#cat's supremacy always

[mangywayway]

🦷 Of your fangs, I have made my home 🦷

.

Hello hello, slowly coming back ✌🏻. Enjoy this completely self-indulgent piece (as literally everything I draw lololol)

(here you can find the Steve's version)

[summershouto]

todays edition features lots of nami because she is endlessly relatable to me and I love her more than anything

[ikomahis]

Nothing is evil in the beginning

/ camera points at a certain ginger boi

UMMM

UUUMMMM

ok i know this is silly and makes no sense but 👀

[alisonstudios99]

art dump

(THE EPIC SONIC POSE if yk, yk)

I imitated alteroreoz's art style to surprise them :D (I won't tag because they've already seen it)

RECENT RECENT the newest Cat Ninja Issue shocked me because I did not think it would go in that direction so I drew happy happy funsie stuff (this wasn't meant to have color... or a background with shading) also hi @tilly-dog-tumbler7070 !!

[fizzytoo]

… adrien has 2 siblings on his dad’s side

[coffin-flop]

i know my cat knows i love him but does he know how much?

[oopsiedaisydeer]

lego flowers ...in which matt and his best friend build some lego

fluff, mutual pining (subtle), best friends to something almost, silly teenagers in love, nerd!matt supremacy, legos and longing, inner child healing via plastic bricks, slow burn, quiet affection, he's building her flowers (that's it that's the tag), matt is down so bad, he hopes she never finds his journal, not quite a love confession

inspired by my dear dear friend @snoopychris's nerd!matt au. my beloved, my first au love, may he forever rest in peace.

word count - 600ish

By the time she gets to Matt’s place, he already has the box open, the bags spread out on the floor in neat piles like he’s been waiting for her. Which—he has.

“You’re late,” he says, barely glancing up from the instruction booklet. Not annoyed. Just... saying it.

She shrugs off her backpack and sits beside him, cross-legged, knees bumping gently. “Sorry. I saw your neighbour’s cat and had to pet him.”

“It’s okay,” he says, chuckling slightly.

He hands her bag two without asking. She always does the even numbers.

The build is a LEGO flower bouquet this time… one of the pretty, intricate ones with tiny petals and layered colors that take longer than you’d think. Wildflowers. They both like those kinds. Calm. Delicate. They feel like something secret and special, just for them.

“I think this one’s my favorite,” she says after a quiet minute, holding up a petal piece in a pale, rosy pink. “It looks like candy.”

Matt glances at it, then at her. “You say that every time.”

“Because they do look like candy.”

He hides a smile behind his hand and keeps building.

They both fall into rhythm. She sorts the pieces, handing them to him carefully. He clicks them together, slowly, gently, like he’s afraid of doing it wrong. Neither of them talk much, but it’s not awkward. It never is. The silence between them is always soft. Safe. Something kind.

“I like this one too,” he says after a while, holding up a stem. “It’s a daisy, I think.”

“Like the ones from your backyard?”

He nods. She remembers.

She smiles a little, then shifts so her shoulder brushes his just barely. He doesn’t pull away.

The room smells like dust and pumpkin from the candle his mom left burning downstairs. The music’s playing low on his speaker—Clairo again, like always—and the LEGO petals are starting to stack up in a little pile between them, soft pinks and yellows and greens.

“You’re better at the tiny parts,” Matt says eventually. “I mess them up.”

“No, you don’t.”

He shrugs, but doesn’t argue. Just lets her take the next one and press it in place, her head bent close to his, her breath soft near his cheek.

When the bouquet is almost finished, she sits back on her hands and looks at it like it’s something alive.

“It’s really pretty.”

“Yeah,” he says quietly, but he’s not looking at the flowers. He’s looking at her.

She blinks up at him. “Hm?”

Matt looks away fast, down at the build. “Nothing. Just, it turned out nice.”

She nods, smiling softly. “It always does when we do it together.”

That makes him freeze for just a second. Like she’s said something heavier than she realises. She doesn’t notice—she’s already unwrapping the last bag, careful not to tear it too much.

Matt watches his best friend, his heart slow and full and aching in a way he hasn’t figured out how to name yet.

He thinks about how this is the third, or maybe the fourth, time she’s come over to build with him this month. No one else really does that. Not like this. Not without needing to fill the space with noise or jokes or something bigger.

Just her. Just this.

She falls asleep not long after… on his floor, curled under one of his old hoodies like a cat in a sunbeam, while he finishes the last little flower and tucks it into the vase without waking her.

He thinks about changing the music. Thinks about how he’s spending almost all his money on new lego sets just to have an excuse to invite her over. Thinks about which one to buy next.

He places the bouquet on his desk, carefully so as not to break them so that she can take them home with her. Lego flowers never die after all.

He hopes she keeps them somewhere she can see.

thank you to rose for the dividers <33 @bernardsbendystraws

a/n: yes very much please yes yes yes! also i can never decide whether to write fics in third or second person like AAAAHHH SDHBFSJ

taglist: @sturnslutz @snoopychris @sturns-mermaid @shortnsweetsturnz  @cowboylikenat @camzeecorner @courta13 @sweetshuga @st7rnioioss @throatgoat4u @shadowthesim237 @emely9274 @sturnberries @bluestriips @lovergirl4gracieabrams @chrisslut04 @tezzzzzzzz @strnilolover @vanteguccir @chrislova @riasturns @sturnsblogs @darksturnz @httpssturns @mi-co-uk @ribbonlovergirl @lovesturni0l0s @grace-sturnz

till next time!!!! much love and take care

[blueberrybirdsworld]

Collision 4/20

Summary:

Lando always had a type : blonde, models, not ready to settle down. Yet once he met her, all his world is changed and he slowly start to realises maybe he was wrong all this time.

It's a prequel story of The Cat Distribution System, on how Lando Norris fall in love with Ariana. Could be read seperatly.

Pairing : lando norris x original female character

Genre : SMAU, Fluff, slow burn, enventual smut and angst

Warning : none

CHAPTER 4 : SMAU

Serie Masterlist

@landonorris

Life lately: city nights, soft lights, slow things 🎼

@pietra you forgot “dragged to the ballet and actually kinda loved it” 😌🩰

@maxfewtrell he's lying. man was into act II don't let him pretend otherwise

@carlossainz55 slow things? who is this poetic new version of you

@formula1fashion slide 4… tux?? okay classy king

@curiouscatfan is that a program for The Nutcracker? 👀

@slowcircuits love this whole soft mood. winter season lando is ✨

@arianariverria

Opening night in Royal Opera still lingers in my limbs. Thank you to the ones who made it feel like gold 🩰🤍

@ballerinasoflondon You were luminous on stage

@velvetdanse this is what grace looks like

@stagequietly saw you last night — truly breathtaking 🩰

@quietballetgirl this bouquet is straight out of a novel. you’re magic.

@balletfansunited whoever gave you those flowers has taste 😍

Instagram Story – @pietra

@f1casuals not pietra casually giving us ballet night with the lads content 😭 I love it here

@ballerinasonthegrid wait was doing Lando and Max at The Nutcracker??

@fashionf1blog tbh obsessed with this whole aesthetic

@quietobserver32 Lando looked like the adoptive son of Max and Pietra

@f1winterwatch #LandoNorris seen by fans at the Royal Opera House in London for opening night of The Nutcracker during winter break. Dressed in full tux and accompanied by close friend Max Fewtrell and Pietra Pilao, the McLaren driver was photographed looking very out of his usual element.

Fans were quick to clock the ballet program in hand — and even quicker to spiral. Sources say he stayed through the full performance and went to the after show gala, according to Max’s own comments he was “weirdly into Act II.” 👀.

@f1girlie lando norris watching ballet in a tux… literally what dimension is this

@chaoticgrid so we all agree this is Pietra’s doing right??

@curiouspitlane "weirdly into Act II" IS THE FUNNIEST THING I’VE EVER READ

@formulafits not me falling in love with winter opera lando. he’s just like a victorian novel character now

@gridgossipgirl he’s not suddenly into ballet y’all 😂 he prob just got roped in by max and pietra

@f1curiosity don’t forget it was donors night at the Royal Opera… PR move?? 👀

@midfielddreams let’s be real: this is 100% media team damage control for the party boy Lando headlines

@offtrackantics tbh i wouldn’t be shocked if McLaren told him to show face and act classy for once lol

@slowburnsundays he looked good. that’s all i’m taking from this. tux Lando supremacy

@gridoverdramatic we’ve gone from ibiza yachts to ballet in a month 😭 PR team is working overtime

@f1goat not buying the “soft boy era” spin yet. we’ve seen the club videos. we remember.

@quietlyofftrack maybe he was just trying to support pietra. like. sometimes guys do wholesome things to balance the chaos

@fansofthegrid i know everyone’s like “image change!!!” but honestly?? maybe he just likes dressing up and sitting down for 2 hours

Texts messages :

Unknown Number hi so, this might be weird unless it’s not? I don’t know

Ariana Who is this?

Unknown Number right, yeah sorry it’s Lando from the other night I get your number trough the dancers contact list I hope it's okay, I swear I’m not weird

Ariana …Norris?

Lando yes, that one Formula One guy bad-at-tuxedos guy

Ariana I remember You weren’t that bad at tuxedos

Lando 😅 thanks I practiced standing still in a mirror beforehand

Ariana Impressive. So, what’s this text about?

Lando right, yeah ok so this isn’t like a thing like it’s not a date not that I wouldn’t, I mean it could be not that it has to be I just thought—

Ariana Breathe.

Lando okay resetting hi again

Ariana Hello again.

Lando I wanted to see if you might want to come to this gathering thing, not like a wild party or anything just friends, pizza, blankets, probably candles Pietra said something about fairy lights and “safe vibes”

Ariana That’s… quite the pitch

Lando I panicked halfway through and committed to the bit

Ariana I could tell So you’re inviting me to a not-a-party?

Lando yes, very chill Max is hosting and Pietra’s coming no pressure at all, if you hate it you can pretend you weren’t even there

Ariana Are you always this nervous when texting?

Lando only when the person I’m texting is kind of intimidating and elegant and casually tore my ego in half at a club once

Ariana Fair And do you usually invite said people to pizza nights?

Lando no, this is a new thing trying something different slower quieter less… tequila and regrettable decisions

Ariana I appreciate that Maybe

Lando maybe yes or maybe “I’ll disappear for three months and never answer again”?

Ariana Maybe yes if I’m not busy and if the playlist isn’t terrible

Lando Max made the playlist so yes it’s terrible but we can change it if you come

Ariana Tempting

Lando pls come I already told Pietra I invited you and she’s going to mock me forever if you don’t

Ariana Send the address I’ll think about it

Lando [📍Shared Location] okay sent thank you for being gentle with how awkward I am I swear I’m cooler in person actually no, that’s probably a lie

Ariana It’s fine I don’t like cool people anyway

Lando 😳 I’ll take that as a win

Taglist : @angelluv16, @httpsxnox, @anunstablefangirl, @chocolatemagazinecupcake, @mayax2o07, @freyathehuntress, @verogonewild, @esw1012

Let me know if you wanted to be added to the taglist !

[gottencents]

☾. LOVE HANGOVER - JENNIE | main masterlist

“ I ᴀɪɴ'ᴛ ɢᴏɴɴᴀ ʟᴇᴀᴠᴇ' ᴛɪʟ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴛᴇ ᴍᴇ “

katseye!oc x jennie kim

tatum background. Tatum Aeris Lilia Blackwood (born February 14, 2001), professionally known as Tatum, is a French-Korean prodigy renowned for her work as a dancer, singer-songwriter, rapper, model, and global ambassador. Tatum began her career at the age of 16 as an independent singer. In 2022, she joined BLACKPINK's Born Pink Tour as a background dancer, but had to leave early to participate in the survival show. She rose to fame through her appearance on HYBE and Universal Music's survival program The Debut: Dream Academy. After securing first place in the competition, she debuted as a member of the global girl group KATSEYE, which officially launched on June 28, 2024, under HYBE Labels and Geffen Records with their digital single, Debut.

featuring. katseye, blackpink, karina ( aespa as tatum fc ) giselle ( aespa ) vinnie hacker ( as lancey fc ) mark ( nct, as kazuya fc ) kazuha ( lesserafim, as tiffany fc ) tyla ( as jules fc ) + cameos

tags. smau , fluff, friendly bullying , age gap , kms/kys jokes , explicit jokes/language , horny tweets , suggestive themes , sexual jokes , wlw , times of tweets don’t matter at all , not an accurate portrayal of the people referenced in this 

KATSEYE!OC & JENNIE

Caught fur-handed | where tatum is streaming on twitch & doesn’t notice that kuma is in the background of her facecam causing fans to notice & start to speculate

seoul city | after getting stranded in Korea, Tatum gets rescued by her frustrated girlfriend Jennie, leading to a heated scolding

kiwi | Jennie impulsively adopts a kitten, Kiwi, for herself and Tatum, only for them to realize they have absolutely no idea how to raise a cat—leading to a chaotic but adorable journey into pet parenthood.

4 your eyez only | After falling asleep mid-Weverse Live, Tatum unintentionally exposes that they’ve been at Jennie’s house the whole time, sending fans into a frenzy

blow | Tatum and Jennie share an intense and passionate night, where Jennie’s playful demand for more kisses leads to a slow-burning

taste | During a casual makeup session, Jennie can’t resist the growing tension between her and Tatum, leading to an intense and passionate make-out session that deepens their connection.

damn right | During a Calvin Klein photoshoot, Jennie volunteers to leave kiss marks on Tatum, and when fans later realize there are exactly nine marks

waves | After a late-night drinking game forces Tatum to choose between KATSEYE and Jennie

let me love you | Jennie constantly spoils Tatum, showering her with affection and thoughtful gestures, treating her like the princess she believes she is.

lollipop | Jennie has a possessive habit of leaving love bites all over Tatum’s body, making sure she always remembers who she belongs to.

s&m | After a night of teasing on the dance floor, Jennie and Tatum’s flirtation escalates into a heated, magnetic encounter that leaves the entire club forgotten.

ADD ONS

popbase being messy & in tatum business (1)

what are tatum fanaccounts saying ?

tatum being unaware during popstar academy

tatum best weverse live moments

tatum in taste ?

PRIV TWEETS

predebut tatum tweets

tatum priv tweets (1)

tatum priv tweets (2)

INSTA UPDATES

Insta updates (1)

TATUM SUPREMACY

eyekons believing in tatjen more than another comeback

taglist [OPEN] : @multiliker @goofymickeyr @yuyuy90 @hydrardz @wtfisthisnoclueman @reiiaokii @somedaydream @yjiminswallet @inejghafawifesblog @jaythegirlkisser @xochitlisbest @1800hotnfunn @awkwardtoafault @linnnsworld @the-eaglebearer

[wvyik]

paws and promises ᝰ ‧₊ ᵎᵎ

sam winchester x fem! reader

ꕤ summary: a rainstorm brings an unexpected guest into your life, but it’s the way sam cares for her that makes you fall even harder for him.

♯ warnings: extreme fluff, cat dad sam supremacy, nurturing! reader, kitten cuddles, pre established relationship, bunker life but make it dreamy, you’re in love and it’s soo obvious, peach the cat is the third main character actually, don’t read while ovulating.

♯ notes: hi my lil lovebugs… did u miss me?? because I’ve been GONE for like 10 whole days (insane) and yes it was because of stardew valley. but i’m back now with fluffy sam content to heal us all. love u. missed u. pls enjoy sam being the softest cat dad alive.

The rain had been coming down in sheets by the time he got back. Loud, unrelenting, like the sky was trying to wash the world clean. You’d been curled up on the couch in your favorite sweater, blanket pulled over your knees, the bunker feeling oddly hollow without Sam there.

He was only supposed to run out for a quick supply run, but of course, things never stayed simple for long when you were a Winchester. Still, you didn’t expect to see him burst through the door, dripping wet, carrying the grocery bags in one arm and something small, shivering, and wrapped in his flannel in the other.

You blinked, confused for a second; until the flannel moved and you heard the softest mew you’d ever heard in your life, “She was in the middle of the road,” he said, like it explained everything. And maybe it did. Because Sam couldn’t not care.

He couldn’t look at something tiny and helpless and keep walking. That’s just who he was— someone whose heart broke open for things that needed gentleness. “I didn’t even think about it. I just… I couldn’t leave her.”

And that was it. She was in your home. In your lives. In your hearts within minutes. You named her Peach, because of how fuzzy and small and soft she was. She took to Sam immediately, climbing his sweatshirt, curling into his chest like she knew exactly who had saved her.

But she didn’t avoid you— she liked curling up in your lap when you were journaling or napping with her cheek pressed to your neck when Sam carried both of you to bed. She had a favorite nap spot on top of the laundry you always forgot to fold. She started kneading on Sam’s pillow. And she had this tiny little purr that only started when you were all three together, like she knew she belonged.

Sam turned into a full-on cat dad overnight, without even realizing it. You’d wake up some mornings to find him lying flat on his stomach, using his phone light to peer under the couch because she’d chased a toy under there and refused to move. He talked to her constantly. Sometimes when he thought you were asleep, you’d hear him whispering to her in that low, careful voice, telling her stories or just… rambling softly like she was a baby in his arms.

You caught him once reading from an old lore book, letting her fall asleep on his chest while his fingers absently traced little circles behind her ears. You didn’t say anything, you just stood in the doorway, watching, your heart feeling like it could hardly hold all the love inside it.

It made you fall for him all over again, seeing that side of him. Not the hunter. Not the protector. But the caretaker. The nurturer. The boy who had once been expected to carry the world and still managed to find space for something so small. You’d be doing dishes, and he’d wander up behind you with Peach perched on his shoulder, her tiny paws settled like she was born to live there.

You’d be mid-book and he’d gently place her in your lap like a warm little offering, her purring a rhythm against your thighs. He bought her toys, a miniature bed, even little bow collars; one in soft pink that matched your favorite mug. When she scratched him once while playing, he didn’t even flinch. Just looked down at the mark and said, “She’s got your spirit,” with a soft smile.

Nights became your favorite. After lights-out, Peach would usually find her way to the foot of the bed, curling herself into the warm pocket between you two. Sam would always pull you closer, arm slipping around your waist, lips brushing the shell of your ear with a soft, “Goodnight, baby,” before everything went quiet. You’d lie there, cocooned in warmth, one of his hands resting against your back and the faint sound of Peach’s purring in the dark. And sometimes, when sleep didn’t come fast enough, you’d whisper to him about how lucky you felt. About how it felt like having a family. Even if it was just the three of you.

He’d kiss the tip of your nose and say, “It is a family,” without hesitation. And that would be enough to make your eyes sting a little.

You’d never thought a stray kitten in the rain could change so much. But now, every morning felt a little lighter. Every evening felt a little softer. You had your person. You had your home. And somehow, against all odds, you had this tiny heartbeat that reminded you to slow down, breathe deeper, and love harder.

And when you caught Sam on the floor one afternoon, curled up with Peach nestled in the crook of his arm, both of them fast asleep in a patch of sunlight, you swore you could actually feel your heart stretch with how much you loved them.

You hadn’t meant to fall asleep there too. The plan was to just sit with them a little, maybe rest your eyes while the kettle boiled. But when you saw them on the floor, both of them breathing slow, wrapped in each other like they’d always belonged— you couldn’t help yourself. You laid down behind him, one hand on his back, cheek resting between his shoulder blades. And then… everything just drifted.

When you woke up, the sun had dipped lower, throwing soft gold light across the floor. The room smelled faintly like the herbal tea you never finished and the warmth of clean laundry. Sam stirred first, shifting just enough that Peach flopped gently off his bicep and into the blanket beside her like a princess tossed from her throne. She made a soft noise of protest, then curled right back into his chest like nothing ever happened. He smiled when he felt you move behind him.

“Hey,” he murmured, his voice thick with sleep, breath brushing your jaw. “Did we nap through the whole afternoon?”

“Almost,” you whispered, nuzzling against his shirt. “It was nice.”

“Peach snores,” he said quietly, like it was a secret only the two of you should know.

You giggled, fingers brushing over the edge of his hoodie sleeve. “You do too sometimes.”

He groaned softly, burying his face into your arm. “Don’t expose me like that.”

You reached up, tucking a piece of hair behind his ear. “It’s cute. Everything you do is cute.”

“Yeah?” he said, lifting his head, eyes heavy and soft. “That’s dangerous information to give me.”

You smiled shyly, tucking your face into his shoulder again, feeling that warm flutter in your chest that only he ever managed to stir. You always felt like this with Sam— safe. Held. Like the world outside could be falling apart and it wouldn’t matter, because in here it was always quiet and warm and yours.

Peach chose that moment to stretch across both of your legs, her little paws flexing in her sleep like she was dreaming of chasing something. Sam watched her for a second, then looked at you with that look. The one where his eyes get soft at the edges and his lips part like he wants to say something, but he’s scared it’ll make him feel too much all at once. You knew that look by heart.

“You think she knows?” he asked quietly.

“Knows what?”

“That she owns us.”

You blinked, then smiled so softly it barely made it to your lips. “Yeah. I think she knew from the minute you picked her up.”

He didn’t answer right away. He just leaned in, brushing his nose against your cheek, thumb stroking across the back of your hand where it was tucked into his. You felt him breathe in, like he was holding something sacred inside his chest. And maybe he was.

“I like it like this,” you said eventually, voice barely a whisper. “You. Me. Her. It feels like… a little life. Not a big one. Just a soft, slow, quiet one.”

Sam closed his eyes and pulled you even closer, Peach still snoozing peacefully at your legs. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted,” he said. “Just… this. Something that doesn’t hurt. Something warm.”

You didn’t need to say anything. You just pressed your forehead to his and let yourself sink into the moment. The golden light. The hush of the room. The sound of Peach’s tiny breathing and Sam’s thumb tracing your knuckles. And for the first time in what felt like forever, you weren’t thinking about what came next. There was no monster to fight, no crisis to solve. Just a boy, a girl, and a kitten who made everything softer.

And God, if that wasn’t enough to make you believe in a little bit of magic.

taglist; @lieutenantchaos @bejeweledinterludes @ambiguous-avery @mostlymarvelgirl @freeluigihesbae @brutuuallove @impala67rollingthroughtown @multiversefanfics @littlesoulshine @starzify @ladykitana90 @idontwannabehere78 @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing @pieandflannel @tendertulip @tinas111 @everythingisaspectrum @pennywatsonlafayette @lunaleah @amsliajskxkxkx @anxiety-prime-max @plasticflowersinahistorycemetery @kimxwinchester ⊹ ࣪ ˖

⤿ wanna be tagged in my fics?.. don't be shy! @ taglist.

tysm for reading! more works incoming @ library.

[kathlare]

brunette fever

Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman

Summary: After a hectic day on set, Amelie rushes home to Lando, leading to an evening filled with playful teasing, heartfelt moments, and cozy domestic chaos.

Wordcount: 2.6 k

Warnings: just fluff

request over here!

April 23rd, 2025 - Los Angeles, CA

liked by sydnmeliefan, euphoriaiconz, and others

euphoriatvupdates: Sydney Sweeney and Amelie Dayman were spotted filming scenes for Euphoria Season 3 today!

View all 57,912 comments

lanmeliebrainrot: WAIT AMELIE'S BRUNETTE AGAIN??? GOD IS REAL. 🙌🏽 → bratzfan2000: @lanmeliebrainrot her power is unmatched rn 😭 maddy is BACK.

maddyfan_irl: not to be dramatic but i would die for brunette Amelie. 💔 → paddockbabe: @maddyfan_irl babe same. she’s mother now, always has been.

sydnmeliefan: the SERVE that’s coming... we are NOT ready. → snlmelie: @sydnmeliefan syd + ames in the same episode is gonna end careers 🔥

ameliedaydreams: MOTHER IS BACK. MOTHER IS ACTING. MOTHER IS SLAYING. 📣📣📣

melie_wicked: two years break and she just pops back into euphoria like she owns HBO 😭 LEGEND. → landonrizz: @melie_wicked she took a lil tour, slayed music, slayed love, and now back to slay us. 🫡

lanmelieedits: guys be serious it’s 10000% a wig she’s not giving up blonde after fighting for it 😭 → foryouamelie: @lanmelieedits she’s dedicated to the role bestie let’s not underestimate Maddy Perez 😌

euphoriaiconz: amelie being brunette again is my roman empire. → amezslays: @euphoriaaiconz DAILY. HOURLY. EVERY 30 MINUTES.

vroomvroomqueen: amelie filming AND looking like a brunette goddess?? lando stay strong bro. 🧎🏻‍♀️

maddysrings: AMELIE IS BRUNETTE AGAIN EVERYONE STAY CALM 🚨🚨🚨 → euphoriacore: @maddysrings i'm NOT calm i’m LOSING ITTTT 😭

lanmelieobsessed: THE HAIR. THE ATTITUDE. MADDY PEREZ IS BACKKK 🔥🔥🔥 → vivalanmelie: @lanmelieobsessed maddy season 3 supremacy incominggg

f1xdrama: how’s lando breathing rn bc IM NOT 💀

euphoriawh0re: the SASS she’s gonna bring this szn is gonna be ILLEGAL → sugargirllano: @euphoriawh0re she’s about to make maddy the MAIN CHARACTER again idgaf 😭

-------------

Amelie hurried through the front door of her Los Angeles house, Benny cradled in one arm, the other struggling to push the door closed behind her. She still had her brunette wig on — a silky, dark chestnut that clung to her face, remnants of Euphoria’s filming hours earlier. Her cheeks were flushed, not from the California heat, but from the rush of making it home in time. She promised Lando they’d have dinner tonight, and after the crazy-ass week they both had, she wasn’t about to let him down.

She toed off her uggs clumsily, giggling softly as Benny batted at her shoelaces like the clingy little menace he was, before padding through the house toward the familiar sound of her boyfriend’s intense concentration.

Through the cracked door of the sim room, Amelie spotted him immediately — headset on, hyper-focused, hands flying across the steering wheel. His hair was a mess of caramel curls, his shoulders relaxed but sharp with focus. Fuck, she thought, heart squeezing a little. How was he always so fucking cute even when he was doing the most nerdy shit?

—Lan, baby, dinner time— she called out softly, voice sing-song as she shifted Benny onto her hip. The cat grumbled but stayed, nuzzling into her neck.

No response.

She smirked, rolling her eyes.

—Landooo— she said again, a bit louder. —If you make me starve to death in my own house, I’m haunting your ass.—

Still nothing.

Amelie huffed, stepping fully into the room now, Benny’s tail flicking against her arm.

—LAN.—

Lando finally turned around mid-race, pulling his headset off... and froze. Completely froze.

His eyes widened the second he saw her — really saw her — standing there with her brunette hair falling messily around her face, Benny cradled in her arms like some needy little teddy bear. Lando's mouth opened slightly, like he was trying to form a sentence but his brain just... short-circuited.

—Fuck me,— he breathed, voice low, almost reverent.

Amelie tilted her head, a mischievous smile curling at the corner of her lips. —That was not the response I was expecting.—

Lando still didn’t move, like he was looking at a ghost. Or a memory. His chest rose and fell faster, hands slipping off the wheel as he spun in his chair to fully face her.

—You...— he started, voice cracking, —you look like... fuck, Ames.—

Amelie giggled, walking over, Benny still clinging to her like a clingy little koala. —You’re acting like you’ve never seen me before.—

—Not like that,— Lando muttered, his eyes raking over her, drinking in the brunette strands, the way they framed her face, softer, familiar in a way that dug straight into his ribs and cracked them open.

Because that's how she looked when he first met her. Back in 2020, when he was just a wide-eyed idiot with a stupid massive crush, playing video games with her until stupid o'clock just to hear her laugh. When they used to sneak around, clumsy kisses and desperate touches, her dark hair spilled over his pillows.

The ache was instant.

Lando stood up so fast his chair rolled back and hit the wall with a thunk. Benny let out a startled meow and bolted out of Amelie's arms, but she barely had time to register it because Lando was on her.

His hands cupped her jaw, almost unsure for half a second, like he needed permission... and then he kissed her.

Hard.

The kind of kiss that dragged a soft gasp out of her, that stole her breath and curled her toes against the hardwood floor.

Amelie laughed against his mouth, trying to push him gently away, but he just growled and kissed down her jaw, her neck, fingers tangling in the back of her wig like he couldn’t help himself.

—Lan, baby, the food,— she mumbled, half-heartedly.

He just hummed, pressing his forehead against hers. —Fuck the food.—

She laughed, tipping her head back so he could mouth at her throat. —You’re such a whore when I’m brunette.—

—You’re a fucking weapon when you’re brunette,— he groaned. His accent got heavier when he was flustered, words warm against her skin. —You’ve got no idea what you’re doing to me, Ames. No fucking idea.—

Amelie grinned, but eventually managed to plant both hands firmly on his chest and shove him back a step. He whined. Actually whined.

—You,— she said, poking his forehead, —are gonna start dinner. Right now. Because if you keep doing that, we’re never gonna eat and I am fucking starving.—

Lando pouted dramatically. —But you look like that.—

—And I’m about to look like a corpse if you don’t feed me.—

He threw his head back with a groan but finally, finally, dragged himself toward the kitchen, muttering under his breath about how she was "mean as hell" and "unfair" and "completely bloody gorgeous".

Amelie snickered to herself and padded down the hall toward the bedroom. She peeled the wig off carefully once she reached the bathroom, tossing it onto the counter with a relieved sigh. Immediately, her real hair — her bright, messy blonde — flopped out, and she ran her fingers through it, giving her scalp a grateful little scratch.

—God, that’s better,— she muttered, tying it up into a quick messy bun before stepping into the shower.

It was a quick rinse — she didn’t want to leave Lando alone too long or he might burn the house down — and when she came out, she tugged on one of his old hoodies (so fucking big it swallowed her) and a pair of tiny shorts before wandering barefoot back into the kitchen.

Lando was at the stove, brow furrowed in intense concentration as he flipped something in a pan. Benny was weaving around his ankles, meowing like he hadn’t eaten in years even though Amelie knew he had been fed.

She leaned against the doorframe, smiling softly at the sight.

—You look like a househusband,— she teased.

Without turning around, he said —You look like the hottest fever dream I've ever had.—

Amelie laughed, walking over and wrapping her arms around his waist from behind, resting her cheek against his back. He relaxed immediately into her, like muscle memory.

—Blonde again, huh?— he teased, glancing at her over his shoulder.

She smirked. —Don’t sound so disappointed.—

He turned slightly so he could kiss the top of her head. —Never disappointed, baby. Just...— He trailed off, smirking. —You have no idea what brunette-you does to me. Dangerous. I nearly fucking proposed right there on the sim rig.—

Amelie snorted, giving his ass a playful squeeze that made him jump.

—You’re such a little simp,— she said fondly.

Lando flipped the food again and gave her a wicked grin. —Only for you, Ames. Always have been.—

Her heart did a stupid little flip in her chest. Fucking hell, how did he still make her feel like she was sixteen and falling for him for the first time?

She stretched up onto her toes to kiss his cheek. —Lucky me.—

He bumped her nose with his playfully. —Luckiest bastard alive, actually.—

And as the kitchen filled with the smell of whatever half-burnt thing he was attempting to cook, and Benny pawed at her leg demanding attention, and Lando kept sneaking little kisses every time he passed her a plate, Amelie couldn’t help but think that yeah — maybe they were both pretty fucking lucky after all.

-------------

jadenhossler replied to your story

jadenhossler: screaming crying throwing up rn ameliedayman: ur so dramatic for WHAT jadenhossler: i miss brunette u like crazy even tho it’s fake 💔 ameliedayman: love u 4 that.

maxfewtrell replied to your story

maxfewtrell: no way you switched up on us brunette girl era again?? ameliedayman: for today only 🤓 maxfewtrell: thank god, blondie supremacy forever 🙏🏼 ameliedayman: rude

chandlerkinney replied to your story

chandlerkinney: MY BRUNETTE WIFE IS BACK 🥹 ameliedayman: she's fake tho 💔 chandlerkinney: idc i’m printing out the pic and framing it ameliedayman: i support women’s rights and wrongs. thank u.

victoriadayman replied to your story

victoriadayman: WHAT HAVE YOU DONE 😭😭😭 victoriadayman: amelie. you know i HATED when you went dark. you looked like a STRANGER. victoriadayman: you had such a beautiful light aura!! ameliedayman: MOM RELAX IT’S A WIG 😭😭 victoriadayman: you almost made me cry lmaooo

callumdayman replied to your story

callumdayman: emo core. ameliedayman: 😂😂 you WISH you had this range. callumdayman: send a pic to abuela see what she says lmao

joshrichards replied to your story

joshrichards: ok wait brunette ams is lowkey a different person 👀 ameliedayman: alter ego unlocked. joshrichards: tell her i said what’s up 😏 ameliedayman: BLOCKED

-------------

The plates clinked softly as Lando set the last one down on the kitchen island, flashing a proud little smirk even though most of the credit for not burning the food belonged to Amelie.

—Dinner is served, m’lady,— he said in an exaggerated British accent, pulling her stool out like a proper gentleman.

Amelie giggled, flopping down dramatically onto the seat. —Thank you, my good sir. Your services are appreciated.—

Benny immediately tried to climb onto her lap, his nose twitching at the scent of food. Björn, meanwhile, was perched on the counter, glaring down like an unimpressed little gargoyle, tail flicking dangerously close to Lando’s plate.

—Björn, I swear to God, if you touch my chicken,— Lando warned, pointing a fork at the grey menace.

Björn blinked slowly, clearly plotting how to ruin Lando’s life.

Amelie just laughed, scratching under Benny’s chin as she leaned over to steal a bite off Lando’s plate. —You know he doesn’t listen to threats. He only respects violence.—

—Remind me to sleep with one eye open tonight.—

Amelie grinned, popping the stolen bite into her mouth. —Good idea. He’ll probably sit on your face again if you’re not careful.—

Lando groaned, glaring at Björn who was now grooming himself like he hadn't just tried to plot a full-blown heist on the chicken. —Why does he hate me so much? I feed him. I pet him.—

—He senses weakness,— Amelie teased, smirking as she forked some veggies onto her own plate. —Benny loves you though.— She glanced down where Benny was curled up on her lap, his head resting on Lando’s thigh, purring like a motor.

Lando gave Benny a fond scratch behind the ears, his expression softening immediately. —Benny’s my boy. At least someone in this house respects me.—

—Excuse me?— Amelie arched an eyebrow.

Lando grinned, leaning over to nudge her shoulder. —You respect me too, sunshine. In certain situations.—

Amelie rolled her eyes, cheeks heating slightly. —You’re unbelievable.—

—You love me,— he shot back instantly, grinning like the cocky little shit he was.

And goddamn it, she did. More than she ever thought possible.

The conversation drifted from there—light, easy. They talked about stupid TikTok trends, the ridiculous amount of traffic in LA, how Max had texted Lando a meme of a clown after his last sim race. Nothing important. Nothing serious.

Just… them.

Lando was mid-story about how one of his engineers accidentally spilled an entire coffee on Zak’s shoes last week when Amelie suddenly zoned out a little, her fork paused halfway to her mouth.

It wasn’t the story. She’d heard plenty of those.

It was him. The way he sat across from her, relaxed, hoodie sleeves pushed up, talking with his hands like he always did when he was animated. His curls still slightly damp from his shower, cheeks flushed from the heat in the kitchen.

It was the smell of dinner they’d cooked together. The sound of Benny’s soft purrs and Björn’s occasional irritated meow. The faint hum of the dishwasher running in the background.

It was… domestic.

So fucking domestic.

And something about that hit her like a truck.

Because this — this stupid, simple, quiet moment — felt so right. So normal in the middle of the absolute circus that was their lives.

She could get used to this.

Fuck, she wanted to get used to this.

To come home after a long day of filming and know he’d be here. To bicker over who burned the pasta. To fall asleep with Benny on her feet and Lando’s arm around her waist. To wake up to his sleepy face buried in her neck.

Her chest tightened, a weird mix of warmth and terror flooding her veins.

She hadn’t said any of it out loud. She wasn’t even sure she was ready to admit it to herself fully.

But she felt it.

He was her home.

Even when they were a mess, even when they were miles apart, even when the world felt like it was spinning too fast — he was the constant. The anchor.

Her eyes flickered back to him. He was still talking, completely oblivious to her internal monologue, making some dramatic gesture with his fork.

And she smiled. Soft. Private.

God, she was so fucked.

—Ames?— Lando’s voice snapped her back, his brows furrowing as he looked at her. —You zoned out. You good?—

She blinked, realizing she’d been staring like a lovesick idiot. —Huh? Oh. Yeah. Sorry.—

He grinned, leaning back in his chair. —Thinking about how hot I looked in the sim rig earlier?—

She snorted. —Yeah, sure. That was it.—

He laughed, reaching across the counter to steal a piece of broccoli off her plate, popping it into his mouth with a triumphant smirk.

She just watched him for a moment longer, her heart doing that stupid fluttery thing again.

Maybe she didn’t have to have it all figured out right now. Maybe it was okay to just… feel it.

Let it simmer.

Let it grow.

She’d talk to him eventually. About the future. About what she wanted. About what they wanted.

But tonight?

Tonight she just wanted to sit here, eat half-burnt chicken, and bask in the quiet, stupid, perfect normalcy of it all.

She reached across the table and grabbed his hand, lacing their fingers together without saying a word.

Lando blinked down at their hands, then looked up at her, an eyebrow raised in question.

She just smiled.

—What?— he asked, a soft grin tugging at his lips.

Amelie shrugged, squeezing his hand gently. —Nothing. Just… like you.—

His grin widened, eyes softening in that way that always made her insides melt.

—Yeah?— he asked, voice teasing but his thumb stroked over her knuckles like he already knew.

—Yeah,— she whispered back.

And for once, the silence between them didn’t feel like something that needed filling.

It just… was.

And it was enough.

[cringe--is--dead]

Nekoma Manager Headcanons

To start: talk about chaos.

I imagine the manager!reader as a 2nd year, as stated in my first one shot.

You look up to the third years, though the way you and Kuroo act you'd never admit it to his face.

Once you grow comfortable with the team, and vice versa, the two of you bicker like siblings.

Kai is who you gravitate to the most, he's so calm and quiet, you two grew closer faster because of this.

Yaku and Kuroo were both lowkey jealous; they both work on being doting upperclassmen in their own ways and now their manager is anxious around them? Heartbroken.

The first years think you hung the stars.

Lev is always trying to impress you with his moves, which more than often results in him missing a spike or getting hit in the face with what was supposed to be a receive.

Most of his failed attempts end with Yaku scolding him and you are torn between allowing him to shape his team and stepping in to play peacemaker.

Shibayama is the first team member to confide in you regarding any anxiety they had while playing; he compares himself to Yaku so much that it broke your heart, you two talked and you made him see he had made the team for a reason, and he left feeling much better.

Teshiro is more awkward or shy when approaching you, he may have been a first-year when you met him, but he knew the team hadn't had a manager in a long time. He was worried they might scare you off, specifically one of the... second years... But you stuck around! He liked to be around you, even if neither of you talked all the time, your presence was enjoyable. He also tended to be one of the only members (he and Kai) that didn't get scolded or yelled at.

Inuoka reminds you of a puppy, regardless of being on the team of "cats". He was actually the first member of the team to fully approach you, more than a simple introduction. He was so excited that you were their manager, it definitely helped you feel a lot more comfortable. Did you process everything he said to you? No. Was it endearing as hell? Yes.

If Kenma isn't sitting with Kuroo on bus rides he's sitting with you, you enjoy watching him playing his games, that or he enjoys the peace whenever you nap on the bus. Once he even let you play a game on his switch. Once.

Yamamoto is really excited to show you off at any and all practice matches they have. You're so supportive of them all that it makes him really emotional, and you've learned to just pat his head and walk away. You once showed up to an away game with your nails painted in your team colors and you watched that man genuinely weep.

Fukanaga loves to make you laugh whenever the team's quiet or having a more serious meeting. He learned your humor so fast it's dangerous. You can never be upset around him, he reads you like an open book, and whatever worry follows you around is quickly destroyed by him and his shining personality.

Like I said; you and Kuroo have a sibling like relationship once you're comfortable with the team. He leans his arm against your head like a headrest, you make fun of his attempts of sounding cool. The team finds it hilarious, and other than Yaku and Kenma, you're one of the few people he's terrified to piss off.

Kai is the upperclassman you look up to the most, he's calm and collected, smart and nice. He's everything you strive to be as a student and an upperclassman. He helps you study, he helped you learn about volleyball and all the info that comes with that when you first joined, he made sure to include you in any and all group hangouts when you were new.

Kai supremacy.

Yaku and you have, not to sound like I'm stuck in the 2020 fandom, but "parenting" personalities together. Yaku yells at Lev, you follow behind by telling Lev you two care about him and just want to see him get better! Yaku may worry when a teammate gets minorly injured, but you fret, despite knowing minor injuries occur in this sport. The time where you're on the same page exactly is whenever you take the opportunity to bully Kuroo.

He hates it.

I have to say: years ago when I first got into Haikyuu I made an OC for it, and she was Nekoma's manager. This entire thing is self-indulgent. If I was any good at art I'd have so many comic series with her. Sad.

Also I just saw the movie so I am hyperfocused on my boys.

[3d-wifey]

PLEASE PLEASE I NEED A READER WHO'S JUST AS MUCH OF A FERAL FREAK AS LOGAN JUST IDC WHAT HER MUTATION IS, JUST MAKE IT ANIMALISTIC SO THEY CAN HAVE FREAK NASTY SMUT

Back to the Kitty (Cus She's Kinda Pretty)

Pairing: Logan James "The Wolverine" Howlett x Lynx!reader

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: smut heehee, uh munch logan supremacy, hybrid au (?), NSFW, NSFT

A/N: This has been my man since 2000 and I was only born in 2004, I'm so happy he's fucking FINALLY GETTING LOVE GOD DAMN. Reader is implied to be black but you can still read it if you aren't, as always. Also, it's been shown in canon again and again that Logan is weak to the whims of a pretty woman, especially early Logan, so dont give me no goddamn lip about this being unrealistic.

Tags: @yvy1s @innercreationflower

Logan stares at the wooden door long after Summers leaves. He scoffs, irritated. Something about the Boy Scout rubs him the wrong way. He rolls his eyes. "Prick."

"I see you've met Scott." Logan spins around, and sees… No one. There couldn't be another telepath rummaging around in his head. Between one blink and the next, a woman appears on what's supposed to be his bed. "He's not so bad once you get to know him. Then again, he's not so good either. He's a real mixed bag."

Logan gapes at the relaxed figure lounging on his bed. His senses snap to attention—your scent is all over his room as if it's always been there.

Your heartbeat is fast but steady. He sniffs. Your scent, cool like snow, makes him nostalgic for the Canadian wilderness. It’s tinged with something familiar—an intrinsic note of his own scent. Something he caught on that Sabertooth freak earlier. Animalistic. 

Feral.

As he takes in your appearance, memories of the wilderness flash through his mind. He'd heard stories about people, people like them living off the grid, protecting wildlife and using their powers to evade detection. Maybe you were one of them. A guardian of the wild, hidden from civilization up till now. Maybe he was too.

"What the hell is going on here?" Logan grits his teeth, sick and tired of surprises. You tilt your head, pointed ears twitching, the black tufts catching his attention.

You're lying on your stomach, facing him. Your knees are bent, ankles crossed and swinging.

"You teleport in here or something?" He takes cautious steps towards you, spotting the sharply curved claws in place of toenails—easy weapons. One good kick could slit his throat.

A mix of gray and beige fur trails up from the front of your feet, all the way up your thighs to disappear past the leg of your shorts. It's the same shade as the hair on your head.

"Nope." You barely acknowledge him, grooming the fur along your forearm like one of those big cats. He lingers on the movement, intrigued. The slight tilt of your head, long pink tongue peaking out as it travels the length of your forearm to your knuckles and then back again, holds his attention. "I've been here the whole time.”

“I would’ve smelled you." 

“But ‘ya didn’t,” you chuckle and it feels like you’re rubbing it in his face.

“That's impossible.” He scoffs, shaking his head. 

Sharp, amber eyes lock onto him, reflective and cat-like. He freezes, instincts on edge, the hair on his nape standing as vertical pupils assess him coolly. 

Logan’s eyes flicker away to the exit—only for a split second. But when he looks back, the bed is empty. He whips around to the door, heart pounding in confusion because it's…it's still closed.

Where—? 

“How the hell—”

His jaw doesn't drop but it's a near damn thing. This is freaky, freakier than the regular freakiness he's come to expect after walking into this school.

"Still here." You purr from behind him, the sound of your voice sending a shiver down his spine. He turns back, and there you are again, lounging like you never moved. He takes a deep breath, trying, and failing, to steady himself. 

"You mind explaining how you're doing that?" He asks, hoping he sounds more annoyed than unsettled. He can tell by the playful glint in your eye that he doesn't. 

“And if I do mind?” You say, but he doesn’t rise to the bait, which is what this all is, he realizes. You smirk. "I told you, boy. I've been here the whole time. Long enough to see you strike out with Jeanie."

Logan scowls more at the mention of Jean than being called ‘boy’. Just what he needs—another reminder of the happy couple. 

But how had he missed you? Jean wasn't that distracting. It gnaws at him. He doesn’t like it, the idea of his senses betraying him.

"Yeah, well, it's not exactly easy getting a read on you when you’re playing hide and seek."

You tilt your head, studying him. "Maybe you’re just not looking hard enough."

"Or maybe…” He steps closer, his instincts screaming at him to stay on guard despite your eyes compelling him to do otherwise. “You're just really good at hiding."

Your eyes meet his, a challenge in your gaze that he's not sure he's the right guy to take on. "Then I guess you'll have to get better at seeking.”

Logan's mind races as he processes the confrontation. He isn't used to feeling off balance, the one on the back foot. Usually, he's the one doing the intimidating, the one making others question their next move. 

But with you, it's different. There's a raw, untamed energy about you that draws him in and sets him on edge at the same time. You're not just another mutant, he knows that much. Like none he's ever met before; you're something more, something savage that mirrors the part of himself he tries to keep under control. The part that craves the hunt, the chase.

He comes to stand near the bed, slowly reaching out to check if you're real or just some kind of projection. You stare up at him, amused, and allow his calloused hand to meet the warm skin of your shoulder.

"I don't understand," Logan mutters and it feels like admitting defeat.

"I didn't want you to see me. So you didn't." You shrug, and even that looks graceful. It takes him a second to get there, but it dawns on him in much the same way your sudden appearance did. Some kind of mental camouflage. Not like prey blending in to hide, but a predator lying in wait before striking.

"But I couldn't even smell you anymore." It's one thing to trick his mind, but it should be impossible to trick his nose. He bares his teeth. "I've had enough of people messing with my head."

You say nothing. Instead, you grin, baring your own teeth right back and revealing elongated canines that glint under the low light. His eyes are drawn to their sharp edges. They're sharper than his own. How easily could you sink them into something? He wagers it wouldn't take much effort at all.

"Down, boy." You cackle, not even doing his ego the service of pretending to be threatened. "Unless you wanna see whose bite is really worse than their bark." You raise a brow at him expectantly.

He scowls, crossing his arms. He's not backing down, but something about this whole encounter is throwing him off. Your self-assuredness is doing something to him, and he's not sure what to make of it.

He regards you warily, taking slow measured steps around the bed. "So… What’s your deal? You’re not a teleporter or a telepath? Great. Then what the hell are you?"

"Hm," You hum deep in your chest, resting your chin on your palm as you track his movements. He figures you aren't gonna maul him in his own room. "Don't worry, your nose isn't failing you," you snort, and his confidence in you not being a telepath drops significantly. "I cloaked myself. Completely. Not even the professor can find me if I don't want him to. I can even trick all that fancy tracking technology. So don't feel too bad."

It's a bunch of smoke and mirrors. Well, it's better than you messing with his head. Impressive too.

"Huh. How 'bout that." He licks his lips and holds out a hand. "Name's Logan."

"I heard." You take his hand in your surprisingly strong grip, turning it palm down instead of shaking it. "I was curious about the new guy. Wanted to see if you'd be worth holding my attention." You drag a feather-light finger along his knuckles, circling them, then rubbing the almost perpetually red divots where his claws are hidden. For whatever reason, he lets you. The barely there touch makes the hair on his arm stand up, fingers twitching in your hold. He only just fights back the desire to lean into it.

"S’that so?" He smirks. "And what do you think now that you've seen me?"

"Well, first impressions, I'm not disappointed." Those stunning eyes rove over him, lingering on the sweatpants he borrowed. He preens under your gaze, understanding Scott even less now. Don't get him wrong, Jean seems like a great girl. But how could he possibly see a woman like you and leave you to your lonesome? Hell, his loss is Logan's gain. Slim couldn't handle you anyway. "But the rest depends."

"On?"

"You. I've been so bored here. Keeping clean, prowling the straight and narrow. What do you say, Logan?" You purr, bringing your free hand up to ghost over his leg, and the muscles in his thigh flex under your touch. "You think you can keep me entertained?"

He arches a brow. "You got a name?" He husks, at some point coming close enough to stand over you.

"No," you reply, his brows furrowing in response. Though he guesses he's got no room to judge. He only knows his name because of his dog tags. "The kids just call me Lynx, for whatever that's worth. Guess it stuck.”

"I can see why." He looks you over, taking you and all your curves in as you rise up to your knees to sit on your haunches. You're wearing a tank. A very thin tank. He can see the shape and heft of your tits, and even though you feel far from cold, he can see the white fabric rubbing against your hard nipples. The name fits you, but Minx would've been his suggestion. "And... What exactly do you do around here? Other than skulking in other people's rooms." He asks, not masking his curiosity.

You pull him onto the bed beside you. He doesn't bounce but the springs squeak under his weight.

He can’t picture you teaching those little brats anything. Maybe you could teach them how to gut a man like a pig, but something tells Logan that might just offend the professor’s sensibilities.

Your top lip pulls up into a snarl, a predator's smile, it draws him in instead of warning him away.

"I'm not too good at the whole guiding the minds of our future thing. For now, I have to hone my powers and learn how to integrate back into proper society." If the wording wasn't enough to tell Logan you're copying Chuck word for word, then the accent you put on does the trick.

Your grip on his hand tightens, pressing a hidden pressure point. Logan’s breath catches as his claws unsheathe, the metallic sound slicing through the air. His eyes lock onto yours, trying to read the intention behind this sudden, intimate maneuver. He smells it instead—musky, semi-sweet—and heat pools low in his stomach, hardening him against his thigh.

You shift, straddling him with feline grace, knees on either side of his hips. His free hand instinctively grips your waist to steady you, though it's clear you don't need his help.

Your long tongue runs along his knuckles—warm, wet, and a little rough. He exhales heavily at the sensation.

His mouth drops open with a pant, watching closely. You trail the muscle up the blades—he shouldn't feel it so viscerally, but he does. He can practically feel the flicks of your tongue in his damn spine—and he smells the rich iron in the air before he sees crimson bleed along his claws.

He can smell you getting wetter too. Whether it's from the blood or the sharpness of his claws is anyone's guess. Logan's hold on you tightens, his hand sliding to your lower back as he pulls you closer, a low growl rumbling in his chest

He watches, fascinated, as your split tongue knits itself back together. It's bizarre, witnessing such rapid healing on someone else. The sight stirs something primal within him.

Blood drips down your chin, a stark contrast against your skin. 

He wants to follow it. So he does, pushing into your space to chase it up your chin and into your mouth.

You gasp, soft and sweet, at the contact, your hands threading through his hair, pulling him closer. Running, thankfully, dull nails along his scalp. The metallic taste mingles with the warmth of your mouth as he kisses you deeply, a groan sitting low in his throat.

The kiss, meanwhile, isn't soft or sweet. It's biting and bitter with the taste of your blood, mixing with his own when you bite his bottom lip, fangs piercing the meat as easily as he predicted they would. It makes his head hazy with some kind of bloodlust. Or maybe just regular lust. The two are more intertwined now than ever before. At least as far as Logan can remember, which admittedly isn't saying much. He's got no idea how to begin separating them and he doesn’t want to.

He doesn’t remember the last time he's tasted blood other than his own. It makes him groan as he squeezes the fat around your hips in a bruising grip—hard enough to make you moan. He knows you can handle it, handle him.

You pull away, a string of pink saliva connecting your lips to his.

Something kicks Logan into gear, and, without really thinking about the movement, he leans back down, his lips brushing against your chin to lap up the rest of the blood.

"You showed me yours; only fair I show you mine." You unsheathe your own claws, as pretty and deadly as you are. They're about two inches long and even sharper than those teeth.

"Now, how the hell did they manage to domesticate a wild thing like you?" In this pristine and civilized place, you stand out even more than he does. For a creature like you, it must be akin to captivity.

You laugh, though it sounds closer to a chuff. "I was out in the wilderness, hiding the lynxes from poachers and loggers." You say, hooking a claw in the zipper of his hoodie and tugging it down, exposing his bare chest and stomach to your exploring hands. "Saved as many as I could. Spent years out there like that."

“And the professor found you?" Logan asks, intrigued despite himself and despite all the blood in his head rushing to his dick.

"Eventually," you nod, a hint of a smirk playing on your lips, what he's beginning to think is their natural state. "But not before a lot of poachers ended up dead, wondering why they couldn't find a single lynx."

"You hid them," Logan says, tilting his head back. You don't hesitate to take the bait, swooping down to stitch your lips to his neck. You bite more than you suck, breaking skin as you go and not letting how fast the wounds disappear deter you from making more. He grunts, bucking hips coaxed by your own.

"You're not the only one hiding out from the metal man." Your lips drag against his skin as you speak. Lips and teeth and tongue and—

"Fuck." He hisses. His hips buck again and you meet the movement head-on, swiveling your hips like you're riding a bull.

Magneto wants you too then, Logan thinks, dazed.

"So what?" He breathes, dragging the both of you further up the bed, "Now you're fighting the good fight for animals and mutants?"

"Something like that. Don't tell Xavier, but it really just came down to Jean and Oruro being more persuasive than that big brute Magneto sent for me."

He laughs. "I can believe it."

"Now," you grind your hips down, hitting the perfect angle, "do you wanna hear my life story, or do you wanna fuck me?" You say with a grunt. And when you put it like that, the choice is pretty fucking clear.

He twists around, switching your position with you on your back and him hovering over you.

You've got a mischievous look in your lidded eyes as you hump each other through your clothes, sinking your nails into his ass. He flinches, thrusting against you hard enough to push you up the bed, and snarls in your face.

You laugh as he flips you onto your stomach and yanks your hips up. Moans sprinkle through when he presses up against your ass, dick grinding into you. He can feel how hot you are through your thin shorts. You're soaked, enough to turn the fabric of his sweats a darker gray.

Just the smell of you is straining the cotton around his dick, he wants—no needs more. So he leans down, gripping your shorts and ripping a hole down the middle, finding you wetter than he imagined.

You gasp, peeking over your shoulder at him, but he's already on the move. 

He mumbles a gruff fuck as he watches your pussy clench around nothing. He goes to pull himself out but thinks of a better idea.

He wants your cunt in his mouth and he tells you as much. You smirk, more fang than gum, and sway your hips side to side, like you're daring him to take what he wants. He does.

He buries his nose in your snatch and takes a whiff, you moan, grinding back against his face, leaving slick on his nose and cheeks. He lets you, encourages it, even, by gripping your hips and growling deep in his chest. Fur soft where his facial hair is rough, sticking in wet peaks from how much your cunt is drooling.

He sticks his tongue out, not as long as yours, but long enough to get the job done as he buries it into you. Coaxing out more slick and cum as your fluttering warmth squeezes him. 

“Logan,” You moan into his pillow, likely leaving it wet with licking and biting, the same way he's planning on leaving the blanket under you wet with your cum. He grinds against the bed, letting his own need build steadily in his gut and up his spine, the animalistic urge to devour you stronger than anything else.

The taste of you, as heady as you smell, settles heavily on his tongue and down his throat as you rock back and forth, twisting and whining like the wild thing you are.

He leans back just enough to take one of your pussy lips into his mouth, sucking as you take in hitching breaths above him, moving to the other side to give it the same treatment, before circling back to your clit.

He spits on your fluttering hole, licking it back up, and spitting again and he almost thinks you came then and there from how loud you get.

Your thighs are shaking and you're wet enough for him to skip to two fingers right away. He pushes his spit, and his scent, deep into you, stretching you around his thick fingers as he bites at the back of your thighs. You arch your back like a, well, like a cat in heat.

He fucks you on his fingers hard enough that your body shakes with each thrust. He feels the rapid build-up inside of you, shaking and fluttering as he mumbles against your clit about how good you taste and smell, how wet you are for him. 

He feels you come as much as he sees it, your body locking up before abruptly loosening. He pets your flank, “Atta girl.” His voice is rougher than before as you twitch. Soaking his fingers as you lazily hump his hand, making little gasps and whines that he would have thought of as wounded if he didn’t feel how tightly your walls are gripping him.

You lift your head, something satisfied yet still challenging in your amber eyes that makes his hands go to pull his pants down, using your slick to stroke himself, and he knows his pillow will be littered with puncture marks from your teeth and claws, the thought is enough to make him twitch in his hand, a bead of pre that he swipes with his thumb.

He pauses before offering his finger to you, knowing he made the right choice of staying here when you wrap plump lips around his thumb, hollowing your cheeks and sucking like it's his dick.

You pull back, just enough to lick the mixture of the both of you off of his palm, mumbling a demand. “Fuck me, Logan.”

And who is he to deny you when you’re looking at him like that? Wet and wild, curves and claws wrapped up in golden fur like a gift, just for him.

He smirks, “Yes, ma’am.”

[artytaeh]

( ☆ ) : SLYTHERIN BOYS · BOOBSESSED HEADCANONS . 𖥔 ࣪˖

☆ before you read : obvious smut content ahead, hence why it's advised for minors to not read nor interact. the characters included are mattheo riddle, theodore nott and enzo berkshire. three more characters will be added on part two. 🎀

. 𖥔 ࣪˖ PT O1 | PT O2 [coming soon]

· MATTHEO THOMAS RIDDLE. ☆ a successfully converted man.

it's so funny how until now, mattheo riddle was absolutely sure that he was an ass type of guy. meaning, that in mattheo's eyes, he'd go into a full-on debate with theo for the sake of defending his truth: a woman's ass is her best feature. with his flings and other nightstands, mattheo delighted himself on slapping his calloused hands there, getting a few handprints here and there, watching as those slytherin girls strolled around the slytherin's common room with rolled up skirts.

then he met you. on that fatidical night. when his calloused, injured fingers brushed over your nipple—forcing a needy moan out of you, mattheo saw your back arch from such a simple action. suddenly, all of those heated debates with theo meant anything, and mattheo had to give the debate's victory to lorenzo, who always defended boobs supremacy.

THIS MAN WILL SHAMELESSLY STARE at your chest whenever he can. whenever he wants. wherever he is — mattheo riddle will snap his neck to the other side of the room, when he notices you've entered, so his dark eyes can have its orbs moving up and down briefly; his gaze following every bounce of your breasts, no matter the size, like a snake being hypnotized out of its basket.

you know that meme where someone puts sunglasses and says that they're wearing them so no one can realize what they're paying attention to? that's mattheo riddle. bent down. hands on his pockets, body lowered until his head levels up to your chest. staring shamelessly at your breasts. smiling and wetting his lips at the sight.

MATTHEO LAUGHS IF YOU SLAP the back of his head. you'd think that mattheo riddle's anger issues would flare at that, but seriously, mattheo does it because 1) it's a bloody angelic sight; 2) he loves to tease you. seeing you squirm, embarrassed and even upset, mattheo has this little guilty pleasure of adoring it all, making you angry so he can kiss the annoyance away.

WOULD LITERALLY MOAN AND CREAM HIS PANTS if one day you appear with nipple piercings. piercings as a whole are very attractive in mattheo's eyes, but there? it's the prettiest sight for him. screw those '7 wonders of the world'; he has you, without any shirt or bra, right there in front of him.

and when mattheo riddle remembers that these specific piercings are for his eyes only... oh, boy. you're in for a ride. he gets ridiculously possessive, but in a giddy way! will torment your chest with the biggest smug grin in the whole world, almost looking like a cheshire cat, trapping your nipple inside his mouth and rolling his tongue over the iron; mumbling, these are all fucking mine, the sound of his voice vibrating on your already sensitive skin. for my eyes only.

SOMETIMES LIKES TO FULL-ON GRAB THEM. mattheo suddenly snaps out of nowhere, moving towards you with a piercing gaze, determination on his eyes, and soon his hands cup your breasts. you'd complain at him sometimes; because sometimes, mattheo is a little stupid and squeezes the soft skin beneath his fingers with more strength than he should. he always apologizes, of course— and depending on the mood, he might give you that cheshire grin of his, asking if you want him to kiss it better.

but there are other times that, in a way, are more tender. you're hanging out in your dorm room, maybe reading a book, until mattheo takes the book off of your hands so he sneaks his way inside your blouse. yes, mattheo stays there. nonchalantly, too! head hidden there, feeling the warmth of your breasts against his cheek. it's heaven on earth for him, really.

☆ EXTRA: this man LOOOOVES to fuck you when you're wearing nothing but his quidditch's shirt or slytherin jersey. he'll roll it up to your chest, just enough so he can see your breasts bounce with each thrust. mattheo doesn't know if he should look away, bewitched by the sight, or if seeing you like this, moaning his name while you're wearing his uniform is too much for him to take. mattheo swears that one day, you'll drive him absolutely insane.

and if he's feeling silly... yeah, mattheo will lightly hold one on each hand, and dangle them gently. like a goddamn child, a gremlin-like laughter will be heard from mattheo, comparing your chest to twin jellies, doing this type of shit after he just rearranged your guts. having free pass to touch your boobs is a promised field day for mattheo—he won't get bored, i promise.

· THEODORE FAUSTUS NOTT. ☆ very proud worshipper of his fixation.

theodore's entertainment is deeply rooted in the way he can be intimately closer to you, touching and worshipping skin that only a selected few should be chosen to see, throughout your life. in every touch, each single praise murmured in foreign words you don't know and sweet nicknames, theo makes sure that other men will have to crawl to be comparable to him.

in a slightly more selfish way, theo also sees a pleasant way to deal with his oral fixation. didn't you ask him for a substitute for cigarettes? well—he has very few options that can rival nicotine. and if he can pleasure you, then that's just meant to be, right?

THEODORE IS A CULTURED, EDUCATED and knowledgeable man! — or at least, that's what he tries to convince you, upon being suspiciously asked why of all things in the world, theo told you in detail about the wonders of female anatomy. no, not mansplaining; it's just that he read somewhere that the chest area can be really sensitive to some women. supposedly, it can help coaxing into an orgasm, or even be enough to get you all wet and ready for him. naturally, you call it bullshit. but oh. oh, there it is. the so-feared, rarely seen openly competitiveness that gets theodore stubbornly on fire, currently fueled by your doubts of his capabilities.

and let me tell you that this man is good with his mouth.

ten minutes. half an hour, almost forty minutes. more than that, if he needs to; that mouth of his refuses to stop until you're barely babbling coherent sentences, his lips dividing the attention between one breast and the other, equally branding his ownership there. theodore nudges his way between your legs, his knee pressing on your middle and tease — not giving you the friction you need. his hands and fingers roam your body, tracing each curve to memorize the feeling of your body, but his lips, mouth and tongue never leave your chest. how is his mouth not sore and tired already?

if you ask that to yourself and commit the mistake of opening your eyes, lowering your gaze to see theo, those sinful blue eyes of his were already staring at you, drinking every moan and savouring the outcome of his dedication, theodore nott moans as soon as eye contact stubbornly remain, and he keeps his mouth there like a starved man. not only is theodore nott competitive, but also ridiculously patient to get the things he wants. in this case, getting you dry humping on his thigh and knee, while he shows you that yes, he can coax some sensitivity out of you.

THEO ADORES TO HAVE YOU SITTING on his lap, one arm wrapped around your waist to keep you from fleeing from his eager mouth. his free hand traces a featherlight path upwards, until theodore's long fingers reach the nape of her neck, combing through the waves of your hair until he grasps those strands, guiding you to meet his gaze. blue eyes, usually stormy with bottled up feelings, stare at you with an intensity that is comparable to an artist staring at a spectacular statue, out of those amazing monuments back at italy.

this position is a favorite of theo's for many reasons: first of all, its practicality; he specially likes to sink on his seat, an armchair if possible, so that his body doesn't sit so upright. guiding you with him, your torso bends over to him, hand on your upper back to keep you in place, restricting even the thought of leaning away from his face. whether you grind, ride or simply enjoy the feeling of him filling you so deeply to the core, that's a choice he'll let you make—for now, he gets to savor the softness of your chest weighing against his face—and bite your nipple when he wants you to start a rhythm.

BECAUSE HE'S STILL A BIG ENJOYER OF THIGHS, theo would never lose the spot between your legs as a preferred place to reside, whenever privacy allows it. thighs spread wide, theodore wants a good view of everything, not allowing you to feel an ounce of shame as soon as his tongue distracts you. eating you out is more than a favor or pleasantry for theo, taking pride in pleasuring his partner for as long as it takes—keeping eye contact as he places the most obscene kisses between your folds, licking and sucking like it was the very product of passion. sometimes, theo asks you to play with your chest as he does that, this sight being enough to coax theo into rubbing his erection on the sheets, getting off on eating you out while you play with yourself, his own fingers too busy for that.

☆ EXTRA: a discreet and secret collector of your underwear. taking off your panties in a secluded corner of the library, stealing the bra you were using before having sex, having a stash that is changed every week—hey, he doesn't want you to stress over lost lingerie. be it the cutest set or the most basic comfortable wear, theodore still finds it in himself to steal it for a while. definitely sniffs your bra and uses your panties to jerk off instead of using his own hand.

ON A LESS SEXUAL NOTE, because theodore only is that kind of pervert without prying eyes to witness you and him, theodore enjoys using your chest as a form of stress balls whenever he's going through a load of homework. with you sitting all pretty on his lap, theodore writes his history of magic's essay while squeezing one of your breasts with his free hand. really gentle about it, doesn't even try to make you horny—he knows that it's unfair to make you wait until he's done with his academics. it also helps to keep his mind away from his family's pressure.

· LORENZO CHARLES BERKSHIRE. ☆ a loyal, faithful believer.

lorenzo berkshire always was, and always will, be a boob type of man. it's an unspeakable wonder to him, and unironically, enzo will worship every single chest that is presented to him—it doesn't matter if you're a friend, a nightstand whose name he won't remember tomorrow, a girl he despises but found himself making out with, or his own girlfriend; it does not matter, because boobs are boobs, and lorenzo never shies away from the opportunity.

"oh, so does the size mat—" no. be it big, medium, small; lorenzo gladly takes the chance with greedy hands and that cheeky smirk that gets so many witches at hogwarts on their knees (figuratively and literally speaking).

ENZO WILL LITERALLY USE ANY AND EVERY EXCUSE to touch your breasts. contrary to mattheo, who's already the happiest just to see them even with clothes above, lorenzo will beg, plead, convince, whine, cry, flirt, present facts and create ridiculous motives to have his hand on your tits.

pansy, as lovely as she is, would make the error of oversharing one day with him at the slytherin's table at breakfast; pansy stabs her food with an annoyed frown, complaining about patriarchy and how it directly obligates her to wear bras. uncomfortable bras. and seriously, lorenzo is such a great friend that he listens attentively to all of pansy's complaints and even engages an indignant dialogue with her (as if that was a problem of his, so you can see how lorenzo truly empathizes), but—

but. where pansy sees a reason to get angry for the rest of the morning, lorenzo berkshire sees an opportunity. it almost looked like pansy had presented him with the solution to world's hunger, when enzo stands up, kisses her cheek with a loud 'thank you, you intelligent sneaky woman!', and immediately marches his way to you.

with a smile that you know all too well, lorenzo proudly marches to where you are. you're right to have a feeling of distrust—because really, what are the chances of having your boyfriend asking you: 'hey, is your bra uncomfortable? pansy told me about it. not your bra, hers; in a platonic way, obviously! anyways, i've been thinking— i should be a better boyfriend to you. which means, you really shouldn't have to wear bras. i can just hold them for you, look!' (and you watch in horror, as lorenzo raises his hands to you. then, he rubs his palms together, almost looking like a cartoon villain.) 'i can warm them up for you! or keep them cold during summer!' (and girl, if you slap him... to be honest, lorenzo won't even complain. he probably deserved it; he should have said his 'good morning's first.)

THOSE FLIRTY PICK-UP LINES HE USES ARE... terrible. should be illegal, even. it reaches a point where lorenzo is lucky to be this handsome and charming, otherwise you'd never give him the time of day anymore.

oh, these look heavy. allow me to be a gentleman and carry it for you? — berkshire, lorenzo. one of his worst ones. yes, he is referring to your breasts. yes, he would be in a full-on 24 hour delight where nothing can bother this blessed man.

sincerely GIVES UP ON TOPPING SOMETIMES. we know that lorenzo is a switch; and the sight of you riding him? oh, he loves it. he adores it even more, when you're telling him what to do; where to touch, using him as if he was a sex toy of yours. enzo never knows whether to watch your beautiful face contort into the most sinful blissed expressions, or to watch where you two connect, where you bounce on his groin, riding him—ultimately, lorenzo steals shameless glances at your breasts; and unless you tell him to do otherwise, he gets his hands and mouth there. all. the. time.

even with his mouth busy, lorenzo doesn't shut up. you can feel him smirking on your skin, how those lips of his curve into a cheeky smile, lips brushing on your sensitive skin as he moves his lips to talk, to whisper sweet nothings to you: 'so good for me, angel. pretty girl, you drive me insane.'

☆ EXTRA: likes finishing on your breasts. enzo will edge himself this one time, leave your tight grip a moment earlier so he can circle your nipple with this tip, until he's coloring your skin with his cum. definitely has a nearby polaroid to register the moment—yes, those wizardy photos, so he can see his cum drip down your skin, over and over again—only to use it as his little black book's bookmark. you're a forever favorite, alright?

© tysm for reading! messages and requests are always welcomed in my askbox. 🫂

[rorysbrainrot]

Headcanons for Theodore Nott

• Theodore is a really good student, he’s one of the best in all the classes that he takes.

• He loves giving gifts, buying stuff for everyone he loves.

• Chainsmoker, he does it so much. A lot more than Mattheo.

• He doesn’t really have opinions on Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw, but the way he grew up around people who weren’t to fond on Gryffindors it wouldn’t be a house he likes.

• He does get crushes here and there, but doesn’t act on it and hopes it goes away.

• Slytherin chaser

• With his father being a death eater and his mother passing when he was young, he would probably have some sort of pure blood supremacy.

• His type is someone who can keep up with him and doesn’t have anything against Slytherins or his family.

• Loves reading, he most definitely had a rebel faze where he read muggle written books.

• Usually isn’t aggressive unless someone said shit about his father or his friends/partner.

• Total cat person.

• Randomly starts speaking in Italian, he’s not even mad or happy, he just randomly switches.

• I kinda see him liking chicken for some reason.

• I feel like his dad in some way cares for him, so he doesn’t force him to become a death eater until he’s ready.

• Favorite color is absolutely blue.

• Likes cherry pie.

——————x——————x——————x——————x——————x

Theodore Nott as a boyfriend

• Would be a relentless cuddler, absolutely loves feeling you close to him.

• Kisses you every time he sees you, cheek, lips, nose, neck etc’.

• A really big romantic, once he starts actually truly connecting with you expect random dates or gifts showing up on your bed.

• If you’re not a Slytherin would always ask you to sneak into his dorm to spend the night.

• Teaches you Italian so you two can have secret conversations.

• Calls His partner Amor Mio, Tesoro, sole and Leggera. (Because you’re the light of his life.)

• Would die before he lets someone hurt you.

• Buys you anything you ask for, or he sees you look at.

• Always has to be touching you in some way.

• Gets so turned on when he see you wearing one of his shirts or jackets. (Which he purposely gave you just to see you in.) Literally goes feral.

• I feel like he would let you choose everything, when you ask for his opinion he looks at you with puppy eyes afraid he’ll choose the one you didn’t want.

——————x——————x——————x——————x——————x

His Red Flags 🚩

• Won’t open up to you even after confirming he loves you.

• He gets jealous so easily.

• Does view pure bloods as the highest status.

• Honestly drinks so much, and I think he would be sort of an angry drunk due to not letting his anger out all the time when sober.

•Smokes a lot, you’ll smell it on him all the time.

• I can’t think of a lot of red flags, but i’m sure there’s many more.

——————x——————x——————x——————x——————x

-I enjoy doing these! Let me know if anyone wants another character! Also for some reason, some of the grammar on this one doesn’t sit right with me. I apologize.-

[sweetbans29]

Meatball (Photography AU)- CC

Pairing: Caitlin Clark x Reader (lowkey Meatball)

Photography

Summary: 3 interactions between Caitlin and Meatball - your cat, Photography AU

Warnings: I don't even know how to warn you for this... oh and there is one curse word

Word Count: 2.5k

Sweetbans Masterlist

AN: Meatball supremacy.

one. stare.

"Do you have to go?" Caitlin says not wanting to release you from her hold.

"Yes, I do this invitational every year, you know that," you say referring to you leaving to go photograph the Nike Nationals. It had been in both of your calendars for weeks and Caitlin has refused to acknowledge it.

"Ya but wouldn't it just be better to stay here and cuddle with me the whole time," Caitlin counters not knowing how she is expected to sleep without you next to her.

If there was one thing that grew since the world found out about your relationship with Caitlin, it was Caitlin's constant need to be near you. She was a level 5 clinger and knew it. There weren't many people who didn't know it, you being an expert in the matter. If it were anyone else, you would have major issues and most likely would have ended the relationship a long time ago. But Caitlin was different. Her need to be near you wasn't suffocating. It wasn't the type of clingy that kept you at attached to her hip, but it was the need to know you are always around or near her.

Like when there is a game, she doesn't need to have eyes on you at all times, doesn't even need to talk to your before, during or after. She just needs to know that you are in the same building as her. That you are in the vicinity.

This is why she is trying to get you to stay with her rather than go to Chicago for Nike Nationals - she had to stay and practice while you flew somewhere she wasn't.

"I will be back before you know it," you tell her as you bring your backpack out to your suitcase and double check you have everything you need.

Caitlin takes on a look of defeat knowing she will be sleeping alone for the next two nights.

"Hey," you say coming face her. "You will be okay."

"Haven't slept without you in months," she mutters, her head plopped down on your shoulder. Your arms come to wrap around your 6 foot child and you rub her back. Caitlin is slouched just a smidge and you can't help but love how much she loves you.

"You can cuddle up with Meatball, he is a great second to me," you say joking and you feel Caitlin groan. Meatball, as if he heard you talking about him (he did), comes to the door to see what is going on.

You part from Caitlin and lean down to pick him up, he purrs instantly.

"Right Meatball? You will take good care of my Caity babe while I'm gone won't you?" You say to the cat as you give him a few last pets before heading out the door.

Meatball gives you little head-butts and you give him several kisses.

"See babe, you will be very well taken care of. You won't even know I am gone," you say trying to cheer her up. But by the look on her face, you can tell you have just annoyed her.

Putting Meatball back on the ground you give Caitlin one last hug and head out the door. Caitlin is forced to look at Meatball after you leave and he just walks away, going to do his own thing.

That night Caitlin can't sleep, she is tossing and turning like no other. It gets to the point where she gets up and goes to watch something on the couch.

It is not that she wasn't tired, the girl was exhausted. When she looks at the clock and realizes that it is 3AM, she makes her way back to her bed.

Caitlin sleeps maybe 3 hours before needing to get up to go to practice. When she gets there the whole team mentions how tired she looks which only aggravates her more. She single-handedly had one of the worst practices she has ever had and has to go one more night without you.

When she gets back to the apartment, Meatball meets her at the door. When he realizes it isn't you, he walks away leaving Caitlin alone.

"Trust me, I don't want to see you either," Caitlin says to the cat.

That night Caitlin is yet again tossing and turning. She starts to feel like she is going crazy from exhaustion and feels tears form in her eyes. Right before they fall she feels movement on the bed.

Her head whips up as she sees Meatball making his way towards her. Cait groans and throws her head back into her pillow.

'Of course it's the fucking cat,' Caitlin thinks to herself.

Meatball makes his way to Caitlin. He is hesitant at first, almost as if he doesn't want to be there. Once he reaches Caitlins stomach, he puts one paw on it - testing the waters. When Caitlin doesn't move, he proceeds to put both of his front paws on her stomach and begins kneading.

"Meatloaf, stop," she says tried and frustrated.

The cat stops for a second and looks Caitlin directly in the eye as a tear finally escapes. Meatball then proceeds to walk onto Caitlin's midsection - moving around before loafing right in the middle of her stomach.

Caitlin doesn't know what to do as she stares directly into Meatball's eyes. Meatball is staring right back at her. After about a minute of staring at one another, Meatball gives Caitlin one slow blink before closing his eyes. It is as if saying, 'You aren't my first choice but both of our favorite human is not here so you will have to do'.

After a moment, Caitlin feels herself calm down as her eyes begin to feel heavy, sleep finally overtaking her.

The next morning, Caitlin wakes up slowly. She turns over reaching for you then remembers you are not home. When she turns all the way over, she is met with Meatball sprawled out on your side of the bed - the events of the night before flooding back to her.

"Nobody has to know about this," Caitlin says as she brings her hand up to pet Meatball. It is then and there that they make an agreement to never speak of that night again - really it was Caitlin saying she is never going to speak of it because Meatball can't talk...because he is a cat.

two. hair ties.

"Hey babe, have you seen any of my hair ties? I swear I just bought some," Caitlin says as she comes out from the bathroom.

"I thought you had one on the counter in there?" You ask, seeing it that morning.

"I thought so too but it isn't there," she says. "Are you using it?"

You shake your head no.

"What the heck, I literally just bought a pack and I don't know where half of them went.

Over the next couple of weeks, Caitlin feels like she is going insane. One after another, Caitlin's hair ties go missing. It has gotten to the point where she feels like she needs to search every inch of the apartment and that is exactly what she does.

It is an off day for her and instead of going out and doing something fun like you had wanted, Caitlin was determined to figure out what was happening will all of her hair ties. You being denied the fun day, want nothing to do with her search.

Caitlin begins by checking everywhere in the bathroom. She looks in all the cabinets and drawers but comes up empty handed. Room by room, Caitlin searches every inch. That is until she gets to the living room to see Meatball loafing on the couch, watching Caitlin tear up their apartment.

Caitlin calls your name and you come out from the bedroom.

"What?" you say and see Caitlin and Meatball in a stare down. You laugh at the sight.

"Where are they?" Caitlin asks the cat as if he can respond.

"Babe, Meatball isn't going to respond to you," you say as you go to the kitchen and take this opportunity of you being up to grab a snack.

"This fur-devil is the one who has been taking all my hair ties, I know it. Where are they?" Caitlin asks again. Meatball doesn't budge.

It then dawns on Cait - under the couch. She makes a quick move to being to push the couch from its home and is met with dozens of black hair ties. Your eyes widen at the sight.

"Ahhha!" Caitlin yells causing Meatball to jump off the couch. "You little menace!"

Caitlin is now going after Meatball who runs away from her. He runs right to you and you pick him up, giving him scratchies.

"Do not love on the enemy," Caitlin says coming to grab Meatball. You stop her.

"Don't you dare hurt my child," you say kissing Meatballs head and he looks at Caitlin as if he knows he has won.

"You can not seriously be picking a cat over me right now," Caitlin says in disbelief.

"You had the day off today and the choice to go out and have a fun day with me and you chose to stay here and go on a manhunt for something that costs less than a coffee. You chose this," you say taking Meatball back to your bedroom.

"Babe, it has been driving me crazy for weeks," Caitlin says in defense.

"And this is one of the first days you have had off in weeks," you counter.

Caitlin knows there is no way she is winning this battle so she lets it go. She gives you space as she collects all the contents from under the couch. She knows she needs to salvage the day and decides to make dinner reservations at your favorite restaurant.

She takes you out later that night and the two of you have a great time. You thank her for saving the day as the two of you head back to the apartment. As the two of you get ready for bed, you ask Caitlin for a hair tie.

"There is one on the counter," she says from bed.

"No there isn't," you say looking everywhere but not seeing one.

"I just put it there for you before I got in bed," she says. You look around but don't see it.

Meatball walks in and sits in the doorway. You looks down at him and shake your head knowing that your fur-baby was about to start another war.

three. you're okay.

You and Caitlin are home with your 8 month old baby girl. The two of you decided that Caitlin shouldn't take the season off as you were the one to carry your first. It had been a wild ride but each bump in the road the two of you took together.

That is how you ended up on the couch with Cait watching your little one laid out on the floor.

"We did a pretty good job didn't we," you say watching Maya.

"We did," Caitlin says kissing your head.

The two of you watch Maya as you see Meatball walk over and stop about 3 feet from your daughter.

"Meatball, don't you think about it," Caitlin says as he sits and watches Maya just like you and CC are. Meatball licks one of his paws as he looks up at you. Caitlin is shaking her head no and he lays down.

"He is going to give me a heart attack," Caitlin says. You laugh.

"Why is that?" You say still laughing.

"Because he is going to do something to Maya," she says.

"Meatball is a loaf of sweetness, he is not going to do anything to hurt Maya," you say. Maya is now reaching her hand out to Meatball and opening and closing her hand. It is as if she wants to pet Meatball but doesn't know how to do that.

"I don't know," Caitlin says as she watches Meatball inch closer towards Maya.

"Okay that is close enough," Caitlin says and Meatball looks up at her with unamused eyes.

"He is fine," you say and Caitlin doesn't like it. She gets up and moves Meatball away from Maya.

"Do you feel better?" You ask as Caitlin picks Maya up and brings her to you on the couch.

"Much," Caitlin says.

Maya smiles when she sees you.

The next time Caitlin has a day off the three of you go out in the morning for breakfast. When you get home, it is time for you to put Maya down for a nap and she is just not having it.

"Baby, you need to sleep my love," you say as you rock her back and forth trying to get her to a spot where you can put her down and she won't cry immediately. It takes you longer than you want but you finally get her down in her crib. What you didn't see was Meatball chilling on the rocker in the corner of the room.

When you close the door and walk out to Caitlin, you fall on the couch in defeat.

"She is so fussy right now," you say, closing your eyes. Caitlin moves you so you are leaning up against her and she holds you.

"I know baby," Caitlin says. "It won't be like this forever, she is just teething."

"I know, but it is so draining," you say.

Caitlin kisses the top of your head when the two of you hear Maya crying on the baby monitor.

"I got her," Cait says as she moves you a little to get up.

Caitlin makes her way to Maya's room as slowly opens the door. She is a little confused when she doesn't here any crying and slowly makes her way over to her daughter. Looking into the crib she is surprised.

Laying right next to Maya is Meatball. He is not overwhelming her like Caitlin has been so afraid of but is sitting at a comfortable distance while Maya's hand is holding his outstretched paw.

"Meatball, what are you doing in here?" Caitlin whispers.

He looks up at her and without saying (because he is a cat) gives Caitlin the 'I am taking care of our child'.

Caitlin's eyes drift to Maya and she is fast asleep. She looks back at Meatball.

"You're okay," Caitlin says to the cat. It is in this moment that Caitlin shifts her idea of what Meatball is. For so long she has looked as Meatball as competition for your attention or as a pest that bugs her when she doesn't ask for it. But thinking back to when Meatball was there for Caitlin when you were out of town and she couldn't to sleep to now seeing how he is comforting Maya when she is fussy and can't sleep. It is the first time that she really sees the value that Meatball holds in the family.

AN: I love Meatball and NO ONE will ever change my mind. Meatball for life! Let me know all of your Meatball thoughts. And as always, thank you for your love and support 🤍