[drvyn]

♡ ──── rosalyne, for short, rosa | 20 | love and deepspace | location: mountains outside of Linkon with caleb !! ────

recently haunted by: old habits die hard, even with money (reo)

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[allthingswhumpyandangsty]

small thing I'd like to add here is that there is no bad fic as long as it's done with love <3

[yvilonion]

squirrel

[bibbysstuff]

The girls are fighting

[bibbysstuff]

Mission failed....successfully?

[mayweholdhands]

Good listener

[yvilonion]

american satan

[wizzperrrs]

one thing about satoru, his eyes are terrifying at night.

especially when his infinity is turned on. his eyes are glowing.

one night you got into an argument with satoru, leading you facing the other way in bed and he strictly put himself in infinity so you couldn’t touch him as a punishment. you weren’t going to anyway.

while you were facing the other way in bed, the blanket pulled over the both of your bodies, you close your eyes, attempting to sleep.

…until you feel lasers poking at your back.

you turn to the side a bit, getting that instinct that something’s watching you.

it’s satoru.

his eyes blown wide, staring at you, bright blue glowing.

“satoru, stop staring at me. it’s creepy.”

“what? i can’t stare at my spouse now? jeez. can a man do anything in life anymore?” he huffs, looking to the side in pretend frustration.

“no, you can’t. not at night.”

“fine. goodnight.”

you mumble a goodnight back, turning back to face the other way.

you close your eyes again, trying to sleep.

you feel piercing through the back of your head.

you swiftly turn around again, brows furrowed at satoru.

“i said stop staring at me!” you said, angry.

“i’m not! i’m staring at a spider crawling on your pillow.”

“oh please. if there were a spider crawling on my pillow you’d be the first to scream.” you scoff, turning back around.

minutes go by.

whipping your head around, “satoru, you’re being a freak right now!”

his eyes are still, big and glowing blue, absolutely freakishly terrifying. “i’m not even doing anything!”

“at least turn off that stupid infinity so you’re not as scary!”

“wow. so you’re saying i’m scary and ugly and hideous now and that i belong under the bed because i’m a monster. what affection.” he turns around the other way, turning off his infinity.

you sigh, finally finding your peace, turning back around, closing your eyes.

you relax…

…before slowly grabbing another pillow, turning and wacking him straight in the face. because again, he was staring at you with those big blue creepy ass eyes!

“owww!!! i just wanted to look at you!” his voice mumbled under the pillow.

@wizzperrrs on tumblr don’t translate or copy yk the deal

[qiyusheart]

the gotham city of lads

[sugarladytum]

Just got his outfit

[sugarladytum]

The kitty and the frog ✨

[humanjarvis]

call it what you want

synopsis: when you visit a gathering of childhood friends, they’re wary of you and caleb’s relationship. and while you take it in stride, he takes it to heart. 

tags: fluff, angst, heart to heart, happy ending, calebmc judged by childhood friends for their relationship, mc withstands it but caleb withdraws, barely yandere caleb, he does watch mc when they’re apart though, caleb breaks somebody’s teeth with his evol, calebmc relationship depicted as the jumbled up mess that it is, there’s not really pseudocest though, calebmc are each other’s first kiss, caleb is insecure, mc comforts the hell out of him, references to caleb’s mental illness, allusions to sex. inspired by “call it what you want” by taylor swift  pairing: caleb x fem!reader, reader is mc word count: 8.1k (woah!)

a/n: behold my thesis on the intricate siblingfriendpartnership of calebmc. it’s the best thing i’ve written and i’m so glad. but also this has ended up doubling as my 2k followers special 🎉🎉🎉 that is an unfathomable amount of people subjecting themselves to my writing and i’m seriously so grateful. thank you for motivating me to create! anyway, i truly hope you get something out of this, but even if you don’t, i’m proud of it 💞

“C’mon, pip-squeak. We can't ignore it forever. I’m here now, and I'll be right by your side. All those bad memories…you won’t have to face them alone anymore.”

“I know. And I’m glad. But still, it’s…different now,” you smile weakly, failing to suppress a heavy sigh. 

Caleb was in Linkon for the week, having put his foot down about his well-earned time off. And you, having gotten used to the constant Fleet interruptions, had gone the extra mile to make him unreachable: locking his communicator in your bedside drawer. 

After three days of making new memories—you’d ticked the movies, the zoo, and a concert off your list—his love for nostalgia had finally gotten the better of him. He’d set his sights on reminiscence, and all morning, he’d been pestering you to visit your old neighborhood. Where your childhood home had once stood.

“We can just take a look around. Five minutes, tops. Aren’t you curious about that old playset you used to drag me to? Always made me spot you under the monkey bars in case you fell. I’m sure they miss you,” he teases, hope shining in his ametrine eyes. 

And as you picture it—the iron bars of the jungle gym, now rusted with time; the grayish, well-traveled cobblestone streets; the wild honeysuckle bushes scattered around the block—you know this is a battle you can’t win. 

“Fine,” you huff. “But you’re driving.” 

“As if I’d refuse. And hey,” he softens, grabbing your arm gently. “If it’s too much, let me know. We’ll come back right away.” 

***

Your stomach roils as familiar street signs come into view.  

Green lawns and picket fences. Symbols of safety you could no longer trust. 

Humming along to an old pop hit on the radio—a valiant attempt to distract you—Caleb turns into your neighborhood, and you clench your teeth involuntarily. 

Luckily, you don’t have too much time to worry. Because seconds later, he pulls over a few houses from home and puts the car in park. 

You sit for a moment. Watching. Breathing.  

Thinking of how the last time you came here, he was dead.

“I’ll race ya,” he says suddenly, shutting the engine off and throwing his door open. And with a strained chuckle, you follow suit.

You lose on purpose, slowing your steps the closer you get to Gran’s house. You know he can tell.  

But soon, you run out of room to stall. 

As you stand beside the “FOR SALE” sign, feeling like a stranger, the freshly polished wood and foreign color scheme deepen the pit inside your stomach. 

Caleb whistles lowly. “Sure looks different, doesn’t it?”

But you’re not listening. You’re remembering. 

You remember the smell—the charred scent that stuck with you for so long after the explosion, your nostrils blistered from too much blowing. The way ashes fell endlessly from the sky, and you didn’t know what—or who—they were made of. The last-minute salon visit you’d had to schedule to chop the singed ends of your hair off. 

“C’mon. That playground is just this way,” he offers, coaxing voice saving you from too much rumination. 

“Okay,” you whisper, sliding your hand into his.

It was an age-old lesson, one you’d learned a hundred times: summer heat and monkey bars don’t mix.

As you flinch away with a startled hiss, Caleb casually pulls spare gloves from his pocket—as if he kept them on him for a situation like this—and carefully slips them onto you. For someone whose hands dwarf yours, they fit suspiciously well. 

“Up you go,” he sings, lifting you to reach the handles. And just like all those years before, he walks beside you as you cross, steadying you with his gentle touch. 

When you reach the end, instead of jumping down, you shift your momentum to swing backwards, skater dress twirling with the motion. 

But as your front faces the street again, you realize your mistake a moment too late. 

“Oh my gosh, is that who I think it is?!” 

As a vaguely recognizable voice squeals, you freeze in place, hands squeezing around the iron bars in a death grip. 

“Oh, it totally is! You haven’t come around here in forever—it’s so good to see you!” the voice continues. 

Turning your head—slowly, like the main character in a horror film—your eyes land on an all too familiar figure. Sarah, a girl around your age you used to envy for her toy collection, stands just feet away from you, long leash corralling a massive German Shepherd held tightly in her manicured hand. 

With two light taps on your back—Caleb’s signal for you to come down—you loosen your hold and land almost gracefully on the pea gravel below. 

This was a situation you’d only been in once before. When Gideon had crossed paths with you at the cemetery and learned his dead friend was, well…not. 

In any case, the circumstances then had been rare enough for you to carry on without establishing a protocol. And now, as you stand at the mercy of someone with no reason to keep Caleb’s secret, you’ll be forced to improvise. 

“Hi…Sarah,” you grin awkwardly, fiddling with your hands in front of you. “Thought you’d have moved by now.”

“Nope!” she chirps, not catching your apprehension. “We’re gonna give it one more year. After my husband saves up from his new job, we want to travel a bit before settling down.” 

You nod brusquely. 

“By the way, we haven’t really seen you here since the accident. I’m so sorry about your grandmother and Caleb—I know how close you two were. But—oh! Excuse my manners,” she pivots, looking behind you as if a lightbulb flicked on overhead. “Who’s th—”

Sarah’s tanned face blanches. 

“Hey Sarah. It’s been a while,” he greets casually. 

And the woman in front of you looks between you both as if she’s seconds away from siccing that dog on you. 

“You…caught us at a bad time,” you giggle nervously. “It’s kind of a secret, but…that was a…false report, after the explosion. Caleb actually managed to flee the area with a few burns. The authorities just kept the whole thing under wraps in case it was a targeted attack, or something. So I’ve been keeping an eye on him ever since!” you smile tightly, squeezing his dry palm with your clammy one. 

“Oh…well…what a relief, I guess!” she chuckles uncomfortably. “Well…if you’re not laying too low, Caleb,” she starts, extroverted nature beating out her rationality, “we’re having a get-together with all the neighborhood kids tomorrow! You guys should totally come. We’d hate to miss our favorite duo—you were always so funny, nagging each other like siblings.” 

You bristle at the term, gripping Caleb’s hand so tightly it could bruise. “Um, thanks for the offer, Sarah, but we…” you trail off, looking at him to help you. 

“We’d love to come!” he doesn’t. 

“Uh, we…would?” you question, perplexed by his sudden enthusiasm. 

“Yeah, why not, pips? It’d do you good to reconnect with some of the girls you liked hangin’ around. Plus, I’ll be right there with you,” he smiles brightly. 

Though his reasoning barely quells your anxiety, your heart softens at the gesture.

“Alright, then,” you turn to Sarah. “We’ll be there.”

The old mall down the block is halfway through renovations. 

Neon orange construction cones litter the parking lot, and every door but the main entrance is sealed off with yellow caution tape. 

Navigating through the weekend traffic, you and Caleb wander through the swarming, noisy corridors, leaving store after store empty-handed. 

You don’t know what to wear. 

Meeting so many people after such a long time…there’s an irrational need to impress, to look like you have your life together.

And somehow, every outfit seems off on you. It’s not false advertising—the mannequins are gorgeous as ever. But there’s something about you that ruins every look. 

As you rummaged through different displays, Caleb had done some light hovering—staying near, but letting you do your own thing, overall. 

But as you return another dress to the rack with a frustrated growl, he swoops in to put his scary intuition to good use. 

“This would suit you,” he grins kindly, brandishing a pastel blue sundress. “Wanna try it on?”

You eye the fabric skeptically. It’s not your usual style, but you take it into the dressing room anyway. 

And of course, the first thing Caleb picks out for you is perfect. 

“Told ya,” he laughs when you call him inside, back hugging you in the mirror. “You look beautiful. ‘Course it helps that it was my idea, and all.”

Swatting him gently, you giggle as you try to push him out of the cramped space, grunting with annoyance when he sandbags you. 

“Get out of here!” you protest. “We still have to find your outfit, and the mall closes soon.”

“Okay, okay, I'm going,” he relents cheekily. “Snap a picture for me before you take it off, though, alright?”

***

Once you’d paid—or he’d paid, having levitated your purse in the air while you scowled at him—you’d dragged him over to the men’s section, where you’d found an outfit just his size with a similar color scheme.

He’d preened when you held it out to him, puffing his chest out with pride at the fact you knew his tastes so well. And in his sparkling eyes, you’d spotted a flicker of possessiveness as he looked between your clear garment bag and the clothes in his hands, not so subtly comparing the blues to each other. 

And evidently, with the way he’d refused to even try anything on before heading back to the register, he’d been satisfied. 

As you make your way back to his car, Caleb tugs you in by the waist to claim your lips in a tender kiss. 

“It’s perfect,” he breathes. “It’ll be perfect. And even though we’ll be matchin’…I get the feeling you’ll be the one people can’t look away from.”

Caleb’s hand is on the small of your back as you step through Sarah’s front door, but it leaves you as he encourages you to mingle. “Go catch up,” he urges with his signature grin. 

You know what he’s doing. What this whole thing has been. A way to push you out of your comfort zone, a prolonged apology, and a promise to be less overbearing, all in one.

He needs it just as much as you do. Needs you to know that he’s trying. So as you nod softly and make your way through the throng of laughing faces, you hope he sees you trying, too.

Sarah’s parents had both been lawyers, and if the diplomas lining the far wall of the living room didn’t make that clear enough, the sheer size of their house sure did. 

The layout is vaguely familiar—Caleb had been friends with her older brother, and you’d practically begged him to tag along on playdates so you could see the fancy house down the street. 

As you take it all in—the flat screen TVs (plural) broadcasting different channels, the iridescent streamers lining the bannisters, the variety of appetizers spread out across the first floor—you only grow more envious. 

Turning away with a petty huff, you focus on the people instead. As you study faces new and old, you wonder how many guests here brought their partners. How many know that you brought yours.

Sarah—ever the gracious host, never the gossip—had informed the attendees about Caleb’s situation in hopes that he wouldn’t be bombarded the second he stepped inside. And it was working, somehow, as far as you could tell. Aside from a few wary glances sent his way, people greeted him just like they did before: as the golden boy whose presence was a gift. 

At some point, as you’d hovered aimlessly by the drink table, a girl you remembered fondly had strolled up to you. Marley, her name was. With her lively eyes, kind smile, and eagerness to play dolls with you, she’d been your closest non-Caleb friend in the neighborhood. 

“Who would’ve thought the girl next door would grow up to be a hunter, huh?” she jokes, gently elbowing your ribs. 

“It’s really not that special,” you laugh, halfheartedly dodging her pokes. “Just something necessary, I guess, since the Wanderers came. I thought it’d be cool, high-stakes action movie stuff every day, but I kinda feel like a firefighter saving a cat from a tree sometimes.”

“Oh, please. You’re practically a superhero! Caleb, too, being a whole pilot and all. Time really flies—I still remember when he helped you set up your lemonade stand that one summer,” she giggles. “You were always so in sync.” 

“Still are,” you smile softly, gaze subconsciously finding Caleb from across the room. He's chatting in a group of his old buddies, but as always, it’s like he can sense you looking at him. His eyes find yours in an instant, as if he already knew where you were standing—because of course he did—and he shoots you a boyish wink.

“But, if you don’t mind me asking,” Marley hesitates, her eyes shifting perplexedly between you. “Are you two…together…now? You seem even closer than you were as kids, if that’s even possible,” she mutters sarcastically, talking from the side of her mouth. 

As the question hits you for the first time that night, you plaster a big, fake smile on your face. “We sure are! It was five months last week.” 

“Well, congrats, I guess,” she tries to exclaim, but her confusion stunts her sincerity. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s just…I never expected you guys would date! You always seemed more like…ah…friends,” she cringes, her own fake smile twitching slightly.

Friends.

As the word fights its way out of her mouth, likely beating several less polite alternatives, the weight of her hesitance is not lost on you.

“Friends, huh?” you echo, and your smile is real this time. A show of your teeth, a hint that she’s just entered dangerous waters. “What kind of friends grow up in the same house, Marley? Raised by the same person, and all. Pretty rare if you ask me,” you cock your head in mock contemplation. “C’mon, what do you really mean to say?”

You’d been taught well. 

“Okay, okay!” she huffs, folding like a lawn chair under the pressure. “I always thought you were like siblings. Thought you guys thought you were like siblings. I’m just surprised, is all.”

“There’s nothing to be surprised about,” you nod curtly. “You lived next door, not with us. You don’t know how we felt about each other.”

Your voice is robotic as you meet her with a deadened stare. No matter how much you’d expected it, no matter how much you’d prepared, the judgment catches you off guard. 

The rumors, the gossip—it’s one reason you thought Caleb would decline the invite. To protect you, if nothing else. But with a bitter, inward laugh, you guess that him trying means letting you be in situations you might’ve begged him to shield you from.

“I need some air,” you decide suddenly, interrupting Marley’s frantic apologies to turn toward the door. “It was nice catching up.” 

A cool breeze kisses your exposed skin as you watch the fireflies blink from the patio. And as beautiful as they are, glittering in the night sky, there are other things on your mind at the moment.

If Caleb was ever a brother to you, he was the best brother anyone ever had.

You’d seen the way your friends acted with their brothers. Always kept a watchful eye on their interactions, as if comparing their relationships to yours. Middle school, high school, college.

And over all those years, no brother had ever been as attentive—as doting, as patient, as loving—as Caleb. 

After the explosion, when you were left to deal with your feelings alone—no nagging, oversized puppy to distract you—you’d pondered how you saw him. Deep down, under the structure and order and propriety that was forced upon you too young. Regretted that it was too late to ask him how he saw you. 

And if those quiet nights crying so hard it felt like drowning had taught you anything, it was this: as much as Caleb was brotherly, he had always been more—so much more than what he had to be to you.

He could’ve shut himself in his room for hours, leaving you to fend for yourself. He could’ve ghosted you the minute you no longer went to the same school. Could’ve found a girlfriend, had kids early, and moved his real family far away from you. All these things, you’d seen happen.

But through it all, Caleb had stayed, and he’d done it with his signature smile. Even when you’d worried he’d outgrown you, had outpaced you with his stellar achievements, he’d just pinched your cheek with a fond grin. Who d’ya think I do all that for, silly? he’d laughed. 

By your reunion, when he’d stared down at you so cruelly, you’d known what he was to you. The only man you’d ever loved, in all meanings of the phrase. That’s why it had hurt so much. 

And Caleb had scared you off. Your feelings were fragile, only newly realized. But his…were developed. Intense. More intense than you were ready for, coming from someone who’d been off-limits for 15 years. 

So you’d resisted. Resisted his spiraling admissions, resisted the feelings you knew he had for you, resisted his frantic attempts to steal you from the world. 

It would take time for you to accept a love like his. You’d told him as much five months ago—that you needed to meet in the middle. And he’d promised to try. 

As the days went by, you got used to treating him like a lover. To putting new meanings behind every touch. And every time you kissed him, he carved out more of his own paradise in your mind, escaping the liminal area he’d occupied in unfulfilling restraint. 

It was only in moments like this when prying eyes and hushed whispers wore you down. People who thought that, because they knew you once—for a summer, for a semester, for a school year—they knew who you were and how you felt. But there was something paradoxically mercurial about you and Caleb: the more you stayed the same, the more you changed. And only the two of you were privy to it. 

Even still, some leers and questions got to you, just as they had tonight. Apprehension and a resented sense of shame had filled your gut, as if you’d been “caught” stealing from your own wallet. 

But of all the things Caleb was to you, only one mattered: he was yours. And as a firefly lands on your outstretched palm, twinkling beautifully in the darkness that threatens it, you know no one can take that from you. 

Caleb had had better nights. 

He’d had worse, for sure—agony and loneliness come to mind—but he’d definitely had better. 

He’s spent this one mingling among the names he hadn’t cared to remember, all as an attempt to show you he won’t cage you in. You can have fun, have friends outside of him, as much as the thought makes his stomach churn. 

And what better way to start than with people he already knew? Baby steps.

As he cranes his neck to find you again (which shouldn’t be hard, since he just has to look for the one dressed like him), he vaguely registers an incessant buzz of a voice talking his ear off. Jared, he calls himself. 

“Anyway, I can’t believe you did that to her. That’s fucked up, man,” the voice says, clapping Caleb’s back with an obnoxious chortle. 

And as much as he needs to find you, Caleb really wishes he’d spared some of his attention for the homunculus beside him. 

“What exactly are you implying?” he asks lowly, lifting the hand from his shoulder with a firmness that any sober person would find threatening. 

He’s almost certain you’re not in the room, now, your calming presence lost in the sea of discarded memories. Alarms sound in his head at the realization, only to be drowned out by something more damning.

“It’s just…you grew up together! Had the same grandma. That's like your sister, dude. But you know what, to each their own. The way she looks, I can’t say I would've held myself back any better than you did. Probably worse, man. Matter of fact, you fucked her y—?”

The force of Caleb’s Evol clamps Jared’s mouth shut.

And, if his muffled yelp is any indication, hopefully breaks a few of his teeth, their bloodied chips settling on his tongue.

“This sorry excuse for a conversation is over. Leave. Now. And if I see you talking to her on your way out, I’ll make sure you never get the chance to again.”

Jared nods fearfully, and after one last snarl, Caleb lifts his Evol, albeit begrudgingly. It takes Jared a few seconds to notice his newfound freedom, but the moment he does, he’s scurrying out of the house. Good. 

You’re back in Caleb’s sight, now. But as he takes in your shy smile, the faint melody of your laughter filling his keen ears, he doesn’t feel the comfort he normally would. 

Instead, he feels his dog tag. 

Your precious gift to him. A symbol of how you needed him, of your anticipation that he’d always be in your life. Of his hope that one day, you’d return his feelings. 

He recalls the once comfortable weight, the way his body heat would flow into the cool metal, linking it to him in a warm embrace. 

The chain now burns against his throat.

Jared had been brash.

Crude, crass, and certainly cocky, thinking he was deserving of you. 

So as Caleb watches you chat among a mixed group of guests, swirling his full cup in agitation, he decides he doesn’t care about the delivery. It’s the content that troubles him. 

Because Jared, in his drunken state, had managed to hit a nerve Caleb had tried to sever five months ago. 

Are you sure you want this? he’d asked you shakily. Want it from me? With me?

And in clear confirmation, you’d claimed his first kiss.

But even still, the thoughts lingered at the back of his brain. That he was tainting you, taking advantage of you, stealing your life away. 

He knows Jared isn’t worth the scum beneath his shoe, but those unsavory thoughts made his own worries resurface. 

And as fickle as his mind was, he’d only ever known to trust it. 

So when Caleb sees you beam at another man’s compliment, glowing like you’d been sent from heaven itself, he feels like maybe he’d been right.

For the rest of the night, Caleb dreaded the drive home. Luckily, you’d slept for most of the way back. 

But as he parks outside your building, gently rousing you from your sleep, the feeling returns in full force. 

“Good morning,” you giggle, stretching drowsily. “Sorry I fell asleep on you—I can’t remember the last time I talked that much. Did you have fun?” 

“Something like that,” he says, popping the driver’s door open. “You?”

“I did, I think,” you start, opening your own side and sliding out of his car. “I really did. It was a little rough at first, but it got better. What about you? Anybody try to stab your brains out? Since you’re undead and all.” 

He chuckles dryly. “Not exactly.”

As you trudge toward your apartment, Caleb trails behind you. You’re so dazed, you almost don’t notice it. But you miss the familiar warmth of his left hand.

Your tired fingers quiver as you fail to unlock your door, and with a gentle nudge, Caleb slides the key in for you. 

Mumbling a “thank you,” you step through the doorway, making space for him to follow. When he doesn’t, you turn to face him, frowning lightly in confusion. Gleaming in the moonlight, the metal threshold separates your feet: yours on the inside, his on the outside. 

“I’ve been called back to Skyhaven. It’s nothing too serious, but I’ll have to cut this visit short. Don’t worry about me.”

The words pierce your chest like a dagger, but his cold delivery twists the knife.

“Oh,” you breathe, not knowing what to do or where to look or how to hide your disappointment. “I didn’t know they had any way of contacting you. Your communicator’s still in my nightstand, you know,” you quip lamely. “But I guess four days has to be enough this time. I’m lucky to have gotten that.”

Smiling weakly, you lean in to kiss him. But with his sudden reservation, the moment is more chaste than you’d intended. 

As he starts to turn away, you instinctively grab his hand. “Are you…is everything okay? You’re being weird,” you whisper, eyes searching him in concern. 

“No I’m not,” he retorts, forcing life back into his voice. The weight of his hand ruffling your hair feels wrong, somehow, and his airy tone is a contrast to the darkness in his gaze. “Get some rest, pip-squeak.”

Caleb never thought the jewelry box you’d left at his place would come in handy. 

He had no use for it—the only piece he truly needed to preserve stayed looped around his neck at all times. 

But as he stares at the silver chain hung carefully on a hook, its ruby-crested apple dangling in the evening sunlight, he silently thanks you for your forgetfulness. 

It’s been two days since he returned to Skyhaven, but the events of that night remain fresh wounds in a fragile mind. 

I can’t believe you did that to her.

I can’t believe you did that to her.

To you. Not with.

As if his love was an assault. 

All his life, Caleb had tried to show you only the good sides of him. To tamper down his intensities so you’d eat from his palm. You were a skittish thing, failed one too many times by an inadequate world. So he’d approached you gently, practicing docility until it became second nature. To keep his eager hands from defiling you. 

He’d molded himself into whoever you needed him to be, never admitting what he wanted to be to you. All so you would tolerate him, want to keep him around for his services, if nothing else. Because as much as he claimed to protect you, your safety was his anchor. If you were loved, warm, and unharmed—if he kept you that way—then every consequence was worth it. 

He’d learned to live like a chameleon, his temperament matching your mood. And as much as a forgotten part of him yearned for identity, it was a role he’d settled into playing—until his weakened back had snapped under the pressure. 

When you’d confessed that you felt the same—that you loved him in more ways than the one you should—he’d deluded himself into thinking those years of restraint were over. That he could stop watching over you and start walking with you. That you would fall from propriety hand in hand. 

He’d never thought himself naive. Always launched himself ahead of the curve so that would never be an option for him. Naive was something someone with his responsibility couldn’t afford to be. 

But now, as his lifeline swings back and forth on its new perch, jingling with what could only be mockery, the feeling swallows Caleb whole. 

It would’ve killed him to see you with someone else. He’d had nightmares about it every month, save for the last five, ever since he was a teenager. But even if you chose to live with someone else by your side…at least he would have gotten to see you do it. To watch you be happy, carefree, without you wondering if it was your right to be. Without the guilt of robbing your life from you, tainting your purity with his sin.

He knew you were wary. You’d gotten better about it—at hiding it, at least—but he could still feel the panicked clench of your hand in his when someone looked at you too long. You were trying, for him, just as he tried for you. But if trying meant the unfiltered scrutiny that Jared had spewed could one day reach you, it wasn’t worth it, he decided. 

You deserved more than the headache he’d give you. 

***

The days drag on. 

Caleb’s vacation ends as little more than purgatory, and when he dons his Colonel uniform once more, the Fleet’s affairs feel his presence now more than ever. 

He’s sharper now, meaner. Mistakes that would usually earn a light slap on the wrist now end in termination. Figurative or literal, the recruits aren’t sure. 

He knows he’s spiraling. He hears the whispers: “The Colonel’s finally lost it” met with “As if he ever had it.” But rebuke from any voice but yours doesn’t reach him. 

During flights, he plays his missions a little less safe, making rash decisions sure to end in incident, eventually. He justifies it, in his head, by thinking that maybe an injury would inflict upon him the suffering he deserves. 

He’s been drifting, lately. Through the hallways, through the streets, through space. 

But aimless as he is, Caleb can’t bring himself to desert you completely. Those 15 years of gentle servitude had become so ingrained in him, he thinks a total cutoff would only make him more reckless. So he pacifies you with brief, polite answers, sharing none of his usual charm and emoticons. This flighty, diluted version of himself was all that he could offer. 

But each day, when Caleb stumbles back into the necessary solitude of his house, wheezing with overexertion, he heads straight to the hidden room where you’d discovered his bionic arm. Where, under dark wooden panels, a row of monitors hide. 

Their feeds are clear as they’ve always been. Your cubicle, your route home, your front door, your kitchen. Your bedroom. 

And until he succumbs to exhaustion, Caleb watches you. 

Watches you sift through reports, eyes open but unseeing. 

Watches you stumble on the way home, your foot catching on a stray root that he would’ve spotted in time. 

Watches you crumble, after a while, and curl up on the side of your bed where he always slept. 

Watches until the rhythmic rocks of your crying body lull you to sleep in place of his heartbeat.

As the clock strikes midnight, you complete your count to 23.

It’s been 23 days since you’d received anything more than a one-word response from Caleb. 

At first, you’d given him grace—thought he just wasn’t feeling well. He was always one to withdraw from you when sick, locking himself away for a while before emerging like nothing happened. 

But even then, he was never this curt with you. He always reassured you that he was okay.

Days passed, and the mysterious illness theory flew out the window. As you fired off another concerned text, all but pleading for him to say something, you wondered if he was mad at you—but what could you have done? Not to mention that when he was mad at you, it usually ended with him apologizing, somehow. It’s always Caleb’s fault, huh? he’d cooed at you, rubbing your back tenderly. I’m sorry, baby. 

Something was just…wrong. Terribly, scarily wrong. And whatever it was, you had to figure it out alone.

With a frustrated growl, you snatch your phone up from its place on your nightstand and scroll to your latest messages, hoping he’s decided to take you out of time-out. 

you: hi. i know you’re probably sick of me asking, but can you call when you get a chance? haven’t heard your voice in a while.

>:( : later.

Nothing. He was giving you absolutely nothing.

You want to scream. Want to hunt him down, grab him by the collar, and thrash him around for being so difficult. But as your gaze flits to the photo on your desk—a silly selfie you’d taken on your first official date—your heart constricts from how badly miss him. 

You miss him so desperately that the pain in your chest is worse than when he left for college. At least you’d known he would come back to you, then.  

As hot tears well in your eyes—far from the first time—you remember the words he’d written to you once, never intending for you to read them: “Any man who makes you cry isn't worth your time,” you repeat, snorting softly at the irony.

But unluckily for him, Caleb wasn't any man.

Any man wouldn't braid your hair from childhood to now, never teaching you to do it yourself because he wasn’t willing to give up doing it. Any man wouldn't skip the senior trip he’d saved hundreds for just to nurse you through a stomach bug. Any man wouldn't dedicate half his life to making sure yours was painless. 

So no, Caleb wasn’t any man. He was smart, skilled, and devoted. He was reliable, doting, and selfishly self-sacrificing. He was the reason you’d grown up so well, always wanting to make him proud. And he was yours.

Tugging harshly at the roots of your hair—a habit he’d always tried to break—you pace around your bedroom like a frenzied animal.

You were going to go to him, that much was obvious. To ambush him and make him explain what you’d done for him to discard you like this. To apologize, if he’d hear it. 

But how, if he wouldn’t give you the time of day? The man lived in a giant sky fortress, for God’s sake. And with his neverending suspicions, it wasn’t like he trusted any other members of the Fleet enough to give you their contact informati—

Except, you interrupt yourself, freezing mid-step. He did.

Liam.

Caleb’s faithful adjutant, the one you’d spoken to—or spoken at, while he looked at you unnervingly—just a handful of times.

Sometimes, bad ideas are the only ones available.

Retrieving your phone from where it lies face down on your rumpled blanket, you scroll and scroll to the bottom of your contact list, where Liam’s name stares back at you forebodingly. 

Steeling yourself with a shaky nod, you press call and wait with bated breath. He answers on the second ring. 

“Miss, may I ask why you’re calling? Are you in any trouble?” his deep, dispassionate voice, devoid of any true concern, rings out.

You swallow thickly before trusting your voice enough to sound as anything more than a pitiful squeak. “I-I have Caleb’s communicator,” you maneuver skillfully despite your nerves. “He left it at my apartment. Can you take me to him? So I can give it back.”

“You’d be better off turning it in to one of our administrators. The Colonel is very busy right now and—”

“Take me to him, please,” you repeat stubbornly, raised voice echoing off ivory drywall. 

“Miss, I'm only allowed to speak with you if you’re in immediate danger. I'm under strict orders not to facilitate any interaction with the Colonel.”

He’s going to hang up soon, you panic. And then your only chance is gone. 

A flare of anger heats your skin as you realize you don’t have an appointment to see your own boyfriend. The one who can pester you and break your boundaries with a barely apologetic smile, but shuts you out the second you try to do the same.

Channeling your tears from earlier—they still line your eyes, after all—you sniffle into the speaker. Desperate times… 

“What do you think will happen when I tell him you made me cry? You won’t be under any orders anymore,” you bait him quietly, relying on the fragile hope that Caleb was still as fiercely protective of you as he’d been before. 

The pregnant pause on the other line tells you you’d succeeded. “I…” he clears his throat. “Please arrive at the Skyhaven airport at your earliest convenience. I'll be there to take you to the Colonel.”

When Liam’s aircraft lands on the familiar floating island, you rush out with a muttered “thanks” and jam your thumb onto the sensor.

But as the doors slide open and you stomp inside, the silence you’re met with tells you Caleb isn’t home. 

Sighing heavily, you survey your surroundings: the spotless kitchen, barren like it hadn’t been used in weeks; the dust collecting on his most-used surfaces; the tray on the coffee table, missing its usual array of apples. Had he been eating? Had he been coming here at all?

Your worries carry you through the other rooms, but none hold the answers to your questions. 

And as you step into his bedroom, the place you were most likely to find a clue, you wish you hadn’t. 

Because there, hanging tauntingly on a familiar looking jewelry box, is Caleb’s dog tag. The chain he never went without. 

The ache in your chest becomes a gaping void. 

Blood rushes to your ears and makes them ring so loudly that you can’t hear the despondent noise you make. On unsteady feet, you lurch farther into the room and lower your trembling body onto the mattress. 

As you stare at the mahogany jewelry box, looming mockingly on the dresser, you think the walls spin around you. 

In all the years you’d known Caleb, he had never been one to just give up—so what about you was so condemnable that it finally made him?

He wasn’t here to answer. 

So you take the chain for what it is: resignation. Eviction. 

It feels like you shouldn’t be here anymore. Like you’re an intruder in a sacred space. Like maybe you shouldn’t have even made it in, but he just hadn’t had the time to axe your thumbprint from the system yet. 

You need to leave. That much is clear. But here, stranded in the sky, you don’t exactly have a getaway plan. 

Without the leverage of Caleb’s love, you doubt Liam would take too kindly to being threatened again, just hours after the first time. 

As fruitless minutes tick by, it’s clear that waiting is your only option. But as you curl up in the center of the bed, chest heaving with labored breaths, you no longer anticipate Caleb’s return. 

When your eyes blink open in the dead of night, you know he’s there before you see him.

The air in the room feels different. Heavy and charged, like just before a thunderstorm. 

Anything could happen when you face him. But he’s deprived you of so much lately, that at least something would. 

Shoving the thought to the front of your mind for motivation, you raise your head to find him in the darkness of the room, lit only by a lone streetlight. 

And the sight of him makes your stomach drop.

Caleb, uniform torn and tattered, slumps against the wall closest to the bed, eyes closed and head lowered. 

A smear of blood paints his cheek, and as you zero in on it, you notice the eyebags so dark they look like bruises. Like he hasn’t slept in days. 

But even with his eyes closed, you should know by now that you don’t have the time to ogle him.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he whispers hoarsely. 

“Where else would I go?” 

And those violet irises find yours. 

“Do you regret it? That you have nowhere else to go?” he asks softly, bloodshot gaze searching your huddled form. Checking, like he always did. 

No is your immediate answer. But you figure you should ask him first. That way, when you say it, he might actually believe you. “What?”

“Do you regret what I’ve done to you?” he elaborates, voice dropping near the end. 

The explanation doesn’t help. “What have you done to me, Caleb?”

He winces at the phrasing, though he knows it’s not an accusation. 

Cocking his head cynically, he lets a hollow chuckle escape. “I shouldn’t have pushed you to go to that party. Guess that’s what I get for trying.” 

“What are you talking about?” you probe, shifting to the edge of the bed. “What’s wrong with you?” 

“What’s wrong with me,” he mimics, “is that I’m trying to stay away from you. For your own sake.” 

“You weren’t there to see it. Hung up in another room, or outside, or something. It was the only time I lost sight of you,” he recalls bitterly. “And this guy started mouthin’ off about how fucked it was for us to be together. Said I was sick for the things I must’ve done to you.” 

A sliver of understanding eases the tension in your muscles. But you need to hear it from him. “And you believed him?” you ask, eyeing him warily. 

“It wasn't him who I had to believe. I already knew. Have known, for a while now, no matter how much I tried to pretend I didn’t. The way I thought my hands deserved to touch you—it’s a sin, isn’t it? One you shouldn’t have to carry. That’s why I left—so you could live a life unburdened by me.” 

At his words, an all too familiar irritation stirs within you. Alongside sadness that he’d thought it best to feel this way alone. 

Pushing forcefully off the bed, you kneel between his knees, gripping his bloodied face between your hands. “Who said you had permission to leave?” you ask lowly, and you hear his voice in yours. 

“I asked you what happened that night,” you continue. “More than once. And I'd have listened if you told me. Would’ve been there to tell you that none of it mattered. But you said it was nothing—another way to protect me, I guess. And then you left me on my doorstep, wondering how I’d hurt you.” 

Caleb’s mouth drops slightly, but you don’t let him interrupt. “When you said you would try, you overlooked one thing. Part of trying is considering how I feel. Like when I saw your necklace—how do you think I felt? I thought…you didn’t want me anymore. That you’d decided I was too big a burden for you,” you breathe, and when your voice breaks at the end, Caleb covers your hands with his.

“If your sin involves me, you don’t get to live through it alone. You pulled away from me without wondering if I wanted to be complicit. If I wanted to share it with you. You don’t get to make me a victim without asking if I feel like one. And I never have.”

He freezes at that, gazing up at you imploringly. When he finds what he’s looking for, he turns his head slightly, lips brushing your wrist in a hesitant kiss. “I know—” he swallows. “I know you feel ashamed sometimes. Of being with me, now, when I was who I was to you. Even if you don’t want to be, when we go out together, I can feel it.”

“You’re right,” you nod simply, and he fails to stifle a choked gasp. “But I don’t let it change anything.”

Now, it’s Caleb’s turn to ask. “What do you mean?”

“Remember Marley?” you start softly, stroking his tousled hair. “Girl I used to play dolls with when you were too busy? She asked about us, too. And I told her the truth: we’re together, and we’re happy, and our story is ours. It’s not just your choice, Caleb. I’m with you because I want the same. I always have.” 

And as much as you know he wants to believe it, to accept it and move on, things were never that simple with him. 

“You don’t understand,” he murmurs shakily, returning your hands to your lap as if they’ve burned him. “I can't…I've only ever wanted to keep you safe. No matter who I had to be to you. And when you let me have you—how I want to, how I’d wanted to…I wasn’t strong enough to turn you away. I’m not strong enough to do what’s best for you,” he whispers with glistening eyes.

Slowly, gently, you reach out to him a second time. To splay a hand on his exposed chest, to get him used to the feeling of your touch again. 

“I’m sorry you feel that way,” you murmur, stroking your thumb against him. “Because I think you’re very strong.” 

“I thought you were strong when you saved me from those bullies in middle school. Still remember the black eyes you gave them. When I saw that…I thought you were a hero. And I wanted to be just like you.” Pausing, you lean down to kiss his collarbone, and though he shudders, you take his pleading gaze as a sign to continue. 

“I thought you were strong when Gran got really sick, and you had to do everything. Cooking, cleaning, taking me to school. And you did it with a smile.” Giving him one of your own, you cradle his flushed face in your hands, stroking his darkening cheeks tenderly. Violet eyes watch you with disbelief—a reflection of six months ago, when you’d entrusted your first kiss to him. 

“And when you kissed me back that first time? When I felt how much you wanted to, how you kept it bottled up inside you for so long—I thought you were so strong,” you whisper, mouth hovering over his. “You’ve always been strong, Caleb. It’s why I love you so much.”

In time with his sharp inhale, you press your lips to his. But as large hands flex against your sides, he doesn’t respond to your touch. 

So you press harder, deeper, as if your kiss will awaken what’s dormant within him: his molten, unabashed need for you. The need that holds purity in its paradox, even if he doesn’t know it yet.

And when you circle your hand around his throat, where his necklace once collared him in your name, Caleb kisses you back. 

It’s an exploratory kiss, but a passionate one. As if your reacquainted lips are making up for lost time. 

You guide him with the steady suction of your lips, and when you tug at his frayed lapel, Caleb takes the lead. 

His tongue surges into your mouth, reclaiming what he’d missed, and you moan at the welcome intrusion. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, backing away slightly. “Sometimes I just wonder…if you’d be better off without me.” 

“I wouldn't,” you soothe, pulling him in for a reassuring peck. “You’re a part of me. I want you wherever I am, whichever version of you will have me.”

“All of them,” he mumbles against you. “And then some.”

And as you slip his hand under your shirt, there’s no reluctance in his tender grasp. Like he belongs there. 

Soft strokes on your bare shoulder wake you as the sun rises. 

“I missed seein’ you like this,” murmurs the voice you’d missed just as much. 

“And whose fault is that?” you chide, cutting your eyes to glare up at him playfully. 

“Mine,” he concedes instantly. “All mine.”

“Mhm. Speaking of,” you begin, stepping out of bed gingerly. “If you’re going to be my Caleb, there’s one more thing you need to do. Close your eyes,” you instruct. 

And Caleb complies—something that’s come easy the past six months. 

The room is silent for a moment, with only the distant sounds of jet planes piercing the air. 

Then, a soft clink. 

And as the mattress dips with your return to him, Caleb lifts his head instinctively. And the cool surface of metal slips around his neck. 

As Caleb spares you a glance from the passenger’s seat, the apple charm on his dog tag glints in the sunlight. 

Row after row of familiar houses comes into view, but you seem calm, this time. Unburdened. 

With some compliments and exaggerated enthusiasm, Sarah had been more than happy to host another party. And you’d been more than patient as you’d encouraged Caleb to attend. 

He’d been cautious, at first, for obvious reasons. But you didn’t dare push. 

So as the date loomed closer, he’d decided to try. 

And when you cross the threshold hand in hand to a sea of curious faces, the tension he expects to compress his pulsing heart never comes.

Instead, something kinder blossoms: pure, weightless pride.

[drvyn]

This is an amazing piece worth reading. I believe that in the fandom there has been a lot of discourse around Caleb and his relationship with us concerning the adopted brother-sister set up. And while there have been different concepts to think and go about it, I feel that we have not discussed enough what others think of it. Sure, we can argue that MC and Caleb have never really been siblings but how were they perceived? Adopted by the same person, living under the same roof, gege and meimei (yes, used not just for siblings but considering the fact we even discuss it, is this ambiguity not deliberate?)... Other people do not know and understand their past and the extent of their relationship; hence, they would condemn romantic love between them. The relationship carries this piece of sin, restraint, things unsaid and undone because there is the awareness about how it looks like from the 3rd person point of view. So, I am very happy to see this point being told and presented!

[neigepomme]

a concept i might elaborate on is acting a little helpless with some tasks after realizing that caleb really likes it when you rely on him

you're living on your own, so you're capable of handling yourself (much to caleb's dismay — he wants to do everything for you). after noticing him sulking a bit, you half jokingly say "feed me?" while you're at the dinner table, and you could swear caleb's eyes lit up. of course he'll feed you!!

and so, it became a bit of a ritual for him to feed you at least a few bites. he especially likes it when you're sitting between his legs, your back to his chest when watching a movie, and he pops some chips and candy in your mouth while you absentmindedly chew. it makes him feel useful..

[drvyn]

I am such a sucker for domestic Caleb and all the soft ideas around his life with us; short, long stories, does not matter because I will put on the most soft devastating music with it and bawl my eyes out. He just makes me feel so... touched for the better lack of a word. Genuinely feels like that is how life and love is just supposed to be.

[sylusxyou]

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ 𝒔𝒚𝒍𝒖𝒔 𝒕𝒆𝒙𝒕𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕𝒔 . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

𝒑𝒕. 1 | 2 | 3

𝒃𝒐𝒏𝒖𝒔! 𝒍𝒖𝒌𝒆 & 𝒌𝒊𝒆𝒓𝒂𝒏

[neigepomme]

˙ ✩°˖ ✈️ gravitational meet-cute / caleb x reader

synopsis; when you take your 2nd graders to skyhaven university for an activity aiming to teach them about space and gravity, you don't expect the faceless professor xia on the website to be a cute guy around your age, instead of an old man. as it turns out gravity isn't the only force that's irresistible around here, his charm is, too.

🍎 pomme's notes — caleb flirts with you in front of your class for nearly two thousand words basically :9

✴︎ 1.8k words / fluff / 2nd person & fem! reader — additional notes: reader is a 2nd grade teacher & has no evol, i gave the kids random names, caleb is a prodigy in the aerospace engineering field, reader & caleb are in their early thirties!

the kids in the school bus are buzzing excitedly when skyhaven university's towering buildings come into sight, and you can only helplessly ask them to remain tightly in their seat until the bus reaches its destination.

to be fair though, you can't exactly blame them. they're getting to go to the "big kids school", and they're gonna learn about space — something far too big for their little selves to understand yet. how cool is that!?

"noah, olivia and kai! sit down right now, or else all three of you are gonna stick by me the whole time we're there! everyone, this applies to you as well!"

with a resounding "yes miss!" the kids finally settle down and give you some time to gather your thoughts prior to getting off the bus. this was a big day for your kids, even though you were out of it.

just the week before, you were drinking yourself silly and lamenting your bachelorette life, and your best friend, tara (who just so happened to be the school secretary), had the incredible idea of signing your class up for an activity at skyhaven university to distract you.

"come on, it'll be fun! you love seeing the kids discover new things and get this — you won't even be the one teaching! just think of it as a break. besides, who knows, maybe professor xia is a hottie!"

"tara, the average age for aerospace engineers is like.. 70. professor xia's probably just a decrepit old man — his picture isn't even on the website! i bet you he's too old to even figure out how to upload it."

"you won't know unless you go, though! it doesn't matter anyways, your class is signed up already, so just have fun with it!"

so here you were, "having fun with it", otherwise known as watching over 30 overly excited children. thankfully, the driver pulls into the university's designated lot — though not without some squeals and giggles from the class. after disembarking and doing a headcount, you clear your throat in order to grab their attention.

"one, two, three! eyes on me!"

and in unison, all 30 students responded, "one, two! eyes on you!"

it was a cute call and response you'd learned from one of your mentors some years ago, and it got them attentive and ready to listen to your directions quickly — only this time, another sound cut through the silence, a whistle followed by a chuckle.

"woah! i'll have to use that on my own students, that sure was effective."

when you turn to face the voice, you're met with a handsome smile from an even more handsome man. a TA, maybe? before you can ask him who he is, the brunette seems to sense your confusion and beats you to the punch, introducing himself to you and your class with a dynamic expression.

"all right, kiddos, it's nice to meet all of you! i'm professor xia, but that makes me sound old, doesn't it? you can call me mr. caleb!"

there's no way tara was right. what happened to the decrepit old man you were envisioning? surely, there was a mistake. one of the little girls in your class quickly pulled you out of your thoughts, raising her hand and asking this.. too young of a professor a question.

"how come you teach at the big kids school? you're not even an old man! you're like miss teacher!"

right. 2nd graders' questions. you pinch the bridge of your nose, ready to apologize, but instead it seems like caleb finds it very humorous, throwing his head back and laughing before squatting down to your kids' eye level and explaining himself.

"yeah? i'm super smart, so i skipped a few grades and started teaching here after i retired as a pilot! how cool is that?"

a choir of ooh's and aah's emerged from the children, and caleb got up before pulling out his faculty card and handing it to you with a subtle wink.

"just so you know i'm the right guy."

judging from his ID, it looks like he wasn't lying — caleb xia, one of the professors in the aerospace engineering department of skyhaven university. you flash him a smile before introducing yourself. after caleb gives both you and your class a quick rundown of today's activity, you get the kids to line up in two rows and follow caleb like ducklings into an empty auditorium. trailing behind to make sure none of them got lost in the halls, you pull out your phone and send a quick "fuck he's hot i owe you a drink girl" text to tara.

the kids were in awe at how cool mr. caleb was, and you were in awe at how calm they were. you're a good teacher, and your kids love you, but that took a bit of work, due to how rowdy they were. caleb on the other hand? it came to him too naturally — to the point where you felt a pang of silly jealousy. you'd have to copy some of his mannerisms with the class.

however, admiring his prowess with the kids, quickly turned into something more. your eyes landed on his face, and his cute freckles and bright smile while he interacted with the children made your heart swoon. his purple eyes were so expressive, and you could almost get lost in them — and if you did? you'd rather not be found. lowering your gaze a bit, you end up admiring his well-built physique, until you could feel a tiny index finger poking your arm.

looking to your right, one of the three troublemakers on the bus, olivia, was grinning at you, with a mischievous expression on her face.

"miss.. do you think mr. caleb is handsome?" she whispered.

you almost choke on your spit, and you can't help the faint warmth on your face when you tell her to focus on what the brunette at the front is saying.

"pleaaaase, i promise i'll listen after this!!" she begs with a lip jutted out, and you can't resist those puppy eyes. damn 2nd graders.

"you — fine! i think he's handsome, now go back to listening!"

olivia beams and quickly turns to the front, but not before whispering about her newfound discovery to her two partners in crime, noah and kai. somehow, this didn't look too good for you right now.

sighing, you focus your own attention to caleb — only to be met with his eyes looking at you already. there's no way he heard, unless he has the greatest ears mankind has ever seen. right?

"miss teacher! would you mind help me demonstrating how gravity works for the kids?"

his tone is playful, and his expression inviting, so you find yourself getting up from your seat to join him on the small stage. presenting both of his hands to you, he winks again, and you can feel butterflies in your stomach. somehow you can't figure out if it's out of anticipation for the demonstration or if it's because caleb looks so cute right now.

"if you could hold both of my hands tightly, please. it's for science, no ulterior motives," and more quietly, only for you to hear, he adds, "or maybe just a tiny bit of ulterior motives."

ignoring the kids' gasps and squeals at their teacher holding hands with the good-looking professor, caleb begins to explain gravity in simple terms.

"you guys are anchored to the ground because of this thing called gravity. it's a super strong and invisible force that pulls things towards each other, and right now, the earth is pulling you towards its center!"

suddenly you feel your feet lift off the ground, and with a gasp, your grasp on caleb's hands tighten. you look into his eyes, and you're met with a smile.

"i have a super cool power though — a gravity evol. right now, i'm making it so that miss teacher is no longer affected by the earth's gravity. how cool is that!?"

you can only laugh at the 2nd graders' amazed reactions, varying from "my turn", "that's so cool", "i want a superpower too" and "miss teacher is blushing". he slowly lowers you back down, but once your feet touch the floor again, you stagger a bit, and he moves a hand to your waist to stabilize you with a soft chuckle and a "zero gravity does that to you sometimes." caleb walks you to your seat before turning to face the kids' expectant faces and speaking.

"if you all come to the front — without running! — and link your arms together, i'll make you all float for a bit too! go, go, go, captain caleb's airline is about to take flight!"

with excited yells, all the students hold onto each other tightly — and when caleb makes use of his evol to make them float around for a few minutes, their laughter is filling your ears, making you laugh along. when he lowers them back onto the ground, it's almost time to return to school, and so ensues the QnA section of the activity. after caleb answers a few questions related to space and gravity, kai looks at olivia and noah before raising his hand.

"mr. caleb! do you think miss teacher is pretty?"

noah doubles down, and with a cute yet failed attempt at whispering, he lets caleb know that "it's a secret, but miss teacher thinks you're handsome!"

so that was what olivia was up to. that's why she was whispering and exchanging knowing smiles with them. you're about to intervene and save the brunette from this awkward situation before he hums and places a hand underneath his chin, as if pondering the situation.

much to your surprise though, he squats down to the kids' level, before gesturing at all of them to come close, like he's about to reveal a secret too. with a voice loud enough for you specifically to hear, he gives the kids a wink.

"this is a secret between all of us, okay? i think she's the prettiest woman i've ever seen. and this is top top top secret, but i'm gonna ask her out on a date after this. don't tell her!"

he looks over his shoulder, meeting your gaze with a smile and you can see the tips of his ears turning a soft crimson hue. he laughs at your flustered expression and red cheeks — all while your 2nd graders squealed and shook with excitement.

and now, here you were — riding the bus again with all all 30 of your rowdy kids, but instead of solely smiling at the songs they sang on the way back to school, you were also smiling at caleb's new messages on your screen.

— hey sweets. are you gravity? — because i feel a force pulling me towards you :P  — is saturday good for you? i'll pick you up at 7!

you really owed tara a drink after this. and you owed your class a pizza party.

🍎 pomme's final notes — i gave myself baby fever with this fic oh how i love the concept of caleb interacting with kids.. also this is just. caleb flirting and being playful. live laugh love loverboys. also if any 2nd graders feel poorly represented get off my damn blog

hey.. tagging those who were interested in this bad boy... love u guys….. — @abyssyby @codedove @30jades @shewrites247 @cantaloupewatch @vesearlee @iloveh4nge @philosians

[drvyn]

Mission accomplished, Captain Rosalyne out 🫡

[m7ku]

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ ୨୧‧₊˚✧ don't go into a cave please

cws: just crack, i've been watching a lot of cave diving videos lately, this came out more.. patronizing(?) than I meant for it to

taglist: @m00nchildwrites, @venussakura, @hys-hyangshine, @i-messed-up-big-time, @itxff, @yourlocalcatscammer, @sayoko-ou, @umamaki, @valleydoli taglist application

you and caleb lie together in bed, the day closing out and turning to night. you watch videos on your ipad before bed most night, your “ipad time” as you call it, and your algorithm is usually the same, video games that you’re into, shows that you like, new movies that you might want to see, some pop culture stuff, but one of those cave diving videos pops up and you watch the whole thing. it scares the piss out of you because it seems like it’s gotta be one of the worst ways to die and the absolute worst way to lose someone that you care about, and it isn’t long before you’re crying at the notion of something so unthinkable. “caleb,” you cry, frantically tapping on his shoulders and not caring that he was dozing off in bed—tired from his previous patrols. you wake him up anyway. 

“what’s wrong? what happened, baby?” his eyes blow wide, and he wakes up startled by you. He looks around the bedroom, as if to search for any sign of danger, worried palms gripping your thighs to secure you too him.  

"caleb, you have to promise me that you'll never go in a cave!" you sob, wrapping your arms around his neck and nearly choking him to death. you don’t hear how you sound, completely oblivious to the fact that you sound a little crazy for waking him up from much-needed sleep to worry about him getting lost in some hypothetical cave, but you know how much discipline caleb has. if he were ordered to excavate a cave, he’d do it no questions asked. and you can’t imagine the stress of pacing around outside of the entrance to some cave networked called “the cave of death” as crews and teams of civil servants try to rescue him before he suffocates or something!  

"what’s got you so upset, hm?" he begs the question, not loosening his grip on your body.  

"like, even if your commander commands you to- you-you cant actually do it!" and by now, youre crying like a big baby, doing a poor ass job of explaining what you actually mean by this, but he can only sigh and wrap his arms around you in return, holding you close and cradling you to comfort you.  

"i wont, darling. i wont ever do that." he hushes you, patting your head gently. you whimper as he cradles you into his chest, enveloping you in the simmering warmth of his body heat.  

"you promise?" you sniffle. caleb looks over your trembling shoulder and sees the video paused on the screen of your ipad and connects the dots with what upset you. he has to hold a chuckle back, has to hold himself back from boasting that even if he were in one of those situations, nothing would keep him from getting out of there to get back to you. he'd just acquire the superhuman ability to get himself out of any cramped dark hole, doesn’t even think he’d get that claustrophobic.  

a cave couldn't hold him back from you and he knows that, but you're sniffling and shaking against him so much that all he does is kiss your forehead and assure you, his angel, that he wont ever go into a cave. "i promise." even though he totally would just to brag about it. 

₊ . ݁˖ ‧ ୨୧ if you enjoyed my content, pls consider reblogging ୨୧ . ݁˖ ‧₊

[drvyn]

"even though he totally would just to brag about it" somehow cave diving is the most caleb thing ever and he indeed would do it (I would pass out from worry because the memes were all fun and shit but it's genuinely terrifying like why would you want to do it)