I made more Heated Rivalry Headers, because i genuinely couldn't stop myself. you can find more here. One of headers is from ep1 and the other three are from ep5
Just watched a disaster movie and now I’m thinking of Them and how Ilya wouldn’t rest until he found Shane. Like the plane scene is good and all but I need a country crossing disaster fic for these two. The yearning 😩
IT"S FINALLY DONE!!!!!!!!!!! Check out my animation of the title song from Nerdy Prudes Must Die, a horror musical from @teamstarkid
You can watch the FULL stage show on their youtube channel!
https://youtu.be/PG3RDdyD_GQ?si=Rhxg6asT0MMoTTXd
This clip features Jon Matteson as Richie, Will Branner as Max! The story and script is by Nick and Matt Lang, with music and lyrics by Jeff Blim!
future - hollanov - @hollanovmicrofic - word count: 463 - click here for my hollanov microfic archive on ao3
He was already mid-dial when Ilya's name popped up on his phone. Shaking finger halfway to 'Lily's contact, heart hammering in his throat.
It was just...the bed felt so fucking empty. After nearly two months of sleeping next to each other, of sharing space, of blissfully waking up and dozing off in each others' arms...it felt like a piece of his heart was missing.
He was back in his place in Montreal. Ilya, he knew, was in Boston. He'd gotten the confirmation text, had responded with a few replies. But it wasn't just the feeling of being away from the cottage that had him out of sorts. It was the feeling of being alone. The feeling of wanting something he’d finally been given a taste of after years of thinking he could never have it.
Not that he was able to put any of that into words.
"Hello?" he asked eagerly, trying to hide the way his voice trembled.
"Hollander?"
Fuck, Ilya sounded wrecked. The same way he sounded after sleeping in on a Saturday or after a particularly lazy fuck on a sunny afternoon. Shane swallowed, trying to stifle all of the emotion that threatened to bubble over. "Yeah?"
"Are we still being honest?"
That was a good question. Away from the safety of the cottage, away from the oasis of secrecy in their perfect utopia, would they still be brave enough to share their emotions? To strip themselves bare emotionally as well as physically?
Shane's whole body felt heavy, throbbing with anguish and need. He'd never wanted Ilya closer, never missed someone more. Tears prickled at his eyes. "Yeah," he croaked, because he needed something.
"You are not next to me, and I cannot sleep."
A mangled laugh-sob wrenched from his throat, relief and distress filling him in equal measure...because at least now, he knew they were in this together. "Fuck," he muttered, scrubbing at his face with one hand.
"I think...I think we are fucked, yes?" Ilya murmured softly, his voice full of amusement and sorrow, like he'd never been more thankful to be in a shit situation.
"Yeah," Shane nodded, a watery smile on his face, his response echoing in the empty room.
But before he could think of something else to do or say, his phone vibrated against his ear and he accepted Ilya's facetime request.
Stomach jolting, Shane took in his boyfriend's face. Even in the unflattering light, he looked stunning; his eyes red and his lips curling a little.
"Plug in your phone, sweetheart," Ilya murmured, laying back in his bed. "We fall asleep like this."
Shane nodded and sighed, doing what Ilya said.
They fell asleep staring at their phones on their pillows, thinking about a future where this wasn't necessary.
turns out i wasn't making that up, his name is Dr. Toru Miyazaki! he also wrote a book called "The Day Cats Live To Be Thirty", so cats are kind of his thing.
apparently, cats' kidneys tend to be the thing that takes them down, something about their bodies being unable to self-clean their kidneys, and the vaccine is supposed revitalize the body's ability to do just that. It would be very VERY fucking cool to have cats suddenly reaching 30 years of age be the normal thing.
As they age, almost all cats develop kidney disease, from which they eventually die. Just as in humans, kidney disease i
Dr. Toru Miyazaki’s AIM injection for cat kidney disease enters trials in 2025, aiming for a 2027 release. Greycoat Research supports the sc
whoa wait i actually read the articles and it's so much cooler than just that!!
dude cracked the case about WHY kidneys fail, across the board as far as i can tell. turns out there's a specific molecule whose job it is to attach to waste and signal macrophages to come eat it. it remains inactive in cats for some reason, but the molecule is still there. basically what he's done is found the switch to activate them. this will be profound not only for our domestic babies, but for big cats too - especially cheetahs!
although his research was focused on cats, it's already being used to develop drugs for humans too!
on top of that, since these molecules are tags for waste, this could also dramatically lower the rate of fatty liver disease, liver cancer, urinary crystals, rheumatoid arthritis, and even some neurological cases! like, they're hoping it may have an impact on parkinson's and alzheimers, but it DOES have an impact on stroke recovery. like. holy shit.
furthermore, he's insisting that the feline drug be affordable if and when it rolls out onto the market. he wants this to be something anyone can get for their cat!! idk how much sway he'll have over the human drug, but hopefully enough that it, too, won't be that expensive.
annnnnd in his research that he's still doing for the human side of things, he's found a potential link between this molecule and estrogen. in the 20,000 samples he's tested, women between ages 10 and 29 had the highest amount of this molecule present in their blood (a higher amount means Something Fucky is going on, essentially. There's a higher amount of waste the body is trying to clean out) but it drops down to be almost equal amongst men and women after menopause. it hasn't been looked into yet, but fuck, just the fact it's noted and known and probably WILL be looked into soon??? imagine if this is what leads to figuring out all the various ways the ovaries and uterus fucks with people and how to fix it. or even like, maybe there's something about estrogen that makes it work better. who knows! but it's rad the link is there to be researched :D
man just think, not only could our kitties start living longer, healthier lives, but just maybe dialysis will become as rare and obsolete as the iron lung is for people. what a badass Dr. Toru is!
Update: So they have done clinical trials and have submitted it for approval as of april 2026. They are expecting it to be available late 2026/early 2027
The AIM protein drug for feline chronic kidney disease has been submitted for approval in Japan (April 2026). We break down clinical trial d
As for the study itself, the 360 day follow up on stage 3 kidney failure kitties showed that the control had a survival rate of about 20%, while the test group had a survival rate of 80%
New 2026 study: AIM protein boosts cat kidney disease survival from 20% to 80%. Discover how this scientific breakthrough is changing the fu
hi beautiful buggy. your soft smut makes me happy and calm and fuzzy. i have been having a bad time can you write something really soft? whatever you want 🥺
Hi bugggybabe! I’m sorry things are tough, here’s something warm and horny and sweet for ya ❤️🔥
“It’s cold” Shane’s voice is a low simper, and Ilya turns his head once he hears it. His boy is here.
His heart brightens, chest warm at the creak of the outdoor floorboard under his foot. His boy is here!
Ilya shifts from where he’s sat on the rocking chair they’d put out here last summer. (They’d been watching a movie at Ilya’s place in Boston- Ilya can’t remember what but there had been a scene of a character sitting in a rocking chair watching the sunrise, drinking a coffee. Shane had sighed and snuggled closer to Ilya and said “that looks nice baby”. And Ilya knew Shane was thinking about their summer mornings together, curled up on the large rock by the lake, or sat on the deck or the outdoor lounge watching the sun rise up over the water. It would be nice, Ilya thought, a big wicker chair for the pair of them that they could gently rock in, share coffee while they watched the first light of the day. Ilya had gotten one made for them for Christmas, handmade big enough to fit them tangled up on it together. It had been waiting on the deck when they arrived this summer, and Shane had been glowing with happiness to see it in person.)
He watches Shane shuffle across the deck to him from where he’d walk out of the home. He had the blanket from the end of their bed wrapped around him, thick and fluffy soft, Shane’s favourite, and Ilya could see the peak of his bare chest under it, his sweatpants slung low on Shane’s hips. Shane’s breath clouded out in a haze into the fresh morning air, and Ilya took a slow drag of the cigarette he’d been smoking, savoured the hum of the nicotine as he savoured the site of his boy sleep disheveled and summer tanned, half asleep walking over to him. Ilya can’t believe it sometimes, that Shane is his. What they have.
“Come here then, get warm” Ilya says, motions to his lap, arm spread to the side and he exhales the smoke before he stubs out his cigarette on the side of his mug of coffee and drops it to the small side table it was resting on.
Shane wrinkles his nose at the smell of the smoke and Ilya hopes his boy is feeling sweet enough to kiss him despite the taste. He didn’t expect Shane to join him out here, he expected to have time to brush his teeth and use mouthwash before he crawled into bed to pout and ask for morning kisses.
With a huff, Shane is standing between the spread of Ilya’s knees, and Ilya can see the softness of his chest, his stomach, the skin goose bumped in the breeze. Ilya can’t wait any longer to touch him.
“Here” Ilya says again, looks down at his own lap and back up to Shane before he shoves his hands under Shane’s blanket cape to grab at his hips. He’s so fucking warm, his skin is so fucking soft it makes Ilya feel hungry. Fuck he loves him. He squeezes Shane’s hips hard, and Shane just grunts, takes a small step closer and then he’s placing himself in Ilya’s lap because he’s a good boy. Ilya leans up and smudges a kiss to his chin as a reward.
Shane squirms closer in his lap, thighs either side of Ilya’s legs, and he grips the edges of the blankets in his hands and wraps his arms around Ilya’s neck, taking him into his warm sweet cocoon. He smells like their bed, like sweat and sun cream and his body wash. Ilya leans in and rubs his face all over the soft warm skin of Shane’s neck, smooth and warm and lovely. He pulls in deep heavy breaths, taking hungry inhales of Shanes smell, the smell of home. His boy.
Ilya had only been outside for less than an hour but he’d missed Shane, and was thankful now for his warmth in his lap. The way his fingers were gently dancing over his shoulders. Ilya wraps his arms tighter around Shane’s waist and squeezes, squeezes, pulls until Shane is pressed completely to him and he feels Shane let out a throaty tired laugh.
“You feel good” Ilya sighs, dizzy from the sensory pleasure of the soft of the blanket the warmth of Shane, the smell of him, the joy of seeing Shane, Shane being his to pull into him. Shane hums and squeezes his thighs around Ilya, shuffles closer in a way that makes the rocking chair roll back.
“Thank you for letting me in your cocoon Zaychik” Kay whispers into Shane’s neck, bites to the left of his Adam’s apple.
“S’okay Ilya. Why’re you awake?” Shane asks, words are slurred together and his voice is so lovely and rumbly. He must have woken up and stumbled right out here first thing, he still sounds half asleep.
“Nothing bad” Ilya assures him, slides a hand down to find a handful of Shane’s ass.
“Just was up, couldn’t sleep and wanted a smoke” Ilya explains because it’s true, it had been as simple as that. He’d been cutting down in the cigarettes as much as possible, but during summer he did allow himself the pleasure a few times when he could tuck the habit away from Shane.
“Sorry” he adds and Shane rests his cheeks in Ilya’s head, shakes his head.
“S’okay. But no more now yeah?” Shane says and Ilya smiles into the skin of his neck.
“No more” Ilya nods, he doesn’t need a smoke not when he can rub his lips over the warm skin of Shane’s neck in little circles.
“Sleep okay?” Ilya asks, because he wants to know, likes to know how Shane has slept, if he feels well rested if he had any weird dreams. He wants to know everything he can about Shane, what he thinks of the dinner they made, if he likes the movie they are watching- what tshirt he likes on Ilya better. Ilya loves getting the see the world through Shane too.
“Mmhm, good” Shane agrees and he lays the blanket over Ilya’s shoulders, his hand smooths up into the back of Ilya’s curls, fingers tangle in and scratch scratch. Ilya shivers, and he feels his cock twitch in his boxers. Cheap shot.
“But then I woke up and you weren’t there” Shane’s voice is soft and little whiny and his fingers are needing through has hair, thighs squeezing around Ilya and oh. Oh.
That’s why Shane hadn’t given him shit about the smoke. His boy woke up needy.
“Yeah?” Ilya asks then, and his other hand slides to Shane’s ass too, uses his grip to pull his his down into Ilya’s lap and there, there is the hot press of Shane’s cock through thin fabric, pushing against him.
“Yeah” Shane sighs and he repeats the down rolling motion without Ilya’s hands prompting. His hips grind down in slow pretty circles.
“Woke up needing me?” Ilya whispers, low into the curve of Shane’s jaw and Shane nods, his fingers tighten in his hair.
“Just wanted, wanted to cuddle” Shane stutters out and Ilya smirks, parts his lips and bites at Shane’s Adam’s apple. Little liar.
“Cuddle huh?” Ilya asks, and then he’s pushing his hips up now too, matching Shane’s slow rolling thrusts. His cock hardens with every rutting movement, and Ilya feels Shane’s fingers tighten in his curls with each one.
“Yeah. Cuddle” Shane replies. Horny little devil, little deceiver. Ilya thinks and he draws his nose up Shane’s neck, along his jaw, bumps his nose against Shane’s soft pout and then up to rub their noses together.
“And what about kiss?” Ilya asks, hovering his mouth a breath away from Shane’s, his hard cock pressing against Shane’s, the friction of it hot and mouth watering. The chair rocks with each honey slow rock of Shane’s hips down into him and Ilya’s thrusts up to meet him where they both ache. “Did you wake up wanting a kiss too?” Ilya breaths.
Shane lets out a soft huff through his nose, pouts his mouth in the way he always does when he’s silently asking for a kiss and Ilya has to bite his tongue to stop himself from giving in. The hump of their hips gets better, lines up just right fuck yes the drag of fabric between them, the matching rigid lines of their cocks, fully hard and aching bumping and dragging perfectly against each other. Ilya wishes he could just part Shane’s ass and push into him, that he was ready and slick and he could feel him tight and gripping.
He pulls back just enough to look over Shane’s face through low lidded eyes. Shane’s face is puffy with sleep, eyelashes clumped, a sheet crease across his cheek. The morning light is tangerine warm behind Shane, lights him like a halo, the sun behind his head, his sun warm and brilliant and beautiful and shining in his lap. Ilya pulls a hand away from Shane’s ass to cup his face in one hand, he twists his head and takes a bite of Shane’s cheek instead of his mouth and feels Shane slump into him, heavy warm, all muscle and man lovely and loose in his lap.
“Ilya” Shane whines, and Ilya smirks, presses his lips to where he’d just bitten, a tiny kiss and he smooths his hand over the back of Shane’s head. The head of his cock nudges the thickness of Shane’s and Ilya chases the exact same hot drag of that once, twice more, rocking Shane in his lap.
“Well?” Ilya asks and Shane nods, “yes, and kisses” he mutters petulantly and Ilya beams, shark smile, and tilts his head up to close the distance between them, kisses him slow and sweet, before he pushes his tongue in behind Shane’s teeth. Shane’s hand grips his hair, pulls, pulls as he kisses Ilya back, shivery and sweet. Ilya kisses the taste of coffee and cigarettes into Shane’s mouth and then they kiss the taste away all together, until they just taste like each other, saliva and skin.
Ilya’s hand slides down Shane’s neck to his chest, thumbs his nipple and Shane rolls his hips down in a heavy needy shiver, so strong the chair rocks back and the blanket slips down Ilya’s shoulders. The cold morning air prickles his skin, sharp contrast to the boy burning in his lap, the warmth he’d bought with him, Ilya hadn’t realised how cold out it was until he had a lap full of his boy.
Shane’s hands reach up and tucks the blanket back around Ilya’s shoulders, rubs his hand over the fabric as if to warm him. and Ilya grabs Shane’s face, kisses him wet and messy till his jaw aches from it. Fuck he loves him.
They cum like that, rutting against each other in sway of the rocking chair, kissing hot and messy wrapped in the one thick blanket. Shane’s big hand between them, wrapped around both of them with their spit making it a nice wet glide. when the mess of their cum is between their stomachs and hands Ilya strips his boxers fully to clean them up, and then stands with Shane gathered in his arms, walking them up to shower as Shane tucks his head into Ilya’s neck and talks about what they should make for breakfast.
love arranged marriage unfortunately. the idea of being married to a knight who's not even in the city, but away on the front lines. it's a benefit for your family, so they dont even question sending you to his home to await his return...
you meet him three months into the arrangement. He arrives after the sun has already set, his features set strong in the candlelight. His body is heavy with exhaustion and tension, his eyes dull and tired.
you've grown to hate this place, this castle gifted to him for war victories. The halls are barren, the garden yet to bloom. The maids are pleasant, but they keep their distance, as if you'll strike. Maybe your husband is the kind to hit. You wouldn't know.
When he looks at you, it's only in short bursts, his eyes suddenly low. There's a long stretch of silence between you and you consider introducing yourself, but decide against it. He knows who you are.
"The maid is drawing me a bath," he says suddenly and a sick feeling pours over you. This day was always coming, but you aren't sure you're ready to lay under a stranger.
"Am I expected to join?" you ask and his nose crinkles.
"No." He steps back and away. His departure is brisk and driven. You retire for the night by yourself and awake alone. Your husband is set to leave again in a few hours; a few soldiers have already gathered in the front garden.
"Don't you wish to give your new wife a goodbye?" one asks, unaware of your open window. "One night and you've already had your fill? Or has she been filled too much?"
"I refuse to believe she is real!" says another. "What kind of woman has worn down our brute and turned him into a family man? Should we expect a gaggle of children in the upcoming year?"
Your husband growls. "You will leave the poor lamb alone. She suffers enough."
That softens you. Just a bit. You rise from you bed and go to the window, leaning out enough to catch the men's attention.
"Until next time."
He watches you, expression caught between more emotions that you can count, then turns his gaze back to his mount. The two men share a look, wide, wide grins on their faces.
In his absence, he sends gifts. They are tiny things, sweets and oiled combs and scented oils and a porcelain figure of a cat, aimless in their direction towards you. Just simple niceties he could give to any woman in the world. You imagine he sends one to the lovers he has in every city as well.
(he must have lovers, you imagine. He hasn't touched you; he must be getting his fill with women in other cities, maybe women he actually loves. these are trinkets to keep his wife amused while she wastes away.)
none of the gifts come with a note.
one day a bolt of fabric arrives, yellow and ornate. It's only a small amount, not enough to make a dress, but enough for you to unravel and admire. It's beautiful and clearly expensive, golden threads woven into flowers and vines. Your father was a silk merchant; while you never wore the silks, you can recognize their quality.
the following week, the delicious man rides up on his steeds and presents a letter. The handwriting is rough. Knights that come from the lower class do not have the schooling of highborns; as fair as you know, your husband was born a street rat and worked his way theough the ranks to glory.
-I have been told by my secund that I did not send you enuf fabric for a gown. I do not no these things.
The spelling mistakes screw a smile out of you.
"Wait a moment." You stop the boy before he can leave. "I wish to send something back."
You take your time and use your finest calligraphy, tucking your note in with a handkerchief you had spent the week on. It's fine work-- one that would please even the hardest of hearts.
-Dearest husband,
Please take this handkerchief as a sign of my thoughts.
Your patient and thoughtful wife
A second letter arrives within the week.
-are you cros with me? A scrap of fabric for a scrap of fabric?
The response is what makes you cross. The poor messenger boy has to stay the night while you percolate over a response.
-Dearest, sweetest husband,
A handkerchief is a traditional gesture of affection. I have embroidered the edges by hand, with your family name and your roses, and it smells of my perfume. It is a piece of me for you to carry. If you do not appreciate my kindness or if you think it will turn away your lovers, you may return it. I do not wish it wasted on you.
Your less than patient and less than adoring wife
The poor boy scatters off in the morning and returns a few days later.
tortured wife,
I wil cherish it. I am sory, pour lam. I wil do better.
i see and respect your prince shane and knight ilya. however. consider that as a prince ilya would be very politically savvy and adept at courtly life, with all his charm and beauty. in his adult life, he finds courtly life very empty and meaningless, until knight shane is conscripted to serve as his personal guard and he reclaims some of that meaning. meanwhile, shane is doggedly devoted to ilya -- it's his calling as a knight after all -- until he realizes maybe his devotion extends further than just his duty.
of course, being a very charming and popular son is all well and good for ilya, until grigori becomes paranoid that ilya has enough sway to overthrow him. ilya would never do this, but grigori cannot be convinced otherwise. so he comes up with a plot to poison the carafe they're drinking from, knowing he has the antidote and ilya does not. what grigori doesn't know is that shane tests all food and drink before they ever touch ilya's lips. shane takes the poison meant for ilya and collapses in ilya's arms.
commence the prince of the realm sitting at the bedside of a lowly peasant. alexei tells ilya his behavior is uncouth and beneath him and ilya replies my love might die because of me. nothing is beneath me now.
andulkaphoto
areudirty
stormborns
