#nature is glorious and loud

[tkingfisher]

A general reminder—periodic cicadas pose no threat to anyone and their plant damage is limited to nipping off the ends of twigs. Please do not hose them with pesticide. They are slow and clumsy and confused and only want to make friends with other cicadas and eventually die of sexual exhaustion.

Yes, the screaming is a lot, but they’ve been extremely quiet neighbors for thirteen years, cut them some slack as they go through the most fraught time of their lives.

[nextnewsnow]

Ant 🐜 ◇

[universityofwarwick]

good morning world

[maruflix]

YOU ARE SO GORGEOUS (IT MAKES ME SO MAD!) #oneshot #hoshinasoshiro #f!reader

hoshina is unfamiliar with the concept of personal space. unluckily for you, the huge crush you have on your vice captain is the least of your worries when he keeps catching you absolutely losing it. / REQ.

feat. hoshina soshiro　　⎯⎯　wc. 2.0k

contents: female reader, reader is an officer in the third division, fluff, stoic reader, reader cannot express her feelings, not-so-oblivious hoshina, kissing

When any kind of problem arises, the Third Division knows three things for sure:

Go get Captain Mina Ashiro to solve the problem for you.

If she’s busy with other important stuff, Vice Captain Hoshina Soshiro will do.

Should the Vice Captain be unavailable as well, look for Platoon Leader Y/N instead.

You don’t mind being busy— you’re happy to know that your fellow soldiers look for you in times of need. The thing is, sometimes people look for you to ask you where the Vice Captain is.

... and you hate Hoshina Soshiro.

It might surprise people to know that you’re able to feel emotions as strong as hate. You’re a naturally stoic person after all.

No noise readies you, no words shake you out of yourself, no person makes your emotions fluctuate — but Hoshina Soshiro is the only exception.

When other people would get discouraged to get close to you because of your lack of emotions, Soshiro is always at ease near you, like the two of you have been friends for a long time.

The way he smiles, the way he runs a hand through his hair, the way he stands— he’s so gorgeous it makes you so mad.

Like right now; the sound of blades clashing against each other rings in your ears as you try hard not to gape at the glorious display in front of you.

Kafka, huffing and puffing with sweat all over him as he desperately tries to keep up with his opponent, while Soshiro moves around with grace, delivering blows that seem so elegant and yet is enough to make Kafka stumble around like a puppet.

You watch, unsurprised, when Kafka falls down ungracefully, butt planted on the floor. Soshiro’s mouth starts moving (probably giving him some pointers) but all you can think about is how perfect he looks as a bead of sweat trails down his neck.

“Hey, it’s your turn.” Kikoru elbows you rather hard, making you snap out of your trance. Your face falls in an immediate deadpan as you stand up, passing by a dejected Kafka.

Soshiro smiles at you, seemingly unaffected by his earlier spar. “Oh no, I’m gonna have to open my eyes for this.”

He says it loud enough for everyone to hear and your heart leaps.

The spar lasted longer than the one with Kafka, but it still ended up with you losing. Well, there’s a reason he’s the Vice Captain and you’re the Platoon Leader.

As a competitive person, you should be angry for losing— but how could you, when Soshiro pulls you up and pats you in the back?

“You’re a great fighter. I might hafta to sit down and take a break.”

The poker face you successfully maintained should’ve given you a goddamn Grammy.

Soshiro spots you in the cafetaria and immediately makes a beeline to your table.

“’scuse me, coming through!”

The surprise in your eyes is gone as quickly as it appears. The entire table greets him warmly while you continue to eat. Soshiro smiles, sitting down next to you as Kafka scrambles to get out of his way.

Reno is trying to strike up conversation, but his only focus is on you. You seem so unconcerned about everything. He likes that about you too, but he wishes you’d let down your guard with him. How could he know whether you liked him or not? — not that he’d stop trying to get your attention.

Soshiro eating the rest of his apple while he watches you slurp down the last remains of your soup. Even when you eat, you look absolutely divine.

Just then, a lock of hair falls down your face, hanging dangerously close to your food. He instinctively reaches out to brush it out of your face.

“Whoops, wouldn’t wanna get that in the soup.”

Soshiro is aware of the stares he got from his subordinates, but seeing those beautiful eyes of yours look at him makes it worth it. Shocked, he watches as your eyes flash through different emotions before finally returning to its usual calm state.

“E-excuse me.” You didn’t give him time to speak before standing up and walking away.

“Wait!”

Did he just hear a stutter?

You walk fast, but Soshiro managed to keep a comfortable distance away from you. He lets you put away the tray of food and is about to call your name when you disappear inside the toilet.

He halts, opting to wait for you, resting his back against the wall. Then he hears something weird.

“AARRGGGHH!!!”

Posture immediately straight, his body involuntarily jerks to the sound of the scream, wanting to check out if you’re okay. Because it’s the sound of your scream.

He doesn’t have to, because at that moment the door swings open and you walk out of the toilet.

Red-faced.

He’s still standing in stunned silence when you slap a hand to your mouth and run away.

If Soshiro wasn’t worried before, he’s definitely worried now.

You keep avoiding him throughout the rest of the day. When you cross paths, you would refuse to look at him in the face. You’d only give him a halfhearted salute before fleeing.

The thing that bothers him is how hot and bothered you look. Are you feeling under the weather? Soshiro knows how hardworking you are, so he’s worried that you’re forcing yourself to work even though you’re sick.

“Platoon Leader, come here for a sec.”

You begrudgingly make your way to him, still not looking at him in the eyes. Fidgeting, sweating, and looking very, very bothered.

“Platoon Leader, are you sick?”

“No, sir.”

“Excuse me.” is his only warning before he presses his palm against your forehead.

Surprisingly, your temperature is... normal?

“W-what the-” Flinching, you make a big reaction and jerk away from his hand. Still, your face is calm. “If that’s all, I’ll take my leave.”

Soshiro sighs as you speedwalk away. Temperature aside, he’s 101% sure that you’re sick. After all, why else would your face be so red?

Unless...

You’re dreaming. You’re dreaming. You’re dreaming. Because there is no goddamn way Soshiro just touched your face.

You have no clue where you’re walking. You just wanted to get away from the only person who’s able to make you lose your cool. So you head outside, to the gardens. You pass by Haruichi on the way there.

“Hey, have you seen the Vice Captain around?” He calls out after you, making you want to scream in frustration.

Can people stop making you remember the existence of the drop dead gorgeous Hoshina Soshiro?!

“I don’t know! Maybe China!”

Haruichi looks very confused. You brush past him.

Full of nerves and unsure what to do, you finally sit down on a bench to catch your breath. You can still feel his fingertips on your forehead and see the worried expression in his handsome face.

He’s worried about you. You’re about to bury your head in your hands and squeal when you catch sight of the very same man walking towards you.

Like a cue, the mask is back on. You wanted to pat yourself in the back for how quickly you’re able to gather your composure. You’d rather die than embarrass yourself in front of your crush... although you just did that when you walked out to a surprised Soshiro.

He didn’t hear you scream, did he?

Did he?

You stand up as Soshiro stops next to you. He’s smiling his usual smile, but something is eerie about it. Like he knows a secret.

“Can I test something?”

You blink once. Twice. Then you nod.

“Walk with me.”

You follow him, puzzled.

Suddenly, he loops a hand around your shoulders.

Your heart misses a beat and you nearly stumble, but you catch yourself with sheer willpower. The stoic expression is getting harder to maintain, the smile on your lips itching to blossom.

“What... why?”

There are chills running down your back when you look up at Soshiro. His smile is wider now, like he absolutely knows a secret.

He absolutely knows.

You break free and run for your life.

Soshiro feels kinda guilty now. He didn’t mean to fluster you so much; he just felt so happy and flattered that he actually managed to make you blush.

That’s why he’s making his way to your quarters, hoping to apologize for teasing you too much today. Soshiro has loved you for many months now; he has no problems taking it slow until you’re ready to trust him with all your emotions.

The door is slightly ajar, so he pushes it open quietly, not wanting to alarm you. He’s about to knock on it to signal his presence when he sees the state you’re in.

Facing away from the door, your body is half slumped on the floor and half on the bed. You’re clutching a giant pillow to your face.

“AAARRRRGGGMMMM” Without warning, you scream, the sound drowned out by the pillow you’re burying your head into.

His mouth drops open but it quickly stretches into a smile.

You raise your head, revealing your blushing face, before slamming it down on the pillow again. A string of unintelligible noises follow soon after.

He clears his throat.

You pause mid grumble and the air is still. Slowly raising your head, you turn your head to the door. The two of you lock eyes.

“Vice Captain! Get out!”

Instead of getting out, Soshiro lets himself in and closes the door behind him. He chuckles at your terrified expression, finally seeing an emotion other than complete indifference.

“So you’re really not sick? Just blushin’ around me?”

You gape, looking very offended but unable to counter him.

“Oh, good. I thought my crush was unrequited.”

Your eyes widen.

“Hey, can I kiss ya?”

“Wh-what?!”

“Sorry. You just look so cute right now. Is that a no..?”

Soshiro moves closer, now kneeling down in front of you. A teasing smile is still present on his features. Gently, he strokes his thumb down the right side of your lips. Gauging your reactions.

You didn’t want to give him any, but even a great actress needs her breaks. A shy smile breaks through your cold facade, and Soshiro beams.

“Oh, this is so cute. I must kiss ya now.”

You don’t know where to look, eyes flitting everywhere but him, but you let him lean into you until you can feel his breaths against your skin.

“W-wait,” you gasp meekly. Soshiro’s other hand is around your waist now. “I’ve never kissed anyone before.”

Soshiro shivers in anticipation. “That’s okay,” he whispers and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, “just follow my lead.” And he presses his lips against yours.

It’s so cute how shy you are, so much so that you’re trembling under his touch. He’s pretty sure he heard a whimper when he tightens his hold on your waist. It takes everything in him to control himself when you tilt your head back, parting your lips a bit further for him.

You don’t know how long time has passed because your head is still in the clouds even after he pulls away. It’s embarrassing how a simple kiss leaves you a mess; your breaths ragged and cheeks flushed.

You, who’s usually so stoic, calm and composed, looking like this under him—

“I want to say that I’ll stop teasing you, but I would be lying.” Soshiro grins when you bury your face in his chest.

You’re sulking a bit now. How dare he make you look like a complete idiot. “Whatever. You won’t get another reaction out of me anyway.”

“Is that a challenge?”

After that, he tries to get your attention every time you’re in the same space as each other. He’ll tease you, praise you, sling an arm around your shoulders, hold your things out of reach, all that just to get a rise out of you.

Of course, everyone knows he’s down bad. He acts like a schoolboy trying to get attention from his crush in all the wrong ways. So now even more people ask you about Soshiro; where he is, what he’s doing, like they’re completely convinced you two are an item.

Well, you are.

But with so many people teasing you about your relationship, it’s getting hard to hide behind a calm face. You smile a lot more often, especially when he’s around. Your reputation as the division’s most calm and composed soldier quickly fades into memory. At least you got yourself a hot boyfriend...?

Oh well. You win some, you lose some.

[valalice]

ᥫ᭡ waking caitlyn up with birthday head.

cw. smut nsfw. fem!reader. somno (all consent). cait gets eaten out like the queen she is. fingering (barely). cait has a glorious bush.

it was too tempting, too alluring. you felt, no understood, eve's reason to take the apple, but in this scenario cait is the apple and snake is your conscious.

when you had woken up, as you wanted, feeling proud to have finally woken up before cait on her birthday. wanting to sneak downstairs to wake caitlyn up in bed with breakfast, but when you turned to her, intentions of a quick peck on her forehead. you're met with the sight of cait spread on her back, arms and legs sprawled out, blue locks spread across her pillow in a halo, and the silky light grey night slip she'd worn to bed had ridden up above her belly button, exposing her pretty maroon colored panties; you'd favor waking her up a different way than you had intended.

now her panties are discarded somewhere and making breakfast will have to happen later; slotted between her legs, tongue swirling around her bud, all your movements so far have been light, teasing even. eyes staying hyper focused on cait's sleeping form, her face twisted up in a cute furrow, chest rising and falling shallower by the moment, nipples pebbles beneath her slip. closing your mouth around her and sucking, cait twitched, hips bucking up, her head turning to the other side of her pillow, a loud moan rips from her throat. you pushing further into her, arms hooking under her legs, and pressing the blunt ends of your nails into her thighs.

and when she subconsciously tries to close her legs, squeezing your head in the process you moan into her cunt, the vibrations from you mouth sending shocks through her body to jolt away, eyes snapping open, her head moving from side to side.

"what—" she gasps, her gaze finally falls on you between her legs lapping up her arousal. "shit." realizing that 1.) you've woken her up the best way possible and 2.) she still has her thighs clamped close around your head, not that you minded, you were still busy at work getting her close to her peak. cait spreads her legs wide across the the sheets, an arm outstretching to caress the top of your head.

"you're more eager for my birthday than i am." she husk, accent still laced with sleepiness, a lazy smirk displayed on her face.

nodding your head, knowing it'll add to her pleasure when she sighs. her hand leaving your head and follows her other hand as it pushes up her slip, her tits pooling from underneath, and groping them, lowly buzzing off of the pleasure you're giving her; you always treat her so well.

"already s'close, love." a hand returning back on top of your head, pushing your further into her needy cunt, your nose pressed into her neatly trimmed blue pubes; maybe it makes you a sicko, but cait's natural musk rials you up, makes your absolutely feral for her, it's intoxicating truly. "doin' s'good. go on make me cum." she hums, throwing her head back into her pillow, yet a hand still remains threaded through your hair, tugging at it tight.

her words egg you on, the light sheen of sweat covering glistening over her body also achieved the same effect. you're so unbelievably turned on right now, but today isn't about you, so you resort to humping agaisnt the bed, trying to get any kind of friction agaisnt your clothed cunt. and of course, any ounce of please you get from this is given to cait as you release muffled moans into her, eyes shutting as you savor the taste of her slick against your tongue.

cait's hips buck, and if somehow the grip on your hair becomes even tighter; she's close. you're jaw begins to ache, almost as bad as your cunt, but you don't let up, and knowing her sweet release is just upon her makes you keep up, eyes fluttering open to behold the beauty of cait's head pressed deep within her pillow, body angled up into your mouth, and hard grip on her tit, her perky nipple peeking from between her fingers, mouth agape.

in the midst of the moment she clamps her thighs around your head once more, a breathy release of air is released from her mouth, body shuddering as serenity washes over her; her entire body relaxing, letting go of her grip on your hair and thighs falling weak. a string of groans following after from your mouth lapping up her release, letting your tongue flatten over her puffy clit, arms untwining from her legs and pushing yourself up. crawling up the length of cait's body, hovering above her. "happy birthday, baby." you grin.

the woman below you doesn't hesitate to pull you into a messy kiss. the essence from her cunt still left on your lips and down your chin, the taste of her dancing on your tongues. letting up, you laugh at her lips and chin now also being glossy.

"happy birthday, indeed." she purrs, a hand snaking up your arm to hold onto your bicep, attempting to pull you into her, but you resist.

"i'm not done yet, birthday girl." you smirk, basking in the shocked expression on cait's face when she feels a fingering prodding at her hole before dipping in, her cunt squelching in the process.

caitlyn's birthday bash has just began.

[cupofteatoyou2]

Told you I’d survive the wolves.

Jana had been pacing since she got out of the shower. Back and forth across the room, muttering to herself, tugging at the hem of her shirt like she’d forgotten how clothes worked.

You were stretched out on her bed, watching her. One arm folded behind your head, the other resting across your stomach, calm as ever.

“Babe,” she said, whirling around. “Can you at least pretend to be nervous?”

You blinked slowly. “Why?”

“Because I’m bringing you to meet my entire team,” she groaned, collapsing at the edge of the bed dramatically. “They’re loud. Nosy. Half of them are obsessed with me. And Irene and Alexia are going to destroy you if they sense even a crack in your armor.”

You shrugged. “Let them try.”

She groaned again, flopping fully onto her back next to you. “This is a bad idea. You’re too quiet. You don’t do people. You don’t do dinners.”

“I do you,” you said easily, letting the tease hang in the air.

Jana rolled her eyes, cheeks flushing despite herself. “You know what I mean.”

You turned your head toward her, gaze softening. “You want me there?”

“More than anything.”

“Then I’ll be there.”

That shut her up. For a second. Until she muttered, “They’re gonna think you’re, like, my bodyguard or something. The silent type in a suit who probably knows five different ways to kill a man.”

You smirked. “Six, actually.”

“Not helping!”

The restaurant was already packed when you arrived — not with strangers, but with noise, energy, heat from a recent match win that was still vibrating off every player at the table.

Laughter echoed, someone was retelling a foul in way too much detail, a waiter was trying to squeeze past with another round of drinks. It was chaos. Pure, glorious, post-game chaos.

You adjusted your jacket before you stepped inside. Fitted black, open over a plain tee. The rest of you was clean — well-fitted pants, boots, watch. Minimal. Purposeful. You weren’t flashy, but you did turn heads.

And the moment Jana stepped in behind you, slipping her hand into yours, the entire table went silent.

Like, comically so.

You could hear a fork clatter against a plate. Someone coughed. A glass hit the wood with a loud clink.

Twelve world-class footballers froze mid-bite, all eyes on you. You scanned the group once, slow and level. You weren’t being intimidating on purpose — it was just the way you were. Calm. Controlled. Still.

You looked like you were about to audit the restaurant. Or pull Jana away from danger. Definitely not like someone showing up for a date night with her giggly, golden girlfriend.

Mapi’s jaw dropped first. “No way.”

Ona, halfway through sipping her water, choked.

Patri, always the mouthiest, squinted like she was trying to decode a riddle. “She’s real.”

“Wait—this is her?” Pina leaned in.

“She looks like she should be head of security,” vicky added from the middle of the table, half-grinning.

Jana just beamed. Radiant. Unbothered. Proud. “Everyone, this is my girlfriend.”

There was a beat of dead silence again, and then-

Mapi, hand raised like she was pointing out a glitch in the simulation “She looks like she could break my ribs just by looking at me.”

Patri nodded solemnly. “Honestly? Same.”

You didn’t react. Just gave a nod. Calm. Unfazed. You were used to people trying to figure you out in the first five seconds.

No one ever got it right.

You guided Jana to her seat like it was second nature — a hand on her lower back, holding out the chair, waiting until she was settled before taking the one beside her. Your arm brushed hers. You didn’t move away.

Across the table, Alexia sat with her arms crossed, face unreadable. She hadn’t said a word yet.

You noticed. You noticed everything.

“So,” Mapi said slowly, tilting her head toward you. “You don’t talk much, huh?”

You gave a small shrug. “Not unless I need to.”

“Great,” Patri muttered, slapping the table. “We got the strong, silent type. Mystery girlfriend unlocked.”

Jana nudged you gently, like she was trying to remind everyone you were human.

“She’s just quiet around new people,” she said. “She’s actually really sweet. Once you get past the—uh—‘silent and maybe lethal’ vibe.”

You raised a brow. “Maybe?”

That earned a couple chuckles — tentative, curious ones.

“So,” Ona leaned in, chin on her palm, “what do you do, anyway?”

Jana immediately stiffened.

You glanced at her, then back at the group. “Something a little untraditional.”

“Like what? Tech? Security? Mercenary?” Patri was definitely not kidding.

“Something like that.”

“Okay what does that mean,” Mapi asked. “Now I’m invested. You can’t just say you’re a mystery woman and not elaborate.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Still. You look like someone who’s used to saying no comment.”

You took a sip of your drink. “Only when necessary.”

There was a short silence as they all stared at you like you were the main character in a mystery novel.

Jana, clearly trying to save you from further questions and possibly herself from exploding, leaned forward with a quick, “Let’s talk about the game instead!”

But across the table, Alexia finally spoke.

“Huh.”

That was it. One syllable. Loaded.

Jana looked over, instantly on guard. “What?”

Alexia didn’t break eye contact with you. “Nothing. Just didn’t expect this.”

“This?” Jana echoed.

She shrugged. “She’s not what I pictured.”

You didn’t flinch. “Most people don’t picture right.”

Alexia smiled, tight-lipped. “Apparently.”

Jana was fuming now, opening her mouth—but you brushed your fingers lightly over her knee under the table.

Not here. Not yet.

They didn’t know who you were. They didn’t know what you could do.

And that? That was the fun part.

You’d barely made it through the starters when the questions started rolling in.

It began innocently enough—soft curiosity hidden behind polite smiles and wine glasses. You could feel it coming before it even started, the shift in atmosphere, the rising energy across the table as everyone began to relax. Not at you, though. About you.

It was a look you’d gotten before—like someone trying to read a novel without the cover. You looked too composed. Too guarded. Too not what they expected.

Jana had kept her body angled toward you the entire time, her knee brushing yours beneath the table, hand occasionally resting on your thigh like a quiet reassurance. But you knew she was waiting for it too—for someone to break the silence, to ask what they were all clearly thinking.

So when Irene set her fork down and leaned over the table with a sly grin, you didn’t even blink.

“Okay,” she said. “I need to ask. Who are you, really?”

Jana groaned softly beside you. “Irene—”

“No, no, I mean it,” Irene continued, gesturing toward you. “You walk in here like a damn bodyguard, you haven’t said more than five words, and you’ve been scowling at the bread basket like it owes you money. I need context.”

The girls laughed, a few of them chiming in with agreement.

You met Iren’s eyes, calm. “You want my résumé?”

“Absolutely.”

You leaned back a little in your chair, finally speaking with a slow, even tone. “Name’s Y/N. I’m twenty-two. Born and raised in Madrid. I play professionally—different sport. Moved to Barcelona last year.”

“Oh no,” Patri said. “A rival athlete. This is getting spicy.”

“What sport?” Vicky asked.

You paused just long enough to keep them curious, then answered simply, “We’ll get there.”

A wave of mock outrage passed through the table. Kika fake gasped. Ona raised her brows in silent challenge. Jana just buried her face in her hands.

“You’re enjoying this,” she muttered under her breath.

“A little,” you whispered back, the corner of your mouth twitching.

“So how did you two meet, then?” Ona asked, chin propped on her hand as she studied you.

“Friend’s birthday,” you said. “Jana knocked over a tray of drinks. I caught one.”

“I caught two!” Jana corrected indignantly.

“You did,” you agreed, smiling softly. “But mine was tequila, and I hate wasting tequila.”

“Love at first spill,” Mapi nodded dramatically. “Classic.”

“She was so smug about it too,” Jana said, sitting up straighter now. “Didn’t even blink. Just handed it back to me and said I owed her a drink.”

You shrugged. “You did.”

The group collectively cooed and groaned, depending on their wine intake.

“But wait,” Patri said, leaning in now. “How long has this been going on?”

“Almost a six month ,” Jana answered quickly.

Cue another round of chaos.

“A six month ?!” Kika exclaimed.

“You’ve had a secret girlfriend for a whole half year and didn’t say anything?” Vicky gasped.

“She didn’t hide me,” you said calmly. “We just… didn’t want to make things complicated.”

“She wanted to keep you all to herself,” Mapi said, pretending to wipe a tear. “Selfish.”

“You’re all chaos,” Jana muttered.

“True,” said Ona, sipping from her glass. “But chaos knows how to interrogate.”

“Which brings us back to the question,” Patri added. “What do you do?”

You exchanged a glance with Jana. She hesitated. So you answered for her.

“I fight.”

Dead silence.

“I’m sorry, what?” Mapi blinked.

You didn’t raise your voice. Didn’t make a scene. You said it the way someone else might say teacher or accountant.

“I’m an MMA fighter.”

For half a second, the table didn’t register it. Then—

“Like… real fighting?” Kika asked.

“Cage matches,” you confirmed. “Amateur when I was younger. Turned pro two years ago.”

Vicky’s jaw dropped.

Mapi blinked at you like she’d seen a ghost. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

“Nope.”

Ona put her fork down. “Oh my god. That explains so much.”

“Wait—so much?” Jana asked, raising her eyebrows.

“Have you seen the way she walks?” Kika said. “Like someone who knows they can win a fight they haven’t even been challenged to yet.”

“And the arms,” Ona added casually. “She looks like she could lift a car.”

You gave a soft chuckle. “Only the small ones.”

Then came Alexia.

She hadn’t said much all night, but the second you said fighter, something behind her eyes sharpened. She set her knife down with purpose, posture stiff, voice cutting through the noise like a blade.

“Of course you’re a fighter.”

You turned to her slowly. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Alexia leaned back in her seat, arms folded. “Nothing. Just… explains the serious face. The whole silent and brooding thing.”

Jana sat straighter, protective now. “Lex—”

“It’s alright,” you said softly, still looking at Alexia. “I get it. I don’t look like the kind of person you pictured her dating.”

“You look like someone who could snap a neck if provoked,” she said bluntly.

A few nervous laughs around the table.

You didn’t blink “I’ve been in cages, rings, and fights with people twice my size,” you said, voice calm, controlled. “None of that scares me. But the idea of hurting Jana? That would.”

It was quiet after that. Even Mapi didn’t know what to say.

Jana reached under the table and slid her hand into yours, threading her fingers between yours without looking.

You didn’t let go for the rest of the night.

You could feel it before you even saw her.

Alexia’s eyes on you. The pressure of her gaze—calculated, cool, and unrelenting. She hadn’t smiled once all night. And every time you so much as shifted in your seat, it was like she was clocking your movements, cataloguing you like a threat in disguise.

The rest of the team had started warming up to you after the “fighter” reveal. Mapi had made at least six jokes about needing you on the defensive line. Vicky had asked how many ribs you’d broken in your life you said "two—mine". Ingrid had tilted her head thoughtfully and gone, “Hmm, I can see it now. The jawline. The silence. The slightly scary aura. You’re her type.”

Even salma—who barely said a word when you walked in—was now animatedly asking about how long you had trained and whether you could flip someone over a table if needed. You said, “Depends on the table.”

Jana, meanwhile, hadn’t stopped beaming. She sat close—hip brushing yours, her hand occasionally resting on your knee under the table. Whenever someone got too loud or made a comment that toed the line, she’d glance up at you, as if checking you were okay. You always were. You were used to scrutiny. What you weren’t used to was someone like her watching your face like it mattered to her what she saw.

But Alexia?

Still cold. Still skeptical. Still looking at you like she couldn’t figure out what the hell her sweet, gentle, starry-eyed teammate was doing with someone like you.

The tension crackled quietly as dessert was cleared. Then, the wine started flowing again, and with it came the pokes—the questions dressed up as jokes, the little digs that weren’t quite playful.

“So…” Alexia spoke up again, swirling her glass slowly. “What happens when you get mad?”

You were in mid-conversation with Mapi, but the whole table turned to you.

You met her gaze evenly. “Depends.”

“On?”

“Who I’m mad at.”

There was a pause. Mapi stifled a smirk. Patri widened her eyes at the table, clearly enjoying the tension. Jana stiffened beside you.

Alexia took another sip. “Right. But say someone pisses you off. What then?”

You blinked, patient. “I don’t lash out. I’ve trained to control myself.”

“That’s good,” she said, deceptively calm. “Because someone with your… background losing control? That could be dangerous.”

You leaned back slightly, voice still even. “I’ve fought people twice my size. I’ve been thrown against cages, taken elbows to the face, trained until my lungs burned. You think I’d lose control in a restaurant because someone made a comment?”

That silenced the table.

Alexia shrugged. “Just saying. People like you are… intense.”

You let the silence settle. Then, voice low and deliberate

“I’ve spent years learning how to be intense without being destructive. That’s the difference between being dangerous and being disciplined. I know exactly how strong I am. And I know what I’m capable of. Which is why I’d never raise my voice, let alone my hand, to someone like Jana.”

Another pause. This one heavier.

You could feel Jana’s fingers sliding over yours under the table. She didn’t speak—but her grip said everything.

“She calms me,” you added. “In ways no one else ever has.”

It wasn’t a speech. It wasn’t some planned defense. Just quiet truth. Your voice wasn’t soft—but it was sure.

And Alexia heard it.

For the first time all evening, something in her shifted. Not trust. Not yet. But a tiny falter in her wall.

“So,” Mapi said quickly, breaking the silence, “who wants to see if she can choke out Patri with a napkin?”

Laughter rippled around the table, easy and warm. Tension diffused.

Patri elbowed Mapi and rolled her eyes. “You’re such a drama queen.”

You leaned toward Jana, voice low: “You okay?”

She smiled up at you, warm and bright. “Yeah. Are you?”

You gave the slightest nod. “Always.”

By the time dessert hit the table, your shirt collar was rumpled from where Jana had tugged you close to whisper jokes. Her laughter had only grown brighter the longer the night went on. Around you, the team had settled into a post-meal chaos—spoons scraping the last of chocolate mousse, wine glasses refilled too generously, someone ,you were 90% sure it was Mapi, yelling about arm wrestling.

But even in all the noise, you felt the weight of one gaze.

Alexia was still watching.

Not with the sharpness she’d had earlier, but something more patient now. Like she was waiting for a moment. And when the team got distracted again—Mapi daring Patri to chug a glass of water upside down—Alexia tapped Jana’s shoulder.

“Can I borrow her for a sec?” she asked, nodding at you.

Jana froze with her fork halfway to her mouth. “Why?”

“I just want to talk.”

“She’s not really the talking type,” Jana said quickly.

You set your hand over hers on the table. “It’s okay.”

“You sure?”

You nodded. “Go defend Mapi’s honor.”

Jana gave Alexia a narrowed look, but let you go.

Outside, the night had cooled, crisp air kissing your cheeks as you stepped onto the quiet street beside her. You tucked your hands in your coat pockets. Alexia stood a few feet away, arms crossed, jaw working.

The silence stretched.

Then finally, “So. You fight.”

You blinked slowly. “Didn’t realize that was still breaking news.”

“I mean… you fight. Cages. Rings. Actual paid violence.”

“I call it controlled discipline, but sure. That too.”

Alexia exhaled like she’d been holding it for hours. “Jana has always been… soft. In a good way. She’s light. She’s—”

“Sunshine,” you offered. “I know.”

“And you…” she trailed off, looking at you from the corner of her eye. “You walk like you expect a bullet.”

You huffed something that might’ve been a laugh. “You’re not wrong.”

She leaned back against the brick wall of the restaurant, arms still folded. “You terrify them, you know.”

“I know.”

“But that’s not why I had a problem.”

You raised an eyebrow.

“I wasn’t scared of you,” she clarified. “I was scared of what you represented. People like you—people with hard eyes and locked jaws and bruised knuckles—they don’t stay. They burn. And people like Jana?” She tilted her head toward the restaurant. “They get caught in the fire.”

That one… stung.

You stared at her for a long beat. The light above flickered slightly.

“I’ve spent most of my life in places where I couldn’t afford softness,” you said finally, quietly. “But I’ve never once looked at Jana and thought about breaking anything. She’s the only thing I’ve ever wanted to protect.”

Alexia didn’t answer, but something in her face shifted.

“You think I’m intense?” you went on. “I’ve seen that girl care so loudly it knocks the wind out of people. She’s a force. Don’t confuse soft with weak.”

Alexia glanced down. “No one who keeps up with me on the pitch is weak. I know that.”

The silence this time felt less strained. Like a storm starting to clear.

“I didn’t want to like you,” Alexia admitted. “And I’m still not sure I do.”

“That’s fair,” you replied.

“But…” She hesitated, watching you. “I believe you love her. That part I see clear.”

You nodded. “With everything I’ve got.”

Another pause. Longer. Quieter.

“If you ever hurt her,” she said softly, not a threat but a promise, “I won’t need a cage.”

You looked her right in the eye. “If I ever hurt her, I’ll let you swing first.”

That was the moment something in her cracked. Not completely, not all the way—but enough.

Alexia straightened. “Come on. You’ve survived dinner. Mapi’s asking questions about who would win in a fight: you or patri.”

You smirked. “Would she be watching or participating?”

Alexia actually laughed, low and reluctant. “She might be proposing.”

Back inside, the mood had only gotten messier. Patri had her face buried in her hands as Mapi tried to demonstrate some sort of “ninja duck roll” using an empty wine bottle. Jana saw you immediately—her eyes lit up, scanning your face like she was looking for signs of damage.

You sat beside her and pulled her close without a word. She pressed a kiss to your jaw.

“She still hates you?” Jana whispered, teasing.

“No,” you murmured back. “She’s just scared I might steal you away for good.”

“You already did.”

Mapi clinked a glass. “Alright! Verdict time!”

Everyone turned to her.

“Our dear silent mystery fighter has survived the wolves. Barely. But she passed. I say she stays.”

Jana cheered softly, pulling your hand onto her lap.

You leaned close, brushed a kiss to the top of her head, and whispered only for her

“Told you I’d survive.”

She smiled at you like you’d just handed her the sun.

And for the first time that night, Alexia watched you—not with judgment, not with challenge.

With respect.

(This is probably shit 😅 )

[anotherocean]

THE SEED IN YOUR SOUL:

This reading is about a dream your soul has for you. This is my second PAC reading and it's like a compass for your soul-- something you deeply desire, something that is already occurring on some level, and something that has seeds within you already. Please feel free to pick more than one pile, or pick them all, or just pick one. This is meant to be a glance at something essential inside you that popped out at me, and some advice moving forward toward a more complete realization of it. Please let me know if you found this helpful or if it resonated! :)

PILE I. You are so beautiful to me Pile 1, and your life is abundant with riches. There is SO MUCH peace here. You can finally rest. The energy I see is you on a tropical island swinging in a hammock without a care in the world. You are allowed to take life as slowly as you want. You really appreciate the sensuality of things. Really truly. That’s what makes you rich. The abundance spills forth from there, and you have the money to cover all the basics (and more) without worry. You even have enough money to take care of your loved ones it seems, which is something that matters to you. You want to share so much of what you have, and that's part of what makes you feel rich too. You’ve carved out a gorgeous life for yourself, and that life is just for you. It doesn’t look like a life that anyone has ever seen before. It’s fully YOURS... you invented it! If the word “mine” isn’t your guiding word, it should be. You are learning about all the things that are yours, and it makes you truly rich. You can live your life in secret if you want. Or you can live it very loud and big. There is a duality to you. Somehow your legacy in life is both very small and very huge. You live both a very secret life, and a very public one. You acquaint yourself with the riches of the world and live in true luxury, as personally defined by you.

Advice: You’re coming off of a really hard time it looks like. Recognize the difficulties you’ve been through. Honor them. Address concerns you have about security and how that may be holding you back. Security is your birthright, but it is a state you can feel without obsessively pursuing it and valuing it above all else. RELEASE your regrets for how you wish things could have been. People and situations are flawed. We are flawed. Life doesn’t always take the twists and turns we like, and it’s your time to move on. It’s time to step away from those things and embrace your confidence, your fire, your passion. Aim to complete what you’ve started and begin afresh. It’s the end of a cycle and the beginning of a glorious new one. You are headed for exciting new opportunities and the feeling of inspiration is just around the corner.

PILE II.

My graceful and gorgeous pile 2. Letting your body be completely free makes you really happy, and this is something you feel allowed to do privately.  You are utterly unique and solitude just allows you to stretch out into that.  You loooooooove to be alone, and it is a truly gorgeous thing.  I think a lot of the time solitude gets a bad rap, but this pile is all about the gorgeousness that comes from really getting to enjoy your own company, and the world around you.  You are EXTREMELY sensual and I mean sensual with a capital SSSSSS.  Your greatest joy is pure quiet, and the sounds of nature.  From this place of solitude, and a deep knowing, you find absolute and utter, tranquility.  Maybe this is a pile that has experienced pain or trauma or power struggles but that is all over.  It’s like all the nature you’ve surrounded yourself with has just sucked it out of you completely.  Your body is going to take over.  I keep getting that this is maybe a scary thing, but it shouldn’t be.  You are 100% aligned with something holy.  Deep down I think you know this.  Anyway, the divine will wash over you.  Just say thanks, or say nothing at all, and melt.  You are here for this kind of bliss. You are absolutely absorbed into a spirituality that many people would die to experience just a fraction of.  You are existing on other wavelengths entirely, and what a stunning thing that is.

Advice: You’re undergoing a massive transformation.  Embrace the upheaval you are going through.  Move away from rigid thinking (“this is the way it should be”).  Rules and adherence to rules are not your friend right now.  You will still want to use your mind to think clearly, but be playful and inquisitive as you do it.  Ask a lot of questions and be curious.  Understand too, that emotional pain may be part of the process toward what you most want right now, and that is okay, it will only make your heart stronger and you more beautiful.  Let joy, friends, community and camaraderie lift you up and be part of your healing process.

PILE III

Right away I get the glory of good food!  Of nourishment!  This is just the surface.  You have absolutely incredible, deep-in-your-body physical confidence.  You are an athlete, a chef, someone whose whole world depends on their body.  Still, you are going to the gym, making the smoothies, swimming, dancing, your world is revolving around your physical self.  You get massages.  In a sense you are free to worship yourself.  You are free to worship your world.  Judgements from other people (and there are some) only thrill you, and you might even enjoy the fiery friction.  Sexuality is a part of your life, and it’s tied to your creativity.  You are of the body, by the body and for the body.  You get the pleasure of standing up for what you believe in.  You are some kind of star.  Something old-fashioned even.  Or there is something about the way you live that is old fashioned.  Or your notoriety (fame?) is old fashioned somehow… You are my most musical pile.

Advice:  You are setting out on a brand new adventure right now—how thrilling.  I can feel the potential and excitement.  You are a bit concerned about the long term stability of your plan and it’s holding you back a bit.  There is some hesitation, and it might be hindering your progress.  Don’t be so conservative right now, but also don’t be reckless.  There is a bit of a push-pull between a conservative approach, and a devil may care attitude.  Balance your enthusiasm with steady and thoughtful planning.  Above all else, embrace collaboration and teamwork.  Recognize the importance of collective efforts.  I promise that even if this does not relate directly to your goals, that peripheral collaborations will still help you.  Learn from people around you.  My other word of advice is take time to rest and recollect.  Be diligent, responsible and practical and be in it for the long haul.  There is stability in that alone, which should give you some comfort.  Practicality without conservatism will do you a world of good right now as you set out on your exciting new path.

PILE IV

You are a traveler down to the deepest parts of yourself.  You see the world and different people in the world, and make connections everywhere you go.  You rush hurriedly from one flight to another, and then you find yourself somewhere exotic and your world gets bigger and your whole mind expands.  It’s like the drapes were drawn in your living room for your whole life and now you’ve finally opened them letting light stream in, and even the windows are open and fresh air is finally getting inside.  You see so many things.  Greatest mountains, other oceans, animals and flora and fauna of other worlds.  In a sense you are like an alien walking on earth and just want to see as much of it as possible before you have to leave.  You are so free.  You step so lightly in this world, and with so much joy.  You go to cafes you’ve never been to, shops you’ve never been to, temples and fragrant forests where the caterpillars are huge and orange and you reach out and touch one out of curiosity.  You are a true citizen of the world, and deeply connected to humanity.  Your travels do not alienate you, they deepen your roots to Earth and connect you with your global family.  

Advice: You are on a new path, perhaps related to the material world or financial comforts.  There are real tangible beginnings now.  What’s holding you back are indecision and possibly procrastination.  Let go of indecision and avoiding the task at hand.  Make a decision and move forward with it… at some point in the future it might be appropriate to make adjustments, but not right now.  Right now you must embrace your vision and your confidence.  Be bold!!!!!!!!!  You might encounter worry, fear, anxiety but face it head on.  Don’t try to deny or hide away.  See the fear for what it is and have a direct confrontation with it (sometimes this is the war in our mind).  Persevere and value your resilience.  Say thank you to yourself for it.

=====

I hope you enjoyed this reading! I may eventually do paid services if people want additional info or clarifying questions. Very grateful to help and hope some of this information resonated with you. I had fun doing it and the hours slipped away. Put in my inbox or in comments if you want to see me focus on a specific reading.

[on-a-lucky-tide]

Nik being strong enough to pick Price up when he's in a bad mood and just put him on the bench of his workshop.

Price is in air jail and now at the perfect height for when Nik tugs the zipper of his flight suit down to reveal that fluffy chest, those burly arms, that glorious belly and happy trail that leads to the weapon between his legs.

Honestly I don't think John could work those cargo pants off fast enough, maybe Nik forgoes that entirely and cuts a neat hole right in the crotch and rips to get at his prize.

Price is walking (Maybe a little bow-legged) out of there a hell of a lot happier than when he walked in.

The lads chip in for a nice takeaway for Nik for helping them out (Dealing with Price's shitty mood)

Nik uses his dick as a captain tamer.

cw: anal sex, mild brat taming, a little rough.

John’s temper was nothing new. Nik had experienced it in its various permutations through the years. It was like a hurricane; loud, destructive, and indiscriminate in the damage it caused, taking out friends and foes alike. But it eventually ran out of wind; surviving it was simply a case of moving out of its way until the inevitable conclusion. And, just like a storm, it wasn’t personal, but a natural byproduct of all the pressures and stresses weighing on John’s shoulders. He was only human.

Sometimes, however, the bad mood would fail to wear itself out and John would become more cantankerous as time wore on and his frustration built. If he was particularly tired, stressed, his body wound tight, feeding his brain a continuous flow of cortisol and catecholamines, then his grizzly mood was liable to last for days. A dark cloud hanging over the base and Task Force, suffocating.

It was day three this time and Nik’s patience had worn out. It was time to give the feral bastard what he needed. The lieutenant called it ‘a good seeing to’ and the sergeants, while not quite brave enough to say it to John’s face, said he was always a bit more human after he’d been stuffed with cock. Nik had worked out it was the act of having control stripped out of his hands, his mind emptied of all but pleasure, and his body flooded with endorphins from an orgasm. It stopped the spiral in its tracks. Even if it was only a reprieve to simply clear his head, it was often enough to give him the breathing room he needed to resolve the problem. He would deny it, of course, but John surrendered every time.

Nik finished the maintenance he’d been performing on the Black Hawk’s main rotary engine and washed his hands clean in the workshop sink, careful to remove the grease and grime from his cuticles. It was late. Most of the base had either retired to the barracks, gone home to their local residences, or headed out to the pub, but John was still here, huffing and growling over the laptop on the nearby workbench. “I can’t fuckin’ believe they’re takin’ Simon for another trainin’ seminar, puts him out for three fuckin’ days—“

Nik had invited him in to discuss some intel, citing his need to continue maintenance to stay on schedule as the reason for the location and, ever diligent, John had arrived on time with his laptop in tow, unknowingly sliding right into Nik's trap. Nik turned off the taps and returned briefly to his heli to dip into his duffle bag for the lube before he approached John at the bench. He slid his hands around John’s waist just as he closed his mouth beneath the hinge of his jaw, sucking a mark into soft skin.

“Ah, fuck, Nik—“ John went rigid in Nik’s hands, almost knocking the laptop off the workbench as he span to face him. “You randy bloody bastard, ‘ve got work t’ finish."

Those fierce blue eyes, the stern set of John's face, they would have struck quivering fear into the heart of many a man. But all Nik saw was the stress, the tension, the bone deep exhaustion, all locked up tight behind a safety valve that needed a practiced hand to release it. “Nyet, you are done for the evening.”

“Oh fuckin’ reall—“

He didn’t finish. Nik leaned forward and swept the laptop to the side, before grabbing John’s narrow hips and lifting him effortlessly onto the bench. He shoved his way between John’s knees, not letting him clam up, the expanse of one big hand staying at the base of John’s back to keep him from wriggling away.

John wrestled with him, fists bunching in his flight suit and shoving against his chest, their first kiss more teeth than tongue or lips. But as the heat of Nik's body enveloped him, their crotches pulled flush, chests together, John stopped thrashing in Nik's arms. Nik took it as the first defeat, drawing back to nuzzle John's beard.

"Lemme up, ya muppet."

"Nyet " Nik straightened a little, creating a gap between them even if he remained between John's legs.

"Nik," John growled his warning, but it was a hollow threat.

“You will do as you are told, captain. Good boys get rewards.”

Nik knew the low rumble of his voice, the manhandling, it stirred something primal and receptive in the back of John’s mind. He watched those bright baby blues widen before they dropped to Nik’s hand, following it like a hawk tracking a mouse as Nik grasped the zipper of his flight suit and tugged it down, deliberate in the glacial pace of its progress.

John’s mouth dropped open as curls of black chest hair emerged between parting metal teeth, Nik’s dusky nipples peaking in the cool air, and John’s greedy hands slid across the heat of newly revealed skin, following the firm contours of his tits. Nik leaned forward to kiss John’s neck again, encouraging his touch, and this time his captain relaxed, his legs spreading a little further apart as his hips tilted. He was begging to be fucked. Nik would take John here as planned, and then he would take him to his bed to exhaust him into complete surrender.

Nik tugged his flight suit open to its fullest extent, his cock arching up in readiness where he hadn't bothered with underwear knowing his intentions with John that evening. He popped a few of John's shirt buttons to kiss the furry perk of his pecs, smiling against John's skin as he squirmed, opening his belt and fly with practiced ease. "Oh, fuck, Nik, no, not here..."

"Da, here," Nik replied, listening to John's tone, his body, rather than his words; the way he gasped so desperately and arched into Nik's heat screamed please, please, please. He didn't resist when Nik slid his arms beneath his thighs and grasped his waistband, lifting his arse for a moment to yank his Carhartts and boxers down his thighs.

John hissed as his flushed skin settled back on the cold surface of the workbench, eager for the return of Nik's palms around the upper curve of his cheeks and the dip of his tailbone. John had an exquisite arse; firm, muscular and round. Perfect for bouncing on a cock. Nik kneaded the top of it as he nipped along the edge of John's jaw to his ear lobe, relishing the powerful body writhing enthusiastically in his arms. Who was Nik trying to kid? John was perfect in every way, even with his penchant for sulking.

Nik earned his first needy moan when he let the tip of his cock kiss the tight furl of John's hole, the slightest pressure rubbing his wet slit against the fluttering muscle in an insistent tease. He nuzzled John's beard as he fished the lube out of his pocket and flicked the lid off with his thumb. John's hands pushed beneath the fabric of his flight suit to grip his shoulders, one looping behind Nik's neck to play in the curls at the nape of his neck. John flinched when Nik squeezed the lube onto his balls, the tube clattering on the workbench when it was cast aside. "Bastard..."

Nik smirked, smoothing warm fingers gently down the seam of John's sac to his taint, circling, teasing his rim with little tugs at the opening. When the first finger dipped inside, Nik swallowed John's groan with a kiss, tongue licking into his mouth when it fell open in a shock of pleasure. John didn't need much coaxing, his body opening eagerly around one and then two probing fingers. Nik crooked them up, John's cock flicking as Nik's fingertips rubbed over his prostate. John panted, his head falling back, the filthy noise of Nik's fingers squelching into his hole accented by his soft whimpers. Blunt fingernails dug into Nik's skin as John clung to him, his leaking cock fully hard against the unblemished milky softness of his inner thigh.

"Ah, ah, Nik... Mm, fuck... Ah..."

"Da, solnyshko. Just a little more and I will give you what you need."

Nik could make John come like this, but his balls ached and there was only one place he wanted to empty them; to watch John unspool on his cock was a privilege he deserved. He pulled his fingers out slowly, his thumb tugging down at John's slick, puffy hole as he smeared lube and precum over his crown and down his shaft, tongue between his teeth as he groaned at the sweet anticipation of what awaited. He was so hard, cock throbbing in his grip, balls already tight, and he took a moment to steady himself before sliding his arms beneath John's thighs again, John's booted feet dangling either side of his back, his trousers bunch just shy of his knees.

His fingers pressed into the flesh of John's hips to keep him still as he ground the tip of his cock over the slick skin of John's taint, lower lip between his teeth as John shivered in his grasp, hips tilting again, urging, begging with his body. Nik's tip notched against his hole and Nik held him firm as he thrust inside, John's body gaping wide around the flare of his crown and thick shaft. John quaked in his arms, thighs trembling, his soft, tortured noises nursing a primal delight deep inside Nik's chest.

Nik kept going, sinking into John's body, inch by aching inch, even as it bore down around him in desperation.

"Fuck, Nik, Nik!"

"Da, my love. Surrender to me as you yearn to..."

It wasn't simply the act of sex. Penetration itself was not surrender and John had ridden Nik's cock from above many times, in complete control as Nik ceded, leaning back into the pillows with his eyes closed. But this act, of letting the tension and frustration melt from his body, of giving in to the pleasure of sex with a man who knew how to pluck every string, of finally letting his mind empty and his muscles relax. That was surrender.

Nik pressed deeper, achingly slow, clutching heat struggling with the girth and length. Every time John's channel fluttered, pulsing between relaxing and gripping, Nik seized more ground. John's eyes rolled back as Nik nestled in his guts and finally bottomed out with a satisfied groan, John's stretched hole pressed against the dark curls of his pubic hair. Nik kissed trembling, spit slick lips, rocking gently, staying deep as he hollowed out his place in John's body. "Mm, detka. You are so tight. Relax, breathe..."

"Nik, ah, fuck, Nik. I'so much, hng."

"Ssh, I know, but you are... mm, taking me so well. All you have to do is let go."

Nik didn't give him any choice. He drew out until John's body sucked on his tip, clenching around it in greedy throbs, before he thrust his full length back in. John bit out a soft, startled cry, back arching as his nails bit into Nik's shoulders. Nik leaned into his lover's neck, the downy curls of his chest hair pressing to the warm swells of his firm chest as he clutched his hips tight to pull them into his cock. The next thrust was just as firm, just as demanding, shaking the table on which John sat.

Nik picked up a bruising pace, forcing John's body into submission with each deep thrust, wet skin slapping wetly as the table rattled under the force of Nik's hips pounding against John's arse. John clung to him, unable to find purchase anywhere but Nik's shoulders as he was fucked hard, Nik's palms providing a softer cushion for him to be pressed into, keeping him from being shoved away so that he was made to take every thrust to the hilt at an angle that sent relentless curls of pleasure arcing up the length of his body.

John shook apart so beautifully, his first orgasm was dry, triggered purely by the insistent, relentless drag of Nik's cock over his prostate. Nik felt the first tremors of it and leaned in to coach him through with whispered encouragement, "da, John, such a good boy, let it happen..."

John's body milked him in tight pulses and Nik watched in awe as John's pleasure unspooled through him, his limbs shaking, broad chest heaving in rattling breaths through loud, high-pitched whines, completely overwhelmed at the full body experience of coming on Nik's cock. It was like a molten heat that burned away the last of the tension and left him pliant and open in Nik's arms.

John's hole relaxed, sloppy with lube and wells of precum, the perfect sheath for Nik's cock, still sucking hungrily on Nik's length every time he withdrew before slamming back inside. Nik chased his high, growling into John's neck, nipping at his hammering pulse to taste the sweat on his skin. His climax crept up his spine, a vine of tension pulling him tight, and he nipped John's ear. "Touch yourself, detka."

John grabbed his cock obediently, pumping down its slick length in furious jerks that matched Nik's pace, his moans reaching a crescendo as he was trapped between two pleasure centres. Nik felt John tighten again, another orgasm, and it teased him over into his own. His hips jerked, stuttering against John's arse, as his cock pulsed its first load deep in John's body. John followed him over the brink, the flood of heat inside him making his eyes roll back as his cock painted his hand and shirt in thick ropes of cum as he was filled with it.

Nik's vision greyed, the force of his own pleasure leaving him breathless as his cock twitched in John's channel. He hadn't realised how pent up he'd been, his balls offering a seemingly endless breeding. He panted hot breaths against John's skin, the tip of his nose resting in the bristles of his beard, lips placing soft, fleeting kisses as his body finally finished. When he finally gathered enough coordination to draw out, the filthy noise of his cock withdrawing made him growl with pleasure, his seed welling at John's hole to drip down the curve of his arse to the floor.

When he lowered John's feet, his legs shook, and he lifted him off the table by the hips. "Go to your room. When I get there, I expect to find you naked in bed," Nik said.

John might have argued if he hadn't been completely spaced, his eyes soft in post-orgasmic bliss. Nik helped him right his belt and trousers and then watched him hobble out of the workshop. Once his captain had disappeared from sight, Nik turned his attention to tidying his tools, a little jelly-legged as he strolled about his workshop.

Nik would find John showered and snoozing, naked and warm beneath his blankets, about an hour later. He washed himself, removing the grime and sweat of the workshop, and slipped in beside him to rub his back and shoulders. John roused slowly, content to let Nik ease his aches, legs spreading when those strong fingers slid between them for a second round, his hole buttery soft, eager for Nik's touch. He was impossible to resist.

[precure1ove-archive]

he makes me laugh w. silver vanrouge, sebek zigvolt

byi : crack, fluff, reader is the prefect, reader is described as stoic, can be read as platonic or romantic

a/n : i accidentally deleted the ask for this..im so sorry :(( but this request was so fun to do!! <3

You were a stoic person, not one to regularly show emotions except for the slightest shift in your eyes whenever you find something enjoyable or distasteful.

Because of this you rarely laughed, the only sound of appreciation was from a small hum.

silver

Silver didn't mind how you did not react much if he's being honest he appreciates that part of you as it's something he can mostly relate too.

He hadn't even intended to make you laugh but apparently him becoming loopy and accidentally stepping on Grim's tail resulting in a loud girlish scream was enough to set you off.

In one of the worst ways possible.

You start by a small chuckle, seemingly innocent enough before you hunched over then threw your head back, a cackle that could shock anybody or anything followed along. it was like a curse had clawed its way out of your throat to haunt and reign terror over the land for all those who wronged you.

Silver, who was frozen in shock, with an equally terrified Grim clawing onto his pant leg, a good distance away from you in case you struck them down with lighting (reminding him of a certain gargoyle obsessed prince).

Unfortunately, he and Grim make sure to not do anything that can be considered the same amount of comical as that moment again.

Memories of Silver's childhood of a certain fae haunting him during Halloween keeps him on edge for a few days.

sebek

Sebek appreciated your stoic nature, sometimes, while you are a part of the saner portion of the school. (the same can't be said for him despite what he may think.)

He at least wants to see emotion on your face then hear another disappointed sigh again when he's being loud.So when you find him in a rather compromising position of being buried head to toe in custom made malleus merch, bowing to another custom made statue of the fae himself while singing praises.

You couldn't help but laugh.

And it was reality breaking for dear Sebek. You chuckle quietly as if to not be heard, then that was dismissed by you to bring a hand to cover your eyes as a cackle erodes from you, echoing around the dark chamber.

Now, for others, this usually meant trouble, for it meant a glorious reenactment of his beloved waka-sama. You even got the part where lighting strikes behind you ominously perfectly!

Obviously he is also scared for his life, thank lilia for that, but his loyalty and admiration for malleus shines through.

Sebek now seeks your presence more, excited to have someone who also appreciates Malleus like him.

Will you now teach him to laugh like that?

likes & reblogs appreciated

masterlist⠀ — ⠀ request here

[anantaru]

BONUS KINK — POWER IMBALANCE

kinktober 2023. — masterlist | ao3

𖧡 — including — ayato, neuvillette, dottore, alhaitham

𖧡 — warnings — fem! reader, power imbalance, oral (male! receiving) & oral (fem! receiving), maid! reader in ayato's part, forbidden romance, toxic, dottore's part is kind of scary but what's new

𖧡 — AYATO

this, everything, made no sense and how come the answers ayato sought after were regarded as futile?

he certainly knows it— but no one was able to make him feel just the way you did, with his jaw slacked and his rumbling groans growing dangerously loud, his abdominal muscles twitching delightfully taut beneath the drag of your fingertips prancing over the curves and rills.

to be honest— it's somewhat confusing him, because he was certain you were only putting on a glorious facade to please him, perhaps even do this just because he was your boss, not because you actually liked it, or liked him for that matter.

a ragged mutter, low and with a mouth full, huffs over his dripping cock when your head expertly rolls up and down his rigid erection and traps searing twitches straight to his cock— and as a man with an important reputation to be upheld, ayato instinctively slaps one hand over his parted mouth to catch his sensual noises before they could bubble out of him.

the yashiro commissioner, revealed in his elevated eminence, that he was of calculative and prestigious nature, although right now, all of his well-trained strength was altered into smoke with a snap of your finger and well, your cheeks hollowing so unbelievably tight that you could taste him on your velvety tongue, while your hand eagerly sneaks down from your exposed tits to in between your legs, placing lazy strokes on your neglected clit and putting on a sweet show for your master, evidently feeling the effects when he throbs and twitches on your tongue as a response.

it was hard to tell, and you could notice that his breathing was beginning to quicken, electrifying your needfulness, groping and battering the thin skin covering his balls, running your fingers around all the little ridges until you hear him desperately writhe and sob, like he's been touch starved for months.

if all of this combined— your subtle looks up to make sure he's enjoying it, your immediate willingness to spend your night with him— wouldn't be noticed by a clever man, the yashiro commissioner, who was daily facing important paths head one, and wouldn't even realize that you are always there without demanding something in return, or hoping for a favor or just acquire a chance to play him like a violin.

ayato cannot fathom it, even after looking into the light of your eyes, that you do care, and him being of higher power wouldn't change a thing.

𖧡 — NEUVILLETTE

for all times, you have never questioned the relationship you had with monsieur neuvillette, not only because it was something you thoroughly enjoyed yourself but also because you can avidly see that coming into contact with human affections for once in his life, feeling them circulate over his trembling skin, made the eminent man relax on this particular occasion.

his eyes erstwhile spin gentle without that serious look towering on his face— and it felt good when he touched you, a sharp cry bristling upon your very lips when he laps his tongue over a satisfying spot on your pussy, his eyes searching yours for constant approval before he makes himself even more comfortable in between your quivering thighs.

simply put, you won't lie to yourself, but it was frightening— in fact, the first time neuvillette made his interest in you clear, you thought you were about to be sentenced to a crime, on the brink of a mental breakdown due to the unspecified attention the iudex of fontaine had suddenly given you.

but after a while, you found yourself loving it and cannot hide that there were certain benefits of being in a 'special' relationship with a man of high status such as he was— although, it's always a bit clumsy at first, his tendencies to lean awkwardly on his other arm to get the best angle or hold your hand while he rolls his tongue over your glistening folds, always so eager to please and before you know it, after some careful maneuvering neuvillette gets it right, pressing the tip of his tongue steadily in and out of your hole.

despite the fact that he wasn't aware of his hidden talent of hitting all of your secret spots and giving them their much deserved attention, you frantically clench your fists at the disheveled bedsheets underneath your frame, bucking your hips into his mouth only to be roughly forced back down by the weight of two strong arms on top of your lower belly, keeping you still.

a repeating fury of his hot tongue fucks into your sloppy hole that was greatly amplified by a low growl coming his throat, your lewd arousal melting on his cheeks and chin and it's nearly weakening his state of mind to feel your silken warmth define the shape of his long tongue repeatedly entering you.

for neuvillette, despite everything, he was overwhelmed in this new and strangely comforting setting— but there were rare moments, kisses and affirmations as deep-running as roots, that are trapped in an eclipse of a second, meaning when two souls dip into each other like a ray of sunshine brushing on ones skin.

such constellation were those moments shared with you to neuvillette, and he'd like to keep it that way.

𖧡 — DOTTORE

otherworldly power and the ability to hold yourself on par with literal gods certainly was one of the beneficial factors that strengthened your attraction to dottore— who always worked his way around your body with an alacrity that truly surprised you, with precision, like no other and an ulterior motive, you were blind to.

your soft hands are both placed against his bare chest when he drags his rigid length unthinkingly deep into your cunt, taking advantage of your body as you pressed willingly into him, eagerly riding and moaning above, his touch so unlike any others.

his full lips curve into a handsome smirk, dark eyes sweeping your breath away, "you know what to do," he drawls, sighing deep in his chest when your silken walls envelope him, "do a good job, and you'll get what you want," dottore continues to affirm you, finding revel in your wet and willing warmth.

"or fail, and i'll put you to better use," he warns softly.

you catch his lips form into a slackened mouth, his large palms skimming across your exposed chest as he pulls those wanton, engaging tunes from your throat with ease, your cunt sinking and twisting around his length as you gasped for air, the painful ache manifesting in between your thighs coming second place as nothing, and you mean nothing, ever came close to this.

dottore wanted more, you weren't aware of it yet but he always required more of his experiments, meaning he needed to see results from them— wanted to ruin your soul, it's vitality and your resolve, even if it meant that he had to act out a couple instances and mask himself a liar— his legs parting a little further as he kicks his hips up, giving you everything you needed with his pseudo sweet words and affirmations twisting across your entire body.

your hips were bouncing up and down his length as you clench around him, impatiently trashing your breathing as you helplessly claw red marks deep across his pale chest, your breasts spilled loose before he holds them in his palms, suffocating the last line of defense inside of your body as you practically gasp for air with dottore twisting around every rational instinct left in your exhausted frame.

𖧡 — ALHAITHAM

"hmm?" alhaitham raises a brow, "what's that look on your face?"

pondering above you, his eyes reveal a sprinkle of illumination and give off a subtle shade of light which only made you realize that he wasn't really waiting for an answer from you, at all, and instead greatly rejoiced in having you where he wanted you to be all time long, pressed under his large frame.

you relax slightly, your shoulders dropping an inch back into the silken pillows as alhaitham mentally applauded himself for such monumental effort to gnaw down one penetrative self satisfied smirk when he feels you twitch around his thick length, "what's that look on your face?"

"you scared?"

you suddenly spit back, still favoring the side of him where he wouldn't talk, "shut it," and as stated, keep his mouth sealed, your fingertips sweeping over his biceps and all across his tensed shoulders before teasingly pressing your nails into the flesh, making him flinch and groan at the sensual state.

"that's not how you talk to a superior, you know,"

your naked figure shivers beneath his crawling gaze when he reminded you of an obvious fact, alhaitham was your superior— your boss, and such constellation was certainly new to the both of you nor was it allowed in the first place.

what if someone was to find out? would the scribe even get in trouble? certainly not after everything he has done for sumeru.

but it's second-place when he makes you twitch and turn beneath his large body beginning to move and crowd your spongy insides with a restless snap of his hips, repeatedly sinking his erection all the way until he was completely inside, deliciously mirroring the past couple of times where he had perfectly memorized your reactions— aside from your moans and pleas that would always start and end with a;

"this was the last time!"

but alhaitham never fails to feverishly thrust his shaft into you, "more—," you crave, urgent with need, your quivering body nearly destroyed by the lust he was the cause of, both trembling at the very edge of a blissful orgasm as he slides in and out, inch by inch, pressing you down the bed so you could never forget those moments again— even if one day, you would have to part ways.

©2023 anantaru's kinktober do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[twstunes]

hello and welcome to the Rollo Torment Nexus, designed to impart the absolute worst academic experience to everyone's favorite deranged church boy.

rationale:

1. Rollo has to be surrounded. There is no easy way out short of vaulting over the desk, and we all know he's not gonna do that while class is in session.

2. Floyd "Malicious Noncompliance" Leech has to be sitting directly next to Rollo. This should be self-explanatory. Whether he's actively doing something annoying or just taking notes in sloppy handwriting while wrinkling tf out of his notebook pages, his presence will be enough to test Rollo's patience.

3. Someone Floyd loves to annoy and/or talk to needs to be sitting on Rollo's other side. I've chosen Ace for this example, but Jade, Kalim, Grim, and Lilia would also work. Jamil would also be a good choice, as he would likely find a way to redirect Floyd's attention onto Rollo.

Riddle and Azul also have potential, but there's a solid chance they would take their lessons too seriously & ignore Floyd to the point he stops trying to get their attention. This would result in him being less annoying to Rollo, which is antithetical to the point of the Rollo Torment Nexus.

4. Malleus, naturally, has to be present. Though having him sit directly next to Rollo would be funny enough on its own, having him sit behind Rollo is the advanced play here. After all, if Malleus is within view, Rollo can keep an eye on him, thus keeping his own paranoia at bay. If Malleus is looming ominously behind (& above) him, Rollo has no way of staying watchful without blatantly ignoring the lesson/letting Malleus know he's wary. This would vex Rollo to no end, AND Malleus would find it funny.

5. Now, I know what you're thinking. Why Ruggie? Why not Idia or Azul, since Rollo would be more cautious of them?

Like Jamil & everyone else present for the Glorious Masquerade misadventure, Ruggie doesn't like Rollo. He's also one of the wilier students at NRC, meaning he wouldn't think twice about getting a little revenge at no cost to him.

Ruggie and Floyd are chill, but not overly involved with each other; further, Ruggie's physical presence in the classroom isn't particularly unusual, unlike how Idia's would be. Both of these points minimize the chance of Floyd abandoning his "talk across Rollo" endeavors to chat with Ruggie instead, meaning Floyd will spend longer maximally annoying Rollo.

Ruggie and Malleus get along pretty well! Even with Malleus' lack of Normal Person Social Skills™, it wouldn't be hard for the two of them to strike up a conversation – which would result in Rollo having to hear and be acutely aware of Malleus' presence behind him the whole time.

Ruggie would 100% start talking quietly to Malleus, just loud enough for Rollo to kinda-sorta hear, JUST to get on Rollo's nerves. Like–

Ruggie: "Hey, Malleus, how're you doing today?" Malleus: "I'm doing well. Why do you ask?" Ruggie: "No reason, really. Just, y'know...it'd be funny if Rollo thought we were plotting something right behind him." Malleus: "Oh that's brilliant. Let us continue, then."

[dotthings]

You know who I feel sad for right now is Misha, because I think he wanted to be able to speak much much earlier than he was able to about Cas’s confession. We know he drafted an essay about Cas’s coming out…and then wound up not publishing it. Misha deserved to be able to talk about it in interviews the way Oliver Stark is able to about Buck. Misha mentioned it on zoom calls, briefly. And then it seems like he got yanked back by the PR machine and the nature of Cas’s confession wasn’t discussed on any SPN PR materials and for a time Misha was restricted on what he could say on CE Con stages.

At first, back then, for a few glorious days, I thought the stigma about queer Cas, about Destiel, had been lifted, finally, and then WB/CW brought the restrictions back down via PR. Oh you can have your confession scene, SPN, but corporate will control the narrative on how it’s spoken about or not.

We saw this thaw over time. (Anyone who claims otherwise or that Misha was always able to be open about it, is lying). Now Misha can speak openly about it and that shift began around the time when Chaos Machine really set up shop and changed a few con policies. So I’m happy for Misha that he can speak only about Cas being queer and what the confession means and Cas coming out, but he still has yet to be able to speak in depth about it in major PR. The openness about it comes out on con stage. At first it was non-CE Cons. Then finally he was more able to speak freely on CE Con stages.

Which leads me to another point, which is that, in fact, any of us who thought Cas was supposed to be in the series finale? We were right all along. The PR Misha filmed meant to mislead and misdirect about his last episode…PR misdirect to cover up so it could be a surprise, which makes sense and is sometimes how PR is run. Remember that the production shutdowns of the pandemic happened during the first days of filming 15.19. We found out eventually Dean and Cas were planned to be seen at the Roadhouse bar in Heaven together.

When they filmed 15.18 everyone thought Cas would at least cameo in 15.20. During the filming of 15.18 nobody directly involved knew how far Cas would be shoved out of the story, the actors didn’t know, the writer didn’t know, the director didn’t know, how far 15.20 would be stripped back, no one knew how reduced even mere mentions would be in 15.20.

I’ve talked about this before but a reminder how screwed the spn creatives who worked on 15.18 were, how screwed over the actors were.

You were right. If you thought that there was going to be at least some satisfaction and closure and Cas was going to have one more appearance before the end and it wouldn’t be able to be loud open canon, but something that implied mutual canon Destiel.

We were right. We were right all along.

Antis on twitter dot com can keep scratching and clawing and harassing and gaslighting and spewing phobic comments, denying what Jensen’s views are and dening that corporate censorship is real and that bi Dean is canonical via queer coding and queer Cas is now loud open canon and Destiel is mutual, via canon queer coding. Won’t change what happened here or that the intent was so, so much better and more than what 15.20 delivered, and the reason it fell apart was the production shutdown gave some parties high up too much time to think and then interfere and cut Cas out.

There is no more room to indulge media illiteracy and malicious denialism and trolling from antis.

[it-happened-one-fic]

Knew Exactly What He Was Doing - Silver

Author Notes: So, fun fact time. I actually wrote this the same day I wrote the "Sparring Sessions" Silver fic, with this one getting written first. So the sparring sessions mentioned in this fic relate to the contents of that. I didn't really listen to anything specific while writing this, it was really more that I just thought it would be fun to characterize Silver with just a dash of the meaness our faerie boys have since was raised by Lilia and Malleus. As per usual, reader is gender-neutral. I hope you enjoy!

Type: Gender-neutral reader/ fluff/ platonic or romantic

Word count: 1534

I stood next to Silver, watching from a safe distance as yet another fight was resolved in the courtyard. 

Ever since that one day when I’d nearly been hit by a badly missed punch courtesy of a Savanaclaw junior who’d been dodged by a Pomefiore sophomore, it had become customary for Silver to shadow me. Though I didn’t know if it was by his choice or if he was a Hornton-appointed guardian for me.

I glanced up at the young knight, just about to comment on how the teachers had made it here faster than usual when I heard it.

“SILVER!” Sebek’s voice came like a sonic blast from across the courtyard, making me jump about a foot in the air as my head snapped to the side to look at the half-faerie man. 

Silver, at odds with my skittish reaction, merely turned his head with his usual calmness. By now he was probably used to Sebek’s loud nature, but I didn’t know if I would ever truly get used to my classmate’s yelling.

I watched as Sebek glared, holding eye contact with Silver as he gestured at me vehemently and then mimed widening the space between me and Silver. 

I sighed softly at his theatrics because, at this point, it was nothing new.

Sebek, though a sweet boy who was always looking out for me, was quite prudish. After all, he was the one who had a long and detailed plan for wooing someone that involved penning several missives and, after a whole thirty-five moons, finally sitting with a person’s width between him and the object of his affections.

The fact that Silver was standing right next to me was probably quite scandalizing to him considering he had, at some point, decided that Silver was interested in me. Or at least something along those lines. 

Lilia may or may not have had something to do with that assumption of his, but that was neither here nor there at the moment.

 Ever since Sebek had reached his decision, he had been belligerently attempting to keep Silver at what he deemed a respectable distance from my person. However far that distance may be.

I smiled reassuringly towards Sebek and waved, mouthing that all was well in a feeble attempt to calm the excitable young man, but I was far too late. Because when it came right down to it, despite Silver’s angelic looks, the young man had a mean streak all his own. 

I’d found this out the hard way shortly after I’d started really getting to know him. 

Though perhaps a mean streak wasn’t the right way to put it. After all, Silver would never do anything outright mean. Because while he did like to pick on people, Silver was also genuinely nice. He was just a horrible tease with an impressive poker face. 

I could only assume Silver had learned to be such a fart from either his father or Malleus. Both of whom were just as much, if not more, of a mess than Silver.

What was important to remember, though, was that the supposedly well-behaved knight probably reached his worst when he was messing with Sebek. 

I was fairly certain he simply enjoyed riling Sebek up and watching the younger man’s reaction. And, to be fair, Sebek did have some glorious reactions. 

The only problem was that I was often the best, handiest, and most efficient way to rile Sebek up. Simply because Silver could attack Sebek’s prudish nature via me.

What was worse was that Silver hadn’t minded messing with me ever since I’d started learning swordsmanship from him. May those many, many sparring sessions never go forgotten. 

I watched as Sebek stiffened and knew that Silver was up to something immediately. And sure enough, I felt a hand on my waist that tugged me closer till I was fairly well plastered to Silver’s side. 

There definitely wasn’t a person’s width between us now.

 I looked up only to find that Silver’s expression was his usual, innocently stoic one that he so often used as his poker face. As if on cue, I immediately heard Sebek, “YOU-!” 

The freshman sputtered out what sounded like the beginning of several different complaints before releasing something akin to a frustrated growl.

Oh, this was gonna be a doozy. Sebek couldn’t even talk right. 

Silver was not done, though. Ever innocent-looking, he leaned down to speak to me, “Where’s your next class?” 

Silver's voice was soft as he whispered in my ear, his breath tickling the outer shell of my ear and causing me to shudder at the sensation. In the distance, I could hear Sebek release some form of outraged screech while I fought to not react to Silver’s proximity.

 It simply wasn’t fair. I couldn’t deny that this was definitely an easy way to mess with Sebek, but it definitely wasn’t easy on me considering Silver was confoundingly good-looking but seemingly unaware of his effect on anyone who had eyes and weren’t a member of his little family group.

After stuttering out several more rather incoherent words, Sebek at last bellowed a very loud, “DEBAUCHERY!!” His voice alone had students scattering and poor Trein looking up in alarm and confusion.

Off to the side, I could see Ace and Epel all but choking with laughter while Deuce and Jack shook their heads. But I couldn’t entirely blame Ace and Epel for laughing. 

They were simply watching and didn’t know that this was, in fact, a very pointed attack on Sebek by Silver. So all they saw was me fighting embarrassment, an outraged Sebek, and a completely calm Silver, who they probably assumed was too dumb to figure out what was going on.

And to be fair, I still wasn’t entirely clear on if Silver knew that he was also messing with me when he messed with Sebek. After all, it was almost impossible to tell with that poker face of his.

Which was why I simply fought my embarrassment without retaliating, even though I was already growing fidgety due to the raw amount of attention we were garnering. And that wasn’t even factoring Silver himself into the equation.

But I wasn’t about to react. Not when I was doing my very best to avoid ever entering the range of Silver or his father’s hit list for harassment and teasing.

So I merely inhaled, a little too sharply to be honest, and answered, “Potionology.… Do we have this one together?”

Silver let out a hum before straightening and nodding, affirming my thoughts and giving me room to breathe a little more calmly at the same time, “Sebek will be there too….” He trailed off and glanced over to see Sebek marching towards us, ready to scold Silver as soon as he reached us.

Unfortunately for him, Silver apparently had no interest in being scolded since he calmly started forward. Tugging me along with him easily as he kept me close to him. 

At this point, it was quite possible that he simply didn’t want to lose me in the crowd. But in reality I wasn’t convinced that keeping me tucked up against his side didn’t also serve to only further incense Sebek.

I stumbled slightly and shot a look up at Silver, catching the subtle amusement in his eyes as he glanced down at me, but adjusted his pace accordingly. 

He easily navigated the crowd, though, putting as many people between us and our very loud friend as possible in minimal time.

I fought against the urge to say something as a childish attempt to get back at him but couldn’t quite stop myself from retaliating, “Don’t fall asleep this time. Remember what happened last time?”

He nodded slightly, his face a perfect mask of calmness that meant he probably didn’t recognize my retaliation for what it was, “Of course, Sebek will hardly let me forget.”

He tilted his head in a thoughtful manner, those strange eyes of his flicking towards where a clock hung on a wall before meeting my eyes again, a slight smile slipping onto his face, “If we make it in time, we should be able to work together.” 

I smiled slightly at his words because at least with this, I could trust Silver to just be helpful. He took his lessons seriously, even if he did have a nasty habit of falling asleep. But, if paired with me, he could trust me to keep him awake, and I could trust him to help with necessary magic spells. 

But then he continued, “Since Sebek and Fa⏤ Lilia will be in this class too. I’ll have to do my best not to disappoint.”

Oh…. It was always worse if Lilia was around. He was an enabler of all chaos and was especially proud when his ‘air-headed’ son was ‘innocently’ at fault. 

I almost frowned at the man next to me as we started off towards our class.

Air-headed my butt. Little rat knew exactly what he was doing. 

Or at least he did when it came to Sebek. I could only pray he didn’t when it came to me, because then who knew what I’d have to do to survive.

[theplaceyoustillrememberdreaming]

Nicole Reads A Lot of Fanfiction (and she's gonna share it with you): Week 16

Week [1] [2] [3] [4/5/6] [7] [8] [9] [10/11] [12/13] [14] [15]

Alright. Here we are with Week 16.

It's been a week of living in Delulu land. A warning for this Rec List: if the fic is in orange (or contains orange like that one fic I did in both colors) it is a POST 8x15 Fic. Now some might be a little speculation or ignoring canon but... If you are not in the mental space for what that may entail, stay clear of those fics :)

Sterek: 2 Buddie: 18 (8 post 8x15)

Find Me At The Tree (Waiting For You) by Arvak (2025•M•15.8K)

He'd seen it on the Nature Channel: Yellowstone National Park, one of the greatest marvels of nature, nestled right nearby in the good ol' Western States. And on a complete whim, he'd decided to pack the car and hit the road to get the hell away from customers and bosses and traffic and bills. He never expected to come face to face with a wolf. Or, rather, a werewolf who'd had very similar thoughts to his own, and who was much worse at social interaction. - OR - A total therapy fic about escape and freedom and achieving a better life that I hope you might enjoy as well.

Magna Cum Ardoriter by Waddiwasii | @waddi-writes (2025•E•31.8K)

Stiles can’t help but feel like he’s been lied to. Legally Blonde all but guaranteed immediate mastery over all coursework and an effortless discovery of his one true purpose. Instead, every class is a confusing nightmare, and the only revelation he’s had so far is that he might actually be too socially incompetent to make friends. Given that the sum of his accumulated attempts at having a quintessential, life-changing college experience is a resounding zero, Stiles is left with one very disappointing conclusion: Elle Woods is a fucking liar.

Ice Cream Trucks by glorious_spoon | @glorious-spoon (2025•M•1.2K)

"What's so funny?" Eddie murmurs. He's pressed so close Buck can't see his expression, but he can feel the shape of his smile against his jaw, and that's even better. "Nothing, nothing," Buck says, breathless, and kisses him again, because he gets to do that now apparently. "I just can't believe this is happening. Feels like a dream." "You have a lot of dreams about me?" Eddie asks, in a tone that's definitely trying to be smooth but is just a little too uneven to completely pull it off.

want to feel you when I'm falling in love by smilingbuckley | @smilingbuckley (2025•GA•1.0K)

Buck keeps getting cold at night and struggles falling asleep. Eddie cuddles him about it. -- There’s grumbling next to him before the duvet shifts. “Come here.” “What?” Buck’s voice is too loud for two in the morning. “Come here,” Eddie repeats. Buck’s been awake long enough for his eyes to have adjusted to the dark. Eddie’s hair is ruffled, standing up at the top. His hand is motioning Buck to come closer. “Why?” Buck asks instead of doing what Eddie asks him to, still confused. Eddie sighs, “Body heat.” Buck blinks. Okay, normally he’s a smart guy, okay? But it is 2 in the morning and Buck is freezing his ass off and they had a long shift the day before. When Buck doesn’t move, Eddie sighs again and pulls him closer. And… oh.

pushing the limits by Tizniz | @tizniz (2025•GA•5.3K)

The point though is that Buck doesn’t push his magic. He doesn’t know his limits. And that proves to be a problem.

slide into home base by sibylsleaves | @jeeyunspetrat (2025•E•5.1K)

Eddie's the star pitcher of the 118's intramural softball team. Buck is the assistant coach who has a few pointers for him.

Exhibit B by Daisies_and_Briars | @cal-daisies-and-briars (2025•T•10.8K)

Seven years in the future, an adult Christopher has a chance to see his grandparents - and subsequently, his father - in a new light, on a family trip to El Paso.

god loves you, but not enough to save you by justhockey | @everything-i-am (2025•E•30.3K)

He’s big, is the first thing Eddie notices about him. Not just his body - though his shoulders are broad and his biceps are thick - but his presence, too. He’s so commanding that he’s impossible to miss; he draws all of Eddie’s attention even as he sits silent and motionless, like he’s trying to disappear. He has a halo of curls on his head and a shock of pink above his left eye. Angel, Eddie thinks, and something twists uncomfortably inside his chest. Or: Eddie is a priest, and Buck is a firefighter, and once their worlds collide nothing will ever be the same again.

room for two by 42hrb | @exhuastedpigeon (2025•E•3.3K)

“Dude, you’re not sleeping on the couch, you pay half the rent,” Eddie pushes Buck into the bedroom when he walks out of the bathroom on the third night of Buck’s 4 off. He’s almost dreading Eddie coming back to work next shift, then he’ll have no reprieve. “I promise I don’t bite — not unless you ask nicely.” Oh Buck is so fucked, but there’s really no way out of it. At least not while Eddie is awake. Buck decides he’s going to lay in bed and wait until Eddie falls asleep and then he’ll sneak out and onto the couch. “Yeah, fine,” he huffs and lets himself be bullied into the bedroom. 

The Eddie Diaz Lore Drop by onedropstories (2025•GA•6.0K)

Chimney sighed. “Well, man, like I said earlier, of course you can bring him.” Hen watched her best friend deflate into the couch cushions, eyes drifting to the ceiling. “Man, I was not expecting this Eddie Diaz lore drop today.” He turned back to Eddie. “Got any more secret family announcements in your pocket?” “...can I bring my kids?” “Your WHAT-”

just one single glimpse of relief (with you i serve with you i fall) by instantcaramel | @toxicpositivitybuddie (2025•GA•2.2K)

“Someone has to tell Eddie. I have to call him. I have to - have to tell him and Chris. I have to call them.” He knows he sounds frantic, almost panicked, but he can’t calm himself down. “I have to tell them. I have to - “ He sobs into his own hands, and he just wants to collapse to the ground again. or; There's only one person Buck wants to talk to tonight. (Coda to 8x15 Lab Rats)

won't say it (don't make me say it) by Tizniz | @tizniz (2025•NR•1.3K)

There’s absolute silence for a few seconds, and then there’s this broken and wounded sound. Eddie bolts up in bed, heart racing in his chest, “Buck?” “H-he’s…he’s…” Buck chokes out another sob. He sounds like…well, like he’s dying. OR: Eddie finds out.

all the quiet nights by becausebuckley | @becausebuckley (2025•T•3.8K)

“You don’t have to do that,” Buck says, averting his eyes as Eddie’s fingers begin working at his belt. “It’s just my wrist.” “Just- just let me take care of you,” Eddie says. It’s a question, but it comes out somewhere between a statement and a plea. “Please.” or: eddie takes care of buck.

who the hell likes living just to die? by BekkaChaos | @bekkachaos (2025•T•1.7K)

Set after the events of 8x15, Eddie gets a phone call.

i can take the pillowcases off the yellow pillows by atlasblue85 | @atlasblue85 (2025•GA•1.6K)

It almost sounds like someone is crying. He heads toward the source of the sound – Christopher’s room, except he knows Christopher is outside goofing off with his cousins. “Eddie?” he calls again, gently nudging the door open. He’s greeted by an unfamiliar sight: his son, sitting on the floor of his old bedroom, sobbing.

the autumn chill that wakes me up, you loved the amber skies so much by deanvrse (2025•GA•3.7K)

“I heard Maddie won’t be walking you down the aisle.” At those words, Buck’s face shifts. The flicker of a smile fades, replaced by something smaller—something quieter. He glances down, avoiding Bobby’s eyes in the mirror. “Yeah,” he says softly. “She’s officiating, so… I guess I’ll just walk myself down the aisle.” He shrugs, trying to play it off like it doesn’t matter, but Bobby sees the way his jaw clenches, the way his shoulders tense again like they’ve been carrying that thought all morning. Bobby’s hands still on the tie. He doesn’t speak right away. “Or—” he says eventually, voice gentle, “I could do it.”

Or it’s Buck and Eddie’s wedding day and Bobby is their gentle pillar

i fear the worst (how could you leave us all behind?) by buckleysbest | @langdonsmel (2025•GA•673w)

Eddie gets the call at 9:32 on a Friday morning.

It was night (when you died) by ranbling | @ranbling (2025•T•1.3K)

Eddie gets the first text a little after 10 pm, it's Karen telling him everyone is okay. Buck calls him after midnight. "Buck? You there?" he breaks the silence and it feels wrong. It feels like the calm before the storm, the calm before something goes wrong on a call. It feels like the calm before he got shot by a sniper in the sunlight, before Buck got struck by lightning. "I-it's, it's Bobby" Buck chokes out.

killing time at the cemetery by playinginthunderstorms | @playinginthunderstorms (2025•T•1.8K)

You’re gonna be okay, Buck, he’d said. They’re gonna need you, he’d said. Captain’s orders. Buck will not fail him. Not ever again.

and longingly i long by effervescentwolf | @effervescentwolf (2025•M•13.9K)

He’s still greedy, even now. Still can’t figure out how to loosen his grip on it just a little, knuckles white with how hard he’s holding on, but he’s trying so hard to give Eddie space and time because he asked for it, because when they got together, Eddie couldn’t seem to stop looking at him when he asked Buck to be patient with him, couldn’t hide the nerves from his voice, the vulnerability of his open chest, the honesty in his fingers against Buck’s wrist where he’d held on so gently as if he was afraid to come any closer. So Buck is trying, to just sink into having it rather than wanting more, to let it be enough rather than him being too much, and he’s been doing good, mostly. He’s been doing good. - Or asking for what you want is asking too much of Buck, except it isn’t really. Not when it’s Eddie.

[livwritesstuff]

i was writing a totally different thing and then all of a sudden it was thundering so here have this

Steve had always loved a good thunderstorm. There’s something sort of magic about them, he thinks, about the greenish, unnatural darkness and the way lightning turns the sky a kind of purple and how the air is both cool and warm at the same time.

Back when he was a teenager, when he was stuck by himself the mausoleum his parents called home, he’d sometimes sit by the patio door and watch the storm, watch the clouds opened up and beat rain down on the pool water, and Steve would feel more alive than he had in ages – even if it felt like he was living vicariously through…something. Maybe through how nature gets to storm and rage in a way Steve never will.

But he tries not to psychoanalyze himself. He’s got his own therapist for that.

Twenty-five years later, here he is still watching thunderstorms. He might not have a pool, but he does have a porch which, in his old age of forty-two, he’s learning might be even better.

He’s sitting on the porch with his husband by his side, and Eddie’s got their youngest daughter sitting in his lap while the older two dance in and out of the rain.

Eddie doesn’t like thunderstorms the way Steve does. It had sort of surprised Steve actually, when he first found out years and years ago because…it’s Eddie. Eddie is like a thunderstorm personified in the best way – all sharp smiles and dark eyes and wild hair and loud, reckless rebellion. Sure, Eddie isn’t bothered by the noise of thunderstorms, but over their years together, Eddie has shared some things — things about his dad and what he’d been able to get away with during a dark, loud storm that maybe he couldn’t otherwise.

So Steve gets it if Eddie still isn’t quite himself during thunderstorms.

Their youngest, Hazel, isn’t a fan of them either. She’s just a few months shy of her second birthday, so this really is the first summer she’s had her own opinions about these kinds of things. The verdict – not a fan of the thunderstorms, though she’s been a trooper about this one.

"Hazy, come play!" Robbie exclaims from the porch steps, but Hazel just shrinks further back against Eddie.

"She's a little afraid of the noise, Beans," Steve tells her, and he watches Robbie's face take on an expression of protective (albeit a little confused) concern.

“How come?” she asks as comes up the steps.

“It can be scary if it’s brand new.”

As if to illustrate Steve’s point, lightning flashes above the trees, and Hazel makes a whimpery kind of whine as thunder follows only a few moments later.

“It’s not scary, Hazel,” Robbie tells her, “Because you always know when thunder’s coming because lightning comes first. And it’s only loud when the storm is close.”

Steve raises his eyebrows, reminding himself that one of these days he’s gotta stop being so impressed by how damn smart his kids are.

Another flash of lighting lights up the dark sky, and Robbie covers Hazel's ears with her hands as she looks out into the rain, "And now there's gonna be the thunder."

A few moments later, thunder rumbled around them, maybe a little bit quieter than the last one because the storm is definitely moving away from them now. Still, Hazel reaches up to grip at Robbie’s wrists, her eyes wide and fixated on the stormy sky.

“See?”

Hazel manages a nod.

“Come play!” Robbie urges her again, “I’ll cover your ears before the thunder comes.”

And this time, Robbie actually succeeds in dislodging Hazel from Eddie’s lap, and together they head for the front yard where Moe is still running around in the rain, wet bangs plastered to her forehead.

“Steve,” Eddie mutters in disbelief as Robbie patiently waits for Hazel’s slow descent of the porch stairs, breaking his and Steve’s subconscious agreement to keep their traps shut while that glorious scene was unfolding, “Oh my god, Steve. What the fuck was that? Are we actually doing a good job raising these kids?”

“I guess so, Jesus Christ.” 

[cloakedpress]

🖋️ WRITING DIALOGUE THAT DOESN’T SUCK (EVEN A LITTLE BIT)

Filed under: Writing Tips, Writer Problems, Mysteriously Good Prose

So. You’re writing a scene. It’s tense. Maybe someone just confessed to murder—or worse, love. You lean back, crack your knuckles, and then…

Your characters start talking like they're auditioning for a soap opera in purgatory.

Don’t panic. Cloaked Press is here to help you un-suckify your dialogue.

🌕 1. IF IT SOUNDS LIKE A SCREENPLAY FROM THE VOID, DELETE IT. Bad dialogue often tries too hard to sound dramatic. You know the kind:

“I can’t believe you, Veronica. After everything.” “Don’t you see? I had to steal the emerald dagger. For us.”

No one talks like this. Not even cursed pirate lovers from the 18th century.

Try this instead:

“You always think I owe you.” “I didn’t do it for you. I did it so we’d both live.”

Still dramatic. Still juicy. But believable.

🌘 2. EVERY LINE SHOULD DO SOMETHING. Dialogue isn’t filler. It’s not there to kill time until the next werewolf attack or necromancer duel. It should:

Reveal character

Build tension

Advance the plot

Or be so charming we want to tattoo it on our forearm

If it doesn’t do any of those, cut it like it just betrayed the protagonist.

🌒 3. GIVE YOUR CHARACTERS DIFFERENT VOICES (NO, REALLY) All your characters shouldn’t sound like you with a thesaurus. One mumbles. One over-explains. One says “fuck” like it’s a comma.

Think of dialogue like fingerprints. No two should match.

🌑 4. SUBTEXT IS YOUR DARK AND GLORIOUS FRIEND. What characters don’t say is often more powerful than what they do.

“You’re late.” “Traffic.” “Right.” She doesn’t ask why he smells like blood.

That’s tension. That’s mystery. That’s 👏 how 👏 we 👏 do 👏 it.

🌗 5. READ IT OUT LOUD. CRINGE TEST ENGAGED. If it makes you wince when you read it, congrats. You found the bad line. Fix it or bury it under the floorboards.

Bonus: hearing it aloud helps you catch rhythm, pacing, and any unintentional comedy.

✨ Final Spell: Great dialogue feels natural, but it’s actually sneaky and intentional. Like a fae bargain. Or your favorite villain.

So revise. Listen. And don’t be afraid to make it weird.

Darkly yours, —The Cloaked Press Team 🖤