels obligated to step up as heir to the throne. This post-canon fic turns Henry and Alex’s world upside down — and it’s absolutely gripping! The entire 'Heavy Weighs the Crown' series offers a rare and incredibly compelling “what if” take on canon-compliant FirstPrince!

And they call it— by @clottedcreamfudge (book-verse)

@suseagull5914: David and Alex bonding and magic, pining Henry... This fic is a combination of some of my favorite things and it absolutely did not disappoint! It's sweet, it's funny and it'll leave you with all the feels.

i can't heal what i hold onto by @anincompletelist (book-verse)

@na-dineee: Henry lives with Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome (EDS), a chronic condition that is both painful and limiting for him. On top of everything else he has to carry, it adds to a constant feeling of low spirits. But then there’s Alex, who refuses to be pushed away and, little by little, manages to break down Henry’s walls. The story is written with such a gentle and tender touch that, despite all the pain, there’s always a thread of hope running through it.

Always Where I Need To Be by @cha-melodius (book-verse)

@suseagull5914: David is the absolute best boy in this fic! He's so good at taking care of both Alex and Henry, and is a matchmaker too! This was a reread for me, but when I realized it wasn't on our list, I had to fix it, because the author does an amazing job at not only characterization, especially of David, but Henry and Alex too, which is always quite the feat for a oneshot!

praying our bridges don't make waves by @anincompletelist (book-verse)

@dot524: This is a soulmate fic but set in a sci-fi world where your entire life revolves around your “tether.” Alex opposes the idea of tethering with every iota of his being, but things change when June becomes ill and he conspires with Henry (who he’s just met) to use the tether benefits to pay for treatment. This one held me spellbound and the world is so interesting. Lots of great interaction between Alex and his girls, with Henry, and with himself as he wrestles with internal turmoil to navigate the situation. A really intriguing story!

passing notes in secrecy (i was enchanted to meet you) by @rockyroadkylers (book-verse)

@suseagull5914: This is the absolute cutest high school AU! It's their emails, but the high school version, a 5+1 that will give you all the feels because of how much they care about each other in this oneshot.

Break Out by @cricketnationrise (book-verse)

@porcelainmortal: I waited to start this wip (now complete) because I am so not a hockey girl in any way, shape, or form. Turns out that doesn't matter because this fic is so brilliantly written! The hockey is there, but the technical aspects aren't overwhelming and the focus is on the characters. A lot of the OCs are interesting and fun, but naturally, Alex and Henry are the center of everything. This story has absolutely gripped me and I can't wait for the last two chapters almost as much as I wish there was even more of it left.

check out our past Monthly Faves here ❤️

[yuujispunches]

Intimacy with Suguru Geto HC

Pairing: Suguru Geto x fem!reader

Summary: headcannons about what it would be like to be intimate with Suguru.

CW (content warning): talk about sex, mentions of oral sex (both f and m receiving), mentions of masturbation, praise kink, smut under the cut MDNI (+18), this is pretty much smut without any plot.

AN (author’s note): Hi! So this is my second time posting this because I accidentally deleted my original post because it wasn’t showing up on the tags and I was trying to fix it 💀 This one was requested, I’m currently working on another request as well as a Yuji one-shot. This was my first writing smut so please bare with me. As always a reminder that English isn’t my first language and I’m typing this on my phone so I’m sorry if there are any typos/mistakes. Enjoy and let me know what you think! :)

Requests are open so feel free to send them! (you can check the list of character sI write for on my pinned post)

Masterlist

Intense and controlled.

Geto doesn’t rush, he absolutely loves taking his time with you. He’s methodical and deliberate, every touch is calculated to get the reaction he wants from you, taking his time to read your reactions watch the way you react to his touches, the way he can see goosebumps forming on your skin as he kissed down your body, hearing the sound you make. He likes control, not in a cruel way, but because he enjoys understanding you deeply and guiding the experience. He would never soy no to a quickie, but he definitely prefers taking his time.

Eye contact

As we said, Geto definitely loves watching you. He makes sure to lock eyes with you often, not just out of passion but because he wants to see everything: your pleasure, your hesitation, your trust. He loves just watching you, whether it was him making you get yourself off or even when you’re just in plain missionary. He definitely makes you look at him whenever you cum. It’s part of how he connects emotionally. And if you look up at him while you’re on your knees for him? Yeah he’s definitely a goner.

Soundproof.

It’s not like Geto is quiet but he’s not loud either. He lets out breathy moans in your ear, pants and heavy breathing heard in the room. He knows is presence alone is commanding, he doesn't need to raise his voice to make you feel the weight of his desire or his authority. You’ll always feel watched, wanted, and chosen. One thing he does love is calling you pet names, specially Angel.

Praise.

Geto definitely has a praise kink, whether it’s hik praising you or the other way around. Even when he’s rough he’s moaning in your ear telling you how good you feel, how amazing you look or how good you’re taking him in. As your body tenses, legs trembling, breath catching, his voice stays with you low, steady, coaxing. “Just like that... you’re doing so well for me.” He’s proud of being the one that brought you so much pleasure, he almost holds it like it’s something sacred. And afterward, he kisses your knuckles, your cheeks, your thighs, grounding you as if to say: you are cherished, even here.

When you’re the one that praises him it never fails to make him loose it, even on the days where he’s rougher. All it takes is you telling him something among the lines of: “No one touches me like you do.” And he growls into your ear, low and dangerous: “Say that again.” He wants to hear it. Over and over. Wants you to tell him he’s better, that he’s all you want, that he’s the only one who can wreck you and hold you afterward. Because if he can be that to you, maybe he’s not completely lost.

Pace and exceptions.

As it was said before, Suguro loves taking his time with you, however there is one situation where he can’t control himself and that’s when he’s sent out on missions, being obligated to spend too much time away from you for his liking. He doesn’t speak. Just grabs your jaw and kisses you hard, dragging you back into his body like you might vanish if he loosens his grip. You try to ask how the mission went he cuts you off with his mouth and lifts you onto the nearest surface. His voice is rough when he finally speaks: “Later. I need you now.” He strips you fast, barely breaking eye contact, pupils blown wide. His hand closes around your throat, thumb stroking just under your jaw not tight, just enough to hold you in place. His other hand is already between your thighs, fingers slicking through your wetness as he mutters, “Look at you already ready for me. You missed this, didn’t you?”

Little reminders.

It’s not like he means to mark you, but when he sees the reminders of the night before on your skin he loves it. Geto's hands clutch your hips as he thrusts into you from behind, pace relentless. Your back arches, your hands claw at the sheets, and he holds you in place like he can’t risk letting you go. He’s panting now soft curses slipping from his mouth as your body tightens around him. You glance back, and the look in his eyes is wild not just aroused, but desperate. Like he’s trying to lose himself in you completely. His grip on your hips is so tight that you’re sure that the day after you would have bruises of the shape of his fingertips.

And you were right. The next morning when you’re changing he catches a glimpse of the bruises on your hips and a few hickeys he didn’t even remember giving you here and there. He pulls you in by the waist, kisses them again, then whispers, “You wear me so well. Like you were made for this.”

Aftercare.

Geto always makes sure that you’re taken care of after the both of you are finished, although the way he does it depends on the kind of day he was having.

When he had a bad day once it’s over, he collapses beside you, breath ragged. He doesn’t say anything. But his arm slides around your waist and pulls you close, burying his face in your neck. You feel the tension leave him, slowly, like your skin is the only thing keeping him tethered to the present. And even if he never says it, you feel it in the way his body curls into yours. After a while he gets up, getting a towel and cleaning you up throughly before getting back into bed with you, his arms holding you a bit tighter.

On the good days though he absolutely dotes, even running baths for you. He loved getting in the bath behind you and holding you. The water is warm, fragrant with oils, and he slides into the tub with you, pulling you back into his chest. His arms wrap around your waist, his chin rests on your shoulder, and for long minutes he says nothing, just kisses your damp temple and lets the silence be tender. His fingers rub small, slow circles over your hips. “You were perfect,” he murmurs eventually, breath warm against your skin.

tags: @chigiridrider1

Taglists are open so let me know if you want to be added! :)

[antianakin]

There's a second reblog of this post where I responded to someone's tags where they basically said exactly this, and the general answer I have to this is that my frustration with this scene and this dialogue isn't that I think Cassian SHOULD know these things about Bail, many of them are secrets Bail is keeping very intentionally to protect certain people or happened a long time ago or both, but that it genuinely feels like we're supposed to believe Cassian when he says it despite all evidence in other media that's been telling us that Bail is the father of the rebellion for years.

And while I'd have been happy to accept it as just "Cassian's personal biases" mixed with "Cassian's emotional over Luthen's death" causing him to say things like that, it's not really represented that way to me.

Not when they decided that Bail's agents were incapable of saving Mon Mothma back in episode 9 and so Luthen and Cassian had to step in on their own to salvage the situation and then the Gold Squadron basically came in and said "We're gonna take over from here to escort her to Yavin because it's better optics than if you do it" and Cassian and Luthen's involvement in it seems to have been completely left out of any report ever made.

Not when so much of the focus of this last arc is on Luthen and Luthen's impact on the characters and the reason behind why they decide to believe Luthen's warning is basically because several people just had faith in him and choose to convince Bail into it.

Not when they decided to have Bail described as "the man Cassian doesn't like."

Not when Tony Gilory did an interview a little while back where he explicitly said that, in this story, Mon and Luthen are the real founders of the rebellion and Bail isn't even mentioned.

So the reason I bring up all of the things Bail did with and for the Jedi in ROTS is because it's canonical stuff that WE THE AUDIENCE know he's done that make it very hard to accept the show trying to convince me that Luthen - not Bail - is the real founder of the rebellion. Like I'm sorry but I have seen these movies and I know how long Bail's been fighting against the Empire and Luthen seems to have been an Imperial soldier for at least a little while before he decides to leave it to save Kleya. Luthen clearly has contributed a LOT to the rebellion, I'm not saying he didn't, and has sacrificed plenty for this cause, but I refuse to dismiss or devalue Bail's contribution to pretend that Luthen is the real founder of the rebellion and Bail is not.

It seems a little hilarious to me that they have Cassian making the argument that the only reason any of them are here, the only reason the REBELLION exists at all, is because of Luthen... and he's saying it to BAIL FUCKING ORGANA.

I'm sorry, but while I am happy to accept that Luthen did do a LOT of things to keep the rebellion alive and likely recruited quite a few of the people on Yavin to this cause himself and trained them up, there are just as many if not more who are there explicitly because of BAIL ORGANA.

Bail Organa who began fighting the Empire the moment he showed up at the Jedi Temple the night of Order 66 and turned around to save any Jedi he could and then became a GETAWAY DRIVER as Yoda went to assassinate the Emperor and then proceeded to agree to take in Anakin Skywalker's child in order to hide her from the Empire.

Bail Organa who has literally been shown helping recruit the entire Ghost Crew and likely brought on the entire Phoenix Squadon and theoretically the entire Gold Squadron. Bail Organa who was the one who helped Riyo Chuchi try to fight for clone rights. Bail Organa who saw Ahsoka Tano on Naboo for Padme's funeral and immediately turns around to offer her a chance to join the rebellion which she does eventually choose to take. Bail Organa who eventually does allow his own DAUGHTER to join the rebellion and run missions when she's old enough.

You cannot convince me that somehow Luthen Rael is MORE responsible for the creation of the rebellion and its existence and people's involvement in it than Bail Organa. You can't.

[hawkins-batman]

With all this Bychance drama going on in the Byler tag lately what’s your honest opinion on Bychance?

I think it's utterly harmless.

It's a crack ship that's fun to engage with. It has 0 chances of being canon, but I'm kind of annoyed with some of the discourse around it recently. For one, crack ships are a bedrock of fandom. It's okay to dislike one, but I'd just mute or scroll at that point.

Secondly, I really resent this notion that Will Byers is only capable of loving or being loved by Mike Wheeler. That's just so dehumanizing. What, Mike can have a girlfriend and continuously be homophobic and hurtful to Will, and Will is just supposed to wait around on his hands and knees for Mike to figure himself out?

Will is deserving of love and affection. He doesn't deserve to grovel after someone. Canonically, I really want Byler endgame to be a thing. I want Will to get his happy ending and Mike to figure his shit out and resolve it. I think it's the logical conclusion of what has been written.

But outside of the canon narrative, I not only enjoy Will being shipped with other male characters his age, I actively support and encourage it. I love fics where Will figures himself out and finds a way to internal happiness on his own, and only gets with Mike later, after he has figured himself out and earns his way back into Will's affections.

Sometimes, I think some people are more interested in Mike ending up happy than they are about Will, and I think discourse around shipping Will with other characters is what reveals that. Why can't he be attracted to other people? Why can't he enjoy their affections and want to date them? Why does he have to constantly wait around for Mike and get hurt over and over and over again, just so he can pet Mike's hair and babygirl him when Mike finally decides he wants something? Hasn't he been through enough pain? And no one was ever around to defend him, or pet his hair, or tell him everything was going to be okay. They abandoned him again and again.

So, at least in the realm of fandom—fan art and fan fics—let Will stans enjoy imagining him happy. We all want him with Mike canonically and in the end because we know that will make him happy; but we also know that it's not harmful for him to explore his sexuality and find other small flames and loves along the way.

/rant

((I do want to be clear after all of that that there is no ill-will intended towards people who just don't fuck with Bychance. That's valid, you don't have to like it, but I needed to get all of that off my chest lmao))

[munamarvel13]

Silly Game Time: Bringing back a crowd favorite! If you had to talk about something for an hour--anything at all, no matter how bizarre or niche--what subject would you choose?

Something? As in singular? More than one? Oh boy...

Okay, I can work with this. One for each hour, ha!

First off is books. I read all sorts of genres as long as it's not too dark so I can yap about anything and everything about a book I've ever or reading.

Second is superheroes. From classic heroism to gritty realism, you all know I love my fair share of caped (or non caped) crusaders.

Thirdly is my show. I would start from the history of it. Where I first wrote it down, how it was before and then going down to the current ones from the characters to the settings to every piece of lore imaginable, even the ones that aren't yet canon but felt right to add.

Last is writing. This is basically self-explaintory. Even if I tried, i would have to bring out my 15 unfinished drafts, a yapanese translator and 50 books Ive hadon my TBR since the start of last year 💀💀💀

Thanks for asking! Should we make this a tag game?

@elronthemage @vixxy-izzy @stargazingdustbunny

[howlsofbloodhounds]

I swear you're the only Sane Killer fan i know. actually to only person in this fandom so far that i could even call sane. But anyways. What's your favorite comic/Fic of Killer you've read/seen?

It’s late so I’ll just be naming a few people off the top of my head and Im definitely not gonna remember exact fic names or usernames rn. You’ll notice almost all of em are here on tumblr.

(If anyone tagged is uncomfortable with being tagged I’ll remove it immediately 🙏)

This is because i rarely go on ao3 anymore for killer or color stuff, mostly because there’s barely any killer centric stuff—let alone ones I like. I only go over there if that’s where my tumblr moots or ppl who’s content I like here has posted their stuff.

Literally everything by @signanothername. I adore her art style and her characterization and their storytelling. We seem to interpret a lot of things about killer similarly, and I love their ideas and concepts and understanding of all of the characters she’s writing.

I enjoy @coolingrosa and @byrdblood’s interpretations of the character, very different but both very interesting and detailed. They’re both very good at world building and storytelling.

I enjoy everything @crownedhades and @sarcosticsarcomere have to say about the character, from headcanons to thoughts.

@toffeebrews, @theartsynebulawhodoodles, and @leftarmofl1fe, and @th3-kuk1muki—i enjoy their art/animations/headcanons. kuk1muki’s tiktok gacha vids are very good, can tell time was put into each one. Same with every animation or art piece all the others have posted and spent time on. I especially enjoyed toffee’s interpretation of a more humanized killer as well.

@stellocchia, @zuzuelectricbugaloo, and occasionally when they’ve written killer in the past @twinribbonz, I enjoy their writing. @psych0t1c-bread too. and although it’s been awhile since I’ve seen or read anything from em, @what-have-i-unleashed’s writing is very fun.

@buubonita, I enjoy their posts a lot when they post about killer.

It’s been awhile since I’ve seen a post from this moot, but @wickjump’s posts were always interesting to read whenever they posted about killer.

There was also this one murder time trio centric fic—where they meet up outside of Nightmare’s gang and how that could go—I think was written by one of my old moots and I can’t remember the name of the fic, but the writing was so good.

There’s two other moots I believe posts things more along the lines of bad sanses as family with interpretations I enjoy from time to time, but don’t follow closely, but i can’t remember their users 100% rn 😭.

But you can find some of said moot’s fics in this collection in ao3 if you wanna find some for yourself you may enjoy.

[eddiegettingshot]

re: your (jokey?) tags about being pro captain!eddie alongside the fb moms

i absolutely swear to god, at the end of the zipline scene when the music swells and buck tells eddie "it was all you" my only thought was "oh damn so this means eddie becomes captain and that's why he finally comes back to la and stays" -- because otherwise why put SO much emphasis on the fact that eddie is there and can do what bobby did/does/would??

i am pretty sure that's not what the writers were implying with the scene, but it literally would have made sense (at least as a viable option) and i wouldn't have minded it one bit, on the contrary! instead we got a fucking harebrained mess with ooc characters and zero resolved storylines or emotional beats 😐 wack

besty you are not alone literally everyone thought that was where they were going when they dramatically revealed eddie like 3 times 😭😭 including bcktommies like. im literally saying this would have been better narrative payoff than captain chim *JUST* based off of what they actually did do to build the story. which is to say they genuinely fucked with everyone else’s storylines just to let chim make that speech at the end . kinda crazy. and also terrible because i was really neutral to positive on captain chim and now im genuinely like keep it i don’t want it

[bloopitynoot]

Reading TGCF: Chapter 108

For those who don't know, I am reading TGCF for the first time and sharing my thoughts!

If you have not read it, there will be spoilers! Consider this a warning.

Also- if you want to follow along, I am aiming to post updates daily. You can find all the posts in the tag Bloopitynoot reads TGCF. You can also check out the intro post for context on my read BUT if you followed along with my SVSSS read, the rules and vibe are the same.

I have reached tattoo healing stage where it is crusty as heck and itchy- the wooorst. But at least most of the healing was done through second skin so only a couple more days of discomfort.

Tonight I have an oolong pot while I read.

Let's get into chapter 108!

Jun Wu didn't even tell him what was up with his preceptor. Bro just changed the subject and ran away. "stay away from him for -reasons..." WHAT REASONS? p55

Xie Lian: [bats eyelashes] San Lang, can you get me a small army of living volunteers? p57

The finesse Xie Lian is using to convince those monks he almost murdered via meatball to join the cause is wild p60

This beggar kid with the bad leg better make it out okay, I love their drive and character p65

IT'S THE WIND MASTER!!!!! I am so happy!!! :'3 I thought they were dead!!!!! p66

I don't think my heart can handle how Shi Qingxuan got into this situation, but I am so glad they are here. p72

My heeeaaart!

The plan to trap the vengeful ghosts is absolutely crazy - BUT- the wind master! Well former wind master- She Qingxuan!!!!! I am so glad to see them!

[stale-cornflakes]

Whatever, go my Bremen!! Tag Team animation with the thumbnail by @rockmcslide !

Go check out their own animation here

Characters by @wogot3

Nonsensical ranting under cut

AGHHHH you wanted someone to get you into madcom again? Smiles

FIRST. as Ui gets close to the camera in flight you can see Shi Xuan in the cloning/revival chamber

Vee's timer at the beginning ticks down to the first snowfall at the end of the credits

The part where pol hits ben and half of his body disappeared is a. Because I couldn't figure out how to draw the body. And b. Another nod to the sketchy nature of Mamaboy's animations

Why the heck did Ben snap at Vee???? WELL. IT'S BECAUSE IT'S HIS S3LF. A S3LF that only appears under extreme stress. Survival, fight or flight. Broken down into the base components and gaining animalistic behavior, but still being Ben. On that note his spines raise when he's agitated.

And the brown background? THAT'S THE COLOR OF THE BACKGROUND OF THE COMIC. It's warmer to add a more rustic feel to adhere to the music. And all of the lineart is deliberately chosen to never be purely black.

Vee was actually the hardest one to draw because I had to constantly go back and check which parts of her uniform were colored in

The fight scene was inspired by the episode 3 unethical spite animation goldfish Ui

The very first scene with the S3LFS was made in Krita, but the rest of the animation was made in Adobe

In the scene Polaroid is introduced Vee is more concerned about Ben cocking his gun ready for a fight rather than Polaroid himself. She knows he's not a threat, at least to her. However, he very much is to Ben.

^ piggy backing on top of this, Polaroid's eyes dilate when he sees her!

When Vee and Ben are far away they turn into grunts!

All of the grunts have aspects of their S3LFS (explained here)

Vee with her antenna, Soldat with gills and his signature marlin tail, and even Ben with hair and sharp teeth! The visibility of these characteristics also corresponds with their mental state as well. Such as Soldats instability yet desperately trying to hide his problems. Vee with her massive outbursts of anxiety. Even Ben with his acceptance of disposability.

Sub-optimal camera work 🗣️🗣️

v this is also in the finished product have fun finding it

I might add to this later, formulating thoughts are hard sob

[earthsparked]

WHERE DID YOU ALL COME FROM?! (/INCREDULOUS DISBELIEF AND JOY)

I only made this blog a week ago! I am in awe. What an awesome community this is. I am blown away by how kind, supportive, and encouraging everyone is. You're amazing.

In honor of hitting 100 followers, I'm going to do a reader poll so you can decide on a drabble/imagine/concept etc. I'll write as a thank-you! I've never done this before so I don't know how it'll go, but I'll do my best because I'm really thankful for all of you <3

(If you have any preferences for characters, add it in replies/tags!)

[i-throw-pillows-at-kanade]

Hi there!!

Welcome to the blog where we force everyone's favorite Sopping Wet Cat (tm) to take care of herself :D Kanade seriously needs to go to sleep, so I throw pillows at her to encourage her to do so ♪

Mod uses She/Her; feel free to suggest something for me to go by on this blog, but just "mod" works just fine in the meantime ^ ^

Rules!

I am a simple woman. I see Kanade, I throw pillow (/silly)

Tag me in a post if you have a Kanade that needs pillowing!!

Fanart of Kanade does not get pillowed unless I have the artist's permission. If a post bothers you, lmk and I'll take it down <3

I'm all for the silly, fun vibes here!! send in an ask and I'll gladly respond ^ ^ please do try to keep things lighthearted, though :]

LAST BUT DEFINITELY NOT LEAST!! Kanade is not the only one who needs to take care of herself!! Take proper care of yourself or the pillows will get you <3

Tags!

#it's a bird!! it's a plane!! it's... a pillow!! -> Kanade gets pillowed. mission accomplished >:]

#a swing and a miss -> pjsk related/kanade related, but kanade does not get pillowed 😔

#ponderings of the pillow people -> asks/requests

#sleeptalking -> mod yaps

#sleepover!! -> posts involving other gimmick blogs

Inspired By:

@canaries-kidnap-nene-kusanagi

@giving-pjsk-characters-sweets

@i-punt-penguins-at-haruka

@i-hit-airi-with-meteors

@i-bonk-akito-with-metal-pipes

@kanades-chair-stalks-her

@i-throw-frying-pans-at-mafuyu

@mizukis-bell-tolls

@i-give-mizuki-flowers

@gives-honami-apple-pie

there are lots of other pjsk gimmick blogs that you can check out here!

Thank you for reading this far and for checking out my silly little blog!! I hope at least one of my posts put a smile on your face :] Have a wonderful day/night and make sure to take care of urself bc u deserve it!! <3