#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 🐜 ◇

[maruflix]

YOU ARE SO GORGEOUS (IT MAKES ME SO MAD!)

𝜗𝜚 synopsis: 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.

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

word count: 2.0k

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.

taglist: @bgyuus, @plsmarrymehioriyo, @o-sachi, @vashyuu, @moon-cakiie, @17020, @eeiternity, @ryescapades

[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.

[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.

[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.” 

[ontheoddoccasioniwritestuff]

Subtle-tea (Benedict Bridgerton x Reader)

Summary/Prompt: “You’re only semi-lucid and are sort of reaching for my face, and for various reasons I shouldn’t kiss YOUR face but your hand is right here and I still need to convey affection.”  AKA. You and Benedict drink too much of Colin’s special tea and it spurs you to act upon previously hidden feelings. 

AN: Benedict is the bee’s knees, just a silly lil art guy. I got inspired and I’ve got two more Benedict fics coming out rip. But it’s just so difficult to write for Bridgerton cus you can’t write any gay stuff without it being tragic and/or a secret. Oh well, don’t expect me to write much more female reader content of my own volition/not inspired by my friends.

Content warnings: Reader uses she/her, use of Y/N and L/N, is referred to as “wife” 

Masterlist // AO3 

You had no idea what on Earth was in that tea. But you would have to ask later, because currently you felt as light as a feather and giddy as a giggle, laying on the sofa in the art studio as Benedict was launching himself between two walls, orating about his great desires to create. By far, you were experiencing the greatest emotions on the whim of your artistic associate.

“There’s just so many colours that we are privy to, and we take every single shade for granted!” He declared, his arms wide open to the heavens.

You pointed at him in an accusing manner, “Have you seen purple recently? It’s glorious! No wonder it was the colour of status in the Roman Empire, I too would want it all for myself and my friends.”

“How selfish you are, Miss L/N,” Benedict scolded, “Surely everyone should be given the chance to wear such a colour.”

His anger faded fast. As endearing as it was, it was nothing compared to that grin of his. So naturally you decided to make him smile even more with a ridiculous notion that just jumped into your woozy mind. 

“Do you know what would happen if my mother knew where I was?” You said in a loud whisper. 

Benedict pouted and nodded, riddled with pantomime guilt as he leant over, “You. Me. In a room. Alone.”

“Unchaperoned,” You said then gasped, your hands clapping against your cheeks in shock, “I would be ruined!”

Benedict mimicked your appal by dropping to his knees before you, “We would have to marry to save your reputation!”

“Imagine me, your wife!” You threw your head back as you flashed your bare left hand to him. Somewhere in the back of your mind, an inhibition screamed at you to stop lingering so openly on something your sober self was set on not happening

But your heart grew gleeful as Benedict grasped your hand gently. 

“I shall imagine it!” He declared and lowered his lips, and planted a loud kiss upon your knuckle - right where the engagement and wedding bands would sit. You lowered your chin just in time to see this with your own eyes before Benedict met your gaze again, still beaming with roguish delight, “Oh what a beautiful imagining it is.”

Your legs curled up beneath you on the couch, and you fell over in hysterical giggling. You clasped your hand to your chest and cradled it like a newborn. As you lay sprawled out, Benedict popped into your field of view with his hands either side of your head, tactfully avoiding your hair. 

“Your laugh is like music! As your husband, it would be my purpose to make you sing at least once a day.”

“Then kiss me again, you silly man!” You squealed, offering your hand once more. 

Balancing on one arm, and completely unaware that this compromising position was aiding in your dizzy frenzy, Benedict kissed the same spot then turned the palm against his cheek. He held it there as he said:

“Look, it’s like you were sculpted to hold me.”

Euphoria ran riot across your body, your heart beating so fast you thought you would die from delight. 

“And you were carved to be held by me.” From your vantage point, with newly founded confidence, you tried to pull his lips down to yours, but Benedict resisted. 

“We shall not kiss ‘til we are married.”

Eyes wide, you squeezed the back of his neck to keep him close, “Is this a proposal?”

“I do not think we are in the right state of mind to make rational decisions,” and Benedict bumped his nose to yours, causing a little laughter before continuing: “But marrying you is the sanest idea I’ve had all evening.”

[rocketbirdie]

Arrrghh. People are finishing up Rebirth and looking up the different localizations, and the inevitable wave of hate for the English version is starting to gain traction again just like with Remake. I guess I just get super defensive about it because I have worked on large translation projects before, and it's not as straightforward as players seem to think.

It's not like the good ol' days of "This Guy Are Sick." They don't write the JPN script first, and then just send it out for translation anymore. Nowadays the different language scripts are all written simultaneously, with the teams working back and forth together, to check over each ofher's work and make sure that no one sentence is under- or overshooting a goal. Like it or not— everything is checked over and approved.

There's a lot more being translated than just words. There's so much to take into account— tone of voice, the cultural context, the lip sync and corresponding length of each line (which isn't allowed to run over by more than 0.2 seconds which is CRAZY). It's a messy process and it's a lot of goddamn work.

And then there's the audience, too. Different languages' audiences are often going to have wildly different interpretations of a character. A really good example from FFVII would be Yuffie. In the JPN version of the OG, Yuffie is written to be a confident girl who's dead serious about her ninja training. The ENG translation didn't do that justice... she instead comes off as a silly annoying kid pretending to be a ninja. Remake's DLC was testing the waters to see if they could write Yuffie in a way that's still faithful to both of the strikingly different regional perceptions of her character. And they nailed it.

The same thing happened with Cloud, and continues to influence the way he's written in the Re-trilogy. It's much more subtle than with Yuffie, but it's still noticeable, and I think it's why a lot of people get up in arms about his dialogue.

Cloud has always been written as having a stark disconnect between his tone of voice and his choice of words. It's just that the two major languages get it swapped! JPN Cloud has a harsh, mean tone, but his choice of words is polite and easygoing. On the other hand, ENG Cloud says a LOT of nasty shit out loud, but his true feelings are betrayed by his soft voice and gentle body language.

The difference goes unnoticed by the average player who isn't so invested to give a damn. But if you're actively searching for "bad translations" to get mad at, then you'll find them where one version's Cloud comes off a bit too strong. It's only natural that English Cloud is the one that pisses people off more often— after all, he's literally saying stupid shit to to piss other characters off constantly. His character is so convincing that players want to reach into their screens and wring his neck, and I think that's glorious.

But that's why it upsets me to see people turn that frustration at the localization teams. They didn't "ruin" a character's dialogue— they were just barely able to make something work, all things considered. Character, line length, culture, story context, facial animations, voice acting, for MULTIPLE languages, like... holy shit. It's a miracle that most of it is really really good, and that the bad is only a little bit bad.

Idk where this rant is going. Just... c'mon people. Have some respect for such an insanely complicated art form.

[stardewremixed]

So... I was scrolling through fanart which turned into impromptu stream-of-consciousness writing prompts. I hope you like how it turned out.

WARNING: (Mild) smut, references to alcohol, drugs, and smoking. (Does not assume Farmer's gender).

Abigail - Organizes the town charity softball games, breaks a few windows (and a few hearts). Tough girl to hide her insecurities - you know the ones - her parents don't get her or support her and she's lonely as an only child (still living at home with her parents). She has this smug side smile when she's got you right where she wants you and will argue with you over trivial matters because she has to be right. She pitches in when there's a town disaster, the first to roll up her sleeves, not afraid to get dirty and work hard. Would absolutely be the tank in your DnD party. She dominates no matter what sphere she's in, including the bedroom. And Abigail is as wild and adventurous in bed as she is out of it. Oh and you always do it at the farmhouse because she's loud (and her parents are light sleepers).

Penny - shy and sweet as usual, intimidated by the ladies of the town, especially Abigail and Haley. Always carrying books, keeps her head down, and her heart is plagued by being the daughter of an alcoholic and a sailor who abandoned her mom. Dreams of a Beast to rescue her Beauty, would kill (metaphorically) for that library and yellow ball gown, but doesn't actually believe she's that pretty, even though she's stunning and educated and articulate, when she's not stumbling over her words in painful shyness. Reads everything she can get her hands on. Would write a children's novel if she could ever work up the courage to ask Elliott to be her editor. She is the blushy kind of lover and reads up on tips and tries to apply what she's learned. You think it's freaking adorable when she asks for 'sex lessons.'

Haley is not a natural blond (*gasp*) - we know! We were shocked too. She's notoriously vain but it's to make up for the fact that her mother was a supermodel and never had time to be a real mom, so she desperately wants attention and to be noticed as beautiful and worthy. Critiques her nose, the shape of her breasts, her thighs, her brows, her hair style, and hopes to someday love herself as much as her mirror does. Got the Dino tattoo on her lower back as a drunken dare from Emily and now she kinda likes it because it makes her not so perfect for once and that's a relief. She wears the best lingerie - pretty, feminine, lacy. And her fantasy she shares with you after a few too many Cosmopolitans? To do it in front of a full length mirror.

Emily - yes the girl absolutely presses paste jewels on her face because why not? She's the cool big sis (stepsister of Haley). The free spirit. Blue hair. Who cares? Other people's opinions don't really define her. Always wearing multiple necklaces and bracelets and rings. This girl has rings. Believes in crystal healing. Lets her sleeve slip off her shoulder after one too many drinks at half-price karaoke nights. She gives you that side-eye, daring you to take her home. And this girl has got some freaky passion (in a good way of course) and yes, she's flexible. It's not that she is really into one night stands, but she doesn't get hung up on the morality of sex. She just goes where the wind blows and enjoys every moment. No expectations. No labels. Just serious fun.

Maru - is a powerhouse genius with a sort of perma-frown on her face when she's concentrating that's somehow annoyingly cute. It's never quite good enough - whatever she happens to be working on. She has those glorious thick curls always bouncing around as she moves from project to project with eager determination. Summer humidity might create the great frizz storm, but she's too focused to bother taming it. Her rims keep it out of her eyes. Always a gadget or two in this girl's hands and she doesn't mind the Inspector jokes. She is far too serious about science and technology to worry about (or even notice) the random taunts of a more average intelligence population. But just because she's super smart doesn't mean she isn't kind. It just might take her longer to notice you, but that hyperfixation, those beautiful eyes, when they are on you, it's really special.

Leah- when doesn't she have paint on her nose? Dried clay on her clothes? Ink beneath her fingernails? Art is her life and the forest outside her door is a veritable landscape of dreams, the mountain tat on her sleeve a mere imitation. Her thick and wild red braid flows free and swishes back and forth as she moves and every once in a while she gets self-conscious. She knows she is pretty but she would rather have someone notice and appreciate her art. But there's something super sexy about the half-buttoned shirt, suspenders, and the nervous tuck of hair over her ear. People fall in love with her everyday but not everyone stays, as she's learned. Still she perseveres and pursues her love of art, capturing raw, pure moments away from her former bustling city life. When you offered to pose for her and be a subject for her art, it wasn't initially meant to be sexual. But she couldn't hide the flicker of interest in her eyes. And then a few weeks later when you finally kissed good night in her doorway, it was like a fire had been released. You tore each other's clothes off and did it right there standing up, then again halfway to the bed and finally made it to the bed for the third round.

Sebastian - the wild, just-rolled-outta-bed hair that's too long and his mother is always saying he should cut it, but he doesn't listen, just like the warnings she gives about the cigs perched between his lips ("those things will kill ya"). Multiple piercings, skulls on shirts, arm bands, the ripped hoodies - all symbols of his rebellious youth carried on because he can't shake the ghosts of his past. Secretly afraid that he is just a teenage boy trapped in an adult body. Hiding behind clouds of smoke and blue glowing screens make it easier to deal with the fact that he didn't follow his dreams. Freelance programmer. Dungeon master. Designing s video game. Lives in his mom's unfinished basement because it's quiet and Maru used to be scared of the dark. So when he does surface and you remember he's alive, it's actually a big deal. He made an effort and when you thank him, he just shrugs in that sexy casual way and says he wanted to see you today. It's simple but so meaningful. He's quiet but he loves you in simple ways - stealing glances from his computer, using coupons to buy your favorite foods at Pierre's, and delivering a piece of furniture you bought at his mom's shop (and conveniently 'forgot' so he would have to bring it to you, and he knows this and did it anyway). Oh and there was the time your computer crashed in the middle of the night (yes, really) and you were in the middle of applying for a farm grant and thought you lost everything you'd been working on for weeks, and you cried and called him, and he came over to fix it and recovered the data. And you may have made out and landed in bed together after (it was a dark and stormy night and the rain is like an aphrodisiac for you). You apologized a dozen times and said this isn't what you called him for and it wasn't supposed to be a midnight booty call. He laughs and kisses you gently and says he wouldn't have minded it if it was because he's wanted you badly for so long. And you went for round 2.

Sam has so much energy, too much, and he usually channels it into making mix tapes, half-finishing songs, pranking Morris and Shane at JojaMart, and skating half-pipe. But if you thought he was an empty airhead, think again. Behind the beanies, cut off sleeves, and ripped jeans, the crazy hair, and goofy smiles, there's a heart of gold. He will kneel down and tie Vincent's shoes for the five hundredth time, even though his kid bro should know by now how to do it. He'll carry those groceries all the way back to Evelyn's house for her, chattering about animal shapes in the cloud and a wicked sweet song he heard on the radio. Maybe someday he will write a jingle for the airwaves too. He will work a double shift so Shane can take Jas to swim lessons or the dentist or because Marnie was irresponsible again and left his god niece alone again late at night. And he will always buy his friends a round at the Saloon. Even if he's broke and spent all his coin on some vintage rock vinyls and the sugary cereal obsession of the week. He's a kid at heart, but he rocks hard and loves hard. That youthful exuberance is just what you need - bubble baths with rubber ducks, half-burnt pizza, dollar stor rose petals, and (root) beers in bed, making you giggle when he gives you foot massages, and tickling you with his tongue (oh yes, he knows all your sweet spots)!

Harvey may be older and mild-mannered, but he remembers little details about all his patients, whom he has come to know as friends and surrogate family. He never met his dad, his mom passed when he was a kid, and he was raised by his grandpa on canned pork and beans, microwave dinners, and model planes. His grandpa was a man of a few words, but they would paint models every evening. Sometimes they'd go out to the airstrip and watch planes take off and Grandpa would reminisce about the "good Ole days" when he still flew in the Air Force. And he always wore ties so the doc has kept up the tradition, and he still wears the coats with the elbow patches that smell of pipe tobacco and peppermint. And even though grandpa has been gone for a dozen or so years, Harvey still paints models most evenings. And every once in a while, he drives out to that airstrip with you to watch the planes while eating tunafish and pickle sandwiches and sipping wine in paper cups. And when he holds your hand, when he puts his arm around you, when he makes love to you, it's like he fits in your life and your body perfectly. Oh yes! The doctor is in!

Elliott - for all his flowery prose, his day to day speech is actually pretty down to earth once you get to know him. Maybe he comes across as a bit of a snob with his extensive vocabulary, but he really just wants to impress you, not turn you off. He (literally) likes long walks on the beach, dreamy piano sonatas, and long soulful ballads. On Chat nights you can find him loosening his ties, letting his hair down, and kicking back a pint with his BFF at the bar. He is never awake before 9:30 or 10 because his writer brain comes alive late at night. He has a flawless complexion (and he's proud of his skin care and hair routine). Inspiration might strike anywhere so he always carries a pen and notepad in his pocket and says things like "can I quote you on that?" for the Pelican Town Times, a newspaper he's trying to revive and has a circulation of maybe 3 people. He's always publishing poems under a pseudonym but his unpublished novel is his pride and joy and he doesn't let anybody read it so when he finally shares an excerpt with you one day it's a really important moment. And of course, when he does finally publish, the dedication is to you, which will make you cry, and he also dedicate it to the particularly bothersome seagull, which makes you laugh, the one that always squawks at the most inopportune times like when you two are trying to "have a romantic moment." His bed might be a little creaky and his cabin a bit drafty, but he treats you and your body like royalty (and to regular nightly full body massages).

Alex - yeah, he's not a complicated guy. He likes sports, surf, and sun. Granny has been his favorite, the first woman in his heart, and he's kinda spoiled by all her love and attention (yes she still cuts the crusts off his sandwiches and does his laundry), but he isn't a brat. He can fix a leaky roof, a leaky sink, a leaky sprinkler system. He mows the entire practice field at the high school in the spring, rakes leaves in the fall and shovels snow in the winter for his neighbors. He still sells ice cream from time to time in the summer, but usually works as a seasonal lifeguard on Ginger Island. Sure, he might be a bit disconnected and doesn't always know what his partners want, but when he's wrong and you tell him, he admits it. And while he can lift you up on his shoulders so you can pick fruit in the orchard and he has the stamina of a Greek god in bed, he doesn't brag about it (at least not very often). He really just wants to make you happy above all else. Oh and he wants to be a dad someday.

Shane was like a drug, in the beginning - you're addicted to this man, dad bod, scruffy face, and all. You love him in spite of his mean and grumpy exterior. Somehow insults turn into foreplay. Maybe it's toxic but you don't care. This man sets records in bed, and he's not a one-hit wonder. As you start showing him affection and stick around despite his numerous attempts to scare him off, he realizes you're here to stay and maybe he can have something of a life again. So he cleans himself up, goes to therapy, quits drinking, and detoxes. Boy! It's not pretty. But it's worth it to him if it means he can have you. And that makes you love him all the more. Sure he's still addicted to Joja colas, but that's really not so bad. Nothing fazes him. Chasing down cows in a thunderstorm, setting Jas' broken arm, putting out a barn fire, rescuing you from a capsized fishing boat, carrying you out from the mines for the umpteenth time, even a chicken landing on his head while you're discussing favorite sex positions in the garden. Come on. That should have elicted a laugh. He's come a long way from that scowling drunk in the corner at the Saloon who just wanted angry hookup sex. He has become your rock just like you were for him all those years ago.

[vibratingskull]

NSFW Alphabet: Thrawn

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Very attentive. Will bath and massage you to help your relax.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He doesn't favor anything or his own body, it is simply a tool for him that he uses and models to accomplish his goals, so he would choose his brain. Loves everything about you, because it is you, but if you really press him for an answer he will say your soft hands that touch him so deliciously and your gorgeous eyes that say everything he wants to learn about your mood, headspace, thoughts,...

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Deeply wants a child with you, so he prefers to cum inside your pussy.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

It's only a secret until he asks your permission, but he craves to smell your dirty panties when separated from you during his rut, it helps him keep the urges in check.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Low experience, 1 to 0 former partner. He received a sexual education as any other Chiss and follows his desires and instincts but he is very attentive to your guidance. Very thorough and focused student, learns super fast.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Good ol' romantic missionary because he can hug you and see the pleasure on your face. Will negotiates hard and long until you accept to sit on his face

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Not really goofy but he still has his deadpan humor and sometimes you have to stop everything because you cannot stop laughing at one of his zesty remark while he considers you sternly.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

No hair anywhere but his glorious head

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Very loving and romantic! He will give you a lot of attention and tenderness

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Rarely masturbates, its more of a last resort.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Breeding, overstimulation, scent kink, delay, any "artsy" kink like Shibari (on you or himself)

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

The bedroom. His office or a closet if the rut is driving him insane, but this is exceptionally rare

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

The feeling of closeness, intimacy, vulnerability and warmth with you during the act and the aftercare provide him and the desire for a baby

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Nothing that could really hurt and is unsanitary or unhygienic

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Pro at giving, he is a natural at eating pussies and it is really fun to him. Appreciate receiving but prefers to give

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Slow and sensual usually, fast and rough during heat 

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Prefers to go big or go home so not a big fan of quicky, but will do it as a last resort during rut (but it leaves a bitter taste in his mouth)

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Willing to experiment whatever you want after proper research and in a controlled environment but he remains pretty vanilla himself

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

As an alien on top of his game and with a rut/heat, he can last way longer than you, that doesn't mean that he wants to tho...

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

His first toys were for you, and only thought of some for himself when he started to explore his submissive side with you

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Loves delay to make the pressure and tension rise so a big teaser during foreplay but will give so much during the main course! 

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Low hisses and growls usually, but will be very vocal when in subspace or when he eats you out.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Aroace king that slowly discovers that aspect of himself with you.

Bonus card : A glorious switch, will dom or sub like a pro

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Very long and girthy, like the rest of his body. Prayers to your body...

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Very low, like... You thought he was not attracted to you at first until he explained to you

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Will never fall asleep before you if he even has to sleep in the first place.

[fandomfluffandfuck]

Does the serum make Steve…. louder? Like his lung capacity is obviously more than the average. Did his vocal cords get super soldier-ed too?

Of course, that would mean that Bucky would have to gag him when they have sex. Especially the marathon, sweaty, desperate, edging, kind of sex where Steve just loses all control over his volume because he can’t even hear how loud he’s being over the the sound of his own blood pumping straight to his cock.

They have all kinds of gags so Bucky can control how loud he wants Steve to be since Steve can’t. Maybe even one that looks like the Winter Soldier mask.

Holy shit, I love this idea.

Even if lung capacity and/or vocal chord strength doesn't equate to volume in any meaningful way, my answer to this ask is fucking YES.

YES.

Yes, simply for the fact that I fucking love vocal partners. Major knee-buckling, weak spot for me. So, there's no way I can resist a louder Steve post-serum. Louder and more sensitive, which is just... irresistible 😮‍💨😮‍💨

This got out of hand, I'm supposed to be doing homework, not writing filth on Tumblr, lmao

And the mention of gags alongside the vocal-nature of this makes me think of this fic:

"Day 18: Leather/Latex" by hannahrhen

Anyway--

I can not get my mind off of vocal top Steve. There's 🤌🏻something about him🤌🏻

Imagine him, on top of Bucky, pressing him into the mattress with all his strength--back muscles rippling, so slim to so broad from his hips to his shoulders that it looks impossible, making your eyes almost roll back, just staring, his ass round and biteable, his thighs flexing, his dick putting in work, carving out space for himself inside Bucky.

Steve's shaking and sweating as his hips thrust, his movements so well practiced--fluid, but deep and hard, too. It's intense as fuck. Just how Bucky likes it. Feels so good.

And, God, the rhythm is more than enough to leave Steve's blonde hair hanging over his forehead, mused and sex-ruffled. He's glowing sweat, misted like a fucking Greek God, but so, so much better than pale, white marble he's pink and feverish, his heart pulsing wildly in his chest all the way down to his devastatingly hard dick.

His heart racing and racing as he pants with his mouth open, groaning lowly when Bucky clenches down on his thick cock hard, it makes Steve insane, so tight, he can't believe he fits inside his little hole, whimpering when Bucky tells him faster, faster, oh, ah, ah, ah, yes!, moaning right in Bucky's ear when Steve stops pinning his wrists to the bed, shifting to grab his shoulders and really pound him instead, and Bucky's hands grab at him greedily, wanting to feel his muscles work as he fucks him, pulling him down. He fucks him good and hard, using all his bulk to make Bucky fucking take it.

When he moans like that in his ear, making him crazy with want, Bucky might try to tilt his head to the side, panting just as hard, breath humid and thick, gasping for just a little oxygen between their mouths, begging for a sloppy, filthy kiss but Steve can't lock lips. He can't stop making sounds. The best he can do is moan right into his mouth.

It's so hot. The sounds.

The noises.

Gasping. Whining. Moaning. Panting. Groaning.

All these obscene sounds that mix intoxicatingly with the harsh, wet sound of their bodies colliding. Steve is fucking him hard. And it feels so good. It lights Bucky up--he's only dry kindling and Steve is a match, the friction between them lights them both. Flames lapping at their skin. Soon enough, it's hot enough to crackle and spread, and they're taking down the whole forest. Ignited. Unable to stop. Not when Steve sounds like that. Not when he moves like that, making Bucky see nothing but white-hot sparks.

Pleasured so good, Bucky can bite his tongue, groaning softly and panting and swearing under his labored breath as Steve lays into him like he wants him dead, pounding his prostate until he feels like he might burst, all this pleasure rushing like painful, aching, glorious, intense static through his veins. Steve can't bite his tongue, though.

Steve can't shut his fucking mouth.

Bucky loves it. He's so loud. When it's not mind meltingly hot to hear every hit of pleasure that he takes, it's hilarious because it's so goddamn inconvenient. As much as Bucky might want to bitch and moan about it, complaining that they'll never be able to have a quickie in some closet or bathroom or back of the car because they'll be found out immediately with Steve wailing like that... the moment he starts to feel irritated, he'll twitch or clench or grab, and Steve will just let out the most guttural, wanting sound at the perfect moment, leaving Bucky snickering. Combing a hand through his hair, cooing at his big, dumb, fucked-out face. Mouth-open moaning.

Yeah, Bucky's best guy is loud.

So, even when Bucky manages to reach up, muscles trembling as he goes boneless on Steve's dick, to jam a few fingers between his gaping, swollen lips... Steve's hardly muffled. He's distracted, sure, licking, tonguing, and slurping around his fingers as if they're his dick, but he's moaning too. He's moaning more. That part of Bucky's body in his mouth. How could it not be good? How could it not make his lungs punch out a sound of desire? Lust thick inside him.

Guh.

He's hot and wet and drooling around Bucky's fingers and not any fucking quieter. He might be louder, Jesus Christ.

Naturally, then, it escalates.

If fingers won't do it, what will? How can Bucky get Steve to a reasonable goddamn volume when they fuck? What about Bucky's underwear, literally ripped off of his body in impatience and now an otherwise useless scrap of fabric, stuffed into his mouth? What about Steve's own underwear? There's no difference, really, Bucky just wants it. How about the bottom hem of Steve's sweatshirt, pushed up and shoved between his teeth, giving Bucky an eye-crossing view of his clenching belly and bouncing tits as he fucks him? A ball gag? Bit gags (again, because Bucky wants it, Steve wants it, there's no reason why it would keep Steve's volume down when a ball doesn't, no matter how fat the intrusion is)? A scarf tied around the back of his head? A panel gag? A thick belt doubled over and pushed between drool-glistening lips? A strip of shiny tape slapped over his full, plush lips that leaves a red mark around his mouth like smeared lipstick when they're done, and Bucky tears it off of him? An inflatable gag that Bucky can pump more and more until Steve is whimpering about the fullness and stretch while he's pumping Bucky full?

What will it fucking take? And why is it so hot, the length they have to go to just to make sure that nobody interrupts them with how loose Steve's lips are. All whiny and needy, despite how Steve fucks like a champ. He sounds like he should be the one getting pounded into the mattress (or couch, or wall, or shoulder wall, or... yeah.)

What will it fucking take?

A muzzle?

Bucky jokes. It's a half serious suggestion while they have lazy, post-mission sex that is absolutely better than the sex anyone else is having when they're not exhausted and at the top of their game, thank you very much. Their uniforms are half on, on the way to getting suspicious stains, half revealing dirty, bruised skin--just enough to whip it out and to take it.

Steve is hesitant at first, considering their history with muzzles. He doesn't know if he could stand to do it. Especially if it's a full muzzle that covers the bottom of his face like what the soldier wore. But, later, when they're toweling off after their post-lazy-sex, lazy-shower-sex... the moment Bucky gives him that lazy, charming grin, popping his dimples, and drawls richly about the pleasure of taking the power back, feeling the reins in his own hands, calling the shots...

Oh, God.

Steve's stiff in his jeans immediately, and he needs to, at least, try. For Bucky's sake. Sure, Steve, Bucky's sake. It doesn't have to do with any kind of selfish need to see Bucky's eyes lit with fire, as he dangles a muzzle in front of his face, taunting him. Steve kneeling. Poised to crawl on his hands and knees toward the other man above him. Low enough he could kiss Bucky's feet. He could use his tongue to clean his boots, humming at the taste, knowing exactly where he's been by the grit on his teeth and tongue. Savoring it. Everything he's done for him. The hell he's walked through to get to him. Above him, Bucky's reclined on the edge of their bed, one hand behind him, leaning, all casual and powerful, alluring with his thighs spread wide, setting the muzzle in his lap before curling his finger smoothly. Wordlessly beckoning Steve over so he can shut him up and they can have fun without the neighbor's calling the cops... again.

Those sure, knowing fingers tilting Steve's head up with a mean grip on his chin and slipping the rigid leather onto his face, making sure he can't open his mouth to moan like hell when he's given the privilege of fucking Bucky.

Those fingers.

Those fingers that Steve's going to watch, silenced and muzzled, as they stretch and pry his tight, wet flesh open, preparing himself for Steve's cock. Propped up on his knees in front of Steve, his belly and chest to the bed, hips up, thighs invitingly wide, showing him where he's so tight and aching, but... not yet.

Steve can't touch yet.

And he can't beg to touch. Muzzled.

He can only swallow back sounds and stare desperately, longingly, saliva flooding his mouth.

While they're at it--Steve muzzled like a big, obedient puppy, so good and big as he slides into Bucky after he's stretched, squirming on his back, his thighs still wide open to give Steve a teasing glimpse of his wet hole--Bucky adds a collar for good measure.

A collar.

The strip of thick, dark leather around his throat is complete with a leash, so Bucky can pull it tight, keeping his big, hulking puppy close with the taut, short stretch of leather between their heated bodies.

His fist. Steve's neck. Connected. Joined as one.

He owns him.

It's not like Steve could go anywhere with Bucky's thick, powerful thighs clenched around his trim waist anyway. He's trapped. Entangled in Bucky's heat. All tight and hot and wet inside. And his voice is just as restricting as the leash around his throat--cutting off his air, pulled at just the right moment to slice his muffled moans in half when he pulls at his leash--and orders him to hold back. D-don't cum. Not yet. I'm, 'm not done fuh-fucking done with you yet. Make me cum again. J-just, ngh, just one more. 'M not done yet. Then you can have your treat, okay, boy? That sound good, huh, pup? Mmm, mmm-hmm, yeah, yeah, just like that, gimme it like th-that.

Steve whines, pathetically muffled. It's barely a sound at all, so softened, but at the same time, it's so saturated with want that it's dripping.

How did we get to puppy play? What?

[doyouevenshipbr0]

gruvia drabble

author’s note: HI!!! ok so im here. im risen. im inspired. here’s something FUNNYYYY about the inspo for this… so its based off of a theory from an anti gr*via post LMAOOO this feels soooo bitchy but i swear to GOD it is not a call out it is just genuinely something that gave me inspiration. so basically an anti said that gray doesnt actually have feelings for juvia and he is just saying that he does because he feels indebted to her for saving his life. sorta kinda something like that. im not gonna go back and look bc tbh i may have blocked the account? JFJDKDJDJ idk. anyways. here’s this. you’ll see where my heads at in a sec bc ur probably like “ok so how tf is that gonna be a gruvia fic” just WAIT ok my gears are turning. this one is a lot longer (and possiblyyyyyy OOC but in my defense!!!!!!!!! picture how gray would act if he were in an established relationship with juvia. like boyfriend girlfriend. for six months.) than it should have been BUT lets call it even for my million year hiatus. ENJOY BABIES!

~

Although Juvia had hardly gotten any sleep this past night, rolling around in her sheets all night with excitement, she certainly walked with a spring in her step when she eagerly made her way to the local convenience store.

She would’ve been lying if she said she hadn’t thought about setting up camp outside the little shop that night so that way she could hold those glorious, glossy, pieces of paper bound together by glue as soon as physically possible. Fortunately, she was reasoned with when Gray quickly pointed out the ridiculousness of the notion after she had brought it up to him as a genuine idea.

Making sure to get up bright and early the day of the big release would do. As long as she would be the first person in the store with the very first copy of that week’s edition of Sorcerer Magazine in her hands, she would be content.

Naturally, Gray initially rejected the idea. It was so completely and irrevocably unlike him. An interview about himself, just him, was a tall order, but an interview with him and Juvia, as a couple? There wasn’t a snowball’s chance in hell. For Gray, opening up to the people closest to him was hard enough. Even finally getting the nerve to ask Juvia on a date was something that took a great deal of time and effort. Things so personal like this were hard for him.

All these years in Fairy Tail, and he’s hardly spoken more than a few sentences to Sorcerer Magazine, let alone sitting down for a tell-all interview.

Unfortunately for him, his enthusiastic water mage was over the moon when Sorcerer Magazine reached out to them for an interview.

Public displays of affection were never Gray’s strong suit, and after finally realizing his feelings for Juvia, he still isn’t a fan. As much as he would deny it, he had become quite a softy with Juvia behind closed doors, but as soon as those doors open, he retreats back to his shell-like and cool exterior.

Even after a good six months of dating, Juvia really didn’t mind. It’s not like he acted like he didn’t know her. They went on dates, they were finally an official item, and he would even do subtle things like resting his hand lightly on her leg under the table at the guild hall or give a “Love you, see you later” loud enough for Happy to hear even knowing he’ll snicker and tease Gray about it for the next few minutes.

All in all, they were both content with the amount of their relationship they let others see.

So something like an interview with a very popular magazine would certainly throw a wrench in all of that for Gray.

But Juvia begged, and begged, and begged, and finally, once they came to an agreement about the types of questions they would answer and the depth of their answers, Gray agreed to the interview. After all, it would make her happy, and he was comfortable enough with himself and his self esteem at this point to be able to do this for her.

Juvia was elated with how the interview went. Of course, she had done most of the talking, but she was happy to do so. She tried her best to hold back on doting too much as to save Gray some embarrassment, and she thought she mostly succeeded. Even when questions got a little personal, like asking about how Juvia got the scar on her side (of course, with her new stripping habit when in battle, her scar is easily visible for large enough periods of time), she answered as succinctly and lightly as possible while still giving an honest answer.

So to say the headline that Juvia saw that morning plastered on the front of that cold and stiff magazine was horrifying was an understatement.

“Gray and Juvia: Girlfriend or Guilt Trip?”

Juvia wasn’t sure how many times the clerk at the store had asked “Miss? Are you alright?” before her consciousness finally came back into this orbit. She blinked for the first time in what may have been minutes, and looked up at the clerk. Without giving a reply, she looked back down at the magazine, and saw the picture they used, which was Juvia clinging to Gray, wrapped around his arm.

Gray’s face in the picture became warped by a water droplet hitting the cover, and then another droplet, and then another. It wasn’t until she looked back up at the clerk who looked even more concerned than before that she realized those water droplets came from her eyes.

“Sorry.” She quietly said as she handed the magazine to the cashier so he could scan it, handed him a bill of some value that she wasn’t entirely sure of, took the magazine back into her trembling hand, and left the store without getting her change.

Juvia got back to her apartment even quicker than she got to the store that morning. Every part of her mind told her not to do it, not to read the magazine, but then why did she buy it? Her brain screamed at her to put it down, not to go to the page of that article, but then why did her fingers frantically flip to page 14, just as instructed on the cover?

Each word was not only a dagger to Juvia’s very soul, but also a twisted reasoning and explanation, that Juvia fully believed by the end of her read. She couldn’t quite make the words into sentences or the sentences into paragraphs but as she buried herself in her covers, some phrases repeatedly burned into her mind and punched her in the gut such as “clingy”, “desperate”, and “leech”.

The worst part of it all weren’t the attacks at Juvia, but it was what this all meant for Gray. He was trapped.

He was her prisoner.

A prisoner that was bound to her out of a crippling feeling of guilt and sense of responsibility.

She may have been in her bed writhing in agony and mortification over these words for hours until a bang on her apartment door jolted her back to reality.

“Juvia? You in there?” Said that voice she knew all too well. How could someone’s voice be both such a comfort and a misery? She needed to hear him more than anyone at this moment and yet, she couldn’t bear to hold him hostage for another second.

She hoped if she said nothing, he would go away. But this was not the case.

The door slowly opened. “Juvia? Are you here? I’m coming in.” She winced as his voice got closer, now coming from her living room.

Her apartment wasn’t very big, so he found her in her bedroom in the next few moments. All Gray could see was a lump that was seemingly her body, crunched up into a balled up position, bound under her covers. Not even her face was out.

He stood in her doorway, not wanting to fully intrude “So you are here. Good.” He said calmly. “I was kinda’ worried when you didn’t meet me at the cafe this morning like you said you would.” Juvia then remembered they had plans to get breakfast together, bright and early, so she could gush about their big debut as a couple. Those plans changed

“Oh.” She said softly. “Juvia is sorry Gray-sama.” She tried to speak as clearly as she could knowing her voice was muffled underneath her blanket. “Juvia didn’t feel well this morning.” She lied.

“Oh.” Gray replied. He took a step into the room. “You sick?” He stretched his neck over her a bit to see if he could get any sort of glimpse at her face, but to no avail.

“Yes.” Juvia sniffled, using her congestion from her tears as fuel for her lies. “Juvia thinks it’s just allergies.”

Gray raised an eyebrow. Something was off. “Allergies? Since when do you have allergies?”

Juvia remembered in this moment that lying was not one of her strong suits. She was far too unapologetically herself to ever lie about anything, and she was just plain bad at it. To say she doesn’t have a good poker face would be putting it lightly.

“Well— Um—!” The pitch in her voice jumped with nervousness. “This spring has been a really brutal one! Pollen has been all over the place, and it’s driving Juvia crazy!” She finished with a fake sneeze, sealing her fate.

“It’s November.” Gray said, dryly.

Juvia’s face lit up a red so bright, she was sure she was glowing from underneath her covers.

After a few more moments of no response as Juvia tried to think of her next plot, Gray spoke again. “And I know you wanted to see me at the crack ass of dawn so you could show me the newest Sorcerer Magazine edition.” Gray sat down at the edge of her bed. “Even if you were in an accident that tore off all your limbs, you would’ve been at that cafe, magazine in hand, ready to explode from excitement. There’s no way some sniffles would stop you.”

There was another pause. Juvia meekly responded. “Well. Since Juvia’s body is made of water, it’s actually impossible for me to have all my limbs torn off.”

Gray barely let her finish the sentence. “Juvia!” He snapped back, fed up with the antics.

“And what does it really matter?!” Juvia erupted from her covers, finally revealing her swollen eyes, puffy and blotchy face, and ratted hair to Gray, whose eyes softened with concern. “It’s not like Gray-sama wants to have to wake up at 7:00 AM to meet Juvia for breakfast anyway! Just for Juvia to show you a magazine that I made you be apart of against your will.” Her eyes were welling with tears.

Gray was taken aback. His eyes widened with surprise and confusion. “Well-“

“Don’t deny it.” She cut him off. “We both know it’s true.” Tears dripped down her hot cheeks. “Just like it’s true how Juvia clings to you, and suffocates you, and even forced you into a relationship.”

“Whoa!” Gray sat up straight, and turned himself more to position himself facing her on the bed.

“And I always thought Gray-Sama just finally let Juvia in.” She interrupted him again, and gripped the sheets of her bed within her fists. “But it’s got nothing to do with that.” She looked down and gritted her teeth.

“Gray-sama feels indebted to Juvia since Juvia saved his life.” She clenched her eyes shut, and felt tears melt from her eyes in pools.

Her tense body jolted and almost instantly released tension as she felt Gray’s sturdy hands grab onto the sides of her arms, clutching her.

Juvia opened her eyes and looked up to find him just an arm’s distance’s length from her, staring at her with so much intent it almost looked like anger.

“What the hell are you talking about?” His voice is low and gravelly. Juvia was glad her eyes would cloud with more tears so she didn’t have to see his dark eyes piercing into her. She looked away.

“The magazine.” She pulled one of her arms from Gray’s grasp and pulled the magazine in question out from under the covers where it rotted away with her minutes ago.

Shamefully, she held Sorcerer Magazine out to Gray who promptly took it from her hands. She was brave enough to watch his face as he first locked eyes with the cover, but wasn’t brave enough for anything else. She saw his scowl quickly scan the bold words and looked back down as she squeezed her eyes shut.

This was it. The end. He would see those red capital letters shouting at him, telling him “Run!”, and he would heed the advice. Of course he would. The magazine was right, after all. He would turn to page 14 just as eagerly as Juvia did and read, in gruesome detail, the truth of their relationship. At least after all of this, he would finally be free from her venomous clutches. He would be absolved of all guilt, now that the article plainly told him the truth of their situation. He would no longer have to pretend-

CRRSHH.

Juvia’s cruel daze was broken by the sounds of Gray tearing the magazine in half.

And then another half, and then one more half for good measure.

“Gray-Sama!” Juvia exclaimed, shocked.

“What a load of shit.” Gray said plainly, but with distinct irritation in his voice.

“But! You didn’t even read the article! It explained how-“

“I don’t give a fuck.” He interrupted and finally made eye contact with her once again once the magazine was finally in enough pieces to do no more harm.

“Well, you should.” Juvia looked down at the shards of Sorcerer Magazine.

“And why is that?”

“Because it all made sense. From start to end. Our relationship. I clung and clung and clung to you, and when I saved your life, you had no choice but to break for me. You felt like you owed me something. And that debt was big enough to do something as crazy as convince yourself that you love me.” Although Juvia explained the situation plainly and logically, her own words were like poison in her mouth, as tears had no choice but to fill her eyes again. She looked up at Gray who was at a loss for words.

This was good. There was nothing left to say. She smiled softly at the thought of their departure, and thus, Gray’s freedom. She knew she needed to swallow her tears, so she did.

“It’s ok.” She shook her head with her smile still curled through her lips. “You don’t have to force yourself to do this anymore. The debt is repaid. These last six months Juvia has spent with you have been filled with enough love to keep me content for a lifetime. We can go back to being friends, and we can both be happy.” Juvia paused and watched Gray’s brow furrow.

“Thank you for everything, Gray-sama. Loving you this closely for this long has been everything Juvia has ever wanted.” She closed her eyes, and a single tear crept through. She smiled thinking about how even though they won’t be together, she will love him for the rest of her life, and that was more than she ever deserved.

“That’s enough.” Was all Gray said as he used one hand to pull her head directly towards him onto his shoulder, and he wrapped the other around the middle of her back. They were positioned awkwardly because of how they were sat on the bed, but Gray didn’t care or even notice.

“Have you officially lost your mind?” Was his next question, and his tone was still low, but a bit softer.

“Eh?” Juvia was at a loss for words. How did she en up in his arms?

“I knew this stupid interview was a bad idea.” He grumbled, talking to himself, but obviously for Juvia to hear. “It’s a magazine. Of course they would twist our words into whatever made for a juicier story.”

“But-“

“Juvia,” Gray cut her off and sighed. He grabbed her by her shoulders, putting her back at arm’s length, and looked directly at her. “Here’s the truth.” He said certainly. Juvia’s eyebrows clenched with confusion.

“I’m not with you because I feel like I owe you anything. I’m with you because you’re clingy, you’re relentless, and you’re obnoxious about what you want, which is me.” Gray was serious. Juvia looked down in embarrassment.

Gray gently swept her bangs out of her face, and his hand traveled to her cheek where he cupped her face. She had no choice but to look back at him.

“And I wouldn’t want it any other way.” He finally smiled, and Juvia’s heart oozed.

“What?” She whispered.

“You’re the most passionate, determined, loyal, genuine, kind person I’ve ever met in my entire life. You were the person who showed me that not only did I deserve love, but I was capable of loving. After all the people I lost, I had walls on top of walls on top of walls. And one by one, you broke each barrier down with a smile in your face.” He used a thumb to swipe away a tear, and Juvia let out a chuckle.

“Never in my life did I think I would think about stuff like romance or love. I was too scared. Now I think about having an actual future with somebody. And I know for sure that somebody is you.” Gray was saying things that Juvia only heard in her wildest dreams.

“Really?” Juvia grabbed onto the hand that held her face.

Gray nodded. “The way you’ve loved me has showed me how to love, Juvia. It took me awhile to get that, but I got it.”

He paused. He looked at the shred of magazing beneath him. “Not only is the person who wrote this article too stupid to know that I would never do something I don’t want to do or be with someone I don’t want to be with, but they’re also too stupid to know that you are the best thing in my life. A ‘guilt trip’ couldn’t be further from the truth.”

Juvia smiled, and instinctively her hand reached down for her scar, remembering how her sacrifice to save Gray’s life was what brought forth that term. Guilt trip. Gray took note of her hand placement, and knew she was thinking about this.

“Yes, you saved my life, and that may have been the moment that changed everything for me— for us, but not because I felt like I owed you, but because seeing how close I came to losing you made me realize that life is short. And up until then, I had spent all that time pushing everything off when I should’ve been letting you in. That moment made me finally realize that.” He looked at her deeply. “And I know I love you.”

“I love you too, Gray-sama.” Juvia finally allowed herself to melt in his arms, and he wrapped her up in his warm embrace.

“Y’knowww~” Juvia almost sang. “Saying you see a future with Juvia is practically the same thing as a proposal.” She snuggled closer into him.

“Alright, let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” Gray reflexively replied.

Juvia giggled and nuzzled even further into Gray’s chest. “Thank you, Gray-sama.”

Gray and Juvia held each other for a little while longer as the discards of Sorcerer Magazine crumpled and bunched up within the covers where they sat, but they didn’t care.

They let the words be buried beneath them.

[elliespeach]

no chances part six | ellie williams

pairing: ellie williams x afab reader synopsis: you and ellie are on rival volleyball teams and after letting your competitive nature get the better of both of you, tensions are high on and off the court. warnings: 18+, foul language, implied sexual themes, no smut, fluff after the angst, ellie is a little mean to herself in this part, mentions of weed uhhhh i think thats it? if i missed anything pls let me know authors note: this is the last part guys :)) i wanna do an epilogue but it wont count as a full part really but expect that!! thank you guys so so so much for all the love for this series it really means a lot you have no idea. my bad it took me so long to get this part out, ive been quite busy with life and being sickly but i am so happy to share this with you guys finally !!! i hope it's everything u wanted and more <333 w peace n loveeee

somehow you had managed to keep yourself collected until the end of the game, returning to the gym after splashing some water on your face. ellie never made an appearance, instead remained sulking in her car at how she had treated you. she knew you didn’t deserve that and it haunted her while she drove, alone and in silence. with her absence your team had taken the win but you found it hard to be in a cheerful mood, instead putting on a fake face for your teammates while they were over the moon. the bus ride back was loud and full of energy, everyone was complimenting each other on how they had played, and congratulating each other on a glorious victory. 

at the beginning of the season this would have never bothered you so much. ellie’s words did little to affect you then, but now it took over your mind and her words echoed in your head. her decision to sit out because of you weighed on you heavily and it felt like you were about to burst into tears at any moment. not only sit out, but not show up at all. you’ve always hated her, but the past few months have felt different. felt lighter and more playful, rather than how it was in the beginning. 

staring out of the window, watching the blurry trees zip by while the bus went down the highway, you thought about the hotel. the one little moment you two had shared that wasn’t driven by lust. you weren’t sure what it was that night, but you remember how nice it had felt. seeing her in a completely different light for the first time, wrapped in her arms and just feeling at peace. a tear fell from your eye and you quickly wiped it away, shaking your head and deciding to not think about it right now. 

when you got back into your dorm room, peeling off your clothes and jumping straight into the shower you finally broke down. letting out any and all emotions you had about her. you remained in the shower way longer than you had to, just letting the hot water just run over you. it didn’t bother you until the memory of one of the nights ellie and you had come back here flooded your mind. you had felt extra sweaty from the game and wanted a shower, and ellie didn’t hesitate to join you. she had laughed while stepping into the small shower, “we should conserve water, y’know?” 

that night had been the same as the rest, after the shower she promptly went home, leaving you satisfied but missing something. and that something vanished the second she closed the door behind her. 

with that you ended your shower, stepping out into the cold of your small bathroom. a shiver went through you while you looked in the mirror, seeing how disheveled you looked. it was pitiful to be honest. you thought about texting her, telling her all of the things that crossed your mind as you stood in front of the mirror. how could you say that to me? i was just trying to help. 

only to realize that you didn’t even have her phone number. it made some sense, there wasn’t a need to anyway as you only spoke at games. still, the realization burned in your chest like wildfire and you quickly made a decision. “fuck it–” you said to yourself, throwing off your towel and replacing it with comfortable clothes. thankfully, during one of your new found traditions with ellie, she realized she didn’t bring any of her stash and you had looked a little too disappointed for her liking. she offered her dorm up almost instantly, following it up with a quick and faulty reasoning. you knew exactly where to go. 

within seconds you were in the stairwell, keys jingling in your hand and the sound of your slippers echoing off the walls. you went down three floors all the while rehearsing the speech you were going to give her the second you laid eyes on her. because of me? you didn’t play because of me like it’s my fault that we’re in this fucked up situation? you trotted down the last few steps leading to the exit door. you’re vulnerable enough to have sex with me every week but a conversation is far out of your realm of capabilities i guess. you pushed open the door with a huff. you’re too stupid to realize that we might actually hav–

“can you hold the door for me–” the sound of her voice made you look up from the ground, your pace diminished and you took slow steps out of the door. it shut with a click behind you while you looked into those familiar green eyes. “oh, fuck,” ellie said nervously, she defiantly wasn’t expecting it to be you. 

“what are you doing here?” your eyebrows furrowed, but your tone remained neutral. suddenly feeling the burning in your chest start to evaporate. the lamp posts cast a dim light on her standing on the sidewalk, playing with her fingers nervously and often shifting her weight on either foot. 

“was waiting for someone to let me in–” 

“no i mean, like why are you on my campus?” you asked, swiftly putting your keys in your pocket.

she hesitated, looking down to the ground before back up to you. “i uh, wanted to talk to you–” 

“thats a first,” the words spilled out of your mouth with a sarcastic laugh. 

ellie’s face contorted into a grimace and she shook her head, “whatever, i knew i should’ve just went home.” she spun around, taking only a few short steps down the sidewalk. 

involuntarily your eyes rolled and you jogged to catch up to her, pulling her wrist and turning her back around to you. now only being a few feet apart,  ellie could see the redness in your eyes from crying. being embarrassed you looked to the side and let go of her wrist. “if you wanna talk, let’s talk.” 

she gestured to your pocket where you had placed your keys, “i don’t wanna keep you from wherever you were going,” she tried to deflect.

you blinked, quickly trying to come up with anything besides telling her that you were on your way to give her a piece of your mind. although now standing in her presence everything felt too harsh, all the words you had prepared slipped away from you. “it wasn’t as important,” you shrugged, offering her a faint smile, “we can talk.” 

“so i’m important?” ellie teased, her lips curling at the ends slightly and she stuffed her hands in the pockets of her sweatpants. seeing your smile ignited something inside of her that made her feel softer, more comfortable. 

“didn’t say that,” you quickly rebutted while walking leisurely past her, expecting her to follow you and she did. 

“yeah but, you implied it.” she quipped, coming up beside you and keeping your pace. the lamp posts did little to illuminate the world around you and most of the walkway was dark until you were directly underneath the light. 

you sighed lightheartedly, “yeah, whatever,” you began, taking a beat between your thoughts. “so are you like, gonna apologize for being a total asshole?” 

ellie sucked in a deep breath, looking straight ahead. the cool night breeze was comfortable, but it didn’t stop your face from growing hot with anticipation. “yeah, i’m sorry ‘bout that,” ellie’s voice dropped, the amusement in her tone vanishing with the wind. “i shouldn’t have yelled at you like that.” 

“then why did you?” you asked genuinely, your voice matching hers. your eyes were glued to your feet as they scraped the cement below. 

“i don’t know,” she responded, taking a quick look at you but you didn’t meet her eyes although you could feel her gaze. “i do know that whatever this is between us is confusing–” 

“i’m not confused,” you admitted, playing with your hands. “i don’t think you are exactly that confused either. that conversation by your car a million years ago? you all but told me how you felt, so why is it so much harder for you now?” 

“because someone like you doesn’t need to waste their time with me,” ellie’s eyes diverted to the field beside the sidewalk, staring into the darkness while you finally glanced over to her. “i’ve been awful to you, even before our–” her hands gesture in front of her, “you know.” 

“we’ve both been awful to one another, ellie. somehow none of that changes anything for me, does it for you?” her eyes found yours, now under the glow of the lamp posts her green eyes bore into yours and her expression was one you hadn’t seen before. 

“i don’t want it to,” she started, keeping her gaze on you as you two remained walking forward. her mind was racing, she had been too focused on how she treated you that she didn’t even take into account that it was a two sided street. if she was being honest with herself, she never paid mind to how mean you could be right back to her. it finally registered that no matter what you did to her, her feelings for you would never dissipate. “i meant what i said that night.” 

“about what?” 

“about not wanting to see you upset,” her feet stopped, and you only took another step before noticing, turning to stand in front of her. there was a moment of silence as you looked at her trying to find her words. “i really am sorry for everything.” 

you approached her, standing just inches away. “i’m sorry too,” her eyes wandered up from the ground and into yours yet again, “we really were assholes to each other, huh?” you chuckled lightly, trying to alleviate the heavy mood that had settled around both of you. 

ellie couldn’t help but laugh as well, “yeah, we were.” your hand reached up to her cheek gently and she leaned her head into your hand. “but that all stops, okay? i promise.” ellie’s hand grabbed the wrist that was holding her cheek, rubbing her thumb across your soft skin. 

“i’m not promising anything,” you joked, the tone in your voice going up. “it’s fun to see you all flustered.” 

“oh, so it’s like that?” ellie’s lips turned up at your words and she grasped for your hips but you snaked away. you giggled, playfully turning around to escape her grasp. you made it only a few feet before she had come up behind you, wrapping her arms around your waist. you both fumbled over one another, rolling into the grass beside the sidewalk all while laughing at each other. 

“ellie!” you giggled again, the grass tickling every part of your exposed skin. ellie had landed on top of you, her arm planted firmly in the grass beside your head as she looked down on you and the smile on her face never faltering, along with yours. 

in this moment, it was only you and ellie. everything around the two of you seemed to disappear as you longingly stared into each other. a piece of her hair had fallen from her tight bun and you gently tucked it behind her ear, running your hand along her cheek again. “can i take you on a date? a real one?” she asked in a whisper, never taking her eyes off of you. 

“you don’t even have to ask,” you answered her in the same tone, your chest swelling with her every word. ellie leaned down and planted a soft, loving kiss on your lips. something unlike she had ever done. every kiss you two had shared was sloppy, desperate and full of lust. but this time, it was sweet, slow and passionate. her hand cupped your cheek before she finally pulled away, resting her forehead on yours. 

“if our coaches could see us now,” she laughed, which made you do the same. you wrapped your arms around her neck as you always do, the warmth from her radiating like the sun. 

“bet they’d still try to bench us–” another spring of laughs came from the both of you before ellie finally pulled herself off of you. standing up she stretched her arm to help you up, which you took happily. “do you wanna stay over?” 

the question was like music to ellie’s ears, “i’d love to–” she planted a delicate kiss on your cheek. 

“good good,” you trailed, turning around to look at your dorm building which was easily more than a few yards away by now. being around ellie brought out the competitiveness in you yet again but this time it was more playful. “wanna race?” 

“seriously?” she turned her head, the smile on ellie’s face was now permanent in your presence. 

“what? you scared?” you mocked her lightly, tapping her shoulder and she scoffed at the accusation. 

“you know what? yeah, let’s race. i bet you–” 

you took off sprinting, even in your slippers you had managed to get a great head start. you could hear ellie’s footsteps behind you, slowly catching up. “hey, that’s cheating!” she shouted from behind you. while she watched you win the childish bet, she felt stupid for not allowing herself this type of happiness before, but if she had the chance to go back and change anything, she never would.

epilogue

[sonic-au-collision]

SONIC AU COLLISION: ROUND 1

click to see full image

Sonic Freak Show AU belongs to @estellardreams [link to fic]

Slumbering Wage belongs to @yu-melon

Explore each world below the cut!

Sonic Freak Show AU:

Eggman decides that the best way to stop Sonic and his friends from ruining his plans is to tear apart their physical and magical capabilities. He's not a murderer, but when Sage suggests overwriting their DNA with foreign and unknown species from another realm, he takes up the offer and manages to capture Sonic, Tails, Knuckles, Amy, Shadow, and Rouge, forcibly overwriting their DNA and turning them into hybrids of these creatures.

Sonic is part Kirin.

Knuckles is part Griffin.

Tails is part Dragon.

Amy is part Yak.

Shadow is part (reformed) Changeling.

Rouge is part (unreformed) Changeling.

Slumbering Wage:

Immortality can bring loneliness, it can turn your daily rutin into horrors. What will you do in next 10 years of your life? What about 100? Or even more? After 1000 years you probably stop counting because what left for you from your past? Theres no one who you knew and carried about. Not anymore. And when world in piece and its glory finally finds balance... its don`t really need to be protected anymore. With nothing much to do now... how about to skip some time? And what's best way to do so if not sleeping? Day by day, night by night, year by year, century by century...

Loud earthquake partially destroys old giant mountain what awakens Shadow the hedgehog from his 1000 year slumber. World changed. Theres nothing left from big and glorious cities. Mother nature took control once again. Now he is the last person alive who know ancient knowledge from more than 1000 years ago. While wind whispering to him words of those who he once knew Shadow need to adapt to this "new" world. And maybe... protect it once again..?